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sorrowfulrosebud · 1 year

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The Lone Wolf (again…)

Wolf! Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Contents: in which Wolf! Katsuki royally fucks up

Genre: extreme angst

CW: this is a very dark fanfic so I can’t really put the tws without spoiling the story. I’ll try my best anyway. TWS for blood, neglect, death and etc.

This is for @vampyrsm s collaboration! I’m sorry it took so long but it’s finally here! It can also be considered an alternative AU for my papa wolf series and can be read as a stand-alone piece.

“I’m leaving you”.

These were the words that made you stop scrubbing the dishes in the basin as the muscular frame of your mate stood unbreakably behind you. Your brows furrowed at the proclamation, wondering where the hell it had come from.

You had had a slight idea that he was unhappy, being more growly and quick to trigger than usual, but you had just assumed that he was nearing his rut again. Determined to see what he had to say, you stood your ground and remained facing the stone basin. The slight trembling in your hand informed Bakugou that you had indeed heard what he had sprung on you and took your silence as a means of continuing his speech.

“I’m getting soft and weak, for god’s sake. I’m a wolf, not some sort of damn domesticated house pet that you can play with whenever you feel like it. I can feel it that staying here is making me lose my edge, and what kind of wolf would stay with some sort of weak little human like you, huh? The very idea would have you slaughtered in my pack for acting like a domesticated pet,” Bakugou spat. The way he borderline snarled the word made it seem like it was some sort of dirty slur.

But I suppose, when you are forcefully ripped from one lifestyle and thrown into another, you’re bound to feel shaken up. That’s the strange thing though. The last year and a half of your life after meeting him was the best time of your life, and judging from the endless belly rubs, walks in the woods and helping him through his ruts, you were certain he had the same feelings for you as you did him.

==================================

The way you had met was less than conventional; when checking your rabbit traps and snares in the forest, you had found Bakugou muzzled, naked and chained by a collar to one of the thickest trees with a huge gaping wound slicing his Achille’s tendon to prevent him from running away. (Not that he could have to begin with. You figured that it was to add insult to quite literal injuries).

As a twig snapped under your hunting boots, the thrashing of the chain ceased as carmine eyes pored into yours. You were mesmerised by how a well-sculpted man could seem so animalistic until you were able properly see the well hidden ash blonde ears tucked in with the rest of his hair and with a quick swish, you were also notified of a fluffy tail being raised on alert. A sharp snarl pierced the air as Bakugou tried lunging at you, secretly dying internally from the horrible humiliation of someone from the species he’s mortal enemies with seeing him in such a disgusting manner.

In Bakugou’s pack (as he explained to you), being even remotely associated with humans would mean that you were the lowest of the low; a domesticated dog who would do cheap tricks for their master. Bakugou had been found sneaking off to the local human village to observe how humans function as a society, to study what they eat, how they take care of their young and how they farm crops. The leaders of the pack (his parents) decided that the punishment should fit the crime:

First, the traitor would be stripped naked as a symbol of stripping their morals for the enemy

Next, the heels would be sliced open to prevent any further disloyalty to the traitor’s new master by running away after the disloyalty for the pack was displayed

Then the traitor would be muzzled since it is a reflection of the biggest rule in the pack: NEVER SPEAK TO A HUMAN

The most humiliating thing was next. The traitor would be collared and leashed to a tree in hunter territory since acting like a pet means that you get treated like a pet, much like a dog being chained to a kennel. If the traitor loves humans so much, they can see how much they enjoy being skinned for their fur and having their teeth torn out for jewellery.

Eager to help the handsome stranger that you found, you raised your arms in peace and ambled slowly in front of him. You were EXTREMELY aware of his claws so you sat a good three feet away. Bakugou couldn’t deny that he was intrigued by your actions; he was still highly on guard but most hunters would have raced away for a spear or bow and arrow to put him out of his misery. With a small smile, you had introduced yourself to him to try to establish some sort of relationship, only to be met with an annoyed growl and chuff of his breath. In an instant you totally remembered that he was naked and rootled through your bag for a spare pair of hunting trousers that you carried. Your soft hands held them out to Bakugou to see if he wanted them instead of sitting there with his whole body on show.

Bakugou made no move to grab them from you, thinking that you had doused them in chloroform or some other drug that would seduce him to sleep. Instead, he just glared at you with intense eyes. The yanking on the chain had stopped completely as he studied you ferociously.

“Go on, you can take them! I can’t guarantee that they’ll fit you but I’m sure it’s better than sitting out here naked and covered in your own blood,” you offered with a gentle smile. Katsuki glowered at you as you set them down for him and turned your back so he could change himself.

Internally, Katsuki was in two minds; accept the clothes and kill you at any point in time if you threatened him, or sit here bound and helpless for god knows how long…

Katsuki growled as the fabric temporarily dug into his bleeding heels. He eventually managed to shimmy them up his legs, toned calves strained against the fabric due to their size.

“Are you done? Can I turn around right now?” You asked him politely. Katsuki let out an annoyed growl at your question, but you took it as a yes. You turned back around, borderline chuckling at the size of your trousers on Katsuki’s lower half before immediately being shut up with an angered glare.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Now you’re going to have to stay still whilst I-” you fumbled in your pocket for a knife, the silver blade glinting in the sun.

You only just managed to avoid the swiping of claws against your skin as Katsuki lunged for you, hackles raised and sandy ears pulled taunt against his head. Your fingertips pressed against the wound and you audibly winced at the amount of blood; even though he nicked you, there was still 4 big slits in the side of your tunic.

“Fuck, shit that hurts! What the actual fucking hell, asshole?!” You yelled at him, “I was going to unlock the muzzle around your mouth!”

Katsuki still growls, but his ears go back to normal. His entire body feels so… sluggish.

“Woah, hey are you okay?” Your face donned a worried look as the adrenaline of his night finally floated away from him and he slumped unceremoniously at your legs.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The pops and crackling of the toasty fire surrounded Katsuki’s senses as he finally started the descent out of sleep. He had no fucking clue where he was; there were certainly no soft couches back in his cave, nor were there little carved woodworks of various woodland creatures.

A soft humming could be heard from what Katsuki would assume to have been the kitchen. You entered Katsuki’s eyesight with a carefully balanced tray of stew (lamb by the small of it), and placed it carefully on the oak coffee table next to your plush couch. Katsuki shot up from the couch, snarl in his throat, ears all the way back and hackles raised as you raised your hands once again.

“Hey, relax, please! I’m not going to do anything, I swear! I just wanted to make sure you’re alright. You passed out on me in the woods, so I took you back to my house to clean your wounds and feed you,” you lowered your hands to your waist and looked at Katsuki for his reaction. His ears slowly went back to their original position, the glint from his fangs could still be seen. His breathing was harsh, toned pecs heaving in his fear rage.

He slowly reached for the bowl of stew before sniffing it.

Well, it doesn’t smell poisoned. He thought. Might as well eat some, I’m fucking starving.

He tucked in with hesitation, but as soon as the first bite of juicy lamb hit his tongue, the bowl was next to empty. You stood dazed at how fast he consumed the bowl before offering your hand out to him. Katsuki immediately shrank back on the couch.

“Woah, I just wanted to know if you wanted seconds? You’re obviously hungry and there’s plenty more in the pot if you want some,” you spoke gently to him, almost like he was a pup, or a wild animal. Katsuki clearly thought for a second before shoving the bowl in your chest with an annoyed huff. You smiled at him widely before trotting back into the kitchen.

It suddenly dawned on him that he didn’t have any extra heaviness from that damned collar on his neck, and upon further inspection, you actually had stitched up the gaping wounds on his ankles. He still wore the trousers you had gifted him, so he was at least quietly grateful that you granted him privacy.

Well. This is going to be one hell of a summer.

=================================

“Katsuki, what the hell do you mean? You’re leaving?? When did you decide this?!” You turned around to face him properly and were instantly met with an annoyed expression.

“It doesn’t matter when I decided it, I’m fucking leaving and there’s nothing you can do about it!” He snarled at you. Deep inside, he loved you more than anything he could ever think of. He wanted to be your mate for his entire life, to wake up with you every morning and maybe if you would let him, indulge in his fantasy of having a few pups of your own. Alas, he had heard rumours around the village about a group of werewolves terrorising the local village’s cattle and he desperately wanted to see his old pack again.

“But Katsuki, please think about it! Where would you go?! You know that if your old pack were to see you again, they are more likely inclined to kill you!” You shouted at him, face crumpled up in tears.

“No they fucking wouldn’t, my pack respected and adored me! I just put my own personal interests before the safety of my pack, and that got me landed here in this shitty fucking cabin with you. A filthy human who would probably sell me to a hunter the minute I started acting like a true wolf,” he snapped back, his eyes dilating to pin pricks in his anger. Your own eyes glared back at him with tears delicately lacing your lash line.

“They. Fucking. Left. You. For. Dead. You went against your pack, and your PARENTS of all fucking people decided that they would slice their own fucking SON and LEAVE HIM FOR DEAD! I have done nothing but take care of you, through each of your ruts, each full moon, I EVEN FUCKING NURSED YOU BACK TO HEALTH.

DAY AND FUCKING NIGHT, I WAS AT YOUR SIDE HELPING YOU TO WALK AGAIN! EVERY INJURY YOU EVER HAD, I WAS THERE TO CLEAN UP AND KISS. SO DON’T YOU EVER FUCKING DARE SAY THAT I’M JUST SOME STUPID FUCKING HUMAN WHEN I WAS MORE OF A PACK TO YOU THAN YOUR OWN FAMILY!” The words were spewing like venom at this point, you couldn’t fucking breath and the tears were pouring down your face thick and fast. In an instant, Katsuki had a death grip on your wrist, carmine eyes reduced to slits and his ears were flat against his head.

“Don’t. You. Ever. Disrespect my fucking pack again. Y’know, my pack was right. Humans do nothing but brainwash you into domestic shit. This was a mistake from the start,” he spat maliciously. His claws were digging deep into your wrist, making your face screw up in pain.

“K-Katsuki, let go! You’re hurting me!” You sobbed as you tried to pry him off. It wasn’t until the smell of blood hit his nose that Katsuki realised that he had actually hurt you. With a cry of pain, you clutched your bleeding wrist to your chest. The red stained your shirt a violent colour.

Katsuki could feel his rage ebb away and was slowly being replaced by worry.

“Woah, hey are you ok-“ he tries before you flinch away from him, hitting your back against the sink behind you in an attempt to get away. Your whimpers physically hurt him in ways he never knew existed.

“Hey, don’t push me away! I’m trying to see-“ he tries again before you finally turn to him and his heart breaks further at your teary face.

This was such a stupid fucking thought, he was so fucking stupid, why the hell would he leave you for his old pack?! Katsuki finally reflected on your words before his blood felt like ice. Why would he say such awful things to you to try to prove to an old pack who left him for dead?!

“Baby, please, I want to help,” he borderline whimpers, ears twitching dolefully. Your face screwed up in anger before you stood at your full height.

“You want to leave you fucking bastard, then leave. I’m not going to fucking stop you. I hope your pack was fucking worth the one person who stuck with you these last few years. Now, get the fuck out of my house.” You snarled lowly, eyebrows furrowed in pain. Katsuki reached out for you with a trembling hand before you started borderline shrieking.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I CALL THE DAMNED HUNTERS TO SKIN YOU ALIVE!”

Katsuki had never felt so low in his entire life. You started swaying in your rage, trying to shoo him away. He let out a whimper as he looked at you one last time before fleeing out of the house, your screams of pain and fear ringing in his head.

==================================

1 year later…

Katsuki was miserable. Utterly, and purely miserable. He had found his old pack, and for a moment that had hope flutter through his stomach. Until of course, as you predicted, they tried to kill him for his betrayal (and the fact that he still stank of human).

Slurs of “pet” could be heard through the snarls as Katsuki had narrowly avoided claws and fangs, before tumbling down a hill and running for his life. It was against his morals to do so but he couldn’t face losing another family.

For the past year, Katsuki had tried making his own way of life; finding a small cave further into the mountain range near your cabin and stealing from the local village for meats and blankets. He made his own new home, but it didn’t feel the same without you whatsoever.

He missed you. He missed your sleepy smiles, he missed your stupid little jokes, he missed kissing you awake on Sunday mornings, he missed… you. Every night, his hands loosen the thick red collar you had given him as a joke and thumbed it carefully. Trembling hands caress the leather as small tear stains plop onto it and whimpers reverberate around his cave. It may have started as a joke, but he never took it off even after you threw him out, only to lament painfully on his regret. Most nights he substituted your soft body for his tail, clinging on to it until it hurt.

He hadn’t seen you for a year. 365 days without your cuddles, belly rubs, gentle kisses and warm smiles. Katsuki could feel himself going mad, so he made a decision.

He was going to apologise.

==================================

Katsuki checked his appearance in a puddle that had accumulated in his cave; his hair was somewhat kept better, his ears and tail were freshly groomed and he held a large bouquet of wild flowers he found in a field.

Katsuki let out a shaky breath before hardening his face.

“I just have to show her how much she really means to me. I can’t- I can’t be without her.”

And so he began the trek to your cabin.

==================================

He began to walk at dusk; it gave him a cloak of protection from hunters, plus you would be really surprised. It only took him about half an hour to find your cabin tucked snugly in the back of the woods. But the sight before him made his blood feel like ice.

The door was absolutely shredded. Large claw marks had sliced the door to oblivion, as well as the surrounding walls. Even though it was almost as thick as the trees that the wood came from, it was nearly folded in half and torn off its hinges.

Bile raised in his throat. As did his hackles.

“(Y/N?)” he tried anxiously.

No answer. However, he detected a new smell.

Blood.

He crept behind the door, immediately on high alert. Whatever did this was not fucking human.

His heart lurched dramatically at the state of your home; all of your belongings were either torn to shreds or thrown across your floors. Carpets were torn up, pillows shredded, curtains torn from their windows.

“(Y/N)! I’m not fucking joking, if you’re there then say something!” He yelled through the house. Fluffy ears twitched intensely, desperate to hear some call of validation. He was frightened absolutely shitless. The only other time he had felt so afraid was the day he lost you.

Creak…

Katsuki pinpointed the noise to upstairs. All survival instincts flew out of the window as he bolted up the stairs, only thing on his mind was to ensure your safety. He nearly fell down a few steps before reaching what was your shared bedroom.

The bile actually came out.

Your bedroom door was identical to the one downstairs; torn to shreds and laid in pieces on the ground. The soft blankets that laid on your bed had gigantic claw marks slicing through them, all the way down to your thick mattress.

Again, your curtains were brutally ripped off the window. The window itself had been smashed, shiny fragments glittering across the entirety of the room. Katsuki stepped lightly on the floor, the smell of blood poisoning his sensitive nostrils.

It was the strongest in your bedroom and-

“Oh my fucking god, no.”

Strewn like a rag doll, mangled on the floor in an inhumane position was

you.

The exact same slices on your door were buried deep into your stomach and neck. Thick, red torrents of blood seeped from your body and deep into the wooden floor. Your eyes had completely glazed over, staring back at him with gray.

Tears had crept down your face in your last few moments; Katsuki could smell the salt on your face.

“B-baby? Oh my fucking god, please no!” He screamed brokenly into your corpse. His tears dampened the dress you were wearing (the same one you wore when he tore your heart from its chest). All Katsuki could do was scream in pure, unfiltered pain at the loss of his love.

Memories of you both flittered through Katsuki’s mind. Mornings where the sunlight trickled into your bedroom as he studied your face sleepily. Memories of the sweet and shy kisses, of lazy summer days, of comfort from agonising nightmares all cursed Katsuki as he mourned your death.

He truly had nothing now. No family. No friends. No you.

So, Katsuki did the only thing his paralysed mind could think of; the same claws that scarred your wrist brought hell down on his neck, his claws shredding his gullet within seconds.

Katsuki coughed, once, twice before the metallic tang of blood seeped into his mouth and seeped down his face in buckets. Not that he could see before due to the tears in his eyes, but the quickening of the blood down his body reduced his vision greatly, black spots already swimming in and out of his peripheral.

He only managed to sink down beside you, wanting his last dying moments to be beside the very person that made him happy. The very person who changed his life. The very person who’s life he had ruined.

Through the tears, Katsuki nestled his head close to you, tears dripping on to your wounds as he found it increasingly difficult to breath. He gasped unconsciously for breath as he tried to grip on to you, feeling scared of his descent into death. As long as you were there, he would follow you and plead for forgiveness.

He started to feel content.

‘I- I’m so sorry. I’m coming,’ he thought. His face rested on your shoulder as his body started to shut down completely.

But it wasn’t until his final breath did his eyes shoot open one last time at the sound of the four small whimpers across the room.

“D-daddy?”

#bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou #hybrid bnha #wolf bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #wolf Bakugou #Wolf Bakugou angst #hoo boy this took months #hybrid bnha x reader #papa wolf katsuki #major tw #bnha x reader angst #MHA x reader angst

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rebelspykatie · 1 month

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WHEN HELL FREEZES OVER

He’s more nervous than he’ll admit. It’s stupid. But even if he’s played hockey his whole life, he’s not sure how his skills stack up against Eddie and the other Hellfire guys. He could make a fool of himself, even with all those years of experience. He’s never wanted to win something more, though.

Not that it’s a competition with the others. Jeff is at the edge of the rink, leaning against the railing with an amused grin, waiting for them to warm up. Gareth and Frank are standing by the goalposts on opposite ends of the ice. They’re not even wearing their full gear, just some practice jerseys and knee pads. That should be enough to loosen Steve up. It’s not that serious. This is just a silly competition that doesn’t mean anything in the long run.

Eddie’s not as relaxed, he skated a few laps around the rink to shake off the first part of their competition, before stopping beside Frank and whispering conspiratorially with him where Steve couldn’t hear. They keep casting furtive glances his way that leave Steve’s skin prickling.

He ignores it.

He does a couple of loops around the arena himself, warming his legs back up and getting used to the hockey skates he switched over to, then glides over to Gareth. He feels silly standing next to the Hellfire guys in their pads and jerseys, with his ill-fitting one and tight warm-up leggings. None of them have on anything that could be considered form fitting. At least his own hockey skates bring him some level of comfort.

“You ready, man?” Gareth asks, leaning on his stick and grinning over at Steve.

“As I’ll ever be.” Steve rubs a hand over the back of his neck, nerves clearly showing if the softening of Gareth’s teasing grin says anything.

Gareth slaps him lightly on the arm. “You’ll be fine, dude. Eddie’s not gonna go easy on you, but you have some sick speed on you. If you can get the puck from him, you’ll beat him in a race. If he gets the upper hand, catch his left knee. It’s weak from a previous injury and he won’t expect it. That might only work once, though.”

Steve’s not sure if he can trust Gareth, but he’s been nothing but nice to Steve throughout the rivalry brewing between him and Eddie. In fact, he almost always seems to side with Steve and poke fun at Eddie when he can. He settles on believing him.

“Thanks, Gareth.”

Another look passes over his face before he asks, “What’s with you two, anyways?” He gestures with his chin towards the other end of the rink.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Steve says, shrugging. “He’s hated me since the moment he laid eyes on me. Thinks I’m some spoiled brat or that he’s twice the man I am cause he’s in different skates.”

“Eddie’s an idiot, Harrington. You’ll have to forgive him.”

Steve snorts. “I just wish I could figure him out.”

“I can’t say for sure,” Gareth leans in closer, “but I don’t think he hates you.”

Steve looks across the rink. The intensity of his gaze must alert Eddie, because he throws a look over his shoulder, but quickly turns back to Frank when he realizes Steve is staring at him.

“He can barely even look at me,” Steve adds quietly, more emotion there than he’d like for Gareth to see, “He told me not to call him Eddie, only Munson, and acted like me touching him was going to give him cooties or some dumb shit. One minute he’s concerned about my well being, the next he’s insulting me. I just can’t get a good read on him.”

Gareth mumbles idiot under his breath. Steve probably wasn’t supposed to hear that, and he definitely doesn’t think it’s directed at him, but it tears his gaze away from Eddie all the same. A long suffering sigh leaves Gareth.

“You’re getting a better read than you think, Steve.” He skates closer and puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Just give it time. Somehow I have a feeling this will all work itself out in the end.” He squeezes Steve’s shoulder. “And if you kick his ass, Eddie won’t be able to say shit anymore. I’m pretty sure you’ve already taught him a valuable lesson, so let’s bring home a victory for you, alright?”

Steve nods. A victory. He can do that. He knows hockey. He might not do it every day like Eddie, but he’s not a novice.

As they slip on their helmets, Gareth adds, “Give him hell, Harrington.”

Continue on AO3

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #katie writes

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autisticlifelessons · 7 months

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Autistic tips for overnight trips

Being away from home overnight - no matter what the reason - has always been something I have struggled with. No matter how tired I am, the first night anywhere new I'm lucky if I get a couple of hours of light sleep - I'm on high alert all night dealing with unfamiliar smells, noises and anxiety.

If this affects you, or someone you know, here are my tips for making being away overnight as comfortable as possible.

Make sure you schedule enough downtime - this can be hard to do when you're on a trip and only have a short time to do everything you want/need to do, but having time to chill out during the day can give your senses a break and prevent you from burning out, especially if you aren't sleeping much at night. For example, if I'm on a city break, I usually go back the hotel room after lunch for a few hours. I'll doze, read, catch up on messages etc, and then have energy to go out for the evening.

Use earplugs and or/eye masks - personally I can't stand them, but I know lots of autistic people who find they make a huge difference to their ability to sleep. Alternatively, use towels/clothes to block out light coming through gaps in the doors and windows, and if you ask you may be able to get a room in a quiet part of the hotel.

Bring something that smells familiar with you - don't be embarrassed at bringing a cuddly toy that smells of home with you to help you sleep. Any true friends will not give you a hard time over it. Our sense of smell is linked to the very primitive part of our brains and can help release the hormones that help us relax. I've also heard of people bringing their own pillows from home, or even pyjamas that you've already slept in for a few nights.

Stick to a hotel chain you like - this may not always be possible in terms of avilability and budget, but the rooms in hotel chains tend to be almost identical wherever you go, which can make staying away from home less overwhelming than a random AirBnB. In the UK, my autistic sibling and I have stayed in so many Premier Inns we find we sleep about as well as we do at home.

Know your limits - it can be really hard to advocate for yourself, for example if you don't want to feel like you're spoiling the day for the people you're with. But anyone who cares about you will not want you to be in distress for their stake. This is where disclosing your needs ahead of time to pay dividends, as there should be contingency plans in place to cater to the needs of people with disabilities in the group. This kind of ties in with tip one, but be mindful that travelling in itself is exhausting and overwhelming, so be kind to yourself and be honest about how much you can handle.

As every Autistic person has different needs, not all of these tips will apply equally, but they should give you a good starting point.

Did you find them helpful, or do you have any other tips to add? Let me know!

Follow me for more tips xx

#autistic #autism #asd #neurodiversity #life tips #anxitey #autistic adult #actually autistic #travelling #sensory issues #neurodivergent

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south-park-polls · 2 months

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South Park Song Tournament!

[also check out @votemattrey’s South Park 25th anniversary concert tournament on their blog!! <3]

I am aware the creators made an official song tournament, but i didn’t hear about it until after it was already over so I have decided to make one of my own!

This is very self-indulgent and there are a lot of south park songs to think of, especially if you include covers (which i have decided to do) so I am likely very biased in which songs i have chosen.

I have narrowed it down to 128 songs to start to give an easy number for a tournament, but if I haven’t included your favourite song feel free let me know in the notes, reblogs or tags and I will make sure to add it to the list.

Please don’t worry about whether requesting songs will interfere with the tournament numbers! I have plans to give second chances to the closest losers to ensure that there is never an odd number of songs going into the next round :)

The songs I have decided to put in the tournament are as follows:

South Park Theme Song

I'm Gonna Make Love to You, Woman - Cartman Gets an Anal Probe

Hot Lava - Volcano

Love Gravy - An Elephant Makes Love to a Pig

Make Love, Even When I'm Dead - Pinkeye

The Lonely Jew on Christmas - Mr Hankey the Christmas Poo

Waitin' On a Woman - Cartman's Mom is a Dirty Slut

Simultaneous - Summer Sucks

Chocolate Salty Balls - Chef's Chocolate Salty Balls

Cheesy Poofs Theme Song - Roger Ebert Should Lay Off the Fatty Foods

Underpants Gnomes Work Song - Gnomes

Getting Gay With Kids - Rainforest Schmainforest

I Hate You Guys - Jakovasaurs

Sexual Harassment Panda - Sexual Harassment Panda

Shelly, Shelly - Cat Orgy

Turds! - Cat Orgy

Mr Hankey the Christmas Poo - Mr Hankey's Christmas Classics

Carol of the Bells - Mr Hankey's Christmas Classics

Christmas Medley - Mr Hankey's Christmas Classics

O Tannenbaum - Mr Hankey's Christmas Classics

Christmas Time in Hell - Mr Hankey's Christmas Classics

Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel - Mr Hankey's Christmas Classics

I Saw Three Ships - Mr Hankey's Christmas Classics

Merry Fucking Christmas - Mr Hankey's Christmas Classics

O Holy Night - Mr Hankey's Christmas Classics

Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas - Mr Hankey's Christmas Classics

Timmy and the Lords of the Underworld - Timmy 2000

Fingerbang - Something You Can Do With Your Finger

Wendy's Audition Song - Something You Can Do With Your Finger

Third Grade Memories - Fourth Grade

The Prostitute Song - Fat Camp

Circle of Poo - A Very Crappy Christmas

Why Can't I Be Like All the Other Kids - Here Comes the Neighbourhood

It's Butters! - Butters' Very Own Episode

Montage - Asspen

Sea People and Me - The Simpsons Already Did It

The Ballad of Lemmiwinks - The Death Camp of Tolerance

My Future Self n Me - My Future Self n Me

Poo-Choo Train - Red Sleigh Down

Bleeding Heart Rock Protest Song vs. Pro War Country Song - I'm a Little Bit Country

Make a Run for the Border - Fat Butt and Pancake Head

Taco Flavoured Kisses - Fat Butt and Pancake Head

Jesus Baby - Christian Rock Hard

Faith + 1 Album - Christian Rock Hard

Casa Bonita - Casa Bonita

Joseph Smith Was Called a Prophet - All About Mormon

Cigarettes All Hidey Lidey Day - Butt Out

Follow the Only Road - It's Christmas in Canada

French Canada - It's Christmas in Canada

Let's Fighting Love - Good Times with Weapons

My Robot Friend - AWESOM-O

My Wishing Tree - The Jeffersons

The Future Begins With You and Me - Goobacks

Vote or Die! - Douche and Turd

I've Got Some Apples - Stupid Spoiled Whore Video Playset

Christmas Time is Once a Year - Woodland Critter Christmas

Make It Right - The Death of Eric Cartman

Love Lost Long Ago - Follow That Egg!

We Can Live Together - Ginger Kids

Trapped in the Closet - Trapped in the Closet

Hey People, You Gotta Drive Hybrids Already - Smug Alert!

Who's Got the Greatest Mom In The World? - Tsst

Dawg's Crew Theme Song - Miss Teacher Bangs a Boy

Hippitus Hoppitus - Fantastic Easter Special

California Loves the Homeless - Night of the Living Homeless

I've Got a Golden Ticket - Le Petit Tourette

Imagination Song - Imaginationland

Canada on Strike - Canada on Strike

My Internet Done Up and Went Away - Over Logging

Super Fun Time - Super Fun Time

You Gotta Do What You Wanna Do - Elementary School Musical

Burn Down Hot Topic - The Ungroundable

I've Got a Ring on My Finger - The Ring

Queef Free - Eat, Pray, Queef

Gay Fish - Fishsticks

Somalian Pirates We - Fatbeard

Poker Face - Whale Whores

Minorities at my Water Park - Pee

Lake Tardicaca Hula Gal - Crippled Summer

You and Cthulhu - Mysterion Rises

Cafeteria Fraiche - Crème Fraiche

Vunter Slaush Kapushkuh - Crack Baby Athletic Association

Work Mexican Work - The Last of the Meheecans

Lemmiwinks vs Wikileaks - Bass to Mouth

Put That Heart to Work - Broadway Bro Down

Out of My Shell - Broadway Bro Down

I'm Not the Poorest Kid in School - The Poor Kid

The Jewelry Polka - Cash For Gold

Make Bullying Kill Itself - Butterballs

Jackin' it in San Diego - Butterballs

I Swear - Cartman Finds Love

The Ballad of James Cameron - Raising the Bar

It's a Beautiful Day - World War Zimmerman

A Chorus of Wieners - A Song of Ass and Fire

Princess Kenny Theme - A Song of Ass and Fire

My Bitch Ain't No Hobbit - The Hobbit

Push (Feeling Good on a Wednesday) - The Cissy

The Tale of Craig's Mom's Bush - The Magic Bush

PC Chant - Stunning and Brave

Where Has My Country Gone - Where My Country Gone

The Yelper Special (Boogers and Cum) - You're Not Yelping

In My Safe Space - Safe Space

The Ballad of Tweek and Craig - Tweek x Craig

Let's Come Together As a School - Douche and a Danish

Give Life A Try - Put It Down

Put It Down - Put It Down

They Got Me Locked Up In Here - Hummels & Heroin

Barbershop Quartet - Hummels & Heroin

A Witch Pursuit Thing - Sons A Witches

Faith In Christ - A Boy And A Priest

Unfulfilled - Unfulfilled

Colorado Town - Bike Parade

Go Strong Woman, Go - Board Girls

I Love You Social Distancing - The Pandemic Special

Mountain Town - South Park: Biggger, Longer & Uncut

Uncle Fucka - South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut

It's Easy Mmkay - South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut

Blame Canada - South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut

Kyle's Mom's a Bitch - South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut

What Would Brian Boitano Do - South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut

Up There - South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut

La Resistance - South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut

I Can Change - South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut

I'm Super - South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut

Mountain Town (Reprise) - South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut

We Are Living in the Future - South Park: Post Covid: The Return of Covid

We Missed You Randy - South Park: The Streaming Wars

I Got Cred, Bitches - South Park (Not Suitable For Children)

Hope you all enjoy the tournament and may the best south park song win!

#south park #south park songs #trey parker #matt stone #trey parker and matt stone #sp fandom

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tasmanianstripes · 2 months

Note

Re that post about content warnings...

I suspect I'm the person you saw reblog this--and I think that some of the OPs original point/intention might have been lost. It is mostly to emphasize that there's some degree of responsibility on the reader -- by this I mean, you can't get mad at an author for hiding behind tags like "creator chose not to use content warnings." It's kind of a two way street. Because if you put "cw: (triggering thing)" it protects the people who are avoiding it--- but it also may spoil the story for the people who arent. This can be problematic if that major content is actually a huge plot element and having it spoiled kind of removes the shock reaction that comes.

I'm of the opinion personally that people can and should use creator chose not to use warnings and then just a vague "this is going to deal with problematic content that could trigger you; be in a good headspace to consume" type note at the start of its something specific. I reblogged because I really wish more authors would lean into that tag function; it exists to protect both reader and writer, lets us keep our spoilers and surprises while alerting the reader that There May Be Dragons here.

Anyway, I know you don't want discourse and I'm hoping this ask just clarifies why I reblogged it rather than sounding disrespectful in any way. If you wanna reply feel free, but you don't gotta. I just felt bad when I read your post, thought you might have misunderstood my intent behind the reblog, and really wanted to explain myself.

Oh no it wasn't from you, and I totally agree with you!

This is why I mentioned that option of AO3 too because I think it's a good compromise, it doesn't spoil the story but also makes it so people know there might be some potentially triggering things if you read it. When you click on that you kind of accept that risk.

I was more so talking about when there's no warning at all, not even "Hey this has some triggering stuff in it but I can't say what because that's a spoiler, read at your own risk", and my absolute frustration with it. If that is not what OP meant then my bad, but that post came off as also defending that, mainly thanks to the inclusion of the line (paraphrasing) "the author only has the obligation to add the trigger warnings the website they're posting to requires them to" which in cases for websites like Tumblr is none (or was none for a very, very long time (untagged graphic SA fics in the Moomins tags my beloathed)) and is generally a problem where websites don't really have filters like AO3. If it's only about AO3's option to not include warnings and an AO3 post that broke containment then I agree (and my bad also), because it's clear when there are triggering subjects and the author simply chose not to include them vs if there are no triggering subjects.

I still take issues with the wording even then though, though this feels like a nitpick and I generally don't like nitpicking people over wording they use. I'm just generally frustrated because it feels like the discussion of trigger warnings is about courtesy and comfort when treating it like it is is massively underselling it and feels like intentionally picking the words to trivialise the issue and making the people who need them out to be needy and nuisances. Trigger warnings are an accessibility feature, and I'm tired of people boiling it down to simply comfort of the reader, it feels like accessibility is always an afterthought and even a nuisance to some people to deal with. It's genuinely frustrating, and maybe my personal experiences affected my reading of that post.

Sorry if my post upset you also! I admit I was pretty frustrated when writing it so I wasn't the most polite. I totally agree with you here though.

#asks #thylacines can talk #ao3's filtering system is a genuienly good one imo. especially their distinction of no warnings apply vs author chose not to use warnings #i guess the nature of tumblr is posts sometimes escape containment and get misread by people who dont have the context

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novelsnovelsnovels · 7 months

Text

Chapter 1

Home Sweet Home

“Ow, son of a -”

The sudden jolt of the coach car sent Luric's head in collision with the cold, hard window frame, the sharp flash of pain on the left side of his skull making him forget the nightmare he had been having moments earlier. He rubbed his concussed skin through his disheveled, thick locks while a low hiss escaped his lips. Still a little drowsy, he slowly became aware of the violent way the wagon was now wobbling; a sure sign that the train had left the even plains of the Anlalize province and was now chugging down the old, worn out tracks of the north-western highlands. Home sweet home, he thought sourly while looking at the dreary landscape.

Luric had been eagerly waiting for a chance to be sent back here for years- the Institute choosing him over his more experienced colleagues due to his familiarity with the region- but his excitement had subsided quite a bit over the course of the long journey. He dimly recalled the dreadful dream filled with angry, accusing faces and then the brutal way he had been awoken from it, his mood darkening further. But then he also remembered why he had dreamed of the angry, accusing faces, who they were angry with and the reason behind their accusations, and he felt his zeal to see this endeavor through successfully return. No, he would not allow anything to spoil this for him.

“Your face is unpleasant.”

Including her.

Sitting on the bench opposite of him, posture stiff and expression stern, was his companion. Her presence on this trip had been compulsory. Or so his boss had insisted when he protested. He had still tried to change his mind until the last moment.

“I know quite a few women who would strongly disagree with you on that.” He shot her his most feral smirk, wondering if he should let a little bit of fang peak between his lips to add to her discomfort.

“That's not what I meant,” she said rigidly. “Can't you feel it?”

He looked at her confused, but then took notice of how her eyes were wide with alertness, shoulders raised with tension, how her hands that were nestled in her lap had balled into tight fists. She tried to hide it, but her entire body was poised for either fight or flight, and he tried to suss out what had triggered this reaction. There was no immediate danger he could sense and right now it was him she was staring at intently.

That made him pause.

Him?

He turned back to the window, but this time instead of looking through the glass out into their surroundings he focused on the faint, transparent reflection of his face, and he finally understood what she meant.

Whether it had been the nightmare or him hitting his head or both combined, he didn't know, but something had triggered his fight or flight response and for him that meant something else entirely. Forget a little bit of fang- he had brought out both rows of white, razor sharp teeth, his canines gleaming menacingly as his jaw dropped a bit. How had he not felt them when he spoke just now? His eyes had bulged too, pupils unnaturally dilated and irises now a just a thin ridge of bright yellow. Even his ears had turned a little pointy. Unpleasant, indeed.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled in her direction, and then focused on retracting his monstrous features.

It wasn't hard; not much of the beast had seeped through. There was only a sliver of agitated force vibrating around his skin, a feeling he had become so used to that it was no surprise it could move past his barriers and out into the open without him noticing when his mind was too preoccupied or his heart too perturbed. Still, it shouldn't have happened. Not to a Graduate. And definitely not in front of someone who was tasked to monitor his conduct and report back to his boss. Shit.

She wasn't looking at him anymore, head turned pointedly towards the window, but eyes too unfocused to claim there was anything of interest to her outside. Luric frowned. If this was all it took to make her so uncomfortable, then she was definitely in the wrong line of work.

He closed his eyes, let a long-practiced calmness wash over him, then reached out towards and around the edges of his essence, and slowly started to push back the prickly energy he found there, radiating outwards. He pushed and pushed until it dwindled and disappeared somewhere within the deepest part of his being, taking the fangs and the yellow eyes and pointy ears with it.

There, all better.

“Nelle?”

She only turned her head a little to look at him, nodded once, and then shifted her gaze back to the window, shoulders still tense. It would seem that calming down didn't come as easily to her. Unfortunately, that would likely reflect on her assessment of him.

He sighed and leaned against the cushioned backrest of his seat, aware again of his aching head. Suddenly, a long-forgotten memory dislodged itself from the crevice of his mind, and the new-found irony almost made him laugh. Back then, when he had been riding these same tracks out of the high lands, he also had an injured head. That particular bump, though, had been courtesy of a special perpetrator. Recalling his face - recalling all of their faces - made him feel that initial excitement return, though not without a healthy dose of resentment. Beneath his skin, the beast's energy simmered tepidly.

He couldn't wait to get back home.

To call this a train station would have been too generous. The cracked platform that they had stepped onto was shorter than the entire length of their train and barely three meters wide; a tiny, lone cabin for the station master stood at the other end. It was empty. As was the rest of the station. No one else had gotten off here, and it wasn’t hard to imagine why. The image that greeted them was as uninviting as it was sobering. The station was situated at the top of a small, flat hill and it gave them a good view of the bleak-looking town stretching before them. A canopy of rust-colored roofs punctuated here and there by rickety prayhouse towers. Everything was in shades of brown or gray, and it matched the dreariness of the overcast late autumn sky. The few crows swirling overhead - their harsh caws though loud and piercing somehow accentuating the silence - completed the picture of a desolated Podunk town at the arse-end of nowhere. If only this were as bad as it got.

“This doesn’t look so bad,” Nelle breathed.

“I’m sure the people of Pelase would be happy to hear you say that.”

Nelle turned to look at him in confusion. “Pelase? You mean this isn’t -” She reached into the pocket of her overcoat and retrieved a neatly folded paper map. She opened it only enough to look at their location, eyes quickly finding the name written sloppily in bright, red ink next to the printed one that marked Pelase. “It should be the next town over. We got off at the wrong station.”

“I’m afraid not. Whoever wrote down Runrick so close to Pelase on your map has obviously never been around here. And trust me, Runrick is nowhere near as pretty as this. No railroad leads to that shithole.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed, then looked back at the ratty little town, probably trying to imagine something worse and unable to. He didn’t blame her. Under any other circumstance he, too, would’ve rather chained himself to a cliff than accept an assignment that would take him so far from civilization. And he spent the better part of his childhood here. Nelle was born and raised in the capital. He wouldn’t be surprised if she had never even seen a cow before, much less smelled its dung.

He flung his travel pack over his left shoulder and bent down to pick up hers as well. Startled, she quickly grabbed her bag before he could touch it, shot him a curt “I’m fine, thank you!” and scurried ahead without looking back. Working with her will be so much fun. With that solemn thought he followed suit, albeit at a much lazier pace.

He caught up easily enough, the hillside gravel road leading into town proving to be a bigger challenge for Nelle’s pavement-crafted legs. Idly he wondered how another offer to take her luggage would be received, then realized he intended to word it as patronizingly as possible, so the outcome could only be one. Getting under people’s skin was a favorite past time of his, but Nelle was proving to be surprisingly unamusing when irritated. He decided he preferred the silence but loitered behind just in case her flimsy legs failed her. He would want front row view for that.

It took them an hour and an absurd amount of money to find a coachman willing to take them even near Runrick. And by near, he meant a good hour-and-a-half on foot from where he left them. The wooden sign next to the crossroad where they had been dropped off was chipped and the paint no longer readable, but it still pointed dutifully towards the path they had to take. Before them lay a dirt road, just wide enough for one carriage, that cut through a tiny stretch of grassland before it got swallowed up by the forest.

Luric dared a glance at his companion. The long journey had obviously left its mark on her poise. When he met Nelle just a few days ago in Lord Ashladd’s office, the very first thing he noticed about the woman was her prim and proper appearance. Nothing else about her stood out. She wasn’t anything noteworthy as far as beauty went; a simple bowl cut framing a fairly insipid-looking face with a pair of emotionless, dark, gray eyes staring back at him from underneath blunt bangs. It was obvious that she cared about her appearance though, not because of vanity, since there was nothing cosmetic to be found on her, but because of decorum. There was not one hair out of place, eyebrows were expertly plucked and even, clothes clean, ironed, and befitting an employee of his Majesty’s Institute. Now, her neatly combed blond hair was slightly disheveled, her attire wrinkled and flecked with mud. She looked tired and weary, as well as a little unsure when she gazed into the dark shadows of the forest they now had to enter. Nelle must have sensed his eyes on her, because she suddenly drew herself up, fastened her hold on her luggage, and pressed on.

Thankfully, the road snaked around the hills instead of over them, keeping their hike on even ground, but the muddy, bumpy path proved to be too much for Nelle either way, and she soon fell behind. Luric was trying to slow his step without it seeming deliberate, but even he was starting to lose his patience. He was almost completely caked in mud beneath the knees, and that pissed him off far more than it should. He cared about his looks too, though in his case it was about vanity. He liked looking good and important. Especially now. Especially here.

It was well past sunset before they even caught a glimpse of lights in the distance. The wind had picked up as the darkness fell, blowing dust and dry leaves in their faces. The clouds had looked heavy with rain for most of their journey from Pelase and it seemed like the downpour was ready to start.

Nelle was now several steps behind him, staggering against the gale. She was walking hunched, face half buried in the collar of her coat and eyes scrunched up to slits, trying to shield them from the biting wind. He almost felt sorry for her. It was obvious that she had tried to prepare for this journey, judging from her thick coat and long boots, but her choice in clothing still spoke loudly of the inexperience of someone born and bred in a southern city. Around here, a woolen coat alone didn’t cut it. Boots didn’t have to be just long, but also warm and impervious. She hadn’t thought to bring a scarf either, probably thinking the roll-neck pullover and collar of her coat would be enough. It would’ve been, for the mellow winters of the capital, but a north-born would’ve known to choose something with a fur cowl. Would’ve known to choose fur instead of any other material.

On the other hand, Luric was north-born, knew what to expect coming here, and still dressed as if going for a stroll through the park on a drizzly day. His long, black cashmere mantle adorned with a loose shoulder cape of the same material provided barely any protection against the harsh weather. But he didn’t need it to. He could withstand the cold on his own; his clothes served another purpose. Until the rain began he wouldn’t even bother to pull up his hood, the wind having messed up his hair enough already. Something else he was slightly annoyed with.

Another strong gust blew over them, the loud howl joining in with the cacophony of rustling leaves. From somewhere behind, them a low branch broke off and fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and with that sudden sound, the last remnant of Nelle’s composure finally snapped. She let out a terrified cry as she whirled around, hastily dropping her luggage in case she needed to run from whatever her imagination was telling her had caused that noise. She tripped and fell backwards on her behind, eyes still frantically searching the darkness. Earlier, he would have found the sight amusing, maybe would’ve made a joke at her expense, but as he was running dry on patience himself, he found it pitiful instead.

He casually sauntered over to her and picked up her bag, confident there would be no objections this time.

“There’s nothing there. I would’ve known if there was,” he said calmly.

She looked up at him over her shoulder, still shaky and scared, but the words seemed to have registered. He turned around and continued, walking past the scattered brief case that she had been carrying alongside her duffle bag. He knew better than to even attempt to reach for that. He knew exactly what its contents were and it was a weight she could still carry herself.

It wasn’t long before he heard Nelle’s hurried steps behind him, struggling to keep up and stay close to him. He didn’t slow down this time.

________________________________________________________________________________

It took a lot longer than the coachman had told them to reach the outskirts of Runrick, but even then they had yet to come to the end of their trek. As far as Luric could remember, the only halfway decent inn around was near the market square, at the center of town.

They made their way through the dark, empty streets, barely any light streaming through the tightly-closed wooden shutters of the candle-lit houses. Every so often a guard dog would start barking at them from behind a fence, but otherwise the town was deathly quiet.

As they approached the center, the houses grew a little bigger and were more densely-packed, most of them made of stone or clay bricks instead of cob. This is where the good folk lived. And would you look at that, some of them even had lanterns hanging from their frontage now. Luric was impressed. Ten years ago, any sort glass oil lamp would’ve been considered a modern commodity and only a few households could afford them. Paraffin, together with many other far more essential things, was hard to come by in these parts. It seemed, though, that Runrick wasn’t ready for cobblestone yet. Perhaps it was for the best, since shit tended to stand out less on muddy streets. Live stock was still free to roam wherever its owner pleased, apparently. Most towns these days forbade animal trade inside its bounds, precisely because of the mess it left behind, but obviously that memo had yet to reach Runrick.

Luric looked around. Nothing he’d seen up until now had awoken any distinct memories. There was only so much he could make out in the dim light, but he still expected to recognize at least a few street corners, or a broken-down shop front, a run-down alley. It was almost a little disappointing. He’d thought the sight of this old home town would’ve stirred his mind, and heart, a little more. Perhaps he had misjudged the impact this place had left on him. And that worried him a little.

To Luric, this excursion was all about personal gratification, and that depended solely on the importance this town and its people still had to him. He had tried to put his childhood behind him only out of sheer defiance, and to help mold himself into a better, stronger person, but he had always made sure that somewhere in the depths of his soul a wound remained open just enough to help him remember this place and what it did to him. If that wound had closed over, then there was no pain to feed the bitterness he needed for that gratification. And coming here had been a mistake.

It wasn’t until they reached the main street leading up to the market square that he started to feel a vague sense of familiarity, but nothing beyond that. He spotted a large stone house with glass windows from where the inviting glow of the fireplace beckoned. It looked presentable enough to be an inn, so he made a beeline for it, Nelle in tow. But instead of entering immediately, he paused in front of the window to peer inside between the iron grills. The dining hall was empty, save for a lone woman sitting behind a wooden counter. She seemed to be struggling to stay awake, her head constantly dipping forward as her eyes fell shut before jerking back up. He tried to get a good look of her face to see if he could recognize her.

And he did.

Recollection hit him with such force that it left him momentarily stunned, and when the shock subsided he felt an unexpected surge of emotions wash over him.

She was older, fatter, but he recognized her. She had been there that day. This woman hadn’t been someone close to him in the past, had only seen her in passing as a child, and he couldn’t even remember her name, but he was certain he had seen her face in the crowd he still had nightmares about. She might have even been there in the one he had on the train earlier. And that was all that mattered.

Guess the wound is still very much open, he thought, relieved.

He moved away from the window, started to formulate a plan on how he wanted go about this. Beside him, he felt Nelle shift, probably wondering why they hadn’t gone inside yet. Maybe he could use her.

“Would you mind being the one to talk to the innkeepers?”

Nelle frowned up at him and opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it in resignation.

It was obvious that this didn’t make any sense to her. Why should she be the one to talk to the locals when he was the one who had lived here in the past? It seemed, though, that his gentlemanly deed from earlier had paid off; without asking any questions, she went for the front door and opened it. Luric was right behind her but pulled the hood over his head before stepping inside. He didn’t think the woman would recognize him immediately, but he wanted to make sure she didn’t alert anyone of his presence before he wanted her to. When Nelle saw this, her frown deepened, even looked a bit exasperated with him. It hadn’t rained yet, he hadn’t used the hood at all while they had been out in the cold, why on earth would he pull it up now, indoors? – was written all over her face. To her credit, she still didn’t ask any question. Just sighed and turned around to walk towards the woman.

Said woman was now fully awake and alert. She looked at them in disbelief, hands sliding slowly behind the counter. He wondered if she had a rifle there. Runrick was so remote even the innkeepers were confused when they actually had customers, he thought bemusedly. Though he supposed two strangers clad in black, appearing in the dead of a stormy night on your doorstep, would put anyone on edge. She did look a little scared. Good.

“Um…,” was all the woman could muster.

Nelle didn’t wait for her to get her bearings.

“Good evening, madam. We are from the Institute of Occult Science and Affairs, and we have been sent here to aid you in your plight.”

“In my….” The woman was obviously still having difficulties.

Undeterred, Nelle went on. “Your town executives have sent a message to us about a shadow critter causing havoc in your community?”

A beat.

“Oh - OH!” Apparently, it had finally hit home. “You’re the - you’re here to- OH, THANK GOODNESS!”

The woman brought her hands to her chest as she heaved in relief. She was still a little shaken and tears were now welling up in her eyes. “We thought it got lost on the way. Or that…m-my husband said, city folks don’t bother with people like us.”

And they normally don’t, thought Luric. The woman was now throwing worried glances in his direction. He had kept his distance and stood silently near the doorway, hood half-covering his face. He must’ve cut a frightening image. Nelle interjected, trying to keep the woman’s attention on her.

“We apologize for taking so long. The Institute will offer compensation to anyone who has lost livestock during the time it took for us to answer your call.”

The woman looked at her oddly, as if unsure on how to answer that. She then mumbled something in a small, broken voice that even Nelle had trouble hearing.

“I beg your pardon, madam, could you please repeat that?”

“P-people, m’lady,” she stuttered. “It stopped commin’ after cows and sheep weeks ago. It kills people now,” she finished with a sob, and the tears were now freely running down her face. Luric raised his head in surprise. Nelle, on the other hand, had gone rigid.

“Mother’s love, we keep hearing ‘bout someone disappearing every couple o’ days now. We even tried - when we saw that no one was coming, we tried to kill it ourselves, a-and it-it - OH, those poor boys!” She had completely broken down now, palms frantically wiping away at her face.

We’re dealing with a man-eater? Well, he had encountered monsters like that plenty of times before, so he wasn’t all too worried. He looked over at Nelle. Her back was ramrod straight, her entire frame completely still and silently watching the crying woman in front of her. It was probably fair to assume that she was quite a bit worried. The initial message had been about a black-furred pest with bright red eyes, lurking at the outskirts of Runrick, and stealing their animals. The people at the Institute had concluded that it was a shadow critter that had outgrown squirrels and rabbits, and was now looking for larger, easy prey. Sheep and the occasional bovine, nothing more. But shadow critters never went after people. Whatever this was, it hunted humans, and that changed the parameters of their mission. Something else she hadn’t come prepared for, judging from her reaction on the road earlier.

“Please stop crying, madam. We will take care of it.” Nelle’s voice was steady. Luric was impressed. She had pulled herself together far faster than he had expected. Well, to be fair, she knew it wasn’t her that had to fight the damn thing anyway. She was only here to observe him.

The woman had settled down somewhat and started pacing back and forth, as if she couldn’t decide which way to go. “I have to run to tell’em. Oh, but I don’t wanna go out into the night alone. But they have to know.”

“We will inform the town council of our arrival first thing in the morning, madam.”

“But they’re havin’ a meetin’ right now. At the prayhouse. “

Luric perked up at that.

“It got another today,” she explained. “Bramber. Oh, that kind, sweet boy.”

He paused at that name. Bramber. Bramber….Bramby?! Suddenly, the image of a short, stout, blond haired boy sneering at him popped up in his mind. He remembered him, only he had been neither kind nor sweet. Bramby had been one of the meaner kids at his school. They hadn’t been friends or even gotten along. Younger and smaller than others, Bramby had liked following the bigger kids around; being with them made him feel more important, higher up on the food chain of the school yard. And if those kids liked to pick on Luric, then so did Bramby. Still, Luric was a little sorry that he died.

He sure would’ve liked that little kiss ass to see him now. Would you have started following me around this time? He huffed, amused, to himself.

The sound had caught the woman and Nelle’s attention. Nelle looked at him disapprovingly. If only she knew how little he cared about propriety right now. Ignoring her, he addressed the woman with a calm, even voice. “Leave it to me then, madam. I’ll go now to let them know we’re here.”

She looked at him with a mixture of gratefulness and uncertainty.

“Would you, m’lord? Thank you!“ She was leaning in a little, trying to see his face under the hood.

He let her. “It’s my pleasure.”

Luric turned to Nelle, who had gone from disapproval back to confusion.

“I assume you can handle it from here?” he said while dropping their luggage unceremoniously on the floor. As he turned to open the door he heard the woman say hurriedly.

“Wait, m’lord! I haven’ told ya where our prayhouse is.”

He paused. He turned back to her, pulled back his hood so she could see his face fully, and smiled at her.

“Don’t worry, madam, I still know where it is.”

She blinked. She didn’t understand. She didn’t recognize him. But as he was closing the door behind him, he saw her face twist into something like realization. Pleased with himself, he stepped into the night.

#The Shadows in Runrick #Novel #novel writing #fantasy novel #horror #halloween #acerbic little shit main character

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asadpuppetshow · 1 year

Text

Lyrics under cut!

[ADAM]

Look at this crib

In all of its glorious antiquary

Every curve and surface speaks to me

Saying pamper and spoil me

Sand me and oil me

Come on

Though it's expensive and it's tiring

What's more inspiring than re-wiring?

Just connect the AC to the DC, easy peasy

And done!

Folks say, "Adam...

Why are you fixing a crib

When you don't have a kid?

And even if you did have a kid

This crib is too precious for placing a baby inside it

So it simply exists to remind you

Your sense of perfection is just a reflection

That you are not mentally prepared

To make room for a kid, Adam

Why don't you live, Adam?

Just make a start"

Are you willing to take the next step?

Ready, set—

(electric fail sounds)

[BEETLEJUICE, spoken]

Uh-oh.

[BARBARA, spoken]

Fusebox again?

[ADAM, spoken]

Yeah, needs a new breaker

That's why I'm running all these crazy extension cords

Who was on the phone?

[BARBARA, spoken]

The O'Brian's!

[ADAM, spoken]

Oh!

[BARBARA, spoken]

They had the baby!

[ADAM, spoken]

Oh!

[BARBARA, spoken]

Yesterday...

[ADAM, spoken]

Oh..Great!

Well then, I guess there's no rush!

Can I make you some lunch, madame?

[BARBARA, spoken]

Oh! Make me a sandwich?

[ADAM, spoken]

One sandwich, coming up!

[BEETLEJUICE, spoken]

Spoiler alert, she is never gonna eat that sandwich.

[BARBARA, spoken]

Look at these jugs!

(sung)

Amazingly glazed and terracotta-ery

I took some clay and made you pottery

The world will never wreck you

I'll protect you in a mother's embrace

Folks say, "Barbara...

Why can't you see that ceramics

Is simply a manifestation of motherly panic

By making a baby that's breakable

Aren't you creating a way of translating the terror

Of making maternal mistakes into clay

Hiding away

So you don't have to face being a bad mom, Barbara

jesus-

That's what you've done, Barbara

Just make a start"

Are you willing to take the next step?

Ready, set—

[BOTH]

Here we stand

At the end of a 10-year plan

A house

A yard

A minivan

A baby should be next

Together let's leap off the cliff

Fall forever, then smash to bits

Trapped in a terrifying viper pit

Of diapers and regret

Are we willing to take the next step?

[ADAM]

Ready, set—

[BARBARA]

Ready, set—

[ADAM]

Not yet

[BARBARA]

Not yet

[ADAM]

Why rush?

[BARBARA]

Why rush?

[BOTH]

Soon enough, our hopes and our dreams will be crushed

[BARBARA]

But not yet!

[ADAM]

Not yet!

[BARBARA]

Not now

[ADAM]

Not now

[Electric sounds.]

[ADAM, spoken]

Ooohh?

[Electric sounds.]

[ADAM, spoken]

No!

[Electric sounds again.]

[ADAM, spoken]

See? We can't start a family in a house with faulty fuses!

[BARBARA]

You are absolutely right

Let's add it to the list

With the cracks in the plaster

[ADAM]

The wi-fi should be faster

[BARBARA]

This sofa needs a castor

[ADAM]

The wiring's a disaster!

[BARBARA]

What about global poverty?

[ADAM]

What about world peace?

[BARBARA]

Then there's the whole darn economy

[ADAM]

The whole Middle East

[BARBARA]

We should learn Mandarin

[ADAM]

Yeah!

Or Spanish at least

[BOTH]

No habla español

Dos cervezas, por favor

And that's all we got

And that's not a lot

Do we want a bilingual household or not?

So let's move forward

We're gonna turn up the juice

[ADAM, spoken]

We got a crib!

[BARBARA, spoken]

Let's have a kid!

[BOTH]

And put him to use

[BARBARA]

Yeah we're totally

[ADAM]

Completely

[BARBARA]

Out of every excuse

[ADAM]

And we're ready to take

[BOTH (BEETLEJUICE)]

Ready to take

The next step (Yeah! Yeah! Yeah Yeah!)

The next step (Zooby dooby dooby, dooby dop dop bow!)

The next step (Zweeby, beeby, boo-bah-bah-dee!)

The next step

Ready, set let's—

#Beetlejuice The Musical #Beetlejuice Tour #Beetlejuice Musical #Britney Coleman #Will Burton #Justin Collette #Ready Set Not Yet #Tour

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pangtasias-atelier · 9 months

Note

Hi there, it’s me @Fattyemblem !!! My previous account is unable to send direct asks into the ask box. (Just a little bug with my tumblr that I had recently) So I’ll be using an alternative account to ask for a little…silly request. (More of a multi-kink one if you’re comfortable with doing)

What about an AU where Owain goes on an exploration in a strange cave, only to end up crossing paths with a manakete (Technically Dragonfied) Navarre. One who’s already 15ft at stance, and also very alerted of the unexpected trespasser. Feeling surprisingly anxious, Owain frightfully offers a single piece of meat to the much taller male dragon. (In a way to spare him for a little longer lol) With the offering out of the way, Navarre is left intrigued. In a way, he demands of the human, Owain, to offer him more. ((Which ultimately ends up with the Dragonfied Navarre ending up in the 250 pound range from the spoils of food Owain has been giving him. XD))

(sorry if this was long for the description!!!)

I actually enjoyed this request a lot and like I said in my original requests post, "Specificity is sexy" ajansbjns. Cause this gave me a good base to work with and enjoyed.

There's a bit less kink in this but hopefully you still enjoy it!

Warning: This is a fetish story!

The Feroxi mountains a rather uninhabited area of the country, a lone swordsman travels through the perilous area. The nearest village is at least a day’s worth of travel. Owain walks in the opposite direction from having just visited what should have been a quaint town.

“Oh, I just know that such a beast will stand no chance against my sword hand,” Owain swings his blade. He manages to perfectly keep his balance despite being encumbered by all his belongings. His many, many belongings that he insisted on taking with him upon deciding to travel the continent of Ylisse. His yellow attire inspired by Chon'sin’s proficient swordmasters, his usual garbs are overladen by the addition of straps and satchels to hold all his provisions alongside a multitude of baubles and trinkets in remembrance of each and every stop he takes. The added weight only pushes Owain to hurry towards his destination, ready to add another memory and piece to his collection of treasure to him, junk to anyone else.

The mountains no longer having a name, the location all but forgotten long ago during Ylisse’s great geopolitical shakeup with the changing of borders and countries. Despite being in Ferox territory, Owain’s destination is closer to the bottom center of the enormous country, close enough to where Ylisse is closer than Plegia as he walks deeper into the country of warriors. He had even first heard the rumors of a ferocious beast on the Ylissean border. Rumors that immediately enraptured the svelte swordsman to change his route directly to the Feroxi mountains. And while the rumors of a ferocious beast changed into one of benevolence and mercy as he drew closer and closer to his destination, the common issue of a story twisting further and further from its source, Owain is always at the ready for a challenge.

Which he is as he grips his sword even tighter upon approaching the first cave he finds. “Beasts love caves, I’m sure of it. What other sort of monstrosity could reside in such an enormous cave?” The spacious entrance dwarfs Owain’s average sized frame. He basks in the deep, murky shadows that seem to refuse any light from entering. “I need to bask in this moment! To really take in everything before my victory,” Owain puffs his chest, the thin yet built pecs jutting outwards as he stands as tall as he can. His trembling legs tell a different story, both knees ready to buckle.

The very air itself feels different, the usually chilling Ferox’s fall much warmer near the cave. His skin twitches from the hot air that nips at his skin. The animals seem to heed nature’s warning. The area is clear of any wild animals or insects, the usual ambient sounds filled with dreadful silence.

Owain takes a deep breath. And another. And then several more while he waits for a beast who’d be so foolish as to challenge him. The tales of a merciful beast help ease Owain’s mind but they still don’t negate all the other stories of the death and destruction caused by a dangerous beast. “I know a beast is here! Come out and face your challenger,” Owain holds his trembling sword hand out for a challenge. “Only if you want to, that is,” He promptly adds.

Unfortunately for Owian, his opponent hears his challenge. And they respond by trembling the very ground. Rocks scatter and shift, the cluttered debris shaking from the periodic tremors.

“Wh- hey! I wasn’t serious about it! I only-” And then Owain sees the beast, his eyes catching the scarlet lava red scales of not a beast, but a dragon that dwarfs Owain. The dragon is nothing like the brilliant, vibrant majestic forms that he knows. Granted, the power that exudes from this dragon could never hope to live up to a divine dragon’s form, much less the very Divine Dragon King’s daughter. And yet, Owain knows he stands little chance on his own.

He finds himself unable to move, his legs stuck to the very spot. So he speaks, his words hopefully able to get him out of his mess much like how they always get him into them. “I-I’ve heard many regails of your merciful actions, dragon! The people praise you an-”

“Enough,” The dragon speaks. He stares at the human that he is now in front of. The pathetic human poses him no threat; but still, the irritating creature irks him. “Why are you here?”

“Ummm, to give an offering! As thanks for your actions of safeguarding this area,” Praying to Naga that the dragon doesn’t think he’s trying to reach for another weapon, Owain reaches and pulls out wrapped, cured meat from his pack. Holding it in his hands, he steadies his breathing as he slowly—slower than even his training sessions to practice thieves silent steps—walks towards the dragon and places the meat in front of him before backing up.

“And what have you heard of me?”

Owain’s eyes widen. He blankly stares at anything but the dragon, unable to even come up with even a lie. His gaze does shift towards the dragon—no, manakete—as the light nearly blinds him as they transform.

The manakete back in his human form, the slender frame the man possesses seems nothing like the powerful, bulky form filled with so much sheer power. His sleek black hair travels past his shoulder blades, some bits of the soft looking strands draping over his shoulders. Most importantly, the man still absolutely dwarfs Owain. He stands more than twice Owain’s stature, the average height man completely eclipsed by the titan who’s knees stand at his chest’s height.

“I will allow it,” The astonishingly tall man says as he sits down on the ground and digs into the meat given to him. His scarlet red clothes manage to somehow cover his expansive body. The strange attire resembles Owain’s own but aren’t quite close enough. “I only kill bandits, anyways,”

Owain, who is still struggling to come to terms with the man’s height, even Tiki’s statuesque figure that stands taller than every man he knows seems small in comparison. So, it takes him a few moments to comprehend the manakete’s words. But he lets out a sigh of relief when he does. “Oh thank, Naga,” His idiocy returns to him and he gets closer to take a seat on a rock a few feet away from the so-called beast. “So, what’s your name?” Owain asks without hesitation, leaning closer to the strange man.

“Navarre,” He plainly mutters after finishing the rest of the meat. “You have any more meat?” He asks afterwards.

Which Owain gladly shares with the surprisingly hungry manakete. He asks several questions of the giant for a man. He asks an absurd amount of questions, both pertaining about the very world, of which Navarre has few answers for from his hermit nature, and about himself, Navarre also having few answers from being unwilling to share. But, Owain persists with his pestering.

His pestering continues on for days, the swordsman unsurprisingly demanding when it comes to satisfying his curiosity. And even when Owain eventually has to leave, sure that everyone will presume him dead if he stays much longer, he promises to come back to visit his new friend despite the giant manakete’s objections to such a thing.

And Owain comes back to the Samsooth Mountains —the name of the area told to him by Navarre—only two weeks later. Just like last time, his figure is encumbered from all the bags and satchels he carries. But, each pack is nearly filled to the brim with food unlike last time.

“I’m back! I’m sure you're so excited to see the great Owain that you’ll tell me all about you,” Owain waves towards his friend who still lurks in the shadows. “I even brought you more food,”

“Enough,” Navarre glares at the wall upon the arrival of his pestering visitor.

Navarre’s head does slightly turn upon the mention of food. The food Owain left him clearly has done a slight number on his figure. Where a thin, svelte frame once was, a small layer of pudge occupies his figure. Navarre has a small belly now. His outline of his flabby stomach is now visible against his tight clothes. The belts around his waist aren’t as tight as they used to be, the straps of leather adjusted to only a couple notches away from the widest size where he needed them as small as possible around his formerly narrow waist. Navarre’s lithe arms now have a small bit of flab on them. The strength behind his arms are still visible, the small biceps instead covered by a small amount of adipose that have no issue with the loose short sleeves of his clothes. The shirt underneath does feel tight against his extra pudge; the fabric is even more wrinkled than usual with extra volume to cover. His pants that only have one side covered by his long robe face zero issue with the extra bit of flab on him from all his indulgent extra snacks. Especially when paired with Navarre’s regular hunts for food, the extra caloric intake nice despite the extra girth on his frame. He thankfully has nothing to worry about it with his shifted form unchanged. Even with the extra bit of pudge on his thighs, the two limbs getting close to the point of chafing his pants. His ass has also received a bit of pudge from his weight gain, the rear a bit heftier and thicker to the point where his robe shows the curvy, defined outline of it even when standing.

“I really don’t need the company,” And yet, Navarre stands up from the rock where he broods.He cranes his neck to look at his friendly pest. Careful to not send him flying by accidentally kicking him, he makes his way over closer to the entrance. He ignores the way the earth now begins to shake from his weight. The amount of pudge only a small amount of his body, the amount of weight needed to cover his fifteen feet tall body leaves him weighing far more than it seems. He also ignores the way Owain stares at him, the much shorter man coming close to having to lay down just to properly get a full look at the manakete. “And no, I won’t tell you how I became like this,” Navarre says as he slowly takes a seat and reaches for the offerings of food.

Owain pauses his eating, only finishing the food currently in his mouth before speaking. “Became? Aren’t all manaketes supposed to be like you know! Manaketes,”

“Don’t play stupid. Even you can tell something isn’t quite right. You know others, normal ones. I can smell the little girl’s scent on you,”

Owain’s eyes light up. “You mean Nah? Or maybe Nowi, she is older but she still-”

“Tiki,” Navarre clarifies to silence him. He finishes his bit of meat, plopping it down his hungry maw before reaching another one and continuing. “She must be much older now,”

“Sooo, you’ve been alive for thousands of years then. Did you know Marth then? Oh I’m sure Lucina would love to hear about him,”

“I fought him,” Navarre lets the words hang in the air. He reaches for another piece of meat.

“Oh,”

Navarre scoffs, the swordsmen far too simple minded at times. “I joined his cause, however. Not because of him, but because of Caeda,”

Owain wracks his brain for the information to place something to the name. “Caeda? Wasn’t it Shiida?” Nothing comes to Owain who only shrugs in apology.

“Oh how quickly you people forget. She convinced me to lend my sword to her cause, risking h-”

“You wield a sword!” Owain jumps up from his spot. His eyes sparkle amazement at the manakete in front of him. He closes them quickly afterwards as he holds the pack of his cramping neck. “Ow ow ow,”

“This was before this happened,” Navarre gestures at himself. Afterwards, he lets out a sigh as he leans back slightly, half from fullness and half from the memories. Despite his earlier annoyance from the insistent guest, he can’t help but let out a smile. “As long as you keep quiet, I’ll tell you all I know about Caeda and Marth from the two wars to defeat Medeus,”

Owain holds back his question upon the mention of a third person, instead nodding.

And so, Navarre recounts the events that are 2,000 years old. So much knowledge unable to be kept perfectly, a truth of life that Navarre knows well with his lifespan he never expected, the complete lack of knowledge of anyone still comes as a shock to him; but with the two of them having plenty of time, Navarre spares no expense regaling the tale of countless comrades and battles with finally having company after so much time alone.

And he does so with plenty of food, unable to help himself.

#my writing #fat emblem #male weight gain #feeder emblem #fat fiction #maleweightgain #ssbhm

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wren-kitchens · 2 years

Text

hanahaki (good ending)

TW: MENTIONS OF BLOOD (a LOT of mentions)

this is the 1st of 2 fics i’m gonna do— the backstory is grian got hanahaki on double life for scar, but scar thought it was for bigb and whoops! turns out it carries over servers and now grian has it on hermitcraft

this one is hurt/comfort and mostly fluff

scar hasn’t seen grian in a week.

that, in and of itself, is not too unusual— the avian often fixates on building and forgets to do much else — but even mumbo hasn’t seen him. the last time someone saw him, he was going down into the rift.

so, when scar flies down and spots grian curled up in a ball, not moving, you can understand his panic.

“grian!” he keeps his elytra on and flies over to him. he’s covered in blood and there’s a puddle slowly dribbling down his cheek. oddly, he’s also covered in lilac and poppy petals. his eyes are glassy, but when he sees scar, they unmist.

“hello.” grian smiles. his voice is hoarse. “sorry for the state i’m in.”

“grian, what happened?” scar asks urgently.

“hanahanki.” grian mumbles. “I ran out of food, and I can’t fly back up.”

“hana-“ scar can’t help feeling disappointed. then, incredibly panicked. “hanahaki?! what- how long have you had this?!”

“since double life.” grian says.

bigb. of course.

“alright, i’m going to get you somewhere nicer than down here, okay?” scar says. “can I carry you?”

grian seems a little more alert now. he coughs up another bloodstained petal. “you- yes, you can.”

scar gently picks grian up. it’s lucky, really, that he is an avian— their bones are hollow. on the way, scar gives grian some of his golden carrots, and he perks up a little.

when they get to his tree, scar sets grian down on his bed and starts to rummage through his cupboards, unequipping his elytra and grabbing his cans again.

“alright, take these.” he hands grian a large bucket, a health potion and a regeneration potion. “blood and petals go in the bucket and not on my nice clean sheets. drink the potions. they might make you a bit.. ah, loopy. but it may stop the blood, at least a bit.”

despite the fact that he is covered in dried blood and wilted petals, grian is still gorgeous.

“thank you.” grian says, voice hoarse.

“yeah, you should be thanking me.” scar turns back to the cupboards, searching for anything that could help. “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“I thought you might hate me.” grian says. “oh- that’s strong.” he adds, presumably talking about the potions.

“why would I hate you?” scar frowns at a gardening book.

“well. you know.” grian says, meek.

scar does know. double life was, as expected, a mess of emotions. there was a lot of sneaking around behind his back from grian. scar resents what happened, but does he hate grian?

“I could never hate you, you know.” scar glances over his shoulder at grian. “besides,” he continues, resuming his search for useful things. “what you do in the games don’t count. we all do crappy things, that’s just their nature.”

there’s the sound of coughing and a wet splat. “yeah.” grian’s voice is cracking.

“I mean it.” scar tells him, facing him now. “I forgive you.”

grian’s eyes go a bit watery. “thank you.” he says. he winces, putting a hand to his throat.

“i’m gonna get you a throat lozenge.” scar decides.

“no, it’s fine.” grian says. “you don’t have to.”

“i’m still gonna get you one.”

admittedly, scar got a little carried away. he renters the room five minutes later, arms full of spare clothes, blankets and a cloth (he had to temporarily equip his elytra again to carry it all). he also forgot the lozenge.

“wow, i’m being spoiled.” grian chuckles weakly.

“yup.” scar dumps the pile onto the bed. “you and your clothes are covered in blood. change into them and wash up.”

he makes to leave the room again, to give grian some privacy, but grian grabs his wrist.

“um. could you.. help me? I don’t think I can stand.” grian says shyly.

scar softens. “‘course.”

it takes a bit of wiggling (wings are incredibly annoying when you’re trying to take something sticky off) and a lot of flushed faces, but they manage to take grian’s sweater and shirt off. scar is taller than grian, so the spare shirt falls down to grian’s thighs and the sleeves stop past his elbows.

“well, at least it’s clean.” scar says, trying to stifle a laugh.

“I look minuscule in this.” grian deadpans.

“yeah, well you were the one who lay in the ravine for however long without asking for help.” scar says. “just be thankful you have wing holes.”

luckily, grian finds a way to wiggle out of his trousers on his own— scar is very glad of that— and only needs help standing to get the spare ones on.

“so, what’re these for?” grian asks, gesturing towards the blankets and cloth as scar picks up his cane again.

“well, this,” scar picks up the cloth. “is to clean all the blood off you. the blankets are for after. you think you can clean your face on your own?” it’s supposed to be a joke, but apparently the medicine is starting to kick in faster than anticipated, so he’s getting a little tired.

“why are we in your tree anyway?” grian asks as scar cleans the blood off his cheek.

“it’s magical here.” scar says, focused on not making eye contact. he tilts grian’s head up slightly. “makes people feel better.”

“I think it works.” grian says. “I do feel better.”

“gee, wonder why that is.” scar jokes.

grian giggles quietly. “alright, you get some of the credit. but most of it goes to magic tree.”

“I made the magic tree.” scar points out. “so technically I get all the credit.”

grian hums. “you know, I always forget how nice you look with long hair.” he reaches a hand out and runs a hand through scar’s hair. scar thinks he might die. “it’s pretty.”

scar frowns a little before realising. “oh, I think the medicine’s kicked in.” he chuckles.

“hurts less.” grian nods.

scar takes a step back, having cleaned off the blood. “there we go, all good.” he says.

“come sit.” grian pats the bed next to him.

who is scar to disagree?

as soon as he sits down on the bed, grian smiles and leans sideways, resting his head on scar. a wing wraps around his shoulders.

“hello.” grian smiles. “you’re beautiful.”

scar’s face flushes. he’s not thinking straight, he reminds himself, he doesn’t mean it. “you’re not too bad yourself.” he chuckles.

grian makes a little humming noise, then coughs, pressing a hand to his mouth quickly. scar leans over and takes the bucket from the bed, passing it to him.

grian coughs again, into the bucket this time, but some blood goes onto the blanket in his lap.

“you okay?” scar asks, a little concerned as grian starts to tear up.

“I got blood on your blankets.” he says, voice wavering.

“aw- grian, it’s alright.” scar smiles gently, stroking his hair. “it’s okay.”

“i’m sorry.” grian sniffs, snuggling closer to scar.

“it’s okay.” scar says. “you didn’t mean to.” scar rubs a thumb behind grian’s ear and he makes a quiet chirping noise. it makes scar’s heart leap.

“you’re my favourite person.” grian mumbles, a sleepy smile on his face.

“and you’re my favourite person.” scar tells him. “I just wish I could help you more.”

“mm?” grian hums, the end lilting higher. “help me more?”

“stop the blood and flowers.” scar explains. “I don’t know how.”

“‘the cure for hanahaki is the genuine confession of love from the one who made the flowers bloom’.” grian recites.

“oh. okay. no, we can do that.” scar says, thinking of the logistics of inter-server portals. “but- wait, genuine confession?”

grian nods, looking proud of himself. “I read the book about it.”

“how are we gonna get that?” scar mutters, more to himself than grian. “I mean, the whole reason you have this is unrequited love.”

“doesn’t actually have to be unrequited.” grian pipes up. “just believed to be.”

“okay, so we just need to get bigb here, and then we-“

“bigb?” grian frowns. wow he’s more out of it than scar thought.

“yes, your flowers are for him.” scar explains.

grian giggles, shaking his head. “noo~.”

“no?” scar asks, butterflies in his stomach.

“hmm.” grian hums happily. “nope! for you, silly.”

scar’s entire face goes red, his heart pounding. “you- for me? you mean..”

grian nods, smiling. “yep! I love you.” he drags out the ‘u’ sound.

“I- goodness. I never thought-“ he stammers. “I love you too, grian,”

grian beams. suddenly, his eyes widen and he sits bolt upright, grabbing the bucket. his coughing sounds more like choking, and for a moment scar is terrified. then, there’s a thumping in the bucket, and grian inhales sharply.

“are you okay?” scar asks, panicked.

“flowers.” grian says, staring at the bucket.

scar follows his gaze. sure enough, at the bottom of the bucket is a lilac and a poppy, accompanied with a considerable amount of blood.

“I can breathe better.” grian says. his voice is slightly faraway sounding.

“you should get some sleep.” scar says firmly.

“stay with me?” grian asks, hand in scar’s.

and, well. how could he say no?

—-

grian wakes up, and immediately notices three things. number one: there’s a strong smell of cookies. number two: he can breathe properly now. number three: his clothes are on the end of the bed, folded and clean.

he rubs his eyes, sitting up. it turns out he’s in scar’s bed, wrapped in at least two blankets, one with a small red stain on. luckily, he is wearing clothes— they’re too big for him, so he assumes they’re scar’s.

immediately flustered at the thought of wearing scar’s clothes, he hurriedly takes them off, jamming his sweater over his head and navigating the wings through the holes in the back. the hem of the jumper goes down to just above his knees.

he’s knocked his trousers off the bed, and as he goes to pick them up, he notices a bucket, stained with dry blood. inside are the petals of poppies and lilacs, and one of each flower, both bloodied as well. he frowns at it for a moment, wondering what it is, before his memories come flooding back to him.

grian told scar he loved him. and scar told grian he loved him right back.

he sits back down on the bed. wow. okay. his hanahaki is gone now. because scar loves him, which he knows for definite, after so long of doubting and pining. and he knows this because grian told scar that he loves him.

it doesn’t quite click until now. they love each other. they actually love each other.

so what’s he doing sitting here?!

“scar!” grian races down the stairs, not bothering to put his trousers on. “scar!”

grian bursts into the kitchen, effectively scaring the life out of scar, who was wafting a tray of steaming cookies with an oven glove (he’s dropped the glove out of surprise).

“oh! oh my goodness! you can’t scare a man like that!” scar turns, one hand on his heart. “I take it you’re feeling better?” he doesn’t say anything about grian’s lack of trousers, but his face flushes pink when he looks at him.

“yes.” grian says, slightly out of breath from running down the stairs (and maybe scar’s bed-head). “hello.”

“hello.” scar says. “what’re you doing up so early?”

“I- um. well, I wanted to thank you. for helping me yesterday. and to say that i’m sorry.” grian fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeves, suddenly nervous. “I should have told you about it before I, ah. almost died.” he chuckles.

“oh, don’t apologise.” scar tells him, smiling easily. “how could I be mad at you for that?”

grian smiles, slightly shyly. “you’ve always been too sweet for your own good.” he says.

“you’re a hypocrite sometimes.” scar grins. “you called me pretty at least three times last night.”

“yeah, well, I basically got fed a truth potion.” grian says.

“I did tell you it would make you go a bit loopy.” scar says.

“I didn’t expect that.” grian says, feeling his face flush.

“i’m not complaining.” scar winks. grian’s heart flutters.

“okay, well, since I did a poor job of it yesterday, I wanna do it again.” grian decides. “this may be equally bad, but oh well.”

he moves closer to scar and takes his hand. “I have loved you for.. years now. and I am so terrible at expressing it, that i never was able to tell you, but I can now.” grian smiles up at scar, who looks completely lovestruck. grian supposes he looks like that too. “I love you, scar. I completely, utterly, irreversibly love you, and i’m going to love you until I die, so I may as well say it now.”

scar breathes out, slightly shakily. “can- can I kiss you? I kind of need to kiss you right now.”

grian grins. “absolutely.”

scar takes his free hand out of grian’s and instead cups his cheek, tilting his face upwards. grian rises on his toes and closes the gap between them.

scar runs his fingers through grian’s hair, and he melts. he never thought that he’d be able to do this, and now he can, he finds doesn’t ever want to stop.

however they do need to breathe, and break apart after a moment. they stare at each other for a beat.

“wow.” scar breathes. “you’re good at that.”

“you’re not too bad yourself.” grian manages. scar doesn’t miss the reference to what he told grian last night, if his blush and sheepish expression is anything to go by.

“I really love you.” scar says, smiling.

grian hugs scar, face red. “I love you too.”

#endings remain my worst enemy #this took ages to finish idk why #tw blood #hanahaki #scarian #desert duo #double life ficlet #hermitcraft ficlet #hanahaki (good ending)#hermitshipping #trafficshipping

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marsrize · 2 years

Text

SURPRISE! [Part 4 of 5]

Part 1: Here | Part 2: Here | Part 3: Here | Part 5: Here

SUMMARY: Jason discovers that he has a daughter.

Warning: Some colorful langage.

Chapter 4: WHAT?!

Jason was packing up his new apartment. After Bruce's disappearance, Dick contacted him and asked him to attend an emergency family reunion in Gotham. He couldn't refuse his brother this favor, although he would never admit it. Bruce had left behind two kids far too young to take care of themselves.

Damian was only 10 years old, having joined the family just under a year ago.

Marinette was only 8 years old. She and Damian did not get along at all. They both had the same problem: they were spoiled rotten.

Bruce had clearly destroyed the little girl by always giving her what she wanted and letting her every whim pass without consequence. Damian had the same problem; his mother had made him believe that he was some kind of prince and that the world should revolve around him.

A self-centered prince and a quirky little princess... An atrocious mix.

He didn't want to leave Dick alone to face all this.

It was true that the two men had not always been on good terms, that his resurrection and his aggressive behavior had not helped. It had been a little over a year since he had calmed down and gradually started to get closer to Nightwing again. His relationship with Batman was still complicated. His relationship with Tim was... strange. The kid had forgiven him for his past mistakes, however, Jason on the other hand was having trouble forgetting what he had done. He didn't know how to apologize for it either...

He knew that Tim was still with his friends, but that he was on his way to Gotham. They were going to have to decide what to do with the legacy Bruce had left them, and by legacy, he wasn't just thinking about Batman. What to do with Wayne's enterprise? Who was going to take care of it? Should it be announced that Batman was dead? Who would take over the burden?

Even dead, you're still a pain in the ass, Bruce.

Suddenly, his phone started ringing. Jason was going to ignore it, but then he realized it was Dick.

Strange.

He picked up his phone.

"What?"

"Jason... Are you... Are you alone?"

Dick's voice was hesitant. It alerted Jason immediately. Was there more bad news to add to the pile of crap Bruce's disappearance had caused?

"Yeah, why?"

"I... Can I come over? I... I need to talk to you... It's... It's important. It concerns you directly.

"Hm."

Jason chose not to argue or ask for more, if Dick wanted to see him in person then the problem was serious enough that he didn't want anyone to know.

The man sighed.

He went to his kitchen and began to make coffee. He had a feeling he was going to need a huge dose of caffeine in his bloodstream to take in what Dick had to say.

*********

"I....... I'm not sure I got it all right, can you do it again?"

Dick sighed. This was the third time he'd repeated the same thing over and over.

"Marinette is Xia-Bing's daughter, and yours by the same token."

" .... "

"Yes, I did the tests again, over twenty times."

" ... "

"Yes, Leslie confirmed it."

" ... "

"No, Alfred didn't know about it. He found out at the same time as Damian, and I did."

" ... "

"No Jay, I don't know why Bruce lied to us all these years."

" ... "

"No, Damian won't say anything right now. I managed to convince him to keep it a secret, I think Alfred talked to him too."

" ......... "

"And... no, I don't think Marinette knows. She calls Bruce ‘Daddy’. That's why I came to you first. I want to know what you want to do... We tell her the truth... or..."

" ...... "

Dick sighed.

"I'll let you think about it. The family reunion is in a week. It would be nice if you knew what you wanted to do before then."

Dick laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Whatever you decide, I'll support you."

Jason nodded vaguely.

It was impossible to tell how long he sat there on that couch, staring completely blankly. By the time he realized it, the sun had already set, it was night. Jason was completely in the dark.

He had a daughter.

With Xia-Bing.

The spoiled little girl he thought was his sister (and couldn't stand) was actually his daughter.

Marinette-Jayna Wayne.

Bruce had given "Jayna" as her middle name.

Bruce...

Bruce had named this little girl "Jayna".

Bruce.... Not only had he replaced him by giving the title of Robin to someone else... He had also...

He had dared....

He had transposed Jason onto Marinette...

Jason tried to calm himself by controlling his breathing, but he was finding it increasingly difficult.

A seething anger was consuming him. Xia-Bing had abandoned their child. She had abandoned the baby... She... WHY? Didn't everything they had experienced together count for anything? If he hadn't died, would she have had an abortion without telling him?

Just... WHY?!

How dare she?

WHY?

And that bastard ............................. HOW COULD HE KEEP SOMETHING LIKE THAT FROM HIM?

SHE WAS HIS DAUGHTER DAMN IT!

Was that bastard ever going to tell him the truth?!

Damn it...

Jason held his head with both hands. All he wanted to do was scream.

If he had known....

Hell, if he'd known Xia was pregnant, he never would have left.

He loved her.

Damn it.

He loved her so much.

That girl was everything to him.

She was a refuge.

She was his backbone, his strength.

Jason had plans.... For them.

He would do anything for her.

ANYTHING.

Even agreed to be a young parent. If she was the one giving him the child.

Xia... Why?

He had a daughter.

All these lost years....

All this time he thought he was alone, and now he found out he had someone who shared his flesh and blood.

Bruce had completely destroyed the girl. She was a little girl who had no sense of the value of the things around her. She was selfish, didn't care what people thought as long as she got what she wanted. Hell... He had even heard from Tim that Bruce had given her an island as a birthday present... WHO GIVES AN ENTIRE ISLAND TO A 4-YEAR-OLD BABY?!

What to do?

Would Marinette accept it? She hardly knew him. They had hardly ever spoken together.

Did he want to take on the role of a father? After all this time... After all he had done?

Could he even judge Bruce? The man had given everything to Marinette. Would he have been able to give her that much affection?

Did he have the right to destroy a little girl's life? Because it was bound to have an impact on her... From one day to the next, she would learn that the man she thought was her father was not...

This little girl's life was a lie.

Okay, it's official. I hate you, Bruce.

********************************

Tag list : @ prettylittlebutterflie,@ mic-is-dead , @ ouch-whytho , @ yurijay , @ unoriginalmess , @ vroomtaka , @ khneltea , @ starling218 , @ throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen , @ lunabey2sky, @ kking13 , @ literaryhiraeth , @ frieddonutsweets , @ depressed-bitchy-demon , @ yasmin-rdz , @ laurcad123 , @ toodaloo-kangaroo , @babylovebug18

#maribat fic #maribat bio dad #maribat batfam #maribat bio dad jason #mlb x batman #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous

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nervousbelieverstarfish · 1 year

Text

I posted 1,117 times in 2022

That's 917 more posts than 2021!

276 posts created (25%)

841 posts reblogged (75%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@sofilandstuff

@buggachat

@iwasbored777

@akumatizedcamembert

@mons-chatter

I tagged 519 of my posts in 2022

#miraculous ladybug - 280 posts

#chat noir - 280 posts

#ml - 272 posts

#adrien agreste - 272 posts

#ladybug - 272 posts

#mlb - 269 posts

#miraculous - 268 posts

#marinette dupain cheng - 267 posts

#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir - 266 posts

#miraculous ladybug and cat noir - 266 posts

Longest Tag: 100 characters

#i kept the strange name you used to call me when you were learning to speak as my nickname everywere

My Top Posts in 2022:

So, Gloob is going to air episodes 12 and 18, when all we got till now are the first 9 episodes.

I know the mayor part of the fandom will watch them despite they're out of order, but I'm not gonna do that.

In this season the chronological order is more important than ever, every episode is interconnected with the others. Just imagine for a moment watching episode 9 without watching the previous 8 first. That would be pretty confusing, right?

For this reason, many people around are considering the possibility of not watching them, especially episode 18, but the same amount of them are afraid of being spoiled anyway by social media, and for this reason they'll watch them even if they'll ruin their experience with the show doing so.

What I'm here for today is asking all of you to not take away from us the freedom to decide.

When the episodes airs, if you want to watch them and rumble about them over social media, please use the proper precautions:

Tumblr: use the #*episode name* spoilers tag instead of just the #ml spoilers one, so we can block the specific tag for those episodes without cutting off ourselves from the rest of the season

Instagram: add spoiler warnings as the first 2 images of your posts (because IG will show you again a post in your feed if you just ignore it, but offering you the second slide instead) specifying the name of the involved episode; when you share spoilers in your stories, cover them with a spoiler alert sticker or share the slide with the warning instead

TikTok: add a couple of seconds at the beginning of your videos where you just put a spoiler warning with the name of the "spoiled" episode

Twitter: other than the #MLBS5Spoilers tag, use a tag with the episode name, #MLBPerfectionSpoilers and #MLBEmotionSpoilers should do the job

Please share these simple guidelines with everyone you know: reblog, screenshot, repost, I don't care! Just spread the word!

We can do this.

Stay strong, stay Miraculous!

1,613 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

Chat Noir: *actually worried about using the cataclysm on Monarch*

Ladybug:

Monarch:

See the full post

1,743 notes - Posted October 19, 2022

Thank you, Nathalie, for bringing the fandom message

2,229 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

Actual footage of Marinette realizing she fell for Chat Noir

2,550 notes - Posted October 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Basically.

4,733 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #no one can beat Dog!Felix #isn't he a good boy?#no #no he is not #bad doggo #>:(

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tua-masked-author · 2 years

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Guide to submitting your 3MA Masked Author fic

As we’ve got some debut authors joining us, and some authors who have never used the AO3 collections or anonymous features before, we’ve written a quick (and hopefully helpful!) guide on uploading your fic to the event! You can view the TUA Masked Author: 3MA collection [here]. For experienced AO3 uploaders - please still check the general notes at the end to make yourself aware of the known anonymity glitches. Thanks :)

What is below the cut:

I’ve never uploaded a fic before: General basics of AO3

I’ve not used collections before: How to add your fic to the collection when uploading

How do I make my fic anonymous / not-anonymous?

Notes for all - how not to accidentally spoil things

Can I upload my fic before submission week?

I’ve never uploaded a fic before: General basics for AO3

Uploading a fic to AO3 for the first time can seem daunting, but it is actually pretty straight forward once you know what you are doing!

AO3 have an in-depth tutorial on how to post a work [here]

They also have a full FAQ on a much wider range of topics such as tags, formatting content with html (if you want), more information about collections etc. which you can view [here]

You don’t need to know html to upload a fic to AO3, as you can choose to use a plain text box for your own html, or a rich text editor which will accept already formatted (bold / italics / underline) text copy-pasted from your word editor of choice.

I’ve not used collections before: How to add your fic to the collection when uploading it

It is important that you add your fic to the collection when you first upload it and before you publish it, in order to maintain anonymity and not alert any user subscribers that you may have. But luckily, it’s very simple to add your fic to a collection.

In the “Associations” section, beneath where you can add authors notes, there is an option “Post to Collections / Challenges”.

Begin to type “TUA Masked Author 3MA 2022” into the text box, and like with the tagging system, you should be offered a drop down of collections. Select the collection “TUA Masked Author 3MA 2022 (TUA_Masked_Author_3MA_2022). And that’s it - that’s all you need to do to add your fic to our collection. We will manage the rest.

[I.D. screenshot of the Archiveofourown.org fic uploading screen demonstrating the drop down menu of suggested collections, with a arrow pointing to the event collection “TUA Masked Author 3MA 2022 TUA_Masked_Author_3MA_2022)”]

How do I make my fic anonymous/not-anonymous?

Don’t worry - we will do all that for you! By adding your fic to the collection, it will automatically be turned anonymous. At the end of the event on the author-reveal day, we will change the collection settings to take anonymous off, and your fic will then appear on your dashboard with your name as normal. Any of your user subscribers will then be notified by email that you’ve posted a new fic, and your comment replies will change from ‘anonymous creator’ to your AO3 name.

Notes for all - how not to accidentally spoil things

There are a couple of traps you may (accidentally) fall into - please just skim this list before you upload your fic to make sure you don’t make one of these mistakes.

You must add your fic to the collection when you upload your fic for the first time, for your identity to be concealed immediately - if you do it after then your fic will have shown up (briefly) in the listing with your name attached, and anybody who is user-subscribed to you will have gotten an email alerting them to your new fic!

If you intend to make your fic part of a series, do not add it to the series during the event - adding fics to series makes the anonymous work show up on your dashboard - alerting anybody who looks at your dashboard that you wrote it, even though it will still say anonymous. Once the authors have been revealed, you can add it to your series as normal.

Can I upload my fic before the submission week?

Yes! If you want to upload it now so you can tweak layout/tags etc, or you know you won’t be able to upload during the official submission window, you can upload to the collection now. It is set to be unrevealed until submission officially opens, so anybody viewing the collection will see “Mystery work” until the event starts.

If you do this, you may want to edit your fic’s publication date during submission week so that it appears on the first page when people sort by the newly uploaded/updated - you can see how to alter your publication date [here]. Please only update your fic’s publication date once.

#tua masked author #3MA #the umbrella academy #tua fandom #tua #tua fic #authors guide to posting a fic

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the12thnightproject · 2 years

Text

A Mitsunari Night's Dream Chapter 9: A Tangled Web

In which Nobunaga trolls, Hideyoshi fumes, Mitsuhide teases and Okatsu's nightmare returns. Luckily Mitsunari knows what to do about the latter...

Chapter Excerpt:

One…two…three…

Once I had completed a ten count, I directed my voice to the stall where Kyubei was hiding. “Did you get all that?”

His head popped up and he peered over the stable wall. “I would have had to have significant hearing loss to have missed it. Impressive accomplishment, Okatsu, to have received two marriage proposals in a month.”

The dark wig looked natural enough, but there was no disguising those amber eyes and the teasing in his voice. “Changed your mind about the situation, or were you and Kyubei always planning to switch places?” I would bet all of my money (not that I have much of it) that Hideyoshi didn’t know Mitsuhide was here.

“I needed Kyubei to be elsewhere.” He hopped out of the stall and leaned against a post. Heck, put a piece of straw between his teeth and he could easily pass as an extra in a western musical. Hm. An elegant extra.

Many questions were in my head, but those could wait. “Am I completely wrong in thinking that any overture from Mozumi advancing Shohime as a wife would receive a categorical no?” It was clear how much Nobunaga loved Mai, but that wouldn’t rule out a second wife. “I don’t see any advantage to it. Although I suppose he could offer exclusive rights to the silver mine.”

“He could. It wouldn’t be the wisest strategy.” Mitsuhide picked up a fallen piece of fruit and fed it to my horse. “I’ll investigate that further, as from what I’ve gathered from the servants, Mozumi’s not particularly intelligent, so any talk of aligning Shohime with Nobunaga is wishful thinking on his part.”

“His archives, is, as advertised, rather expansive, but I got the sense most of what is in there was collected by his father, and he only adds to it out of habit, not out of inclination or love of reading… except for a certain type of literature.” For the second time, I had to tell the story about Mozumi’s pillow books and his clumsy pass at me.

Unlike Mai, Mitsuhide kept his face expressionless as I described the incident, though once I finished the story, he reverted to teasing. “Not interested in those books yourself?” He raised his eyebrow at me (which annoyed me, as the single eyebrow raise was a skill I had attempted and failed to master).

“Princess Okatsu is above such things.” Whereas Katsuko… well, love took a back seat to not-dying. “And I ensured that Mozumi thought I was too stupid or naïve to understand.”

“I didn’t anticipate that you would have to put up with that sort of behavior – the Oda name ought to have been enough to protect you. I’ll give you a standard, Hideyoshi-style be careful warning, but will step back from any insinuation that you can’t handle him.” Then he spoiled that perfectly acceptable speech by adding, “hopefully better than you can handle intruders of the eight-legged variety.”

“Do I have permission to be insubordinate and tell you to shut up?” I swear by the time I left this gig, I would be remembered as The Girl with the Spider Tit-too.

He slanted a cool glance that told me not to push him too far. “I believe you just did.”

Turning the topic to more pressing issues, I asked, “Any new instructions? Or should I just continue to stay alert?”

“The latter for now. If you see anyone spinning lies, you may feel free to catch them in your web.” He then effectively ended the conversation by disappearing into that empty stall.

I stood there for a moment trying to come up with a capper pun to that, then gave up and headed back to the room, only to be stopped in my tracks by Hideyoshi. “Okatsu.” Aware that he preferred the formalities, I bowed to him. What did he want? “You shouldn’t be wandering around a strange castle at night. It’s not safe.”

“Oh. I was just checking on my horse.” As for the rest of his statement, I could take care of myself, but knew Hideyoshi would not appreciate that being pointed out. “I’m going back to our room now.”

“See that you do.” I’d half turned to continue on my way, when he called after me. “Mitsunari told me what happened with Mozumi. I’m sorry.”

“Why? It had nothing to do with you.” Unless he was apologizing on behalf of the entire male sex.

“You should never be subjected to unwanted attention.” He paused a moment, then clarified. “No one should.”

“You’re right, Lord Hideyoshi. Thank you.” I bowed again and hurried on my way. Hideyoshi and I might be behaviorially incompatible, but I’d never questioned that underneath that bossy exterior, he was a good person.

Link to full chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37708576/chapters/96833061

@ocfairygodmother @ocappreciation

#ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikesen fanfic #mitsunari ishida #ikemen mitsunari #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen mai #ao3 link #ocfairygodmother #oc community #fanfic #ikesen fanfiction

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