#but to be honest i just wanted to draw them in neat clothes and started to pull so called lore out of my ass while doing it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

genieofthebooks · 1 year

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hi i really really love your work ❤️ can i request a scenario that would show how george and the reader fall in love together? like all the little moments that lead to the realization, i thought it could be a good idea hehe no pressure tho. thank you again for your hard work ❤️❤️

The Little Things

Pairing: George Karim x fem!reader

Synopsis: The Little things that make George Karim fall in love with you.

Warnings: Fluff, Pining idiots, Kissing

1. First Meeting

You let out a nervous breath as you were anxiously wringing your hands together waiting for someone to open the door. It was cold and dark and now that you thought about it you should not have come this late. You stamped your feet together to try and warm yourself up being careful not to slip on the ice that had started to freeze on the steps. Cursing yourself for leaving without bringing any money or warm enough clothes as it was not snowing where you travelled from.

A tall black haired boy answered the door in confusion that someone would be ringing the door bell at Midnight. "Hello"

"Are you Mr Lockwood." He nodded and led you inside because even though he did not know who you are he wanted to get you out of the snow before you froze of hypothermia. Lockwood led you into the kitchen where you came face to face with a bespectacled and curly haired boy pouring over some sheets on the table.

Before you could stop yourself you started to apologise but it soon turned into rambles that both of the boys looked lost at. "I am aware that it is really late and not the best timing, sorry for waking you. I underestimated how long it would take to get here, so I did not bring any money for a hotel as I thought I would get here early afternoon for the interveiw but then the bus on the way here broke down and Then someone slipped and I had to help them get a hold of an ambulance because I did not want to leave them to die. I am really sorry"

"It's okay neither of us were asleep as we were stumped on research for an upcoming case. I'm Anthony Lockwood and this is George Karim" Lockwood said smiling at you softly to calm your anxieties, granted it wasn't the best timing but both of the boys couldn't deny that they have not arrived at a place too early or too late. They were hardly ever on time. And if Lockwood was being honest you looked like a lost cat that just needed some warmth.

"Speak for yourself. I was really getting somewhere with the research" The curly haired boy looked up at you trying to asses the midnight caller. But he was surprised by your bright e/c eyes that were flitting over the room in awkwardness and your h/c That was up in a neat low bun so it was out of your face if you were attacked by a ghost on your journey, your face flushed because of the cold and the snowflakes that were slowly melting in your hair. Lockwood smirked at the look on George's face as his hostility faded and became a look of something Lockwood could not place.

"I'm assuming you have all of your grades and a letter of recomendation" You nodded handing Lockwood the papers that were the only neat thing in your satchel. "Your Talent is sight and touch correct and it says here you are good at healing and fixing up injured people " You nodded again fiddling with the edges of the once white tablecloth that had notes and insults and drawing on it. Lockwood read over your letter of recomendation from your old employer.

"We definitely need someone who can do that because of how reckless you are" George muttered turning back to the papers on the table but sometimes lifiting his head lightly to look at you.

"Ignore George. The Job is yours if you want it. We will show you round in the morning but for now you can either stay awake with us or I can show you to your room." Lockwood held out his hand for a handshake that you gently placed your still freezing cold hand into and shook it accepting the offer. "Well Welcome to Lockwood and Co. Y/n L/n"

2. Your Kindness

You had been at the agency for a few months fitting into the boys dynamic quite well. Scolding Lockwood when he did something stupid, Helping George cook as both of you did not trust Lockwood near a stove, He once set fire to pasta that was in the pan. You were still confused on how he managed to make that happen. Making sure neither of them got seriously injured on a case. But there was one thing that the boys were slightly surprised by. Your Kindness. It was a complete foil from the other two.

One example is when you three were walking back from a case in silence as there were no Taxis to be found and you all felt the weight of exhaustion on your body's none of you could find the energy to talk.

It was early morning so people were starting to wake up, passing by a few night workers going home like you guys. A blind person was waiting with his cane opposite the you three teenagers who were ready to collapse. He started to walk when he felt the small knob underneath the button start to spin. His cane swiping across the road passing you three but you waited once you got to the other side to make sure he was okay but he was stopped by a fence that was in the way and was considerably far away from the safety of the path.

You immediately dropped your duffle bag and your rapier which landed on the floor (George's foot) with a crash and Ran over to him to help him. "Sir it is this way." He turned to the direction of your voice and he held out his hand for you to lead him gently in the right direction. The traffic light had gone green as no cars wanted to risk hitting you or the man. Once he was safely on the path he patted your hand in thanks before continuing on with his journey. You waited for a little while until he was out of sight before turning to the boys, Lockwood was trying not to fall asleep standing up. While George was looking at you with a fond look in his eye.

"Well done!" A driver shouted out the window to you as they drove past.

3. A gift

You came through the door of 35 portland row with a white box in your hands, kicking the door closed with your feet you met the eyes of your new friend Lucy Carlyle and Lockwood. You were glad to have another girl in the house not at all bothered that you had to share the attic with her. "What have you got there Y/n/n?" Lucy asked with a cup of tea in her hands as she was sat on the stairs for no particular reason and Lockwood had just come out of the kitchen.

"Something for George. Where is he?" You asked your arms getting tired from holding the box. Lucy and Lockwood shared a look both of them were tired of the dance of feeling that was occuring between you and George and one of you needed to admit it or they were going to lock you in a room together until it happens.

"Kitchen" Lockwood answered seeing the boy cook something before George shooed him out not wanting Lockwood to get in the way.

"Thanks" you nodded walking into the Kitchen and startling George by placing the box on the table with a loud thud. Causing the apron clad boy to turn around with a spatula in his hand ready to hit someone, probbably Lockwood you mused in your head. He calmed down one he saw it was you.

"What is that?" He questioned motioning to the box that you just threw on the table. Feeling cautious when you smiled at him. He normally loves when you smile but you have this smile reserved for things that you know something they don't.

"It is for you. It is an old box of comic books that I had in my room with my parents but they you know... So I cleared out the house with my uncle and found these and I thought you would like them."

George peered into the box and looked back up at you smiling in thanks that you thought of something to give him even when there was nothing special about today for him. He pulled you into a hug still having the spatula in his hand. "Thank you" He whispered into your hair.

4. A Nightmare/ First Kiss

It was after all of the events with Joplin and the mirror and You were sat in the kitchen alone with a cup of tea in your hand at three am. Staring at all of the comments on the thinking cloth trying to distract yourself from the images that presented itself in your dream. The images of George dead after looking into the mirror plagued your thoughts and you could not get rid of it no matter what you did.

George snuck into the kitchen because he could not sleep but was slightly startled when he saw your pajama clad form staring blankly at the thinking cloth, your hands slightly shaking as you held your tea on the table. "Hey what are you doing awake this early" He asked when he saw your head lift up from the table as you sensed another presence in the room, your shoulders relaxed slightly at the sight of him glad to see taht he was still alive. He pulled up the chair next to you and gently took one of your hands that were gripping the mug so tight he thought that it was going to break into his own and caressed his thumb over the ridges of your knuckles.

"Nightmare" you whispered. George felt his heart stutter because of how quiet you were even though you normally are a very quiet person there was a hint of saddness laced in your voice. "It was you. You were dead lying on the floor of the crypt and I couldn't do anything, I couldn't move" He placed your hand on his heart where you could feel the soft thud of his heart against your fingertips showing you that he was still alive and breathing. He lifted his hands up to your face and for a split second hesitated but the decided against listening to his head and to listen to his heart for once and pulled you into a kiss. He could taste the tea that you were drinking on your lips and for the first time that night you had relaxed fully.

There was a surprise for Lucy and Lockwood when they walked into the kitchen in the morning to see the two of you asleep at the table but your hands were interlinked. Lockwood gently hit Lucy who understood what he was trying to tell her and ran upstairs as quiet as she could to get her polaroid camera. To take a photo of the two asleep at the table, so they would remember this moment forever.

Sorry if it was not exactly what you wanted and sorry if it was not the best.

#george karim #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #lockwood and co #Lockwood and co x reader #George Karim x reader

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katabay · 10 months

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I'm going to be honest finding your account has sent me down a rabbit hole I did not expect to find myself in, yesterday I spent six hours, looking at all of your stuff and I'm absolutely amazed, I have no words. Your art and everything you talk about I'm absolutely fascinated in a very normal way I don't mean to sound weird. I was wondering if you had any thoughts to share with someone who's hating everything they draw and have lost the fun and passion when creating, I want to snap out of it.

I've been holding onto this ask for a minute because a few years back I went through a phase (I call it a phase, I fully intended never to pick up art again) where I also hated everything I was making

ultimately, what got me out of it was mostly doing other stuff. not even in a 'get a new hobby,' kind of way, I hated drawing in my sketchbook, so I started cutting out washi tape as clothes over old sketches and filling in the negative space between scribbles with highlighter and pen colors I thought looked nice. I went out to daiso, bought $10 worth of stickers, and started putting them where I thought it would look nice when I got the urge to do something but still couldn't bring myself to actually pick up a pencil.

if there's something that you know for sure you don't like about art, it can help to confront it and then go in the other direction. there were a lot of things I used to draw because I felt like it was expected, only I was unhappy all the time, and once I realized I was unhappy because I wasn't actually exploring what I thought was interesting about the subject holding my attention, it was sometimes easier to see what I DID want to do, I just had to acknowledge what I DIDNT want first.

that said, I still have an on-off again antagonism with myself and art, it's messy and it's always going to be that way for me, but whenever I feel stuck, I do try to change things up, or head off to a space that I feel has absolutely no expectations from me whatsoever. like. whenever I get really annoyed on my history blog, I actually turn to watching 2PM's vlogs on youtube. I have enough 2PM art in my sketchbooks I almost thought about making a dedicated HOTTEST twitter account lmao.

probably my last thought on this might be: try keeping two sketchbooks. nothing expensive. one can be something more serious, but keep a space just for yourself to fuck around in. don't draw in it unless you want to. put stickers in it, press flowers that you think look neat. buy some cheap water colors and see if you like the blues that you get out of it. it's okay to feel antagonistic towards art, but if you aren't ready to break up with it (and art will always be there if you want to go back, that's an important thing), I've found the straightforwardness of 'I like these stickers, so I'm going to put them on top of this square of blue I liked,' to be akin to leaving messages for someone you aren't ready to talk to face to face just yet, but maybe someday.

#idk if this was helpful but i am wishing you the world anon #(a lot of my current antagonism with art comes from expectations i feel other people have for me #and also this part of me that doesn't want to come across as cringe so i'll suffocate things i want to do for things i think will #come across more serious. usually tho i kill this impulse in its sleep because the joy of embracing whatever bullshit #captures my attention is so much more satisfying in the end #i will say part of what fixed a lot of it was allowing myself to feel angry that art wasn't what i wanted it to be #bc in turn it let me start to figure out what i wanted to do)#ask tag #actually hang on i have a. i have a photoset from a show that had a really good bit on creative burnout that might be #....comforting? maybe. i think about it often #i'll have to dig it up

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montammil · 9 months

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Playing Along, Part 1

This is a collab with @lucakairomi ! I had a lot of fun with this!! Luca belongs to @lucakairomi

CW: Parental whumper, female whumpee, description of gore and wounds, failed escape attempt, kidnapping, mentions/threats of drugging

Luca slowly comes to, her head pounding. Lights and skin and darkness dance. She tries to move her hands- rope stops her. It chafes. She blinks a few times, forcing the black spots to recede from her vision. What she finds is... well, unexpected, to say the least.

She's lying on a bed- a colorful bed, the kind she recognizes from magazines. Around the room- windowless, but spacious- are piles of stuffed animals, drawing supplies, as well as a large easel. A large beanbag chair sits in the corner, surrounded by what looks like chapter books- she knows some of the titles. The closet has a neat pile of folded clothes beside it. A children's room...?

She sits up with some difficulty, inching herself up against the headboard, and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. Her shoes are gone- the plush carpet feels pleasant under her feet. But more to the point... Lawrence. Right. He'd shot her with something... no wonder her legs felt like lead. Her head was still full of fog. Where had he taken her...?

She slowly slides off the bed and carefully regains her balance, grimacing at the ache in her neck. She tries to pull at the ropes, but they're tight- not enough to hurt, but enough that she won't be able to slip out of them without serious work. And she doesn't have time for that. Getting out of here is the priority.

She manages to twist the doorknob with her hands tied- it's unlocked, luckily. Bruefly she wonders what sort of kidnapper leaves the door unlocked, but she's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Creeping out into the hallway, she heads for the stairs, pressing herself against the banister and listening intently for any signs of movement.

She begins to walk down the stairs, her bare feet making no noise, her heart in her throat. She hopes... she hopes he's gone. She doesn't want to see him.

She reaches the bottom of the stairs without incident, and starts to creep towards what looks like the front door. It's right there, just a few more feet...

The lights flicker on.

"Luca!" a voice gasps.

She spins around, heart pounding.

Lawrence is standing in the doorway, one hand on the light switch. He's dressed neatly, wearing a sweater and jeans, and his expression is shocked. "What are you doing out of bed?"

Luca shakes her head, incredulous. "What do you mean? Why am I here?" Get as much information as possible. If he really is the Collector- and let’s be honest, if it wasn't obvious before it sure as hell was now- she's in a situation unlike any she's been in before. "And what's the deal with these?!" She gestures to her tied hands, letting a bit of the bitter betrayal leak into her voice. "You shot me!"

"Oh, Luca," he says softly, approaching her. "I'm so sorry about that." He takes her shoulders, steadying her. "I didn't want to knock you out, but you gave me no choice. You shouldn't be walking around like that." He gently turns her around. "Come on, let's get you back to bed."

She digs her feet in. "No! You have to tell me what's going on!"

"Luca..." he chides, and there's a warning in his voice.

She takes a step back, away from him. "No! No, I'm not going with you!" She's surprised by how even her voice is, when inside she's trembling.

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I can see I'm going to have to be a little more persuasive, then." He reaches behind his back, and when his hand reappears, it's holding a filled syringe. He sighs at her baffled expression. "I always keep them on me, for moments just like this. So you can continue to throw your temper tantrum, or you can make your dad's life a little easier and obey him."

Ingratiating herself with her captor was a slippery slope to Stockholm syndrome, but it was also the best strategy she had at the moment. It didn't usually work with regular goons (motivated by money) or... certain others (sadists) but Lawrence didn’t seem to be either of those. If she got into his head enough, maybe she could convince him to let her go of his own free will.

Not to mention that cocktail of drugs he had shot her with left her feeling a little less confident than usual about brute-forcing herself out of this situation, and she can't do anything while unconscious, so she takes a few more steps back. "Hold on- you- you don't have to do that, Lawrence. I'll- I'll come."

"Ah, see, was that so hard?" he asks, and there's a touch of smugness in his voice. He gently takes her by the arm and leads her back up the stairs, towards the room she woke up in.

Luca swallows. She needs to try and keep him talking- find out where he's taken her. She casts a glance at him out of the corner of her eye- he's smiling softly, almost beatifically.

"I'm not tired," she says as Lawrence opens the door to the room. "My- head hurts. And I'm uh- I'm scared. Where are we?" She lets a little of the fear she's suppressing color her tone- the better to garner sympathy, and she isn't sure how long she can keep up the calm facade anyway.

"Oh, Lulu," he says, and the words make her skin crawl. He gently leads her to the bed and helps her sit down. "It's all right, sweetheart. You don't have to be scared. You're safe here." He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "We're at my house."

Luca manages not to flinch away from the touch. From her short look around the house, the place is big, and presumably on a private plot of land, so Lawrence definitely didn't lack for money. She wishes she would have been wrong on that deduction.

Which meant her others were also probably correct- he had done this before. With two people, if not more. And they hadn't gone after him... well. She understood why. He was rich, powerful, and influential. And apparently extremely delusional, from what she could tell... "Is that why- you were so nice? You wanted to kidnap me?! I got too close, is that it?" Her tone is accusatory. "Why didn't you just kill me like a those other reporters who looked into your business, huh?"

Probably a terrible idea to tempt fate, but she was wondering about that. Why had he spared her? What was different?

Lawrence seems taken aback, and then sad. "Oh, no, Luca, of course not." He sighs. "I'm not going to hurt you, sweetheart. You're my daughter. From the day I met you I knew you were my daughter. You just didn't know it yet. But now, you do." He smiles. "And you're not leaving. You're never leaving. I need you to understand that."

Okay, he's... seriously delusional. Bad sign. Very bad sign. "Never? You mean- I'm stuck in this house like- forever?" Surely he didn't plan on keeping her imprisoned, right? That was impractical as well as, well- ridiculous.

He nods with conviction. "You're making it sound like a bad thing! I want to be there for you, Luca. I'm going to take care of you. You're safe here." He takes her bound hands in his. "There's nothing to worry about here. I'm not like those… other people you deal with regularly. Far from it. In fact, that's just another reason why I need to keep you here. To keep you safe."

Luca nods slowly, less out of agreement and more out of a dawning sense of cold understanding. "I... see..." The obsession with paternity and trauma from losing his wife has led to... well, this. Kidnapping young adults to be his surrogate children.

Definitely one of the weirder things she's seen in her line of work... "But I- I was doing okay before. I was safe." Well, "safe" wasn't the word she'd use, but it was manageable. It wasn't being stuck in a house with a potentially unstable man, at least.

Lawrence laughs, like he can't believe she'd claim such a thing. "Not from what I saw. You were throwing yourself into danger, Luca! You were always running into some bad situation! You're my daughter! I'm not going to let you throw your life away like that!" By the end of his speech, he looks genuinely angry and hurt. He runs a hand through his hair. "I had to save you. I had to take you out of that dangerous job, before you got yourself killed! I can't lose you."

He sounds... he sounds like he means it. Luca doesn't know what to say to that, so she falls silent for a moment.

Looking back to her, Lawrence murmurs, "I know I sound crazy to you, but I promise, everything will make sense soon." He sits down on the bed next to her. "Why don't you rest for now, sweetie? We'll talk again later."

Luca quickly grabs his hand, more out of impulse than anything. "W-wait! Don't go! I'm- I'm not tired, really." She won't get anywhere being stuck in here. Even getting a layout of the house was better than that. Besides- Lawrence's strangely genuine words had piqued her interest. Was he really that concerned after knowing her for a total of a few weeks, maximum? "I'm uh- hungry."

Not a lie, she hadn't eaten since before her visit to the college. Not that she trusted him not to drug her food, but if he had a syringe on him at all times it didn't seem necessary to hide it.

Lawrence seems to brighten up at this. "Of course you are! I'm sorry, I should have thought about that. I'll go get you some food." He gets off the bed and heads for the door, turning back at the last second. "Don't get out of bed again, Luca." His voice drops slightly, to let her know how serious he is.

Luca nods at that. She can practically feel his emotions shift from lighthearted to threatening. It makes her hair stand on end. She'd have time to see the house later- and not like she'd be able to do much while her hands were tied, anyway. "I won't."

After studying her expression for a moment, Lawrence nods and heads downstairs.

She breathes out a sigh of relief as soon as he's out of earshot. She's... not sure what to make of this. Lawrence is obviously obsessed with her, but she hadn't thought it went *this* deep. But she can use it. Maybe if she plays her cards right, he'll let her go.

She hears the sounds of cabinets opening and closing downstairs. It sounds like he's making something on the stove. She wonders what it is.

She looks around the room some more. The childish decor makes more sense now. Clearly he had some sort of belief she needed protection... even from herself, apparently.

But if there had been others here, they must have escaped somehow, right? Surely she could too- maybe she could get enough evidence here- assuming he kept that sort of thing- to put him away when she escaped.

Lawrence comes back up the stairs carrying a tray. On it is a plate with crêpes and strawberries. A cup of orange juice sits on the side. He sets it down on the bed next to her, then starts to cut a piece of the crêpe for her.

Luca stares at him incredulously. Before she can open her mouth to protest, he shakes his head.

"This will be easier if you just let me help you." His tone brooks no argument.

She shuts her mouth. Definitely not a fan of this. "My hands still work, you know..." Begrudgingly, she allows him to feed her a bite. It's delicious- apparently between kidnapping people the man had taken some cooking classes. She feels energy flood back into her body- the fog finally fades, snapping her mind back into focus.

Luca takes a moment to flex her muscles, before she channels her strength into her arms and snaps the ropes binding her wrists in two. She leans her head back then abruptly thrusts it forward, smacking Lawrence in the face with her forehead.

He stumbles away, the tray crashing to the floor, and Luca takes the opportunity to bolt out of the room and down the stairs.

Lawrence is close on her heels, and he lunges, grabbing her ankle and yanking her to the ground. Her chin smacks the tile, and she feels blood in her mouth. Before Lawrence can grab her more firmly, she kicks him in the face and continues running.

"Luca!" he yells, fury evident in his tone.

She makes it to the front door, twisting the knob frantically, but it's locked. She hears Lawrence coming down the stairs, and she curses, scanning the room for another escape route. There's a window that looks like it leads to the backyard, so she grabs a nearby lamp and smashes through it. She ignores the shards of glass digging into her palms and climbs out, wincing as a few pieces dig into her feet.

The yard is large and grassy- she can't see any houses nearby. She runs into the trees, hoping that maybe she'll find a road if she goes far enough.

After about twenty minutes of running, she slows, panting. She listens carefully- the forest is quiet.

No sign of pursuit. Maybe she lost him... she sags against a tree, heart pounding. She can feel the glass in her hands and feet- she's probably leaving a trail of blood, which isn't great.

She scans the area- no sign of anything, and she has no idea what direction she's going. She doesn't even know what state she's in.

She sits down with a huff, wiping the sweat from her brow. She'd take a minute to rest and then go looking for help.

If she could just find a main road or something, she'd be able to figure it out from there.

But, from the looks of it, there could be no roads for miles. It looks like Lawrence took her to a secluded house in the middle of the woods. She sighs. "Of course."

She considers her options. Keep going, injuring herself past the point of being able to walk, for a road that might not exist... and a very VERY pissed-off kidnapper... or give up, and wait for a better opportunity. He couldn't keep her in the house forever, eventually one of them would have to leave for some reason.

And although she hated to admit it... she didn't want to leave yet. Not before she knew what had really happened to those other kids. Escape now, and he'd get off scott-free.

Probably find her again- or worse, someone less equipped to deal with this type of thing. So, against every nerve in her body, she stands, wincing, and steps out from behind the tree with her hands in the air.

Her palms are bloody- wielding like this will be painful, if not impossible. Probably should have thought about that before she went through the window...

Quickly, Lawrence sprints over. Blood is dripping down his nose, and his expression is furious. He doesn't say anything, instead taking her by the arm and marching her back towards the house.

"God, I can't believe you, Luca." He shakes his head. "And now look at you! Look what you've done to yourself!"

She winces as he tightens his grip, but says nothing.

He drags her all the way to the kitchen, where he plops her in a chair. "Sit. Don't move." He leaves for a moment, returning with a first aid kit and bandages. "I'm gonna take care of you."

He dabs a wet towel over her palms and fingers after removing the glass. He takes one hand and cleans it carefully, placing a bandage on it.

"Why'd you call my name? You had the opportunity to leave and you chose to come back to me, still." He moves to pluck the glass from her feet next. He smiles slightly. "You don't actually want to leave me, do you?" It was presented more as a statement than a question.

Luca grimaces at the pain, gritting her teeth as she replies. "You get kidnapped once and it isn’t normally a mistake you make twice." Half excuse, half true. Normally she'd have been dead by now.

He exhales through his nose. "I guess I should be glad you didn't make the same mistake twice." He finishes cleaning her feet. "But you shouldn't have tried to escape at all." He wraps her hands and feet, then places the first aid kit aside. He looks over at her, studying her. "But... I am glad you came back."

To her surprise, he goes to the kitchen, even turning his back to her, to wash off his own face, from the bloody nose she gave him.

"Luca, I want you to listen to me," he says, as he washes his face. "I don't want to have to knock you out again, but if you keep acting out I will. Do you understand?" He dries his face with a dishcloth. "If you ever run away again, I won't take it well. You don't want that."

Luca flexes her hands and winces. "Yeah... I don't. Sorry." Not for escaping, obviously- that was a given. She actually felt more guilty about giving him a bloody nose. He hadn't manhandled her or anything, after all. She's been treated worse for far less.

He turns back towards her and sits down. He seems to be calming down. "I forgive you, kiddo. You're just scared and confused." He pats her head. "You must be exhausted. Why don't you get some sleep, and we can talk more when you wake up?"

He probably won't fall for the food excuse again, and her feet and hands are still stinging. The energy from the few bites of food she had eaten had pretty much been wasted on her escape attempt, and as if to punctuate her point, she suddenly yawned, the stress of the past few hours abruptly hitting her like a truck.

Lawrence turns her towards the room, but stops her at the door. "One last thing- I want you to think about your behavior today. You disobeyed me, and you put yourself in a lot of pain." His smile disappears. "If you do it again, I'm not going to be so lenient, Luca."

Luca feels his aura shift, turning cold. She shivers. Delusional... and dangerous. She'll have to tread carefully- obvious won't cut it. "Okay."

He nods, satisfied, and opens the door to the room. "Get some rest, and then we can talk about the house rules tomorrow." He kisses her forehead and then closes the door, the sound of a lock clicking unmistakable.

Luca grimaces, and hobbles over to sit on the bed. She glances at her bandaged hands, then back around the room, then back at the door. Lawrence was strange- violent one moment and calm the next. He almost seemed normal, of not for the kidnappings... and the murders... and, okay, he definitely wasn't normal, but maybe he could be...? Sighing, she flops back on the bed and stares at the ceiling. Thinking later, sleep now. She has a feeling she'll need all the rest she can get.

#lawrence oc #luca oc #cce collab #parental whumper

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vagueandominousvibes · 1 year

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omg for that ask meme... okay i find your attention to clothing design super super fascinating, and it makes me wonder if you have a theater background? especially like period pieces, with costumes that evoke certain eras? i like how warm and cozy your art always looks and the fact that it's inked by hand. that shit is SO HARD, are you kidding me? no undo button! i look at the expressions you draw and can just TELL that you likely make them with your own face when you're trying to figure them out on paper. they always look so natural, and it's honestly amazing how well you distinguish the different four swords guys given the fact that they are visually very similar in the manga. you give them personality just through the subtext of their appearances in a really neat and endearing way.

your writing gives me similar vibes where it's like, either you've immersed yourself in certain historical genres and aesthetics for practical reasons, like being in theater or studying them in school, or it's purely through the power of hyperfixation that you're able to channel them seamlessly into your work. either way, i admire it so much. i love how you created an entire world and magic system and tense political environment for the fsaa one-shot, despite it being. a one-shot, as far i know? it adds so much richness and depth to the character beats, and could totally work as original fiction. i still want to hang out in that tavern you described it would probably have bitchin fresh bread

okay i'm stopping now i just love getting an excuse to praise people's art in very specific ways !!

Oh wow, thank you so very much, Sam!! I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting this much in response to the ask meme, but I'm absolutely delighted by it <3

To make it easier for myself, I'll break it down and answer point by point:

Do I have a theatre background? Well, not really. Not unless you count script writing, 4 years worth of D&D, a 3-day improv course I did once, and some basic stuff we did in school one winter. I think I would've loved to be more involved in theatre — either as a writer or as an actress — but at the moment I'm not. That said, script writing and acting have relatively little to do with costumes and designs. When I design clothing for characters, I have two rules in my head: it should tell the viewer something about the character; and it should be practical. That last bit is particularly important. One of the main reasons I started the LiWiAU was because I was annoyed by how impractical some of the LU Links' designs were, and I guess that's carried over into the FS designs (especially the Knights Lodge AU). That's not to say my designs are perfectly practical or deeply researched, but it does mean that I try to make the outfits as plausible and useful as possible. In terms of armour, I frequently default to my partner's superior knowledge and research actual medieval armour, but when it comes to things like winter clothing I have a lot of first-hand experience with it from Scandinavia.

Yup, inking is a one-way street! I also don't have backup sketches or copies, so if I make a mistake, I have to find ways of covering it up or distracting from it!

True! If I'm struggling with an expression, I do try to replicate it on myself to figure out how it works. This actually goes for anything, from expressions to full-body-poses, and it's not unusual that I pause in the middle of a drawing session to figure out what I'm doing.

Thank you so much! I really enjoy making the FS boys look similar but distinctly individual, and I'm so glad that comes across.

So when it comes to writing certain time periods, I'd say that's 50/50 hyperfixation and studies. The particular one-shot you're referring to is partly Dickensian, partly Austen-esque, and I did study both Dickens and Austen, as well as their respective context, in uni, which has given me some insight into the general culture at the time. (I also studied a number of other texts in that approximate time period, which has given me more to work with.)

I still don't know where the world for that one-shot came from, but I think I'm as deeply fascinated by it as you are. I'd love to explore it further one day, either as a fanfic or as original fiction.

#kalh answers #this was so much fun to answer and talk through!!#thank you so much for this <3

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noroi1000 · 2 years

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Hii, i saw that your matchups are still opened so can you please do a romantic match up from jjk?

I apologize for it being so long

I'm a female i go by she/her and i have a male preference I'm 20 years old my mbti is infp 4w3 my zodiac is libra

Appearance: I'm 171cm or 5'6ft tall, i have a pretty lean hourglass figure. Long wavy brown hair, with brown eyes, honestly I'm pretty much pale

Likes: nature, long car rides, late nights when the city is asleep and dogs (i have a large rescue that i love)

Dislikes: injustice, busy cities and animal abuse

Hobbies: hiking, drawing and sewing (i make my own clothes since I can't find anything in my style here and shipping takes forever where I'm from)

Among my friends I'm either the mom friend or the one that's overly protective depending on the situation. I'm more of a quiete speaker, but i do voice my opinion and i talk for those who can't (sometimes some of my friends get really ashamed about normal things so i stand up for them). Also if anyone ask for an option I'll tell them honestly, I don't sugar coat or lie just to make them feel good. I'm not offensive I'm honest.

My love language is words of affirmation and quality time, but i do appreciate if my partners love language was quality time or/and physical touch.

Thank you so much and please take your time

I think your Jujutsu kaisen matchup is

Megumi is a quiet and introverted boy who gets pissed and irritated easily. But despite this, he is very sociable, which may come as a surprise.

Even though he doesn't have very many friends, nor does he like many people, he is someone who wants someone by his side. Friends, relatives. He's worried about them.

He doesn't tolerate rudeness and being mean. Such behavior is not tolerated by him. (even if he admits that he has a terrible character)

He loves people who are nice to him. Even if he may show that he doesn't care or doesn't like a caring person, he is not.

Megumi is stubborn and rejects those emotions that he likes being looked after. He worries and cares for other people just as he cares for them.

He doesn't show it, but inside the storyteller likes someone very nice. When someone treats him gently. He is very fond of such people and would like to see more of them in his life.

He doesn't have many friends because he doesn't talk much in public. He is ashamed.

When talking to friends (as long as he would start a conversation with them), he will be quieter. But when someone talks to him, he will reply immediately. He would respond as well when he gets pissed or irritated. He will simply say his opinion and will not accept if someone keeps telling him that he is wrong. He may be wrong, but for him his reason cannot change. He thinks so, and no one can tell him to start thinking otherwise.

He really does look at justice. It is an important part of life for him. Everyone deserves something, no matter if it's good or bad. No one should avoid justice. He understood this by the loss of loved ones. Or rather, by leaving it.

Even if he does not show it, he is very caring for loved ones and would give everything for them. It is important that someone stays with him and does not come. So that he did not have to lose loved ones. Not again.

Headcanon:

• Calm. Just spending time alone. Together with you. Without spending unnecessary time and wasting it in large groups of people. After all, no one wants to feel overwhelmed. Cities are crowded, and often you can't find something suitable.

He likes being with you in quieter places best. Where he can listen to you and be at peace. Without screams, which are often unnecessary.

In a place where he can be himself.

• Park, sitting at home. It is all so nice for you, and not so boring at all. After all, who said that you can only sit there and do nothing.

You can write, read or something else. And he likes to keep things neat. As well as various household activities.

You can do anything you want and he will do something next door. Silently arranging something, preparing a meal, or something for you.

Sometimes he also sits with you watching you sew and talks to you. Not to distract you, but to have a good time, not in silence. After all, everyone is fed up with it sometimes. A little conversation never hurt you.

• Home, walks in the woods or in the park. That's what he likes. If you want something else you can say it. But nature for him is also reassuring. Giving it energy and freshness.

Besides, he, as a man whose life is connected with animals, must like it. Walking dogs, looking at wild birds or other animals that live their own life in the forest.

• Basically, he would never let you walk in the woods at night, even when he is with you. He just would have to be stupid to put you in any danger. It's dark at night and you can't see the road well.

He may go for night walks with you, but not into a forest where there are many trees and you may fall over.

Walk in the park, the sea. In lit places. It is always empty because there is no one outside at this time. You have space for yourself.

• Spending as much time as possible together. Holding hands or hugging.

So that he can say at any moment that he loves you.

"Even with me, take care of yourself. But I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Just the two of us. No people to disturb. Let's spend our time as often as possible."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x you #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen matchups #anime matchup #megumi #fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro megumi

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many-gay-magpies · 2 years

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MAGS YOUR ART IS SO GOOD WTF. WTF. YOUR SUNGHOON ART I AM SCREAMING ON THE FLOOR IN TEARS. THAT JUNGWON PIECE FROM RECENTLY OH MY GOD. i love how soft your artwork looks !! and VERY NICE WOLFBAT I THINK HE IS VERY NEAT

i actually used to hang upside down from monkey bars and things bc it felt nice on my back tbh its so nice and my posture is ALSO shit! my friends tell me i look like a human question mark! THE IMAGE OF SOLON STARING DOWN AT THE PILE OF LIMBS AND TWIGS AFTER JAKAH AND NOA FALL DOWN IS PRICELESS. HED JUST “i don’t believe in god but i believe that’s karma”

truly pretty privilege is So Real because exactly the boys would get pardoned for so much weird shit just bc they’re cute- see the previous headcanon of jino with burn scars. if we’re being honest that would freak the hell out of anyone (i wish it didn’t, people should be more accepting of scars </3) because it’s jino suddenly he’s got a tragic heroic past that makes him ~so romantic.~ no one questions that noa is literally draped over the rafters in the hallways. solon just straight up disappears for a week every month bc of the full moon (he’s under the blankets trying to not go full wolfy all week). jaan literally bodyslams his brothers when they get annoying like these bitches are WEIRD

i love the idea of them having glowing eyes as they pace in the hallways at night- i can see it creating an urban legend that decelis’s administrators hires these Creatures to catch students who leave their dorms past curfew. i wonder if anyone would be able to figure out one of the “phantoms” is solon- since he’s odd-eyed, it can’t be That hard to put two and two together

-vrvr anon

AAAAAA THANK YOUUUUU I AM. ALSO CRYING. i really like working in that sort of color-blocky, soft, lineart-less style, so it makes me so happy that you like that about it shfjbfjfng ;v;

im vv proud of that jungwon one i think (conceptually and process-wise at least) it may be one of my favorites ive ever made .. it was just so FUN and i made it in a complete creative fever at like 2 am or something after very suddenly drawing a connection between that jungwon shot and the fallen angel painting. like i wasnt even planning on doing anything artistic that night but then all of a sudden i Had To Make Art Out Of It.

also ill tell you a secret (that isnt really a secret because ive told multiple people and made several posts about it already): i am currently working on a far more detailed heeseung art piece ... its coming along very well so far and im very happy with it !! all the facial features and clothes are done and im just stuck on the hair now—im determined to actually FINISH it and not just abandon it like i have some pieces in the past (theres this one sunoo piece that i started and got pretty far into last year in may after carnival era... and i have not touched it since. i WANT TO. but i was new to digital art at the time and used a strategy that took, to put it plainly, Way To Much Fucking Time, and in order to complete the piece with consistent style id have to keep using that same strategy and im honestly going to avoid that for as long as possible)

okay now on the subject of vampires . omfg LITERALLY the vamps probably do so much shit that would not fly if they were your average growing, acne-ridden teens... they are, fundamentally, the weird kids of decelis, but nobody notices because they're both jocks and attractive and i bet it drives all the people that ARENT attracted to them up the wall to no end. like maybe theres a scenario where a new student transfers to decelis like sooha does, except theyre some variety of aroace and completely immune to the brothers' "charm". and they come into the school with basically all their classmates aggressively simping for this group of seven dudes and it piques their curiosity a bit, because what's so special about these guys to get the entire school population in love with them? then they actually SEE the brothers and theyre just like. what. because yeah they ARE objectively pretty attractive and theyre good at sports and stuff but also theyre just. DORKS. and the student is like these guys? really? yall are simping for these guys? damn. okay

in a world where the decelis authority ARENT aggressively anti-vampire and actually let the brothers into the school to PROTECT THEM... maybe the staff are all perfectly aware of who the "phantoms" wandering around the school after hours ARE but they dont do anything to stop it because it discourages the other students from breaking curfew. and i imagine someone figures it out at some point—either a student comes across one of the "phantoms" for the first time after only hearing rumors of them and screams a little out of fright, only for heli to step out of the shadows and be like "omg im sorry i didnt mean to spook you im just taking a walk." or yeah like you said a student sees a phantom with one yellow eye and one blue... then sees solon in class the next day... and cue the "oh yeah, its all coming together" meme LMAO

#asks #anon 📝#vrvr anon #dark moon nonsense #dark moon

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blueprint-han · 3 years

Text

soothing — lee felix.

pairing — felix x (gn) reader

genre — fluff.

word count — 1.9 K

warnings — the reader has hair long enough to braid, other than that,

note — husband felix brain go bzz bzz <3

“Whoa—” Felix immediately lifts his coffee cup into his hands when you plop down headfirst on the sofa right next to him, groaning in relief as the soft couch fabric surrounds and engulfs you. You throw your bag onto the floor, squirming your way out of your coat before doing the same with it. Felix giggles, the motions you’re adopting to try and not move from the couch but still get yourself a bit more free looking way too funny to the other person.

Your hair is out of it’s ponytail that Felix had surely seen you leave in, and completely disheveled, as though to prove how tired you truly are. Placing his coffee cup on the center table, he scoots closer to your sprawled out figure on the couch, biting his lip to hold back his laugh, but failing to do so.

“Hello to you too, welcome back!” He says all happy and smiley, which you can clearly hear in his tone. His voice instantly brings you some calm, and you sigh, pulling yourself out of your comfortable position to give Felix what seemed like the most adorable expression your husband had ever seen. Your shoulders are slouched yet they seem stiff, as though you’ve been housing tension in them all day. There’s a pout on your face, directed towards Felix for indirectly making fun of your actions, but he knows it’s not serious.

“Hey, I’ve had a terrible day today. Cut me some slack.”

“I can see that,” Felix points out, reaching out to push away the hair that falls over your face and restricts your eyesight. Your eyes immediately flutter shut, and you lean into his touch, almost landing headfirst in front of Felix’s lap if he hadn’t started giggling again in that awfully serotonin-inducing tone and propped his hand against your forehead.

“There, there. Why don’t you go to our room and sleep for a while, hm? We’ll order takeout today, if that makes you feel better.”

Mm, yes. Pizza. Comfort Food.

“That sounds good…” You smile dizzily, still resting the weight of your head against Felix’s hand. Then, you open your eyes, meeting his soft ones and let yourself admire the beauty of your husband for two seconds. He’s been growing his hair long nowadays, and that long hair is tied into a neat ponytail behind him. His smile is as bright as ever. It’s the kind of smile that makes you want to cry and tear up, but also makes your heart flutter whenever it’s directed at you, or literally anything.

His eyes twinkle when they meet yours, and you let your eyes trail over the freckles littering his skin and nose. He’d still be in his makeup most of the times when you’d get home, so this sight is definitely an invited one. You had to admit — to you, there was nothing more beautiful than Felix’s beauty without any makeup, or filter, or editing. He was best when he was himself, his smiley, cute, adorable self. The only one who could make you feel calm without even doing anything, the only person who could make everything seem better with just the smallest gesture.

The only person who made your heart flutter the way it did right now.

You breath in before leaning closer to him, giving him an expression he knew very well. Even after two years of marriage, he could still never not melt whenever you gave him puppy eyes, or whenever you tried to act cute for him to give you something.

“Okay, I know that look-” Felix shakes his head and laughs heartily, leaning toward you too and squishing your cheeks.

“Pleaseeeeee~” You drag, scrunching up your face in the way you knew your husband would give in to your advances. “I’m tired and plus you petting my hair whenever I fall asleep on your lap is very soothing.”

“Okay, but only on one condition — you go change and freshen up before that.” Felix points to your formal clothing, and you huff in disapproval. “Not going to lie, you smell- kinda.” He makes that cute scrunchy face that you can’t help but malfunction over, even though he’d just teased you.

“Alright, fine.” You roll your eyes playfully, getting off the couch and slouching your way to your shared room, letting yourself change and wash your face. It does make you feel a lot less tense and relieved, but all in all, more excited to fall asleep on your husband’s lap. His touch is always gentle, like a violin bow sliding off it’s strings to produce gentle, calming music.

When you come back, Felix has already cleaned up the couch, the blanket that was sprawled on it now neatly spread for you to tuck yourself into. Obviously, this wasn’t your first time falling asleep with Felix on the couch — it happened more often than one would think it would, to the point where Felix insisted there always be a pillow and a blanket on the couch. The pillow is placed against his lap, and he’s already finished his coffee up and scrolling through his phone.

When he feels your head softly land against his lap, he smiles to himself, placing his phone away and immediately tangling his fingers into your hair as you pull the blanket on top of you, tucking it under your chin and snuggling yourself all warm and cozy against him.

“There, doesn’t that feel a lot better than slithering around in your work clothes?” Felix asks, placing another hand on your thigh to rub small circles into it.

“Yeah, it really does.”

When Felix starts running his hands through your hair and drawing soothing patterns on it, your whole body immediately feels like it’s melting into the couch. The warmth from the blanket combined with the magic his hands possessed was enough to push you into a deep slumber, until a question pops up in your brain, and halts your train to slumberland.

“When was the last time you braided my hair?” you ask, any signs of your sleep vanished all of a sudden.

“Huh- that’s sudden.”

“Just something that I remembered.”

“Hmm, I guess it was in the early time of our marriage? I don’t remember doing your hair after that, to be honest.”

“Ooh!” You perk up, turning to meet Felix’s gaze. “Why don’t you do it now? I’ll get the comb! One second-”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Felix pushes you back onto his lap, smiling brightly at your eagerness. “What happened to hey I’ve had a terrible day and I'm tired?”

“Like I said, your hands in my hair is always soothing, plus, my hair's a mess and braiding it would be better.” You push his hand away, running over to your room to fetch the comb before scurrying back to him. You sit down at the couch in front of Felix, pushing the comb into his hand and facing forward.

Felix smiles fondly at you, his heart pounding at your excitement for something so small. He’s lucky to have such a wife, really. A person who knows him truly, a person who loves him for who he truly is on the inside, and a person who can always find happiness with him in the smallest things.

As for you? You’ve lucky to have such a husband. Such a bright, outgoing, empathetic person. You’ve been really blessed to have someone as pure hearted, kind and lovely as him. You’ve been blessed to be the woman he finds his happiness with.

“Okay…” He runs the comb through your hair, and owing to its effect, instantly, your eyes flutter close when he places his hand on top of your head. There was something so exquisite about his touch, it was so soothing. It was like a soft feather running against your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake but always led you to feel relaxed.

Once Felix has smoothed down your hair, he begins braiding it, and you're already half asleep at this point. It’s like a warm cocoon of love and pure adoration for each other is surrounding the both of you, lulling you into the blissful intimacy of just being with each other and sharing this comfortable silence.

You can hear Felix’s laugh and it pulls you out of your trance. You then realise that you’re almost close to falling asleep on Felix’s knee — clearly, you were still sleepy regardless of your excitement.

“Y/N, you’re leaning to the side.”

“Didn’t I say your hands were soothing?”

Felix blushes. He still can’t help but feel shy of your reaction to his touch even after so long, especially when you’re so direct and open about it. He ignores the heat rising up to his cheeks, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your hair and forehead before combing through it again and gathering your hair into a ponytail.

“Okay, just stay straight until the first two plaits, and then you can sleep.”

“Mmmm, I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep myself up for so long though. This feels nice…”

“Y/N, come on!” Felix slaps your shoulder slightly, feeling himself blush even more. Of course, you can’t see him because you’re facing forward, but you can sense the overly chirpy, bright tone he’s speaking in. You’d be the first to know about your husband that he gets very shy when he’s praised for anything.

“Okay, okay fine. But do it quickly.”

Felix hums in reply before running his hands through your hair one more time, gently crossing the sections of hair over each other over and over again. The room is filled with a soft, quiet comfortable silence — one that Felix loves a lot. He wants nothing more than such soft and pretty moments, such lovin moments with his wife.

As he braids, your body leans more and more to his knee, and by the time he’s done, your cheek is pressed cutely against his thigh, your eyes closed shut in slumber. He quickly ties the end with a hair tie, and silently stares at your calm figure snoozing on his knee.

“So cute…” He thinks, not being able to hold back his smile as he lets himself admire your sleeping figure for a quick moment, before mischievously poking your cheek.

You whine at the intrusion, squirming around and you’re almost about to fall asleep again if it isn’t for your husband being a little shit, poking at your cheek again.

“What is it?” You whine louder this time.

“You’re gonna sprain your neck.” Felix says as a matter-of-fact.

“Ugh, okay fine… you’re gonna have to give me more of your ramen for disturbing me.” You pout, lifting yourself up before crawling into the blankets and lying down on Felix’s lap again.

“Hey! Who’s the one who ignored their sleep and got their poor husband to braid their hair?”

“You say that like you weren’t just blushing two minutes ago, sunshine.”

Felix has no words for that, and ends up stuttering. You giggle in victory, tucking yourself into the blanket once again before fluttering your eyes close. You bask in the calmness of the surroundings, letting yourself revel in the feeling of warmth that seeps through you.

Except, one thing’s missing.

“Hey!” You call, snapping your husband out of his admiring gaze. He doesn’t know when he got so engrossed into admiring your beauty, but nonetheless, he can’t stop himself from feeling warm internally when you pout once again.

“Your hands.” You rub your head against where it’s rested against his thigh, a frown on your face due to the lack of, to quote you, soothingness.

So cute, Felix thinks again in awe, tangling his fingers into your hair before finally, finally watching you drift off to sleep peacefully.

networks: @inkidz @kpopscape @kdiarynet @fluffyskzclub @destinyverse @skzwritersclub @kwritersworld @lovesick-net

taglist: @cafejjunie @sleepylixie @coco-riki @stayndays @yutassecretheaven @lost-midnight-flower @p2q3r4 @anskiie @happiestgirlontheeastcoast @cuddlychrisbang @orphic-chan

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lillabeast · 2 years

Text

Wrong stop: Chapter one

After an accident at the subway when three children left the subway to a city they didn’t want to stop at, one member of the trio was sent to gather supplies. While taking shelter from the rain, he manages to make a new friend who is excited to introduce him to her other friends. Perhaps this is a lucky break for him.

(this is a crossover fic between my oc and @keikoyume ‘s oc Zero. I am really hoping i wrote Zero well 0o0)

The pale city was cold, and intimidating. Trash and clothes rolled across the floor as the endless blue drifted over each building. In the streets, not really trying to be hidden, was a child in a wide-brimmed hat and a big overcoat. The rain beat against them, making them shiver. The child looked around for some cover from the freezing rain, a dry place would be lovely.

They had enough of the rain, water was not their favorite. If they were to be honest, they’d say they’re quite scared of water.

Letting out a shuddering sigh, they spotted an alley that was somewhat dry. There was a cloth draped over it from one window to the other. Ducking in, they found a small box of supplies and long since dried blood. It looked like someone had to leave this “shelter” in a hurry. Sitting down, they carefully pulled out a small jar of leech blood and drew on the floor in front of them. They carefully drew the other two members of his group: A small, fluffier figure with two long antennae, wings, and glowing white eyes and a taller figure, with a cape and hood with things hanging off his belt.

Wiping the ink off on their leg they thought back to why they were here. They had taken the wrong stop off at the subway, apparently. It’s what Weeks said, at least. When they had tried to leave the subway, something strange happened. A voice rang out in their heads, like a word made of song, and Weeks went flying into the wall, breaking his leg. Moth had decided to stay with Weeks while he recovered, it seemed just as confused and worried as they were.

Ah. He should probably draw himself as well. He didn’t think it was important to, but his friends seemed to want him to whenever the three of them stopped and he started drawing.

Dipping their hand in the blood one more time, they thought hard about what they looked like. They didn’t really look at themself often, so he guessed based on what he could see and what his friends said he looked like. He drew the hat and coat, both too big for him, before moving to his hair. Looking, he noted it reached to below his back, so he drew accordingly. For his eyes, he just drew a circle, and his hands he paused, taking a moment to note the webbing between his fingers. He hummed, and drew squares for his hands, not really feeling like putting much detail into them.

“ That’s not what your hands look like!”

The young artist startled, looking around panickedly before his eyes landed on a now open window, with a strange wire poking out. On the end of the wire, were two eyes that were looking at the drawing.

The wire quickly moved to look at the startled kid, lifting up a bit from the ground.

“Oh sorry! I still think the drawing looks neat!”

The bewildered artist blinked, before relaxing. “Thank you, I-I’m sorry this is prolly your shelter I shouldn’t have drawn on it-”

“Oh no I don’t live here I just wanted to see who was by Dadctor’s window”

“...W-who?”

“Dadctor!”

“Oh,” the artist tilted their head “Who are you?”

“Oh!! I’m Zero!! What’s your name??”

“Rot. Nice to meet you…” Rot thought for a moment, wiping the leech blood from his hand again “Is it alright if i come inside? I was looking for supplies when the rain got heavier…”

That wasn’t true, but how was he supposed to explain that he had run out of energy to deal with the constant water?

“Oh!! Uhm… I think you should be ok to come inside? And I think Dadctor might have supplies! What do you need?” *another wire slid out and started pulling Rot inside through the window.

“Oh- uhm, my friend broke his arm at the subway…”

“What’s a subway?”

“...an area with long metal buildings that rush underground… The adults use it to get from place to place, I think? B-but you have to know where you’re heading first or else you end up at the wrong place…”

“That sounds dumb”

Rot laughed a bit “I wouldn’t know, it’s my first time traveling…”

Rot climbed into the window, and faced a child with wires poking out of their head.

“Oh! You’re a kid!”

That made Zero giggle “Course I am! What did you think I was one of the patients??”

“You seem quite patient to me…”

Zero laughed again, before excitedly grabbing Rot’s hand and starting to lead him away, down the piles of tools and books.

“Cmon! I should introduce you to my friends!!”

Rot perked up, he was quite excited to meet new friends.

And, this confirmed his suspicions. The ocean was wrong about the outside world, everyone was so nice! Sure some of the adults on the Subway chased them around, like that dumb engineer or whatever his friend Weeks called him, but surely most folk aren’t like that, right?

Something in the back of his mind told him that he was letting his guard down too soon, but he pushed it aside rather quickly.

He was determined to have fun with his new friends.

#little nightmares #little nightmares 2 #little nightmares oc #ln oc rot

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crispy-ghee · 3 years

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Hello! Firstly I just wanna say I love your work, both your own personal drawings and stories, as well as the collaboration pieces with Isei. I was just wondering what your process was for your building of your Yautja clans?? I wanted to try my hand at making my own, so I was wondering what pointers you may have.

Hi! Thanks so much for the kind words, it actually makes me really happy that anyone is enjoying the stuff I enjoy making. Worldbuilding can be a lot of fun, and awesome that you're gonna try your hand at it!

I have a lot of thoughts on worldbuilding, and to be honest my approach varies here and there depending on what I'm making or writing, but I'll see if I can't gather my general thoughts into something more succinct instead of going off on a long ramble haha

STARTING INFO

When you're worldbuilding for a pre-existing IP, it's good to keep in mind the stuff you already know about the race/species. This seems really obvious, and imo you can mess around in and out of canon if you want bc it's your clan and you should have fun first and foremost, but it's something to consider.

(But also keep in mind that this isn't something you necessarily have to think about right away, it can come later in your process, but I'm just mentioning it here.)

With Yautja, there's the physical aspects that make them distinct (mandibles, crest, reptilian/mammalian, tendrils, claws, tall on average, tend towards warmer climates, strong, etc) and what we've seen of them culturally (glory/trophy hunters, honor code, matriarchal, etc etc). The cool thing though is that when you're coming up with a hook for your clan, you can either choose to follow these rules, or you could find something interesting in subverting them.

What if it's a clan of smaller yautja? What if these live in the cold? What if their clan doesn't give a shit about hunting? etc etc

Speaking about Hooks...

The Hook is just sort of a jumping off point where you can start building your clan out of. It doesn't necessarily have to be a hook for the audience, and it might even change or be discarded as you go along writing, but it's always good to have a place to start.

Hooks can honestly be anything and inspired from anywhere. I'm going to be honest that most of the time I don't really go searching for hooks, they're moments of inspiration that kickstart stuff. They're usually what causes the worldbuilding.

A lot of that (and a lot of worldbuilding, actually) is actually input. Being curious and learning things, consuming things, etc etc. Expanding your visual/mental library. It's not something that i do purposefully, necessarily. It comes from stuff I've read about, movies and documentaries I've watched, some tweet I saw, a picture on my dashboard, a wikipedia article I stumbled into somehow, a story a friend told, so on and so forth.

That being said, you can totally find a hook if you just ask yourself the right questions.

But the things that can be hooks, like I said, can vary greatly. It could be an idea you had out of nowhere, a novel question, a theme you want to explore, a cool image you saw, a costume you wanna try out, anything! For example:

Maybe you already have a character that you designed that you want to build the clan around. The character can totally be the hook. What are things about the character that might hint at what society they grew up in? Do they have a specific attitude? Quirk? Is there something about their appearance? The clothes they wear, the way their tendrils look, their coloration?

Maybe you saw a location that was really neat! What if Yautja lived in a place like that?

This clan is stealthy!

This clan likes animals!

This clan makes art that looks like _______.

This clan engages in a lot of warfare.

I liked this idea touched upon in a predator comic I read, can i expand on that?

What if a Yautja did Basejumping?

Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera...

Brainstorming! Ask lots of Questions!

I ask a lot of "why" and "how" after I figure out my hook (or hookS). It's an easy way to get stuff kickstarted.

How do they do that? Why do they do that? Is it ritual? Is it something else? Is it based on their history? On their environment? On their Lore? On their social structure?

And then just keep asking why after you answer that question, and then you'll have a pretty good foundation that you can maybe mess with or discard or change completely or use for an even better idea.

Like...lemme use the "Yautja Basejumper" as an example.

Why would this Yautja base-jump? Is it for a practical reason, like it helps them hunt a specific animal? Is it for a ritual reason? Is it for the thrill? Is it to prove themselves?

How do they do it? Do they use high tech to do it, or is it low tech? If it's low tech, what materials do they make their parachutes or gliders out of? In human base-jumping, what tools do they use, and how can I translate that into Yautja maybe? Or is it a completely different approach?

Do they basejump off of mountains? Is it something they do because they live in the mountains? Or is it maybe something they have to travel to a specific place to go do? What is this place? Why do they go there? Is it for a spiritual reason? Coming of age? Is the place itself significant? Does this have something to do with their history, or a legend that they have?

If base jumping is important, how does this affect what they find attractive or cool? Do they like really tenacious yautja? Is being more aerodynamic a boon? Would the wear anything specific for the act, bits of decoration? Is there an animal they want to look like?

So let's say just going through those questions, and asking myself why and how and other questions from that intial hook and then the answers I gave. Here's a (very very very rough) potential initial thought:

This Yautja clan base-jumps as a coming-of-age ritual. They live at the foot of a tall mountain, and young hunters climb to the top to prove their courage and tenacity. Part of the ritual is making your own glider--and if your glider doesn't hold up because you rushed it, then you get really hurt or die, and that's your own fucking fault. They're doing it to mimic large flying animals that once-upon-a-time roosted on that mountain but don't exist anymore, which had cultural/mythical significance to them. Maybe their ancestors used to ride them. This clan are able to fight in flight, unlike many other Yautja.

And then you can build off of that or change it, do research and look stuff up related to it to see if you can add more stuff, keep asking more questions about the things you decided on, etc.

Forever and ever and ever.............

Anyway, that's my worldbuilding approach, haha. It's basically "learn a lot of stuff, ask a lot of questions."

I don't know if that was helpful at all, but there ya go!

#Wolrdbuilding #predator #yautja #ask #advice #answer

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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years

Note

Ok so idk if ur into hybrids or monster fucking so apologizes if these made u uncomfortable so what if Shiggy went to capture a reader that has a tentacles like quirk to give it to AFO but instead just gets fucked with a bunch of tentacles right in the ass ( don’t worry he actually enjoys it)

My morals are very flexible, so don't worry. It honestly sounds pretty neat. 😌

If I had tentacles, there's a 90% chance I would offer to fuck him with them, tbh. 😫🥵

If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk, I will use y/q

InteractiveFics

Master List

Warnings: the reader has tentacles. Like anon said, Shiggy gets absolutely demolished with them, kidnapping, still consensual in the end, don’t worry, the tiniest bit of bondage like it probably doesn't even qualify.

Thanks to Shimeji, I wrote this fic while tiny Shigarakis goofed around on my screen. I would highly recommend it because it’s so cute.

youtube

“Let me go! ” you yelled, struggling with the ropes tied around you.

“No can do, sensei wants you for a nomu, ” Shigaraki said.

“A what?” you asked.

“The scary monsters you see on the news, ” he said.

“What? No way I'm not letting you turn me into one of those!” You protested.

“I'm afraid that you don't have a choice, ” Shigaraki said, “besides they're only using your quirk you won't even be conscious...I think, ”

“No! Let me go!” you screamed trying to kick his seat.

“Don't fucking do that. You'll make us crash, ” he snarled.

“The fuck do I care? I'd rather die, ” you said.

“Just shut up. You'll be fine. Probably. If we're being real here, I have no idea how those things are made. So good luck. Not that I care, ” he said.

You just couldn't take the thought of turning into one of those monsters, you started crying.

“Fuck, ” he groaned, “will you please just shut up, ”

Nothing Shigaraki said registered in your brain. You were paralyzed with fear and couldn't stop the tears streaming down your face.

“Y’know what, fine! Fine! y/n, there is another option, but I don't know if you'll like it, ” he said.

“Please, anything, I'll do anything, ” you pleaded.

“You've got tentacles right?” Shigaraki asked.

“Yeah, ” you sniffled.

“I’ll keep you around if you fuck me with them, ” he offered.

“Excuse me if I what?” You said, shocked.

“I said, ” he repeated, annoyed, “if you're so fucking scared of being turned into a nomu, I’ll keep you around if you use your tentacles to fuck me, ”

You thought for a minute weighing your options.

“Ok, ” you whispered, “I’ll do it. Just don't turn me into a nomu, ”

He chuckled, “sounds great to me. I've got a phone call to make, ”

You nodded, “thank you. Even though you're horrible, thank you for not turning me into a monster, ”

Shigaraki had already picked up the phone, though the smirk on his face told you he had heard you loud and clear.

“Hey, change of plans I'm keeping her....to play with, we’re gonna have some fun....no, sorry, I know she would've been useful, but I just can't pass this up....sure see you later, ” he looked back at you, “we’ll be there in five, ”

You nodded, anxiety bubbling up inside of you. Five minutes felt like nothing as Shigaraki helped you out of the car and into the ‘empty’ building. He sat you inside of his room.

“You're tired, ” he said, “you're sleeping here. My bed is cold anyways, ”

He tugged you into the bed, so you were by the wall. He turned you to face him and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m only doing this so you won't escape, ” he muttered.

You didn’t sleep much, but Shigaraki slept like a baby until he woke up from a nightmare. He clung onto you as he shook, hyperventilating into your hair.

Against your better judgment, you whispered, “Hey, are you ok?”

“Fine, ” he muttered, turning his back to you.

The rest of the night was silent even though it was obvious neither of you slept. When morning came, he fed you breakfast.

“Don't want you to starve, ” he said, bringing in a plate of food.

He brushed the hair out of your face and brought the fork up to your mouth.

“I can feed myself, Shigaraki, ” you said.

“I don't trust you. Be thankful you're getting food. I'm doing a lot for you y/n, ” Shigaraki said.

He was right, so you let him feed you the rest without complaint. He smiled to himself. He’d had a dog before, and while this was quite different, you did remind him of having a pet. He left you alone for a couple of hours to attend some meetings. He walked back into his room, took his shirt off, and untied you.

“Ready?” he asked, “I might be a villain but I'm not gonna rape you,”

“Gee, thanks, ” you said.

“You sound a lot like someone who wants to be a nomu y/n. Are you ready or not?” he said.

“Ready, ” you muttered, conjuring a few tentacles that sprout from your lower back.

“Take your clothes off, ” he ordered.

You stripped, and he did the same, leaving his gloves on. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking nervous. You sighed and sat next to him, running your hands through his hair. You pressed light kisses to his neck, trying your best to enjoy your time with him. Your hands ran up and down his chest, resting at his hips.

“Hands and knees, ” you whispered.

He nodded and crawled to the middle of the bed.

“Don’t half-ass it, ” he snapped.

You ran your hands up and down his thighs, kneeling behind him.

You sighed, “I've never done this before. I don't know what you want me to do, ”

“Me neither, ” he said, turning to face you.

He took you by surprise and pulled you into a rough kiss, as well as pulling you on top of him. You were on top of him as he let his hands run over your back.

“Please just touch me, ” he whispered.

You took control of the kiss. You stroked his cock a few times, and he started to harden. You kept kissing him, getting rougher with him as you realized he wanted you to take control. You moved to his neck, biting and sucking at it, satisfied with the sounds he was making. You spread his legs, seeing the bottle of lube on the nightstand.

“Do this often?” you teased, squirting some onto your fingers.

“Shut the hell up and fuck me, ” he said.

“Fine! Fine!” you said, pressing a finger inside of him.

Not long after, you were able to press a second finger into him. You curled them inside of him, thrusting them as you did. He moaned and moved against your fingers, pressing his face into your shoulder.

“Y/n, ” he moaned, “I'm ready. Please fuck me, ”

The most powerful villain in the world was not only moaning under you but said, ‘please.’

“Sure, babe, ” you said, accidentally letting the pet name slip from your lips.

You let two tentacles hold his legs up, and one slid between them. You looked at him, and he nodded. You started to press one in.

“Fuck, ” you groaned, “I didn't think it would feel good for me, but holy shit, Shigaraki, ”

You shoved another one into him as his back arched. He pulled you down to kiss you, and you pressed both tentacles into him further. You moaned into each other's mouths, and his hands moved into your hair. You started thrusting one inside of him letting your head fall into the crook of his neck. The other wiggled around, providing a different form of stimulation that left him shaking and crying in pleasure.

“Fuck, ” you moaned, “so fucking tight, ”

All he could do was whimper and tug and tug at your hair. You kept moving in inside of him until he rasped out a quiet “right there y/n, ” You kept fucking him there, watching him lose his mind over it. He was moaning loudly and thrashing around.

“Stay fucking still, ” you said, restraining his arms.

You started thrusting harder adding just one more. You felt him somehow manage to get even tighter around you and bite his lip to draw blood.

“Y/n, ” he cried, “I'm close, please baby, please let me cum, ”

“Yeah? You need to cum?” you cooed.

He nodded, unable to form coherent words. You fucked him as hard as you could, smiling down at the wrecked boy underneath you. His body went rigid, and cum shot out of his dick.

“Y/n, ” he cried as he came.

“Right here with you, baby, ” you moaned as you came.

He looked up at you, “no cum?”

“What do you mean? I just came, ” you said.

“Yeah. But there's no cum, ” he pointed out.

“Shigaraki, girls don't make cum. Why would you think I do?” you asked.

“I dunno... the tentacles?” he responded.

“Sorry to disappoint, ” you muttered.

“It's okay, ” he said, running his hands through your hair and pulling you close to him.

“Is this so I can't escape?” you teased.

“No. Cause I want you here with me, ” he whispered, tightening his hold on you.

You nodded, leaving another kiss on his neck. He was so vulnerable, so honest.

“What does your little group even stand for?” you asked.

“I’ll tell you later. You might agree with it y/n, ” he said, petting your hair, “you’d be a valuable member, ”

“I'm honored you think that, ” you said.

“Sleep, ” he grunted, turning so he was laying on you.

“Don't you need a blanket?” you asked.

“No. You're warm, ” he said.

You sat in silence for a while.

“I had a bad dream last night, ” he whispered.

You rubbed his back, “tell me about it, ”

#tentacles #tomura fluff #tomura smut #tenko smut #tomura x reader #mha tomura #tomura imagine #shigaraki tenko #tomura shiragaki #tomurashigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki smut #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader

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venhedish · 3 years

Text

In light of a certain wincest-adjacent blocklist making the rounds and some friends of mine getting smacked with the purity hammer, I have things to say for anyone who would like to listen!

In my experience, antis are more concerned with the rush they get from being angry and feeling morally superior than they are with actually engaging critically with us, the text, or themselves to understand why they feel the way they feel.

This is not actually about the incest thing and it never has been. Incest in the SPN fandom is being used as a dog-whistle to draw a dividing line between us and them, and it’s that shitty black-and-white thinking that tons of young people are falling victim to because it’s wrapped up with a bow that presents a neat little package: incest bad. We can all agree on that, can’t we? But what’s so insidious is that this new-Victorian purity movement is only cloaked in a signifier of moral purity. What it actually is is a giant, authoritarian flag waving in the air, inviting the anti-intellectual to join together behind a concept that sounds righteous on the surface but is actually being used to bully, harass, and harm people who are often already marginalized out of their own communities.

One thing to look out for in particular that absolutely fascinates me is the way language is used as an exclusionary, self-selective force that reinforces these boundaries. Go to any one of the big heller/anti-wincest blogs and look at the way they talk to each other. To be clear, almost all groups will eventually start developing a shorthand that makes them easily identifiable to each other, but sometimes I’ll check out that side of tumblr and legitimately feel like we’re speaking two different languages.

This is a really common thing that happens with political and religious movements and it’s happening here for similar reasons! If you’re on the fringes of fandom and you like destiel and you join tumblr or twitter or wherever these communities are active and you do a search for your ship, you’ll find some blogs that seem really cool and have interesting stuff to say, but they’re full of in-jokes and weird terms and meme language. And because you want to fit in—to understand the community you’re joining—you dive deeper, you search back through history and pick up pieces here and there until you finally get it. And by that point, you’ve basically indoctrinated yourself. You’re doing their work for them, essentially.

This kind of thing is done on purpose for two reasons: it helps to signify that people using this language have passed a litmus test that proves this person is one of us, and it makes it harder for the outsider to engage with you on even footing. I mean, this sounds fucking ridiculous, but how the fuck is an intellectually honest person supposed to engage critically with someone who attacks them by calling them J*red-kin??? (I just made that up but I can 100% imagine a heller using it as an insult). I’m not saying this is done on purpose in the SPN fandom. I mean, maybe a little by people who are shit-stirring on purpose, but this kind of thing just happens and it’s very hard to catch on to. We’re all guilty of it. Language is crazy flexible and always shifting and we flex and shift with it as popular phrases come and go.

Look, all I’m saying is that if you actually think about the response to wincest from the heller community, you realize how flimsy their platform really is. Reading and writing about fictional brothers fictionally fucking each other harms no one, and anyone with a brain who actually cares knows this! That’s why the anti-wincest crowd isn’t citing articles or research about the dangers of portraying incest in fiction – because they don’t exist! We can, of course, talk about the impact that uneven power dynamics in real life incestuous relationships have on victims of such abuse, how most people who are sexually abused are abused by a family member, how to be aware of grooming techniques and watch out for red flags that point towards abusive behavior. But we don’t! Because that’s 👏 not 👏 what 👏 it’s 👏 about 👏

Instead, it’s just an overflowing bandwagon jammed full of empty ideas and a lot of people getting hurt because of it. Innocent – let me say it again: INNOCENT people who are exploring sexuality, trauma, relationship dynamics, and just plain old having a good time minding their own business in an ethically safe and victimless way are being threatened and harassed and told to die. Wonder which one is actually more damaging and morally bankrupt. 🤔

Anyway, imagine a world where the purity police got their way. There’d basically be no safe literature left. Nabokov? Cancelled. Rushdie? Salinger? Ginsberg? All cancelled. Imagine antis whole-cloth discarding hundreds of years of religious tradition because of all the shit the gods got up to! This is the same line of thinking that made a generation of moms believe that violent video games led to real-world violence. Fiction has never, ever, been meant to only tell pure stories. The whole world of literature would be narrowed down to, like, a couple cautionary tales and picture books if anti culture could somehow actually reach the inevitable praxis of its desire.

Taboos have always been sexy. It’s okay to explore them through the medium of fiction. It’s literally the safest, most ethically responsible thing you can do. Please, please don’t let a functionally illiterate hive-mind convince you otherwise!

For an amazing resource to learn more about anti culture and how troubling it is, check out @freedom-of-fanfic. It’s an awesome blog to browse if you’re even a tiny bit interested in this kind of thing!

#ven creates #anti culture #purity culture #wincest #fandom wank #spn #supernatural #my thoughts #long post #thanks for coming to my ted talk #feel free to reblog

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asterroidd · 3 years

Text

tempt fortune

↬ Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader

↬ Word count: 4.5k

↬ Warning/s: swearing, mentions of sex, alcohol, slight NSFW (?)

↬ Synopsis: Too deep in an argument with Hange in attempts to prove you are—in fact—not a virgin, you’ve accidentally lied blurted out that you and Levi are in a relationship.

↬ Notes: Tysm for the request anon! I had way too much fun with this prompt lol.

↬ Minors do not interact. Go away, shoo shoo!

8th prompt: “I can’t believe you told them you were my fiancé.”

The night was murky and dark with only the shine of the moon serving as a way to illuminate the streets of the city. Trees stripped bare as a sign of the forthcoming change of seasons, and a milky white fog had encompassed the city’s canals and dark alleyways. The crisp, cold air makes the hair on your skin stood up and shiver despite the layers of clothing you wore.

Though, that feeling will dissipate away as soon as the bitter taste of alcohol hits your taste buds and enter your system.

Earlier that day, Hange and Petra had invited you to a night out to the local pub to wash away the fears and tension of being soldiers of the Survey Corps. A guilty pleasure of some sort, just a way to rid the jitters of being eaten by a titan outside the walls. Despite the three of you being veterans, neither of you could ever shake the feeling of death’s cold hands resting on top of your shoulder.

That said, two of your best friends walked alongside you. Arms hooked with one another for warmth and for comfort. Soon enough, the three of you arrived at the destined place: the pub.

There are a couple of tables already taken, but the place is not too full. Even with that, the pub is still quite energetic; with men hollering and throwing their heads back as they chat with one another, weak threats that are carelessly thrown around by drunk individuals looking for a mock fight, and of course the iconic clink of glasses against one another as toast.

“What are we drinking tonight?” Petra asked. She claimed a seat at an empty table, in which you and Hanji followed suit.

“Whiskey!” Hange announced to which brought a grin on your face.

"Getting wasted, I see.“ You shrugged your jacket off and placed it neatly by your side. "Isn’t it Petra’s turn to treat us?”

The female in question instantly whipped her head to face you, a shocked look evident on her face. “I don’t recall making such promises.”

"You sure did!“ Hanji added. "We made a bet weeks ago. Debating whether or not Erwin grooms his eyebrows every morning.”

"In which we won, by the way.“ you said with a smug look on your face. "The commander does indeed groom it and even has a special comb for it.”

“Not fair!” Petra pouted, pushing her bottom lip out and giving Hange the puppy dog eyes in attempts to save her poor wallet. Which was futile, the brunette stuck her tongue out and shook her head. While Petra and Hange continued with their debacle, you took it upon yourself to call the attention of a barmaid. She gave you a beaming smile, her golden locks neatly tied into a bun and crow’s feet visible beneath her eyes. She approached the table wherein the three of you are situated.

“Two bottles of whiskey and three mugs please,” you spoke, not even bothering to wait for her to speak up. She nodded before strolling towards the counter to prepare your order.

Petra slumped her weight onto the table as she heaved a sigh in defeat. “Fine. It’s my treat tonight.”

You and Hange cheered in delight, successfully evading a huge loss of money given that whiskey is quite expensive. The continuous catastrophic storms that beleaguered the farmlands had made an extensive disastrous effect on the supply of barley and wheat. Which, like a domino effect, limits the supply of whiskey within the walls. Increasing the price of the said beverage more than two-fold.

It was a good thing that you put faith in your instincts and thus won the bet.

“How’s the research going, Hanji?” Petra changed the topic.

The brunette let out a drained sigh, “Levi had to kill Hughes.”

“Hughes?” You piped in. “The eight-meter class aberrant titan we caught last time?”

Hange nodded, “He was a good man. An honest man.” She spoke of the titan as if it was her long lost husband that died in a war.

Then, she started blabbering on and on about the experiments she had done to the beast; piercing its eye to count the regeneration time, plucking one of its teeth out to see if it would disintegrate, and many more.

You would’ve stopped her then and there if it weren’t for the barmaid approaching your table with a tray of glass and two bottles of whiskey. You internally cheered, Hange had told stories about Hughes a couple of times already that you basically had memorized it all.

The three of you wasted no time in popping one of the bottles and pouring the bitter liquid into the cups.

"To friendship. And condolences to Petra’s wallet.“ You raised your glass up to which the two mirrored. With one satisfying clink of the glass, you swallowed down its contents in one gulp. Your face contorting in an unattractive expression as the alcohol slid down your throat.

"I was planning to buy a book that I wanted. But it looks like it would have to wait for the time being,” Petra said, pouring another glass of whiskey.

"Pshh,“ your brunette friend snorted. "You have Oluo to buy anything you want.”

Instantly, blood rushed to Petra’s face upon hearing the male’s name.

You joined in the teasing. “Oh yeah. You two are a thing. Now, aren’t you?”

“We’re not!” your friend slammed her fists on the wooden table. “We’re just friends!”

“Oh really?” Hange swished the whiskey around the glass. “That’s not what I heard the other night.”

She leaned in close to whisper. “I heard moans coming out of his room.”

Petra sucked in a breath in shock, her eyes widening in shock and mouth slightly agape. “I- it’s not…it’s–” she said but she was a stuttering mess.

“Already in that stage, I see.” You playfully nudged her. It was an ongoing comical joke in the base that Oluo and Petra are in a romantic relationship after the male flat out publicly confessed to her one night in the mess hall. The room immediately erupted in a mess as howls and catcalls are heard. Ever since then, both of them are continuously teased.

“Say, (____)…” Hange trailed off, her fingers curling around the shot glass. Gulping the remaining liquid down her throat before continuing, “Are you a virgin?”

You let out an inhumane sound in shock. Borderline choking as you tried to swallow down the whiskey caught in your throat. Petra saw your discomfort in which she assisted you by lightly patting you on the back as you coughed air out.

“What kind of question is that?” you said after your body stopped jerking.

Hanji gave you a lop-sided smile. “Just that we are nearing our thirties. Who knows when we’ll breathe our final breath? The least we could do is experience getting laid before that happens.”

“Well, are you a virgin?” You answered with a question.

Hange rests her chin on top of her open palm. “Nope, though it was a one night stand.”

You sweat buckets, you never had someone popped your cherry before, let alone a serious relationship that is romantic.

Are you the only one left that hasn’t got laid?

But it’s not your fault! You were just too caught up with military services that love never crossed your mind

Or did it?

Your mind wanders off to daydream about the small and petty crush you have with a certain captain.

There is just something so captivating about the way his silver eyes met yours the first time you saw him. How his raven hair looks neat every time and you could only guess how soft it would be to touch. Not to mention his impeccable skill with the 3dmg maneuver gear and its blades.

Yes, it was none other than Captain Levi himself. But it was all just a petty crush! A small rosebud of admiration that had blossomed as you fought alongside the male and got to know him better each passing day.

“Well?” Hange snapped you out of your thoughts. “Have you or have you not gotten laid?”

You cleared your throat, you didn’t want to look foolish in front of your friends. Given that the two of them had their own fair share of experience in the topic. They would tease the hell out of you and soon enough, the whole base would do as well.

Lieutenant (____), the virgin soldier. You don’t want things to be that way.

“O-of course I did,” you puffed your chest out more to elicit fake confidence.

Petra cooed, “Really? With who?”

You thought of the closest male in your personal bubble. “Levi!”

To say that the two were shocked was an understatement. They were both flabbergasted. Never in a million years would they expect that you and Levi had a relationship, let alone sexual intercourse. The two, in fact, never saw him and you close enough that would draw out a romantic vibe. So they are completely blown away and confused at the same time.

“Bullshit,�� Hange said. “Shorty is one lonely man that has no love in his system.”

“I-is too!” you stuttered out, hand flailing around in panic. “In fact, he is my fiancé.”

Okay, that might be a stretch.

Petra slammed her hands against the table to which garnered half of the customers’ attention. “Get out! No way!”

“Yes way!” You countered. So far so good, now all you had to do is convince them that you and Levi are actually a thing. Which was easier said than done since you would need to bribe or annoy the male enough that he would give in to your pleas.

Though, Hange is still unimpressed as evident with her pouting lips and furrowed eyebrows. “Prove it then, show us that the shorty and you are actually a thing. I would bet half of my salary this month if you could show us that Levi is capable of love.”

“Bring it on four-eyes!”

And so begins the downfall of your life.

Levi had a sick feeling in his gut; a hunch that for the next few hours, he would have a shitty day. However, he couldn’t say for sure what would cause such disturbance to his day. His gut feelings were never wrong, it was an innate sense that he had ever since he lived in the Underground. So he was sure something would happen, he’d have to be more careful.

That said, he instantly regretted the way he jinxed himself.

There you are, standing outside of his office at two in the morning. Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt, constantly shifting your weight from one foot to another as you refuse to make eye contact with Levi. Bashful eyes kept staring down at your feet whilst you find the words to make one coherent sentence.

“I have something important to discuss with you,” you murmured to which Levi quirked a brow. What did you want now that it couldn’t wait until the sun rose up in the sky?

The male crossed his arms across his chest, leaning his weight on the doorway. “What is it?”

“Please pretend to be my lover.”

Levi blinked, his eyes widening and mouth hanging open slightly. Though, he regained back his usual composure in a split second. He narrowed his eyes at you.

You want him to do what now? Is this some kind of prank or sick joke that you thought of?

Taking note of his silence, you decided to explain to him your situation that needs his immediate cooperation and attention.

“You see…” you sucked in a breath. “I kind of lied to Hange and Petra that I got laid and it was you who actually took my virginity. Hange didn’t believe a word that I said and uhh-… Things got out of hand and I told them I was your fiancé.”

What?

Levi sighed through his nose, an exasperated expression on his face. “So this is what it’s all about.”

“Yes. And now I need you to play along and pretend to be my significant other.”

The male scrunched his face up in disgust, “I can’t believe you told them you were my fiancé.”

You fought back a sob, “Please. I beg of you, Levi.”

“No.” Levi shook his head. “No way. Don’t drag me in your own bullshit.”

The male was about to close his door but you grabbed him by his sleeve. Clutching on it until your knuckles turned white. You couldn’t just let him shut you out without agreeing to play along. You’d do whatever it takes just to get Levi to pretend to be your lover.

"I’ll buy you the expensive black tea.“

His ears twitched, now that piqued Levi’s interest. You smirked as he froze, you knew that he has a soft spot for tea. And tasty, expensive ones at that matter.

Levi chewed on his bottom lip while he pondered over his next words. The male was supposed to be keeping his hands busy by signing and writing the documents that started to pile high up on top of his desk due to Hanji dumping her workload on him. Levi sighed through his nose, fingers massaging his temple. "How long?”

“What?” You tilted your head to the side.

“Tch.” Levi clicked his tongue. “How long do I need to pretend to be your lover?”

Levi swore that the minute he let go of those words, stars danced in your eyes.

"We just need to convince the others.“

"And then?” He asked.

"And then? What. . ?“

Levi internally groaned and rolled his eyes. Was it really worth the risk?

"Are you expecting that we keep the act up?”

Oh, so that is what he meant by it.

"Well,“ you rubbed your chin with your fingers in deep thought. "We could stop the acting after a few weeks? We’ll just tell them we’re too busy and shit that we couldn’t maintain the relationship anymore.”

Levi shrugged. “Sounds good enough to me.”

You squealed in delight as you threw your arms around his neck, showering him with gratitude and compliments.

Looks like black tea does the trick.

The sun already rose from its slumber, showering the lands with its soft rays of light. Levi had a scowl ever-present on his face as soon as he stepped out of his office room. He knew that something was wrong. Something out of place as he sensed the change in the atmosphere of the base that would normally be heavy and tense.

Still, he persisted on shrugging the thought off and continued with his daily morning routine: which is to quickly brew a cup of tea before the mess hall becomes full with people. Levi walked down the halls, a handful of soldiers are already awake and fully clothed with the Survey Corps uniform. They gave him one brief and firm salute as he passed by them. Though, Levi swore that he could hear them whispering amongst themselves.

When the male arrived at the mess hall, he was surprised to see most of the superiors—along with his squad—are mingling with one another at a table. His mind screamed danger, telling his body to turn around and hide in the comforts of his office. However, Levi wasn’t going to give up his morning cup of tea just because he felt uneasy.

He slid inside like a shadow, going unnoticed by most of his friends that was too energetic today for his tastes. They were chatting loudly about miniscule things; the weather, training later on the day, gear inspection that needs to be done, and the like.

Levi wished that he would be overlooked, that their banter would be noisy enough that he could peacefully grab a cup of tea and run back to his office. Though that wishful thinking of his soon come crashing down when Hange’s cheery voice called out to him.

“Mornin’ shorty! Come sit here beside us! We already have tea brewed for you!”

Levi internally groaned, gripping the empty cup in his hands tighter. The brunette just had to have an innate sense in locating where Levi is. Reluctantly, he left the porcelain behind and walked towards the table. You were nowhere to be found, which was a huge relief for him since Levi doesn’t want to see your face first thing in the morning.

“What’s with the shit-eating grin?” he took a seat beside Erwin.

“(____) told me something important last night,” Hange wiggled her shoulders.

He narrowed his eyes at her, “What do you mean?”

Levi heard Erwin laughing beside him, the blond’s shoulders bouncing up and down. He then placed one palm on top of Levi’s shoulder.

“Congratulations, Levi! Didn’t knew you were engaged.“

Hold the fuck up. What?

Then it dawned on him. He remembered you outside his office in the wee hours of the morning, begging him to play along with your petty bullshit just for the sake of preserving your dignity among your peers.

Levi couldn’t believe that he would start acting right away. He haven’t had a sip of his morning tea.

“Yeah,” he said, eyeing the cup of tea that Eld placed in front of him. Levi doubts that any of them could perfectly brew tea that would meet his standards.

“What?” Oluo joined in the conversation. “So it’s true then?”

Levi grumbled, taking a sip of the leaf infused hot liquid. He relished the dark and malty taste of it sliding down his esophagus before responding. “Any problem with that?”

The male shifted in his seat, “N-no, sir… Just that I am shocked.”

“We all are,” Erwin chuckled. “We never expected it.”

“You are a man of a few words, after all.” Petra added. “Still, we are happy for you, captain!”

Levi stayed silent, if he knew that by accepting your bribery would open Pandora’s box of headache and irritation in his life, then he wouldn’t have agreed to it. Still, he was hopeful that only those close to him are informed of the arrangement. That you wouldn’t go so far as to spread the news around the base.

Scratch that. Everyone knew that Levi is your fiancé.

By the time midday rolled around, Levi was the center of attention much to his displeasure. Of all the years he had served in the military, never did he expect that one small arrangement done at two a.m. would have dire consequences.

All for the black tea. Levi chanted in his mind. Dealing with this bullshit for a box full of expensive black tea.

Whispers could be heard, though he paid no attention to it, dead set on finding you to ask what in the ever-loving fuck is going through your brain for letting everyone know.

Ah, speak of the devil. There you are, by the horses’ stables. Your hands reaching up to caress the nose of your horse, a giggle escaping your lips as its tongue darted out to tickle you.

“(____),” he called out.

You whipped your head around to the sound. Then your smile grew wider as you saw it was Levi.

“Hey!” you replied while wiping your wet hand on a towel. “What’s up?”

The male groaned, you are too casual about it.

“Care to explain why does everyone in the base knew that we are engaged?” The word rolled off his tongue like venom. “I thought it was only Hanji and Petra?”

Your smile wavered down, replaced by a bashful one. “Well uhh-…you see. Hanji kind of started the rumors which quickly spread like wildfire.”

“So it’s not my fault,” you threw your hands up.

Levi sighed exasperatedly. He should’ve known that the source would be four eyes. The brunette had caused more trouble than Levi could count within his fingers. He recounted countless times where she knocked on death’s door willingly when Hange placed her head inside a titan’s mouth. Who does that?

A maniac with a death wish, and that is what Hange is.

“Never mind that,” you trailed off, motioning the male to come closer. He rolled his eyes before obliging. “I have a plan that could finally get Hange off the radar,” you continued.

“And that would be?”

You looked side by side, eyes scanning the surroundings in case someone is eavesdropping. Once you considered the coast was clear, you told Levi the plan. “Hanji would be dropping off a stack of paperwork later this evening.”

Levi doesn’t already like where this is going.

“We could pretend to have sex in your office, loud enough for her to hear it. That for sure would convince her.”

You wanted to do what now?

“Wait, hold on.” Levi shook his head, slowly trying to digest your words. “You want us to have sex?”

“We’re not really going to do it!” you slapped his shoulder blades. “Just create some noise and thuds here and there to make it seem like we are doing it.”

The male internally groaned before hesitantly agreeing with your plan. If it means that this stupid fabrication of a relationship would be done, he’d follow suit.

You could hear the loud pounding of your heart inside your ribcage as you sat on one of the chairs in Levi’s office. Patiently, waiting for the fated moment where Hange would be knocking on the door. Butterflies flew around in your stomach, you couldn’t believe that Levi would actually cooperate with the stupid plan you had just conjured up at a moment’s notice.

The thought of him moaning and grunting made your core burn with desire. As much as you want to calm yourself, you couldn’t help but stir up images and scenes in your mind as to how Levi would look like while having sex. You don’t know which was a better view: him on top of you or you riding him.

Heat rushed to your cheeks at the thought. Why does he have to be so goddamn sexy that you couldn’t resist the man?

“Oi,” Levi called out to you. Though, his eyes never left the paper in his hands as he scanned it. “Quiet down will you? Your foot tapping against the floor irritates me.”

Oh, it was a mindless action of yours when you get too nervous. By bouncing your legs up and down, it helps you calm down and ignore the growing pit of anxiety in your stomach. Nonetheless, you mumbled a quick apology to the male then resorted to fumbling with the collars of your uniform.

Soon enough, you heard the soft humming of Hange outside, her footsteps increasing in sound as she draws near the door. You and Levi looked at each other, it was showtime.

You abruptly stood up, arms flailing around as you glanced between the male and the door. Wait, what do you need to do again? And why is Levi still sitting in his chair and not doing anything?

“Levaii!” Hange knocked. “I got more paperwork for you!”

The doorknob rattled, but you instantly had the metal in your grasp in attempts to keep the female out of the room.

“Huh…?” you could hear Hange utter. “Levi?”

In a panicked state, your mind blanked out as words fail to escape your lips. You shot a pleading look to Levi, to which he rose a brow.

Help me you bitch! You mouthed.

He shot you a confused look. It’s your plan, do it, the male mouthed back.

You gulped down your saliva, shaky hands gripping the doorknob tighter as the brunette jostle it. Time seemed to stop as you suddenly remember one hole in the plan. One important thing that you have overlooked that could potentially blow your cover.

You don’t know how to moan.

A soft whine emanated from your throat. The things you have to do just to preserve your dignity.

“DON’T COME IN! WE’RE uh-… WE’RE HAVING SEX!” you shouted on top of your lungs, too distressed to rethink your words all over again. But now it was too late.

“W-what?” Hange’s voice was muffled by the wooden door.

“Levi. Moan. Now.” You whispered, practically begging the male for his help.

“Why do I have to moan?” he stood up and made his way around the desk to approach you.

“JUST-… Just create one sexual sound! A grunt, a moan, a whine! I don’t care. Just make a sound.”

Levi shot you an irked expression, his nose crinkling up. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to moan (unlike a certain someone), but because he had the initial thought that you would be moaning and Levi would be just hitting the wooden desk over and over again to elicit sex noises. Still, he felt his heart strings being pulled as he looked at your eyes with tears threatening to fall out of them. Your tearducts filled to the brim with the salty liquid. Levi would be a good guy for once, right?

He would surely regret his future actions. Big time.

With a sigh, the male pulled you along with him to the couch. His hands guiding your hips to sit on top of his lap whilst he smashed his lips with yours. Air got caught in your throat as Levi’s hands roamed around—exploring every inch of your body—while his mouth moved in attempts to get yours to move also. You never expected that he would be pressing his lips against yours in a heated dance—a wet one at that matter. Levi’s tongue kept darting and swiping at your bottom lip, which was an oddly delightful sensation that it makes you want to—

“Hngghh…”

Moan.

Your hands curled up, clutching Levi’s shirt and wrinkling it up in the process. Pleasure clouded your mind as hormones took over your system. Testing the waters, you opened your mouth—just a slight—so that his pink muscle could enter your wet cavern. And heavens above, it was such a blissful experience.

Levi exhaled into the kiss to which the air slightly ticked your cheeks. He used one hand to bring your head closer to his so that he could taste more of you, while the other started peeling the jacket off of you, going just past your shoulder blades. A quiet moan slipped past your lips once again.

“Okay, I call bullshit. I am entering,” Hange announced, prying open the doors only to gasp loudly upon seeing the scene before her. “OH. YOU WERE SERIOUS?”

Levi broke away to glare at the brunette, “Tch. Do you mind? Four eyes?”

You are in such a daze that you find yourself staring at Levi’s lips. In that brief moment, you already missed the feeling of his mouth against yours.

The female blinked, too stunned as she stared at the both of you. One powerless lieutenant, with your first few buttons undone and jacket slipping down, sitting on Levi’s lap. Your lower area flush against the male’s ever-growing erection. Not to mention the bewildered expression that you have with a lewd undertone. Hange swore that she saw a string of saliva between yours and Levi’s lips.

“Ah yes. I’ll just place these here, no biggie. Hehe.” The brunette let out an awkward laugh, placing the stacks of paper in the corner of the room. “Have fun you two!”

That said, Hange left the room. Her steps were heavy against the cobblestone floor as she rushed away from the vicinity. A grin on her face as she thought of spreading the news that you and Levi are doing at the moment in his room. Not even minding that she lost the bet with you since you had proved to her that indeed the captain is capable of love. A juicy information such as this is worth half of her salary for the month.

Levi brought your attention to him by kissing you once again. This time, with more force as he pried your mouth open once again with his tongue alone. It was a slippery battle; one-sided, in fact, considering that you weren’t fighting back. You simply let him wrestle with your tongue, yours and his saliva mixing in the process.

Damn, you really couldn’t hold your moan in this time.

“Would you look at that?” Levi pulled away. “You know how to moan, after all.”

You swore, the tips of his lips curled upwards in a small smirk and there was a dark glint in his eyes.

“Wh-Wha—” you were a loss for words. “What did you—…What was that?”

“It’s a kiss, dumbass.”

“That’s not what I meant! Y-your tongue—”

He rose a brow at you. “What about it?”

You sealed your mouth shut, heat rushing to your face in embarrassment. “Just… just don’t do that again.”

Levi kept a firm grip on your waist as you wriggled. “Shut up, you obviously liked it. You even opened your mouth.”

“Did not!”

“Then why did you moaned into the kiss?”

You suck in a breath, cat catching your tongue.

“Though so…” he murmured, diving into your neck to pepper it with light kisses. Head too filled with pleasure, you gripped his shirt in your closed fists as you let out one shaky breath. It takes all of your nerves just to swallow that one moan threatening to come out.

“Hng- Levi. You could stop now, Hange saw us already.”

He hummed, pulling back slightly to gaze into your eyes. There was a hint of lust hidden within his silver orbs. You gulped, finding yourself wrapped around his fingers.

“Why won’t we make your lie come true?” Levi sunk his teeth in your neck.

Guess who is getting laid tonight.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #levi #levi x reader #captain levi #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #reader insert #asters fics

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tothemeadow · 3 years

Text

A New Year’s gift from me to you!

~*ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ TᗯO*~

warnings: NSFW, semi-public sex

words: 5.1 k

Prologue | Chapter One

“Not interested.”

All it takes is those two words, two dreadful words, and Kyojuro’s groaning in disappointment. Tapping his fingers against the chair’s arms, he pushes his lips out in a pout. Giyuu merely rolls his eyes at him, gaze flicking back to whatever is displayed on the computer’s screen.

It had only been a mere suggestion, nothing more. Go out, get some drinks, maybe find someone to take home. Lord knows how much Giyuu needs to get laid; the guy’s stress is palpable, and Kyojuro wants to help his friends however he can. Maybe all it takes is to get his dick sucked, nice and fucking hard. And, if he plays his cards right, have someone clinging onto his arm by the end of the night.

Kyojuro isn’t an idiot, nor is he blind. Giyuu is beautiful, looking like he stepped right out of the pages of some goddamn fairy tale. Hell, even his bank account is real pretty, every single zero making it even more dazzling. What he means is that Giyuu can have anybody if he truly wanted to. The problem is, however, is that a sack of potatoes has more charisma than the poor man. Giyuu isn’t much of a social butterfly, unlike Kyojuro.

It kind of sucks.

“Aw, come on, man,” Kyojuro groans, “let me take you for a night out. You need some time to sit back and relax. Let someone else take care of you.”

“You’re being awfully persistent about this.”

“That’s because I want what’s best for you, duh. You run some bigshot company and need me to explain that to you? What was the point of you traveling overseas for university if you don’t put that knowledge to use?”

With a sigh, Giyuu turns away from his computer and rests his elbows on his desk. Like the rest of his office, it’s a solid piece of modern, expensive style. The wood gleams with the rays of sunlight pouring in through the windows, looking almost too neat to be believable. There’s not a speck of dust in sight. It’s not the first time Kyojuro’s visited Giyuu’s office, but it always amazes him just how clean and immaculate the space is. It really reflects its owner, his simple yet sleek style.

“Kyojuro,” Giyuu starts, threading his fingers together, “you literally told me you wanted me to take someone home.”

At that, Kyojuro smiles. “And what’s your point? You go to some Ivy League school and not partake in some parties? No keg stands? Beer pong? Fucking the brains out of some busty blonde?”

“Not everyone is a certified sex symbol,�� Giyuu states coolly. “You don’t see my face on the cover of magazines advertising an article about some upcoming film where I blow everyone to bits and take a dame to bed.”

“Ohohoho, somebody’s getting frisky, I see. That is a sign, my dear friend. You need to get your dick wet and pronto.”

“Don’t belittle me.”

Raising his hands in mock self-defense, Kyojuro flashes Giyuu a knowing smirk. “You’re only proving my point. And if you don’t want to meet somebody random, why not let me hit up someone I know? I can set you up.”

Giyuu scoffs. “No thanks.”

“Oooo, what about Mitsuri or Shinobu-“

“Don’t ever suggest that,” Giyuu hisses. His entire face scrunches, much like he just tasted something incredibly sour.

Bursting into a fit of laughter, Kyojuro leans forward in his seat, hands gripping onto his sides. “Shit, man, I forget how funny you can be sometimes!” Wiping away at his eyes, he sits back, a spare giggle or two escaping from his lips. “Speaking of Mitsuri… I guess she really hit it off with Idris’ girl’s friend.”

Instead of saying anything, Giyuu merely raises an eyebrow. However, he still looks incredibly disinterested.

“Oh, you remember her, don’t you? The one from the party last week? Long legs, nice ass? I think her name was (y/n)?”

At the mention of your name, Giyuu visibly perks up. Heh. Hook, line, and sinker.

“It’s a damn shame, don’t you think? Somebody so fine got nabbed before I even had the chance to make a move,” Kyojuro continues, willing his voice to take on a wistful tone. He sends Giyuu a wink. “She’s a solid ten, don’t you think?”

The movement is so, so subtle, but Kyojuro knows he’s got Giyuu right where he wants him. Giyuu clears his throat, then – a poor attempt at trying to come off as disinterested. “It’s a good thing Mitsuri found someone she likes so much,” he says, completely bypassing the question.

“Mitsuri likes her, alright; likes her even better in bed.”

It takes all of Kyojuro’s willpower not to laugh, it really does. He can practically see the gears turning in Giyuu’s head, the slight tinge of red blooming on the tips of his ears. Jeez, if it takes this much to get Giyuu flustered, then he’d pay to see what would happen if he took Giyuu to a strip club.

“And I’ll tell you what,” he continues, crossing his legs and cocking his head. “Mitsuri’s willing to share her with the rest of us, but only if she wants it.”

“What… What are you talking about? What do you mean by sharing?”

Clicking his tongue in amusement, Kyojuro uncrosses his legs and shuffles forward, just barely sitting on the edge of the chair. “Exactly what it sounds like, Giyuu. Doesn’t that sound nice? Imagine having a pretty thing like that sitting on your lap.”

Again, Giyuu scoffs. “You’re starting to sound like Tengen.”

“But you didn’t say no to what I just put in your head.”

Giyuu grumbles something under his breath, but it’s too low for Kyojuro to understand. No matter; there’s a knock at the door, then, and in pops Giyuu’s personal secretary’s head. A cute boy – Kamado Tanjiro – with honest eyes and a genuine smile. The earrings he wears swings in his lobes. “Tomioka-san, you’re three o’clock appointment is here. Shall I tell them you’re busy?”

“Don’t worry about it, Tanjiro,” Kyojuro says. Drawing himself up to a stand, he smooths out the wrinkles in his pants and salutes Giyuu with two fingers. “Think about what I said, Giyuu. There’s fun to be had.” With a final smirk, he brushes past Tanjiro and leaves.

It’s only been a few days since that experience with Mitsuri, but you can already tell that something’s changed. Granted, you still feel a bit odd about the whole situation, but another, darker side of you is pleased. Daki is more than ecstatic to have you as a sugar sister; before, whenever you’d go shopping with her, you’d only help pick out clothing for her since everything was way too damn expensive. Now, though… Now things are different.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Daki gushes from where she sits. Perched on a fluffy stool in front of her vanity, she carefully applies a set of false eyelashes. “Like, think of all the fun things we get to do together! Don’t get me wrong, Idris is great, but some of those parties he drags me to can be an absolute bore. If you’re there, well, it’s bound to be more fun! Besides, think of all the yummy treats you’ll get to have…”

From your spot on the couch, you guffaw at your friend’s attempt to hype you up. Carefully, you dip the brush back into the bottle; the nail polish Daki picked out is a shade of pastel pink with pearl undertones. She said Mitsuri really had a thing for pretty pink things, so it was only natural for you to fit that bill, obviously.

“Yes, because stuffing my face with macarons and bubbly is how I want to spend my time,” you say, sarcasm dripping heavily from your words.

“Oh, like you wouldn’t love that,” Daki throws right back at you. “Besides, you wanna be extra sweet for Mitsuri, don’t you? Don’t act like Mitsuri didn’t already have her head stuffed between your legs.”

“Daki!” you shriek. You scramble to catch the bottle of nail polish before it spills all over the place. “Don’t say things like that!”

“Pffft, what for? It’s true, you sneaky bitch! You’ve been glowing ever since your date with her! Did I not tell you that sex with Misturi is the bomb?”

“Okay, okay! You were right!” you exclaim, bursting into round of giggles.

Putting her mascara away, Daki gets up from her spot and moves to where you sit on the couch. Lifting your legs, she slithers in next to you and props your feet on her lap. “Give me that,” she says, taking the nail polish away from you. “Are you and Mitsuri going on a date anytime soon?”

As you nod, a sheepish smile grows on your face. “Yeah – she’s taking me to a theatre tonight, actually. I guess there’s some play she wanted to watch with me.”

“Aww, well isn’t that cute!” Daki chirps, not looking away from the task at hand. “Wait,” she says, suddenly looking up at you, “that means I get to play dress up, right?”

Since being Idris’ sugar baby and all, Daki is no stranger to the luxurious lifestyle and the vast amount of clothes and accessories that comes with. Furthermore, Idris even bought her some swanky apartment, filled with top notch appliances, spacious rooms, and yes, you guessed it – a walk in closet. It’s where you sit now, gazing at the numerous wracks of clothing, the shelves of shoes and purses. It put you in mind of Barbie’s closet, actually, with just how many articles of clothing Daki owns.

You guess you could consider yourself lucky that you and your best friend are the same size. Sure, you’ve shared clothes with each other throughout the years, but once she started her “collection” of designer products, it was game over. You became her personal doll, then, and Daki loved every second of it.

The smile on your face grows at Daki’s excitement. “Who else would I have to pick me out the perfect outfit?” you coo. Daki giggles, then, her green eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Chop, chop,” she says, pushing your feet away and standing up. You take a moment to admire the neatly applied nail polish adorning your toes. “I have the perfect outfit in mind for you, and it’s bound to have Mitsuri drooling all over you!”

“Are you sure about that?” you tease, lolling your head to the side.

Scurrying over to a wrack of dresses (all of which are designer, you’re sure of it), Daki pushes some to the side and grabs one that has you gasping. Powder blue in color, the bustier top and layered tulle skirt almost seem more befitting of a princess rather than yourself. Standing up from the couch, you walk over to her, eager to get a better closer. Lacey pastel flower decorate the top layer of tulle and travel up the bustier, all looking so delicate and sweet. It’s a beautiful dress, that much is for sure.

“I’ll do your hair and makeup, too, okay!” Daki exclaims. She really is too sweet for her own good sometimes.

Later that very evening, you’re sitting in the back of a sleek, luxurious car. Mitsuri sits next to you, looking as perfect as always; with her curled hair pinned high on her head, you’re graced with the elegant slope of her neck, the diamond choker wrapped around her throat. A few curly wisps of pink and green hair frame her face, give her a youthful look. She’s so breathtakingly stunning that it’s leaving your throat dry.

Mitsuri busies herself with messaging someone on her phone – she’s already apologized for letting her work get in the way of your date tonight – but you don’t mind, not when you get to gaze at her lovely being. You’ve already began to familiarize yourself with her brand and the creative looks she specializes in: sultry, elegant, and enough to bring a person to their knees. Perhaps that’s what you tell yourself as your eyes scan over her bare skin; it’s for fashion, of course, not because you’re a shameless pervert.

Still, the choker adorning her throat is a bit too enticing, especially with its delicate chain hanging from its center, nestled between the valley of her voluptuous breasts. Why does she always have to have her cleavage on full display around you? Doesn’t she have any idea how much it makes your brain melt?

“You’re staring,” Mitsuri murmurs, her attention still on her phone. The corners of her mouth curl into a smile. “You’re not distracted, are you, sweets?”

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” you whisper. “It’s not my fault that you’re too pretty.”

A pleasant blush blooms on her face. Sparing a moment to glance at the chauffeur, Mitsuri clicks her screen off and puts her phone back into her purse. “Come here,” she says, her voice dripping with honey. Wrapping an arm around your waist, she pulls you closer, barely brushes her glossed lips against your ear. “You don’t want to start something like that, do you? I don’t want to be rude and ruin the back of this car.”

The giggle in your ear is enough to send shivers down your spine. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean, sweets, is that I don’t want to have someone clean your cum off of this leather.”

You gasp as a wave of heat strikes your very core, wraps around your insides and gives them a good squeeze. “Mommy,” you plead, keeping your voice quiet.

“And your hair and makeup look so nice,” Mitsuri continues. “It’d be a shame to ruin it before you get to show it off.”

Shit, Daki was right. Turns out she knew exactly what she was doing.

“All that matters is that Mommy got to see it,” you purr, leaning more into her warm body. Your eyelashes flutter when her soft breast makes contact with your arm. “It doesn’t matter who else gets to see it.”

The grip around your waist tightens. “(y/n)…”

“Kanroji-san, we’re here,” the chauffeur’s voice suddenly cuts in. It’s enough to snap you back to reality; glancing out the window, you’re greeted with the sight of a brightly lit theatre and a line of patrons waiting at the ticket booth.

“My, my,” Mitsuri says, “looks like it’s going to be a packed house tonight. It’s a good thing I booked some tickets ahead of time, huh?” Turning back to you, she flashes a lovely smile and caresses your cheek. “Have you ever sat in a balcony seat before, darling? You’re going to have a great view.”

“Wait, seriously? Aren’t those super… expensive…?” as you trail off, realization dawns upon you. Of course Mitsuri would buy out some of the most expensive seats in the house – it’s only natural of her to do so. Still, the mere idea of how much they even spent throws your mind in for a loop.

“And your reaction makes it even more special,” Mitsuri purrs. “Come on, let’s go get seated while there’s still time.”

Opening the car door, Mitsuri steps out, and then she promptly turns back to you to help. Linking her arm around yours, she leads you inside the theatre; taking some twists and turns, she leads you up a secluded staircase that, in turn, takes you to the proper balcony. A gasp escapes from your mouth before you can stop it. It’s utterly breathtaking from where you are, the large stage set below you, the sea of people swarming to find their own seats.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Mitsuri asks you as she joins you by the ledge. Setting her elbows on the wall, she looks around the theatre, a thoughtful hum vibrating in her throat. “And just think, sweets, that this is all for you.” Turning to you, she perches her chin in a hand. “I’ll show you so many things that you’ll love, darling. It’s the least I can do.”

“Mitsuri,” you murmur. Swallowing thickly, you push back the creeping urge to cry. How did you get so lucky meeting someone so genuinely sweet?

“Hey now,” Mitsuri continues, still using that honeyed tone, “don’t get sappy. If you start to cry, then I’ll start crying as well!”

Beckoning you over, she takes her seat and watches as you take the one next to hers. The balcony itself is small, with enough room only for three seats. And, as far as it seems, you’ll get to spend the entirety of the play alone with Mitsuri, away from wandering eyes. Hands intertwined with hers, the two of you fall into easy conversation and mild flirting to pass the time. Both of you are practically petting each other’s thighs through your dresses when the door opens; snapping hands away from each other, you turn to see who the unexpected newcomer is.

“Giyuu?”

Coming to an abrupt stop at the sound of his name, Giyuu’s eyes widen. Once he sees it’s only you and Mitsuri, he visibly relaxes, his shoulders slumping. “Um… Hello, ladies. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Drawing around the corner, he stands awkwardly before the empty seat. He offers a polite bow, but you notice right away that his eyes refuse to meet yours.

“This is certainly a pleasant surprise!” Mitsuri chirps, a dazzling smile spreading on her features.

“Tomioka-san,” you say, trying to put his nerves at ease, “please, sit down. I don’t bite.”

Still, Giyuu refuses to meet your eyes, but he does as you say and takes the seat next to you. It may be the dim light of the theatre, but you swear there’s a faint blush on his cheeks.

Okay, time to try this again. “Tomioka-san… I wanted to thank you for last time. For trying to comfort me when I was so obviously out of place at that party.”

At that, Giyuu clears his throat, and then he finally looks at you. Instead of saying anything, though, he merely grunts and nods his head. You offer him a small smile.

Just as you remember, he’s devastatingly handsome, his gaze a cold, steely blade. On the outside, he seems incredibly intimidating; dark hair, black getup, sharp eyes. You know there’s more than what meets the eye, and Giyuu is the epitome of that very concept. The aura surrounding him is calming, reassuring. You barely know the guy, only met him once, but you already like him.

“My, Giyuu,” Mitsuri speaks up, leaning forward in her seat so she can look around you, “don’t you look nice! I always told you that you would look great in black on black, but you never listen to me! Now look at you! You look like you just came straight off a runway! Don’t you think so, (y/n)?”

Mitsuri has a point, of course. Dressed in a black suit, black button up, and black shoes, Giyuu is the textbook definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He almost seems flustered by Mitsuri’s comment; he looks to you, an unreadable glint in his eyes. Slowly, you nod, humming your agreement.

“I think he looks absolutely dashing,” you say, a small giggle following afterwards.

Giyuu’s eyes drift down, skim across your pretty dress, but you notice the way they linger over the bits of your bare skin. Hastily clearing his throat, his eyes flicker back up, the blush on his cheeks darkening the slightest bit. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs. “That color really suits you.”

With a smile, you look away, trying to ignore the excited thumping of your heart. Unbeknownst to you, Mitsuri sends Giyuu a glare, but then it melts away into a knowing look. Giyuu catches her eyes, and a silent conversation passes between the two of them.

Perhaps you should’ve paid more attention to them. You should’ve noticed Giyuu’s lingering stares, the way Mitsuri’s hand stayed on your thigh the entire time. But no, you were so enraptured by the play on the stage, stuck in a state of constant awe by the performer’s exquisite ways.

It’s about three fourths of the way through when Mitsuri finally places her lips against your ear, her warm breath fanning across the delicate skin. “Sweets, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, hmm? You’re ruining the experience for Giyuu.” Confused by what she meant, you begin to turn your head to her, but she quickly stops you in your place. “Now, now, don’t make it so obvious. Instead of watching the show, he’s been watching you. I wonder why that is?” She breaks into a low, sultry laugh. You’ve only seen her act this one once, and that was when the two of you…. Well, you know…

“I noticed the way you were looking at him earlier,” Mitsuri continues. “He really is such a pretty man, isn’t he? Especially dressed in all black like that… It’s almost kind of exciting, isn’t it?” Again, she chuckles. “Now, this is entirely up to you, sweets, but I don’t have a problem sharing.”

What? What was that supposed to mean?

“I know, I know, this is all too sudden, but think about it. He’s a pretty man, wouldn’t you agree? I’m not saying you have to, but wouldn’t it be nice to see him in between your legs?”

This time, you snap your head to her. “Mitsuri!” you whisper-yell, “What the hell are you trying to do?!”

“Don’t act so prudish, sweets,” she purrs, her fingers trailing over your jaw. “Just look at him.” Taking your chin in hand, she directs you to look at Giyuu instead. Only one half of his face is illuminated from the light coming from the stage, but you can see the hungry glint in his eyes. “He’s practically undressing you with his eyes, sweets. How does that make you feel?”

“Tomioka-san…”

“Please don’t consider me lewd,” Giyuu starts, his voice just above a raspy grumble. “But I… I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he confesses. “It isn’t fair to you of me thinking that way.”

Swallowing thickly, you release a shaky breath. “And what were you thinking, exactly…?”

Closing his eyes, Giyuu takes a moment to collect himself. “I want what you and Mitsuri have.”

On your other side, Mitsuri giggles. “Hear that, darling? Isn’t that so endearing? Giyuu practically just confessed to you!” Leaning in close, she presses her soft breasts against you. “And I’m perfectly okay if you want to say yes. Everyone deserves some happiness, hmm? Don’t be shy, now. Neither of us are foolish.”

This really is all too sudden. You never your night to head in this direction, nevertheless hear Giyuu tell you that he wants what you and Mitsuri have. Does that mean he also wanted to have a certain arrangement between the two of you? It’s not like you’re against it – Giyuu is certainly handsome, after all – but wouldn’t that make you seem desperate?

“If you’re on the fence about it, why don’t you give a go, just for tonight?” Mitsuri suggests. “We can forget all about it if you want. And if you don’t, well… Things should be fun, shouldn’t they?”

“I… I guess.”

“Wonderful. Giyuu, I give you my blessing to make an impression on our sweet little darling here,” Mitsuri purrs. “Don’t mess it up for yourself.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Giyuu grunts. He holds out a hand, then, a silent question displayed on his face. You glance between his face and his hand; your mind is rapidly going in loops, wondering just what he had in mind exactly. Gingerly, you place your hand in his, gasping when he suddenly yanks you up as he stands. “We won’t be gone for long,” he mutters at Mitsuri.

Mitsuri waves a dismissive hand, an uncharacteristic smirk playing on her pretty face. “Take your time. I know that you’ll need it.”

Giyuu pulls you away, leaving a giggling Mitsuri in your wake. The door to the balcony closes with a click that echoes down the silent hallway. Now that you’re completely alone with him, the realization of what this whole ordeal means comes crashing into you. Giyuu is being dead serious about this, and, well, you are too, apparently.

The two of you remain quiet as he pulls you down the hallway, his grip on your hand both gentle yet strong. He stops outside of a bathroom door, glancing both ways before dragging you in; after he’s checked for any potential bystanders in the bathroom, he locks the door. It’s then that you realize that this is the first time seeing him in bright lighting, but damn he looks just as fine. This is the first time that you’ve also stood directly next to him as well. He’s a lot broader than you anticipated, his shoulders tapering into slim hips.

“I meant it when I said it,” he tells you. The sheer sincerity of his voice strikes something deep within you, leaves you rooted to the spot. “This isn’t the way I wanted things to play out, but I uh, had someone put this little idea in the back of my head and it won’t go away.”

“You… really couldn’t stop thinking about me? I’m flattered, Tomioka-san. I didn’t know I left such an impression on you.”

“Heh. You’d be surprised.” Your breath catches in your throat as takes both of your hands in his, his thumbs drawing soothing circles into the skin. “Listen… I’m not… I’m not really good at this thing,” he says, voice low. “Relationships have never really been my forte.”

Ah, so that explains a lot.

“I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I never pegged you for the sweet type,” you tell him.

“It’s called being considerate. I know plenty of people who wouldn’t hesitate to screw someone over.”

“You’re so serious, Tomioka-san. I can… Let me help you relax. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Giyuu hums, pulls you closer. “It’s not too late to turn back, but I really want this,” he murmurs. “Humor me?”

Before you know it, you’re backing up, the back of your thighs colliding with the counter; Giyuu lifts you with ease, setting your ass on the counter, and slipping between your legs. His mouth descends upon yours, touch almost featherlight as he kisses you. You urge him to press harder, your hands abandoning his hold and grabbing onto the lapels of his jacket instead. Giyuu grunts as you pull him even closer; sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, you pull it outward, relishing in the hiss that escapes him.

You shouldn’t be surprised with the way things go; time blurs, yet the moments seem so sharp. The pretty tulle of your skirt gathers around your hips, Giyuu’s strong hands gripping onto your thighs in such a way that it seems like he’s afraid to let you go. His mouth bleeds gold as you take kiss after kiss away from him, tongue sweeping into his mouth and licking away at the insides.

Things only grow more intimate from there; soon enough, you’re unbuttoning his shirt, hands pressing in and drifting across his skin. He’s surprisingly fit, but then again, it only adds to his godly visage. He’s openly moaning into your mouth at this point, hips bucking forward and seeking out that delicious friction. You choke on a moan as his clothed cock drags across your slit. Your panties are beyond ruined at this point, soaked all the way through and leaving a mess on the front of his slacks.

“Mmph – I bet you feel even better inside,” Giyuu breathes. “I want to… I want to see you wrapped around my cock.”

“Yes, Giyuu, yes,” you plead. Frantically, you undo the pants of his slacks, slip your hand inside his boxers.

“Ah, fuck,” he hisses. His hips absentmindedly buck into your touch, a groan rumbling deep in his chest. His voice is so low, so fucking gravelly – it’s wonderful, and fuck if you wouldn’t want to listen to it on loop.

Your insides tighten at the schlick, schlick, schlick noise that fills the bathroom, echoing all around you. Your pussy clenches around nothing, another drop of arousal seeping through your panties. “You said you wanted what I have with Mitsuri, right?” you purr. “Let me… Let me call you Daddy.”

It’s clear that the name causes something to snap inside of him; a growl rips itself from his throat, and his eyes flash with a darker, more animalistic gleam. Urging your hand off of him, he promptly pushes your panties to the side; your body tenses with excitement, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. Giyuu moans as he sheathes his cock inside of you, his hands gripping onto your legs and wrapping them around his slim hips.

“Oh, baby,” he purrs, his hands slamming down on the counter either side of you, effectively caging you in. “Feels so good… so tight…”

“Daddy, come on,” you whine, “we don’t have all night. You wanted this, remember? So fuck me, already. Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Giyuu murmurs into your ear. Sliding his hips away, he snaps his cock right back in, your velvety walls eagerly sucking him in. “I plan on doing so much more. You won’t regret it, baby. Not on my watch.”

“Just don’t ruin the dress,” you mutter, placing your lips against the pounding vein in his neck. “It’s not mine and I really don’t feel removing your cum from it.”

Giyuu sucks a breath in through his teeth as you suck a mark into his flesh. “Then I guess I’ll just have to cum inside, huh…?”

“I fucking dare you.”

“That sounds like a challenge, baby. Don’t mind if I do…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, they’ve been gone for a while, now,” Mitsuri says quietly into her phone. “Giyuu really needed to let loose, huh?”

“That sneaky little bastard,” Kyojuro says. He sighs. “And I invited for a night out, too. Dammit. Why does everyone else get to have fun while I don’t?”

Mitsuri giggles. “You’re really that jealous of Giyuu, huh? It’s actually really funny. Maybe I should tell Tengen, just to see what his reaction is like!”

“What, so he can join in on your little ‘arrangement’ you’ve got going on? What about me, huh? I thought we were friends!”

“And we are! If (y/n) wants anything to do with you, that’s entirely up to her. Wait, hold on – the door just opened. Talk to you later, Kyojuro!”

“Wait, Mitsuri-“

Click.

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny pillars x reader #kny hashira x reader #kny pillars #kny hashira #diamonds are a girl's best friend series

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novelconcepts · 3 years

Note

for the prompt, please do dani and jamie with 22 thank you :)

prompt: kissing someone’s cuts/bruises/scratches

Jamie can’t remember the last time she needed someone to tend her cuts and scrapes. Can’t remember, even, the last time she wanted as much from another person. There’s something too vulnerable about holding out an open wound and saying, Here. Please. I can’t do it alone.

Jamie can do it alone, is the thing. Has done for so long, she’s forgotten what it was to want another person’s skin brushing her own, another person’s eyes concerned for her well-being. It’s become second-nature, pushing all of that aside. How many times has she wandered into the kitchen, a cloth pressed firmly to a torn-open patch of wrist or palm, and scoffed at Owen’s worry? How many times has Hannah strolled into the room to find her bracing an ice pack against a freshly-bruised knee, rolling her eyes heavenward at her own clumsy misfortune? It’s natural, courting injury as she maneuvers the grounds. Almost easier than it should be.

She’s never wanted anyone to fix it for her. Never trusted, if she’s honest, anyone to have the touch. People are too soft. Too twitchy about doing damage. As if there’s any helping a thing like that.

She’s never wanted it--

But Dani, meeting her in the doorway of the greenhouse, has an expression she’s never seen before. Not open worry, not nauseous distaste--an almost perfect, steady calm.

“Let me.”

No question mark at the end of the sentence. No hopeful sway to Dani’s hips, no itchy pull of Dani’s fingers along the elbows of her own jumper. Dani’s face is set, determined, almost as though she’s been waiting for this day since the first time their eyes met.

“No need,” Jamie says, though her head is pounding. Dani is plainly unimpressed.

“C’mere. Sit down.”

She can’t explain why she obeys; her body seems primed to follow instruction, perhaps as evidence of a concussion. There is a split above her brow where a tumbling branch caught her just right, and privately, she’s relieved--that it was her standing beneath the tree as the wind jerked it out of place, and not one of the kids. Jamie had been quick enough to dodge aside. If it had been Flora, if it had been Miles...

Better me. I can take it.

Dani has a kit in hand, she realizes, lifted from the manor bathroom. Sitting beside Jamie on the sofa, she tears open a single-use alcohol wipe. She hesitates only once, one hand hovering beside Jamie’s jaw; when Jamie nods, that hand takes her chin, fingers splayed gently to tip her head back.

“Deep breath.”

“I’m fine,” Jamie starts to say, the words hissing out of her when Dani angles the wipe against the edge of the wound. It’s small, thankfully--the branch had been, too, though Jamie knows better than anyone that size is no measure of danger--but the sting clenches her teeth together. She closes her eyes, trying her best to disassemble the pain and piece it back together into a more enjoyable sensation.

Not the burn, but the soft pressure of Dani’s hand on her skin.

Not the throb running a path along her skull, but the warmth of Dani’s breath mingling with her own.

Maybe this isn’t better, she realizes. Maybe it is infinitely worse, fixing on Dani’s knee pressed to her thigh, Dani’s hand cradling her cheek as though she doesn’t even know she’s doing it. Her eyes flick open to find Dani leaning close, inspecting the wound with an unflappable composure.

“It isn’t deep,” she says. “Might scar a little, though.”

“Not my first,” Jamie quips before she can stop herself. Dani’s eyebrows raise, her lips curving in a small smile.

“You’ve got stories.”

Not a question--and not a pressure, either. Just an easy statement. Sometimes, this is just Dani’s way: neat, straightforward, to the point. Jamie wonders what kind of life shapes a woman this way, to navigate the grip of anxiety one moment and turn utterly steadfast the next. She’d like to know. She’ll never push. Dani is a co-worker, nothing more; the last thing Jamie needs is to go crossing bounds again.

“Thank you,” she says, as Dani fishes out a bandage and some tape. “Didn’t, uh. Didn’t need--”

Dani silences her with another smile, tinged with something so like sadness, it puts any knock on the head to shame. “When I was little,” she says, “I was always getting hurt. I was a clumsy kid, I guess. Fell down a lot--out of trees, off my bike. My dad was always the one to take care of it.”

Jamie says nothing. This is the most Dani’s ever spoken directly to her, and she finds the bounce and curve of her Midwestern accent strangely comforting.

“He wasn’t really a typical dad that way, I guess,” Dani goes on, gently holding the cotton bandage up to the wound. She reaches down, clasps Jamie’s wrist, eases her up to hold the square in place. “Hang onto that a sec. My dad, he was...softer than other kids’. He always knew how to clean my scrapes without making me cry. Never quite got the hang of that, after--he died when I was eight, I dunno if you knew that--”

Jamie shakes her head. Dani, patiently cutting a strip of tape, shrugs.

“Got sick. Was gone almost before I knew it. And my mom was never...much good at any of that, so I had to learn how to patch myself up. The alcohol was always the worst part. Almost.”

“Almost?” Jamie repeats. Dani is replacing her hand with deft fingers, adhering the bandage with simple efficiency. When she checks a mirror later, she suspects the whole affair will be neat, orderly, perfectly applied.

“Yeah,” Dani says, leaning back to observe her handiwork. She seems satisfied, piling everything back into the first aid kit, closing it with a click. “Worst part was after. He would always find the best bandaid--something brightly-colored, or with cartoon characters--and then he’d lean over whatever I’d busted open that day, and he’d kiss the spot twice. Once for forgiveness, he always said, to let the skin know he didn’t blame it for bleeding. And once for healing. Two kisses, every time. It felt like magic. I could never...”

She quiets, her smile fading. It’s too easy for Jamie to imagine a small girl with a blonde braid, kissing her own scraped knee after a fall, knowing full-well it wouldn’t be the same. Too easy to imagine Dani at eight--eleven--thirteen, patching herself back together on her own.

“Well,” Jamie says, clearing her throat. “You left a bit out, then.”

Dani raises her eyes, frowning. “Sorry?”

“Did the patching,” Jamie points out. Her mouth is weirdly dry, her head thundering away. This is, she senses, navigating too close to the brink of something. Friendship, maybe. Or just Dani thinking she’s making fun. And still, she can’t stop herself. “Seems like you forgot the magic.”

Dani hesitates, her hands folded in her lap. She’s picking, Jamie realizes, at one cuticle, nearly enough to tear the skin.

“Go on, then,” she adds, heartened to see Dani’s grave expression tilting toward the sun. “Forgiveness and healing. Could use a little of both, maybe.”

She doesn’t know what she expects, exactly--even saying this feels like the product of insanity, a crack on the head urging her toward things she’d never normally try--but Dani draws a breath. Folds a hand around the back of her head, fingers sifting into curls. Leans forward.

It hurts, a little, Dani pressing her lips to the bandage, though she knows Dani is being gentle. Hurts a little, and sparks something Jamie hadn’t meant to let in, too. She closes her eyes, Dani’s kiss seeming to scorch.

“Once for forgiveness,” Dani murmurs, lips brushing the skin of her forehead. Another kiss, sweet and soft and sending an electric charge down her spine. “Once for healing.”

She doesn’t lean back, not right away--her hand is warm, her eyes searching Jamie’s, and for a single beat, Jamie wants to tilt her chin. Coax that gentle kiss to find her lips. Change it all.

The concussion, she assures herself, responsible for the reckless impulse. Responsible, too, for the thread of disappointment coiling in her stomach when Dani removes her hand, places it back in her lap, shakes her head almost ruefully.

“He was better at it.”

“Maybe,” Jamie says. “But I can be clumsy, too. Stay long enough, you might get enough practice to measure up.”

Dani meets her eyes, looking embarrassed, looking delighted. Jamie rubs the back of her neck, casting around for a way out of this hole she’s dug.

“Listen to me. Take enough thumps to the head, I’m gonna starting spewing puns like Owen.”

“Oh no,” Dani laughs. “Anything but that.”

She has to go, she explains, back to the kids. Jamie’s welcome to join them--she’s got a game of cards planned, and they could use a fourth. Jamie almost agrees. Almost lets herself follow Dani into the house, her fingers straying mindlessly to brush the fresh bandage sealed with a kiss.

“Shouldn’t,” she says--to Dani, to herself, to the burgeoning heat in her cheeks as she recalls how gently Dani had pressed her lips to the wound. “Work to be done, y’know.”

Dani nods. “See you at dinner?”

She should say no to that, too. Should go home to her little flat, to the quiet which always makes perfect sense, which never turns up with a first aid kit and assertive hands.

“Yeah. Dinner.” She’s smiling. Dani, leaning against the doorframe, is, too.

“No more knocks on the noggin,” she adds with mock-gravity. Jamie snorts, gives a careless little salute.

“No fuckin’ promises.”

It’s difficult to say what’s harder to ignore, when Dani’s gone and the work rises up to meet her once more. Hard to say which part--the thumping of the headache, or the memory of Dani Clayton’s lips pressed to her forehead--has a greater hold on the rest of her day. No one asks, and she’s honestly relieved.

If asked, Jamie would insist the headache has won out. If asked, she’d have no other choice.

If asked, Jamie would absolutely lie.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #dani x jamie #damie #physical affection tag

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