#hoping against all odds that they just like my outfits and aren't liking for the thinspo (which i am decidedly NOT) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1000punks · 4 months ago

Text

bonding. ¹⁵//dancing

MASTERLIST.

pairing: spawn!Astarion x named!Tav (non-binary OC)

warnings: 18+. nsft. mdni. the heist chapter! No Smut, Just Plot. blood (not in the sexy way), bondage (also not in the sexy way), implied violence.

word count: 6,591

summary: two gays remodel a house domestic fluff and some character background building, set in post-game baldur's gate. two people who are weird and traumatized work on their relationship and reclaim their sexuality through a shared kink. lots of gooey romantic smut while these two slowly figure out their future together.

named!Tav is my non-binary tiefling ranger, Festé. i was seeing far too few fics with tiefling!Tav and i thought it was crucial, nay, critical to include them in the headcanons. i hope you all enjoy! ♡

header credit: i'm no graphic designer, but i made it!!

Festé sighed, cinching up the top of their pack before setting it aside. They took a cursory look around the room, going through a silent checklist. One hand closed around the inconspicuous stone at their throat. They counted, absently fingering the chain while their eyes fluttered closed. A hand came to rest at the small of their back, and their eyes flew open. The tiefling turned on the spot, already smiling.

"Have we…" A soft chuckle came when they wrapped their arms around his waist. "Affectionate, aren't we, darling?" Festé stretched up to peck his cheek. "Have we got everything?" he murmured, looking over their shoulder.

"Run through it with me," they replied, swaying on the spot and pulling him with them. "Food for me, food for you - me." They chuckled when he sighed harshly. "Light armour. Weapons. Extra blankets for the tent. The map. I packed two bedrolls, but…" Astarion rolled his eyes and laughed out loud at that.

"The stone?" he supplied, and Festé patted their throat. "Clean clothes?" They nodded. "The potions?" They tapped the front of their pack with their foot. "That outfit you wore to bed last week?" Festé laughed this time, and shook their head.

"If you want to bed me in camp, you'll have to make do with my smallclothes, elf."

"I'm just testing you, lover. Checking if you're still listening," he retorted, pinching their cheek. He gave a satisfied nod, casting a glance around the living room. Festé studied his face, squinting at the crease between his eyebrows.

"We don't have to leave until tomorrow. Do you want to help me water the garden before bed, my love?" They smiled up at him, and his eyes flicked back to meet theirs. Ordinarily, he would leave them to work in the garden alone, but today, he took their hand, smiling back. They let him lead them out of the house and into the zodiacal light.

They worked in near-silence, with Festé watching the elf closely as he crouched over the sprouting carrots. His features slowly returned to a placid state, the creases between his eyebrows gradually disappearing. When they put their watering cans down near the back door, the tiefling caught the hem of his shirt in their fingers. He looked down, then into their eyes, a puzzled smile touching his lips. "What is it?" he whispered, grabbing their hand.

"You really love it here, Star. You don't want to leave, do you?" Festé asked, watching him balk almost immediately at the question. He scoffed, tugging them indoors. They followed easily, pressing themself to his side. Their cheek came to rest against his shoulder.

"No," he answered in a small voice, closing the door. "It's… well. It's safe here. We're safe here."

"I know." He glanced down at them, worry creasing his face once more; and Festé reached up, cupping his cheek. "I'm afraid to leave, too," they smiled sadly. "We've faced worse odds than this, that's what I keep telling myself." Astarion gave a heavy sigh, pulling them into a hug. The two stood like that for a long time, until the dawn began to creep through the cracks in the curtains. He broke away first, rubbing over the tiefling's back before retiring to the bedroom. Festé heard the bedframe creak, looking around the room. Silently they moved to snuff the candles, and followed their elf to bed.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · Festé had a fitful sleep, their dreams seeming wholly out of place, even with their current worries. The tiefling startled awake in the early afternoon, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Astarion was in their peripheral, and was already reaching up to lay a cool hand on their forehead. Festé leaned into it, panting softly.

"Your dreams are… strange lately, little love," he whispered after several moments, moving his hand to the back of their neck. They nodded, still breathless.

"You saw what I saw, then?" Festé rasped, moving to lean against him. He obliged, pulling them against his chest. His skin was blissfully cool, and it allowed them to clear their mind, if only slightly.

"Well… snippets." The elf pulled them on top of him, pushing the sheets down before smoothing his hands up their back. "They seem so… vivid." They gave a defeated nod, and he continued. "Have you ever been to that clearing before? Seen those people?" They sighed, shaking their head after a moment; and Astarion hummed. "What about that man? Friend of yours?" The bite of jealousy was clearly present in his tone. Festé pulled away, slowly; and the hurt must have shown on their face because Astarion bit his lip. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I don't know what the dreams are about any more than you do, Star," they murmured, moving off of him and turning to face the hearth. As they began to comb through all of the images they had seen in the past few weeks, their elf nestled himself against their back. They relaxed minutely at his touch, and drifted off again. The dreams continued, with a strangely familiar melody weaving in and out of their consciousness. Late in the evening, their eyes flew open again. An afterimage of a face was imprinted in their memory. A figure with blue hair, a beard and brilliant red eyes had been staring at them intently. Another vampire? Festé sucked in a breath, but their voice died on their lips. They tried again. "Astarion…?" they croaked.

"Mmm?" he answered groggily, pulling them closer by their waist. He sounded half-asleep.

"Star, there's a vampire…"

"Yes, love. And he's tired." The elf nuzzled at the back of their neck, yawning.

"No, look." The tiefling rolled over quickly, concentrating on the face they had seen. It was slipping away already, and they breathed out a desperate sigh. "Please."

His hand found their cheek and Festé felt the gentle push at the corner of their mind. Astarion was searching, slowly. A few moments passed, and he sat up with a vexed huff. "Who is that?" he hissed, mostly to himself it seemed. The tiefling opened their eyes. "Red eyes, blue hair? Gaudy." He tried a lighthearted chuckle, but the crease between his eyebrows was pronounced. He inhaled, and there was a short silence as he looked around. "Darling, you don't think… No, that's… But, we've all been manipulated before."

"Did you see the mirror?" Festé asked quietly.

"A mirror?" he repeated. The tiefling nodded.

"Whoever it was, they were looking into a mirror." Festé paused. "And… I have the strangest feeling of deja vu, I can't shake it." They sighed, glancing at the window. "The sun's going down, though, we have to get-"

"Hello?" A familiar voice interrupted, and Festé and Astarion both looked down at the stone chained around their neck. "Hello?" It said, more insistently. "I know you two can hear me. You should be moving out soon, no?"

Festé laughed, Astarion tutted. "We're getting up now, old lady," they murmured, shaking their head.

"I hope so! You have limited time to travel now, with the amount of daylight. You have to make the most of-"

"Yes, yes. Thank you for the weather report, High Druid," Astarion snapped. There was a distant, ghostly chuckle.

"There's one more thing," Jaheira said, her tone suddenly serious. "We know who the contact is now. Their real name. It's not very important, but she is highly ranked in Daressin's inner circle. Her… right hand, as it were." Festé and Astarion exchanged a look. "A true vampire," Jaheira continued, "That means you two can't arouse suspicion in any way. Minsc and I absolutely cannot be seen with you, talking to you, or helping you. So…" There was a pregnant pause. "If you get into trouble, you have to get out of it on your own. Are we clear?"

"Fine time for her to spring this on us-" Astarion hissed, but Festé waved their hands frantically at him before pressing a finger to their lips. He clamped his mouth shut, fuming in silence.

"We understand, Jaheira," they spoke calmly.

"Good. Check in with me when you make camp for the day. Okay?"

"We will." There was no answer, and Festé brought their hands up to their face slowly, starting to massage their temples. "Star…"

"What?" he snapped.

"You were right. We're walking into a firefight." They met his eyes before turning and walking silently to the dresser. The tiefling picked through their clothes, choosing a loose black tunic and slipping it on, followed by their favourite black leggings.

"That's… Is that all you have to say? This just got about a hundred times more dangerous, we should just forget it." The elf spat. His tone was nearly as venomous as it had been when they first met him. Festé stopped tugging at their leggings, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Forget it?" They said quietly, turning their head and blinking at the elf.

"Yes. This isn't important, it's certainly not worth dying for, is it?" His voice rose when Festé didn't react immediately. "Is some stupid ring worth dying for, Festé?" They didn't answer, getting up slowly and lacing their leggings at their waist. Astarion tried again, lunging forward and grabbing one of their wrists, wrenching it up. "Answer me, Festé. Is it?" He narrowed his eyes at them, breath coming heavy in his self-righteous fury. They looked pointedly down at his hand on their wrist and back at his face, their jaw clenching. He recoiled suddenly, his hand flying to his left temple as he hissed in pain. Festé fought a smirk. Their fury had always been subtle, but it burned like an inferno.

"Seeing you happy, Astarion? To me, that is worth ten of my lives." They brushed past the elf without another word, leaving him blinking and sputtering in their wake as they walked into the living room.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · They had both fallen into an uneasy silence before they had even made it out of the walls of the Lower City, and it had stayed that way for most of the night. It was, by Festé's estimation, two hours before dawn. They walked a little ahead of Astarion, searching for a secluded patch of trees to set up the tent. While they looked, the tiefling noticed him staring, confused.

"We need to make camp soon," they said quietly, even if they were sure he could read their intent in their mind before the words ever formed on their lips. Festé continued to search in silence, with Astarion trailing behind in the shadows. After an hour of walking through the soft underbrush, they found a place that they were satisfied with. It was far out of sight of the road, and it was flat and dry. The tiefling dropped their pack next to a large boulder, laying a hand on it and studying it closely before stretching. Astarion's eyes, they could tell, bore into the back of their head. They shrugged it off, squatting and separating the bundled tent from their pack. A twig cracked and they whirled around. Astarion was gone. Festé turned back to the tent, sighing. The tears came despite themself.

Once they had finished setting up the tent, they took up their small trowel, borrowed from the garden, and dug a firepit. After, of course, muttering thanks to Silvanus. Druid or not, they were respectful of the untouched nature that surrounded them. A soft scuff of leather on grass alerted them to Astarion's return.

"I thought I would gather the firewood," he spoke in a muted, even tone. He gingerly laid the load on the ground next to the pit, and went to get Festé's cookware and wrapped sausage from their pack. "You were crying," he said flatly when he squatted next to them. "It's my fault." He didn't say anything else just yet, and Festé continued to dig the pit. They arranged the sticks into a small pyramid over a pile of dead leaves, poking their fingers in at the base and watching the fire crackle to life slowly. Astarion spoke up again, barely audible. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, darling."

"It's fine, love, I-" the tiefling started, their fingers twitching as they rested their hand next to the firepit.

"It's not." He sighed, reaching out and snatching their hand away from the fire altogether. "Don't you dare," he hissed, eyes narrowing. He pulled them closer to his side gently, his tone softening. "Unfortunately, my dear; when you're quiet, your thoughts are quite loud. You've been brooding for hours."

Festé gave him an acid look, standing up with a scoff. It was unsettling for them to be the one being studied. They tapped at the stone around their neck, and it began to glow. "We're here," they murmured.

A short silence followed, with Astarion glowering at them the entire time. "…Good, we're where we need to be. I have contacts where you are. They will watch the shadows; and make sure that you are not disturbed during the day." Another short silence. "Get some rest, you two."

"I haven't been brooding, Star. I've been upset." Festé hissed when the stone ceased to glow. "You implying that we shouldn't go this far for something that will make you happy… That your happiness is worthless? My life is a proverbial drop in the bucket, but you're going to live for centuries, Star. At least let me help you find something to make it better while I'm still here."

He sighed, and tapped his temple with one fingertip. "I know, that's why I'm apologizing, little love." Festé's mouth hung open for a brief moment, then they shut it with a sharp click of their teeth. "Are you embarrassed, my dear?" He pressed, a teasing edge to his voice. It had them blushing, much to their chagrin; their anger all but forgotten. "Can you appreciate my frustration now, from back then? With you being the first person to have truly seen me in two hundred years?" The elf stood too, raising his eyebrows and looking down at them.

"Yes," Festé answered in a small voice.

"Is all forgiven, then?" Astarion prompted.

"Yes," they repeated, sighing and moving into his arms. He kissed the top of their head.

"Good. Make yourself some sausage, and I'll see to making the tent comfortable."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · The same dream assaulted Festé in the late hours of the afternoon; and they tossed and turned fitfully. The eyes were a deeper burgundy this time, pupils blown wide. An unsettling hunger gnawed at their middle, and tore at their chest. The figure in the mirror began to pant softly, lifting hands to their cheeks before shaking their head rapidly; dipping their hands into a basin of cool water and splashing it on their face. Festé's vision went black when the figure closed their eyes. Their eyes, came a realization from deep within their subconscious. They startled when their eyes opened and there was a second figure in their field of view, appearing next to their elbow. It was a pale, beautiful younger elf, with matching red eyes. The young elf turned their face upward, smiling as they pushed a gourd into view. The blue-haired figure glanced down, then back up at their reflection. They snapped up the gourd with an appreciative grunt at the slosh of the liquid inside, and began to drink. It sated them instantly, calming the burn licking its way up their throat. Too soon, the gourd was empty, and they set it down with a hollow thud, licking their lips.

Festé shot up like a bolt, recognizing the coppery aftertaste. Blood.

"They're not spawn," they mouthed silently, glancing down at Astarion's unmoving form still pressed to their side. "So what are they?" They felt delirious, and pulled the collar of their shirt up to mop the sweat on their forehead. Astarion didn't stir, even when they reached across him to pick up the waterskin. They drank as greedily as the dream figure had, emptying it in a matter of moments. Then, they pushed the figure from their mind entirely as they got up and left the tent to make themself dinner.

Astarion rose like clockwork once night had fallen, emerging from the tent as he tugged his shirt on, lacing it up absently. Festé looked up, starting to gather the contents of their pack. He gave them a crooked smile and sauntered over, kissing their cheek before kicking dirt over the remaining embers of the fire. He was still facing away from them when he asked innocently, "Darling, did you have a pleasant dream?" Festé cursed silently as they began to break down the tent, folding the extra blankets and stowing them away.

"I didn't, no." Their tone was flat.

"Are you sure? All that blood looked simply… Well." He let out a hearty chuckle before he turned and saw their face. He pursed his lips, grimacing a bit and sighing out in pain.

"I'm scared, Star. I don't know what this is." The tiefling shook their head slowly. Hopefully this wouldn't affect them moving forward. No, they corrected themself. They wouldn't let it affect them. There were more important things to worry about right now. Festé looked up, and Astarion was hovering next to them, concern marring his features. "It's okay. I… We need to get moving, my love."

It was less than an hour before the two were on the move once more, chasing the final streaks of light across the horizon. They emerged from the outskirts of the Cloakwood at twilight, and Festé noted Astarion looking up at the stars as they gradually revealed themselves. They heard his quiet and wistful sigh when he turned his gaze to the last sliver of the moon. The tiefling reached for his hand when he paused in the tall grasses.

"When we're travelling back, imagine how good the sunlight will feel," they whispered. He glanced down, and they tried to smile. "When it kisses your cheeks and the back of your neck." The elf shook his head once, and the two continued, hand in hand. Festé led their elf southwest, and they were sure to keep off the road in case they were met with strange travellers. A few hours in, they began to strategize, running over the plans for the next night. When they drew closer to the coast, Festé began to search for shallow juts in the rock to set up camp. Astarion pointed out a grotto, and the tiefling nodded in approval before throwing their pack down. The two set up camp in comfortable silence, building a fire at the small cavern's mouth. The waves breaking nearby, while evoking a sense of calm, didn't do much to drown out the din of the city.

"I didn't realize we were so close already," Astarion remarked. "It sounds like Candlekeep is right on top of us."

"It's just the way that the sound travels over the stone. You know, I once heard that if the wind blows the wrong way in the Lower City, you can hear the birds screeching in Moonshae." Festé replied softly, stoking the fire.

"How far away are we?" The elf asked. They looked up and caught the strange look of excitement on his face, juxtaposing his nonchalant tone.

"Still a league or more," Festé shifted closer against his side. "We won't have to worry about meeting anyone down here, at least." The elf nodded slowly, wrapping an arm around them.

"It makes me wonder what Baldur's Gate sounds like from far away. I'd like to hear that for myself." The comment hung in the air for some time as they both settled in to watch the fire. Festé only remembered cool lips on their forehead sometime near dawn, but they woke hours later in the tent with their face pressed to their elf's chest. No nightmares had plagued them, for the first time in days.

"Having a lie-in, darling?" Festé felt Astarion's voice rumbling in his chest, and he stroked through their hair. "We have to go soon, get up," he cooed softly. The tiefling nodded, pausing to peck at the elf's lips before slipping out of the tent to start packing. They drew a breath, taking in the scent of the recently-warm earth, and guessing that they had about two hours to get to the rendezvous point. They took another breath to steel themself. The plan was foolproof, right?

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · Festé couldn't help but stare in awe once they had entered the city gates. Candlekeep had always been beautiful to them. A sharp intake of breath from behind their left shoulder let them know that Astarion felt similarly.

"Only one way in and out," he muttered from the side of his mouth, taking a step closer to the tiefling. "Best watch our steps, love." Festé turned halfway to glance at him. The disguise was convincing enough. The only thing that gave Astarion away was his voice and lithe movements. They nodded once, peering up the road and squinting slightly, before moving at a steady pace.

"Shadowheart and Gale did a good job with that scroll," they muttered back, lips barely moving. And they had, Astarion had barely needed to unroll the scroll in question before it enveloped him in a purple mist. He emerged moments later, coughing and sputtering, doubled over. The elf lifted his head and was, in a word, unrecognizable. Festé gaped at him for a full thirty heartbeats before breaking out in peals of laughter. Astarion's new tail had flicked back and forth testily, and he had asked in a sheepish voice…

"Gods, do you ever get used to the horns? They're so-"

"Heavy, I know. You asked already, and I said I've always had them, love." Festé shushed him then, flicking two fingers forward to bring Astarion's attention to the crowd ahead. "Your part is coming up. Can you smell them from here?"

He drew in a slow breath, nodding awkwardly with the added weight on his brow. "The dark haired one is the ringleader, it looks like. Stay here." He shot them a look that planted them in place next to a folded-down awning. His excitement was palatable, and he grinned subtly, stalking off. The tiefling spotted Nine-Fingers, with Jaheira and Minsc further behind her. All of them were dressed in unassuming brown travelling cloaks; and kept their eyes forward as they exited the building far to Festé's left. They watched as the representatives of the Guild met up with the waiting convoy, following eventually in the shadows when all parties began to move towards the inner gate.

"Shit," they hissed quietly, darting after them from a distance before stopping short, watching Nine-Fingers gesture angrily to the tavern and shrug. Festé focused on the dark-haired figure that Astarion had pointed out, who simply crossed their arms and smirked at the Guild leader. Nine-Fingers pointed again to the tavern before showing her palms to the figure. She let out a hearty but insidious laugh before shrugging again. The dark-haired figure snapped their fingers twice. Their colleagues - spawn, Festé had to assume - formed a tight circle that broke into a point, marching off to the tavern as Nine-Fingers turned in the same direction. Festé could see a small chest carried between two of the spawn in the middle. They, all eight of the spawn, looked calm and disciplined. It was a far cry, certainly, from the body language of Astarion's siblings. What caught them by surprise was the dark-haired figure turning eerily to face their exact position; and the tiefling darted into the cramped alley to their left, narrowly avoiding detection. They lowered themself on their belly, only able to see fine boots on the cobbles from the new vantage point. Among them was a too-familiar pair of worn leather boots, and the tiefling grinned widely. You're in, they thought as firmly as they could, now come back to me in one piece. They heard the heavy doors of the tavern closing before feeling a boot against their shoulder.

"What are you doing down there?" A lilting voice came from above them, and they rolled over, looking up into a face that was oddly familiar. "Well, you came scumbling back here after last time, haven't you? You, my fiery friend, are in a pile of shite."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · Astarion sat at the bar, pretending to sip at an ale while he concentrated on the several new sets of footfalls behind him. He felt an odd twinge of dread, but it was quiet at the corner of his mind. They had bigger problems for the moment, he decided with a sigh. He listened intently while the heavy trunk was set down on a table nearby, tilting his head at the squeaking as the wood groaned under the weight of the metal. What in the Hells was he going to do, surrounded like this? If he used a potion, he would be sniffed out in a heartbeat. He certainly couldn't take on eight spawn by himself, not to mention a true vampire. Astarion scoffed internally, feeling a familiar twist of jealousy. He was effectively overpowered.

"There, now that we're all gathered," he heard Nine-Fingers start in her gravelly voice, but she stopped short, and a different person started speaking.

"Dear Underduke," they said, and Astarion could hear the distinct melody of a liquid being swirled around slowly in a wine glass. The new speaker took a long drink before continuing. "We'll make this very quick. My colleagues have brought the gold, and you have brought what we seek." Their voice was sharp and cold, but clear. Like ice, the elf thought.

"Correct." Nine-Fingers replied in an even tone. "You want to take it out for a test run, I presume?" There was a shift in a wooden chair, and a rustle of fabric, and Astarion guessed she had leaned back and crossed her arms.

"Naturally. But if you'll direct your eyes to the window, you'll see that there is still quite some time before dawn graces us. What to do, Underduke? Shall I hold you hostage until daylight?" Astarion shifted in his own seat, newfound tail brushing against the floor. The sultry undertone of the words made him uncomfortable.

"Shall we get comfortable, then?" A heavily accented voice cut in. Jaheira.

A low chuckle came from the vampire. "I wouldn't mind a night of rest after my long journey. However, my employer has made it explicitly clear," Astarion imagined their eyes narrowing, "that time is of the essence." They snapped their fingers, and he heard hurried footsteps above the calm chatter elsewhere in the tavern. "Safaen here will take the product, and stand still." Gods, that sounded like a threat. Astarion swallowed. "Fortunately, we have a dear friend here to assist us." Another snap of their fingers had someone else rising from a chair.

"Interesting," Nine-Fingers crowed. "Jaheira, would you be so kind?" Astarion pretended to take another sip of ale while he listened: the velvet of a small box caught subtly against the grain of a table as it was slid by the druid into, presumably, the spawn's waiting hands.

"Take all of the spawn outside," he noted the derision in the vampire's tone when they said 'spawn,' and he gritted his teeth for a moment. "We'll see how they fare." Eight pairs of footfalls followed a heavier set outside, and the doors closed behind them. Astarion heard nothing for several moments, then suddenly what was unmistakably a blast of radiant energy. He froze, cold, when he heard the screams of agony. A few beats of silence followed, then the vampire chuckled again.

"Diplomatic immunity has its uses, wouldn't you say… Underduke?" Their voice was muffled, as if they had casually lain fingers over their lips to cover their amusement. Like a petulant schoolchild, Astarion thought. He admired their callousness, but he would be damned if he were ever on the receiving end of it. Nine-Fingers remained silent, but he could still hear the grinding of her teeth. A few more beats passed before the door opened once more. Only two sets of footfalls re-entered the tavern, and the vampire hummed in approval.

"Well, I suppose that's as much assurance as you need, isn't it?" Nine-Fingers finally spoke up, clapping her hands together. Her chair scraped the ground when she stood up, walking a short distance. Astarion saw his opportunity when he quickly glanced over his shoulder. He stood, grabbing the book that lay open before him, turning in time to see Nine-Fingers taking a nondescript box from a heavily armoured half-orc. The spawn beside him cowered as he raised a gauntlet-clad hand to take it. Astarion was already on the move, beelining to bump into Nine-Fingers from behind. Both of them went tumbling over to the worn wooden floor, and the Guildmaster let out a hiss of frustration. Astarion summoned his best snivelling voice and got up on all fours.

"I'm s-s-so s-sorry, miss…!" he whimpered as she got up, scowling down at him. He threw up his hands to shield his face when she raised one of hers, and swallowed the bile that rose up from the muscle memory. There was no time for this right now, he had to keep it together.

"Clumsy oaf," Nine-Fingers growled, "Give that here!" Astarion reached down with appropriately shaking hands, snatching up the fallen box and handing it to her. He peeked over his arm at the rogue, and saw her eyes soften minutely before she tore it out of his hands. "Get up, you blubbering hellspawn, and get out of here."

"A-at once!" he squeaked, scrambling to his feet and grabbing the heavy book, hurrying away with a flick of his tail and pausing to struggle with the heavy door. He had to make it believable. The vampire's voice was soft as he finally slipped outside.

"So nice to see you still have bite, Underduke. Now, where were we…" Astarion dodged around the bodies of the fallen spawn, feeling more than a little nauseated when he saw their frozen masks of horror.

"Better you than me, you little shits," he muttered, looking up and down the courtyard. Where was Festé? He made his way to the place that he had left their side, inhaling slowly. His hands started to shake, genuinely this time, when he smelled blood. Fresh blood.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · Festé grimaced up at the woman, mouth set in a defiant line. Their bloody nose was quickly soaking the collar of their robes, and they let out a sigh. The woman closed the book she was poring over and raised her eyebrows at the tiefling. They narrowed their eyes.

"You can make this easy, you know. If you talk." She turned halfway and dropped the book on the desk behind her.

"Not without my lawyer," they replied, shifting in the wooden chair and flexing their arms. "This is getting old," they added under their breath, considering the rope binding their wrists. She must have done it while they were knocked out.

The woman ignored them. "It says in our records that you've had a warrant for the past five years, care to explain why?" Festé rolled their eyes. Of course, they knew why: Caeusan hadn't paid off the right people, clearly. Of course, their past life was coming back to haunt them. Regardless, they were racking their brain. What job was it? The tiefling kept their features carefully composed while the woman continued to talk. Maybe she would drop them a hint. When she paused to stare at them, they merely shrugged.

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. May I leave now?" Festé murmured.

The woman gave a short bark of laughter. "You don't remember stealing an…" she lifted the book once more and leafed through it. "'Anciente Mysteries of the Vampyr', do you?" She looked over the book at them once more. "Likely you were just the grunt in the whole operation anyway, weren't you? More likely you're the one to take the fall for a bigger player, hmm?" Festé snorted and shook their head.

"Haven't heard of it," was their clipped reply; but they had most definitely heard of it. They remembered the night perfectly: it was moonless just like this one. The stakeout had gone off without a hitch, and the heist was perfect. Not a soul had noticed them waltz out of the library-fortress. It hadn't been until they were at the front gates that the problems had started. Oh, Festé remembered the night, certainly. It was the night they had broken their collarbone. Had they been in different company, they would have scowled at the memory - as well as everything that had come after, of course. For now, they wondered with renewed interest who would have hired Caeusan to steal a book about vampires.

"Alright, tiefling. I know you're lying. And I'm going to tell you my name so that you know who to be haunted by when you're rotting in the cells. They call me Isolde, and I'm the one that got saddled with your bounty."

They couldn't help it, especially with their hands free of the ropes but still cleverly hidden. The smart mouth went hand in hand with their ability to slip a simple knot. "Well. That makes sense, doesn't it; as you're a half-elf pretending to be full-blooded. Again, I ask, may I leave?" This elicited nothing but a snort from the woman, and Festé's thoughts strayed momentarily as she crossed her arms. Hadn't Gale mentioned something like this in his journal? A specific tome going missing?

Isolde came very close to them, suddenly; so close that if the tiefling wanted to, they could have counted the freckles littering her cheeks and forehead. "I can put you where the guards cannot, hellspawn. Mark my words on that." It would seem that they had struck a nerve, then. Excellent. "If you don't want to play by the rules, then neither will I. I only need to turn you over still breathing, after all." Isolde drew a long dagger from a sheath on her thigh, and Festé's eyes flicked over to it. It looked eerily like Caeusan's dagger, they mused. Perhaps the local authorities wouldn't mind if a mercenary died under their jurisdiction, then. They could always hire another.

A soft tap came from the corner of the room that the half-elf didn't seem to hear. Festé's expression betrayed no indication that they had, either. They drew a slow breath, keeping their eyes locked on the woman's until two pale hands crept around her throat. Then, when she jerked back, they shot up from their seat and headbutted her. Astarion sidestepped when she fell backwards, knocked out cold. Festé kicked the dagger away from her and sent it skating across the wooden floor.

"It took you long enough to find me, love," they murmured, glancing up at him. He simply scoffed, grabbing their hand tightly and turning on his heel.

"This isn't the time for playful banter, Festé!" he hissed, snatching up their sword and spare dagger from the desk when he dragged them past it. "We don't have long before the courtyard fills up again, trust me on that." He wasn't wrong, they had to concede, as he pushed them ahead and out of the window in the corner. His tiefling disguise had all but dissipated.

"Well I didn't realize I still had a bounty on my head. If I-" Astarion had followed them out the window and quickly clapped a hand over their mouth.

"Silence. Save it for when we get to camp," he breathed into their ear. "Which way out?" Festé grabbed his hand this time, and they began to run, keeping to the shadows. They reached a large offset stone in the wall's masonry. The elf looked around slowly while the tiefling sat down, pushing at it with both feet. A hole opened up in the cobbles under the wall, and they motioned for him to follow before they slipped inside. He bit back a complaint and scrambled after them.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · Astarion couldn't help but feel claustrophobic as he darted after the tiefling. They led him effortlessly through what seemed to be endless twists and turns, even having to hug the rocky walls in some places. He didn't dare speak until they did; until he knew that they felt that they were both safe.

"Do you smell that? The salt? We're getting close." Their voice never rose above a soft mutter, and yet it seemed to reverberate off the surrounding stone as if it were a thunderclap.

"Yes," a beat, then, "Do you even know where we are?" he hissed tersely.

"I know," they grunted, stopping at a rocky face directly in front of them. A dead end. "I know precisely where we are." They pushed at the stone wall, and it gave way much too easily. Festé turned briefly to smile at him before stepping out into the mouth of a small grotto. A very familiar grotto, with a beach beyond.

"Clever imp," the elf grinned back. "But why not tell me?" He stepped out with them. Thankfully, it was still the night sky that greeted them both, for the time being.

"I couldn't risk it, in case we got separated," they replied simply, starting up the sloping footpath back towards the Cloakwood with the elf in tow. "Nor could I risk banking on it as our only escape route." They looked back at him, and he felt their surprise at his confused expression. "I told you, I've been here before." The tiefling looked away quickly, doubling their pace.

"Darling…" he murmured, but they shook their head subtly. The elf felt his way into their thoughts instead. Silently, they ran through everything they had seen and heard. Astarion reached out blindly for their hand, bewildered. He drew breath to say something after a moment, but Festé shushed him.

"Wait until we camp, love." Gods, this was frustrating, as it had been for weeks. If only the spell had worked properly, they could communicate non-verbally. He looked around, regardless, making sure Festé hadn't spotted something he had missed. They both fell into an anxious silence as they walked, for the better part of an hour, through the tall grasses. It seemed to evaporate slightly when the two found tree cover once more. "Here we are," the tiefling gestured to a dark figure several dozen feet off. The figure moved, lifting one hand towards the sky, before a ring of light illuminated the space around them.

Shadowheart. Thank Selûne for small mercies, Astarion supposed. They drew closer, and caught sight of Gale walking a perimeter with his nose buried in a book. Shadowheart motioned toward them, and he heard her call his name. He looked up and began to wave animatedly. They both waved again, together, smiling. That's when it sank in. They were both alive. The next sunrise could be his to enjoy; his first in over a year.

"Festé," Astarion whispered.

"Mm?" They turned to him, and smiled when they saw his own.

"I owe you," then, "But don't make me admit the same to them." He pointed at their companions in the distance.

They laughed together, more out of relief than anything else. There was still a lot to discuss. But, he thought, they could have one moment.

And then everything under the sun.

a/n:

holy fuck this took a long time for me to come back around to! thank you for waiting so patiently and for supporting this fic if you've made it all the way down here! as always, you know where to find more bloodfire action (the masterlist at the top of this post) and i can't wait to share the next installment with you!

this is what the unnamed true vampire looks like, btw:

next time: sunlight by hozier plays in the distance

#.fic #fic: bonding.#otp: bloodfire #oc: festé #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion acunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #spawn!astarion x named!tav #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x oc #spawn!astarion x oc

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ampedupkaon · 3 months ago

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August Writing Challenge Day 12: Meliodas/Elizabeth

AN: This one happens right after the bit in the destroyed Boar Hat Tavern between Meliodas and Elizabeth.

She'd thought he was dead. She couldn't believe it when he'd appeared and saved her from the two demons who were attacking. He'd pushed the Commandments back and they'd ran, tails between their legs. They had no Boar Hat to return to at the end of the day though. That had been smashed by a demon's punch hitting Hawk Mama. Which meant... creeping back to her room with him. Her father wouldn't approve of her sleeping with Meliodas, of that Elizabeth was certain.

“So... what you thinking about?” The blonde asked her with a cheeky grin.

“We... Are you tired Sir Meliodas?” She asked him. She felt exhausted, not just physically but mentally as well. She'd had too many close calls today. And then there had been the thing with Fraudrin. The look in his eye; one of purest joy at having caused that. The look totally at odds with how he was looking at her now. He yawned dramatically.

“Yep. Is that you asking to sleep with me?” Elizabeth squeaked before nodding. They'd slept together before, Meliodas wrapped in masses of rope so he couldn't move or touch her. She wanted him to touch her, to hold her. She wanted to hold him too, feel his hearts beating against her chest.

“How naughty! The princess is asking me to sleep with her!” She squealed, because that wasn't what she was meaning at all.

“Take me to bed Elizabeth. I will. My hands and my tongue are sinful.” Her cheeks had to be crimson, she was sure of that. She didn't want to know! She started walking towards her room, hoping that no one saw her, or if they did see her they didn't tell her father. She closed the door, Meliodas grinning at the sight.

“I don't have any bed clothes, you know. Want me naked?” Elizabeth shuddered. She... she had saw it. Once. Completely by accident. She hadn't been expecting him to be bathing in the river and to be climbing out right as she'd walked into the clearing. She'd saw the dangly thing that only men had. That didn't mean she wanted him in close quarters with her when he had no clothes on. At least... before they got married... She squealed. If they got married!

“Is that a yes? You are being naughty, aren't you!”

“N-No! Someone will get the wrong idea!” Meliodas giggled, before smiling at her.

“Then... how about this?” He removed his top, muscled chest free to admire. And admire it she did for a moment, before nodding at him.

“Your turn. Better find a nightgown to change into.” He had a wicked grin; Elizabeth realised he was going to watch her change into it. She was a little nervous of that, but also knew that she could do it. Just face the other way while she did it. She dragged out a sky blue one which had short puff sleeves and stopped just above her knees. It also would give him a peek at her chest if she leaned down. Her skirt found the floor and he whistled.

“Nice! Gonna show me the top half too?” His eyes were obviously on her pink panties. She was nervous of doing this, of taking off her top while he could see. And she'd froze, too scared by the thought.

“Elizabeth. I promise I won't peek. If I take a look at your bare boobies you have my permission to literally kick my butt out of the door. Because the temptation is strong; you're lovely.” She blushed but watched him close his eyes, cover them and turn his back. She waited a moment, before taking her top off as quickly as she could. There was a brief moment where she expected him to come and handle her bare breasts but it never came. She dragged her nightie over her head.

“You can look now.” She told him. He was admiring her, before coming over and having a feel of her breasts, peeking under the bottom of the nightgown. Like he did whenever she changed her outfit.

“Very nice, very snuggly.” He nodded, making his way over to bed. He scrambled in, gesturing for her to follow him. She did, looking around as though expecting Hawk to come over and separate them. She climbed in to bed, Meliodas wrapping his arms and legs around her like the clingy octopus he was. His head was snuggled up to her breasts, of course.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” She asked, confused as to why he'd be thanking her.

“Letting me stay with you tonight. And for not giving up on me.” She nodded, ruffling his hair. He giggled into her breasts.

“Sweet dreams Elizabeth.” He got comfortable and closed his eyes.

“Sweet dreams Sir Meliodas.” She got comfortable and opened her mouth to say something else. The words caught in her throat, like they normally did. She closed her eyes, sleep finding her quicker than it had for the entire time he'd been missing. She'd swear she heard him mutter something right before she dozed off to sleep.

AN: The Hawk wrapping Meliodas in rope and telling him off comes in the morning, when he looks for Elizabeth to tell her something and finds the two of them in bed together.

#seven deadly sins #nanatsu no taizai #meliodas #nnt elizabeth

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nicklesbam · 2 years ago

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Promise part 2

gore, swearing

Y/n made sure to close the blinds and move the desk in front of the door after locking it. She looked to the blonde man and he was loosening screws on the vent above us

"What are you doing?" She spoke. He looked to her for a second

"Plan B in case it gets through" y/n nodded. She looked down in thought for a minute

"If it finds us, we die right?" He looked to her with an amused smirk

"Wow, so you figured it out. This your first game?" He questioned still working on the screws

"Yeah. I was on my way to the hospital when everyone disappeared" he nodded and looked back at her

She looked around, thinking for a second. She suddenly walked towards the desk and started pushing. She struggled a bit but got it moving towards the door

"You gonna help or just sit here and look pretty?" She remarked to the blonde man. He smirked

He moved from his spot and took a spot beside her. He helped her push the desk against the door. She guessed he didn't exactly work out before all this but he did help at least. She smiled at him

"Thank you" and he nodded in return. Our phones went off

'The game will now commence. The time limit is 40 minutes. Commence now.'

Y/n took a deep breath and sat against the wall on the floor. She stared at the camera's hoping that whatever 'it' was stayed away from them. She took another deep breath to calm herself down

The blonde man observed her carefully. How could she devise a whole plan, figure out what the risk of the game was, and find the perfect spot to hide but be so scared and anxious at the same time. The look on y/n's face remained stoic most of the time but it's cracking a little

It wasn't until she noticed the man staring that she fixed it. She took one final deep breath before speaking

"Anxiety. Deep breaths help me sometimes" she said while her gaze remained on the camera's. He nodded

"Your doctor tell you that?" He joked though his face and voice remain monotone

"Actually my therapist" she retorted smiling, it may be small but it's genuine. He hasn't seen a genuine smile in a while

"Since we're stuck here for the next 37 minutes, what's your name?" She asked turning to face him. He was leaning on the wall where he can see the camera's still

"Why would I tell you?" He mused. She lightly scoffed and smiled

"Secretive are we? Fine, I'll go first. I'm y/n, nice to meet you" she said while holding her hand out. He chuckled a bit before shaking her hand

"Chishiya" she nodded

"You're a doctor, aren't you?" She asked tilting her head to the side a bit. He smirked again, surprised she figured it out

"How'd you guess?" He leaned back against the wall. She smiled and pointed to his hand

"Your hand. You use precise movements and they're very soft, not calloused" he had sharp eyes, not angry but suspicious

"You worked in the medical field? A nurse?" He asked. Usually he doesn't bother to get to know his opponents or fellow players but she was just so inviting and persuasive

"Yeah I did. That was actually why I was on my way over to the hospital. I had to cover another shift" she spoke tiredly. He nodded remembering his intern days when he would almost never get any sleep

"Any advice for a future nurse?" She mused. He chuckled shortly

"I wouldn't be the one to help you with that" she nodded understanding that they don't have the same jobs

Suddenly they heard shots. Y/n flinched at the sudden noise and looked to the surveillance camera. It was someone in a clown costume

"Odd choice for an outfit but ok" she murmured out loud. Y/n and Chishiya were on the 3rd level of the mall, the highest level. 'It' was on the 1st floor. They were checking in every room

They watched at it found a girl in a frozen yogurt shop and shot her dead. Y/n had to calm herself down, she closed her eyes and took three deep breaths

When she opened her eyes again she saw a person running across one of the camera feeds

"What are they doing? They're gonna get killed if they keep moving like that" y/n thought outloud

"Looks like another one's about to bite it like they always do" y/n turned to him with a glare

"These are people we're talking about, not animals" after she said that he chuckled

"Oh you have no idea" she brushed the comment off and turned back to the feed. A girl just got found in a clothing store. She tried to run but bullets are faster, she got shot down. Y/n looked away to the floor

"He's coming to our level" he spoke out. Y/n got up and turned the lights out. She got low on the floor again trying to be as quiet as possible. Suddenly the speakers to the mall went off

'Ten minutes left'

They could hear the person get more frustrated and scared. They watch the monitors as they check all stores and rooms on the level. Soon all that was left was the security office

Y/n turned to chishiya and signaled to the vent, he nodded. They quietly get up and walk over to the chair under the vent, before y/n climbs up she walks over to the weapons area and grabs a taser and gun

She handed the gun to chishiya but he nodded no and pointed to the taser. She almost laughed at how lucky he was but nodded and handed him the taser

Suddenly they heard the knob to the door try to open. Y/n turned to chishiya and pushed him to the chair, urging him to hurry up and climb in the vent. He had to use his upper body strength to lift himself into the vent

As he was struggling to get in, the door was shot at. They hit the knob and the door would've opened right up if it weren't for the desk in the way. Chishiya finally pushed himself all the way in and it was y/n's turn

The door made a banging sound as it tried to stomp on the door to open it faster

"Well isn't this just great."

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foxolotlfreak · 5 months ago

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home away from home

chapter two

colorful city

I blink the nightmares out of my head as i hit the ground on the other side of the rift

“Oh first master” is all i catch before being face to face with a young man around my age, his orange outfit matches the old photos of ninja gi’s in our history textbooks, with plate armor on his shoulder and head more similar to a kingambit’s.

“You ok? That looked like a hard fall '' I nod as I pick myself up from the ground with one hand and pull out the high range walkie talkie from my bag.

“Celeste to home base. I've made it over and” i look out to the sea of buildings not unlike levincia back home

“It looks like a mildly advanced city. Over "I spin to see the rift, its closing. Someone is shooting at it with a bright green beam. I look to the source of said beam and see a young man in a green gi, his hood down to reveal blonde hair in a short ponytail.

Colors pour out from my steps as I run over to him, that's my way home, and given the context I'm sure he’s why it was unstable. “Stop. please, that's my way home "I barrel into his side and the green stops pouring from his hands while we fall onto the ground.

To late

It closed

I'm stuck

“Kid, what are you” it was then i noticed my bright trail from here to where my bag lay open on the ground. Oh gods, even my clothes looked splotched. I look down at the man as color seeps into his gi. That's odd the colors seemed purposeful, blacks golds and purples danced in the cloth.

“It's not supposed to do that” I sputtered as I climbed off the blonde. A gold shimmering symbol appeared on his right shoulder pad. I start to apologize and tell him I can fix it but he just gets up without a word.

“Are you an elemental master?” a what. Guess my face gave away that i'm not from here, if everything else didn't. I mumble about being a demigod and blah blah small talk while I grab my bag.

“So you're a demigod of, what colors?” I nod as I pull out the delicately carved pokeball I put Miri in for the transport. I let zer out getting me some strange and amazed looks from who i now know as lloyd the skinny blonde in green, and arin the only slightly shorter black haired teen in orange.

“Miri travel mode please, im starting to think we’re gonna be here a while” the bright leds in zer neck, legs, and tail dim and fade to conserve energy.

“So, I'm guessing you're going to need a place to stay- uhm, what's your name? '' Arin removed his horned hood to fully reveal his short black afro whilst talking to me.

“Celeste. My name is Celeste, and yes I would love to stay with you all. Especially given I'm gonna need to fix your sensei’s gi at some point” a word waterfall spilled out faster than i had hoped as i rambled about how my powers aren't normally that intricate, answering a few questions about my life and home.

“Sensei is a demigod too you know” earned poor Arin a god damn it look from said sensei, but he just kept talking and talking about lloyds family history. He ended up talking about something called an oni “a creature of destruction and darkness” he called them.

“Oni sound similar to my worlds ‘abyssal’, the soul stripped husks of an ancient race of people who worshiped the night” the look on lloyds face showed that he had thoughts he wasn't ready to say, while Arin got comfortable on the mat i had set out for us all to sit on. I ramble on about my world for a while as Arin listens intently. Asking questions every few sentences.

I get to talking about my family and bring up star. my shapeshifting older sister. And Lloyd seems more interested now, I'm starting to think he doesn't know much about his heritage.

Arin says that he heard shapeshifting was like having a bunch of forms that are all just you in different bodies, which i explained was wrong

“Each form can have a mind of its own, but they tend to work together for the better of their main form. If you neglect one of those minds or arceus forbid try to cage it, it will start to work against you to gain control.” Arin seemed fascinated and looked like he could listen forever. But lloyd looked like he had an epiphany and an anxiety attack at the same time, he gestured for us to pack up and follow him

I gather the blanket up and stuff it back in my pack and explain it would be faster if we went on Miri while Lloyd gave directions. I received a head nod and off we went, i asked lloyd a few questions about power and if we could fashion a charge adapter so Miri could charge. He confirmed there was a good chance we could get something set up when we got to their home.

Their city was beautiful even from the outskirts we traveled on. It was bright and colorful like the flames of a flareon at the color festival, and the night sky was a dance of auroras that remind me of the night I made my first journey to town to see the stellaris lights last year. A sign of perfect harvest to them, but a sign our mother was thinking of us to me and vincent.

“Do you mind if I go to sleep?” I get some odd looks but Lloyd and Arin seem to trust Miri to listen. I shut my eyes and lay back on the seat.

I think this is going to be a nice adventure mom.

I reach my hand up to my necklace and feel all the carvings.

I'll tell you all about it soon mama, when you come home i'll tell you everything ive seen.

…

Goodnight

#prophecies rebel #ninjago #impossible balance #home away from home #sorry for the kinda sad ending lol

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alias-sam · 11 months ago

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Pierced by a Golden Soul

Chapter 28. Close Encounter

Platonic Jojo's x Reader

Summary: Fate is a bizarre concept with countless more bizarre implications. In life sometimes such extraordinary events happen that the only reasoning left must be fate. The tragedies that constantly befall the Joestar bloodline for example may be the unluckiest series of cards drawn in human history, or perhaps the work of a greater power. There is no way to tell for sure. Had Dio Brando or Jonathan Joestar moved slightly on a divergent path the world itself would be left very different. The fate or luck of the noble Joestar bloodline has led to destruction of evil likes of the Pillar Men and DIO. This story is of a similar caliber to that of the other Joestars (as I am sure you are familiar with them). This is a story of lost souls, compassion, hope, and above all fate.

Word Count: 1,411

(Crosspost from Wattpad, full fic is already posted there.)

"Are you really sure about this Y/n?"

"Of course I am." You said, Tim was walking behind you on the way to the back of the school. "Besides, if you're scared you can always just leave." You offered.

"No, I'm definitely staying." Tim's expression hardened. Really, you weren't a big fan of him tagging along. Even if he said he wasn't scared, you could sense he was nervous. You glanced back to look at Tim.

"Remind me again why you brought that along?" For some reason Tim was lugging his guitar along with him.

"I'm your backup, aren't I? With luck, I won't have to use it."

"Okay?" You muttered, still confused. "Are you sure Learco will be here?" You asked as you neared the back of the school. Hesitantly, you took out your stand. Through the wall you spotted four auras, all of which you could tell belonged to stand users. You recognized three of them.

"Y/n?" Tim asked. You quickly motioned for him to stay quiet, and then waved for him to keep following you. Carefully, the two of you snuck to the corner and stopped when you could hear the murmur of conversation. You carefully poked your head past the wall to survey the situation. First, you noticed Learco leaned against a dumpster, it was somewhat surreal to see him in the flesh. He looked tired, and maybe a little irritated as the others seemed to be interrogating him.

"I already told you!" He yelled, his short temper just as prominent as always. "I don't remember what happened." Learco scowled and averted his gaze from the group.

"What can you remember?" Blaze sighed with a steely expression. He had a few crudely applied bandages stuck onto his face, arms, and leg. If you had to guess, this group didn't have any kind of healer among them. Even if it wasn't helpful in the moment, you could probably take advantage of it in the future.

"I don't know..." Learco trailed off, looking at his older brother helplessly. "I was going after the girl like planned, and then my memory kind of goes black. Then I woke up in the hospital."

"That doesn't help us." The third person said sternly. It had been a while since you had seen him. There was no doubt in your mind, it was the guy with the toy soldier stand. He attacked you in your own home from the street a while ago. It was dark then, but there was no mistaking his voice, it was very distinct with a bit of an accent. This was your first time seeing his face, but he was exactly how Tim had described him. He was blonde, tall, and wearing an odd black outfit you had never seen before. It almost looked like a uniform of some kind. The fourth and final person was wearing something very similar. He was the only one you didn't recognize. "You almost lost the arrow during that little stunt. You're lucky Jones didn't take it."

"Oh don't start with that again!" Blaze groaned. "If you see Y/n as so much of a threat, take them out yourself, or better yet, have him do it." Blaze pointed over to the boy you didn't recognize. "I don't see why you have us to do everything when you have him."

You kept eavesdropping in on the conversation with your stand activated, and it was a good thing you did. As Blaze and the blonde guy started arguing, you sensed something small near your foot. You glanced down to find a very familiar toy soldier sneaking around underfoot. There was no time to react before the compact stand jumped onto Tim's sneaker. It pulled out what looked like a tactical knife and started stabbing it into your friend's ankle. Tim gave a surprised and pained yelp. You immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late.

"Did you guys hear something?" Learco asked, already moving towards where you were hiding.

"Let's get out of here." You whispered. "Before-"You couldn't finish your sentence because Quiet Riot had slithered its way over to you. The stand extended it's tentacle like straight jacket straps your way.

"They found us!" Tim screamed.

"Yeah, I noticed." You sighed, having Golden Soul knock away Quiet Riot as it tried to attack. "Run!" You yelled, grabbing Tim's arm. The two of you made a brake for the front gate. As you sprinted, you both heard a low seismic noise. You glanced back to find the unknown fourth person was chasing. He was using his stand, it reached out in front of itself with its right hand and scraped at the air. Every time it did so, the stand, and user, got closer. Not far behind was Quiet Riot. Tim slowed down slightly and turned around.

"Y/n! Get behind me!" He yelled; Radio Star already perched on his shoulder. You didn't have the time to hesitate and just trusted he had a plan. "Cover your ears!" Tim held his guitar in front of himself and strummed down hard. A loud and harsh power chord erupted from the instrument, despite it not being plugged into anything. You remembered Tim mentioning his power related to waves, and not just technology or electricity like you originally thought.

The enemy stand user was knocked back by the powerful and deafening soundwave.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins; you heard your heart beating in your ears because of how tightly you were covering them. You looked around; the front gate was way too far away with how fast the enemy was gaining on you. Nearby, you spotted a chain-link fence that separated the school from a bordering forestland. Quickly, you summoned Golden Soul. Your stand grabbed the fence, and with some difficulty, you managed to rip the thin metal apart, making a hole. As the enemies were slowly getting their bearings, you gripped the back of Tim's shirt and dragged him through the fence behind you.

While the sound of yelling and cursing faded away, you and Tim dodged and dipped past trees. After a few minutes of nonstop running, Tim begged to stop. He leaned tiredly against a tree while trying to catch his breath. You weren't nearly as winded, but then again, you weren't lugging an instrument around.

"That." Tim heaved through shallow breaths. "Did not go well."

"I'll say." You muttered, scanning the surrounding area with your stand. Your assailants were far enough away you couldn't sense them with Golden Soul. "Are you okay?" You asked, moving to Tim's side. His foot was bleeding slightly, but other than that he seemed fine.

"I will be." Tim replied. "I wasn't prepared for so much cardio." Tim glanced around at your surroundings before focusing on you. "You do know how to get out of here.... right?"

..............................................

A breeze passed through the trees as you and Tim trudged through the forest. Your friend had gotten extremely tired, so you decided to carry his guitar for him on your back. Tim Buggles, while an intimidating stand user, was not the athletic type. You had never had the time to work out, but still managed to keep up a bit of muscle, you always attributed it to moving heavy ingredients for Senora Jones.

"Hopefully." You said, breaking the long silence between the two of you. "We'll end up close to the condos near the beach."

"You think those guys will keep following us?" Tim asked quietly.

"Not if we keep moving." You shrugged. "My ability can also help with making sure nobody tails is." The two of you continued walking until Tim jumped and grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to stop your stride.

"Did you hear that?!" He whisper-shouted.

"Hear what?" You whispered back, summoning your stand. "I don't sense anything big around here, just some squirrels and bugs and stuff." Despite your attempt at reassuring him, Tim still gazed around at the forest worriedly. "What are you hearing exactly?"

"I don't know...its like a squelching." Tim answered. "You don't hear it?" You closed your eyes and tried to listen past the sound of birds and windswept leaves. Just as Tim had described it, there was a faint squishing sound emanating from the forest around you.

"Now that you mention it, yeah, kind of."

"What the hell is that?" Tim asked. The two of you immediately lined up back-to-back, looking for whatever was hiding in the green scenery.

"I'm not sure but lets get out of here." You felt the ground under your foot shift slightly. "I don't have a good feeling about sticking around."

1 note · View note

shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Note

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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clonewarslover55 · 3 years ago

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congrats on sticking with the writing for a year! I love reading your stuff and can't wait to see what you put out in the future.

If your still taking requests can I have a bad batch x reader (you can pick which catcher it is) where they aren't together but like each other and have to pretend to be parents to omega to get out of trouble?

(I hope that makes sense. If it doesn't or it doesn't appeal to you, it's alright. I'm just a sucker for Star Wars Dads like the batch and Din😆)

Thanks!

Pretending to be Omega's parents with Hunter

Hunter X GenderNeutral!Reader

Thank you so much anon!! And yes, this makes perfect sense!! I really loved this request actually!

Notes: I chose Hunter because he is the main dad of the group! Also the reader is gender neutral!

Warnings: Spoilers for the Bad Batch, reader has known them for years so this fits together better(established relationship), Reader and Hunter have some mutual pinning going on ;)

You had worked with the Bad Batch throughout most of the Clone Wars, and they considered you a trustworthy assaset. Of course you were a low life like many others in the galaxy.

You worked odd jobs to make ends meet. From Bounty Hunter to smuggler, you had done it all. The Bad Batch loved you and all that you did, especially when you helped them on jobs or with their ship.

Once the war ended you were making good money off of many jobs, well until some certain clones came knocking on your door. You couldn’t say no to your boys, so you willingly welcomed them back into your life.

Now you were on the run with them; your future career in odd jobs possibly went down the drain now that the Empire was on your ass as well. But oh was it fun working with them again. Sadly Crosshair was left behind and now a slave to the Empire instead of the Republic. You’d miss the grouchy bastard. You’d help your boys get him back soon though.

Since the last time you saw them, the Bad Batch had also gained a new member. A sweet little blonde girl named Omega. She was absolutely adorable, and Hunter had clearly adopted her in his head. He’d do anything for that kid.

It was precious. And it only made your attraction to him grow.

You had always liked Hunter a bit more than the others…..In a different way as well. You believed the feeling was mutual. Well, you hoped it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*The Havoc Marauder,(The Bad Batch’s ship), Space.*

Currently you are sitting in the ship, Omega sitting in your lap. You were telling her a story about some Bounty Job you had done a few years back. It was an incredible story, and of course you were the badass in it.

You exaggerated the story a bit, and Hunter clearly noticed. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, Hunter looking at you with a knowing smirk. You winked at him before turning your full attention back to Omega.

Her eyes were wide as she listened with great interest. Every now and then she’d interrupt you with a question. She was extremely curious, but still a sweetheart.

“We’re nearly there. The market town is rather large but we could still be noticed. The Empire clearly has a hold on the city.” Tech spoke, glancing at everyone in the ship. “The only way in is with disguises.”

You sat down Omega, “We’ll finish the story later.” You whispered, winking at the young girl. She grinned widely, winking back.

Wrecker laughed from the back, setting down the Gonk droid. “Yeah! Our armor does stand out huh?!” He punched Echo’s shoulder, Echo winching and glaring at his brother. You grinned at the boys.

“Oh I have an idea for Hunter and you.” Tech looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Tech knew you and Hunter had been pinning after one another for some time, neither of you making a move. So he’d make the move for you both.

You could nearly read their minds at this point. So you knew just what he had in mind. You glared at Tech, “Bastard.” You mouthed, Tech shrugging his shoulders. Hunter raised his eyebrows, glancing at you both.

“What?” Hunter asked, crossing his arms as he stood up from his seat.

“You two go in, wearing civilian clothes of course. Take Omega…..and pretend to be her parents. No one would have any idea who you are. You’d just be a couple out with their child, shopping the day away.” Hunter glanced at you, something alight in his dark eyes.

“I love this idea!!” Omega chirped, grinning widely at you and Hunter. “We’d be a good family!!” Tech and Echo smirked at you and Hunter. Wrecker looked as oblivious as Omega, but still just as happy.

You smiled nervously at Hunter who merely nodded his head. “Fine.” You spoke as you stood up, walking into the back to change your clothes. Hunter patted Tech’s shoulder as passed him, following you.

Tech grinned at the others once you and Hunter left the room. Omega even knew what was going on. A perfect plan to get you two to hook up!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*The surface of the planet, the ship docks of the market town*

You walked off the ship, your hand holding Omega’s much smaller one. You, Omega, and Hunter were in similar civilian clothes, looking like an average couple with their daughter.

Echo followed with Tech, Wrecker staying on the ship as backup and as a guard. You grinned at their civilian clothes. Echo looked droid like and Tech was in some ugly outfit. Poor Tech looked uncomfortable while Hunter looked extremely comfortable.

“Alright. Separate ways, we grab what we need and bounce.” Hunter spoke, his firm voice making you pay great attention to him. You stared at his lips as he explained the plan.

“Everyone got it?” You nodded even though you hadn’t really listened…..His lips and handsome face were just that distracting. Tech and Echo left first, swiftly disappearing within the crowd of people.

“Alright then. Come on.” Hunter grabbed Omega’s free hand, leading you and her into the market town crowd.

You gently squeezed Omega's hand, “Have that list memorized sweetie?” You questioned, your voice sweet and dripping with honey. Omega grinned at the nickname, nodding eagerly. “Yup!” Hunter smiled back at his “daughter” and you, a soft look in his dark eyes.

About halfway through your little shopping spree Omega paused, looking at a toy cart. You smiled and pulled away from your “husband.” You led Omega to the cart, holding her tiny hand still. Hunter sighed, following you both.

She picked up a toy clone trooper, looking back at you and Hunter with puppy dog eyes. “How can I say no to that?!” You grinned, tossing the vendor the correct amount of credits.

“You spoil her.” Hunter spoke, putting his arm around you. You shrug, “So do you.” Hunter glared at you playfully, the vendor smiling at you both. “Perhaps.” Hunter spoke, leading you away by your waist; Omega followed, one hand holding Hunter’s and the other holding her new toy.

Once you two had all the goods you stopped, out of the way of the crowd of course. “We do make a decent couple don’t we?” You whispered quietly, Hunter’s face inches from yours so he could hear you.

Hunter nodded, Omega ignoring you both as she watched the crowd pass. “We should do this more often shouldn’t we?” He spoke, teasingly brushing his nose against yours. Your face got hot, a wide smile coming onto your face.

“Yes we should.” You whispered, your eyes flicking to his lips. Hunter smirked, finally connecting his lips with yours.

The wonderful kiss was interrupted by Omega screaming, “Ew!!! Tech! Echo! They’re kissing!!!!” You busted out laughing as she screamed over the comms. Hunter clearly died a little bit, hiding his face in your neck.

You laughed harder when you heard the laughing replies. “We’ll never live this down will we?” Hunter questioned. You shrugged, “I hope not.” You muttered, pressing your lips to his once again.

Tags: @leias-left-hair-bun @catsnkooks @azem-thefourteenth @colorfulloverbatturkey @blueberrybubblesandboba @ahsokatano-thetogruta @jedi-mando @peacefulwizardfox @hounding-around @julyzaa @feathersforclones @chr0nicbackpain @fyrepen33 @mistflyer1102 @kamino-mermaid @cherry-cokes-posts @cherry-cokes-world @darmanfi @silverinkandstardust @chewychewyque @majorshiraharu @ravenpuff01 @808tsuika @meabravo @daffodin @commanderrivercc-3628 @captainrexstan @girlvader @ct7567329 @just-some-girl-92 @marvel-starwars-nerd @valkyrieofthehighfae @my-awakened-ghost @mackstrut @katethecrazy @lightning-wolffe @dominhoe-squad @qui-gon-jinn-and-tonic

Want to join my taglist? The link is on my materlist!!

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #clone force 99 #bad batch spoilers #bad batch #sergeant hunter #tech #wrecker #echo #arc trooper echo #crosshair #omega #hunter x reader

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ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

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HELLO RAY! I have a sorta cute image prompt for you to possibly do? Idk it's cute to me so ima just day it, it's a Sam x Reader. Now they aren't together in it but actually get together in it, so basically we all know Sam has adopted Tommy at this point, but what if the Reader did the same thing *gasp*! Sort like a mother figure? But anyway, it's clear that Sam and the reader like each other but are awkward about it because reasons, so Tommy does as Tommy does and becomes WingmanInnit and attempts to get the two together, with out actually saying to either of them that's what he's doing. Thank you for doing this if you do💙💙💙 have a good day or night, make sure to eat/drink/take your meds, and have a good nap you deserve it!

HELLO FRIEND! I’m so sorry this took so long to write but I really hope you enjoy it nonetheless!! This is a fem! reader because reader is referred to as “a mother figure” but you can honestly just pretend it’s “parental figure” and make it gender neutral!

Honey Barbecue-Awesamedude

You first met Tommy while you were walking the Prime Path back to your home from a trip to gather a specific type of wood. You quite literally crashed into the boy because he was so beaten up and disoriented that he didn’t even notice you and ran right into you. Your hands immediately reach up and grab onto the younger boy’s upper arms to stabilize him. “Tommy?” His bright blue eyes meet yours and you can tell he’s pretty out of it. “Okay kiddo, let’s get you to my house huh?”

With a little bit of struggle, you manage to get Tommy into your home and into your bed. Once his head hits your pillows, he’s out cold. You carefully clean him up and patch up his wounds before setting a glass of water by his bed and leaving him in the room.

Tommy doesn’t come out of the room until around sundown. He’s yawning, but he looks so confused but when his eyes meet yours, everything seems to come back to him. He gets this really sheepish look on his face and he rubs the back of his neck. “Hey… Sorry about earlier. Thanks for taking care of me.”

You give him a bright smile and nod, “Of course, Tommy. There’s no need to be sorry. It’s something anyone would do. Now come sit down. Dinner is almost ready.” Tommy hesitates for only a moment before seeming to get a whiff of whatever it is you’re cooking and making his way to the table and seating himself.

You force Tommy to stay the night at your house. It was getting really late and you didn’t want to run the risk of him getting into more trouble and hurting himself even further. He left once daybreak came, but that wouldn’t the last time he’d be spending the night at your house.

After that day, you kind of became like a mother figure to Mr. Tommy. You were always there for him and he always had a place in your home. You were one of the only people that was always on Tommy’s side no matter what and was able to remember that he was a liter child that needed to be taken care of. There was only one other person in the entire SMP that looked after Tommy like you did… And Tommy believed that you two would make a perfect couple.

You and Sam were the only ones that looked out for Tommy for no other reason than to look after him. You two had kind of become the young boy’s unofficial parents. Yes, Tommy had his own house, but most nights he could be found in either your’s or Sam’s house.

You and Sam knew each other, of course you knew each other. You two interacted sometimes but most of your conversations were about Tommy. Even with your limited conversations, you both quickly caught feelings for each other. The mutual care over Tommy was something you bonded over as well as, Tommy definitely doesn’t stop talking about you. You both had fallen for each other through your shared love of the boy that you considered your son, but also his words that he spoke about the two of you.

It would have been impossible not to fall in love with him.

However, it almost would be more impossible to tell him that you were in love with him.

And the same goes for him. Sam had feelings for you, but there was no way in hell he would ever tell you that.

This doesn’t make your feelings for each other any less obvious to one Mr. Tommyinnit. Contrary to popular belief, Tommy isn’t stupid. He’s very smart and very observant and he could tell almost instantly that the two of you clicked and that you two had developed feelings for each other. But it was also very obvious that you two knew of your feelings, but refused to acknowledge them.

He was going to fix that.

Sam had informed Tommy that he had made a nice steak dinner for supper that night and that he really would love it to have company over to share it with. Tommy saw this as the perfect opportunity to push you two together. Tommy told you that Sam had invited you two over for dinner that night and you believed him. So you dressed up in a cute outfit and at 10 minutes till, you and Tommy headed over to Sam’s place.

Sam was very surprised to find you standing at his door with Tommy, but it was a very pleasant surprise and one that he welcomed. Sam moved out of the way of the doorway and allowed you inside. You turned back around to face him and Tommy and found an odd sight. Tommy was still standing outside, staring down at his communicator. “Everything alright Tommy?” You ask, a little concerned as to who he was messaging.

Tommy’s head snaps up and meets your eyes, a small smirk forms on his face as he speaks. “Oh yeah. I’m fine… Tubbo not so much. I have to go help him. I don’t know how long it will take. Go ahead and eat without me.”

Not realizing what he was doing, you jumped in, “Oh! Is he okay? Do we need to come help?”

“No, no, no, no. It’s fine. He’ll be fine. You two being there will probably just embarrass him. Seriously, enjoy your time together,” Tommy tells the two of you before turning and running away.

Sam knows what the child had just pulled, you not so much. Sam could only glare after the boy but once he turns around his eyes find your frame, they soften. “Should we follow him? I know he said it’s fine but I don’t want--”

“Y/N. It’s Tommy and Tubbo. They’ll be fine. If not, they have their communicators. But if you want to leave, I would completely under--” “No! No. I want to be here… with you.”

There was a beat of awkward silence before Sam cleared his throat and held out his hand to you. “Well in that case, may I?” You carefully reach your hand out and let him grab it. He gingerly leads you through his house and to his kitchen table where he carefully guides you to sit down in a chair before pushing you in. He walks over to the counter and picks up two plates that he prepared right before the knock on the door and sits one down in front of you before sitting himself down with the other one.

“I hope everything tastes okay. I’m not the best chef but I wanted to do something nice for once,” Sam tells you sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but your face. Even though he’s not looking at you, you offer him a sweet smile and a laugh.

“I’m sure it will taste great Sam,” you assure the creeper hybrid as you pick up your fork and knife. Sam copies your motions and gives you a big smile and together you begin to dig into the meal.

The food tastes great. Sam really undersold himself, and you were sure to let him know. You complimented his cooking over and over as you two dined and chatted. It was really cute to watch his freckles light up as a form of blush to coat his cheeks under your heavy praise. A lot of the time all he could manage to get out in response was a small “thank you.”

The conversation flowed naturally between you two as you discovered you had a lot more in common than just caring for Tommy. You two talked about what you did for work and what you did for fun. Some of the conversation revolved around Tommy, but not a whole lot. You mostly used your experience with Tommy as a way to jump from on topic to another.

You two continue to talk even after you’re done eating. You help Sam clean up, despite his protests, and you two take a seat on his couch and talk for a while more. You two snap out of your conversation when one of the redstone clocks he’d made chimes loudly letting the two of you know that it was now 10pm (2200). You’re both shocked about how late it had gotten, and although you wanted to keep talking, you knew you should probably get home.

Sam, ever the gentleman, offers to walk you home, and you still wanting to be able to spend a little more time with him, you accept. Together, the two of you walk back to your house. Sam has his sword just in case but no mobs bother you. You two get to your front door sooner than you would have liked. The two of you stop and turn toward each other in front of your door.

“Well… This is me,” you state after a few moments of silence.

“This is you… I had a really nice time tonight Y/N… Would we be able to do this again sometime?”

A wide smile spreads across your face as you nod a little frantically, “Yeah. Yeah, I would love that.”

There are a few more moments of silence before Sam takes a deep breath and then blurts out, “Can I kiss you?”

You’re surprised at the question, but you find yourself giving him a small nod. Sam seems a little shocked at your answer, but his hand comes up and cups the side of your face and he ever so slowly leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You immediately melt into him, your hands finding their way onto his chest and slowly dragging up onto his shoulders and you pull him a little bit closer to you. His other hand finds itself on your waist, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss.

The kiss ends too soon for your taste, but you also know that if it didn’t end when it did, you’re not sure it would have ever ended. Sam gives you a soft smile after pulling away. He carefully removes his hands from your body, you doing the same.

“Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Sam.”

You stand there, back pressed against your front door, watching after him until he was no longer in your eyesight. You let out a small dreamy sigh before turning around and letting yourself into your own house.

You are immediately startled by the presence of a teenage boy sitting in your kitchen, gorging himself on what looks like some chicken wings. “What the heck are you doing here? Is everything okay? Is Tubbo okay?” You ramble out as you rush further into the kitchen, placing yourself between beside him, your eyes scanning over his body, making sure that he’s okay.

Tommy just rolls his eyes and laughs, “Tubbo’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine. I just needed a place to eat my wings. Wings for a wingman. I’d say I’m a pretty successful wingman?”

It was then that it hit you. Tubbo never really needed help with anything. Tommy didn’t leave you two alone to help Tubbo. He had set you up. Tommy had forced you and Sam to be alone together because he knew that this would happen. That the two of you would fall deeper and in turn would admit that you had feelings for one another…. This sneaky, meddling kid.

You wanted to be mad. You really did. But you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at the boy for giving you the opportunity to go out on a date with the man you had been crushing on for many weeks now. So instead of taking the time to scold him, you instead opted to playfully push Tommy’s head before snatching a wing from his plate.

Tommy opened his mouth to complain but fell silent at the sight of your playful glare. “Now, I will be taking this honey barbeque wing and will be heading off to bed. Clean up after yourself and get to sleep soon. Goodnight kiddo.” Tommy gives you a small smile and a nod before wishing you goodnight as well. You turn on your heel and walk out of the room toward your bedroom. But right before you were about to exit, you stop and turn back around.

“Hey Tommy?” You call, drawing his attention to you. You give him a soft smile before raising the wing you had taken from his plate. “Thank you for being our wingman.” And with that you turn on your heel once more and continue on your way to your room. Even though he’s a sneaky, meddling kid, you couldn’t help but be very thankful for the boy that had brought you and Sam close together… You’ll have to make sure he’s the best man at the wedding.

#mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt drabble #mcyt one shot #awesamdude x reader #awesamdude imagine #awesamdude one shot #awesamdude drabble #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit imagine #tommyinnit one shot #tommyinnit drabble #ray-ray-writings #honey barbeque #anon #requested

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baronesscmd · 4 years ago

Text

@anubis-005 has graciously allowed me to continue writing her sinfully delightful Nene’s Inferno Au, so I bring you the next installment. I hope you enjoy, and thank you. And go check out all her artwork; its absolutely amazing and deserves all the love!

AH! DISCLAIMER! CONTAINS SCENES OF SEXUAL INNUENDO/REFERENCES/SITUATIONS!

He dropped himself to the ground, pulling her flush against him. One hand curled around her arm as the other caught her chin, bringing her gaze directly to the smoldering golden stare that was attempting to burn her alive.

Nene's face flushed as he leaned in, tongue flicking over the sharp fangs in his mouth as he tipped his head so the heat of his words brushed against her lips.

"You won't be needing those clothes."

“EXCUSE ME?!!”

Nene felt her pulse stutter and pick up double-time as the demon leaned closer, claws pricking at the soft curve of her cheeks as her whole body burned from his implications. She tried to push away, tried to get as much space between her and the demon before her; he wasn’t having it. The hand on her arm slid around her waist, pinning her tight against his chest as he smirked.

“Oh yes, my sweet little Angel; that uniform just has to go.”

She felt those claws curl into her sash and tug, and before she could even make a sound, before she could try and push herself away; he moved. His hand slid from her waist to cup her bottom and squeeze, and she shrieked as he hauled her up and over his shoulder.

He spun on his heel, whistling as he headed deeper into the maze as she tried to get loose. Nene beat her fists against his back and kicked her legs, trying to ignore the sharp curve of his shoulder as it pressed into her belly.

Harder to ignore was the hand hooked around her knees, and the thumb that was making tiny circles against her thigh. Worse than that though, was the hand still on her butt. She struggled harder, flushing as he patted the soft curve of her cheeks.

"PUT ME DOWN! AND DONT TOUCH ME!"

Nene let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a scream as the demon chucked, pinching her as he nipped at her hip through the fabric of her dress.

"My my, aren't you a feisty one! You'll be great fun. I can already tell. But you have to behave, my Angel, or your new Master will punish you.

"And while I can guarantee you will not enjoy it, I shall have a delightful time."

She continued to struggle against him until the band around her finger began to burn. She yelped and folded, her chin bouncing into his back as she curled her hands together.

It hurt, more than anything she had ever experienced. Like something was trying to claw at her soul, to tear her open and lay her bare. She watched through her tears as the demon's tail looped around her wrists, and as suddenly as the pain had come on, it vanished.

"Ah, fun little bit about that Bond, my Angel."

She stiffened in his grasp as he drew a claw down her thigh before his fingers crept back up to pinch her.

"You cannot disobey me."

Cold stole through Nene's limbs and she went still and silent. The demon laughed, the echo of it reverberating through her own chest in a hollow imitation of joy. The tail squeezed her wrists, and she swallowed back her tears.

Beneath them, the grassy maze gave way to cobblestones, and she planted her hands against the small of his back as he spun around.

"Welcome to your new home, Angel."

Nene lifted her head, biting back a gasp at the palace before her; she had not expected something so elegant of a design in Hell. It rose from a tangle of wild roses like a crouching beast, sweeping up into the skyline like nothing she had seen.

In Heaven, the buildings had been white, and gold and silver-toned. It had felt like walking through a dream, with open shutters and friendly hellos as she passed. This was quite the opposite.

This was a nightmare of brick, wood, bone, and glass. Shadows hung from the twisted black iron of the balconies like discarded clothes, the stained glass depicting demons in different throes of lust.

Ivy twisted it's way up the cracks of the black stones, twisting around marble statues carved in obscene positions. She averted her eyes as they passed a set of skeletons, entwined together, forever frozen in the moment of completion.

And the arch of the grand doorway, before the demon carrying her turned on his heel to march her under it, was carved in stark white bone with the twisted limbs and slack faces of those who had given in to the Sin of Lust.

The inside was as hauntingly beautiful as the exterior, with dark walls and black marble floors. Golden lamps spilled light in fleeting puddles, and Nene saw more than one alcove with the entwined forms of sated bodies.

He hauled her through the dining hall, whispers rising as the few demons who happened to be awake caught sight of them. Painted mouths disappeared behind razor-tipped nails as she knew they began to gossip, and more than one pair of hungry, hooded eyes raked over her form, leaving her feeling filthy.

Nene tried to remember the twists and turns he took so she could attempt an escape, but when they passed the same low table with a couple half-concealed beneath it again, she knew he had purposely misled her.

Each path was more confusing than the last, some with high, vaulted ceilings that the light could not illuminate, and others with low curving beams that pulled the shadows close enough to touch.

And the paintings! Nene could look nowhere and find a patch of wall that was not hung with obscenities. Even what she assumed were flowers, painted in soft brush strokes, resembled a part of her own anatomy that the demon's hand was much too close to.

He took them down a long hallway, the doors at the beginning doing little to conceal the moans and cries of the pleasure-seekers within. She flushed and tried to raise her hands to cover her ears to block out the sounds, but the tail held her fast.

They turned again, and this hallway was silent but for the echo of his footsteps. His hand stroked from the curve of her waist to the back of her knee before he kicked a door open.

Nene watched with increasing panic as the heavy wooden doors fell shut behind them, lock sliding into place as her heart sank. She was trapped, completely and utterly.

She had no time to admire the room, richly decorated in swathes of black and red satin as the demon fisted his hand in the back of her dress and dumped her onto a bed.

It took her a second, as she was consumed by tangled scarlet silk and plush pillows as dark as a raven's wing, that she was not in just any bedroom, tumbled onto a sinfully soft bed.

Nene was sprawled across the sheets in the bed that belonged to the Lord of Lust, locked in this den of depravity and debauchery.

She watched with horror as he set a knee to the bed and dragged her closer, pinning her beneath his lithe form as she tried to get away, even though she knew it was useless. His mouth nipped at her throat, tongue sliding up her skin before he sucked a bruise into the tender flesh as he groaned.

"You taste like innocence and divinity. And I am going to enjoy corrupting you."

He shoved her knees apart and settled against her, and before he could side his hand from her waist to her breast or between her legs, Nene threw her arms against his chest with a cry.

She wasn't sure who was more surprised as he was tossed back, his black eyes lightening to amber as they both watched the pale gold band form around his tail. She scrambled from beneath him, not getting far before he hooked his hand around her chubby ankle.

He didn’t draw her back to him, which she found odd, but he seemed more preoccupied with the sharp flicks he made to try and fling the ring off. The swing of it was rather hypnotic, and Nene gasped as his claws bit into her skin as he yanked her down the bed.

She drew her knees up as he loomed over her, and she watched as his eyes flickered rapidly over her face, as if there was something hidden in her own gaze that would explain what had happened. His mouth split into a wicked smile and he hauled her up, locking one arm around her as she thrashed in his hold as he snapped his fingers.

Seconds later, three scantily clad demonesses hurried through the door, all wearing the same outfit of a black and white maids uniform, and dipped into deep curtsies. Nene paled as he shoved her forward; the tallest demoness, who had ripped the front of her blouse so that her very generous bust could be seen through the heart shape, caught her by the arm before she could hit the floor.

“Dress our little Angel in her new uniform; she’ll be joining you in your duties starting today.”

Nene whipped her head around as another of the demoness’ hurried away, the ruffles of her dress barely touching the top of her thighs. He couldn’t really mean to put her in something so revealing, but the sly smile as their eyes met showed that he absolutely did.

She shrieked as the demons pulled at her uniform, trying to bat their hands away to no avail. The taller one unsnapped the buttons on her collar as the other pulled her sash free, and she could do nothing as the third came back with her arms full of fabric.

They stripped her quickly and efficiently, though their touch lingered on her skin like a burn. She clung to her thin shift as they tried to pull it off, even as they knocked her off balance to remove her sandals. They couldn’t take her shift, she’d be naked; no one had ever seen her naked. The demoness caught her hands in a bruising grip and bunched the fabric in her free hand.

“Let her keep it.”

They all froze, turning to the Demon Lord reclining on his bed. His grin was as filthy as it was seductive, and Nene tried to draw her hands down to cover herself as his eyes raked over her, his tail flicking lazily against his thigh. She may as well have been completely bare before him with the way his gaze smoldered.

“Yes, M’Lord.”

She didn’t struggle as they pulled the fabric over her head and harshly tugged her braids free of the collar, didn’t comment as they shoved her into the neat black shoes, muffled a gasp as they tied the bow of her apron with enough force to nearly drive the air from her lungs.

The demons hurried out as he snapped his fingers, one poking back in briefly to drop a mop, broom, and bucket inside the door with a cruel grin before it closed behind her. Nene kept her eyes shut as he crossed the room and curled his hands around her hips.

There was nothing she could do as he twisted her from side to side and then turned her, trailing his claws across her belly as he pressed his face into her hair. She could feel the curve of his smile against the shell of her ear before he pulled away.

“You might as well look, my little Angel. You’ll be seeing yourself in it for the foreseeable future. Unless you’d like to clean in the nude.”

Nene snapped her eyes open as heat flooded her cheeks, and was surprised to find herself in a uniform that, while still inappropriate, covered much more than she was expecting. The puffed black sleeves left her arms bare, and the dark ruffles of her skirt at least came to her knees. It was actually cute, with the frilled overskirt and pink and white heart over her chest.

“By the grace of providence we had one in your size.”

She glared at him as he chuckled as he floated behind her, magicing the bucket, mop, and broom into her hands. Providence, as if; more like limitless lechery, she thought as he adjusted her headband. She truly was stuck here, this wasn’t just an elaborate nightmare.

Nene jumped with a scream as his hand smacked her bottom, cleaning supplies flying as he caught her up in his arms. That damned tail wound around her leg as if it had a mind of its own as he pinned her hands to his chest so he could twirl the ring around her finger.

“And, my little Angel; a few more things.”

He bent her nearly backward as he slid his knee between her own, the tension in her spine the only thing keeping her from sprawling back over the bed. The ring on her finger seemed to burn with the same intensity as the one tapping against her thigh.

“You will be my personal attendant; you will wake me, bring me meals if I do not dine in the hall. When I do dine in the hall, you shall serve me. Ah ah, I’m not finished,” his finger pressed against her lips to silence her protests, “You will help me bathe, and dress, and cater to any of my whims.”

His hand slid down her back to cup her bottom and bring her hips flush to his. The hard lines of his body settled against the soft curves of her own with a familiarity that made her flush.

“And I shall allow you to keep your innocence; for now.”

The press of him to the intimate place between her thighs made her whimper and tremble, and he only smirked.

“Also, you shall address me as “My Lord” or “Master” when you speak to me; is that clear, my Angel?”

Nene dipped her head and mumbled as he shifted against her, his tail tightening around her thigh like a demonic garter.

“I didn’t hear you, Angel.”

She lifted her head, meeting those blazing eyes with her own as she curled her nails into his chest and watched him wince.

“Yes, Master.”

He dipped his head, mouth a breath from hers as he pressed their bodies closer together. Heat flooded her at every point they met, and she let her eyes flicker down to his lips worriedly.

“Good girl.”

And then he was gone.

Nene sank onto the edge of the bed as he swept his hand out and the cleaning supplies disappeared with the spilled water. He pulled open the door of his room and gestured into the hall.

“Come along, unless you wish for me to take you now.”

She shot up from the bed and hurried to the entrance, shuttering as he laid his hand on the small of her back to guide her.

“You have much to see before you help me tonight, and I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

Nene felt despair sink into her soul as he led her back down those twisting halls. There were more demons now, peeking from doorways and corners as they headed to the servants quarters. Eyes followed her every step, and the whispers hung in the air like a death sentence.

The Lord of Lust had an Angel for a plaything, and wouldn’t he have fun with her?

Her master’s hand slid lower as his tail lashed against her with every step, and she bit back her tears. This was her own fault, she had gotten herself into this mess. And she would have to be the one to get herself out. There would be no Divine Intervention to save her; the Angels did not listen to the cries that rose from Hell.

If Nene wanted to escape, she’d have to do it herself.

And @anubis-005 Thank you SOOO much for this again! It is, as always, an honor and pleasure to work with you!!! <3 :3

#Nene's Inferno Au #anubis-005 #jshk #tbhk #hananene

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haleigh-sloth · 3 years ago

Note

Do you think that is the "real" Touya and Toga? It seems odd that Touya would give Toga Twice's blood and not use it in their next battle. It could also explain the wardrobe change since it isn't an exact copy of "Dabi". The heroes feel this is where they will end the battle and war against AFO and the League, it doesn't feel like that though. It feels like Horikoshi is setting up for the villains to hurt the heroes again until they come to the realization that they have to save the League.

So I had entertained the thought of them being clones when LAST chapter came out, but I don't think they are clones after this chapter.

I guess I'll use your ask to say my opinion on a lot of takes that came out this week that I do and don't agree with. Sorry for the ramble, you just provided an opportunity and I took it.

But before I do that I want to say that I don't quite know what Touya's change of outfit has to do with him being a clone. Twice duplicates clothes too, so even if it was a clone, that's still what the real Touya would be wearing. Here are three really good posts explaining Touya's outfit change, as it is more symbolic and representative of his inner thoughts toward himself than anything else: Post 1 Post 2 Post 3

Another reason I really don't think they are clones is because, while Twice's blood is a kind of secret tool they have, that doesn't mean they would outright use it. The thing is, I am pretty sure Dabi and Toga planned to use it against a certain person, the person who killed Twice. And that person was nowhere to be seen in this chapter or last chapter. Now that they are separated I think Hawks will encounter Toga and Dabi separately at different times, but I don't know honestly because Hawks's arc is a cluster fuck right now so, I'm just waiting and seeing how it goes. Twice's blood being used for this moment in this chapter, imo, would be a waste of its narrative use. But that's just my opinion. I am not writing off the possibility that they are clones, but to me it would feel way too jerky in the story. Like:

"OH! Look! The villains are here!"

"Oh look they're getting separated giving the heroes an advantage!"

"Oh, psych, it's just clones. None of this mattered anyway."

Personally, I hope that is seriously not the case. It's not out of the realm of possibilities, but it doesn't seem likely. Especially because of the state Shigaraki is in being revealed now, it feels kind of cheap to lighten that impact with making him a clone. BUT, again, not impossible. Just...I hope not.

Onto my little vent:

We are in the last war. But people have completely lost their cool and started screaming that it's too fast paced because this is where it's all going to end, right here. Like....guys. It's only February. Is it not like, possible, and LIKELY that Hori has a lot to cover within this next war arc and needed to start that actual battle aspect as soon as possible?

I never once thought that this fight that just now erupted was going to be the battle that decided everything. There are still THREE (3) individual battles that need to be resolved that we know off the top of our heads, and then we have several other things that need to be tied up. Aizawa and Kurogiri (no, I do not think we are done with that yet, I don't know why people think Hori just casually forgot about it when he literally never forgets about anything), Spinner's whole thing going on, and THEN the rest of the less-relevant villains (who are set up to have redemptive-ending arcs) all have to somehow find their way to the hero side to help save everyone, and then the LOV have to help put an end to AFO for THEIR redemptive moments. And not to mention, the entire rest of the class 1A kids have some shit to do also.

I mean....we are not at the end. I really wish people would chill. I can't find any posts anymore that aren't trying to rile people up into being upset about something. First, the pacing was too slow (which for me in the Deku-solo arc it WAS too slow and I stand by that), but now that it's finally upbeat and fast--it's the end of the world. Like??? What do y'all want omg??

We are in the last stretch but there is still so much to cover. So yes things are going to move quickly, as they should. I do not think the heroes are about to stop AFO and the LOV right here right now. Especially now that the LOV are separated--which idk about y'all but it's incredibly obvious to me that this is happening so each kid can face off with, fight, save, and team up their villain and then all reunite at the end. None of that stuff can happen with them all in the same spot. So no this doesn't feel like the fight where the heroes stop everyone.

Also--I still think Shigaraki is going to be the one to kill AFO. Not the heroes. Obviously Midoriya is going to help, probably they'll both ker-smash him at the same time, but I think it's gonna be Shigaraki ending AFO.

But anyway rant over. TL;DR: I don't think they are clones but I also know that bait and switches and jerky story telling is a part of BNHA at times. So it's not impossible, but I don't think they are.

#bnha #bnha asks #boku no hero academia #bnha 344

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talk1about7seventeen · 4 years ago

Text

Warnings: Flirty situations, suave Taehyung, witty protagonist/ reader, romance.

Pairing: Taehyung x reader / suave!tae x witty!y/n

Word Count: 1744

Notes: Hello! Welcome! This was written in mind for my best friend (love you babe) but I hope you enjoy regardless! Remember, I'm not trying to be the most accurate with my depictions of Taehyung, yet a characterized version of the beloved K-pop artist. This is just for fun so don't think too much into it!

Genre: Romance ♡

Without further a-do, enjoy!

✲ﾟ｡.✿ • .ू • ❁.｡ू *ﾟ✲ﾟ• . *｡

The sky was alive as it always was in the early morning. Clouds danced amongst pinks and hues of gold, such a beautiful sight to wake up to. It was easy to be in a good mood in the city you lived, especially because of the skylight right above your bed where you could peer up into the sunrise yourself. You had made a great living for yourself to be able to afford such lovely apartment. It was at the top of the building, which is why you had a skylight in the first place. The window acutely placed against the ceiling, bringing light into the room so delicately that any movement may break the rays that glistened down upon you. Another day, another adventure. You would wake up with ease, brush your teeth, get dressed in something appropriate for the breezy Summer's day and make your way to the local coffee shop across the street. Yet, the feeling of your bed sheets was so much more alluring than anything else in that moment. The kind of calm that accompanied this room was enough to make any growing artist obtain their inspiration, and such you were.

"Okay." You spoke to yourself, mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead of you. Walking out of the room into the bathroom, you flipped on the light to get a good look at yourself. The short curls on your head stuck out wildly in every direction. Maybe you should have gotten that silk pillow case at the store when it was presented to you. Pillow cases aside, you had more important matters to deal with; today's look. You were feeling something more refined this morning. Maybe a touch of white, a hint of brown, or better yet---maybe lavender.

After brushing your teeth you went to retrieve the outfit of the day which ended up being a long deep colored brown blazer on top of a cream colored sweater slightly tucked into tan shaded long pants with not even a wrinkle on them. The pants in question fanned out at the end which gave you a more prestine and dare one would even say, artsy look. As you returned to the bathroom, you managed to tame the mess of curls on your head into a slick and neat style, one which you had done many times before. "There we go." You smiled at yourself. Over time you have really learned how to put yourself together. A wonderful trick you had learned from any art class; trusting the process. Sure, it may not look ideal at the beginning, but the end result would, if not most times, work out in your favor. You were beautiful, and you knew this. The confidence you radiated, a younger version of yourself envied. But there was no time for envy now, only self appreciation and admiration. You located a long bag you would wear on your shoulder with all the essentials tucked in neatly in each crevice. Now you were ready to start your day, and what better than something warm to sip on.

"Y/n! Good to see you dear!" The older women who ran the coffee shop bubbled at your presence. "Hello, Madam Loretta. Lovely to see your face again." You replied in a respectful tone. This women made you feel at home when you were far from it. Madam Loretta was a kind soul who had a knack for delicious coffee and you were surprised her shop wasn't as well known as it ought to be. "Not a minute late either. What will you be having today?" The women peered at you with curious eyes. Placing a finger on your chin, you pondered for a moment. "Surprise me." She nodded and made her way back to the coffee machine where she began to make your surprise drink, humming a tune you had heard many times before.

The shop wasn't crowded but it had a good amount of people there. One being a particularly interesting fellow you hadn't seen before. His style of clothing was similar to your own and his attention was being pulled from the book in his hand to the beverage in front of him. You watched him as you walked back to your usual seat, pausing when his eyes shifted to you. He looked you up and down for a second and gave a small smile. You shook your head out of your own thoughts and sat down at your seat.

You hadn't meant for the odd stranger to look at you, but now that was all he was doing. His coffee colored eyes swirled and glistened in the sunlight. They seemed warm and mesmerizing. You found yourself staring back. "Y/n, darling!" Madam Loretta called placing a coffee mug on the counter. Rising from your chair you walked up to her, trying not to look at him as you were moments ago. You dipped your head lightly at the woman and thanked her warmly. As you had almost made it back to your space, you heard a noise from where the man sat. "Hmm?" You turned to face him. He gently held up a hand a beckoned you over. Against anything you would have tried then, you were awfully curious of who he was and why he was looking. This was the moment you would let your interest get the best of you.

"You aren't very good at subtlety, are you?" He comments, his voice even and smooth. This caught you by surprise. "I beg your pardon?" He let out a chuckle. "Sit, please." Gesturing to the seat across from him, he watches as you move. You weren't sure if he was looking for something in particular but that wasn't of the utmost concern. You sat down, placing your coffee mug in front of you cautiously. "Well, is there something you need?" His smile grows. "My apologies, y/n, was it?" You nodded, looking at the cup in front of him. "Odd that you chose to order tea at a coffee shop." You commented. "They have it here, don't they?" He placed a hand on his cheek. "I suppose. What would they call you, stranger?"

"Ah, I've forgotten an introduction, haven't I? Kim Taehyung, ma'am, pleasure to make your acquaintance." Taehyung gave a little wink that made your heart race. Odd. "Well, Kim Taehyung, I wouldn't call yourself subtle entirely for you stared first." You say without issue, taking a sip of the coffee without breaking eye contact. It was rich and tasted of hazelnut. A smile spread across your face naturally. Taehyung caught this. "What's so funny?" He tilts his head to the side. "The coffee is good....it always is here." You would thank Madam Loretta before you left. "You should try it sometime, instead of getting a tea at a coffee shop." You teased lightly. Taehyung let out a small giggle. "I don't really like coffee." He said. Now this started to confuse you. "Then why are you here?" He looked around at the chattering customers, the prestine glass windows, everything and then back at you. "The atmosphere is addictive, is it not? Is that not why you're here?"

"A bold assumption, we hardly know each other, Kim Taehyung." He licked his lips softly. "For now." He set both hands crossed in front of each other on the table. "You are an interesting character." You tell him. "All the more reason to talk to me, I presume." You let out a laugh which catches him by surprise. "What a day already." You tell yourself aloud. "I'm glad you find me amusing." He smiles wider, showing his teeth which are perfectly straight. "I do. But I must be on my way." The time of your interaction has run short. You were too busy to keep this up much longer which caused a string in your heart to play a saddened tune. His frown made the song duller---or should one say, more sorrowful. "Can I meet you again?" You ask for a reason unbeknownst to yourself. This question causes him to smile. "You'll find me where the tops of the building meet the sky. And I shall be waiting for you there, dear y/n, I assure you." He tells you poetically. "Okay, Kim Taehyung, until then." He dips his head and gives a little wave goodbye as you walk up to the counter saying your grace to Madam Loretta, and then leaving soon after.

Art classes go ever so slowly this day, for your mind was on the suave man at the beloved coffee shop across the street. You weren't quite sure what he meant in his response before you had left but you were determined to find out. On beautiful days like this, you would walk up to the roof of your school and sit there as the sun left the sky, and today was no different. You walked up the stairs and opened the door with a firm push. To your surprise you weren't alone this time. A beautiful song filled the air. It was deep and moving. The voice could surely only belong to a professional singer, someone of value. You hadn't heard such a lulling tune in quite some time, it was enthralling. You scanned the area looking for who it may be, and there he was, Kim Taehyung. The door behind you shut with a loud click and the song stops abruptly. He turned and smiled as your eyes meet. "I hadn't expected this is where I would find you. You aren't following me, are you?" You walk towards him slowly. "Not at all. You aren't the only one who comes to appreciate the sky, nor will you be the last." You now stand side by side with him as you watch the sun decend over the horizon. You look out into the city with its towering buildings, and chattering tourists and in this moment, you feel like the art instead of the artist. "Meet me here again, y/n. I will wait for you and the sun."

"You're awfully bold, sir." He laughs. "One would ought to be." After that there were no words spoken, only the chirping of birds in the distance as the sun became a canvas for watercolors so bright that you would forget it wasn't a painting entirely. "I will." You tell him finally, and he smiles at this. Eventually, so do you.

#bts #kim taehyung #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #bts fan fiction #taehyung x reader #romance #art #i hope you enjoy!

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grey-eyed-menace · 4 years ago

Text

Like A Dame (Snapshots)

Mammon: *trying his best at being casual* ...so, uh, why're you and Flower-Girl in suits?

Sora: *looking down at her watch in vague interest, frowning at the time* Diavolo provided our outfits for the evening, I complied, Mio guilt tripped Lucifer and Satan into providing a mishmash of their clothes.

Mammon: *visibly disappointed* Don't ya still have a bunch of leftover dresses from the other times?

Sora: And deal with Asmo's appraising glare? No thanks, I get enough flack from him as is about my lack of taste in fashion. I mean, fuck the rest of the Devildom, but I live with Asmodeus. I have to deal with that shit, I'm not Mio, I can't just zone out.

---------------------------------------------------

[Pan behind the refreshments where Leviathan, Mio, and Beel have decided to hide out for the night. The latter two of which are currently splitting what looks like to be an entire raspberry cheesecake, and the former seems to be playing a Gacha game on Mio's phone.]

(Luke stumbles upon them, wearing a rather pretty sailor dress, with his hair done up in pigtails. He puts his hands on hips, frowns cutely, and looks down on them in disappointment.)

Luke: Is this really how you spend every event? No variation?

Mio: *casually fork wrestling Beel away from her three claimed slices of cheesecake* Not every event, no. Sometimes, Belphie or Satan join us, other times Levi and I shack up in the coat room, or Beel decides too safeguard the entire refreshment table. There's plenty of variation.

Luke: That's not what I meant and you know it.

Mio: And you're hiding from Phenex, aren't you?

[In the distance, a rather high pitched call of 'Luke!' can be heard as an incredibly pretty female looking aqua haired demon traverses the dance floor.]

Luke: ...*sighs* Can you slide over?

------------------------------------

Sora: So that was Marchosias?

Satan: Yes, unfortunately, it seems she's not incredibly fond of you.

Sora: *blinks stupidly* Not fond? She's my lab partner. If anything, she loves me. It's just... Well, I'm hanging out with the guys she kind of... You know, followed into hell? It's awkward dude. Like... I think I've seen her vault out a six story building just to avoid Beel.

Satan: Truly?

Sora: *shrugs* Hey, a large majority of people avoid their family like the plague, others try to stay connected, and some, like Phenex, decide that they're gonna be said families problem. Whether they like it or not.

Satan: And you? What's your category?

Sora: *without so much as pausing to think* Reluctant orphan adoptee with five siblings, three cousins, and a really fucking weird extended family.

------------------------------------

Solomon: Ah, Diana!

[Solomon rushes over to his old student with a bright smile, clad in a black form fitting dress with white accents, paired with a gold sash, and silver heels. He also, rather inexplicably, has a rather modest set of breasts.]

(Diana, by comparison, is dressed in a rather oversized midnight blue tux with a grey bowtie, and a white sash around her hips, a large spade sewn over her heart.)

Diana: *blinks tiredly, presses a hand to her face, and sighs, preparing herself for an oncoming clusterfuck* Yes Solomon?

Solomon: *grin persisting* I'm calling in a favor, I need you to help me with something.

Diana: *closes eyes, breaths in, and then exhales* ...next time, next time, I'm taking Bridget and Eirny up on that fourth honey moon.

------------------------------------

Spade: Has anyone ever told you that you're infuriating?

Phenex: *humming as they drag him around the dance floor* Constantly, you?

Spade: Only my children.

------------------------------------

[As the party begins to wind down, Mio has decided to briefly venture out from behind the refreshments table, only to come upon a staring contest between Phenex and Simeon.]

(Simeon looks incredibly uncomfortable. Phenex is simply Smiling, it's not a pretty smile, no, it's the smile that got Diavolo to back down from including them and Luke in the butler fiasco.)

Mio: ...do I want to know?

Simeon: *still uneasily meeting Phenex's gaze* No.

Phenex: *still Smiling* It's just drama between siblings, you understand don't you Mio-chan?

(Mio raises an eyebrow at Simeon, then turns to Phenex, and back to Simeon, before casting her gaze to where Luke and the others were at before sighing.)

Mio: Right, uh, well, I'll be leaving then, see you guys at R.A.D. tomorrow, I suppose.

(Mio proceeds to speed walk back to where Beel, Levi, and Luke are without a second thought.)

------------------------------------

[By way of an escaped Lucifer, the Ubuyashiki-Shibata cousins are currently dancing with one another.]

(Mio is leaning against Sora's shoulder, as the latter leads her through the steps of a butchered slow waltz.)

Mio: How's day been so far? Well, I know mine hasn't been the best, Levi stole the last cupcake.

Sora: *sighing* I see you've been dreadfully bored.

Mio: Bored doesn't begin to cover it, I miss the more... Nerve wracking events!

Sora: Mio, we nearly die everytime those events happen.

Mio: Not always! Sometimes I get lucky! I got to hold Mammon's hand during that room by room puzzle!

Sora: ...Lord above *pointedly ignoring the scandalized gasps from passing demons* you two are pathetic.

------------------------------------

[After what seems to be an eternity, Diana and Spade join together on the dance floor.]

(Sora and Asmo watch from by the refreshments opposite to the one Beel, Levi, and Mio are hiding behind, Diana and Spade gliding right by them, completely ignorant of their presence, only focused on one another.)

Sora: *eyes following them* Please tell me you feel like your intruding, please, I don't want to feel alone.

Asmo: *humming, already going about fixing Sora's bun* I don't know why you're hoping to find solidarity with me Sora, I mean, it's cute, but honestly? This just excites me. To see something so intimate and gentle... Ah, it makes me ache for simpler times.

Sora: *whimpers*

Asmo: *pats her shoulder reassuringly*

------------------------------------

[It's the last dance of the night, and the Ubuyashiki-Shibata cousins are each dancing with their own prospective partners completely stone-faced.]

(Sora, dressed in a silver suit and black tie, with her hair up in a braided bun reminiscent of Arturia Pendragon, is dancing with Mammon.

Mio, by comparison, dancing with Belphie, and therefore helping support him, is dressed in an odd mishmash of Lucifer, Asmo, and Satan's clothes. A pair of navy blue slacks, a black dress shirt, dark pink tie and white blazer. Her hair is gathered into a short ponytail at the base of her skull, tied off with a red ribbon. Asmo is distinctly glaring at her from where he's dancing with Diana.)

Mammon: What's got you pissed off Girlie?

Sora: *still completely stone-faced* Fate, the world, Phenex's continued existence, an array of things. Most glaringly, perhaps it's the fact that you couldn't ask my cousin to dance so you stole me away from Beel and Belphie?

Mammon: *clears throat, as Sora leads him into an awkward dip* ...right, got me there Girlie.

(Across the floor, Belphie stirs enough to ask a question.)

Belphie: Why're you so stiff? Actually, why aren't you Sora, and where is Beel?

Mio: *pointedly smiling at Asmo as he passes by with Diana before answering* Mammon's a coward, and Lady Rose is genuinely convinced I'm a man.

Belphie: *already drifting off again* Got it...

------------------------------------

[After the ball ends, the brothers and the Ubuyashiki-Shibata cousins proceed with the trek home.]

(Beel has taken to supporting Belphie with his left arm, while Sora, on his right, proceeds to routinely supply him with snacks.

Mio has taken to trying to convince Levi to give her phone back before they arrive at the House of Lamentation, while riding on Mammon's back piggy back style, grin plastered on her face, with Levi arguing hotly about being in the middle of raid on a mobile dungeon game of some sort.

Asmo is on Mammon's left side, mumbling obscenities about Mio's fashion choices.

Meanwhile, Satan and Lucifer are at the back of the pack quietly bickering about something or other.

Phenex, as usual, is stocking the poor 'family' of nine from the shadows.)

Sora: It was a good night, you know.

Beel: *chewing around a candy bar of some sort, and shifting Belphie's weight slightly* Yeah, it kinda was, wish there was more food at the refreshments table though, it was good.

Sora: Meh, I'll take your word for it, all I had was some of that Blood Punch, which... Yeah, not really for me, I think Solomon spiked it with something for the lesser demons.

Beel: Is that why Diana looked like she wanted to drop dead every time Diavolo came by for a drink?

Sora: Mmh, that and I think it was because she was forced to dance with Phenex for most of the night, she and Mister Spade only danced once, even if lasted the rest of the night.

(They silent the rest of the way to the House of Lamentation. At which, they all separate, undress, and promptly pass out, well, except for Levi, who remains with Mio's phone held hostage well until early morning.)

------------------------------------

[The next morning, the household is rather groggy as they make their way down to breakfast.]

Mammon: Last night must 'ave been something else, my feet freakin' hurt.

Beel: You're one to talk, I feel like my ankles are planning a mutiny.

Mio: I woke up in a binder, guys, a binder. What the hell? I thought I wasn't going to be the Dame!

Sora: At least you didn't feel like you were suffocating the entire night, my chest still feels like it's about to cave in, fucking hell...

Levi: *shrugs* I'm actually fine with whatever happened.

Belphie: *head thunks against the table*

(Several moments later, there's an array of notifications from Asmo's phone. Loud shrill beeps are all that make up the next two or so minutes.)

Lucifer: *sighs* ...It seems I forgot about the social media ban, lovely.

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bxllafanficc · 4 years ago

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¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(Part two)

Part two. Part one Part three Part four part five

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Your POV*

There. All set and done. You took a last look at the pair of eyes staring back at you in the full body mirror. Your hair all dried up with a blowdrier and a pair of white jeans along with your favorite leather jacket. A grey turtleneck on that and that was the outfit for today. Keeping it classy since Victor failed to cancel the meeting with the press a couple of hours from now. 'A big hoodie would've been the ideal alternative though' you thought and sighed. Nowadays it's all about keeping it as simple yet kind of professional for every day. Social media were all star struck about the world's latest announcement. 'Winner of this year's Grand Prix senior division goes on a tour with none other than the (y/n) (l/n)!' The newspapers were first out as usual thanks to the reporters crowding her personal space since two weeks from now since the news came out. A collaboration between a figure skating competition and a competition for vocalists. You never saw that coming but you could see the appeal. The currently hottest male skater along with a popular female singer, fighting for the spotlight even though they're sharing it evenly. Him with his skills and she with her voice. You agreed to participating when asked, of course. It was a great opportunity and experience. And currently you sought out every great possibility at the market right now. That's what lead you here.

You made your way out the room you were staying in and headed towards the dining area in deep thoughts. 'So that's Yuri Plisetsky up close?' You thought as you passed the living room. You entered the dining area and stood still at the entrance to take in the scene before you. Yuri Plisetsky is sitting at the dining table with his back facing you. Beside him with his side profile turned at your direction is coach Yakov who's chatting with Victor and Yuuri opposite of the table. Yuri is not talking. He's busy eating a dish called the pork cutlet bowl, you assumed. You had never tried one before but the dish was all too familiar thanks to the last Grand Prix competition on Yuuri Katsuki's behalf. You eyed Yuri carefully and entered the room. He's a little shorter than what was given away on television but other than that, very much the boy you'd seen competing time to time. His skating was without doubt impressive to say the least. His jumps were always perfect as expected and his upper body movements in beat to the music. Though, you always deemed something missing in his already amazing performances. Expression. The year he won gold at the senior division, you saw some great scenes of emotion displayed in his skating but it was clear that he never let them consume him. It always looked as if there was something on his mind and that held him back, even made him stop and hesitate sometimes.

"Whoo! (Y/n) is back! Yuri! Meet your coach in musical expressional performance."

The boy's attention was suddenly entirely on you now, in comparison for being totally relaxed and unfocused. He tensed up and the pair of breathtakingly blue and green eyes widened at her for the second time today. 'Hope this is not becoming a regular habit of his' whenever he sees me. It's starting to get a little embarrassing.'

"You! What even- What are you doing here?! A-aren't you like 19 years old or something? That's just two years away from me! That's.. You're far too young to be my coach!" The startled reaction of his kind of made you wonder what was up. He did meet you just about- ah. Your face mask and your covered hair clearly disguised you well enough for the boy not to recognize you. Though he clearly knew you.

"Great, so you're familiar with me. Then I don't need a further introduction." You flashed him a smile.

"Who isn't familiar with the star of We Are Voice and winner of gold two years in a row? At this point, you're basically stealing the spotlight I fought so hard to gain at my senior division debut." The words came out in a mutter and the negative impact of the comment made you raise an eyebrow at the boy on the floor in front of you. He still hadn't stood up to greet you which would be the appropriate thing to do first time meeting your coach. Then you pouted and leaned your now crossed arms against the wall to your right.

"Though, I am a little disappointed you didn't recognize me by voice. I mean, if I am as famous as you speak of, you surely would've known right away." That just earned a scoff from him.

"There are thousands of girls who sound similar to you. Yes, even with that (nationality) accent. Your voice isn't that special." The other men in the room widened their eyes. Ouch. And he's just as grumpy and homeboy teenage-crisis as he was portrayed in television and social media as well. You had thought it was only mere acting in an attempt to shun people away and making the attraction towards him less appealing.

"I see... Well that's one way putting it."

It certainly worked on you, you had thought for several years now but turns out he's just a jerk. Yakov moved to get in Yuri's face and scold him.

"Where is your manners? Quit playing a brat all of a sudden."

"What? Am I not allowed to speak my mind now when you have to suck up to miss universe over here all of a sudden?"

You raised a silent hand for the arguing pair to let their words die down and then you locked gaze with the insolent boy. Your eyes were blank but rock hard and you could swear that you saw a faint gulp forming in his throat.

"Get on your feet and get over here. Turn sideways." At least I didn't have to ask twice. But I didn't really ask him either. He rose to his feet and took some hesitant steps towards me. It was clear that he didn't trust me. 'Something to work on' I hummed to myself. His posture was stiff and crooked but after another word from Yakov, he straighten his back for me to see him properly. He pulled the hood of his hoodie off and mirrored my blank hard stare. I began to circle him, getting a fair look on what I would be working with for a set of weeks. His eyes didn't dare follow mine as I stepped beside him, knowing that I was out for him to break character. A stale being is much harder getting to know than a forward and open one.

Then, when you were behind his back, you reached out with your hand to his back and - shoved him casually forwards. A yelp of surprise echoed through the room as he stumbled and fell towards Victor who caught him right before hitting the floor face first. You and Yakov locked gaze and gave each other a slight nod before you once again turned to the upset boy.

"What the hell was that? You pushed me for what? Are you that sensitive for a little negativity for once?"

"Your balance is off." You simply said with the same blank expression and a headshake. He seemed dumbfounded of the answer and got off Victor with quick feet. He was close to you this time and the daggers you received was intended to leave wounds after he was done.

"Because you pushed me."

"Exactly."

"I wasn't prepared!"

"Exactly."

"We have some work to do, Yuri. Your break has been too long, it seems. She was only picking up on where you left off, in a way." Yakov spoke up between the one-sided staring contest. The boy turned towards the man which included his back facing my front once again. But this time, he was careful on taking a few steps forward to avoid history repeating itself.

"She's not you. She shouldn't do your job. It's none of her business anyway."

"It actually is if you think harder on it. There's no point in me working on your emotional performance if your practical performance is flawed. A skater who can't manage a simple shove will not get up on his or hers feet at the competition as well." You expected some kind of backlash from Yuri, at least a glare or something. But you were met with nothing to your surprise. He didn't speak up either.

"It's settled. You and I will rehearse you back into your former shape before your time with (y/n) begins, starting tomorrow. Meanwhile, also take some time to get to know each other, you two. You seem to need it." Yakov declared the schedule and choose to pinpoint the obvious tension between you and Yuri. You somewhat agreed on spending time besides training. Though, you would rather not take a verbal beating more than once a day further on.

Yuri still didn't speak up but he didn't object either.

"(Y/n), there's food left for you too! Please join us for dinner." Yuuri Katsuki exclaimed and waved an energetic hand towards the bowls and plates on the table. In front of you, you saw the back muscles of the Russian skater's form tense at the words.

You had to decline though. If not for the meeting, then for the sake of giving Yuri some space. It must be hard, after all. Whatever's he's going through right now.

"I would love to! But I have to excuse myself this time. After all, I have a meeting to attend and if I don't get going, I'll soon be running late. See ya folks later!"

And with that, you dashed off.

#yuri on ice #yuri katsuki #yuriart #yuri plisetsky x reader #yuri plisetsky #yurianime #anime fanfic #fanfiction #yuri on ice fandom #yuri on ice fanfiction

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nadango · 5 years ago

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Alela Grora: an analysis thingy

Good day to the funamusea fandom that has neglected my beautiful angel (joking. Maybe.) I offer you sea urchins a collection of observations concerning the eccentric lady: Alela Grora.

I'll be breaking down her personality and interpreting every scene and official art she's appeared in, and even include a couple of theories to fill in the gaps, if you find that interesting.

Note: I believe seichiinara did this before when she was active, but I sadly never got to read it. Therefore, everything here is based on my own observations.

First of all...Who is Alela Grora?

Grora is an angel that serves as Etihw's subordinate. She's an archer and a war veteran, and now destroys Wodahs' garden full time.

Based on canon appearances, she is described by Yosafire as "a weird lady looking for her eye"...Perhaps it's because Yosaf isn't too familiar with Grora (which I kinda doubt) or Grora simply doesn't get too close to others, keeping her cool and mysterious appearance.

To the player, I'm sure she seemed like a cool and laid back adult, contrasting Wodahs because opposites attract. She only ever loses her cool when Ater is involved because of the eye incident, which I will talk about later.

But, other than that, we don't know much about her. Being chill isn't an entire personality, especially when we're talking about a literal soldier who lived through the dark war era. Yet, what makes Tgg and dsp's storytelling magnificent is the way they make their stories more than what they seem. During the game, you have a group of cute main characters who are facing danger, but slowly you start to feel something darker creep in the background, not the angry flame demons, but the guardians of their peaceful world hide a lot more than you think.

Therefore, important characters such as Grora, Kcalb, Etihw, the cats and Wodahs-- who is this big question mark-- aren't going to reveal themselves just like that. No, a good writer will drop subtle hints in their mere actions.

Grora literally lost an arm and nearly blew to death for --ah, a certain group of girls. Reincarnations of Etihw's past subordinates. Grora's previous colleagues she had witnessed their deaths and their burial.

She encourages Macarona and is close to Froze for a reason (she hasn't interacted with Chelan as of now, probably didn't have a chance to) ...because of the guilt and the pain she has felt as she saw her previous world fall apart, she wants the descendants of her colleagues to enjoy this new world a d have a wonderful and peaceful life, a life their ancestors would've wanted. And this would make sense, since she's the only character to not explicitly talk about the past, but also the only one to directly compare Froze to Sherbet.

To sum this up, Grora is a very chill individual who is loved by all, a bit odd sometimes, but still friendly. She is selfless and will fight for what is right, probably due to her past experiences during the war, which she is trying to forget and move on, unlike the rest of the crew. Alas, she can't, for everything reminds her of the terrible old world.

Character Design

Hands down, dsp did the Blancblack crew's designs justice. When it comes to Grora, we could note a few things:

Her current outfit resembles Sherbet/Froze's a bit too much. This may indicate that Sherbet might've had a certain impact on her. I can't say for sure that they were close or not, but he did do something that'll make Grora act the way she does towards Froze.

Missing halo: She is close to Etihw and works under them, no? So why doesn't she wear it? We know it's an accessory, but someone in Grora's position would wear it. For example, Taffy, who is the Head Angel of his world, doesn't wear one because he's not fond of Fumus to begin with, and that includes Olive. All the other Angels don't mind their gods, so they keep the halo. Dsp doesn't need to tell us that, it's logical. Something might've happened between Grora and Etihw, but it's not necessary huge. It could've just altered her point of view or something.

Now, for the war outfit. It is, simply, inspired by Etihw's diamond themed robes. Another thing to note is the tired expression she wore is VERY similar to Etihw's. This might mean that Etihw had a large influence on Grora, and we'll get to their relationship later on.

Grora's color palette is exactly the opposite of Wodahs', which is a good choice considering that they drastically contradict each other. But it's important to note that Etihw and Kcalb also have opposite color palettes, black and white, dark and light, two past enemies who's mentalities are totally different. It's quite curious of Dsp to design Wod and Grora this way too, no?

Ater and Grora's eye

Grora's grudge against Ater isn't simply a grudge. If she is truly trying to heal and let go of the past, why couldn't she just forgive Ater and heal her eye like Wodahs suggested?

Grora was most likely a fierce warrior, an archer, and having her eye taken out must've been humiliating. A strong and pure being torn down to pieces. That incident was proof of her cowardice. Therefore, the lost eye resembles her lost pride. Finding it again means redeeming herself, but of course, the eye has nothing to do with pride. It's just a distraction.

I may be looking way into this, but it DOES make more sense that way. Same thing goes for Wodahs' eye, but I'll talk about that some other time.

Speaking of Wodahs...

Eyepatch Angels

Whether you ship them platonically or romantically, they're still the best duo and work perfectly together either way.

Based on the events of the game, Wodahs and Grora are close colleagues who always bicker and fight over the most mundane things (Grora is usually the one who starts) yet they make a great team. Grora has a bit of a crush on him because who doesn't but these feelings don't seem reciprocated (Small note: That doesn't mean he doesn't care for her at all, and we barely know what Wodahs is thinking most of the time, so we're not really sure. He's also very dense sometimes)

There isn't much to say about their current relationship for now. What's more interesting is their relationship during the war, and boy oh boy, do I have some news.

I'm sure we all know this infamous art, the only art featuring them so badass and, so far apart too. They're also facing each others backs, and considering their close relationship, this is bad news. Only enemies are positioned like this, and the high gap resembles how distant they are from each other. That being said, Wodahs and Grora have quite the history. If only dsp could reveal more about them.

Oh, a wild theory has appeared!

Using these observations (specifically Grora's relations to Etihw and Wodahs, and the missing halo) we could come up with some context.

Grora respected and looked up to Etihw, remaining true and loyal to them. At some point, Grora became/was going to be head angel, only for her position next to Etihw was taken by Wodahs, and it angered her.

Etihw most likely paid more attention to him, and ignored Grora. Perhaps they've hurt her in some way, which resulted into a shattered relationship. Sure, everything was fine after Kacalb nuked the world, but memories and past experiences stay.

Well...this speculation is farfetched, but I wanted to share an abridged version of it with you

And that, ladies and gentlemen, includes the analysis thingy. If you've made it here, thank you so much for reading!! And I hope this helped you in some way!

Also, looking at how hard I tried to summarize this, I'm kinda anxious about the Wodahs analysis, since there's a LOT to cover...Haha.

#funamusea #the gray garden #mogeko theories #海底囚人 #alela grora #wodahs (the gray garden)#etihw (the gray garden)#kcalb (the gray garden)#ater (the gray garden)#poison bugs #obsolete dream #mogeko castle #oounabara to wadanohara #wadanohara and the great blue sea

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