#Gosh I didn’t think folks would like how I drew him that much… | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamties · 4 years ago

Text

Slashers W/ a Soft Pastel S/O

A/n - So this one actually wasn’t requested, I just thought it would be super cute. And what I mean by “Soft Pastel”, I mean being into soft/pastel/kawaii fashion, I just didn’t know how to phrase it. Since there’s so many subcultures.

Trigger Warning: Slight Cursing (I say f*ck)

Also- these are gender neutral, but a few describe you in skirts/dresses, so if you’re not comfy with that, just skip that part or the whole thing?? :/

I might do more like this for other types of alternative fashion- like punk or something? Or a S/O who has a lot of body mods, I think it would be fun.

Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Helen Lyle, Daniel Robitaille/Candyman, Brahms Heelshire, and Amanda Young.

I didn’t add Michael Myers, but can do so if y’all want it. I just think he’d be very indifferent about it...didn’t think that would be very fun to read.

Billy Loomis + Stu Macher

Stu would be the most like into your outfits

Billy? Not so much. he just thinks you look cute in everything.

but if you did more guro-kawaii looks? they would both be all over that shit.

it combines more of the grotesque in with the cute- which is just perfect for the boys. they get to see you dawned in all sorts of blood, guts/gore, bandage patterns/aesthetics.

and maybe even tying in different monster-ish elements.

like wearing funky white or other unnatural colored contacts, really intense makeup(especially around the eyes), and fuck it, maybe you’re wearing faux demon horns.

I think they’d find it kinda hot. if we’re being perfectly honest here.

Now- would you able to get them into it as well?

Stu will ask you, with excitement reverberating throughout out his body and his voice. of course he want’s to at least try it!

so many clips in Stu’s hair. you haven’t even had that many in your hair before!

he may also wear rings sometimes. he thinks all the colors and designs are just so fun!

and on the other hand...

Billy, the guy that basically wore the same outfit for an entire movie? who’s closet only contains jeans and white t-shirts? trying out your style? i don’t think so lol

if you do- somehow- get him to try...

then you might have pressured him into it a bit? very jokingly, of course.

“C’mon, humor me, babe. Stu’s already dressed and everything!” You try giving him puppy eyes to seal the deal.

“Fine!” Billy says, grabbing the garment and a few clips from your hands. He shuts the door too harshly behind him.

A short silence is shared, before you and Stu burst out laughing. “Do you think he’s mad at us?” You’re hardly able to get it out. Of course he was, but in his own odd way appreciated this adventure.

He comes back a moment later, his white t-shirt replaced with a pastel red one, an especially gory character printed on the front. and a red clip barely hanging on to one of the side pieces of hair in front of his face. You try to suppress a giggle at Billy’s messily put together look.

for the love of gosh- don’t actually laugh when he appears. he is very outside of his comfort zone, and he’s only doing this because he loves you and Stu, and just,, don’t add this to his list of reasons not to try new things.

whatever your reaction ends up being, you’re absolutely obligated to tell them how attractive they look in it(even Billy who looks hella dorky).

(my art)

The Lost Boys

the comparison between their dark, punk-ish style and then the sweet baby pinks and blues, and soft lavenders that adorned your form??

it’s just too sweet.

they are completely enamored by your style- even if certain vampires (and I’m not naming any names, but I definitely mean David) may not show his love for your look as openly

Marko- he’d get one cutesy patch for his jacket, so he has like a little piece of you everywhere he goes. also...he genuinely ended up really digging your style? but not enough to abandon his punk look completely. he is still totally dedicated to that.

the other boys will absolutely mess with him about the patch though

all in good fun!

David’s not letting you near his hair with any extra clips or accessories.

Dwayne enjoys the quiet intimacy shared between the two of you. just sitting together, you might be styling his hair( super loose ponytail or braid- admit it, it would be so cute! and helpful so his hair isn’t always in his face!)...anyways, you’d use a colorful hair tie, and a few clips to help pin back his hair.

he probably won’t go out with the clips in, but if it’s just the five of you at the cave? he’ll keep it in until it’s time to sleep.

he loves seeing how happy and accomplished you look after finishing with his hair tho.

Paul is hands down the most likely to get into the whole look and go out in public with it on.

makeup? hell yeah. it won’t be as intense as yours, and he probably only does the eyes and maybe some shine. sparkly vampire time

hair accessories? all of them

would try combining his look with yours, to have a perfect mess of it.

a light, light blue mesh top, slightly darker blue jacket(with slight accents in pink, purple, white or black), and his usual sort of white jeans(?) would still look great with it. he’s absolutely rocking that look.

you are ecstatic to finally have someone else to share your passion with! (much harder to find similar folks when you’re a vampire,,)

Helen Lyle

she’s so used to the plain life around her, and she’d been living before you- you were such a breath of fresh air.

of course, you’re darling personality also drew her into you- but your fashion sense? it fascinated her.

she’s not trying it herself anytime soon, but she appreciates the fact that you enjoy it.

the most she would ever try is a very natural makeup look. and a coat or two of a pastel color of her choice.

she would love watching you get ready. not so much help out though- she just likes seeing the way you approach things. how you choose to pair certain pieces with one another.

she’ll ask questions to better understand your interests! not that it’s weird or wrong that you’re into it, she’s just a very inquisitive person.

you’d wear a lot of blue though- because you know Helen likes that color.

imagine wearing coordinated looks for different events and such. so, when you go with Helen to help out with her Candyman thesis, you might wear candy-themed attire. (of course in this universe,, she wouldn’t die! so no worries of that! you get to keep you’re gf).

if you do gift her something, she keeps it on her bedside table(or dresser). so she can still admire it, and still serves a purpose. fun décor!

all around though- Helen would be very chill, but captivated, about you’re interests.

Daniel Robitaille - Candyman

his life is so dark and gruesome, and he loves seeing you all dressed up.

and while he’s dead- long dead- and isn’t really apart of the world in the same sense that you are- it gives him this happy sense of hope for the world.

because there’s this very small thing, that you hold close to your heart, that makes you smile.

Also!!

even if they’re apart of a super awful, traumatic, part of his past- the bees are just a part of the family now.

so cute yellow/spring/bee themed outfits?? yes. ohh definitely, yes.

As for him dressing up? He’d feel hesitant.

he’s filled with immense joy around you, but is almost scared with someone altering part of his attire or self in any way(rooted back to, again, past stuff).

but part of loving is to take the person as a whole, bad parts, good parts- insecurities- the entire package. and trusting one another.

he has his whole faith in you not to do anything bad.

and so, it becomes a habit for the two of you to spend mornings together, chatting and getting ready. well, you’re getting ready, it’s more for the quality time together for him.

things are little different for Daniel. for many reasons.

one, he has very short hair. so the clips don’t really work there..

two- he only has one hand, and he’s “working” a lot with the appendages he does have. rings won’t work out because they might fall off- and he’d hate to lose something of yours.

three- he’s not a big makeup fan. he’s happy enough watching you put it on.

and then for his actual attire- he needs the coat to cover his insides. it’s also, in a way, his uniform.

you’ve settled on two things.

making homemade necklaces that can easily hide under his big coat (either sweets or honey/bee themed).

and sewing little patterns on the inside of his coat. other’s wouldn’t be able to see it, but he would know it’s there.

Brahms Heelshire

imagine being super into sorta ‘sweet lolita’, pastel/soft colors, bows, the big skirts, all the sorta ruffles(?)

and then especially if your shorter than Brahms(which is really,, not hard to do unless you’re insanely tall cause he’s,, 6 foot 3.)- and he thinks you look like such a doll?

but like,, in a nice way.

I think he’d get pretty excited if he got to help you set up your outfits!

especially if you praised him for picking out a good combo, or organizing correctly.

and some of Brahms movements are a bit awkward, he’s spent most of his life in the walls and the attic...but imagine turning on his music, and just dancing with him. having him twirl you in his arms a few times.

Brahms loves having your hands through his hair. and if hair accessories means he gets more of that love and attention? then yes,, yes he will wear them.

he just likes feeling taken care of, and along with your usual duties, you help him figure out the soft fashion styles, and how to make it more appealing and suitable for his own tastes.

because- as you insist- you want it to be something he enjoys just because he does, and not just for the closeness. though you can’t deny you love that aspect, too.

i can tell you one thing right here, though. you’re never getting makeup on him. he does not like taking off his mask, even if you’ve been in a relationship with him for a while, he still hides his face a lot.

you’d offered to do his makeup once, since he was staring so intently as you did yours. you’d made the mistake of reaching for his mask. you’d usually ask before doing so, but sometimes you’d slip up.

You apologize profusely, offering your arms out to him for a hug. “There, there, Brahms.” You smile, giving him a slight squeeze of affection.

he does take your stuff sometimes.

it’s a little annoying when you think you’ve lost your favorite accessory or dress or etc and then you just realize,, oh, it’s my favorite wall boy again. thank gosh you love him, so you’re not really upset or anything.

he just likes having little reminders of you, it gives him reassurance. upon other warm and fuzzy feelings.

if you’re able to find time in your day though, you’ll make cute little trinkets or bracelets for him. you’ll gift them or purposely leave them out for him- so you’ll still have some of your stuff when it comes to getting ready the next day.

in short- he’d much rather look at you than partake on his own.

Amanda Young

she’s never seen anything like this! :0

everyone she knows, herself included, tend to wear more dulled, plain clothes.

she’s immediately very intrigued by your attire...sort of want’s to try it, but is a bit self conscious and embarrassed to ask.

So!! you start out with small things, and fairly early on you both realize that she loves when you decorate her hair with accessories.

gifting Amanda a pair of little pig clips!!

or little stud earrings- those would be fricking adorable on her!

and she’s just so happy,, wtf

you dress mostly for yourself, but the more you’re in a relationship with your gf- the more you want to dress for her as well.

you can see this little sparkle in her eye when she sees you, and you want to keep seeing that look for as long as you can.

you slowly get her into it. your relationship and Amanda’s interest in your style just gives her so much light in an otherwise dim world.

if she did get into it, I think she’d do more creepy/cute. as a way to sort of cope with past trauma. that this sort of “bad” thing (the creepy) can still coexist with the good (the cute). she admires that quality.

just very sweet partners, who happen to love similar types of fashion

510 notes · View notes

feeling--pink · 4 years ago

Photo

Hello and welcome to I redid my age up designs because I wanted to and so I did!!!!!!!!!! :D

uhhhhhhhhh explanations under the cut as per usual!!! :D

Officially speaking: shoot I figured out what I forgot

Okay so whenever I’m drawing I always forget SOMETHING right? That’s just a thing people deal with??

Anyways I forgot the FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS (except for Huey)

It’s very important that they all have friendship bracelets but I drew this over such a long period of time that I completely forgot to give it to people where it would be visible (i.e. Dewey, Boyd, kinda Lena)

It was almost important enough for me to go back but oh my gosh these pictures literally took an hour and I'm not doing that again very sorry

just: they’re there!!!!!! I promise!!!! Its just.... invisible.....

skdhjfgk okay sorry onto the actual thing

In order of left to right also known as height order!

Huey

I didn't change much from my first time doing this!

Basically I gave him a dress shirt and a sweater vest :D

The key difference this time is that last time I made the undershirt red and the sweater vest burgundy!

This time I made the undershirt pink!!!!!!!!!!!!! :D

Y’all that pink Huey trend from a little while ago was my life force

I hecking love the color pink so much

Anyways!! Moving on: he’s the shortest lol

As I have said before “Older Sibling Culture is being shorter than your younger siblings (I would know)”

But!!! I do love the concept fo Tall and Stronk Huey so he is actually very strong!!!

Instead he’s Short and Stronk!!!!!

Webby and Boyd are the only one’s physically stronger than him but that’s because of spy training and literally being a robot (respectively)

But yes!!! Huey in a sweater vest and also very strong are important concepts so I did that here!!!!!

(hmmn.... sweater vest,, nerd,,, weirdly strong,,,,,,, oh no I turned Huey into Chidi Anagonye klsdfjhgkakjahs)

Webby

y’all I messed up so much on this one

literally so many times

since you’re reading this I'll let you in on a secret

that may not be that secret ksdjfhlkds

Anyways if you look closely at Webby you’ll probably see some weirdly placed lines

specifically around her face, shirt, hand, etc.

basically I messed up enough that I thinned the paper significantly from erasing (multiple, separate times)

so I had so go in and paste another layer of paper over the thinned layer kjjdkahfgs

But enough about me messing up!! what’s with this outfit?

This one’s mostly about Vibes

I wanted to give off a femme lesbian vibe but still keep that formality we see in Webby’s regular outfit!

Hopefully I achieved that!!!

This is one of the outfits I resigned completely from last time btw

The old one was fine but looks kinda weird to me now so this!!!

Oh yeah and I love long hair Webby a lot!!! So I included that!!!!

Louie

Louie is probably the one I changed the most about that still resembles the original design

Both times I gave him a button up for an undershirt

this is ‘cause I see y’all giving him suit jackets for when he’s an adult and he needs a middle stage before that

skdfjs- a middle evolution if you will jkadfhgkjhsfdka

But instead of a slip on hoodie over that I went with a zip up jacket because that’s just more practical y’know?

Also cheek tufts!!!!!

I had them last time too but I love seeing adult louie with full cheek tufts so middle evolution effect comes into play again!!!

He and Webby are pretty much the same height right now btw

If you want to get technical about it Louie’s about a millimeter taller though!

I think that’s all I have for him though!

Gosalyn

Okay so I barely changed anything from last time for Gosalyn

Mr reasoning behind her outfit is mostly that I wanted a flannel gay and Gos was the obvious choice for that

and I liked that decision so I kept with it!!!

Main differences this time include: hair and shoes

So for the original hair I wanted to give her the “bisexual haircut” and I do like Gos with short hair so I kept that!

But I was having a hard time figuring out how to draw her regular bang situation so I went with a totally different style instead!

But I have sense learned how to draw her hair from the show so I incorporated that instead!

In the original I also had her wearing shoes! I changed that this time because I forgot to give her shoes until it was too late! jksdafhg

Yeah this happens often kdsjhvfkajl (mostly with Lena)

Lena

Oh boy where to begin!

In the original my one and only goal was to make Lena look like as much of a Lesbian as possible

And I achieved that much!!!!!!

But in doing so I neglected to make it look like Lena

I mean well it looked like her but it didn’t give off her complete vibe y’know?

So instead of a Hawaiian shirt gay I made her a leather jacket gay!!! Much more Lena in my opinion! :D

I based her hair off of my interpretation of her Phantom and the Sorceress hair! (I know it looks nothing like it but thats how I draw it so???)

In the original I made her hair fade from pink to blue as well and I liked that so I kept it!!

Then I kept the blue button up undershirt!!

I thought about giving it pinstripes but I don't have a thin enough pen or pencil to pull that off so I didn't :P

Hint of her old green shoes coming from the sock color!

And then finally: stompy boots

Just to tie it all together! :D

Dewey

This man is LANKY!!!!!!!!!!

sorry I don't make the rules

Well technically I do sense I drew the thing- but thats unimportant!!!!

Dewey gets to be tall to annoy his brothers but in return he is LANKY tall

Otherwise I largely followed my original design!!

All my reasons for the original were solely based off of ✨Vibes✨

I did change a few things though!

For example: last time I gave him a 3/4 sleeve short and this time I just made them regular short sleeves

Last time I meant to give him shoes but I forgot so this time I didn't forget!! :D

Also cool socks!!

Oh and I added fingerless gloves!!!!!!!!

This is once again based solely on ✨Vibes✨

I can’t put a lot of my reasons into words but I personally think I captured the theater kid meets aspiring pilot meets best friend to super hero’s sidekicks meets adventurer vibe pretty well!!

Boyd

!! Okay I’m excited to get into this one!

In my original Boyd was the shortest because technically he can pick his own height being a robot and all

BUT for that same reason I made him tall because: he wants to be tall like Gyro

The idea that Boyd wants to be tall like Gyro is literally so cute yall

I also based his outfit largely off of Gyros!!!

That is: dress shirt, vest, bowtie, pants

But in Boyd’s color scheme! :D

I’m still working out how to Not to make Boyd look like a popcorn bucket but that’s a problem for another day!

Violet

To start off: literally nothing was changed from the original

akjfdsghkskhal I’m serious no color changes, no outfit elements, nothing

I liked the original one a lot so I just kept it and redid it for this!!

My inspiration for the original was as follows: ✨Librarian Vibes✨

And I think I achieved that with the original so I hope I achieved it here as well!!

Also Violet is TALL

She’s the tallest now and will continue to be the tallest!!!

I mean just LOOK at her dads!!!! They’re SUPER tall!!

So therefore she gets to be tall too!!!!!!!!!

And I think that’s it!! Thank you so much for reading if you got this far!!!!!!!!! :D

Have a nice day folks! :D

#huey duck #webby vanderquack #louie duck #gosalyn mallard #lena sabrewing #dewey duck #boyd gearloose #violet sabrewing #my art stuff #age up designs #uhhhhh idk what to say down here I kinda covered it all in the keep reading section #hope everyones having a nice day btw! :)

38 notes · View notes

shirewalker · 4 years ago

Note

ok hi veronica i need to ask you cause you’re the grishaverse tumblr on my dash but why do you ship nikolina? also why do people ship darklina and what’s the most popular ship in the shadow and bone (not including six of crows)? why nikolai and not darkling? i’m thinking of reading the books before the show cause i searched it up and it seem confusing without watching.

hello there, anon!

ok ok we got here a complex ask haha.

let’s do this by separate questions! (also, please be aware that everything I’ll say will be spoilery on some level, including the links I send, I don’t know how much you know of the story, the ending, etc, so yeah ^^)

gosh, I’ve shipped them for so long it now feels like a natural thing xD

but I guess the TL;DR could be: because he saw her as a whole person and treated her with the respect she deserved. whether he started out wanting just a political match or not, the thing is, nikolai always treated alina as... well. alina. not just as a weak childhood friend, not just as a powerful grisha.

when interacting with him, alina was herself. she was snarky, she was clever, she was grumpy, she joked, she made her own decisions. being the sun summoner was part of being herself but it wasn’t the sole thing that ruled their interactions.

I love their banter and the way they can talk to each other so easily without either having to give in or keep parts of themselves secret. and well, they had two of the most romantic scenes in the trilogy so xD

ultimately I love the trope of royal x non-royal and how they could have easily gotten a slow burn romance with a marriage alliance for political sakes but slowly grew closer. you know, a slow burn aksldjalsjkd

linking a few posts (from me and others I agree with; they’re older so they also feel fresh on fandom feels and some salty opinions too haha xD) for further reading: one, two, three, four, five, six

Most folks I know that ship alarkling (sorry, I cannot take serioulsy the other name, throws me back to 90s anime villains aslkdjalsd), ship it for similar reasons as I do: their dynamics, light and dark, hero and villain. they had really great scenes throughout the whole grisha trilogy, and they had an intriguing bond. more than that, you’d have to ask others, anon. I can only tell you what drew me in. These days I’m mostly nikolina, but in early tgt days I loved alarkling a lot and I still do love them, I just grew distant from them/the fandom for various reasons I’d rather not disclose.

I honestly don’t know anymore what’s the most popular ship in the grisha trilogy fandom anon xD I don’t really interact with the general fandom xD But it was always alarkling or nikolina. if you go deep enough in the tgtedit tag, etc, you’ll start to see that.

ok now your last question... I think it’s ultimately a matter of preference, of tropes you enjoy the most in your ships. Some people will give you x reasons why they prefer the darkling, others why they prefer nikolai, etc etc. Personally, I always leaned more towards nikolai, because for me, alarkling would only work once the darkling did some inner work. dude’s ancient, he’s got a lot to atone for and to deal with and also gotta learn how to be a person again xD and nikolai... well, like I said, he was the one who cared for alina as a whole. whether she had magic or not, it didn’t matter for him at the end of the day.

and regarding your plan to read the books before watching, I had already mentioned this in a pre-post but I’m not sure if you saw it so I’ll say it again ^^, I agree! I usually prefer to read a thing before watching the adaptation, even if it takes me time to watch the thing. I usually end up having a much better experience enjoying both mediums than if I did it the other way.

anyway!! this ask has gotten LONG so I hope it was worth the wait dear anon! and I hope I made enough sense with my rambling alskdjaklsd

thanks for sending this! <3

#Anonymous #Questions #nikolina #grisha #apologies for any typos etc #this got long so alskdjasd #feel free to ask me more if you have more questions!

15 notes · View notes

oxnardsart · 4 years ago

Photo

http://boxer-beats.com

Foxie and Lesbuni reunited But that isn’t the end Foxie was holding a secret within A part of yourself you can’t hide from a friend Anomaly’s story’s about to begin Anomaly was a white fox with a lavender tummy. The young fox was an entertainer, who wore a classy top hat! They weren’t completely masculine - Anomaly had a feminine side too. Below that gentlemanly top hat was a brightly colored cyan tutu on top of a purple tutu on top of a neon pink tutu, and boy was it hard to look at. Like seeing a cartoon character in real life - that’s what Anomaly was! That’s actually what he was. Anomaly wasn’t a real animal. He was a character Foxie made up. Before Foxie was sent to jail, she was a dancer, a singer, and she travelled around with a group of musicians. They all put on fun shows together! Foxie couldn’t perform with them anymore, but she still thought of songs and stories during her downtime. She was creative at heart, and her art never stops! At first, Anomaly was a character Foxie made to star in one story - but then he wound up in a second story, and got a cameo in another. She shared the stories with others in jail, who all had a lot of fun creating their own imaginary adventures. Foxie ended up using her character so frequently, the imaginary fox started to represent the work that Foxie created, and eventually represented Foxie herself. “I’d really like to make a fun costume for Anomaly one day,” Foxie smiled. “You want to make a fox costume? You’re already a fox,” one jailmate replied. “You could color your fur to look like him,” another suggested. “Yeah, but Foxie might have some things upstairs Anomaly doesn’t. Heh heh.” “And she might not have something that Anomaly does!” the two laughed. “Don’t talk about Anomaly’s anatomy like that!” Foxie grinned, “I’ll find a way.” Even though Foxie and the others were in jail, it didn’t mean they couldn’t have fun, form friendships, or act like total nerds there. The jail was part of the Do-Gooders Headquarters. The organization believed in morality, justice, and were out to help! They were connected to local hospitals and had doctors and nurses on staff. Animals in Our City report crimes to the DG or call them for help. They had a jail and prison - but everyone uses the terms interchangeably and incorrectly because most don’t know the difference. For the record - if a citizen in Our City does something bad, they’re sent to jail before going to court. If they’re guilty, they’re sent to prison as a fully official criminal. Simple enough? Jail first, prison after. It’s not that complicated. But to make it complicated, Foxie moved from jail to prison, and then back to jail. If you Do-Good in the behavioral program the prison has, criminals can transfer to the nicer jail area. Everyone there is hoping they’ll go back to regular outside life again soon. Our City tried to put more thought into their systems than planet Arth did. The chief of the Do-Gooders, Oxnard Boulevard, kept a close eye on Foxie. The hamster created the Do-Gooders because of Foxie’s brother, Faux Farewell. Faux was the goodest Do-Gooder of them all! He lost his life protecting Oxnard, so Oxnard dedicated the group to helping and protecting others. Since Foxie was Faux’s sister, he would take special care of her. Even though Foxie got (possibly illegal) special attention, she was very behaved all on her own. She was kind and polite, very rational. And creative! Fortunately, the DGHQ had a Creativity Room, where Foxie and her friends could spend time drawing, writing, making crafts - it was a little childish - but seeing criminals show their soft side, having fun, and being creative was a great way to show that they’d be fine once released into society. “Aww, look Foxie! Anomaly got fan art again.” Foxie’s tail swished happily behind her as she looked up on the wall. There was a new drawing someone made of her character! “Oh gosh, that’s so nice.” Foxie couldn’t stop smiling. A few different animals in jail made art of her character, but she didn’t know who drew it if they didn’t sign it. “With everyone drawing what Anomaly looks like, it’ll be so much easier to make a fox costume some day!” “They’ll never let us have sewing machines or needles in the Creativity Room...” one jailbird sighed. “Oh, I guess not...” Foxie looked down. “But maybe there’s another way...” Foxie kept thinking about making her costume, and a good moment to bring it up came when a friend of hers visited her in jail! “Hey there, Foxie!” Nishi smiled - her cheerful, orange dino buddy often visited the DG jail to talk to her and see how she was doing. “Anything new going on?” Foxie nodded happily between the glass separating the two, “Yeah! I thought of a new art project.” She blushed down shyly, waiting for him to ask what it was before replying, “I want to make a costume of my character, Anomaly!” “Oh, your foxsona?” Nishi giggled, “That sounds rad!” “It’s, it’s not, ah...” Foxie panicked, “It’s a personal persona that’s a fox...” “Okay, not a foxsona, it’s a fox persona...” Nishi playfully rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t care if it’s a foxsona though! Those’re neat.” “Well it doesn’t matter, they’re never going to let us sew anything here.” Foxie sighed, “I mean, I don’t want to make an ugly outfit of a character I put so much effort into! I could glue fabric together but it’d look bad.” Nishi went wide-eyed, “Well wait a moment. You know who you’re talking to~” Foxie nodded, “That’s right! I know you can sew, but...” “Maybe I could... have a special sewing class, for all the jail animals!” Nishi grinned, “I can ask Oxnard if it’s okay! I’ll bring my materials and machine and I can have one-on-one time with all the jail folks that want to sew something fun.” “Really!?” Foxie laughed, “But you’d be doing that with criminals, you know...” “I hang out with Fuxie all the time - she’s a huge criminal!” Nishi chuckled, “And uh, technically you are too kinda. It’d be fun to make your costume together.” Nishi waved goodbye for now - leaving Foxie for the day. But they’d see each other again during Boxer Beats! Foxie was happy to have a friend that supported her weird art ideas. Maybe she would be able to bring her character into the real world after all!

#boxer beats #foxie #anomaly #oxnard #do gooders #nishi #fursona #story #writing

10 notes · View notes

obscureoperations · 4 years ago

Note

i have yet another prompt for you because i cant stop thinking about this sweet man and of course, im a goth hoe. So, Martin with a goth crush or s/o. I feel like he'd be interested by them especially since the people in his town would also treat them p bad because it's mostly full of old folks. would he know what goth is? I kinda feel like when he first sees them he thinks they're a vampire too lmao. would he be intrigued by them and stalk them about?

Oh nice! I think Martin would be intrigued right off the bat, their appearance certainly drew attention. He would probably notice them the second they entered Cuda’s shop. He couldn’t tear his eyes away out of sheer curiosity. He could clearly see how some of the old women would sneer at you and whisper under their breath. For the most part you remained completely un-phased. If anything, their attention seemed to amuse you. You carelessly stroll past Mrs. Belini, whose lips were already curled into a bitter sneer. The old bag was practically vibrating with anger over the fact that you barely spared her a second glance. “Cuda! You really need to mind who you let into the shop! This is an old person’s town after all, how would it look?!”

“Mrs. Belini... calm down. She is just like any paying customer. She has a basket... she fully intends to shop.”

“That’s not the point you old crone..Just look at her state of dress..It’s clearly upsetting the other customers!”

Martin briefly scans over the near empty aisles. The few customers that they had were completely preoccupied.

“I just think that you...as the owner should...”

Belini’s voice begins to fade into the background.

His attention was fixed on you as you leisurely select your items. Not a care in the world, the basket rests comfortably on your arm. You seemed to have all the time in the world. He had never seen anyone like you in real life... or at least not up close. You looked like one of the people who would stand out in front of that dance club on the far end of town. Though not quite as intimidating. Clad in black from head to toe, not a varying shade in the mix. Inky hair cascades down your back,straight cut bangs barely conceal kohl rimmed eyes. Your skin was pale, almost lily white. Long slender legs clad in fishnet, the boots you wore gave you about a quarter of a foot’s more height.

He couldn’t understand what was so offensive about your look. Yes it was different,but was that necessarily a bad thing? In a pallid town like this, what was the harm in a little more absence of color? He continued to watch as you moved about the store, more and more questions forming in his head. Where did you come from.. were you new? What was your name... what did you do? All questions began to muddle together the closer you got to the counter. He quickly glances away, busing himself arranging the desk. Placing a new stack of bags on the rack. Anything to avoid looking at you.

“Is this the check out?”

Your voice was not anything like he expected. There was a playful lilt in the tone, an almost airy sort of whisper. It reminded him of the wind as it moved through the branches at night, over the rafters into his bedroom window.

“Yes. “He offers quietly as he begins to scan each of your items. He can feel your gaze boring into him, it was unwavering, yet it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. He tried to steady his breath, he didn’t want to appear too flustered. He begins to carefully scan and place your items into the bag. His eyes honed in on your hands, lightly poised resting against the counter. Long glossy black pointed nails absentmindedly tap against the tile. How could you wear those things, couldn’t they break during the day? During mindless tasks? With his gaze pointed on your hands, another thought flashes briefly through his mind… He stills himself, wishing it away completely.

“Are you new here?” You ask almost suddenly. Heat begins to rise to his face.

“I am. I’ve been here for about a month.”

“Cool... So am I. I’ve been here for like two days...”

His head snaps up suddenly, the moment his eyes land on your face he’s taken aback. Not ghoulish in the least, the way Mrs. Belinis complaints had implied. Hauntingly beautiful were the first words that came to mind. You reminded him of one of the ladies in an old comic book he used to have. Always depicted somewhere near a graveyard, skin tight black dress that left next to nothing to the imagination. Like that, but better-- your eyes were large and searching, the ink around them drew him in further. Your skin was smooth and clear, at least three shades lighter than his own. If it was makeup, he would be none the wiser. It seemed to illuminate under the fluorescent light, it gave you this almost ethereal glow.

He nods his head, quickly reaching for more of your items, placing them in the bag. He didn’t know what to say. “Oh that’s nice.” Was a bit underwhelming, but at this point his brain wasn’t running on all four cylinders.

Gosh she’s pretty… like really pretty.

His hands unconsciously begin to shake. It wasn’t the blood this time he was actually nervous. Every second that he didn’t reply felt like an eternity. Why couldn’t he come up with a simple response? He felt almost frozen in your presence, but not in a bad way. He wished he could just look at you for a moment and not have to speak

“What’s your name?” You ask suddenly, nearly causing him to drop the scanner.

“M-” He clears his throat. “Martin. My name is Martin.” That was alright. He didn't stammer, at least not too much.

“Nice to meet you Martin… Im y/n.. I’m gonna be here for a couple of months, hopefully I’ll get to see you around.”

And with that you were gone, change left on the counter as a tip. He was already thinking of ways he could find you. You paid in cash so there was no check or signature, but surely he could figure something out. He already decided that it was important. The thought never crossed his mind that you were going to be the next one. Far from that. If anything he wanted to see you walking about, alive and animated. He was already fascinated. How were you so impervious to their jeers? Where did you come from, he had to know. Why did you dress like that in real life? “Vampira! That was her name.” Did you think you were just like him?

He would follow you the next couple weeks, learning nothing new asides from your address, and the fact that you would stroll through the cemetery on some days.Fingers ghosting along the tombstones with a certain mournful look in your eyes. Pausing to rest against them in the middle of the day. You were his new favorite person to watch, with no other intent than to ensure that you got home safely. The day that you strolled into Cuda’s shop with the sole intention to see him, was pretty much burned into his brain. You bypassed Mrs. Bellini almost fast enough for her head to spin. You paused directly in front of the counter.

“Martin, I really want to show you around town. Can we go out?”

~~~

I want to delve more deeply into this, maybe in the form of head cannons. But not tonight.

#Martin 1977 #martin 1978 #martin/reader #martin/you #martin/fem reader #goth #its goff! I love it

8 notes · View notes

mwolf0epsilon · 4 years ago

Note

Maybe. A story where Sammy and Norman get out of the studio right before hell brakes? They need a good ending ;-:

Summary: Sammy's sudden decline in health saves both him and Norman from something much more sinister than they could ever imagine.

---

In another world, Norman Polk makes the mistake of ignoring the glaring signs that something is terribly wrong with Joey Drew Studios. In this one... He gets luckier. The butterfly effect could be attributed to this somewhat fortunate turn of events, as the split second decision to look for something he misplaced is what leads him to witness Sammy throwing up just outside of the men's bathroom nearest to the music department. Had he let it be for another night, he'd be none the wiser to the severity of Sammy's condition. Norman wasn't sure then how the cranky music director ingested the ink. Assumed, even, that it had been another near death experience that involved burst pipes and flooding. So he'd acted purely on instinct and taken the poor kid to the hospital. "He's lucky to be alive. The amount of ink in his system would have been enough to kill at least three men." The doctor told him, equal parts fascinated and horrified with the case he'd been presented with. "I'm not sure how none of his organs have shut down from the toxicity levels, but I've got to say Mr. Lawrence is a resilient man." "A pain in ta neck too... Had he called for help he likely wouldn't be in this state..." Norman had assumed it was Sammy's pride that kept him from calling out from what he was sure was just another ink flood in his department. How wrong he was. "I is gonna have ta call my brother ta see if his poor sister is at his. Can't imagine she ain't worried sick 'bout what's takin' him so long ta get home." "You may use the reception phone to call his family, yes. I'll have a nurse get you if he wakes up." Sammy didn't wake up. Not that night at least... That would only happen the next night, and by then Norman would be busy with something else that would definitely boggle his mind.

"Yous is sure Drew ain't said a hush o' a whisper 'bout what's goin' on?" Norman frowned as he talked on the phone with Wally. He'd gotten up that morning barely having slept after returning home from the hospital, only to discover the studio was closed down and under police investigation. "Nothin'! Whatever happened he's keeping it real quiet... But get this: Several people in the studio up and vanished!" Wally exclaimed. "Into thin air, like it was a magic show!" "Vanished...?" Norman frowned, sounding incredulous at the vague statement. "What does that mean exactly Wally?" "What ya think it means pal. Gone. No clue how or why, just the when." The janitor sighed. "Bunch a good folks too... Miss Campbell, Shawn, Grant, that Piedmont fellow and Mrs. Benton..." Wally paused for a second, as if to figure out who else had apparently gone from under everyone's nose. "Oh! Couple a' band members gone... Jack and Mel too, which Joey sounded real sad 'bout cuzz ya know... Mel gives the Butcher Gang that real voice magic o' his..." Wally dragged on before coming to stop at the two people Norman most dreaded hearing about. "Buddy and Dot, and like half 'a the art department..." "That's 36 people gone. How in the hell did a group o' folks just up an' go without none seein'?!" "I don't know Norman!" Wally sounded honestly freaked out. "I'm pissing my briefs just thinking something awful's gone and happened to them! But Joey insists everything is gonna be ok and... I donno, that just don't sit well with me..." "Sure don't... Sounds mighty awful suspicious that he'd be so calm considerin' a ton of his employees went and pulled a Houdini act..." Norman hissed into the phone as he looked out the window. Something about this situation was getting him real paranoid all of a sudden. "Eh... Wait, didn't that there Houdini fellow die during his own act...?" "As a matter o' fact, yes. He did." Norman swore he saw someone retreating down his street. Something fishy was going on. And Joey Drew obviously knew more than he let on. "Gosh... I think it's finally time t'a really get outta the studio." "I'd say so kid." He pulled the curtains closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to think. "I'll call ya later Wally. I'm gonna go and check on Sammy at the hospital. You gimme the low down if ya find out anymore o' this scam." "Got it Norms. Good luck with Sammy, he's probably gonna be real grumpy 'bout nearly dying again!"

Grumpy did not described the state of mania Sammy seemed to wake up in. Later that night the blond music director had suddenly jolted up and awake and the absolute nonsense he was spouting was worrying to say the least. If Norman wasn't already so bamboozled by what was going on with the studio, he might look mortified at the scene the other was making. In fact, Norman was too busy shielding Sammy's sister from the absolutely insane tirade he was going on to really care... "YOU DONT UNDERSTAND! HE NEEDS ME! I NEED TO GO BACK! LET ME GO BACK!" Sammy Lawrence was a tall man, but he wasn't particularly strong. A beanpole that was sharp bony angles and unconventionally handsome looks. The man currently fighting off three doctors trying to jab him with syringes full of sedatives was not even flinching when he was shoved. Norman had never seen such insanity in one person's eyes, and frankly he could barely recognize his coworker as he was. The way his curly long hair framed his face almost made his eyes look darker than they should be. Like inky pools. He could only guess what Abigail must be feeling, even as he tried his best to keep her from witnessing what was likely her brother having some sort of long overdue psychotic break. "WOULD SOMEONE SEDATE HIM ALREADY BEFORE HE GOES AN' HURTS SOMEONE?!" The projectionist hollered over the screams, just surprising Sammy enough that one needle could find its mark. A minute or so later, the blond flopped back down into the bed he'd been laying on. Quiet as a sleeping mouse. Norman held the poor weeping Abigail Lawrence even as they were pushed out of the room.

15 years later, Norman Polk found himself reviewing the last couple of years of his life. He'd abandoned a previous career path to help fix whatever horrors Drew's brand of ink had done to Sammy. The blond had been treated for all sorts of things, none of the treatments seeming to work whatsoever in his time playing the role of a sickly lab rat. Only time seemed to have some kind of positive effect, and even still the damage was noticeable. Abby had gone to live with Norman's brother and his niece and nephew, with the ex-projectionist himself popping in every so often to help where he could. His brother was short on money so he did odd-jobs here and there to help. Norman's own kids were well off as it were so he didn't need to worry too much about how much he spent looking after the others. In the time that the investigation had come and gone, Joey Drew Studios had closed for good. None of the missing folk ever returning. In fact, Norman knew for sure more people were going missing... As of today things were... Quiet. Too quiet really, considering how turbulent it had been. Sammy was out under his younger sister's custody, labelled some sort of invalid because his head wasn't working too good (a lie, as Norman caught him in his more lucid moments and knew how frustrated and trapped the once-music director felt about his situation that he couldn't even explain). He wasn't nearly as outspoken and ornery as he used to be. All sense of pride vanishing and being replaced with this deep dark shame over something out of his control. Less wordy and more tired looks and vague gestures. His eloquence and motor skills had also suffered greatly from having consumed a toxic liquid that inexplicably caused enough damage to ruin his independence, but not enough to damage many major organs or bodily functions. Norman visited and played chess of all things, to keep him company. The blond seemed to appreciate it, but his interest was on what Norman did nowadays. He was a private investigator. His main case? Joey Drew Studios. And tomorrow he was getting answers from none other than Joey Drew himself, as the man had reached out to him in quite the compelling letter... It was about the right time to go back to the old studio and find out what had happened the night he and Sammy left.

#Eps Writes:#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Norman Polk #Sammy Lawrence

20 notes · View notes

brakken-spideyverse · 5 years ago

Text

Answerin’ older asks :)

Sorry some of these are so late! Answers below the cut

@everythingsucksbutthatsokay asked:

So what exactly was the nature of “the Baxter Building accident”? Is it similar to the set up in the Ultimate comics and Fant4stic movie, or something else?

Similar, yes. I wanted to play on the arrogant side of Reed by having him essentially say “hey, this cosmic ray siphon that would be highly dangerous if my calculations are even slightly off? I’m gonna activate it in the middle of a city.”

While it looks like a regular skyscraper from the outside, the top floors of the Baxter Building are only accessible to the four of them because the molecules are completely unstable.

@c0smicfool asked:

Hi so I got inspired by your redesigns and came up with my own redesign idea for Ben as Scarlet Spider, even if it’s not for the old contest or anything is it cool to submit it? Also love you’re redesigns and how creative they get with drawing on characteristics to create something entirely new

If you wanna just post it and tag me so I see it I’m more than fine with that! Always happy to see folks’ designs :) Also, if you have a twitter, tag me there! twitter.com/makeoververse

@mackysack asked:

Who's your favorite comic artist all time?

Of all time? Dang, uhhh.... first that comes to mind is Takeshi Obata, who drew Death Note and Bakuman. But for western comics, gosh - I really like Sara Pichelli’s work? Old Romita stuff is great. A lot of the Spidey artists over the years really, but I’m biased. I feel like I’m blanking on somebody really obvious.

If you want an off-field pick, Kelley Jones’ Batman art is top tier. If they make a Spider-Verse style movie of Batman, I want his work to be one of the main influences.

@avenger09 asked:

Outside of Spider-Man's rogue's gallery whose your favourite Marvel villain?

Magneto, probably! Not typically big on X-Men myself, but he’s rad. Will finish the character sketch for him at some point <.<

Anon said:

WAIT you can't just tell us you have an ASM3 script under your belt???? Now it's all I can think about???? By the way Electro looks amazing as does the rest of your universe but PLEASE OH PLEASE LET US SEE THIS SCRIPT!!!

Thank you! And yes I will share it eventually! It’s currently getting read by close friends for feedback but it’s something I’m sure I’ll show to y’all someday.

Anon asked:

How did Eddie and Peter know eachother before he turned into Venom?

They didn’t, so much. They go to the same school and I think Eddie crushed on Peter a little from afar, but he’s really just a tragic pawn in the Symbiote’s obsession. Viewing the black suit story as a toxic breakup, I see this version of Eddie as someone being used solely to get at Peter. An innocent who is thrown into the deep end of all the built up trauma and monster stories.

Anon asked:

Will Harry become a bad guy or still a good guy? Since in the your comics, it shows that he finally knows Peter as Spider-Man and already knows his father's secret identity.. will he? (Btw love your arts so much!!!

Thank you!! Harry would become a bad guy for a bit. He’s real hurt and confused by everything that happens and aims that pain at Peter. But he can heal, with time and the right company.

Anon asked:

here about the spidersonas in the spiderverse comic?

I did! That’s so cool that they acknowledged the fanbase in that way. Here’s hoping for something like that in ITSV 2? No-one’s called me about Abrakknid yet tho, ha ;_;

Thanks all, hope I can keep up a bit better with questions in the future <3

55 notes · View notes

nobleclover · 4 years ago

Text

Cuphead: Birthday Blast

A week earlier:

Cuphead and Mugman were running around the woods in their usual carefree manner flying their red and blue kite. Recently, they got it off Hilda Berg as both a little 'thank you' gift and early birthday present for saving her from the Devil's debt. For about half an hour they were racing against the wind, skipping streams and hopping through the tall grass with the kite trailing after them above.

Suddenly, just as they were about to leave a clearing, the kite took a sudden dive and got lodged within a tree. Both boys stared up at the tree in dismay, watching their kite rock up and down with the branch in the wind.

"Well, gosh darn it," groaned Mugman, "it just had to get lodged in a stupid tree branch the first time we try it out!"

"Fear not Mugsy! I'll get it down in no time!" declared Cuphead, in his usual bold manner.

He walked over to the base of the trunk, spat on his hands and prepared to climb up…only to slide back down. He looked back at Mugman with a nervous look before trying again, and again, and again.

Mugman shook his head pityingly at his brother's efforts before looking back up at the kite again. I bet I can try and get it down from there, he thought to himself. Cuphead was still trying to climb up the imposing trunk while Mugman laid his eyes on a nearby tree.

Much to his delight, this tree had a number of interconnecting branches which would surely allow him to reach the first branch of the tree that the kite was stuck in. He decided to fetch it himself to surprise Cuphead to impress him. He knew that his brother was pretty impressed with him enough from their short time as the Devil's lackeys, but the eager little mug wanted to impress him a step further.

Cuphead was now glaring up at the tree before backing up a few yards away from the trunk. He then sprinted before leaping in the air to grab onto it, despite his small arms. Unfortunately, his face landed into the hard bark, causing him to rebound and land on his back.

Instantly, the red cup cupped his face in pain and pulled away to find some blood on his gloves. He groaned in both concern and frustration at having broken his nose at trying to climb the damn tree.

"Whoa! Are you okay?!" a small voice called out from above him.

To his surprise, it was Mugman in the tree, who was now very close to the branch that snared the kite. The blue mug grimaced as he took a good long look at his brother's bloody face. He almost looked like he had been fighting again, only this time he just suffered a broken nose.

"Whut're thuh hell're you doin' up there?" Cuphead mumbled nasally.

"Getting the kite back down! I'm almost there in getting it, see?!" Mugman responded excitedly.

"Yeh, yeh, justh be careful cuhmin' duhn, okeh?"

"Yeesh, Cuphead, don't worry too much abo—"

Suddenly, just as Mugman grabbed onto the kite, the branch snapped beneath him, causing the poor boy to plummet to the ground in shock, still holding the kite. Cuphead's eyes and mouth widened in terror as his brother landed with a sickening crack on the ground.

There was an air of dead silence for twenty seconds before a shocked Cuphead ran over to his dazed brother and cried, "Mugs! Mugs?! A – are you ok—?"

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

Present time:

Since then, Mugman had been mostly confined to their home with a broken leg and right arm, as well as the most painful looking black eye ever. As for Cuphead, the only sign of injury he bore was a small cotton bandage he wore on top of his nose.

Mugman would spend the days just sitting on the couch reading, drawing with his good hand and listening to the radio. Cuphead would always make small talk with him every morning and evening, only to be gone for most of the day. He'd try to ask how Cup's day was only to have him change the subject or just respond with "Fine, fine, nothing much."

The poor mug hoped that he'd stay around that Saturday for their birthday. He'd even wondered if some of the debtors were coming over. However, he guessed that he'd be staying home while Cuphead and some of their friends would be out celebrating.

"Yeah, well, I kinda wanted to be alone," he muttered to himself, which was kind of true.

He felt a little angry at Cuphead for not hanging around with him. However, he'd also remember that guilty look in Cuphead's eyes whenever they did chat. Perhaps my injuries also remind him of our battles with all the folks on the Devil's list, he thought. With that realisation, Mugman began to feel even more gloomy.

During the times Cuphead was out, he'd often wonder what he was up to. Usually, Elder Kettle would allow them to be out until six but for three days this week, he was coming back at around eight o'clock. On Friday night that week, Cuphead came back all frustrated and cursing under his breath.

"Hey, Cups! How was – ?"

Cuphead had already slammed their bedroom door behind him, much to Mugman's surprise. Sure, he was a bit of a hothead, but he was never this angry before.

Elder Kettle sighed and said, "I'll go talk to him, son."

After 15 minutes, Elder Kettle came down and walked over to his adopted son, who looked back at him concerned.

"Is Cuphead okay?"

"He's fine, boy. He's just extremely disappointed with some plans he had for tomorrow."

"Plans?" he asked curiously.

"He made me swear not to tell you what they are, but I will tell you that he can't go through with most of them," Kettle explained.

"Why can't he go through with them then?"

"He just heard that there's some bad weather on the way around noon tomorrow. However, I have suggested that he try a different approach with what he's planning," Elder Kettle replied.

Tomorrow, on their birthday? Now, Mugman's interest was piqued. Was he planning a surprise for him or something? He decided to say nothing so that he'll see for himself.

"Okay, then. Let's hope something better turns up for him," Mugman quipped.

"Yes, let's hope so. Now come on," Elder Kettle said, taking Mugman's hand, "I'll help you get up the stairs."

"Thanks, Elder Kettle," Mugman replied.

The next morning:

Mugman stirred and took a big yawn, gently rubbing his eyes with his uninjured hand. His arm and leg had been encased in plaster since the accident and now he felt being weighed down in bed. He never thought that having a feeling of being sunk into your bed would ever be uncomfortable.

Turning his head, he noticed that Cuphead was gone, with his bedsheets all over the place. He thought about what Elder Kettle said to him yesterday, and began to wonder what he was doing today.

"WAAAAKE UUUUP!" Cuphead sang, slamming the door open.

Mugman jumped before slightly flinching in pain. He sat up as best as he could to ask his brother, "What the hell, Cuphead?! What are you –?"

"Sorry, brother!" Cuphead chuckled, "just wanted to start your birthday off with a bang!"

"Yeah, yeah, thanks. Now what –"

Before he could finish, Cuphead stuck a small object wrapped in blue paper and happily proclaimed, "Happy birthday, Mugman!"

Mugman's eyes widened as he took the present and started to tear off the paper as best he could. All he could think was, I knew it was a surprise, I KNEW IT!

Cuphead watched eagerly as his brother tore off the last shred of paper to reveal a shiny new toy car. The paint was soft blue and had glistening silver bumpers with a small key with which to operate it. The blue mug smiled widely as he examined this swell gift he received. He then reached his good arm out for a hug, which Cuphead enthusiastically returned.

"Gee, Cuphead! I really love it! Thank you so much!"

"Yeah well, I raked up a lot of money to get that car for you. So, you play with it as long as ya want," his brother replied.

Mugman smiled before asking him, "Hey, about last night…what were you mad about?"

"O – oh, that! I was kinda bummed that nobody would come around due to this bad weather and I had planned a really spectacular party for pretty much everyone to come and see," he explained.

Mugman nodded, finally understanding as to why his brother had been mad the other night. He lay back in bed and asked, "So, you just wanted a really big party for us, but didn't tell me?"

"Yeah, a – and I'm sorry I wasn't seeing you all that much but I wanted it to be a surprise," Cuphead sighed.

"It's okay! I understand now! I don't mind just celebrating our birthday with just ourselves and Elder Kettle!"

"Thanks, Mugs. Anyways, you hungry?" he asked.

Before Mugman could answer, his stomach let out a small growl, which was most certainly a yes.

"Just let me get dressed, okay?"

"Okay, just call out when you're done!" Cuphead replied, walking out of the room.

Mugman put on his clothes as best as he could, despite the huge casts on his arm and leg, before rummaging under his pillow for something. He pulled out a sketch that he drew a few months back when they successfully liberated all of Inkwell Isle. It was a coloured sketch of the two brothers grinning proudly as ever with their fists to the sky. He drew them both with a few small cracks in their heads, to remind them of how far they came to freeing all those souls. This would make a great gift for Cuphead, he thought.

He stuffed the drawing into his pocket before calling out to his brother, "Okay, Cups! I'm ready!"

Cuphead walked in beaming and told him, "Great! When we get downstairs, you're gonna love the cake, Mugs!"

"Ooohh, is it chocolate?"

"You betcha! Now let's get ya downstairs," he smiled.

For the rest of the day, the two brothers and their guardian had a nice, small, party celebrating another year in the cups' lives and enjoying each other's company. All in all, it was a really pleasant birthday that they'll surely remember.

#cuphead #cuphead don't deal with the devil #cuphead and mugman #for last year's anniversary #brotherly fluff #cup bros #cuphead is a stubborn goodhearted kid in this

9 notes · View notes

nightowlfandom · 5 years ago

Text

Yandere! Ignis Scientia- No One Can Keep Me Away (Part 1)

So I’m feeling pissed off and like i want to push someone off a bridge/ jump off a bridge onto some spikes because my life is going in a downward spiral and I’m losing control of everything....so here some more yandere stuff.

This is a long one folks...buckle up.

Plus Ignis is bae.....fuck y’all mean, this one gets a little steamy so if that isn’t your thing thennnn you gotta go. I’m super proud of this and I haven’t felt that way about an entry in a long time so I hope those of you who choose to read this all the way through like it as well!

Leggo!

....

The smell of blood and leftover cologne filled the room. Dried blood decorated the hotel room walls which contrasted it’s pristine white and gold decorated paint. What a shame.

The silent cries almost echoed throughout the room, pleas almost. “W-why are you doing this?”

A man silently paced back and forth, his leather shoes padding against the wooden floors. He was tall and confident. Then again, who would expect someone like that to not be? The stranger pushed his spectacles up higher on his nose bridge, letting out a single huff followed by a simple. “Hm, and why wouldn’t I? Tis the better question here, wouldn’t you say?”

The man slammed his foot down onto the stranger’s face, colliding with their nose. A louder cry echoed throughout the room, making him smirk at his damage. Good.

“See where foolish questions get you?” he asked, shaking his hands. “It’s a shame I have to get my hands so bloody, but you’ve tested my patience enough.”

“I never d-did anything to you!” his opponent cried. “I don’t even know you.”

“Ah, ah , ah.” the man cooed. “What did I say about your tone!” he barked, slamming his foot down on the already beat up stranger. “Even vermin such as yourself should know about manners...how tragic. Now I will say this again. If you admit your wrong-doings, then you won’t suffer too much.”

“I don’t even know who this girl is that you’re talkin’ about man! I don’t know no Y/N girl!”

“Ah...But you do. You’ve been causing quite a bit of trouble-”

“I ain’t cause no damn trouble!”

SLASH!

“Like I said....Manners.”

...

Today was like many others. You were doing your dues as “that girl who liked to bring flowers to people for no reason.” Sure, it didn’t really reward you with any currency, but it was nice to see people’s faces brighten up. Even if you did see them every other day.

You were walking up the road, humming to yourself. You were on your way into town, Lestallum where you usually frequent. You would drop flowers off by all the best spots and doing some shopping of your own. You didn’t live far, just enough to either bike or walk.

“Flowers, check. Sweets, Check...giant monster charging for m- Giant monster!?!” You had to do a double take as you looked up to meet the eyes of what looked like a giant beast with horns. You were basically on the road when you felt the ground shake, then suddenly some crazy animal was charging right for you

Your first instinct was to jump back in a fright.

“Oh my gosh!” You tried to heave yourself back from the monster- whatever it was. “Not exactly what I expected to run into this morning.” you prepared yourself for the worst.

Now, you knew how to fight...you just didn’t like doing it. Your dual silver daggers were hidden at the bottom of your flower basket, you couldn’t reach them in time. Unless this thing was super allergic to flowers, you’d be kind of screwed. The horned beast raised one of its clawed fists and slammed with down in front of you.

You screamed and jumped back, watching it sort of rumbled through your flowers, stepping on every single one.

Now would have been a good time to run-

“HEY YOU! GET DOWN!” you turned around to find a group of guys charging straight for you, or at least the monster. One of them, a blonde drew a gun which enough to make you drop instantly.

“Why does this always happen to me?” you groaned as you covered your ears. You could feel them all jump over you (quite literally). “Can I have a normal day just once?” you groaned. You heard noises for a few seconds before there was nothing but complete silence. “Is it safe to peek now!?” you called.

“Allow me...” you heard a voice in front of you. The first thing you saw upon opening your eyes was another pair of emerald like eyes. That, and a hand outstretched towards you. They seemed cold and almost distant. You must have been staring because a strange look appeared on his face. “Are you going to take my hand or stare at it as if you’ve never seen one before?”

“On second thought I think I can get up myself.” You scoffed, standing to your feet. “...Ugh are you kidding me?!?!” you snapped.

“What?!” a black haired boy had asked, almost looking annoyed.

“ That little rat with horns ruined my flowers!” You sighed, picking up the wilted remnants of all your hard work, somehow he had also managed to dinge up and break your silver daggers. One was completely snapped at the blade and the other was too wilted and worn to even use. “....Oh no.” you felt your heart snap in two.

“You were almost killed, and you’re worried about a few weeds.” the biggest and tallest one concluded. “Geez lady, you need to get your priorities straight.”

“Well I was supposed to take this into Lestallum to deliver them, but since you know everything about my priorities, why don’t I stand here and let you enlighten me.” you crossed your arms. “And I have a name, it’s definitely not Lady!”

The man in glasses hadn’t said a word since you had began speaking. He just studied you. As you went back and forth with those other three men-children. You stature, something about it. The way you weren’t afraid to walk back to men that seemed so much more bigger and intimidating than you despite only having flower stems to defend yourself. Maybe it was bravery, maybe stupidity. He admired it nonetheless.

“Great.” you sighed, throwing the remnants of your broken weapons into the basket. “Now what?”

You still had to go to Lestallum, it would just be less of a favorable visit.

“Hm.” Ignis finally voiced his thoughts aloud. “I think I’ve seen you before.” he commented.

Of course he has, he had seen you around for days now. His eyes would follow you as you skipped through town, giving assorted flowers to every clerk, restaurant owner and shopkeep you saw. It was purely “coincidental” he had just so happen to figure out a “short cut” when he saw you get on your bike to go home one night.

But that would have been silly, it was technically your first time seeing him.

“You probably have if you visit Lestallum often...but” you raised an eyebrow. “I would remember seeing a bunch of guys in...weird clothes though. Not that you’re outfits are weird, it’s just...a lot a black for such a sunny place.”

“It’s my style.” The angsty raven-haired boy grumbled.

“I’m sure it is.” you crossed your arms. “I suppose I owe you a thank you for saving my life.” you sighed, beginning to dig to the bottom of your little basket. “I hope I wrapped them up- Aha!” You pulled out a container of muffins. “It’s not Gil, or anything valuable but consider it a token of gratitude.” you held out the container towards him. When he didn’t take it, the blonde one did. At least that beat hadn’t messed with the baked goods you spent hours on, so it was still a victory.

“Gee thanks! I like you already!” He laughed, cracking open the lid. “Muffins! Sweet! What’s your name anyways?”

“...Y/N....” you replied. “Y/N L/N of (Insert city here...any city).”

“Nice. I’m Prompto. This cranky guy here is Noctis. The big, scary muscle head is Gladiolus-”

“You can call me Gladio.” his gruff voice cut Prompto off. “It’s easier for some people.”

“Right! Hehe and Specs right here is Ignis!” he finally finished, motioning to the guy who had so rudely commented on your staring.

“Nice to meet you...I suppose.” you stared down at your feet.

“Likewise.” something about the way he spoke interested you. Where was he from?

“Hey, You said you were going to Lestallum, right? We are too! Why don’t we give you a ride?” Prompto suggested.

“Hey! Why would you offer a ride to a stranger! She could be dangerous!” That Noctis guy snapped.

“I mean...I don’t have any weapons or magic. What am I gonna do other than throw flower petals at you.” you asked. Yeah it wouldn’t hurt, but it would be extremely annoying. “...And muffins, I don’t use baked goods for evil.”

“Hm, it does seem like a long walk all the way from here.” Ignis jumped in. “Maybe for your safety, we should. I read somewhere than there will be a spike in beats lurking around. I’m afraid that this is only the first wave.”

Of course, he’d be more than happy to make short work of whatever mindless creatures were dumb enough to roam during the day. He just couldn’t tell you that.

“Fine, but I’m driving.” Noctis concluded. “Hope you don’t mind the back seat.”

“Thank you, really.” you grabbed your basket. You looked inside to make sure the other containers were in there when something caught your eye. A red rose, a perfectly untouched one. How did it get there? It wasn’t before. You didn’t pick roses that often, let alone full bloomed ones like these. You felt lucky though.

“Are you comin’?” Gladiolus got your attention. You noticed them walking towards a black car.

“Oh, yes. Of course.” you shook off your confusion.

“May I carry your basket?” Ignis offered, holding out his gloved hand.

“Oh...sure.” you trailed off. It was only now that you had managed to get a good look at his face. “H-here.” Oh yes, He was handsome alright.

“Hm, then off we go then?” a slight smirk found its way to his lips. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you it was rude to stare?”

“Huh?” you raised an eyebrow. You had only realized you were looking too hard....again. “Sorry.” You mumbled, walking past him.

Hopefully this ride to Lestallum wouldn’t be too much longer.

...

“Uh...Did you just take a picture of me?” you heard a click and flash go off. You looked up from your hands at Prompto who had a camera in his hands.

“Yep! I like to make memories.” he shrugged. “Wait! I got it! Ignis! Get a little closer to Y/N!”

Wait what!?

“Er...Is that really necessary?” you asked, feeling your heart rate pick up a little. “Isn’t one enough?”

“Prompto likes grabbing snaps of everything. It’s better to not question it.” Gladio laughed.

“Come on, get closer you two!” Prompto urged. “This shot will be perfect, I can just feel it!”

“Really now.” Ignis sighed with an annoyed look on his face. Feeling a little iffy yourself, you turned to look at Ignis, ready to say something when your eyes met again. Your face immediately softened. Not because you forgot what you were gonna say, but because you were just now made aware of how close you both really were.

“That chemistry.” Prompto mumbled to himself, clicking away at his camera. “You guys almost look like a couple!”

“I’ll forget you said that.” You mumbled.

Ignis watched as you turned your head away to look down at your hands again. He though aimlessly to himself. You were much more shy now than ever. He always assumed you to be more talkative and outspoken when confronted with something like this.

“Now this is a photo.” Prompto showed your what was on the camera screen. Even with the wind blowing your hair in all different directions, the shot still managed to capture you and Ignis’s little staredown. You noticed his jaw seemed to be clenched, but why?

“WOAH!” Prompto outburst again.

‘What now?!” Gladio grunted, slamming whatever book he had been reading shut.

“These muffins are amazing!!” Prompto spoke, with his mouth full. “You gotta try these!”

“Fine, hand em’ over.” Gladiolus sighed as Prompto basically stood on his knees in his seat. “Hm...For once you aren’t wrong about something, these aren’t bad.”

“Ignis, I think you’ve met your match!” Prompto laughed. “Iggy here loves to cook, he gets cranky whenever we like someone’s cooking other than his.”

“I do not!, It’s just that your tastes are abysmal is all!” he turned his nose away. “No offense but they can’t be that amazing.” he huffed. Ignis snatched the muffin that Prompto had been sticking in his face for a while now.

Of course he had to stay in character, the way your face scrunched up hearing his talk didn’t make him happy, but he had to keep up appearances for what he was known for.

“Take your time.” You mumbled turning away. You stared into your basket, glaring at your broken daggers. You knew they couldn’t be fixed, so you’d have no choice but to trash them. Shame.

“I dare say I could make this at camp!” he said, taking you by surprise.

“Huh?!” You were surprised at his words. Plus his outburst had scared you a bit.

“Would you be opposed to sharing your recipe with me?”

“Oh..Um sure. Do you have a pen I can borrow?” you raised an eyebrow, sort of weirded out that he had asked for it so abruptly. It was just a simple recipe, nothing too special.

As you scribbled from memory on a little card, you realized how eerily quiet it had gotten in the car. When you looked up, you noticed everyone (excluding Noctis who was driving) was staring right at you. “What?” You had just now noticed your jacket sleeve had fallen down. Without missing a beat you pulled it back up. “...Fighting gets messy Y’know?”

You knew exactly what they were staring at.

...

“Thank you so much, it means a lot.” you climbed out of the car, stretching your limbs. The air in Lestallum was so much different from your town, it was more open and airy. It was kind of the reason you came everyday. You always found something new.

“Sure I guess. If Prompto likes ya, you can’t be that bad.” Noctis grumbled.

“I knew you’d come around.” you said jokingly. “May we cross paths again!” you saluted to the four men who had helped you so graciously.

“Likewise.” Gladio grunted. You waved again before turning to run off.

“Y/N! Wait!” You turned again to find Ignis running up to you.

“Yes?” you tilted your head to the side cutely.

“Um, may I ask about your weapons?” he suddenly asked, making you frown a little.”I couldn’t help but notice you seemed quite upset whenever you look at them.”

“Stupid beast broke them.” you shook your head. “I’ll just trash them.”

“Are they of importance to you?”

“Well yeah...it does seem a shame to throw them out...why don’t you take them?” you suggested.

“Me?” Ignis seemed surprised. “Why?”

“The handles are probably worth something, you could sell them for some Gil, I know someone would love to melt them down and make new weapons.” You took out to dual weapons. “If you don’t need them, feel free to throw them out. I just don’t want to look at them anymore, it would just-....nevermind.”

Ignis’s face fell, he could tell you were saddened by the loss of your weapons, they were probably more important than you think.

“Also...as a thank you.” you took out the single red rose that seemed to have survived that whole messed up episode. “It’s not much but...here.”

“Thank you Y/N. I’ll be sure to treasure it for a long time” he smiled. He was telling the truth too. Something like this, from you. After all this time after finally noticing him. “I bid you a safe farewell.”

“You as well.” you nodded respectfully before running off.

...

To say you crossed paths with these four men too many times to count was a complete understatement of words. It seemed as if every single day you had managed to run into one, two, or all four of them.

It was strange seeing Prompto carrying a huge bag of Chocobo feed up the road, sure. It was even stranger seeing Noctis and Gladio ‘scoping out’ a local diner and just so happen to run into you. The funny part was you knew they were spying, but they wanted to pretend they weren’t. You had seen Ignis near a waterfall once, but he didn’t seem to notice you.

Pretty soon you found yourself just being in the same places they were. From Lestallum, to literally anywhere. It was almost like somehow a fate would bring your together. You never questioned it.

It was another day, same any any. You had just left a vendor after delivering some pink and white flowers to the clerk. You waved off, relishing in the sight of his smiling face.

You were quite literally skipping down the stone path. It was about to be dark soon. Luckily you had prepared since you knew you were going to be out all day. It seemed as if luck wasn’t really on your side. You kept going through mishaps or something. It didn’t help that you began feeling like these mishaps were connected to those four...somehow. But that would be crazy, wouldn’t it?

...

“That will be 400 gil.”

“Here you go.” you smiled at the man behind the counter.

“Hey! it’s you!”

You turned towards the door, seeing Prompto jog inside. “Um Yes, it’s me! Hello.”

“Hey. Fancy seein’ you here.” Gladio followed.

“Not really. I see you guys everywhere.” you scoffed, shaking your head.

“And not a moment too soon. We’re right on schedule, aren’t we?” you heard Ignis walk in.

“I suppose.”

Call it shameless flirting, but there was some sort of rift between you and Ignis. Even the smallest of small-talk always left you feeling like you had some sort of unfinished business.

“Here’s your key mam’.” The man behind the desk caught your attention.

“Ah, thank you! And if you four don’t feel like being locked in a room trying not to kill each other, feel free to pay me a visit.” you picked your woven basket off the floor.

“Y/N, I’d be careful with that type of invitation, you never know who might take such advice a little too close to heart.” you could hear Ignis from behind as you began ascending the staircase to find your room.

“I can take care of myself. Plus my endeavors thrive on invitations...I wouldn’t forget that if I were you.” you said without turning around.

....

After a long awaited and deserved shower, you sat in front of a mirror with dripping wet hair looking like some crazy creature from a horror movie. You had made sure to put a ‘knock first’ sign outside the door just incase. You stared back at your reflection. “UgH!” you snapped, resting your head in your hands.

It was only then, that you heard a knock at the door, followed by a “Excuse me, Y/N...is everything alright in there? I would ask if I could enter but if I’m not mistaken-”

“You can come in Ignis.” You laughed to yourself, trying to squeeze the water out of your hair. You were in a bathrobe anyways, it’s not like it would look weird.

Ignis peeked inside the door and saw you running your hands through your soaking wet hair. “Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize...”

“It’s fine, did you need something?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I just came to thank you for your recipe. I realize I didn’t thank you then.”” He spoke, looking everywhere but you.

“No worries, Ignis. Anytime.”

“Of course...Y/N...Did you always have that scar on your shoulder?” You turned around in confusion and followed Ignis’s eyes, which just so happened to be pointed at your left shoulder. You had looked where your bathrobe had fallen to see what was left of a deep scar that started at your heart and ended behind your shoulder.

“...Yeah, got it in a fight.” you waved it off. “No big deal.” It was completely healed now, but the mark it left was still visible. You pulled the robe sleeve onto your shoulder. “It was a long time ago.”

“It is indeed a ‘big deal’ Y/N...How did you obtain such a bruise and with whom?!” he walked up to you, seeming to ignore the fact that you were merely in a bathrobe and nothing else except undergarments.

“Why does it matter?”

“Something like that could have been fatal.”

“But it wasn’t.” You winked knowingly. “I’m still here aren’t I?” you sighed. “Anyways the girl who did this to me doesn’t even know if I’m alive or not, I’d prefer to keep it that way, It keeps me from thinking about what would happen if we did meet face to face again..”

“All the more reason to know.” Ignis turned you around in your seat and grabbed your shoulders. “I need you to tell me.”

You stared back into his eyes, reading nothing but seriousness and urgency. He was dead serious. “Why do you want to know so bad?”

“So I may protect you if it happens again.”

“....Her name is Sennen...We got into a huge argument a few years back and when I wasn’t looking she threw her sword at me.”You confessed. “Slashed right across my heart and left me for dead.”

You ended up waking next to a running river with bandages all over you and your father worried sick. You never told him Sennen was responsible, and you didn’t plan on it either.

Hearing your story caused Ignis to clench his fists. How dare anyone ever THINK of-

“She took something from me too.” you sighed. It was your prized possession, something that was once of a kind that no one else had. She had taken it from you. In her own words. ‘You certainly have no use for it anymore, think of it as a parting gift.’

“What did she take?” he asked, his face softening.

“It’s just...something that helped me fight a little better. It’s been so long I can probably fight without it, but my father gave it to me...it’s important y’know.” You shrugged, standing up. “Was that all you wanted? To almost see me undressed and ask me about my past?”

“Well...why do you give flowers to people? I never asked.” Ignis raised an eyebrow curiously.

“It makes me happy to make others happy.” you simply put it. “No other reason.” You crossed your arms. “If you can’t put a smile on someone’s faces, then what can you do.” you shrugged.

“Well...You certainly are doing an impeccable job. You always seem to put a grin on my face.” he chuckled. You crossed your arms, shaking your head.

“You’re just saying that.” you denied.

“Actually...I mean it. I mean every word of what I say, Y/N...remember that for me, won’t you? Hm, I’ve almost forgotten! I’ve also came to return these to you.”

You noticed there was a box by Ignis’s feet.

“Return?” You asked in confusion. “I don’t underst-”

“Open it.” he handed you the box. The outside was engraved and carved with some sort of design. You flipped the tiny latch and opened the box. You could almost gasp as you saw two glimmering silver daggers staring back at you. The more you stared, the more familiar they looked. Wait....were these your old ones?

“Magnificent aren’t they?”

You looked up, more shocked than confused now.

“Ignis-...Did you do this? I said they were beyond repair.” you were taken aback. “I’m...-”

“When one has connections like I do, anything is possible, Y/N.” he smirked knowingly. He had been proud of his handy work and seeing the look on your face stroked his ego even more. “Plus, I figure if these are your only means of defense, you might as well fight with style as I always say.” he watched your eyes gaze and sweep across the perimeter of the mirror-like blades. The handles, which used to be bronze were brushed with some sort of gold etching that was followed by a single ruby gem at the end of each one.

“Ignis, Why did you do this?” you found yourself confused.

“You mentioned you’ve been through a lot with just these weapons...and I figured that it would be a shame for you to part ways with them so soon.”

You slowly closed the box and latch and set it gently on the floor at the end of the bed.

“I don’t know what to say...t-thank you.”

“Consider it a token of gratitude.” he smirked.

“How?”

“My lips are sealed.” he again in that tone that only stroked his ego even more.

It was only now that you realize how close Ignis had gotten to you. You took his his smell. It was unfamiliar yet...inviting.

“Ignis?” you looked up at him. If his glasses weren’t in the way, you might have felt like your soul was being ripped out.

“Hm, Yes?”

“Um...You’re standing really close.” you stammered over your words.

“I’m aware.” he chuckled. “Is that a problem?”

“Um...no actually.” You whispered. “It’s just...is it normal for my heart to be racing like this?”

“I’m not sure, but if it’s any consolation, my heart hasn’t stopped racing yet.”

“...Cool.” you breathed. (This is where I get too in my feelings. Steamy shit ahead fam!)

Ignis ended up making the first move, twisting a handful of your hair in his fist before crashing his mouth over yours. He could barely hold himself back anymore, he had waited long enough. A loud groan had erupted from his throat sending vibrations all throughout your body.

You had almost fallen back from the impact. That and the fact that your feet almost collapsed. You had grabbed onto his jacket in time as your returned his affections, moving your lips against his in mixed harmonies.

“See what happens when people take heed to your invites, naughty little girl.” Ignis fake-scolded you, beginning to trail his lips down your jawline and neck. “Look where we are now.” he grunted. “What do you intend to do now?” he growled. While his voice was low and urgent with hints of demand lacing his every word, they way his fingers drew and traced circles on your bare upper thigh had you seeing two totally different sides of this man at once. He had gripped the hem of your bathrobe in his fist, slowly but surely pulling it down.

As soon as the faded scar was visible, there was a moment where he kissed your shoulder gingerly. He waited....He waited for you to say something, our push him away in a haste or in fear that someone could show up any minute. You simply melted into his arms. He smiled to himself seeing the goosebumps rise on your skin. A reaction he himself caused.

You saw Ignis furiously kick off his shoes before hoisting you up. As if second nature, you wrapped your legs around his torso. Ignis crashed his hot mouth over yours again, this time being less calculated in his movements. In the process, he had managed to free himself of his jacket and shirt.

You landed on the bed with a thud, staring up at Ignis. Your robe was long gone and it left you in merely your undergarments. You were positive you didn’t look too attractive in a bra with little bats on them, however Ignis didn’t seem to care.

“I hope you don’t mind my haste...but I fear someone may come up and wonder what we’re up to.”

You looked up again and had noticed that Ignis had taken off his glasses. It gave you a view of his beautiful face. Your eyes bore into his emerald green irises. You weren’t sure if it was the blood pumping to your brain or your own mind deceiving you, but when you stared into his eyes...you could see something. Something strange.

“...Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” He smirked. “Or do I have to take care of that problem too?”

Before you could answer, your eyes had traveled lower. His body. Was it even real? No, it couldn’t have been. His body was godly, a definite sight for sore eyes.

“Do you like what you see?” he caught your attention. It was only now that you noticed how painfully tight his jeans looked. “Because I very much am enjoying my own view.”

Ignis studied the rise and fall of your chest, it was almost as if he could hear your heart beating below the palms of his hands. This was all his doing, it made him feel even more selfish. He fumbled with his leather belt buckle, becoming impatient with himself.

He wanted- No, needed you, right now.

“Knowing those pests they’re probably eavesdropping as we speak, so you’ll have to be quiet, my love. Do you think you can do that?” he asked urgently. He grabbed the edge of your panties and yanked at it harshly, tearing it to shreds and leaving it as just a piece of cloth that flew somewhere on the floor.

“I d-don’t know.” you were in shock at Ignis’s movements, but still found yourself succumbing to his fingers. “It depends.”

That phrase alone made Ignis laugh as he yanked his pants down. You almost squeaked in shock seeing his member free of it’s restraint. “Holy sh-” you slapped a hand over your mouth.

“Hm, are you impressed?” he smirked again. “Are you ready for me?”

It was like the sound echoed through the room, teasing your ears and mocking your brain.

You buried your head into Ignis’s neck and ran your hands through his hair. You had to be quiet, you had to be-

A gasp ripped through your throat and Ignis thrust into you. So much for being quiet. Your legs had hooked around his torso as if it was second nature. It felt right, like this was how it’s meant to be.

“I-Ignis.” you gasped. “If you do that, I don’t think I can be...q-qui-et.” you whimpered, feeling his thrusts again and again.

“Y-Y/N!” Ignis groaned right into your ear. “You’re mine, all mine, do you hear me?”

Ignis found his resolve to be gentle wearing thin. He pinned your arms above your head and growled with a low predatory voice. “Look at me when I fuck you.” He thrust again, this time his strength had managed to move the entire bed. Who ever was passing by was surely listening in now.

You were embarrassed, you face heating up intently at such a demand. Of those you’ve been with, none of them compared to Ignis. Not even close. His eyes bore into yours. You found it impossible to look away for even a minute despite the rush of embarrassment rushing to your cheeks. You could feel tears sting your eyes at the intensity of Ignis burying himself deep within you

“Are you all mine?” you heard his whimper in your ear. “Tell me you’re all mine, Y/N. I want to hear it.”

“I-ignis?” You were surprised, but what else was new.

“Say yes...please?” his voice wavered unevenly. “I w-want to hear you say it before we come undone.”

“Y-yes.” you mewled. “Yours, all yours Iggy...”

“F-F-FUCK!” you heard him growl out loud. He balled his fists on either side of your head, his arms shaking. Ignis’s knuckled were turning white with how tightly he clenched the crisp sheets in his hands. No, he couldn’t go completely crazy with you yet, he wouldn’t. “Y/N...” he whispered lowly.

You could feel that cord like sensation right at the bottom of your stomach, it was ready to snap, you could tell. More importantly, Ignis could too. From the way he began moving faster and faster. He slammed his lips over yours again, shoving his tongue through your the gap in your lips to invade your mouth. This time it was your turn to get loud.

Ignis swallowed your moans, your whimpers, and those half-words you struggled to get out. He could tell you were close to that edge.

He fully intended to shove you right off it.

“Y/N!” he grunted.

You were first, feeling your own walls throb and tighten so hard around Ignis’s member. The sound of running water made you blush even harder in embarrassment. It was definitely loud enough for him to hear. Ignis was next in pursuit. He yanked his cock right from you, the contents spilling out everywhere from the bedsheets, to your stomach, to even the floor.

Ignis gently hovered his lips over yours softly, wrapping his arms around you. “Shhh, you’re shaking, Y/N.” he chuckled. “Did it feel that good?”

You wordlessly nodded, unable to find the words. With another laugh, he kissed your forehead. “Allow me to stay a while longer?” Another wordless nod.

“That was completely out of my character.” Ignis exhaled as he collapsed right next to you. “But I don’t care, not anymore..”

You were still recovering from the shaking in your legs to even think. It was completely out of your character too...

“Just like I don’t care that those insolent pests have been listening in on us the entire time.” Ignis chucked.

“How did you-”

“I’ve known those three my entire life, I wouldn’t put it past them Y/N.” Ignis replied. “But enough about them, just lay here in my arms....”

“Oh...O-okay.”

“Y/N...you know what this means, correct?” Ignis draped a tired arm around your body, pulling you closer to his chest. You could feel the rise and fall of each breath as you laid across one of his broad shoulders.

“I’m pretty sure, yeah.” you sighed. You certainly didn’t expect this, but you didn’t hate it.

Little did you know that in Ignis’s brain, he was going absolutely crazy. He had underestimated just how much he had pictured your screaming and needy body below him. Something within his soul went ablaze, and it had been worth every second he spent watching you.

“So....tell me more about this...Sennen character.”

Without giving another thought to him, you began unraveling your past with your old foe. Little did you know, Ignis was taking notes in his mind.

....

211 notes · View notes

fireyalex · 4 years ago

Note

B5 with oc's?

Prompt: Hiding an injury.

@badthingshappenbingo

bthb taglist: @vicdehart @northville-high @always-anxious612 @demidork84

Don’t Ask Questions

Characters: Blair Mirren, Bartender, Sienna. (OC content)

Warnings: Violence, threats, fighting, running, bleeding, wounded, mentions of stitches

It’s been four years since Blair Mirren has been brought back home, when times were the roughest they’ve been in centuries. Wars were breaking out all over the planet, and her kingdom’s peace treaty with the other kingdoms had become void. It certainly wasn’t what Blair had expected, to go from living peacefully on her own in the woods to finding out she’s the princess, soon to be queen, of a now widely hated kingdom. A kingdom that turned into a war zone.

Blair’s memories had slowly started to come back now that there were things here to remind her of her past, her childhood. Before she was sent away, Puonia had been a peaceful place, one that was allies with every other kingdom, loved by everyone. What could have possibly happened in the years she was gone? She desperately wanted to know, but every time the question was brought up, everyone deliberately changed the topic or straight up ignored her. Eventually, she decided that enough was enough and went into town to ask some of her citizens.

Despite the warnings from everyone, Blair had snuck out of her castle when it was dark out, making sure she wasn’t being followed. She decided to grab her bow and arrows, hidden underneath her jacket, just in case something were to happen while out, though she had plenty of faith in her people. So what if her parents were hated, as well as herself, by practically every person on the planet? Her people at least would still respect her, right?

Blair gripped her ruby necklace as she held onto her blue jacket with her other hand, giving herself support as she slipped into the darkness. It wasn’t often she went out into town, let alone in the dark. God, her parents were going to kill her if they found out she snuck out, she could only hope to be back before anyone noticed she was away.

After what felt like hours, she finally found a small building with lights still on. She immediately pulled her jacket’s hood over her head, trying to hide all evidence that she was the princess rather than just a citizen out late at night. She walked up to the building, noting the sign that read Serpent’s Pub.

Taking a deep breath, Blair pushed the door open and slipped inside. Almost instantly, she noticed how any sound that may have existed has now stopped. It was eerily quiet as she looked around, seeing everyone’s eyes land on her.

She watched as the bartender got out from around the counter and stalked up towards her, hand hidden inside his jacket. She took a step forward to greet him, only to be shoved against the door, his hand coming out to reveal a dagger held up against her throat. Her eyes widened as she looked up at him.

“You better have a good reason for coming in here,” the man drew out, an edge to his voice. “We don’t take too kindly to strangers. ‘Specially timid ones such as yourself, Missy.”

The man glared her down as she visibly gulped, trying to collect herself before she spoke.

“I-” She feigned a cough, realizing her accent that would surely give her away. After another moment, she spoke up again, making sure to disguise her voice.

“I was hoping I could collect some information. This was the only place I had seen that was open,” there was a slight tremor in her voice that she would only hope the man hadn’t noticed. “And for the record, I am not timid, as you so put it. Just because I am small doesn’t mean I can not fight back.” There was a hint of anger in those words as she glared, hoping the man would let her go.

He didn’t, and only pushed the dagger further against her throat. By then, all the other patrons started to gather around and watch this go down.

“Oh yeah? Well you best watch your mouth, little girl, or I’ll show you that you can’t fight back against me and these folk behind me,” he laughed and instantly, everyone around him began to laugh as well.

After the laughter died down, he released the hand with the dagger, but still held her firmly against the door.

“You best not be asking for something that’s none of y’er business, lil’ red. Now talk.”

She nodded quickly and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she attempted to collect herself before speaking.

“I only wished to ask… What has happened to this kingdom? Was it not once… You know, safe, before? And peaceful?” She felt her fake accent slip near the end, and cringed internally as she hoped she wasn’t recognized.

Unfortunately, her hopes weren’t exactly granted. The bartender glared his eyes at her, his lips stretching out into a snarl.

“You came out here to ask that? Well girly, unless you’ve been livin’ under a damn rock, you should already know the answer to that.”

Blair visibly paled at that. Of course, she should’ve realized that it was a known answer. She gulped once more, trying to force some confidence into her voice.

“I have not. Exactly been here to know of what has happened. I had a… Vacation, out on Earth, for a while.”

The room went dead silent. The patrons behind the bartender were staring at each other, and the man’s grip on Blair tightened.

“Y’er the fuckin’ princess, aren’t you?” He spat out through clenched teeth. “The only person to have gone off-planet for so long, and you end up here.”

“I-”

“You know what this means, lads?” He looked behind himself, deliberately cutting her off, as he grinned slow and cruel. “We’ve got ourselves a princess. No more cheap drinks from now on!”

Instantly, the patrons cheered as he turned back to Blair, “Now. You’re gonna give us a fortune, missy, or we’ll send ya home with a clear cut message.”

There was something in his voice that made Blair’s blood turn cold. She had dealt with her fair share of brutes, sure, but no one had compared to him in her experience. No matter what she said, she was screwed. Both by these guys, and by her parents. She shouldn’t even be out here in the first place, she just got too curious for her own good. God, she wanted to cry, but she knew it would only hinder herself, so she stayed as strong as she could.

“I am afraid that I do not have any money with me,” she replied with only a slight shake to her voice, “however if you let me go, I can go get as much money as you need?”

Blair flinched as a fist was slammed into the space right next to her head, creating a hole in the wall.

“I’ve dealt with my fair share of princesses, red. We ain’t letting you go without money, or sending your mommy and daddy a clear message.”

Blair looked down at the dagger clenched in the other’s hand, taking a deep breath before kicking him as hard as she could, her hands grasping his wrist with the dagger. The bartender stumbled back in surprise before he looked up, glaring at Blair with a thirst for blood.

“You’re gonna pay for that, red!”

He pulled his hand out of Blair’s grasp and swung, just barely missing as she jumped back.

Shit. She scrambled to get the door open while avoiding his throws, running out the second it gave way. She didn’t bother looking back as she ran for the castle, trying to lose the bartender and other patrons.

Next thing she knew, there was a sharp pain in her side, and she could feel the blood spilling onto her hands. Her eyes went wide, but she kept running, despite the agonizing pain running up her spine.

Blair turned a corner and without thinking, she rushed into the first door she found, leaning against the door as she breathed hard. She slid down the wooden door, clutching her side, as the tears rolled out. Everything hurt, and she was so afraid. If she were back on Earth, she would have sworn they were the ones who killed her entire village all those years ago.

Lights turned on as she sobbed, and she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching her until she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She tried to back away, but the pain quickly stopped her from doing so.

“I apologize I needed to hide and I could not keep running, I-”

The woman kneeling in front of her quickly shushed her, a kind expression on her face.

“It’s alright, dear. You’re clearly hurt, let me help you. Are you alright hun?”

Blair quickly shook her head, red hair falling into her face. “N-no.”

The woman hummed and got up, “I will be right back to get some supplies. Will you be alright here?” Once Blair nodded, she left the room.

----

A couple of hours later, Blair stumbled out of the kind woman’s home now that she was stitched up. The sun had begun to rise, and she only hoped she would get home before her parents woke up.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

She walked into the castle and immediately encountered her lady-in-waiting, who had been pacing around the entrance. Instantly, Sienna grabbed her shoulders.

“Oh my gosh, Blair! Where were you? I was worried sick!”

Blair looked at her and stood as straight as she could, a crooked smile on her face. “I just needed some fresh air, Si. I just was taking a walk. I apologize for worrying you.”

Blair gently shook Sienna’s hands off, and started walking off to her room. Before she could get far though, the other gently grabbed hold of Blair’s wrist.

“Forgive me, princess, but you’re… much paler than usual. Are you alright?”

Blair looked back and smiled, “I am quite alright. I am positive that it is nothing sleep can not fix. Even if a few short hours.”

Sienna hesitantly nodded and let Blair go, but watching carefully as she walked back. Suddenly, Blair collapsed in the hall, trying to grab the wall to keep herself upright. Her lady instantly ran to her side, eyes wide. It was then that she noticed the blood stains on her jacket.

“Princess! You’re injured! Let me help you to the doctor.” Sienna grabbed her arm to put around her shoulders, but Blair pulled back.

“I promise I am alright, I just. Need to lie down. Please, I am fine. Simply tired.” Her voice was quavering as she spoke, convincing no one but praying Sienna wouldn’t push further. “Just help me to my room before I pass out, please.”

“Your highness, I apologize but I must at least inform someone of your status. You are in no condition to go without seeing the doctor, please let me get you help.”

The princess was quick to shake her head, pleading in her eyes. “Please, Sienna. I am-” she winced at the sudden pain shooting up her side once more, “quite alright. Please, trust me.” I don’t want anyone to find out.

Sienna froze, before very slowly nodding. “I can’t say I fully approve, but… alright. However if you later require help, please let me get you a doctor. I don’t wish to see you injured.”

Blair nodded, but didn’t say anything else. She let Sienna help her up and help her move to her room, and help her to change into clean clothes and lie down. Thankfully, the other would just inform Blair’s parents that she simply fell ill and required some extra rest.

At least she doesn’t know what happened, and no one else knows I got injured. Thank heavens.

#Writing Alex #Writing Prompt #bad things happen bingo #OCs #original content #Blair Mirren #tw blood #tw violence #running #violence #fight #bloodshed #this is just barely under 2k god damn #I usually struggle hitting 1k so you can tell I enjoyed this jkfg #anyway I apologize if this feels rushed or anything #but also this is the first time I've actually written anything for her in years

13 notes · View notes

nyanbinary-chatnoir · 5 years ago

Text

The Call of The Miraculous

Royal/ Robin Hood Au

Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/ Marinette Dupain Cheng | Ladybug

Read on AO3

Prologue:

Adrien trudged the castle halls' mind racing through previous held conversations and discoveries of the night. King Gabriel hosted a ball and Adrien attended for a short amount of time, but the young prince had gotten enough of the guests and music before leaving for his room. Not bothering to tell his guard or Father he left. On his walk, Adrien turned a corner passing over a conversation between two castle workers. One spoke of King Gabriel's decision to push the poor back and closer to the edge of the country's borders. Where thefts and violence increased along with the loss of crops due to the poor soil.

Adrien had his back against the wall as he continued to listen. The other worker whispering about how King Gabriel fired another five workers. They had been kicked out the day they were fired with only the clothes on their backs.

Ears pounding his head, Adrien couldn't believe this. Was his Father this tyrant ruler? Sure Gabriel had his moments of being quip and short with those around him. But would he allow his people to starve and fall ill? Though Adrien had a busy schedule, sword practice, practice in etiquette, ballroom lessons, piano lessons, writing and reading lessons- okay.

His head thumped against the wall. Once putting everything in perspective he wouldn't have the time to overhear the details. He'd manage this conversation by escaping the party without anybody knowing. Eyes squeezing shut he let out a breath.

“Father?” he whispered to himself.

He would never allow his people to starve. For part of his country to collapse in shambles. But the way they spoke they sounded nervous, scared talking about his father. Afraid the walls were listening and they'd be kicked out next.

Tensing he heard workers' feet passing by and their quiet whispering. He relaxed when they turned down the hall and he was left alone with his thoughts.

Adrien continued his walk to his room, deep in thought and contemplation.

If by chance his father was this tyrant ruler, maybe he could speak to him? No, then his father may get mad and demand where he heard such things. He didn't want any castle staff getting in trouble. Adrien may not speak often with them, but they were all kind to him. The chef sneaking extra desert to him, Gorilla allowing him a few extra minutes of sword practice. Or the time in the garden.

He could send a letter to his Father. Not write his name on the parchment, but the risk still ran. Adrien scratched his head. Thinking of ways to address this issue without anyone getting in trouble or exiled.

Nearing his door he caught a thump nearby. He stopped. Ears training on where the sound was coming from.

A soft “ow” and another thump followed a moment later. A thief, perhaps?

If Adrien was quick enough he could run into his room and grab his sword.

Adrien grabbed his door handle when someone plowed into him sending them tumbling down.

Both Adrien and the person groaned.

“Oh no!”

Adrien let out another groan as he was kicked in the stomach as the thief scrambled off him in haste.

“Who are you?” The sound of a sword being drawn caught Adrien's attention. He made a move to sit up, but the thief pointed their sword directly at him. “Again, who are you?”

“Shouldn't I be the one asking you that? You plowed into me, pointed their sword at my face, breaking my Father's castle. I think you should introduce yourself first.” Adrien said. He couldn't see their face. Only having light illuminating through the hallway from the windows. Adrien took notice this person was no taller than himself. Maybe even shorter than him.

“Father's castle...?” The stranger drew back their sword whispering. “Wait are you the King's son?”

Folks heard stories of King Gabriel having a son, an heir, but no one ever saw him. Unless you were royalty or descended from royal blood. No villager had laid eyes on the prince.

“Yes, and you are...?” Adrien drawled.

The two jumped when thundering footsteps echoed the halls.

“If there's one, the rest are more than likely scattered the castle. No one is allowed to leave or enter. Search every room! Find the intruders on King Gabriel's orders!”

“Crud.”

Adrien's head whipped to the stranger, they were bouncing on the balls of their feet trying to find someplace to hide or escape. He gulped, standing fast he grabbed the stranger's arm and pulled them in his room, shutting it behind him.

Struggling against his hold the stranger stepped back. “What?”

“No time for questions, hide underneath my bed and do not, I mean do not make a sound,” he said pushing the stranger towards his bed. “Hurry, now.”

Adrien couldn't tell if it was the footsteps of his heart pounding or the guards but he didn't have time to guess. The guards were quickly approaching his room. He didn't understand why he grabbed them or told them to hide.

He lit an oil lamp, grabbed a book, and pretended to be reading.

A sharp knock on his door. “Prince Adrien?”

Adrien cleared his throat. “Yes?” he answered.

“Permission to enter?”

He set his book down on his bedside table. “Permission to enter.”

A castle guard entered his room giving a steep bow. “My apologies for disrupting you, my prince, but we have intruders roaming in the castle. On King Gabriel's order, we are to find them all. Have you seen or heard them? They haven't tried attacking you?” he asked.

“Uh, no I haven't heard anything, I left the ballroom and retired to my room. If I do hear anything I'll alert a castle guard. Immediately.”

Adrien clutched his book tightly in hands, hoping this guard bought his act.

Silence.

“Very well I will let you're Father knows where you are and we will send your guard to your door.” The guard said pausing at his door.

Adrien held his breath. Did he catch the stranger under his bed? Was he going to get in trouble? Oh, his father would be furious if he found he was harboring an intruder.

“Please make sure to lock your window and door, my prince,” the guard said. “You are kind and I would hate to see something happened to you.” He gave a bow before leaving.

At the click of the door, Adrien flopped on his bed. The minutes the guard spent in his were the most intense in his life. And he's given recital performances in front of his father and guests he thought were brutal. Then he remembered who was underneath his bed after a sneeze.

He lifted the sheets peering under his bed. “You can come out now, the coast is all clear,” he said.

Adrien waited a minute before the stranger crawled out from his bed. His eyes widen. This stranger was just a teen like himself.

“You're a teenager like me!” he said.

A hand covered his mouth. “Do you want me to get caught?” She hissed.

Adrien shook his head no.

“Why did you help me?” She asked, removing her hand and standing back. She eyed the young prince. He had aided an intruder in hiding. At first appearance, the prince seemed to pose no threat, but appearances can be misleading and one thing Ladybug had been taught is to always be on guard. She couldn't let those warm green eyes let her guard down.

“To be perfectly honest? I don't have an answer to that. I saw you panicking and my body moved on its own,” Adrien said rubbing his neck. If she had been caught it would also create a scandal in the castle. A girl in the prince's room? The commotion would cause.

She crossed her arms. “You're an odd prince.”

“Says the one who broke into the King's castle.” He grinned.

The girl flushed. While Ladybug had her stealth moments, other times like so before she didn't have luck on her side. She sighed. Now she had to figure a way out, and with so many guards hustling around the castle on high alert, there is no way it will be easy.

Ladybug buried her face in her hands muffling a scream. And she had no way to contact the others.

Adrien looked at her in worry.

“We need a way to get you out of here. I have no doubt my father will send guards back to my room again,” Adrien said resting his head on his palm.

He received a groan in reply.

A light bulb appeared over his head he snapped his fingers walking over to his wood chest shuffling through his things.

“I got it!” From it, he pulled out a rope. A long line of rope.

Adrien and she shared a staring contest.

“Rope? To uh, help you get down?” he said nervously. “Unless you're afraid of heights? Oh gosh, I never thought of that.” Adrien set the rope down and began pacing his room. “I suppose we could wait until early morning. I'm sure the commotion will all calm down.” Adrien contemplated as he leaned against his bedpost. “What do you think?”

Ladybug could only blink. Taking in everything he said.

“Why, why are you helping me?” She asked licking her lips. “I'm an intruder, I broke into your castle, I pulled my sword on you!”

Ladybug trying to comprehend his thinking process.

“You did,” He said slowly, shifting his legs. “I just, may I ask a question?”

“Sure?”

“Is my father, the King, is he like everyone says he is?” Adrien's voice lowered to a whisper.

She took a breath. “You want me to be honest?”

The prince nodded. He needed confirmation from someone else. A second voice other than the castle workers. Since Adrien can be guaranteed no other staff will.

“The King has not much done for the people living near the border. From what I have been told and learned this all started several years ago. Farmers had a rough farming season one year, causing a shortage of food. Thievery and fights, not uncommon, became more prominent. People desperate for food, families needing to feed their children. King Gabriel began pushing the poor towards the border.”

Adrien sucked in a breath as if someone punched him in the gut.

“He's done little to help those in need, nor has he rid of the taxes that those of us can barely afford. Children and elderly are growing sick with the little food they have,” she said clenching her fists in her lap. Her family struggled through those years, but her parents always made sure she was fed, but she always felt guilty when one skipped on a meal.

“Then a year later a group rose, The Miraculous, showed up, fighting to defend those who couldn't defend themselves, managing to sneak food or extra coins to families.” She smiled thinking about them. “If not for them I wouldn't be here likely. I was attacked and two of them came to my rescue. After that, seeing them helping others, I wanted to be part of the help. The solution.”

Adrien listened to her story taking a seat on his bed in front of her. Dissolving every piece of information she's given him.“Aren't you young though? To be out fighting?”

“I don't fight anyone, yes they trained me for two years with a sword, and yes they allowed me to join their group. I mainly do sneaking around and lookout,” she said smiling sheepishly. “I had to beg Tikki to let me go on this mission. I have to stay far away from the King, however.”

“Not quite how you planned this night to go, I assume?” Adrien laughed. Plowing into the prince, being helped by the said prince who she is now sharing this story with. An odd evening.

“Thank you for telling me about my Father.”

“I know this isn't easy to hear and I'm-”

Adrien held up a hand stopping her.

“Please don't apologize, no one should apologize for my Father's behavior. It should be the other way round. I should be apologizing to you, the people,” he said bowing his head. “I had no clue my Father could be so cruel. But hearing your story and other worker's story...”

Adrien messed with his hair. All of this in one night was too crazy. He had no idea what to do or say to his Father. He couldn't allow it to continue. His country's people should not suffer any longer.

A hand tapped his chin up. He stared into beautiful bluebell eyes. Also taking the first note of her red, and black polka-dotted mask. Ladybug placed a gloved hand on his cheek.

“I believe you,” she said. “And you shouldn't apologize either, you have no control over the King's tyranny and cruelty.”

“No, but maybe I could have said-”

“Your Highness,”

“Adrien,” he said correcting her. “Your highness is too formal for me.”

“Adrien.” She smiled. “Your Father I think will not listen to anyone, Tikki and others have all tried but he abides by no one but himself.”

He placed his hand over hers. “May I know your name?”

Adrien had to know this stranger's name. She was smart, brave, and beautiful. He loved how her eyes twinkle behind her mask.

“A-ah, it's um, uh, Ladybug, your highness.” She stammered.

“Adrien.” He corrected her again. “I can't have your real name?” He pouted when Ladybug shook her head.

“Our names and faces must remain a secret,” she said shaking her head as she removed her hand. Realizing she touched the crown prince's face, good heavens! Folding her arms behind her.

“Boo.”

Ladybug giggled and Adrien wanted to listen to her all day. He knew his father would have a fit with him talking with a supposed enemy. Adrien couldn't find it in his heart to hate or despise her or care. Ladybug was brave and kind. Something he aspires to be.

“You are kind and brave yourself, y'know,” Ladybug said.

Oh. Did he say that out loud?

Ladybug giggled. “You did say it out loud. I'm honored you think of me that way, however.” Her cheeks flushed.

Adrien felt his neck heating up. Was it just him or had his room gotten warmer all of sudden? Standing abruptly he went back over to the rope he held it out to her.

“It's a rope for emergencies. It reaches to the ground. My Father and the council agreed I should have it in my room. Like if a fire broke out.” He said explaining.

“Smart idea.” She nodded. And resourceful, she could get out of here.

He opened his window scanning the area to assure the coast was clear, tying one end to an iron bar placed beneath the window, he allowed the rope to drop. Adrien watched it drop down, making sure Ladybug could reach the ground with no problem.

Turning towards Ladybug he gave a bow. “Your escape,” he said with a wink.

“Thank you, your highness,” she said giving him a curtsy in return.

Climbing on the window sill having secured a hold on the rope she looked at Adrien. “Thank you for everything, I know how much trouble you could get into with your father but I appreciate your kind gesture.” She moved her hair behind her hair.

In a bold move she gave a quick kiss to Adrien's cheek, the prince gasping and cheeks turning pink.

“May one day our paths cross again one day, Adrien,” she said. Her heart felt like it could beat right out of the chest.

Ladybug climbed down expertly and with grace. Adrien scrambled to the window watching her make her way safely.

He cut the rope allowing Ladybug to take it running off, climbing over the castle's wall, and disappearing into the unknown.

Adrien touched his cheek she kissed, wistfully he leaned against his window. He was saddened to see her leave but this is a meeting he would never forget.

“What a gal,” he said to himself.

Tomorrow he would begin his quest.

No longer would he be under the control of his father. Adrien would need help; however.

The next day he had Kagami, Max, and his guard meet him in his Father's royal garden for a meeting.

He discussed with him what he learned and was told the day before. Gorilla nodded in understanding, he too was not happy with how King Gabriel was ruling. However being a mere guard to his son gave him to chance to speak, unless he wished to be fired. He'd grown attached to Prince Adrien over his years guarding him. Gorilla would not leave his side. Giving and swore to an oath to protecting Adrien. One he would carry to his grave.

Max reluctantly to give his opinion on King Gabriel, gave his predictions and calculations of how the country could fare underneath his power. Sadly stating it would take a few short years for those starving to fall.

Kagami gave her statements. While notably being trained and given the best sparring and sword lessons in the country even she agreed King Gabriel was not fit to take the throne. Stating there was a difference between being stern and fair. And running a country with an iron fist. King Gabriel sat cowardly behind castle walls as he gave orders to push and hurt those who could not fight back. His guards taking advantage of their King being behind walls. Thieving begun among their own, taking over bars, starting fights with villagers to turn around and throw them in jail.

Truly his kingdom was a mess and King Gabriel did not seem to care.

Adrien told his friends of his escape plan, no more did he want to stay behind castle walls as he heard stories of his people in trouble. Telling them of The Miraculous. They could run away for a few years to train and join them. Become stronger themselves, fight back against King Gabriel to end this rain of terror.

It hurt Adrien more than anything to fight against his father, someone he loved dearly, but steadily coming to dislike the more he realized how much Gabriel sheltered him. Away from people, his country, and friends.

The three others agreed and set to make preparations. In three days they would leave. Three days to prepare supplies and plan their escape. They could do it.

And in three days Prince Adrien, his two friends, and the guard left. Their adventure beginning. While King Gabriel furiously paced the castles in search of his son. Three others missing with him too. He would see to it Adrien's guard be exiled.

“Find them and bring them back immediately!” King Gabriel roared.

Three and a half years later Chat Noir arrived with three comrades.

Now having to deal with Ladybug, King Gabriel had another ruffian matter to deal with among the Miraculous.

#miraculous ladybug #my fic: the call of the miraculous #ladrien #ladynoir #ml

51 notes · View notes

freedom-shamrock · 5 years ago

Text

Bi the Pricking of my Thumbs #4

<< Chapter 3

Cautionary note: This chapter includes a references to and conversations with unsupportive queer-phobic parents, some bigotry, and use of straight nonsense. There is also a dildo for comedic purposes.

Also on AO3. If you’re so inclined, feel free to support me over on Ko-Fi

Chapter 4

Ladybug looked out into the colorful sea of Pride celebrants pouring into Place de la République. The energy was amazing, and she couldn't keep the smile off her face. "Oh gosh, check out those wings!" She slapped at Chat's arm to draw his attention to the wire and sheer-fabric construction heading their way. They sat at the feet of the statue of Marianne, where they could catch a good look at the parade while also keeping an eye out for trouble. They'd already delivered two pickpockets, a lost child, and an obvious full-spectrum queer-phobe to the police. The last one had been the most concerning, given that he had a butane lighter and a soaker style water gun loaded with something that smelled highly flammable.

"Wings?" Chat Noir said, frantically looking into the sky.

"No, silly," she said with a laugh. She tilted his head back to the crowd. " Good wings. Down there."

"I'm kind of surprised people still wear butterfly wings around here," he said, his smile bright as he waved to the shirtless man who had realized his articulated wings had caught the attention of Paris' heroes. "Oh geez, he's hot, too."

Ladybug laughed again. She just felt so full of happiness, surrounded by this celebration, sharing it with her best friend. "He really is. But I get a feeling he'd be more accepting of your advances than mine."

"Pffft." He snorted. The rainbow wings opened to flash paired male symbols in the upper half of the forewing, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the man was wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Chat..

"Was it hard for you to get away?" she asked. His father had continued to get weirder as the annual Pride festival approached. Likewise, Gabriel had been increasingly strict with Adrien's schedule, and she worried for both of them.

Chat Noir shrugged. "As far as I know, he thinks I'm in my room binging on anime."

She shook her head, disgusted. She'd already approached her parents about letting Adrien move in with them if he found he couldn't stand it with his father any longer. She wondered if it was time to extend the same welcome to Chat Noir. He deserved it just as much.

"What about you?" he asked. "You’re here with friends, right?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "I'm supposed to be marching with my school's Gender and Sexuality Alliance. I started the parade with them." She shrugged. "Fortunately, I have a reputation as a total space cadet, and in this crowd they won't be surprised to have lost me halfway through the parade."

He gawked at her. "Your friends think you're a ditz? Ladybug? The genius behind this operation?" He gestured to the two of them.

She shrugged. "It just reinforces the idea that normal me is nothing like Ladybug. And that's good. Besides, I'm not the only clever one here."

He frowned. "I'm not sure I'm on board with them thinking poorly of you just for a cover. You're amazing, Milady. And I'd bet you're just as amazing in your regular life."

She gave him a hug. "And you're a sweetheart." He melted against her, as he usually did when hugged. "If you need more hugs today, there are some forty and fifty-year olds walking around with shirts that say free mom hugs and free dad hugs." Her parents happened to be part of that group, wearing shirts she'd screen-printed.

"That sounds heavenly." He sat back up. "Eew, cultural appropriation to your right." He shook his head, raising his baton to snap a quick picture. "What do Native American warbonnets have to do with sexuality?"

“Nothing.” Ladybug rolled her eyes. "Like anything, this festival can be used as an excuse to cross some lines that shouldn't be. What are you doing?"

"I'm going to make a post about that kind of thing. Later." His head turned the other way, and his hand came up to cover his mouth. "Holy crap. Look. At. Those. Platforms."

She searched for a moment, eventually finding the person in a fluffy white tutu standing precariously in platform shoes that were easily twelve inches high. "Wow. Those are like… they're nearly as tall as the Chix on Stix stilts were."

"Blister city," Chat said. " Mad respect for them making it through the parade in those."

"I bet Adrien Agreste could handle those," she said, smiling at the thought of Adrien sweeping down the runway in those ridiculous things. He'd grown quite fond of the over-the-top nature of runway, preferring it to the bland studio shoots he did far too many of. And to be fair, he was crazy good at it.

"Really?" Chat grinned at her, then eyed up the person in the platforms again. "I know he's good, Paris' golden boy and all, but those might be out of his league."

Ladybug vehemently shook her head, and opened her bandalore to catch a picture. "He's a god among men when it comes to fashion and presentation."

"You've got that look," he said, arching one eyebrow. "What's going on in that clever brain of yours?"

"I want to challenge Adrien to walk in a pair of those," she said. "It might take me a few days to figure out how to pitch it, but I think he'd enjoy the opportunity to flaunt his skills."

"Keep me in the loop on that," Chat Noir said. "I want to see how that turns out."

"Will do." She tucked her bandalore away.

"Is your sweetheart not coming to Pride?" he asked, as if suddenly realizing that could be a thing. "I'm not keeping you from something important to them, am I?"

She patted his shoulder. "They don't care for crowds, and prefer to watch the parade and big festivities on TV. They're hosting a party with several of our friends tomorrow, because we know some other queer folk who need a lower key event." She wished she could invite Adrien, but he wasn't ready to share his identity with anyone else. He'd scheduled a visit with Luka, though, so she was cautiously optimistic that his future was going to be brighter. Their friend group wasn’t remotely hetero, and she was reasonably sure they could all keep a secret. Alya had come out as pan and poly shortly after her amicable split with Nino at the beginning of Lycee. She was currently in a relationship with both Chloe and Kagami that utterly baffled Marinette, but as long as her friend was happy, it didn’t matter. Nino had been a quieter about his orientation, but he’d casually dated men and women, and she strongly suspected he was holding a torch for his best friend..

Chat Noir reached to point out something of interest, but a sudden blast of pop music that could only be Taylor Swift drowned out the sounds of the parade. He froze, his eyes wide and his tail stiff with alarm.

"Crapity snacks," Ladybug muttered. "Looks like breaktime is over, Kitty." She rose to peer around the statue to see the akuma. He stood on the taller brick corner tower of a building on the corner of Rue du Faubourg du Temple. He was dressed all in blue, carrying a white flag featuring old school male and female symbols holding hands.

"Odds on it being that piece of trash we picked up earlier," Chat suggested.

"It's either him, or someone just like him," she muttered. “So gross.”

"I'm The Oppressed, and I'm sick of being spit on by the heterophobic queers of Paris!" the akuma bellowed in a magically amplified voice. "You degenerates have infected my daughter with your alternative lifestyles, so today we're going to celebrate straight pride!"

"Ugh," Ladybug groaned. "Such straight nonsense."

The Oppressed waved his flag at the closest group of revelers, and a beam of white light washed over them, changing their clothes into conservative blue suits or pink dresses. Those now in pink had long styled hair, full makeup, and jewelry that many would have considered feminine. Those in blue had short hair and broad watches and briefcases.

"Oh hells no!" Ladybug drew back her bandalore, preparing to throw. "We need to get him the fuck out of here. There are people here with significant gender dysphoria, and we are not letting Hawkass do this to them during their festival." She loosed her bandalore, cutting through the sky directly in The Oppressed's view, and landing on the corner tower across the street from him. "You want my earrings, you ugly bigot? Come and get them!" She swished her bi flag cape at him, hoping the taunt was enough to refocus his attention.

"Ladybug!" The Oppressed shouted. "You're the worst offender. Your speeches boasting about your disgusting choice convinced my daughter to come out as pansexual."

"I'm proud of your daughter," Ladybug called back. She felt bad for the girl who had this man as her father. "You'd do better to love her for who she is , than for who you think she should be."

"You know nothing of parenting." The harsh voice carrying over the roof behind The Oppressor gave her chills; for the first time in over a year, Hawk Moth had shown up for one of his own fights. "You're a mere child. And children need guidance from their parents."

She wanted to punch that smug look right off his face.

"Children are suggestible and will make foolish decisions at the encouragement of their stupid friends and… heroes." He sneered the last word.

He was furious, and it was obvious. Could she get him irrational enough to make a mistake? Perhaps today was the day they would finally capture the moth. "Awww. You make it sound so personal," she said, pouting at him, hoping to feed his anger. "Wait-wait-wait. Do you actually have kids?" Now that was a horrifying thought.

He scowled. "If you must know, yes. My naive son is here some where, thanks to you and those idiot friends of his." God his words were so very Gabriel. It was like they used the same conservative parenting guide. "You've made him think there's no harm in exploring--" He was cut off by a sudden roar from the crowd of Pride attendees that rose over the chorus of the pop song How You Get the Girl.

A blast of glitter-filled air rose to the rooftops, plastering both Hawk Moth and The Oppressor in sparkles. She glanced down and saw Chat Noir with a group of people including the butterfly man they'd admired earlier. In a coordinated effort, Chat spun his baton to create a strong enough wind to carry a second pile of glitter up to the villains.

"You take care of Chat Noir!" Hawk Moth snapped, coughing out a cloud of sparkly fragments. "I'll handle the bug."

"I do not consent to your hands being anywhere near me," Ladybug sassed. The very idea creeped her out, but he was the one who introduced hands to the conversation. "Hasn't anyone ever taught you that no means no?" She threw her bandalore up. "Lucky charm!" She caught the spotted item glancing quickly at it, then grinning as she looked across the street at the man who had terrorized Paris for years.

Hawk Moth's confident bearing faltered a moment.

"So tell me Hawky, you wanna get lucky?" She held aloft the sizeable silicone dildo, shaking it enough to make it wiggle and almost giggling as he visibly blanched. "I think my miraculous is suggesting that you need a bit of help getting rid of some tension." She heard chaos below, and suddenly Chat Noir was beside her.

"Milady, I bring you the spoils of war." He knelt, presenting her with the hideous flag.

"Oh Kitty, you always know what I want." She traded the dildo for the flag. "Keep tabs on our dear friend for me. I'd hate for him to go fluttering off." She snapped the thin flagpole in half, ripping the banner for good measure. Once the purified butterfly was released, and the few Parisians who'd been modified by the akuma had been restored, she could focus on the rest of this situation.

"Might I trouble you for one of your ribbons?" Chat Noir asked, watching their long time enemy with a look that could only be described as predatory. "I have an idea."

Hawk Moth's composure was clearly shaken, and he suddenly scrambled to the far edge of the tower, clearly planning to drop to a lower portion of the building's roof in retreat.

Ladybug slipped one of her ribbons free, dropping it into Chat's hand. "I look forward to putting your idea into action. I'll keep Monsieur Hate-Filled-Bigot from straying too far, while you do that." She soared over the gap between the buildings. Early in their tenure as heroes, she'd been responsible for all the ideas. While she'd always managed to come through, it had been terribly stressful. It was such a relief to find that her partner had his share of good plans.

Hawk Moth yanked a sabre out of his cane, training the tip on her. "I will not hesitate to pin you to the roof like an insect in a display box," he snarled.

Close melee with edged weapons was more of Chat's thing, but changing the situation in her own favor, was hers. "I'd love to see you try." Her wrist snapped out, wrapping the line of her bandalore around the thin blade. A quick yank pulled the weapon out of his hand, sending it clattering to the roof behind her.

Hawk Moth let out a screech of rage. It was cut off as Chat Noir launched himself overhead, arcing gracefully to land farther down the roof, trapping their enemy between them.

Chat thumped the bottom of his staff against the roof, and the dildo he'd tied upright on the top jiggled in response. "Mine's better than yours," the cat superhero said proudly. He gestured to his enhanced weapon in case the modification hadn't been immediately clear. He twirled the staff in his hands before lunging and jabbing it at Hawk Moth.

Ladybug grinned, realizing her partner's plan as Hawk Moth apparently forgot all about her in his desire to get away from the spotted silicone dick. With a light tug, her cape came off in her hands. Two quiet steps and she flicked the end out to snap Hawk Moth's cheek.

In a matter of moments, she was able to wrap the man in a tight cocoon of magical pride fabric, only his neck and head free. If Chat's final blow, a slap of the dildo to Hawk Moth's temple, came later than strictly necessary, she wasn't going to mention it. The jerk had ruined a ridiculous number of her plans over the years. She stared at him for a moment, the way she might assess an akuma in search for the object they needed to break.

“Tie tack,” she said, keeping her grip on the villain lest he should escape when they were so close to winning.

Chat reached out and plucked the miraculous from Hawk Moth's collar, and the costume vanished in a wave of purple light, leaving Gabriel Agreste tightly bundled in a bisexual pride flag. The irony was not wasted on Ladybug.

"Oh." Chat said softly. "Well I guess that makes more sense than it doesn't."

Furious that the man who had been terrorizing Paris for most of her teen years was Adrien's asshole father, Ladybug grabbed his lapels and gave a yank. As he lurched forward, she brought up her knee, driving it into his nose.

"You'll pay for that," Gabriel snarled as blood dribbled down his face. "Brutality of a suspect in your custody is a punishable offense."

"Brutality?" Chat asked calmly. "I didn't see anything. You must've gotten your nose broken during the fight." He shrugged. "If only Ladybug hadn't already cured Paris of your akuma's damage… I guess you'll just have to live with it." He shook his head in mock sympathy. "Oh look!" He pointed to a collection of cop cars, their lights flashing as they parked along Rue du Faubourg du Temple. "Your escort has arrived to take you to your new home."

Ladybug helped Chat Noir deliver Gabriel to the police but had to go recharge while they took Chat's statement. By the time she'd gotten far enough from the festival to feed Tikki, retransform, and return, there was no sign of the cavalcade that had appeared to deliver Gabriel to the station. In fact, it took her another ten minutes of searching to find her partner, sitting cross-legged as he watched the parade continue to fill Place de la République. He looked a little sad, maybe wistful.

"Hey Kitty," she said, alighting beside him.

"Welcome back, Bug." He sighed, leaning into her as she slipped an arm around him.

"So that just happened," she said. It didn't quite feel real.

He plucked the tiny miraculous from one of his pockets, holding it out to her. "It definitely did."

"Do you want to hold onto it until we get it to Fu?" she asked.

"That would be inadvisable," he replied. "But thank you for trusting me."

She slipped the miraculous into one of the pockets she'd demanded when she'd re-designed her suit a few years back. "So Hawk Moth's out of the picture, and we always said we'd do a reveal once that was done," she pointed out.

He nodded, but didn't leap on the idea the way she expected him to.

"I'm kind of in a mood to beat the crap out of biphobic fathers," she said, squeezing his shoulder. "So I may as well find out who you are. And if he's a real piece of work, you can come live with me."

He stared at her, slowly blinking. "Really?"

She nodded. “I’m friends with Adrien Agreste. I can tell you that now. And I’ve already gotten permission from my parents for him to take the guest room.” She sighed. “I figured he might need an escape from his father, and that was before I knew he was Hawk Moth.”

“And your parents were just okay with that?” he asked, his eyes wide with shock.

“They love Adrien. They’d adopt him if they could.” She gave him a sad smile.

“I bet he’d let them,” he said softly, oddly choked up.

“I’m sure the same goes for you,” she insisted, already considering logistics. She could take the spare room, giving Adrien and Chat her room to share. “Now are you going to let me know who you are so I can rough up your father, or what?”

He laughed. “You already did, Bug.” He shook his head. “Hawk Moth was my father, and I am totally moving in with you.”

* * * * * * * *

Chapter 5 >>

Inspirations: Articulated Wings Platform Shoes

#Miraculous Ladybug #fanfic #my writing #Pride #Bi Pride #galahadwilder #Bi the Pricking of my Thumbs #Bi-Drien #Bi-Nette #Bi-phobic parent #capes

55 notes · View notes

monstersandmaw · 6 years ago

Text

White ermine mothman x female reader (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a commission for @thekingsrock who asked for a super fluffy story with a female reader and an equally fluffy monster. I asked if they were ok with a mothman, and we went from there! I hope you enjoy!

___

You rolled your head, trying to ease some of the stiffness from your neck as you stood in line, waiting to order the smoothie you’d been craving for the last four hours at work. You needed something refreshing, delicious, and as packed full of neat antioxidants as you could get.

The folk in front of you were umm-ing and ahh-ing at the counter, the barista was getting super impatient but trying his hardest not to show it, and had been a hundred million degrees outside that day, only now beginning to cool off. You drew in a deep breath, trying to calm brain that was going a little ragged at the edges, and make the most of the cafe’s wonderful air-conditioning after a day in an office with AC units so ancient they might have been prototypes designed by Hephaestus himself…

As you stood there, closing your eyes for a moment, you became aware of the couple behind you talking about the ‘monsters’ who had recently begun integrating more into human society.

“I mean,” the woman said, sounding scandalised. “In my day, of course we knew about them, but you didn’t have some dirty great bat living next door! It just didn’t happen! They had the decency to take themselves off to the woods or wherever they belong, and they stayed there.”

“I know,” the man – presumably her husband – replied with equally offended gravity. “And that vile slime creature is living above us! Who knows what will ooze through the ceiling into our apartment. I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Can I help you?” the barista said, and you snapped back to the moment, realising the dithering party in front of you had finally made up their mind and ordered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I was miles away.”

“I’m sure it’s the heat,” he smiled. “And sorry to keep you waiting.”

You eyed the group waiting at the end of the counter for their drinks and looked back up at him. “It wasn’t your fault…” you said and he smiled. “I’ll have the ‘summer special’ smoothie to go please.”

“Anything extra with that?”

You shook your head. “Just the fruit please. I need it neat after today,” you grinned.

“Go easy on the hard stuff,” he laughed back as he put the order through. “It really packs a punch, or so I’m told.”

“I’m counting on it.” You paid, collected your fresh fruit smoothie that was really more of a work of art than a drink, and headed reluctantly back out into the evening.

It was still warm, though the sun was beginning to dip below the skyscrapers of the city. Taking a longer route home than usual, feeling the need to stretch your legs, you took a right and crossed the street, scuffing your heels and occasionally sipping on the smoothie. It was delicious but you really wanted to save it for when you were back home, and could curl up on the sofa and watch something trashy and mindless for a bit.

Emerging from the cut-through onto the street which bordered the city park, you saw a figure standing on the other side who was most definitely not human.

At first you thought it was a tall person wearing a white cape, dotted here and there with black spots, but then you noticed the thick ruffle at the neck, and the fact that there were two sets of arms reaching up to pluck ripe peaches from a tree in the park.

You had already begun crossing the deserted road when they looked around, and your lips parted in a soft gasp surprise when you saw the enormous, tapering, black eyes staring back at you. The long, dark, fluffy looking antennae twitched and those stunning wings fluttered. They shifted nervously and you saw that they had the most delicate feet imaginable; they hardly looked like they’d support the rest of the body at all.

“Hi,” you said as you approached.

The antenna gave another shiver, and then they opened their mouth to speak. “Hello,” they said shyly, voice soft and warm.

“You know,” you said, eyeing the tree, “I’ve walked along this road at least once a week for the last four years, and I’ve never noticed there’s a peach tree here.”

“Really?” they asked, antennae going stiff and the wings too. “I mean, haven’t you ever smelled it?”

You shook your head. “Nope.”

“Oh, you have to try one – here, let me get you one.”

With the delicacy of a surgeon, the moth reached up and plucked a ripe peach from a branch well out of your reach, and handed it down to you. Their hands were black, and only had two fingers and a thumb each, but as your fingers brushed their palm, you felt just how soft their skin was. The backs of their hands were covered in the same white, fluffy fur that covered the rest of their arms, shoulders, legs, and face. Their abdomen was fluffy too, but ribbed in ochre and black and white.

“There.”

“Thank you,” you said, biting into it. Juice ran down your chin and you giggled, reaching into your pocket for a tissue. “Wow, gosh, it’s delicious!”

“I’m Niall, by the way,” he said, holding out one of the lower of his two sets of hands for you to shake.

You stuck out your free hand – the one that didn’t have peach juice running down to your elbow – and shook it, managing to say your own name successfully around a mouthful of peach.

“Miss, could… could I ask you why you came over to talk to me?” he asked, his long, black antennae drooping slightly.

“Do you mind?” you asked, suddenly worried you’d intruded.

“No! Not at all!” he said, holding up all four hands and waving them anxiously. “No, I’m sorry. I just… I wondered why, that’s all.”

You laughed softly. “Honestly, I heard this older couple talking in the café just now about how in ‘their day’ non-humans wouldn’t have ‘dared show their faces’ in the city or some such bullshit, and then I saw you on my way home, and I got curious. I guess I wanted to meet someone who wasn’t human and make up my own mind. Does that make sense?”

He smiled sweetly and relaxed. “Yes,” he said. “It does. You know what?” he said, fluffing himself up slightly in a way that made you want to make a little noise; it was so cute. “I think this is the first conversation I’ve ever had with a human.” His antennae pricked up and he shuffled his wings again, making a little purring noise and immediately clamping a hand over his little mouth. “Excuse me,” he added, fidgeting his wings.

“Same for me, but the other way around,” you smiled, doing your best to ignore the unfathomably adorable noises he made. “I’m glad I did. Do you live in the city?”

He nodded. “A little garret room that’s perfect for me. Easy access to outside, with nice, cosy, warm corners to curl up in inside…”

“Sounds idyllic.” The sun finally dropped below the horizon and you yawned. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to head home through the park I think, but I’m glad I met you. Maybe I’ll spot some more things I’ve never noticed before…?”

He seemed to droop a bit again. “Would you like me to walk with you? I understand if it’s too presumptuous, but –”

“ – I’d love that,” you grinned.

He gathered up his small basket of peaches and held it in the crook of his lower elbow, and looked down at you. “May I offer you my arm?” he asked bashfully.

“You sound like you’ve been reading too many 19th century novels, Niall,” you laughed.

His wings fluttered. “Well… I don’t have much chance to talk to humans, and I do rather like literature. Forgive me if I’m… a little… out of touch…”

“You’re fine,” you giggled. “Just ease up on the Mr. Bingley act…?”

“You like Pride and Prejudice?” he chirruped as you slipped your hand into the deep fur of his arm.

“Yeah, I’ve read it,” you chuckled.

The two of you walked along the outer railing of the park for a while until you reached the entrance, and wound your way together through the gathering dusk.

You talked of this and that as you walked, and you found yourself warming more and more to the sweet figure beside you. He was tall, around six foot, and every time you passed a street light, he would pause his conversation and look up at it in fascination.

“You like the lights,” you commented as you passed a pond and the lights of the city reflected in its surface. His delicate feet stalled and he sighed wistfully at the glimmering points of light on the water.

His antennae flattened themselves to his head and he sighed. “Cliché much?” he sighed, wrenching his gaze away and letting it fall briefly on you.

“Maybe,” you said, “But you don’t have to be embarrassed about being enchanted by the lights. I like fairy lights myself – my apartment is full of them.”

“Really?” he asked. “I should like to see that. I mean –” he added, looking bashful again, “I’m not inviting myself in, I’m just… oh dear…”

“It’s alright,” you chuckled.

You left the park, and he walked you to your door. “Listen, would you like to come up?”

“I don’t want to intrude,” he said, letting go of you and stepping back gracefully.

You held up the hardly-touched smoothie in one hand. “I was going to make some inroads into this,” you said invitingly. “Want to help me out?”

He turned his face to the smoothie cup and the very tip of his long tongue darted out, tasting the air. His antennae pricked up, his fur collar fluffed and his wings fluttered. “Is that… strawberry?”

You nodded.

“Oh gosh,” he said. “I have a horribly sweet tooth, especially for fruit…” He held up the basket of peaches as proof.

“Come on in then,” you said.

“Really?”

“Sure? Why not?”

“We just met!” he said. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but… Most humans are terrified of us. They definitely don’t invite us non-humans into their homes!”

You shoved the key into the lock and stepped inside, holding the door open. “Yeah, well, maybe I’m not like the humans you’ve met so far. Remember, I’ve got fairy lights…”

He laughed. “Perhaps I should be the one worrying about my safety if you’re so keen to get me inside.”

“But you’re so big!” you laughed. “I couldn’t take you down even if I tried! Look at me!”

He chuckled and fluttered his wings. “I can be intimidating if I need to, but if there’s smoothie and fairy lights, well…”

You showed him up, and he gasped as you flicked on the lights for him. Dazzled, mesmerised, he stood there, his wings slightly open, his antennae waving softly about, his hands hanging limp at his sides. Tiny fairy lights were trailed around every window-frame, glowing softly, and in a tall, ceramic vase on the floor in one corner, you’d wrapped some around some tall, straight twigs to make a display of them.

“It’s beautiful,” he smiled, turning to meet your gaze. “Truly.”

“Thanks,” you grinned. “Make yourself at home, and here,” you said as you handed him the smoothie cup. “I’ll grab you a straw.”

He paused, his long tongue a heartbeat away from dipping into the drink, and he looked at you, coiling it up again. “Of course, I’m sorry.”

You laughed again, and he looked away, embarrassed.

You shared the drink and sat on the sofa, asking about being a non-human in the city now, and where he lived, and what he did for a living – he was a painter of all things and had a gallery in the downtown area.

You yawned, discovering it was much later than you’d realised, and a second later, you nodded off, tipping sideways and landing against his soft chest. “Oh,” you gasped, jerking awake again. “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s alright,” he smiled. “You can stay there if you want. I’m nocturnal mostly, but you humans aren’t. You should sleep. You’ve had a long day.”

“I…” you started, but he hugged you close with both his right arms, and started to rake his fingers through your hair with his upper left hand.

His coat was so soft, his chest so warm and fluffy, that you snuck your arm around his slim, ochre torso, and held him tight.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this with a complete stranger,” you murmured.

“Well,” he said, leaning down and you felt something soft brush your face.

You cracked your eyes open a little and found his antennae gently searching out the contours of your face. “Well what?” you asked.

“Well, if you let me see you again, and we talk some more, then maybe I won’t be a complete stranger…”

“I’d like that,” you said as you dozed off, slipping under the barrier between waking and dreaming without another thought.

When you woke, the light of morning crept under your curtains and you blinked yourself awake. The throw that you usually kept over the armchair had been draped over you, and Niall was nowhere to be seen.

You sighed, sitting upright. Despite having slept on the sofa, that was probably the best night’s sleep you’d ever had.

You went through the motions of the morning, showering, brushing teeth, breakfasting, etc. and as you opened the door to go to work, you found a small basket of fresh peaches sitting on the threshold, along with a handmade note card.

On it was a hand-painted peach, and on the inside you read, ‘Thank you for our conversation last night. I would very much like to meet you again. If you’d like that as well, will you meet me tonight again at the peach tree? Yours, Niall.’

The end of the working day couldn’t come around quickly enough, and when you clocked off at 16.59, you raced out of the door and pelted to the corner of the park where you found a familiar, tall creature, dressed in elegant white fur, beaming at you.

“You came!” he cried, wings jittering. “I’m so glad.”

___________________________

#moth #mothman #white ermine moth #moth monster #male monster #sfw monster #sfw #sfw monster story #female reader

1K notes · View notes

scourgewins · 6 years ago

Text

How It All Began...

(Okay, sorry I don’t post nearly as much as the Drawing Entity does. I’ve got four fanfictions I’m working on at the moment, including the Mafia AU one. Bear with me, folks. This particular piece is about how Sammy came to be hired at Joey Drew Studios, and is, again, not related to Mafia. There is a fight scene later on, and a bit of blood, but nothing too gory, in case anyone’s bothered by that.)

Gosh, this place is huge, Henry thought to himself as he exited his car, a pack of art implements slung over his shoulder. The young animator stared up at the massive studio, which he would now be working at, his brown eyes wide with wonder, taking it all in. It all seemed like a dream. Ever since he’d met Joey when they were teenagers, he had always talked about how he would own a cartoon studio one day, one that would become renowned worldwide. Henry wasn’t sure about the latter bit, but the former had come true; he and Joey had started a cartoon company, and today was day one in the long journey ahead.

The door to the studio swung open, and Henry watched as Joey stepped out, grinning as he caught sight of him.

“Well, Henry,” he said, “What do you think?”

“It’s amazing, Joey.” said Henry, feeling a wide smile spread across his face, “How did you afford something this big? Even with the money I donated, we couldn’t have been able to buy this.”

“Oh, I just asked my parents for some cash, to add to the loan. I had to be a bit vague on the details of why I needed it, but it all worked out.”

Henry frowned, “You mean you lied to your parents?”

“Lie is such a strong word…” Joey said, “I merely kept some information from them. Now, are you just going to stand there gawking, or do you want to go inside?”

Excitement at stepping into the studio he’d helped to found drove the doubt from Henry’s mind, and he followed Joey inside.

The place looked a bit worse for wear. There were some loose floorboards that creaked worryingly, seeing as how if they broke one would fall into the downstairs area below. Joey assured Henry he’d get them fixed as soon as the studio was up and running. There were cobwebs everywhere, and as soon as Joey switched on the light, Henry swore he saw a mass of insects crawl away. Henry glanced at his friend skeptically, and Joey responded with a slight shrug, then led the way to a space next to the entrance. In it was a drawing desk, and a chair. It was very simple, but Henry found it one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen, for as Joey gestured to it, he stated, “This is your space.”

Henry gazed in wonder for a second more, then seated himself at the desk. He could just picture himself drawing here. Joey smiled at Henry, then briskly turned away.

“Alright,” he said, “We have to get down to business. We have to hire animators, repairmen, musicians, voice actors, projectionists, everyone we’ll need to get this company up and running.”

“But, Joey,” Henry began, frowning, “We haven’t even moved in yet. Shouldn’t we wait to hire people until we’ve gotten all of our equipment in here?”

“All of that will come in due time, don’t worry.”

Henry’s frown deepened, but he didn’t argue; when it came to business matters, Joey usually knew what to do. “Okay, so what’s our first move?”

Joey smiled, “We call upon an old friend.”

Twenty minutes later, Henry and Joey found themselves in front of a dilapidated apartment building. It was two stories high, and one of the windows in the first story had a sizable hole in it. Again, Henry wondered who it was they were meeting. I hope Joey isn’t about to hire a ruffian. Joey had refused to answer any of Henry’s question during the drive there, seeming to enjoy his suspense. Henry decided he should ask again.

“Joey, would you please tell me who we’re going to see?”

His friend glanced at him for a second, then proceeded to march into the building, “Someone who will make our cartoons one of a kind.”

Henry hurried after him, “That doesn’t fully answer my question…”

Joey swiftly ascended the staircase, with Henry following nervously behind. The inside of the building was as rundown as the outside, and Henry couldn’t help but feel wary. The whole place seemed quite shady. A few people walked past them, giving them suspicious glares, which didn’t help. Henry felt his muscles tense instinctually, ready for action. Joey, for his part, seemed quite relaxed and confident, and as they reached the upper floor, turned swiftly left and halted at the first door they came to, giving it a sharp knock.

At first, no noise was heard, then there was a slight shuffling sort of sound, as if someone were looking for something. Quiet ensued following this, and Henry glanced at Joey, who was waiting patiently for the door to open. Eventually it did, but in a rather unexpected manner.

The door flew open, to reveal a man around Henry and Joey’s age, wearing clothes that probably had not been washed in a while. He had long, tousled blonde hair, and eyes that were strikingly blue, and blazed with hostility. Henry didn’t take in any of these traits at first, though, for his main focus was on the wooden bat the man held in a two-handed grip.

The door had been open barely a second before the man exclaimed, “Listen, pal, I don’t want any trouble, now why don’t you just-” He had raised his bat while he spoke, and Henry found his right fist clenching, and before anyone could do anything, he had landed a solid blow to the shocked man’s jaw. The man reeled backwards, his entire face slack, and fell down in a dead faint onto the floor.

For a moment, Henry and Joey just stood in silence, then Joey gripped Henry by the arm and dragged him into the unconscious man’s room, slamming the door behind them, and locking it for good measure. Turning to Henry, Joey eyed his friend crossly.

“Why the heck did you punch him?”

Henry, in his turn, grew angry, “He was about to hit us with a bat! What was I supposed to do?”

“You were supposed to let me handle it. He wouldn’t have hit us if you’d given him time to recognize me.”

“Well, I’m sorry. Next time I’ll just wait patiently as someone raises a bat, to see if they know you.” Henry replied, sarcastically.

“Thank you!” Joey returned. Henry glared, but decided not to engage any further. Instead, he looked back at the disheveled man, still out cold.

“Help me get him to his bed.” Together, Henry and Joey lifted him up, and plopped him down on the bed, placing a pillow beneath his head. As they did so, Henry took the time to examine the man’s room. There was nothing remarkable about it, except for the large amount of musical instruments strewn about the place. There was a bass in a corner, a banjo resting by the bed, a clarinet on a shelf, and a harmonica lying on a desk littered with sheet music. Henry glanced at Joey.

“So we’re hiring a musician?”

Joey nodded, a smile spreading over his face, “We’ll be one of the first cartoons to include music! And on top of that, we have a master musician to compose it!” Joey gestured to the man on the bed, who was now drooling a little. Henry looked at Joey skeptically.

“Well, I don’t think he’ll want to work for us, now.”

“Baloney!” Joey declared, “Once we’ve explained everything to him all will be forgiven and he’ll be thrilled to take our offer.”

Henry doubted this would all work out as smoothly as Joey hoped, but decided they’d deal with the matter once the man woke up.

“What’s his name, anyway?” he asked.

“Oh, his name’s Sammy, Sammy Lawrence.”

The name didn’t ring any bells, so Henry asked Joey how he knew him. His friend explained how the two of them had met in college, and how impressed he had been with Sammy’s music skills.

“He knows how to play most every instrument you can think of, and could probably learn how to play another like that.” He snapped his fingers. Henry raised his eyebrows, impressed with the man already. If what Joey said was true, then their cartoons would be unique, indeed.

The two of them sat in silence, waiting for Sammy to awaken. Henry settled himself on the edge of the bed, while Joey occupied the only chair in the room. After awhile, they both grew bored, and took to exploring the tiny living space the uncleanly musician resided in. Henry plucked absentmindedly on the bass strings, and even took up the bow and scraped it experimentally on them. The sound was so unpleasing, though, that he stopped. Joey studied Sammy’s music sheets, then proceeded to rifle through a pile of books that had not been touched in quite some time, upsetting a few on to the floor.

“Hey,” said Henry, “leave that alone. It’s rude to go through people’s things.”

“Says the man fiddling with the bass.” Joey replied, continuing what he was doing.

“At least I haven’t disturbed anything.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll put these books back in their messy pile once I’m done browsing.”

Henry turned to face him, “This isn’t a library, Joey. This is where someone lives.”

Joey looked up from scanning a book titled, ‘Lyrics Journal’,“Well, I have to do something to preoccupy myself, since my business partner knocked out the man we came to see.”

“I had good reason for doing so.”

Joey eyed his friend sternly, “We were never in any trouble. Honestly, Henry, how could you ever think that I would willingly put us in danger of anyone?”

“You’ve done it before.” Henry muttered, just loud enough for Joey to hear.

Joey glared, “When?”

“That incident at the bar.”

“I knew we could handle those goons.”

Henry stared hard at his coworker, “Those guys at the park.”

“They needed to be taken down a peg.”

“That guy with the knife!”

Joey paused for a second, nervously gazing at the floor, “Okay, I admit… that one probably should have been avoided.” So saying, he absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder, where Henry knew he had sustained a scar from that fight. He himself had gotten a scar on his right arm, which he, too, unknowingly rubbed, recalling the event.

The two sat in an awkward silence for a couple minutes. Henry was just about to resume strumming the bass strings, when he heard a long, drawn out groan from the bed. Glancing at his friend, Henry hastily moved back to his previous spot on the bed, while Joey retook his seat on the chair.

Sammy Lawrence sat up groggily, rubbing his jaw carefully. His blue eyes lazily roamed over Henry and Joey, then sharpened after a second, and became fully alert as he sat up. Both Henry and Joey just stared at the alarmed musician, until the latter’s face broke into a grin.

“Sammy!” Joey said, in a warm, cordial tone.

Sammy’s gaze darkened, “Joey.” he replied, sounding not at all friendly. His eyes shifted to Henry, and he glared, “Person who knocked me out.”

Henry nervously met Sammy’s gaze, “I thought you were going to attack us.”

“I thought you were someone else,” Sammy explained, still scowling, “but even so, I might still have tried to knock you out, Joey.” Joey met the man’s accusatory stare with an expression of innocence.

“Me? What have I ever done to you?”

“Have you honestly forgotten?”

The blank look on Joey’s face told Henry that he had no idea what Sammy was talking about. The musician sighed, “You picked a fight with somebody, then left me to defend myself, alone.” Here his eyes blazed with a sudden fury, “They smashed my violin!”

Joey’s brow furrowed as he seemed to remember these events, “I think I recall someone getting a little testy with us, but I’m sure I didn’t run out on you.”

“Tell that to the remains of my violin.” Sammy growled.

Joey shrugged, “If it’ll please you.”

Henry was sure Sammy was about to strike Joey, so he hastily stood between them, “Alright, everyone calm down. Nothing will get resolved if we resort to blows.”

“Maybe not.” Sammy said, with a grim smile, “but it’ll sure feel good!” With that, he pounced toward Joey, but was halted as Henry held him back. The furious man struggled against Henry, wriggling this way and that, but the more experienced man held him in a tight grasp. The unsophisticated and non damaging nature of the blows Sammy inflicted on Henry as he fought to get free told the cartoonist he was not used to physical violence. So, Henry easily shoved him back, and Sammy could only glare at them with a cold dislike.

Just as Sammy opened his mouth to speak again, there came a loud knock on the door. Instantly, Sammy’s face grew pale, and whatever words he was about to say died in his throat.

“I’ll get it!” said Joey, obviously wanting to gain Sammy’s favor.

“No! Don’t!” But Sammy’s warning came too late. Joey had unbolted the door, and opened it to admit two big, rough looking men, with an identical leer on their faces. Henry distrusted them instantly, and Sammy’s panicked expression told him his caution was well-founded. Already, his hands were curling into fists.

“Can we help you, gentlemen?” Joey asked, politely. Henry knew his friend well enough to know that his friendly demeanor was just an act, and that he, too, was tensed and ready for a fight.

“You can’t,” said one of the burly men, “but he can.” He pointed at Sammy. The musician’s pale face flushed with red as he glowered at the man.

“I told you, I don’t want any trouble.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten any, if you’d just given us what we asked for.” The other man spoke up.

Sammy’s furious gaze pierced the two men, “I am not giving you any of my instruments!”

“You see,” said the first man, rubbing one of his knuckles in a casual, yet obviously threatening manner, “that’s where the trouble comes in.”

Henry stepped forward, “I recommend you think about your next move. Either walk out of here and leave this man in peace, or stay, and face the consequences for doing so.”

The first man shrugged, “I think we’ll stay, consequences or no, and-”

Henry was anticipating the punch coming his way, and was already dodging to the side, just as the fist hit the air where he’d been. In a flash, Joey had pounced on the other man, and the two instantly became locked in combat. The adversary Henry faced gave an exclamation of anger at having missed his target, and turned to face him. The cartoonist delivered two blows to the other man’s face as he did so, and the man reeled back, but recovered quickly and swung a right hook towards Henry. Henry tried to dodge this one, but Sammy’s apartment was so cramped, that he ended up stumbling into the bed, on which the musician was crouched, fearfully watching the skirmish.

The blow caught Henry right in the jaw, and stars exploded in his vision. But, years of brawls had taught him well, and he rolled with the punch, so it was not as effective as it would have been. The two foes faced off again. Henry realized his enemy was much stronger than he was, and he’d have to fight smart to win. He aimed a punch at the man’s solar plexus, which he blocked with contempt. Beside him, he heard the smack of a blow that had hit home, and the subsequent grunt as someone reacted to it. Henry knew it was Joey who had dealt the blow, so didn’t take his eyes off his enemy. His opponent, however, glanced over at his comrade for a moment, which was all Henry needed to deliver three solid blows to the man’s gut. The man stumbled back into the the desk, gasping, and Henry raised his hand to deliver a palm strike to the man’s face.

“No!” came Sammy’s anguished voice. Henry spun toward him, afraid Joey’s foe had gotten past him and was attacking the helpless musician. But Sammy’s cry was only for his banjo, which Joey had grabbed and was about to use to smack his enemy. Turning away, Henry caught a fist full in the face, and fell with a loud crash to the floorboards. The other man was on him in an instant, raining blows on his head. Henry just had time to throw his arms protectively over his face, but the force of the punches still made his vision blur. There was a small pause in the man’s assault, probably to get his second wind, and Henry took the opportunity to sit up and elbow him straight in the mouth.

The man reflexively lifted a hand to his face, and Henry used the moment to wriggle himself away from the man, kicking him in the stomach as he did so. His opponent gasped, and scowled at Henry, reached for him, then stopped. Henry had no time to react as the man grabbed something nearby, and raised it up. Henry just had time to recognize it as Sammy’s banjo, before it descended towards his face, and he was forced to cover up again, hoping for the best.

But the blow never came. Instead, there came a loud whack sound. Henry allowed himself to cautiously peek up at his adversary, who was swaying where he crouched, his eyes rolling up. Moving out of the way, Henry watched as the man collapsed in the spot where he’d been, unconscious. Above him stood Sammy, with a bat in one hand, and his banjo in the other. He observed his victim for a moment, then dropped the bat and hugged his banjo tight.

“Nobody touches my banjo.” he said, icily.

Henry didn’t know what to do for a moment, then turned as he heard Joey’s laugh of triumph. He had successfully knocked his enemy out, though by the way he clutched his hand, Henry was pretty sure he’d broken something doing it. Looking back at Sammy, Henry watched as the musician plopped down on to his bed, looking a tad bewildered. Henry sat down beside him, breathing hard, absently swiping a hand under his nose as he felt something wet. Looking down, he saw his hand was smeared with red. Apparently he’d gotten a bloody nose in the skirmish. Glancing down at his unconscious foe, Henry saw a tiny trickle of blood under his nose, and that was it. He was certainly a tough fighter, Henry thought, nodding to himself.

Joey came over and sat next to Henry on the bed, still grinning at his victory. Henry was sure that grin would turn to a grimace once his adrenaline lowered and he felt the pain of his broken hand. Sammy continued to clutch his banjo to him, staring at the bodies on the floor.

“I guess we’ll have to call the police.” he said, quietly.

“That’s usually how it goes, yes.” Henry agreed.

“You won’t have to worry about those idiots any more, Sammy.” Joey added.

“No,” said Sammy, suddenly realizing this, “I won’t.”

Joey was silent for a moment, then he looked the musician in the eye and said, as innocently as possible, “Do you think you could return the favor by letting me hire you?”

In a flash, Sammy’s glare was back, “I still haven’t forgotten what you did.”

“Nor did I think you would,” said Joey, “I made a mistake back then, and I am truly sorry.” He looked down at the senseless men on the floor, “Take these unconscious bodies as a sign of my good will.”

Sammy continued to glare, but was silent, and Henry liked to take that as a sign that he was warming up to them.

“I’m sorry, too,” he said, sincerely, “for knocking you out earlier. And I also wanted to thank you for saving me from that man. I’m not sure what might have happened had you not intervened.”

Now Sammy was at a loss for words, and all he did was stare at the two of them for a while. At last, he looked down at the floor, and said, gruffly, “You’re welcome.”

Another silence ensued, until Sammy again spoke up, “What exactly did you want to hire me for?”

Joey grinned, “I’m glad you asked. We’re starting a cartoon company,” he pointed to himself and Henry, “and we need a musician to add music to our cartoons.”

Sammy frowned, “Films have sound, now?”

“Yes!” said Joey, surprised, “You didn’t know that?”

Sammy shrugged, “I don’t watch a lot of movies.”

Henry brought them back on track, “What do you say, Mr. Lawrence? Will you take the job?”

The musician considered it for a moment, then shrugged, “It sounds better than playing the same old music at the club every day.”

Joey looked at him eagerly, “So you’re in?”

Sammy glanced at both Henry and Joey, “I’m in, but only if you buy me a new violin.”

“It’s a deal.” said Joey.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Henry Stein #Joey Drew #Sammy Lawrence #TW Violence #TW Blood #Writing Entity

12 notes · View notes