#this is a snippet I cut from my WIP the spiral staircase | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

konigbabe · 10 months

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I almost choked when I saw Gojo 🤩 the whole WIP list looks amazing, but I would love to know more about lions den! I honestly can't think anything I want more than Gojo + your amazing writing 🖤

Oh my god, yes! With season 2 coming out next month my spark for that blindfolded fool was ignited once again recently 😄🩵

That one’s slowly turning into a fic with how many ideas I have for it, even though it was meant to be pure smut. I’m still figuring out the proper details and working on my characterization of Gojo (he’s more complicated than I thought) so there’s no definite date as to when I wanna post it. I have my own deadline to finish it before S02E01 but…

Anyway, here’s a snippet from the very little I have written so far 🫶🏻:

Thin pieces of parchment paper stick to every corner of the room, decorated with delicate strokes of red writing. You’ve seen such thing before; your grandmother used to have such ornaments hanging around her house.

That’s when it hits you.

It’s a basement. Not a room.

You’re in a stranger’s basement.

Springing up from the mat, your hand reaches for a near table, steaming your weakened body while your head spins.

Your hand slides along the rough texture of the basement wall, fingertips gliding delicately over the surface as you make your way toward the door. The sensation of the dainty paper seals beneath your touch adds a layer of curiosity to your already troubled state.

With cautious steps, you ascend the cold concrete steps that lead to the locked barrier separating you from the outside.

“Fuck—“

Your silent dread starts spilling into frustration with each tug at the door; barely audible against the backdrop of silence.

To no avail, the door’s not budging. Pressing your palm against the cool material, you push. With added determination, your strength still fails to reach your goal.

It’s then that a faint sound stops your next movement.

A whistle. Echoing on the other side of the door. Ear pressed cautiously against the surface, you listen carefully. Whistling a tone; a song of unknown origin, the sound’s only growing louder.

It’s coming your way.

The person’s steps near the door before you quickly descend the short staircase. The room doesn’t offer any hiding spot; and it’s probable that the person coming is well aware of your situation. Be it the one that took you or–

(The best defense is a good offense.)

And it might be your only solution to this whole messy ordeal.

–the door creaks open the same moment your back meets the wall right next to the stairs. A small lamp, previously the only decoration of a single drawer, is now in your grasp. Fingers wrapped tightly around the cylindrical base, you wield the lamp as a makeshift weapon, its weight providing a comforting reassurance in your hand. Adrenaline courses through your veins, heightening your senses and sharpening your resolve.

The whistling stops. A moment of silence falls upon the room as the stranger’s movements still. Standing by the open door, a faint sound spirals through the air; a snicker.

At least it sounds that way.

With each leisured step, the rhythmic thuds reverberate through the air, drawing closer to where you lie in wait. As the source of the footsteps comes into view, your gaze is met with a tall figure.

The man, rather young by the soft features of his face, executes an undeniable air of confidence. He cuts a striking figure, his lean form garbed in a zip-up jacket of dark purple hue, accompanied by pants of the same color.

However, what throws you off guard is the cloth over his eyes. A blindfold. The dark fabric a stark contrast to his snow-white hair.

He’s blind; you note while letting him take another step.

A surge of courage courses through your veins as you witness the stranger's blindfolded visage.

The back of his head is towards you. That’s when you make your decision.

In a swift and calculated motion, you unleash your attack. Propelled by a surge of primal instinct, you propel yourself forward, closing the gap between you and the unsuspecting figure before you. The lamp in your grasp becomes an extension of your determination–

Fingers slipping, adrenaline pumping, the rhythmic pounding of your eardrums mirrors the frantic beat of your heart. With a resolute swing, a pure animalistic instinct of fight or flight, your hope rises as the lamp leaves your grasp, its trajectory aimed perfectly at the back of the man’s head.

— before it shatters in thin air.

#wip #moni answers #answered #gojo satoru x reader

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wheezykat · 3 years

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WIP Game: please tell me about What You See?

Hi Tee! Thanks for the ask!

OOF. This is embarrassing 😂 - but this is (was?) my LCD entry that I decided not to self-prompt bc deadlines are terrifying. I still absolutely adore the idea I had, and literally completely outlined the entire thing and wrote a few scenes, but ya know, threshold apprehension. I already put so many hours into it, and like what I’ve done, so I’ll probably finish it at some point. It’s based on the film Those People. Which is absolutely fabulous, by the way!

It starts at the beginning with a prologue during 8th year, introducing you to Harry and Draco becoming friends as they’ve been forced to share a dorm (one of my fave tropes 😂). The friend group eventually blends together between the war survivors, focusing particularly on Harry, Draco, Hermione, Ginny, Pansy and Theo. Then we fast forward a few years, and the group is all living in the city, with Harry going to Uni for an MFA in magical painting. Draco is a typical pureblooded trust fund kid, living the high life and all that - but his family becomes embroiled in scandal yet again when Lucius is arrested and sent to Azkaban for financial fraud.

It’s a character study of sorts, which falls in line with the film’s plot nicely. Harry and Draco are best friends, and Harry is next-level pining over Draco (and he’s completely aware of it). It explores what it means to grow up, how to separate yourself from the past, the way you adapt to changing friendships and relationships, and in general, feels.

Snippet below the cut for you! <3

ask me something about my WIP folders!

Harry entered the penthouse, a slight smile across his face, blood buzzing beneath his skin. Humming under his breath and throwing his keys onto the kitchen counter, he replayed his afternoon spent with Tim. They had gone to the local park, lounging on a picnic blanket beside the large pond, soaking in the sunshine, shyly stealing kisses from each other between reproachful looks from strangers. So wrapped up in each other and their blooming happiness, he could hardly be bothered by it.

Frowning as he noticed the unusually quiet penthouse, Harry glanced around looking for Draco, a compass always searching for due North. He slowly meandered through the flat, first checking the study and the sitting rooms, eventually moving on from his usual haunts. Deciding to head up the spiral staircase towards the bedrooms, Harry saw a faint glow peeking out from beneath the door to his room. He hesitated just as he lifted a hand to the knob, listening carefully for any hint of sound, heart clenching, as it was wont to do when thinking about Draco, beautiful, ethereal Draco, tumbling in the sheets with yet another stranger.

Waiting just a moment longer before deciding the coast was clear, he rapped his knuckles lightly against the door before entering.

Draco was barely more than a misshapen lump in his bed, linens and pillows piled around him like armor, body wrapped up tight, just a hint of his tousled platinum peeking out.

“Hey,” Harry murmured softly, slowly making his way over, careful, so careful, as he always needed to be these days. Not daring to utter another word until Draco responded, gave him some sort of clue of what was upsetting him this time.

He watched the rise and fall of his back under the blankets, stopping just beyond the edge of the mattress, waiting with bated breath. Which Draco would he face tonight? The soft spoken, articulate, sensitive man he’d come to know over the years? Or the flighty, temperamental Draco, jumping to irrational conclusions, flinging scathing words like hexes?

“Why are you home? Don’t you have something better to do at Tim’s?”

Ah.

Harry nodded slightly to himself, sucking in a soft breath, biting his cheek to keep himself from lashing back. Draco clearly wanted a fight, was just in one of those moods. Harry promised himself that he just wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t give into the temptation to become defensive, to meet him with harsh words or angry jabs.

“He was playing tonight, down at that posh place off Clarendon.” Harry cleared his throat, head bowed. ”I thought we could hang out.”

Draco scoffed under his breath, barely discernible but for the silence that filled the room. He ducked down even further under his fortress, sighing heavily.

“Just go-” Draco sniffed, rubbing his cheek against the soft pillows, still refusing to look at him. “Please leave me alone, Harry.”

Feeling unbearably unsure, raw at the seams, tired of the extreme mood swings and tension between then, he almost does. But he knows Draco better than that, better than anyone.

Instead, toeing his trainers off, he cautiously crawled into the bed beside Draco. Settled onto his back, arms lax beside him, the room thick with unspoken words. Harry stared helplessly up at the ceiling, waiting.

Always waiting.

He didn’t know how long they laid there in the quiet, their soft breaths echoing, before Draco spoke again, whispering into the dim room hesitatingly, voice thin and shaky.

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Unsure where this is coming from, Harry sighed, pushing his glasses up and rubbing his palms against his face. He dropped his hands back to the bed, inches from Draco’s back, before responding.

“No.”

Draco sucked in a sharp, trembling breath.

“You hesitated,” he laughed self deprecatingly, ”Fuck… you hesitated.”

He sounded like he was on the edge, about to break into a thousand pieces, voice reedy and soft, and so timid. Harry’s not used to him, being like this. He feels a weariness set into his bones, a deep sadness spiraling in his heart, squeezing tight until he can barely breathe. It’s blistering, burning. It’s too much.

He rolled over, carefully, so carefully, tremulously raising a hand to hover over Draco’s back, just beyond his reach.

“No,” he whispered, sure of one thing- the only thing- he can say, “There was no hesitation, Draco.”

Harry shuffled closer to him, slowly, as if approaching a scared animal, until he was right up against him, his hitching breaths vibrating against his chest. Harry wrapped a hand around him, softly, unsure, as he tucked his chin over Draco’s shoulder, leaning into him. Relishing the closeness of him, the warmth against him. Hating that it doesn’t mean what he wants it to, that he’s only here because Draco is shattering, and needs him to pick up the pieces and put him back together again. Again, and again, and again.

His lips brushed against Draco’s neck, the only bit of skin he could reach, the only place that would be unquestioned, strands of silver tickling his nose with each breath.

“You’re the best person I know.”

#WIP folder asks #wips asks #ask and you shall receive #wheezykat answers #my writing #kat writes

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