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bb-sg · 1 year

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Devoured

Gojo Satoru x Vampire!reader

CW: Shameless smut, dub con, yandere gojo, rough, violence, blood play, knife play, cursing, degradation, praise, female anatomy. MDNI. Reader is on the prowl when she runs into a certain white-haired sorcerer.

Halloween was your favorite day of the year.

It was the one day that you could truly be yourself, no hiding who you were. Or what you were. People dressed up in costumes of characters they love, dressing up to show off their looks, or pretending to be monsters. Little did they know that real monsters walk among them every day, monsters like you.

You’ve been alive in this world for over one hundred years, lying low and usually strictly drinking from animals to avoid drawing attention to yourself. Recently, you’ve been craving more. During this day and age, it was easy to find willing human participants. Vampires were popular in many cultures; you had found numerous sites and fandoms that craved to be fed from. At first you refused to engage with that community, but curiosity and gluttony got the best of you. You could never deny that human blood was divine.

Which is why you were sitting in a crowded bar on Halloween, waiting to meet a man that you met through social media. He begged and pleaded to meet a real-life vampire. You sat at the bar, waiting for the man to show up but he was running late, and you were running out of patience. You had already had numerous shots, the bar tender had wanted to cut you off 4 shots ago, but you convinced him you were more than capable of handling your liquor. Your mind was starting to get hazy. People swayed and danced to the music around you, laughing and giggling while showing off their attire.

It would be so easy.

They were easy prey, their sweet blood reeked with alcohol and drugs, not that you minded. It would still be a delicacy even if it was tainted. You scoffed to yourself, the alcohol clouding your judgement while you looked around the room, assessing each person in the bar. The cute woman dressed like a slutty cat would be a piece of cake, you could get her back to your house with a few charming words and a couple more shots in her system. Or maybe you should take home the cute bartender, who has not so subtly been eyeing you up and down since you sat at the bar.

You continued scanning the bar until you saw a white-haired man sitting on the other side of the bar, staring back at you. He lounged on the couch, taking up as much space as physically possible. One of his strong arms draped on the top of the couch and a drink in his other hand. His long legs were spread open wide, almost as if he was inviting you to sit between them.

You laughed, trying to shake off the urge to approach him but the intensity of his gaze drew you to him. He was handsome, with sharp features, beautiful hair, and clear porcelain skin. He wore an expensive looking suit, perfectly tailored to fit his muscular build, and showed off his toned arms. His most notable feature was his eyes. In all your years, you’ve never seen anyone with eyes that blue, they looked like diamonds that were floating in the ocean. They bore a hole through you, fixating on you alone.

When you were human, he would have made you nervous, too shy to attempt to talk with him. Now, you finished another shot, smoothed out the tight mini dress that clung to your body and swayed your hips as you walked toward him. He gave you a wicked smile, watching every step you took. You sat down on the couch next to him, crossing your legs seductively. His gorgeous eyes trailed up and down your body, stopping at where your fingers were playing with the end of your dress.

“What are you supposed to be?” You questioned.

His smile grew and he leaned in and whispered, “A killer”.

You smirked and nodded; he was not what you were expecting. He bit his bottom lip while he looked you up and down once more.

“Based off how you are dressed, you must be a model.” His voice was playful and flirtatious. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at his pickup line.

“Not quite.” You gave him a sweet smile, showing off your fangs.

“Oh, you’re a vampire?”

“You’re handsome and smart.” You ran your tongue over your teeth before scooting closer to him. He smelled very sweet and enticing, the scent made your mouth water. “Are you here alone?”

“I am. I couldn’t help but notice that you seem to be by yourself as well. Are you waiting for someone?”

He sipped at his drink before setting it down on the table. He turned his body towards you and rested his arm above the couch around you, his fingertips grazed your shoulder. His scent overwhelmed you as he got closer to you. The temptation to devour him right then and there grew with each second you spent in his company.

“What? Are you stalking me?” You asked him and laughed, playfully slapped his chest, lingering a moment to feel his heart beating in his broad chest. The sound of each thump of his heart echoed in your head like a drum. You could barely hear yourself think over its constant pounding.

“Yeah, I am. I’m a killer, remember?” He broke out in a mischievous smile. You laughed again, throwing your head back and dazzling him with a beautiful smile.

“How could I forget? I was waiting for someone, but it seems like he stood me up.” You pretended to pout, even though you were glad that the vampire fanatic you were supposed to meet didn’t show up. The thrill of picking up and seducing this man, tricking him into coming home with you, was amazing. It was like a game of chess, you made slow and strategic moves to get closer and closer to taking the prize.

“He’s an idiot for not showing up for a gorgeous woman like you. I’m Satoru. Let me buy you a drink.”

Pawn to E5.

You gave him your name and accepted his offer. He flagged down a waitress and ordered the two of you drinks. You made small talk with him, exchanging flirtatious quips back and forth. Every few minutes you would move closer to each other, you let your leg rest against his while his hand rested on your knee. His touch was hot against your cool skin, the feeling made you clench your thighs together. His other hand played with a strand of your hair absentmindedly.

Knight to C6.

You adjusted your dress, pulling at the bust, making your breast slightly bounce and grab his attention. He bit his lip while he watched you, eating you up with his gaze. The hunger and lust in his eyes was evident; he made no attempt to hide his desire for you.

Knight to D4. This is too easy.

The waitress returned with your drinks and the two of you talked and drank for some time. Slowly his hand moved up your thigh, pulling you a little closer to him. He gave you his undivided attention, smiling and making you laugh, it was clear that this wasn’t the first time he’s picked up a woman from a bar. He was charming and playful but there was an edge to him too. Underneath the smile and his good looks, you sensed something dark within him.

“So sweetheart, how about you and I get outta here?” He propositioned you, his fingers sliding underneath your dress and dangerously closer to your core. You imagined how those fingers would feel inside you, slipping in between your wet folds, while the taste of his sweet blood lingered on your tongue.

“You have no idea.” You reached out and played with the collar of his shirt, giving him a wide smile that showcased your sharp fangs.

Checkmate.

You arrived at his penthouse after a cab ride filled with light petting and teasing. When he opened the door, you were blown away. His apartment was filled with expensive paintings, exquisite furniture and completely spotless. The minute you stepped in you were overwhelmed with the scent of him all around you. Your excitement grew, an ache spreading in your stomach.

He shut and locked the door before pulling you against him with a firm grip on your waist. His soft lips ghosted yours, only millimeters from your own.

“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?” He whispered, one of his hands drifting down to your ass, giving it a hard squeeze. You smirked and looked up into his eyes, trying to read him.

“Looking for me? Or just a beautiful woman to take home?” You teased him and ran your fingers up and into his soft hair. He groaned when you took a handful of his locks into your hand, gently pulling his head to the side so his neck was exposed to you. The drumming of blood pumping through the veins in his neck put you in a trance. His laugh shook his body, and the playful aura that was around him seemed to dissipate.

He grabbed your face by your chin, redirecting your focus to his lips as they crashed into yours, hungrily moving with yours. The grip on your ass tightened and held you flush against him. His leg slipped between your legs and his thigh rubbed against your core. The muscles in his thigh tensed when you ground your hips against him.

The feeling of your swelling bud pressed against him made you moan, allowing him the opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth. He tasted sweet with a hint of alcohol. It was intoxicating. His wet tongue wrestled with yours, skimming over your fangs but not hard enough to pierce him.

He picked you up and carried you through the apartment with ease. His large muscles rippled underneath you, while he moved toward the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. You clung to him and kissed him passionately. The taste and feeling of him mixed with the alcohol made your head swim.

He threw you onto his mattress and climbed on top of you. His legs straddled your hips, and one of his large hands held both of yours about your head, pinning you down. He looked down at you, his eyes clouded with lust.

“No, I’ve been looking for you little vampire.” He used his free hand to undo his tie, wrapping the fabric around your wrists, binding them together with a tight knot. He leaned back onto his heels, looking over every inch of you. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers up your spine. You were starting to wonder which one of you was the predator, and which one was the prey.

His hand push the bottom of your dress up revealing your white lace panties underneath. He groaned at the sight of the damp fabric, leaning down close to place his lips against them, lapping at the slick that saturated them. You moaned and arched your back as you felt his tongue lick against your cloth covered pussy, leaving you wanting more.

Satoru inhaled your scent, burying his face against your core, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Fuck, I didn’t expect you to be so sexy. What a shame.” He mumbled to himself before getting off the bed and undressed down to his boxers. His body was impeccable, with a sculpted, and wide chest and broad shoulders with rippling abs that lead down to his long, and thick cock that stood erect. He opened his nightstand and a long, sharp knife emerged from the drawer and he twirled it in his hand skillfully.

You let out a laugh. “What are you going to do, kill me?”

He laughed along with you while circling the bed, moving closer to where your head rested. He stopped and pulled you to the edge of the mattress, letting your head hang off the side. The cold blade run up the column of your neck slowly, threatening to break the skin. It excited you, thrilled you, yet it made you nervous.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” His voice was sweet and warm but his look was dark and cold. He scrapped the knife down to the strap of your dress. He swiftly slipped the cold steel under the strap and cut through it, repeating this action on the other strap. He pulled his boxers down, letting his cock slap against his stomach.

You were getting impatient, wanting to get to the part where you drank him dry while his massive cock filled you up. You opened your mouth wide and looked up at him with pleading eyes. He smirked and stroked his length over you, little beads of precum leaking at the tip.

“So eager, such a little whore. Don’t even think about biting me, little vampire.” He punctuated his statement by pushing his tip into your mouth. The taste of him, both salty and sweet, bloomed on your tongue. He threw his head back and moaned shoving himself deeper and into your throat. His hand wrapped around your neck while he rested the blade against your skin.

He was rough and brutal, fucking your face with abandon, chasing his own high. His aggressiveness made you soak your panties, wishing your hands were free to touch your needy pussy. You breathe through your nose while he kept a consistent pace in and out of your mouth, drool coating his cock and running down your face.

“Fuck. You’re making me second guess this. Maybe I should keep you around after all.” He grunted, his voice breaking a little with every thrust. You tried pulling away from him, something inside you told you to run. He held you down, keeping you from getting away from him. He was strong, intimidatingly strong.

You pulled against the tie wrapped around your arms until it tore, freeing your hands. You pushed back against him hard sending him crashing against the wall behind him. You made a break for it, climbing out of the bed and running to the door. Before you could open it, he threw you against it, your chest slamming into the wood. He pressed himself against you hard, caging you in.

“What the fuck Satoru!” You yelled and tried to push him off you, but he didn’t budge. He was stronger and faster than any other human you had met.

“I told you kitten, I’m a killer. Some people aren’t too happy to have you hanging around town and they sent me after you. I thought it would be harder to get you back here, but you just threw yourself at me willingly.” You felt his chest rumble with a deep laugh, while a hand slipped into your panties, tracing your slit lightly. “Don’t worry, I’ll still give you what you came here for though.”

A moan ripped through your chest when his finger pushed past your entrance, reaching deep inside you. The palm of his hand pressed against your clit, making your legs shake, pleasure coursing through your body.

“You’re so wet, you want this don’t you?” He whispered with his lips pressed into your ear. You placed your palms flat against the door with the intent to push him away from you again, but the feeling of his finger pumping into you stopped you. He dragged his finger along your walls, reaching that spot that made you grind your hips down into his hand.

“You can try to kill me all you want, but you won’t succeed.” Your voice was breathy, not coming off nearly as menacing as you wanted it to.

He slipped another finger into your tight hole, spreading you open and rutting into you harder. You moved your hips in time with his movements, riding his fingers, the fire building in your core. You needed him in every way.

You body tensed as he pumped faster, your pussy squeezing him as you quickly approached your orgasm. Just as you were about to reach your high, he quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you back towards the bed. You hit his chest as hard as you could, but he was unfazed. It was like you completely missed somehow even though you felt your fist make contact with him.

“You can’t hurt me baby, not unless I want you to.” He pulled you back onto the bed and pulled your panties down your legs. He bundled them and sniffed them, breathing in the smell of your arousal. You smiled, baring your fangs at him, but he only smirked.

“You know what I am, now what are you? You’re not normal.” You asked him hesitantly as he crawled onto the bed closer to you. His hands rested on your knees and spread them wide, exposing your dripping pussy. He leaned down to nuzzle his tongue into your warmth.

His hot, wet muscle lapped up your juices, and your eyes fell back as you savored the sensation. The sound of his deep, guttural moan made you clench and ache more. Bright, blue eyes watched as you thrashed and moaned under his touch. He used his thumbs to spread you open while he gently sucked on your bud. Your legs tried to snap shut from the stimulation, but his large frame forced them open. You hissed through your teeth when his fingers slipped back into you, while he lapped and sucked on your sensitive clit. The bed shifted as he started rutting his weeping cock into it, desperately seeking some friction to soothe the throbbing ache in his balls.

“So, you’re some sick vampire hunter or something?” You whispered between moans, barely able to form coherent words while he ravished you like it was his last meal. He slapped your thigh hard, before pushing your legs back, pressing them down against the bed, folding you in half. He loomed over you, imprisoning you under him.

He smiled down at you, another sweet and deceiving smile. You reached a hand up and wrapped it around his neck, squeezing slightly, trying to take control. He allowed you to hold him still, looking down on you expectingly.

“Well, are you going to try to kill me little vampire? Before I fuck you dumb?” His smile widened.

You ran your hand up into his hair and pulled him down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue. You mumbled against his lips, “No, I’ll kill you after”.

He suddenly slammed his cock into you, impaling you on his long cock. The intrusion made you gasp and throw your head back in ecstasy. He didn’t wait for you to adjust before rutting into you harshly. The sound of your slick glazing his cock and skin slapping skin was barely audible over your loud moans.

You kissed him again, opening your mouth to let him in. He groaned into your mouth before his tongue brushed against yours. You waited until the right moment, then quickly bit down on his tongue, drawing blood.

The sweet taste of his blood flooded your mouth as you kissed him and sucked gently at the wound. You were gone, drunk with pleasure and the taste of him coating your throat. He thrusted into you hard, the force pushing you further into the bed. He kissed you passionately, as if he was consuming you just like you were consuming him.

Next, you bit his lip, puncturing his soft skin. Blood trickled down his chin while you drank from him. He groaned and pounded into you faster, the grip he had on one of your legs tightened, spreading you wider. You moaned with every punishing thrust of his hips, his hot skin burning you up.

He broke the kiss and slowly pulled out of you, his eyes glued to the sight of his hard length, shimmering with your arousal, sliding out of your tight pussy. You whimpered at the loss of his touch. He laughed under his breath and sat with his back against the headboard. His oceanic eyes stared at you while he stroked himself.

“Come here little vampire. You’re going to ride me and beg me to fuck you like the whore you are.”

You wiped your mouth, and crawled up the bed to him seductively, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You hovered over the tip of his cock, rubbing it through your folds.

“Don’t act like you don’t want this just as bad as I do, Satoru. Does it turn you on when I do this?” You trailed kisses down his jaw and to his neck, stopping above his pulse point. You pressed your lips against the soft drumming of his heartbeat. You had him right where you wanted him, pliant and offering himself to you. Some killer he was.

Your sharp fangs penetrated his skin, and you drank greedily from his coursing vein as you sank down onto him. A load moan slipped past his lips and your eyes fell shut in bliss. He held you against him, opening his neck up to you, but not allowing you to move on top of him. You were crazed, needing to feel his cock bullying your needy hole, while his taste satisfied your hunger.

“Yeah, but you didn’t beg sweetheart. Don’t make me kill you before you finish, I can feel how badly you want to cum.” He sighed and rested his head against the headboard. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of you feeding off him, his mind was clouded with euphoria. He didn’t imagine it would feel this good, it took every ounce of self-control he had to prevent himself from rutting his hips up into you. The fluttering of your cunt around his aching cock made him groan in agony and need.

With each second that passed, you expected him to grow weaker and faint as you drank more and more of him. You planned to drain him until he was weak enough to release his hold on you, freeing you to bounce on his cock as much as you wanted. That moment never came, his grip even tightened when you tried to wiggle and hump him. At the rate you were feeding from him, he should be out cold or worse.

You were almost full, and he was still trapping you against him with a smile on his face.

“You can’t kill me kitten. Drink to your little hearts content, I can heal myself faster than you can drain me.” His voice brought you out of your trance. Your eyes flew open, and you pulled back, blood dripping from the corner of your mouth. You stared at him, watching the trickle of blood from his wound slow and then come to a halt, the wound closing almost instantly. You froze, trying to understand what was happening. Trying to figure out what he was, who he was.

“Now beg for me.” He stared back at you through white dusted eyelashes while he rolled his pelvis against you once, teasing you.

Your mouth fell open, the fire in your core burning hot again.

“Please, just…please fuck me.” You mumbled, feeling defeated.

He fucked up into you, his cock spreading you wide. The power of his thrust made your breast bounce and jiggle in his face. He let your hips go, electing to rip the remainder of your dress, leaving you completely bare on top of him. You ground clit against him while he pushed himself as deep as your body allowed him to.

“Shit, that’s too deep.” You breathed out.

“Too fucking bad. You got what you wanted, now it’s my turn.” He slurred, while he took your soft breast in his hands. He roughly fondled them, rolling your erect nipples through his fingers. You moaned and leaned into his touch. He was the only thing your mind could focus on, even when you should be trying to figure out how to run away from him.

“This pussy is so sweet, you feel so good.” He moaned, pounding harshly into you. It took your breath away. You hung your head back, your muscles tensing as you felt yourself being blinded by your orgasm. Your legs shook and your cum covered his abdomen and legs as you came.

He smiled up at you, watching your hazy eyes droop down. He pumped into you faster, sweat running down his forehead, your pussy sucking him in as your climax rippled through your body.

“Such a slut, cumming all over your assassin’s cock. Look at you, a vicious monster, drooling on my cock. Too dumb to run away and too weak to kill your victim.” He grunted and wrapped a large hand around your neck, and his other hand grabbed your hip.

He lifted you up and down his twitching member as if you weighed nothing. He fucked you vigorously, driving his hips up into your overstimulated pussy while he brought you down on him. You cried out, his tip slamming into your cervix. He watched where the two of you were connected, gazing at your cum covering both of you and his cock disappearing into your tight cunt. The image of him plunging himself into you while you babbled and gasped made his balls tighten.

His abs tightened as he threw his head back, pumping you full of his hot, sticky cum. He moaned as he came, you couldn’t help but admire how gorgeous he looked, overtaken with lust and pleasure. He let out a shaky breath and released your neck. You sat on top of him while both of you caught your breath.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the glint of the knife on the other side of the bed. Quickly, you leaped for the weapon, but he was faster, kicking you back and off the bed. You landed on the floor with a thud, the impact knocking the wind out of you. As you tried to get up you noticed he was already standing over you. He kicked you in the side, rolling you over on to your back. You scrambled to get up, swinging at him, but he smoothly dodged your attack.

It was now or never. You pushed yourself up and bolted for the door, the human blood giving you extra strength. You ripped the door open and ran for the exit. Just as you unlocked the door, as the doorknob turned and you were almost free, his hand hit the door, forcing it shut again.

“You’re not going anywhere. I have changed my mind though.” His voice was playful and light.

You turned around to face him, pressing yourself against the door to create as much distance from him as possible. He looked down on you, his hair covering one of his otherworldly eyes, a smile gracing his face.

“Don’t look so scared, I decided I’m not going to kill you.”

You waited for a sense of relief, but it never came.

“No, I’m going to keep you here and lock you up. You can do whatever you want in the penthouse and in exchange you’ll take care of the place. You can even spend my money on whatever you want.” He paused, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. “What do ya say?”

You shook your head, fear prickling your skin.

“Hmm, too bad. You don’t really have a choice.” He kissed you again, his arms blocking you in.

“You’re mine now, little vampire.”

--This was so much fun to write, thinking about making it a series. please let me know what you think, I love getting comments from you guys. Reblogging helps spread my work. Thank you for reading!

#gojo satoru #gojo fanfic #gojo #gojo headcanons #gojo saturo #jjk fanfic #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo angst #yandere gojo #yandere #vampire #vampire fanfic #vampire fiction #vampire fantasy

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wilt1ng · 1 year

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Brahms Heelshire One-Shot: PRICE TO PAY

THIS IS NSFW. 18+ ONLY.

Tw: NSFW, Mature Content, and CNC themes/dubcon

Please don't proceed forward if any of those contents make you uncomfortable.

The estate was much larger than you had initially anticipated. Getting inside would be all the more fun seeing as how many doors and windows there were. Having only your backpack you unzipped it to reveal a crowbar, your key to financial freedom. Word had spread a rich family had completely abandoned the estate, drawing in curiosities from thieves and criminals similar to yourself. Well, you were no criminal, merely someone desperate for a cash grab.

The front doors popped open after a few minutes of prying the metal bar between them, first try. You couldn't help but exhale with a smile as you stored the crowbar into the bag.

Too easy.

It was much bigger on the inside than what you previously imagined. As you walked inside you couldn't help but note the condition it was in despite the circumstances. Sure there were cobwebs and the air was stuffy, but it was shocking how intact it was otherwise. Countless of valuable artifacts sat untouched on wooden shelves and you were betting the jewelry box was also full of treasures. Without another second to waste you began bagging some small vases and objects which look to have some value. You left plenty of room within the bag to assure there was space for the real goodies, whether it be pearls or diamonds.

After collecting what you needed you began your journey upstairs. A large family portrait caught your eye. A mother and father sat with their young boy, their smiles seeming fabricated. You gaze at the painting, seeing the faces of the people which you were robbing caused some unease, but you pushed on forward. Making it up the stairs you notice a master bedroom with the door already wide open.

You step inside and begin looking with the bag of stolen junk in hand. After some investigating you finally came across what you were truly after. You opened a small box which sat on the nightstand. It was full of beauties like rubies, pearls, and gold.

"Jackpot."

You whispered to yourself. This was all too easy, and you wondered how it was you were the one who got there first, seeing as the area was notorious for break-ins. Without speculating it a second more, you stuffed the beloved prizes in your backpack, deciding to wear the pearls. The ambiance of the home had shifted seemingly after you had robbed the possessions. Whether it was guilt or paranoia, something just didn't feel right. You stupidly ignored the goosebumps that rose on your skin as you proceeded down the stairs. As you walked past the painting, it carried a heavier weight, as if all the faces were staring at you in anger.

You swung the heavy backpack around both shoulders and quickened your pace to the front door. Your imagination grew wild with thoughts of what you'd do with your new found treasure that you hardly noticed the figure standing in front of the entrance.

Until you did.

You immediately stopped in your tracks and gazed at the man before you.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You had been caught.

"H-hello?" You spoke. Your tone was surprisingly kind, but nervous as you hadn't expected this at all.

You immediately drop the bag off your shoulders and set it on the floor in front of you carefully, maintaining your eyes on the shadowy figure. Panic was setting in as you knew you were busted.

"I..." You spoke gently, clearly wanting to explain yourself but what exactly would you say?

"I, uh, I didn't realize anyone still came through here..."

At this point you still couldn't make out any details about the man. It was dark and the only thing illuminating him was the moonlight from behind.

"Do you live here?" You finally asked, becoming increasingly uncomfortable as he still hadn't said a word.

The figure cocked his head and for a split second you could almost make out his face. There was something uncanny about it that made your skin crawl. He wasn't answering you and you assumed for good reason, he must be pissed off you trespassed on his domain. This wasn't good. Nothing about this situation was.

On a whim you decide to rip open your bag and pull out the crowbar in which you had used to break in. You held it towards him with both hands gripping onto it tightly. He didn't like that.

"Move out of the way." You demanded, looking at the man and then the door behind him.

"I don't care about the bag, just let me leave."

Taking a brave step forward your eyebrows furrowed as you caught a better look. His once white shirt was stained in God knows what and his face was horrifically pale, as if he was wearing a mask. The sight was enough for you to gasp, dropping the crowbar as you jumped back.

He stepped forward, reaching his hand out seemingly to touch you despite the distance you made.

Fuck this.

Without another moment of hesitation you turned on your heels and bolted the opposite way. You could hardly tell if he was following behind as your eardrums were bombarded with the sound of your beating heart.

After making it up the stairs you made the mistake of looking over your shoulder, eyes widening.

The man wasted no time wrapping his hand around your throat and thrashing you towards him, as if you were a ragdoll. You could see his "face" in full if you could even call it that. He was wearing a mask, a porcelain one at that. His deranged eyes bore into your own, and they were so dark it was as if he had black eyes.

You wanted to scream badly. But you couldn't. With being petrified and the pressure around your neck, you couldn't squeak if you wanted to. Your eyes could only plead into his own, wide in terror as to what he'd do to you.

When he had decided to loosen his grip, you noticed his fingers clenching around the pearls you selfishly decided to slip on mid-robbery. Although he was mostly expressionless, you could see the fury in his eyes. The deranged man tore the beads from your neck. You watched as they fell onto the wood floor, the sounds of its impact being the loudest thing in the room.

"Bad." The man uttered softly.

His voice was hoarse, as if it was the first time he had spoken aloud in a while.

Your chest was rising up and down rapidly. It felt as if you were a mere rabbit in the midst of a heart attack. You could do nothing but stand in front of your attacker. Your eyes never left his own. His messy hair hid the whites of his eyes, adding further to your anxiety.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You whispered to him, clenching your eyes shut. You felt as if you couldn't speak any louder.

He ignored you. Instead, he pulled you closer, keeping a solid grasp around your neck.

"You'll pay." He spoke, leaning into your ear.

"-for what you took from me."

You released a panicked breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You felt as if the wind was knocked from your lungs. The sides of your throat tightened from choking back tears, and you couldn't stop yourself from trembling.

"I-I don't have money." You began to cry softly.

"I swear I won't return. Please, I'm begging you."

He sighed, cocking his head to the side as you cried for mercy.

He brought his hand to your cheek, wiping a tear away before fixating on your lips. He swiped his thumb across them, seemingly enjoying the sensation of them.

"Kiss." The man uttered to you, almost gently.

You furrowed your brows, unsure if you had heard him correctly.

He grazed your lips once more before finally staring into your blood-shot eyes.

"A price for your freedom." He answered.

"I-I don't understand." You whimpered, feeling emotionally exerted.

He sighed disappointingly, clearly losing patience with you.

"Kiss me." He spoke again, repeating what you feared he had meant.

"Or..."

He laced his fingers into your hair abruptly, pulling it back as to gain better access into your ear.

"I'll have you."

You shuddered against his lips, which brushed against the side of your face before he returned his darkening gaze onto your own.

"I-" You sputtered, unable to even get out a sentence.

He took your hand in his and walked into the darkened living room. You obliged, following him close out of fear, seeing as you had no other choice. The man stopped in front of a tattered couch and turned to look at you, seemingly waiting for you to make your decision.

You were beyond confused and frustrated but were eventually able to put two and two together. You looked at the vintage styled couch, biting your lip in anticipation before returning your gaze to your captor.

Finally, you sat down.

He stepped to stand in front of you. Your face was mere inches from his torso. You noticed the shirt he wore no longer fit him as it exposed his happy trail and a brutal scar near his abdomen. You tilted your head to look at him. His dominating prescense was enough to strike fear in your heart.

"Kiss." He repeated.

Brahms grabbed your wrist and forced your hand onto his stomach, eventually to the hem of his pants.

You ripped your hand back from him instinctively but instantly regretted it. Brahms took you by the throat and bent down eye level. He took your hand once more and held it to an erection beneath his trousers.

"Kiss... there."

Brahms unbuttoned his trousers while maintaining his domineering stare. You felt stuck in place once again, now understanding the consequences of your actions.

Your heart was merely beating out of your chest as he pulled down his boxers, exposing his cock.

Brahms shuddered at the sight of seeing your face so close to his member. He brought his hand to your face and caressed your cheek, gently, before returning his attention to your lips.

"Kiss."

He took hold of your head and adjusted himself close. You mistakenly gasped, and he took advantage. Brahms forced his tip into your mouth, pushing further as you gagged against the intrusion against your throat.

You tried your best to fight him. You attempted to stand, but he pushed you back onto the couch. He forced you to lay down on your back as he crawled on top, just above your chest. This way, you lay immobile against his efforts. His knees sit on either side of your head as he re-adjusted his cock back into your mouth.

Brahms groaned loudly as he tightened his grasp around your hair. He was slow at first, gliding his twitching member deeper into your throat. But soon, the sensation becomes much too intoxicating, and he can feel himself losing restraint.

He grinded himself into you deeply, not taking any account for whether you could breathe or not. With a tear streaked face, you couldn't stop yourself from slobbering everywhere with the force of his cock stretching your throat.

Each of his thrusts felt suffocating as his size was blocking your airways. He'd use your throat or grab at your hair to force every inch inside. He took no shame in face fucking you into oblivion.

It had felt like hours before Brahms came close to finishing. He roughly held your face to his hips as he bucked violently into you, finally cuming down into your throat and mouth. You gagged and choked as he finally removed himself from your mouth.

He stood as you lay messily on the dampened couch. You hadn't bothered to move nor open your eyes as you desperately heaved, catching your breath.

Brahms watched as you lay there, his cock still seemingly hard.

Once you had somewhat recovered, you glanced up at the man that had violated your mouth. He brought his hand to your face, wiping away the semen from your mouth.

Some fucking kiss, huh?

Sorry for cutting it short. This was a mere practice to get back into things. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed it. ;)

#slashers #slasher #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #the boy 2016 #theboy #brahmsheelshirefanfic #brahmsheadshots #brahmsheelshireheadshot #brahmsheelshireheadcanon

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litnerdwrites · 2 months

Text

Clandestine Affairs - Lust X OC (I)

A/N: Omg, the first part of Clandestine Affairs is finally done! I'm so excited to share this with you all. I'll try to update weekly, but if I can't, I'll see if I can get some Euphemia content out. Other than that, I have a Gluttony x Reader oneshot I'm working on to, but I don't know when I'd upload that. Tomorrow, I'll set up a masterlist that'll be pinned to my blog. If you have theories as to where this will go before we reach the point my Prince of Sin week work ended on, or want to be tagged in this series, comment and let me know. Finally, if you want some spoilers as to where this series is going, Speak Now is a oneshot for Lust with this same OC that I did for Prince of Sin week, and this is just fleshing out his and Amara's story a little, so feel free go check that out, along with @princeofsinweek for a bunch of KOTW content.

WC: 1887

TW: Implied suicidal behaviour, implied abuse, implied suicide attempt, implied suicide attempt by FMC.

Speak Now Chapter 1 (You are here) Chapter 2

She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there, eyes locked on the crashing waves below, but not really looking at them.

“Get out of my sight,”

The sudden wind at her back had her lurching forward. Or was it a hand? Was the voice in her head? She couldn’t tell anymore.

SMASH

The waves sound like shattering glass.

Or does the glass shattering sound like the waves crashing?

Which one could she hear?

“I’m sorry, Mara. My poor, sweet Amara,”

Another crash draws her attention to the raging sea. If it were a little louder, could it, perhaps, it could drown out the rend of her heart when those words played.

It would be so easy to just… lean forward.

Just a little.

Chunks of earth crumble beneath her knees, where her legs dangle off the side, and disappear into the inky waters below.

That could be her.

It would be easy.

Just lean forward.

Grasp a piece of the sweet oblivion she longed for.

Easy.

It’s right there.

Peace.

Oblivion.

So, so easy.

Just-

Something rushed through her, like rapids flowing through her veins, sudden enough to draw the air from her lungs, and has her lurching back. Pulled from her trance, her eyes searched around for the source of the feeling. Fishing boats, and personal ships bobbed in the distance, some hanging lanterns to mark their location from shore, while shadows danced below the surface.

Dragging her gaze away, she scanned the area, searching for what might have been the cause of the sudden rush she’d felt. At a glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The night’s pearl had long since taken her place, surrounded by glittering diamonds, forming constellations in the sky. Stalls and vendors had been packed away, with every respectable merchant having gone home to their family, likely tucked into bed, or in front of a warm fire with a drink by now. Her heart clenched at the thought, just as a chilly breeze swept over her.

Suddenly, she longed for that warmth. A warm fire, or a blanket- anything to keep the cold at bay, and warm her chilled body.

As her eyes searched, they caught on a light coming from behind a rock formation at the edge of the nearby beach. With slow, cautious steps, she walked along the edge of the cliff, until she could see a mass of figures surrounding a large bonfire. They were chatting, eating, and dancing to the most hypnotic music she’d ever heard.

For a moment, she wondered where the music was coming from, as she didn’t see anyone with instruments amongst or near the mass. The thought was quickly banished from her head with another gust of wind, and suddenly it was all she could think of, to get closer to that warmth.

It was such a familiar occurrence that she didn’t even struggle when she felt those dark thoughts and fatigue pulling her under, leaving her as a passenger in her own body, letting it run through the motions as she sank further into the darkness. Perhaps that was why she didn’t notice as her legs began to move, or that little voice inside, screaming at her to stop.

Instead, she let her feet carry her towards the bonfire.

Entranced, she made her way down the side of the cliff, vaguely registering the way her limbs trembled. She wondered if it was from anticipation or the cold. The thought passed quickly though, and before long, she found herself right in front of the pyre, where the flames danced against the backdrop of night. But, something was different. When she turned her head, giving the area a slow once over, she realised; The crowd was gone.

Instead, there was only a single person, dancing around the bonfire to an indiscernible source of music. That should’ve bothered her more.

The sculptures that nobles commissioned from renowned artisans to line their overly elaborate halls must’ve been inspired by the man. He wore a silver suit, though seemed to have either discarded or, more likely, forgone a shirt or vest.

His skin was gold, hair dark, and his eyes were the colour of charcoal. Yet, somehow, she got the impression that if she met his gaze, she’d feel like she was falling into a different kind of abyss than the one she was used to. This one would be darkened by desire, though be it to disrobe or begin worshiping, she couldn’t tell.

“If you like what you see, then why not join?” The man’s voice jolted her from her thoughts.

He had been across the beach a moment ago, but now he stood right in front of her.

Too close.

His face was too close, as he bent at the waist to examine her. It was only then, when she felt that flaming circlet flicker against her forehead that she realised how… Wrong- no. Not wrong. Off? How... Strange? No. How… Unsettling it was.

“Doesn’t your head get hot during the summer?”

The man’s eyes widened, and he had jerked back, clearly surprised by the question.

No sooner had the words left her mouth, Amara dropped her head and slapped a hand over her mouth. She tucked her chin against her collarbone, stiffening, before taking two steps back. Every second she felt his gaze on her, searching her, as if peeling back every layer to find the deepest secrets, locked in her heart.

With every ounce of strength left, she pulled her hands from her mouth, willing- forcing herself to stutter an apology.

“I- I’m so-”

“There are no summers where I’m from,”

Amara’s head snapped up, but she kept her hands close to her mouth, ready to raise them to her face at a moments’ notice. The man was grinning casually, amusement clear in his voice.

She blinked up at him, hands still pressed to her mouth, but eyes wide and curious. He seemed so jovial when she first saw him, then surprised at her outburst, but that was nothing new, and then, even without seeing his face, she felt like he’d instantly whittled down, through every layer of her until he found her secrets laid bare. Now, he seemed like any other bored noble’s son, seeking attention.

“Should you not be more concerned by it?” he cocked his head to the side.

Amara dropped her hands from her mouth, and blinked up at him again. After a few moments under his expectant gaze, answered with a shrug.

“I have… Seen stranger. I am a witch, after all.”

His brows shot up.

“You seem remarkably comfortable sharing that, when all it would take is the wrong person overhearing for you to be condemned,”

“You obviously aren’t human, and even if you were, then I guess that’s my mistake,”

His eyes narrowed, as he circled her.

Amara didn’t bother tracking his movements.

Silence stretched on for what felt like hours, though was likely only minutes.

“Do you know who I am, Stella Stregah?” he finally asked, coming back to stand in front of her.

“A Malvagi,” she stated, matter of factly, if not somewhat dully, before looking behind him, amd asking hesitantly, “Why are you having a bonfire all alone?”

“Would you care to join me?” was the only response he gave, head cocked to the side.

“Why?”

“Dance with me, and perhaps you’ll find out,” the demon bowed at the waist, offering his hand to her. Amara eyed him, and his grin widened, before he asked, “What could you have to lose?”

Her eyes widened at his words.

“My life,” she blurted.

“But you don’t care about that,”

“What?”

His eyes moved to the cliff she was sitting on, before she wandered down here, and she followed his gaze.

“If you cared about your life, then why would you allow yourself to lean so close to the edge?” he asks.

“Heights don’t scare me,” Amara responds, struggling to keep her voice even.

The man simply grins wider, before shrugging, as if pocketing the information, and holding out his hand again.

“If a height like that doesn’t frighten you, surely a mere dance won’t shake you either, no?”

She narrowed her eyes, intent on rejecting it, as his words replayed in her mind.

What did she have to lose? If she died, no one could say she took the coward’s way out. If she didn’t, what would be the harm? Perhaps it would be fun? Perhaps it could breathe some life into her for the first time in what felt like forever. Perhaps she’ll be able to escape her torments for a night. What could be the harm?

With a sigh, she took the man’s waiting hand.

Music filled her ear again, though there was no discernible source, as the demon guided her through the steps. Amara let him, keeping up with the steps expertly. She followed his lead, though never once made eye contact with the demon.

“Which one of the seven are you?”

“The best looking and most well endowed, naturally,” he grins. Amara’s expression deadpans. This seems to amuse him more. “I go by many names, Stregah, but you may call me Lust,”

She narrowed her eyes on him. Taking a moment to examine herself, and thinking over their interactions thus far. It didn’t seem like he used his powers on her.

“Have you tried to influence me with your sin, yet?”

Lust cocks his head to the side, examining her, as if considering if he should tell her or not. She leveled him with an impatient glare in response, though it only seemed to amuse him. Still, it seemed to convince him.

“For a time,” Lust admits, and Amara narrows her eyes.

“What?”

“You have a lot of questions, don’t you, little witch. Careful, each answer will cost you,” he warns.

“I…See,”

“Tell me, why were you so close to the edge, Stella Stregah?”

Lust raised a brow, examining the way her face scrunched.

“That’s not your concern, Malvagi.” Amara snapped, moving to pull away.

He chuckled, yanking her into a spin, before she could, then caught her, and pushed her into a dip, hand cupping the thigh of her raised leg. His face was mere inches from hers.

“No need to be so wrathful, little witch. Let go of your troubles for a night. Release those pent up feelings and give in to your desires,”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she told him, point blank.

“I never said you should. Not unless those are your desires,” Lust shrugged, not rising from the dip, letting his hand trail down her leg, “Dance. Drink,” she glanced behind him to see a table of drinks and food she hadn’t noticed before, and on the other side, comfortable looking chairs were laid out around the bonfire, “Rest. Talk. Sing. Give into whatever brings your pleasure,”

“You mean to feed your sin-" Amara's thoughts came to a halt, her eyes narrowed, "If you are the Prince of Lust, why not encourage, or influence more..."

"Why not influence more carnal or debaucherous forms of pleasure?" He finished, lips quirked into a wicked grin as his thumb began to trace circles into her thigh. "There are many forms of pleasure, Stregah, and fucking is merely one of them. Is happiness itself not a part of pleasure and satisfaction?"

Amara's breath hitched, as heat trailed in his wake, spreading from her thigh to her core.

"I- I suppose," she muttered, as she fought the warmth of his touch, as well as any indication of the sort of effect he had on her.

The last thing she needed was for The Prince of Lust to assume she had any desire to be in any way... intimate... with him. Just the thought alone had blood rushing to her cheeks and her stomach in knots.

“Can you deny that giving in to pleasure, forgetting what ails you, even for a single night, would be bad?” Lust's brow cocked as he posed the question, snapping Amara from her thoughts.

It wouldn’t. If it wasn't sex of any kind, then she knew it wouldn’t.

“Surely you have plenty of people available to feed your sin,”

“Yet, at this time, I make this offer to you, and you alone,"

Amara’s eyes narrowed.

“If I give into pleasure, you won’t use your sin on me?”

“Not unless you ask, little witch,”

“Then it’s a deal. Just for tonight.”

“Just for tonight.”

Just for tonight. What could possibly go wrong, in just a night?

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dontmixpaintinyourcoffee · 9 days

Text

Working on some designs for the White Witches! The concept of them is so fucking creepy and unsettling I love it so much, so naturally I have to draw them. But before I get to do that, I have to figure out how the fuck to do that- so welcome to my process! This is gonna be long as hell, so I've put it under the cut for the sake of convenience.

First we gotta go over what we have. I haven't seen any official art of White Witches, only of the Manus and some Hunters, so we gotta work off of the narration. The first notes I took were from Arc 2, the first ever appearance of a White Witch.

These are the details I got from that scene:

White robes

Gloves

Long sleeves

Long white veil with light green and blue embroidery

Lower face showing, eyes covered

So all of these needed to be incorporated somehow. Step one was messing around with the veil and the robe silhouette.

Silhouette

This part was easy enough, I wanted to stick with the church theme so I started looking through nun habits. I didn't want to exactly copy any specific style, but it felt like an appropriate starting point. What I ended up keeping was a heavy lean on triangles and rectangles.

Veils

This was probably my favorite part to experiment with. The veils are described as covering the eyes, but not the lower half of the face, so you can see the mouth clearly. This detail actually spawned a whole train of thought that massively influenced my design going forward but we'll get to that later-

The first idea I had was to just take a regular veil and make it sheer at the bottom, like a gradient. But I quickly dropped that, it felt too same-y, and with colors it would blend right in to the rest of the white robes. The whole point was to bring a focus to the face. What I ended up sticking with was this!

Once I had it down it seemed so obvious- a split veil! I just put a split across the bridge of the nose and bam, suddenly it made sense. The triangular cut and the cascading folds just kind of happened, it felt natural with the rest of the shapes I had been drawing. A friend said it reminded him of moths, which felt oddly fitting given their association with magic in Arc 1. In retrospect, I think I was subconsciously inspired by early appearances of Blue Diamond in Steven Universe. Not intentional, but I do love how it turned out.

Other Uniform Details

This is the "later" I mentioned earlier, because I am obsessed with the implications of this veil. It's very specifically said that a White Witch is never without her Manus or a Hunter, and the first one we ever see is flanked by two hunters. They are, fundamentally, still seen by the church as threats.

So with that in mind, one goal expanded into two. At first my goal was to make them unsettling, but beautiful. Like porcelain dolls. The church doesn't parade their cruelty around, they dress it up in fine robes and narratives of redemption.*

* This is some extrapolation on my part. It's mentioned in Arc 2 that most witches regard White Witches as "traitors". That implies that their imprisonment is not common knowledge. If it was, they would be "captives" or "prisoners". Even if they turned themselves in, I highly doubt they were signing up for whatever the fuck is going on in that church.

Now I have my second goal: make them clearly, but not obviously, trapped.

This gave me a really clear direction to move in, because now every piece of fabric has an extra practical purpose. For example-

There is a myth that making eye contact with a witch is inviting a curse upon yourself. The veil helps with that. Blocking their eyes eases the anxieties of any passerby or audience (and makes real spells that require direct eye contact impossible). It also heavily obscures their vision, making them reliant on their Manus to move around effectively. The mouth is uncovered so that they can always be monitored for recitations or chanting. Symbolically, the veil could parallel the blindfold of Lady Justice. If the narrative spun by the Church is that the white witches are willingly working in their service, then there is a sense of self-redemption to it. Turning wicked skills to the service of what is good and holy. Repenting as an act of the pursuit of justice. Obviously made all the more ironic and gross by the true nature of the whole thing.

The long sleeves are beautiful, and add to the general elegance of the uniform. They are also deeply impractical. The length makes them easy to trip over, the weight of the fabric makes them difficult to roll up.

There's a sketch on the first image by my friend who suggested that they could have twin trains coming off of the skirt, like moth wings. They create a very sleek and elegant design befitting the image of the Church. They're also easy to step on or grab in the event of a runaway witch. Naturally I took his suggestion.

This is what I meant by "clear but not obvious". None of this stuff is hidden, but most people aren't going to notice it. Someone like Zachary probably would, because he would be thinking from the perspective of how to escape or fight back, so he'd pick up on those details. But the general non-magic crowd isn't going to be thinking about that at all. They'll assume that a lack of literal chains means that there are no prisoners here. So the Church gets to keep a squeaky clean image with the public at large while still acting as a prison.

Basically, I'm having way too much fun with this. And now I have a solid idea of what I want these guys to look like! Next up will be settling on designs for Little One, Pointer, and Middle! (Speaking of which the utter disrespect of calling her "Middle"???? That was one of the details that made "As violently as possible please :D" a very satisfying moment)

#coffeepaintart #dandiesindanger #dandies in danger spoilers #dandies in danger fanart #dandies in danger #dind arc 3 #dind #dandies in danger as above so below #dind arc 2

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rubyuji · 4 months

Text

Seventeen Masterlist ∘․ˑ⭑🎸₊ ⊹ ⭑

- Masterlist of Seventeen Works: A - Angst, F - Fluff, C - Comfort, R - Romance, HC - Headcanon

Seungcheol

- Fragments. (feat. Mingyu) (A, F)

Synopsis: Growing up with someone you love isn’t easy, well at least for Seungcheol, he never expected to be a life-altering heartbreak for you either, and while he did wish for a second chance, that plan had only backfired on him when he received an invite to your engagement party with Mingyu.

Jeonghan

- Forever (R)

Synopsis: You yearned for him every moment he stepped into your drawing room, but did you stand a chance against a princess despite your status as the diamond of the season?

Joshua

- Go the Distance. (F, C)

Synopsis: Joshua travels long distances just to see you, no matter how far.

Jun

- Enough for Me. (A, C)

Synopsis: No one could handle you and you seemed to be the problem because everyone had always walked out on you. Not in Jun’s case though.

Hoshi

- none.

Wonwoo

- The Chase. (A, F)

Synopsis: After going through the most traumatizing relationship ever with your ex, you vowed never to open your heart to just anyone and simply accepted the fact that maybe you truly were just unlucky in love. That was until Jeon Wonwoo made it his life’s mission to prove to you that you weren’t unlucky, you just ended up with the wrong people.

Woozi

- none.

Minghao

- none.

Mingyu

- The Reason for My Smile. (A, F)

Synopsis: Diving into a long-term relationship is scary for anyone for that matter, except the breakup from yours had left you traumatized because it happened over text. From then on you vowed to never wear your heart on your sleeve ever again, but your brother’s own best friend promised to change your perspective.

- Treat. (F)

Synopsis: An average medical student getting by who meets the cute baker from the small bakery across the street in front of her university.

- Happy Pawlidays. (F)

Synopsis: It was the holidays, so what better way to spend it with your sweet boyfriend than to give him his present?

- Fragments. (feat. Seungcheol) (A, F)

- none.

Seungkwan

- none.

Vernon

- none.

Dino

- Restless. (F)

Synopsis: After a week of traveling for school, Chan was ready to get home and crash onto his bed for the weekend. The problem? He was locked out for the night as his parents and younger brother had gone to visit their relatives on short notice, so he turned to his only option, you.

- Bounce Back. (A)

Synopsis: Seeing you with his best friend suddenly made him want to bounce back to the night you confessed your love.

#lei’s masterlist 🍷ೄྀ✶∘˙˚•𝄞

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csueno · 8 months

Note

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Dream picks flowers in Kinoko Kingdom

OKAY. TRIED MY BEST. unedited unbeated you know how it is

Dream & Sapnap (George ment.) | Gen | 1.1k words | two ex friends having a super normal conversation trust | @sixteenth-day-event

He doesn’t mean to stray far.

He was just looking to make dye, for pink flowers that—despite his paranoid overstock in everything else— Techno lacked.

A few tulips, maybe peonies if he could be bothered to look for more, because the guy has insisted on knitting himself a scarf, of all things, and they didn’t have pink sheep. Between a simple scouting mission and feeding Techno’s army of dogs, he would always pick to stay away from overexcited little beasts. Besides, he missed the sun, a delicacy in the tundra Techno chose to make home.

Anyway.

He doesn’t mean to stray too far; anxiety still lingers under his skin, making his muscles lock up whenever he isn’t inside the cabin, or rather, inside his 10 x 10 cubes mini bunker under the main cabins, only connected to Techno’s and the Syndicate room. Every second outside is a reminder that he’s still vulnerable, that he hasn’t built his own muscles again, that his response time is still stilted, and that his body and mind simply don’t work the way they used to, fine weapons intimately connected.

He’s clumsy in his steps and only barely avoids leaving any important tracks behind him, but he knows any skilled hunter (and there’s people on his mind, there’s always people on his mind) would know exactly where to find him. He trusts a bit too much on his main prosecutor's incompetence in traversing the forest, and follows a path down, where he sees the beginning of a plain. Away, a mess of colors that promises wild flora.

His spotty vision isn’t an issue outside of the general feeling of fear he gets whenever he isn’t able to see too far beyond. He’s reconnecting with the world, and it takes time and effort, so it warns him (a tight feeling around his throat) whenever he’s in danger, but he can’t see above what another player would, like before. And when he sees tall, red mushrooms, he just wonders how far away from the cabins he is to appear on such an unfamiliar biome.

Then he hears the sword draw, and he notices the flap of a flag too late.

“Fucked up of you to show your face around here.” Sapnap spits, smoke falling out from his mouth and ears. He looked a bit like a kettle, which almost made Dream smile. His mask would’ve hidden it, but it’s the principle of the thing.

He’s in a bad position. He can barely move his neck (itchy, terse) fast enough to catch Sapnap’s face.

He’s in such a bad position, that he considers simply giving up, as easy as that. Letting the Syndicate’s efforts go to waste, render Ranboo’s ‘sacrifice’ useless, just to avoid arguing for his own life. He barely manages to turn his back away and face Sapnap completely, trying (and failing) to hide the flowers on his hand. He had only gathered two pink tulips and one single peony, wilting miserably with the grip Dream had on his hand.

“Hey, hey, Sapnap… uh, long time no see?”

Sapnap blinks down at the flowers. There’s a heavy pause, where he stares in disbelief. “Is that—are you looking for George?”

Closer to hyperventilating than he would like, Dream doesn’t even think of lying. He just thinks about how he has an non-enchanted diamond pickaxe and Sapnap is one of the few people that can stand against him in fair combat. “No. These are for a scarf.”

“A scarf.” Sapnap echoes.

“I-I’ve been staying with, uh, someone. They like to knit.” Dream continues. Whatever little self perseverance instinct he still has reminds him not to sell his only ally to a person who will not hesitate to kill him today, and help kill his other allies tomorrow. “I wasn’t going to enter. It’s, ah, a nice place.”

“Dream,” Sapnap looks conflicted all of the sudden, like Dream dropping all pretense he has the control has managed to wreck him. Dream swallows, something like pain cursing fast through his body. “I. I have to kill you.”

“I mean,” Dream drawls, standing up slowly, keeping his eyes connected to Sapnap’s. His heart is beating too fast, the unwavering grip of Sapnap’s hands on his sword keeping him on his edge, but he’s willing to bet on Sapnap’s own doubts. He’s good at making plans in a second, and he didn’t even expect to be able to make Sapnap pause anymore. Maybe Dream’s deplorable armor is getting to him. “You don’t have to, not really. I’m not planning anything. I don’t want trouble, I swear. Just getting these,” a weak gesture to his own plants. “I can even leave them there, if you don’t want me to steal. But they’re flowers. You guys have plenty.

“Why do you think I can trust you?” Sapnap snarls, somehow remembering his own anger. His eyes flash red again, and his face blushes, irate. An angry Sapnap is an unpredictable, hasty Sapnap. Dream takes a step back, seizing his chances.

“You haven’t killed me,” Dream reasons, another step back. “You could’ve before I even noticed–Sap, I had like, my back to you for five seconds. You’ve killed me in less time.”

“That was in fucking Manhunt, you asshole,” he stomps his feet, irritated. “There were no stakes there.”

“What difference does it make?” Dream asks, getting frustrated too. He’s tired. He’s hungry. He would let Sapnap kill him. He—doesn’t like how okay he is with the thought of Sapnap killing him here, without a witness. To be buried between the flower beds that welcome the kingdom George and Sapnap made—explicitly— without him. It would hurt, but it would be the last time they hurt. “Look, you either kill me now, or let me go. I can’t even,” he makes his ax appear, which makes Sapnap’s shoulders raise until he realizes is a chipped, used one, “what the fuck can this do against netherite?”

“You fought me the last time,” Sapnap seethes. “What’s the difference this time?”

“Honestly? I’m fucking exhausted.” Dream mumbles. “There’s nobody to see me losing. You could tell them, I guess. I don’t know. I’m tired, I don’t care to fight.”

He doesn’t say: the plan is both taking too long and is coming faster than I thought. He doesn’t say: Techno’s carpet floor itches, but I can’t shake off the wrongness of a bed. He doesn’t say: this isn’t the way things were meant to go. He doesn’t say: at least let me make sure you keep your promise. I wish you would keep your promise. Out of everyone, I know you would make dying the least painful.

When Sapnap doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, he remembers the sun. The aurora borealis of Techno’s cabin. He remembers how good it feels to swim for ours, to cook something good and have others praise you for it. And then he throws an Ender pearl as far away from the mushrooms and flowers as he can. For a second, it stands against the sun and turns Dream’s world gray, and then it’s over and he’s far away.

“If I were to bring George flowers,” he shouts, not looking back, “I would bring him roses!”

He goes back to the forest, and chooses a different path.

#sixteenthdayevent #mywriting #THANK YOU FOR RUNNING THIS EVENT IT WAS VERY FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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jamiesfootball · 1 year

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I’m curious (if you’re willing to share) — is your post season 3 fic shippy or platonic? Looking forward to it!

Both of the main ones I'm working on now are platonic! But also you've opened the door for me to talk about it so I'm gonna talk about it!

The post-season 3 fic is platonic and--I cannot overstate this enough--has so much of a plot going on across multiple characters that I finally broke down and made a fucking spreadsheet.

That said a lot of Roy's struggle in this fic centers around his emotional attachments with other people and the roles he plays in their lives (with family, with friends, as a coach). He's stuck in this perfect storm where it seems like all his most important relationships are in flux.

See below the cut for spoilers:

His Family

This is a big one for him and where a surprising amount of therapy work gets done. When the story kicks off, Phoebe is suddenly Around Much Less and a part of that is his sister tentatively feeling out a reconciliation with their parents. This causes a surprising (to Roy) amount of emotional upheaval in his life. As someone who's always been in his sister's corner, he's always seen (even if he's never fully verbalized it to himself) his keeping contact with their parents as a way of releasing his sister from any responsibility or lingering guilt about cutting them off. But now that she's tentatively in contact with them, and introducing them to Phoebe, Roy is realizing that he has a lot of unresolved issues with his parents. Adding to that stress is the fact that while he's played a huge role in his niece's life, he's never actually had to ask to spend time with her before, and he is awful at admitting he might need something, especially when the people around him keep telling him he can 'have a break.'

Keeley

He and Keeley have decided to remain friends. Keeley wants to be single for a while and work on herself, her company, and all the special projects she has falling out of her sleeves (*cough*womensteam*cough*). However, Keeley is the most serious relationship he's ever had, and they started out on a flirty, romantic footing, so he's never just been friends with her. In fact he's never stayed friends with any of his exes. He's navigating unfamiliar territory and he's not sure what's allowed of him. Even basic shit--is he allowed to tell her she looks nice? invite her for coffee? for dinner?--he ends up second guessing.

The Diamond Dogs / The Workplace

He literally JUST became a Diamond Dog and showed them emotional vulnerability by asking what the secret was to becoming a less shitty person and now he's in charge of them. (And he's in therapy, seeing the staff therapist, so everybody knows about that too.) With Ted gone, the inter-team dynamics between the coaches is a whirlpool of Beard and Nate trying to out-smart each other, and suddenly Roy is the one keeping everybody in line and fielding Higgins' questions about player recruitment. This isn't the big drama but it is mundane and tedious and just another fucking thing to deal with.

The Team (Sam, Isaac, Colin)

The step between captain and assistant coach was a fairly easy one for Roy because he was essentially doing the same thing in both jobs (yell at them about their form, psych them up before a match, etc). He's the gaffer now. Most gaffers don't just casually hang out with their players. If he was another team's gaffer, he wouldn't. But these are people who know him, people he used to play side-by-side with, and god help him but he does care about them. So while he's pretty sure he needs to start drawing a boundary between the professional and personal, how the fuck is he supposed to tell them that when Colin is literally getting chewed up by the media as the only openly gay player in the league and he clearly needs the support? How's he supposed to back away when Sam, who's never angry about anything, is fucking seething over Edwin Akufo and asking Roy for help? Is he supposed to step back and drop it all on Isaac, who's trying his best but also seems to be carrying his own weight about something? They're not not his friends, but also he feels responsible for them. So what kind of coach is he going to be, now that he's the guy in charge?

Jamie (ofc)

Where does any of the above leave Jamie? Truly, if the boundaries between him and the other players are in flux, the ones between him and Jamie are fucking spaghetti. Because all of the same issues still apply, but with additional layers (their rivalry, Keeley, Amsterdam, Wembley, personal coaching, the fact that he's met Jamie's parents and would punch his dad in the face if he ever got a chance, the fact that his niece thinks they're best friends). His partiality is skewed every-which-fucking-way, and frankly he's a little annoyed that no one else holds it against him.

And all of that becomes additionally fucked up because:

Roy going to therapy is intrinsically tied to his behavior towards Jamie (Roy has a lot of guilt to work through on how often he's taken his anger out on Jamie)

Jamie and him have unwisely turned therapy into a goddamn competition (they have a chart), which means that any time he makes progress in therapy, he immediately ends up sharing it with Jamie

They don't even have the coach-player thing to fall back on because Jamie starts off the summer injured

This is also the Jamie Going Through It fic (with Tartt Sr in rehab being a huge part of that), and at this point its a given (to Roy at least) that if Jamie needs help, Roy is going to help him.

Jamie might be his friend. Maybe. Possibly. Roy might even admit that one day

So is this a shippy fic? No! No relationship statuses are added, lost, or changed in the winding plot of this fic (unless I figure out how to break up Beard and Jane). Everything picks up right where the finale left it.

But do relationships--the weight of identifying what you might need from other people, and how to navigate changes, and how to define things that aren't easy that are maybe complicated and messy and necessary for your own personal happiness--appear in this fic?

Absolutely yes.

#ask box is always open #[redacted title] post season three fic #i think this week's the week y'all #trying not to jinx it like i did last time #spent a long time today seeking emotional validation from the friend that does the reading and she is excited! so i've decided i am excited #definitely not scared! nope!#writing update #and if this sounds like a fuckton of stuff to cover - that is why i have the spreadsheet #and a pattern to keep all the pieces moving at a reasonable rate #or as the bestie described my writing style:#'you're conducting a 100 piece orchestra when the flutists have it out for the violinists and the drummer thinks they're at a rock concert'#which- yep!

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so-many-fandoms-here · 8 months

Text

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistakes you notice.)

• Characters: Shuntarō Chishiya, fem!Reader

• Genre: Angst

• Warnings: death, betrayal, logic mistakes/plot hole (I just kind of messed up I’m sorry :/), (manga spoilers I think?)

Angst Prompts - #20

༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻

-Chishiyas POV-

(Y/n) and I stepped inside the classroom of the elementary school which was the destination of the game we would participate in. Two other people were already inside the room, sitting on the big desk in the middle of the room.

On the table was something like a board game set up, obviously the game we were about to play. „Four people“, I mumbled, looking at the two empty chairs left at the table. „Means this will either be really hard, or really easy“, (Y/n) finished my thoughts.

Hesitantly she walked up to one of the chairs and sat down, being greeted by a belt like thing popping out of the seat and trapping her on the chair. „What a surprise“, she mumbled sarcastically, making me grin slightly. I sat down next to her on the last empty spot and took another glance at the people sitting on the square table. Both of them were men, trembling and sweating with fear.

„Registration closed“, the well known mechanical voice appeared. „Game: Rummikub. Difficulty: Diamond 2.“

I have to say, I was a little disappointed at the difficulty. Of course two days more on my visa were better than nothing, but I hoped anyways to get a higher difficulty so I could have a few days more to rest. But it was too late to think about that.

I looked back to (Y/n) who’s leg trembled nervously, then back at the table. It wasn’t exactly a board game that was set up. On the table laid tiles, lined up in neat rows. In front of the players stood a little rack where one could place said pieces.

„Rules: Every player gets 14 tiles on their rack. The goal is to be the first one to play all the tiles from your rack by forming them into sets. There are two kinds of set. Either a run, a set of at least three consecutive numbers in the same color, or a group, a set of three or four tiles of the same number in different colors. In order to make an initial meld, each player must place tiles on the table in one or more sets that total at least 30 points. These points must come from the tiles on each player’s rack; for their initial meld, players may not use tiles already played on the table. Later players can add tiles to already placed sets. If a player can not place anything, they have to draw a tile which ends their turn. Jokers can be used to replace any number. The last one with tiles on their rack loses.“

I looked over to (Y/n) to see if she understood everything. She reassured me with a nod.

„Game start.“

For this game I definitely needed luck, but maybe if I payed enough attention I could see some patterns in how the others placed their tiles on their racks. Maybe they have a structure behind it like placing them after color or numbers. I focused on one of the men, looking whenever he picked up another tile, the way his groups were organized, hoping I could see trough him.

(Y/n) was the first one to finish, followed directly by me which caused me to relax my shoulders again. We’re safe.

The unlucky man who lost acted like all the others in the games I played before. He screamed, cried, kicked and tried to flee but like all the times before he was unsuccessful and after a few seconds of him having a meltdown a laser shot trough his head. At least he had a quick death.

I looked over to (Y/n) again who seemed calm again too, not further touched by the man’s death or at least didn’t show it.

While we sat there and waited for the Game Clear announcement, the table suddenly started to move down. I leaned forward to get a closer look and saw that the floor where the table stood on was constructed like a small pedestal, now moving down into the floor and swallowing the table. But even after the floor closed again the mechanical voice stayed silent, destroying the light feeling of peace again that I was feeling.

After a few moments the table returned, the tiles set up neatly again. (Y/n) looked at me with the same amount of horror in her eyes as I was feeling deep inside me. It would have been way too easy.

„Round two. Game start.“

My eyes were glued to the man that sat with us and I tried to focus on him but not because I wanted to read him, but because I tried everything to not look at (Y/n). I felt so stupid. I was always prepared for everything, always had a plan and held a good distance to everyone, but besides all my efforts I just couldn’t stay away from her.

I heard (Y/n) mumbling all kinds of curses and stuff, completely consumed by panic which made it even harder for me to stay calm.

„No no no!“ „That’s not right!“ „I don’t want this!“ - her cries shattered my heart.

I didn‘t know if I was glad or not that the man lost. Yes, I would have more time together with (Y/n) but it also made the situation so much harder than it already was.

After the scream of the man died with him together, we were left alone and if the situation wasn’t so unbelievably painful, I would have laughed about the fact that even the table disappeared again.

„What now?“, she asked after a long pause, obviously not needing an answer. My eyes were glued at the tiles in the table, all neatly lined up again. I wanted to touch her and if we both would have reached out our fingers could have linked but none of us moved, knowing that this touch would have made everything harder.

Her (e/c) met mine and in silent agreement we reach out for the tiles to start the last game. I didn’t know what I hoped for. If I wanted to win or if I wanted to lose because both seemed to have the same outcome - I would die. And I couldn’t tell which death was better, the physical or the emotional.

(Y/n)s fingers danced over the table, picking out the tiles carefully and like the times before it seemed like she had luck with every draw. Almost as if she knew where which tile was placed.

„That‘s not right!“

My head shot up and I watched her as she looked at the tiles. With a horrible gut feeling I focused on her eyes and saw it. They didn’t move in a swift motion, they eyed every piece individually. She counted the tiles.

„You seem to win again“, I whispered, nodding to the many rows she already placed. She paused and with her hand still in the air she looked at me, her eyes shimmering with tears. „I don’t think I want to win.“

The words I said hurt worse than every injury I suffered before: „Then why do you play?“ A confused look appeared in her eyes and slowly she let her arm sink. „What do you mean?“

„I heard rumors about the Dealers“, I said. „They make sense, you know. Setting up the games and all that. But why do you set up a game where only one can survive if you know we’re both will participate?“ All the color in her face was gone, but she still acted like she didn’t know what I was talking about. „Did they manipulate your game?“, I asked further but still couldn’t get an answer from her.

I looked around the room, hoping I would find a camera, but if they where some, they were hidden pretty well. It didn’t surprise me though. Nothing surprises you when lasers are shooting through head out of nowhere.

„You can’t talk about it, right?“, I took another guess that was answered with silence too. All the times she went on a walk, was she actually setting games up? She was gone for hours but I never questioned it. Why would I? I couldn’t blame her for wanting a few hours to herself, which I thought was the reason for the long walks.

„I am sorry.“ (Y/n) voice was barely loud enough for me to hear. „I am a dealer.“ She shut her eyes tight, like she waited for something, but what she was waiting for didn’t seem to happen, leading her to open her eyes again. „Guess they don’t care, since one of us is going to die anyway“, she said with a sad sigh, confirming my guess that she wasn’t allowed to talk about it.

„You lied to me“, I stated objectively, trying desperately to keep my composure.

„Of course I lied!“, she suddenly yelled, her voice breaking mid sentence. „Did you think I would actually tell you the truth?!“ Her tears are pouring like waterfalls. „I couldn’t! I mustn’t! They would have killed me on the spot! I tried to make it obvious that I was lying, your so smart Chishiya, I hoped you would see through me!“

Keeping my stoic expression was hard with her screams, invading my ears and running through my body like bolts of lightings. „I prayed that you would get suspicious of my walks! I prayed that you would notice my obviously weird excuses, but you never did! Why did you trust me Chishiya?!“

My skin crawled, not because her voice became so high, but because of the hurtful truth in her words. Of course her reasoning was odd and maybe there was a part of me that was suspicious, but I didn’t want to be. I felt like (Y/n) wouldn’t lie to me, that she wouldn’t betray me. But she did.

But she had no other choice.

„Yes, I set up the game but originally only one was supposed to die!“ Her eyes didn’t seem to have any tears left, but her body didn’t stop to twitch, trying to squeeze out more tears.

„What about the other games you played? Did you all set them up?“, I asked, somehow still keeping myself together. „The less you know the better.“

I wanted to get angry at her but I couldn’t, because I knew that she was right, no matter if I liked it or not.

„I know a lot, Chishiya. More than I want to know, all Dealers do. We get provided with a decent amount of information, but we still don’t even have a quarter of the knowledge of what’s going on“, she continued. „And believe me, I didn’t want anything ever so bad than to tell you everything, but I can’t without causing you to be in danger again.“

I did believe her. Again I was met with the brutality and chaos of this world again. You couldn’t tell good and evil apart and betrayal and lies were sometimes a good thing.

(Y/n) sigh heavy, her breath leaving her lungs intermittently causing her to sound even more miserable than she already did. „How many tiles do you have left?“, she asked, bringing our last conversation to an end. „Two“, I answered and looked at the black and red one on my board.

Without looking away from my face she took a random tile and placed it on her board. „Take the second last from the top row out of your perspective.“ Her eyes were burning themselves into mine and I needed a second before I was ready to look away, to trust her one last time, and reached out for the tile she was about to take a few minutes ago. It was a joker.

Then she drew another random tile, which she didn’t even bothered to place on her rack but instead placed it next to it, the number facing down so neither I nor she saw what her last draw was. „Finish“, she whispered, but my hands were frozen.

There was so much I wanted to say, and I felt she had so much to say too, but both of us stayed silent, knowing these words had to die too, because if we started talking, we maybe wouldn’t stop ever again. Not a hundred years would have been enough for all the things I suddenly wanted to say, so instead I took the few seconds left to look at her, to study her beautiful face so her features would be burned into my brain and I would never forget her.

She smiled while I placed my last row of numbers. She smiled while I knocked over the rack to symbolize that I have won. And she still smiled while the laser shot through her head, causing her head to fall on the table.

„Game clear“, announced the mechanical voice while my chair set me free again but I didn’t stood up right away. I decided that everything that happened in this room would stay in this room, so if I cried in here, it basically never happened, but my eyes didn’t pour any tears besides a single one, which made their way lonely down my cheek.

After I stood up I allowed myself to pet her (h/c) hair one last time before I took the card and left the building, leaving (Y/n) and with her a piece of my heart behind.

#fanfiction #x reader #alice in borderland #aib #alice in borderland x reader #alice in borderland x y/n #aib x reader #aib x y/n #Angst #chishiya shuntaro x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #alice in borderland chishiya

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minileena-sfw · 2 months

Text

Hey what if I made an au for that zookeeper story that got me my girlfriend a year ago

Layna

Honestly, this dress might be a touch too garish.

Rebecca, my chauffeur for the evening, had assured me it was beautiful, and it covers up my goods underneath nicely, but I can't help but pull at the uncomfortable pit section as she takes me into the gala.

The ceiling opens up to become the sky, something that someone of my stature is accustomed to this far down below, but this time I'm alone in that feeling. Chandeliers that are, put generously, a little much hang from the ridiculously high ceiling, illuminating the ballroom in a golden glow. This clashes with the deep cerulean dress I was wearing, but I was never the one to have an eye for that kind of detail anyways. Rebecca was the one who picked the outfit, as well as her own, a simple black tux meant to look undistracting and draw all the attention to the pretty little jewel sitting on her shoulder.

Alright, we're in the gala. Take a deep breath. I can do this. Next step is just making conversation with the rich snobs. Easy.

I tuck the single stray lock of hair curled at my cheek behind my ear as Rebecca finds me a spot to slide in.

I find a cluster of socialites discussing current events and join in naturally. I hate small talk, but it's something I can turn on if I need to. Which I definitely do.

I notice another one of my kind in the cluster, a woman maybe a quarter inch taller than me on the shoulder of her own chauffeur. I wonder how she ended up with the amount of money she would need to be attending an event like this.

Probably a very, very different way than I plan to.

As I try to keep my eyes from glazing over, the conversation drones on. These types aren't the ones to be able to make actually charming small talk. At the very least, not to the level of interest of someone a tad more low status like myself.

Until one of them does.

I find myself genuinely chuckling at a comment one of the rich snobs make. My smile turns from amused to curious as I lock eyes with the only woman to genuinely get a positive reaction out of me.

She's... kind of stunning.

A lot of the people here are very attractive, at least in the hollywood sense, but this woman manages to stand out among the crowd. Her beauty is effortless, her hair a tad messy and curly and yet bouncing along with her gestures in such an enchanting way that she doesn't seem out of place among these perfectly groomed one-percenters.

The smile she gives me brings a touch of red to my cheeks.

Christ, Layna, focus. You're not here to flirt. You weren't even invited to this gala to begin with. This woman is not a part of your world.

And yet, she continues to catch my eye as the conversation continues.

Eventually I find a conversational out and excuse myself, Rebecca taking me off to a less traversed portion of the ballroom.

Her movements are effortlessly inconspicuous, taking us to what is honestly a fairly suspicious hallway that the help have been using, all while moving so naturally she doesn't draw a single eye. I briefly consider upping her cut from 15% to something like 18%.

...maybe 17.

This isn't just a gala, after all. It's an auction.

For a black diamond.

I've seen pictures. Jet black and yet with facets that catch the light as it turns. Its polish so pristine I'd be able to see my reflection in it.

And I fully plan to.

The largest black diamond ever found is just a touch shorter than me, and quite a bit heavier. I'd never manage to pick it up.

It's worth about 160 million dollars.

The one being auctioned today? Maybe the size of a few poker chips stacked atop one another. A few dozen grams, maybe a tad over a hundred.

This one, I can lift.

And 90 million may be a tad less than 150, but it'll still be the largest heist I've ever pulled.

Rebecca sets me down on a lip in the wall before pulling a handheld drill out of the pocket inside her jacket and opening the vents for me.

"Have fun making cover there?" She asks quietly as a screw falls to the floor.

"You know I always hate the small talk parts of these things," I reply, taking a seat and crossing my legs as she works.

"Really?" Rebecca prods. "'Cause you were blushing so much back there I could practically feel the heat coming off of you on my neck."

"You, uhm... noticed that..?" I ask, genuinely embarrassed. I'm supposed to be a professional, goddamn it.

"Didn’t know you were into the ladies," she comments with what I could only describe as an audible smirk. "And the tall ones, at that."

I try to stammer out a witty response, but nothing comes to mind. I'm prepped for manipulating the *socialites* into liking me, not my own crew.

"Eye on the prize, Layna," Rebecca chides. "You can swipe through tinder when we're millionaires if it'll make you feel better."

With that, the vent falls into Rebecca's grip. I slide into her palm and let her set me down in the vents, stripping my dress off on my descent.

When I said this dress covers the goods, I didn't mean my curves--lord knows I'm a tad lacking in the breasts and butt department. No, I was referring to what was essentially a grappling hook.

Such a device is nigh impossible to make for those blessed with stature, but at 13 grams, I have a lot more options for repelling up and down vent shafts. A fridge magnet can hold me up. Rig that up to some string and a spring loaded launcher and you've got yourself a magnetized grappling hook.

"Those cameras had better be playing on loop by now, Becc," I say as I shoot my anchor into the ceiling of the vent and prep my harness.

"They're about to... huh," Rebecca says.

"Do NOT tell me something's wrong," I say, tension in my gaze as I watch her tap away at her phone.

"I... guess I already did it," she says. "I was testing earlier to make sure there weren’t any software updates that fucked with my overlay, must've forgotten to turn it off?"

"This is the sloppiness that's gonna get me caught," I warn.

"It's fine, no one's noticed," she assures. "It's a still feed of a diamond sitting in an otherwise empty safe. There's not much to notice by way of fake overlays. Basically a still image."

...maybe I'll stick with 15%.

"Do not keep me in the dark," I demand as I prepare for my trek. "Let me know and pull me out as soon as you see anything awry. No more sloppy mistakes tonight."

"Yes, boss," Becca says in a tone edging on sarcastic. "Good to go. Grab it, get out, meet me at rendezvous."

"See you soon," I offer with a smile before shooting down the shaft.

My path is anything but straightforward. I had studied the map, but I did nearly take a few wrong turns on my way to the vault. It takes a bit longer than expected to find the exposed grate in the ceiling of the room that holds my prize.

In a feat of what I would not-so-humbly describe as a prime example of genius engineering, I had fashioned what was basically a miniature soldering gun. I pull out a metal hook I had managed to covertly slide beside my thigh and hide under my dress before the gala. A quick turn of the wrist has the hook around a slat in the grate, and my soldering iron fastens the other end of the hook to the wall, creating what is essentially a hinge. A second hook on the other side of the same wall, and it's stable.

Now for the tricky part.

Behind my back is a drill, much like the one Rebecca had used earlier. A handle leads to the perpendicular drill bit at the end; sort of like a hockey stick, except the paddle-thing at the end is a motorized screwdriver. It's much smaller than Becca's, with a much weaker battery to compensate.

I'll be cutting it tight on power.

I grip the handle and slide the drill bit through a slat in the vent before holding it out under where I assume the first screw was. A bit of feeling around has the bit pressed snugly into the out-of-sight screw.

I press the button and start unscrewing.

It all goes pretty smoothly, all things considered. I can hear the drill slowing down near the final screw, but it manages to eke it out before dying on me. Whatever. I won't need it anymore.

The vent falls out from under me, swinging to the side on the hinge I had created without clattering to the ground with a noise that the guards would've surely heard. I hang from my grapple, fastened securely against the ceiling above me.

My prize awaits below.

I repel down and watch the pitch black surface inch closer. I see my reflection in the top face, growing larger.

I land atop it.

It's smooth, like ice from a pond in a valley that doesn't ever experience the wind rippling its flawless surface. I run my finger across it.

It will be mine soon.

I start tying the diamond up, fastening it to my harness. I should still have a few minutes before the guards bring it in for the auct--

The vault door swings open.

Part 1 of... uhh... maybe 4? Probably 4.

#size k!nk #giant/tiny #leena-stories #macro/micro #sizetumblr

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aith-art · 1 year

Text

Falloutober 2023 - Day 7

"Midnight Ride"

@falloutober

Word Count - 753

We left the ruins of the city in the cracked rear view mirror. Destruction never went away, but getting out of the ruins into open land made me feel better. The stars shone above. Despite everything that had happened in this world, the stars were always there to brighten an evening. The moon dipped behind a cloud. Dana’s pipboy played Diamond City radio freely.

The old bike sputtered along. I’d been doing my best to maintain it, but that wasn’t as easy as I’d have liked. No mechanics around to help. The occational technically minded soul I’d befriended in my travels would give it a once over, shrug and say it was a lost cause. None wanted to repair the old vehicles that littered the wastes. Too susceptible to blowing up, too easy to target. I didn’t care. The bike had been a passion project out in the Mojave and it had gotten me here. It was an old Lone Wanderer. Always cracked me up, did the name. Its what people called Cyrus, or atleast the legend that had followed him through the DC ruins.

With us both in our basic armour and some goggles I’d found in an old department store, we rode on. A parent and child out for a midnight ride. Dana clung onto my waist, scared of falling, while I tried to suppress just how much I loved being out on the road. She’d insisted on us having some alone time. ‘It’ll give Shaun time to get to know the others better.’ I hadn’t liked the idea of leaving Shaun behind. But I understood her need for space and some personal time to just process the last few weeks.

The night air was somehow fresher than the day, something I’d noticed ever since the Mojave. It was always calming to me. Dana seemed to agree.

Her grip around my waist tightened. She sobbed. My jacket became steadily damp. I kept riding, though slowing down slightly. She just clung there, letting out everything she’d been hiding through her tears and cries.

As we rode south, her tears began to subside. The cabin I’d planned for us to stay in was just ahead. When we arrived I brought the bike to a stop, giving Dana a chance to regain her footing before I dismounted.

We stepped inside, I’d been down here before. The bed in the corner had some of my comfier bedding on it. A cabinet directly across from the door contained my old equipment. An old rug covered the concrete floor. Some lights I’d created when I got bored lined the roof. Above the bed, the wall was covered in photos and a map, my map of america covered in pins with all the locations I’d seen, and photos of all the friends Id made along my travels. The building itself was little more than a garage to a house that was no longer standing, but when I’d first arrived in Boston I needed somewhere to work from and it worked well enough. Now it was a retreat for time such as this.

Dana wandered into the space, eyes still damp were alight with wonder as she took in everything. Her hand reached over the bed towards the photos, running a finger over a photo of a younger me. She moved over to the cabinet, opening it as she looked at me for approval to go through my things. With a simple nod from me, she pulled out one of my old boxes. An older model pipboy and a long, battered duster coat greeted her. She opened the draw and rifled through my trinkets. The necklace I had worn in all the photos of me from the Mojave, an embossed hand gun I’d taken from Benny, a large platinum chip that had been the catalyst to my misadventures. She didn’t know the significance of these items. She knew they were significant, but she couldn’t understand why.

“These are all yours?”

“Yeah.” With the bike stored in the small shed I’d haphazardly constructed behind my safehouse, I closed the door to the shack behind me. Sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Can you tell me about your adventures?”

I hesitated. No one out here knew my story. I’d like it like that. But I’d brought her here hadn’t I. I’d brought her into the ultimate treasure trove of memories and stories. And the last cache of experimental technology, but that was all buried beneath the shed.

“Sure kid. Sure.”

#falloutober #falloutober2023 #sole survivor #fallout #fallout new vegas #courier six #jules courier 6 #self insert #fallout oc #fallout 4 #aith art writing #fo4 #Dana the Sole Survivor

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tiredassmage · 1 year

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dancing with each other

I am so sorry this took me ages to get to. I was scratching my head real good over who was going to jump on it and, at last, two of my newer ocs piped up and said they'd like to. x3

[touch prompts]

A gentle chuckle tumbled out behind him. Maltaf pulled his eyes away from the stars dappling Tython’s skies and sinking into the shadow of the trees to the woman approaching with a smile easily draped across her lips and arms loosely looped in front of her.

“I thought you were off the guard for the night,” Satia said, a brush of her sharp wit leaping through the words as her soft eyes glittered with amusement. “Aren’t avoiding everyone, are you?”

A careful hand brushed over his shoulder as she joined him. Firelight still subtly bathed their backs from here, though his selected spot among the wildflowers under the slope of the trees wasn’t far from the Temple grounds. Just far enough that the music was a quietly fragmented upon the drifting breeze.

“I am,” Maltaf said.

“Avoiding everyone?” Satia’s lips quirked into a glittering grin.

Despite his best intentions, an easy smile began to slip over his lips as he rolled his eyes. “Don’t be like that,” he grumbled. “You know how it is. Old habits, I suppose.”

Satia hummed a soft acknowledgement as her hand slipped easily down his arm, skin brushing skin where his sleeves fell away. There was the familiar hint of the scar on the inside of his right arm, usually concealed by bracers or robes or armoring in his field work. At least he had dressed lighter for the night. The festival was meant to be a time of exchange and reflection, freer of the vigilance that had raised them to the Jedi that they were today.

Satia’s head rested against his shoulder as she laced her fingers with his. For a moment, he let his eyes close to sink into the comforting warmth of her hand in his.

Then he cleared his throat gently and Satia straightened, though his fingers tightened around hers when she went to draw away. When she looked over at him, he allowed her a faint smile she echoed easily.

“You are worried,” she observed.

“Naturally,” he said with a modest shrug of a shoulder. He released a sigh quietly and shook his head. “I see much of myself - my younger self - in him. Our patrols worry tensions are escalating.”

“So you are here,” she surmised.

Again, he nodded. “So I am.”

Satia nodded and followed his gaze back out to the shadowy outlines of the trees and mountains. “That is why you are such a good pair,” she reminded him gently. “You have walked such a path. You may show the way.”

Maltaf only nodded silently, so Satia patted his chest gently and offered him a soft smile. “You will not find your answers here, my friend. Come away. The padawans are not the only ones in need of a break from contemplation and teachings.”

He rolled his eyes, but a fond smile slipped across his lips once more as she pulled him back towards the firelight. “I trust you have not forgotten your steps?”

“You would have us dance?”

Satia narrowed her eyes. “No sabers this time,” she teased. “I was thinking something more… traditional. You recall the rites?”

He shook his head, but he smiled. “Of course. You’d never let me forget.” She briefly straightened his tunic before they both took a few steps back and Satia offered out her hand first. His fingertips barely brushed hers when he reached back for her, palms to the sky.

Satia’s smile warmed. It had been too long. “I see you, Maltaf Orathuse. I honor your past. Will you honor mine?”

Maltaf took her hand as they stepped closer. Hers had a way of fitting effortlessly into his. The small diamonds across her knuckles dappled golden skin like the stars above danced in the dark of night. “The honor would be mine, Satia Lerann. Will you walk with me to dawn?”

Her fingers tightened around his. “So long as you walk with me.”

When she stepped left, he stepped right, eyes locked together, trying to resist spiraling effortlessly into the soft wooded violet hues of her eyes as they followed the lines and patterns etched across his cheek, flowing over the faded marks of Coruscant a decade prior - a blow he had once taken while she ran ahead.

The mountain air felt crisper, the firelight a bit brighter as it danced with them spinning in the small clearing to drums they remembered in their hearts.

#answered #touch prompts #dot words #swtor fanfic #swtor fanfiction #ch: maltaf #ch: satia #satia's existed for maybe 3 days and she's already making heart eyes at maltaf sknsflnla #smth smth dancing to seal a bond #between friends. for now. >.>

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nyctophiliq · 2 years

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hey!

i would like to request a match up for arcane.

i’m 21 year old woman.

I’m an autistic lesbian.

i’m 5’7

i’m an ambivert, i get energy from hanging out with others but after a while i need time to myself and i enjoy spending time alone. i’m very energetic, i am kind and caring, i am quite a funny person and i enjoy laughing and making jokes.

my hobbies are drawing, acting, writing and dancing.

i’m a black woman, black hair, big brown eyes, dark skin, my face is kind of a diamond shape, high cheekbones.

im a ESFP Sagittarius 🥰

your match-up and star messenger is . . .

SEVIKA (istp) !

you are the "fluffy and sharp edges" couple

sevika and you connect on your attention to detail and your abilities to adapt to change. you both value your personal space and while you love connecting with others or with them on a more serious level sevika is one for intellectual stimulation, which is what both of you are seeking just with different steps in mind.

you encourage sevika to break out of her comfort zone, and try some new things out before drawing judgment on them. she does have a drive for adventure and exploring the world around her, which will likely expand more as your relationship grows but she is so grateful you need some time to yourself and that you enjoy spending time alone just like she does.

sevika might struggle with keeping up with all your jokes since she is a thinker and less of a feeler, she might think that they make no sense and try to argue why it doesn't on a practical level. lots of your problems might stem from communicating, you might feel sevika is too logical, and too serious while she might think you are irrational and illogical. but it can be solved if the two of you compromise, that you understand she isn't trying to insult you and if she adjusts her speech accordingly.

you might think it's silly and that you would never think of sevika as someone who ever wanted to dance but there was a spark in her when she was little, that she wanted to be a performer but times demanded other things from her than her chasing her dreams.

some aspects of your relationship would be:

running away from the enforcer together, maybe even laughing at their slow ass (sevika will even pick you up if it's really serious)

bath dates !!! it's absolutely adorable what sevika can throw together for you in such a thigh space your bathroom is

wearing her scarf

"give her trouble and i will make your eyes into a christmas ornament."

MEETING EACH OTHER !

version 1

on the upper level of zaun, right under the city of piltover was a theater, a place to start if someone wanted to be a dancer or actor but couldn't afford the upper city's unfair prices for education and member fees. you spent the better parts of your days there, either for rehearsal or for shows. it wasn't an easy life to live, the directors were more than gruesome to listen to them, and like everyone else you needed some kind of escape- the last drop is exactly the place where you can blow some steam off, maybe hit up a good chat so you can rant. but with her sitting next to you, eyeing you for a minute before giving you a charming smirk, swirling her drink before finally opening her mouth.

"can i interest you in another round of your drink and maybe a smoke?"

version 2

silco was again dumping the newbies on sevika and she couldn't take it anymore, all of them broke vials, mishandled the packages, and let's not mention how nervous they became when handling a drop-off. she had to teach them, break them in, show them how to do it or else it would come off of her paycheck which was slim even without some rookie mistakes. then came you, someone, who seemed determined and not scared of the people who demanded shimmer but from something else. she took a liking to you the first day and she is not one for learning names, but she wanted to know yours.

"what's your name again? i wanna keep in mind whose neck i need to keep away from the knife."

YOUR SONG IS . . .

generous heart by maya hawke !

#📼 › moss tapes #match up #match up event #arcane match up

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inaris-mage-of-storms · 2 years

Text

Eyyy, we're back! The last few snippets have followed Scar in season 9, but this time we're jumping back to Last Life from Grian's point of view. (Also a quick note, I've changed the name of the series, and for my AO3 readers the first story has had some minor edits to polish it up! The second story will be getting the same treatment in the next few days.)

Prev | Index

It was happening again.

Grian had known it would, could sense the greedy desire for more tell us more show us show us from the beings that had taken such an interest in the first game. (And, he suspected, those same beings were the reason he had felt drawn to seek out a cursed world and invite his friends along in the first place.) He could have ignored the call. He thought about ignoring the call. He really wanted to ignore the call.

And yet.

Every world the Hermits settled on was vast, with plenty of space to seek solitude and plenty of people to seek company. When everyone had returned home at the end of the first game, it had been easy to assure one another that it was just a game, none of it matters here, of course we're all still friends! Then it was time to settle in a new place and there was so much to do, and in the years that followed Grian managed to keep busy enough to avoid thinking about blood-stained sand and split knuckles, and to avoid the uncomfortable way his chest tightened whenever he spent too much time alone with Scar.

And yet.

Grian's first instinct was to seek him out. Only to make a deal, of course, seeing on his communicator that Scar had been given more lives than he had. No other reason, none at all. Surely he was safe, this early in the game. There were no enemies beyond the easily-avoided dangers of everyday life.

And yet.

He saw Scar through the trees just as the sun sank beneath the horizon, and the words readied on his lips died out. They were alone with no ongoing projects to rush off to finish, no other people to rush off to talk to. It was just Grian and just Scar, and Grian hesitated to step closer.

He hesitated too long, and Scar let out a startled yelp when he spotted him before realizing who it was. "For a second there I thought you had diamond armor," said Grian, forcing a smile and looking closer at the illusory magic Scar had woven around himself.

"Oh I do!" said Scar, with a smile that sang of pretty words and trust-me promises. Grian rolled his eyes and moved away from him, lighting up the area with far more torches than was necessary, casting his eyes around for any suspicious movement.

"Everything that happened last time is null and void. Doesn't count, okay?" he said, taking another step away from Scar and pretending not to see the hand that reached for his.

"You mean I can't put you on a llama and take you to the desert?" Scar's tone was light and joking, but the gaze in his dark green eyes was intense and piercing, and Grian definitely didn't want to cry.

"No, everything that happened is in the past now," said Grian firmly. "Are you the boogeyman?" He was asking out of self-preservation, he told himself, out of the need to know if he was looking at an enemy or not. He was safe regardless of the answer, having better armor and a better weapon, but it was best to know all the same. He definitely wasn't asking out of worry that Scar might already be in danger of losing everything, and the sigh of relief at Scar's no was definitely relief at the assurance of his own safety, nothing else.

Dark green. Scar's eyes were dark green, and Grian's were yellow. What he wanted to do and what he needed to do were two different things, and Grian taught Scar how to draw on the magic that would take life from one person and give it to another. He tried to convince Scar to hand one over to him now. "I'll give it right back," he promised.

"How about you do it first?" countered Scar, and Grian was pleased to see (and definitely not the tiniest bit hurt) that Scar was wary of tricks.

"But if I do then I'll be red and I'll kill you," said Grian. He tried to keep his voice steady; he was only pointing out the obvious, after all. But his heart leaped into his throat at the thought. He might only have the faintest memory of what that bloodlust felt like, but the thought of being overcome by it with Scar so close and no one else around terrified him. I can't kill you again. Don't make me kill you again.

By the time Scar gave in and agreed to hand over a life, Grian had made up his mind – he absolutely, without a doubt, needed to avoid Scar as much as possible for the duration of the second game. If Scar kept looking at him like that, like in the end he would do anything and everything that Grian asked of him, Scar was going to die because of him. I can't let that happen. I can't be the reason he dies again.

As soon as he felt the magic of the transfer fade, he turned and ran. "I'm not giving this back!" he shouted over his shoulder. Don't follow me, he pleaded silently. See me as a betrayer, a trickster, not an ally. Just don't follow me. Please.

#trafficshipping #hermitshipping #scarian #file: storm writes things

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nyhne · 2 years

Text

Tag Game To Better Know You! Send this to people you’d like to know better!

Oops late to doing this but thanks for the tag, @puella-peanut !

What book are you currently reading? I’ve been taking a fiction break and reading The Sprawl, by Jason Diamond, which is about reconsidering the bad cultural rep of suburbs. And it’s pretty good! A good amount of research and depth without being too dense, but it’s also not a book that’s pandering to a shallow shelf grab (I will never forgive The Secret Life of Groceries for how bad it was).

What’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year? Oif dude I’m terrible at remembering stuff like that. Did Marry Me come out this year or last year? Because that I will gladly rewatch again and again, so sue me.

What do you usually wear? During the work day it’s old jeans and work-tattered shirts since I’m a landscaper (or in winter’s case, long Johns, wool socks, jeans, undershirt, thin hoodie, thick hoodie). Outside of work, in the summer it’s usually a tucked in t-shirt and high waisted jeans, and in the winter it’s high waisted jeans and a sweater. I live in Seattle so I don’t usually get to wear my “”nicer””” East Coast stuff because god forbid someone wears a pair of slacks casually in this goddang city. (Said with affection for Seattle, but not for its odd fashion limitations).

How tall are you? About 5’2”.

What’s your Star Sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event? Libra, and Keanu Reeves, maybe? Or maybe he’s just a Libra too. Idk, I truly barely keep track of celebrities unless I have to lol.

Do you go by your name or a nick-name? At my last job I went by a shortened name, partially just to try it out (it’s one of my short forms I go by at cafes or for fleeting intros as well), and partially because my boss barely attempted with my full name on day one. Don’t have a lot of fondness for my full name outside of the fact that it means a lot to my mom but it’s whatever. Most online spaces that are relatively separate from “real life” I still go by Roshon.

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child? Hmm not sure I had any concrete ideas on what I wanted to be when I was a kid…fleeting daydreams of geologist, chef, non-specific scientist, civil servant? Museum work when I was in high school and college. And it’s not that I didn’t become any of those things, but I think they’ve all been incorporated into who I am today and I’m not sure I’d need to be any of those things professionally to feel fulfilled. Also I love what I do now, but I highly suspect I’ll be one of those people who live a lot of different lives…restaurant work, administration, landscaping….

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one? Engaged! We’ve been together for about five and a half years. (: does that make me sound old or what lol

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at? Being patient; it’s pretty easy for me to exercise patience and take a step back on stuff. I’m bad at admitting I don’t know things, especially things related to pop culture. There are some things (like knowing actors, for example) I’m very open to admitting, but other things like familiarity with famous movies or tv shows, I’m just bad at admitting I haven’t seen them?? It’s dum. Idk why I’m so self-conscious about it.

Dogs or cats? Both, and even though I live with a dog I adore, on a shallow level I probably still favor cats more? But our dog is very dum and cute.

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this year? Got back into my bullet journal this past year and was pretty pleased with my October theme. Maybe not The Favorite thing I’ve done this year but I’m old and poor with technology so this is as good as it gets. https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRguKuX8/

What’s something you would like to create content for? I still have PruAus fics I want to see through one day. Not necessarily holding myself to that promise. But I’d like to. Not sure if that actually answered the question.

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with? Making a mini crevice garden.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year? My previous job- really liked it when I started, and the first half year I was there, and then slogged through the winter months and thought it’d be better in summer when they get busier but it just felt worse. Not necessarily a purely them thing, I’m sure, but still.

What’s a hidden talent of yours? My German, maybe? That might be more of a ��nobody expects the Asian kid to know any German’ kind of thing, moreso than a hidden talent. Also, half talent, since I’m still not fluent. Did decent when I was in Berlin in October, though!

Are you religious? Spiritual, maybe, religious, no. Still vaguely consider myself Unitarian, but even then it’s still more as a community/mindset thing rather than a religious structure thing.

What’s something you wish to have at this moment? A 7,5-10 gallon tank that’s in a more vertical format rather than horizontal…really itching to redo the scaping in the tank and get a few more fish. Still recovering from the holidays, though, haha. So I guess it all comes back to money, predictably.

#sorry about any odd spacing I’m on mobile and struggling lol #person behind the posts

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insolitus-academy · 1 year

Text

♚ // Face Claim

Full name Face Claim: Lee Minho (Lee Know)

Group/Band/Occupation: Stray Kids

Nationality: Korean

Faceclaim age: 24

♚ // Character ; Basic information

Quote: "Pathetic. But that's my type."

Full name character: Lee Minho

Nickname: Lee Know

Realm of birth(if earth, nationality): Mirror Realm

Age: 99

Date of Birth: October 25th

Gender: Genderfluid

Preferred Pronouns: He/Him or they/them

Race: Mirrorwalker

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

What languages does your character speak?: Korean and Russian

What is the level of Korean and how did they learn to speak it (For non-Korean characters from other realms & other earth-countries): N/A

♚ // Character ; Appearance

Skin Color: Pale

Eye color: Pitch black

Scars: Very small lines on both palms

Piercings: Ear lobes, 2 on each ear

Tattoos: Black diamonds in a V shape on his forehead, but they're usually covered by his fringe

Hair color: Black, although he likes to dye his hair a lot

Abnormalities: none

Horns/ wings/ etc.: N/A

Transformed form: N/A

♚ // Character ; Personality

Six personality traits:

Humorous

Meticulous

Curious

Manipulative

Dishonest

Paranoid

Likes:

Staying up late

Lying

Drawing

Gossiping

Dancing

Dislikes:

Being lied to

Being told what to do

Day time / early mornings

Emotional commitment

Schedules

Manias: Sketching / Art

Phobias: Commitment of any kind

Animal: Pied harrier (Type of Raptor/Bird of Prey)

Religion: N/A

Favorite song: Sweet Juice by Purple Kiss, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WFqGKa6p1V8

Vice: Wrath

Virtue: Temperance

Personality description: Sly and disingenuious, Lee Know never lets others see his true emotions. He hides his darkness under subtle flirtations and cheeky humour. He makes a good first impression and his easy to get along with at first, but he always keeps his friends at arms length apart for fear of them seeing who he truly is. Lee Know is good at speaking when it comes to clear and rehearsed lines, first meetings, small talk, all of that is no struggle for him. What gives him pause is the deeper conversations and those moments when others want to open up to him. Lee Know will listen to someone's troubles, but on the inside he's terrified of getting too close to someone. He holds a dark well of memories in his heart and would rather die than let someone in.

Lee Know is a great liar, although that has gotten him into more than a few issues with others in the past. Lee Know has no limits on what he can lie about, whether it's why he was late on assignments or about his past. He sees social interactions as games and lying as just one of the strategies. He doesn't care too much of the consequences or 'hurting others'. However all of his games and tricks cannot sustain him forever and he knows that. Lee Know is a man who has spent nearly a century running from his own past and messing around as if that would stop the inevitable loneliness. The worst part about it is he had never formed any substantial relationships throughout his life so even if he was to stop his games and tricks there is no one he could turn to.

Despite his sneaky and cunning nature, Lee Know does not like to be on the receiving end of such actions. He dislikes people who try to manipulate him or play games with him. He likes to be the one in control of situations and when he can't pinpoint someone else's motives. Due to his poor skills with empathy he often grows paranoid of others, which is also why he struggles with relationships of any kind.

♚ // Character ; Powers

Magical Powers: Mirror walking, manipulating reflections, can project any image of himself he wants when seen in mirrors although if he steps out of the mirror his true image is revealed

Non-magical Powers: Dancing, singing, physical strength

Weaknesses:

Bright lights: Under bright lights he struggles to concentrate and is prone to headaches.

Things that require high dexterity: This includes having to hold weapons or other items. This is due to the scarring on his palms that prevents him from properly closing his hands around things. This also manifests itself in simply clumsiness like dropping objects.

Empathy: His biggest struggle is genuine empathy as Lee Know is not a very genuine person himself. He fails to understand the feelings of others and most importantly the repercussions of his actions and how they affect those around him.

At least three, Explain them in one or two sentences.

♚ // Character ; The Student

Study Style: Bouts of motivation to study at random intervals. He's pretty bad with deadlines, but when he does finish assignments, the quality is high. He is not a slacker, but his focus is on other things

Favorite class: Ancient Runes

Least favorite class: Maths

classes (5-8) :

Transfiguration

Stealth & sneaking

Ancient runes

Russian

Math I (Beginners)

Theater/drama

Clubs

Gardening class (iagardening)

♚ // Character ; The Past

Date of Birth: October 25th

Date of Death: N/A

Crime Record: Killed a human man and framed it on someone else so his record is "clean", not a big fan of authority or law enforcement, but he'll play by the rules when he's out and about to avoid running into serious problems

Has your character attended Insolitus Academy in the past?

Background:

TW: mention of injury, blood, and there's murder

On a rainy night, alone in his home, a man grieved the tragic loss of his first love, Lee Minho. Every night he would talk to the mirror and tell it all the things he wished he could have said to his beloved. From the empty void of the mirror realm appeared Lee Know who was instantly draw to the cries of the human. At first he was just a shadow, but slowly as the human poured his heart out, Lee Know shaped and molded himself in the image of the human's dead lover. Like clockwork, every night the human would call Lee Know's name in the mirror and see his beloved staring right back at him. The human was none the wiser to the supernatural abilities of his mirror lover, and thought this was a divine experience. Lee Know would smile when the human smiled, look sad when he poured his heart out, and most importantly, filled the void in the human's heart. It wasn't until a few years into their regular meetings that Lee Know attempted to reach out to the man and give him something more, something beyond just a pretty face in the mirror. Unfortunately the human did not respond well to this advancement and rushed out of the room. Lee Know spent the next few months alone and confused, abandoned, but for what? Did the human only want a silent lover? Did he discover that his grief had created not his dead lover-- but a being from beyond the mortal realm?

When the human returned, he called out to Lee Know and asked if he was real. Lee Know feared abandonment again so he did not speak nor did he reach out. Their relationship continued as usual, with Lee Know being the silent face in the mirror. He listened to the human's woes and offered him compassion in silence. Their relationship would go on to last years more. Lee Know saw the human age, get his first promotion, and soon go on to have a successful career as a salesman. Lee Know was still unaware of the true extent of his powers or what wonders the human world held. One day during one of their regular meetings, the human told Lee Know that he had found someone at work he really liked and that it was thanks to Lee Know that he found the strength to fall in love again. Upon hearing this Lee Know felt scared and confused, he didn't want to think about the only person he had loved to love someone else. He kept his silence though, for fear that if he were to try and reach out again, the human would not return.

And so days went by and Lee Know watched the human and his new lover develop their relationship. It didn't take long for Lee Know to feel jealousy and spite towards the new man as he felt as if he was quickly forgotten. Lee Know and the human's communications became less frequent, but that didn't mean he wasn't watching. He saw everything; the fights, the passionate moments the two shared in private, the cute dinners they had after work. It got to the point where Lee Know couldn't take it anymore and he knew he had to do something.

So on one evening, Lee Know ventured outside of the mirror realm and crept across the floor and towards the edge of the bed where the sleeping couple lay. He crept up to his target and wrapped his fingers around his neck-- but his movements woke both men up and the human whom he loved so dearly pushed him off the bed and the three began a fierce brawl. The human called Lee Know a demon, a poltergeist, every name he could think of. Lee Know knew he was outmatched, two to one, and he tried to make his way back to his mirror, back to safety. But before he could reach it, the human threw a lamp at the mirror, shattering it completely. Lee Know grabbed at the shards of glass, trying to piece them together, desperate to just go back home. Blood covered the floor as Lee Know struggled against the two humans. Eventually Lee know grabbed a large shard and stabbed the human that made his existence possible. Quickly realising what he had done, Lee Know rushed out of the room, heading towards the washroom that he knew had a mirror. Unfortunately the second human was in pursuit, wanting to avenge his fallen partner. Lee Know somehow made it through the mirror of the washroom-- where the human could not follow.

The aftermath of that day played out just as anyone would expect. An investigation squad appeared to examine the crime scene. Although the human's partner spoke of the 'man in the mirror' the cops did not buy it and in the end, he was the one charged for his partner's murder. Lee Know was filled with anger and regret from that day, which also prompted his name change to Lee Know, for he never wanted to hear anyone call him Lee Minho again. Lee Know existence became a hollow one from that day forward. Too afraid to get close to humans again, he decided to tease them instead. He'd appear in people's mirrors to scare them, sometimes he would watch people as they slept. He especially enjoyed seeing happy couples and scaring them with odd noises or frightening growling noises. Lee Know explored his powers as a mirrorwalker a little more as well, becoming adept at finding places with mirrors to peer into. He especially loved abandoned houses, those were his favourite places.

Although he didn't have many relationships to speak of, Lee Know felt solace in the arts. Out of all the people, artists were the most open to his presence. He was the muse for a number of painters and artisans as well as a few dancers who found the shadow man from the mirror enchanting. He learned a variety of artistic skills from people from around Korea and Russia, the two places he travelled the most in his nearly century long existence. His reason for enrolling in Insolitus Academy was for arts, but being around fellow mythical creatures was also a bonus. Lee Know had terrorised humans most of his life, he was looking forward to learning about other creatures aside from his fellow mirrorwalkers.

♚ // Roleplayer

[ optional ]

Time zone: JST GMT +9

OOC! Triggers: trypophobia

Themes/genres you like writing the most?: Slowburn relationships (doesn't have to be romantic), poetic romance, sensual scenes (doesn't have to involve smut but I am open to that)

#iacharacter #lee know #mirrorwalker #student

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