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sirenjose · 6 months

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Kurt's Diary - Thoughts and Theories

(Including crack theory Naib didn't kill Murro)

1) Emily's (first aid kit?)

2) Wu Chang's umbrella is still here, and NE is making sure we know this. That means either Jose did leave but didn't bring the umbrella with him, or he didn't leave

If he did win, was he put into another game like Emma and Murro (Emma's letter did mention her being with others her 2nd time around)?

Orpheus did say he "treasured" the opportunity to include Jose in his experiments, which could mean he'd want to use him as long as he could?

* Michiko's mask is still here too.

3) The "guy" Murro would rather "freeze to death" than encounter can't be the Hullabaloo group (Murro the only survivor). Likely Naib, who's chasing Murro based on Naib's 1st letter (only other possible option is the manor owner)

4) HA! I WAS RIGHT! THERE WAS SOMETHING SECRET ABOUT THE FROG AND ITS GOLD BALL! (I'm sorry, I've been focused on that stupid thing since I first joined IDV and saw the diaries.) Question now is what it does... (secret exit?)

We know the gold ball was in Murro's room based on William's diary before he returned it to the statue. Maybe Murro knew its secret. But for what purpose? Did Murro hide something there, like how he used apple juice to write secret pages in his diary? Or something else?

5) Pretty sure the "explorer" isn't literally Kurt here. The one who "refused to trust his allies" and was "brutally slain by a wild beast" should be Murro, based on Murro's diary page Kurt finds, and Kurt may assume Bane killed Murro for now and thus Bane is the "beast"

Though considering the other letters, Naib is another option, but Kurt should have no reason to know that (if Naib did indeed kill Murro), so at least in this context Kurt says "wild best" to refer to Bane.

I've always had 2nd thoughts/doubts about the idea Naib wants to kill Murro. We know Naib works for Arthur Russel, who we know is a detective. Arthur is currently the one investigating both the Hullabaloo tragedy and Lakeside Village.

We know Arthur cares about his investigators as he pulls them out of the investigation when he believes a "crime syndicate" is involved with Lakeside. We haven't seen anything yet that implies Arthur also has his men do assassinations though...

Not saying that can't be the truth but I want more info before jumping to any conclusions, despite whatever the manor owner says, especially as we know even the manor owner isn't all-knowing (like with the people who only leave puddles behind, or Naib managing to disappear).

It's hard for me to say, but it is possible there were multiple sets of footprints belonging to more than 1 person, aka maybe Naib's was 1 of them (if not Bane's, if Bane only stays in his cabin in the forest).

Seem to be maybe 4 sets of footprints

1 set

2nd set

3rd set

4th set

But if Naib can disappear from the manor owner's sight, maybe he can also help other people to disappear too? If Arthur wanted to find the culprit of the Hullabaloo deaths and they discovered someone else from the circus had survived, they may have wanted to find him to help solve the mystery of the circus murders, which could be why Naib went after Murro as we saw in his 1st letter.

As an investigator, a new witness could be the key to solving the whole mystery (maybe that's just me as someone who reads/watches/plays too much detective stuff)

Naib obviously knows how to be stealthy/sneaky considering he has to do the same for himself to hide from the authorities, since Naib is a deserter, and desertion is a serious offense.

Murro's smart too considering the sort of invisible ink he uses.

So I think it's possible...

Maybe a good question to ask is “Why”? Why would Naib want to kill Murro? Mike is friendly with Murro, who Mike helped fake his death for, so he’s not the reason. And Naib isn’t just a brainless killer, since he deserted after refusing to kill his comrades, so he’d need a reason.

I guess you could say he might if he was paid to do so, but who’d ask to kill Murro? I doubt there are too many people that know too much about him enough to either hate him or have a reason to kill the person Bernard labeled as a “wild child” for his circus.

Different note, but the hole is gone in Servais' diary, but the boars are now in that same area that 1 set of footprints led to. It's also where Naib leaves the dead boar, which has a section of it torn open.

Still no idea what might've been inside.

Too many questions...

6) Info about Kurt's 2nd letter

"tree cave" = Murro's room

William and Kurt were awake in the evening due to the "awful weather". Nothing about sounds of "wild beasts"

Kurt thought they should do more than sit in their rooms, which is why he had Will help gather Naib and Murro. This was when Kurt went to look for Murro, found Murro not in his room + door locked, then went outside, where he saw footsteps, a (freshly dug?) hole, and Bane. He didn't see a "corpse", any heads being "bit off", or it being dragged off

Last thing Kurt says is to ask Naib to look at his new "work" based on his "experiences". This may be, at least in part, related to the work "Kurt Frank's Travels" from Kurt's 4th letter that he writes to Blackett Publications to get published. But nothing, at least from this yet, about telling Naib about seeing "a wild beast dragging his corpse into the shrubs. It bit off his head". Doesn't mean he didn't tell Naib this, but based on how much of the previous stuff was true, it's at least doubtful this is the full truth

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some-creep · 2 years

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Angst 6 for then prompt, maybe Callie waking up from hypnosis after something goes very wrong during the boss battle 😈

peepoBigSmile

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Callie had thrown her hand out in a grand gesture, pointing at the vehicle that had flown in to put a stop to her. She gave the order to fire at will, and the audience roared with applause and cheers as the truck was hit square in the side by a giant metal fist, sending a ball of flaming wreckage down to the depths below the stage. The crowd yelled, chanting her name in awe of her command of the battlefield.

Heart pumping, she pointed down at the small yellow speck of an Inkling, sent in to do all of the dirt work. With a wild grin, she shouted, "give up now or you can join them! What'll it be? Surrender or be smashed flat as a pancake!"

The young Inkling, barely old enough to transform, stood quivering in her oversized boots. Dropping her gun, she wordlessly super jumped away, back the way she came.

Callie held out her arms, laughing triumphantly for the Octolings watching her every move. Hopefully, Marie was able to hear how cool she sounded!

When her performance ended, Callie quickly made her way down under the arena where the truck had crash landed. It wasn't hard to find, what with all the commotion. Still, she was supposed several times along the way, being thanked for finally getting rid of those pesky agents for good. Callie was beaming. She'd taught them a lesson they wouldn't soon forget! And Marie could tell everyone not to mess with the Octarians.

Grinning from ear to ear, she jogged up to the now smoldering wreckage, splashing through a puddle as she approached. The Octarians had already mostly extinguished the fire.

An elite Octoling approached Callie, holding a clipboard, "We've already captured that little gunsmith driving. Looks like that shell of his came in handy. Well, so long as he's willing to work, that is. Otherwise he might not feel so lucky."

"Awesome!" She said, crossing her arms, "And the Inkling that was with him? Where did you take her?"

The Octoling blinked, looking at Callie with a look of confusion. When Callie didn't seem to understand, she spoke up slowly, "nowhere yet. We're looking into the best means of disposal."

"Dis…what?" Callie turned her head, following the soldier's gaze to the ground not far from where they both stood.

There, lying in a wide pool of lime green ink that reached her boots, swirling with blue blood, was Marie. Her eyes were open, though they weren't focused on anything.

Callie ran over to her, calling out to her. The Octolings all stared. "Marie, hey, Marie!"

She stood over Marie, still smiling. "Hey, Marie, did ya see? Did ya see how good I did?"

Marie didn't reply. She didn't blink. Her body didn't even twitch. Callie's smile began to fade, her voice shaking. "H-Hey, Marie, quit playing around. That's not funny. C'mon Marie, you're gonna make me cry, and right after I looked so cool."

Again, nothing. She could hear the soldiers starting to murmur to each other, though it was being drowned out by the ringing in her ears.

"C'mon, wake up." Callie nudged her with her foot, feeling only weight and little else. She tried again, harder this time. Her foot collided with nothing but a dull thud, as if she'd kicked a weighted blanket. "Can't you hear me? I said get up! This isn't funny!"

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and, awkwardly, another soldier spoke to her. "Callie, she's dead."

"Dead? What do you mean dead?" She snapped, jerking away. She heard something squish beneath her foot. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been real, because it looked like it belonged inside of Marie.

She didn't let herself look long. "She can't be dead! Cuz that's not possible! Marie would never leave me all alone, idiot." Callie knew if she said it with enough determination, it would be true. "So where is she?"

The Octoling was at a loss.

"I know this is some kinda joke. But I don't wanna play this game. Where's Marie hiding? C'mon, tell me."

Silence.

"I said tell me!" She screamed, grabbing the breastplate of the other girl's uniform. "Where is she? Where did Marie go? This isn't funny, please tell me. You gotta know. We were supposed to go back home together before I came here. We were gonna visit my parents and our Gramps! She wouldn't miss out on that. So where did she go?"

"I–"

"Fine! If you won't tell me I'll just find her myself!" She shoved the girl back, stepping over the blank mass on the floor. Marie was hiding somewhere, and it was up to her to find out where. Callie just wished she knew why her cheeks had gotten all wet…

#i. do not even know what to tag this #uhhh enjoy :)!

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creaturecosmo · 1 year

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TW: angst, hurt/comfort, intrusive thoughts

Aizawa is having a very hard night. He's trying to bury himself in work, not think and ignore the voice trying valiantly to take over his mind. But it's still there. It's still loud. It's still angry.

"A hero?" it whispers. "Cute. You can't even protect your own kids. Who's the one who almost died at USJ, almost abandoned 20 children to witness their beloved teacher and prohero's death?"

Aizawa aches.

"Who let a child get kidnapped by the League of Villains? Who left the rescue to a bunch of students? You weren't there for those kids during the summer camp," it growls, "you put them through Hell and back. It's a wonder you're even still a hero, let alone their teacher. A coward that hides in the shadows."

His pen bleeds into the paper he's trying to grade. Red ink all too reminiscent of times not long gone.

"Why did you become a pro hero? Hiding in the night, so no one can see your fuck ups. They still see. Everyone in Japan, maybe even the world, knows how pathetic you are. Just retire already, save the kids some grief."

Hizashi comes back to their dorm room and finds his husband just staring at a stack of essays. Tears drip slowly down his cheeks, pooling in the red puddle of the page from his pen.

Without thought, he moves to grab the weighted blanket off the back of the couch and drapes it over his baby's shoulders. The papers move to the coffee table and the pen gets capped.

Life blooms in Aizawa as Hizashi sits and pulls him into his arms. The exhaustion bleeds into guilt and sorrow as Aizawa's face crumples and he sobs softly. Nails through his knotted hair and soft hums flow through the air for a while. Once the sobs slow to sniffles, Hizashi finally murmurs that age-old love-soaked sentiment.

"I love you, Shouta. You're worth the world's weight in gold just as you are."

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #aizawa shota #eraserhead #present mic #hizashi yamada #erasermic #creature.txt

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maguro13-2 · 10 months

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Justice for All ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Chapter 2 Pt.4

[Images flashes of Maka turning into a beast made of ink, and then flashes to Soul waking up]

Soul : Gah! *panting* Maka! Maka! Where the hell are you? Maka!

Maka : Soul! I'm right here!

[Rising Sun - Akira Yamaoka]

Soul : Maka! [runs off] *panting* Maka! Where are you!?

Maka : Over here!

Soul : Hang on! I'm coming, Maka! Where the hell does this voice coming from, it sounds like Maka, but it's someone that imitates like her, where does she knows that I'm on her way!?

[cuts to Soul entering a hall where it leads to the entrance to the Black Room]

Soul : There! I found it! [suddenly, the hall stretches itself as Soul tries to reach the door to it] Hey! Come back! Stupid door! [unknown to him, is a wave of ink that is currently after him] Come on! Come on! Just let, me, INNN! [quickly opens the door and enters it] Phew! Finally I made it! Hmm? What's this? Some kind of...large throne room? Hello? Maka? Guys?

Maka : Glad that you finally made it this far. [sees Maka sitting on a throne] It's about time, you finally shown up.

Soul : ...Maka. Look, Maka. I really need you back. Everyone's waiting for you.

Maka : Who's everyone?

Soul : Look, Maka, this isn't a joke! I seriously needed you back the way it was! Please, just come back home and...[steps on a puddle of ink] Huh? Is this...Black Blood? Maka, did you spewed Black Blood all over the throne room?

Maka : It's not Black Blood, Soul. It's not black blood at all! The only reason that I was chosen as a hero for this kind of garbage! Why would I even fall in love with a loser like you?

Soul : Maka, what are you talking about? Please, we know who you are, you are Maka, the hero of our world who was chosen to become a--

Maka : Shut your mouth, shark face! I am nobody! I'm nobody's Maka! Not anymore! Not the one that I used to be! Why does anyone kept telling me to pull that heroic crap!? I've been trying to tell you this for a long time, the Maka I know is dead, the Maka you knew is gone, nobody wants to have that ridiculous name for a hero! Just give it a rest, take a chill pill, and give me a BIG, FAT, BREAK!!!

Soul : Please...Maka...W-Why are you doing this?

Maka : Why? Because you wanna know something why? Because the Maka you see me isn't what I used to think of. And now thanks to you and that dumbass legacy made by Shinra, this was always his fault that I have been deceived by the eyes of him, letting everyone astray, and not seeking the truth. And by the way, there's one more thing I have to tell you something, Soul.

Soul : What?

Maka (?) : I'm not the maka, that you usually know...[her voice slowly distorts to a demonic voice] I...am...MEEEEE!!!

Soul : No! No! No, no, no, no! It can't be you! [About to get eaten by Maka, who revealed to be the Ink Demon] No, no! NOOO! [screaming in horror] AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! [CHOMP!]

[Soul wakes up from dream]

Soul : No!....Why in the world would anyone think Maka's a traitor, and what does that mean she's not her? That bastard is definitely hiding something from us, and I bet that me a guy who turns into a scythe can't think about something that what the truth holds.

"Meanwhile..."

Shinigami/Death (?) : [looking at a portrait of Shinra Kusakabe (his creator)] Soon, creator. After this is all over, I can finally cherish the legacy and it's sheer perfect of the Kusakabe family tree, the legacy that you created me to protect mankind. Speaking of protecting mankind, [takes his face off, revealing to be human inside of him; It's Shotaro from B.Ichi] You have been deceiving me for the last time...Shinra!

"Later this morning..."

Kaguya : [breathes heavily]

Penny Crygor : Hey...Hey, can you hear me? Hey, wake up. [wakes up and sees Penny] Good thing you're okay. You seemed to lost consciousness after having that battle with a human being.

[Yacker's Plea - Fumie Kumatani, Kenichi Tokoi]

Kaguya : Huh? Where am I, exactly?

Penny Crygor : Why you're at a place called Massachusetts, where we found you safe and sound, not to mention the mess out there. Everybody thinks that Jacqueline did it and it was kind of not her fault. So, you are a woman with a naked body? But why being a nudist at the United States? Hardly, all people aren't allowed to be naked at some places, but casual nudity will do just fine!

Kaguya : I'm not much of a nudist, but casual nudity will do not fine if it comes to public places from around the world. So, you are a human on earth correct?

Penny Crygor : Sure, and this is where we live on, in the real world! There's all sorts of places from around the world, like Tokyo, Dublin, New York, Paris, London, and every interesting places to travel around the globe. Where did you come from? Hmm?

Kaguya : I'm...I'm not sure. But It's good that you finally know where I am, I mean, earth is a great and...Unique place to be here. But that's not the point where all of this is happening. So, I like travel and yes, you got anything for me to eat?

Penny Crygor : [thinking] Hmmm...

[Bay Area - Naofumi Hataya]

[various scenes of Penny helping Kaguya to experience her life; Penny Teaches Kaguya on becoming a better human; Kaguya studies on every books such as science, history, and geography; Kaguya swims in pool naked while Penny trains her; Kaguya getting a massage at a spa; and Penny shows Kaguya of choosing the right outfit]

Kaguya : Okay then, I'm ready when you are! [curtains slides]

Penny Crygor : Voila! You look absolutely perfect!

[closes up on Kaguya dressed as a business woman]

Kaguya : Does this outfit make me look fat or something?

[scene cuts to the group at cafe in downtown Salem]

Ashley : So, you finally managed to change the woman that you encounter with. So nice to see her finally manage to make her a complete woman. I'm impressed! Congratulations!

Penny Crygor : Yep! [stretches and yawn] I did all that hard work to make her a better person, Into all of putting my efforts, that's the last time I ever did something to make her do something. So, I heard that you two are on a date. Thanks for noticing that.

Kimial Diehl : Yep.

Jacqueline O'Lantern Dupre : It's glad! That Kimial and I were officially coming along together! It's glad that nobody like us are interested in any boys, thought she had a huge crush on that OX guy! And boy o' boy! Who knew that being gay is such a difficult thing for a guy like them!? Trust me, it's all in the bag! Hey, Kaguya. About what happened during our last fight, sorry for causing all the mess back there. I've hardly recognized that appreciation on how did you manage to escape from that aircraft that crashed landed into the ocean.

Kaguya : Oh, it's necessary that I have such a reputation for my acquaintance, I've did some studies, I did some accounting, and I finally recognized that I'm getting into corporate. So, that's what I really am into! Although, I do know that having corporate is like getting stuff into things what it's meant to be an adult! You, Jacqueline my friend, is a great girlfriend! And an excellent, talented person at a young age like this! I hope it's not a sin of greed or anything! Thanks for understanding me that! Hahahahaha!

"Well, I'm finally glad that this is going to be a new start for us, a woman becoming a better person on despite her arrival, I always wonder...what those markings on her body where meant to be. There's no way that anyone thought that a woman might be an agent or a spy. And I bet the one that Shinra's Grandson might be the responsible for the creation of her."

~ Nineteenth Scene : Life of Modernation ~

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littlest-dark-age · 3 years

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Damiano david headcannons

Tagging @daddydamiano @noshame-bb @mywritingonlyfans

Translations 1, my soul 2, angel 3, my love 4, my life 5, little star 6, puppy 7, bunny 8, sweetness. Please let me know if any translation is incorrect.

Damiano would always be pressing kisses into your soft skin, wherever he could reach at the moment. The two of you are cooking and you have a huge sleep shirt on that reveals your shoulders? Kiss. You're fiddling with his hands out in public due to nerves? He's kissing every finger while looking you in the eye with a grin. You'd think he's convinced its a carnal sin to not kiss you every five minutes

He would beg you to do his makeup, constantly. He loves the intimacy of it, you usually sit on his lap for it and the way you gently cup his strong jaw turns him into an absolute puddle. You lose count of how many times you have to make him look back at you because he just wants to close his eyes and sink into the warmth you radiate. But you can't be mad at him, not when he looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes, shining with love.

Damia would absolutely give you one of his rings, and if it doesn't fit your fingers, no worries. He'll just give you one of his chains to put it on. He loves to kiss it when you wear it, whether it be on the chain or your hand. It always makes his heart skip a beat, a claim to the world that he was the lucky one to capture your affections

Please play with his hair, please. He will turn into a puppy the minute your nails graze his scalp. It doesn't matter the length, he loves it. His eyes slowly shut as you scratch at the shaved sides but he'll deny that he's about to fall asleep.

Spa nights. Just, spa nights. He will let you put the cute animal headbands on him to keep his hair out of his mask, even letting you put it on him. Dami would love to watch movies like Legally Blonde and Clueless while you paint his nails and the glittery mask on his face dries. Never wearing a shirt, saying he wants skin to skin with you as he raises your shirt up to your chest so the two of you are pressed together. He'd sit on the floor, letting you work the hair mask through his hair as the first movie goes off and he starts to hunt for another, one of his hands stroking your bare leg.

Sleepy make out sessions are his favorite, after he's had his tea and the two of you are dead tired but can't stop. Even going as far to tell you that the two of you really should go to bed, as he's sweetly kissing you. There's no rush to it, no need to hide away your love as it's just the two of you. Locked away from the rest of the world, where damiano david is just yours. Where his nose keeps bumping yours just so he can hear you laugh and have you rub your own against his, like a bunny. His hands snaking up the back of your shirt to stroke down the length of your spine with the tips of his fingers. Barely enough for you to be able to feel it.

If you were okay with it, he would absolutely want to tattoo you. He would never pressure you to if you really didn't but he would try to convince you if you were on the fence about it. If you let him pick, good luck. It would either be something like 'i am yours', which he would get a matching one. Probably around his heart. Or it would be something for måneskin. To have something he worked so hard on, permanently on someone he loves so so much would have him ecstatic.

The pet names. They're never ending and ever changing. He says he can't help it and that he just says what comes to mind when he sees you. Whether that's anima mia 1, angelo 2, amore mio 3, vita mia 4, stellina 5, cucciolo 6, leprotta 7, or dolcezza 8. You never know which one to expect but they all bring a smile to your face, nevertheless.

Damiano would always ask your opinion on his stage outfits, not really for reassurance but more so to involve you in every possible thing he can. He loves your input and always takes it into consideration. And you help him remember some things, like something might make him too hot or might restrict his movements on stage. The practical things he doesn't always think about, more focused on the look and aesthetic of it.

Pictures, pictures and more pictures. He loves taking pictures of you doing the smallest of tasks, especially for when he has to be away from you. If you hid your face, he would still adore the photo but pout a bit because he couldn't see you. Even if photos could never compare to the real thing, in his words. He just wants you to be able to love yourself the way he loves you. He doesn't care about some imperfections, they're what make up you and everybody has them. So, it's probably easier to just let him have his pictures.

His lockscreen is a picture of you and him with the cats piled up between the two of you. You didn't even know he took it until you went to check something on his phone for him. Dami says you look so peaceful in it, pressing a kiss to the cat's head with your eyes closed, and that it always helps him calm down when he looks at it. That it reminds him of home when he's not there to hold you on the nights on the road. Although, his wallpaper is an entirely different story. A bit more...spicy, if you will. It's a picture of you laying in bed wearing black lacy lingerie with a camera in your hand, and Damiano's legs are able to be seen straddling your waist.

He might not always be able to call or facetime during a tour but believe it when he makes those calls worth it. He loves to be able to call you for hours at a time and if time zones allow it, go to sleep with you on call. If not, that's okay. He has your time zone saved in his clock so he can always be sure to send you a goodnight or good morning text, even if it's a bit late or early. Damia needs to have that little slice of normalcy to keep him from going crazy during the tour. He lives and breathes music, don't get me wrong. But you are his soul and his mind, without you, there would be no music.

If you're out with the band, he will pull you as close as you'll allow. Even onto his lap if it's a more private place or just you and the others. But this also means you'll be poked and tickled the entire night, even if you slap his hands away. He can't keep his hands off of your ribs, no matter how sore his hands get from your smacks. He compares it to when a kitten nibbles on them.

Damiano needs to be convinced to take a break and slow down, often. He gets so swept up in it that he doesn't realize he hasn't had a proper meal in a couple of days or that he's been skimping on sleep to write lyrics and play around with harmonies. Getting him out of the studio is hard, but much needed. He will appreciate it, as well as apologize for neglecting you for the past days. A nice date or just something to get him outside is just what he needed. No matter how casual it is, being able to relax and spend some time with you is one of his favorite things to do.

Some of his favorite dates are the ones where the two of you are able to just do something and have a good time without the pressure of having to dress up and get ready. He still uses the heart shaped mug you made him on one of your dates, still listens to the record you got him when the two of you got all of your favorite albums and swapped. He still has the tickets from the first movie the two of you were able to go and see together, stuck in between the worn pages of some old book of italian poems he's had forever

His love language is a mix of acts of service and gift giving. He loves to give you little trinkets and stuff he finds while on tour, each item reminding him of you in some way or another. Even if it's just a rock he thought you might like, a pair of earrings you've mentioned before or even just something he thought you might could use. And he will give you one of his oversized blazers if the two of you are out and it's cool, even make sure you have enough to eat and offer you bites of his own food if you want. Hell, if you wanted what he ordered versus what you ordered, he would swap it even if your dish isn't his favorite thing.

Dami loves cooking with you, there's something so domestic about it that he can't help but imagine your future together. He always claims that the meals the two of you prepare together are the best thing he's ever eaten, no matter how simple it is. Just don't break the pasta in front of him, you'll send him into cardiac arrest.

He loves it when you trace and kiss his tattoos, they're something he's proud of and knowing how much you like them just makes him happy. Of course, he knows you don't have to adore every tattoo he has as long as he's happy with it, but it still makes him feel nice when you show his ink a bit of love. It always tickles him a bit when you drag your nail on the ones in his chest, sending shivers down his spine when you do.

He is a cover hog, yet denies it with every bone in his body. He claims you push them onto him most of the time, despite the fact that you struggle to cover up completely whilst he's on the other side of the bed bundled up like a baby with almost the entire cover. Thankfully, he's warm enough that you can just curl up behind him or into his side and get all the heart that you need from him. He still denies that he hogs the covers when the entire comforter is in a pile on his side, almost like he's trying to build himself a nest

Showering together is one of his favorite things, he loves how intimate it can be. Holding you and helping you wash up without any need to be awkward and feeling comfortable in your own skin in front of each other means so much to him. Being able to be open with one another and not hide anything, even if it's insecurities about your body. He understands that the world isnt always the nicest place and that he can't undo how people's words might hurt you but he'll try his best to get you to love your body

Damiano would love to teach you italian if you didn't already and wanted to learn. He's so excited to be able to share something like this with you that he doesn't realize how hard it is to teach someone an entire language. He overestimates himself and how good of a teacher he is, but that doesn't mean he won't try his best. It just takes a little bit of time, for the both of you. He understands the struggles of learning a new language and wouldn't try to push you to learn it so soon. After all, Rome wasn't built in a day.

#damiano david x reader #måneskin #maneskin #damiano david #damiano david x y/n #damiano david imagine #damiano david headcanon #måneskin x reader #måneskin x y/n #måneskin imagine #måneskin headcannon #maneskin x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin x y/n

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lazywolfwanted · 2 years

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MKR x Ink!Demon![Y/N]

[Chapter 3]

Reader is gender neutral, I ain't like choosing gender so I make S/O use they/them.

English is not my first language, so there might be a bad grammar and wrong spelling.

They don't know why.

Why are they following the group of six from a far, "T'sk." they spat. They follow them not because of the offer but they just wanted to make sure the monk is safe.

They didn't know why they care, but the monk have reminds them about someone from the past.

'Urgh! Knock it off [Y/N]! It's in the past! He's gone!' they scream in their mind. Paused, they look down on their palm.

'He's gone...' they sigh, looking back where the group are. They saw their were resting so they went a little closer and hid behind a tree.

As the night went unfolded, the ink demon stare down at the group from the tree banch. They still questioning on why they care about if the monk is safe or not, they just couldn't tell.

They saw one of the bushes move, a demon then appeared and saw the sleeping group. It bare it teeth when it saw Sanzang, launching forward only to be pulled by the legs.

It look at the back to see a puddle of black inks, an inky hand was gripping it's legs. Pulling the demon in the liquid, the demon screech before fully disappeared through the inks. Wukong jolt awake and look around, seeing nothing. He groan and rub his head, he then saw a puddle of inks slowly disappeared from the corner of his eyes.

Next morning, they follow the group from afar. Watching them through shadow, they can't believe they're doing this just because they wanted to make sure the monk is safe and sound from harm.

I mean he is safe under the protection from the demon trio but the ink demon was insisted and follow from the back.

'Urgh, why am I doing this again?' they ask in their mind.

Let just timeskip already:

The ink demon keep a hawk eyes on the group, Bajie once pointed out about he have a feeling they being watched.

Without the group knowledge, the ink demon was protecting them from other demon that try to sneak attack.

Their reason is still the same, to make sure the monk is safe. They keep on telling themselves to just leave the group alone but their soul was refusing on leaving them...not yet at least...

Nowadays, they could tell that the Sage has become suspicious. They keep hiding themselves from him whenever he glance back or snuck away from his master to just wanted to caught who has been watching them over.

Now they're in a palace, the ink demon have a bad feeling about the place.

'Something's not right....' they follow after the group where a mistress greet the monk. The demon trio was looking around, they move a bit closer to heard the conversation of the mistress and the monk.

They then caught a small pink creature was sitting on his shoulder, 'Since when?' they ask themselves. Shaking their head and trail after the golden cicada.

"This right here, is the room where you can find the kage. He already expected you to come." the mistress said and walk away, the monk knock on the door while the ink demon silently went inside.

A raspy voice call and invite him in, he was hesitate but walk in. The ink demon wait in the corner of the room, watching them in shadow.

"Ah, the golden cicada. I hope you have a nice day." the kage state, they squinted their eyes suspiciously. "And a Qi Energy? I have heard about it." he added.

The monk gave him an uncomfortable look, "You seem uneasy, don't worry. I won't bite." the ink demon grow silently.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘏𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘳.

The kage walk closer towards the monk, "I heard you want to have a stay in here for one night. I have order the kabuki to set it for you." the monk back away as the kage walk closer towards him.

"But to bad thought..." he open his mouth, showing him a sharp teeth and long tongue. The monk gasp, the kage launched forward only to be tackle down by something wet.

The ink demon screech, baring their teeth at him with their black eyes glaring at him. Summoned a puddle of inks under them and push the demon inside with them following.

The monk breath heavily, an inky hand shot out from the puddle. Pushing the person out to revealed the ink demon. They look at him with ink cover their upper face, fully out from the puddle and wipe away the ink from their face.

Putting on their glove, they walk towards the monk. "You good?" they ask, snapping out from his gaze, "Yes, thank you for saving me." the monk state ans smile at them.

"Yeah yeah whatever. That bastard was suspicious so I have to follow you." they said while glancing away.

"I hope you two have a great day." they said and bow before leaping through the ink and disappeared from the two sight.

A black flower was place instead of a ink liquid.

Finally, this take four days. I left it in draft thanks to school for that.

#sun wukong #monkey king reborn #sun wukong x reader #bendy the devil

65 notes · View notes

soulquirk · 3 years

Text

a/n: this took way too long to finish, AND I'M LATE, but here it is! super special thanks to @vivianvampyric for beta-reading, you rock <3

This work is part of the Soulmate Syndrome collab with members of @rat-suki's server The Sewer. Please go check out the other lovely writers under this collab! Please be sure to read all warnings.

pairing: azumane asahi x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, suggestive content, daichi being an asshole older brother because That Is What He Does

word count: 4.8k

this work belongs to user bokutodotgov. do not repost. minors do not interact.

[link to ao3 version]

enjoy!

It's always been there.

The markings on your wrist. A complicated band of swirls, loops, and turns. Your Soulmate Bracelet.

Everyone had them. Some people had them further down their forearms, some on the tips of their fingers. Those were the lucky ones. They'd met their soulmate; the tattoo moves when you get close to them and connect at the first touch.

Yours never moved. The jet-black ink remained firmly in line with the end of your humerus.

It was a good thing, you hoped, that your soulmate wasn't too far from home. It was a good thing, you hoped, since the further up your arm your Bracelet was, the more distance between you and your soulmate. One of your childhood friends wasn't so lucky; her Bracelet wrapped around the apex of her arm.

"Oh man, I'll never find my soulmate!" She had lamented. "He's probably halfway across the world! What if he's American and doesn't even know Japanese? How will I even talk to him?"

You tried your best to comfort her, that everything happened for a reason. But you knew that she wouldn't have it as easy as you; your soulmate was probably in Miyagi too, judging by the placement of your Bracelet.

These days, you had all but given up. You were in high school, at Karasuno. You didn't get to see your volleyball-obsessed brother, Daichi, much, but it seemed he'd met his soulmate already with his Bracelet rising to the pads of his calloused fingers.

"Nii-chan, who's your soulmate?" You had asked him one late night.

The dark kitchen illuminated by moonlight served to only exaggerate the lines on his brow. He seemed troubled, not normal for someone who had met the person who would love him for the rest of his life. "It's...it's complicated."

"How is it complicated? You touched already; you have to know!" You pressed.

Daichi sighed. "Listen. You can't--you can't tell anyone. Promise me that. Not even mom or any of our other siblings. Can I trust you?"

You were a bit taken aback. Who would Daichi want to hide from everyone? Was this girl so troublesome that it would be cause for secrecy? "Yeah, you know I won't snitch. I'm not like Kaori."

He chuckled softly. "You have to let that go. Kao-chan only meant to keep you safe."

"Whatever. Now tell me!"

Daichi inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower. "Koushi."

You gasped a little too loudly in the quiet kitchen, to which he shushed you. "Sugawara-san is your soulmate?"

"Keep your voice down!" He whisper-yelled. "And yes, he is."

After a moment of silence, you needed to know more. Daichi was a pretty to-the-point guy, but his lack of detail sometimes frustrated you. "Well, tell me more! How did you find out?"

He hesitated again, gauging the weight of his secret. "I clapped him on the shoulder after practice one day, and a little while after, I noticed my Bracelet had moved down to the middle of my hand. I had no idea it was Suga until he slipped in a puddle outside Coach's store, and I caught him by the hand. I mean, sure, we've always been close since we were first-years, but I didn't know my admiration for him ran that deeply."

You took a moment to drink in the story, but you needed to know what happened next. "And then?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Daichi continued. "We kinda just...stood there for a moment. His markings met mine, and he looked at me. His eyes...god, his eyes, they looked scared. But, at the same time, he looked relieved. I don't know if I've ever met someone with expressions as complex as Suga’s." He paused, taking in a deep breath.

"God, you're whipped."

"Shut up. Anyway, we’d be in for it if someone saw us there, especially Coach. So, we went to his place. I told mom and dad I needed to study with him.

We...did study. It just took a while because I was a little busy studying him a bit more."

You groaned. "Gross. And also corny."

"Hey, you asked for details," Daichi smirked.

The sudden slam of a ball against the lacquered floor shook you from the memory.

Daichi had forgotten his lunch at home, so you brought it to his morning practice. He never forgets his lunch, which was odd. He must've been busy worrying about a game or his secret soulmate.

You had never visited the boy's volleyball gym before. You never needed to. Daichi always came home late, and you were busy studying or chatting with your English tutor. Yet, here you were, at the ass-crack of dawn, delivering your oldest brother's lunch.

You stood at the door, waiting for him to notice you. It surprised you at how tall the rest of his team was. One of the first-years, he told you, was 6'2". Must've been the blonde with glasses. On the other hand, another first-year with an unruly mop of orange hair was zipping around the gym. He couldn't have been more than 5'7".

"Hey, can I help you?"

A deep voice spooked you, and you turned to see where it originated.

A very tall man with long brown hair and the beginnings of a beard towered before you. He had his hand outstretched and a quizzical look on his face.

He was beautiful.

"Oh, sorry, I just came to give Daichi-er, sorry, Sawamura-san his lunch. He left it at home." You began.

Daichi noticed you then, coming over quickly. "Hey, what'd you need?"

You noticed Suga staring at him from behind. "Your lunch, you left it." You scolded playfully, handing him the bag.

"Oh, thanks." He said, taking it.

Another short player with black and blonde hair peeked out from behind your brother. A guy with a buzzcut accompanied him. "Hey, Daichi, who's this? Your girlfriend?"

You laughed. "Please, like I'd date this asshole. I'm Daichi's sister."

Talking to him seemed to garner more of the team's attention. Soon enough, most of them gathered around and badgered you with questions.

"Guys, shut it! Get back to drills, now." Daichi commanded, and the team followed his order immediately. Only Suga and the guy who had greeted you before remained.

"I'm going to the library," you said, turning away from the gym doors. "Have fun with your kids, Daichi-nii!"

His friends laughed. You glanced over your shoulder to see Suga resting an elbow on your brother's shoulder.

Yep, you thought, he's definitely whipped.

You made your way across campus and said hello to some of your classmates also there for their early-morning extracurriculars.

When you finally reached the library and settled in, the mundane task of grabbing a pencil from your bag suddenly became the highlight of your day when you finally noticed.

Your Bracelet had moved.

In the place it had remained for the first seventeen years of your life was bare flesh, while the skin resting on your carpal bones gave the Bracelet a new home.

The focus was no longer on studying. Who had you met in the time from going to the gym to coming to the library? No one you hadn't seen before other than the boys in the volleyball gym. Could it have been one of them?

No, none of them had come close enough for the Bracelet to move. So who would've gotten close enough for the markings to shift?

It had only barely moved; maybe your partner was just a little closer than usual? Maybe they were passing through town?

And then the first bell rang, and you forced yourself to stop thinking about it altogether. School was way more important than dwelling on soulmates right now.

The rest of the day passed on like normal. The ink on your hand didn't make any more surprise movements. You didn't feel that strange presence that many of your found-soulmate friends had talked about. It was like nothing even happened.

But you couldn't deny it. Somehow, someway, your soulmate had gotten close enough for the markings to travel towards your fingertips, if only slightly.

"And you still don't know?"

Who in the world could it have been?

*.✧*.✧*.✧

You stopped stirring your coffee and looked up at Daichi. "Well, O Wise Brother of Mine, I wouldn't be lamenting over it if I did know, would I?"

Daichi sat back, crossing his arms. "I wouldn't exactly call it lamenting. You seem more disappointed than anything."

You huffed at him, annoyed that he was unfazed by your teasing. "I am disappointed. It's been seven years since it moved. They could be halfway across the world by now, and I'd never even know."

That was the other thing about the Soulmate Bracelets. They could only move closer to your fingertips and never back up your arm. So, if your soulmate ever moved far away, your chances of meeting would be slim to none. The Bracelets only knew proximity when it came to becoming closer. How cruelly romantic.

"I'm sure you'll find them," Daichi said, in his big brother fashion. "Now, tell me about this job you've miraculously landed."

You scowled at him. "I am not putting myself through college and working in Tokyo for you to say that I 'miraculously' got this job, dickhead."

Daichi laughed, and you continued. "Anyway, I'm working for one of Tokyo's most promising rising stars in the fashion industry. Azumane Asahi."

Daichi nearly choked. No, he did choke. Between coughs and stares of concerned passersby, he balked, "You're fucking with me. You have to be fucking with me."

"I'm...not?" You shook your head and grabbed napkins while patting his back. "Why is that so surprising?"

Daichi settled with a very dadlike sigh-slash-cough. "Are you kidding? You met him! He was on the volleyball team with me at Karasuno!"

"You forget I went to that gym like...twice. I don't remember anyone but Suga, Tanaka, and Noya."

Suga. He and your brother were married now. They both had recently put in applications to become foster parents. Japan's laws wouldn't let them adopt, but they wanted to be parents more than anything. Knowing your brother's unbreakable resolve and Suga's comic stubbornness, they'd get their way eventually.

"Asahi was the really tall guy who looked 30 at 18."

Then, it clicked. Asahi was the guy who had first greeted you at the gym when you went to give Daichi his forgotten lunch. When the other players came to mess around, he sort of...faded into the background. "Oh, yeah! You never introduced me to him. Was he a third-year like you and Suga?"

Your brother nodded. "He kept to himself a lot, but we were all close. After we all graduated and I married Suga, we kinda just..grew apart. He left to gallivant around the world with Nishinoya and pursue his fashion career. We've stayed in contact, but we're all living such different lives that it was hard to be that close again."

You both sat in silence for a minute, letting Daichi remember.

"He was the ace, you know."

"You say that like I know what it means."

"Oh, come on, did you ever pay attention to the games I watched? Or the games I played?" Daichi complained.

"Sure I did. The games were fun to watch, but I didn't really know what anyone was talking about."

He groaned, placing his head in his hands. "Whatever. What are you doing for him, anyway?"

You straightened a bit. "I'm his assistant."

Daichi nodded, considering his next insult. "So, you moved to Tokyo to be my old friend's guinea pig. How coming-of-age movie cliche of you."

"Fuck off." You laughed. "At least I'm not a cop."

"I am a probations officer, thank you."

"The difference being...?"

"I've explained this too many times. You're just an ass. So, where's his office? I need to know where to drop by so I can embarrass you."

A laugh leaped from your throat. "You come within 100 meters of that building, and I'll show Asahi your baby photos."

Daichi grinned smugly. "I was a cute fucking baby; your threats mean nothing to me."

"You certainly grew out of it." You quipped.

"Fuck you!"

"I think that's Suga's job."

"I fucking-" he cut off, laughing too hard and gaining, even more, stares from the coffee shop's patrons. "You are impossible."

"Learned from the best." You smiled.

"But seriously," He calmed down, leaning on the table and glancing at his watch. "I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you're happy. Just remember to come home to Miyagi every once in a while. Mom misses you."

You nodded. "I will. I miss you guys, too."

You said your goodbyes. Daichi had people he needed to check in with, and you had your first shift at his friend's agency.

The building wasn't some fancy high-rise or skyscraper. You found its modesty a bit strange, given Azumane's popularity. It was situated at the end of a long market row, on the corner.

The sign read "AA Designs." Fitting for his style, simple pieces that could be layered and matched in so many ways. Azumane wasn't known for very flashy clothing; he wanted a more laid-back, muted style for his pieces. In the time you had researched him, you'd fallen in love with his designs and his story. None of those online biographies or "About Me"s mentioned that he went to Karasuno, like you and Daichi. After a moment's thought, you chalked it up to a privacy thing.

You stepped through the door.

A tiny bell's jingle was drowned out by the bustling studio. Racks moving, people talking, cameras flashing. A model was adjusting his cardigan while a makeup artist struggled to get him to keep still for touch-ups.

You went up to the receptionist and gave your name. "I'm here to see Azumane-san."

The receptionist stopped typing and gave you a wary look. "Darling, everyone is here to see Azumane-san. Is there something I can help you with?" She asked curtly.

Ignoring the urge to snatch the lollipop from between her too-red lips, you continued. "I'm his assistant."

She continued to stare for a moment, then began typing again. "Have a seat. I'll call him down when he has a moment."

You started to follow her instructions but were stopped by someone calling out to you.

"Hey, you're my new assistant, right?"

Turning to the voice's owner, it felt like time slowed.

Yes, this was definitely the guy who had approached you in the gym that day. But at the same time, it wasn't.

The Azumane you had met before had his hair in a loose bun. This one wore it down, letting beautiful dark bronze hair flow past his shoulders and onto his chest. He used to have a fair bit of facial hair, you remembered, but now it had grown out quite a bit. Glasses adorned the bridge of his nose.

He was...fucking gorgeous.

"Come on up, let's get started." He gestured for you to follow him.

You complied, trailing behind him as you weaved towards an elevator.

A few people stopped him along the way, and you got a glimpse into what your job would be. Employees were asking about framing shots, where this and that thing should go, and when he would have a design ready for prototyping: all things that you’d be helping out with from now on.

When you finally got in the elevator, you properly greeted him and introduced yourself.

"It's nice to finally meet you," Azumane said kindly before shaking your hand. "I trust the trip wasn't-"

He trailed off, looking down at your conjoined hands.

You looked too.

Black markings. At your fingertips.

He was the first to break that awkward silence, stammering. "I-uh, wait, hang on-"

"It was you!" You exclaimed in realization

"Let's just get to my office first, please." He choked out.

When the doors opened, that silent walk to his office felt like it stretched for eons.

Azumane opened the door for you, then closed and locked it.

"It was you," you repeated.

He was still by the door, running his unmarked hand through his hair. "You said that. What I would like to know first is what you mean."

"I'm Daichi Sawamura's sister. We met one day. Daichi forgot his lunch. You were the one in the gym to approach me. We got really close somehow, and my Bracelet moved--I mean, I assume yours did too, but--I could never figure out who it was that made it move, and now I'm here in Tokyo after coffee with Daichi who told me who you were, and-"

"Slow down, hang on." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're Daichi's sister?"

"That's really all you got from that whole spiel?" You asked, flustered and a little annoyed.

"No, no, I'm sorry. Let me just...collect my thoughts for a second."

You didn't say anything. Azumane proceeded to walk past you and sit at his desk, grabbing a pen and clicking it a few times. The hand holding it was the one with the markings, and you stared at them for a moment.

This is really happening. I've met my soulmate...

Not exactly what I'd pictured, but this'll have to do, right? You thought, raising your own hand to stare at it.

Surely enough, all of that really just happened. Your markings had finally found their forever home, lacing through your nail beds and down to the first joints.

"God, I'm sorry."

You looked up. Azumane was clutching the pen, on the verge of breaking it. The veins in his hand were protruding, and you found it a lot more attractive than you probably should've at that moment. "What for?"

He sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I just...wasn't expecting this. I am very unprepared."

You laugh a little. "How on earth would you prepare for this situation?"

"I don't know-" He stutters. "Let's just start over, yeah?" he says, holding his hands up and open in a sort of surrender.

You nod.

Azumane stares at you for a moment, and you suddenly are conscious of how you look in front of him. Not only as his assistant but his apparent soulmate. He studies you, trailing his trained eyes over your form.

You begin to worry that you're not what he expected or hoped for. Soulmates having a rocky start wasn't uncommon, so this was normal, right? Especially in these peculiar circumstances? You were unsure.

"You are very beautiful."

Azumane's words froze the thoughts swirling in your mind, the ones threatening to suffocate you. You looked at him, at his head gently resting on the heel of his marked hand. His hair fell gently over his left shoulder, cascading onto the desk like some sort of chocolate waterfall. His matching eyes held kindness and a deep-set admiration, despite how new you both were to one another. The afternoon sun cast elongated shadows over the office from behind him. It made him look like an angel.

Is this what everyone meant by the realization? The sudden rush of feeling that consumed your mind when you finally met your soulmate? You had only been in his presence less than an hour, both back then and now. How were you suddenly so enamored with him? Why were thoughts clouding your mind of the life you'd have together, the dates you'd go on, the nights when those same feelings escalated into becoming one together?

"You are, too, Azumane-san." You say, feeling heat rush to your face at his staring and the words clouding your brain.

He gets up from his desk and walks toward you.

Nerves hit you all at once because suddenly, he's here. He's right in front of you. He's taking your hand. He's holding it in both of his, tracing his inky fingertips across your own.

His lips are on the back of your palm.

"Azumane..."

Dark eyes find yours, holding a questioning look. "Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

He freezes, and you worry that he'll back off, run away, hide. But then his face softens; a small smile graces his lips before bringing them to yours. The marked hand cupped your face, his thumb stroking your cheek and index finger resting in the dip behind your earlobe.

You never really believed in those stories about the first kiss between soulmates being some sort of life-changing, monumental experience. They seemed too exaggerated, too movie-like.

In truth, kissing Asahi Azumane wasn't like those stories. It felt like coming home after a long time. It felt like honey in tea, the smell of a warm summer morning. It felt like sticky-sweet syrup was coursing through your veins, slowing down your sense of time and place. It didn't feel like fireworks or some shoujo manga climax.

The only word that summed up the moment could only be just right. It wasn't too much all at once, nor was it underwhelming.

That is until his arm went behind you, and his free hand was on the small of your back. He pulled you into him, kissing you deeper and leaving no space between you.

You couldn't help but let out a tiny gasp. The lack of oxygen and the feeling of his massive palm on your back was jarring in such a good way, which led him to lightly teasing you with his tongue. Your hands went to his chest, surprised at the firm muscle and soft tissue all at once.

He wasn't lying about the gym thing, you thought, remembering an interview you had read about him frequenting a local fitness center.

As if you had spoken aloud, he pulled back and smirked. You smiled with him.

"Fuck, how are you perfect?"

You laugh at his words, ignoring the foreign feeling they evoke within you. It's a fire that pools lower and lower in your belly, and while you know what this fire is, you don't want to let it spread just yet. Keeping it a warm ember, for now, would be best while you get to know your boss and soulmate.

A knock sounded from the other side of the heavy wooden doors. You both broke apart, hastily fixing your clothes.

"Azumane-san, Hana-chan needs your assistance with final looks on the shoot from today." A voice came from the other side.

He sighs, beckoning you to sit at his desk.

Oh, right, you thought. This was supposed to be my first meeting with my new boss. Not my soulmate. Funny how life works.

The lady stepped into the room, apologizing for interrupting your meeting. Azumane spoke with her for a moment, going over final prep with her.

You couldn't help but feel a slight pang of jealousy.

Why did you suddenly need his undivided attention?

Why was your mind swirling with the unholiest of images when you had just officially met him?

Why did you suddenly feel the urge to shoo the woman out of the room and take your rightful place on your boss' lap?

Thankfully, she left, and you were alone with him again.

"Now," he stated, turning and walking back to you. Remaining seated, you watched with a sort of exciting apprehension as he came close and cupped your cheek the same way he had a few moments before. "Where were we?"

A few weeks passed. You couldn't exactly hide it from everyone at your agency that both you and Asahi had found your soulmates at the same time. Rumors started.

You both were blissfully unaware for a while. You remained professional at work, doing the job that you had come there to perform in the first place. However, professionalism was all but thrown out the window once the agency closed for the day. When you both were left alone in his office.

You got to know each other in between those nights. Asahi likes his coffee with an ungodly amount of creamer and sugar. He has two cats, named after Shonen Jump characters. He really enjoys taking walks with you during the early morning dawn.

When Asahi found out about the rumors, he called you into his office. "I figured this was bound to happen sooner or later."

"So...what do we do?"

Asahi thinks for a moment, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and rubbing his eyes. He sighs, then perks up, grabbing his phone and intensely looking through it.

You can't help but laugh a little. "Are you just going to tweet it out or something?"

"God, no. You deserve better than that, baby. C'mere." He gestures for you to join him behind the desk, keeping his arm outstretched until you were close enough for him to wrap it around your waist.

You felt the syrup in your veins again from his words and his touch.

Despite just getting to know each other, Asahi was your soulmate, and he really acted like it. He looked at you as if you had hung the moon and stars for him. He was so gentle with you, so mindful of his physical size when holding you or when you became intimate. You were like a deity to him, one that he knew he wouldn't lose but wouldn't ever take advantage of.

"What do you think?"

Asahi tilted his phone towards you, prompting you to look at the image of an Instagram draft.

The picture of you he had taken himself a few days prior. You were working at your desk just outside his office, focused intently on the payroll. Your blue light glasses reflected just the perfect amount of light from the screen while the setting sun cast golden rays on your skin.

He had taken this picture at such a good angle you couldn't be mad that he snuck it. "Why this one?"

Asahi tilts his head towards your side and looks up at you. "I just really like this picture. You look so perfect. I mean- not that you don't look perfect always, but-"

"I get what you mean," you reassure him, lightly running your fingers through his hair.

He smiles. "Is the caption okay?"

You glance back at his phone.

"All along, right under my nose. You were there, and I couldn't find you. Now, my days are filled with you. My one."

You nod, feeling tears prick at your eyes. "That is beautiful, Asahi."

Daichi is the first to message you about the picture. Took you long enough.

He brings you down for a kiss. "You're beautiful."

*.✧*.✧*.✧

You let the tease slide, especially since you have many more questions and statements to be handling. Asahi's Instagram post had gone viral with very mixed feelings.

Most people were happy for you and him. A couple of talk shows even mentioned that they worried he was going to end up an old maid. "I'm only 25!"

"I dunno, babe, when I found you, you seemed to be withering away," you teased from his couch while he grabbed drinks.

"Do you want me to come over there?"

"Very much so."

Safe to say, dinner was forgotten about for a while.

Others weren't so happy. You received a lot of hate and had to restrict your socials for a while. Asahi felt horrible, though you knew this was on par for dating a sort-of famous person.

You both ignored the hate you got, knowing attention was all those people wanted.

In the end, you were both becoming ever more familiar with one another; in every way. You eventually realized that it didn't take a Soulmate Bracelet to make Asahi the love of your life. However, you couldn't help but thank them for helping you find him again.

He was everything to you, woven into your veins as if he'd always belonged there. You were written into every part of him, and he cherished the words you stamped onto his heart.

Eventually, your Bracelets began to fade. It wasn't a bad sign; once a soulmate pair has been together for a while, and the relationship is meant to last, they fade naturally.

You both took the day off to celebrate when they were gone.

Asahi took you on his most extravagant date yet. First was breakfast he cooked and served to you in bed. Then you spent a good part of the day at an aquarium, adding more photos to both your socials. Media outlets called the two of you the best-dressed couple in Japan.

The night came closer when you went to dinner. Asahi seemed jittery about something, shrugging it off as simple happiness to be with you when asked.

You forgave his little white lie when you found a ring placed carefully among the fruits in your dessert. Asahi took it and knelt before you.

"I know our Bracelets are faded; I don't need them to know that you are my soulmate. However, I don't want anyone thinking we're anything less just because they're gone. So, will you take this... and marry me?"

#haikyuu #asahi #asahi x reader #asahi azumane x reader #azumane asahi x reader #asahi azumane #azumane asahi #the sewer #the sewer collab #soulmate syndrome #my posts #my writing

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angelswithcigarettes · 3 years

Text

“To find a way to cope”

Summary: Morgan finds Spencer's notebooks filled with partly disturbing drawings and poems and learns once again how much of what Spencer feels he doesn't know how to express and how much happened in his childhood he never talks about.

AU: [This is an AU in which Morgan and Reid share a house (as friends). The parts can be read independently.]

Warnings: Past Sexual Abuse

Relevant Tags: Autistic Spencer Reid, Suicidal Thoughts

Word Count: 4626

First Chapter:

Notes: Since this series is the follow up serious to another one of mine "Green" (I will link it in the endnote) there can be some confusion if you haven't read it. But here is a short summary of it so you don't have to read it all and can still 'enjoy' this:

In the story "Green" Spencer gets together with Lola who abuses him following up this abuse he stays with Morgan who helps him recover as much as that is possible. Spencer doesn't want to go back to his apartment so Morgan decides that it is time for a change, they move in together in one of the houses Morgan renovated ones.

They each have their own privacy, their own floors including bathrooms and bedrooms and each of them has their own office but its not a secret to anyone that they also don't have much privacy because at some part after living together for so many years the embarrassment or shame for many things just faded.

However when Morgan picks up a box of books in the basement while looking for his old baseball equipment he feels bad when he looks inside of them.

They are notebooks, written in with black ink and he can tell that it's Spencer handwriting. There is a date on the corner, the note book is hardly a month old. He puts it away and grabs one from further down, revealing another date from eight years ago and he opens up a random page and starts reading.

"And if you look at me

Look at me for another moment

See me

If you really see me

Can you look at me the same again."

It's seems to be an attempt of poetry and Morgan opens another page finding a scetch of a person. Also in blank ink. Their hands scratching at their eyes, looking like they are screaming.

He reads another poem.

"Can you hear me screaming?

Did you hear me screaming for you? You hands burning my skin,you hands burning my innocence.

Can you hear me screaming?

In the latest night, can you hear me screaming?

Did you hear him burning my skin, his hands burning my innocence."

Morgan can feel an unsettling feeling spread through his body, these are too old to be from the time with Lola, judging by the date he must have been in his early twenties.

He looks into another notebook finding a lot of sketches and a few of them look similar to people Morgan had seen before, he figures they are unsubs and then he opens another scatch and it looks like a women, warning a gun holster and having a glass in her hand, her hair shoulder long and judging by the date this is Elle.

Morgan picks up another one, it is dated for approximately a year ago. The drawing shows their house but the windows are barricaded with wood and nails, only a light shining out of Morgan's room and a kitten is sitting in front of their doorstep, skinny and looking up to the doorbell handing in front of the door that is also barricaded.

The next one is a drawing from their kitchen and it shows Morgan, at least he thinks so, sitting at the table with his hand on his head the other around a coffee cup and on the kitchen counter are files stacked and the kitchen table is filled with overflowing cups.

There is a third, showing their bathroom and there is a liquid on the floor,again every drawing is held black ink but he guesses its blood and a handprint on the mirror and in front of the puddle and then there is a hand sticking out from behind the curtain from which the liquid drops down.

The fourth is what makes Morgan want take the notebook with him, it's a man standing in the door and by the tattoos he can make out that it is supposed to be him but he is wearing a mask and he is holding Spencer's stuff animal in his hand while wearing only Jean's and boots no shirt. Morgan can make out that this is supposed to be Spencer's room.

The worst he finds in that notebook is one of a women, sitting on a chair, her head leaned back and her arms sliced open, blood dripping down on the floor and by the necklace, the gun at her hip and the long slightly curly hair Morgan dares to assume that this is supposed to be JJ.

He puts the notebook aside and pulls out one from the time when he started at the BAU and the first drawing is of a little boy with glasses standing in the bullpen that is crowded with files. The second is a room filled with bees at the wall and an empty chair in the middle.

Morgan knew Spencer can draw he didn't know how well he does.

There are a few sketches of Morgan and Gideon and a lot of JJ. And many butterflies and with the ripped out pages in between he guessed that he draw them for her.

He quickly puts everything away when he hears Spencer walking down the stairs but goes back down to grab the one with the poem about the 'burning hands' the one with the sketch from Elle and the one with the drawings from the house and the women on the chair and for weeks he hides them in his office and eventually started profiling a few of them but quickly stopped that, feeling uncomfortable.

"What are you drawing?" He asks stepping into Spencer's office and the man shuts the notebook again.

"I don't draw."

"You don't?"

"No, I haven't in years."

"You haven't?"

"No, I am horrible at that." Morgan steps closer and it fits what he had found downstairs. The little pencil case open, only black pens inside and a pencil with a rubber. "What did you want?"

"Nothing just wanted to check in on you." Looking over he sees another stack of papers, and in a box next to his desk watercolours. "Its getting pretty stuffed in here."

"I like it. And I would like for you to leave now."

"I will." Apologetic Morgan takes his hands up and leaves the room.

There is a high chance that Spencer knows himself that his drawings are concerning and that that is the reason he is so defensive over people knowing he draws.

He keeps his findings a secret for a few more days until he gets to concerned and tries again talking to him about it but the moment he takes the word drawings in his mouth Spencer denies having drawn in the last years and accuses him of having sniffed around his office for things he draw as a teenager.

So he takes the notebooks and in a quiet moment walks up to Hotch's office who is similar concerned by them. For him the worst is one of Spencer himself, someone pressing a hand over his mouth and him into a pillow next to a poem about the lyrical I suffocating.

"There are more that hint at sexual abuse."

"He has a history we know that."

"Some are older than what happened with Lola."

"Did you try talking to him about these?"

"He claims he hasn't drawn in years." Hotch looks further through it finding more and more thinks he finds concerning.

"There are quite a lot of you."

"That's why I am here. I was hoping he maybe would rather talk to you about it. I can't explain why the drawings are portraying me like that." Hotch looks down on the page of a drawing of Morgan laying on the couch, the TV running but he is sleeping. On the table a ashtray with smoke coming from it on the floor next to the couch, multiple books that block his way and lianas hanging from the ceiling one close to curling itself completely around his neck.

"You have a theory?"

"My first guess was that something in the house made him feel captured, or even me but I am not sure."

"I would actually say that it's the opposite. That he feels like he captures you."

"Me?"

"This doesn't look like he is the one captured." He points at another painting showing Morgan standing in the kitchen, one half of his body having spiders all over it his other side being completely normal beside the fingers that in the end turn into bees and more bees flying away from it. "Are you okay?"

"You see this drawings and you ask if I am okay?"

"Besides that these drawing are definitely not something that leave you unaffected there are a few that a showing you in a vulnerable state he probably saw this before drawing it in his own interpretation."

"I am fine, I don't know why he draws me like that."

"Alright I will talk to him about it." Morgan initially wanted to go to JJ with this but she really doesn't need to see the drawings of herself being death by suicide. There is the one on the chair but also one hanging out of a tree with wings on her back.

For Hotch the most disturbing once are the two from a child, being beaten and in the other drawing having wings sitting on top of a clip, stars around them.

Morgan brings him the other notebooks too and in the earlier once its clear that he draws what he sees on cases and around himself. The poems not so much.

But the younger the note books the more it concerns his friends and random children.

Hotch doesn't find many of himself, but there is a notebook around the time Emily died that breaks his heart and when she came back the drawings change to something with more anger and eventually one that shows Spencer and him sitting in his office, Spencer looking at Hotch, Hotch doing the same but behind Hotch stands Emily or JJ he can't tell having a hand on his shoulder and covering his mouth while Spencer has a ghost behind him, covering his eyes.

He thinks long about if he wants to talk to him about the notebooks because Spencer seems to use this to cope and that is a good thing no matter how violent they look but on the other hand it seems like something is really bothering him so after weeks of debating he hands Morgan the box back saying that it feels wrong for him to interfere and Morgan first gets angry but then agrees that it is better if he first talks to him and then can offers Spencer to talk to Hotch if he rather wants that.

So eventually Morgan breaks the ice at a dinner picking up the box and placing it on the table. "You know what this is?"

"A box"

"You know what's in it?" He asks and Spencer nods with worry in his eyes. "I found it in the basement while cleaning it out."

"Did you-" Nervous he bites on the inside of his lip.

"I did"

"They are mine" He tells him, the fear clearly audible in his voice.

"I know, I am just a little bit worried about you, there is some pretty dark stuff in there."

"You weren't supposed to see."

"But I did and I just want to make sure that everything is alright."

"Yes they are just drawings."

"They are not just drawings."

"And poems."

"Not what I mean kid" Morgan grabs the notebook on top and sits down in front of him opening the page with the drawing of their house. "Is this our house?"

"Yes"

"Can you tell me why you draw this?" Spencer shrugs ones, tears in his eyes. "These are yours and I am not judging you or am mad I just think that some of these, because this notebook was finished a few weeks ago, need talking about. And I am just trying to help you."

"I don't know why I draw this."

"What about the cat? Is that Garfield?" Garfield is an old cat they adapted years ago and died.

"Yes"

"You still miss him?"

"Sometimes I wish he comes home again but then nothing is open here anymore."

"Garfield is dead and even if he wasn't dead when we got the call he would be by now." Morgan tells him in a gentle voice. "So this is about Garfield not coming back in,not you feeling captured in here?"

A nod.

"See that's why I think talking about this is good because I completely miss interpreted this."

"Did you see all of them?"

"Yes"

"All of them?"

"Yeah, I looked through them." He nods and then a tears rolls down his face. "Come on we go over to the couch for this, we cuddle up with your stuff lion and we talk about these, you can lean against me no need to look me in the eyes or for me to see your face." Morgan over the years found out that that is what makes him feel the most comfortable while talking. Either on car rides when Morgan can't tear his eyes from the road or while walking somewhere or placed so that Morgan isn't looking into his face.

Spencer ignores the offer to get his stuff animal from upstairs but he takes the thick blanket while Morgan pulls out the cautions from underneath making the couch bigger and then leans against him and Morgan opens the next page.

It's the drawing from Morgan in the kitchen, the files everywhere and the cups on the table. "What's with the Cubs?"

"I don't remember."

"Mr I have an eidetic memory that's very hard to believe."

"Sometimes everything gets dirty in our kitchen."

"And that bothers you?"

"I try cleaning it but it seems like it doesn't get better even when everything is properly stored."

"And the files?"

"It always happens when we have many cases after another and then it isn't fun coming home anymore."

"Because its dirty?"

"Because it's all tight" He tries to explain how the house feels to him. "We can't move in here."

"Is that the same thing you wanted to express with this?" Morgan asks opening the page of him laying on the couch with the lianas from the ceiling.

"Yes and- and that I- that I take your energy away."

"Okay one point after the other, what is it with the house being to tight? We have a lot of space and a lot of garden and everything, what makes it tight?"

"I don't know sometimes it just is." He tells him moving his head back on Morgan's arm shutting his eyes for a moment and then breathing in deeply.

"We don't have to do this all now if its to much for you" He tells him worried about how this affects Reid. "You just explain it the best way you think I will see about the rest."

"You won't get me."

"I do, it's tight in here sometimes, like you can't move."

"Yes"

"And cleaning doesn't help"

"Yes"

"See not that bad"

"It makes me feel bad." He continues and then hits his thigh ones. "Like I need to run."

"Like you need to run?"

"Yes. Like I have to move. Like my legs haven't moved enough."

"Because it's to tight in here?"

"Yes."

"What about you taking my energy away? What do you mean by that?" Spencer turns his head away not looking at the page but then eventually speaks.

"I am really not an easy friend."

"For me you are."

"No I am not."

"You are not taking my energy away."

"You could do a lot more thinks if it wasn't for me." Spencer justifies his statement.

"Like what?" But he just shakes his head still facing away from him and Morgan tries encouraging him to talk to Hotch but Spencer denies the offer so Morgan moves his hand down around his waist and pulls him closer again. "C'mon you did so good with the first drawings and we won't have to talk about this one any more we can just move on to another.”

Rest on Ao3 (I can’t post more words in here I’m sorry):

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #ao3 author #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #autistic spencer reid #jennifer jareau

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neoculturetechxgot7 · 5 years

Text

Gardenia on the crown - J.J.H

4; dreams of sunshine eyes

pairing: Jung Jaehyun × Reader

genre: angst and the shy touches of fluff

length: around 2,5k words

warnings: mild swearing

// masterlist //

Starry flames flicker on the hundreds of candles saturating the ballroom with golden hues, reflecting on expensive pearls and tangling through lace trim and floral paterns. Nobility swirls around the soft notes of violin and piano, men in tailored suits kindly asking for the pale hand of shy princesses, inviting them to a dance that will stain the night with their scent.

You’re standing in middle of it all, fitted flawlessly in the embrace of a young prince's arms and slowly losing your sanity to the sight of his stunning features, iridescent shadows from the crystal chandeliers casting a sparkling galaxy on his skin. His eyes, those that captured your thoughts from the very moment their Egyptian caramel shade dipped into your soul, still have you mesmerized and utterly lost in their enigmatic depths.

He spins you around so gently, cremé gown blooming around your ankles in the heated rhythm and a moment later, you feel his fingertips sear a temptingly slow path around your waist when you step forward.

"You haven't told me your name yet..." A breathless whisper falls from your lips, accompanied by the over-accelerated pound of your heart. The charming stranger who managed to gather all of your attention to the excellence of his dance and the alluring electricity beaming from his entire presence is still hiding behind anonymity. The ache to discover something as simple as his name is swallowing you alive.

"My name is Jung Jaehyun, my lady...”

You wake up suffocated in the cradle of cloud coloured sheets, nightgown clinging low on your decolté and a rushed pulse racing through your veins. Midday sun refracts from the window, brushing peachy shimmer on your skin and a sweet heat around the endless void of the room.

Yet, somehow, your body feels absolutely numb. That night... Your brain is playing the filthiest game by reminding you of it.

Your glance swivels around the intricately decorated wooden furniture in protest to your mind trying to shove more images of that dying dream before your eyes. Sweaty fingers reach up to rub them a little too harsh, leaving you with a shadowed vision of a vortex of colours and a low sigh dips past your lips.

If you only knew that magical night would be your very first meeting with the devil personified, you would've locked yourself in the cozy escape of the underground library, or your room or maybe the kitchens...Hell, even the moldy, freezing dungeons your father caged criminals in would seem like a better option than being in that ballroom, at that time, with him...

Two sharp knocks on the door slice through your self-pity thoughts just as you're about to hop off of the comforting warmth of the bed, naked feet hitting hardwood floor.

"Come in!“ You shout, hands instinctively tugging on the white silk of your tiny sleeping dress to conceal the exposed expanse of your chest.

But the relieving sight of your maid has your limbs going slack as she walks in, a smile on her face that makes some type of jubilation sizzle under your skin.

"My Lady, you're finally awake!" The girl chirps with the lightness of her kind heart and then quickly trods towards your still seated form. "Will you be attending the morning assembly in the dinner hall or would you prefer breakfast in bed?"

At her mention of any kind of...well...social interaction with the arrogant existence of the royals, your body goes limp and fluffy pillows hug your backside as you fall back. The sole idea of seeing Jaehyun again exhausts you. It's barely been a day since you first arrived and his face is plastered everywhere. Even your damn dreams...

The maid presses her lips in an empathetic line before sparing you the most understanding of all glances. Oh, she knows better than anyone how you'd hate to see that man after having spent the entirety of last night listening to a nice, long monologue of unspeakable and profane adjectives to describe your soon-to-be husband.

Sometimes you wonder what level of patience one must hold to be able to withstand your -borderlone hysterical- hate speeches.

"I'll inform his wonderful grace of your absence, my Lady." With that sarcasm dipped remark, the girl pivots on her heels and strides towards the door, blush skirt flowing behind her. "And bring you some breakfast."

"Thank you."

♤

You finish the very rich meal within minutes -the cooks around this place are priceless, a blessing for your tastebuds- and after a little bit of sinking in a puddle of self loath and cursing your failure of a fate, you decide to distract your mind by simply getting lost in the magic of a book. Literature is a hidden paradise for you, poetry, a little heaven.

Back home, you'd always have a book resting by the wooden extend of your nightstand, every night fading between yellowed pages and inked words that took you on a trip to fantasia. Maybe reading something can help now too...right?

No.

Because you're running a dainty finger over the red and black book spines lining every shelf of the grand bookcase only to skim the leather binding of old catalogues and dictionaries. Your eyes frantically scan each and every title in search of the slightest trace of good, classic literature, those pieces that leave you gasping after the very last sentence, but to no avail. Annoyed at the obvious lack of quality writings, you pull one of the many useless books out, trying to check if the one behind it, on the inner lining, is any different.

An hour later there's a sea of stacked books expanding on the floor of your bedroom, over the oak bureau by the window and some even sprawled across your unmade bed, yet nothing seems close to your taste. You found a couple of fairytales, the ones mothers escort their kids with to the sweetness of sleep. Even dug out a little notebook full of scraped poetry, written in midnight ink and infinite pages of dreamy calligraphy. But it didn't really pick at your interest either, so it now lays untouched on your nightstand, keeping company to ruby necklaces and a porcelain vase filled with roses.

Your knees bend over the plush mattress as you take a good seat in the boredom that has already started to define this day. With nothing else to do but stay in your room and stare at the elegant carvings on the walls, your pinky is twitching; sign of the bottled up energy that's currently restricted due to your absolute refusal of meeting eyes with the royals.

If only you weren't this stubborn and lowered that ego, maybe today wouldn't completely go to waste...

Then, something tickles at the back of your head; an idea?

A library. They must have one here, right?

Maybe visiting the palace library will be a convenient option. You can still spent time alone, buried in the wrinkled edges of lettered paper, while also keeping that well needed distance from Jaehyun and his awful family.

But then again, you don't even know how to get there and the so unpleasant possibility of bumping into too familiar faces has your skin coated in a drizzle of coldness.

Even so, your feet subconsciously plant onto polished floor and lead you to the door, expensive golden silk with embroidered morning stars blossoming around your ankles. It takes you no time to step delicately into those pointed heels that clank an air of intimidation with every step, as you -for the umpteenth time- curse every forsaken force in this damned universe for binding you with such a fate.

Having to sneak out of your own royal chamber like a common fugitive simply to enjoy the smallest comfort of reading a book. Pathetic, to say the least.

♤

You find yourself striding down the seemingly endless stretch of a hallway, peach tinted light bouncing of off smooth stone that arches into a high ceiling. Large, curved openings formed the one side and thick marble columns separate them.

It took a lot of wandering around wide halls and visiting two of the many towers of this palace for you to reach this point, the faintest wave of spring heat kissing your neck and cheeks as a reward. Surprisingly enough, you were met with no person you knew, only kindy greeted by maids dressed in creamy beige, a humble smile on their faces. Once, you actually happened to spot -what you thought would be- one of the ladies of the court and her small escort following shortly behind, heavy gowns of cotton and purple satin flowing with her every delicate step. She bore an almost blank expression, lips pressed together in a manner that made you wonder if she disliked this place as much as you did.

Taking a peak outside the enormous windows, you realise you're walking the perimeter of a circular yard, the expanse of its area covered in emerald, neatly cut lawn. A whole lot of people are gathered, small kids playing around with leather balls, servants scurrying to get some random task done and a big group of men standing on the very middle, some carrying weapons of all sorts.

With feet inching closer to the stone edge, your stare rakes their sun bathed faces and thankfully you recognize none. They are all of noble ascent, from what you can tell at that distance, golden threaded crests decorating the corners of their uniforms.

While your eyes fight to grab onto the stitched details, they happen to -so tragically- fall straight onto another pair of breathtaking brown orbs and within a fracture of a heartbeat you're pulling back and hiding behind the column.

Fuck.

Momentarily, the edges of your vision blacken as you suck in hungry inhales, a nice bunch of profanities roaring in your head to mix with the thumping in your ears.

You just can't avoid him, can you?

Shaking your head to get rid of the slight panic possessing it, you slowly slide to the side again, solely to catch another glimpse of Jaehyun. He’s surrounded by a small crowd of men, holding a steady grip on a steel forged sword that's so well polished it seems almost like platinum.

What a sight.

His glove clad fingers tighten as he ducks to an attack stance, raising the light reflective metal in the air as if it's the lightest feather. You notice the absolute perfection in his technique, balanced from the very handle all the way to the sharp tip and can't help but admire how, the next second, it comes down to slice morning breeze and barely scratch Jaehyun's opponent. He's incredibly skilled, every move laced with such precision, and you notice the subtle flames his eyes emit when seizing each chance.

The other is quick to deflect any incoming hits, but still overwhelmed by their lighting speed and strength that eventually goes in for an attack himself. He bringing his own blade up and aims for the prince's chest, leaving you watching with complete devotion to the scene, as he takes a hasty step forward.

Something inside your chest clenches in such an unexplainable manner and time itself dramatically unfolds, each second slower than the previous.

But then, Jaehyun ends the match with a swift and simple dodge to the side, sword simultaneously flying to crash against the side of his opponent's armor with a loud, echoing bang.

He should’ve watched the ribs. Always watch the ribs, you think while gazing the loser gasp in slight pain.

The nobles all around the young prince cheer -much like you do on the inside without realising-, yelling out praises along with a well-deserved applause as he drops his heavy weapon, that sunshine blessed smile making another appearance. His cheekbones literally shimmer with the milky glow of victory, all of that aristocracy putting even the highest of angels to shame. He stands proud and tall, fingers carelessly ruffling auburn strands of auburn hair, their tips dripping sweat but still giving him the look of effortless beauty.

You're about to retreat back to the shadows and run away before your body gets completely enchanted by the spell of his irresistible attractiveness...but that ice in the pit of his gaze cuts straight through your unprotected soul once his head turns.

You're suddenly frozen in place, prematurely surrendered to the way his eyebrows furrow and your expectation is yet another cocky grin and probably another stupid comment meant to irritate you the moment you face him. If it weren't for the starstruck expression plastered on your face, mouth slightly agape, maybe it wouldn't have been this bad but no, that's not the case today.

It's pretty damn obvious you've been watching, pretty damn obvious you've been lurking like a creep and gawking over the impressive ability of fighting he has conquered.

And he's well aware of that fact because those pearly, white teeth get covered by a way too smug and way too annoying smirk, it's curvy edge cutting through your dignity harder than any knife ever could. You note the way his chest heaves from the lightness of a chuckle.

Oh the embarrassment, oh the pain of your intimidating facade being all wrecked down in a split second.

If only never seeing him again was an option...lf only you could stay away from his stupid beauty and bluntly cold demeanor...

"Greetings, my Lady." A honeyed voice suddenly disrupts your desperation, causing your reflexes to stick your back falt against the smooth stone in horror.

Yet when your gaze snaps to the source of those words, you find a curious and somewhat charming a pair of sunshine filled eyes trained on your form. A toothy grin, white and beaming with luxury, is spread across the young man's face, a perfect contrast to his autumn skin.

Taking in a short breath of relief, your royal instincts kick in and you bow respectively at the gentleman, while he moves forward, hands folded behind his back in a kind manner. "Good morning my Lord."

"I'm afraid I do not recognise your face, darling. Are you new around here, perhaps?" He asks and it seems as if heaven lost one of its angels; his whole being radiating a unique kind of divinity as he stands so confidently.

"Oh yes." Your knees bend once more as you quickly introduce yourself, trying to sound as formal as possible, getting over the previous scare. "My name is (Y/N) of the (Y/L/N) dynasty and I'm present here as the rightful betrothed of prince Jaehyun."

His eyelids momentarily shot open after hearing your title, almost in shock, and that smile flashes impossibly brighter before he bends in respect. You feel warm fingers snake behind your own and with an airy pull he places a fragile peck on the back of your palm, as soft as freshly picked petals, to make you shudder.

"I'm so delighted to finally meet your grace. I am prince Heachan, cousin of your beloved."

You internally cringe at that last comment...As if Jaehyun and his wholesome stupidity could ever be loved...

"Nice to meet you too, prince Heachan." Your reply comes with a slight tilt of your head, pleasantly surprised at how well behaved and gentle he looks and acts, despite being a member of that horrible family.

Heachan takes a short look around, as if searching for something, and then aims his friendly glare back at you, this time baring a questioning expression. "And you're here without your escort?"

Your shoulders quickly stiffen, realising you have to explain yourself for carelessly wandering around the palace without a single maid accompanying you, something highly unusual for someone of your importance.

He notices that and chuckles and your heart softens at the way the apples of his cheeks shine with such a dull pink.

"Well, I'm looking for the library and..." Your eyes trail a regretful path down the hem of your dress, feeling a little embarrassed at the words you're about to speak. "I think i got lost..."

The boy laughs again, this time a little louder and more genuinely, one hand propping on his waist, sinking into the bejeweled red velvet of his shirt while the other makes an airy gesture. "This definitely isn't the library, or anywhere close to it, dear."

He extends an inviting palm, eyes glimmering with traces of a blazing summer and the tint of pure gold as he continues. "But I can take you there, if you please."

previous || next

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creedslove · 6 years

Text

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

A/N: This used to be a drabble series, but I can't stop writing long chapters! LOL, I also came up with a name for this series it is 'The Animal Who Dreamed He Was A Man' I know it is quite long, but I think it suits Victor's situation and how he feels about it! I'll probably organize a small masterlist with all the chapters of it so far, because it is quite tiring adding the links every time I'll post a new one (and because there are more chapters to come!)

Enjoy!! 💕🎉

Y/N was pacing around the room worried, Victoria’s birthday would be in four days, soon her little girl would be three. Time really flies. However, a date that always filled her with happiness and joy, now brought her sadness and worries. Victor was back in their lives and nothing could stop him. After telling him their daughter was actually Logan’s, the feral mutant seemed heartbroken, to the point he gave up his revenge momentarily, but Victor Creed has never been one to quit what he had planned, and knowing him, she also knew he had an appreciation for special dates. Her biggest fear was having him showing up again in order to scare Victoria or worse. He seemed to have had a soft spot for her, but now he thought she was Logan’s, Y/N couldn't rely the safety of her daughter on that. To make things worse, Logan had been more at the Institute than at home, which made the young woman unsettled. She didn't want to admit, but being home alone with Victoria while Victor could kick the door open at any minute, and the terrorist mutant attacks increasing - which the X-Men were pretty sure Creed had something to do with it - made her scared.

She was ready to start her day when there was a knock on the door, she wasn't expecting anyone, so she needed to be careful. Getting close to it enough, Y/N only felt the impact of someone bursting into her house and throwing her onto the floor. Some men entered her house, they were full of disturbing tattoos covering their entire body and face, just the mere sight of it was unsettling. Almost like a cult or something. The one who appeared to be their leader walked towards her, his clothes were dark and thick, and he wore gloves like Rogue’s, hiding pretty much his entire body. Taking a closer look, she saw that beneath the ink, his skin was burnt, big and thick scars among the dark patterns he had. He seemed to notice and gave her a sinister smile, while the other men brought Victoria who was screaming and squirming, trying her best to bite and claw her attackers with her small talons. The group quickly tied the two of them together, while grabbing their gallons of gas. Y/N was terrified, they would set both her and her daughter on fire.

“You see, my child, I have no problems with you or your lovely daughter, yet, your former lover, Sabretooth still owes me.” He explained while walking out the door.

“It took me a long time to find something that really mattered to him, so I guess we can be even now.” He lit up the match and threw it on the floor, making the fire spread.

Victor could swear he has never felt as angry as he did at that moment, seeing those huge grown men attacking the frail and the cub brought out the animal in him, he saw the fucker leaving the house and recognized him immediately, he wanted to kill, slash through the flesh until his claws scraped the raw bone, however, he had no time, he needed to get the frail and the cub out.

He crossed the street running on all fours, and as soon as the frail could register, he was already slashing through the men, killing one by one until there was just a puddle of blood. He quickly cut their ropes open freeing the two girls. Victoria cried scared while hugging her mother. Y/N looked at him unsure, she wasn't sure she should hug him out of gratitude for saving them or slapping him for… well, everything.

“Come on, you two have to get out of here before they come back” He commanded and Y/N nodded, at least she wasn't being a stubborn bitch like always.

“Mommy, no!” Victoria begged and cried. The fire was now spreading even faster than before. “Kitten! I want my kitten” Y/N looked confused for a while, maybe it was all the smoke and the episode itself, but Creed quickly got what the little girl meant. He told them to wait for him outside as he ran upstairs, grabbing the stuffed little kitten he had gotten princess, but not without stopping by the frail’s room first.

***

When they arrived at Victor’s cabin, Y/N took a deep breath, she hadn't been there since she got pregnant, which was now almost four years ago. She realized Victor also noticed her reaction because he snarled at her. Apart from the moment he went full feral and saved them, he pretty much ignored both of them the rest of the trip, even when Victoria tried to hug him, he denied it. The little girl had calmed down after getting her kitten, it wasn't the toy itself, it was the scent, her father’s scent. Even if both of them weren't aware of it, being in the same car as Victor for a couple of hours, made her relaxed. But a few hours after arriving at his place, however, the sweet girl seemed to have been replaced by a brat; she was agitated and desperately trying to call Victor’s attention, she just didn't get why he was being like that, he's always been so nice to her.

“Play with me, Victor?” She stood up in front of him, proud of her new unicorn shirt. He even stopped by a department store to buy her and the frail some clothes. That was the runt’s job, not his, but he still did it. She smiled sweetly at him.

“No.” He said coldly and went back to check his phone, looking for some news of their attackers.

Victor Creed didn't do ‘play with cubs’ especially if the cub was runt’s. He had no obligation whatsoever of playing dad for that little brat, she would eventually grow up and hate him, just like her mother and father did.

“Victor, please! She's just a child” Y/N said feeling her heart clench, she knew why he was behaving like that.

“She's your daughter, not mine, you deal with her” He replied coldly and locked himself in his office. He ignored Victoria’s teary eyes while she pressed the stuffed kitten harder against her chest and ran towards her mom, who whispered in her ear to stop crying and leave him alone.

He felt bad and he didn't like it. Why was he feeling like that? Jimmy was the one who saved damsels in distress, not him. His brother was the one who had a happy little family, not Victor. He was just a lonely animal, again, who dreamed he was man, all because of that fucking frail, who made sure to show him he'd never be able to have a normal life, like most humans and some mutants do. He wasn't entitled of love or affection, just blood and pain, whether he was the one causing it or the other way around; and she did that in a the most painful way he could think of, by creating with his brother, what he always desired having for himself. And still naming the cub Victoria. Did she really think he would never find it out? Unlikely. She definitely did it on purpose, like a way of saying ‘sorry, I had to pick the decent brother, but thanks for the memories by the way’. He removed the metal box he grabbed from her room and left it on his desk, he had seen its content before, during one of many times he walked around her house without her knowing. That fucking frail annoyed and made him mad, he wanted to destroy her, make her suffer, but he cursed himself every time he realized he couldn't.

On the other hand, the two of them were scared, they’d been attacked - because of him - and the princess was just confused and frightened. He rolled his eyes at himself for caring, she was just an annoying kid, why did he feel bad for being harsh towards her anyway? He decided to leave his office, only to go to the living room and find Victoria sadly playing with her kitten. She noticed he was there but didn't dare look at him.

“Where's your mom?” He asked her softly

“Bathroom” She replied as she softly ran her tiny claws through the toy’s furr. Victor saw Y/N returning the room, she had washed her face, she'd probably been crying.

“You liked the kitten, didn't you?” He purred and got on his knees, looking at her. She was just as beautiful as her mother, the runt was truly one lucky bastard.

“Yes…” she said unsure thinking he'd be mad at her. He chuckled and purr, making her smile timidly “wanna know my kitten’s name?” she asked him now looking directly into his eyes. Both Victor and the cub had the same eye color, but neither of them noticed it, except for Y/N.

“Sure” he gave her a fanged grin.

“My kitten’s name is Vicky”

Victor had to let out a laugh that was just stupid he could tear that damn toy into pieces, but since she was expecting any kind of answer he nodded.

“Wanna play by the lake?” He invited her and saw her small bright eyes light up even more.

“Can we, mommy?” she asked happily seeing Y/N nod.

***

“Victoria, don't claw the fish!” Victor commanded as Y/N watched the two of them playing around, she was sitting on the grass watching their interaction. It always made her heart melt whereas it brought her a great sadness at the same time. For a moment she was so lost in her thoughts, might-have-beens of what her life could’ve been like, what their lives could've been like if she had stayed.

Victor sat by her side in silence while his gaze watched Victoria play attentively, making sure she was safe.

“Victor…?” The frail asked him and he looked at her and raised an eyebrow. She swallowed and smiled a little “remember once we came here and had a picnic? You didn't want to, but I insisted so much you…”

“Don't.” He interrupted her.

“What?” She asked confused.

“Cut the crap, Y/N. You don't need to pretend you liked being here in the first place or you are enjoying it now”

“But Victor, I…” He groaned, making obvious she'd better shut up.

“You are only here because those guys wanted to kill you to get back at me. It was my fault and it was also my duty to get your asses out of trouble” He told her sharply. What the fuck was she expecting? They were going to have a honeymoon? “As soon as I get to kill them, you are free to go back to the runt” He stood up and was about to leave when he felt her delicate fingers on his skin, her hand holding him by his wrist.

“Thank you, for you know…”

He knelt and eyed her one more time, his gaze making her a little uncomfortable, as their faces were inches away from each other’s.

“You don't have to thank me. You and the runt… Nobody kills you two but me”.

***

Victor woke up and groaned, his bed was still emptier than he expected. He even ran his hand through the mattress in order to find the frail and pull her closer again when the memories returned him: Y/N leaving, having a baby with the runt, living a happy normal life and being attacked by The Cult. It still took him a few minutes to realize the scent, however, wasn't on his imagination, but it was there, lingering around his entire house. That's been his life for the past four years, pathetically wanting to wake up next to her, when she was already gone. Longing to smell her scent, even after it had faded. He was ashamed of being so weak like that, and it only made him angry. He was thirsty, so getting up and going to the kitchen was a logical idea, which brought him regret the moment he saw the frail sitting on his kitchen counter, with a glass of water in her hands, wearing nothing more than just a nightgown.

“Get off my counter” He said annoyed as he helped himself as well. For the first time since they met again she giggled. And as always, she looked gorgeous when she did it; Victor hated it, it always made things hard.

“Sorry, I couldn't get to sleep” She explained and took a good look at his shirtless frame.

He seemed to notice it, because he turned to her and took one step towards her. His bare skin brushing against her knees, she bit her lips, trying to control the urge of wrapping her legs around his waist. Both of them felt the tension in the air, and they knew they were trying hard not to forget about everything that happened and touch each other again, like they did so many times in the past. A turmoil of feelings took over Y/N and she avoided his predatory gaze as she looked down.

“Victor…” She called him again, now she felt overwhelmed, the fear she felt earlier during the awful experience both her and her daughter had, slowly coming back. “Will you protect us…? Protect… me?” she asked him shyly feeling her eyes getting watery.

He wanted to say no, he wanted to tell her she should be begging Jimmy to do so, and not him, that he didn't give a fuck about her or her daughter. Better yet, he wanted to say she should've died, he wanted to remind her how worthless her life was to him, and above all, he wanted to believe those things, because it would be easier for him. Yet, he couldn't find any words other than:

“Yes…”

She sighed relieved and snaked her arms around his neck pulling him for a hug, which didn't last long though. He quickly removed her arms from him abruptly and snarled.

“Go back to bed, frail”

He saw her entering the guest room she was sharing with her daughter, and headed for his own.

_________

Tag: @bookslifeandeverythingelse @silverwing2522 @lady-bitchy @cabinedepapel @skyrim-dao-fanatic @chloejanedecker1 @kind-wolf @kittywolfy

#victor creed #victor creed x reader #sabretooth #sabretooth x reader #xmen #x men x reader #x men #liev schreiber #liev schreiber x reader #xmen imagine #liev schreiber imagine #victor creed imagine

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ask-joeydrewstudios · 7 years

Text

Henry’s Unfortunate Ink-antation [Part Two]

[submitted by: @the-elusive-blue-skittle]

Ink steadily flows from a small, two-ounce bottle and onto the wooden floor.

“Now, Henry,” Bendy grabs the new toon’s attention, tossing the empty bottle behind himself. “This! Is an ink pool.”

Henry nods, placing a finger on his chin. “I see that. So what?” “So what,” the little devil mocks. “Watch and learn, fresh meat.” Bendy proceeds to dump another bottle of ink about twenty feet away, on the other side of the room. “Stick yer arm into that puddle.” “What? Why?” “Just do it, Henry.”

Henry follows Bendy’s orders and sticks a gloved hand in the puddle of ink. Nothing happens.

Bendy whispers to the massive wolf standing next to him. “Uh-oh… He isn’t getting the gag. What are we gonna do?” “Gee, I dunno, Bendy…” Suddenly, a lightbulb appears over Henry’s head. “Oh, I think I get it now,” he exclaims, trying again at sticking his right arm through the ink puddle on the ground. With some effort, he manages to have the other arm pop straight out of the second ink puddle. Henry grins a big, goofy grin, giggling to himself giddily. The ‘toon mindset’ is getting to him again. “This is real neat!” Bendy grins with his creator. “Good! Now try jumping through the whole thing!” “Bendy, I don’t think I can fit..” “That’s crazy talk!”

Boris decides to butt in. “That’s not crazy talk! THIS is crazy talk!“ The wolf proceeds to make a variety of babbling noises, accompanied with raspberry sounds with his tongue. Bendy is provoked to smack his best buddy upside the head to get him to stop. “Do me a favor and shut up, will ya?” “Aw, but why? Look, he’s laughin’!” “… Really?” Bendy looks across the room at Henry, who is covering his mouth and giggling like mad. He never found that stuff funny before! In fact, it’s a rare sight to see Henry smiling at anything at all! He’s usually got a bored, unimpressed expression plastered on his face.

Boris looks so pleased with himself, too.

Henry stares quizzically at the puddle on the floor. “Maybe we should add more ink.. Yeah, that’s gotta be it!” “NOW we’re talkin’,” Bendy exclaims with a mischievous smile, as he runs over to Joey’s desk to retrieve another bottle of ink. “This should do the trick!”

The little devil quickly dumps the contents of the bottle on the floor, making the large puddle even larger. “There we go! Try now, Henry.”

Henry hesitantly dips the tip of his shoe into the puddle, as if testing out the waters before jumping into a swimming pool.

“Gee, fellas, I don’t know about this…” “It’s totally fine,” Bendy confidently states, placing his hands on his hips. “I’ll fish ya out if you get stuck!”

“Well, okay,” Henry mutters, wringing his hands nervously while staring at the puddle. “Here goes nothing..”

The new toon plugs his nose and hops in the pool of ink, disappearing from sight.

…

He doesn’t come up for a while. The other boys look at each other with concern, then back at the puddle.

“Should I take a look in there, Boris?” “I dunno, Bendy… Henry’s a pretty capable guy..”

A loud SPLASH sounds from the other side of the room as Henry attempts to pull himself up out of the ink.

“Fellas… A little help here? I’m kinda… Stuck.”

Bendy runs over and takes Henry by the hand, hoisting him up out of the pool of ink. “I gotcha, Henry, don’t worry..”

Henry wipes imaginary sweat from his brow.

“Phew… That was a close one,” the new toon exclaims, flicking an ink drop from his shoulder in a way that shouldn’t be physically possible.

“It’s not too much to worry about, pally. Like I said, if ya get stuck, I’ll always come to help ya.”

Henry smiles at his toony pal. “Hahah… Thanks, Bendy.”

“Now let’s try it some more around the studio,” Bendy cheers, pumping his fists above his head in excitement. “Well, alright, if you say so…” Henry smirks playfully as he follows the other boys to the music department. He’s getting a lot more used to walking with the goofy gait of a real toon.

The trio soon reaches the music department in the basement of the studio, where Sammy is peacefully writing music in his office. Bendy ruffles through his sudden pockets for another vial of ink as Henry looks on at Sammy’s door nervously. What would happen if they all got in trouble? What would Sammy do to them? His teeth begin to chatter as his legs wobble underneath him nervously. Boris gives Henry a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Henry. If Sammy says anything, we can just explain what happened and-”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, Boris. So far, the only ones who have seen me like this are you, Bendy, and Joey.. And you KNOW how Sammy laughs at anyone and everyone's misfortune…”

“Aw, you’re afraid of him laughin’ at you? Why, that’s no big deal at all!” “Maybe not to you, but this is just… Really embarrassing to me, you know? Maybe I can just hide until this is all over..” “Aw, nonsense, Henry! Who cares who’s laughin’ at you if you’re having a good time?” “Well, you’ve got a point, there, buddy..” Henry smiles up nervously at the wolf, tugging at his tie to find something to do with his hands. “I guess you’re right..” “I’m ALWAYS right.”

Bendy finishes up pouring ink all over the place with a smile. “Now THIS is what I call a training field!”

…

“HEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING, FLOODING MY OFFICE LIKE-”

Sammy pauses in the middle of his yelling to snort loudly. Uh-oh. Here it comes.

“HAHAHAH! Henry?! Is that really you down there?”

Henry crosses his arms and pouts, looking in the opposite direction with a ‘red’ face.

“Shut the heck up, Sammy..”

“HAHAHAHAH, HECK…”

Henry slowly begins dribbling ink from his form, small glops of grey ink splattering on the floor as Sammy starts to simmer down from laughing his blackened lungs out. The tiny toon chooses not to say anything, wiping his face with a goopy sleeve.

“My LORD, I haven’t had a laugh like that in ages!”

“Hey, Sammy? News flash. You’re only supposed to laugh if he does something funny. Not something he can't help,” Bendy sneers, rolling his eyes. “You wouldn’t like it very much if it happened ta you, would'ja?”

“Tch. He’s tough. He can get over it.” “Lookit ‘im! He’s a literal mess over there,” Bendy points back to the new toon, who is now kneeling on the floor with one hand pressed to his face, the other helping him keep balance on the floor. “I suggest ya get back ta work b'fore I tell Joey about this.”

Sammy swallows hard. He NEVER likes when ‘Joey hears about this’. It usually ends in him getting threatened to be fired. Sometimes, he’s even put on Ink Machine duty with Wally, which is even worse. The man blinks a few times, nodding slowly at the devil’s fierce words.

Bendy sticks his tongue out at Sammy before carefully lifting Henry over his head with both arms. Henry jumps a little, struggling, though weakly. He needs to rest, and FAST.

“Bendy,” he croaks. “Put… Put me down…”

Bendy replies, though Henry doesn’t have a chance to listen before he goes unconscious.

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

How long has he been living like this, in a world of black and white? He’s given up on trying to count, being this way for far longer than originally intended. The toon is only allowed to see his beloved wife twice a week, every week of every year. He misses when everything was colorful. He misses when he was tall and handsome and capable, now reduced to a small, little insignificant toon that never gets to see the light of day. He can’t even go out in disguise. Everyone would be far too suspicious.

Henry doesn’t quite fit in with humans, and for all he knows, he never will again. All thanks to that little prank that happened all that time ago. He’ll never quite fit in with toons, either, due to having previously been human, and therefore, taking on a more humanoid form than the rest of his kind.

“Another day, another dollar,” he moans to himself as he climbs multiple stools to punch in for the day. ‘A dollar for what? It’s not like I can buy anything since I’m stuck here…’

The toon hops down from the perch and drags himself over to the desk he’s wasted so much time in, and will continue to waste time in. He picks up the mug of ink sitting on his desk and takes a big, long swig. He’s used to the taste by now. It’s not like he can drink anything else.

Ever since he, himself became a character in Bendy’s cartoons, he’s never looked at life the same way. Now, he’s just a tool. A character model for the guy on the screen.

He longs for normality. For any semblance of a reminder of once being human. Henry puts his head down on his desk and begins to dribble, thinking harder and harder about his situation. He’ll never get to see his family or friends again. He’ll never have kids, or fulfill a happy life. He’s doomed forever to be the property of Mister Joey Drew.

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

Henry wakes up with a startled shriek. Gentle hands carefully push him back down on the warm, comfortable bed as an ice pack is placed on the toon’s forehead.

“Hey, it’s okay, Henry… You’re okay…”

“A-Alice..?” Henry rubs his eyes under his glasses and stares up at the cartoon angel. “What happened…”

“You blacked out. Bendy carried you all the way back here. Do you feel any better?” Alice asks with a hint of worry in her voice.

“Am I still melting?” The smaller toon asks, holding his right hand above his face. Nothing out of the ordinary. Well, if ordinary meant ‘a gloved hand with four fingers and a strange black outline.’

Henry begins to think about his nightmare, expression softening and contorting to one resembling intense fear and regret, though he doesn’t start to cry like he did last time.

The cartoon angel quickly notices this and wraps her light, comforting arms around Henry, stroking the back of his head with her right hand. “Henry… Please try to stay calm, okay? It took HOURS for you to reform completely.”

“Reform..?”

Henry finds intense comfort in Alice’s cozy embrace, especially with the addition of the hair stroking. It’s like his own little slice of heaven. The new toon hugs the angel back, nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck.

“Well, you basically… Puddled,” Alice states bluntly, smiling as she pets Henry’s grey hair. “That shouldn’t happen again as long as you learn to control it. I can teach you how, if you’d like.”

“That’d be great, Alice, but could you… Just hold me a little longer? Pretty please?” “Aw, how could I say 'no’ to that face?”

Henry smiles as Alice remains holding him close. This is nice. Especially after the emotional turmoil he just went through.

#batim #bendy and the ink machine #bendy the demon #alice angel #henry batim #sammy lawrence #submission #more heckin toon henry #the-elusive-blue-skittle #boris the wolf #fanfic #i love this fic so much guys its so good #SO GOOD #thank you skittle this fic is literally A Blessing

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