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stetervault · 5 years

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Hi there could you possibly recommend your personal fave steter (or stetopher) fics from this year? :) Appreciate your blog!

This is so late, sorry. I haven’t been on to do more than queue a few posts lately. But recent faves, I can do that. Here are some off the top of my head:

Call Me, Call Me Any, Anytime by Triangulum

In which Stiles is a phone sex operator, Peter is searching for his soulmate, and Erica has a telephonic ding dong ditcher.

Rewriting the future by Synesthetic (this one finished recently but started like three years ago, it’s very good if you’re into abo verse with plot)

Two days before their planned bonding, alpha Derek Hale runs away with his secret beta girlfriend, leaving Stiles heartbroken. With the demands of his omega physiology forcing him to bond with someone before his first heat, Derek’s uncle Peter steps in and offers a solution.

Keep You (Safe) Within my Shadow by lavenderlotion

Stiles has never been scared of the dark. The shadows are his friends.

Pin Feathers and Primaries by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids) (wing fic + fluffy hurt/comfort + sexy times, what more do you need ;))

Peter’s wings remained sensitive after his resurrection.

They were perfect again; perfect white coverts with perfect black primaries. Perfectly glossy feathers, perfectly oiled and perfectly clean. No more twisted flesh. No more mangled plumage. No more broken blood feathers, jaggedly screaming for relief.

His wings were perfect.

The were perfect, and it chafed him that he had to remind himself of that now rather than simply know.

Wind Chimes by wynnebat (SO GOOD, i want like 50k more ugh)

“Why are you here?” Peter asks, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I can understand curiosity, but Stiles, you have visited me nearly every day for years. It can’t be that simple.”

Stiles shrugs. It’s both simple and not. For him, who grew up with the wind, who is inseparable from it in the best of ways, it is absurdly simple. For Peter, who doesn’t trust the wind as Stiles does, it may not be. “The wind says you’re mine. That’s all I need.”

A Love for Millennia (a story never told) by OneSmartChicken

Stiles had to go into the woods that night. It didn’t make sense. She was lured by the sense of adventure, but there was a more that dragged at her.

Or: Stiles is the only one to realize she and Peter are soulmates. She doesn’t mention it.

Signal on the Mountain by bellefire (this is a wip but i really like this one, the train station realm in the Ghost Riders arc had so much potential for worldbuilding/development, I have like half a dozen ideas based on that myself lmao and one of these days maybe i’ll even finish one fml. anyway, definitely check this one out, idk what Archive 81 is but i understood everything fine.)

In which Peter and Stiles find a way out of the station on their own and the two end up somewhere else. Somewhere familiar and altogether different. A place in between, where time is different, strange creatures roam and all the while the world outside moves on, unstoppable as a train.

Robber Foxes (Have No Fears) by RayShippouUchiha (wip but another big fave, i am eagerly waiting for the next chapter)

In the end all Stiles really has left is his dad, a lonely house, the key and deed to the loft, and a chest filled up with emptiness.

A void, yawning right behind his sternum.

That and the laughter of a fox trapped right beneath his skin, echoing in the hollows of his skull, whispering behind his teeth.

Stiles should have known it wasn’t over.

Magic stains everything it touches after all.

From Ashes Rebuilt by ambersagen (murderbaby!stiles)

“You shouldn’t be alive,” Stiles finally admitted. He sounded sorry, smelled like anxiety and hunched in on himself as he fell back from Peter to land in the dented chair. “I heard the doctors telling your niece. She wasn’t quiet about it, and no one cares if I’m around anyway so I heard the whole thing, about your burns. I snuck in to see you.”

“Like a sideshow freak,” Peter sneered, starting to understand.

“Like a miracle,” Stiles corrected.

You Are A Call To Motion by neglectedtuesday

Here at Hale Industries ® we don’t believe in limiting one’s pleasure. That’s why we’re dedicated to bringing our clientele the best in Jackbot technology. Whether you’re a busy dom in need of a service sub or a baby boy desperate for an Alien Daddy, Hale Industries ® has the perfect bot for you. Built to your specifications, our customer service team is devoted to building a bot that will never fail to meet your needs. And if you discover something new you want to try, you can subscribe to our monthly upgrade packages in order to add or remove kinks at your leisure.

Hale Industries ® - The Only Limits Are The Ones We Place On Ourselves.

Here Begins the Land of Phantoms by Triangulum

Stiles is four and scared of the dark. There are things in the shadows of his room, whispering to him, showing him terrible, violent things.

There’s something in the basement, too. He can feel it while he’s sitting on the old, worn sofa, its presence curling around the edges of the room. He thinks he can see something sometimes, a mass shimmering in the corner, but he always looks away. He doesn’t want to know.

Peter is a demon that lives in the Stilinskis’ basement.

Where I Want to Be by Tahlruil

Peter wasn’t exactly surprised when he ‘woke up’ in hell.

He’d known his wounds were fatal as soon as he’d gotten them. In truth he’d never expected to still be standing after his quest for revenge had been completed. What mattered was taking the Argent family down with him and making sure they died before he did. Peter had saved Kate and Gerard for last; they had looked into his eyes as they bled out. They had known that he was the instrument of their family’s doom and he couldn’t ask for more than that.

On Edge by Bunnywest

“What do you mean, Stiles is missing?” Peter demands, scowling at the phone.“Missing, Hale! Can you help find him or not?” The sheriff’s voice cracks, and Peter can tell he’s out of his mind with worry. Peter doesn’t blame him.

In which Stiles gets bitten by a rogue alpha and bolts into the preserve, terrified and out of control.Peter’s the one best qualified to find him, because Stiles is Peter’s mate.Peter maybe hasn’t quite gotten around to telling him that part yet, but Stiles is his, and he’s damned if he’s going to lose him to some feral alpha.He’s going to find his boy, bring him home, and as for the rest? Well, Peter has a plan.It’s Peter. He always has a plan.

Kissing Air by Ragga

“Listen, I’m going to be straight with you. Just before I arrived, I—figured out some very alarming things that I feel you should know.”

Peter tilted his head. His eyes roamed over Chris’ face before flicking over to his steadily beating chest.

“What is it?”

“You should stay away from Stilinski.”

Roots of Silver by Werif_esteria

Peter stalks through the narrow confines of his kitchen three times before the Alpha madness clears from his mind and he can finally figure out what it is that’s changed the air in his home.

He’s not alone.

And from the newest batch of Steter fics that just came out for Steter Reverse Bang, I’ve only had time to read these two:

Into Eden by GracieBirdie

Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he’d hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn’t turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.

Something Powerful Between Your Thighs by Bunnywest

Someone’s actually replied.Fuck.

I’ll give you what you need, pretty boy. And you can call me Sir.

The hairs on the back of Stiles’s neck prickle at that, and his dick throbs. He clicks on the profile and the picture that pops up is UN-FUCKING-FAIR. Jesus Christ on a bicycle, nobody should look like that. The man’s staring into the camera, a smile that’s almost a sneer on his face. And what a face it is. Intense blue eyes, cheekbones like cut glass, and a strong jawline covered in the perfect amount of stubble. His neck, what Stiles can see of it, is thickly muscled, and Stiles can see the beginnings of a tattoo that travels down. There’s the tiniest scattering of grey at his temples, and Stiles breathes out, “Oh yes, Sir,” as he drinks in the details on the profile.

#teen wolf #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #fanfic rec #ask #anonymous

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stillcomethenight · 5 years

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Therapist: And what do we say when we like someone?

Me: "There are wind chimes where my ding dong should be :DD"

Therapist: No

#mine #the good place #the good place s2 #derek #honestly wtf

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yumapii · 5 years

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[Fire Art March] Kuma Rintarou [2 / 2]

Parts 1 / 2

Issei:

Geh, you’re right. Geez when did that guy disappear… Well anyway, we can just contact his phone and…

Wait. Rintarou-san confiscated his phone because he was working too much!

Rintarou:

Now that it’s come to this, we just have to find him ourselves!

Issei:

sigh I guess we have no choice…

// Like that, the two of us scour the spacious park grounds from east to west, north to south, we searched all around the park. //

Rintarou:

Not being able to find him after this much searching, he sure has some talent for being a lost child, wouldn’t you say? If there were a Lost Child Olympics, he would definitely win!

Issei:

Erm, now’s not the time to--

*ding, dong, deng, dong*

// Went the chime for park-wide announcements. //

Announcer:

We apologise for calling upon you in this manner.

Kuma Rintarou-sama, Torasawa Issei-sama, your guardian is waiting for you. Please make your way to the lost child centre.

Rintarou & Issei:

Huh?

Jin:

You’ve finally arrived.

Issei:

Don’t “you’ve finally arrived” me! What was with that call, you were the one that got lost right?!

Jin:

Wrong.

You two got lost so I simply called for you.

Issei:

This guy!

// Issei and Jin start their friendly dispute. I have seen this scenery so many times since way back. //

Rintarou:

( They really never change~

Hm? That thing over there… Oh no, A Godly Idea has struck! )

// I buy 3 of “that”, attaching one to my waist. Then I tackle the other two from the back… //

Rintarou:

Issei, Jin! This is a present from moi! Accept it~ ~ ~ ! ☆

Issei:

This is…

Jin:

A balloon?

Rintarou:

If you attach this to your waist, you MSN ☆ (don’t have/ to worry/ about being lost)

(maigo no/ shinpai/ nothing)

// Faster than the other two can reply, I attach the balloons to their waists. //

Rintarou:

Alrighty!

// Before me, I see 3 balloons. The differently coloured balloons sway gently in the wind. //

Rintarou:

( The past was also really fun but… )

// Whether it’s 3 grown men walking around Melshi World. Whether it’s getting summoned by the announcer as a lost child. Or even putting on matching balloons. //

Rintarou:

And that’s a wrap to the fight! We still have more to ride~! Where should we go next~?

( Someday, when the events of today become a fond memory, it’ll be nice if the 3 of us can laugh like this again. )

#dream!ing #translation #card story #kuma rintarou #sr #torasawa issei #ryugasaki jin

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dreadhaus-literature · 5 years

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{Story} “IT’S ME.“

ITSMEITSMEITSMEMONICAITSMEITSMEITSME.

“But why hasn’t he called?”

Monica shifted her phone to her shoulder, pinning it to her ear to better hear the response of her coworker as she padded into her kitchen in search of something sweet to eat and treat herself with. It had been a long day at Fazbear Entertainment, as most days often were, but having a coworker she was close to helped immensely.

“I don’t know why he wouldn’t, but I called,” came the quiet response, but there was an underlying rumble of jealousy that Monica had come to expect from Tod. “That...should count.”

“It does,” Monica replied with an easy, good-natured laugh. She was used to Tod Lakhani’s somewhat hostile treatment of other men in her life; he was protective, overly so, and incredibly sweet...if not a touch on the possessive side considering they were just friends. Monica would date him instead of Zacharie if she thought she could survive the smoldering intensity that lay behind Tod’s two-toned eyes. “It counts so much.”

That seemed to appease Tod, because when he spoke again, his deep voice wasn’t full of biting teeth. “He said he’d call tonight?”

“Yes! Well,” Monica stopped to give it a second thought, green eyes sightlessly perusing the contents of her fridge as she concentrated. “Not exactly, but things have been going really well, and--”

“You don’t have to explain.” Tod interjected gently. “Even if you didn’t have a standing phone date, it’s common courtesy to keep in touch. If it were me, I’d call you every day.”

“Tod,” Monica’s laughter returned. “You do call me every day.”

Tod didn’t even flinch. “Damn right I do.”

The night air outside Monica’s home was balmy, a hint of sunlight still trapped in the invisible gusts as they whispered and wound their way through leaves and branches. A storm had come through the night before and the remnants of the wind rushed along the side of her house and as it went it disturbed the thin, blond and white strands of hair of the “man” hidden in plain sight right outside her window.

Two-toned eyes, one sky blue, the other the color of arterial spray, were riveted to Monica’s movements, following her as she walked around her kitchen in her pajamas. A slight whirring sound could be heard as the eyes moved, hinting to the intricate wiring hidden beneath both artificial and stolen skin. The “man” had no use for breathing and thus made no other sounds as he watched the object of his undying affections talk on the phone. There was nothing that could distract or disturb him from his task, his objective solely to catalog every moment of her that he possibly could, filling the kilobytes of storage inside his head that already had countless hours of her stored, locked lovingly against the still, stolen heart in his chest. That searing red eye memorized her walk patterns while the mesmerizing blue eye drank in every glimpse of her satin soft skin. Slowly, he raised his hand, sagging flesh pressing flat against the window as if he could breach the distance and feel for himself; the nerves in the flesh didn’t work but the cold metal beneath, did. He knew she’d be warm to the touch in ways he could never be, but...well, he hoped what he’d done would make that better. He’d tried.

For her, Ennard really, really tried.

Ding dong.

Monica turned, brow furrowing, as her doorbell echoed down her front hall. Tod was still talking as she pulled her phone from her ear, the time 9:33PM illuminated at the top of the smartphone screen. Who the fuck was at her door at this hour?

“...Tod, hang on, someone’s at my door. Can I call you back?”

“No, but you can take me with you to answer the door.”

Monica bit back a smile. She was normally not one to like being told what to do, but Tod phrased his protective “demands” in a way that was pleasing, not scolding or belittling. He always came from a place of loving concern and she was grateful for it, especially now. There was a slight pinch of unease at the pit of her stomach as the doorbell chimed again but realistically, it was probably just a neighbor with something benign. Monica replaced her phone to her ear, making her way down her dimly lit front hall toward her front door. There was silence on the other side of the wall of wood, but what did she expect, honestly? Someone to be banging a gong, shouting “TOP OF MORNING,” like some sort of Irish lunatic?

“Who is it?”

Monica hesitated for a split second before she stretched up on her tip toes, pressing her face gingerly against the solid wood of her door to peer through the peep hole. As soon as she did, she breathed a side of relief, seeing blond hair and blue eyes illuminated on her front porch.

“It’s Zach,” she told Tod, her pulse slowing. “I guess he decided to come over instead of call?”

“...I guess I won’t eat him today, then.” Tod resigned. “But if he upsets you again, that’s the dinner bell for Ol’ Zach.”

Monica laughed. Tod didn’t.

“I’ll leave you to him, then.” Tod didn’t try to hide his reluctance or disappointment, but there was a small smile in his voice. “Good night, honey.”

“Good night, Tod. See you tomorrow?” Monica couldn’t help the hope in her voice, even as she reached for the deadbolt to unlock her door.

“Wouldn’t miss you for the world.”

The line going dead was heard even as Monica was pulling the phone away from her ear, lifting her head to give Zacharie a smile. “Hey, it’s a little late to show up without calling but--”

Monica cut herself off as Zacharie lifted his head, her blood turning to ice in her veins as her phone clattered to the floor in shock. He was smiling at her, but it was the most unnatural smile she’d ever seen in her life. He looked...thrilled to see her, the smile stretching his lips so wide she was worried they might split at the seams--seam being the literal use of the word, since it seemed his face was sewn together down the middle. Zacharie looked...taller, at least two feet taller than she remembered and as he ducked into her doorway, she nearly fell backward to get out of his way. His joints creaked, and if she focused passed the terrified pounding of her heart in her ears, she could hear a slight whirring, mechanical sound every time he moved. His steps were heavy, thudding against the wood of her floor and as he came closer, the light from her entryway cast him in horrible relief. His blond hair was only half it’s usual tawny sunshine; the left side of his head was a wispy silver, as if the pigment had died and withered away...and speaking of death...that half of his face was much paler than the right side, the pasty white flesh drawing her attention up to a red eye--not blue. It gleamed at her, raked over her like a laser and seared her as it did so, as if she could feel each pass intensely.

No...No, there was no fucking way--

“Mon-ica,” ‘Zacharie’s’ voice was not his voice, not even close. This voice sounded deeper, clearer, like a scalpel’s edge against metal right at the center of an echo chamber. It reverberated off her ribcage, wrapped itself around her heart like livewires to cinch tight and steal her breath right from her lungs. She’d only ever heard her name sound so broken and mechanical over artificial intelligence, as if she were asking Google to pronounce her name aloud and she had a horrible, horrible feeling she knew what she was dealing with.

“S-Stay back!” Monica gestured with her hands out in front of her, backing further into her front hall to put distance between herself and this strange creature wearing Zacharie’s face.

‘Zacharie’ tilted his head at her, the smile sliding off his face but he didn’t listen, taking a few thundering steps after her. “What...What’s wrong?”

“L-Look I don’t know who the fuck y-you are but--”

‘Zacharie’ swept out his arms, that whirring sound mixing with the pull of skin over something other than bone and Monica was drawn to his hands, long fingers ending in sharp, unnatural points that appeared almost sharp. His gesture was meant to be a mimicry of one she’d seen a million times, a motion of obvious ‘take a look’ but it was off-kilter, incorrect, as if he wasn’t human enough to pull it off.

“It’s me,” ‘Zacharie’ insisted, his arms still splayed wide. “Monica...it’s me.”

The second time he said her name was much smoother than the first, and all the more unnerving for it. It sounded as if he was learning.

“Y-You...” Monica’s voice died, failed her as the machine wearing Zacharie’s skin drew closer and she could see the porcelain mask lying beneath the skin of it’s “face”. The baby blue eye she’d though was Zacharie’s wasn’t his at all. It belonged to a ghost, a silly office urban legend, a joke told by coworker’s to scare new hires.

Ennard. The skin-stealing, serial-killing rogue animatronic of Fazbear Entertainment lore.

Except Ennard wasn’t real. Monica had been a loyal Fazbear employee for years now, and she knew all the animatronics and she knew them well. After all, she was responsible for writing their cutesy backstories, and composing the lyrics to all the songs performed on Freddy Fazbear’s stage every night. She knew Circus Baby’s favorite flavor of ice cream was strawberry, that Freddy liked the color red, and that Chica’s favorite kind of pizza was any kind of pizza--why? Because she’d written it. Any new animatronics commissioned, she was brought in on the ground floor to help design them from their conception, to help a seamless integration with the rest of the Fazbear Family. Ennard wasn’t real, couldn’t be real, because she’d never heard of him outside of jokes and whispered rumors of him “haunting the vents” at night. Sure, there were the occasional office pranks where someone would fix a faulty animatronic overnight and “blame” Ennard by saying he did it but that was just a story. Ennard wasn’t real.

But...everything she’d heard about Ennard seemed to be staring her in the face. He had one good working eye, blue, and one factory-issued red retinal scanner (because he was discontinued and thus never given a full set of eyes) Ennard wore a porcelain mask over the wiring of his face, complete with a clown nose and while she didn’t see the clown nose she could definitely see the porcelain mask under the sagging skin stretched over his “face”. Ennard was immense in size, eight feet tall, as he was meant to be one of the “fatherly” figures of the Fazbear Family and had to stand comparable to what a child might imagine the father of the animatronics would look like. He was never given anything other than his facial mask so his massive body was a collection of wires and metal parts; rumors swirled that he changed them out at night in the factories, constantly working on and improving himself--because the scary resolution to all the stories was that he would one day rise up and kill the head of Fazbear Entertainment, put on his skin, and no one would ever know. Monica could recall all the times she’d laughed at the stories, enjoyed making some up herself just to watch her interns all jump every time an air vent made the slightest sound, but it wasn’t supposed to be real.

Ennard wasn’t supposed to be real!

“Do you...like it?” Ennard brought his long arms in, the mechanical whirring blending with the pull of cloth as his long fingers patted his stolen face. “I made it just for you.”

Oh god, Monica’s brain was processing information too fast for her to keep up with and her stomach roiled at the knowledge that her crush had his skin literally peeled off his body by the rogue animatronic Ennard.

“I thought you’d like me better this way.” Ennard lowered his hands from his face to adjust his bow-tie. His wiring might be covered beneath the cloth and stolen skin but he wasn’t going to lose everything that made him who he was. “If I looked like him. Like...Zacharie.”

Monica put shaking fingers over her mouth, shaking her head side to side in denial, but Ennard wasn’t very good at reading human emotion--at least, not yet.

“No?” His frown sagged almost comically, the skin around his mask drooping a little too low to be natural. “Is it the stitching?” Ennard’s fingers came up to his face as he turned to examine himself in her hallway mirror, eyes on the clean line holding two halves of the stolen face together. “I can make it better.” He nodded, pulling and pushing at the mask over his natural face. “I will make it better for you.”

“E-Ennard?” Monica’s voice was hoarse with emotion and it caught his attention immediately.

The whirring was audible in the silence as Ennard turned to her, his two-toned gaze nailing her to the floor. His body was stone still and it got so quiet she could hear herself near gasping around the adrenaline coursing through her system. For a few more seconds he said nothing, his gaze committing this moment to literal stored memory before he uttered, “Again,” in such hushed reverence Monica thought she misheard him.

“W-What?”

“Again.” This time it came out like a bullet, Ennard’s massive form closing the distance between them with such a powerful gait one of Monica’s decorative figurines rattled off a hallway table, clattering to the floor. Ennard’s fingers were cold, the skin only a slight barrier to the icy metal beneath as he cupped her face, his red eye bright enough to cast illumination on her face; she realized with a terrified shudder that he was recording this, their first meeting. “Say my name...again.”

Too terrified to deny him, Monica desperately swallowed until she got her voice back. “...E-Ennard...”

Ennard’s blue eye drifted closed, ecstasy clear on his stolen features, but that red eye remained open, recording so as not to miss a moment of this joyous, momentous occasion. With an unnatural, guttural sound, Ennard’s arms slid around her petite frame and he hunched over her, hugging her close, threatening to crush her as he had no inkling how to treat a fragile human body.

“We’re going to be so happy,” he enunciated his words, punctuating them as if he could speak them into reality--and for him, they already were. This was the happiest day of his life. “I knew you were the one. We all know how special you are.”

Monica didn’t need to know he was talking about the other animatronics, confirming another office rumor--that they were all sentient and very much aware of what was happening around them. It was an unspoken rule one treated the animatronics with respect and that rumor was 98% of the reason why.

Swallowing thickly, Monica couldn’t help noticing the sickly sweet scent of cologne against metal and if she...ignored she was hugging the leftover skin of the beginnings of her crush, it had an odd appeal to it. She turned slightly as she felt Ennard nuzzling his cheek against hers, as if trying to meld their skin together, to get closer, and considering Ennard had a penchant for enjoying being under someone’s skin...she could only imagine how close to her he really wanted to be.

“Zacharie was a mistake. A flaw in the system.” Ennard spoke of reality the way one might expect him to; he was an animatronic, a computer-built program who ran on simulations and based his reality on what was allowed inside his particular simulation. “I corrected the flaw. Now there’s nothing between us.”

“I-I don’t...u-understand.”

“You will.” Ennard promised, unaware of how that made Monica’s pulse spike in alarm. “Once I get you home, you’ll understand.”

“H-Home?” Monica tried to draw back but Ennard’s grip was, unsurprisingly, like iron. He was not allowing space between them, not anymore.

“Yes. Home, sweetheart.” Ennard tried out his first term of endearment and found he liked the way Monica’s skin warmed further when he used it. “We’re a Family now, and what’s a Family without their mother at home with us where she belongs?”

- - -

A/N: Hehe okay so author’s notes are tacky and I hate doing them BUT! I did want to add a few things here because this...was a doozy to try and write “quickly” and have it still make sense. I’m still trying to get back to writing and with that comes the fear I’m not describing things well or coherently because getting your thoughts back in that mindset takes practice, kind of like reeling them in so to speak. So if this is confusing I’m sorry!!

I just--oh right okay so first things, the “ITSMEITSME” up there, the intro line to the fic? It’s clickable, and shows the version of Ennard in his skin suit that I used as inspo, here.

I also just made up some rando to be your “crush” in here, love, since Ennard...was gonna take his skin, lmao, I didn’t wanna use anyone actually from the Haus.

Tod was a little cameo, so. 😋 That was just a little treat for you~

But basically what I tried to lay out here was an AU where you work for Fazbear Entertainment and Ennard has learned all about you from watching you in the vents, and from the other animatronics who all of course refer to you as their Mother as you’re the one who really created them. That makes him the Father to your Mother, and his infatuation with you reaches the point that he decides to kill your crush, take his skin, and win you over that way. Flawless plan is flawless, right? 10/10 in Ennard’s mind.

So I hope that wasn’t too confusing! I wanted to build suspense and mystery without revealing everything until the very end so I hope it wasn’t like ??? the whole time, lmao. I just wanted to write something that features a little bit of creepy, a lot of obsession, and I know how much you love Ennard’s “skin suit” from Sister Location so I thought, perfect combo!

Thanks for letting the weirdos love yoooooou 😘 i’m including myself in that bunch, too, because Senpai is perfect and i am a lucky ducky. 💛

#{story} : it's me #{character} : ennard #{theme} : for monica

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osmw1 · 5 years

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Head Over Heels from the Scarf I Lent Her Chapter 18 — Porridge, and What is to Come

what would you like to read next? suggest titles for me to translate!

Satsuki must have heard what happened. She sat on a chair at Tooru’s bedside and watched over him with concern.

“Are you alright?” “Yeah. I felt much better after sleeping the whole afternoon. Where’s Jun and Nishino?” “They said they will bring you your belongings. I’m sure they will soon be here.” “I see…”

Tooru was in quite a lot of pain when he was carried to the infirmary, but he slept off the worst of it. He wasn’t feeling perfect, but he could probably walk home. Satsuki arrived not long ago. She had been crying over what his situation, but Tooru couldn’t really do much. He wasn’t used to getting in fights and so he didn’t know how to fight back.

The wind, warmed up by the orange evening sun, flowed in from the window. Though the air conditioner was on in the room, the window had been left open which made him sweat in his sleep. Satsuki looked as warm. Her forehead looked a little damp and her hair clung to her neck. It proved to be a little too stimulating and Tooru quickly averted his eyes.

Voices echoed from the courtyard. Both the soccer and track and field teams were out practicing; the latter of which seems to be preparing for a competition. Good luck, everybody.

“The track and field club are really giving it their best.” “Yeah. I hope they win at their event.” “… about your injuries…” “… yeah. You can probably guess what happened, right?”

It’s my sister, right? she murmured with pain in her voice. Then, she took out her handkerchief from her school bag and dabbed the sweat on Tooru’s brow. He didn’t expect her face to be so close to his.

“I will definitely be speaking to her after this.” “If you do that, Satsuki, she’ll—” “I’ll be fine. I’m used to it.”

Her words were followed by a bitter smile. It’s not about whether she’s used to it or not. She’s a girl and one who’s younger than him too. Tooru couldn’t place that burden on her. But then Tooru didn’t feel right to tell her what and what not to do. He felt like he shouldn’t be intruding on her family’s matters.

“You have helped me out twice already. I can’t be slacking off either.” “But…” “Ding dong! Delivery for Tooru!”

Akane burst into the nurse’s room with her usual energy. Jun, with a smile on his face too, was right beside her. Then, as they walked up to Satsuki and Tooru, Akane took out her notepad.

“So, where did they get you?” “My face first, then my torso. I bet she was just jealous of my pretty looks.”

He cracked a joke to clear that solemn feeling that was in the room. Tooru was glad he got everybody laughing too. After she finished with her notes, Akane turned over to Satsuki.

“Look at him getting all cocky just because he’s a little good looking.” “Oh, so you think I’m good looking?” “The key word was “a little”, my dude.” “That’s right. Very, very little.”

Tooru groaned as Jun and Akane dig at him. The two of them really get along well.

“Don’t you groan at us!” “Wow, how rude! Maybe I’ll toss your stuff out instead of handing it to you.” “I’ll kill you.”

Oh, scary! the two of them exclaimed together in sync. Just as Tooru sighed again at their little schtick, Satsuki chimed in.

“Shall we have dinner together tonight?”

“Ahh… piping hot porridge and ice cold AC—what a combo.” “So warm! So cool!” “Are you hot or are you cold? Make up your mind already, Akane.” “There’s still a lot more, so have as much as you’d like.”

Satsuki placed a plate full of ingredients beside the portable gas stove. On top of the burner is a pot of porridge with lots of cabbage, pork, and a variety of ingredients mixed inside. The broth was made from kelp and bonito flakes, lending to a light yet hearty base for the porridge. Nothing healed Tooru’s wounds quite like a delicious meal. And the other two, trying Satsuki’s cooking for the first time, couldn’t stop eating either.

“It’s so good. So much better than what I make at home.” “Not enough practice, Nishino?” “Hey, don’t pick on Akane.” “Yeah, alright.”

Jun chided as he was stuffing his face with porridge. The kelp, the bonito flakes, the hint of soy sauce, and the sweetness of the various ingredients came together in a delicious harmony of flavors. After seeing how the three of them are devouring the food, Satsuki knelt by the pot and scooped a portion for herself. Then, the gently blew on her spoon before taking a bite.

“… mm, not bad.” “You couldn’t tell by how we’re demolishing own bowls?” “Yeah! It’s so good! You should be confident in your cooking!”

Satsuki’s face was beaming after hearing that. And of course, her smile had only made other three fall harder for her.

“I’ve also bought some jello that’s not too sweet for you. Think of it as medicine for your wounds.” “Nah, I’m fine.” “No, you must!”

After seeing their exchange, Akane and Jun gave them a thumbs-up. What’s that supposed to mean? Tooru asks. But the two of them calmly replied, Nothing at all. Tooru was just thinking they’re acting weird then suddenly, Satsuki squishes his cheeks with both her hands.

“Jeez, pay attention to me today!”

Tooru stiffened up as soon as Satsuki said that. The other two did so too. There was no hidden—well, yes, there was a little bit of hidden meaning to that. Satsuki then looked around at all of their faces and blushed bright red after realizing what she had just said.

“S-Sorry! I got a little excited…!” “Don’t worry. Get as excited as you want…” “Ooh, how naughty, Satsuki…”

The two of them were muttering to themselves as Tooru turned redder than Satsuki. Heck, both Tooru and Satsuki were tomatoes by now. “Pay attention to me” is a confession, right? This isn’t her first time saying something like this, but never have they been more embarrassed. That line made Tooru aware that Satsuki, too, is a girl. But now he couldn’t bear to look at her in the face.

The two of them sat there silently while Jun and Akane grinned from ear to ear. Then, Akane makes a heart with her hands.

“Oh, just ask each other out already, you two.” “Ask…” “Each other out…”

Tooru and Satsuki couldn’t have been blushing any harder after hearing that.

It’s not that Tooru hasn’t entertained the idea of dating a girl like Satsuki. But no matter how you look at it, this was too sudden. There’s no romance to that. Plus, he doesn’t know how Satsuki thinks about him. He couldn’t just ask her out so casually.

Not to mention, there’s the fact that Amane exists. He learned earlier today that she’s incredibly jealous of her younger sister. There was no way that now is a good time to ask Satsuki out. Still, Satsuki’s line was all too effective. If asked whether he wants to be her boyfriend, the current Tooru would have to say no.

“You keep talking, I’ll finish the rest of the food.” “Ahh!” “Anything but that!”

Tooru sighed at how in sync Jun and Amane were. They’ve been too in sync lately. They’re the ones who should be going out with each other, he thought. After using the porridge to deflect them, Tooru stretched his legs out and looked up at Satsuki, still bright red. Looking at her right now was still too embarrassing for him, so he looked away instead. Satsuki, though, seemed to be taking it well as she helped herself to more food.

“Look at Satsuki. You two should just shut up and eat like her or else I’m going to eat it all.” “Okay…”

Akane pouted as she went for more porridge. Jun, too, followed suit and had Akane serve him. Tooru wondered if the two of them were just flaunting as he looked up at Satsuki, no longer blushing.

After Akane and Jun went home, Tooru hit the books as Satsuki cleaned up. None of them touched the topic of Amane. Well, rather, they were both trying to find the right time to bring it up. It was a touchy subject between the two of them.

It shouldn’t be difficult to talk about Amane though. Satsuki gets bullied by her sister and as of today, Tooru gets bullied by her too. But what should they talk about? Surely, they both must have lots to say about her. Satsuki finished tidying up and let her hair down. Her long, flowing hair is something he’s now used to seeing.

Satsuki let out a sigh before naturally sitting down next to Tooru. She looked down at this notebook and was surprised.

“Wow, your notes are so easy to understand.” “Really? It’s just how I normally take ‘em.” “Is that right? I was thinking that you might have someone tutoring you.” “I’m not in any clubs or anything since I have work after school, so I don’t know really have anyone who’s older and close to me. This is just how I do it.”

Everybody would be happy from being complimented for their notetaking. Tooru let out a slight chuckle and Satsuki giggled too. Her smile was as beautiful as ever and leagues better than her crying or angry face. Then, they made eye contact. With that, Satsuki had an opening.

“Did something happen today?”

There it is. Tooru knew this unavoidable topic was coming. Tooru gave her the gist of what happened and why Amane never gets in trouble with the teachers. Satsuki went pale listening to the first half but then calmed down afterwards. She placed her hands on her lap and gravely looked at Tooru.

“Then in other words, my sister had your former friends hurt you.” “Yeah, I guess so. We haven’t been speaking for a while, so it wasn’t a huge surprise.”

Tooru stared off into the distance. He had invited them over to hang out like this in the past. The good memories hurt, but he wasn’t about to cry. After all, Satsuki cried only once because of Amane. Satsuki seemed to be in the middle of thought, but then she suddenly rested her head onto Tooru’s shoulder. She smelled as nice as she normally does, but with a slight tinge of sweat today, though nothing offensive.

“Won’t you rely on me?” “Aren’t I already? I get you to clean my room and make my lunches already. That’s not nothing, y’know?”

Then, she puffed her cheeks and pouted. It wasn’t until recently that she started showing this innocent side of her. And since he’s only seen her smiling before, this side of her caught him by surprise. Recently, he’s learned that sometimes, Satsuki is a little childish too. Perhaps because she never grew up with any friends, she doesn’t always know how to deal with people. Once she relaxes a little more around Akane and Jun, she’ll likely show them her childish side too. And that’s just fine for Tooru. He used to strive for her smile, but before he knew it, there was much more to Satsuki. Perhaps she’s letting her guard down around him, but it’s also building trust between them.

“But…” “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna screw up a second time. I’ll be extra careful from now on. Okay?” “Okay…”

Tooru immediately drew his hand back as soon as he realized he was subconsciously reaching out to caress the anxious Satsuki on the head.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t…” “… no, don’t be. I like it when you do that, so please keep ?”

She says as she sticks her head over for him to pat. She’s just like a cat.

“I’ll run when I need to.” “Okay. So…” “I’ll take care of myself. I promise.”

His words came from the bottom of his heart and he finally got through to Satsuki with them. She closes her eyes and gently breathes in and out. She didn’t show it, but he felt she was a little nervous. Tooru kept patting Satsuki as he thought about what is to come.

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shouganaitrans · 6 years

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Kiki Delivers The Window to the Woods

Chapter 5 of Volume 2, Kiki and New Magic, by Kadono Eiko.

“Here, a souvenir.”

Kiki held out the package she brought back from her trip home to Tombo.

“A souvenir? Wow.” As soon as Tombo took it, he pulled open the ribbon and looked in excitedly. “Oh hey, is this one of those bells? The ones up in the trees from when you were a kid? It’s so shiny and silver…”

“It was up there for ages so it got pretty dirty, but I polished it up nice.”

Tombo took off the wrapping and rang the bell. “So what were these for again, anyways?”

“My mom tied them to the tops of some of the tallest trees around my village. Y’know how I decided to be a witch when I was ten, right? I started learning to fly right away, but I could see so much from way up in the air, I’d get distracted looking and lose focus. That’s what the bells were for. If my foot hit one, it’d ring and remind me to fly back up high again. I mean, sometimes I wouldn’t hit any bells, I’d just run into someone’s roof and scare them, or get all scraped up and go home in tears… And then sometimes I’d mess around and ring them on purpose just for fun.” Kiki looked up at Tombo a little shyly, eyes glittering. “Say, Tombo, you seem kinda different. Did you get taller?”

“Hm, dunno… I don’t think so. You’re the one who seems different, come to think of it. Like a mature lady,” Tombo said, smiling gently.

“Huh? R-really?” Kiki raised a hand to her chest as her heart skipped a beat, then kicked at the ground to try and hide it.

Tombo rang the bell once more. “Putting bells up, what a good idea.”

“It’s an old tradition, apparently.”

“I’d love to try it. Y’know, tie bells on the trees all over town and make it a performance when I fly, that sort of thing. Ring, ring, ding, dong, chime chime chiiiime, like that. Fun, right? But of course the problem is I can’t fly, that’s always the problem. Lucky you…” Tombo sighed, pouting jealously at Kiki.

“I feel like I should be apologizing for flying…” Kiki said with a shrug.

“Did Tombo like the bell?” Jiji asked as soon as Kiki got home.

“Yup, he sure did. Still, it was kinda…” Kiki said, flopping down in a chair. “I really don’t get boys…” she muttered to herself. “I wish he’d said a bit more about how I was a mature lady… Whatever.”

“Who’s a mature lady now?” Jiji said, looking up.

“No one,” Kiki said, waving a hand.

“Kiki, are you there?” Osono said, opening the door and peeking in. “There’s a letter for you, here.”

“I wonder if it’s Kokiri…” Jiji said.

Kiki took the letter and tore it open.

“I’ve heard rumors that you fly like the wind. I’m a bit far away, but there’s something I’d like you to deliver for me. My cabin is on Yamamata Mountain, and I’ll have a kite flying so that you can find it. Thank you, Mizuna.”

“Hmm, Yamamata Mountain… Where’s that?” Kiki mumbled under her breath as she studied the map of Koriko City pinned to the wall.

Jiji climbed up on her shoulder to look. “The mountains should be on the opposite side from the sea, right?”

“Right, yeah… Oh! Here we go, right on the edge in the corner… C’mon, Jiji, let’s go!”

“…we don’t have to go right now, do we?”

“Of course we do! This is more fun than just sitting around, and Kiki here can’t let everyone who’s relying on her down, you know~”

“Yeah, but… What about lunch?”

“When we get back.”

“Well, aren’t you important all of a sudden. So cruel, trying to starve me…”

“I’ve got three candies here in my pocket, and I’ll give you two. Alright?” Kiki said, giving her pocket a pat before picking up her broom and Jiji.

“You’re really going all out, what’s up?”

“Nothing’s up! Isn’t this normal?”

“I wonder…” Jiji said, looking up at Kiki.

Kiki opened the glass door to the bakery and looked in. The words “Osono, I’m heading out!” had barely left her mouth before she was up in the air.

“What, already?” Osono called after her in amazement.

“I’m with her, it wouldn’t kill you to slow down a little. You hadn’t even finished talking,” Jiji said with a hmph.

Spring was in full bloom in Koriko, and every once in a while lovely scents would drift past.

“Ah, it smells like apple blossoms! Oh, and this one’s apricot!” Kiki stretched her arms out to one side, then the other as she flew, as through trying to catch the smells. A lively tune flowed from the radio hanging on her broom’s handle. The town, bathed in the brilliant sunlight, gleamed like it was brand new.

Eventually, the houses grew fewer, the green of fields and forests grew deeper, and the mountains appeared from out of the mist. Kiki flew and flew over them all.

“Oh hey, look! There’s a big butterfly there, see?” Jiji said, pointing over Kiki’s shoulder.

“A butterfly? Ah, right, that must be the kite that Mizuna mentioned!”

Finally, over mountains hidden in their soft green, the yellow kite was clearly visible, fluttering in the wind. Kiki followed the kite’s string with her eyes, landing where the string disappeared into the trees.

There was a house there, with a thick grass roof that looked like a little girl’s bowlcut, white smoke gently drifting from the chimney in the center. Next to the door was a sign reading “Tree Songs for Sale.” Kiki couldn’t help but smile; it was just like Kokiri’s “Cold Medicine for Sale” sign.

“I wonder what tree songs are supposed to be, though…”

The door was open. When Kiki looked up, a young man was standing there in white coveralls and a pale green apron.

“Hello, this is Kiki’s Delivery Service. I received the letter you sent,” Kiki said, hurriedly bowing.

“Thanks for coming. I’m Mizuna,” the man said, looking down just a little. The inside of the cabin was one big room, with the bed and the kitchen all visible from the door. There was a kettle whistling on the stovetop. Across from the door, a window looked out on the lawn, letting light pour into the room.

“Wow, it’s so pretty…!” Kiki exclaimed, looking in. Mizuna smiled and opened the window as wide as it would go. “So, what would you like me to deliver for you?” she asked, looking around. There was wood of all shapes and sizes covering the floor, and the soft smell of trees hung in the air. “Could it be one of those tree songs from the sign out front?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Mizuna said a little shyly, picking up a piece of wood about the size of his arm from next to him and holding it out to Kiki. “See the mouth here?”

Sure enough, there was a round hole in one of the knots.

“The tree sings from here?” Kiki asked in surprise, peering into the hole.

“Yes, I give them mouths so that they can sing. I know that trees have to be cut down, of course, but still… I get branches and cut scraps from the woodcutters, so at least I can let them sing like before.”

“Oh, so trees really sing?” Kiki said, leaning forward.

“Oh, you didn’t know? Haven’t you heard them?” Mizuna asked, looking just as surprised as Kiki. “I mean… You’re a witch, aren’t you? I thought witches could understand all kinds of songs and languages, like scarecrows’ conversations and stones’ choruses… I only just learned to understand trees, after living here up in the mountains and listening day after day…”

“Sorry, but I can’t do anything like that, really.” Kiki looked down, suddenly feeling apologetic. “So… When do trees sing?”

“Always. Songs for rain, songs for humid weather, songs for growth, songs for motion. You see those three beech trees lined up out there, all blowing to the left?” Mizuna said, pointing out the window. “They love to harmonize, and they’re singing very cheerfully right now. The weather’s so nice, after all.”

Kiki listened as hard as she could. It did look like they were singing, the way their branches were all swaying together. But all she could hear was the soft sound of the wind and the distant chirping of birds. “I wish I could hear them too…” Kiki murmured absently.

“In that case…” Mizuna said, lifting up the piece of wood he was holding. “This is a chestnut tree,” he said, placing his mouth to the hole he’d called the tree’s mouth and gently blowing.

Tuttutturi, tuuuri, rirriiiiii–

The noise sounded as though it was getting caught somewhere.

“This one is a pagoda tree,” Mizuna said, picking up another piece of wood and blowing into it.

Hehehe heh hehhe–

This time, it sounded like laughter.

“See?” Mizuna said, eyes gleaming with pride.

So these were tree songs? Without meaning to, Kiki tilted her head to the side.

“Is it strange?” Mizuna said nervously as he saw.

“Not at all! It’s just that I’d never heard it before, so… Trees have interesting voices, huh? I kinda assumed they’d have high voices, since they’re so tall and all,” Kiki said, hurrying to laugh it off.

“Oh, sorry, I got all caught up and forgot, but…” Mizuna began, picking up the most odd piece of wood in the cabin from off of a shelf. “I’d like you to deliver this. I really ought to go myself, but I don’t think she’d he happy to see me…” It was a mix of dark and light and greyish wood all combined together into a mysterious shape. “I gathered together all sorts of trees and gave them mouths, so they’d sing a different sort of song together… I call it The Window to the Woods.”

“What a nice name… And the delivery address is…?”

“Do you know Sulck Street?”

Kiki jolted a little.

Everyone knew Sulck Street as somewhere no one would want to be caught walking. Kiki had never been there, but seeing it from the air, it was always sunk gloomily in the shadows of the tall buildings along the shoreline.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, no, of course I’ll deliver it,” Kiki said, accepting the flute from Mizuna.

“It’s for the girl in #3 Seashell Apartments, 39 Sulck Street. Her name is Nashina.”

“Got it.” Kiki turned towards the door. “C’mon, let’s go,” she called to Jiji, letting him jump up onto her shoulder.

“Oh, one last thing…” Mizuna said. “I’d like you to have one of the tree voices, whichever one you want. As a thank-you.”

“Really? Then, how about that one that looks like a little island?”

“That’s red pine.”

“Do you like this one too?” Kiki asked Jiji as she accepted the red pine from Mizuna.

“Mewmeooow,” Jiji replied.

“You can talk to cats?” Mizuna said, eyes wide. “Witches really are amazing… The language of cats must be a lot more complicated than the language of trees.”

“It’s nothing, really…” Kiki said, feeling a little pleased with herself even as she waved it off. “Now then, I’ll be going.” She went outside, sat astride her broom, and took off.

“Oh, and please tell this to Nashina!” Mizuna called, running out after her. “It’s wonderfully lively here, so won’t you come visit? Tell her that!” It sounded as though he put all of his strength behind the words.

Kiki waved to show she understood and flew off, skimming between the mountain slopes.

Sulck Street was just as dark, cramped, and chaotic as Kiki had heard. Dirty water was pooled in the narrow streets, filled with scraps of trash paper. The walls were covered with graffiti. But even so, Seashell Apartments looked the worst by a long shot, with mold growing from damp spots here and there. And to make things worse, it looked like #3 was even half underground. Kiki was shaking a little as she knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” a female voice responded, accompanied by the blare of radio music.

“Excuse me, are you Ms. Nashina?” Kiki said as she opened the door, before stopping dead in her tracks. The only window in the room was a very narrow little one right up against the ceiling, and even though it was the middle of the day, it was as dark inside as though it was evening. It couldn’t be more different from Mizuna’s brightly lit cabin.

A woman who looked a fair bit older than Kiki slipped out in time with the music.

“I have a delivery for you from Mr. Mizuna,” Kiki said, holding the piece of wood out to her.

“Oh? What is it this time?” Nashina said, switching off the radio and turning to Kiki.

“He called it the trees’ songs.”

“Not this again…” Nashina pouted. “He can call them presents, but it’s nothing but pressed wildflowers and maple leaf bookmarks, you know. I mean, what do you think? There are other things a girl’d want, right? He’s a good guy and all, but he’s always kinda, y’know, a little off the mark,” she said, accepting the delivery reluctantly. “There’s always a little something missing.”

“Actually, there was something Mr. Mizuna wanted me to tell you, too. He said ‘It’s wonderfully lively here, so won’t you come visit?’”

“Again, really? I do love him, you know. And I do think sometimes that it’d be nice to be together. I’m always telling him to come here, too. The thing is, I just can’t get used to living like a tree the way he does. Winds and leaves and trees, day in, day out. People might badmouth this place, and you definitely couldn’t ever call it wonderful, but it always feels like something exciting’s about to happen any day now. Sure, it hasn’t happened yet, but… There are new hits on the radio, and if you dress up all nice people turn to look, you know? Trees don’t do anything like that. That’s why me and Mizuna have been apart all this time, both of us asking the other to come see us.” Mizuna shook her head as she laughed, raising the piece of wood to her face. “Hm, this actually smells kinda nice, doesn’t it.”

“Right?” Kiki said, taking a step forwards. “It’s called The Window to the Woods. See all those holes? If you blow into them, it sings.”

“Sings?”

“I’d never heard of trees singing until today either. Apparently Mr. Mizuna can hear them, and sometimes they even harmonize. This one’s made of all different branches and cut scraps.” For some reason, Kiki found herself wanting to lend Mizuna a hand. But she couldn’t help but be a little worried that Nashina wouldn’t like that sort of fuuu fuuu– song. “Don’t you think it’s unusual? A tree’s song?” she said, taking another step forward.

“So this is ‘The Window to the Woods?’” Nashina said, looking closely at the piece of wood in her hands. “A little ironic, since the window here’s so small. You blow into these holes, right?”

“Yeah, you should give it a try! I’d like to hear too…”

Nashina blew softly into one of the holes.

Tototoruruuu– Totoruru–

“Huh, interesting!” Nashina laughed, blowing into the next hole.

Lilulila lilulila lilulila–

The two sounds overlapped, echoing like voices. Nashina’s eyes widened, brightening, as she blew into another hole.

Ranlariri– Ranlariri–

The sounds kept combining and echoing, filling the room.

It felt as though a big, bright window had opened inside the dark, half-underground room, letting a gentle breeze in.

So these were the trees’ songs.

Was this how trees sang?

It was so different from the ones Kiki heard on the mountain…

The mysterious air had surrounded her completely.

Nashina, too, was absorbed in playing, eyes growing misty.

Finally she stopped, standing absolutely still. “It felt like someone pressing their cheek to mine,” she murmured. “…I’d completely forgotten what that felt like.” When Nashina looked up, some of the sharp light was gone from her eyes, replaced by a faint green, like the reflection of a forest. “Maybe I’ll go see him, just this once.”

“Do you know the way?” Kiki asked hurriedly. “Do you need me to tell you?”

“Yamamata Mountain, right? I know,” Nashina said with a smile. “I can’t fly like you, so I’ll pack a backpack and hike, slow and steady.”

When Kiki got home, she tried blowing into the red pine she’d gotten from Mizuna.

Tete tetetette

Kiki couldn’t help but laugh.

It was such a funny sound.

She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

Anyone would laugh if they heard me play this, she thought.

Why is it only The Window to the Woods that sounded so beautiful… There must be something special inside of that wood.

Something sent from one special person to another special person, some kind of special feeling… Maybe that was it.

#＃魔女の宅急便 #kiki's delivery service #kadono eiko #translation

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morphofan · 5 years

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Merry Christmas, Jenny Rose

Hello, @pinkluminarystarlight it’s your Venture Bros. Secret Santa here! Well, not secret anymore, obviously. :-D Here’s the fic you asked for! Enjoy! And thank you for the challenge!

The request: “A spoof of "Manimal" w/ Dr. Orpheus as Dr. Chase, Tatiana as Det. Mckenzie, Jefferson Twilight as Ty, Alchemist as Lt. Rivera, Triana as Teresa, it can be a flashback so it doesn't mess w/ continuity.”

A VERY MANIMAL CHRISTMAS

*DING-DONG!*

"Al," Orpheus called from the kitchen, "Can you get the door for me, please, I am presently elbow-deep in hummus!"

"Kinky!" Al called back with a laugh as he jogged down the hall to the front door. He tried briefly and unsuccessfully to look through the peephole, but since it was designed for Byron, it was good foot above his head. He opened the door, and was greeted by two lovely ladies.

"Triana!" he exclaimed, "How are you, lil peanut? I've missed you!" he embraced Orpheus' daughter warmly, and she hugged him back just as hard.

"Doing fine," she replied, "Mom's been training me, I can't wait to show you!"

"Later, dear one," Tatyana said gently, stroking her daughter's black and violet hair, "Let's get inside and get our coats off before you start casting any spells." The raven-haired beauty unbuttoned her coat, and smiled as Al gallantly took it off her shoulders.

"Hi Tatsy," he said quietly, smiling, "Merry Christmas. I'm so pleased you came." He folded her coat over his arm and leaned up as she reached down to kiss his cheek. "Byron's in the kitchen, as usual." The two old friends laughed together as Al closed the door and led them into the living room.

"Hey, look who's here!" Jefferson said brightly as he rose from the couch to greet the newcomers. He hugged Triana, and then Tatyana, then escorted them over the couch. "Can I get you ladies a drink?" he asked, moving to stand beside the punch bowl on the table in the corner.

"Is there anything in that punch I should know about?" Tatyana asked teasingly, "Especially before I let Triana have any?"

"Moooom," Triana groaned, rolling her eyes.

"It's just plain old punch," Jefferson chuckled, filling two cups, "Nothing naughty in it, I promise." He brought the cups over to the couch and handed them to Triana and Tatyana.

"Who wants PITA CHIPS?" Orpheus announced loudly, appear in the doorway with a tray, "Also, organic sun-dried tomato hummus, homemade by yours truly!" He crossed the room and set the tray on the coffee table, before kissing his daughter on the head. He hesitated as Tatyana rose, then relaxed as his ex-wife hugged him.

"Nice to see you, Byron," she said softly, kissing him on the cheek, "Merry Christmas."

"Likewise, my dear," the necromancer replied, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it politely, "Thank you for coming." He glanced around the room, then, and raised a quizzical eyebrow? "Did The Outrider not accompany you? I hope he knows he is welcome, here."

"Oh, he'll be along," Tatyana replied as she sat back down on the couch, "He had some business to attend to, first. Work, work, work."

"OK, I know we all agreed, no gifts," Al began sheepishly, "But I found something for Triana that I just couldn't resist. I hope that's OK." He reached inside his robe and withdrew a small, flat, wrapped package.

"Awww," Triana said, as she took the gift, "Thanks, Al." She held it up and shook it a little. "Movies?" she guessed with a grin.

Al just shrugged mysteriously at her.

She ripped the paper off to find not one, but TWO DVDs. "Oh my gosh, Al!" she exclaimed, "WHERE did you find these?"

"What are they?" Jefferson asked, leaning over her shoulder to read the titles, "Manimal… and Nightman? Never heard of them."

"They're a couple of old TV shows that NEVER got the respect they deserved," Triana said, looking over the back of the box for Manimal. This one was on in 1983, and Nightman was 1998."

"Nightman was a separate show, but they did a crossover with Manimal, and it was awesome," Al explained, "Simon MacCorkindale plays Dr. Jonathan Chase, and he's got these powers that let him turn into an animal. And he's a Hottie McHottersons!"

Everyone chuckled.

"I… vaguely remember Manimal," Orpheus said, "It was on about the same time as Automan, was it not?" He came to sit beside his daughter, as Tatiana sat on her other side.

"Oh yeah, yeah," Jefferson chimed in, "I remember Automan! The computer guy with the awesome car, right?"

"Indeed," Byron confirmed with a nod.

"Thanks so much, Al," Triana said, standing up to hug the monk, "This is amazing." She gave him a big kiss on the cheek.

"My pleasure, kiddo," he said kindly.

Triana tucked her gifts into her handbag, looking forward to watching them later.

"So, Triana," your mother tells me you've been making excellent progress with your training," Orpheus said, "Would you like to give us a demonstration?"

"Sure!" she jumped up and moved to stand in the center of the room. "Watch this," she said, grinning. Focusing her power and concentration, she traced a circle in the air, and a very small, very weak inter-dimensional portal sparkled into existence.

"Whoo!" Jefferson exclaimed, clapping his hands, "Awesome! I wish I could do that."

"Wait, there's more," Triana said with a wink. She focused harder, and the portal began to grow in size, becoming brighter and more solid-looking with each passing moment.

"Uhhh, pumpkin?" Orpheus said nervously, glancing at Tatyanna, "I don't know if portals are a good thing to attempt this early in your training."

"Relax, Dad," Triana replied, "I got this." No sooner had she spoken, when there was a surge of energy from the portal, and she was knocked backwards. She lost her balance and fell, striking her head on the edge of the table on her way to the floor.

"Triana!" everyone exclaimed.

"Owwww," the girl moaned, sitting up and rubbing the back of her aching head as her family and friends crowded around her. Orpheus helped her to her feet and guided her over to the couch. "I'm fine," she said, "Just embarrassed. That never happened before. I wonder if…. Uhhh… Dad? Mom?"

She pointed nervously at the portal, which was now glowing brightly. Movement inside the portal was visible, now, and suddenly the room was filled with wind.

"I'm… not doing that," Triana said uneasily.

The portal seemed to be creating a vacuum, and several napkins shot off the table into the void. Next, the throw pillows were sucked into the maw.

"It's getting stronger," Tatyanna said, "Byron, can you shut it down?"

"I don't know," the necromancer said, "I don't even know how she created it, but we should…."

Whatever they should have done would never be known, because with a great roar of rushing air and a cacophony of alarmed shouts, everyone in the room was suddenly sucked through the portal….

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

"Dr Jonathan Chase... wealthy, young, handsome. A man with the brightest of futures. A man with the darkest of pasts. From Africa's deepest recesses, to the rarefied peaks of Tibet, heir to his father's legacy and the world's darkest mysteries. Jonathan Chase, master of the secrets that divide man from animal, animal from man... Manimal!"

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

Triana glanced around, and found herself in what looked like an office. Her mother was sitting at the desk, inexplicably wearing a very early-80s styled suit, complete with shoulder pads that would make a quarterback jealous. Standing in front of the desk was Al, also dressed in 80s business attire. He seemed to be in the process of scolding Tatyanna.

"…And another thing!" he said, "Your expense account is waaaaaaay out of control, Detective Mackenzie! You're not the only officer in this precinct, you know!"

"Oh, give it a rest, Lieutenant Rivera," Tatyanna moaned, exasperatedly, "I've brought in more criminals in the past month than most of the precinct brings in all year! You're paying for the quality." She looked up and smiled flirtatiously.

Triana was nonplussed, wondering why her mother was flirting with the Out-And-Proud Alchemist. But before she could comment, there was a knock on the office door.

"Go away!" Al yelled.

"Come in!" Tatyanna called, at the same time. She smiled as Al rolled his eyes.

The door opened, and Triana's face brightened as her father and Jefferson entered. But then she hesitated. They, too, were now wearing anachronistic clothing; Her father in a sweater vest and khaki slacks, and Jefferson was in a plaid shirt and jeans!

"Whaaaat's going on?" she stammered, taking a few steps backwards from her friends and family.

"Teresa!" her father suddenly exclaimed, "What are you doing here?" he turned accusingly toward Al, "Rivera! Why is my daughter in a police station?"

"I-I-I," Al stammered.

"Eloquent as ever, Nick," Jefferson chuckled, as he moved toward Triana, "You OK, Teresa?" He laid a hand on her shoulder.

Triana just stood there, with no idea how to respond. Clearly, she and her friends and family had been pulled through the portal into an alternate universe… but why was she the only one who remembered who she really was?

"Oh… you know," she faked, "Just came by to talk to detective Macintosh." She gestured at her mother, who was now cocking a confused eyebrow at her.

"Mackenzie," the older woman corrected, "And I've told you, call me Brooke, sweetheart. Or 'Auntie', if you prefer." She rose from the desk and came to embrace Triana.

"Auntie," Triana mumbled, still deeply confused as her mother… but not her mother… hugged her.

"Teresa came to have lunch with me," Tatyanna explained, "I'm sure Dr. Chase doesn't have a problem with that?"

"Of course not," Orpheus replied, "Why don't we all go out for lunch? We hardly ever have all of us in one place, these days." He turned to Jefferson, "Will that work for you, Ty?"

"You buying?" Jefferson inquired of Al.

"No," Al grumbled.

"Of course he is!" Tatyanna said brightly, collecting her absolutely-enormous handbag from a desk drawer.

"Oh fine," Al conceded, "I'm starving."

* * *

A few minutes later, the group of five was seated at a table at a fancy restaurant. Rivera and Mackenzie seemed to be well-known by the waitstaff, because the party had their food in less than 15 minutes.

As everyone enjoyed their lunches, Triana kept mostly silent, listening to the dialogue between the people she knew and loved. They kept talking about cases, criminals, the latest breakthroughs. Whenever someone asked her a question, she tried to keep her answers as vague as possible, trying to hide the fact that she wasn't who they thought she was.

Teresa? Teresa Chase, as it turned out. Well at least her father was still her father…. From the conversation, she had gleaned that he was now Dr. Jonathan Chase, and he taught at NYU. Jefferson was his best friend, Tyrone Earl. Al was Lieutenant Nick Rivera, and was also her mother's boss. Her mother was detective Brooke Mackenzie.

"I'm telling you, guys," Tatyanna was saying excitedly as she stabbed at her salad, "I am THIS CLOSE to cracking the MOMA forgery and smuggling case! I just need a few more days to really catch those crooks in the act."

"Detective Mackenzie," Al muttered, leaning close to her, "Don't you think you should keep that confidential? Your friends aren't cops, there's no need to involve them."

"Right," she replied, with a wink at Chase and Ty, "What do these guys know about fighting crime?"

Triana cocked an eyebrow as her father and Jefferson suddenly tried to cover up snorts of laughter. She was clearly missing something funny, but for now, she had no idea what it was.

Suddenly from across the restaurant, there was scream. Everyone at the table jumped to their feet, her mother and Al automatically drawing their guns.

"Everybody stay back!"

The source of the demand was a strung-out looking man, and he had a young woman held to him, holding a knife to her throat.

"Let her go," Al ordered, moving toward the man and his hostage.

"Jonathan?" Tatyanna whispered, anxiously.

"I'm on it," he replied softly, stepping backwards, ducking behind a partition.

Curious, Triana followed her father, and stopped short when she saw what looked like some sort of mutation behind the divider. It sort of looked like her dad, but was half… eagle? No, hawk, she realized, as the man she knew as 'Dad' completed his transformation. He was a hawk. Her dad. Was a hawk.

"What the," she began, but then suddenly, she felt her own body began to change.

She dropped to the floor on her hands and knees, seeing and feeling black fur sprout from her pale skin. Her clenched hands reformed into paws, and long, sharp claws emerged from the toes. She could feel her legs elongating, and she whipped her tail (TAIL?) as the bizarre transformation continued.

"Dad!" she tried to cry out, but the scream of a panther came from her throat. She worked her mouth, feeling long, sharp, predator's teeth growing from her gums. Her tongue felt rougher than sandpaper against the roof of her mouth, and suddenly, she could smell every scrap of food in the restaurant.

Triana hunkered down, nauseous from the multitude of smells, and weak from the changes her body had gone through. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window, and realized she had transformed into a majestic black panther.

Before she could really process all this, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the hawk, her father, take flight. She followed, creeping stealthily along the floor.

As she slunk between the tables, a few of the patrons noticed her, and leapt to their feet with screams of alarm.

"Don't be afraid!" she tried to say, but all that came out was a snarl, which didn't help to ease anyone's fears.

Up ahead near the door, her father, in his hawk form, was diving at the face of the man holding the knife. The man shrieked and swung the knife at the attacking raptor, but her father was too quick, and dodged easily.

The hawk latched onto the man's wrist his sharp talons, and the knife dropped to clatter to the floor. The woman he'd taken hostage broke free of his grip, and ran in Jefferson's open arms.

"Easy now, lady, you're safe," he said gently, as he escorted her to a safer part of the restaurant. They merged with the crowd of other alarmed patrons gathered near the kitchen.

"Good work, Ty!" Tatyanna said, still training her gun on the criminal. She and Al moved cautiously toward the man, who was screaming and still trying to dislodge the hawk from his wrist.

Triana saw the man grab the bird around the neck, and she was filled with a protective rage. With a loud, feline scream, she leapt at the man hurting her father, and sank her fangs into his thigh.

"GAAAHHH!" the man bellowed, and released the hawk to pry at the big cat's jaws.

Triana leaped up on her hind legs and tackled the man to the floor, moving to stand over him, baring her teeth and growling. He was whimpering in fear, holding his hands up to protect his face.

"What the hell?" she heard Al shout, "It's a panther! Shoot it!"

"No wait, Nick, DON'T! Tatyanna and Jefferson both cried. But the warning came too late.

Triana heard the gunshot, and felt the bullet enter her side. It hurt worse than anything she had ever felt, and her whole body went cold in an instant. She collapsed atop the man, and he roughly pushed her aside.

But before he could flee, Dr. Chase, in his human form again, was there. He held tight to the criminal, but staring down at Triana in horror.

"Teresa," he breathed, as tears spilled down his cheeks.

Now her mother was there, cradling her head. Jefferson joined them, and took her paw. Al came hesitantly to stand over her, looking in confusion from Tatyanna to Jonathan.

"What… is going on?" he asked uncertainly.

A strange tingle sparkled through Triana, and she felt her body shifting, returning to human form. She saw the horror and realization come over Al's face, and she tried to speak, but her voice was too faint to hear.

"Take him!" her father barked, his voice sound hollow and far away. He handed the thug into Al's hands, and then fell to his knees to frame Triana's face in his hands. "Teresa!" he wept, "Hang on, honey. Hang on."

With a final glance at her circle of loved ones, Triana reached up to touch her father's face… and then everything went dark….

* * * * *

Her head hurt.

"Triana? Sweetheart?" her mother's voice sounded like it was underwater.

She slowly opened her eyes, but the room spun dizzily, and she closed them again. A strong arm at her back helped her sit up, and she was cradled against someone's warm chest.

"Pumpkin?" her father said gently, and a hand cupped her cheek, "Can you hear me?"

"Dad?" she murmured. Something cold was pressed to the back of her head, and next she heard Al's voice.

"C'mon, kiddo," the Alchemist said softly, "Open your eyes. You're scaring us."

The worry in her friend's voice spurred her on, and she opened her eyes. She was in her father's living room, just as it had been earlier. She was on the floor, cradled against her father's chest, with her loved ones standing over her.

"How is she?" a new voice asked worriedly. She followed the source of the sound and saw her stepfather standing over her mother, with his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm OK," Triana said, struggling to sit up straighter. Her father and stepfather each took her by the arm and pulled her to her feet, and helped her make her wobbly way to the couch. "What… what happened?" she asked as she sat down.

"You whacked your head on the table," Jefferson said, bringing her a glass of water, "Knocked yourself cold, and scared the crap out of us!"

"It's all my fault," her stepdad said regretfully, "I tried to teleport into the room at the same time you were demonstrating your new spell, and I guess I caused some sort of magical feedback. It knocked you a good three feet!"

She took the water gratefully, and drank it down, nodding as everything finally began to make sense. Everything from the moment she hit her head to the moment she woke up was some weird dream, triggered by Al's DVD gifts.

"I'm so sorry, Triana," her stepfather said, kneeling next to her, laying a hand on her knee, "I feel absolutely terrible. I should have just come through the front door like a normal person…. Can you forgive me?"

"Sure," Triana said, grinning at him, "Buy me a new car for Christmas, and we'll call it even." Everyone laughed in relief, and she smiled at the people she loved, thankful to be home.

THE END

#The Venture Bros.#Manimal #Venture Bros. Secret Santa 2018 #Dr. Jonathan Chase #Detective Brooke Mackenzie #Dr. Byron Orpheus #The Alchemist #Jefferson Twilight #The Order Of The Triad #Nick Rivera #Tyrone Ty C. Earl

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therealmadblonde · 4 years

Text

October 8

I drew more lines in my head last night and this morning, but before I’d created a satisfactory picture we had a caller.

I barked twice when the door chimes sounded, because it was expected of me. The master went to the door and I followed.

A tall, solidly built man, dark-haired, was on the stoop, and he smiled.

“Hello,” he said, “my name’s Larry Talbot. I’m your new neighbor, and I thought I’d come by and pay my respects.”

“Won’t you come in and have a cup of tea with me?” Jack said. “Thank you.”

Jack led him into the parlor and seated him, excused himself, and went to the kitchen. I stayed in the parlor and watched. Talbot glanced several times at the palm of his hand. Then he studied me.

“Good boy,” he said.

I opened my mouth, let my tongue hang out, and panted a few times. But I did not approach him. There was something about the way he smelled — an underlying suggestion of wildness — that puzzled me.

Jack returned with a tray of tea and biscuits and they chatted for a time, about the neighborhood, the weather, the recent rash of grave robbings, the killings. I watched them — two big men, the air of the predator about each — sipping their tea now and discussing the exotic flowers Talbot cultivated and how they might fare, even indoors, in this climate.

Then came a terrible crash from the attic.

I departed the room immediately, bounding up the stair, swinging around corners. Up another stair…

The wardrobe doors were open. The Thing stood before it.

“Free!” it announced, flexing its limbs, furling and unfurling its dark, scaly wings. “Free!”

“Like hell!” I said, curling back my lips and leaping.

I caught it directly in the midsection, knocking it back into the wardrobe again. I slashed twice, left and right, as it sought to seize me. I dropped down and bit one of its legs. I roared and threw myself on it again, slashing faceward.

It drew back, retreating to the rear of its prison, leaving a heavy scent of musk in the air. I shouldered the doors shut, reared up, and tried to close the latch with my paw. Jack entered just then and did it for me. He held his knife loosely in his right hand.

“You are an exemplary watchdog, Snuff,” he stated. A moment later Larry Talbot came in.

“Problems?” he said. “Anything I can help with?” The blade vanished before Jack turned.

“No, thank you,” he said. “It was less serious than it sounded. Shall we return to our tea?”

They departed.

I followed them down the stairs, Talbot moving as silently as the master. I’d a feeling, somehow, that he was in the Game, and that this incident had persuaded him that we were, too. For as he was leaving he said, “I see some busy days ahead, before this month is out. If you ever need help — of any sort — you can count on me.”

Jack studied him for several long moments, then replied, “Without even knowing my persuasion?”

“I think I know it,” Talbot answered.

“How?”

“Good dog you’ve got there,” Talbot said. “Knows how to close a door.”

Then he was gone. I followed him home, of course, to see whether he really lived where he said he did. When I saw that he did I had even more lines to draw. Interesting ones now, though.

He never turned and looked back, yet I knew that he could tell I was behind him all the way.

Later, I lay in the yard, drawing my lines. It had become a much more complicated enterprise. Footsteps approached along the road, halted.

“Good dog,” croaked an ancient voice. It was the Druid. There followed a plop on the ground nearby, as something he’d tossed over the garden wall landed. “Good dog.”

I rose and inspected it as he passed on along his way. It was a piece of meat. Only the most wretched of alley hounds might not have been wary. The thing reeked of exotic additives.

I picked it up carefully, bore it to a soft spot beneath a tree, dug a hole there, dropped it in, covered it.

“Bravo!” came a sibilant voice from above. “I didn’t think you’d fall for that one.” I glanced up. Quicklime was coiled about a branch overhead.

“How long have you been there?” I asked.

“Since your first visitor came by — the big one. I’d been watching him. Is he in the Game?”

“I don’t know. I think he may be, but it’s hard to tell. He’s a strange one. Doesn’t seem to have a companion.”

“Maybe he’s his own best friend. Speaking of which — “

“Yes?”

“The crazy witch’s companion may be running out of steam about now.”

“What do you mean?”

“‘Ding, dong, dell.’”

“I don’t follow you.”

“Literally. Pussy’s in the well.”

“Who threw her in?”

“MacCab, full of sin.”

“Where is it?”

“By the outhouse, full of shit. Back of Crazy Jill’s place. Keeps it from going dry, I guess.”

“Why tell me? You’re the antisocial one.”

“I’ve played before,” he hissed. “I know it’s too early in the Game to begin eliminating players. One should wait till after the death of the moon. MacCab and Morris are new at it, though.”

I was on my feet and moving.

“Pussyfoot, pussyfoot. Wet, wet, wet,” I heard him chanting as I ran off toward the hill.

I mounted the hill and raced down it toward Crazy Jill’s, the landscape flowing to a blur about me. I pushed my way through a hedge when I reached her place, sought quickly, located the roofed and rock-girt structure, bucket on its rim. I ran to its side, rested my forepaws upon the ledge, and peered down into it. There was a faint splashing sound below.

“Gray!” I called.

A very faint “Here!” came to me.

“Get off to the side! I’m going to drop the bucket!” I called. The splashing grew louder and faster.

I pushed the bucket off the ledge and listened to it wind down, heard it splash. “Get in!” I called.

If you’ve ever tried turning a crank with your paws you know that it is rough work. It was a long, long while before I’d raised the bucket high enough for Graymalk to remove herself to the ledge. She stood there drenched and panting.

“How did you know?” she asked me.

“Quicklime saw it happen, felt the timing was bad, told me.” She shook herself, began licking her fur.

“Jill snatched a collection of Morris and MacCab’s herbs,” she said between licks. “Didn’t go inside their place, though. They’d left them on their porch. Nightwind must have spotted us. Anything new?”

I told her about Bubo’s visit last night, and Talbot’s this morning.

“I’ll go with you,” she said. “Later. When I’m rested and dry. We’ll check out the Count’s crypt.”

She shook herself again, licked again.

“In the meantime,” she went on, “I need a warm place, and some catnappery.”

“I’ll see you later then. I have to check some things around the house.”

“I’ll come by.”

I left her there near the outhouse. As I was making my way through the hedge, she called out, “By the way, thanks.”

“De nada,” I said, and I moved on up the hill.

#10-8-20 #a night in the lonesome October #roger zelazny #full moon Halloween

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