Tumgik
#originally he doesn’t have goat eyes or those kind of ears
deathsmallcaps · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
Day 2 of my 25nd Win a Commission Contest! If you guess what story this is from before I post the title, you get a commission! This one ends on May 15, 2021. Here’s a hint for what story it is: Stranger Danger is a real threat for the protagonist.
@boopboopboopbadoop
12 notes · View notes
sapplejack · 3 years
Text
Bloody Roar concept art
Hi guys, a while back I asked a question about whether there were still any Bloody Roar fans. Now that I’ve logged into my Tumblr again, I’ve seen some ppl chime in to say hello! Thus, to keep this fandom (however small it is lol) active, imma post some cool stuff concerning BR; concept art for the first game. *Note that all this info is from Mitsuakira Tatsuta and Shinsuke Yamakawa’s Twitters with some of my opinions and observations sprinkled in 
Tumblr media
So, back when the first game was being developed, the character designers had to rack their brains to come up with good zoanthrope designs. Part of the team were Mitsuakira Tatsuta and Shinsuke Yamakawa and they sketched all kinds of beasts at an incredible rate (like, it was a lot). Mr. Tatsuta himself drew about 300 of them and he said there were a bull and kangaroo design he personally liked but those got rejected (we’ll get there). 
The image above is an unused koala girl whom he and the other artists found funny and couldn’t stop laughing at how terrible and dumb it looked. Tbh, they were kinda right lol. Given how slow koalas are, the image of a humanoid marsupial with boobs running towards you is fucking hilarious.
Tumblr media
Anteater dude. Probably would have played like a mix between Bakuryu and Busuzima. Mr. Yamakawa thought it looked similar to the former. Speaking of which.......
Tumblr media
Early design for Bakuryu. Seems like the mole was going to have ears and a tail. Actually, I’ve always wondered why the Bakuryus didn’t have tails when moles irl do have visible ones. Unless there’s a breed of mole that doesn’t, in which case I’m not aware of. The concept of a 2nd Bakuryu was also apparently already thought up at this time (idk if in the form of a clone, brother, student, etc.) even when Mr. Tatsuta wasn’t involved much in the later games so it’s nice to know that Kakeru/Kenji was not merely an afterthought haha.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Here are 2 very early concept art of Alice. In the 1st one, she looks more mature and edgy. The design/aesthetic may have been recycled into Nagi’s in BR4 (especially the tube top). In the 2nd one, she doesn’t have pigtails since her hair is short and instead wears a giant bow to emulate bunny ears. Very shoujo-esque.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
This is the rejected bull design Mr. Tatsuta mentioned and next to it an early bat zoanthrope. The artist had already thought up some ideas on how they were going to fit in the game. The bat was of course used as the basis for Jenny’s beast form later on. There is also the bull zoanthrope’s human form. The character would be Native American it looks like. Bull guy here had been shown before in concept art included in the BR1 game.
Tumblr media
A black panther woman (literally lol). It looks like she could have been a black character (probably the first and only in the series unless you count Greg). Also, if this character was approved, we’d have gotten even more cats in the roster.
Tumblr media
Squirrel girl, elephant man, and goat lady. The first one looks kinda like a monkey girl (which would be super cute), elephant obvs became Ganesha later, and the goat lady looks more like a demon/satyr to me. This would actually be cool and does fit in with the mythos as shown in the games and the “BR: The Fang” manga i.e., fantasy creatures such as mermaids, dragons, and phoenixes. 
Tumblr media
Kangaroo zoanthrope. Mr. Tatsuta imagined him using the Muay Thai fighting style. Eventually rejected as Roger, another kangaroo fgc, had already appeared in Tekken 1-2 years before.
Tumblr media
Something veeeeeryyyy interesting. This is a pretty detailed design for a character that was going to be Alice’s brother. This guy was also included in the concept art feature in the BR1 game but it was not mentioned who he was supposed to be. I actually thought he was a proto-Yugo or something. Well, if he made it this far into the character creation process (past the rough sketches and onto colored concept art), then there must have been a conceptual storyline for him somewhere along the line. Judging from his appearance and fashion sense (heh), he’s definitely related to Alice.
Additionally, the red eyes and rabbit-like face probably means that he too was going to have a rabbit beast form; maybe even a hare. I guess he was scrapped since having 2 bunnies would’ve been redundant. I wonder how Alice’s backstory might’ve been had her brother existed. Would she have been adopted into the Nonomura family? Was there going to be some plot where she would be looking for him, thinking she lost her family? Who knows. One thing I do know however, is that he’d butt heads with Yugo since he wouldn’t be keen on his sister dating a *gasp* predator.
Now, I think it would be awesome if this character is introduced in a potential reboot/new installment! They could say Alice didn’t know he was alive, or that he stayed away to keep her safe, seeing as she was already happy with the Nonomuras and relegated himself to watching over her in the shadows. Seriouslyyyy the potential is enormous and I’m hoping something will be done with scrapped concepts like this. (Plus, this guy reminded me of the genderbend Alice fanart I did so long ago. I guess male Alice wasn’t too far off after all).
Tumblr media
And lastly, Alice in her sailor fuku (human and beast form). Mr. Tatsuta said this was how he imagined she looked like in that costume.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
That’s all for now! It’s really interesting to see all this concept art and trace back where some designs carried over into later installments of the series. After going through all of them, I yearn even more for another Bloody Roar game! A reboot would be great and some of the rejected designs could be used too. Or continuation with new characters and a bigger roster; that would be even more amazing. Anyway, I thought I should share these sketches by some of the original Raizing/Eighting staff and keep the interest in BR going. We may get something; in regards to Konami trademarking the brand name last year, we just have to wait and see.
60 notes · View notes
the-silentium · 3 years
Text
Murphy day Pt. 2
Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 3 - Part 4
Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader
Words: 3161 words
Warnings: Curses.
A/N:  Yes, I put some ARK:Survival evolved creatures in this, so I do not own their concept. They are just so cute! Also I’m not as good at worldbuilding as @shadow-hyder .
Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.
Tumblr media
"So you guys are Commandos?" You asked as Hunter moved aside the colorful plant blocking your way, his steps following yours closely. 
For the last 10 minutes, you've managed to make good progress in your quest to reach the clones' ship. So deep into the jungle, the prank traps were nonexistent, making it easier for the group to venture without a hitch although it also meant that you were out of the village's defence system. 
Wrecker had been chattering with you for the most part, explaining that they weren't regular clones when you pointed out that referring to them as 'clones' was basically going against the definition of the word as they all looked completely different from one another. 
Unbeknownst to you, a certain bad batcher started to think that you may not be as annoying as he initially thought, your comment about the fact that their mutations made them the best version of their kind was running through his mind. 
The jungle is in constant evolution! Only the bests survive and to do that, they need to mutate! It's the same with you guys. Your mutations make you even more adapted to survive and do your job. That's impressive.
"We are!" You could tell Wrecker was immensely proud of being an elite special team, his enthusiasm made his voice even louder. 
You'd hoped that Wrecker's voice mixed with Tech's repulsive odor would keep the nasty fangs away. Unfortunately, bad luck decided to show its face again.
A branch snapped behind you catching your attention, prompting you to stop dead in your tracks and turn around at the same moment Hunter did. He didn't even have to lift his hand, his troop immediately turned like one man while lifting their blasters towards the moving and cracking flora, their feet firmly planted on the ground, ready to engage whatever there was lurking around. 
The animal was clearly making its way into your direction, its form moved the plants around to form a clear path towards your group. 
The utter silence was nerve wracking. The birds had stopped chirping a while back, when Wrecker had exploded in laughter at one of your joke, the jerboas were definitely keeping themselves at bay along with every non-lethal creature around. 
Crouching very slowly, you reached for your knife, the warm wood connecting with your fingertips relaxed your stress just a little. 
A sigh of relief left your lips when a familiar bleating sound reached your ears. Releasing your knife, you pushed past the rest of the group to search the tall grass for the small herbivore. 
"It's fine." You breathed, your eyes falling on the excited baby, its cute face almost making you aww.  "'s just a Shinehorn." You crouched to carefully take the small light-brown goat in your arms, its tail wagging quickly in excitement. 
The troopers dropped their weapons, all their helmets now focussed on the wiggling animal in your arms. Slowly, you put it back down before giving him more pets under its chin. 
The Shinehorn was still very young, the top of his head reaching just below your knees and his tiny green horns flashing lowly in his excitement. You traced the two green lines marking its back with your fingers, the squeaks you received in response making you giggle. 
"What's a Shinehorn?" Tech asked, crouching next to you to be closer and scan the baby with his helmet. 
"They are small herbivorous animal. Their horns can glow in the dark! Very useful when we have to do night hunts or anything in the dark." You grabbed some berries from a bush nearby, feeding them to him. "They're also very docile." 
With a last pet between its green horns, you got up and let your place to Wrecker who clearly wanted to gush over the newfound ball of cuteness. 
Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed Crosshair, his hand still firmly wrapped around his rifle like the little goat would pound on him or something. 
“Oh! I just thought about that, I know you’re probably very experienced with your blasters seeing as you're all the cream of the clones, but could you not have them in your hands?” You lifted your hands in the air in surrender at Crosshair’s constipated expression. “Just sayin’! Been there, done that, ya know!”
"You accidently shot someone?" Hunter turned his attention from the intriguing creature to you. 
"Not me. But before the laws strictly prohibed people to go out on Murphy day, it was common occurrence." 
All you received was a grunt of aknowledgement, before Hunter called his team back and started walking again. 
To your amusement, the little Shinehorn followed your steps, happily jumping around but never getting in anyones' way. From time to time, you'd grab nearby berries from tall trees to feed him in hope that he'd take a permanent liking to you so you could maybe take him with you on your way back home. 
For the seventh time that morning, Tech tripped on his feet, muttering words in a foreign language that you were sure were curses. It was almost normal now. The small clone would fall on the ground, curse, get up and continue for the cycle to restart a couple of minutes later. You didn't think any of it, having stopped turning around in concern at the 4th time. He had his armor to protect him after all. 
Although, this time you should have turned around. You would have seen that in his fall, Tech tripped Wrecker who was now losing his balance.
A clash of armor hitting armor mixed with the very sudden movement right beside you made you yelp in surprise. Hunter grunted, out of breath and confused, under Wrecker's imposing form. 
Chuckles flew off your mouth, too quickly for you to keep them in, as the bigger clone moved off its C.O. 
"Maybe we could take a break." You proposed, hand digging into your pocket to retrieve your tap. 
"Wouldn't hurt." 
At Hunter's approval you swiftly grabbed your knife, found the nearest bigger tree and tapped it to access the sugary water within the core of the tree. As the water started to drop down the tap, you moved yourself in front of the flow and opened your mouth to drink, calming down your thirsty driven mind. 
Once you were satisfied, you moved aside to let the others access the water. 
"Help yourselves." You motioned toward the dripping tap before sitting next to Crosshair who was picking fruits in a small tree, his helmet on the jungle floor. 
Wrecker was the first to taste the water, his face enlightening the whole jungle with his delighted smile. 
"It's sweet!" He stated to your amusement. He seemed more and more like a child. 
"Yeah. All the drinkable water here is sweet. If it doesn't have a taste, you should spit it out, 'cause it means that it's full of bacterias." 
You stretched your legs to be more comfortable, your hands behind you supporting your body. You petted absentmindedly the young Shinehorn, enjoying the humid wind caressing your face. 
Everyone had their chance to drink, the last one being Crosshair who removed the tap from the tree before throwing the object back at you at your demand. 
The goat approached Crosshair's pile of fruit, clearly interested into eating them, when he was gently denied access by a hand. 
"Not for you Shiny." The sniper muttered, protecting his precious. 
Nice name.
"Pass me some, Crosshair?" Tech asked his brother from his spot before you, helmet now at his side. 
Without a word, you saw a fruit being thrown into Tech's hands. The precision of the shot was flawless and it would have impressed you to no end if your eyes hadn't caught the color of the fruit that Tech was bringing to his mouth. 
"Don't eat that!" You yelled, pushing you forward to slap the pink fruit out of the clone's hand. "Those are the bad ones." You said, ignoring his yelp of pain at your slap.
"But they smell sweet like the water in the tree." 
"Yeah because the tree wants you to eat them instead of the good stuff. It's a defence system." You picked the fruit and threw it away. 
"The ones that smell not so good," You said, picking up a grey similar fruit. "are the good ones. Taste sweet and won't make you puke your guts for hours. There ya go." You passed the fruit to Tech whose gaze was fixed onto something behind you. 
You turned, confused about Tech's worried expression. Realisation hit you like a train, Crosshair didn't have to tell you that he fucked up, his white face along with the almost completely eaten pink fruit in his hand were telling you enough. 
"Kriff. Are you feeling nauseous yet?" You genuinely asked, no sarcasm or malice in your voice. You knew what pain he'd be in, having learned your lesson the hard way, just like him. 
You'd passed a whole day puking like there was no end, bruising your abdominal muscles in the constant effort they had to muster so you could evacuate the content of your stomach, hurting from the biliary acid burning your throat, fighting against the fatigue, dehydration and starvation. 
"Yes." You heard his breathing accelerating and knew what was coming. 
A shiver ran up your spine when he quickly turned around to empty his stomach on the jungle floor. You wanted to help him but knew he'd probably take it badly, so you let his brothers do their thing while you walked a bit away, searching for a specific plant. 
At the moment, you quickly forgot that at the beginning of the trip he had told you to shut up, that he had it coming. You were too empathetic for your good. Once again. 
"I'll be back." You told Hunter before venturing away with Shiny. 
"Please be close, please be close, please-" Searching around, you moved the grass around, peaking at the flowers for yellow petals with purple edges. Shiny whined at your side, nudging you a bit to get your attention, but you chose to ignore the needy baby to continue your flower hunt. 
A bit farther away, yellow petals caught your attention, your legs moving forward to get to them in seconds. With a victory hum, you crouched to pull the base of the flower, exposing its tortuous roots. 
You got up at the same time a low growl reached your ears, freezing you on the spot. Eyes scanned your right frantically for the source of the sound, a pair of sparkling dark hues staring back at you with hunger. Your blood ran cold into your veins, the imposing Dire bear was a good feet taller than you, surely reaching Wrecker's height. 
You clutched the root into your left hand, your right hitching to grab your knife at your ankle. In a very slow movement, you lifted your foot to allow your hand to grab the wooden handle. You almost succeeded when Hunter chose this moment to come looking for you, yelling your name into the trees. 
The Dire bear got scared and ran for you in a roar and you knew you were dead. You couldn't possibly outrun it and had no way to fight it. But you had to try, right? Run, I mean. 
So you ran, the most primal part of your brain taking control and ordered your legs to move as fast as possible towards the armed clones. 
You hadn't ventured too far and Hunter had followed your trail, so your wide terrified eyes met his, the Dire bear almost on you to bite on your neck. In last resort, you put all your faith in the sergeant's quick thinking, diving to the ground, screaming at him to shoot. 
You crashed unceremoniously on your chest, missing the sound of blasters opening fire. An incredibly heavy weight fell on you, pressing your whole body into the dirt, trapping your joined hands under your abdomen. The shock emptied your lungs of air, your mouth and nose were full of furr and dirt, making you panic. 
You desperately tried to push the weight away, take a deep breath of air and scream, but you couldn't do anything. You were trapped. You'd asphyxiate and die. All this because you couldn't control your stupid curiosity. Curiosity killed the tooka. 
You felt tears form in your eyes at the thought, for you were not ready to die. There was so much you still wanted to do. 
Suddenly, the weight disappeared from your back and you were harshly pulled away and rolled onto your back. Your crying wide eyes met the sergeant's, your lungs taking in the biggest inhalations they ever let in, before a wobbly smile stretched your lips. 
"F-found t-the cu-re." You managed to get out in broken words. Your hands opened slowly, showing the brown roots hidden between your fingers. 
Hunter sighed, relieved that you were alright despite crossing path with death. You were lucky he decided to follow the Shinehorn when it started acting up.  
"Are you okay Y/N?" Wrecker's head appeared beside Hunter's, searching your body for wounds. "You're crying." 
Arms slipped under your back and knees, lifting you without a problem. Your hands immediately closed around the root, gripping them tightly like they were life itself. 
" 'm not dead so I'm good." Your head fell onto Hunter's shoulder, you found comfort into the hard uncomfortable piece of armor. You were alive to feel it. "Thank you." 
He looked at you for a couple of seconds and you tried to control the heat assaulting your cheeks by taking deep breaths in. You definitely weren't admiring his tattoo from up close. 
"Didn't do it for you. I had to save the plant." He answered, sarcasm lacing his words. 
You chuckled, closing your eyes for a second. You felt all your energy leaving your body, the adrenalin that powered you moments ago dissipated and let exhaustion consume you. 
"Is she alright?" Tech asked, as another retching sound echoed around. 
"You tell me. Scan her." 
It took a couple of seconds, but you managed to open your eyes to see Tech with his helmet on, the thin screen that was previously up was now right before his eyes. He had a tool in hand, blue rays emanating from its extremity to scan your body. 
"No broken bones or internal injury. She's fine." He lifted the screen back up to get a better view of your state. 
"Can you stand?" Hunter asked.
"Almost sure I can." 
So Hunter lowered your feet to the ground, his hand lifting near your shoulder in case you fell. Your legs were still a bit wobbly, but you stood up, trying to ground yourself at the best of your ability. 
You opened your numb fingers, giving the root to Tech who looked at it with a frown on his face. 
"Break a small piece, remove the skin and give it to Crosshair. It'll help with the nausea and muscle pain." You told him, proud that your voice didn't break. 
"A piece like this?" He broke a piece and showed it to you, not wanting to give too much. They had learned that they should ask you first before eating something. 
"Yeah. Keep the rest for later." 
Nodding, Tech took the vibroknife in Hunter's hand to peel the root, placed the rest of it in his bag, before walking to his grey-haired brother. He tripped once, but managed to stay on his feet. 
You sit on the ground to relieve your legs for a bit, at least until Crosshair was able to walk without puking every 30 seconds. You were sure he'd be as wobbly on his feet as you for a totally different reason. Definitely not ideal for a field trip in the wild jungle. 
It took a good 10 minutes for Crosshair's stomach to settle, his retching stopped, letting him to deal with a slight nausea. With your tap, Hunter managed to get water to Crosshair and yourself before everyone packed up and prepared to go again. Shiny had returned after some time, the poor baby stopped running around and stayed closer to the group. 
"We're almost there." Tech announced at some point and you were grateful. Your legs were ready to abandon you for a while now, although you pushed through to not burden anyone with your adrenalin-less exhaustion. 
"The ship is just after these trees." 
One feet before the other. You repeated to yourself. At this point, all of your concentration was on your feet, you let the environment to Hunter and his apparently enhanced senses. Right, left, right, lef- 
You bumped into Crosshair who had gained energy during the walk while you had the opposed effect. You waited for the harsh comment to come, but it never did. 
"Where's the ship Tech?" Wrecker asked, confused. 
"That's not possible! This isn't the same place! The coordinates are wrong!" He started to panic.
You dropped on your knees beside Crosshair, the open clearing without a ship was the last tol. 
"Describe it to me. " You muttered. 
"What?" The sniper asked, his glare finding your exhausted face. 
"Describe it to me. The place where you left your ship." You concentrated yourself on your breathing, noticing how you started to inhale too quickly. 
"There was a field of glowing purple flowers and a stream with a big rock on one side. There was a gigantic tree too. Way bigger than the rest." He remembered. 
You sighed, tried to get back up with your shaky hands only to be helped by the sniper who pulled you by the pit of your arm. You smiled at him in thanks.
"That's the Waytree." You pointed on your left. "20 minutes of walk in this direction." 
"But that's such a great gap between my coordinates and-" Tech stopped as soon as he met your tired eyes, reading perfectly what you were telling yourself. "It's today." 
"Exactly." You huffed, forcing your legs to start walking again. 
Hunter watched you intensely but you pushed forward, forcing your body to obey you and not fail. All it took was one word from Hunter and a movement of his head toward you. 
"Wrecker." 
Suddenly, you found yourself bridal style in his arms and were carried for the rest of the trip despite you affirming that you were fine and that you were perfectly able to walk by yourself. 
From your position, you had a perfect view of the sky, worrying you to no end.
"No pressure but I'm sure it'll soon start to ra-" A drop of water hit Wrecker's helmet right before your eyes. "Awesome." You sighed. 
131 notes · View notes
Text
stagnant;
author’s note: been a while! this isn't as long as my other fics, but i wanted to write this because i just like the concept of fundy in las nevadas, okay? and smoke breaks. i love writing smoke breaks. and of course, i will be writing about fundy because i am biased and he deserves better lmao. this is all written before the las nevadas arc ever occurs, so if there are any discrepancies by the time las nevadas finishes, that ain't my fault.
also! all of this is platonic! i view schlatt as fundy's other father figure. for quackity, i don't necessarily view him as 100% manipulative towards fundy and schlatt, but you're free to interpret him in any way you want. and yes, i know the situation about schlatt, and i don't support the actions of the cc, but i do enjoy his dsmp character nonetheless.
DO NOT SEND THIS FIC TO ANY CONTENT CREATOR!! be nice!!
laslty, special thanks to my good friend dany from the dsmpanalysis discord server for beta-ing my fic!
relationships: platonic fundy & schlatt (father-son relationship)
warnings: trauma, smoking, gambling, drinking, alcoholism, substance abuse, self-harm (accidentally burning oneself), slight mentions of fire, parental neglect (from wilbur), unhealthy coping mechanisms, implied depression or mental illness, mental health struggles, addiction, references to past violence, death idealization, underaged gambling, arguments (in the background), and general angst!
word count: 1878
summary: fundy closes his eyes, taps on the quartz again, and leans forward on the metal bars of his balcony. he lets out another puff of smoke as he sinks into the lax atmosphere. he gives into the fantasy, the delusion.
a second pair of footsteps are then heard behind fundy, but even then, fundy doesn’t move from his position. he knows who it is anyway— there are only two or three people who had access to the five-star suites on the last floor, and only one of them frequents his room often.
“you know, smoking’s bad for your health,” schlatt tells him with a half-smirk.
or, it's midnight in las nevadas, and fundy has a smoke break with schlatt. he reflects on the state of the server, and he reflects on himself.
( ao3 link )
a click of a lighter, the tapping of dress shoes against chiseled quartz, the rummaging of pockets to fetch another fresh pack of cigs. his paws work automatically: slicing the plastic cover with his claws, fumbling the top open, and finally selecting a cigarette from the batch, twirling it between his fingers to the sound of muffled, jazzy tunes in the background.
with the smoke in between his sharp fangs, he guides the lighter to the end of the stick. there’s a deep inhale, letting the smoke fizzle into his lungs, latching onto every feeling of remorse, regret, guilt, sadness, pain, hurt, trauma, everything— 
and fundy exhales, all of those icky sensations evaporating into misty smoke.
this cycle of mindless smoking continues as fundy stands idly on his hotel room’s balcony. up ten stories high, fundy looms over almost everything in las nevadas. despite it being midnight, las nevadas’ visitors never relent. from above, staring with droopy eyes, fundy sees all four casinos lit up brighter than a neighbourhood during the holidays. no bulbs malfunction, thankfully; all of them flicker and twinkle as if there was something to celebrate about in this place full of deceit and temporary bliss. the bars, while more mellow, have the calmest of tunes blasting from their jukeboxes. when fundy first started working here, he remembers being fond of upbeat tunes like these, but they’ve quickly grown stale, or maybe fundy’s just grown tone deaf overtime. who knows?
everything about this place grows on fundy like a terrible rash. sometimes, he does enjoy the outgoing crowds and customers, but sometimes, the noise overwhelms him— ear-piercing, annoying, inharmonious. so, he ends up in places like his dishevelled room, unkempt from all the alcohol and exhaustion and the fact that he just doesn’t  want to give a fuck anymore. but as much as his room is reminiscent of the rubble he left in his original base, he at least feels at ease with the sounds he hears from above. there is the same jazz music, the same victorious yelling at jackpots, the same rolling from the slot machines, but it’s in diminuendo. 
it’s a symphony fundy will willingly listen to because he feels like he can separate himself from the chaos present downstairs. when he is with the others, when he serves tequila shots and shuffled decks, he feels like he is at the center of his own friends’ descent but from his own bedroom, he can pretend that he is fine, that everything is fine. he can live in the delusion that his friends are shouting from a well-deserved victory when deep in the back of his head, he knows that they’ve gotten inexplicably attached to machinery that he knows is programmed to bring about their demise.
fundy closes his eyes, taps on the quartz again, and leans forward on the metal bars of his balcony. he lets out another puff of smoke as he sinks into the lax atmosphere. he gives into the fantasy, the delusion.
a second pair of footsteps is then heard behind fundy, but even then, he doesn’t move from his position. he knows who it is anyway— there are only two or three people who had access to the five-star suites on the last floor, and only one of them frequents his room often.
the guy who enters pats his back twice gently as a greeting, settling himself next to fundy. fundy averts his gaze from the saturated lights to look at the goat hybrid. with a newly tailored suit and freshly manicured horns, schlatt has never looked more dapper, but his skin was still heavily scarred and immensely graying. 
“you know, smoking’s bad for your health,” schlatt tells him with a half-smirk. fundy lowers the smoke, coughing a little before raising an incredulous eyebrow at schlatt.
“i learned from the worst,” fundy replies as his free hand shuffles through his pockets, holding out the box of smokes for schlatt to get one for himself. fundy doesn’t need to ask schlatt if he has his own lighter; he somehow always does. he’s been used to his mannerisms ever since a darkened flag with glowing, orange lace loomed over a dying country.
schlatt easily raises the smoke to his chapped lips and lights it easily. he falls into the rhythm of the scenery, slouching against the metal railings as he watches the same fluorescent bulbs fundy had been watching. 
moments like these, no matter how incredibly fucked they are, are the closest fundy can get to tasting peace. his father once described peace as a taste of freedom. it is the image of bright-eyed soldiers under swathes of redwood trees, free from the shackles of tyranny and violence their oppressors have imposed on them.
but fundy knows, as always, that his father is a liar, because at this very moment, fundy connects the concept of peace with the disgusting taste of smoke.
it is a habit he’s picked up from a man he’d once considered perfect. back when the server first hit its grayest of days, sometimes fundy’s claws had itched to strike a match, to spark stones. the scorching blaze igniting was the most colorful thing  he’d had in that wasteland of grey. he’d kept doing it more and more and more, until his own fur and skin burned and he realized that he too is graying like the place he called home. when schlatt had first discovered it, fundy remembers a lot of talking—all kind, kind words that have tarnished his perception on what a caring guardian, or a father, may be—and then, out of the blue, fundy asks for a smoke. while a confused eyebrow quirks, schlatt gives him one to try out, saying that there is a first time for everything, especially since their lives have been as mundane as they possibly can be.
and here fundy is now, able to finish an entire pack in the span of a few days as if it is a part of his diet. 
but if all this substance abuse and addiction and self-sabotage and self-deprecation have become so widespread in the server, so normalized, would one even consider it awful? if everyone is traumatized or hurt, does the concept of trauma even exist in the first place?
“you know, i— don’t take this the wrong way, but i thought that you would be much happier to see all your friends reunited,” schlatt speaks, fingers gesturing to tiny specks on the ground that move in sync with the jazz. fundy hums non-committedly as a reply, not really knowing what to say. 
“well, sucks to be you, i guess. mopey ass,” schlatt jokes with the same half-smirk he uses whenever fundy is notably graying like he did in the past. fundy chuckles at it, at least, but his shoulders droop immediately after. the smallest bouts of happiness and joy make him unbelievably tired nowadays.
fundy attempts to lift his smoke again to his lips, but surprisingly, schlatt interrupts, forcing fundy to lower his arm. fundy stares at him acutely with furrowed brows. “fundy, i—” schlatt begins, and his lighthearted expression dwindles into something much more anxious and apprehensive. schlatt clears his throat and continues, “fundy, kid, i know i’m not the type to get all grossly emotional and whatnot—that’s more of tubbo’s thing—but you have to listen to me when i say that you need to leave.” schlatt grips fundy’s forearm now, firm yet slightly shaking. “kid, you’re not healthy here. it’s— you— this—” schlatt gestures towards the buildings, the lights, the entire shithole that they are stuck in, “this is not somewhere you need to be. you need to leave when you can.”
fundy blinks, and then he blinks once more before his free hand shrugs off schlatt’s grip. he returns to his original position of leaning against the railing, and through the reflection of the cold metal, fundy can see the unpleasant surprise on schlatt’s face transform into something more defeated. a pregnant silence precedes a long, exasperated sigh from schlatt. the edges of fundy’s lips slightly curve downwards.
“well, it would be easier if it weren’t for the fact that i literally have nowhere else to go,” fundy replies monotonously, as if this statement is something he’s rehearsed several times before. “i’ve hit rock bottom, schlatt. i have nothing else to lose,” fundy continues, huffing out a melancholic chuckle. he doesn’t think this situation he’s stuck in is anything comedic, but it sure is amusing how his life has continuously spiralled further and further for the past five years. he’s amused by the fact that he is still very much alive and breathing by this point despite the—fundy looks at his half-finished cigarette, the livid circles under his eyes, his furrowing ears as being exposed to multiple explosions has caused a permanent, high-pitched sound to ring in them sporadically—small, little missteps. 
it’s quiet again as schlatt stares at fundy uncomfortably. “you’re really out here wishing for god to strike you dead in front of a dead man— how very respectful of you,” schlatt replies sarcastically. fundy knows schlatt only wants to lighten up the mood. schlatt has been very persistent in helping fundy find the brighter side of things for a while, but lately, they’ve fallen flat. is schlatt’s eloquence gradually deteriorating, or is it fundy who’s only gotten more numb towards schlatt?
fundy doesn’t know, and both possibilities are undesirable, really, so fundy decides to speak. “i’m sorry,” fundy says, and he doesn’t know if it is for himself or for schlatt. maybe it’s for the both of them.
schlatt’s look softens, and he raises his free palm to grip fundy’s shoulder, thumbing it for comfort. a part of fundy wants to sob, to cry, but he chokes all his tears back with an inhale of smoke. “i’m sorry too,” schlatt murmurs, his voice the softest and the most caring it has ever been. when fundy exhales, he can feel tears prick the corners of his eyes as schlatt continues, “you deserve better.”
fundy hums and his eyes trail downwards to gaze at las nevadas’ visitors once more. he spots ranboo, possibly exhausted judging by his sloppy movements, forcefully pulling a crazed tubbo from a slot machine. fundy remembers that inside, he has seen purpled, foolish, and puffy shout over a simple card, a two of clubs, arguing on whether they should split the fifteen stacks of diamonds or not. he remembers finding sam outside the bar next to the trash bins downing his own personal bottles of alcohol, gripping tightly on a withered rose as he sobs uncontrollably. at the side, he can now see a distressed bad and ant incessantly begging the blackjack booths to accept their territory offers as they’ve lost all their possessions to far too many rounds of roulette wheels and texas hold’ems. he also spots a jovial yet sly quackity skipping through the streets energetically as a stern techno and phil trail behind him, ready to smite anyone who dares terrorize the place. 
and lastly, he stares away from the crowds and returns to gaze at schlatt—tired eyes, frayed hair, drying skin—with a bittersweet smile. fundy replies, “i think we all do.”
35 notes · View notes
yodawgiherd · 3 years
Text
You Were Never Truly Gone ch.6
>>>Read on AO3<<<
More plotting, because I want to finish this before I run out of steam ;< Enjoy! (hopefully)
When Mikasa walked the streets of the city, the tension was thick in the air. It was the same when she was here with Annie, helping her out with wedding preparations. Dark looks, posters, groups of Yeagerists hanging out on corners. Despite herself, Mikasa’s lips pulled into a tight line.
This is not what Eren died for, to have a militaristic group twist his ideals.
It got better when she neared the Hizuru embassy, one of the last bastions still protected by the soldiers from the foreign country. They saluted when Mikasa came close, the captain addressing her right away.
“Lady Ackerman, we were expecting you.”
“Is Kiyomi here?”
A curt nod.
“She is waiting for you.”, he took a step backward, “If you would follow me, please.”
Allowing herself to be lead through the winding corridors, Mikasa was soon ushered into a room with the clan’s crest at the door. Kiyomi was in her office, sitting behind a large table, standing up when they entered. Dismissing the soldier, who gave them a last salute before disappearing, the pair was left alone.
Taking a seat, Kiyomi gestured for Mikasa to make herself comfortable.
“I hope that your journey wasn’t too perilous.”, the older woman said.
“The city is on the brink,”, she replied without any wrappings, “and it’s because of you.”
“Maybe so, but if I understood your letter correctly that will change...”, Kiyomi tilted her head to the side as she studied her, “Am I wrong?”
“No, that’s am I here.”
With that, Mikasa took a deep breath and began laying her cards on the table.
“I have exactly three conditions before I agree to go with you.”
So close. Kiyomi was so close that she could taste the victory on her lips. Four years it took her, but now the Shogun’s blood was agreeing to finally take her rightful place, and the woman would do anything to get her.
Anything.
Hiding her excitement behind a dignified professional mask, Kiyomi gave Mikasa a nod.
“I’m sure that if those are within reason, we can come to an agreement, lady Mikasa.”
“First – you will renew your support of queen Reiss.”, the raven began.
This much Kiyomi anticipated and was willing to agree on.
“Very well.”
“Second – when we arrive at Hizuru, I want to be immediately shown to the people. Parade through the city would be ideal, maybe followed up by a meeting with the ruling council?”
Now Kiyomi had to bite her inner cheek not to frown. Her plan was to smuggle Mikasa in, and then present her at the next council meeting as an Ace. This move that she demanded wasn’t what the old woman wanted but then again…
The most important thing is that Mikasa Ackerman was coming home, and it was her – Kiyomi Azumabito - who brought her.
“Fine, I agree. And the last thing?”
Mikasa tapped her finger against the table.
“Third – I want someone to come with me. A dear friend of mine, who also lost everything in the war and is looking for a fresh start.”
Now Kiyomi got suspicious. A friend that Mikasa had to have with her? As far as she knew, her dearest friend was the blond man, Armin Arlert, and that one would definitely not come to Hizuru. He was traveling all over the world for his diplomatic assignment, chaining himself to one place made no sense. What if….
Mikasa was alone for a long time, she lost someone very dear to her, maybe she found a rebound in someone? A man or woman she could confine in, one she could share things with. Maybe even her bed?
“Tell me, is this friend a lover of yours?”, Kiyomi straight up asked.
Damn, that was fast.
“Would that be a problem?”, Mikasa countered, meeting the older woman’s eyes.
Now Kiyomi was the one tapping the table, thinking.
Was it a problem? The Shogun was expected to have concubines, but his wife….
Then again, his wife would be a war hero and the last descendant of the bloodline. Kiyomi’s triumph was bound to be tainted a little bit if she shipped Mikasa with plus one in a single serving, but it was manageable.
“No, it’s fine.”, she said out loud, “Your husband will most definitely have other women, so It is only fair for you to have someone to take care of your pleasure. As long as you keep certain limitations in mind, of course.”
“Such as?”
“You must appear by the Shogun’s side at any official event, you must never be seen by the public with your lover, and most importantly…” Kiyomi raised a finger, “You must give the Shogun an heir.”
“Is that so…”
“Of course. A boy would be ideal, but we could make even a girl work. You see, I’m not stupid enough to ask you to love the man you will marry, yet I must ask you to share his bed a few times until you get pregnant.”
Kiyomi spread her hands.
“You can spend as much of your free time as you want with your lover, he can sleep with you every night when you are not attending the Shogun’s needs. Your husband must always come first – understand?”
She gave Mikasa something that Kiyomi hoped was an encouraging smile.
“As soon as you are pregnant with his child, I promise that he will leave you alone. If you wish it so.”
“How do you know?”
“I picked the boy myself, he is a son of a very influential house and not a bad man at all. Good-looking, courteous, he will respect you, admire you maybe. You are a hero, after all.”
“I have one more question – is your staff the same you had when you first came to Paradis?”
A strange one indeed, but if Mikasa wanted to know…
“No, I have to change my whole group about once a year. This job is not exactly popular back home, so people do not stick around.”
“I see.”
“Any reason why you asked?”
A tiny smirk appeared on the raven’s lips.
“Not really, I was just curious.”
“So is everything to your satisfaction then?”
“It is.”, Mikasa stood up, “Let me know when the details of my transport are finalized.”
“Of course. See you soon then, lady Mikasa.”
Negotiations done, she left the office with a new hope blooming in her chest. Maybe this thing would work after all.
The packing felt unreal if Mikasa was being honest. She was leaving the cabin where she kind of expected to stay forever in. Instead of that, she and Eren were filling boxes with stuff, deciding what to take and what to leave behind.
Sometimes, they disagreed on these matters.
“You can’t be serious about leaving Yams,”, Eren protested upon hearing her intention, “How could you be so cruel.”
“Babe, it’s a goat.”
“No, it’s The Goat.”
Carefully, she massaged her temples, watching as Eren hugged the animal.
“Just look at her.”
“I am looking, and please don’t forget that Yams is for some reason always watching when we…”, a slight blush entered her cheeks, “do things.”
“C’mon, you know that she doesn’t mean anything bad by it.”, he rubbed the goat behind the ears, “Do you, Yamsy?”
“I…”
Sensing her doubts, Eren let go of the goat and wrapped Mikasa in a hug instead, rocking her from side to side.
“Pretty please.”, he whispered against her hair.
Yams, on the other hand, was saying nothing, simply staring at the pair. As always.
But it felt so nice when Eren held her, and Mikasa couldn’t bring herself to say no to him.
“Okay, fine.”
The celebratory kiss that Eren gave her didn’t even feel that good, because she knew that Yams is watching again, the gaze drilling into the back of Mikasa’s head.
In an effort to conceal his identity a bit, Eren grew out a beard and Mikasa kept his hair in a short undercut. Eren Yeager was most known as a long-haired clean-shaven maniac, so this would help. Far from perfect, of course, as anyone who truly knew him would see right through that, luckily there weren’t many of such individuals in Hizuru.
She gave the cabin keys to Niccolo, who promised to take care of it. They met in front of Sasha’s grave and neither of them held back on the tears, freely spilling and drenching Mikasa’s scarf.
“Don’t forget to visit Sasha for me.”, Mikasa pushed through the tears, “Tell her that I’ll be thinking about her.”
“Of course,”, he nodded solemnly, “I’ll visit Eren too, don’t worry.”
It took her a second and Mikasa had to mentally slap herself for it. Eren was dead to the world, she had to keep the act up, no matter how hard it was considering that just this morning she woke up with his arms tightly coiled around her stomach.
It also reminded her of the strange sickness she felt in the morning, but it was probably nothing serious. The stress, she reasoned, the moving and all were taking a toll on her body.
“Leave some flowers on his grave from time to time. He likes that.”
“Will do.”
They shared a last hug, and then Niccolo was pulling back, a watery smile on his lips.
“Take care of yourself, Mikasa, I’ll miss you.”
The original plan was to leave quietly, disappear from the island one day without any further ado, but this was changed when Mikasa visited Historia.
“Please, make it official,”, the queen was saying, “If you leave like that, I’m sure that the Yeagerists will twist it against me. Something along the lines that I sold you to Kiyomi, that you were forced to go against your will.”
Mikasa, who was rocking Ymir on her lap, frowned, and not because of the child that was trying to eat her long hair. Looking left and right, she made sure that they are alone before dropping her voice into a whisper.
“We can’t exactly have a celebration, you know, not when Eren is…”
“I know, I know, I don’t want Eren to show himself, I just want you to make a show. He can sneak on the boat for all I care, but you – you are important.”
She grasped Mikasa’s hand a bit tighter.
“Do it for me.”
Well, one does not say no to the queen herself.
“All right, your way it is then.”
The boat arrived with a load of Hizurian soldiers, who very quickly took positions all around the city. Walking through it now, the atmosphere was no longer so tense, and people weren’t afraid of being on the streets anymore. The Yeagerists were forced to retreat for now, taking their aggression and posters with them.
As agreed, Eren, or the random “friend” as the others knew him, was sneaked on the board beforehand alongside Yams with no big fuss. Kiyomi was busy with Mikasa and no one else could identify the man, the Hizurians had no idea that it was the devil himself who was now hiding in the cargo hold.
Mikasa didn’t have such an easy exit. Dressed in her old uniform and put on a pedestal, she couldn’t help but feel nervous about all this sudden attention. People were looking at her, cheering or staring angrily. Her exit was either understood as a patriotic act to help the Island or a betrayal and desertion, depending on who you asked.
She had to give a short speech, saying that she will always remember Paradis and the people here, but that she is finally going home. Kiyomi gave one too, talking about how this will strengthen the bonds between Hizuru and the island. Historia had the last one that didn’t say much apart from the classic uplifting words.
She was getting good at being a politician.
Some handshakes later and a teary hug from the queen, Mikasa was good to go. Ymir was crying again, upset because auntie Mikasa is leaving, but sadly the world didn’t care for the needs of one child. A few minutes later the war hero of Paradis, Mikasa Ackerman, was leaving her old home behind and sailed towards Hizuru. The island shore was slowly bure surely becoming smaller as she watched on, hands gripping the railing.
This was happening.
Kiyomi appeared next to her, the smile of a satisfied cat on her face. She got everything she wanted, so Mikasa supposed that the old woman was on cloud nine right now.
“You have to introduce me to that secret “friend” of yours.”, Kiyomi said, “The sailors who helped him board are all saying that he’s a very nice young man. Handsome too.”
She nudged Mikasa lightly.
“Good choice.”
If she only knew.
“Thanks.”, Mikasa replied flatly, “I’ll go get him then.”
She had to stop and ask for directions a few times, as the boat was quite big, yet in the end Mikasa managed to locate and enter the cargo hold. Eren was sitting next to Yams, talking about something with the goat, yet when she appeared he stood up instead, a huge smile on his face.
“We made it.”, he said, but Mikasa shook her head.
“Not yet. Now we must hope that Kiyomi won’t try throwing you into the ocean.”
“She wouldn’t risk upsetting you.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Well..”, Eren reached out, taking her hand, “I trust you with my life.”
Squeezing his fingers between hers, Mikasa returned his uncertain grin.
“Let’s get to it then.”
Kiyomi was still at the place where Mikasa left her, staring into the distance with a dreamy look on her face. In her mind she was probably back at Hizuru already, receiving all the commendations for bringing the Shogun’s blood back. As they drew near she turned towards them.
“Finally I get to see that mysterious man who captured lady Mikasa’s heart. Introduce us?”
Mikasa swallowed, ignoring the hammering of her heart. This was one of the riskier parts of her plan, one where she had to hope that Kiyomi won’t act in an unpredictable way.
“Of course.”, she nudged Eren forward, “This is Aaron, my best friend and partner. Aaron, this is Kiyomi Azumabito.”
“Aaron is it?”, Kiyomi took a step closer, “Let me take a look at you…”
Heart racing to match Mikasa’s, Eren raised his head to meet the old woman’s gaze.
Sun flashed in those green emeralds and Kiyomi stopped dead in her tracks, eyes widening and mouth falling open with a single word.
“No.”
13 notes · View notes
thiswasinevitableid · 3 years
Note
Okay well then!!!! I am very glad and excited to share my most recent idea I had while rereading Yeti Hunting again!! And the new Incubus one too!! They're almost exactly the same idea, just different flavors I suppose. Also Joe is trans in both the ideas but that's less to do with the ideas themself and more to do with just me projecting on him sgfjgsjfhsjdh
Okay so it's like a reverse au so Stern is some kind of cryptid, but as far as Barclay knows they're just two good human friends (but maybe they wanna be a little more than friends...). And then one day Joseph goes into heat and tells Barclay he's sick to try to keep him away, but Barclay being the sweetest man alive goes to his house with fresh soup to take care of him and Joe seems really panicked about Bar being there and tries to make him leave but he is CLEARLY unwell and Barclay is very stubborn when it comes to helping people he cares about and so he plants himself down on the couch and says he's not leaving until Joe tells him what's wrong and Stern tries to hold onto his human form but it's taking too much focus and energy and whoops Barclay finds out his friend not human and currently in distress and so horny it hurts and if he can help his friend and fuck him at the same time, well then that's just a win all around (bonus points if at the end Barclay is kinda sad because he thinks Joe just needed somone to fuck him, not nessacarry Barclay, but Joe frantically assures him that he is SUPER into him and if it were anyone else he would have kicked them the hell out and probably skipped town bc he couldn't trust anyone else with a secret like this).
Or!! (This is where the incubus part comes in) Joe is an incubus and currently hiding out in his human disguise at the Amnesty lodge and it's going fine for a while, but then he starts talking to and getting to know the really hot chef. And they slowly start growing closer and closer. And maybe in this world, the power an Incubus gets from sex depends just as much on their desires as it does the human's. And this has never been an issue for Stern before, but now he's falling for Barclay and wants him and no one else so he's getting less and less energy from his encounters and Barclay is worried about him because he doesn't seem like himself anymore. Almost as if he's... dulled? When Barclay looks at him the blue of his eyes seem muted and his general aura seems... gray. And it all comes to ahead when Joe finally stops insisting he's fine and after dinner one night he asks if he can speak to Barclay privately, and he comes clean about everything and Barclay, while a little shocked, rolls with it very well and cups Joe's face in his hands and kisses him softly and it like,,, you should have come to me sooner, I'd do anything for you,,, and yeah it's really tender,,,,
Okay that's it I'm sorry it's so long and probably incoherent. I tried to use at least little formatting to make it better but it's a tumblr mobile ask, I'm not sure even the new paragraphs will translate over. The general idea is that they're close friends and Stern is Not Human and Barclay finds out under less than ideal circumstances :3 I know these are far from original or unique but I just wanted to share my ideas with you bc you're the inspiration for a good 70% of my private writings, but if you like them enough and ever feel like doing something with them that'd be cool ;3
Here you go! I went with scenario one. Content Note: some “mating” talk and mild subdrop at the end (which is, of course, taken care of)
The two canvas bags are ready to burst. Barclay peers into them, contemplating the addition of another box of tea, in case Joseph doesn’t like the other two. Mama was cagey when he asked, he doesn’t know what’s ailing the other man, only that he’s sick. 
Joseph manages Amnesty Lodge, where Barclays’ been a cook for the last six months. Barclay was initially wary of him; his cosmopolitan bearing and clean-cut appearance is so out of place in the rustic mountain town of Kepler that the logical explanation is he’s one of those city types who fell on hard times and got stuck here. 
It took less than forty-eight hours for him to prove Barclay wrong. Polite and polished, efficient and stunningly good in a crisis, Joseph handles the day to day chaos of the lodge while Mama, the owner, took care of the big picture stuff. His friendly greetings and consistent compliments about Barclays cooking gradually turned to afternoons spent at a table with his work so they could talk during lulls in business. 
When Joseph leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, laughing as he helped Barclay tidy the kitchen, the cook rushed headlong into his crush and never looked back. He regularly dreams of blue eyes and a movie-star face, finds his day doesn’t really start until Joseph pokes his head in to say good morning. 
He’s been without that greeting for two days now. Joseph never misses work, and his sudden absence worried Barclay enough that he checked with Mama to be sure the manager was okay.
“Joe’s fine big fella, just under the weather is all.”
The one time Barclay got sick, Joseph brought him tea and soup himself, checked in on him every hour, and--if Barclay’s fever addled brain is to be trusted--fluffed his pillows. It’s the least Barclay can do to drop off snacks and be sure his friend is okay. 
It’s a short drive to cabin Joseph calls home; he used to live at the Lodge, but as it got more crowded, he moved to his own space so those who needed a cheap, safe place to stay could have one. 
His knock on the door is answered by a brisk, “Who is it?”
“Barclay. I, uh, I brought you a get-well gift.”
Joseph opens the door to the cabin and to an entire new universe of fantasies. His normally slicked-back hair falls, relaxed, across his forehead, his loosely tied blue robe shows a tantalizing V of skin, and the dreamy-sleepy expression makes his face even more kissable. 
“Hi.” Joseph takes a step forward, taking the bags and bringing his face achingly close to Barclays’. Then he freezes, reversing into the house, “I, um, it was very sweet of you to bring all this. But you need to go.” He takes another step back, then doubles over with a groan. 
Barclay hurries across the threshold, setting the bags on the floor and steadying him over to the couch.
“Fuck, do you need me to get you like a heat pack, or a puke bucket?”
“No, no I just need to lay down, and for you to g-” he shudders, curling in on himself and tipping sideways. 
“Joseph, you’re really sick, I’m not gonna just leave you here. I mean, fuck, what if it’s your appendix or something?” He sits down next to the shaking man, rubbing his back comfortingly. 
“It’s not, I promise. Oh lord” he whines, looks at Barclay with frantic eyes, “I hope you can keep a secret.”
“Of course I can. Whatever I can do to help, I want to.” 
“Careful with those promises, big guy.” The nickname comes out in a growl as Joseph stands, undoing his wristwatch. 
“Oh FUCK!” Barclay scrambles back, almost falling over the arm of the couch.
There’s a monster where Joseph just was. Years ago Barclay saw a Maned Wolf in a zoo, and he’d swear that’s what he’s looking at now were it not for several glaring issues. First, it’s standing comfortably on two legs. It’s paws are more like hands, able to hold the watch and adjust the collar of its shirt. And he’s never seen a wolf, maned or otherwise, with spines down its back and a whip-like tail.
The creature runs a clawed hand through the fur at the top of it’s head, the way Joseph does when he’s nervous,  “So. I can’t tell you everything, at least not right now. What I can tell you is that this is the form I was born into, somewhere far away from earth.”
“Okay.” Barclays brain grinds like a broken ice machine as a familiar voice speaks to him from a fanged mouth. 
“I, um, I’m what humans call a Chupacabra. To answer the usual questions: no, I’ve never been to Puerto Rico. No, I don’t eat goats. And no, I’m not going to eat you.”
“Okay.” His heart is still racing, but not from fear, which is the most confusing was this could have gone.
Pointed ears flick, worried, “Are you in shock?”
“Kinda, yeah.” He nods as Joseph sits next to him with a heavy sigh. 
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I took the next few days off to avoid this exact scenario. I figured I wouldn’t see you, but forgot how thoughtful and caring you are.” Claws gently stroke Barclays hair, “my wonderful Barclay.”
He’s about to bring his hand up, cup those strange fingers to his cheek and whisper “always”, when Joseph pulls away. 
“I, I’m sorry. Again. I always get too handsy when I’m in heat. That’s the second worst side-effect, after the fact that being in my disguise is untenable when I’m in the thick of it. It’s like wearing a wet, wool sweater made of nausea.”
“....Hold on, you had to take time off work because you’re horny?” 
“Almost. Heat doesn’t come that often for me, which means whenever it happens, it’s intense. I have a hard time eating or sleeping, I can’t focus, and I spend most of the week masturbating. Which is not as fun as it sounds; I’m not even at the height of the damn thing and last night I humped a pillow on the kitchen floor while dinner reheated.”
Barclay groans, tries to hide it when the ears swivel his way, “Uh, guess I’m glad I brought you lots of food so you remember to eat. Shoulda, uh, put some lube or something in there as well, huh?” 
Joseph chuckles, “My nose tells me you put molasses cookies in there, so I’ll let it slide.”
“There anything else I can do to help?”
“Well…” he shakes his head, “never mind, I can’t ask you to do that.”
“Do what?”
“My heat is more manageable when I have a partner. Fucking someone relieves things more effectively than masturbation does. But I can’t-”
“I can help with that.” The offer is out before his brain catches up with his mouth. 
“Barclay, my kind have a very, um, involved mode of, um, well, I guess you foreplay. As, as much as I’d love for you to be my mate” he winces, “see, that’s what I mean. I say things like that, most of them not even possible given the fact you and I can’t reproduce.” 
“Uh, does it help if I say hearing you call me that is really hot?”
Blue eyes widen, and a tail traces up Barclays leg, “Only if you mean it.”
“I do.”
A narrow, long tongue flicks into the air, “In that case, big guy, how about we have a little planning session over dinner?”
-------------------------------------------------
Barclay parks in the driveway, next to Josephs’ sedan. He heads past the house and down a short slope to a creek, the twilight sky casting the forest in eerie grey-blue. There’s a tire swing leftover from a previous resident, and he idly pushes it back and forth as he waits for the game to start. 
“It’s like hide and seek” Joseph wipes his mouth, cleans cookie crumbs from the table, “We start outside, move inside, and you go as long as you can without me catching you. After all, I want a mate who can hold his own.”
He stuffs his hands in his jacket pocket to warm them. A yip bounces out from the trees behind him. When he turns, he quickly spots glinting eyes and bared fangs hidden in the undergrowth. 
Sprinting towards the cabin, he realizes Joseph laid a trap for him from the start; by asking him to begin at the creek, he’s forcing him to run uphill to safety, slowing him down. He lets his lizard-brain, concerned only with the fact that something dangerous is chasing him, take over and drive his legs as fast as they’ll go. The back door is locked, he double-checked that on the way down, so he doesn’t waste his time trying it, races to the front of the cabin and slams the door shut just as something huge rounds the corner after him. 
The nob jiggles, his pursuer testing the lock and discovering the thrown deadbolt. Barclay uses those few seconds to secure the windows on the first floor, throws his jacket down into the cellar as a failsafe, and bolts up to the bedroom. His hammering heart insists that locking that door is not enough, so he crawls into the closet and shuts himself up among the meticulously organized shirts and slacks. It’s not enough space for him to stand, so he tucks his knees to his chest and waits. 
“What happens if I, like, completely outsmart you.”
A toothy smile, “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”
Each of the downstairs windows rattle in turn. Then the scratching starts, claws on wood coming closer with each breath. Joseph is climbing the wall up to the bedroom window that Barclay knows for a motherfucking fact he did not secure. 
A shuff as the window slides open, the cryptid landing with remarkable stealth on the bedroom floor. Barclay tracks him by the light coming under the closet door, his mouth covered so his breathing won’t give him away. The shadow pauses, sniffs, and then the bedroom door opens and shuts. Barclay’s not moving until he hears the front door do the same. 
Just as his legs start to protest being smushed up against his chest, the door reopens. Snuffling signals Joseph closing in, and an instant later the only light coming in is from the far ends of the door. Slowly, his last line of defense rolls to the right, revealing the creature crouching on the other side.
“Not a bad effort, big guy. You actually confused me for a minute with the scent trail of your coat downstairs.” Joseph reaches for him and Barclay, remembering that he’s not supposed to give up until he’s pinned, leans away. 
“That’s how my mate wants to play?”
“J-just following your instructions, babe.”
An intrigued purr, “I guess you are. All the more reason you’re the perfect partner for me.”
The words Barclays dreamed of hearing for months distract from the claws closing around his ankles. He lets out an undignified yelp when Joseph pulls his legs straight out and drags him out of the closet. Once he’s free of the forest of clothing, the cryptid picks him up and drops him on the bed. He moans and Joseph snickers, joining him on the bedspread. 
“Fuck, Joseph, no one’s ever been able to do that before and it’s so, so fucking hot.” He arches his back and shifts his limbs to help Joseph undress him.
“It’s because you’re the perfect size; big and strong, large enough to give me a decent cuddle when I’m human, but still small enough to be an easily subdued mate.” He gets the humans’ jeans and boxers off, hesitates, and then tosses them on the floor with a pained expression, “I’ll fold those later.”
“Gonna hold you to that. Also, wanna point out that it wasn’t that easy to subdue me.”
Joseph nuzzles his cheek, claws caressing his thighs, “Barclay, I was jogging while you were sprinting.”
“You coulda caught me right awaAAy ohwhatthefuck.” Tingling heat glides down his throat as Joseph licks a stripe along the skin, “fuck, it, it feels like the time I tried hot wax.”
The cryptid sits up slightly to look at him, “Is that a...good thing?”
“Fuck yeah. I really fucking liked it but it was fucking murder with the chest hair.”
Joseph runs his claws through the hair in question, “I like it.”
“I know, I saw you eyeing me that one time I used the springs at the lodge.”
“You can’t prove anything.” Joseph leans back down, curling his tongue around Barclays left nipple. The sensation makes him buck his hips, which Joseph correctly takes as a signal for more. He moves to the other side, takes his time teasing it and licking down the sensitive center of Barclays chest. Noses his stomach, nips his sides, and slides the alien heat of his tongue into the crease of his thighs. 
“Y’know I, ohfuck, I assumed from all that talk yesterday you’d get right to fucking me.”
Joseph kisses the inside of one thigh, “I, um, I thought about it, almost ripped your jeans to shreds and took you on the floor. But I wanted to be sure you were turned on. You’re not just a warm body, Barclay. You’re my mate. That means your pleasure matters as much as mine.” He licks up Barclays’ cock, hardened from rubbing against the soft fur of his belly, and sighs, “and what a mate.”
“Fuck” he squeezes his eyes closed because if we watches that mouth saying everything he wants to hear in between sucking his dick, he’ll cum in ten seconds flat. 
A final lick to the tip and then Joseph hops off the bed, “Did you prep the way I told you?”
“Uhhuh.” 
“Good.” Joseph returns, sets several items he can’t see by his feet, “that’ll make things easier. First things first” he produces a cock cage, sliding it into place, “these are a few things I smuggled over from my original home. This is enchanted, so it can go on an erect cock but still prevent the wearer from cumming until it’s removed.”
“That’s just cruel, babe.” He sits up on his elbows to kiss Josephs snout, earning him a pleased yip. 
“If you cum too fast, I won’t be able to properly breed you.” He winces again, “sorry, I sound like one of Indrids romance novels.”
“Again, gorgeous, I find it really fucking hot.”
The spines on Joseph’s back ripple, “You think I’m gorgeous? Like this?”
“I do. Also kinda scary, but in a hot way.” Now it’s his turn to cringe, “see? I sound like cheap porn written by an eighth grader when I’m horny. The way you sound is fine.”
Joseph lovebites his ear, then retrieves the other two items from the end of the bed. 
“And how does this look, big guy?”
“Like it’s either going to kill me or make me cum like a dozen times.” He furrows his brow at the strap-on. It’s narrower than the average human dick, with a pointed, slightly up-curved tip. What’s worrying him are the spikes. 
The entire shaft is coated in short protrusions. They don’t end in points, thank god, but if they’re at all stiff this is going to be miserable. 
“Here” Joseph waves him over, “touch it.” He guides his fingers along one side and the spines bend fluidly under his touch, and now all he wants to know is how they feel inside him. Joseph also moans, bucking his hips so the toy slides along Barclays palm.
“It’s, ohlord, also enchanted so that the wearer feels it as an extension of their body and can cum with it. Also, please decide in the next thirty seconds whether you want to be on your back or your stomach.” Amber pre-cum drips down Barclay’s fingers. 
“Stomach is better for meWHOAH, ohfuck, okay we’re doing this.” Now flipped on his belly, he raises his ass. The cryptid kneads it appreciatively before holding it open and sliding his cock in with once, graceful thrust. 
He bottoms out with a groan, which is more articulate than Barclay is managing to be as the spines rub and glide inside him, finding every patch of nerves, every angle to drag against in just the right way. Joseph hauls him onto his knees and then he’s off, growls and yips filling the as he fucks him. Barclay only just registers the bed banging into the wall so forcefully the headboard is cracking when claws sink into his hips and Joseph pulls him all the way onto his cock and pulses into him. 
“Holy fuck that was fast.”
“I, I didn’t jack off once today. Didn’t want to waste it, wanted to save it all for my perfect mate.” He’s thrusting again, not as hard but twice as fast, “shit, you feel so good, big guy, please tell me Mama okayed your time off for tomorrow.”
“Wh-why are we talkingAHnnn, about this now?”
Hot breath tickles his ear, “Because now that I know what’s like to cum in you, I don’t plan on cumming anywhere else for the next day and a half.”
“Ohfuckme” Barclay groans happily into the pillows as Joseph empties into him, cries out when his tail whips across his calf.
“Shit, did that hurt?”
“No, no it felt good, fucking-A babe every fucking part of you is amazing.”
The cryptid whines, pleased, and wiggles his hips, giving Barclay an idea. 
“That’s, uh, that’s why I want you for my mate, because you’re so fucking goo-mmph” his face presses harder into the pillows as Joseph pins his shoulders down and fucks into him, snarling “yes” over and over again. When he finishes this time he hunches over, nipping Barclay’ shoulders and neck. 
“You catch on quick, big guy.”
“Thanks, babe. Uh, are we gonna switch it up at any point or am I staying like this until tomorrow night?”
“No, we can fuck however we want. After” a fuzzy hand rubs circles on Barclay’s abdomen, “I’ve cum in you enough times that I can feel it from out here.”
Barclay moans, tightening around him as his hips snap once more, already imagining being full and fucked out. Maybe it’ll take all night. He’ll be limp if it does, but right now nothing sounds better than melting into the bed while Joseph fucks his ass like it belongs to him. 
After forty-five minutes, his cock is aching, his mind holds only thoughts of how good it feels to do as Joseph tells him, and he’s been cum in so many times that wet, obscene sounds accompany the cryptids thrusts. Said sounds pale in comparison to Josephs’ voice, which is spinning increasingly impossible scenarios the longer they’re in bed. 
“I hope they take after you.” Joseph murmurs. 
Barclay just manages to turn his head, “Who?”
A muzzle playfully nudges his cheek, “Our kids.”
His heart seizes and shakes at the words; they both know that’s not what will happen. Joseph warned him he might say things like this, said he could tell him to knock it off if need be. 
“Maybe they’ll, ahnn, they’ll have big, beautiful brown eyes and bigger hearts, just like you.”
He doesn’t want him to stop. Every thrust hits deeper, every point where their skin meets buzzes brighter when he talks like this.
“H-hope at least one looks like you, blue eyes.”
A guttural whine, tingling heat as Joseph laps tenderly at the back of his neck, “We’ll just have to see, usually we’re born in threes so, soOH, oh I’m close, shitshit” 
“That’s it babe, fill me up, c’mon, c’mon I want it so bad, Joseph, baby, please.” 
There’s a howltrill as cum spurts into him, Joseph panting as he smooths his hand around Barclays side.
“There, that’s done it.”
Barclay whimpers as he pulls out, his mind and body pulled tight, certain that if he doesn’t cum soon he’ll propose marriage instead and that’ll be a fucking disaster. 
Joseph carefully rolls him over and unlocks the cage, “Do you want to cum?”
“More than anything. Oh!” he’s unprepared for Joseph to sink down on his cock, “oh fuck, yeah, wanna cum so bad babe please, I’ll be so good, be such a good mate if you just let me cum in y-fuuuck” A trio of sensations levels him as he climaxes; his vision whites out, his hips jerk more violently than they ever have before, and a line of cum drips down his leg. 
Somewhere far away, Joseph says, “I think we’ve earned a break.”
He nods, body limp as the cryptid climbs off him. Then he’s falling, spinning helplessly down in a pit of realizations. 
Joseph didn’t mean any of those things he said. His friend needed a mate and Barclay, lovesick fool he is, was eager for a chance to play pretend that he didn’t think about what would happen when the game ended. Even if Joseph keeps him here through tomorrow, the next time they meet at the Lodge he’ll act like nothing happened. 
Fuck, Barclay didn’t even get to kiss him during all this, and now he’ll never get the chance, never, nevernever-
“Shit, I should have put a towel or a spare blanket down. Now I’ll have to strip the bed before I can--Barclay? Oh, oh baby, what’s wrong?” A hand pets his face and he turns away from it, refusing to open his eyes. Joseph takes his hand instead, “it’s okay, I’m here, whatever you need I’ll-”
“Don’t. Don’t say that. You can’t give me what I need, it isn’t your fault I, I know I’m not really your partner and I, I…” he sniffles, wipes his palm under his eye. 
“Barclay, look at me please.”
Reluctantly, he opens his eyes just in time to see Joseph dip down and kiss him. It’s awkward, their mouths not made to fit together, but he savors it all the same because it’s Joseph, his Joseph, kissing him like he hoped he would. 
“My heat can make me say some ridiculous things. What it can’t do is make me feel affection where none exists. In fact, the reason I wasn’t able to keep my disguise on yesterday is because being near you meant being near the mate I wanted most in the world. I, um, suspected you might share my feelings, but I didn’t want our first interaction as boyfriend to be me asking if you wanted to spend a day or so with me while I was in a sex haze. But then you offered to help, and I wanted it so badly that I barreled ahead without making sure you understood that this was me declaring my feelings. I’m sorry.”
Barclay climbs into his lap, not caring about the mess he makes in the process. The cryptid laughs, hugs him close.
“I, I shoulda said something sooner too. Not that I regret how we spent our first date.” He kisses Josephs chin.
“Me neither, though I don’t think it quite counts.” He rubs their foreheads together, “can your boyfriend take you out to dinner on Friday?”
Barclay grins, looks into loving, blue eyes, “Yeah, he can.”
17 notes · View notes
adabofblessings · 4 years
Note
Au where the kids, June and Fowler aren't exactly human, but since they are like only friendly humans the autobots see daily and the "humans" are trying to keep their own identities hidden no one notices. (Raf is centuries old vampire, Miko is a demon hunter with demonic blood, Jack and June are werewolves and Fowler is a shape shifting alien)
Okay, yes, i love this type of idea but I would definitely use different mythical creatures in each of the character's to match their personalities!
I searched some mythicals from each of the children's culture and region from them and Here's my idea:
Miko
I would think she would be a Kitsune. They're foxes with one or more tails the older and wiser they get. they have the ability to change into human from as well. They tend to be loyal, faithful and can be a friend, but rather mischievous. Definitely think that Miko is loyal and mischievous. Think about it: her loyalty stayed with Bulkhead when he was in rehabilitation. And lets not forget that she runs her little legs towards that groundbridge whenever she gets the chance at it.
Appearance wise when she is in fox form is sleek black a hint of streak of silver trailing from her tail and fades into a light gray at the tips of her tail (not very accurate with the folklore but why not?) Her human from takes after her character in TFP. She still has the spunky personality everyone knows.
One thing I wanna headcannon in all three the children is that they are older than they look like. Lets say that Miko is about 163 years old. Shes still a 'baby' in her mythical origin, but she surpassed the 100 mark, so shes able to get more tails after turning hundred. She now has two tails and they're the most gorgeous tails.
Though she is young, she has more knowledge than adult humans. But she gets bored easily so she just hangs around school most of the time, even though she rarely does the homework. Both her and Jack known each other for quite some time, only because they are both active at night before they met the elusive vampire, Raf.
She fly, which is a natural joy for her cause she likes going fast. However, her biggest flaw is not forming into her human form correctly. She often has to hide her tail or ears if they don't disappear when transforming into a human. She tries go stay hidden but some people had caught her transforming.
Not normal and it clearly shows. Is frequently made fun of by humans for being weird. If only they knew....
Jack
Jack and his mother are the typical werewolves. They are highly close and often roam the nights most of the time. Though, werewolves they are not your average kind of werewolves. They could transform into regular old wolves anytime, but rather than being vicious, they are guardians of those who are lost souls.
Basically, June was the guardian before her son will take her place. They are not immortal but they live much more than an average human lifespan. Probably 3 thousand years of age before they die.
Jack the deadly silent person who prefers the natural quietness. Due to his wolf nature, his and his mom's eyes are strikingly blue and their fur coats are as black as coals, often a advantage during the night, just as his hair. He's very mysterious and very, very few people know his secret and that's only his mom, Agent Fowler and his friends, raf and Miko, since they're mythical beings as well. Hes also a baby and is only a few years older than Miko. 165 perhaps.
He has fast regeneration healing, speed like the wind, super strength and a super intellectual with damn good eyesight.
But one thing he always has trouble is eating. Normal people can basically eat anything human goods, but his diet consists of mostly raw meat products. He can't have chocolate so hes limited to his choices due to his diet.
Tries to act normal but just gives off spoopy and mysterious vibes.
However, hes very relaxed when around Miko and Raf.
Raf
Rafael would definitely be a vampire. He's quiet, secluding and genuinely a very odd person. He has a pale-like skin and the deepest red-cognac eyes with a light shade of black under his eyes, as if he never sleeps. Honestly, it just looks like he hasn't slept in years.
He doesn't smile with a toothy grin due to his fangs unless hes around Miko or Jack. He wears proactive clothing from the sun and tries his best to act normal...even though everyone sees him as a dark-fiery red head who looks kinda emo. As most vampires they live for a long time! Even though he is centuries years old, hes the youngest of the pack in Vampire lifespan. An infant most likely XD.
Very, very intelligent and can transform into a bat if he chooses too. However, his eyesight is poor due to an attack from someone finding out his identity, so he now has to wear glasses and be very cautious as to who sees him in his true nature.
He can’t eat anything but suck blood and it becomes a very concerning for the teachers upon seeing him eat nothing at lunch. The good news is that he can drink goat’s blood, the bad news is that he looks demonic when it comes to sucking the life out of a poor goat. He hates himself of how he has to live like this, but life is life and he wishes it so bad he can be  a normal kid. 
He’s very blessed to have friends like Miko and Jack who encourage him and make him feel better about himself. They share each other flaws and try to solve their problems, as well as dreaming to be normal teenagers.
All three of them wishes to have a sense of normalcy in their mythical lives, but they were lucky they met and had things in common. Soon enough, another group of unique creatures came upon earth and they start to realize that...maybe they’re not alone after all. Unfortunately, they are still too afraid to reveal their true identities to these strangers, so they stay low and act like normal people, which is very easy because the Autobots have no clue on how organics act.
With them, they feel like normal people. Not because they were different like them, but because the Autobots understood what its like to be different. They shard something common, even if the Autobots don’t know  Miko, Jack or Raf’s true selves. 
But I mean...eventually The Autobots  will find out.
82 notes · View notes
Text
Undertale In Writing: Page 2
You feel as though years have passed while you stood there, staring at the flowers. Though it's only been one heavy moment.
You take a deep breath and kneel down to pluck a flower from the ground. You tuck it behind your ear. You stand and turn to gaze into the darkness. Something warm fills your chest, not entirely unlike when Flowey revealed your SOUL. Just to be sure, you look down. There's no glowing, only calm... fullness. Stubbornness. DETERMINATION.
You felt something like this when you woke up before, but it was uncertain, confused. Now, it's fully taken root. You turn and begin to follow the path you took previously. Not like there was any other path.
Flowey appears again in a blink of light. You take note this time. He seems to be glowing. It's magic. All magic has a slight glow, and all monsters have magic. I can't think of any flowers down here that glow like a monster, though; echo flowers glow, but those are bioluminescent. And he doesn't smell like a normal flower.
The familiar face is still for a moment, then he breaks into a grin. “Howdy! I'm Flowey! Flowey the flower! Hee hee hee...” He tilts his head slightly, humor in his voice now. “Why'd you make me introduce myself? It's rude to act like you don't know who I am. Someone ought to teach you proper manners.”
You frown, because you're still not sure what happened. He killed you, didn't he? Was he the reason you were placed back at the start? I feel like it's more than that, but how come he remembers you?
No time to dwell on it. The golden flower begins following the same script as before. He opens the battle stage, refers to your heart. “That's your SOUL,” he says, as if you hadn't heard this before. He introduces LOVE, and he pulls out his bullets. “Down here, LOVE is shared through... little white... 'friendliness pellets.'”
You frown. Why is he telling you all this again? You know it, and he knows that you know it, and he should see from your expression that you know he knows you know it. Your lips purse. You want to say something, but you can't bring yourself to speak in this moment. The energy required is currently being used to prepare for what comes next.
“Catch as many as you can!”
You jump the side. The bullets dart by you and dissipate in the air a few feet back.
Flowey's expression changes. He holds onto the smile, but now it's challenging. Almost taunting. “Hey, buddy, you missed them. Let's try again, okay?”
You ready yourself, mind racing over how you might get out of this. Maybe you can outlast him?
The bullets shoot into you, and this time you can hardly react. They make contact. Your heart pulses, your feet slide back an inch, there are holes in your sweater and blood and bruises and it hurts.
But you're not in pieces. The wounds are shallow. You try to stand tall in defiance, but there's a pain in your shoulder that makes you wince, and you realize that you're very weak.
Flowey laughs. His face contorts into an evil smile that frankly does not belong in 3D space. “You idiot,” he cackles.
Your mouth opens in protest; a sound comes out—a soft, “I'm not—!” but you have to clamp it shut. Your face reddens.
Flowey continues. His voice is different. Somehow, he's made it sound like he's speaking through a crackly intercom. He says, “In this world, it's kill or BE killed. Why would ANYONE pass up an opportunity like this?”
A chill runs down your spine. This flower... isn't a monster. Monsters aren't like this. Monsters aren't evil.
“DIE!”
A ring of bullets form around you and come flying at your tiny torso. All you can do is yelp and curl into yourself. You're going to die again. You're going to hurt again. He's going to tear you apart.
There's a crackling sound, and a fwoosh. You glance up. A ball of white-hot fire hits the flower in the back of the head, and his roots are torn from the ground as he flies off into the darkness with a small “eep.”
Suddenly, you're alone. It's dark. You're confused. Disoriented.
Annoyance floods your brain. You'll probably be nonverbal all day now.
You push yourself to your feet, flinching when a shallow cut on your stomach pulls sideways. The battle stage is still there, but you can't feel Flowey's presence anymore. Something else looms from where the flame originated. Fiery red eyes bore into you from the darkness. A shape emerges, tall and fuzzy. A pair of small, sharp horns curl up from the top of a long-eared head. A snout exhales with annoyance.
You see the monster's dull claws at eye-height. The sleeves of a strangely familiar robe fall over one paw as it's drawn to the monster's hip.
“What a terrible creature,” she scolds, “torturing such a poor, innocent youth.”
Her voice is gentle. Familiar. Comforting. Motherly. You tilt your head again to look into her eyes, and she bends down to bring herself on your level. Now that you see her face head on, she doesn't look scary anymore. Her ears are soft and floppy, her horns small, her smile friendly, her eyes kind. She looks like a concerned goat mom, if goats were... What's the word..? Anthromorphic?
“Do not be afraid, my child,” she says softly. “I am Toriel, caretaker of The Ruins. I pass through this place every day to see if anyone has fallen down.” She pauses, and you realize that the battle stage is gone. There's color in the world again, and your heart is in your chest where it belongs.
Toriel smiles and stands suddenly. “You are the first human to come here in a long time.” Her robe flows loosely as she reaches down with one paw. “Come! I will guide you through the catacombs.”
You don't take her paw. Toriel isn't fazed by this. She turns ninety degrees and gestures into the darkness. “This way.”
Page 1 — Page 3
 [End page]
We made this blog almost two years ago and never followed up, so here’s page 2. We’ll try to continue it indefinitely, even if it takes a while. It’s still very much something we’re interested in.
Rules:
This is an interactive Undertale adaptation, not an AU. All actions taken must fit into the game. Obviously I’m taking little liberties with the reset system, but nothing is changing. If you want your response to be included, it shouldn’t change the plot. It’s about informing a player character’s decisions and, to an extent, Frisk’s personality.
You don’t need to follow some kind of format or command system. Your response can be in a comment, a reblog, a reblog of another’s reblog, a comment continuing another’s comment… It can short or long. It can be a suggestion or a narration.
The readers, together, are the player character.
Some time will pass, and we will take all responses as a vote. Common actions will become “canon,” and the story will continue. Influential commenters will be tagged, and anything we directly quote will have credit immediately after the section.
Commenters last round: @thesuperduckling24​, @finallycrawledoutfromundermyrock​, @thepotatoreader, and @arireblogthat​
If threads form of various players writing out their own alternate timeline, that’s fine too! There are no restrictions in how you respond. No need to limit yourself to what you think I’ll write down.
Headcanons that we’re using to include as much flavor from the game as possible:
We’re running with the Chara as narrator interpretation, because the tone of the narration is a major part of the experience. It may come out more in the future, but we’ll never name them. We will also adhere to the canon that their personality going forward is influenced by the player character’s decisions.
The one thing we’ve decided about Frisk up front is that they are semi-verbal autistic. Nothing extra will be inserted; it’s just a framework we’re using because it’s a consistent guide to explain some very video-gamey behavior -- like the sparse implied dialogue, the fixation on smells, and apparent disregard for low HP. (We’re autistic ourselves and will be pulling from our experiences.)
I’m adding these under each page so that you can use these narrative frames if you want. Happy writing.
4 notes · View notes
livewireprojects · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
So I was working on a pic for day 16 but I was working on it after work so didn’t have much time before 5pm to get pics.(I need a scanner one of these days) At some point I just looked at how dark it was getting in the room I take pics in & gave up. I also don’t know what to do for day 17, I want to guess something like Future Foundation or characters being in the simulation from DR2 due to the name of the project but I dunno. I might do something but the theme future is coming up so I’ll likely save it for that.
I’m rambling & kind of feel bad for my posts for day 15 So day 16 was alternate universes & I really enjoy AUs though a large amount of the ones I like are crossover plots. Most of the pics aren’t crossover based & are largely just based on past RPs. I made a bunch of pics & didn’t want to spam with posts for each so I tried to put as many as I could together.
The first three pics are based on a thing I call Monster Community AU thing, pretty much characters are secretly some kind of creature(witch, alien, merpeople, harpies, etc) living among humans but sometimes do things in secret areas other monsters hanging out at like a community of monsters.
The two scenes here are from different mermaid RPs, both from my Monster Community AU stuff again. Both pics involve RP plots that were DR1 happened, DR2 characters were trying to survive the aftermath of the world going mad(pretty much surviving in the destroyed city until finding somewhere or something) & some other stuff I’m going to leave out due to rambling. Just know this is technically a simplified version of the series post-DR1(if that makes sense? probably not) that was used because I keep doing shit in RPs.
The one to the left is from a plot were the survivors find a cave they end up staying the night in only to decided to check further & find themselves in a place other monsters are living in. For some reason Makoto is a grey eyeless big mouth monster, I think I was obsessed with a design I saw on Tumblr but can't find anymore. Byakuya is an octopus merperson because for some reason I imagine he'd be on if he was a merman. The second one is vampire Byakuya is living in a mansion his family had by the sea on a cliff area that leads to the beach. He ends up learning Makoto is a merperson(whose parents tried to keep him from learning about other creatures for safety) & expecting their kids. Makoto is a species of merperson that make nests in the sand when they have kids so Makoto had to stay in the water until the babies could swim by themselves. Byakuya will probably have some special pools setup in the house for the twins since they'll be to young to go into human form after the being old enough to swim.(It'll only be a couple months) At the moment Makoto is in a cave inside the cliff that leads to the ocean, some how the inside of Byakuya's mansion has a secret stairway leading down here. Makoto can't leave the water because his nest is here & his merperson instincts don't want him to leave until the babies hatch & are old enough to swim. Due to Makoto's parents hiding his & Komaru's mermaid/creature side Makoto didn't think much on the fact he was a merperson until he got pregnant & his instincts demanded he make a nest... That's also how Byakuya learned his family had a secret area of the mansion & proceeded lug a futon mattress/blanket down there to be close to Makoto. I didn't think much about it at the time but I guess something lead to his parents getting protective & scared if someone knew they were merpeople, then again there's a Japanese myth about eating mermaids/some kind of fish people would cause immortality. I almost forgot this but Byakuya hung up a net & decorations so the babies when down in the cave don’t swim into the sea.
Tumblr media
This one is based on an RP were Byakuya is a werewolf while Makoto is a harpy. DR1 happened, Byakuya & Makoto had a relationship but went their separate ways to find their families(see if there’s hope of them still being out there) while working on getting their lives together.(Since with the despair event they likely need to recover/figure out what to do now)
Byakuya at some point is house sitting for Hinata & Komaeda(originally it was his vacation cabin in the woods but something changed forget why) when he ends up having to help a harpy who lost their nest because a tree landed on it. He took the harpy in because they didn’t have anywhere to go & the crash broke one of their wings. He was to tired to think much about figuring out who the harpy was after patching them up because he was tired.
Byakuya ends up learning in the morning that the harpy is Makoto & pregnant. Byakuya reassured Makoto knew he was safe now & he(Byakuya) isn’t going anywhere. Byakuya later learned Makoto found his family but someone attacked & ditched him in the woods while injuring his eye. After that Byakuya helps Makoto recover & they eventually move to his vacation house when Hinata & Komaeda come home. Byakuya has a nursery for their eventual kids & Makoto ended up staying in the nursery sitting on the egg Ichigo was in when he had the twins. Len kept barking when he found her until she finally hatched.
Here’s Makoto perched on Hinata’s couch singing a bird tune as Byakuya listens, sometimes the blond will sometimes whistle which makes Makoto squeal in delight because it sounds like Byakuya trying to mimic a bird. Makoto is meant to be a House Martin harpy because the bird is cute & has fuzzy feet. Makoto’s hood/cape is just his hoodie tied to his neck, he can slightly still see out of the injured eye but without something to protect it things seem to bright during the day through that eye.
Tumblr media
This was the pic that lead to not posting anything the other day, as you can tell I made more pics right after managing to finish it. This pic is once again based on an RP(well two of them), for some reason I really liked doing this plot. The AU is pretty much everyone lives in a world of animal centaurs(in Kazuichi's case he's a shark merperson) & for some reason this is before modern technology exists. Everyone lives in caves that have been carved into homes with some having multiple rooms, they have furniture made from leftover stone, wood, some other stuff & clothes made out of normal animal skin like they're in Brother Bear or something. Given the state the world is currently at they seal off the entrances to their caves in the winter after making sure to have enough food to last it.(There's some that have the ability to hibernate luckily) I have absolutely no idea why I enjoy this so much. So Byakuya is a wolf(lol blond wolf fur) & Makoto is a pygmy goat(I made him a little bigger because again awkward size) but for the first RP I kept switching the species(from pudu deer to pygmy goat) because I was obsessed with those animals at the time. It ended with S having Gundam call Makoto a goat/deer hybrid so he's a deer goat in the first RP.(I didn't switch it often but kept talking about confusion) In the second RP Makoto stayed a pygmy goat for the entire RP. Len is a wolf centaur & Ichigo is a goat centaur, Byakuya & Makoto had other kids but they're preexisting characters(Komaru & Chiaki for some reason) & I'm mostly focusing on these characters.(I don't actually know what I was getting at) The twins are a couple days old, since Ichigo is a pygmy goat she's already active. Byakuya is laying down so she won't get hurt, Ichigo & Makoto's goat side makes them enjoy climbing things so the little baby is climbing on daddy. Len's eyes & ears haven't opened just yet so he's kept safe in a portable cradle thing since he's to small to play with his little sister right now.(Makoto will retuck him in in a moment) Makoto has a poncho thing because he has trouble keeping warm which luckily his kids didn't inherit. Also Byakuya is pretty strong so he can take his daughter & his mate trying to climb on him especially when Makoto is pregnant. It's ok & doesn't bother him in fact it's kind of cute especially since sometimes after that Ichigo will do a little jitter dance that baby goats some times do.(He'd also whether they climb on him or a stool thing than try to climb the side of their home or something bigger due to worrying about the two hurting themselves.
Byakuya & Makoto have slightly long hair because it's hard for them to cut their hair with a dagger Byakuya worked on for hair cutting. Byakuya is hoping to eventually trade something for a mirror some traveling trader visits, maybe see if someone in the pack can help with cutting hair not that it matter much.
Go check out @naegamimonth​
18 notes · View notes
Text
Some Fairytale Bliss AKA: Deflowering the Deckhand
Thanks @kmomof4 for betaing and to everyone in the CSSNS discord for help with the title/puns
Set during Operation Mongoose: Part 2. Emma decides to teach the shy deckhand a thing or two about swordplay. Mostly just smut. 
@snowbellewells because you asked :)
On Ao3
Trigger Warning: Brief mention of a past dub-con/underage loss of virginity. Everything that happens in this fic is fully consensual
-/-
Emma sits in the captain’s quarters, thrown by how familiar and different it somehow feels all at once. She’s been here so many times, has slept in that bed, sat on that desk trying to distract Killian from whatever he was writing in his journal. The room is the same as it always is but somehow just not quite right. She doesn’t know if it’s because the Author and Gold have never been in this cabin before, and had had to make it up based on what they imagined and what was in the original story book, or if it’s because in this reality, Blackbeard is the captain of the Jolly Roger. 
So many things are the same, the wood, the furniture, the deep tapestries and rugs that adorn the floor and the walls, even the comforter on the bed beneath her is right, the same silky feel under her fingers. But the objects on the desk, the little bits of treasure that Killian had collected throughout his life and cared enough about to decorate his space with are missing. As is his brother’s sextant. And his books. It’s eerie and wrong to look at that empty shelf where both have always sat. 
She shivers. She needs to get them back to their world, get Killian back to who he is, her parents too. That’s been harder than anything, knowing that her parents are evil in this realm, that they’re trying to kill Henry, that they’ll certainly kill her if they can. Everyone here is so different. But especially Killian. More than anything Killian. This version of him, he’s so shy, so sweet and so nervous, nothing of his usual swagger and confidence remaining. And the goat’s milk. Don’t get her started on the goat’s milk. 
A smile pulls at her lip as she remembers the expression on his face when she’d defeated Lily, so excited, so anxious, but proud - of her. She remembers how he’d looked when she’d bumped into him in the tower too. He’d been dazed, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as he looked at her with no recognition but with the same awe, the same longing that her Killian so often looked at her with. 
The difference this time was that while he looked at her as though she was the most beautiful woman in the world, he also looked at her as though she were the only, the first woman he’d ever held in his arms. 
But she’d seen that desire too, that longing as he’d held her against him, but she could tell he didn’t know what to do with it, it had made him flustered and awkward as he pulled away to shake her hand, but not before she felt the hardness pressing against her. 
He’d jumped back like she’d burned him, no quip or comment or flirtation, not even a wandering hand. He was a deer in the headlights, panicked and confused and so nervous. It had been confusing, but endearing too. 
There’s a knock on the door and Emma looks up, asks who’s there, which feels ridiculous because there are only two other people on the ship, both of whom are welcome in the room with her. 
“It’s Killian,” his voice answers, muffled through the door. “I’ve, um, I’ve found you some clothes,” he stutters. 
“Come in.”
The door creaks open slowly, hesitantly, and Killian steps through, shoulders hunched and head hanging down, looking at the floor as he cradles some pants and a shirt neatly folded against his chest. 
“You don’t have to ask to come into your own cabin, you know,” she tells him and he flushes, his hand coming to scratch behind his ear in a way that’s so familiar it makes her heart ache a little. She’ll get him back, she tells herself. 
“Perhaps,” he starts slowly, “in your world this is my cabin. But it is certainly not in this one.” He clears his throat, holding the clothes out to her and she takes them from him, their fingers brushing as she does. He pulls his hand back quickly as his cheeks flame. 
“Thank you,” she tells him, trying to catch his eye but he won’t look at her. She steps past him, locking the door so that Henry won’t come down and walk in on her changing - that boy doesn’t need any more traumatic teenager memories, Storybrooke does just fine in providing him enough of those. He’s up at the helm, sailing them back to the Enchanted Forest, but it’s better to be careful. 
She sets the clothes down on the bed and starts to undress, working at the awkward, cumbersome buttons and fastenings of this land’s fashion. She misses her jeans. She hears a startled sound and looks up to see Killian staring at her, looking equal parts stunned and then ashamed when he meets her eye. He stumbles over his words, saying that he’ll leave her to get changed.
“You don’t have to go,” she tells him, raising a brow and he freezes. He looks like he very much wants to stay, but also like he very much wants to run out of here, leaving a Killian shaped hole in the door. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” she says casually. Or touched, or kissed or licked, her thoughts supply. 
He clears his throat, looks back down at the floor. “I’m fairly certain I’d remember if I had,” he says and she smiles a little. Look at him, she thinks, that was almost flirting, almost a compliment. She continues undressing and he doesn’t leave but continues to stare at the floor. 
“What’s the matter?” she asks, trying for gentle but maybe coming off a bit more annoyed than she means to. She’s basically told him that she doesn’t mind him watching her undress but he hasn’t made a single innuendo, hasn’t tried to touch her or even look at her. Instead he’s standing there looking scared and unsure of himself. 
“It’s, um, it’s not appropriate,” he says. “For me to look at you in a state of undress.” She hears him mumble something about propriety that she barely catches but it's the next thing he mumbles that makes her stop. She barely hears it, barely makes it out but she knows she heard the words ‘not worthy’ fall from his lips, a self-deprecating frown crossing his brow. 
“Killian,” she says, dropping her hands from the fastenings. “Look at me.” 
He keeps his gaze firmly fixed on the wood below his feet for another moment and she waits, waits until slowly, he raises his eyes to hers, focused on her face and not the buttons she’s managed to unlatch at her breast. She holds his gaze and resumes her task. His eyes flicker down quickly to where the bodice of her dress is open and his eyes widen, his chest rising and falling with heavy, shaky breaths. 
She wonders then, not for the first time, exactly what backstory this version of him was given. He’s a deckhand, she knows that, and he’s allergic to rum and apparently a coward based on what Henry told her Blackbeard said. But as she thinks about the way he’s looking at her now, how he’d looked at her in the tower, had struggled to touch her, to even compliment her… holy shit. Was he a virgin? Did Gold make Captain Hook - the man who had seduced his wife away, made her fall in love with him - too afraid of speaking to women to ever have had one? 
“Killian,” she asks again, and he meets her eyes. “Have you ever seen a naked woman before?” He goes red again, a bashful, pained expression crossing his face as he looks down and shakes his head slowly.
“Only the mermaids,” he says quietly. “In Neverland,” he specifies. “And they were terrifying.” Emma remembers Killian using a wholly different word to describe the mermaids. 
She continues undressing, not asking him to look again, not wanting to force him into anything or make him any more uncomfortable than he already is. But he doesn’t leave and slowly, his eyes raise back up to her, following the movements of her hands as she sheds the outer layers of her dress until she’s left in only her corset and shift. 
She can see that he wants to look, to touch, but he’s afraid. Whether of not knowing how, of not being allowed to, she’s unsure, maybe both. But she can see the desire in his eyes, the pale blue swallowed by black, his lips parted, his breath uneven. She can even make out the tightening in his leather pants. But he still doesn’t move. Wow, Killian Jones, the virgin. 
She remembers Killian telling her about his first time. He was too young. She remembers that most of all. The men on Silver’s ship had brought him to a tavern and bought him a woman. He’d been nervous the whole time, awkward and unsure, could hear the men laughing and shouting crude things through the door. It had lasted two seconds and it was the worst two seconds of his life. It was awful. Neither he nor the woman had enjoyed it. 
She looks at him now, and she feels as though she’s looking at a younger version of him, one who’s unsure of himself, shy and sweet but still kind and brave despite what he thinks of himself. And the way he’s looking at her now, he may not be lusting after her the way Killian usually does, with desire and want and a clear intent of what he plans to do to her evident in his eyes… but he’s looking at her like she’s the freaking sun. Like he can’t look directly at her despite wanting to. There’s desire there and want but no plan, no idea what to do. And so he shrinks away. 
Emma bites her lip as she looks him over from head to toe. Yeah, she thinks, recognizing the ridiculousness of it all, she’s going to deflower Killian Jones. She’s going to give him a proper first time, find a way to erase the doubt and the self-loathing in his eyes and make him see himself for who he really is. 
Henry is sure to be above deck for another few hours sailing. She told him that she was going to change and then she was going to teach Killian swordplay - she smirks - so she’s not worried about any interruptions. Killian is still looking at her, looking at her as though she’s the most awe-inspiring thing he’s ever seen and she’s still fully clothed by her world’s standards. 
“Will you help me?” she asks, gesturing at the laces of her corset that are tied tightly behind her. She expects him to be flustered, to cough and stutter and shy away but instead he swallows, eyes raking over her. He clears his throat and nods, stepping forward. 
She turns around and he only hesitates for a moment as she gathers her hair and lifts it over her shoulder, his breath hitching, before he sets to work. He unlaces them painfully slowly, the sound of the string pulling through the loops the only sound in the room apart from their heavy breathing. It’s agony, a slow build up of tension as she feels his breath on her neck, his fingers warm where they touch her through the material of her shift and she wonders for a moment who exactly is supposed to be the blushing virgin right now. 
He finally gets all the laces undone and the corset falls to the floor. He hovers another moment and then steps back so she turns to face him. He casts his eyes to the floor again and she tells him it’s okay. He can look if he wants. His eyes drag slowly back up her shape, his breathing ragged again, though whether more from desire or nerves she doesn’t know. 
She smiles, knowing she can’t tease him, that this version of him couldn’t take it, no matter how much her Killian enjoys a challenge and a little word play. No, she’ll be sweet with him, with this man who is looking at her with reverence and awe. She pulls the laces of her shift free and it slowly slides to the floor with her dress. 
She’s naked now, standing before him fully clothed and the way he’s looking at her is causing goosebumps to rise on her skin, her nipples to tighten and the beginnings of an ache to stir between her legs. She’s never been someone’s first before but she’s going to treat it like the honour it is. Will take more care with him than Neal did with her, than that woman did with Killian. 
She sees his throat bob and his brow pull up as he looks at her. He looks at her like it physically hurts to do so, his hand clenching at his side, his erection evident in his leathers. It gives her confidence, how clearly he wants her. She steps forward and he stiffens, eyes snapping up to her face. 
“Do you want to touch me?” she asks. He doesn’t speak but he swallows again and nods. She smiles softly, takes his hand in hers and lifts it to her breast. She watches his face, the desire and the uncertainty and even the curiosity playing across it. He touches her for just a second, instinct taking over and she gasps, arching against his hand just a little. She knows that hand so well, knows what it can do, knows how it feels on every inch of her. 
He drops his hand, stepping back. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, worry and fear in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have -” 
She takes his hand again to stop him leaving, cuts off his apology. “It’s okay,” she tells him. “I liked it.”
His eyes go wide, shock and disbelief on his features. She lets his hand go, waits for him to make the next move. He steps towards her again, his hand raised between them, not quite sure of himself but a little more confident than he’d been a moment ago. But he’s still not touching her and she can tell he wants to say something, wants to ask her something. She waits until he’s ready. 
“Can I -” he starts, hesitates. Always hesitating. “May I kiss you?” he asks.  His voice is so low it’s practically a whisper, like he’s ashamed to ask. Her heart tightens. She wants to grab him and kiss the ever living hell out of him but she knows she can’t. This time, he really couldn’t handle it. 
He’s not looking at her so she says “yes.” He looks at her with both shock and relief, clearly having expected rejection. He steps forward again and she’s almost proud of him, thrilled to see he’s gaining confidence. He raises his hand to her cheek, brushes it softly with shaky fingers before curling into her hair and cupping her face. He steps forward again, into her space so that she can feel the heat of him, can feel his breath on her face, his forehead all but resting against hers and her body is screaming at her to just kiss him, but he pauses. 
“I don’t… I’ve never…” he starts and she can feel his resolve weakening, fears that he’s going to pull away. She knows she’ll have to take the lead with most things tonight. But she wants him to have this. Wants him to initiate this moment, to take what he wants and know that he did. She steps forward, their lips not quite brushing and tilts her head, hand on his chest, waiting for him to close the distance between them.
Yes! She thinks when he does. There’s a lack of finesse to the kiss, a lack of skill, or really any movement at all. He simply presses his lips to hers, inhales deeply and basks in the feel of her against him for a moment. 
He pulls away after a second and Emma’s worried that he’s going to stop, that he’ll let his self-doubt get the best of him and change his mind so she doesn’t give him the chance, leaning back in and kissing him again. It’s a little awkward as - after his initial shocked ‘oomph’ - he tries to figure out how to move his mouth over hers. She can feel his heart racing under her palm. 
But he’s a quick study, copying her movements at first and then slowly letting instinct take over until slowly he relaxes, letting himself fall into it. And he’s good at it. Maybe not as good as her Killian, but well on his way, enough that she can feel her blood heating and her body calling to him and she presses into him. 
He gasps and she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into his mouth. And his reaction is amazing. For a second, he stops being the scared deckhand and he reaches for her, pulling her to him, tilting her head back so he can lick into her mouth, grinding against her hips, his hand all over. Emma gets lost in it, the feel of him pressed against her, his mouth on hers, his tongue and lips and teeth exploring and tasting and devouring and she needs more. 
She reaches for the buttons of his vest, undoes one, and he freezes, pulling back suddenly. She lets him but doesn’t allow him to move far, bringing her hand to his cheek. She spooked him, she realises, snapped him out of whatever daze of lust he’d been in and brought back all the doubt he has in himself. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” she promises. “We don’t have to do anything else if you don’t want to. We can just keep doing this.” He looks at her and relaxes a little but he doesn’t seem to want to stop, leaning into her unwittingly. “But,” she starts tentatively. “I want to touch you too… if that’s alright.” He’s hesitant for another moment before he presses his forehead to hers and nods, a little eagerly too, which is sweet considering how unsure he is. 
She kisses him again, soothing him, letting him relax before she undoes the buttons of his vest, slowly, giving him time to change his mind, and then moves on to his shirt. He’s shaking when she’s done and she slides her hands over the sliver of revealed skin and hair. He gasps into her mouth again, stomach muscles jumping under her touch. She looks at him as she pushes the material from his shoulders, watching for any hint of discomfort or uncertainty but instead he just looks like he wants. He might not know what he wants but she’s excited for him to find out.
The shirt falls to the floor and she slides her fingers back up his arms, his own coming to her hip and she fiddles with the straps of his brace, not sure what he’d prefer. Killian takes it off sometimes, leaves it on others, it depends on how much of a rush they’re in really. But the Killian in front of her looks unsure, he hesitates. 
“It’s - It’s not pretty,” he tells her. 
“We can leave it on, if you want.” She doesn’t tell him that she’s seen it because she knows that doesn’t matter. What matters is that this version of him hasn’t shown it to her and she leaves that his decision to make. After a moment, he raises his hands to the straps and slowly unlatches them, fiddling with the complicated bits and then sliding it off his arm. 
Emma trails her fingers down to his wrist and he looks away, at the wall and then at the floor, his breath catching when she touches the scars. There’s that self-loathing again. She raises his arm to her lips, places a kiss to the scars there and his eyes snap to hers. The way he looks at her makes her wonder if he’s ever been shown a moment of kindness in his life. 
She’s actually caught off guard when he kisses her again, a little forcefully, his hand finding its way to her hair and fisting in it, tilting her head and pushing his tongue into her mouth with a passion and a certainty that makes her forget which Killian she’s with. His wrist comes around her hips, pulling her to him as she runs her hands over his chest, his back, his sides until he pulls back with a gasp. 
“Can I touch you again?” he asks, strained but without the hesitation from before.
“Yes,” she breathes. “You don’t have to ask.” 
He’s still hesitant when he brings his hand to her breast but she’s pretty sure it’s more about not knowing what to do than not believing he can or should. She’s already worked up and the heat of his skin on hers makes her whimper and he grows bolder, his touch becoming more insistent, more intent, playing with her nipple and sliding down the skin of her stomach, making it flutter under his fingers. 
His palm slides around to her back so he can pull her in closer again, covering her mouth with his and she groans, rolls her hips against his. A needy desperate sound escapes him as his hand slips lower, grabbing hold of her ass and pulling her harder against the ridge in his pants. 
She takes hold of his hips, turning him and leading him towards the bed at the back of the room. She pushes down on his shoulders, making him sit and smiles at the way he reaches for her with hand and wrist and lips when she pulls back. She kneels down in front of him, reaching for the laces of his leathers and he doesn’t stop her but he looks more nervous than he has yet. 
She finishes unlacing him and then reaches down to pull his boots off one at a time. He looks at her again in that way that breaks her heart, like he’s surprised by her kindness, by care. She reaches for the waist of his pants and slides them down slowly, still giving him a chance to change his mind. He lifts his hips to help her pull them off. He’s watching her now, naked and awaiting judgement, so she smiles at him, letting her tongue peek out to lick at her bottom lip and watching the desire flash in his eyes before she straightens a little so she can kiss him. 
His hand comes to her hair again but falls to the sheets beside him when she trails her lips down his neck, across his collarbone and down his chest to his stomach, the amazing, desperate sounds he’s making spurring her on. She can tell he’s right on the edge already, that it will only take a second to bring him to his climax and she knows that that might disappoint him - especially if he’s inside of her when it happens. 
So she takes him in hand and he cries out, falling to his elbows before her. She pumps him once before deciding to really give him something to cry out about and takes him into her mouth. He only tries to protest, for the sake of her honour, for a second before she wraps her lips around him and he loses all sense of words or thoughts. He curses, a slew of swears she’s heard and some she hasn’t, some she’s pretty sure are in another language, as she runs her lips and tongue over him. 
It’s barely a minute before he comes in her mouth and when she looks up at him he looks so blissed out, so boneless that she wants to laugh. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t want him to take it the wrong way. She caresses him gently, stroking his cock and his thighs and his stomach as he comes back to himself. Once the ecstasy has faded from his features though, disappointment takes its place and she frowns, confused. 
“What’s wrong?” she asks, and he avoids looking at her again. 
“I just - I mean I was hoping to… I wanted to make you… as well.. I thought…”
She understands then. Understands that he thinks this is over and that he wanted to be with her completely but doesn’t feel right asking for more. She smiles at him. 
“There’s still time for that,” she says and he perks up just a little. “And now, it’ll last longer so you can really enjoy it,” she tells him. He bites his lip and scratches his ear. 
“And you,” he starts. “Will you enjoy it?” he asks and she smiles. Always so considerate, her Killian. 
“Yes,” she tells him. “If you help me.”
“How?” he demands quickly, eagerly and he blushes at her smile. “I mean, it seems like bad form to leave a woman unsatisfied. Especially after that,” he explains. She raises an eyebrow at him. Not quite as suave as he usually is but not bad. 
“I -” he starts again. “I want to please you,” he confesses, but holds her gaze even as his cheeks burn. Her heart melts a little at this shy, nervous man fighting against his own anxiety to tell her that he wants to make her feel good. She really lucked out with Killian Jones, didn’t she?”
“Slide over,” she tells him, standing. He makes room for her on the bed and she lies down next to him, he on his side and she on her back. She takes his hand in hers again, toys with his fingers for a moment, with the familiar rings there, before bringing it to her breast once more. He’s less hesitant this time, quicker to act as he touches her, repeating some of the same brushes and flicks and pulls from before but watching her, weighing the sounds she makes and repeating the touches that make her gasp or cry out. What a quick study, she muses as she pulls his lips to hers again. 
He kisses her eagerly, deeply and wantonly as he touches her. His fingers continue to play with her nipple, sliding over to tease the other and then returning to the first. Emma’s skin is on fire. She’s squirming a little beneath him, heat pooling between her legs at his surprisingly talented ministrations and she’s pretty sure she’s going to go insane before she feels his hand slide down, between her breasts, over her stomach.
Yes, she practically moans. Good for him, she thinks with a smirk. His fingers reach her sex and she opens her legs for him, lets him slide between them and explore. His breath catches and then he groans with desperation, deepening his kiss when he feels her wet and hot under his hand. It’s a bit experimental, still unsure as he gets his bearings and Emma gives him time to figure it out, knowing this is the first time he’s touched a woman so intimately. 
He finds her opening and slides a finger in and her hand tightens in his hair. He pulls back and then pushes back in and Emma cries out, breaking their kiss as her head falls back against the pillow. He watches her with hooded eyes and swollen lips. He does it again and she cants her hips up against his hand. 
He continues in a steady rhythm, slowly, adding a second finger and checking for her reaction. She reaches down and pauses his movements, brings his thumb to her clit and circles it slowly. He looks at where he’s touching her, focused, lips parted and breathing heavy as she shows him how she likes to be touched. He follows her instructions willingly, so eager to please her, to bring her pleasure and she lets him go, lets him continue on his own. 
His thumb circles her, slowly building her higher and once he’s found his rhythm he begins pumping his fingers again at the same time. She lets out a choked moan and suddenly, somehow, she’s writhing under this shy deckhand and he’s watching her, lust burning in his eyes as he sees what he’s doing to her. 
His eyes rake over her, take a moment to watch, mesmerized, as his fingers disappear inside of her again and again, and then focus on her breasts, her nipples hard and stiff as she pants under him. He leans down, taking one in his mouth and holy fucking shit. 
She grabs at his hair, holding him in place as he swirls his tongue over the bud, his fingers continuing to drive her closer to the edge. She can feel him getting into it, encouraged by the litany of sounds escaping her, almost more excited at the idea of getting her off than he was at the idea of getting off himself, and he picks up his pace. 
Holy shit, she thinks as she feels the coil tightening inside of her, feels the sparks licking at her belly. Is she going to come from this? From his first go at it?
She feels him press against her thigh, hard and hot and swollen and she remembers that this is supposed to be about him. She forces herself to pull back and feels a little guilty when he looks disappointed and worried. 
“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to - Did I do it wrong?”
“No,” she shakes her head. “Trust me, you did it very, very right,” she tells him, still panting. His chest puffs up a bit and she smiles. “I just - want you,” she tells him and desire and lust darken his eyes, even as they mingle with the nervousness. 
“Oh,” he breathes. “Okay.” 
She pushes him onto his back feeling the rise and fall of his chest and the pounding of his heart under it. She lifts one leg slowly over him so that she can straddle him and his hand and wrist come to rest on her hips. They’re shaking and she asks him if he’s sure because he looks so scared. 
“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she reminds him. “Or if you’re not ready.”
He shakes his head. “No, I want to,” he tells her. “I just… Gods, Emma, you’re so beautiful, and strong and brave and I’m -” 
“Beautiful,” she cuts him off. “Handsome. And kind, and sweet, and brave.” He’s going to protest so she leans over him and kisses him so that he can’t. 
She pulls back, kissing his neck again for a moment before she rises over him and takes him in her hand, lining him up with her entrance and sinking down over him. The sound he makes when her hips meet his isn’t one she’s ever heard him make before and also not one she thinks she’ll ever hear again, so she tries to remember it, the ecstasy and the wonder and the desperation. 
She gives him a moment, not moving, letting him enjoy the feeling of being inside her and watching him enjoy it. When he’s calmed a little, stopped whimpering softly with each breath, and his breathing is nearly back to normal, he looks at her and she waits. He nods, hand squeezing her hip and she starts moving. She goes slowly so that he can enjoy it and so that it’s not over too quickly. He may have come already but this is still his first time and she’s not expecting the kind of marathons they usually have. 
He lets her take control, going back and forth between watching her in awe and throwing his head back against the pillow. She enjoys both, likes the way his eyes rake over her, seeing how much he wants her, and liking the way the muscles in his neck stretch and tense as his jaw clenches and his mouth falls open. 
And the sounds he makes, god the sounds. Killian has always been vocal in bed, but it's usually words, praise and filth and encouragements. But these sounds, they’re raw and primal and desperate and she revels in them, each one shooting through her like a shock to her core. 
She debates bringing his hand to her clit again, but he’s so lost in his pleasure, his fingers digging into her hip so hard that she doesn’t think he could manage it right now. So she does it herself, touching herself and watching his face as she does. She so rarely gets to see him like this, he’s always been more of a giver than a taker but she loves the moments when he lets her worship him the way he always does her. 
He looks down at her hand between them, sees her fingers circling her clit and his lip pulls back over his teeth, desperate, needy breaths and gasps leaving him as it spurs him on, his hips rocking up into hers and she knows he’s close but she’s nearly there too. He’s holding out longer than she expected and she realises when she sees it in his eyes, when he brings a hand to her breast, rolls her nipple between his fingers that he’s trying to let her finish first. 
Always a gentleman, she muses. But between his hand on her and her fingers on her clit and the way he’s pulling her against him, pushing himself deeper, finding spots he shouldn’t be able to, it's not long before her back is bowing, hand falling to his chest, fisting at the hair there as she cries out. 
He sits up, wrapping his arms around her as she shakes, even as she continues to move over him and the change of angle sends another wave of pleasure through her. She sees his reaction when she clenches and flutters around him seconds before he cries out, burying his head in her neck and pulling her more tightly against him so that they’re flush from chest to hips. 
He’s shaking, trembling in her arms as his breath comes out in soft whimpers against her skin. She brushes her fingers through his damp hair, holding him tightly and turning her head to press kisses to his temple, his ear, his cheekbone, soothing him. 
When he stops shaking he pulls back but only enough so that he can cup her cheek and kiss her again, really kiss her. His lips slide over hers, tongue pushing past and licking into her mouth, panting against her as he nips and sucks at her lips. She’s dizzy by the time he finally breaks the kiss, presses his forehead to hers and closes his eyes, fingers still fisted in her hair.
“Thank you,” he says, low in his throat and she laughs. 
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” she assures him. 
“That was…” he pauses, searching for the right word. “Extraordinary.” She laughs softly and he lifts his face from hers, looks at her with wide eyes. “Was it… did you… enjoy it? I mean, it seemed like you did but-”
“I did,” she assures him. “A lot.” He looks at her with a slightly raised brow. “You were very good at it,” she tells him and can see the pride growing in his chest. 
“I understand now,” he says and she cocks her head. “Why the French call it the little death. Surely I must have touched a piece of heaven, held a goddess in my arms.” She wants to laugh but this is the most fluent, the most Killian-like he’s sounded since she met him and it warms her heart to hear him speak without self doubt or hesitation. 
“I felt… it felt like…” he looks at her. “Have we done this before?” he asks. “In your world?”
She nods. “Yes. Many, many times. And you’ll remember it soon.” 
“Can we do it again?” he asks eagerly and she laughs. 
“I think we’ll have to wait, unfortunately, until we get home. Henry is going to start wondering where we are.” 
He nods, a little disappointed but understanding. “Well then, I look forward to returning to your reality. One where I’m somehow, someone worthy of a heroine, a saviour like you.”
“Stop that,” she says, taking his face in her hands and kissing him. She caresses his cheeks with her thumbs. “You were a hero today. You risked your life to help Henry save me. You were brave and you were noble. No coward could have done that.” 
His breath catches but he doesn’t protest despite the embarrassment on his face. She kisses him again and she can tell he’s trying to hang on to her, hang on to the moment just a little longer as he follows her lips, his fingers trailing down her back and then down her arm as she slowly rises from the bed and begins getting dressed. 
“I love you,” she hears him whisper from the bed behind her and it's so low she knows he didn’t mean for her to hear it. She knows, of course she knows. But she lets him pretend she didn’t hear, lets him keep his secret, knows that when she does say it, she needs to say it to the real him. 
She wishes she could stay, that she could lay here in bed with him and hold him, that she didn’t have to get up and walk away, save the world as always. But she does. They have a curse to break and a family to save and a world to put right. Tomorrow, when this is over and done with, when this is hopefully over and done with, she’ll spend the entire day in bed with him, won't let him go until whatever the next crisis is forces her to leave his side. And she’ll tell him. She’ll tell him that she loves him. But that can wait until tomorrow. 
119 notes · View notes
Text
I’m Glad There is You
Bucky x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky has to go to an event at the museum honoring the Captain America crew. As he is the only one still on the record as being alive of the original group he is an honored guest, he brings you as his date. Post Endgame. Sam is Captain now.
A/N: ANOTHER INSPIRED BY VIC DAMONE’S ALBUM THAT TOWERING FEELING AREN’T Y’ALL SHOCKED?!?!?! In all seriousness though I’m obsessed with older music right now and keep relating it to fiCs so this is what happens. I needed a happy Bucky fic after writing so much angst so this is what I came up with. So Sinatra also sang this so, there’s that, but we’re going to give love to Vic’s ‘I’m Glad There is You.’
Vic Damone Facts: He was drafted and served in the army from 1951-1953. His father played guitar and mother played the piano. He recorded around 2,500 songs over the course of 54 years.
Warnings: Mentions of trauma, character deaths.
Word Count: 3,183
Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel, The Avengers, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, ‘I’m Glad There is You.”
“Doll, you ready?” Bucky’s voice rang out through your shared apartment.
“Almost!” You called out, closing the clasps on your earrings. You ran your hands down your dress, pressing out a stubborn wrinkle that had appeared when you were putting the finishing touches to your makeup. You slipped on your heels, which you knew you were going to regret later tonight, but that was a problem for future Y/N. You exited your bed room to see Bucky pacing by the door. “Buck?” You asked.
He turned and his eyes widened at the sight of you. “Doll, you look beautiful.” He said, closing the gap between the two of you to wrap his arms around your waist and press a quick kiss to your forehead. You sensed something off with him, based on the erratic rhythm of his heartbeat and the emotional waves you could feel flying off him.
You smiled up at him, “Thank you, are you okay?” You asked, concerned that this event would bring up feelings that he had been processing for a while.
“I’m good.” He answered quickly. “Just nervous, I feel like I shouldn’t be a part of this. The Winter Soldier shouldn’t be the same place as Captain America.”
You cut him off, “You have every right to be there, as a Howling Commando, as Steve Roger’s best friend, and as one of the hero’s who saved the universe from a raging purple lunatic. Besides, we can’t miss an event that has free food.”
He chuckled. “I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am.” You winked, turning to the door. “Sam’s here.”
Bucky sighed, “Here we go.” He offered his arm to you as you made your way to the door. He opened the door before Sam had the chance to knock.
“I hate when you two do that, damn.” He grumbled, he stood before the two of you in a black tuxedo.
“Someday you’ll sneak up on us.” You said with a wink.
“Not likely.” Bucky muttered.
A limo was parked in front of your apartment building. You raised your eyebrows at Sam. “Don’t look at me. Pepper insisted that we take a limo and I wasn’t going to argue with her.”
You nodded, it had been almost a year post Thanos. Pepper was strong, but no one wanted to argue with her after losing Tony. Perhaps they had given her maybe too much power over their existence. But her husband had sacrificed himself for the entire universe. So she could take all the time she needed to heal.
Sam slid in first, followed by you, then Bucky. You sat sandwiched between the two men, who had come to some as semblance of friendship in the time since Sam was given the shield. You knew Bucky was not jealous of Sam by any means, he did not want any part of being Captain America. Helping Sam, that he could do. In some odd ways he seemed to believe it atoned for his sins as the Winter Soldier. You leant back in your seat, the limo filled with silence, which was rare for these two. You wondered what the deal was.
Bucky shifted so his hip was no longer against his, he mentally smacked himself as you gave him an odd look. It wasn’t like him to pull away from any kind of contact, he glanced up and Sam smirked at him. What he would give to be able to throttle him……. But that was not going to be the focus of his night, you were. The velvet box in his pocket grounding him. He watched you settle into conversation with Sam and remained silent.
He had met you during the time of conflict between Tony and Steve. You had pulled him back when Steve and Tony were at each other’s throats. You had pushed him behind you when they got closer. He was confused, to say the least, first that someone would protect him, and that person would be human. At least, that was what he had thought you where when he first met you. After being in Wakanda, he realized that you weren’t entirely a human. You had telepathic abilities, which was why you had been there when they took him out of the cryostasis.
You had been able to sense the links in his brain that had been set up by Hydra. Your abilities to sense helped the Wakandan team to begin working on his mind. You stayed with him through his recovery, often showing up to his hut in the middle of the night when he was pulled back into his memories, back to the Soldier. One night would remain in his memories eternally.
He was taken back to the night that he was deep in a Soldier nightmare. The nightmare of the Starks. He was slipping, he could feel the Soldier clawing at the door he had slammed shut and locked. No, no, not again. He was thrust into the past against his will.
“Barnes?” You had felt a shift in him, back into the Soldier. You entered his hut cautiously. He didn’t answer, you could feel the energy swirling around him, darkness swallowing the light. You stopped outside his bedroom door, you had always felt apprehension at passing through his room, but you couldn’t let that stop you. You pushed into his room, he was in the center of the bed, covers thrown to the side. His hand wrapped tightly in the sheets. Sweat coated his body, his dark hair sticking to his forehead.
“NO!” He screamed, your heart breaking at his voice.
You wasted no more time staring at him, “Barnes,” You murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed, next to his hand. You reached out with your mind. “Come back, Barnes.”
You were thrown into his mind, feeling his panic, his shame. The Soldier turned to you, as he often did, you could feel the snarl it gave. James began to calm to ground himself, reaching out to your energy, retreating from the Soldier. You felt the Soldier return to his locked door.
His eyes opened and they took in the woman sitting on the edge of his bed. “Y/N.” He whispered, his hand reaching out and grasping yours. His fingers threaded through yours, this was the first thing he always did when he was pulled out of his Soldier nightmares. He craved contact and you wouldn’t deny him that.
“Welcome back, Barnes.” You said, brushing your thumb against the back of his hand. “Where did you go?”
“The 90s, the Starks.” He turned away from you, “I should have let Tony kill me.”
You removed your hand from his and reached out, placing your hand on his face and turning his eyes back to yours. “It wasn’t you, it was the Soldier. It was what they created.” You murmured, stroking his cheek. His hand reached up and he pushed your hand away.
“But he is a part of me, and I couldn’t stop him.” Tears collected in his grey eyes.
“It takes time to fight your inner demons. And yours were supercharged and given the chance to run your life. Having demons doesn’t make you inherently evil.” You stated, moving further onto his bed, placing your hands on either side of his face. “In the heart of it all you are a good man.”
He let out a sob, “I….”
“Do not even start that bullshit with me. I have looked inside of you, you know what I’ve seen? A man who will go to the ends of the world to protect those he loves. A man who gives so much more than he gets. A man who survived hell and came back up.” You snarled, E/C eyes unmoving as you stared into his. “You are a damn good man and I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his bare chest, he burrowed his face into your hair. This was something unspoken between the two of you. The contact, the feelings. But he always pushed you away. If there was one person in the universe he could not afford to hurt it was you. “Please don’t go.” He begged.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You murmured, reaching out with your mind to soothe him. You felt his heartbeat slow and his breathing turn to soft snores. Your pulse synced with his as his hand made its way up to your back.
This is where you had found yourself most nights. Wrapped in his arms listening to the sound of his slumber, using your abilities to guard him from the Soldier. Bucky’s subconscious mind was more susceptible to allowing a takeover. If your telepathy could bring him enough peace to get sleep.
Multiple times through this Shuri had found you wrapped up with Bucky, “You two should just move in together.” She said after she walked in on you wrapped up together in bed after the Stark nightmare.
James’ face turned bright red as he looked at you. Expecting you to fight Shuri on this.
“You know, it might not be such a bad idea. Then I wouldn’t have to do battle with the goats at two o’clock in the morning.” You said, pulling yourself out of his arm and sitting upright on the edge of the bed.
“So it’s settled, we’ll move Y/N’s stuff in today.” Shuri giggled, skipping out of the room.
“You don’t have to do this.” James said.
“When are you going to get this through your head, I want to.” You answered, resting your hand on his cheek. Barnes remained silent on this, you could see the wheels turning in his mind. “Now I have to go get my things, because once Shuri has an idea in her head there is no stopping her, roomie.”
He groaned, knowing you were right. “I’ll start making room for you.” Running his hand through his hair, he sat up. “And you can call me Bucky. People who live together don’t have formalities, doll.”
And that was the moment that you both silently recognized that there was something more than friendship between you.
It was comfortable, living with you. You opened his eyes to everything he had missed from the decades in Soldier Mode. Films, books, and music. No matter how much you introduced him to modern music, he still clung to the styles of the past. On multiple occasions he had pulled you into the yard to dance with him under the stars. Those were his favorite moments with you, just swaying to the music, his past would drift away. Holding you he could feel hope for his future. Peace in his present.
“Buck, baby?” Your voice pulled him from his memories.
“Yeah, doll?” He asked, rubbing his eyes with his flesh hand.
“You ready?” You asked, nodding to the limo’s door. Sam had stepped out, he hadn’t even noticed.
His metal hand wrapped around yours, “I’m ready.”
You entered the museum hand in hand. Nodding to Sam as you passed, a smirk on his face. The museum was filled with people in formal wear. Music floated in from the hall, World War II regalia littering the walls.
Pepper caught sight of the two of you and closed the distance. “James, we’ll have you open the gala with a dance. As the only living original member it’s a great press moment.” She turned on her heel, you and Bucky following her. When you made it to the hall you were impressed. They had opened the center up to allow for a large dance hall. You glanced around the room, highly doubting that you had seen this much red, white, and blue ever in your lifetime.
“Goddamn.” Bucky murmured behind you.
“Pep doesn’t hold back.” You whispered. Taking in the room, a band was set up on stage.
Nervous energy swirled around Bucky, you tightened your grip on his hand, “I’m okay, I promise.” He glanced up at the band, “I’ll be right back.” He made his way over to the singer and shook the man’s hand.
Confusion flooded your system. Bucky, approaching someone, without prompting? Sam came up on your left. “Look at our baby, off on his own. It brings a tear to my eye.”
You reached out and smacked his chest. “Asshole.” You muttered.
“That’s Captain Asshole, thank you very much.”
You rolled your eyes, keeping watch over Bucky, who was smiling and joking with the singer of the band. He was comfortable, you could sense it, even though there was a tinge of nervousness in his system. The Soldier had stayed deep inside him for so long, but old habits died hard and you always kept a tether to Bucky, monitoring. When Bucky had realized this you had expected him to be mad, maybe an outburst of the Soldier, but that never happened. He wrapped you in his arms and thanked you, for protecting him, for backing him up.
Bucky turned back to you and waved, you gave a small wave back to him. “Awwww, you and Frosty, so cute.” A voice came from behind you.
“Shuri! What are you doing here?” You asked giving the young woman a quick hug.
“You think I wouldn’t come to Pepper’s fundraiser?” She answered. You glanced around, realizing that a majority of the Avengers were here. Bruce in the corner, Clint and his wife at the appetizers table, Peter dancing around the room armed with his cell phone. It was odd, you had all been together multiple times since Tony’s funeral. But usually that was for meetings on the state of the world.
Pepper walked up to the microphone on stage, Bucky turning away from the singer to stand next to her. You had to marvel at him, there had been a time when he couldn’t even see Pepper without going into full fight or flight mode. Seeing him standing tall on stage reminded you of how many battles he had won. “Good Evening.” Pepper began, causing the crowd to grow silent. “I would like to thank you all for being here tonight. The preservation of history has always been a passion for Stark Enterprise. Tony would have been so glad to see all of you here. This expansion of the Captain America exhibit will be dedicated to Howard Stark.” She paused and took a breath. Bucky tensed beside her, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “So open your checkbooks, sign on those dotted lines, and remember, donations make great tax write offs.” The crowd chuckled. “To open our gala tonight, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes will open the dance floor.”
“And that’s my cue.” The singer said from the other side of the stage. As Bucky made his way off the stage to you. He held out his hand and you placed yours in his, letting him pull you onto the dance floor. “Sergeant Barnes requested this song for tonight, so here’s hoping I do it justice.”
Bucky pulled you into him, one hand placing yours on his shoulder, then moving to your waist. You rested your head on his shoulder. “So you requested a song for tonight?”
“I did.” He answered. “And that’s only the beginning of the surprises tonight.” His hand tracing circles on your back and the singer began his tune.
“In this world of ordinary people,
Extraordinary people.
I'm glad there is you.”
You breathed in as you listened to the singer’s lyrics, Bucky’s grip tightening on your mid-section, bringing you closer to him. You heard his voice softly singing along with the singer. He had sung a few times before while you were dancing, but you could feel his intent rolling out of him in waves. Your telepathic connection filled with love.
“In this world of over-rated pleasures,
Of under-rated treasures,
I'm so glad there is you.”
“I’m so glad.” He whispered into your hair. “God, doll, you’re the best thing to happen to me.”
“I live to love, I love to live with you beside me,
This role so new, I'll muddle through with you to guide me.”
He guided you around the dance floor, you could feel the eyes of the whole room on the two of you, but you only focused on Bucky. Memories of your days teaching Bucky about technology in Wakanda came up to the surface. You chuckled as you remembered one that ended in a smashed computer and an irate Shuri.
“In this world where many, many play at love,
And hardly any stay in love,
I'm glad there is you.”
“I love you.” He whispered into your hair. His grip loosening as he spun you out then pulled you back against his chest. You looked up into his blue eyes.
“I love you too.”
“In this world where many, many play at love,
And hardly any stay in love,
I'm glad there is you.”
“Which is why I need to do this.” He pulled away from you, nervous energy spiking.
“Buck….”
“It’s okay, doll.” He murmured. Reaching into his pocket and kneeling down onto one knee. The music dimming into a quiet instrumental. “Y/N. I’ve loved you since the first time we met. You have helped me piece myself back into my old self. Teaching me all about the present. So….. Y/F/N, will you marry me?” He opened the box, showing a simple, but beautiful, diamond ring.
“Hmmmm…. That’s a tough one.” You murmured, a small flash of panic racing through his eyes. “Yes, I will marry you.” You answered, bending down and placing a kiss to his lips. He pulled away, a wide smile on his face. He took your hand and slipped the ring on your finger before pulling you back into his chest. The crowd erupted into cheers.
You buried your face in his chest. As you heard Sam yell out, “About damn time!”
You felt Bucky chuckle and the singer’s voice broke through the crowd.
“More than ever, I'm glad there is you.”
Bucky repeated the words into your hair as he rested his head on top of yours. The nervous energy you had sensed from him all night and you felt yourself wrapped in the energy that was just purely Bucky. You noticed Bucky stiffen.
“Babe….?” You asked.
“He came.” He whispered, you glanced up at his face and followed his eyes to the elderly man in the corner of the room. A smile graced the man’s face and he nodded to the two of you. “Steve.”
You looked up at your fiancé. “Go on.” You said, pushing him towards his best friend. You felt tears in your eyes as the men embraced.
“Barnes is a lucky man.” You heard Pepper’s voice behind you.
“No, I’m the lucky one.” You murmured, watching the men looking around the room. Reminiscing no doubt, to the naked eye, it probably looked like a grandson and grandfather. But you knew, it was best friends who finally got their moment to celebrate their victories.
27 notes · View notes
teffyjeffy · 4 years
Text
Fabric Tears (Part 3)
NEXT (Coming soon to the Mystery Shack!)
PART 1
PART 2
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
ONCE UPON A TIME...
TABLE OF CONTENTS
With the sudden task to redecorate the dining room for a tea party materializing in front of everyone, an aura of calmness had settled within the Corduroy household, much to Wendy's relief, Mabel's joy, and Dipper's confusion.
First off, the winter garb finally came off, now that there was no longer the threat of a bear running away while the coats were being removed. Dan was more than happy to house them in the closet located near the entrance. The closet, which originally was only keeping plaid colored jackets in there, now had a splash of color with the trio's coats added to the rack. 
The three Corduroy brothers returned in record time with a box of Candyleaf, and whole bunch of other boxes of tea flavors. They all talked over each other with excitement, talking about how the ghostly couple were so thankful for the boy's good manners that they were allowed to the other boxes for free. Dan roared with good natured laughter and got a second kettle of water boiling.
Wendy and Mabel were taking turns between keeping an eye on Mr. SnuggleLots and setting the table up. Mabel made sure to throw a bunch of cute stickers on the tea cups. Wendy taught the bear how to play card games, and thankfully, cards were not in Mr. SnuggleLots's diet.
Dipper and Frisk were taking a break, sitting at the bottom steps of the stairway and watching Mabel, Wendy, and everyone else running around and transforming the dining room into a top quality tea set for Mabel's wild tea party plan. Dipper and Frisk were also using this opportunity to keep an eye on the pets, with Dipper holding onto Waddles, and Frisk giving lovely head scritches to Toby
"Back in the summer, I bet I would've chopped the poor bear's head off by this point or something," joked Dipper.
"I have a feeling you would've faced some resistance from Mabel if you tried that," replied Frisk, holding the torn scarf in their hands and making sure that Toby was far away enough to not consider biting it.
Dipper laughed, setting Waddles down to give himself a moment to stretch his arms. "Yeah, probably. Still though... I don't know if she would have come to this crazy conclusion to throw a tea party if she hadn't met you. Maybe instead, she'd have... pfft, I dunno, encased him in ice and shipped him off to the North Pole?"
"It feels like any scenario is possible if Mabel is behind it," teased Frisk.
"Just her, huh? Sounds like someone's picking favorites," laughed Dipper, giving the child ambassador a playful shove on the shoulder.
"Maybe I am~ Are you willing to prove to me that you are the sibling who's worth more of my attention than your sister?"
"Ohhhhhh no, don't go there. Last time Mabel and I had that kind of dispute, things got... pretty ridiculous. I've hated carpets ever since..."
"If you're going to continue being secret about your stories, you should stop hooking people in like that. I was all down for letting your story remain untold, and then you bring up this sudden hatred for carpets? You have captivated me, Dipper."
The stairway softly echoed with the barks of Toby, the snorts of Waddles, and the chuckles of Dipper and Frisk... when another sound made its way to Dipper's ears.
It sounded like... sobbing. From upstairs.
"Everything okay, Dipper?" asked Frisk with a tilt of the head. "You got awfully quiet."
"I'm going to check up on Toriel. Call me if Mabel needs me," Dipper suddenly declared, making his way up the stairs.
"Huh? Dipper, wait-" began Frisk, but Dipper was already gone. Giving a sigh of uncertainty, Frisk resumed watching the rest of the group set up the table while the pets messed around.
Dipper was able to find Wendy's room pretty quickly, having memorized to route to get there, which he was embarrassed to admit. Without thinking, we twisted the knob and opened the door.
"Toriel, what's wrong? I heard... sobbing..........."
The room was almost completely dark, the only light source in the room coming from the paused image on Wendy's television. And there, sitting on Wendy's bed, legs folded and drawn in to her chest, was Toriel; her eyes were puffy and red, there was a prominent trail of tears on both of her cheeks. Even Papyrus could have deduced that the Ex-Queen had been crying.
Not wanting to stare, Dipper shifted his attention to the television set. The image on the screen appeared to be a home recording of some sort, the kind taken with a big vintage video camera. The background depicted a well maintained house with a wooden floor and fireplace. In the foreground...
There was a little goat kid, eyes wide with wonder, and tears welling up at the bottom of those eyes. He had white soft-looking fur, a tinge of pink to his cheeks, and just... the purest smile that Dipper had ever seen. Pure enough to rival Mabel's 1000-watt grins.
Toriel's yelp of shock jolted Dipper back to the present moment.
"Dipper! I- I wasn't- that is, I didn't... I didn't anticipate that anybody would need me so soon-"
"Nonono, it's my fault, I... I thought you were in trouble and I came running in-"
They both eventually stopped talking over one another and a thick silence fell on them.
"...........I- I'll go-" Dipper started.
"No, it's-" began Toriel, her voice hitching.
...
Toriel continued. "Frisk has... told me about you. How your curiosity tends to drive you."
"Well um... it's not something I'm proud of exactly... but yeah, I'd say that description fits me."
The awkward silence returned, but this time the intensity was a little lighter.
Dipper was the one to break it this time. "Listen, you don't need to tell me anything, my curiosity should not be a factor in this-"
"I appreciate that, Dipper. But let's be honest. If I had you leave now, things will be awkward afterwards, and they'll stay awkward for who knows how long. I.... I might as well tell you, now that you've already seen it."
For one last moment, silence filled the room, the only audible sound being the buzz of the old television set.
"......please come in," finished Toriel.
Not a word was spoken as Dipper warily entered Wendy's room and shut the door behind him, submerging the room in near-total darkness once more, minus the light shining from the TV. Toriel looked down to the floor. She said nothing, but slowly lifted the paw that held the remote... and hit 'play.'
"M-mom?! You made this for me?! It's gigantic! I want it! I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT!!!"
"Ha ha ha ha! I know, it looks delicious, doesn't it! But that's no excuse to forget your manners. How do you ask for things that you want, my child?"
"Mom, may I please eat the cake?"
"Nope!"
"What?!!!? B-but you said... you said that I-!"
"Aha ha ha ha! I'm just teasing you my child! Before I can let you dig in though, your father and I need to sing for you!"
"That song again?? You sing it every year though, ha ha!"
"Maybe. But it is a tradition~ And it's worth singing for you, my bundle of sunshine~"
"Stoppit mommmmmm! You're embarrassing me!"
"Hush now, little one~ And close your eyes~"
The image suddenly went dark, and Dipper realized that the lights had been switched off in the household... then the screen lit up again, by candles being lit on the cake. The light gave the goat child a very calming orange glow. He looked so... happy.
"Okay! You can open them now!"
And he did. Dipper watched him gasp... somehow, the goat child's smile managed to get even bigger.
"♫Happy Birthday to you ♫..........♫Happy Birthday to you♫.......... ♫Happy Birthday dear-"
"Asriel" mouthed Dipper.
His lips had moved before his brain, or heart, or even his voice could process it. But he just knew. This was him. This... was Asriel. The child that Frisk had tried to save... and lost.
Dipper vaguely noted that at some point, tears had welled up in his eyes and they were currently trailing down his cheeks.
"...Happy Birthday tooooooo yooouuuuuuuuu~♫ Make a wish, little one!"
The video went still again. Dipper looked up to see that Toriel had hit the remote's pause button once more, the small box silently trembling in her paw. She dropped the remote, buried her face in her tear-stained sleeves, and let out the most gut wrenching wail that Dipper had ever heard. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her. And bless her heart, she let him.
"He.......... he was everything..." whimpered Toriel after what felt like hours of weeping in Dipper's arms. "He was full of life... every day was filled with his cries and his laughter... the plan was when he was old enough to become a prince, we were going to surprise him with a throne that was just... covered with honey suckles. Asriel always... always loved those honey suckles..."
Dipper could not say a word. What could he say? He had never endured the loss of a loved one. He came awfully close to losing Mabel at the hands of him, but unlike Toriel, Dipper got lucky. He had his great uncles to thank for protecting him and his sister. But it appeared that Toriel did not have such luck...
Toriel sniffled. "You remember earlier when Mabel said she was willing to share her candy with the coolest mom to ever walk the earth, right Dipper?"
"I remember."
She gave a sad laugh. "Well... this is the day when I remember how lousy of a mother I was. I should have seen the signs. I should have stopped him... and I didn't. I'm no cool mother. I'm not even a good one... I... I was powerless, Dipper."
All Dipper could do was tighten the hug. Nothing could be said. Toriel Dreemurr was going through something that Dipper could never fathom, and part of him hoped that he would never come to learn it.
      There was suddenly a gentle creeeeeeeeeaaaaaaak that shook the two out of their hug.
It was Frisk.
Nobody said anything for a while. All that could be heard was the clinking and clattering of silverware downstairs.
"...The tea is ready," finally spoke Frisk. "Mabel is expecting all of us to attend. I can let her know if you need more time th-"
Toriel shook her head. "N-no, I'm alright. You said tea is ready?"
"Yes, correct," affirmed Frisk. They watched as Toriel remained tense. They gave a quick glance to the television screen, before looking back to their mother.
"...The plan was to talk once this was all over, correct?" said Frisk reassuringly. "I'll tell you everything then, I promise. But first, I'd like to have some tea. Mabel will be furious if anyone lets their cup get cold."
"R-right... Yes... Yes of course," said Toriel, standing up from the bed and dusting herself off. "Tell Mabel I'll be right down."
"Yes Mom," said Frisk with a hint of a smile, disappearing from view as they climbed back down the stairs.
"Well... I'll see you downstairs Dipper," said Toriel, wiping her eyes. "Mind shutting the TV off for me?"
"I don't mind at all, Toriel. See you down there," said Dipper with a wave, watching as Toriel disappeared from his view.
There was... a lot to process from that exchange. But it would have to wait for now. Dipper reached forward to press the TV's on/off switch...
...when something on the monitor caught his eye.
The dim background made it hard to see, but Dipper swore that there, sitting in a chair, was another child.
A human child.
...
Dipper hit 'play.'
"I wish that I can stay best friends forever with-!"
"Oh come on Asriel, you wished for that last year. Wish for something else this time, sheesh."
"Hey! That was rude!" said Asriel, seeming to be both shocked and tickled by the remark. "You're such a meanie sometimes, Cha-"
And then there was static. The videotape had reached its end.
                ...
Filled with questions that he knew he'd have to wait until the right moment to ask about, Dipper turned the TV off and finally left Wendy's room.
Dipper was met with a very lively spectacle.
Dan was pouring cup after cup of various tea flavors, handing them to Mabel and Wendy (both wearing heat resistant gloves) who fanned out to place each cup in front of 11 different seats at the dining room table. Toriel had already sit herself down at one of the seats, but had opted to wait until everyone was seated before she began sipping her tea. Toby and Waddles were running around underneath the table, darting under some chairs and darting around others. The boys and Frisk were gathered in the living room, Frisk eagerly listening to a story that Marcus was telling about how he once managed get himself a gigantic fish from the lake (while Kevin and Gus acted it out in the background to hype up the tale) and all four of them were smiling and laughing. Sitting at the end of the table, his beady eyes taking in the entire scene, was Mr. SnuggleLots.
"Dipper! Welcome back!" said Mabel as she noticed her awestruck brother. She walked up to him and took him by the hands. "Welcome to the tea party! Your seat is right over here next to Mr. SnuggleLots! Don't worry, he hasn't been biting anything since he ate my half of Papyrus's scarf. Come on, this way!"
Dipper let himself be guided by Mabel as she sat him down at his seat. Now that he was at the table, he noticed all of them had a designated name. Starting from Dan's seat, and working clockwise, the seats were as follows.
Daniel
Marcus
Gus
Kevin
Toriel
Frisk
Mabel
Mr. SnuggleLots
Dipper
Wendy
Francine
...Francine? Who was-?
"ALRIGHT EVERYONE!" Hollered Dan, clinking a glass so hard that it sounded like swords clashing. "THE TEA PARTY HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN! THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING, AND ON BEHALF OF THE MABEL PINES ORGANIZATION-"
"Yes my friends, that is actually a thing!!!" piped Mabel.
"-WE HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY YOUR TIME HERE! NOW, DRINK UP!"
Everybody swarmed the table, plopping down in their designated seats and engaging in lively conversation. The Corduroys, minus Wendy, clashed their mugs together like they were beer mugs, then blew on their cups and gently sipped on them because they were actually hot mugs of tea, not cold jugs of beer. Toriel was giggling as Frisk had managed to get roped into another story that Mabel was telling to Mr. SnuggleLots, whose reactions were proving that he could always understand English like Dipper hypothesized. Looking elsewhere, the boy was pleased to notice that Toriel was looking more and more like her old self, and Wendy seemed to be lighting up from the calm but animated gathering. Dipper couldn't help but smile, happy to see that Wendy was starting to recover from her frustration from the recent lack of sleep.
But in the midst of this discussion, Dipper noticed that the seat of Francine was still vacant.
"Wondering about the empty seat, kiddo?" Wendy spoke up, Dipper tearing his gaze away from the seat to look at her.
"Um... y-yeah I suppose," said Dipper, cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. "Is it..."
"A seat for my mom? I'm afraid so, champ," said Wendy, giving a gentle smile and taking a hearty sip of her tea now that it had cooled down enough. "Francine Corduroy. Better known by her nickname, Manly Fran."
Dipper looked down, not knowing how to reply. As he looked up, he saw Toriel on the other side. She appeared to have overheard the conversation.
"Manly Fran?" repeated Dipper.
"Yep, believe it or not, my dad was always a fan of tea time. His masculine attitude was a rather late addition. It's how he makes sure that her legacy lives on, I suppose. Though I bet that most of what he does nowadays would just make my Mom howl."
"Did she enjoy tea?" Toriel blurted, before putting a paw to her mouth. It seems she didn't mean to speak out loud.
"Oh she loved it, especially if Dad was the one who made it," Wendy gave a warm laugh. "Her adoration for it is the reason my dad didn't abandon it when she passed..." she takes her napkin and gently dabs at her eyes. "It's our way of honoring her. We do this every memorial. It is... one of my favorite nights every year. It's cool that we managed to find an excuse to do it tonight, but... it just wouldn't feel right to have it without that one empty seat, even if this one isn't for her, you know?"
"I assume that the atmosphere here is... a lot less lively during the day of her passing..." Toriel's voice quivered near the end.
"Oh, you couldn't be further from the truth," snorted Wendy in laughter. "If anything, tonight's positive vibes are subdued compared to the anniversary of her passing. The whole day is filled with stories, memories, laughs, and endless tea for anyone who asked for it. I know it seems backwards to be that jovial during a day of remembrance for a dead family member who was a part of all of our lives- and don't get me wrong, there is a fair share of crying as well- but hey... if we're gonna remember her every year, we all knew that it would be better, and healthier in the long run, to fill the day with as many smiles as there are tears."
Wendy tilted her eyes towards the ceiling. She gave a kiss to the air, gestured her mug to it, and finished the rest of her tea. "Ahhhhhh..."
"That's... that's incredible," said Toriel, wiping her eyes.
"Oh, the tea was cold enough at this point," Wendy assured. "If it was fresh from the kettle, there's no way that-"
"No, I mean... the way your family honors your late mother. It's....... I've never thought of it that way. 'As many smiles as there are tears...'"
"Words straight from my Old Lady," said Wendy, leaning back in her seat.
Toriel looked down, silent. She witnessed her reflection in the steaming liquid. She managed a smile. "Wise words to be sure. I would've loved to meet her."
"She would've loved to meet everyone here," said Wendy with a courteous smirk, before heading out of her seat to quickly pour herself a second mug.
The topic of Francine drifted off soon after, and eventually everyone was back to jovial discussions that were occasionally sprinkled with a bark or a yip. All the while, the smile on Mr. SnuggleLots's face never wavered.
About an hour and a half passed before the mood died down enough to declare that the table should be cleared off. The kids had reconvened to discuss the night.
"I guess we managed to check off almost all the boxes on your Rehabiliteddy Program™, Mabel," said Frisk.
"Oh right, I forgot that that program had multiple steps," said Dipper, proving that Mabel had relied on this program before.
"Right... we still have no idea if this guy has an owner out looking for him," reminded Mabel.
"Or whether or not the owner ever want's him back," cautioned Frisk.
"Or even whether or not the owner is a human, or a bear, or something else entirely," added Dipper.
The kids went silent, stewing in all the questions that were unanswered.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
Everybody in the house froze. Toby started growling at the front door. 
"Helloooo?!" came a muffled, ragged voice of an elder woman from the other side of the door. "Pardon the disturbance! I just need to know if something passed this way! A Teddy bear to be specific! One that's alive, to be more specific!"
The kids shared a glance at Mr. SnuggleLots who was being playfully tossed around by the Corduroy brothers. Did the voice truly belong to the bear's owner?
Frisk shimmered orange for a second, deciding that there was only one way to find out. "I'll get the door."
"Wait, hang on a second, Frisk-!" tried Dipper.
But Frisk had already marched toward the door and opened it.
On the other side was a heavily hunching, stubby old woman. Her skin was heavily wrinkled and had a sickly green complexion. Her hair was gray to the point of looking white, and there was a cobweb or two that was nestled in her shabby locks. And she was wearing a tattered cloak that was decorated with two giant shadows of disembodied hands.
"Hand Witch!!!" cheered Mabel, recognizing the kind hag.
"Well welllllllllll! If it isn't the lady who helped redecorate my caaaaaaave!" dragged the delighted witch. "And the boy as welllllllll! Good to see you!!! I don't recognize the kid in the striped sweater though..."
"Wait, the Hand Witch?" said Wendy, cocking an eyebrow in bafflement. "I thought you were just some myth that Stanley cooked up to sell his overpriced molds of decapitated hands."
"Nope, he and I go way back!" said the Hand Witch proudly. "Thanks to the kind metal-teethed lady, I finally know what it's like to have a sweet heart!"
"You have a boyfriend!!?" squealed Mabel in excitement, slapping her hands to her cheeks.
"Hm? Oh no, he broke things off with me weeks ago," explained the Hand Witch, cheerfully adding, "So I boiled him up and ate his heart! Hearts are surprisingly sugary after you cook them!"
Mabel looked like her own mom told her that Santa Claus got killed in a sleigh accident. "W.... What...?"
The Hand Witch laughed awkwardly. "That was a joke. I thought I was being obvious about that, sorry. We're still together!" she continued, holding up a photo of herself smiling happily and holding hands with... a pale skinned, wrinkly man with unfocused yellow eyes, crooked brown teeth, shaggy dirty hair, and a giant gaping hole in his chest. "I did eat his heart for real, though. He's a ghoul now."
"Oh, okay then!" said Mabel, calming down quite a bit, not appearing to care about the whole eating-hearts thing. Dipper probably did though, considering how creeped out he looked.
Frisk on the other hand marched straight up to the witch and stuck their hand out. "Frisk Dreemurr, Ambassador of Monsters from the Underground. Pleased to meet you."
"Ooooooooooooooo, such delicate haaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnds~! Um, I mean, the pleasure is all mine!" said the Hand Witch, eagerly shaking Frisk's hand with both of hers. 
"Am I to understand that you are the owner of this Nocturnal Teddy Bear?" asked Frisk, seemingly unphased by the Hand Witch dragging the hand shake on for a little too long.
"Yep!" nodded the Hand Witch. "Good ol' Beelzecub is my own creation! Did you kids cross paths with him by any chance?"
"Beelze-what???" Mabel stumbled over her words, when suddenly she felt something land on her head. It was Mr. SnuggleLots, recognizing the witch.
"Ah! There he is!" exclaimed the witch. "Beelzecub! You sure gave me a work out that is only sure to worsen my distorted spine! Why'd you run off?! Was it something I said? Or did? Was it something I didn't say or do? Speak to me Beelzecub! Speak to me, even though I know you can't talk! Was it because you thought I couldn't handle raising you when you turned out to be more of a bear than I intended?!
"What do you mean by him being more of a bear than you intended?" asked Toriel, approaching the group.
"My goal was to create the most Teddy Bearish sentient Teddy Bear to ever roam Gravity Falls!" bellowed the witch, imaginary thunder and lightning booming behind her. "But what came out... acted a lot more like your average bear cub."
"So you abandoned him?!" realized Toriel.
"Absolutely not! I raised him like any well-respected mother should do! Anyone who abandons a child if they don't come out exactly like they intended was never meant to be a parent at all!"
"I mean... do the rules of parenting apply here?" said Dipper, a little perplexed by this strange scenario. "What do you think, Frisk? ....Frisk?"
Frisk suddenly shook out of their stupor. "Hm?"
"Do you think the Hand Witch should treat Mr. SnuggleLots like he's her son?" said Dipper.
"Oh um, I suppose so. She did create him and all."
"See Dipper?!" said Mabel, nudging him. "I knew that Necromancy could be used for good!"
"I'm pretty sure necromancy doesn't apply here," grumbled Dipper.
"If he knows I created him, then why did my boy run away from home???" said a downtrodden Hand Witch. "I did my best to raise him right in the three weeks that I had him..."
There was silence among the group, nobody knowing how to approach this extremely weird conundrum. Even Waddles and Toby were silent.
The silence was broken by a familiar growl from a stomach made of stuffing.
"Oh!" said the Hand Witch, noticing the Teddy bear. "Are you still hungry, Beelzecub? I have a nice plate of fresh fish waiting for you at home!"
The bear said nothing.
Mabel got up to the hag's ear. "Try calling him Mr. SnuggleLots."
"Hm? That's a weird name..." nevertheless, the Hand Witch cleared her dry throat. "Oh Mr. SnuggleLoooooooootssssssss! There's a plate of fish with your name on it if you accompany Mama back to the caaaaaaaaaaave!"
The Trio, the pets, the Corduroys, and Toriel all watched as Mr. SnuggleLots's face turned a sickly green at the mention of fish, the poor bear looking absolutely nauseous.
And everything made sense.
"Mrs. Hand Witch," said Mabel, standing straight. "I believe we know why your pet Teddy ran away from home."
Dipper stood up next. "The reason for him leaving you was not because you were a bad role model, but rather..."
"You were feeding your child literal garbage," finished Frisk.
"B-but, look at him!" pleaded the Hand Witch. "He clearly acts like a... well... huh, actually he's acting pretty much how I envisioned him to act when I made him."
Dipper paced the room, stroking his chin. "I believe that what you had been dealing with was simply a side effect of a hungry Mr. SnuggleLots. It would appear, based on our experience, that the hungrier that Mr. SnuggleLots gets, the more animalistic he becomes. And this is not unheard of; I know a great number of people who display similar behavior when they're hungry. Take Mabel for example. Mabel!"
"Present!" said Mabel, raising her hand.
"Answer honestly! Do you, or do you not, start to growl like gremlin whenever breakfast takes longer than usual to be served?"
"I do!" said Mabel. "I also start biting the table legs!"
"Now then, Ms. Hand Witch," said Dipper, pointing at the witch who was taking notes. "Would you say that Mabel's behavior is well mannered, or not?"
"It isn't," Frisk chimed in. "But it is very much a quality that defines Mabel, and should never be corrected."
Mabel couldn't help but smile at that.
"So wait, hang on," said Wendy. "You mean to tell me that all of this crazy behavior was happening because Mr. SnuggleLots was hangry?"
"You are absolutely correct, Wendy." said Dipper, before returning his focus to the friendly crone. "The point we're trying to make here, Mrs. Hand Witch, is that when you created Mr. SnuggleLots, he was born without any food in his belly. He was starving. And he left your cave because what you were feeding him is not what he eats. It isn't fish, or bugs, or even honey. It is-!"
"Fabric!" said Mabel from behind Dipper, throwing confetti out of her hands. Where she got the confetti from was information that only she knew about.
"So, all that you need to do is change what you feed him," informed Frisk with their index finger up. "If you can't get over feeding him bear-food, then do it in the form of fabric. Knit a fish-doll. Use a yellow spool of yarn in place of a beehive. Things like that. Do that on top of everything else you've been doing for him, and you should be fine."
"I see, I see!" said the Hand Witch, enchanted by the new information. "I shall update his meal planner right away! Whaddya say to that, Beelz- um, I mean, Mr. SnuggleLots? Wow, that's going to take some getting used to... Ahem, well, Mr. SnuggleLots, how 'bout it? Ready to head back to our sweet little cave?"
Mr. SnuggleLots slowly crawled up to the Hand Witch... and gently chewed on her robe. Not eating it. Just chewing it.
"Looks like he's willing to give you another chance," said Frisk smiling.
The hag cackled with glee, picking the bear up and spinning him around. "Mama has missed you sooooooooooooo much!"
Mabel smiled at the happy reunion... but try as she may, she couldn't stop herself from choking up. "I'm gonna miss you, *sniff* Mr. SnuggleLots! Don't forget about me, you- you hear me?! I forbid it!!!"
"There there, sis," soothed Dipper, patting his sister on the back. He looked back to the bear, and gave a gentle yell. "Stay out of trouble from now on, okay buddy?"
"Your mother loves you very much! You're very blessed to have someone like her!" Frisk chimed in. "Don't forget to thank her occasionally!"
The sentient Teddy smiled and nodded, giving one final wave to the kids before the door to the cabin gently shut behind him and the hag.
"Bwaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" came the over-the-top wails of Mabel Pines.
"And here come the post-Teddy-bear Blues," sighed Dipper, giving his sister a big hug.
"Ah, so this is a normal occurrence?" asked Frisk.
"Yep," nodded the capped twin. "She is incredibly loyal to any Teddy bear she encounters. You would not believe the number of times I've had to drag her away from various Lost and Found departments because she gave them a lost Teddy bear and couldn't will herself to part with it."
"Heh," chuckled Wendy. "I guess she couldn't bear saying goodbye to any of them, huh?"
The whole room went silent. Well, almost silent; Toriel took everyone by surprise with her giggles.
"You've been hanging out with Sans too much," snarled Dipper at Wendy.
"The guy's a hoot! Shut up!" laughed Wendy.
"At- at any rate," said Toriel, composing herself, "We should be heading out."
"Wait! We should try to help Wendy out with her sleeping problems!" said Mabel, having snapped out of her state of weeping. "I was going to suggest Mr. SnuggleLots but... he's gone now..." annnnnnnnnnnd the tears resumed.
"Meh, that wouldn't have worked out," said Wendy. "It's right in his species' name: Nocturnal. He'd be up all night, and I'd be spending the whole time taking care of him, instead of getting any sleep. But... it did give me an idea. I think having a stuffed animal would help me get to sleep."
"You want a what???" called Dan, his voice becoming a calm growl.
Wendy sighed and tightened her fists. No backing out now. She was a daughter of Francine Corduroy, and dang it, she was going to act like one.
"You heard me, Dad! You all heard me! I am done with the December noise! You all wanna holler about the upcoming New Year, do it outside! The pub, the woods, the sewers, I don't care! Just do it away from me when I'm trying to sleep! As for the stuffed animal, heck yeah I want one! I've always wanted one, why not!? They're soft, they're quiet, they'll help me sleep, and they don't even cost that much, Dad!"
"Dang, she's going off," said Dipper, almost mesmerized.
"'Tis the wrath of the teenager," said Mabel with deep respect towards the red-haired girl. "A power that you and I will soon acquire for ourselves, brother."
"And... A-and...!" Wendy stammered.
The room went quiet from bated breath.
"AND IF ANY OF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THAT, I'LL SUPLEX YOU INTO A MOUNTAIN!!!"
There was silence. Not a peep was uttered from any of the Corduroys. Wendy simply waited, puffing and panting...
        "BWAAAAAAAAAH HAH HAH HAH!!!" Dan howled with laughter. "THAT'S MY GIRL~!"
"Pardon?" said Wendy.
"First thing tomorrow, we'll stop by the local toy store. You can pick out whichever one you want! The boys wouldn't stop pestering me about it anyway. As for the New Years noise..."
Wendy tensed up.
"Baby girl, I'm gonna be honest, it completely slipped my mind how busy you are with the shack. I promise to take the noise elsewhere. And if you ever catch me forgetting that promise, you have permission to wack me upside the head with your late mother's favorite frying pan."
"You're kidding," said Wendy with a flabbergasted smile.
"Nope, you know I don't kid around with you or any of the boys," said Dan with pride.
"Heh... thanks Dad," said Wendy sheepishly, thinking to herself, Looks like Undyne isn't boasting around when she's giving advice. I keep forgetting that she was a Captain during her time underground.
"Victory for Wendy!!!" cheered Mabel, throwing more confetti from seemingly out of nowhere.
"And with th-thaaaaaattttttt..." Toriel said before letting out a massive yawn of her own. "I believe it's time that we headed home."
As the kids, the pets, and Toriel made their way back home in their winter garb (Mabel now donning a decently lengthed spaghetti scarf thanks to Mr. SnuggleLots biting it down to size), Frisk slowed their pace, drifting away from the kids until the stoic faced child was side by side with their mother.
"Frisk?" said Toriel, curious as to why her child fell behind. 
"I knew that today was Asriel's birthday. I knew the whole time."
"!!!"
"And when I found out that you stole the living room TV, I realized it was because you were planning to spend the day alone in your room with the videotape of his birthday. I... I wanted his birthday to be a day of celebration. A day where you and Dad could come together, if only for the one day. I..."
Toriel said nothing. She just picked her child up and held them close to her as she walked. Frisk buried their face in her shoulder, their tiny hands gripping onto her robe.
"I got..." whimpered the child. "...I got so mad when I found out that you were planning to spend the day away from me... from Dad... from everyone. If anything, we could've at least helped you carry the burden of all the grief the day brings you. So... So I stole the videotape in the hope that you would abandon looking for it and spend time with us instead. I should've told you, I know... but... I was scared you'd just turn me away... I'm sorry..."
"Oh, Frisk," comforted the remorseful mother. "You don't have to apologize for anything..."
    "...except for stealing."
That earned her a muffled chuckle. Okay, good.
"I'm the one who needs to apologize here. I should have never secluded myself from the group, from Asgore, and especially from you. If you knew that today was his birthday, you must've been grieving a bit yourself. And there is no doubt that Asgore was coping with his own grief as well."
She felt Frisk silently nod against her.
"Did you overhear the conversation I was having with Wendy, Frisk?"
"...A bit."
"Well," said Toriel, giving a murmur of a giggle as she ran a paw through Frisk's hair soothingly, "She told me something that I feel silly for not considering sooner. About how the anniversary of a lost loved one should be filled with laughter, not just grief. I promise you, this is the last night where I suffer in a room by myself on my dear Asriel's birthday."
"Really?"
"I swear it, my child."
Frisk pulled back to look their mom in the eyes and smile. "Thanks, Mom."
"You're welcome, my dear sweet Frisk," cooed Toriel, brushing her snout against Frisk's nose endearingly. "Would you like me to set you down?"
"Please," said Frisk. "I just remembered something I want to tell Mabel."
"Of course, sweetie," said Toriel, setting Frisk back down on the snowy ground. "I suppose we can consider this to be the end of the conversation that we both promised earlier to continue."
"Okay, Mom," said a beaming Frisk, before running up to rejoin the group and say...
"Hey Mabel, don't you owe your brother fifty dollars now or something? The owner of the bear turned out to be a witch after all."
"Huh... that's right! Alright, Mabel! Hand over the dough!"
"I don't owe you squat! I refused that deal, remember?! Frisk, you're my witness! Back me up here!"
"I plead the fifth~"
"Traitor!"
The next day was a whirlwind of activity. The Mystery Shack finally reopened, and it turned out that everyone's fear of a swarm was unwarranted, as there was no swarm. But, there was something new about the visitors that kept things interesting.
Monsters were beginning to visit the shack. Of all shapes and sizes, inhabitants of the underground were stopping buy to peruse the gift shop or experience a tour of the museum. Of notice, there was a dummy that was very brash and loud, but was very respectful when asked to shush. There was a purple spider humanoid that was creepily polite as she bought herself a few Mystery Shack Mugs™ and left a flyer on the counter for the 'First Spider Bake Sale on the Surface!' before tittering and leaving the store. There was even a humanoid cat and alligator that stopped by that Wendy just knew her ragtag of friends would get along with. 
Wendy looked like she had a face lift with how much better she looked. At Mabel's curiosity, Wendy spoke about how once this shift is over, she's heading out with her family to visit the toy store and get a toy for each of the kids, and that's when she'll be able to pick out her stuffed animal to sleep with.
"But honestly, I still have no idea what kind of stuffed animal I want right now..."
That's when a peculiar critter, with the cutest face and voice that Wendy had ever seen, passed through the door, followed by 19 lookalikes.
"Hoi! I'm Temmie! Is this the Mystewy Shack???"
Wendy knew exactly what kind of stuffed animal she wanted now.
But it wasn't just monsters showing up. Candy and Grenda finally passed through now that they could, and Mabel nearly knocked Grenda over with her pounce-hug. They spent the whole time preparing sleepovers, catching up, and promising other times to meet up that weren't sleepover-related.  
Old Man McGucket passed by as well! He needed a batch of normal AA batteries. When Dipper asked him what invention he needed the batteries for, he hooted and hollered, saying they weren't for him. They were for the alarm clock for his new lab assistant, simply named 'P.N.' Something about that name struck Dipper as familiar, but McGucket had left the store before the boy could ask him anything else.
Frisk had bumped into someone roughly their size. The other kid was in very suspicious clothing: A tiny trench coat, a fedora, and sunglasses. The only thing Frisk heard from the kid was a simple phrase spoken in a boyish, and ridiculously southern, voice. "If anyone asks, I was never here. Good day."
The Mystery Trio was certain the day was over when Wendy left with her family, flipping the sign from 'Got money? We're Open!' to 'Begone from this cursed place! We're Closed!' on her way out. But it wasn't over.
Toriel had been missing for most of the day, much to the Trio's confusion, the only clue given to them was that she had asked Stanley if there was any flour left over from the errands he was running when Tim attacked. Now, they were about to find out why.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN," rang Papyrus's voice. "THE EX-QUEEN OF THE UNDERGROUND HAS AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS ORDERS YOU TO PLEASE HALT WHATEVER IT IS YOU'RE DOING AND PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT SHE HAS TO SAY! ALSO IF SOMEONE COULD TELL WHY MY SCARF GOT SO MUCH SHORTER OVERNIGHT, THAT WOULD BE FANTASTIC-"
"As I told you, I will explain everything to you soon," a giggling Toriel promised the uptight skeleton, waiting until everyone had congregated in the living room and kitchen before continuing. "My friends, I owe you all an apology."
The whole crew went quiet as Toriel went on.
"Some of you know- and for those that don't, I apologize for holding this secret from you- that yesterday was the birthday of our departed prince of the underground, Asriel Dreemurr."
Gasps were heard all around.
"I spoke nothing of this occasion previously because I didn't want anybody to know. I wanted to grieve alone. I wasn't even willing to share the grief with my ex-husband, Asriel's father, Asgore. My time of grieving for all these years had made me grow distant and selfish."
She spared a glance to Asgore before closing her eyes, sighing, and proceeding.
"Yesterday, a chance encounter with Wendy's family opened my eyes to something. If I'm going to remember Asriel's passing for every year when his birthday comes around, I'm doing my poor child a horrible disservice by not celebrating. By not smiling. By not laughing. By not spending it with those who were close to him and the friends of those close to him.
She looked to everyone. The misty eyed Stan twins. The Papyrus who was trying his best not to shriek like a dog whistle. The Sans who looked lively for once. The Undyne and Alphys who were looking pumped as all heck. The joyous Mettaton. The smiling Napstablook. The Asgore grinning from ear to ear. And the Mystery Trio, who were slowly realizing what she was about to say next.
"So who wants to help me bake a cake?!"
As pandemonium continued to ensue in the kitchen, Toriel found a moment to pull Asgore aside. They both were now sitting quietly on the couch of the back porch.
"Everything alright?" asked Asgore.
"In the grand scheme of things, absolutely not," answered Toriel with brutal honesty. "Our child is still dead. And with him, 6 other children fell. By your cursed trident."
Asgore could only look down, well acquainted with the crushing shame that coursed through him.
"But... today is a tribute to Asriel's birthday. And you were... are... his father."
Toriel finally looked the ex-King in the eyes. "I may never forgive you for what you did after we lost Asriel. However... you were the best father a boy like him could've ever hoped for. And you continue to be that father for our little Frisk. For that... I cannot thank you enough."
"...that's all the thanks I could ever ask of you, Toriel." said Asgore with a sad smile. "I appreciate you telling me."
Despite herself, Toriel gave a small smile. "Come inside. Cake is almost ready, and I'm not going to sit and listen to your whining if you aren't quick enough to nab a piece."
"Ha ha ha, of course," beamed Asgore.
"♫♫HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOOOOOOOOOOOOO YOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUU!♫♫"
The band of misfits finished the terribly sung rendition of the ancient tune. And yet, it was music to Toriel's ears.
She looked up to the ceiling, wiping her eyes and smiling.
"Make a wish, little one~"
"Mabel, Frisk, you guys go on ahead. I'll be right behind you as soon as I'm done with something!"
"Okie dokie!"
"Understood. See you in the morning, Dipper."
Dipper was just on his way to a long needed nightly rest, when he remembered a very important question he wanted to ask Toriel. This was why he approached her as she was getting ready to settle into her bed with a good book.
"Hey, Toriel?"
"Yes, Dipper?"
"In all the excitement from last night and today, I forgot that there was something I wanted to ask."
"Ha ha ha, and what would that be?"
"Yesterday night... I was watching the tape after you left, and... I couldn't help but notice that there was another child in the background."
"Another child?"
"Yeah! They were looking away from the camera a lot but I think they looked like a human... Who were they?"
Toriel gave a bemused smile. Her face was one of pure honesty, and when she answered, her words came straight from the heart.
      And that's why what she said next did not sit well with Dipper at all.
                "Dipper, sweetheart, I'm afraid I don't understand. Asriel was the only child we had in our family. I don't remember raising anyone alongside him. Who is this this other child that you claim to see?"
A day spent remembering the passing of a loved one is better went it's filled with laughter and good company. Solitude and grief is necessary, but extended doses of it can be harmful.
Credits Scene
"Tadaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" cheered the Hand Witch. "I present to you, my dearest Mr. SnuggleLots, with the first round of your new meals!"
The Teddy bear was currently seated at the table, the latter donned with a table cloth and three covered platters.
The first platter unveiled a perfectly crocheted fish, with light-blue scales made of yarn and beads for eyes.
The second platter revealed a giant spool of yellow and brown yarn, representing a beehive.
The third platter showcased a plethora of colorful beads, which symbolized different berries and bugs.
"So which one will it beeeeeeeeee?" dramatized the Hand Witch excitedly. "Take your pick! It's all up to you!"
Mr. SnuggleLots took a very decent amount of time examining all three tasty fabric-treats...
...
Before eating the tablecloth.
"Ah, I see," said the witch, dumbstruck. "You are... quite the picky eater."
Mr. SnuggleLots only smiled at her, his cheeks puffed up from the tablecloth currently in his mouth. 
.- / - --- .- ... - / - --- / - .... . / ..-. .- -- .. .-.. -.-- ---. / - --- / - .... . / .--. .-. .. -. -.-. . --..-- / -- --- ..- .-. -. . -.. / -... -.-- / .- .-.. .-.. ---. .-.-.. .- -. -.. / --- -. . / - --- / - .... . / -.-. .... .. .-.. -.. / - .... .- - / -. --- / --- -. . / -.-. .- -. / .-. . -.-. .- .-.. .-.. ---.
NEXT (Coming soon to the Mystery Shack!)
PART 1
PART 2
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
ONCE UPON A TIME...
TABLE OF CONTENTS
12 notes · View notes
changeling-rin · 4 years
Text
Random DL Thoughts
Physical Appearance Headcanons, here we go!  LOOOOOOONG post ahead.
For the record, Anon, I blame you for getting me started.  ;)
Gen - I am of the opinion that Skyloft is actually between the cloud layers, as opposed to above the clouds entirely.  This is because cirrus clouds (the highest ones) happen at 20,000 feet up, where it is consistently -12*F and that just seems ridiculous for a society in cotton shirts.  My headcanon is that there’s actually quite a lot of cloud cover, so Skyloft doesn’t get nearly as much sun as people might think.   That said, Gen’s a bit paler than most Links, and he also tends to move a bit slower.  High altitudes means varied air pressure, and when he goes down to the Surface there’s always a bit of an adjustment period where he has to get used to breathing air that’s suddenly twice as thick as what he’s used to.  This also contributes to his stature: higher altitude means lesser gravity, which means Gen is easily the tallest Link in the group since there was less gravity pulling on him during growth spurts.  He’s kinda lanky, actually, at least as far as Links go.  We all know they’re kinda short.  Sandy blond hair, and kinda dark blue eyes, almost approaching navy in the right light.  
Speck - He’s the shortest one, and he’s always going to be.  Poor boy’s in his formative growth stage and he spends it shrinking down to be smaller.  Magic accumulates, and he’ll top out at a flat 5 feet... on his tiptoes.  That said, he’s actually pretty strong and stocky for his size.  Regularly having to shove acorns out of the way during the annual Picori Village Fall Cleaning will do that, and of course from hiking up to people’s ears all the time.  He’s also on the paler spectrum; when you’re small, there’s a lot more stuff that can block the sunshine.  He’s a bottle-blond, or at least he would be if that weren’t his natural hair color, and he’s got the bluest eyes of the whole group.  If they glowed, they’d be neon.
The Four - When I say they could be quadruplets, I mean it.  They’re completely and utterly identical in every way possible, except for their clothing.  If for whatever reason they decided to swap colors with each other, absolutely nobody would be able to tell the difference.  Not really a problem since ‘individuality’ isn’t necessarily a concept that the Four ascribe to, but still slightly unnerving when you first see it, which is why the Four don’t always like to advertise their hive-mind qualities.  Bright blond, blue eyes, but a couple steps below Speck in both categories.  I’d say they get an average amount of sun, so they’re probably a little bit tan - but they’re on the paler end of the scale.
Ocarina - He shares his hair and eye color with Mask, this being a golden blond and water-blue eyes, but he has a completely different complexion.  Remember that whole ‘seven years in the Sacred Realm’ thing?  Yeah, that screwed up his skin big time.  The sun hates him, and he's happy to return the favor, because he burns within ten minutes.  This is why he happily adopted the habit of wearing sleeves and leggings, because the less skin he has to burn the better.  He’s also way too pale for his own good, especially the first few weeks after the time jump.  He’s doing better now, having accumulated a little color in between sunburns, but he’s still the whitest Link in the group.  (For now.  Once we get BotW Link in here... whoo gosh.  A hundred years without sunshine, that poor pasty boy.)
Mask - Conveniently having gone back in time to before the Sacred Realm screwed with his skin, he has none of the sunburn problems that Ocarina does and is very glad to have that issue over and done with.  He does, however, have an cumulative and semi-permanent mild tan from the Temina three day loop.  It was sunny for all three of those days, after all, and Mask was running around in the fields a lot.  He’s also got a few acquired traits from the soul masks that he uses, because there’s no such thing as a consequence-free soul merging.  Nothing noticeable, especially not to outside people, but he frequently finds a leaf or two growing in his hair from Creak that he has to pluck out, there’s a small patch of rocky skin on his left ankle from Darmani, and underneath his right elbow there’s the faint blue sheen of barely-there scales from Mikau.  If he keeps hosting for Oni it’s pretty likely that he might develop a white shock or some partial face markings, but as of now that particular relationship hasn’t gone that far yet.
Dusk - He’s pretty tanned, since being a goatherd means being outside all day, every day.  Dark wheatish blond and bright blue eyes, which are striking enough compared to the rest of his coloring that people comment on it all.  the.  time.  At this point, he’s trained himself to respond to ‘blue-eyed [insert noun here]’ because of how frequently it happens.  He’s also got quite a lot of carryovers from his wolf side, because again there’s no such thing as a consequence-free soul merge.  His hair’s a bit thicker and rougher than most people’s, he’s got a few pointed canines even when hylian, and his ears have a tendency to redirect towards sounds regardless of which form he’s in.  Some of the wolf’s markings are beginning to carry over too, as almost birthmark-looking things, but they’re so faint that nobody’s noticed.  (Not even Dusk, yet.) He’s also acquired the ability to growl as a hylian, which was one of the few things that managed to unnerve him the first time it happened before he shrugged and got used to it.  He’s also pretty stocky and muscular, because anyone who can take a charging goat, a charging Goron, and throw around a ball-and-chain the way he does in-game is at least a little bit built.  
Blue, Green, Vio, and Red - They’ve all got the same complexion (relatively pale) and hair color, (sunny blond) but their eyes are individually colored in direct correspondence to their names and clothes.  They also took individual traits from the original Link, so Blue took most of the muscle mass while Vio has most of the intellect - the book smarts, that is, and is overall almost wiry compared to the other three.  Red is the smallest one, muscle-wise, and also tends to be slimmer all the way around, but he’s got most of the magic; and Green is built more like a runner than anything else, and coincidentally is also the most agile.  He’s also got most of the tactics and common-sense-leader stuff.  They look more like ‘normal’ identical quadruplets than the Four do, in that, while they still look a whole lot alike, there’s tiny little differences here and there that make them distinctive from one another... at least, once you memorize them.
Lore - I refuse to believe his hair is pink.  I absolutely refuse.  He is violently red-headed in my headcanons and I like it that way.  He’s the only ‘true ginger’ of the group.  He’s also pretty brown, in a tannish sort of way, because he’s been to enough places that it’s impossible for him to not have gotten some sun exposure.  Also, Holodrum/Subrosia are very, very warm places.  He’s definitely accumulated some color.  Dark blue eyes, not navy, but more like deep water.  He’s got an accent of indeterminate origin because of all the foreign countries he’s been to, and he’s also kinda wiry in a traveller sort of way.  He’s got the kind of muscle that accumulates through constant use; not stocky or bulky or any of that, but more lean and corded.  He’s also got a lot of small battle scars, mostly on his hands, because he’s really bad at using his bow correctly and keeps stinging himself with the bowstring.  This is also, coincidentally, one of the reason why his long-range aim is so bad.  (The other is that he just genuinely sucks at aiming.)
Sketch - He’s sort of ginger, but it’s really more of a strawberry-blond/auburn color than anything else.  He’s got eyes that are more teal than blue, probably the closest to being green without actually being green.  There is, once again, no such thing as a consequence-free soul merge, and as a result the whole ‘painting’ thing has some odd carryovers.  For one, he doesn’t tan.  At all.  Instead, the sun makes him get lighter, almost exactly like paint getting bleached.  He's not the palest Link, but he’s also not the darkest; I’d place him in the happy middle.  
Realm - His legs are the envy of track runners everywhere.  There is no excess fat anywhere on his body, at all.  He's not a heavily built Link; he’s definitely over in the ‘wiry’ corner, but he is literally all muscle.  Thin muscle, but muscle nonetheless.  He's the only Link who can claim to be truly brunet, and he’s also one of the few who doesn’t have blue eyes (his are also brown.  More of a cream-in-coffee brown though.).  He’s more on the pale end of the complexion scale, seeing as he does spend a lot of time in caves, but he will tan if put in the sun long enough.
Wind - He’s dark.  This boy lives on a tropical island, there’s no way he isn’t.  I don’t care what the game graphics tell me.  Wind has the kind of skin color that could be from an accumulated tan, but also might just be his natural tone.  It makes his very bright blond hair stand out in comparison, because his hair decided to go the sun-bleached route instead of following his skin.  He’s also one of the few who doesn’t have blue eyes - his are actually gray.  They tend to look silver in the sunshine and black in shadow, which means he gets a neat aesthetic, but they never look blue.  He can never get his hair to behave, due to a lifetime of salt and sea breeze, and he’s stronger than he looks.  Wrestling the rigging of a sailboat into submission to cross an ocean is one of those things that requires a lot of upper body strength.
Steam - Probably the least physically inclined of all the Links, because he spends most of his time steering a Train.  He’s bright-yellow-blond, and is the last of the Links to not have blue eyes - like Wind, his are gray.  His gray is a lot darker than Wind’s though, and is much more likely to come off as black unless the light hits it exactly right.  He also doesn’t get a lot of sun, because he tends to stay in his Train or in a workshop, building things for his Train, so he’s definitely on the paler end of the scale.  And he’s got workman hands - calloused in every spot possible and all but immune to getting caught in something.  
Shadow - He’s gray.  Actually gray.  The ashy stuff that a fire leaves behind?  That’s his skin color.  His hair is black, and his eyes are red, but that might change if he feels like it.  He patterned himself to be one of the tallest Links, because of course he did, and he also took a fair bit of muscle mass.  He’s a good candidate for the Dorito Ratio meme.  He is a free shapeshifter though, and this means that literally all of these features are subject to change, especially in accordance with his mood.  If he gets upset enough, he’ll lose focus on his physical form and just sort of dissolve into a hazy mass of black.  He’s also not above shifting his facial features to be more intimidating, such as temporary fangs or opening up six extra eyes.  
Oni - Somehow, he’s managed to be six-foot-three and nobody knows how he did it.  If he were competing, he’d beat Ocarina for being the palest Link, but it’s not because he doesn’t get sun.  He’s actually albino.  He doesn’t have visible irises, or pupils, due to some sort of magic effect that he doesn’t feel like sharing, and the warpaint isn’t actually paint - at least, not anymore.  Again, magic accumulates, and at some point it just became part of his skin.  Also, he might be a god - there’s nothing that says deities have to look normal.  He has a lot of scar tissue, which shows up kinda shiny and silver since his skin is already so pale, and of course he’s ridiculously strong.  Body fat?  He’s never heard of it.  
I have clearly never heard of a ‘reasonable post length’.  And to think, I didn't even get into BotW, Triforce Heroes, Cadence of Hyrule, Hyrule Warriors, OR any of the CDI games-which-shall-not-be-named.  
...I have way too many headcanons.
50 notes · View notes
fmsdraws · 5 years
Text
Metal in the Underground AU: General Info
... So, I’ve had this AU in my mind for about two years now, and I felt the urge to post about it now that I have made a new sprite for it’s Frisk. And since I don’t really plan to make a sprite comic about it, I figured I’d dump the ideas I had here. So you’ll find the information below the cut. 
What’s this AU about? Well, it revolves around a simple question....
What if Frisk was a robot?
That’s right, Metal in the Underground takes a different to most AUs by merely changing the protagonist, and letting the rest of the characters untouched. However, due to the now apparent artificial nature or Frisk, the characters have different reactions, and the way the story unfolds is somewhat different from Undertale’s.
The info you’ll find here is...
-General Backstory -Frisk bio -Changes in the story  -Changes in mechanics
But, I’m sure you’re wondering...
Why is Frisk a robot?
In the year 211X, technology has advanced in a considerable manner, so much so that household robots, and robots in general, are a commonality in this world. Frisk was one of these household units, who lived with a loving family, until their useful life eventually ran its course, and were shipped back to their manufacturer to be dismantled, and their parts reused for future models.
However, a group of scientists was looking for a robot to work with that they could modify for a project they were tasked to do. Since Frisk was the most recent one to arrive, and the one in the best state, they were picked.
What is this “project”?
Several humans had fallen into Mt. Ebott throughout the years, because of this, many protests had arisen from the town living nearby. The gobverment decided to dispatch a team of scientists to develop a robot that was capable enough to at least find whatever happened. Just enough so that the press would stop bothering, anyways. But they also put the team in a tight budget, hence the use of discarded robots.
What was done to Frisk?
When Frisk was brought to the lab, they managed to upgrade them rather well, they got rid of their memories but kept their experiences untouched due to an oversight (they’d know how to deal with something, they just don’t know why), they upgraded their battery life for obvious reasons. They also made their movements more fluid than the standard for their line, making them able to climb out if push came to shove. 
However, they made some rather... questionable choices. Namely, the removal of Frisk’s voice capabilities in favor of a system that would allow the scientists to speak through them should the robot find one of the humans. 
The robot didn’t have memories, anyway. It wouldn’t be able to deal with conflictive situations on their own, right?
How did they end up Underground?
Use your imagination. 
In reality, the robot was told to climb down the hole into the mountain instead of, I don’t know, making them go down safely via ropes or something. The robot lost communication with the scientists as soon as they entered due to the barrier, the wall they were hanging from collapsed, and they promptly fell into the underground.
Thankfully, they landed on a bed of flowers, somewhat cushioning the damage. But still leaving the poor robot stunned for a good while...
What is Frisk like?
Tumblr media
(Note: the eyes do not represent a chara possesion, it is just the color that was set to by their previous owners, and the scientists liked it a lot.)
Name: Frisk (ooc nickname: Mitu) Height: 5′5
Having household been their job in their past “life”, and having retained those experiences, Frisk has a tendency to cling onto people they deem as friendly, and prefer to keep whatever indoors space they’re in tidy and clean. Their lineage of robots also has some special features that in Frisk have remained unchanged. Said features are...
-Alarm clock -Bluetooth sound stereo (hence their headphone-like ears) -Snapshot ability -They can also be patted on the head to get an instant smile from them, which also serves to turn off their alarm.
In general, their line searches affection from their owners. MitU however cannot really connect with monsters due to the fact that they’re, well, monsters. They have a hard time recognizing monsters as people, since they don’t match with their facial scan systems. They can recognize some similarities, such as toriel looking like a goat, but someone like sans they’re lost in even figuring out what he is. 
They’re also somewhat aquaphobic, since they aren’t waterproof. So areas like waterfall are horrendous to go through for them. They can also remain operative even after taking somewhat concerning damage, and even repair themselves provided they’re given the tools (they are not).
All in all, MitU is a kind robot when it comes to humans, they are loyal as a puppy and such. But when it comes to monsters, their morale can be ... bent, depending on their actions during either Genocide or Pacifist routes. (Note: while a genocide route is just about as likely as a pacifist route, a theoretical genocide route is not canon to the AU.)
What changes from the original Undertale story?
For starters, Chara is not present in the story. This is due to the lack of a SOUL on Frisk’s part, meaning they cannot understand certain monsters (Froggits, for example), and they have to guide themselves based on visual aid. They also provide some flavor text themselves. The lack of a SOUL also means that they cannot interact with SAVE files at all, but don’t worry, Flowey the Flower comes to the Rescue!
Mainly for personal amusement, Flowey wants to help Frisk get as far into the underground as possible, and see how they tackle the sheninegans that the underground is filled with. Often times, he’ll give them advice after reloading for anything up ahead. Frisk cannot remember reloads, anyway...
This doesn’t mean that flowey becomes an active partner, he only pops up from time to time to give Frisk advice.
Since Frisk is strictly mute, and has not been taught sign language, they can hardly communicate with Monsters. They try to get their ideas across as clear as possible via pointing and acting, but no one really knows what they’re trying to say. they’re trying their best pls don’t pick on them ;-; As a result, some monsters have different behaviours towards them. 
For instance, Toriel (who is well aware of Frisk being a robot) decides to take the robot with her while she buys her groceries in fear that the robot might not have the best reaction to an encounter. She cooks snail pie, since Frisk can’t have CB pie. They can still take a slice with them for later use, though. 
I envisioned that Toriel has no real reason to stop MitU from leaving, they don’t have a SOUL, anyways, so their death would not mean anything in the long run.
In Snowdin, Frisk tries to play along with Papyrus’ sheninegans to sans’ request. And they succeed for the most part. Sans has seen enough anime to be aware of the fact MitU is a robot, but Papyrus still 100% thinks they’re a human.... Up until he figures it out by himself.
Waterfall goes generally the same, save for the fact that after Frisk falls from the bridge, they’re yet again knocked out cold, and Undyne comes to the dump to... pick them up and bring them to Alphys lab to repair them.
You see, Alphys, like her Undertale counterpart, looks over MitU ever since they step in Snowdin Forest. And she could tell that after the fall they took, they wouldn’t be able to get up. So she called up Undyne to explain the situation, and thus, saved Frisk from eventually being dragged away by the water.
When Frisk is returned back to life, Alphys explains that she rescued them herself, and that there is little to no time to waste. She has to return them to the surface! She also mentions that she modified MitU a bit to suit Hotland’s very unforgiving conditions, plus added a jetpack that comes out of their back. 
MitU also gets to meet Mettaton himself, and they naively agree to do shows with him despite the risk that said shows entail.
And, honestly? Those were basically all the real changes that there are in the main run. Omega Flowey does flow differently due to Frisk lacking a SOUL, but the beats are the same. The Dates don’t vary that much, neither the amalgamates.
In the true pacifist Asriel fight, MitU is able to fully utilize their ACTing skills that they had gained all those years ago with their old family to calm Asriel down. However, in the end, they are destroyed by the final blast that Asriel shoots as his last attack. 
And it is their death that reminds Asriel of the pain he had gone through when Chara passed away while trying to make their plan go through. So he’s quick to undo his wrongs, bring Frisk back, break the barrier, return the souls, and leave to never be seen again. 
Frisk then gets to live with the monsters in the surface from then on. While their scientists do try to take the robot back, to check what they recorded Toriel’s deadly glare guarantees that Frisk shall clean their new home and have fun while doing so for a long while...
What changes in terms of mechanics? (no pun intended)
Frisk has a battery life, as explained earlier, so they need to recharge at several points in the story. It’s indicated via the heart in their chest, which may I add, is also their on/off switch. Their battery drains in turn of how much exploration you make. Note that MitU can and will run out of power in the overworld and in the midst of a fight if you’re not careful.
Tumblr media
The UI is different as well, this was basically a mock up I made a year ago, but it gets the idea across. Their HP is replaced with a damage meter, which the more it grows, the more glitches appear on the UI and on the screen. The battery should be obvious enough.
Tumblr media
And Frisk can also climb up some walls provided they’re colored properly, which can lead to some goodies, or allow them to solve puzzles.
And that would be all of the info I had made. What do you guys think? While I do love the concept of this AU, there was just no driving force to work on anything like a comic for me, plus, I currently work on my other AUs, so my time is already tight as is. 
If anyone has any more questions they’d like answered, I’ll be sure to answer them.
As an addendum: I must ask that people do not RP Mitu!Frisk, steal the few art pieces done for this post, or steal this AU in any shape or form without permission. 
If anyone desires to RP interactions with MitU, I RP them in the Omega Timeline server, along with other characters. It is a highly reccomendable server in my book for any UT fan that likes to RP.
I will also ask that people don’t make a AU wiki entry on this AU, as I may do that myself provided the time is right. 
35 notes · View notes
turtlestanfirst · 5 years
Text
The (fucking incomplete but totally awesome) First Chapter of the Shards Fic!!
basically i’m stuck but i also want to share so yall can read and comment and tell me what yall think about it! Ideas, thoughts, whatever you wanna leave, i need it oof
Leo gazes out over the city in silence. His perch on top of the building is ideal, he gets an excellent view from up here. He can see everything, it seems. Mystic City is rarely quiet at night, and this evening is no different. Yokai walk to and fro below, rushing off to places Leo can only wonder about. And wonder he does. A striped tail swishes back and forth slowly as his eyes follow a man in a worn-looking suit. The man must be going home, the slider realizes.
He wonders if the man is eager to do so.
Leo has come to despise heading home. He loves his family, the one he grew up with and the one comprised of the new people in his life. But ever since Donnie turned on them, going home has become more difficult than he'd like to admit to.
The mere thought of his twin makes his fists clench and his heart twist sharply. He refuses to relive that night in his head, not now, but even then he can't stop the mental image of his purple-clad brother from coming to mind; the anger and hurt in Donnie's eyes still send a shiver down Leo's spine. The slider closes his eyes and forces himself to think about the city, the sounds below him. When he opens them again Donnie’s face is gone from his mind, and he lets out a deep breath. He can't afford to think about his traitor of a brother right now.
The slider calms himself before putting his Ōdachi in its sheath and hopping down easily from the rooftop. He doesn't have time for reminiscing on painful memories. He's supposed to be working.
If this was the human city, he could have been considered reckless for acting as a vigilante. But this is the yokai's city. Leon knows he's being downright stupid.
Leon has too many enemies in high places here, too much at stake to dare show his face in this place. That's why he covers himself with the mask of Night Rogue (he really needs to work on his moniker). He isn't Leonardo, not right now. And that's okay because sometimes, being Leonardo was hard.
Much harder than being a vigilante in a city out to hunt him down.
It's been a mostly quiet patrol tonight, he'd only had to step into a situation once. Part of him is tempted to leave Mystic City for the night and slink around New York until the sun came up.
He reaches the ground gracefully, his feet hitting the asphalt in absolute silence. Hazel eyes scan the area quickly in search of anything out of the ordinary. Two yokai lurk just near the opening of the alley, their faces obscured by the darkness. One of them has horns, he notices- likely a goat of some sort, he assumes. Leon tenses, prepares just in case. A woman passes by and one of the creeps moves after her with lightning speed. Moments after, a sharp yell of protest reached his ears. Leon's lip curls up slightly.
It looked like his patrol would be worthwhile after all.
The woman writhes and struggles against her attacker, attempting to use her antlers as a defense mechanism. While the one holds her, the horned one leans in close and appears to tell her something. She responds with a snarl and a particularly loud “oh, go fuck yourself.”
Leon likes her already.
His movements are quick and quiet as the slider moves in, Ōdachi in hand once again. He clears his throat as he steps into their view.
“Now, that doesn't seem like the right way to speak to a lady,” he chides, clicking his tongue. The one who'd been talking to the girl turns to face Leon with a sneer. He'd been right; this one's a goat, his partner looks like a dog of some sort.
“And this doesn't seem like your business, so fuck off before you get yourself hurt,” the goat snaps. Leon leans on his sword nonchalantly.
“I don't like asking twice. Leave her alone and no one gets hurt.” The dog yokai twists the woman's arm behind her back, forcing her to hiss out in pain. Leon's reaction is immediate. His foot connects with the goat's chest, knocking him back before focusing on the dog, Ōdachi at the ready. The deer yokai in his grasp manages to whack her attacker in the face with her antlers, and Leon can't help but grin under his mask at the surprised shout the other gave. "Listen, Bambi here doesn't seem to be the kind of girl you want to mess with, so why don't you be a good dog and let her go?"
"Bambi?" she repeats incredulously, pausing in her struggle to give him a look. Then her brown eyes are going wide. "Hey, look out!" Leon almost turns to see what she's warning him about, but before he gets the chance he's yelping in pain, clutching at the new gash in his arm. Behind him, the goat grins cruelly, a bloodied blade in hand. Leon snarls.
"You fucking bastard."
"Well, if it ain't the kettle calling the pot black," the goat retorts. Leon lunges forward, the silver of his blade slicing through the air in a flash. It barely catches the goat, but he's satisfied with the small amount of blood he's drawn. His original purpose temporarily forgotten, the slider goes in for another attack, and another, none of them particularly neat but unrivaled in their ferociousity. His next move is a kick, followed by another, and he goes for another attack with the sword, but the goat grabs Leon by the belt and yanks him down, the Ōdachi slipping from his hand in the process. The goat recovers from the shock of the fall first and scrambles to his feet, grabbing the discarded sword as he does. Leon's up moments after, preparing to block an attack, but a loud clang sounds out before the goat gets a chance, and a moment later he's knocked out on the concrete.
The turtle looks from the unconscious figure to the deer now standing in front of him, a metal pipe in her hand. Behind her, Leon notices, the dog yokai is knocked out as well.
"You're, uh, handy with a pipe." He smiles sheepishly under his mask. The deer shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she drops the pipe.
"For a vigilante, you're not particularly good at getting people out of a tough spot," she comments. Leon rubs the back of his neck.
"I'm new at this."
"No you aren't, we've been hearing about you for years. Night Rogue, right?" She scoops up his Ōdachi and hands it over, a frown settling on her face. "Hey, you tried at least. Let me repay you. That gash doesn't look pretty." Leon raised a brow.
"You ever seen a wound that looked pretty?" he questions, taking the Ōdachi back. She doesn't answer, pulling the scarf from around her neck and moving to Leon's side. It makes for a good temporary bandage, and she looks fairly pleased with her handiwork.
"That'll hold it for now. Come on, I'll clean it for you." Her hand wraps around his wrist and before he can protest she's leading him further back into the alley, towards the steps of a fire escape. "You're lucky those goons decided to pull that little stunt next to my apartment, but we are gonna have to do a little climbing." She's starting up the stairs with ease, and Leon hesitates. He should go home and treat the injury on his own. He follows her anyway, because in all truthfulness he hates patching up his own cuts.
"Did you know those guys?" he asks as they go.
"Yeah, they work for my mom." Leon stops again.
"Hang on, they work for your mother?" A level above him already, a head of wild curls peek down at him.
"My mom and I aren't on good terms. She sends someone to harass me every now and again." The slider opens his mouth curiously, decides it's not his place to ask any questions, and closes it again. She answers his unasked question anyway, grinning like it's no big deal. "She's a demon, and a damn strong one at that. But I'm a pacifist like my dad and she wants to change that. It's not working." With that, her head disappears and she's walking again. Leon blinks.
"Wait, you're a demon? I thought you were a deer!" He clambers up the stairs after her and comes to a halt beside her as she opens a window. Her face carries a look of amusement as she glances at him.
"I am, on my dad's side. But I am half-demon which means those guys really couldn't have done me any harm. It was very brave of you to hop in anyway." She smiles and pats his shoulder before slipping into the apartment. When she turns to face him again she's trying to look menacing, but it isn't quite working. "That also means I could definitely obliterate you if I wanted to. But you seem like a chill dude, so you're safe. For now." He's glad he's got the mask on so she can't see the amused grin on his face.
"I'll keep that in mind, o powerful demon lady," he chuckles, following her into the apartment.
"It's Liza," she corrects. "Now pick a chair and sit, I'm gonna grab some supplies." Leon does as he's told, managing to slip off the jacket he'd had on so she could work easier. The mask, he decides, stays on for now. She's back minutes later, arms full of first aid equipment. "I won't lie, this is most likely gonna hurt." She looks a little guilty as she speaks, and Leon gives her a soft look.
"I can take it. Let's get this over with."
59 notes · View notes
xxjayjabbersxx · 5 years
Text
Baking Disasters
Fandom: The Arcana Ships:  Julian Devorak x Self Insert (Jay), Count Lucio x Self Insert (Keri aka @frecklydork )  Rating: Teen
This is Chapter One ONLY To read all 5 chapter please go to my Ao3 (TheJayAgenda) to read. I will be reblogging this post with a link since tumblr hates links in original posts. 
“It was nice of Nadia to let us use the Palace kitchen.” There’s a smile on Jay’s lips. A small huff can be heard from behind them.
“It’s my kitchen too....” A golden arm is folded over another as Lucio pouts, sitting on a stool looking like a child.
“No, it’s not.” The smile never leaves Jay’s lips as they speak. “Death has a funny way of annulling not only marriages, but royalty status, resulting in loss of property ownership.” There’s a nudge to their side and Jay looks down at Keri, who has her cheeks puffed out gently. “Be nice!” She scolds. Jay chuckles softly.
“Sorry, sorry, I’ll play nice”
“You know,” A new voice chimes in from the doorway, “You’re lucky she lets you inside the palace at all.” Julian emerges into the kitchen with a couple of bags from the market. He strolls over and puts the bags on the counter, leaning down to place a kiss on Jay’s temple. They lean gently into it, smiling wider. “The only reason she sort of trusts you,” he says now unpacking the bags, “Is because Keri trusts you-”
“For some reason,” Jay cuts in, looking over the decorations and cookie cutters Julian picked. They hold one up with a quirked eyebrow and a grin “A raven?” Julian swipes it from their hand as they chuckle.
“Yeah and?” He says clutching it to his chest.
“Nothing, nothing.” They continue to look over the others. “Oh, a star! And a heart!? Oh and this ones-” they keep looking over the cutters with Julian in gleeful fascination as Keri makes her way over to the pouting count. With a gentle, hmph, she hoists herself onto the adjacent stool.
Lucio looked over at Keri as she hopped up. He kept his pose for a moment, but as those warm brown eyes gave him a once over, he relaxed a bit, uncrossing his arms. “Can I help you, darling~” He said, almost as a purr. Keri quirked an eyebrow, a smirk playing at her lips.
“And here I thought I was coming over to help you~” she reached forward to place a hand on his, and he would deny to anyone that a heat came over his cheeks as she did so.
“What could I possibly need help with my dear, I’m perfect!” He puffed out his chest to emphasize the point. From the other stool there was a giggle.
“I know you are~” She smiled. Silence settled between them, but just having her by his side was comfort enough to make him feel better (not that he was feeling down by what the other two said, no that's silly, why would you say that, ridiculous, preposterous!). Lucio’s golden arm reached forward to gently caress a loose strand of brunette hair, running his fingers through it with gentle reverence. What beautiful and soft hair she had….
“Hey-” a voice cut through their peaceful silence, and Lucio’s head whipped towards the noise with a small snarl “-Keri, darling, do you wanna handle the sugarcookies or the cupcakes?” Jay paid the count no mind, and behind them Julian was getting the stations ready.
“Oh, uh,” Keri grabbed her now free hair in her own hand and played with it a bit, “I’ll do the cookies!” She hops down from the stool and take a few steps, but when she doesn’t hear footsteps trailing behind her she stop. Twisting her body she looks back to the count. “Well come on!” She smiles invitingly.
“Wha-“ Lucio crosses his arms once more. “Baking is no task for a count!” He turns his face away. “I am merely here to enjoy the spoils of your efforts once everything is done.” His eyes look back at Keri, who merely sighs and smiles.
“Alright then.” She wasn’t about to fight him on it. And besides, it’ll be nice to just spoil him with sweets she baked herself! With a bounce in her step Keri made her way over to the counter to start getting her things ready for the cookies. Lucio watched her, gaze transfixed. The way she walked, the way her hips swayed side to side, the way her hair flowed so gracefully behind her. Gentle steps, soft features, a radiant energy... He was just so enamoured by her.
The two friends now bustled around, starting to throw things together. Julian made his way out of the fray, lingering back, near, but not too close, to Lucio. He leaned against a nearby wall, looking at the two magicians work. Admiration was plastered on his face as he gazed lovingly at them.
Time passed, the room filled with jokes and laughter between the magicians, a comment here from Julian, a remark or two from Lucio. There was a brief bought of silence as they continued to work, Keri now mixing her dough together with determination. Jay leaned back slightly, speaking without actually turning their head. “Hey sunshine?”
“Yes starlight?”
“Can you grab me the flour? I need a little more.”
“For you? Of course my love~” The redhead pushed off from the wall and sauntered over to the cabinet. As he fished around for the flour, a realization seemed to dawn on Keri’s face.
“Oh,” She turned suddenly to look at Lucio, “I almost forgot to put vanilla in here! Can you grab some for me? Pretty please?” She batted her eyelashes at him. Lucio sputtered slightly, face going only kind of red.
“Wha- I… that's no task for a Count!” Keri wilted with a sigh. Before she could make her own way to the cabinet, however, Julian spoke up.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head over it, angel, I’ll get it. Wouldn’t want our ‘precious count’ to strain himself” The sound of stool legs scraping against the floor was heard as Lucio clamors to his feet suddenly.
“No hold on I can totally do it!” He says indignantly making his way over to where Julian was. Julian already had the flour in one hand, and rolled his eyes as he watched Lucio approach.
“Really. It’s fine. You don’t have to-“ he was saying this as he reached into the cabinet for the vanilla, but his hand was quickly slapped away. “Hey!” He said as Lucio snatched up the ingredient. Julian, now irritated, snatched the vanilla back with his free hand. “Stop being a child.”
“You stop!” Lucio whines grabbing it from Julian again. Julian just glowered, going for the vanilla once more, but Lucio was ready this time. He attempted to swipe at Julian but caught the bag of flour instead, and it went everywhere.
At this point, Jay had stopped what they were doing to turn around and watch this disaster unfold. They leaned against the counter, hands braced against it. Keri was also watching, but with more concern over the bickering. The two men just stared at each other for a long time, silent. They looked like they were about to lunge at each other when Jay busted out in laughter. They held their stomach and leaned over, their laughter was obscenely loud. The tension in the air seemed to dissipate, and Keri found herself giggling now. They did look ridiculous.
The boys looked between the magicians and themselves, the anger easing from their face, forming into confusion, and then, amusement. Julian was the first of the two to join in on the laughter, bringing a hand up to cover his face as he leaned back, a chuckle ripping from his throat. Lucio pouted, and started to attempt brushing himself clean. He mumbled under his breath, but with another glance at Julian, and with the laughter filling the kitchen, Lucio, despite himself, started to chuckle.
“I’ll get you for this Devorak!” He said between laughs.
“Get me? I should be the one seeking revenge on you for this showering of flour.” He shook his head out in Lucio’s direction, like a dog. White powder rained down from his head, showering the blonde even more. When he saw Lucio grow irritated, it fueled him, and he reached his hands up to better shake the flour onto the blonde.
Before lucio could retaliate with anything, something went flying across the room, hitting Julian in the cheek with a thwap. All eyes turned in the direction of the projectile, to see Keri standing in a determined stance, spoon in hand. Julian reached up and whipped the offending projectile from his face, giving it a taste. “You threw cake batter at me?”
“..... yes?” She said with a questioning smile.
“Game on!” Julian now rushed towards Keri with the bag of flour. Well, what was left of it anyway. This caused the girl to shriek with laughter as she started running away, dashing across the kitchen. Jay doubled over with laughter now, watching the two run around. They were so caught up in the merriment that they didn’t notice a certain blonde approach them. By the time they saw the figure, it was too late, and an egg came crashing down on their head. Slowly, brown eyes looked up at Lucio, before Jay straightened to their normal height, mischief and revenge gleaming in their eyes.
“Oh, it’s on goat man.” Lucio didn’t stay around to see what Jay grabbed off the counter, but he sure saw the egg flying past his face. His eyes went wide for a second before he chuckled with confidence.
“Have to do better than that, magician!” He was feeling too much pride at dodging their attack to notice the suddenly wet floor. In front of him water had mixed with the flour, and he slipped, flat onto his back with a loud thud. Jay leaned over him, grinning ear to ear, before smacking him square in the chest with an egg.
“Taunting an elemental based magician was one of many, many wrong choices you have made this day.” They brought their arm back, ready to hurl another egg. Just as they released their throw, another body came hurtling into view.
“I’ll protect you my love!” Keri was now strewn across Lucio’s torso, the egg hitting her square in the back. Jay barely had a moment to process this when Julian slipped on the wet floor, crashing into them, sending the last of the flour flying from his hands and into the air. They fell over into a heap on the floor, all four miscreants now wet and covered in flour.
Rolls of laughter filled the air. The noise was so loud, none of them heard the two people enter the room suddenly, until they spoke.
“What have you guys done?” Came Portia’s voice. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips. “And I wasn’t even invited? I’m hurt!” All four heads turned to look at Portia, and embarrassment crossed over all their faces as well when the noticed Nadia was with her. Julian made an attempt to scramble to his feet, but forgot they were in the heart of the wet flour, and fell flat on his back with a solid thwap. Another short moment of silence before laughter erupted through the room again, Nadia even joining in. Jay was the first person who managed to make it to their feet, and they proceeded to help Keri to her’s. Once she was righted, they moved to help Julian, and Keri went and helped Lucio. Once on his feet, the blonde tried to look suave, shooting a look at Nadia.
“Noddy-” he started, but was met with blank stares from almost everyone in the room.
“Silence goatman.” Jay said, grabbing some flour off the nearby counter and showering him in it.
“I will not ask who started this,” the countess spoke. Despite her words, Julian and Jay were already pointing fingers directly at the count, who put a hand to his chest dramatically in offense. “But I believe we should get this, cleaned up, before you continue. I do believe the kitchen has become somewhat of a... safety hazard.” Her gaze was on the floor covered in water, flour, eggs, and other substances she maybe didn’t want to think too much about.
“I’ll cover everything up so you can come back to it.” Portia assured the group. “But, you all look like you could use a bath.”
“Yes, I could not agree more Portia.”
“Oh perfect!” Lucio said with a cheery grin, grasping Keri enthusiastically by the wrist. “Come, we can use the bath in my wing.~” His voice was a purr as he waggled his eyebrows, the brunette going absolutely red in the face. She stuttered for a moment before the count dragged her off down the hall.
Nadia rolled her eyes watching them go. “As for you two disasters,” Jay and Julian swapped exaggeratingly offended glances, grins plastered to their faces, “As always, you are free to use my bath, since I will not need it at the moment.” With rushed thanks the two made their way upstairs, moving so fast they almost ate it on the wet tile once more. Their giggles trailed down the hallway.
7 notes · View notes