Kannst du mal ein paar Beispiele geben was ihr für Spitznamen für einander habt? (Also Pi, Ardy, Luna und du)
Hier eine Liste der Spitznamen, die uns jetzt auf die Schnelle eingefallen sind. Das werden lange nicht alle sein, aber man bekommt ein Gefühl für die ganzen Variationen, die über die Zeit entstanden sind!
Today, I fucked up by wanting to pet a cute doggy.
My doggy. So yes, I’m biased. Still:
It’s 630AM. I stumble downstairs to get my wife’s lunch together for school (shut up, she’s a teacher). And there’s Buster, his entire body whipsawing back and forth under the force of his tail-wagging joy at the reminder that I exist as an entity. He’s already been on a three-mile run with my wife that morning, but is he the slightest bit tired? Heavens no.
I stump over to the coffee maker. Buster jams himself between me and it, his desire for Pettins an almost palpable form hanging in the air, his big soulful eyes following me like a junkie tracking a hit. I decide (well, it’s decided for me) that the Booboo better have his felt needs addressed, and I lean over to pet him, give him ear-scratchings, etc. You know the drill.
Buster, however, feels that the time it’s taking me to lean down is altogether untenable and decides to meet me halfway up. He launches all seventy-five pounds of lanky half-Chocolate Lab/ half Weimaraner muscle up at me with the speed of a thousand lasers. His weaponized skull, which I swear to Christ must be made of Adamantium or some shit, connects with my face so hard the air around us ignites. There is a massive PA-PLOOM as my eyeballs bounce off the back of the inside of my (surely freakin’ liquified) skull, purple and green shockwaves ricocheting around behind my eyelids.
I get back onto my feet (oh yeah: my lil’ Boo laid me the fuck out) and claw my way up to the kitchen sink, blood geysering everywhere from my destroyed nose. I do what any sane man would do, which is bellow something along the lines of “OH YOU FUCKING DOG” over and over again whilst bleeding into the plumbing.
This of course prompts my wife to come charging out of the bathroom, all naked and soapy from the shower, which in any other situation would be just fine with me. However, I am still shrieking invective into the sink, so I don’t actually see this. What I hear, however, is the squeak and thudity-thud of her being bodily tackled by a thoroughly freaked-out dog who is learning more about the world being a confusing place every day.
Anyhoo. Buster has calmed down now. I mopped the blood off of the floor and gave him his antler to gnaw to pieces as a calming exercise. He’s taking his mid-morning nap now. My wife was able to rinse the blood, soap and dog hair off and still get out the door on time. I’ve been sitting here with a bag of frozen peas across my eyes, hoping the shiners aren’t too bad by the time I have to go to work myself.
This is Buster. He’s my buddy and I love him very much, but omigod fuck him so much right now.
“Linky was supposed to be here quite some time
ago”, Purah mused, finally noticing that her guinea pig had been missing
for a number of days. She had new tests to run on both him and his Sheikah
slate, including more rune tinkering and a modification to the slate’s
teleportation carrying capacity. Soon, two people or one horse and a rider
would easily be able to teleport around Hyrule. Purah hoped that eventually she
could design a modification that would enable the slate’s carrier to teleport
OTHER things here and there, such as guardian remains or perhaps precious
stones. The lab was always in need of funding anyway, and charging Link for her
services now that Ganon was defeated seemed reasonable enough. Goddess knew he
had plenty of money to invest, anyway. Purah decided to propose the idea to him
the next time he came around, whenever that would be. She grunted with
annoyance, stamping one of her small, freshly shined shoes.
Like any other child, she loathed to wait. “Where would
he have run of to?” Purah huffed impatiently. In her head, she imagined
Link intentionally wasting time- scaling the sky-tall mushrooms of northwest
Hyrule, using the stasis rune to send giant boulders clear to the heavens,
chasing after viscous tundra bears as though they were speckled pink ponies…
“I’m sure whatever he’s doing is of utmost
importance”, replied Symin. He plucked a long, white hair off of the tall
bookshelf in front of him. “It’s extremely out of character for Link to
not show, and especially to do so without any word.”
Purah sighed and plopped down heavily on her wooden stool,
painted to resemble a thunderwing butterfly. “I suppose you’re right.
Maybe I should go find him, make sure he’s alright. But, ohhhhhh!” She
grabbed the corners of her stool and leaned back dramatically. “I can’t
leave, looking this way! Symin, would you go fetch him for me?”
“Ill see what I can do”, Symin replied woefully,
not looking forward to yet another trip away from the Lab. The direct sun
always shone too brightly on his fair skin, and he had allergic reactions to
most things he touched. Nonetheless, there was a task at hand which only he
After lacing his shoes up and applying a generous layer of
sun salve to all visible parts of his body, he trudged towards the door,
fidgeting with the handle for a moment. “I’ll check the village first, for
the general direction he headed”, he muttered in Purah’s direction.
“And I’ll send notice if he’s left for… goddess, who knows where?”
Stepping through the threshold and out into the yellow-green
grass of Hateno, Symin shut the Lab’s rickety door behind him. He walked slowly
down the hill, taking note of the deep, spotless blue stretched above him.
Though it was already late as midday, he knew better than to trust the sky to remain
clear. Hateno was notorious for two things: fresh milk, and flip-of-a-switch
Upon reaching the base of the town, Symin stretched his neck
around a bend in an attempt to find a friendly face with whom to speak. There
was a stable hand- and given her general composure, she seemed a bit rude, but
not unapproachable. Nobody else seemed particularly interested in what she was
doing, which was by the look of things, not very much. She leaned against a
small stable in front of the Inn with her arms crossed, chewing a blade of
grass. Symin slicked back his hair and approached her with a kind confidence.
“Good evening, ma'am. A word?” He asked gently, as
though one wrong move would cause her to blow.
“Sure, I got a word for ya. I’m a sir”, the stablehand corrected.
Symin stuttered in surprise. After running through a number
of apologies, he finally stumbled into his original question.
“Have you seen Link around?” Symin pulled at a
stray strand of hair ticking the corner of his mouth. “Sort of short,
blonde mop, stoic expression?”
“Oh, Link! Sure. He’s been locked in his house last
two, three days.” The stablehand huffed a little. “When you see him,
can you ask him to, uh… help me catch a couple more of those restless
crickets? Damn things are too fast for me.” He smiled sheepishly, the
added, “I’m needing a lot of’em.”
A strange expression flickered across Symin’s face before he
regained his composure. “Crickets. Got it. Thanks.”
Symin wondered what Link may be doing in his house,
especially for TWO DAYS. The boy couldn’t even sit still long enough to sleep
at night, let alone spend two days locked in his ramshackle home. No, Symin
concluded, something had to be going on. He walked past the strange cubic model
houses on the hill to a frighteningly rickety bridge. Goddess, how long had
THAT been weathering there? He crossed it carefully, hoping the warped wood
wouldn’t break under his weight. The bridge was suspended 50 feet above a pond,
and Symin was as capable of swimming as a stone.
He reached the end of the bridge with a sigh of relief,
facing Link’s cottage. He had made several home improvements, that much was
obvious. Last Symin had seen of the place, it had been falling apart. He
noticed saplings planted around the yard, along with white flowers cropping out
from the grass. The place had a door now, and the roof had been patched. It
seemed less run down, and more quaint.
Symin’s eye was caught by a small, blue bloom cropping up
near the old stable. He walked towards it curiously and bent down to meet the
“Silent Princess?” He whispered in amazement.
“They aren’t native to this area.” In fact, they were native to very
FEW areas at all. The flowers had grown in number the last hundred years, but
were still not incredibly common. They grew mostly in the fields of Hyrule, or
around Great Fairy fountains. They were both places almost no one had access
to. Except for maybe, a certain Hero…
“I wonder, could Link have dropped seeds here?”
That was when he saw several plooms of dust come out of
Link’s window, followed by deep coughing from inside the house.
Symin rushed towards the door, politely knocking once before
shoving his way in without invitation.
He found Link clinging to a rafter, reaching above himself
to dust the CEILING.
“Sir Link”, Symin started. Link jumped, caught off
guard for once, to Symin’s surprise. “If I may ask, what in Hylia’s name
are you doing?”
Link looked down at him, rubbing his neck embarrassedly.
“Cleaning, actually.” His clothes were completely filthy. Where they
appeared to be dampened with something, dust, dirt, and other strange brownish
substances clung to him. His hands were none the better, and his hair was
pulled back into a messy, sweat-streaked ponytail.
Symin sighed, meeting Purah’s impatience. Of all the things
he could have found Link doing, cleaning was considered quite low on the
priority list. “While I agree with a tidy keep, you’ve left Miss Purah
waiting for you to make an appearance at the lab for quite some time, and her
patience wears thin very quickly these days.”
“Sorry”, Link muttered half-heartedly. “I’ve
been distracted. I’m trying to prepare everything for the Princess’
arrival.” He blushed deeply.
Symin grinned excitedly in response. “Oh! Our Princess
Zelda is coming for a visit? How long will she be staying? I’m sure she would
love to meet with Purah and discuss improvements on the Sheikah
“Well, she’s been spending time getting reacquainted
with the country.” Link paused for a long while, calculating his next
words. “She doesn’t want to return to the castle just yet, as it is in
repair, and she has little interest in living anywhere but Hateno…”
“Ah.” Symin nodded in understanding. He had
anticipated that Link and Zelda would fall back into their roles of princess
and knight eventually. It was their original dynamic, after all. Perhaps
returning to it would provide them both with some sense of familiarity in this
new, strange world. “Her highness would be living here with you”, he said
"Yeah”, Link confessed. He flustered in the way
that only came about from mention of the princess, or shamelessly forward Great
Fairies. “One hundred years ago, it would have been considered completely
improper- never would have happened. To be honest, I’m surprised she suggested
it at all. She can be quite traditional.” He leapt down from the rafter in
one graceful movement.
“Sir Link, do forgive me, but I fear you have an error
in memory. You lived beside the princess in the castle, before Calamity Ganon,
and it was approved by the royal court”, Symin corrected. His voice
softened to a more friendly tone. “It wasn’t so taboo- she was safe near
you. Your services are less necessary now than they were back then, since our
biggest threat has been snuffed out. But even so, I’m sure the Princess is very
capable of handling herself.”
Link laughed, really laughed- the sound was full bellied and
rich as monster cake. “She can hold her own wherever she goes- there is no
question about that.” He rubbed his neck shyly. “But she isn’t moving
here to be protected.”
“Then why would she be…” Symin started, before
noticing Link’s deep, red blush.
Oh, Symin, you
damnable fool! He chastised himself silently. “Oh, goddess… I beg your forgiveness,
Sir Link.” He hung his head in embarrassment. “I was unaware of the status of
your relationship with the Princess. Pardon my assumption.”
“Don’t worry about it”, Link brushed off. “I hardly believe
the reality of it myself. Which is probably part of the reason I’m doing all of
this, in preparation.” He motioned around his little cottage. “Helps me get a
better grip on things.”
Symin smiled, relieved to find Link hadn’t taken offense to
his obliviousness. “The world has changed, my friend. People see each other as
equals, and the old laws that established one’s rank and class have been long
“It isn’t only her
title, or her lineage. I couldn’t have allowed myself to hope for something
like this… before.” Link mindlessly readjusted his ponytail as he spoke. “Not
with her.” He pulled the leather chord around his hair, then rested his hands
on his hips in a defiant sort of way. “But, enough with the squishy talk. Purah
needs me for something?”
Symin nodded ruefully. “Yes, and immediately. If I return to
her empty handed, she’ll have my head as kindle for the blue flame outside the
lab. And I’m only partially kidding.”
“Purah is a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about it. I
promise to come back with you. But listen, before we leave…” Link’s face grew
gravely serious. “…I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Of course.” Symin braced himself, wondering what sort of treacherous
task Link would propose. His stomach knotted as he ran through a million
different scenarios, each ending in disaster. How would he even manage to keep
up? Link had traversed through the electric jungles of Faron, the frozen
wastelands of Hebra, the scorching sands of the Gerudo desert. What services could
he possibly offer to the young hero? Was returning to Purah without Link
somehow safer than agreeing to whatever may be asked of him? And if so, how
could he possibly say no? Symin pushed his fears to the side, realizing that even
if it were to be a death sentence, he owed his loyalty to the hero of Hyrule.
This was something he would simply have to overcome- despite the statistical
probability of his death. He closed his eyes, before quietly asking, “What is
this favor, young Hero?”
Link breathed in and back out slowly. “Would you help me
bake these fruit cakes?”
after he finally earns his z-ring, guzma remakes team skull into team reskull (that one grunt in iki town got the idea into his head). they all try to make up for all the shitty stuff they did in the old team skull, going around and helping folks and pokemon. they fix up po town into a much better base/home (but the graffiti stays. that’s their style, yo)
they’re still a buncha numbskulls, but now they’re well meaning numbskulls who make their muns through more legit ways rather than stealing and selling pokemon
the new gig really helps the self-esteem issues of some of the grunts
Oh thou God shimmering with glory; thee, thee I invoke.
Oh thou who with a steady hand separated the waters, and who orchestrates the winds; thee, thee I invoke.
Oh thou who wears the yellow nemyss with the plooms of Maat; thee, thee I invoke.
Oh thou who bears the Was scepter and the Ankh; thee, thee I invoke.
Oh thou who bears the implements of writing, and the Caduceus; thee, thee I invoke.
Oh thou who’s sash is of white spangled with red, blue, and yellow, and who’s skirt is of yellow and mauve; thee, thee I invoke.
Oh thou who art the designer of Heru-Ra-Ha; thee, thee I invoke.
Thou Magus of the Supernals. Thou Priest of Eternity. Thou who art
crowned with Air and clothed with the Moon. Thou genius of God-head
unspeakable; thee, thee I invoke.
Oh thou who art Tahuti, God of Wisdom and giver of knowledge to the human race. The whole of the Universe is thy prism. Thou who does measure the tides and set their pace. Of the arts thou art author and champion. Thou father of science, thou mind of great Ra. Thou craftsman; symbol, form, and word artisan. Thou who art the illuminator of night, and who art the begetter unto the Light. Master of magick, who divides and unites: you who hone the ways of beauty and of strength.
You sigh to yourself as you tread down the dim sidewalk. You knew no one was ever out this late, even in this part of Seoul. 3 A.M. was perfect for your late night snack runs. The familiar bell chimes lightly as you enter the convenience store you’ve found yourself frequenting since you moved to Korea just a few months ago. You grab a few things to eat and some tea as you remember you just ran out and probably won’t feel like grocery shopping in the near future. After paying the emotionless young man, who you’re sure probably anticipates your arrival each night around this time, you hurry out the door and begin your walk back to your apartment.
Summer nights in Seoul are beautiful and cool. The brisk air sneaking through the thin fabric of you sweatshirt reminds you of home and fills you with a momentary loss of placement as you reminisce in memories of summer back home. You’re pulled from your trance when you notice it’s beginning to rain. It’s a very light sprinkle so you continue on your way, but not before you remember there was one more thing you forgot to buy at the convenience store. You jog back to the store, just in time to take refuge in its shelter as the rain begins pelting the streets. It doesn’t seem as though it’ll be letting up any time soon so you make yourself comfortable at the bar seats in the window, watching the rain dance across the half lit streets lazily as it sparkles across every surface it comes in contact with.
Your thoughts are interrupted once again by an extremely wet and somewhat noisy source. The person that just entered the store is a bustling blur of platinum hair, dripping clothes and endless repetitions of “I’m so sorry!” and “Please forgive me.” You don’t look up until you’re truly disturbed when the person plops down in the seat directly next to you and somehow manages to drench your entire left side in a matter of seconds. You look up at the person’s face, slowly growing angrier the more the water soaks through your clothes. You look into their eyes but instantly feel as though you’ve forgotten why you’re angry. He takes you by surprise. Such a manly look for such a kind face. He looks back at you and his infectious smile that reaches all the way to his soft eyes turns to an apologetic frown when he sees the state you’re in.
“Omo! Did I do that?” He asks, hand pulling his long, incredibly soft looking hair back away from his face. He seems to take your silence as a yes and proceeds to fuss around looking for a solution to the problem he caused. “I - let me help. I’ll clean it up! I just need- ”
You can’t help but laugh at the way he’s squirming around almost frantically beside you. Your laugh seems to confuse him as he stops what he’s doing and lowers himself back into his chair to look at you. “It’s okay,” you assure him, stifling his protest. “It’s no big deal.” You laugh again. You pull off your sweat shirt and use the dry side to soak up some of the water he drenched you with. You smile and hand him the sweat shirt, offering what little absorbency it still holds. Still shocked and confused he slowly accepts it and that huge smiles creeps across his entire face again and something about it makes it feel like sun has come out again. He continues to smile while he uses your sad, wet sweat shirt to dry himself.
“Thank you!” He chirps. That’s it, this is the prettiest man child you’ve ever seen in the history of ever. He looks so familiar. You think you’d recognize someone this perfect and weird and goofy. You know you recognize him but can’t think where you know him from.
Your train of thought is lost when he places a pack of yogurts in front of you both and gingerly wraps your dripping sweat shirt in a plastic shopping bag. He flashes his sunshine smile at you once again and punctures one of the yogurt bottles’ foil tops with a straw a slides it toward you. You gaze down at it and back up at him. “Thank you,” he says again, “please have some, I wouldn’t want to be the reason you got sick tonight.” Something inside of you bubbles over and you return his smile and take the pack. “It’s nice to meet you, even if it is on a night like this.” He extends his large hand to you and you take it with your free one as your other supports the yogurts, straw still in your mouth. “I’m Taemin.” he says with his shining smile, “And you are?”
You choke and erupt into a fit of coughing. That’s embarrassing. But now you know where you knew him from. “No way.” you breathe through heavy coughs.
“Sorry?” His smiles drops, almost to the floor it seems, and he begins patting your back to try to sooth the coughing away.
“You’re Taemin?” You manage, “Lee Taemin?” He nods. “Of SHINee?” He nods again, smile slowing finding its way back to his face. “What- I mean- Why are you-” You sputter, yogurt coughs becoming the last of your worries.
He laughs a contagious, bubbling laugh as you try to find your words. “And you are?” He repeats himself.
“Oh! I’m _______.” You bow your head. You realize a little too late that you’re the same age and you don’t need to speak or behave as formally with him as you have been. But he is one of the most famous idols in Korea and you would feel a bit odd treating him like your peer. However, he did just drench you and use your sweat shirt to clean up his mess. You are very confused right now.
He laughs again, waving his palms toward you. “You don’t need to bow like that!” He chuckles, “I’m sure we’re not very different in age, right?” The flood of warm pink to your cheeks gives you away. “I knew it.” He says coyly.
“But,” you start, voice small and hoarse. You clear your throat and try again. “But, what are you doing out so late here. You don’t live around here, do you?"
"Well, actually, I’m staying in the dorms lately because I’ve been working on my solo debut, so I have to be at the SM building practically all the time.” He sighs, leaning back in his chair and sweeping his fingers through his long, platinum blond hair. You would give anything to play with those fluffy plooms of hair. “But I’ve been coming here around this time for weeks now and no one is ever here.” He says, gesturing to the store at large. “What are you doing here so late?” He leans forward, pointing at you.
You feel yourself blush again. “I almost always come here at this time of night since I moved here.” You say, and you’re proud that you were able to say it so nonchalantly given that your insides feel like they’re having a rave right now.
He cocks his head stares at you intensely. “If you’re always here at this time, why have I never seen you?” He prods.
"I- I forgot something this time and came back to buy it and ended up staying because of the rain.” he sits back, your answer seems to have been enough to satisfy him. You sigh in relief as his intense gaze lifts from you.
You return your attention to the window to see that the rain has let up significantly. “Well,” you breathe, standing and collecting your things, “it was very nice meeting you, Taemin-ssi. Congratulations on your solo debut, I think your new song Danger is wonderful!” You gush, extending a hand to him. He looks baffled.
He grabs your hand and stands up in front of you. “Wait you’re leaving already?” He whines. Is he really the same age as you? “We only just started talking.”
“I know, and I’d love to know more about you, but I have to get home. I have a lot to do tomorrow so I should get to bed.” Bold faced lie and you know it.
“Oh,” he pouts releasing your hand. “Well, it was nice meeting you. I’ll see you around…I guess?”
You smile, nod and tear yourself away from looking at his perfect form and facial features. Even makeup-less and soaking wet, the man is a god. You leave the store with another chime of the bell and begin walking home. You hear an identical chime follow after less than a minute or so and heavy foot steps catch up to you from behind. “Wait!” Taemin grabs your shoulder, breathing heavily, smile wide and bright as ever. “Please, let me walk you home, a city is never safe at night.”
You move to protest but his smiling eyes urge you to do differently. “That’s…fine…I guess.” You smile gently in return and begin walking home once more, this time with Taemin close at your side. The two of you make a bit of odd small talk the whole way there but none of it feels very awkward because of Taemin’s bubbling and bright personality. When you arrive at the door to your apartment, (you don’t know why he felt the need to walk you inside the building all the way to your door,) you turn to face him for the final time. You give him a big smile and he returns it instantly. “Thank you for….everything.”
“No,” he waves his palms at you, “Thank you! You’re company was great tonight, ______. It was just what I needed.” You swear if you could melt you would because damn. How can a person actually be this perfect. “I guess I’ll be seeing you then?”
You nod and he bows ever so slightly before turning around and walking away, back to the elevator and back to his own little world. If little can even be used to describe being an internationally famous idol with a perfect everything.
The moment you’re back in your apartment you put the bags from the store on the kitchen table and jump onto your bed, pulling the covers over you, unable to sleep with the thoughts of your late night adventure running through your head over and over again. You’re turning over to finally drift off to sleep when it hits you. He never gave you back your sweatshirt. That little shit.
AN: I hope you like this! I’ve never written anything like this. Please let me know if I should continue. It was really fun and I think I’d like to see this story progress, wouldn’t you? Let me me know what you think! :)
By now Darkar had made a clear war path of where he had been,a ruined path of dead shriveled plants and scorched earth. Even as he continued his march onward to seek out the others that had offered to help assist the control of the outbreak, he was relentless to terminate anything to far gone by the infection or to dangerous to be left alive.
After some time he did come upon signs of the other’s handy work,which gave him relief to see they were pushing back the scourge themselves. Whether they were having fun or not was unclear to him,he was’nt really having fun but rather…he was concerned of how far back have they managed to drive it,and when could he find them both to tell them his discovery and his theory of where it originated.
So many problems,so little time..winter’s almost here though,maybe it will help but also be a curse…those that they did not find will hibernate possibly…and return come spring in greater mass.
“REN” The high pitched, now distressed voice yelled. “REN HELP!”
Running as fast as his legs would carry him, Ren burst into the clearing at the edge of the forest.
“Nora? Nora what’s wrong?!” Ren yelled, his usually quiet voice raised quite dramatically.
It was this moment when the shorter, red headed huntress turned around, tears brimming in her ice blue eyes. Ren, concerned for his partner, quickly rushed over, grabbing gently her shoulders.
“Nora, please tell me what’s wrong. Are you hurt” This caused Nora to shake her head, looking down at her empty hands.
“Where’s Magnhild?” Ren queried, his pink eyes searching for the giant hammer.
At this, sobs bubbled up in Nora’s throat, and she began to cry.
“IT’S GONE!” Nora yelled, “A BIG MEAN URSA GOBBLED IT UP! THEN RAN AWAY WHEH I THREW A TREE AT IT!” Finishing up with a rather childish foot stomp, the energetic girl pouted.
While he had several questions about what his partner had just said, Ren decided to act upon the most pressing issue at hand.
“Okay okay! Which direction did the Ursa go?” He spoke softly, running his hands up and down Nora’s smooth arms.
Sniffling, Nora pointed left from where they stood. The direction led across the clearing and into another, thicker section of forest.
Ren sighed. He had hoped to polish Stormflower tonight, but his partner came first.
“Let’s go then.” Ren took Nora by the hand, and begun walking in he chosen direction.
After about 20 feet, the pair had to step over a felled tree… In the middle of a clearing… Seemingly ripped out by the roots.
Choosing to say nothing, Ren simply raised an eyebrow at his grumpy partner.
She stayed silent.
10 minutes passed, before Nora suddenly let out a roar that Ren was pretty sure would even scare the wits out of Yang.
It was no surprise, then, that as soon as Nora roared, 4 Beowolves and 1 large Ursa came charging at them.
Ren instinctively pulled out his weapons, and targeted the leading Beowolves. His and Nora’s team tactics usually consisted of Ren taking out the smaller, faster opponents, while Nora used her hammer and her semblance to take down the bigger ones.
Even without her hammer, Nora still charged head first at the Ursa. Using her deceivingly strong hands, she grabbed the bottom of the Ursa’s large jaw, and also latched onto its ears. Using this hold, Nora managed to swing the Ursa to one side, slamming it into a tree. This served to stun the large Grimm.
Ren, on the other hand, was now onto his last Beowolf. Shooting its rear end first, Ren jumped high so that he could use him momentum coming down to stab the Grimm in the back of the neck. Killing it.
When Ren looked back over at his partner, she just caught a glimpse of Nora pulling the Ursa’s head and jaw.. In opposite directions.
Sure enough, after a few sickening moments, the jaw of the Grimm was ripped clean off. Nora dropped the now useless bottom row of teeth to the ground. It promptly dissolved.
The Ursa itself, however, was still alive. And without its bottom jaw, it was powerless to stop Nora from shoving her entire arm down its throat.
After a second of rummaging, Nora made a sound of glee, before smiling deviously.
A faint click could be heard, before the belly of the Ursa exploded in a cloud of pink.
Nora, surrounded in a ploom of the now dead, dissolving Ursa, stood proudly. She had retrieved her hammer, and was now brandishing it over her shoulder.
Ren, sighing, walked over to the redhead.
“Wonderful, can we go back now?” He asked, rolling his sore shoulders.
Nora nodded gleefully, taking the taller boys hand.
“Yup! Thanks for helping Ren!” She chirped, before placing a chaste kiss on his nose. “Boop!”
Ren simply blinked, a faint smile painting those stony features of his.
While making their way back to Beacon, it didn’t seem to occur to either of them that the hand-holding was no longer really necessary.
I didn’t put too much effort in it, so it’s nothing near perfect… but it’s something I desperately wanted to do ever since we started talking about this ~ submitted by kendricks-booze.
A/N: I would like to preface this by saying that I am no Harry Potter expert. I’ve read the books, I’ve seen the films. That’s about it. So just… keep that in mind, and I apologise for anything that strikes anyone as OOC. KB and I have been screaming about this for a while though and I promised to write it for her. And then after she made this manip for me and I kind of freaked out about it… so, here it is. ;)
Beca loves every
dark and dingy corner of the castle. The cold stonework that’s
forever blanketed in a thin film of dust and shadows so dark you can
literally disappear into them. She loves the musty smell of the
books, the one that saturates the furthest most corners of the
library and clings to hallway walls that are far removed from any old
texts. She doesn’t actually read all that much though, enjoys the
smell more than the words on the pages, but sometimes it reminds Beca
of her father. Those days, she’ll pack up her stuff and leave the
Smell was bad. Smell was gone, for all practical purposes, and he felt blind without it. It was the only way he could think to describe the sense, as if an entire spectrum of his reality had been blotted out to gray, to nothing at all.
Smell was bad, but hearing was worse. At least his nose was is the right spot, albeit broken, but on the new moon, sound was not sound anymore. It was something new and something weak and something worse. It attacked him from strange angles and if he weren’t so practiced in fighting the sensation, he would lose his lunch in the initial indoctrination each night. Everyone was speaking from underwater, and any semblance of spatial reasoning was thrown to oblivion. It was dizzying. It was disorienting. And it was terrifying.
Well I’m just done with this. The beginning came easy, the ending was a struggle, it’s all a mess, but i’m just done. Not my best work, people.
The idea came to me after i removed my cosplay nails and felt so naked without them since i had them on so long and in a moment of serendipity i realized THAT’S WHAT NEW MOON INU MUST FEEL LIKE I MUST WRITE! So yeah. *shrugs* it is what it is, and that’s a drabble takes place near the end of the series before Naraku’s death. maybe some OOC-ness near the end, i just wanted it OVER at a point.