#ask ic

O-oh, um...okay. Yeah. Yeah, let's go!

Take this!

BOLT BREAK KNOCKDOWN!!!

...

       Kissus 💕

"Why not tell me about yourself? Your query intrigued me and I find myself curious to know about you in turn."

Hmmm...that's a...loaded question ngl. 😅

Well, I guess I could just summarize it. I live in the Digimon District, a place where human essentially keep us trapped inside a giant wall.

wall of hope? more like wall of hate-

Anyway, I used to live in the Digital World, as we Digimon do. My home was the floating islands of the Gear Forest. It was a fun place for us to live. We just kinda chilled, ate, played, all the fun stuff, y'know?

Then the gate opened.

I got sucked through, and well...here I am.

I was terrified, obviously. I had no idea where I was or what the hell was even going on. So I hid. And that turned out to be the best decision of my life, 'cause that's how I met my best friend, BlackGatomon!

well, my new best friend

We hid for what felt like days, but eventually we ended up getting caught and rounded up like the others, and we were all held in a small section of the city until the wall was finished being built. Then they just kinda dumped us in there and...pretty much just let us do our own thing? I mean, yeah D-SAT was sent here to act as "police" (cuz they're mostly just harassing everybody), but we've managed to create our own society in a way.

And BlackGatomon never left my side. We both promised that we'd never leave each other, no matter what. Now we're both Ultimates and still living together after six years. She's actually the main reason why I go by female pronouns now. Just kinda followed her example at first, but I found I actually enjoy it!

hmmm what else, what else?

I like singing! Made it a career actually! Loads of Digimon like hearing me protest the D-SAT bullshit through my songs. I'd rather do that over fight them about it, honestly.

Wow, that turned out longer than I wanted it to. I do tend to ramble sometimes, sorry. 🫠

(   ✿   ) OR ELSE? Sounds like some type of threat. However, Mae is instantly smiling the moment his beloved is within sight. Collapsing onto his body with a sigh, Mae is happily humming and carding fingers through mess stresses with ease. “Well hello, my love.” The artist  muses, pressing a kiss to the top of the demon’s head. “Tired?”

(   ✿   ) HE EXPECTS A LOT OF THINGS AT TIS POINT, when it comes to visiting with August. He EXPECTS books and deep talks of the supernatural, or the request for the occasional cleanse or to sew this or that that had been previously ripped on some trips to unknown destinations. But certainly, he did not anticipate this. 

It’s not often he enjoys subject of attention to FOCUS on him. He’s a simple man who enjoys things to himself nor and would wish not to impart any type of strain to focus solely on him, because today was just a day of living, like any other day was. But it was apparent that August had other plans. A dimpled smile is sweet ‘pon his lips as a hand raises to cover his BUBBLING LAUGH. “It is?” The tattooist laughs, “well this is a surprise to me.” Not quite, but Auggie’s large smile that spreads on his face is enough for him.

OH GODS, and there’s a cake! When had his cheeks started flushing? 

“That sounds lovely, August. Thank you, really.” 

(   ✿   ) THEY SPEND DAYS AND NIGHTS TOGETHER. Sure he’s always loved his work, but their collaborative effort has INSPIRED the artist to want to be better. He has someone who relies on him and thus drives him harder and makes him fall back in love with art than he ever has before. Samuel INSPIRES HIM to be a better artist-- not only for his clients, but also for himself.

And in working together, they spend COUNTLESS HOURS in each other’s space. But more often than not, they are only working, sitting amidst each other in comfortable silence until a rumble from either of their stomachs prompted the desire for a dinner break. And usually, Mae would work THROUGH HIS HUNGER. His drive to completion and perfection typically outweighs any other desire to stop or to take breaks, but Samuel stops either of them and brings up the idea of food.

But Mae only accepts on the condition that he got to cook since they retreated to the elder’s home to work. So certainly, it was ONLY NATURAL that he took care of their dining. It’s something simple that remind shim of home-- recipe he figures can be made easy from the food he finds in cabinets and cupboards he’s unfamiliar with. And it’s no burden nor bother, ESPECIALLY when he has COMPANY over his shoulder asking (constantly) when he can be of any service because it is his house and Mae is the guest-- but he is declined time and time again. 

Dinner in company is something he’s missed. Especially when it’s GOOD COMPANY that causes corners of lips to upturn at the smallest of moments; such as when their gazes meet above their dinner and he’s praised for their FILLING AND TASTY meal. And just as Mae is lifting himself with his hands up from the table, he’s stopped immediately and with careful hands, pressed back down into his seat. “Samuel...” The artist breathes, shaking his head and allowing a chin to fall onto his palm, quick to frowning. “It is also your kitchen that I dirtied. That HARDLY seems fair.”

Raising from his seat to retrieve a dish towel, he runs it through his fingers. “How about you wash... and I dry, oui? SOUND FAIR?”