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blackypanther9 · 1 year

Text

Change – Bendy and the Ink Machine x Male!Reader

WARNING!: Cussing, Self hate - Reader, Mention of abuse and torture, The cartoons suffered, insecurity AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !

Dexter is the Reader.

Dexter W. A. and Henry Stein were trapped in Joey Drew Studios and desperately trying to find a way out. They split and while Dexter was searching an exit somewhere else, Henry and Boris encountered Bendy, the Ink Demon.

“Bendy, please stop ! You don’t know-!”, Boris tried to help Henry, who was held by the neck.

“I know everything that I need ! Stop protecting this traitor, Boris !”, the Ink Demon yelled angered.

“He isn’t-!”

“Bendy, stop acting like something you are not.”, Henry rasped out.

The Ink Demon snapped his attention back to Henry.

“Isn’t this what you all WANTED ?! The evil, bad, murderous Demon ?!”

“Bendy…no one wanted that except for Joey.”

“YOU ALL LEFT US TO ROT WITH OUR CREATOR !”

Henry chuckled weakly.

“Creator, eh ? Joey, didn’t create you, Boris and Alice. That was me. On every picture I drew was my signature. ‘H.S.’. It stood for Henry Stein.”

“He isn’t lying, Bendy. He is our real creator and he was forced to leave us with the rest without any choices. He didn’t even know we are alive until he came back.”, Boris told him gently.

Bendy was shocked, but then growled.

“WHY DID YOU LEAVE THEN ?!”

Accidently Bendy squeezed Henry’s throat a bit tighter, making the man cough and wheeze.

“Bendy ! You’re killing him ! Loosen your grip he can’t talk !”, Boris yelled worried.

He loosened his grip slightly. He needed answers.

“I don’t think you know that when we made Cartoon shows with you all, that in the background a lot of bad things were set in motion… Fights, wars…a lot of things happened. A big fight was coming on and I was forced to leave and join the army. I had no choice to stay. If I would have stayed I would have died and so would have my Family. So…I left. I told Joey everything and he NEVER forgave me for not being able to return… The fight went on for MONTHS and people that survived this…were left badly traumatized. I was considered too dangerous to any workplace. I was very jumpy and always on instant kill without thinking. I wrote Joey that and that was when he broke our connection. I asked him all the time how they all were doing and maybe, if I get better, I could come visit. He never answered until the day I came here. He told me to come visit the old Workshop and here I am.”, Henry explained.

Bendy was in utter shock.

“I didn’t even know that Joey brought you all to LIFE. HOW he managed that will be a mystery to me, but maybe it is better to not know how he did it. I don’t know WHAT Joey did to all of you, but I can see from your reactions that it wasn’t anything good. I am sorry that I couldn’t come earlier and that we meet in this way. I…I am also sorry if I angered you by turning on the Ink Machine. I thought that was what Joey wanted me to see and then I go back home, but I didn’t… Well…we didn’t…”

“WE ?!”, Bendy yelled.

“Yeah…someone else sneaked inside with me. He didn’t trust all this.”

“HENRYYYY !!! HENRY I FOUND AN EXIT THAT ISN’T GUARDED ! LET US GET OUT OF HERE WITH BORIS BEFORE THE INK DEMON RIPS US IN TWO ! DAD WILL BE SO-! Oh shit…”

Henry turned around and there was Dexter. He had a gleam of hope in his eyes until he saw Bendy, he lost all hope and it was replaced with worry.

Henry was shocked as Bendy growled and dashed over to Dexter. He grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the right wall of the Studio’s hallway. Dexter chocked and tried to pry Bendy’s hands off of him.

“YOU LIAR !”

“Bendy set him down !”, Henry yelled.

“AFTER EVERYTHING HE DID TO US ?! NEVER !”

“Bendy this ISN’T JOEY !”, Henry yelled.

“ARE YOU TRYING TO MAKE ME BELIEVE THAT ?! OF COURSE THAT IS JOEY DREW ! YOU FUCKER WILL PAY FOR EVERYTHING YOU DID TO US !”

Dexter stopped struggling and stared at Bendy, then at Henry. Henry and Boris winced. Dexter looked at them with a look of utter betrayal. Then he finally broke down and started crying, hitting on Bendy’s arms with all his might.

“LET ME GO INK DEMON ! LET ME GO ! I WANNA GO HOME AND SEE PAPA !!!”, Dexter sobbed out.

“Bendy put him down. This is not Joey, I promise. I saw Joey and he looks way more different. He grew old.”, Henry told him softly.

Bendy softened his grip, but didn’t let go. He felt torn. Was this Joey or not ? He looked like Joey…So much…

“He looks so much like that traitor though.”, he said.

Henry and Boris flinched. Dexter threw them a betrayed and hurt look.

“YOU FUCKING LIARS !!! YOU SAID I LOOK NOTHING LIKE THAT PIECE OF SHIT ! YOU SAID I LOOKED DIFFERENT ! WHY WERE YOU LYING TO ME ?!”, Dexter screamed.

“Dexter…”, Henry tried to calm him down.

“SHUT UP, HENRY !”, he screeched.

Bendy stared at Dexter in shock. So he knew Joey, hated him and his name was…Dexter. He gently set Dexter down.

Dexter instantly ran up to Henry and punched him in the stomach, making him fall over in pain.

“YOU FUCKING LIAR !”

Bendy rushed to Dexter and held him by the shoulders.

“Calm down.”, Bendy said softly.

He didn’t listen and struggled against Bendy, glaring at Henry and Boris with a lot of anger, hatred and pain.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW IT FEELS TO HAVE THE SAME LOOKS AS SOMEONE WHO DID NOTHING ELSE BUT CAUSE PAIN AND MISERY ?! TO ALWAYS BE MISTAKEN AS HIM AND GET THE TREATMENT THAT YOU DON’T DESERVE, BUT THAT OTHER FUCKER WHO LOOKS JUST LIKE YOU ?! AND WHEN YOU ASK SOMEONE IF YOU TRULY LOOK LIKE THEM THEY SAY NO, JUST SO THEY WON’T DO SURGERIES ON THEMSELVES ?! DO YOU HAVE ANY FUCKING IDEA HOW THAT FEELS, STEIN ?!”

Bendy was stunned into silence.

“You look nothing like him, Dexter.”

“LIAR !”

“He is an old, weak man now. You look nothing like him.”

“DOESN’T MEAN THAT I DON’T LOOK EXACTLY LIKE HIS PAST SELF !”

“Who cares about that ? You are you, Dexter. Not Joey.”

“BUT I LOOK LIKE HIM !!! I DON’T WANT TO LOOK LIKE HIM ! I WANT TO LOOK MORE LIKE ME ! NOT A SPECK OF THAT PIECE OF SHIT ANYWHERE ON ME TO SEE ! MY LOOKS REEK OF JOEY DREW ! I LOOK LIKE THIS DISGUSTING EXCUSE OF A HUMAN !”

Bendy was so stunned that he noticed too late that Dexter tore himself free from his grasp. Bendy never met anyone that was so…insecure and hateful towards how they looked…So desperate to…do whatever surgeries on themselves is….

Henry tried to reach out to the Joey looking man.

“Dexter…”

He stepped away from the three of them and spat at Henry.

“I can’t believe that I trusted your words. All I wanted was an honest answer so I can finally make Papa see that I do NOT have my own looks, but that of a MONSTER ! So he finally helps me to get some Surgeries done on me ! That he finally agrees to let me change into someone I WANT to be ! BUT EVEN YOU WERE LYING TO ME !”

Henry looked away and had a look of shame and guilt on his face, Boris just the same. Dexter turned his back to them and then ran off, screaming with a cracking voice.

“I HATE YOU !”

Then he was gone.

“How did he know Joey ? He never worked here…”, Bendy asked them.

“We can talk about that later, now we have to find him first.”, Boris told Bendy.

Henry nodded.

“In that state he will end up hurt.”

Bendy nodded and then he concentrated closely.

“I found him.”, he said after a while and opened an ink portal.

He looked at Boris and Henry.

“Follow me. It is Human Friendly.”

Then he went through it and Boris and Henry close behind. After they entered they were instantly spat out again in an unfamiliar place. They saw Dexter hunched together in a corner, weeping. Henry swallowed and slowly approached him with Boris, while he told Bendy to stay there and listen. Bendy did as told and the two sandwiched him in the middle while one sat left and the other right.

“Why did you fucking lie to me ? Both of you ?”, Dexter asked sobbing.

Henry sighed.

“I lied because I didn’t want you to feel ashamed of how you look. It doesn’t bother me either, you are still Dexter Will Afton and not Joey Drew…nor are you still Gerald Drew.” (Gerald Drew was his past name.)

“I don’t feel like an Afton when I know that I still look like that piece of trash. My body was always looking wrong…”

“Dexter…you are still fifteen though and not eighteen. Your Body is still developing. Maybe you don’t NEED a surgery.”

“I won’t change and you know it. We share the same face, hair, eyes, skin…EVERYTHING. I want to rip it off of my body ! I don’t want to look anything like him !”

Boris pulled him into a hug, to comfort Dexter. He didn’t say anything, but looked at where Bendy hid.

Bendy was confused. Who is Gerald Drew ?

“I wish Bendy wouldn’t have had to go through whatever Joey did… He…I don’t even know if he remembers his name, or if he wants to be called that at all…”, Dexter said.

“You knew that was Bendy all along ?!”, Henry asked in shock.

Dexter looked at him with emotionless eyes.

“Of course I knew. I knew since he showed his face for the very first time we entered the Studio. The horns were there, the bowtie, the grin, the glove, heck he was just bigger and more….messed up. I wish Joey would have never found a way to make him and the rest of everyone come to life, they would have been better off that way.”, Dexter sneered.

“How are you so sure that Bendy and his condition was only Joey’s fault ? He could have snapped from all the things he was forced to do at once or all the yelling or hurt himself and then lost his cool.”

“Such anger, is always justified, like all the sorrow and agony he voiced.”

“Agony and sorrow ?”

“Bendy doesn’t let it on, but he is in immense pain. In all ways there is. Physically he hurts everywhere, mentally he is messed up and emotionally he tuned almost everything off as best as he could, because he got hurt emotionally too much.”

“This time you can’t say that you saw it in his eyes.”, Boris said now in shock.

He never knew that Bendy suffered that badly. He hid it very well…

“I think it was called…Empaths, but I don’t know for sure. He made skin to skin contact with me, he didn’t use his gloved hand and he probably didn’t notice that he revealed everything to me by just that simple gesture. I felt a lot of pain all over my body, my emotions were almost nonexistent and my mind was in bits and pieces as soon as he touched me. All I could think of was ‘Kill Joey, never forgive, revenge, kill, kill, kill’. And these weren’t MY thoughts. I know what Joey is capable of…sadly…”

Dexter shuddered at the mere thought. Boris and Henry stared at Dexter in utter shock and Boris whined then, like a kicked puppy.

“What did he do ?”

“I am unsure what he did to Bendy if you asked that. If you asked what he did to me….well…he beat me most of the times for no reason, then he ignored me most of the time and neglected me. He made me do housework even though I was still a kid and should have had a childhood. I wasn’t allowed outside, besides grocery shopping or getting his laundry. I messed up or forgot something, basement and he starved me for days. Sometimes he forgot that I was still down there…”

That shocked all three of them and Bendy was getting angry again.

“Then a few days before…he promised he will be a better Dad to me. He treated me like a kid and wasn’t so….cold anymore. I truly thought he changed, but…then he abandoned me. He set me out near and alleyway and told me to wait there until he is back, but after the whole day flew by, I thought he forgot about me. So I walked back in the rain and cold. I knew my way around the city. But after I was back and on the door…he seemed to laugh and there were other sounds coming from there… I knocked and after he opened he looked upset. I told him he forgot about me again, so I came back to spare him the hassle. All he did was hiss at me to leave and never come back, he doesn’t accept me as his Son and he never will…then he slammed the door shut in front of my face and left me there. Cold, alone and wet. Sure I was hurt, but part of me saw that coming, so I went back to the alleyway and lived there, until Papa found me and adopted me. I asked him if he could give me a new name and he did.”

Henry clenched his jaw and fists, Bendy was so close to growling and Boris hugged Dexter tighter while he looked ready to kill someone. Which was rare for the friendly wolf.

“Papa always said that I looked adorable and that I don’t need surgery, but I knew only one thing… My whole body screams Joey Drew looks. I broke Papa’s mirrors all the time as soon as I saw my reflection. I wanted a surgery, but Dad refused, saying I imagine things, so I went to you, who saw and knew Joey most. I trusted your words… I shouldn’t have. I walked the streets sometimes and some people mistook me for that excuse…they tried to kill me, Henry. They hurt me… I just wanted this nightmare to stop…”

“When we get out of here, I will see your Father and try to convince him to let you have your surgery. If it brings you comfort and peace, then I will try…”

Dexter smiled a sad smile and hugged both Boris and Henry.

“Thanks. By the way…the way Bendy looked…it looked like he was experimented on… When you study his body you see bones of a human skeleton poking out. Maybe Joey shoved a corpse inside him or did rituals on Bendy that destroyed him. Also the Boris up there looked different than Alice’s victims… He looked worse… I think that Joey did that and probably made Bendy either find him like that or watch.”

“That sick Bastard…”

“I bet in the lower levels we would find more clues, but I really wanna get out… Papa will literally set the world on fire with Mike when I am not home soon…”

Bendy came out of the shadows. Dexter looked at him.

“Decided to come out, eh ?”

“How did you…?”

“He hears everything. Every rustle of paper, every creak of the floor.”

Bendy nodded and then went to the exit door and broke it down. There were stairs.

“Welp upstairs it is….”, Dexter mumbled.

“What about the others ?”, Henry asked.

“A crazy old man practically writing fanfics about the Ink Demon and himself having Sex and a crazy Angel that would rip anyone apart with billions of other characters that wanna eat your face off ? Hell naw, Henry. Bendy, Boris, you and me can go, the rest can rot here for all I care. At least for now. I will need advice from Dad what to do with them. We can’t set the Studio ablaze, it is too big to set everyone free.”

Henry sighed softly and nodded, then they went up the stairs.

“So Bendy…tell us what the Fucker did, so we can all beat the shit out of him.”, Dexter said.

Bendy was silent for a few seconds, then sighed.

“You assumed a lot right. He did experiments and rituals on all of us, manipulated us, mostly Alice, I found Boris like that, Joey locked me up for a long time, because I was….melting. At some point with all the shit he did I couldn’t control my forms as good as before, so he wrote me off to the others as a ‘First failed attempt’ and they locked me into a vault deep down in the Studio. One day I escaped and tried to make him feel what I felt, but he escaped and left his workers to rot here or sent others back here only to become ink creatures themselves later.”

“Holy shit…”, was all Henry said.

“I will torture that Motherfucker.”, Dexter said with a crazed smile.

“I want to kill him.”, Bendy said darkly.

“Nope you don’t, Bendy. I already have the PERFECT torture for him and it will satisfy all of us. Just need to convince Dad to make it.”

After 20 more minutes they saw another door and Dexter opened it. Bright light hit his face.

“WE ARE OUTSIDE !”, Dexter yelled happily.

He ran outside and then threw himself onto the green grass. He rolled around and then suddenly sprung up.

“DEXTER ?! SON, WHERE ARE YOU ?!”, a male voice yelled.

“BROTHER !!!”, 3 more voices called.

Two were male and one was female.

Dexter smiled and looked at Henry, Bendy and Boris, then he took off running and they followed. Soon they saw 2 men, one boy and one girl.

“PAPA ! MIKE ! LIZ ! EV !!”, Dexter yelled.

They turned around and as soon as they saw him they ran to his direction. Dexter was crying out of joy and soon sprung into his Father’s arms, crying. The others quickly joining in.

“I missed you so much ! I thought I would never get out there !”

“We missed you too.”

“DON’T DO THAT EVER AGAIN, BROTHER ! DADDY WAS WORRIED SICK !”, Elizabeth scolded.

“Sorry, but I wanted to help Mr. Stein. And we even got two of his creations out !”

“Holy shit… Aren’t they…Boris and…Bendy. Damn what happened to Bendy ?”, Chris asked.

“Joey Drew.”, Dexter answered darkly.

Then he parted from the hug and stared at his Papa.

“Dad…can I PLEASE have a surgery and look DIFFERENT ? I look just like Joey.”, Dexter begged for the millionth time.

“Mr. Afton, I would highly recommend to let him do it. He told me what happens to him out there. They mistake him for Joey and then they try killing him. He made too many enemies.”, Henry said.

William sighed and looked at his adoptive Son.

“Fine. BUT you can only do 3 surgeries and your recovery will take long.”

“Dad ?”

“Yes ?”

He leaned closer and whispered something into William’s ear. Bendy heard the question too and they both yelled at the same time.

“NO !”

The rest stared at them confused.

“No, what ?”, Lizzy asked.

“Nothing, kids…”, William sighed.

“Bendy ?”, Henry asked.

“I rather not say.”, Bendy said.

Dexter just looked down saddened and hurt.

“Can you at least make a Springlock suit ? One that can’t be…you know…? It is for Joey.”

“One in the car, wanted to demolish it but we can use that one.”, William said.

Dexter cheered and then ran to a purple car, his siblings close behind.

“Can I have a word with you, Mr. Afton ?”, Bendy asked.

“Sure.”, William said.

“Come on Boris, we go to my car.”

He nodded and followed Henry. After they were gone Bendy looked at William.

“Why would Dexter want that of you ?”, Bendy asked worried.

“….He always wanted that, because he hates them…I had to do that with Mike once…”

“Why…?”

“He was once blind after an accident, so I had to help. The hospitals would have said that there is no chance for him…”

Bendy was silent.

“Let us get to Joey’s house and give him hell, yes ?”

The Demon nodded and then went to were Henry and Boris ran off to. William went to his car.

What did Dexter want of William ?

He wanted William to replace his eyes with new and better ones. He was losing his sight slowly, something William doesn’t know yet.

After they arrives at Drew’s house, William gave 3 hard knocks, while Evan and Dexter climbed inside through windows. Joey opened the front door and looked at him confused then behind him and instantly slammed the door shut again after he saw Henry and Bendy out there.

‘Shit, shit, shit, SHIT !’

William kicked down the door and then they all entered.

“So you sick fuck. Time you get what you fucking deserve, right ?”, William said.

“Wh-wha-?”

Joey bumped against someone and turned around to face Dexter.

“Hello good for nothing asshole.”, Dexter sneered.

“G-Gerald ?”

“It’s DEXTER, Motherfucker ! You have no idea how much I hate this body because of you ! I’ve waited so long for this moment when Karma would come and chew on your ass !”

“We-we can t-talk about this, Son !”

“YOU ARE NO FATHER OF MINE !”, Dexter yelled and slapped Joey.

Joey fell back and looked at him in shock.

“Hello, Monster.”, Bendy sneered.

Joey backed away from Bendy in panic.

“We have a special gift for you, Joey~”, said Henry happily.

“Wha-UGH !”

Michael whacked Joey’s head with a baseball bat and knocked him out.

“Put him in the suit, Lizzy.”, William said.

She listened and Evan and Mike helped, while the rest watched.

Time skip…

Joey awoke soon enough, but felt that something was wrong. Then he felt heavy and he couldn’t move and then his eyes snapped open.

“Finally awake I see~”

“Set them off.”, Dexter told his Dad darkly.

Joey felt suddenly wet and realized it was cold water, not long after he heard clicking and then…he was screaming and in utter agony. They all just watched him with smiles and death glares.

After he died finally the suit disappeared and they let it seem like someone was torturing him, then left. Henry took Boris and Bendy to his home and the Aftons went back to their home.

Though they stayed in contact and after the surgeries on Dexter were successful and healed, they freed the rest of the people in the Studio. Bendy then fought for rights for toons and made a town, called Toon Town. And he was the Boss.

And they all lived happily ever after.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #Ink Demon #Cartoon Bendy #Male!Reader #Joey Drew #Boris the Wolf #Alice Angel #Bendy the Devil Darling #Angst #Happy Ending #Just a fanfic not canon #SLIGHT FNaF crossover at the end #Afton Family to be precise but only at the END

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land-of-brains-and-chocolate · 3 years

Note

Rec list for Eddie and Symby being vaguely to very gay?

I'm sorry for coming to you with my monsterfucker agenda 😔👊 (no I'm not)

i mean, i probably could’ve seen this coming.

venom is dominated by two opposing narratives. let’s call this the “relationship narrative” and the “control narrative”. they’re not perfectly separated, like, you’ll definitely get elements of one in the other, but generally one of them describes what the story, at its core, is using the symbiote for.

now comics are an endless tug-of-war at the best of times, much less the gayest and slimiest of times. there’s a neverending backlash and backbacklash going on between these two takes. what you want is the relationship narrative.

everything very much started out with that take. eddie and the symbiote are two characters who forge an evil alliance because it lets them do what they wanna do (kill spider-man, more or less) and they have the same kinds of neuroses and complexes and syndromes. lots of early comics are also very fun about the merged consciousness, merged identity deal. that’s kind of the textbook relationship stuff.

personally i absolutely think the original stories (venom was created by david michelinie) have romantic undertones, even starting in the villainy days. eddie describes their first meeting as “a shadow moved, caressed me.” he takes the rejection of the symbiote still being “in love with” spider-man really hard. he sobs his eyes out when he thinks it’s dead and promises to avenge it bare-handed. they totally expect to live happily ever after on a deserted island together.

then there’s venom: lethal protector, which is cute on its own, but if you’re reading for slime romance, i very specifically recommend the novelisation. i won’t even spoil it. and then, planet of the symbiotes is the first comic that i would say has outright queer themes, intentional or not.

so all those recs until now are collected in this post.

we're trucking along through the 90s, we explore elements of one take and then the other and sometimes we ignore the symbiote completely, but not too much changes, overall. the next BIG stop in Gay Venom is, of course, the hunger.

miniseries by len kaminski, just venom: the hunger. plenty of people have written their essays on it, but what’s always important to me is that it DID NOT come out of nowhere. as said above, it expanded on themes that were there, it references michelinie venom very explicitly, like you get your SECOND “tenderly touching the green glass tube” scene.

but yes this one is specifically about, like, stigmatisation, otherness, mental illness, meeting all those things with care and empathy and optimism, tentacle sex. again, many essays. a venom comic that can go “look at the twisted deviance of this relationship” and then turn it around into “but how are you looking at it” is good. god how good would it be if they also did that to eddie more. anyway.

a few years later you get the first MAJOR fucking backlash, culminating in the SECOND story titled the hunger. spectacular spider-man: the hunger, from 2003. completely reboots venom and retcons their motivations and backstories, makes very spiteful references to planet of the symbiotes and the hunger, like it is not also called that by sheer coincidence. literally starts out, in a comic that wants to tackle and redefine venom, with the line “the PROBLEM is that you guys are like an old married couple”. so the new status quo is that the symbiote only ever used eddie to be with spider-man, and eddie only ever used the symbiote to not die of cancer.

the “control narrative” that really kicks in here uses the symbiote as, you know, a thing to control, eddie’s demons personified or even a completely foreign force to torment him. if eddie is evil, it’s not because of what he thinks and believes and wants, it’s because he couldn’t control the symbiote and gave in to its inexplicable bloodlust.

this is an unambiguous downgrade in terms of complexity, in my humble opinion, completely fucks up eddie’s responsibility themes, and is also a pretty clearly petty reaction to venom’s absolute oversaturation in the nineties. the bitch was everywhere and most of it wasn’t good. so there was LOTS of “look at this creepy loser” content by writers cringing themselves into self-awareness at the time. the 00s were going to be GRITTY and MATURE.

this of course means that we get to see eddie slit his wrists and bleed to death on panel after selling the symbiote to supervillains as an attempted act of redemption???

wild fucking times! it’s not exactly worth recommending as ~shippy~, but the first real backbacklash to this first round of retcons comes from dan slott, who just kind of ignores it all in new ways to die. drags eddie back to the land of the living and relevant, makes the symbiote refuse to let its new host kill him, telling that host, and reestablishing, that it loves eddie. and then, to keep him living and relevant, slott makes eddie anti-venom.

don’t even worry about it. anti-venom is essentially eddie seeking redemption with symbiote powers, but without the symbiote, except he pretty much acts no fucking different at all, just keeps on being a murderous vigilante with cracked ideas about innocence and guilt. people still act like he’s better now because, in its metatextual ways, the hunger was right.

then fucking uuuuuuhhhhhhh. agent venom. symbiote goes to flash thompson and the us military, and the writer, rick remender, goes really, really, really hard on the control narrative. the symbiote becomes a substance flash is addicted to, gives a voice to his past abuse, it’s dark times all the times.

people very much do like that narrative for flash, like at least from that perspective it was worth it. i don’t like it much for the symbiote. for the symbiote, representing everything fucked up with flash and forcing him to murder kill bite all the time is resolved via the good guy avengers literally lobotomising it so flash can wear it without further resistance or input. imagine doing that to a human person. you’re uncooperative so we’re gonna turn off your higher cognitive functions and wear you like a meat suit. happy ending for everybody! truly we’ve conquered our demons this day.

then! at the same time, there’s a cartoon coming out, it’s called ultimate spider-man. THAT one does the control narrative take with harry osborn, but then does the relationship take with flash, making it the only cartoon to outright redeem the symbiote and let it find friendship and be valued as a person.

and people loved it! so brian michael bendis gets it in his head that he’s going to redeem the symbiote and make it partner up with flash. and he does redeem it by the highly fucking questionable means of having it be “cleansed”, aka brainwashed and relieved of its memories and personality. not that it matters for long. nothing fucking matters in comics. take this with you if it’s the only thing.

so then for fun friendship times you get venom: space knight, flash and the symbiote’s adventures in space! and then that gets cancelled. eddie is off somewhere being toxin and hunting carnage (2016). many good comics but you did not ask for them.

and THEN.

it is time for the next MOTHER of backlashes.

flash gets literally discarded at fucking roadside to put the symbiote back on eddie and turn back time on their relationship to RIGHT before the FIRST backlash happened. you know, all those 2003 retcons. gone. ignored. no more. venom’s themes are now those circa 1996 again. full fucking on relationship narrative. ROMANTIC relationship narrative, and that after the symbiote was turned into eddie’s evil shadow, after he hated it and spent a LONG time seeking to eradicate all symbiotes (and not even for the first time).

the COSTA run. venom (2016). reviled and beloved.

like this comic is fucking ANGRY about symbiote treatment. i HAD to tell you all of that so you’d understand ANYTHING it’s doing. the first thing it does is flip it completely around, puts the symbiote on a military guy who’s making IT do bad things, makes his ability to control it horrifying and abusive instead of heroic and admirable. one of the later things it does (in the follow-up venom: first host) is outright feature a villain who lobotomises symbiotes, ending on a symbiote serving him swift and sweet payback by doing the same thing TO HIM. it’s exactly as unsubtle as the hunger (2003) was about its hang-ups.

comics... are a conversation.

flash remains a symbiote friend but still got fucked over big time by it all, symbiote-focused writers slott and costa also kind of use him to literally, in case anybody hadn’t caught on, literally spell out the REAL story that’s been going on in the writer's room for the past THIRTY YEARS:

you’ll notice i didn’t actually list any of the Gay Shit for you, you’ve probably already seen it or you’ll get to see it for yourself. yes, they are deeply in love, yes, it’s fucked up and flawed, yes, it is real and taken seriously and has ultimately redeeming potential. yes the concept of that nearly knocked me off my feet and in front of the subway at one point. yes there’s mpreg

it’s also fucking riddled with events, which spin off into other comics, so either ignore those and rely on the recaps OR click yourself forward through the “next issue (story)” button on marvel wikia to know what to read.

and after that must of course come the backbackbacklash, as certain as death or taxes. in the next run, we retcon everything once more, eddie just needs to control his darkness, the symbiote was an evil abuser all along, nothing on earth is ever new.

i’m not gonna go through it, i’m just gonna point you to the backbackbackbacklash issue that came out during this time: venom annual volume 2 number 1 - it’s confusingly named, it’s the one that has a blue-skinned space lady on it. this one ignores the backbackbacklash going on very pointedly and goes “it’s not ABOUT control” again, it’s pretty explicitly romantic.

and then there’s also marvel comics presents (2019) #5, which, oddly enough, does not particularly feature the characterisation you’d typically see in the relationship narrative? but it does feature eddie and the symbiote literally fucking, so you’d want to know about it.

that’s the overall, like, frame of eddie and the symbiote being in a relationship (nuh uh) (yeah they are) (NUH UH) (YEAH THEY ARE)

some stuff that’s smaller but still notable, uh.

nova (1999) 6 - 7, that’s the “we’re space married”

venom: dark origin, that’s an ALTERNATE (!!!) take on the character, don’t expect a likeable eddie but it’s very darkly funny and gay so what can i say.

venom: the end, which i would absolutely fucking hate to be canon, i think its characterisation is quite regressive, but the symbiote sure is in love, i guess.

venom: separation anxiety, the dawn of the control narrative but eddie’s characterisation did not have to go so wrong from here, like if they’d just figured out AT THIS STAGE that he's STILL acting like venom without it... i digress. it has the symbiote going eddie eddie eddieee

venom: sinner takes all, this is the first she-venom comic so that’s. hm. interesting. healing symbiote blanket

don’t read venom: license to kill just look at this panel with me

if i think of more comics worth adding i’ll add them.

the subtext slash text is heavy enough to be present to some degree in literally every cartoon adaptation of eddie brock. spider-man: the animated series goes FULL control narrative, in fact it started the “the symbiote corrupted peter” take that we to this day cannot escape, but the first few venom episodes are VERY playful about their relationship.

in spectacular spider-man it’s canon, but horrible. eddie’s in love with it, but eddie's a good boy and the symbiote is played very, very, very abusively. i think this is an evil symbiote adaptation that works well enough, at least it’s an actual meaningful character instead of just a malevolent force to resist.

in marvel’s spider-man, the only venom episode worth watching is venom returns.

i’ve actually got every symbiote-relevant episode listed right here from when we did our communal watch-through.

also watch truth in journalism. idk if it’s exactly shippy just do it

#venom #symbrock #tl;dr i wish i could tl;dr this #no off-site links to please the gods of tagging

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thewnchstrs · 3 years

Text

Scarred

Pairing: DeanXReader

Disclaimers: blood, serious injury, graphic description of injury, angst, near-death, mentions of surgery, hospitals, descriptions of scars, fluff, fluffy smut

Word Count: 3.4K

M A S T E R L I S T

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There wasn’t much time to think, ducking behind the low brush as I sank close to the ground. It was chasing me, making a game out of hunting me down. I knew it was screwing with me because If it wanted me dead, it could’ve done so nearly half an hour ago when it spotted me the first time.

I panted, clasping a hand over my mouth trying to keep quiet. I could feel every cut and bruise up and down my arms and legs. The makeshift Molotov cocktails that were once in my hands were now scattered, broken on the forest floor. I silently kicked myself for losing Sam and Dean, for not paying attention when I should’ve been.

The wendigo’s roar pulled me from my pity party, slamming me back into reality. I was running out of options, but I knew there was one last thing I could try, even if it might get me killed. I couldn’t kill it. I couldn’t outrun it. But maybe I could stay hidden long enough for Sam and Dean to find me.

I shoved the gun into the back of my jeans, watching as the wendigo quickly disappeared from one area of the forest to another so fast I hardly had time to keep up with it. My heart pounded, my palms sweating when it was no longer in my line of sight.

An unearthly screech from behind me was what signaled that I’d been found. I didn’t dare look back as I shot up from behind the bushes and began sprinting away from it.

My boots pounded into the wet ground, giving slightly under my weight. I pumped my arms, my breath coming out in short bursts as I listened for the distinct sound of the wendigo close behind me. My entire body begged me to stop. Every muscle, joint, and tendon pleading to take a break, but adrenaline coursed through my veins, propelling me even further forward.

It felt like I’d been running for an eternity, the entire time praying that I’d run into either Sam or Dean, but now it seemed like I’d run so far I’d never find them all the way out here. My toe struck a short root sticking from the ground, throwing me off balance. I stumbled slightly before regaining my footing but it was just enough for the wendigo to gain traction on me.

I felt the white hot pain as the wendigo sunk its claws into my side, grabbing at my left hip before sliding down all the way to my knee, blood instantly pouring out of the wound. I crumpled to the ground, screaming in pain as I scrambled away but the wendigo reached for me again, this time clawing from the middle of my left side at my waist and down to my hip, taking a large chunk from it.

“Dean!” I screamed, the only name in my head that seemed to click. I screamed his name over and over, even though I knew I was likely to far away from either of them. “Dean!”

I tried crawling faster, digging my hands into the earth, dirt clinging under my fingernails as I tried to go as far as I could, but my vision was already starting to turn black around the edges.

The wendigo’s presence behind me was unmistakable, his heavy footfalls coming from behind me. I pulled myself forward another few inches, as if it would do anything to keep this thing from tearing me apart. I glanced over my shoulder at it, the way it towered over me. Its one hand was coated in my blood and flesh, pieces of me dangling from his fingernails.

I felt my heartbeat slow down slightly, trying to kick myself across the ground now, using my good foot to propel myself forward to no avail. I tried screaming again, tried calling for Dean, but even that would take too much effort. I was dying. There was no doubt about that.

I gripped the ground ahead of me, chunks of wet dirt smooshing between my fingers, giving me absolutely no leverage to get any farther. I paused for a second, hearing the wendigo’s breathing come closer. I closed my eyes momentarily, trying to find the strength to keep going.

The hot orange and red glow of fire engulfing the wendigo was what made me turn weakly, watching it go up in flames over my shoulder. Just the sight was enough for me to fall to my side on the earth in relief, the wet grass cooling my hot cheeks. My breath came out in front of me in a harsh cloud against the cold air.

Two sets of footsteps ran toward me. They were yelling, but I could hardly tell what they were saying. Dean appeared over me first. Dean. I raised my hand up, gently holding his face in my hand, a mixture of mud and blood appearing over his stubble. Sam came next, his eyes wide as he examined my shredded side but I didn’t dare take my eyes away from Dean’s. I smiled softly.

“Sam...her out of here...” Dean said frantically, but his words came in and out. I lolled my head to the side, noticing the pool of blood in the grass that was forming under me.

“That’s a lot of blood, Dean,” I whispered, my words slurring together.

“You’re gonna...alright, okay? You’ll...just fine,” he said hurriedly as he shed his jacket, pressing it tightly against the wound. I let out a guttural scream, tilting my head so I was screaming into my arm. “...sorry...Sam’s calling...on their way.”

I could feel my heart pounding in my ears, dark spots dancing in my vision. I gripped Dean’s arm with everything I had, even though I knew it probably didn’t feel like much.

“I was so scared, Dean,” I whispered to him, but he was so frantic trying to stop the bleeding he didn’t hear me. “You saved me.” He pressed the jacket tightly over my side again, but it didn’t hurt as bad this time.

He said something else, smoothing my hair away from my face. I was able to hold my eyes open just long enough to see Sam come into view, taking over where Dean had been.

“Stay...me, okay?” Dean’s voice filtered through. “...eyes open...okay?...do that? Can you...for me?”

I nodded slowly, hearing the distant sounds of sirens wailing, bright lights filling the edge of the forest. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed between then and when a medic stood over me, shining a flashlight into my eyes. All I knew is that I must’ve dozed off because Sam and Dean were no longer at my side but standing above me. Two other medics came into my view, frantically talking between each other.

They were saying something about blood loss, something about severe damage. I couldn’t process it, my eyes becoming heavier.

“...focus...me okay?” Dean’s voice came again. I could only move my eyes now, slowly dragging them over to him. “Focus...my voice...ignore...medics, you’re fine...safe...stay with...focus on me.”

I tried, God, I tried to focus on Dean. But when the medics lifted me up onto the gurney, my vision blacked.

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

My eyes felt glued shut as I tried to pry them open, instantly regretting it once a sliver of light passed through my eyelids. I shut them again, groaning slightly. Then, I heard a shuffle, the sound of a chair being dragged over linoleum floors.

A hand slid into mine, fingers slotting perfectly against it. I tested my strength, giving an experimental squeeze that only resulted in the ever-slightest twitch of my fingers.

A quiet breath of relief was pushed out of the person next to me, the presence I’d know from anywhere. Dean squeezed lightly back, “Take your time, Y/N.”

It felt like years before I was able to fully open my eyes. I blinked against the dimmed overhead lights, even that was too much. Instead, I turned over to where Dean was sitting on the side of my bed, smiling softly.

“Hi Dean,” I whispered, trying out my voice. I winced at the way it sounded, so gravely and rough. Dean instantly reached for the water next to him, holding it so I could drink through the bendy straw.

I let my head fall back against the soft pillows, letting the water soothe my throat. For the first time, I noticed the tightness of my left side. I rested a hand over it, feeling the wrapping that covered my midsection and extended all the way down to my knee.

The events of that night slowly came back to me in short waves, and then all at once. I remembered every ounce of pain, remembered feeling the blood as it pooled out of me.

Dean seemed to sense my recognition, squeezing my hand tighter, “You’re okay. Helluva lot of stitches, but...” He paused, his façade faltering as he shook his head, averting his gaze. “You scared the hell out of me, Y/N.”

I watched him, tears filling his eyes. I knew he hated when I saw him like this, so torn up. I held back my own tears, “How many?”

Dean looked at me now, confused, “What?”

“How many stitches?” I asked. “Enough to make me look like Frankenstein?”

Dean let out a short laugh, bringing his hand over his mouth as he nodded, “Yeah...a hot Frankenstein.”

I smiled, “It’ll be a badass scar though, right?”

He nodded again, his eyes searching my face as if if he didn’t, he’d forget what I looked like. We silently watched each other, neither of us having to say a word. We knew the kinds of dangers this life dragged us through. We knew the stakes with every hunt, every monster we took on, even if we’ve faced them countless times.

However, that realization, the reality that slammed into us whenever one of us was hurt, inches from death, was a lesson that never really stuck very well with any of us. We knew it was bound to happen, but when it actually did, it flipped our lives on their heads.

Dean leaned forward, kissing me softly the way he had millions of times before, but this felt different. Desperate and relieved and terrified all in one. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes, just feeling him there. We were together again, and for now, we were okay.

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

I eyed the scar in the mirror, twisting every which way in an attempt to view it from every angle. My fingers danced over the still upturned skin, and even though the stitches had been taken out weeks ago, I could still see where they’d been punctured through my skin.

My eyes traveled from the bottom where the scar ended right above my left knee, following the jagged line up until it disappeared behind the material of my shorts before reappearing above the waistband and up toward the middle of my side.

Multiple tendons and ligaments had to be repaired, making for one nasty scar. Actually, nasty wasn’t a word to describe the monstrosity. It was hideous. It wasn’t clean and badass looking like I remember asking Dean. It was jagged, rugged, thicker in some spots and narrower in the rest. The skin was raised as if there was something hidden just beneath the surface.

To top it all off, I could hardly walk in a straight line. I depended on the crutch that I now had resting on the wall in front of me. I scoffed, shaking my head. A hunter who can’t even walk.

I was pulling my shirt back down when the bedroom door creaked open slightly. I glanced through the mirror where Dean poked his head in, smirking, “Whatcha doin’?”

I glanced back down at the scar, “Checking out the new addition.” Dean came deeper into the room, standing behind me, his arms wrapped around my shoulders, his head next to mine as we looked into the mirror together. “It’s gross, Dean.”

Dena furrowed his brow, “What?”

I huffed, sliding from between his arms before sitting carefully on the end of the bed. It’d taken days for me to even be able to sit up, even that was a chore now. He sat down next to me, the bed dipping under his weight.

“Never mind, it’s stupid,” I mumbled, shaking my head.

Dean scooted closer, “Hey, what’s going on? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

I knew that. Of course I did. I looked over to Dean, his eyes full of concern as he watched me. I clenched my jaw, looking down at the relentless scar.

Dean followed my line of sight, his face falling before his eyes came back up to mine, “Is it about this?” I bit my inner cheek, nodding slowly. “Y/N...you know what happened wasn’t your fault, right? You didn’t see it coming, it’s okay.”

I shook my head, lacing my fingers through his, “It’s not about that, Dean, it’s...it’s the scar.”

He blinked twice, confused, “The scar?”

“It’s...it’s ugly, Dean,” I said, starting to feel silly about how much it was affecting me. “Every time I look in the mirror it’s all I see.”

“Hey, hey,” he said, using his fingers to tilt my chin up until I was looking him in the eyes. His eyes. The ones that made me melt the first time I saw him and the ones that always looked at me with so much love. They didn’t look any different now. “You really think that?”

I nodded, “It’s true.”

“It’s not true,” he said instantly.

“I just...I thought that when you saw it, you wouldn’t...” I hesitated. “It’s just, you always talk about how beautiful I am, but, now I don’t feel beautiful anymore. I was scared you wouldn’t think I was.”

His face contorted into confusion as he lightly held my arms, “Y/N...you can’t be serious. Baby, you’re beautiful. A scar ain’t gonna change that.”

I looked down at his hands, noticing now the tiny scars crossing in lines over his arms and hands and the litany of them that I knew decorated the rest of his body. I loved his, why couldn’t I love my own?

“Hey,” he said, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes momentarily before opening them again. “Forget about the scar, alright? I love you, no matter what.”

I nodded slowly, my eyes darting down to his lips. I leaned forward, my hands coming to rest on his jaw. He leaned into it, resting his hand on my lower back, bringing me closer to him.

His movements were slow as he began kissing down my jaw, moving the hair away from my shoulder. I let out a deep breath, feeling his lips travel down my skin. Between surgery and the healing process coupled with the insecurity of being naked around anyone other than myself, it’s been months since we’ve done anything.

He looked back up at me, his eyes darting down to my lips as he leaned in again, the kiss deeper this time. I moaned against him, tugging at his shirt, snaking my hands under the material and pulling it over his head.

Dean pulled away from the kiss momentarily, his pupils blown wide, “Lay down.”

He slowly guided me to lay against the pillows, careful of the still-healing wound as he situated my leg comfortably on the bed, “Is that okay?”

I hummed in approval and he smiled, pulling my shirt over my head and throwing it behind him. I ran my hands over his stubbled jaw, “Missed this.”

“Me too, baby,” he said as he lowered himself down my body, keeping eye contact with me the whole way down. I watched in confusion when he stopped at my sternum, his eyes now dancing over the scar on my left side. I instantly felt embarrassed, like I wanted to crawl into myself. However, Dean laid a soft kiss to the top of the scar. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”

I swallowed roughly, my anxiety peaking as he continued to kiss down the long scar before gently pulling the material of my shorts away, revealing the worst of it. It was the huge gash taken out of my hip he was staring down at now. But instead of turning away like I thought he would, he peppered it with kisses, too.

“You’ve never looked so beautiful,” he hummed, continuing all the way down to where the scar ended just above my knee before turning, his head shifting until he was kissing up my inner thighs. I held my breath as he made it closer to my folds, pushing my underwear aside. Dean smirked up at me before slowly pulling the underwear down and away. He leaned forward again, flattening his tongue against my entrance. I gasped, my hand immediately going to his hair.

“Dean,” I breathed out, shoving my head farther back into the pillows, raising my hips to meet his mouth but he slung his arms over them, keeping me still.

He hummed as he took my clit between his lips, sucking gently. The vibrations made my body tense, my breath coming out in harsh pants. Dean’s hands ran softly up my sides, holding my waist, “Relax, baby.” I took a deep breath, letting my shoulders fall and my muscles loosen.

“Good girl,” he praised, his tongue darting in and out of me slowly.

“Dean...Dean, please. Need you inside me, Dean,” I panted, knowing I wouldn’t last much longer like this.

“What’s the rush?” He asked, smirking against my thighs. His hands were wrapped around them now, pulling them gently apart. “Wanna make you feel good. Show you how beautiful you are. Wanna feel you come like this first. Come for me, baby.”

It was all I needed as Dean returned his lips to my clit. My orgasm washed over me, filling every inch of my body. Dean rode me through it, licking up every last bit of what I had to offer him.

I fell back against the bed after the high had passed, smiling lazily at Dean who slowly made his way back up toward me, his hands on either side of my head. He dipped down, kissing me gently. I could taste myself on him, mixed with the taste of him. His dick pressed against my thigh through his sweatpants. I gripped his upper arms before bringing my hand between us, palming his cock through the material of his pants.

He groaned, burying his head in my neck before kissing me again. Dean pulled away from the kiss, his green eyes so bright in the dimly lit room, “You ready?” He whispered.

I nodded quickly and he slid his pants and boxers off, his hard cock hanging heavy between his legs. I breathed picked up speed, running my hands up his face as he slowly began to enter me, inch by inch. I let my mouth fall open, Dean’s lips going to my neck until he was fully inside. His movements were slow as he thrusted, his breath ghosting over my skin before coming back up to my lips.

Our breath from our panting mixed with each other, our foreheads touching but our lips just inches from each other. It wasn’t often that the sex was like this, slow and meticulous.

It wasn’t long before my second orgasm began to build. My nails scratched up and down Dean’s back, letting out soft moans as he began to pick up the speed slightly.

“I’m close, Dean,” I moaned, choking on his name as he rolled his hips.

“Yeah, c’mon, baby. Come for me again,” he said as he kissed down the side of my neck again.

My entire body tensed around him as my orgasm washed over me. My body shook as I clutched Dean’s arms. Dean leaned forward, lightly biting the skin on my shoulder, stifling his moans as his hips stuttered. I felt him twitch before he came, exploding inside me.

We panted, not moving from our position for several seconds until Dean carefully slid out. I groaned at the loss of fullness, scooting over to the edge of the bed so Dean could lay down next to me.

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, pulling me close to his chest. I listened to his stuttering heartbeat, fluttering against my cheek. I glanced up at him where he was already looking down at me. I pressed my lips to his one more time.

“I love you, Dean.”

“Love you, too.”

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Forever Tag List

Dean Tag List

@mccartneywinchester | @resanoona | @blackglitteroldsoul

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hello-im-not-a-possum · 3 years

Text

13. Trust

It’s not fun to be put into a situation where the only person you can count on is the person who wants to kill you, nor is it fun to have to be put in a situation where you have to trust the person that you really want to kill, but Henry and Malice don’t really get a choice in the matter. (Set in an AU Where Allison and Tom capture both Henry and Malice alive.)

When Malice came charging at Henry, she was stopped by being tackled into unconsciousness by an almost identical angel.

His assumed savior hoisted her body up with ease, while the Boris with the mechanical arm had glared at both of them.

Henry tried to explain the situation to the newcomers, but the angry looking wolf simply ignored him as he walked up to the man and whacked him out with the pipe.

Both the angel and the Animator woke up in a cramped, tiny, makeshift prison while one of their kidnappers was singing and painting on the wall.

It was very tense and awkward when that happened.

Malice was clearly pissed off about sharing her cell with Henry (the man had similar opinions on the arrangement as he was rightfully upset about what she did to his Buddy Boris), but the animator could tell that she also seemed scared, outright terrified, of their captor.

While he wasn’t her biggest cheerleader, he did see some flickers of Susie still in there, there were still glimpses of a woman who poured her heart and soul into her role, and loved every minute of it until her betrayal broke her. Seeing the fallen angel so scared, and dare he say, helpless in this instance, reminded him of that tape in the Angel side room.

“Everything feels like it’s coming apart…”

His own heart broke when he first heard that tape, while he had never seen Susie get her role as Alice, he did see her voice some of those talking chairs, dancing chickens, and other minor roles. She always seemed to have fun with them and if Sammy didn’t pick her for Alice first, then he would’ve asked her himself.

The animator reached out, then hesitated, wondering if it was better to try to comfort her or to give her space.

The one who broke the silence between the three was the free angel who noticed that Henry was up when he moved.

“I know her, but who are you? Why are you here?”

“I was invited by an old friend, and now I can’t leave.”

Malice rolled her eye and muttered something under her breath.

“Then you know more than we do. One minute we don’t even exist… just… thoughts. And the next minute, this place.”

“Henry.” Malice whispered in his ear as she grabbed his hand. “I know I’m the last person you’d listen to, but don’t fall for her act! I know her, and I know she’s no better than Joey...”

Henry nodded in acknowledgement and turned back to the captor angel.

“Are you gonna let us out of here?”

“She’s dangerous and down here, strangers aren’t good things. How can we trust you?”

“If we’re so dangerous, then why lock us up instead of killing us when you had the chance to?” Malice spoke through gritted teeth. “Why bother with the cage at all?”

The other angel stayed silent as she did not have an answer, leaving the other two in silence as well.

-----

It’s only for a few hours. No need to worry, I won’t go far… Only up to level six. Just stay here. Keep an eye on them, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

The Boris menacingly slapped the axe against his palm while watching over the pair, Malice refused to look him in the eye as he did so.

-----

“You’re drawing him again?” His cellmate asked curiously.

“Yeah, it’s just… I miss him. He was one of the only good things about this studio.”

While he was focused on his work, he did notice the twinge of guilt cross her features before her face fell into thought.

“...If it makes you feel any better, he’s not truly gone. The ink probably spat him back out a while ago and he’s probably wandering the studio looking for you.”

Henry raised an eyebrow.

“What makes you think that?”

“He disintegrated when you defeated him. Have you ever noticed that when you die, you come up somewhere else and you don’t find a corpse of yourself laying around the spot you were killed?”

“Come to think of it… I have noticed that.”

“When the Ink’s done with people, it leaves their bodies alone. When it’s not done with them, then if they die, it disintegrates their bodies and spits them out of the puddles somewhere else.”

“I have a feeling you know this from a lot of experience…”

“How very observant of you.” She deadpanned.

“Thanks, it’s a strong suit of mine.” He also deadpanned.

-----

“Henry? Susie?”

Malice shot the ‘clueless’ angel a glare as she set two bowls of bacon soup on the edge.

“Here, you two must be hungry.” She sheepishly looked down at the bowls. “Sorry, it’s all we have.”

The free angel turned and walked away while the Boris put his arms around the bowls, turned to glare at them, knocked the bowls onto the floor, and made a threatening gesture before leaving himself.

“They never planned on giving us the soup anyway.” Malice whispered to Henry. “It’s just their ‘good cop bad cop’ routine; “miss goody-two shoes” is the good cop who generously gives us dangerous monsters some of her and her guard dog’s limited portions of endless soup, while the “Mean wolf” is the bad cop who knocks over the soup and threatens us, out of her sight, but not out of her earshot.”

“Huh, ...Did they lock you up before?”

“No, I just know what they’re like; the happy little Bonnie and Clyde couple…”

------

“I know you’re watching me, it’s just... a little creepy.”

“It’s not like we have anything else to do.” Malice muttered under her breath.

The animator would’ve stayed silent, but as he watched his vocal captor write on the walls, he noticed how similar her own handwriting was to the messages on the other walls.

“You’re the one who writes on the walls!”

“Everyone does that.”

“-We all do.” The captor angel interjected as if she did not hear her prisoner. “For some poor souls down here, it’s the only way they can be heard. But you don’t want to touch the ink for too long! It can claim you… ...pull you back. That’s how I met Tom. I was messing with things I shouldn’t have been and he... ...he was there.”

“Why do you call him ‘Tom’?”

“He just seems to respond to it.”

“Well I don’t think he’s very fond of either of us.”

“Let me show you something...” She approached the cage. “A while back, I was mapping out one of the upper levels… ...when I noticed something reflecting off a piece of glass. I held up the glass, looked through, and on the wall behind me was a hidden message! Right there! In plain sight! So I kept looking, and found more and more messages everywhere in the studio! But you can’t see them with your eyes. Only through this! Take a look!”

Malice scoffed dismissively as the freed angel handed Henry the seeing eye tool.

‘SHE WILL LEAVE YOU FOR DEAD.’

“I don’t know who’s leaving them, but I think they know how to get out of here.”

“Where does it all lead to?”

“Nowhere.” she sighed. “I followed them for a long time... just leads me in circles. I don’t think I’m meant to leave this place Henry, but maybe… you are.”

“And yet, you keep him locked up like a little bird…” Malice muttered.

“Alice, please let us out of here.”

“...Tom thinks you’re both dangerous.”

“Of course.”

“And what do you think?”

“I… I think… ...you’re the hope I’ve been waiting for. Go to sleep, maybe tomorrow will be better.”

-----

“I Hope you’re not taking everything she says at face value.”

“She seems harmless enough...”

“That’s what she’s trying to do- Look, I know you don’t trust me, and I can’t say I blame you for that. I don’t expect you, or WANT you to trust me. But Listen to me when I say this: I ended up as what you see me as BECAUSE I trusted her. Don’t make the same mistake I did, Henry, if you really want to get involved with her and make it out unscathed, then keep your guard up.”

Henry gestured for Malice to come closer and held the seeing glass up to show her the ‘SHE WILL LEAVE YOU FOR DEAD’ message.

“...Did you write this?”

“Yes Henry.” She sarcastically droned. “While I was working to achieve my perfection and setting up Bendy land’s obstacles, I went down to the secret lair of my worst enemy aside from the Ink Demon, both risking my life in the process and putting my goals into jeopardy, and wrote that message in invisible ink, just on the off chance that if she’d capture both of us alive instead of killing me.”

“I see.”

-----

“That was really stupid Tom! You shouldn’t have gone out there! Now that he’s seen you... it’s only a matter of time…” She grunted through adjusting his arm. “before he finds us here.”

She then waved at her captives, something that Tom noticed and began threateningly slapping the axe against his hand again.

-----

“We can’t just leave them! Not with the Ink Demon right outside the door!”

“What’s going on?”

“He’s coming. We have to move on.” A loud rumble echoed above them as Malice curled up in a corner praying for her safety. “Tom! We have to let them out!”

She pulled on the boards, Tom shook his head.

“...I’m Sorry.”

“No you’re NOT! DON’T LIE TO ME!” Malice Snapped. “YOU HAVE A SWORD! HE HAS AN AXE! IF YOU REALLY CARE ABOUT EITHER OF US EVEN THE TINIEST BIT, YOU’D CUT THE SHIT AND CUT DOWN THE BOARDS!”

Alice hesitated, but ran anyway, with Tom close behind her. Leaving them to their doom.

Malice fell to the ground and started to cry, she was shaking violently and saying things that Henry couldn’t make out because she was bawling so hard, but he could definitely make out the words ‘Ink Demon’ and ‘We’re going to die’ here and there.

“Alice?” He put his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “Alice, we’re not going to die here.”

“How…” She sniffled. “How do you know that?”

“Well, I think you’re going to have to trust me on this, but...” He held up the seeing eye tool, showing her the messages in their cell itself. “I think whoever’s leaving these is trying to help.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #Henry Stein #susie campbell #Malice Angel #allison pendle #Thomas Conner #fanfic #ink demonth

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witcherslittledove · 3 years

Text

Home is Where the Heart Is

A Joey/Henry lockdown fic - AO3

Rated: T

Words: 7k ish

CW: RPF, covid, far too much pining?

_______

“I’m sorry, Joey,” Madeleine sighed again, pressing her head into the crook of Joey’s neck, her hair tickling his cheek.

It was pulled back into a messy bun, flyaway strands surrounding her face in a halo, and as the sun shone from behind her, she looked like some kind of angel. Joey wondered, not for the first time, how he’d even been so lucky to have Madeleine as a friend. She truly was a wonder, his favourite person and light of his life. Everyone should have a friend like Madeleine Hyland.

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple as he pulled back from her embrace. “Nah, it’s alright, Madeleine. Your parents need you, much more important than little old me.”

“Oh fuck that, you bastard, stop fishing for compliments,” she laughed, swatting him on the arm.

“Aww,” he pouted, “Oi!”

She’d hit his arm again, barely a tap but he pretended it hurt, rubbing his arm and pouting even harder at his friend.

“Come off it, Joey. You’re staying with Henry for the rest of lockdown, that’s hardly a trial,” she teased, poking him in the chest.

Ah yes.

Henry.

The bane of Joey’s existence, mostly because of the fucking ginormous crush he had on his co-star. He hadn’t known Henry had been signed on for Geralt until his audition, really he hadn’t known much at all, just that he’d be auditioning for a bard and that he should probably take his lute to the audition. A spur of the moment decision that had turned his life upside down. He’d gone from a nobody to... well, not exactly famous but people had started to recognise him, much to his despair.

And then there was Henry.

He’d been admiring Henry from a distance for a few years now, watching him in the Tudors had sort of been Joey’s bisexual awakening, and then he’d suddenly been thrust into the most bizarre experience of having to work fairly closely with the man.

Joey would never forget the feeling of Henry throwing him over his shoulder as if he wasn’t almost the same size as Henry.

Fuck, that had been hot.

And now, Joey had to cohabit with said crush for an indeterminate amount of time, preferably without making a fool of himself.

He was doomed.

Of course, he could have said no when Henry had offered his place when Joey was grumbling about being alone during lockdown after Madeleine's parents got sick, but no… Henry had stared at him with such shining hope in his eyes that Joey never stood a chance.

Joey just needed to keep reminding himself that Henry was straight. He was practically the poster boy for heteronormative; classically gorgeous, action star, gymrat, lover of sports and building fucking computers.

Okay, maybe Joey was generalising a tad, but it was a form of self-defence.

Christ, the mere thought that Henry could be interested in men… interested in him.

It was too much.

So here he was, saying goodbye to his best friend whilst waiting for his biggest crush to pick him up. Madeleine bundled into her car with the last of her bags, and Joey was left waiting on the pavement. In all honesty, he would have preferred to drive to Henry’s place himself or at least get the tube, something where he felt like he was actively doing something. The waiting was killing him, making his thoughts run out of control. Maybe he shouldn’t have packed his guitar. He could have at least been tuning it, or plucking out some meaningless melody, anything to keep his hands busy and his mind distracted.

When the black car pulled up, Joey let out a sigh of relief before realising that it was very much frying pan, fire. Luckily, before he could really start to panic, the back door opened and Joey was almost bowled off his feet by a large bundle of fur that Henry claimed was a dog and not, in fact, a bear.

“Kal!” Joey greeted warmly, burying his fingers into Kal’s neverending fur, and letting the dog lick all over his face.

“He’s missed you,” Henry called in lieu of a greeting.

He was wearing a grey henley that looked like it was two sizes too small and his dark blue jeans seemed to strain against his quads. Henry’s arms were crossed in front of his chest and he looked down at Joey with a blinding Hollywood smile that made Joey’s heart flutter. Dark curls seemed to have finally recovered from the weeks stuck under Geralt’s wig and they fell in front of his so very blue eyes.

He was bloody gorgeous, and it wasn’t fucking fair.

So Joey did the only logical thing, and started to coo at Kal instead. “I’ve missed him too,” he trilled happily into the dog’s fur, scratching Kal behind his ears. “Such a good boy! The bestest, cutest doggo.”

“He’s not the only one who’s missed you, you know,” Henry groused, although when Joey looked up, he was still smiling so Joey didn’t feel too bad for paying far more attention to Kal than the gorgeous specimen of a man that is Henry Cavill.

“Aww, you sap,” he chuckled. “Well, I still haven’t forgiven you for those cruel and terrible words you cursed me with the last time we met.”

It wasn’t the last time they’d met. They’d had a few scenes after the argument in episode six. Scheduling had meant that it wasn’t filmed entirely in order, and then there had been reshoots and post-production parties, premieres and the table reads for season two, but it was a sort of in-joke. Joey liked to tease Henry about the argument, they’d both lurked enough online to know that ‘the mountain’ was a big fucking deal to the fans of their characters.

Henry rolled his eyes and opened his arms out for a hug which Joey eagerly returned, inhaling the soft musky cologne that Henry wore and enjoying the strongs arms that wrapped around him. He loved hugs, but most of Joey’s male friends would do that god awful hug and pat thing, then pull away too soon. Henry had never been like that and it was delightful, even if it really didn’t help the not so little crush that Joey had on the man.

It was cliche but it really did feel like coming home.

Fuck.

He was utterly screwed… and not even in the fun way.

The drive to Henry’s place was quiet, Joey spent most of the time watching the streets of London roll past as they weaved through bendy roads that webbed across the city. The traffic was weirdly non-existent, a side effect of a global pandemic, and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the ghost towns from films and books.

It was truly haunting, spooky in just the right way. Horror and the Wild had very much had woodland magic vibes, but driving through the dead streets of London, Joey wondered what happened to the fae when a city sprung up near their home. Did they adapt like the wildlife did? Urban spirits that lurked in the shadows, in the alleys, behind the bins and cobbled streets at the back of theatres.

Most theatres were supposed to be haunted, Joey had always wondered just who the spirits were that glided through the aisles when the shows went dark.

Henry didn’t feel the need to fill the silence which Joey was grateful for. On set, with Jaskier on his fingertips, Joey was happy to joke about and laugh and banter, but he was nervous about the move to Henry’s and the silence gave him time to get lost in his own imagination, a reality that wasn’t quite the one they knew.

He was almost disappointed when the car pulled to a stop in front of a rather grand house. It was part of a terrace but that was unsurprising, most places in London were, but it was much nicer than the shitty little flat that Joey shared with Madeleine.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

They were poles apart. Even being friends was unrealistic. How the hell was Joey supposed to even pretend they were in the same league? It was fine. Everything was going to be fine. Joey just had to be a perfect house guest, no clumsy mistakes, no setting fire to any ovens, and no slipping in the shower and messing up his ankle.

He’d just have to spend all his time with Kal lest Henry find out just how much of a walking disaster he could be.

Henry had only offered because he was a caregiver, selfless and kind in everything he did. He would have done the same to anyone else if they’d mentioned spending lockdown alone. Joey was just the lucky one.

Or unlucky.

He hadn’t quite decided yet.

Yes, he would just have to spend his days with Kal and his guitar, stay out of Henry’s way and then everything would be fine.

Right?

___

Joey’s plan went according to plan for almost an entire week. He mostly kept to his room and occasionally the living room. Henry wanted to show Joey some films he liked and it would have been rude to say no, so Joey curled up with Kal on the floor to keep some space between them. That way he wouldn’t be tempted to snuggle up against Henry’s chest the same way he did with Madeleine, only it wouldn’t be the same because Madeleine was his best friend and Henry was… well… Henry.

It was such a mess.

And he was probably being an arse.

They’d gotten along so well on set in between takes, but now, without Jaskier there as a crutch, Joey’s anxiety was getting the better of him, and all because of a stupid crush. This would all be a lot easier if Joey were straight; no awkward crushes, no pining for a man he couldn’t have, no… whatever this was?

He could flirt and tease and banter just like he would with any of his friends because it was harmless.

If only.

No.

He had to do better. The reason Henry had invited him to stay was so neither of them would be alone, and despite all his cuddles with Kal, Joey was really starting to feel touch starved. He’d never gone so long without human touch.

The problem was that Henry was just so fucking sweet. He was so bloody understanding that it made Joey just yearn even harder. There was never any pressure to hang out, just gentle suggestions, and the most amazing home-cooked meals that Henry said could be heated up another time if Joey wasn’t hungry. The wine Henry picked out to go with the meal was heavenly, and fuck, the man could cook.

He felt like he was being seduced; wooed with the most gorgeous culinary delights that were truly to die for.

What was a poor bisexual to do?

So every evening Joey would sit across from Henry at the table, trying to joke and laugh just as they had before, but even to his own ears it felt flat. Madeleine’s voice in his head reminded him that that was probably his anxiety speaking but, of course, he ignored it. They ate their food and then Joey would either retreat to his room with his beloved guitar or Henry would suggest a film.

Until Henry decided enough was enough.

Joey was lured from his room with the sweet delicious smell of pizza, and when he came down the stairs he found Henry already on the couch, two boxes of pizza and a couple of beers already opened and ready to go.

There was no sitting on the floor, not with pizza and a Kal. Joey wouldn’t get to taste the greasy wonders of his takeaway if he sat on the floor, and the pizza box was already being guarded by Henry on the couch.

He had to break his rule.

Fuck.

“Kitchen table not good enough?” he teased with a quirk of his lips.

Henry scoffed. “Who eats pizza at the table?”

It was a fair point and sighed, resigning himself to an evening pressed up against his friend when his cuddle instincts got too much. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing, maybe it would help get him out of his head and into the moment… maybe he should just let Jaskier out of the box and pretend that all was fine?

No.

He could do this. Just… be himself?

“Before I open this box, there is one very important question I have to ask,” he said far too seriously, barely able to hide a smile as he scooped the pizza box into his lap and sat down next to Henry, keeping a safe distance between them.

“There’s no pineapple.”

“Oh thank fuck for that,” Joey laughed and opened the box. It was a standard pepperoni pizza, not his go to, but it was a safe option and one that was always yummy regardless of the restaurant. “Garlic dip?” he asked with a cock of his head.

“Damn, I hoped you wouldn’t like it,” Henry grumbled and pulled a small green topped tub from inside his own box.

“You!” Joey said in mock outrage, “keeping the beloved dip from me. It’s like the mountain all over again.”

“It’s not like the mountain,” Henry grumbled. “I didn’t make the script, you can’t keep blaming me for that.”

Joey’s heart sank as he wondered if he’d taken the joke too far, but when he met Henry’s gaze he saw the man was smiling despite his grousing. “I can,” he insisted.

“Hmm,” Henry replied in his most Geralt-y voice.

And with an internal sigh of relief, everything seemed to be okay. Yes, Joey was pulling some of his energy from his beloved character, but so was Henry, and it seemed to smooth out the edges of his anxiety. The beer helped and everything seemed a lot more relaxed with the takeaway pizza and the film already starting to play on the TV.

“I’m sorry,” Henry whispered after the pizza was finished and the credits had started to roll.

Joey’s head was resting on his friend’s shoulder but he’d managed to keep himself from koala hugging… so far. The vulnerability caught his attention though, and he sat up wearily to peer at Henry.

“For what?”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by inviting you here.”

Joey wanted to swear, to stomp around the room and tear the place upside down. He’d fucked up. He knew he’d fucked up, his damn anxiety keeping him from being the person he wanted to be, the person he knew he could be if his head just shut up! He didn’t do any of that though. Instead, he slumped back down to lean against Henry and took a deep breath.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t?”

“No. I’m just- it’s hard for me, being somewhere new,” not a lie, not entirely the truth, “and I didn’t want to encroach on your space. This is your home, and I- umm- I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Henry laughed, running a hand through his hair, pushing the curls back off his face, and Joey was entranced for a moment, wanting to reach out and feel the soft hair between his fingers for himself. It was a miracle that he managed to keep his hands in his own lap.

“Joey, this is our home, for now at least,” Henry said with such conviction and warmth that Joey made a sort of strangled noise in the back of his throat.

“Our home?”

“We have no idea how long this nightmare is going to last. It could be months, Joey. I want you to feel like you can relax here,” Henry insisted, wrapping his arm around Joey’s shoulder and pulling him into a sideways hug.

“Right- yeah, no, I know,” Joey mumbled, trying and failing not to blush.

Now that Henry wasn’t really having to watch what he ate and stay dehydrated for dear old Geralt, he was big.

And Joey was weak.

It was like all his wet dreams were becoming a reality, one by one.

He was just monkey-braining over the fact that Henry was one big, large, strong man that wanted to take care of him. It was pathetic. Joey wasn’t exactly small himself, and he could, should the role require it, hold up pretty well in a sword fight with Henry and not look entirely ridiculous.

“And I know Kal is very cute,” Henry teased, nodding to the dog who was sprawled on the carpet in front of them, “but if you ever need a hug, he’s not your only option.”

Joey definitely didn’t squeak this time. Instead, he finally let himself snuggle up to Henry the way he’d been wanting to all evening, every evening since he’d arrived. “Like this?” he teased.

Henry chuckled, and just squeezed his arms tighter around Joey, “Exactly.”

“I’m sorry,” Joey mumbled. “I was being an arse.”

“No, it’s not your fault.”

Joey scoffed.

“I should have been clearer on day one,” Henry sighed, “although seeing as you live here now, maybe you should cook?”

Joey laughed nervously, burying his face into Henry’s jumper. “Neither of us want that,” he muttered. “Trust me.”

“I’ll help?” Henry suggested, which of course brought forth a dozen images of cooking together, dancing in the kitchen to whatever songs fell past Joey’s lips, lazy early morning kisses as they waited for the coffee.

He swallowed, blinking away the fantasies. “How about you cook, and I’ll help?”

“Lazy,” Henry said with a chuckle but just pulled Joey closer.

“Only trying to keep you safe, darling.”

Darling.

Fuck.

“I mean, Henry, sorry, slip of the tongue. I mean- fuck. I call Madeleine darling all the time?”

“Joey, it's okay,” Henry reassured him.

“Okay.”

With a sigh, Joey untangled himself from Henry’s arms and gathered up the pizza boxes and empty beer cans. Booping Kal on the nose as he went past, he busied himself with clearing up. It wasn’t much and didn’t take long, so sooner than he would have liked he poked his head back around the door.

Henry was sitting on the floor, rough-housing Kal, chuckling as the dog kept licking at his face. The sight made Joey smile softly, and he almost didn’t want to leave, but he was getting tired and he really didn’t want to slip up again. He couldn’t blame every mistake on Madeleine. It wouldn’t be fair to her.

“I’m going to bed,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his hair. “See you tomorrow, Henry.”

_______

After that, things started to get easier. Joey would flop down onto the sofa next to Henry in the evenings regardless of what they were doing. Sometimes he’d lie with his head in Henry’s lap whilst they both read a book, other times he’d pluck at his guitar and laugh over stupid limericks that he could make up about his co-star. True to his word, Henry made Joey start helping with mealtimes, although he soon regretted that decision but refused to back down. The food still tasted good but the presentation was lacking. They spent an afternoon trying to bake bread together… Joey’s did not turn out so well and Henry’s attempt was thankfully less than perfect but still edible. The little flaws made Joey feel a little less inferior, and made Henry seem all the more human.

Kal still got a lot of Joey’s attention. How could he not? He was just so fluffy and adorable, plus Joey loved the little pout that Henry did whenever Kal got more hugs than he did. Joey could pretend that his friend was jealous, and that just helped him sleep a little easier at night.

Cuddling on the couch had become their usual routine, and it settled something deep inside of Joey that had been becoming restless. Mornings were spent watching Henry workout. Joey joined in occasionally but usually he would just cheer Henry on from the sidelines sipping his cup of tea. It was a sight to behold, and Joey thanked the lord that the gyms were currently closed otherwise he would never have been allowed to enjoy the view.

Henry’s arse was truly spectacular.

Despite his morning workouts, Henry had definitely gained a rather lovely layer of fat over his previously tightly toned muscles. He looked stronger. He looked cuddlier. Joey’s crush was only getting worse by the day, wanting to run his hands over the broad muscles of Henry’s back, thighs, arms… wherever he was allowed, but he just settled for the cuddling each day.

Joey tried not to think about the fat building over his own stomach and filling out his cheeks, barely noticeable unless you’d had a lifetime of his mother breathing down his neck about his weight. He was cuddlier too, that’s what he told himself whenever the familiar buzz of anxiety started to build up.

And anyway, Henry didn’t seem to mind.

Kal certainly didn’t. The beast of a dog had started to share the sofa with them in the evenings, squishing between them for maximum cuddle potential until eventually he got bored and retreated back to the floor.

It was really starting to feel like home. There were signs of Joey around the house, sheet music left on the TV cabinet, a set of spare lute strings in the kitchen, the bastard instrument tucked away in the corner of the living room until Joey could bring himself to pick it up. Two sets of keys now hung up by the front door so they could both take turns walking Kal without having to worry about getting locked out if the other was busy. A fluffy worn blanket was now strewn over the big armchair where Joey liked to sit during the day. Even the fridge now stocked Joey’s favourite rosé wine.

All in all, Joey wasn’t hating lockdown. It was frustrating but he enjoyed being inside anyway, and well, the company was pretty great.

The two of them were curled up on the sofa watching the Great British Bake Off on netflix, gin and tonics flowing a little too freely, and Joey felt like he was on top of the world. He had the best cuddler in all of England, nay, the world, a big fluffy puppy to boot and some bloody brilliant booze in hand.

The best thing was that Henry’s hoody had shifted up at some point during the evening, and Joey couldn’t take his eyes off the soft but defined muscles that were often hidden under Henry’s clothes. The dark hair that dipped beneath the exposed band of Henry’s boxers was tantalizing, and Joey longed to reach out and touch…

Only he was drunk enough that his inside thoughts had his hand moving before he could realise, landing on Henry’s stomach.

He froze and stared up at his friend with wide eyes.

“Oops,” he slurred.

“That’s my stomach,” Henry pointed out.

And still Joey didn’t remove his hand, relishing the bare skin beneath his fingertips, but he knew he needed an excuse, so he did the only logical thing and launched his attack. Henry was stronger than him, but Joey had the element of surprise as he tickled his friend, fingers dancing across the exposed skin as Henry desperately tried to shove Joey away. They were both laughing, too busy pushing and pulling at each other, that neither of them quite registered that at some point in the tussle, Joey had straddled Henry’s waist in an attempt to keep him pinned down.

Until suddenly their lips were barely a breath apart.

Oh.

“Hi,” Joey mumbled, smiling coyly down at Henry, the longer strands of his fringe falling into his eyes.

“Hi.”

It wouldn’t take much to lean down and kiss him, maybe Henry would even reach up first. There was no denying the sudden pull between them, and god, Joey wanted it. He’d wanted it for so long now.

So close.

The warmth of Henry’s breath brushing against his lips.

Eyes closed.

Hearts racing.

A soft whisper of a moan.

And then a bark rang out in the room, startling Joey and shattering the moment. He cursed as he fell to the floor, the world spinning from the gin and giddy burst of adrenaline. Kal jumped up into Henry’s lap, barking and whining excitedly at his owner, checking that he was okay following Joey’s tyrannical tickle attack.

Joey felt like an ice bucket had been dumped over his head, feeling far too sober, far too fast.

He’d almost kissed Henry.

Fuck!

“Right,” he slurred as he pushed his hands back through his hair- too long, needed a haircut. “Bedtime, sleep. Yup.”

“Joey?”

“See you in the morning?” he mumbled, although glancing at the clock, he wondered if that was a little optimistic. “Tomorrow,” he amended.

“Tomorrow,” Henry agreed, looking a little disappointed.

Joey refused to think about it. He wouldn’t start to hope. It would hurt too much if this all went wrong.

______

They didn’t talk about it.

Or rather, Joey, didn’t talk about it.

Henry tried to bring it up the next morning but Joey just laughed it off before his heart could get torn to pieces. He didn’t need confirmation that his crush was a no go. He already knew, but he really didn’t need to hear the words. Not to mention his hangover was an utter bitch and all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed and feel sorry for himself, which is exactly what he did.

After a few days, or was it weeks, months, years? Time seemed to stop existing, all Joey knew was his clothes seemed to be tighter than before and he was in desperate need of a haircut, but after a lockdown-eque period of time, all was forgotten. They fell back into their usual routine, and Joey’s crush continued to simmer just below the surface, unnoticed by Henry.

He’d started to facetime Madeleine most evenings just before bed now that the novelty of living with a bloody filmstar had worn off. He missed her terribly and she seemed to be going crazy at her parent’s house. There was a twinge of guilt stabbing in his chest when he realised he’d all but forgotten about her the first few weeks of lockdown, but it was nice to catch up with her again.

Henry was brilliant, but he was no Madeleine Hyland. He wasn’t Joey’s best friend.

And sometimes Joey just needed to vent about Henry’s stranger habits. Like seriously, why wass there that weird sponsored water just stationed around the house? And what was with the weirdly staged selfies on instagram. It made Joey feel a whole lot better about his own lack of media presence. He’d rather be a mystery online than this boomer energy than Henry had going on.

Venting to Madeleine helped too, he got less frustrated about the shit hole that was life during a pandemic. A little less angry, a little less depressed, and a little less pathetic with his pining over Henry, although Madeleine would probably disagree.

She was probably right.

The sudden cold turn in the weather hadn’t helped. It wasn’t too bad but Joey had mostly brought summer clothes with him because he honestly hadn’t thought he’d be staying more than a couple of weeks. Thankfully he’d thrown in a couple of onesies for comfort reasons so he spent most his days dressed like a tiger and hoping that Henry would find it endearing. The best part was his onesies were a bit looser and fit him more comfortably than his normal clothes. A lockdown diet was brilliant, but not exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d gone shopping all those years ago.

What he hadn’t expected, was for Henry to rock up to dinner wearing the stupid bunny onesie that Joey had left in his room.

“There,” Henry greeted him with a broad smile, “Now we match.”

It wasn’t fair. Joey wanted to kiss him so badly. The white onesie was a little short on Henry, pulling up just above his ankles, and it still managed to stretch at his shoulders, but it was so fucking adorable and Joey could pin point the exact moment his crush tumbled over the edge into love.

It was the crinkles at the corner of Henry’s eyes as he smiled, the slight tilt of his head, the sparkle in his ocean blue eyes.

Except they weren’t just blue. No, there were specks of golden brown in one eye, that were just captivating. Joey felt like he could so easily get lost in Henry. Every time he looked at the man he found something new and exciting.

“Darling, you look adorable!” he cooed, before he could get too distracted by the fluttering of his own heart. “Very cuddly.”

Henry chuckled and opened his arms wide, allowing Joey to barrel into them. “That was the idea.”

“So, what’s for dinner?” he asked, hoping that Henry would have forgotten that-

“It’s your turn to cook.”

“Bugger,” Joey whined. “Cheesy pasta?”

“You made that last time,” Henry teased.

“I’m very good at carbonara!” Joey countered.

“Melted cheese on pasta isn’t carbonara.”

Joey scoffed. “Eh, close enough.”

“Fine, make your cheesy pasta.”

“Carbonara,” Joey said with a wink. “I’ll add bacon this time.”

The pasta was overcooked and the bacon was a little chewy, but it was dinner, and afterwards Henry made them both extravagant hot chocolates made from actual chocolate rather than powder shit that Joey used. It was covered in whipped cream and marshmallows and had a healthy amount of Baileys to top it off. They curled up on their usual spot on the sofa, buried under blankets and held the warm mugs close to their chests.

If it had been snowing, then Joey would have thought he’d walked into a Christmas film, all it needed was a fireplace and some fairy lights. It was cosy and warm, and a little bit romantic, or it would be if Henry was interested in men and Joey was his type.

No, he couldn’t think like that.

They were friends, good friends, good friends that liked to cuddle and almost kiss if the dog hadn’t interrupted.

It was fine.

Everything was fine.

He took a long gulp of his hot chocolate to stave off his anxiety, not noticing when his nose dived straight into the whipped cream until he looked up to find Henry staring at him with a fond expression. Warmth flooded through Joey’s chest as he returned the smile, feeling high on love and sugar.

“Hi,” he breathed, sounding as love sick as he felt.

Henry’s smile brightened, filling the whole room with light and Joey could have sworn he could hear the swell of violins in the soundtrack of his life.

“Hi,” Henry replied easily as if he hadn’t stolen Joey’s breath, heart and soul. “You- umm, cream, here!”

Henry tapped his own nose.

“Oh cock!” Joey hurried to wipe his nose, almost spilling his hot chocolate in the process, “Fuck! Bugger, shit balls!”

Henry, the bastard, just laughed, his arms reaching out to steady the mug and stop Joey from falling to the ground. “I think you made it worse.”

Joey snorted “I got that, yup, thanks.”

This time he could feel the sticky sweet cream clinging to his cheek, the subtle taste of vanilla on his lips. He pouted up at Henry, gazing through his eyelashes in a way that he hoped could be played off as friendly, but also maybe a little bit seductive. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips and he barely resisted the urge to wink.

Maybe there had been more Bailey’s in his drink than he realised.

Instead, he just wiped his face and snuggled back up to Henry, pulling the blanket up to his chin. They settled on watching Always Sunny, so Joey didn’t really have to concentrate. He let the tension drain from his body as he listened to the familiar TV show and then closed his eyes. Warm, happy and wrapped up in the arms of the man he loved-

Joey fell asleep.

He didn’t notice the way Henry was staring down at him as if he hung the fucking moon and stars, or the inner turmoil his friend was plague with as Henry resisted leaning down to kiss Joey in his sleep.

No, Joey was blissfully ignorant, sleeping better than he had in weeks.

________

The rest of lockdown went by in a blur. Their routine started to seem normal and any doubts Joey had about spending so much time with Henry faded away. They bantered easily like they had on set, laughing and giggling over whatever stupid thing one of them had said. Henry would spend hours playing his video games whilst Joey zoomed Madeleine to work on their new album together. When the regulations relaxed they started to walk Kal together, enjoying the quiet summer days and fresh air. The cuddling never really stopped, and some mornings Joey would wake up still curled up against Henry’s chest, their limbs tangled from the night before.

Those were Joey’s favourite mornings. He’d be stiff all day from sleeping on the couch but he could pretend, for just a few moments, that things were more than they were.

The pining never went away but it was truly the sweetest torture that he’d ever had to endure. The domestic bliss being barely a step away from everything he craved.

And when the time came for Joey to return to his flat with Madeleine, he felt like shit. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay in the strange fantasy world he had with Henry, eating too much food and drinking too much wine, cuddling and watching crappy Netflix shows.

Which was why he was sat, staring at a messy pile of clothes on his bed, clothes he’d not worn in weeks. Over the chair were his onesies and a collection of jumpers and hoodies that he’d stolen from Henry over the last few months and weeks. Kal stared up at him from the floor, tail thumping against the carpet.

Joey sighed and ran his hand through his hair, trying desperately to ignore the ache in his chest that was growing more painful with everything second that passed. “I don’t know, Kal. I should be happy about going home.”

Kal didn’t respond, his tail still wagging away just like it always did whenever Joey paid attention to him.

“I miss Madeleine, of course I do, but living with Henry has been great. And you, I love you, big fluffy puppy!” He cooed with a big smile as Kal barked happily and jumped up onto the bed. Joey laughed as he tried to keep his face away from the attack, wrapping his arms around Kal’s neck and pressing his nose into the fur.

“If I tell him how I feel that’s just going to make season two really really awkward, but I just feel like I’m missing a chance, you know?”

If Kal knew, he either didn’t care or just enjoyed watching Joey suffer. There was no reply and Kal just rested his head in Joey’s lap.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, still running his fingers through Kal’s fur. “You’re no use.”

Kal snorted at that and Joey rolled his eyes.

“But I love you anyway, yes I do!”

“Ready to go?” Henry asked from the door.

“Shit!” Joey yelped. “How long have you been standing there?!”

Henry chuckled, striding into the room and perching on the bed opposite Joey. He reached out to scratch Kal on the head with a dazzling smile. Joey felt his cheeks warm up and he buried his face in Kal’s fur to hide the blush. So many months and he still couldn’t stop his heart from racing whenever Henry smiled. He was pathetic.

And he was running out of time.

He knew it was a bad idea, even entertaining the thought of dating a co-star, but he’d regret it if he didn’t give it a shot. I mean he could always blame the mixed signals if it went wrong. They’d nearly kissed twice and Joey didn’t even cuddle Madeleine as much as he’d cuddled Henry. They were probably the only people that were less touch-starved during the lockdown than before.

So Joey was going to tell him.

Just three words.

He could do that.

Fuck!

He couldn’t do that.

“Joey?” Henry said, reaching out to squeeze Joey’s shoulder.

Joey blinked. Had Henry been talking to him? He’d asked a question so that would make sense. God, his anxiety had gone through the roof, it was like that first day all over again.

“Need to pack,” he mumbled, gesturing at his clothes.

Henry let out a long and heavy sigh, sounding just as thrilled about the idea as Joey did. “I suppose you do, yeah. When is Madeleine due over?”

Joey hummed, glancing at his watch. “Ten minutes ago. Lockdown traffic must be a thing of the past.”

“Pity.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Henry sighed.

Neither of them moved, both staring glumly at Kal who was happily nestled between them. It was strange but Joey had almost begun to think of Kal as his, theirs. Their home, their life, their dog. He would miss Kal very much.

He would miss Henry even more.

“Do you have a start date yet?” Joey asked, the restrictions were lifting and there were talks about getting back to work again, but it was all up in the air.

Henry shook his head. “Should be getting a call from my agent some time this week. I need to make sure my other projects can work around the schedule.”

Joey smirked, “Or my dear witcher will have a new face next time we meet,” he teased.

Henry scoffed. “Not a chance, you’re stuck with me, bard.”

“You still owe me an apology,” Joey shot back, not quite realising how close they’d gotten during their mock argument.

He swallowed and licked his lips, one hand reaching up to scratch the stubble on his cheek. His face was burning right up to the tips of his ears, his heart thumping in his chest. There was a spark of electricity crackling between them, the scent of coffee lingering on Henry’s breath.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Henry promised, voice hoarse and low, making heat spread through Joey’s body and the world around them seemed to disappear.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Henry breathed, the words shaky.

Joey longed to reach out and brush his fingertips along the strong line of Henry’s jaw, to feel the scratch of stubble beneath his skin. He longed to tangle his hands in the dark mess of curls, to see if they were really as soft as they looked. It felt as if there was a magnetic force pulling them closer, a string tying their souls together, binding them as one. Joey couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to, and he was over that. He couldn’t live inside his head any longer, not when there was a chance.

Hope.

Deadly, poisoning his very soul, until he could think of nothing except Henry’s lips on his, hands roaming bodies, pulling at hair, unable to resist the promised pleasures of sin. Tongues tangling. Hearts singing. One breath shared between two. Heat. Lust. Love.

Just Henry.

His love.

Joey closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Henry’s, their lips barely ghosting over each other, you really couldn’t call it a kiss; not yet. One more breath, a millimetre to close the gap.

A horn honked from outside and they pulled apart before they could cross the bridge, past the point of no return.

Joey let out a slightly manic laugh and ran his hands through his hair, whilst Henry went back to stroking Kal as he cleared his throat.

“Bollocks, I still haven’t packed.”

“I’ll invite Madeleine in for some tea,” Henry chuckled, stretching as he stood up.

Kal barked happily and jumped down, wagging his tail as he sniffed at Henry’s socks.

And Joey was left alone once more.

“Fuck!” he groaned, covering his face as he flopped back onto his pillows.

By the time he finished packing, Madeleine and Henry were laughing away in the kitchen like old friends.

Like Joey and Henry had so many times.

He wasn’t special. Henry was just that guy.

Hope.

Dangerous and lethal, stabbing into the heart and tearing the soul apart.

“Ready,” Joey mumbled, holding up his suitcase and guitar. “Might take a couple of trips, I have another bag upstairs and the damn lute.”

“Not sure I ever heard you play the lute?” Henry teased.

“Yeah well,” Joey grumbled and turned away from the kitchen before he could start crying.

He really really didn’t want to cry in front of Henry. What was a little heartbreak between friends? At least he could channel that into Jaskier whenever they finally got back onto set. God, he was a fucking mess.

“I’ll help you,” Henry volunteered because of course he would. He probably just wanted Joey gone sooner.

The poor bloke probably couldn’t wait to have his own space back without Joey’s inedible attempts at cooking, non-stop music and chatter, lazy slobbish evenings in front of the TV.

He wasn’t going to cry.

He wasn’t.

Fuck!

Joey sniffed and stumbled out the door, his hands gripping his suitcase so tight he thought he might break the handle. Back home with Madeleine, to his life, and his bed, and nights spent drinking too much wine and lurking on social media.

He’d just about managed to throw his suitcase into the boot when he heard a loud bark behind him, followed by Henry grunting. Joey was almost knocked off his feet as Kal bundled into him, circling around as he jumped up, winding the lead around Joey’s body and pulling a poor Henry with him.

Not that Joey was particularly complaining about having Henry pressed up against him, but did it have to be when he was crying?

Henry cursed, struggling to keep hold of the lead. Their faces were close and they had to wrap their arms around each other to keep steady. Joey laughed through his tears, reminded of a similar moment from one of his favourite Disney films.

Only Kal was a lot bigger than a Dalmatian.

“I don’t think he wants you to leave?” Henry said, smiling sheepishly.

Joey smiled back despite his broken heart. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“I- I don’t want you to leave either,” Henry whispered so quietly that Joey wasn’t sure whether he’d heard it at all. “I- umm, I like having you here… with me.”

“Oh,” Joey replied stupidly.

“Fuck, I- Joey… Can- can I kiss you?”

The world turned upside down. Joey's heart stopped and everything started to spin. He tried to process the words but nothing seemed to make sense. There was no fucking way that Henry had said that, that he wanted to- wanted to…

Fuck!

“Oh,” he repeated, blinking at Henry as he licked his lips. “I mean. Fuck. No, I mean… Christ. Yes. Please. Yes.”

Henry chuckled and cupped his cheek, pressing their lips together in the most tender of kisses, taking Joey’s breath away right there on the pavement. Joey just giggled when they parted and then swooped back in for another kiss, and another-

And he never wanted to stop.

He didn’t need to breathe, he just needed this; Henry’s lips on his.

Henry had other ideas though, pulling away with a blinding smile.

“Stay with me?”

Joey nodded and threw his arms around Henry’s neck. “God, yes.”

And then they kissed some more. They had months of lockdown to catch up on, after all.

#the witcher rpf #henry cavill rpf #Joey batey rpf #Joey batey/henry cavill #Joey/henry

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just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years

Text

Soulmate September - Day 10

Day 10 - You are born with a birthmark, similar to a tattoo, that is shared by your soulmate.

Pairing(s): Romantic Anaroceit, Romantic RemSleep, Ambiguous Poly Glasses Gays

TWs: Swearing, Remus being Remus, animal death metions briefly, implied sexual mention once I think?

–

Why was it so difficult to simply bring together two handsome, obnoxious soulmates?

How could grown men be this dense?!Virgil had been trying for MONTHS at this point to get these idiots to date, yet for some reason

Instead of wanting to date each other, they both seemed far more interested in someone else.

In him.

Why, why did this have to be his life? Tormented by such stupid, handsome men?

Okay, maybe he had a teeny crush on both of them but Virgil was getting ahead of himself.

Working at the local theatre was doing some real good for Virgil; being a techie meant he was mostly out of the spotlight - so no chance of any performance anxiety - and it meant he had to actually wake up and be a functional human being but was flexible enough that he could call in sick pretty easily if he needed a mental health day.

Thankfully, things had been going well until Virgil looked down from the catwalk to note that the two best actors in their troupe, Roman Prince and Janus D. Lyre, both bore each other’s soulmate markings. Both on the backs of their necks, all too easy to miss. Ever since, Virgil had been trying to subtly get them to realise they were soulmates. Of course, given the intimacy of the soulmate marks, it would be entirely outrageous for Virgil to simply tell them they were soulmates; social etiquette wasn’t his forte, but his anxiety really didn’t want the possible shunning he might receive if he broke that rule. Knowing that Janus and Roman were often together for rehearsals and were similarly self-obsessed, Virgil assumed getting them interested in each other would be a piece of cake.

And yet. Somehow. The man they were both interested in was Virgil himself.

Every time he tried to get the two talking, Virgil wound up being flirted with or found himself stuck between two arguing idiots. If anything, Virgil wondered if his interfering had made things worse. Now instead of kidding and being perfect and gorgeous together, they were absolutely straight up enemies. Janus did his best to interrupt - and one-up - Roman’s stellar attempts at flirting, and Roman often tried to out shine Janus by giving Virgil anything from his favourite chocolates to gothic black roses to new headphones.

Not that Virgil didn’t secretly love being the object of their mutual affection, if anything it gave him hope that perhaps whoever his soulmate was would dote on him just as much. But just like his non-existent soulmate mark, this just wasn’t meant to be. He still wasn’t sure why he didn’t have a soulmate mark like everyone else; even his ace and aro friends confirmed they had soulmates too, so why was he skipped over? Probably because no one would ever want to be his soulmate.Yeah. Probably.

Virgil was lost in that downward spiral when Remus leapt off of the set he was painting and landed just shy of crushing the poor emo.

“Wow you look like shit,”, the trash rat greeted, sitting and slinging an arm around Virgil before he could protest, “Are the girls fighting again?”

Virgil tried to stifle a snicker. It’s a stupid meme reference, Virgil, don’t laugh.

“Of course it fucking is, when is it not?“

Remus nodded, though he looked more bored than sympathetic, “Well, how about I offer you some advice, my good bitch?”

Virgil squinted at him in both annoyance and suspicion. “If it’s going to get me arrested, it’s a solid ‘fuck no’.”

“Relax, asshole, it’s totally legal and requires zero body bags and or falsified witness statements!”

Well. That’s about as good as they’re going to get. Virgil huffed, “Fine, give me the deets, Ratman.”

Remus snickered at the old nickname; A decade had passed but still the memory of the two of them graffitiing their high school gym with their tags on their last day still lived on.

“Alright, Stitch Bitch, here’s how you do it,”, Remus ignored Virgil’s eye roll and continued, “Ask them both on a date, same place and time. Talk about your interests, since you’re probably not gonna actually have that much in common, then you can just reject both of them! They’ll be driven into each other’s arms, or some shit. You know what they’re like, they’re dramatic as fuck. It’ll be perfect.”

Virgil wasn’t amused, “But what if they don’t? What if I just end up breaking both their hearts and they wind up all depressed and-?!”

“Then it solves your problem anyway, dipshit.”, he rolled his eyes, “Jeez, you’re worse than Roman with the dramatics! Think of the middle ground, you turn them both down, they go home sulking, but they’re big boys! They’ll get over it and get together some other day! Big deal!” Remus affectionately ruffled Virgil’s hair and didn’t stop until Virgil all but threw him off, “Alright, alright, fine! I’ll try, but if it all goes wrong, you’re helping me pack to move across the fucking globe.” “Ooh, alright! Or I can hide your body if it goes REALLY badly! I know how to make sure the police never find it, after all! Did you know you just need to bury it vertically and put a dead animal on top-”

Virgil tuned him out, already trying to narrow down locations for dates in his head. He’d need to pick somewhere both Roman and Janus would agree to go. He didn’t exactly doubt either of them would turn him down, but he needed to be sure they’d both attend. Perhaps the local restaurants would be a good place to start? It’d be easy to Mrs.Doubtfire that shit. Minus the clothing change, of course. Maybe the Golden Palace might be a good idea? It’s bougie enough for Roman, classy enough for Janus, and if Virgil got lucky enough, perhaps they’d both be the ones to pay for dinner.

“...And so I told Roman about it and then Roman tells me “Remus, you dunce, you got arrested because you were caught carrying a dangerous weapon in Starbucks” but I personally think that cop was just an asshole. I mean, it was just a baseball bat for fuck’s sake, so WHAT if it had a few nails in it-”

The techie noted that Remus was still babbling to himself so he clicked his fingers just shy or flicking him in the ear,

“When’s Roman free? I know Janus is pretty flexible-”

“I’ll bet.”, Remus snickered. “Dude. You have your soulmate, don’t be a dick.”

“Hey, that doesn’t mean I can’t mentally rank every guy here on how bendy I think they’d be in bed-”

“THAT ASIDE.”, Virgil interrupted, rubbing his temples like it would squeeze out the horrible mental image and several questions he never wanted answers to, “I’ve nailed down the where, I just need the when. Janus is free most days, but Roman’s pretty enigmatic about that shit. Do you know if he’s free tonight? Might as well get this shit over with.”

Remus mulled it over, “He should be. But you should probably just ask him first then Janus. Y’know, save yourself the trouble.”

Ah. That did make sense. Virgil tried not to let it show that he hadn’t thought of that and nodded, “Right… Okay. Just, if I fuck up talking to either of them, be ready.”

“With the car or a shovel?”

“Both.”

The trashrat snickered and let Virgil stand up, giving him an ‘affectionate’ jab in the back of his knee just to get a reaction out of the techie. Virgil wasn’t sure why Remus did that sometimes, he figured it was just another one of the demented twin’s eccentricities.

Inhaling deeply, Virgil sought out Roman, careful to avoid Janus’ line of sight as he tapped the flamboyant twin on the arm. Roman spun to face him, his expression lighting up in a way that made Virgil shamefully wish that he was his soulmate. That he was worthy of all his doting.

“Virge! What can I do for you, my dark and stormy knight?”

Stop being so fucking charming perhaps?

“Uh, it’s kind of an embarrassing request, so bear with me.”

“Of course! What’s up?”

Just ask him, ignore the butterflies, he’s not your soulmate.

“I was wondering, if you’d want to go on a date with me tonight-”

Roman positively swept the emo off his feet, his beaming smile could have burned itself into Virgil’s eyes.

“YES!! YES, I’D ADORE-”

“YEP! Okay, that’s great!”, he shushed him, trying to keep things as quiet as possible, “Listen, I know you’re excited but I’m really anxious about this-”

“Nothing new there.”, Roman chuckled affectionately as he put Virgil down.

“Oh shut up,”, Virgil smirked, pushing down the sunny feeling that chuckle brought out, “Look, I’ll text you the details so can you just keep this between us? I don’t want anyone gossiping. Not that I’m ashamed of you or anything I just-”

Roman carefully halted his word vomit with a gentle caress of Virgil’s cheek, “It’s alright, I understand. After all, with such an honour, I’d do good not to betray the trust of my charming prince.”

Virgil flusteredly averted his gaze, “Hmph. What happened to your ‘dark and stormy knight’?”

“Well, if things go well, I’d hope to promote him.”

The wink Roman shot Virgil should be illegal, that thing could have killed him. The techie just gave him an attempt at an ‘oh fuck off’ smirk that came out more as a ‘fuck I have a crush’ shy smile.

No time to dwell on it, he had another stupidly handsome man to ask on a fake date.

Virgil checked with the stagehands and made his way over to the backstage dressing room area, finding Janus sat on one of the makeup tables while their dramaturg was busy going over some directions for their next rehearsal. Upon looking up and noticing him, Janus smirked - another expression that should be outright banned for it’s lethality - and politely requested the dramaturg ‘bother him another time’. They did exactly that, leaving Virgil and Janus alone to talk,

“Virgil,”, Janus purred with a voice like sweet honey, “what brings you here?”

Don’t think about that sexy voice, don’t think about that sexy voice, don’t-

“You, actually.” Play it cool, Virge. Be suave and charming. “I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

Janus’ eyes widened slightly in surprise. Virgil felt pretty proud to have finally stunned the silver-tongued gent, though he knew it’d only be a fleeting victory. If anyone would out-smooth even the most flirty person alive, it would be Janus.

With a snake-like fluidity, Janus slunk off of the table and made his way over to Virgil; whereas Roman was only an inch or two taller than him, Janus had a whole six inches at least. Virgil found it semi-intimidating, but that just made the taller man more attractive if he was being honest. Janus softly ran a hand through Virgil’s purple-dyed hair,

“That’s rather a bold request, Virgil. What brought this on, if I may ask? Not that I’m complaining..”

Virgil had to work extremely hard to resist the urge to nestle into the warmth of his palm. Not your soulmate! Stop it! “I uh, I figured I would take a risk for once. It’s alright if you don’t wanna-”

“No.”, Janus interjected, the hand in Virgil’s hair sliding under his chin to lock their eyes, “I’d very much like to go on a date with you. When and where?”

Virgil swallowed nervously, “The Golden Palace, tonight? I’ll um, I’ll book the table and text you the time-”

“Perfect.”, Janus smirked, gently releasing Virgil. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been subconsciously leaning into Janus’ touch until he almost felt himself sway. “I’ll be sure to wear my best suit for you. Really give you something to blush over.”

Shit.

Virgil had no rebuttal, he simply nodded and hastily headed back to his usual breakspot to work out just how he would survive tonight…

It turned out the answer was simple; he wouldn’t.

Thankfully Virgil had settled on an outfit that was just the right mix of fancy and casual; his black leather jacket hugged his shoulders which his dark purple button up sat under. He’d gone back and forward between his options for bottoms, but in the end, he preferred his black short pencil skirt and a pair of sheer black tights that matched his black ankle boots. It was a bold choice, but Virgil felt far more powerful in that combination. Like he could kick ass and get away with it.

Virgil needn’t have bothered, however, as the second he showed up at quarter to seven to meet Roman, any semblance of confidence in his ability to control the situation went right out the window. It should have been illegal to look that handsome. A white waistcoat and pants bearing gold trim, combined with a burgundy button up shirt with the sleeves rolled? How dare Roman look that beautiful-

Oh god, now he’s smiling at him from across the room. Too late to back out now.

Swallowing nervously, Virgil returned the smile and headed over to the table he’d booked; far enough from the door for Roman to miss Janus arriving, and out of the way enough so that they wouldn’t see each other too soon. If he wasn’t so nervous, Virgil would have pat himself on the back for the trouble he went to securing two tables over the phone, but the last thing he wanted to focus on was the person on the phone’s sassy remarks as he did so. Instead, he focused on Roman politely getting up to pull out his chair for him.

“You look stunning, Virge! Did you change up your eye shadow too?”

Virgil gave an anxious nod, “Yeah, I thought maybe I’d try the purple instead of solid black like usual. Do you like it?”

Roman’s grin could’ve smothered him in the night and he’d have thanked it for the priveledge, “I love it!”

While keeping an eye on the time, Virgil let himself roll into conversation with Roman; he was surprised by not only how smoothly the conversation went, but how much they had in common. Sure, there was a tiiiiny heated exchange as to which Disney movie reigned supreme, but their mutual love of Nightmare Before Christmas and the artistic pursuits made for some wonderful discussion. It was a shame Virgil had to remind himself of just why he was doing this.

He was supposed to be making his rejection of Roman easier, not more difficult.

Finally, as 8 O’clock rolled around, Janus walked in followed by a few other smartly dressed patrons. Of course, Janus very much stood out among them wearing a black dinner suit with an obsidian waist coat and golden coloured button up underneath. His usual bowler hat had been replaced for a much fancier one with a larger brim that held a marigold flower. The sight was so enticing, Virgil had to will himself to stop staring as he got up from the table,

“Excuse me, Roman, mind if I go use the bathroom?”

Roman gave a nod and Virgil made haste towards the restroom area; thankfully he’d planned ahead and knew he could use the corridor that went along behind the bar to emerge on the other side of the room without being detected. However, a new obstacle proved to be a challenge; Janus hadn’t taken his eyes off of the door since the moment he’d walked in and removed his suit jacket.

Damn. Virgil hadn’t anticipated that.

Luckily, one of the men who’d come in behind Janus - a man adorned in an off-black suit wearing a beanie, a pair of sunglasses, and a face mask - had just come out of the bathroom door behind him. Without the time to let his social anxiety kick in, Virgil stopped the man and asked quietly, “Hey, sorry to be a bother, but if you can distract the handsome guy at that table for a couple minutes,“, he began, gesturing to Janus, “I’ll give you ten bucks, how’s that sound?”.

The man seemed to stare for a moment behind the shades then silently gestured with his hands in a motion of “more”.

Of course.

“Okay, uh, fifteen?”

More again. This asshole..

“Ugh, fine, twenty! That's as much as I can spare!”

The man shrugged and nodded, gladly taking the money and, to his credit, doing exactly as was asked. Virgil watched him approach Janus, asking for the time if the way Janus took his attention and turned it to his watch was an indication. It bought Virgil enough time to ‘arrive’ just as the man gave a thank you nod to Janus.

“Sorry I’m a little late,”, Virgil apologised, taking his seat, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting?”

“Not at all,”, Janus assured him, smirking delightedly in a way that made Virgil’s knees feel weak even in a sitting position, “You look beautiful, Virgil, if I’d known you’d look so good, I’d have picked out an even better suit.”

This fucking guy, oh my god. “Oh shut up, you look handsome as is.”, Virgil shot back, doing his best to remain calm even as Janus leant in close to strike up conversation.

“I’m telling you, babes, he’s either a cheater or he’s crazy.”

Remy aimed the stirrer he’d been using to push back his cuticles towards Virgil and Janus, then trained it on his stoic co worker, “Look, he’s got two gorgeous guys here and neither of them have noticed yet.”

The aforementioned co worker rolled his eyes, “Remy, you have once again utterly misread the situation for the sake of needless dramatics. It’s rather obvious what’s going on here if you take the time to pick up on subtle body language clues.”

“What’s this about clues, Logie Bear?”, questioned a rather eager waiter carrying a tray of glasses back behind the bar. “Are you playing Sherlock again?”

“Patton, please, refrain from the pet names during working hours, I’ve told you before-”

“While they’re perfectly suitable and welcome at home, we must remain professional at work.”, chimed in another bespectacled man who was manning the till, “It’s fine Logan, honey, let them off the hook this once, okay?”

Patton put down the tray and wrapped their arms around the man who’d just spoken, “Emile’s right! C’mon Logan, you can’t deny it, you like the name too-”

Logan cleared his throat to throw off the peachy blush that threatened to give away his adoration for his soulmates, ”As I was saying before, it’s obvious as to what this rather anxious individual is up to. His body language isn’t that of a cheater, Remy,”, the server flipped Logan the bird, “In fact, I’d hazard a guess that the poor lad is simply attempting to work out which man is his soulmate. I read a fascinating journal that talked all about this phenomenon where some soulmates are unable to see their soulmarks and thus rely on a technique comparable to sensing one’s aura-”

“Okay so like, you think he’s trying to get a read on these two to narrow it down?”, Remy interrupted before Logan could further explore his tangent, “Well then, it’s obvious which one he’s gonna pick.”

Remy gestured lazily over his shoulder at Roman, who was currently twirling his fork between his fingers, “It’s gonna be Tall, Dark and Dumbass over there, babes.”

Logan scoffed, “Falsehood. Clearly the gentleman he’s sat with currently is a much more appropriate option.”. The server nodded his head in their direction, “All factors point to the man in black not only being the more suitable option, but his body language is far more open and receptive to our subject.”

“Subject. Christ it’s like I’m back in science one.”, Remy groaned, but continued to argue, “Besides, you’re ignoring how he’s like, totes more comfortable with my boy in white, sweetie. Look at him, he can’t wait to get away from your boy in black.“

Sure enough, Virgil had gone to switch partners again, returning to Roman with a sweetly shy apologetic gesture.

Patton piped up, “What if they’re like us, Logie Bear? Y’know, more than one soulmate?”

Logan shook his head, “Ridiculous, it’d make no sense to have such a date if that were the case.”

Remy nodded in agreement for the first time, “Yeah, either way, you’re wrong on this one, Logan. Trust me, I know what a fellow morosexual looks like.”

Emile and Logan both sighed at that one while Patton tsk’d, “Remy, come on, thats your soulmate you’re talking about! You shouldn’t be mean!”

Remy quirked an eyebrow at Patton, “Babes, have you met Remus? I love the big sap but he’s a certified dumbass with a heaping dose of cryptid.”, he opened the drinks cooler and took out a lemonade bottle, not giving a shit that the three soulmates behind him were absolutely unamused. ”Anyway, if you’re so sure over who our ‘subject’ will end up with, how about we bet on it? Loser has to work two weeks of overtime and the winner gets thirty dollars or some shit. You in?”

Patton and Emile both declined, both more focused on their work and simply enjoying the dates being had, while Logan agreed wholeheartedly, “I do hope your next two weeks are free, Remy...”

He couldn’t take much more of this.

The longer Virgil kept going back and forth between the two of them - using his anxiety to buy himself time without too much suspicion - the more he was getting tangled up in feelings he knew he couldn’t indulge. Every second with Roman made him smile, even when trading verbal jabs. Every second with Janus made him feel more bold, able to flirt back every once and a while. But this wasn’t right. Janus, Roman, they were made for each other. Not for him.

He wouldn’t get to curl up next to Roman on a cold night, watching Disney movies, baking together, or following along to Bob Ross tutorials only for one of them inevitably would start painting on the other until they were both paint splattered, cackling messes.

He wouldn’t get to dance quietly in the living room with Janus while their favourite music plays, swaying softly to his favourite Jazz music, or lazily draping himself over Janus’ lap while they read their favourite books long into the night.

Virgil stared into the bathroom mirror; his ‘dates’ had been so sweet as to compliment him, but all he could focus on was how much of a mess he felt. He’s going to break their hearts beyond repair, all because he couldn’t just tell them they were soulmates. Social etiquette be damned, why had he let it go on like this?

Feeling his chest constricting, Virgil quickly grabbed his phone and texted Remus.

V: [help. Having a panic attack. Distract me]

He tried to remember his breathing exercises, chewing his free hand’s thumbnail anxiously until he got the text notification;

R: [Cool. Did u kno rabbits eat their babies when they’re stressed?]

…. Virgil heavily regretted asking Remus to distract him.

V: [Horrifying. Thank you.]

R: [Anytime, Stitch Bitch. Now what happened?]

V: [Dates backfired.]

R: [U caught feelings didnt u]

Virgil groaned and kept typing.

V: [fuck u]

R: [fuck me urself coward.]

Well at least that got a laugh out of him. Remus followed up that text before he could reply:

R: [Just go out there and tell them the truth]

V: [nope, no way, they’ll hate me]

R: [Bitch they’re both smitten w/ u it’ll hurt but they’ll live, they’re sat there worried about u]

V: [how the fuck do you know that?]

R: [Remy’s on shift tonight, he and Logan are taking bets on how things will pan out. They’ve been texting me non stop.]

That did explain a few things. Namely the one server with the sunglasses and sassy attitude who gave him and Roman extra desserts “for like, the cutest couple in this bitch”, and the other more stoic server who brought him and Janus a bottle of champagne “to celebrate a wonderful partnership”. When would his life stop feeling like a goddamn circus?

Virgil was pulled from his thoughts as his next text sent his blood running cold,

R: [u might wanna get back to em, they’ll be worried about u by now]

Dammit. Virgil had just left the bathroom to be met with a worried Roman, “Virgil, are you alright!? You were gone so long, I thought something had happened!”

Stomp down that affection you’re feeling, Virgil. It’s just gonna hurt more.

“I’m fine, its just my nerves-”

“Virgil?”

Both men turned to spy Janus entering the hallway with an expression of shock and disgust upon seeing the two of them. He promptly strode over and with surprising gentleness moved Virgil to his side,

“It’s bad enough I can’t avoid you at work, Prince, but I’ll not have you ruining our date night.”

As Janus went to lead Virgil away, Roman held onto Virgil’s hand, “Actually, Lies and Dolls, he’s with me tonight, so kindly take your delusions and leave.”

Oh my god, why did he trust Remus’ plan in the first place?! Janus smirked dangerously, “Or what, you dramatic hack?”

Roman took exception to that, and while Janus had the height advantage, Roman still knew how to be intimidating when needed, “I’ll make you leave!”

Before either of them could come to blows, Virgil got in between them. He might as well come clean,

“BOTH OF YOU STOP!”

Janus and Roman faced him, sporting stunned but ever attentive expressions. Ugh, this was gonna hurt.

“I can’t do this anymore! Yeah, I did ask you both here, and yeah! You’re both wonderful but you’re not meant to be with me! You’re meant to be with each other! Ugh, this was a mistake! I can’t-! I can’t be here, I’m sorry-!”

Virgil wrenched himself from between them, making a beeline through the tables and just getting out of the door before the two caught up to him. In the back of his mind, Virgil assumed the serving staff that followed behind were either desperate to see this unfold or just making sure this wasn’t going to be a dine ‘n’ dash scenario.

“Virge, come on, you’re not making any sense! I’m not meant to be with Janus,”, Roman assured him, rolling his left sleeve up the whole way and revealing Virgil’s soul mark, “I’m meant to be with you! You’re my soulmate, Virgil! Surely you knew-”

“That’s,”, Janus interrupted, “That’s not possible, because Virgil is my soulmate.”

Both Roman and Virgil turned to face him, watching Janus roll up his right sleeve to reveal Virgil’s soul mark in the exact same place as Roman’s had been.

To say Virgil was confused was an understatement, “W...Wait, no, that’s...”

Roman and Janus stared at each other’s soul mark then looked to Virgil, “You… really didn’t know that I- that we were your soulmates?”

Virgil shook his head, ”I don’t have your soulmarks though! It doesn’t make sense...”

He turned away, grasping his arms as he tried to make sense of all this. All his life, Virgil had looked in his mirror and wished - God, how he’d wished - to find just one mark. Something to prove that he was indeed someone’s soulmate. That the universe hadn’t forsaken him. And now he had two of the most wonderful men he’d ever met sporting his soul mark while he had nothing to reassure him this wasn’t some cosmic fluke?!

Janus and Roman stood in awkward silence, the latter giving the servers an apologetic look and pulling out his wallet to pay when the former noticed something about Virgil that had him squinting to get a look. “.... Virgil, do forgive me for this.”

Without hesitating, Janus whipped out his pocket knife - why he brought it on a date, Virgil had no idea - and cut a hole in the back of Virgil’s tights, careful to avoid his skin.

“What the FUCK, Janus!?”, came the obviously horrified reply, only for Janus to take a picture with his phone and hand it to Virgil, rendering him speechless.

Sure enough, there on the inside of his right knee joint was Janus’ soul mark.

“I just happened to spot the same shade of yellow showing through and, well….”

He didn’t need to finish, Virgil was stunned to silence. All this time, how could he have missed it!?

Well, it wasn’t in the easiest to see area, and come to think of it, his mirror was a little too high off the ground for that kind of angle, and with the marks being so small..…..

The revelation was met with a shocked gasp from Roman.

“... Virgil, may I-”

“I’ll just take them off, fucking hell!”

Both men turned away to let Virgil remove his shoes and tights in peace. When he gave them the all clear, Roman was ecstatic to note his own soul mark adorning the left knee joint. Virgil glanced towards his two soulmates, letting out a soft sigh of adoration at their delighted faces. He was feeling a whole rush of emotions, but right now? The last thing he wanted was to waste any more time.

“Gimme a second to pay these guys,”, Virgil gestured to the gaggle of servers set in various expressions of celebratory delight, “Then we can go back to my place and have a movie night.”

Roman and Janus offered sweet smiles to their soulmate; that sounded like the perfect end to a wild night.

---- Bonus (Because I got attached to this universe, fight me) ----

With the cafe clearing out aside a few stragglers, Remy sighed distantly, “Well, it’s a good thing we both won, babes, I didn’t wanna get stuck with all that overtime.”

Logan gave him a perplexed look, “Actually, we both lost, therefore we both should work overtime.”

Remy pulled down his shades to glare at Logan, “.... Are you fucking kidding me? Bitch, we WON, and we get to keep our money, babes. What part of that makes you think “nope, overtime sounds better”!?”

Logan was about to go into the technicalities when he chanced a glance back at his soulmates, watching as Patton excitedly gushed over the night’s events, stimming excitedly with their apron while Emile folded his own and put it away for the night, glad to listen to Patton’s bubbly rambling. Logan couldn’t deny, the idea of staying late while his soulmates were home without him wasn’t an appealing idea. Maybe this once he’d spare Remy a lecture.

“.... You know what, you’re right. Excuse me.”

With that, Logan went to join his soulmates while Remy stifled a fond smirk and went to go ask the last patron to leave. He wanted to just go home and collapse into Remus’ arms. Ugh, he just hoped this dude wasn’t going to make a fuss. He wasn’t sure what kind of guy combined a suit, a beanie, shades, AND a face mask, but Remy just hoped he wasn’t here to rob the place.

“Alright sweetie, you gotta go. We’re closing and I wanna get home to my loveable dumbass. Let’s go-”

The man gestured to his ear. Ah. Remy rolled his eyes and leant down to speak closer,

“I said-“

The man quickly pulled down his face mask and stole a peck from Remy, a grin spreading across his face that curled excitedly to match his moustache.

“You gotta get home to meeeee~.”

Remus took off the sunglasses and beanie, revelling in the surprise that painted itself over Remy’s face. He stood up, wrapping his arms around Remy’s waist as his soulmate tried to form a sentence, “How long have you just been sitting here?!”

“Ever since I figured it’d be funny to watch Virgil realise he was trying to set up his own soulmates-”

“You- Wait, Virgil!? That’s the guy you’re always telling me about?!”

“Yep!”, Remus grinned.

Remy wrapped his arms around Remus’ neck, unsure if he wanted to strangle him or hold him closer, “...Did you know he-”

“Had two soulmates? Yep~!”

Remus chuckled and kissed Remy’s cheek, “Virge and I used to have gym together. He kept saying he couldn’t find his soulmarks, I’m surprised he never got my hints...”

Sighing annoyedly at his soulmate, Remy pulled him in for a proper kiss before he could go on more of a tangent. Once they broke apart, Remy poked Remus’ chest,

“You made me lose thirty bucks, y’know.”

Remus grinned harder and pulled out twenty dollars “Well then, I better take this generous donation from my best friend and treat you to a milkshake on the way home then...”

-----

It’s finally doooone!!

This was a long one for sure, but sue me, I got super into this one!!

I’ll be playing catch up for a while so get ready for Day 11, I ended up with a last minute change and it’s gonna be a tear jerker. @tsshipmonth2020

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses @fandomsofrandom

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queenofcats17 · 3 years

Text

The Ink Demonth 21

Day 21 is Redemption

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

The first thing Joey did upon being freed from the ink was cry.

He slumped to the ground, covering his face and bowing his head, and began to absolutely wail. He cut a rather sad figure like that. His clothes were torn and stained, his hair was wild and dirty. He was unhealthily thin and his skin was so pale that his freckles looked washed out and faded.

Henry stared down at his former friend, unsure how to react. Was this an attempt to garner his sympathy or trust? Lull him into a false sense of security?

But…No. This was no trick. Joey had never been good at crying on command. And these were no crocodile tears, but great heaving sobs that shook Joey’s entire frail body.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Joey gasped between sobs. “I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve to be free.”

20 years of pent-up emotions were coming to the surface and it was not pretty. 20 years of wallowing in his own misery, 20 years of listening to Bendy spew his poisonous words back at him. 20 years of being forced to reckon with the horrors he had perpetrated on his friends and coworkers.

As far as he was concerned, he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve the freedom Henry was offering. Not after everything he’d done. Not after everyone he’d hurt.

“Of course you do,” Henry replied, kneeling to Joey’s level.

“No, I don’t!” Joey jerked away, landing on his backside as he tried to move away from Henry. “You’ve seen what I’ve done!” He gestured at the studio around him, his grief quickly turning to anger. “I don’t deserve this! I don’t deserve a second chance!” He started to laugh, the sound manic and desperate. “Didn’t you see how I hurt everyone? Didn’t you see?! I don’t deserve to be freed! I don’t deserve to get out!”

“You don’t get to decide that, Joey.” Henry’s voice and gaze gained a steely edge.

Joey’s voice abruptly died in his throat and he looked away.

Henry sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look,” he said. “I get that you’ve probably been suffering just as much as everyone else with all of this and you’re probably pretty worn down. But.” He looked into Joey’s eyes, putting a hand on Joey’s shoulder. “I’m not going to let you just throw in the towel. You want to show you’re sorry? Prove it. Take steps to be better than you were before.”

Joey hunched his shoulders, still avoiding Henry’s gaze. “What if I…can’t get better?”

“You have to try,” Henry said, his grip on Joey’s shoulder tightening slightly. “Please, Joey.” His voice got a bit softer. Even if he and Joey had parted on bad terms, he still held a great deal of fondness for Joey in his heart. And while he wasn’t going to go out of his way to make Joey do this, he wanted to believe Joey could get better. He wanted to believe Joey could learn from his mistakes.

Joey was silent for a long time before he eventually broke his silence with a slight nod and an, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Henry echoed.

“Okay,” Joey repeated. “I’ll…I’ll try. I don’t…” His breath sped up a bit. “I don’t want to do this again. I don’t want to hurt anyone like this ever again.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Henry smiled and slapped Joey’s back.

Joey let out a pained “oof” as the force of the gesture pushed him forward. Still, he managed a weak smile.

“Come on.” Henry got to his feet, dragging Joey up with him. “Let’s get out of here. I’m sure your sister’ll be happy to see you.”

One would think it wouldn’t be possible for Joey to get any paler, but he somehow did. “She is going to kill me.”

“She’s not going to kill you.” Henry rolled his eyes with an exasperation fondness.

“She absolutely will,” Joey insisted. “She told me not to do something, I did it, and it blew up in my face. She’s not going to let me live that down.”

“I think she’ll just be happy to see you’re alive,” Henry said. “She’s been really worried about you, you know.”

This made Joey pause. “She…She has?”

Henry nodded. “She has.”

Despite himself, Joey couldn’t help but smile a little. After their last conversation, he had thought she wouldn’t still be worried about him. Maybe…Maybe he could mend his relationship with her.

Henry couldn’t help but smile as well. It was going to be a long road to redemption for Joey, but Henry was sure Esther would help him get there. Joey wasn’t going to be going this alone. Not this time.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #the ink demonth #the king's heavy heart au #joey drew #freckle drew #henry stein

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tiny-smallest · 3 years

Text

day one - pride

Rating: G Characters: Henry and Bendy Warnings: none Description: Henry reflects on the definition of labels and belonging in certain spaces.

Also on AO3!

---

WHO'S READY FOR THE INK DEMONTH 2021 I SURE ONCE AGAIN TOTALLY WAS YEP DEFINITELY NO LAST MINUTE ANYTHING HERE LET'S GO

Doing writing prompts again because this year has been A Lifetime and I just don't possess the ability to draw this time so let's go let's get stupid get weird enjoy the misadventures of a specific au of of Bendy and the Ink Machine where the toons are their own people in a world they still don't entirely understand and the people who love them who try to help them navigate it.

---

Henry was used to a surprising amount of things to interrupt his day first thing in the morning. Easily numbered in the hundreds. His children were toons; there was no end to the amount of crazy nonsense that they could get into when he was asleep, and that was disregarding the fact that Bendy usually slept until noon.

Sure, he was the Troublemaker In Chief. That did not mean the other two were paragons of holiness, no matter how much Alice tried glowing her halo at him while she and her brother gave him the saddest, biggest, shiniest puppy eyes. And that didn't even take into account how much trouble they could find, no mischief intended.

He'd seen smoldering breakfasts, pancakes on the ceiling, saran wrap around the kitchen archway, demonic rubber chicken noises from a saxophone that had a part replaced with the noisemaker from the novelty prank toy...

(He still didn't regret letting Boris chase Bendy for that one without intervening.)

With all that, being immediately accosted by three toons hanging off his legs the second he came down the stairs and all trying to talk to him at the same time did not magically get any easier to withstand.

"Whatever it is, it's a no until I get my coffee," he drawled as he attempted to walk with them hanging off him, the three of them dragged along with him. It was with quite some difficulty that he got to the kitchen counter.

"But Henry!" Bendy whined, "we only got a few hours to get ready if ya say yes! We need every second!"

"For what?" he yawned, pouring a cup from the machine.

"You don't know what day it is?" Alice was surprised enough to actually let go, and she dusted herself off like the lady she was before standing up.

Instantly something cold grabbed Henry's heart and squeezed. "Uh- no I...?"

Had he forgotten someone's birthday? No, it was summertime; Bendy was a winter 'birth' and Boris and Alice were spring and fall. An anniversary of some kind? Quick think what are you forgetting you useless-

"How!?" Bendy gaped at him from down below. "It's been all over the news fer weeks!"

Well okay now he was just thoroughly confused. "I um-"

"The parade, Henry!" Boris's tail was thumping gently against the floor; he was not trying one tiny ounce to hide his eagerness. "The parade that's today!"

"Parade-?" It took just one more nanosecond of thought before it clicked.

"Oh you mean the-!" And they wanted to go to it.

Well, he shouldn't be surprised. This would be the first parade they'd get to see, wouldn't it? And it was nice weather out. And it would be bursting with color, which the toons were darn near obsessed with.

He took a contemplative sip. They weren't human; god even knew if they had any sort of sexuality at all. Could they even feel that stuff? The urge to- do anything like that? Wouldn't that technically make them asexual? That was the word, right?

Well, human or not, that would solidly mean they belonged there. Queer was queer, regardless of species, right? Hell, even if they'd just started asking themselves those questions, or wanted to support the fans of theirs who fell under that giant umbrella, they were valid for being there.

"Sure, I can take you."

Both boys cheered, lifting their arms to do so and releasing his legs. He quickly took a step away from them, but their joy had them leaping to their feet anyway and he watched as they bounced around the kitchen, slowly draining his coffee and trying to curb his smile when he was actively drinking.

It was a hard task.

Their excited chatter melted pleasantly into the background as he took the time to drink and try to shake his brain awake the rest of the way awake like shaking out an old blanket to coax out the wrinkles. Their enthusiasm always made for the perfect background noise.

"What colors do you want?"

"I dunno! There's so many! I don' even know what label I fit in-"

"I saw you checkin' out that guy the other day don't think I didn't!" The wink and nudge from Bendy sent Boris blushing so hard the poor wolf's face turned nearly as black as his fur.

"I was hopin' you hadn't-"

They were all quick to consume breakfast, and Henry retreated upstairs after telling the toons to come get him when they wanted to leave.

He settled comfortably in the limitless, timeless space of art before reality came knocking with Bendy's distinctive tapping at the door, pulling Henry from the space inbetween something and nothing as he set his pen aside. "Come in, kiddo."

When Bendy stepped in with what was unmistakably a rainbow flag on his cheek and extra face paint he knew he was in for a time.

"Oh uh- what's that for-"

"For you!" Bendy said with a giant grin. "Who'd ya think?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah well- I uh-"

Bendy didn't slow down. "Anyway the others are about ready to go but they sent me up here to get your flag on while they finish up- now why they trusted me with the paint I got about as much an idea as you but hey I'm not gonna complain-"

"Aw that's- that's sweet kiddo but I sorta figured I'd just be-" How to say this. "Dropping you off...?"

Immediate confusion. "What? Why?"

"Uh well- I mean-" He fiddled with the pen- when had that ended up back in his hands? "You guys- you have a space there, you know? I'm not sure if I-"

There was now a puckered frown on the little devil's face. "Not sure if you what?"

"Well I mean- I don't exactly- belong, now do I?"

The frown multiplied its intensity by about five. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Aw jeez. He really did not want to discuss this with his kid, as much of an adult as Bendy was. For many reasons. "Uh well- you know-" He gestured, as if hoping that would somehow pluck the answer from the air and implant it in Bendy's brain without having to give voice to it, setting the pen down in the process so he’d stop playing with it. "I'm not exactly- I mean-"

"You like guys." Bendy's voice was so sure that Henry knew making any sort of denial was futile. And also kind of stupid. Why would he deny that to his own son? No of course he wouldn't.

"Well I mean- I married a woman, didn't I?" he finally blurted out.

Unimpressed blinking as he drew closer to stand beside the desk. "Yeah they got a word for that. Several actually. Most popular ones are bi and pan, so which colors is it gonna be?"

"No no I mean-" God he was probably blushing. His face definitely felt way too hot. "I uh- I mean I- I like guys, yes-" great brain thanks a ton totally needed that heart rate spiking why are you acting like that's scary this is our kid- "but I- I married a woman- I like women- more often?"

The blinking was now confused.

"Uh-" How to phrase this. "If- if we split it into a pie chart- it's probably like... thirty-seventy in favor of women?" He ran his fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck again. "I'm- not that I'm any great catch but like, if I was in any way qualified to be in the dating pool again, I'd be way more likely to end up with a lady."

The unimpressed look was back. "And?"

It was Henry's look to be surprised. "And- and that means that, you know- I'm not really-"

"You like guys."

"I- yeah?"

"And you're a guy."

"Kind of a given at this point."

"So you're a guy, and you like guys, and just also happen to like girls too. We got names for that." He gave Henry's shirt an appraising look. "Gotta say the bi colors would complement your clothes best. If you want pan colors I'm gonna have to ask you to change. As your official fashion consultant."

Henry snorted. "My what?"

"Listen Dad I love you but I ain't about to let you walk into that parade wearing like, a pineapple hawaiian shirt or nothin'."

Henry banged a fist lightly on the table and pointed at him. "Liar! You wore the exact same thing just the other day!"

"Yeah but that was to the beach, not a parade."

"Literally when have you ever cared about not being a fashion disaster."

"This time, when Alice'll actually kill me otherwise."

"... Okay you got me there."

Bendy grinned. "So, bi colors or pan colors! Or somethin' else? I think there's other ones too."

He opened his mouth, closed it again and then opened it. What the hell. "... Bi colors, I guess."

"Yesssssss I was hopin' you'd say that." He hopped over onto the table like he'd suddenly become a bunny.

"Oh you were, huh?"

"Listen, the pan folks got pretty colors, but I'm always a sucker for a sunset," he said as he pulled out the pallet he needed. Henry sighed and shook his head, the smile ruining his effort to look exasperated.

"Well. Sunset me then, I guess."

"You got it boss!" Bendy said in maybe the worst mafia minion accent known to mankind.

It was barely five minutes of Bendy painting lines carefully on his cheek before he whipped out a mirror.

"Tah-dah!"

Henry blinked at himself in the mirror. He tilted his head, something shifting inside his heart that he had no name for, no way to voice.

The once proud look on Bendy's face was swiftly dropping. "... I didn't mess it up, did I...?"

"No- no, no." Henry tilted his head. "I uh..."

Bendy's worried browlines screamed anxiety to him.

"... I guess I just look good in a sunset," he said quietly, seeing the little corner of his reflection's mouth turn up as if in some sort of hazy dream.

Better than I thought.

#bendy and the ink machine #the ink demonth #batim bendy #batim henry #batim boris #batim alice angel #henry stein #batim henry stein #strike up the band au #my writing

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fandomscombine · 3 years

Text

TUA SERIES PART 4: Diego

The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 4:Diego

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.

This part follows y/n blowing off some steam with Diego being a supportive brother.

You don’t have to read every single part as each focuses on the reader’s relationship with each of her sibings.

But of course to get most of the story, read the whole thing. Besides why would you want to miss out on Hargreeves Siblings content?

A/n: sorry if this took long to update, I lost the master copy of the fic document- well technically, I was and am typing this on an auto-save document but it had glich somehow and when I searched and open the file it was only the first 2 parts. It took a while to find back the most updated document.

WC:1028

DISCLAIMER: I DON’T OWN THE TUA SERIES. THIS IS JUST BY A FAN WOULD REALLY ENJOYED THE SERIES AND WAS INSPIRED TO WRITE.

*ALSO NOT PROOFREAD

>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

Your blood was boiling.

How dare Luther, your own brother accuse you of killing your own father.

Sure, your childhood wasn’t exactly the healthiest and emotionally suitable for a child but in a weird way your father had shape and trained the 7 of you to be at least somewhat in control of your powers.

Raising superpowered children is no small task.

Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized how far from the academy you had walked.

You stared at the city Harborview, imaging how your life would be different if you hadn’t had these powers.

Peace. That’s what you think you would have. A sense of peace, living a normal daily life- get up, go to work, hang out with friends, sleep in a nice cosy apartment and repeat. No powers.

The final words of Sir Reginald replays in your mind.

‘The end is near, get the others ……and save…..the…..tttiiiimmm’

The end is near, get the others and save the tim- whatever or whoever tim is.

You assumed that it meant his time was up and had wanted the family back together. You had done just that but what had that got you? Indictment for one. A family reunion consisting of 5 emotionally incompetent adults and one trapped in a kid’s body.

Leaning across the railing you shouted. ‘Cosplaying as batman at aged 6 was cute but as a grown ass adult lurking in the shadows is definitely a red flag!’

A chuckle sounded from the corner. ‘Noted m’mam. Will not do it again’ said a deep voice.

To an untrained ear, no sounds of footsteps could be heard.

You, however can as do your siblings. All of who can also identify who is coming based on the sound- each ever have a slight variation, a unique touch.

Luther has the heaviest, loudest footsteps out of everyone.

Allison- quiet and delicate.

Diego has a sense of purpose in his walk- no doubt like the secret agent and superheroes he had always wanted to be.

Klaus is a bit unpredictable; it is either too fast and energetic or soft and slow pace.

Five. He cheats, mostly blipping in and out of places. But if need be, he usually takes leaps or huge steps, always ready to teleport out of any situation in midstep.

Ben. The master of stealth. He always manages to take the least steps, the most effective route between hiding points.

Vanya though without training is actually very good. At times you wouldn’t even notice her near as proven in her countless times secretly watching the rest of you training.

‘I doubt that.’ Turning to face the new arrival. ‘You are the literally embodiment of Vigilante Hero Complex.’

The city lights illuminating his face.

‘Ah! Case in point!’ You pointed at his outfit. ‘You’re even wearing a spandex suit, Diego!’

Diego shook his head, brushing off your teasing aside. He was happy to at least help bring a smile onto your face- even if it was at his expense.

‘How you feeling?’ Even though you all were the same age, Diego can’t deny that the numbering hadn’t had an older sibling protectiveness to come over him- especially when Luther was being a total dick. If only he was in charge, he thought.

‘Better… better now that you’re here.’ You admitted, bothering your brother never gets old. ‘Thanks by the way-for the cheer up.’

You both stayed in comfortable silence it was not until 20 mins later did Diego break it by apologising.

‘Sorry for what?’

He didn’t reply instead he lifted something out of his pocket. It shone against the deep blue waves.

You gasped. ‘Dad’s monocle.’

‘I know Luther believes you took it.’ He let out an exasperated sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I should’ve have confessed instead you took blame for me….’

Wrapping his fist around it he continued, voice getting harsher. ‘I …I just couldn’t you know? After all he did to us? How he treated us? We were just kids!’

He clutched it tighter shattering the glass. ‘He was gone. This was the most valuable things he had- never let it out of his sight….so I thought that this….that by taking this, it would be the closest thing in ever hurting him.’

‘Oh Diego…’ You didn’t know how to comfort someone who is going through the same scenario, a same situation that you yourself need help on. ‘Dad is gone and…yes he wasn’t the most caring father. But the past is in the past, the only thing we can do now to move forward. Don’t let that define us. Strive to do better.’

‘We tried that once remember? And where did it get us?’ He countered.

‘Better than if we were to have stayed.’ You rebutted. ‘C’mon Diegs. Think about mom. Think about how she constantly reminds us to put our best foot forward, no matter what life throws at us..’

Diego’s face softens, he was always a momma’s boy.

Closing his eyes, he mutters an okay. Then he tosses the bloody cracked monocle into the water. ‘Now, why don’t we go stuff our faces full of donuts.’ You offered. ‘I can handle your typical brooding self but the 2 of us sulking? No can do, what we need is to eat our feelings.’

‘Giddy’s it is.’ Replied Diego, offering you his arm.

‘So I assume you parked 2 blocks from here?’

His eyes went wide. ‘How’d you-‘

‘PPPPlease!’ Rolling your eyes. ‘I might have subconsciously wander to this part of town, but I was conscious about a car not so subtly tailing me for 6 blocks.’

‘So you knew I was watching you from the very beginning.’

‘YUPPPP’ Popping the p. ‘At first I wasn’t sure who- nice car by the way, new?

‘A month ago.’

‘Anyway is wasn’t until you started following on foot til I knew.’

Elaborating when you saw his confused look. ‘You walk as if you’re the protagonist in an action film.’

‘I do not!’ He said defensively.

‘DO too!- Thanks.’ Settling down onto the passenger seat as Diego closed the door.

The debate lasted until you reach Giddy’s or so what was left of the store.

‘WHAT THE-‘

END OF PART 4

READ: [PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

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Would love to hear your opinion on the series so far too!

-Posting this a 2nd time, cause the 1st Tumblr error-ed out and deleted it.

also a bit of self plug here, i have a writing challenge going on and I’d love for you to join!

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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

Text

A Worthwhile Investment, chapter 2

Please enjoy this Shawn x Grant story. It is a part of my canon.

Thankfully, Shawn and Grant were able to sneak out undetected. Shawn knew the warehouse Norman had told them to meet at- the one Lacie worked in, roughly two blocks from the studio and not visible from it. From there, they called a cab to take them to a bar (as Norman had promised and Shawn had reminded him) and declared themselves safe.

“Uh, sorry the raid was a bust,” Shawn said.

“It wasn’t.” Norman held up a set of keys. “I can go anywhere I want in the studio now, whenever. And I saw Sammy Lawrence wearing a Bendy mask. I knew it. I knew he was a part of this. I’m gonna crack this if it kills me.”

“Sure you will,” Lacie drawled. “Mind telling us why this is your choice of hobby? Like, why are you like this?” Shawn could tell that she was using her friendly cold, judgmental tone, which was different from her genuinely cold, judgmental tone. He hoped Norman could, too.

“Like I’d tell you. What, you think I’d ask for your life story just like that?”

“I’ll tell it. I ain’t got nothing to hide. I was born to two crack-addicted pieces of shit, so I learned to rely on the parents of neighbourhood kids on days they decided not to care for me. It was like that basically my entire life before my sister sorted herself out and I moved in with her. But it taught me I could take care of myself, so I didn’t mind moving with Bertrum wherever he went, and I didn’t cry when he retired.”

“And it’s a good thing he retired, or I might not’ve met Lacie when ah did. Bein’ an immigrant, away from home for the first time an’ barely speaking teh language- it woulda been real lonely otherwise. Of course, Ah make friends easy, but I’m still glad she was one'a them.”

Lacie’s sharp eyes landed on Grant. They’d only met once before and neither had been too comfortable with the other. “And what about you, Grant? Anything interesting in your past?”

“Oh, no. Normal upbringing. Parents who loved me. Nothing special.” It was lame, but it was the truth.

The four of them kept chatting for about an hour.

How did I end up surrounded by the three strongest people I know? Grant wondered. Most of his friends growing up had been cousins or kids of family friends, and his social circle hadn’t diversified much since, until he met Shawn and Norman. Comparatively, these three were freaks. But they were all so respectable, and honestly, Shawn and Norman were some of the best friends he’d ever had.

Life in general had given Grant a lot to be thankful for as of late. The early thirties had been hard on him- after the stock market crashed, he’d gone through a job loss, the collapse of his marriage, some domestic abuse, his divorce, and losing custody of his children. But now? Things were alright. He had a new job, and the studio was, generally speaking at least, holding steady financially. Against all odds, his daughters seemed to be fine living with their mother- maybe she had been serious about working on herself for them. Grant cherished the time he did have with them, and though he hated to admit it, he was much happier divorced. And of course, now he had these two. It was while he was there, listening to the three of them talk, that he realized that he was currently the most content he’d been in years.

Shawn had had a few drinks by that point, and leaned on Grant as though he intended to fall asleep on him.

“I think I should take Shawn home. Norman, can we talk about something tomorrow? In the projector booth.”

“Of course,” Norman said. Something in the way he said it told Grant that he already knew what it would be about.

---

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Norman asked, as if he didn’t already know.

“It’s about Shawn,” Grant started. How much to say? He figured that Norman knew he was gay- very little escaped Norman’s notice, after all- but maybe Norman was only okay with that because he didn’t act on it.

“You know Sammy Lawrence?” Norman mused, looking through the window into the music room. “For a long time, he was dating his- very much male, I should mention- lyricist. I saw them making out once- this gorgeous pretty boy and this middle-aged marshmallow- I guess love is blind and all that. I’ve got no damning evidence of it, but I’d bet anything that Joey Drew is gay as well. And I could go on! This studio has more queer people than you would believe, and my powers tell me about more than just existential dreads.” There was a pause. Norman turned back to look at Grant. “So. As a living lie-detector, one of the best gaydars you’ll ever see on a straight man, and your best friend of over half a decade who would never betray you... you can tell me anything about what’s going on with him.”

Grant gave a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad you’re okay with this. And yes, I’m considering dating Shawn.”

“Great. He likes you- I could tell.”

“Thanks. But I already knew- he kissed me suddenly about ten days ago. I didn’t know how to react, and I kind of froze up, and I told him that I liked him, but I needed to think about whether we could be together. Up until last night, I thought I’d tell him ‘no-’ I just hadn’t had the willpower to yet. And then I had an epiphany.”

“What was the epiphany?”

“I realized that I respect a bunch of very unconventional people- yourself included- so it’s okay that I’m not perfectly conventional. But... even if it’s not inherently wrong, the idea of acting on it still scares me. If my mother ever found out, it would break her heart. My father would be humiliated if anyone else knew about it, and he might not want to speak to me again. And if it got to my ex-wife, she’d do anything she could to keep me away from my kids- she might even report me. I don’t have to worry about any of that if I don’t act on it. I don’t know... is it even responsible to risk it? These are people I have obligations to. Is it worth it?”

“Well, only you can choose that. But don’t you want a chance at actual love? I mean, I sure like having a loving partner. Why give that up over the risk that someone else might find out?”

“I guess you’re right. Shawn could be my only opportunity for a while. I really don’t know if I want to get involved in whatever culture gay men have going on. If the stereotypes are true, I’d be walking into a group of dangerous people looking to take advantage of a naïve outsider. Of course, they might not be true, but I don’t want to just walk in without knowing. And anyhow, I wouldn’t know how to find anything like that if I tried.”

Norman nodded, taking some time to process everything he’d said. “Alright. Look- you’re overcomplicating a bunch of simple problems by rolling them together into one big problem. Just take it one issue at a time. You want your family to be happy? Make them happy, and don’t worry about something that won’t hurt them. Any partner you might have will know that this kind of thing has to be kept secret, and New York is a big city- you can hide it. You want to date Shawn? Date Shawn. I can tell he makes you happy. You don’t want to get into gay culture without knowing what it’s like? Then don’t. I don’t know anything about their culture, but you have no idea how many gay men are here at Joey Drew Studios. Plenty of people you can ask about it to decide if it’s your thing.”

“Wow. Thank you. You really made that all sound so simple.” Norman had a way of cutting straight to the point.

“Yeah. You’re gonna be okay. Heck, even if you decide not to have a love life after Shawn, I’m glad you’ll be doing it because you’re risk-adverse and not because you’re still ashamed.”

“Thanks again. Now I need to go find Shawn.”

In the end, Grant couldn’t find Shawn before it was time to get back to work, so the next day he left a note in his locker with some flowers. Like a schoolboy. Ridiculous. But that was how Shawn made him feel.

Over the next few years, their relationship went on, and off, and on again. They fought, probably more than the average couple. But overall, they were glad to have each other. It was worth it.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #grant cohen #norman polk #shawn flynn #shawn x grant #my fanfiction

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wu-sisyphus-gang · 3 years

Text

Motion Sickness Chapter 62

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I kicked my feet up and I watched the striper dance before me. I took a long draw on my packed pipe and since Aurum was doing it, I tossed some bills on the striper. Why the fuck not?

She bent down low in front of me in pretty white bottoms. She had pretty blue eyes besides and a frilly matching white top. She danced in front of Aurum and I and he poured me a drink.

I took it from him with grace and sipped on the alcohol slowly, though faster than I might normally.

"No word on your mustached man," he told me. "I've been keeping an ear to the ground about it and I haven't heard a thing. If only you'd seen his weapon, man. Then we'd have something to go off of."

I grunted and nodded. I took a swig of drink.

"Can I get something sugary up here for Neo? Girliest, sugariest drink you have in the house. All the better if it has ice-cream in it."

Neo hit me in the side but smiled. She didn't disagree.

"One fuzzy navel coming right up," Aurum called out to a wait staff member who was passing by on the second floor of his club. The man nodded and took the order. Like all of Aurum's waitstaff the man was good looking. Stand out in a crowd good looking. Almost hunter angel-like good looking.

Aurum owed me. For killing Tyrian. Neither of us said it but mass murderers are bad for business, they brought the wrong kind of attention. He was paying me off with drink and women a little. Or trying to. I was hard to buy off with such trivial things. I wasn't saying I couldn't be bought with it. That seemed like a bit much. And the dancer was beautiful with those baby-blues. She reminded me of my first crush a little.

I was good for his business because I was so dangerous. Keeping me happy was good for his business because I was so dangerous. It was a razor that might cut one of us but for now he was happy and I was happy so why not drink with one another and party while I waited for my information to come in?

I'd already paid for it by murdering some of his enemies and he'd probably tell me about it as soon as he knew something because Cinder Fall was another murderer who wasn't interested in the drug game or playing the game like I was.

"Cloud, I still don't have any news on the others you asked me to watch out for. Cinder Fall or Hazel Rainart."

"Cinder Fall is probably not her real name anyways. Plus she could be working through some other associates. Emerald Sustrai or Mercury Black."

"I'll keep an eye out for them all the same. Did you learn what you needed from Avalanche?"

"I did. The General's project wasn't so secret after all. Hard to keep everyone in on something that large quiet."

"Fair enough." He said without asking me more about the project. He probably didn't care to know the details so long as it didn't affect his business ventures. "Come with me. Try some hyper," he said. He was trying to buy me off with drugs as well. He'd hooked me up with more greens. I'd paid a little but it was discounted.

"I don't know that I should. I already have some psychosis. That's what the weed is for."

"Oh it's not so bad. Just an intense rush."

"Isn't it a pro-psychotic?"

"Maybe a little. I'm not a doctor. Try some, you'll be fine."

I shrugged my shoulders. Fuck it. Why not? What was the worst thing that could happen if I did? I'd become a murderer? That ship had sailed, thanks. I'd become involved in the drug game? A bit late, thank you. An alien goddess would seize control over my mind, again? Maybe. But I couldn't live in fear of Mother all the time.

He cut out a line of the stuff and showed me how to inhale it.

I did. I pulled deeply into my nostrils and up into my sinuses.

I leaned back as the powder filled my nose and dripped down my esophagus a little. It hit my brain fast and hard. Aurum had been right. It was intense.

And it was a rush. I was zooming. My brain strummed like it was endlessly hitting a high wiry note on an electric guitar with an amplifier. Volts coursed through my veins in my skull. My arteries seemed to be full of odd amps. Like I'd been shot in the head by some kind of electric gun.

Bugs wiggled their way around behind my eyes more intensely than ever. I just didn't care as I leaned back into my seat once more.

I swear I could almost hear mother's voice over the din of the music in The Den. But only just. It wasn't bad now that I thought about it. Just a dull whisper. Just some bitch talking to me like she owned me.

What else was new?

My leg was moving restlessly. I felt like I was about to jump out of my skin.

Neo sucked on a long blue bendy straw next to me and on impulse I nearly took it from her hands and threw it across the room. I reigned myself in, though. There was no reason to do that. I just needed to sit back and relax… relax… relax.

My brain seemed stuck in a loop and I repeated that over and over in my head like a mantra. Relax… relax… relax… why wasn't I relaxing?

I drank and smoked some more. I drank like I was thirsty and I smoked like my personal stash wasn't running a bit low before I'd bought some more.

It felt damn good to over indulge and crossfade myself as thoroughly as I could.

"Well you're handling it well," Aurum said. "That was your first time, no?"

"It is. Was. Whatever." My heart beat fast and my leg bounced. "I want to kill something. Is that normal?"

"Depends. For you, probably. You're a killer."

I nodded. That made sense. It was hot in all my clothes so I stripped my armor off and set it beside Neo and I on one of the long couches.

I sat back and watched the dancer before me work as my vision came in and out. Blackening and refocusing.

It beat a steady tide in rhythm with my heart.

"Though there is one man in town who I thought you should know about." Aurum told me. I wasn't sure how he was staying so fucking calm.

"Oh?" I asked.

"Name's Adam Taurus. Old White Fang member. He's another killer. Caused the SDC problems for years."

"Want me to kill him?" My voice was much more calm than I felt. My heart was racing. My head throbbed in time with the music in a pleasant way. My eyes felt like they were going to pop from their sockets.

"Maybe. He's the sort who is also bad for my business. Idealistic. Unwilling to compromise. And he paints the town red wherever he goes."

"I could go for a fight right about now. Not sure it's a good idea. Neo, your thoughts?" She shrugged at me, then she shook her head to the negative. Thank you for that contribution Neo. Enlightening. "We'll probably end up passing. I'll kill him for a favor if you change your mind."

"I just might take you up on that." Aurum took a long swig of his favorite amber drink.

I followed suit and found my glass empty. It was quickly refilled by a gorgeous young redhead with a staff shirt on and long legs.

I stared after her for a long time.

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I came down with a headache. "Neo would you get me a glass of water." I bemoaned from my bed in our shared motel space.

She obliged. Fetching the water, then she poured it right on my face.

"Ack! Neo. Gods damn it." I was awake now if nothing else.

I sat up in the bed. I spat water from my mouth. I stood up and got my own drink of water. Neo could be so unreliable.

"You're such a bitch, Neo." I told her over my throbbing headache. I palmed my forehead and over one of my eyes.

"Why I oughta," I said it like a complete sentence with no real heat.

She blinked at me innocently and her eyes switched colors. She fooled nobody with that.

She had a cigarette in her mouth, the smoke from it was filling our shady apartment.

I wasn't sure which drug that I had partaken in the night before that was killing me. It could have just been alcohol. It could have been hyper. Either way I was thirsty enough that when I downed a glass, I followed it up with two more.

I could scarcely remember the night prior. Other than a soft warm feeling that followed my memories about it. Too much drink. Too much weed. Too much of everything. I probably wasn't going to try hyper again. I crossfaded myself hardcore. I rubbed my eyes firmly.

I looked over at Neo and really took her in for the first time. She wasn't wearing a shirt and was just in her brassiere and a pair of pink panties. I took her milky cleavage in for a moment before I looked down at myself. I was totally naked.

"Did we…?"

She rolled her eyes at me. A smirk on her face as she did. She reached over with her cigarette and put it out on my chest, nice and slow. She grinned at my pain. Her breathing rushed a little as I hissed. The tips of her breasts hardened and I noticed that the burn she left there was not alone. It had company.

"Neo, I'm damn well serious." I tasted my own lips with my tongue a little. It tasted funny. Was that someone else's lipstick or was my mouth just fucked from drinks and hyper? It tasted like lipstick. Neo was wearing pink lipstick.

"Did we or didn't we?" She just turned and began putting the rest of her clothes on. She spun and twisted a curtain into place between our two sections of room and beds as she clothed herself.

"Neo!"

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She refused to answer me. In any capacity. She just left it as it was which was well within her personality but was more than a little obnoxious from my end. Fuck her.

Sex with a demoness or not, and I was trying hard not to think about that, I still had other business to attend to. Like heading over to Avalanche headquarters.

We rolled up on the bar with Neo's arms wrapped around my waist. She held herself nice and tight to me for the ride. The absolute… I mean honestly...

"Neo you little devil," I said to her, looking forward. Neither of us were wearing helmets. Little point when we were both hunters.

It was on me for getting black out drunk and giving her the opportunity to hold it over me. Forever.

Plus if I really did do it I had a lot to feel guilty about. Wherever little Ruby Rose was she wasn't enjoying another's company like that. She was probably shattered to pieces.

She was probably in a lot of pain over me. I had caused that. I didn't deserve to cause her pain. But I had anyway. It made my chest ache to think about. It made me feel worthless. More worthless, that is.

Guilt rose up in my mouth like bile and it whipped at me like a switch. I didn't much like to think about that. But by all accounts we were broken up. I had no idea when I would even see her again. We were shattered, me and her. So what did it matter if I did have sex with Neo? Evidently it mattered to me. I didn't want it to have happened. I regretted that I didn't know.

It meant that Yang was right about me. One way or another her older sister instincts had been on point. She'd been right to keep me away. For more than one reason, probably. That made me feel like shit.

It also meant disappointing Weiss. I had long wanted her approval for one reason or another. That hadn't exactly changed. Her affectionate dawn smile with her hair down reflected in my mind for a moment before I imagined her looking at me with a cold hard apathy like she had so many times before. And I grimaced at so many memories of asking her out.

Besides, I should feel guilty about what I had done to Ruby. She was probably off saving lives while I was taking them like some common criminal or something. We couldn't be more different. She was an angel and I was a demon.

And I wasn't about to talk to Neo about that. Or have a one way conversation with her, at any rate. As much as you could have a conversation with Neo. About all of this.

I walked up to the bar and opened the door with a jingle of bells. I tried to roll my shoulders and undo a kink in them I'd worked into the muscle the night before.

Jasper was up behind the bar, washing the counter down with a cloth.

"Oh, Cloud… you're back!"

"I promised to train you guys a little. Where's the others?"

"They're out for a minute. There's a big player in town. Adam Taurus. He's causing problems for the union and with the miner leaders like Dyne."

"Dyne?"

"Just Dyne. No last name. He's one of the old miner leaders. Been around since the old days of the White Fang. He was always outspoken about union action over taking up arms. Or at least he used to be. He hates the Schnee name, now. His daughter was injured in a mining accident recently. Bisque is worried about what he and Adam will get up to."

"This is the second time I'm hearing about Taurus."

"He's problems. At least for us. They're working up strikes, which is a good thing. But they also have the potential to get violent. People could get hurt. Bisque is trying to stop things from escalating."

"Yeah but you guys are fairly militant. Shouldn't you be on board with Taurus?"

"We always plan our operations around not killing people. People always die with Taurus on the job. Always. He's got a red streak a mile wide."

"Guess that's why Aurum might want me to kill him. Not willing to play ball. And Wenge?"

"Leading a strike. Avalanche needs to stay involved in all of this if we want to be a player at all. I'm just holding down the fort because somebody needs to be looking after the bar. People might come by and have questions for us about the strike. We have to stay on top of information."

"Need me to kill Taurus?" I asked.

"You think you can pull it off? I know you're good but Taurus is also a badass. He's got some real power," Jasper said.

I thought of Tyrian. He was one of Salem's guard and I'd killed him. He was probably about as dangerous as hunters came. Barring people like Cinder who were also maidens and had some extra kick.

"I might be able to manage it. Difficult to say before I lay into him but it's a possibility. Aurum talked to me about maybe taking him down. I remember that from last night at least."

"What happened last night?" Jasper asked. She leaned forward on one hand which rested with her elbow on the counter.

"Drank too much. That's all. Nothing else happened."

Neo nudged me. I looked way down at her short ass. A calm smirk was on her face looking back up at me. One end of her lips turned up.

Shut up, Neo.

"You up for some training?" I asked.

"I can't." Jasper sighed. "I've got to man the fort. Think you can come by again later? Wenge should be by then too."

I nodded.

"Probably. I'm just waiting for some information to come in. Not much else is going on in my life at the moment. Running favors for my 'friends.' That sort of thing."

The door jingled again. I turned to look. It was the crossbow girl from before.

"Oh. It's you," she said with some derision at me. I could live with that. At least I was being remembered.

"Me." I agreed. Like it was a curse. Which it was in a lot of respects. Boy was it.

"I'm not here to talk to you." She looked away towards Jasper. "I'm here to talk about the strikes. You kicked this off by bombing the mind and shutting work down."

"Maybe we did, as far as Avalanche is concerned the strikes are a good thing."

"Not this close to the elections. It's too much unrest."

"You're just upset because the strike leaders aren't paying homage to Robyn. They don't care about another election cycle where nothing gets done to improve their conditions. Especially when Schnee himself is running."

"This isn't about that. If martial law gets declared it will push elections back."

"I know you're concerned about Hill's chances of winning. Maybe you should be out leading them instead of hiding away or whatever the Happy Huntresses are doing," Jasper told her. Crossing her arms over her chest.

"The Happy Huntresses are always fighting for Mantle."

"Yeah, on your time table. Not on Mantle's. The people want change and they want it now."

"You stirred them up. Your bombing caused this. The people were content to wait!"

"We didn't cause the strikes. You're looking for Dyne and Adam Taurus."

"Adam Taurus?!" Fiona was incredulous.

"Oh you haven't heard? Maybe the Happy Huntresses are out of touch."

"Don't be petulant just because I wouldn't help you with your bombing. Look at what you've done! Now Adam Taurus is involved."

"If you're scared of him-" Jasper began she was cut off.

"Only a fool wouldn't be," Fiona said. "Call off the strikes."

"No can do," Jasper said. "Wouldn't want to even if we could. Take it up with Dyne."

"Dyne is unreachable. He wants revenge against the SDC at all costs. We're hoping Avalanche is more agreeable. You have a network. You can shut this down."

"I told you we want the strikes." Jasper leaned forward into her words. "Live with them. Or don't. Better yet."

"All this because I wouldn't bomb them with you! It was a bad idea. Look at all the unrest it's causing. Ironwood might declare martial law. Who will win then? Not the miners. The military always backs the SDC to break up the strikes. People get hurt every time. Please. This has to stop. Only through elections will real change get affected."

"I disagree. I think we can get real change done by collective action."

"It never works. It'll end with them opening fire on the mob. It always ends that way. Dust mining is too important to stay shut down. The military will back the SDC because they need the dust."

"There's an oversupply with the embargo. There's enough dust to last months. The strike won't last that long anyways. Old man Schnee will have to give in and improve the working conditions."

"He never does. And the negativity too, it's drawing the Grimm."

"So what? That's exactly why they can't open fire on a crowd of protestors." Jasper refuted.

"So what? So what?" Fiona repeated sounding shocked. "So people will die. And what about people who want more than improved conditions? What about the levelers who want wealth and property abolished? You're giving them a platform."

"What if the levelers are right? What if wealth and property should be abolished. Look at the pain it causes."

"It's the foundation of our society with the Grimm at the gates!"

"Cloud, what do you think, are the Grimm that big of a threat? We've got the largest military in the world for a reason."

I had been watching the two with rapt attention as they ran down Mantle politics. To be honest I was learning a lot. Particularly about these levelers. They sounded a lot like the Anti-capitalists of back home in Vale.

"I think the Grimm are always a threat. More than the layman knows," I murmured.

"See, even the murderer agrees. All this negativity can't go on. If you don't shut down the strikes, then the military will."

Fiona turned at the door.

"Please," she begged. "Shut it down."

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-WG

#fiona thyme #rwby #ff7 #ffvii #motion sickness #cloud strife #jaune arc #neo #neapolitan #silentknight #jessie rasberry #neapolitan x jaune arc

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