#need to draw him more to pinpoint a design

[meerabanerjee]

Kit Herondale 💙

For @wikitpowers 🫶

[anjelicawrites]

Paring: Armand x reader

Synopsis: you're sitting in a pub, you start drawing the mysterious stranger sitting not far away from you. When he discovers you, you don’t realize you’ve picked the attention of a dangerous creature.

Warnings: reference to past injury, self doubt, allusion to past trauma.

A/N: reader is AFAB. They/them pronouns used.

The wind is howling outside the thick windows of the pub, dark clouds promising heavy rain and violent waves against the jagged coast not too far from the narrow road where the pub is built. The fire is roaring in the huge hearth, shadowed by too many people huddling there to nurse their drinks; the lights are dim against the old wooden panels, giving the overcrowded room a homely air.

You beer sits next to the small case full of your pencils as you draw in the dim lights of the overcrowded room.

Your head sits lightly on your free hand as the other rushes to finish the quick sketch you’re working on, before your, unintentional, muse decides to leave; you’re hoping the promise of heavy rain will convince the man to stay a little longer. Who knows if he will or he will try his luck, now that the wind has picked up even more violently.

You focus again on the black lines on the sheet of paper, finishing the outline to start working on the elegant sweater he’s wearing; you’re no expert but it looks expensive, and warm, and soft. A real nightmare to draw using only a charcoal pencil, since you are planning to add colors and you don’t want to put too many shadows that aren’t there.

“It has been a long time since anyone ever painted me. I was given the chance to pose back then, for hours, I have to admit.”

The soft voice makes you lift your head in surprise; dimly you think that there is an accent you can’t truly pinpoint, his words almost neutral in their intonation.

“It’s actually a drawing, not a painting.”

You want to drown in your own sweater at how stupid your response sounds.

“May I sit?”

You can’t see his eyes, hidden behind his wraparounds sunglasses and his expression is hard to read: you’d hate to cause a scene, not everyone appreciates being portrayed in secret.

“Please, do.”

Carefully you move your beer more on the side of the small round table, the too long sleeve of your sweater uncovering partially the black burn glove on your left hand, despite you racing to hide it again.

The man sits down, gracefully and only now you notice he has no drink with him: he must have entered the pub to escape the oncoming storm. He only lays an elegant cigarette case on the battered table, the ornate, intricate designs catch your attention from the rowdy crowd of the pub.

He is stunningly beautiful, but this you realized when you eyes had landed on him, whilst you were sipping your beer and wondering what, or who, you could sketch to pass the time; what truly draw your attention was his aura, so calm, yet it gave you the sense of someone who keeps a tight lid on their emotions, like a summer evening when you know it’s going to rain soon.

“Are you an artist?”

Again, his soft voice drags you back from your thoughts, the musicality of it makes you want to listen to him reading his grocery shop list, if that meant just hearing it.

“No, not really, it’s just a hobby.”

“You have a great deal of sketches in your book, and in your little case.”

Almost on instinct you want to grab your work and curl around it in protection; it’s the gut reaction of a second, you aren’t in that position anymore, this man will not tear your works into shreds for no reason.

“It’s something I haven’t done for a while and then I had decided to pick it up again. We can’t only work all the time, can’t we? We need to treat ourselves.” You say with a smile.

“I am acquainted with that meme.”

It surprises you that he feels the need to convey his knowledge: what a strange man.

“This is my way to treat myself.”

“By drawing unsuspecting strangers?”

There’s no heath in his words, no rage, perhaps a bit of curiosity.

“By drawing what, or who, catches my eyes.” You answer, parroting his words. “I love to hang somewhere and just let my eyes wander. I can stop sketching you, if you want, I know it’s disconcerting for some people.”

You can truly feel the weight of his gaze, still hidden by the sunglasses, even now that the pub is bathed in the dark light from outside. This stranger is not simply looking at you, you feel as if he’s taking you apart to catalog every single piece of yourself he can find, like an entomologist does with a pinned butterfly.

You know you shouldn't feel so calm under his scrutiny, that you should bid your farewell and go home, but you can’t help yourself: you want this stranger to keep looking at you like he would the pieces of a puzzle he desperately needs to put together. No matter how dangerous the consequences.

A shiver runs down the damaged nerves on your left arm, and you decide to ignore the warning.

“Why should you? You’re very talented.”

All of his nervousness now shows itself in the way his index fingers fiddles with the cigarette case, his hidden gaze fixed upon you.

“It’s a shame it’s not possible to smoke in public places such as this one anymore.”

How strange! You think. The law passed here in 2004 and he talks about it as if he had experienced how it was before. He can’t be that old!

He seems to have made his mind as his hand gently grasps the sunglasses, as if ready to remove them.

“Please, don’t!” In your haste you lift your hand, almost to stop him. “The most interesting part is to guess and imagine. Do keep wearing them.”

There’s a slew of small expressions playing on his face, all to hide his surprise and, perhaps, curiosity?

You grab the charcoal pencil in a tighter grip and go back to your work, losing yourself in the quick, almost nervous motions of your hand on the paper: you don’t know why you feel like you have to rush, to capture the fleeting essence of this nameless man, but you do.

With every ticking second you believe you’re going to lose the feeble hold you have on the ideas crowding your mind, with every stroke you fear you’re drifting far away from the first image of sadness and loneliness that lighted up in your mind, as soon as you saw him, sitting alone in the pub, under lights that enhanced his otherworldly beauty, the very thing that set him apart from all the other men present.

You only need to glance at him sparsely, to make sure to capture the texture of his hair and the folds of his sweater, the long lines of his fingers against the battered wood of the table.

Only when you’re finished, you realize you have been holding your breathe for most of the sketching and you have to force yourself to take a big gulp of air, before turning your sketchbook to him, while grabbing your beer again.

You’re learning not to be shy, when it comes to your creations, to share them with the world, to accept the criticism and the compliments; not now. Now you’re crawling out of your shell again, trying to draw while being filled with self doubts and hating every single piece you created, those past months disappearing in your mind, along with the strength you built for yourself.

His piercing gaze is now turned on your drawing, that analytical stare that cut you into layers and layers, now is doing the same to your work, and to himself: you’d do anything to know his thoughts, now that his face shows nothing.

Under the stillness a maelstrom rages. The man looking back at him from the page is a knot of everything he’s always felt and never told. Through the fast strokes of his eyes, he can see all his hardships, all he’s done and lost for centuries, pain and desperation, in a way a simple mirror would never show him: how a simple mortal like you could read him so deeply after staring at him, comes as a surprise. You’re nothing but a child, compared to him, yet you have the understanding of a much older person, as if you’ve experienced the depths of hell, only to expose it in your art, and to him.

It takes a lot of restrain for Armand to show nothing of his internal turmoil: it has been so long since someone managed to pin him down so precisely, so perfectly, he has to fight the instinct to stand up and storm out, away from you and your keen eyes; he wonders if you have done the same to other people, read them so perfectly and bluntly putting them in front of their own soul, like his fledgling had done to him. Do you know how dangerous you are? Do you have any inkling of how easily you could destroy a person’s life? Would you do that in the name of the truth?

“It’s awful, isn’t it? It’s not worth keeping.”

You reach with your good hand to slip the sketchbook away from his grasp and he stops you with elegant fingers on your wrist. His grasp is not strong, it doesn’t hurt, but holds a secret strength you can feel traveling up your arm and makes you shiver with the need for more.

“It’s beautiful.” He says, after a heartbeat, still holding you in place. “The one who painted me wasn’t as good an artist as you are, he lacked the depth you hold.”

His face is now turned back to you, his hidden, piercing stare focused on your features, analyzing you again, as if wanting to explore the hidden crevices of your soul.

“Thank you.” You stammer. “I’m glad you like it.”

Still, he says nothing, making you feel self-conscious of your own existence in this small pub on the coast.

“Would it be too forward of me to ask you to gift me this sketch?”

You’re too dazzled yourself to notice the small quiver in his soft voice.

“Oh! That’s the first time anyone has asked me that.”

Right now the people around you two don’t exist, nor is the wind beating down the old windows and stones of the building. There are no passing cars outside, nor are the waves crashing against the high cliffs, just a handful of miles from here.

“I thought I wanted to color it.”

“I think it’s perfect this way.”

He knows a finished work will incinerate him on the spot, because he will never be able not to stare at it, at himself, like Dorian Gray, to face all his centuries on this Earth.

“You’re too good to me. It’s really just a small sketch.”

“You’re selling yourself short. You have something many professional artists lack.”

When his big hand releases yours, the spell you were under breaks and all the sounds around you attack you again, adding to the fog you’re still feeling clouding your brain.

Almost through a dream, you take the sketchbook from his hand and cut the page off with the small pocket knife you keep in your pouch to sharpen some of your thicker pencils.

“It’s yours, my personal thank you for appreciating my work.”

His fingers touch yours again on the thin piece of paper and only now you notice how cold they are, despite the heath in the pub.

“Thank you.” There’s no calculation in his words, he feels real gratitude, the feeling burning brightly in the scorched desert of his soul. “I don’t even know your name.”

When you answer his question, you feel like he’s got a hold on your soul, like in the stories about the fairies.

“My name is Armand.”

A french name to someone who hasn’t a french accent, but nowadays people call their children anything, you think.

“Are you here on holiday?”

You can see the cheeky way his mouth turns when he smiles at your question.

“I thought I was simply passing through, but I am fascinated with how this area has changed, I think I am going to stay, for a while.”

You almost don’t notice the way he refers to this place as if he’s visited it years and years ago. Almost.

“Do you have somewhere to carry it? My sketch I mean. It has just started to rain.”

“Unfortunately I don’t. And I don’t wish to ruin it.”

“Here, use this!”

With much too haste, you empty the case where you carry your bigger pieces and hand it over to him.

“I can’t possibly accept it. Your other works will be destroyed by the rain.”

“I can roll them up and keep them in my bag, it’s big enough. Besides, that one is fresh, if you do the same to it, it will get ruined.”

“I still need to refund you yours.”

“There’s no need. If you’re staying, you’ll give it back whenever you can. There aren’t many meeting places here.”

The old trick always works: you are all so easy to manipulate.

“Then I shall give it back as soon is possible.”

His hands don’t tremble when they take the case from you, touching the sketch again doesn’t burn him the same way the first time did, but he knows he’s still affected, and needs to understand why.

“Regrettably, I need to go now.”

He lies, a part of him wants to stay to take your brain apart until he knows all the ways the mechanisms work there, but it’s too early for that.

“It’s raining pretty hard.”

“My car is parked nearby and your lovely sketch is safe.”

He doesn’t have a car, but he has faster means of transportation that defy such a small thing as rain.

Before you can stand up, he gracefully takes your hand to kiss the palm, ignoring the smudges of charcoal. He does it the classy way: his lips don’t touch your skin.

“Thank you again for your gift.”

“No, thank you for humoring me. I hope I’ll see you soon!”

Oh, he thinks, you have no idea how ‘soon’ can become ‘now’.

[newluvrs]

Sohee ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎  mdni!! 18+ currently listening to: ゆめうつつ - LAMP word count: 4.9k bb note: tried something a little different with this one

The first time Sohee sees you he doesn’t actually see you.  It’s the first day of his Drawing Foundations class and truly he would rather be anywhere else.  He’s so shit at drawing and art, but he needed it to fill a gen ed requirement and he’s heard that the class is an easy A.  The professor is reviewing the syllabus and everything inside him wants to drop the class.  It’s a studio art class meaning it’s 3 hours long, the class is smack in the middle of his day on a Monday of all days, and every assignment the professor reads off sounds terrifying.  What the fuck is conte anyways? Sohee’s never heard of it and he’s not sure he gives a shit about it.  Sohee wants to roll his eyes when the professor is expecting an assignment completed by the end of class because of course he would ask something like that on the first day.  He’s assigned an easel where he props up a rather large drawing pad.  Sohee dreads the thought of having to fill such a large space with artwork when he can barely draw a straight line.  Sure the class is for beginners, but Sohee feels like he is embarrassingly bad.  

He’s attempting a very poor rendition of still life comprised of his bag’s contents when he’s positive he’s made up his mind.  He needs to drop this class before he has to face this for an entire semester.  But when he contemplates ducking out of the class early so he can spend the rest of the day browsing for a different one, something in the room shifts.  It’s like something within him is screaming at him to turn around.  When he does he sees you, well he doesn’t actually see you because your hidden behind your designated easel, but it’s like he feels you.  It makes him so badly want to see who it is that is sitting behind the imposing object.  It irks him for the rest of class until the professor announces that the time is up and it’s time for everyone to show what it is that they’ve done.  Sohee lays his eyes on you when you make your way to the front of the room to display your drawing pad.  It’s like all the breath in his lungs gets knocked out of him when he sees you.  His mouth goes dry and he starts fidgeting with his hands, nerves overtaking him.  And what you’ve drawn is far too good for a class that is intended for beginners, lines clean and neat, shading added, a singular light source indicated in your piece.  If it were anyone else Sohee would scoff and call it pretentious, but you are far cry from what he would designate pretentious.  Any and all praise that gets awarded to you (and the professor is sure to give you plenty) is well deserved, and if anything Sohee thinks you deserve more.  Needless to say he changes the mind about leaving, even after presenting his poor attempt at a still life and proceeding to get picked apart.  Is he a little insane for choosing to stay in a 3-hour class for a girl who he saw for the first time that day? Maybe, but nobody could ever convince him of that.  

The second time Sohee sees you, he realizes that there’s something… off about you.  But for the life of him he cannot pinpoint what exactly it is.  As the class proceeds, he thinks he’s glanced at you about 100 times in an hour alone.  You’re frighteningly beautiful, but in a way that should never be looked at, like if you stare too long it’ll hurt you.  The longer he watches you, the harder it is for him to figure you out.  Maybe it’s your mannerisms.. the way you hold eye contact a little too long or the way you never speak.  Or maybe it’s the way you look, your lips a little too pink, eyes a little too doe eyed. He can’t pinpoint what is about you that made him so nervous.  It’s not that you looked mean, you just looked.. blank; unreadable.  Aura overpowering everyone elses, making it hard for him to just breathe next to you.  Sohee’s convinced your like an actual angel who fell to earth and doesn’t know how to act.  He finds himself wanting to do things he’s never done before.  He wants so badly to make you laugh, to change your blank expression for once into something he actually recognizes.  Something within him makes him feel like he would do anything to entertain you, and it’s a dangerous feeling.  

The first time he actually hears you speak without first being spoken to, it’s a critique day.  Your first official project is being presented for all of class to see, and Sohee is truthfully dreading it.  He feels like he has improved in his art skills absolutely none at all and he does not want to hear it from the professor.  It does not help that the professor has tasked you all with drawing the exact same thing, meaning his art skills will be put up against everyone else’s.  He tries to comfort himself by saying that at least he gets to see what you’ve done, to him it feels like a small peek into your brain.  And of course you’re critique is perfect, the professor not criticizing you in the slightest even though it’s quite literally in the name that you have to.  Sohee looks at your lines, and he can see where you intentionally smudged the graphite of the pencil to make a blurred effect.  For a moment he thinks about copying some of the techniques you use, maybe he’d actually learn a thing or two. 

The professor approaches his piece and Sohee shuts his eyes like it’ll help him get through the critique any faster.  Spoiler alert it does not and the professor hates this one just as much as he has hated every other thing Sohee has done.  If you weren’t so pretty Sohee thinks he might hate you for every glowing review you receive alone.  He nods his head to every comment the professor makes, pretending to make mental notes about what the professor is saying.  He lets out a breath he didn’t recognize he was holding when the professor finally moves past his.  He tries his best to act like he doesn’t care about whether or not his art is good, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed.  Sohee had actually put in a lot of work into this piece, making trips to the studio when it was open on the weekend.  He had even tried using charcoal in an attempt to cover up his scratchy lines, hoping that maybe that way they would at least look intentional.  When he resigns himself to the idea that he’s just not gonna be good at art, he feels that you’re standing near him.  

“it’s very tender.”

The way your voice cuts through the air is melodic, like a song made just for him, and if he wasn’t already watching you when you said it, he would think he imagined it.  He looks at your profile, and you’re not speaking to him, but speaking to yourself.  He wonders if you’re aware that he’s even there because you’re so immersed in looking at what he’s done.  The thought occurs to him again that you’re weirdly off putting.  But in a way that makes him want to be around you more.  Like he doesn’t ever want to leave your side so he can watch you a little longer.  He’s never felt such an intense urge to crawl inside someone’s mind

As the weeks pass, he starts to recognize that he’s not the only one who can tell that you’re different.  He watches how people interact with you in class, how they can’t hold eye contact with you, or how they stumble over their words when they speak to you.  He feels a little bit better to realize it’s a universal feeling and that he’s not completely insane.  Unfortunately this also means that he’s not the only one who can see that you’re beautiful.  At this point he’s seen you outside of class multiple times, always unable to take his eyes off you no matter where he is or what he’s doing.  He’s come across you in the dining hall, seen you with your friends in the student union, he’s even starting to realize that you frequent the same parties he does.  This means he’s subjected to the sight of men approaching you.  Time and time again he watches a boy approach you with the intention of making you laugh and getting your number, maybe even getting into your pants.  

The first time he sees it a fear envelops him, like he was too late to make a move and now here comes some random guy to sweep you off your feet.  Jealousy sweeping over him when he watches a boy approach you with ease at a party in a way he never could bring himself to do.  He recognizes that it’s a friend of a friend and it just makes him more annoyed. But as he continues to watch on, he feels satisfaction settling in his chest.  He sees the boy’s futile attempts to make you laugh as you just watch him with your standard expression, drink in your hand.  It’s obvious when the boy is starting to catch on that he’s not charming you like he thought.  Sohee breaks into a smile when the boy starts fidgeting, shifting from foot to foot nervously before finally retreating in defeat.  This will not be the first time Sohee watches someone approach you and honestly, he’s starting to develop a sick fascination with watching the interaction.  He likes to see the moment they realize they aren’t gonna get with you, it makes him feel better for already knowing that it’s not going to work on you.  Like he’s better for recognizing that you aren’t easy to impress.  

Sohee tries to scheme up ways to speak to you, but every time he sees you he draws a blank.  Sure he’s relatively introverted, but he knows he can at least talk to pretty girls.  He’s done it plenty times before, if anything he’s good at it; but something about you just makes him completely change.  He knows he’s obnoxious when he’s with his friends, cracking jokes and loud mouthed when with familiar company.  But if he sees you coming near or even remotely in the same space, his personality is doing a complete 180.  His friends make fun of him each time he does it, laughing at how he goes from being rambunctious to immediately on his best behavior.  And Sohee will take the jabs any day as long as it means that you don’t see him like one of the stupid boys who choose to approach you.  He just wishes one day you’ll let him close enough to even scratch the surface of your true personality.  To give him something to indicate what it is that you’re into.  

His opportunity comes extremely unexpectedly and completely on accident.  He’s late leaving class one day, too caught up in trying to perfect his midterm project to notice that it’s 15 minutes past class time being up.  He doesn’t realize it until the next professor is entering the room to set up the studio space.  He apologizes as he throws his supplies in his bag, leaving the room as quickly as he can.  He doesn’t even realize that you were late leaving too, not until he enters the elevator and you immediately follow behind him.  Sohee feels like he’s going to burn up in the small space, so he tucks himself in the back of the elevator and tries to be as still as he can, like maybe if he doesn’t move you won’t see him.  That’s when he sees it, the tiniest indication of your interests.  As the elevator starts its trek to the first floor he’s staring at your bag which for the most part is unassuming.  But the glint of a korok charm hanging from your zipper catches his eye.  Before he can stop himself he’s speaking, breaking the silence of the elevator ride.

“You like Zelda?”

As soon as he speaks he wants to slap a hand over his mouth, like he can’t believe he just spoke to you for one, and for two he can’t believe he asked it in such a bewildered tone.  He half considers getting off on the next stop and just taking the stairs the rest of the way down.  But then you do the unexpected; you turn to him.  

“I love Zelda.”

A smile graces your features, and Sohee can physically feel the way his heart cracks in two.  He realizes right then and there that he would do anything to get you to smile at him again. 

“I’m Sohee.”  

“I know.”  

You’re terrifying and Sohee can feel the way his palms are starting to sweat.  

“I’m y/n.”

“I know.” 

You smile at him wider when he says it, and he hears the way you exhale a breath through your nose.  It’s the closest thing to a laugh he’s heard from you and Sohee tries not to let it immediately go to his head.  He glances behind you and he can see the way the numbers are getting closer and closer to the bottom floor.  

“My favorite is Twilight Princess.”  

He’s shocked when you speak again and he thinks about how he wants to stand in your light for as long as you’ll let him.  

“I have an affinity for Majora’s Mask.”  

You hum to yourself in acknowledgement when he says this, and when you open your mouth to speak again the elevator doors open with a ding.  Sohee curses to himself in his head, he’s never wished for an elevator to malfunction more than now.  You smile at him one more time before you turn to leave and Sohee has to look away at how overwhelming it is.  

“See you next time Sohee.” 

And then you’re gone.  Sohee stands there so long that the elevator doors try to close on him.  He can’t believe that that just happened, and instead of scratching the itch he had to talk to you, all it does is feed into it further.  He thinks about how he needs to hear you speak to him again, how he needs to hear you say his name again.  He smiles like an idiot for the rest of the day as he schemes of something else to say to you the next time he sees you.  

In a suprising turn of events, he does not have to try hard at all.  Matter of fact he doesn’t even have to try because the next time you have class together, you choose the easel next to his.  At first Sohee thinks maybe it’s a fluke, like the universe has decided to smile kindly on him this one time.  It only dawns on him that this was intentional when you speak up next to him, clearing your throat as the both of you work on drawing the fruits displayed on the table in front of you.  

“So do you play any other Nintendo?” 

Sohee prays that you don’t see the way he nearly jumped out of his skin when you spoke.  For the rest of class that’s what the two of you talk about.  Every now and then in between you lean over to look at what it is he’s drawing and you give him a few tips.  Sohee revels in the smile you give him when you catch him utilizing your advice.  Much to Sohee’s dismay, apparently 3 hours passes by extremely quickly when you’re actually enjoying yourself.  When the time is called and everyone starts packing their belongings Sohee does his best not to be disappointed.  He’s failing terribly at it but then he notices how you linger after you’ve packed your things.  There’s no way you’re actually waiting on him.  When you follow Sohee out of the studio he still thinks it’s a coincidence.  The elevator ride this time around is silent, and when it’s almost at the bottom you speak up.

“We should play together sometime.”  

Sohee’s head snaps up at this and when he looks at you you’re already staring at him, making his heart feel like it’s in his stomach.  Sohee may be a little dense sometimes but he can at least recognize that this is a clear invitation from you, so he leaps at the chance.  

“Do you want to come over Saturday night for Mario Kart?”

The way it takes you less than a second to agree makes Sohee feel a little too cocky for someone who can’t hold eye contact with you for longer than 5 seconds.  He feels like he’s in a daze when you hand him your phone to put in his number.  He only comes to after you say goodbye and there’s a message on his phone.  It’s simple enough, all it reads is ‘y/n’, but he feels like he’s on cloud 9.  

Sohee’s excitement quickly shifts to dread when he realizes that despite the interactions he’s had with you, he still cannot read you at all.  It drives him crazy, the way that you’ve showed him nothing about you.  It’s a stark contrast to how he feels so exposed every time he speaks to you.  It’s like you can see all of him and it plagues his thoughts for the rest of the week.  In the days leading up to Saturday you don’t message him, so he doesn’t message you.  He’s not even sure what he would say, and he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself.  He spends all of Friday cleaning his apartment, making sure everything is spick and span.  He bans his roommate from spending anytime in the common living area until after Saturday.  He even goes out and buys candles for each room, just so it’ll be a little more appealing.  When Saturday comes, he finds himself paying his roommate 40 bucks to fuck off for the evening.  He thinks it’s worth it if it means he’ll have your undivided attention. 

When you’re knocking on his door, he’s a mess of excitement and nerves.  You greet him with a smile and your wide-eyed stare.  Immediately he’s stepping aside to let you in, telling you to make yourself more comfortable.  You toe off your shoes at his front door, making your way further into his living room to see his switch already set up, Mario Kart ready to go.  Sohee thought about having it in his room, but he felt like maybe it would seem a little presumptuous of him.  When you take a seat on his couch, he thinks the sight of you in his living room is something he wants to see forever.  You curl into the blankets left for you, covering your exposed legs, and to Sohee you just look like you belong.  When you catch him staring he rips his eyes away from you and all you can do is smirk to yourself.  He makes sure to leave room between you and him on the couch when he goes to sit and you make a mental note of the distance between you.  

Sohee quickly learns that you’re extremely competitive and way better at mario kart than you let on, and he makes sure you know that.  He almost feels embarrassed about how he boasted that he beats every one of his friends every time, because right now you have won every single round.  You didn’t even fall off the track a single time on rainbow road, making sure to use the drift controls to pad your turns.  When you turn to look at him mid round, you can see how he pouts his lips in concentration and it makes you want to lean over and crowd his space.  As the game proceeds, the volume and familiarity in which the two of you speaks only gets more extreme.  The two of you went from only saying a few words to each other and speaking only when needed to calling the other names and claiming the unfair use of an item.  Sohee even rolled his eyes at you after you called him a loser.  

After winning your 5th cup in a row, Sohee decides it’s time to for a break.  He throws his head back on the couch in frustration as your victory screen plays for the millionth time it feels like.  When you reach out a hand to push on his shoulder at his dramaticism, only then does he notice how close the two of you managed to get throughout the games played.  When he looks between the two of you your legs are nearly touching, with only a few inches of space between the two of you.  He does his best not to seem nervous when he subtly tries to slide away from you, but when you close the space between the two of you he feels like his heart is gonna leap from his chest.  Instead of looking at you, he turns away, avoiding your gaze and playing dumb.  When you place a hand on his knee he feels heat make its way up his spine.  Your delicate fingers glide to the inside of his knee as you open your mouth to speak.  

“You’re really cute Sohee.”  

Finally he’s turning to look at you, and the heaviness in your gaze is enough to floor him.  For once, you are easy to read, the lust obvious in your eyes and in the way your fingers are inching closer to his thigh.  He leans in before you have time to react and kisses you.  It’s brief, just a quick peck and he mostly did it on instinct.  When he sees that he caught you off guard, he feels cockiness starting to set in.  He knows that you’re having fun toying with him at this point, so to be able to catch you off guard even for a moment makes him satisfied.  Your eyes flicker down to his lips and he’s leaning in again, with conviction this time, plush lips slotting against yours.  It takes you no time before your kissing him back, moving your mouth in tandem with his.  He brings a hand to cup your jaw as the kiss intensifies, both of you breathing heavily through your nose.  The way your lips feel against his is so soft, and he can taste the sweetness of your lip balm.  

Your hand creeps up to rest on his inner thigh and Sohee feels his cock jump in his shorts.  He presses his hips forward to indicate that its okay, not wanting to break the kiss he so badly longed for.  When he feels your hand finally touch where he needs you most he moans against your lips and the sound makes you want to devour him whole.  You press your palm against him as you break away from the kiss, trying to catch your breath while simultaneously trying to get a look at his pretty face.  He looks so dazed, his lips are swollen from your kisses with his chest heaving with each breath he takes.  He grinds against your palm and the action makes you rub your thighs together, he’s just so cute.  He can tell the effect he’s having on you and all it does is stroke his ego.  

“Is this turning you on?”  

His voice is a wreck and borders on whiny, but he doesn’t care, not when your pupils look so blown.  You nod your head as you bite your lip, starting to feel restless now, the achiness beginning to be a little too much.  Sohee spreads his legs to give you more room, shamelessly pushing into your hand each time you press down.  He looks at you and he can see you’re practically panting as you watch him.  You pull your hand away, ceasing your movements, obsessed with the way you can see him twitch in his pants.  Sohee realizes then that you’re just as fascinated with him as he is with you.  He guides your hand back down to grip him, but this time he holds it against him.  He looks you in the eyes as he grinds his hips up into your combined hands, moaning into the air as he does so.  He watches the way you cross your legs a little tighter, trying to give yourself something.

He pulls you in for another kiss with his unoccupied hand on the back of your neck.  It’s sloppy and uncoordinated but Sohee doesn’t care, he just needs to be pressed against you.  When you start to whine into his mouth he breaks away to see the reason you sound that way, coming face to face with the sight of you sticking your own hand in your shorts.  He swears he could cum right then and there.  His view is obstructed, and he hates it, he wants to see the exact way you like your clit played with.  The angle is the awkward with how your kneeled next to him on the couch and Sohee gets an idea.  When he pulls your hand away from him, the distressed look on your face makes him want to let you keep going.  Wordlessly, he moves to one end of the couch, sitting so his back is against the arm rest, legs resting on the cushions.  

“Come sit on my lap.”

You think that you would do anything he asked when he sounds that pretty saying it.  Reluctantly, you pull your fingers off your clit and crawl towards him on the couch until your resting against his thighs.  Sohee sees the wet patch against your shorts and lets out a groan, reaching a hand into his own.  He pulls his waistband down just enough to be able to wrap his hand fully around his cock.  You follow his lead, reaching your hand back into your pants to resume your earlier movement, but now you can see all of him.  The room is so hot Sohee thinks he may burn alive, but it would be a good way to go.  Especially when you’re moaning so prettily for him on his lap, touching yourself to him.  

“You’re so pretty y/n”

He means it.  Everything about you draws him in, consuming him with the need to be around you and hear your every thought.  His hand not being used to touch himself rests on your inner thigh, stroking up and down, resisting the urge to touch you exactly where he wants to.  When you start to hump your own hand, Sohee begins to stroke himself faster, matching your movements.  He sees the wet patch on your shorts getting darker and he thinks about how bad he wants to taste you.  When he realizes he can hear how wet you sound even with your shorts still covering you, Sohee thinks he might combust.  Your movements are starting to get jerky, hips kicking involuntarily as you rub yourself faster.

“Sohee ’m gonna cum.”

Your voice is still as sweet and melodic as ever, whines making it sound severely more erotic.  He hears the way you moan his name and thinks that’s the only sound he wants to hear for the rest of his life.  He watches on with boyish fascination as you grind against your hand a few more times, body shaking as you cum.  He takes in how your thighs try and close, your fingers working you through your orgasm, body letting out twitches from above him as you gasp.   You have to put a hand on Sohee’s shoulder to stop yourself from collapsing completely against him.  Hand still once you’re too sensitive.  

Sohee is almost there, he can feel it, his lower stomach tensing as his movements grow faster.  You pull the hand that’s from your pants and swat his hand away, replacing it with your own.  Sohee groans at how warm and wet your hand is, thinking about how you were just using that same hand to play with your pussy.  You flick your wrist quickly, trying to get him there as he whines, squirming from the friction of your hand.  When he finally comes it’s intense and overwhelming, your thumb brushing over the head as he spills all over your hand, his body shuddering as he cries out your name.  You watch on as his whole body shakes and twitches until he's finally had enough, pushing at your hand to stop.  

You both can’t stop staring at each other as you sit there and catch your breath.  Absentmindedly he reaches his clean hand out to trace the features of your face.  You mirror him, starting at his eyebrows and ending at his lips.  You start to giggle and Sohee thinks about how terribly he wanted to hear that sound a few weeks ago and how gratifying it is to hear it now.  He wishes you would let him record it so he could hear it whenever he wanted to.  He looks at you with a smile of his own, letting out a ‘hm?’ Your answer being something he never expected to hear.  

“I think I’m a little obsessed with you.”

The irony is not lost on him.  

[misguidedasgardian]

I need to... (1)

1... Get the f*ck out of here

MASTERLIST

Summary: An awful event leads you to rethink of everything

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader (for now)

Warnings: There are mentions of them being Minors! at some point in their relationship, cursing, cheating, angst, depression, age gap (not for reader), coercion, toxic relationship, drinking alcohol to cope, in some countries it is underage drinking, (reader is 18). might forget some warnings…

Wordcount: 4 k

Notes: This just started like a blurb, and now we are here. AAAHHHH this is going to be soft, romcom sort of thing, but a bit angsty at first… 

You knew him like the palm of your hand, and that is how you could pinpoint the exact day something went wrong, were perhaps his affair started, you couldn’t be sure 

You wanted to go to Winterfell University, it was far North in the continent, they say it was always winter there, cold, and wild, but you had seen pictures and had been there briefly on vacations with your family and you absolutely loved it, besides, it had a great program on what you wanted to study, you wanted an adventure, you wanted to completely change your surroundings, get out of your comfort zone, fly off the nest. 

But Aemond, your loving boyfriend and highschool sweetheart didn’t think so, you didn’t want to break your relationship, besides, Aemond’s family owned an airline, it would be a four hour journey to meet you there. But he insisted it was too far. You believed that on the one hand that a time apart could be good for you, you would miss him more, and therefore your reunions would be way more intense and hotter, but no.

An that time it made sense, you were drawing your future together, so he convinced you to go to Dragonstone University with him. The university of his dreams. 

It was completely his environment, the university specialized on what he wanted to study, diplomacy and political sciences, so for him it was a perfect fit. 

But not for you

All the alumni were perfect, serious, dressed like they all belonged to old money, just like Aemond, he was like a fish of the same pond, and you? were a fucking Alligator. You felt big, clumsy, unwanted. 

There wasn’t a career in design, like the one you wanted to follow, instead, there was plastic arts and photography, even architecture, so, in your first year, you made sure to take a couple of subjects leading in all of those directions. 

That was your first mistake.

You should have stayed in architecture, maybe, photography even, but instead, you decided to take a course with Professor Alys Rivers. In a plastic arts class

That was your second

Soon you became some sort of friends

She was tall, beautiful, dark long locks, big green eyes, the woman was stunning, young, just started teaching, and soon she became your mentor

You liked her 

She realized you were frustrated, and take special care in you, mentoring you, and keeping you close to her, she told you maybe you would be good at teaching, and maybe she wouldn’t have taken so long in deciding she wanted to teach

She was thirty five years old

But as Aemond was thriving, you were quickly losing yourself

Classes were boring, didn't raise your interest, the people here were strange, you were afraid to say you weren’t making any friends and not for the lack of trying

It got so bad you only went out with Aemond, who was even after a few months, the most popular guy in his class, it was becoming a very unbalanced relationship

You and Aemond had grown up together, you were neighbors with his nephews Jacaerys, Lucerys and joffrey, the first one being your classmate with Aemond

You played together as children, and in eleventh grade he had formerly asked you to date him, to be his girlfriend

Both your families were ecstatic

HIghschool sweethearts, you knew each other forever, you were going to marry and live  a perfect life, Aemond wanted to be a diplomat, and you were catching up to be his beautiful, smart, joyful trophy wife.

You didn’t see it that way then

You wanted to follow a design career, he didn’t take you seriously, but encouraged you

The problem is that Winterfell was too far away, so he convinced you to take architecture courses in his university, the best one in the country for what he wanted, the kind of university that grooms the men and women that were going to take over the world one day. It was huge, a big castle from five thousand years ago, the least you could do was enjoy the architecture. 

He was the perfect man, the perfect boyfriend, the one your parents would adore, and they did, he was chivalrous, patient, kind, generous…

You introduced him to your favorite teacher hen you ran into each other at the campus’ coffee shop

That was your third mistake, to invite Alys to join you both to take a cup of coffee, 

If you only payed attention to the looks they gave each other 

“So she is the teacher you have talked to me about”, Aemond said sheepishly, you only hummed as you kept reading a tome about a tyroshi painter who was the first in drawing the human body in all its forms, he was sort of famous, had lived more than a thousand years ago

“Yes, she is so sweet”, you whispered, “she is an artist, but so down to earth you know?”, you said without even thinking, “you can completely see the process behind her works, she is amazing”

Aemond had the luck (or money), to get single in the dorms, so he slept alone, so you could stay with him anytime you’d like, and you really liked it, your roommate was a bit mean.

And suddenly, Aemond has to study… a lot, you didn’t sleep with him anymore, even though your after class activities were as active as ever.

He was concentrating on his classes, (or that is what you thought), so you were going to start and do the same, and you tried, so so hard

But you were failing

You were already started the last month of the semester, and two of your teachers told you unceremoniously, that you were failing

BAD

You barely contained your tears, your lips were quivering and your nose tickled, and you went to the only person who could bring you comfort… one of the two… your professor Alys, whose class you had been getting pure A’s in

You never saw it coming

Her classroom was the last one in one of the towers of the incredible castle, and when you started climbing up the stairs, your stomach sank

It was late, the sun already hiding on the horizon, but you knew she was still in her atelier, and there she was

You could what the moans and whispers before you saw them, your cheeks heated and a sick curiosity made you sneak a peek inside the classroom

Oh how you wish you didn’t

There she was, your thirty five year-old teacher being pounded by your nineteen year old boyfriend 

You’d recognize that silver hair anywhere, everywhere

You wanted to throw up

Alys and Aemond, Aemond was fucking Alys

Together

Fucking

Sweating 

You just stood there

Your arm moved alone, as you raised your phone and took a picture of them, you could need it for later, but it wasn’t you who made that decision, it certainly wasn’t you

You were crying

You covered your mouth to sob outloud and for them to hear it, and you walked away, it was a miracle you managed to went down those treacherous steps and not smash your head, perhaps you would have preferred it, to smash your head against the stone floors, to turn off your head 

the tears stopped, and your feet moved on your own as they took you out of there, you didn’t want anyone to see you, you didn’t want to give this university more of you, not your tears, not more of your efforts, no nothing

You didn’t go to your room, you couldn’t, you know she was going to be there, Maris Baratheon, and you couldn’t face her, not now, not ever. 

You needed something else…

So you walked to the only bar near campus, many of your classmates would call it a “slum”, it wasn’t very popular with students, and that’s exactly what you needed.

You sat on a stool on the bar, and waited for the bartender to get to you, didn’t push him, just looked at the 

“looks like you need a drink”, you looked to the side to find a young guy, maybe short twenties, dark born hair, green eyes

“Don’t I?”, you mocked, smiling shyly, he was cute. You couldn’t help but notice his Winterfell University Jersey. He offered you a pint, and you took it gladly, you really needed it, “aren’t you a bit far from”, you pointed at his chest where the varsity letters told you where he was from, he only chuckled 

“They sent me in a… diplomatic mission”, he said with a mystery tone, and wiggling his eyebrows

“Are you recruiting students to go to the far North?”, you said, and if he said yes, you were going to beg him to take you with him

“Yes”

“Oh”, you seemed truly amused so he offered you his hand

“Ben Tallheart”, he whispered, and you shook his hand, giving him your name. “What do you know about the university anyways?”, he asked, taking a sip of his beer

“I wanted to apply there”, you answered, and he looked at you surprised, “I wanted to take the designer degree”

“Why didn’t you?”, he asked

“I decided to follow my boyfriend here, who I just found out is screwing my plastic arts teacher”, he spitted his beer 

“What?”, he asked, not knowing if to laugh or just be horrified

“Yep”, you said, taking a long sip of your own beer

“Uf, that must be tough”, speak of the devil, your phone started ringing, to no surprise, you discovered it was Aemond who was calling you, and fuck it hurt

“I’m gonna need something stronger than this”, you said to him, canceling the call, you just wouldn’t let it ring, you wanted him to realize you had hung up on him. Ben smiled, asking the bartender for two tequila shots

It was to pints later and five tequila shots, that you were laughing your face out, hugging him with one of your arms the shoulders of Ben

“I want to go to Winterfell, fuck this college”

“Yes, fuck it!”, he said, “this college sucks, filled with stuck ups…”

Your phone had ringed so much it vibrated off the table and it was currently missing from your earshot and eye shot 

You didn’t want to know either

“You think they’ll take me?”, you asked him with teary eyes

“Of course they will!”, he laughed

“Half semester?”, you asked 

“Of course!”

“Let’s fucking do it!”, you cheered, and everyone in the bar cheered with you, “I need to get the fuck outta here”, you said, and Ben laughed wholeheartedly.

The rest of the night was a blur, you knew Ben had walked with you back to campus and accompanied you to the door of your room

“My stuck up roommate is probably in”, you told him, and he nodded

“If you meant what you said”, he said, “and you are truly interested in coming to Winterfell University, here”, he passed you his presentation card, “give me a ring tomorrow”, you only nodded

“Thank you”, you whispered, and he only nodded, and left you.

You entered your room and there she was, your roommate, putting innumerable creams in her face 

“Eh, where have you been?”, oh that tone

“What?”, you asked, already coming down from your binge, “what do you care?”

“Ugh, you’re drunk!?”

“A little”, you grumbled, dropping to your bed

“Iu”, she whined, “Aemond was here you know, looking for you”, she told you, “you truly don’t deserve him, he was so concerned”

Oh poor Aemond, he couldn’t find you after he was fucking your plastic arts teacher, i bet that filthy motherfucker didn’t even shower before he came looking for you

“I bet”, you whispered, you then remembered you couldn’t find your phone, probably was still on the floor of that bar… Shit you were going to need it if you truly planned on contacting Ben for that transfer. 

But tonight you couldn’t do anything because you were practically kicked out of that bar, it had to be tomorrow, so, to the horror of your roommate, you just dozed off, dressed in the same clothes, reeking of bar and secondhand smoke. 

The next morning you woke up and thankfully, you were alone, your head hurt, but not as much as your heart.

Gods it hurt

You had burned the image of Aemond and Alys, fucking on top of her desk, and you couldn’t believe it. Aemond, your Aemond.

Your nose started to tickle, knowing you were about to cry you stood up, and searched for a change of clothes, you took your towel, and went straight for the bathroom, to wash your night off of your hair.

That morning you had classes with profes-… with that bitch Alys, so you didn’t even bother showing up. And since most of the college was in classes by now, you found yourself alone in the big bathroom.

You hadn't cried until now, but as you undressed yourself and got under the generous flow of water, something inside you just… unraveled. You started weeping uncontrollably, choking with your tears and the water, you hugged yourself under the falling boiling water seeking for comfort, but you couldn’t find any

Every breath you took hurt, deep within your chest, and you cried and cried until you felt your eyes sore

Your Aemond, your boyfriend, the one that gave you a promise ring… the one you knew since kindergarten, the one who was your first kiss, your first… everything! He was cheating on you with your own professor, Alys, the one that encouraged you and tried to nurture you, and guide you through this uncertainty in this part of your life. The one that you considered to be your only stone here besides your loving boyfriend

What was wrong with them? 

What was wrong with you? What did you do wrong? you chose school because of him, you changed careers, you endured a hell for him, you dressed how he liked it, to arranged your hair the way he liked it, you stopped doing things you enjoyed, stopped watching films that made you laugh because they were “childish”, you stopped listening to upbeat music because it wasn’t “proper”

Everything for him

You loved him with all your heart

You knew Friday morning he had this debate class, very important and he couldn’t miss it, or he would have been throwing your door down, so you took that as a sign, you needed to work fast and sneakily.

You needed to get out of here

You didn’t want to see him ever again

So you ran back to your room, got dressed quickly, and the first thing you did was run back to the bar, where the cleaning lady returned your phone to you.

You turned it on and to no surprise, you found thousands of texts and missed calls from Aemond

“love where are you?”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m coming to your dorm”

“Maris says you were not there, wtf? where are you?”

“You clearly don’t want to speak to me, but I just wanted to know you are ok”

“I don’t understand why you are doing this to me, did I do something wrong? Are you mad?”

“The least you could do is face me like an adult”

You rolled your eyes as you read the messages, he growing angrier, trying to turn this on you

But then he sent a video of a instagram story, of you and Ben hugging and laughing, taking tequila shots, it was uploaded by a classmate of Aemond who had clearly saw you

“I see that you were not alone, I can’t believe you would do this to me”, he wrote, and you chuckled darkly, the audacity of him had no limits whatsoever, “I just wanted to see you, and be with you, I wanted you to help me study for my finals, I know this few months had been hard on you, but I least I thought we had eachother”, but then it got worse, he send you a picture of a flower bouquet and a dark red box, “I wanted to gift you this, to show you how much I love you, and how much I was looking forward to a future with you”, you couldn’t kept walking, you had to sit down in a bench looking down at a cliff, you couldn’t even walk because of how much you were crying.

You couldn’t believe this

Why would he do this to you? you had given him your everything, you had sex almost every day, you complimented each other, you told each other everything, you were what you thought a power couple, only that he had all the power while you were his cheerleader…. 

This fucker, you wiped your tears angrily from your face. 

You were feeling a pain in your chest and you truly believed for a second you were having a heart attack, that you were positively going to die right here in this rusty bench, alone.

Your drunken thoughts from last night came rushing back in, of wanting to transfer to Winterfell University half semester.

It was an insane thought

But you also believe you couldn’t stay here, for what? this isn’t what you wanted, the only thing you thought you had was Aemond, who you just found out fucking YOUR teacher in the classroom. Staying here was insane, you had no friends, now you had no boyfriend, no career 

When you finally calmed down and walked back to your dorm room, Aemond was waiting for you right outside. 

And it's like all your convictions of leaving him and this school faltered just like that, just seeing him like that standing, his furrowed brow looking concerned for you. He was worried bout you, for a second you even believed that this was all a misunderstanding, they he couldn’t possibly do this to you 

Right then and there you just wanted to beg him to stop, to stop his affair and look you in the eye and promise you it was never going to happen again, that he loved you, that you were the one. That he was drunk, or she made him do it. She coerced him into it.

But then he looked at you, and his concern went to annoyance 

“Where have you been?”, he asked, walking towards you, “I was concerned for you!”, he immediately went to himself and what he was feeling, and you didn’t know where you got the strength from, but you looked at him, serious in the eye

“I failed color theory and anatomy drawing class”, you said, looking him in the eye, and the worst part is that you weren’t truly lying. His face softened as he looked at you with pity, “I feel like a massive failure, and I didn’t want to cry to you because you are already in the excellency program”, you whispered, looking at the ground in front of you

“So your solution was to go drink at a bar?”, he asked then, again, annoyed 

“I found this guy that was from Winterfell University, the one I wanted to go, and asked him about the programs…”, he sighed

“We talked about this”, he said, “that college is not even ranking…”

“I don’t care Aemond”, you whispered, “I just need to sleep, please, and you are going to be late”, you whispered, not daring to look him in the eye

You believed you knew his schedule, but apparently not, because when he was supposed to be in study group, he was fucking your teacher… 

“Are you going to be alright?”, he asked, “because I need my study partner”, he said, trying to sound hopeful. Yes you helped him study, you prepared flashcards for him, because you knew he had visual memory so he studied better with colors and images, so you prepared his study material and quizzed him

Maybe a couple of times with stripping quizzes… 

Oh how foolish you had been

“Yes Aem”, you said, managing to smile at him, “I just need some time”

“You have it love”, he whispered, “I love you”

“Love you”, you closed the door gently, leaving him outside, and threw yourself in the bed, hiding your face in the pillow and weeped a bit more.

Perhaps you should face Aemond, hear what he has to say, you wanted to believe it so badly, that there was something else to it, that perhaps…

You were a fool

They were fucking on top her desk… what else is there? he was cheating on you, she was violating hundreds of protocols, so was he

You dozed off to sleep

You woke up when your roommate entered the room

“You still drunk?”, she sneered

“No”, you whispered, “just tired”,  you didn’t even know why you bothered 

You have made a decision…

You were going to leave this place

You were going to leave and not tell a soul, not even Aemond, you were going to disappear from his life, from one hour to the next

You contacted Ben, and he told you everything you need to know, the semester was almost over, but the next one was just around the corner, and you had to do this, not even for spite, but because this is what you wanted from your future

So you did the only thing you could think off

So went to speak with the dean

She was an old family friend, she knew your parents and family since forever, she was very professional and never showed favoritism, but, you knew you were on her good side

“I want to know if I can transfer to another university”, you asked shakily, once she invited you to take a seat in in front of her desk, she looked at you puzzled

“Did something happen? the school year is not even over yet”, she said with her kind eyes, truly worried for you

“I realized I didn’t choose the university for the school path I wanted to take”, you tried to explain, but the sorrow in your face made her believe you were not being truthful, or that you weren’t telling her the truth, “I choose Dragonstone because of love”. you continued, “and now I don’t have that love, and… I want to study a design mayor”

“I see”, now she was more pleased, “Where would you like to go?”, she asked

“Winterfell University”, you said without even thinking about it, she only nodded

“I have a good friend up there”, she said, “so the change wouldn’t be the problem, you have the grades and the Maester exams scores in your favor, but, are you sure this is what you want?”, she asked.

“More than anything”, you said with a smile

Rhaenys Targaryen was the cousin of Aemond’s father, but they didn’t get along very well, it was messy, she was the Headmaster to Dragonstone University

“You will have to start in the middle of the year”, she warned, and you only nodded

“It’s what I want”, you assured her, she looked at you, analyzing you 

“Good, but first, I need you to finish the courses you are in”, your face said it all as it froze in place, looking at the face of that witch is the last thing you wanted to do

“That is expected of me”, you said, and smiled, she smiled back

“I’ll start with the paperwork, I have already received a letter of recommendation from Ben Tallheart, a representative of Winterfell university that is in the grounds this week”

“Yeah, I’ve met him”, you said smiling shyly

“Good luck finishing the rest of the courses”

Luck, you will need.

After chapter notes: look, if I stopped and wrote all the details of their relationship, this whole fic would be around them, so I narrated what happened instead of making the reader “live it”, get my meaning? This is about healing and seeing that there is something more than “that great love”, so I didn’t stop to focus on the toxic relationship with Aemond, so… One mroe chapter of reader's mess, and we are off to Winterfell! jeje

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[papiliomame]

Ectoberweek 2023 Day 29: Masquerade

SPOILER FOR A GLITCH IN TIME!

I recently rewatched the endings of the anime "Durarara!!" and I was thinking that so many versions of Danny popped up throughout the years, it is time for a Danno-tower.

I limited myself to 15 versions and a few other AUs sprinkled here and there because 1) this artwork is already long enough and 2) there are so many AUs and different designs I would need much more time to draw them all.

Here is a list of what AUs are shown here in no particular order and if possible where I could manage to pinpoint the origin of the AU:

Human Danny(Canon)

Ghost Danny(Canon)

End of AGIT Dan Phantom ( A Glitch in Time graphic novel)

Ghost King Danny

DCxDP ( I just put Batman in there as a representative for the whole DC cast)

Crypid/Monster Danny

Spider Danno (dannypocalypse)

Full Hazmat Danny (Mask by @in-the-ghost-mode)

Disabled AU ( I think this post by @madametamma made this AU more known in the phandom on tumblr but I personally encountered this AU in Everything was White by @lexosaurus which the release of the first chapter predates the post)

Little Baby Man (@tourettesdog)

Clown Danny (@letswonderspirit)

Coffee Ghost Danny (@typo-art)

Winged Danny(@the-stove-is-on-fire)

Merman Danny (not sure about this one, but my guess it's from the "Mermay" art event which occur on several social media sites?)

Lab rat Danny

Team Halloween (@the-stove-is-on-fire and @healthysharkshealthyocean fic Ghost in the NYC and the comics)

Shared Cujostody AU(@duchi-nesten)

Wes and Kyle Weston(not sure where the origin is but @lexosaurus made a whole dossier about him here, there are also infos how Kyle Weston came to be)

Dani Masters( a variation of this is the Cheese Melt AU by @lilianade-comics)

I hope those are the correct, for everything else I couldn't really find where they originated from.

This idea was original for the "ten years" prompt but after some work I conclude this fits more the "masquerade" prompt, because AUs are kind of a masquerade to the canon.

[watermel0ns-dumb-cringe]

Have the silly Swap/John Doe AU me and @marys-ghost have created !! (Yes I consider you a creator of it you help me with ideas /silly /pos)

Yes I'm aware that there's already some aus & designs (I saw like. one andy! Ezra/John design once) of this already but FUCK YOU (/lhj) THIS IS OUR TAKE ON IT !! (no hate to the other ones btw they're all silly)

Penny Lamb ; " The Guiltiest Girl In Town . "

&

[ █▅▅▅ █▅▅█ ] 'John Doe' ; " ██▅ █▅▅█ █▅▅▆▅▅▅ ▇▅▇ ▇▅ ▇▅▅▅ . "

Elaboration under the cut

small summary ! What if Ezra & Penny had swapped places? Well, here's our take on that concept!! :]

Both of them went to the fall fair with the choir, but Penny decided not to go on the Cyclone (as she has a fear of roller coasters), staying behind to try and win some prizes for her and her little brother while he went with the choir's family/friends(the cut characters). Penny tried winning a Raggedy Ann to match with the Raggedy Andy that Ezra had won, but ended up with the porcelain doll we're all familiar with instead. She's grown rather fond of the thing,, but yeah. Temporary split up, and then the Cyclone accident happened. Father Markus prevented Penny from seeing the aftermath of it all(or. he hoped he did,, up to interpretation!), and Ezra was left unidentified once Father Markus died from a heart attack. Penny's been searching everywhere top to bottom— but she knows Ezra's gone. Yet, she doesn't wanna believe it, and. Carries a lot. of regret & guilt. Nobody ever listened to her when she tried to identify him, due to her reputation as a "psycho cannibal kid that maimed a dude, born & raised from a place where all the adults were higher than freakin' skyscrapers." Plus her. Criminal record in general. Therefore, Ezra was labeled as John Doe.

While in limbo, he ain't doing too hot either, supposedly! Unlike most versions of Jane, John is purposefully pissed off. Knowing he's been fucked over entirely but can't completely pinpoint it. I'd like to think he gets along well with Astrid,, but he & Corey might have a rivalry similar to Penny & Ocean's. haters frfr/silly

Also yeah Ez gets Raggedy Andy head the Lamb siblings r so Ann & Andy coded /pos

So. the choir never die, but the cut characters do. Unfortunately includes Talia, as we need 6 people dead. 😭

Oh yeah Penny's also filled with spite & a sheer hatred for Uranium. She will throw hands or kill a man as seen here

still kinda in progress & I do have more info for it but that's the basic plot line !!

Definitely gonna draw them a lot they're silly/vvpos

Bonus

the fornication under consent of the king bit is replaced with John beatboxing/rapping. Trishna is terrified.

[pbandjesse]

I could feel better right now. My stomach hurts. I feel so dehydrated even though I keep sipping water. I just had kind of a rough day.

I didnt sleep amazing. I woke up a lot and had weird dreams. So when my alarm went off I told James I needed to sleep more and gave myself an extra hour. It helped a little but pretty quickly it would fade and I would feel bad again.

I tried really hard to be positive though. James left me breakfast so after I got dressed I warmed that up. And packed a little lunch. I had some juice but it didn't make me feel much better.

I drove to camp. And very quickly started to not feel well again. But it also makes me feel stupid. I don't want to have to keep asking to go home. I want to be able to work. But when there is nothing for me to do I just feel miserable.

There were positive things today though. It was my dad's birthday! He's 70! Incredible. And it's my parents' wedding anniversary! They got married on his birthday so that he wouldn't forget. And it's Friday the 13th. And the start of my 13th week of pregnancy! Which means baby is now a peach! Or a kiwi. Depends on the app you check.

I tried to let those things make myself feel better. But it was hard. I would had some things to do though which was something. I spent a few hours going through all the private schools in an hour radius and finding emails for history, science, and social studies teachers. This turned out to be a ton of work because not every school has a very good website design. It was hard to actually get emails. But I got a really good amount and I was happy about that.

I would also work on my alphabet drawing. I made files with every letter. So that's started at least. And I would send some emails and poke around online.

I had lunch around 11. I told everyone about our appointment yesterday and seeing baby flip around and stretch. It was nice to talk about it.

I wasn't feeling great though. And went up to arts and crafts to take some materials to put away. And spent a good amount of time laying in the hammock. I just wasn't feeling good. But I wanted to stay until at least 2. I laid in the hammock for a half hour. Just trying to feel better.

Eventually I went back to the office. And Heather had two tasks for me. Finally. And I would spend time researching private schools in York that we can email. And updating the email blast with the more accurate Native American Field trip stuff. But then I had stabbing pains in my boobies and was just like. Okay I'm done. And said goodbye.

I stopped at 711 and got a snack. And only got stuck in some traffic for a little bit. And was home right after 330.

When I got back here I was excited that my package had come. I purchased a baby carry wrap. Which not shocking is way to large on my torso but is perfect for James. I didn't realize that its flame pattern in one side and crane patterned on the other. Really cool.

I laid in bed for a long time. I didn't really leave bed for the whole evening. I would lay down and wait for James to come home. And when they did they had a gift for me too!

They got me the special Japanese Calico Critter seals!! I was so excited. They are so soft and I'm excited to add them to the doll house.

James would try on the carrier. And we found a tutorial video on how to wrap it but our guess ended up being correct. James would practice with a weighted plushie. I thought it was so sweet.

James made us dinner. I had a quesadilla and a hashbrown and a scrambled egg. Which was probably to much food because I feel all swollen now. But thankfully I didn't feel nauseous. Just swollen and not great. I'm glad that eating is easier. Everything doesn't go to a pinpoint and I think I'm going to black out. I am thankful for that.

I took a shower and washed my hair and gave mostly just been laying down. James has been hanging out with me. Sweetp too. He wants to lay on my stomach so much and we have to keep blocking him from doing so and he doesn't understand. My poor baby.

I am really hoping I can sleep easy and feel better tomorrow. We have the market all morning and then we are having dinner with Jules, that girl I met a few months back. I am hoping to just sleep all afternoon and be in a good mood for that.

I hope you all had a good day. Wish my dad a happy and healthy birthday. I love you all. Goodnight!!

[hybbart]

Do you have any tips on how you make your drawings look so fluid and so... shaped? If you get what I mean

I'm terrible with giving this sort of advice cause I'm not 100% sure myself. I'll try, but my general advice is know how your character would move and have references to compare and contrast. Especially for movement, analyzing individual frames of an animation or video can help a lot.

A lot of this is more just me working through my thought process as example than straight tips cause I have difficulty with just giving straight tips, sorry.

I suppose messing with your sketch a lot until things look Right and references, and just, generally thinking it through? What are the shapes you want to convey? How satisfying are each of these lines? Not on a composition level (I'm terrible with composition) but does it scratch that itch in your brain sort of thing.

Figuring out what shapes best convey what you want the character to convey is important. I wanted Tango to be sharp, a bit odd in proportions, so triangles worked. Satisfying curves and curls are also important to his character. The whole reason I wanted to draw him to begin with was for animation, and specifically a cartoonish style of animation, so I took a lot from simplified and abstract styles with clean silhouettes like Kim Possible, Gatchaman Crowds, and Birdy the Mighty.

His gloves and boots flow into his coveralls and the bands, pockets, and stitching on them are flat. The only thing that breaks it up is his vest It emphasizes his base shapes and lines I think, and makes it easier to animate him, makes him look more streamlined so it's easier to see him moving even when he isn't. He's also very exaggerated in his flow and movement. His tail helps a lot to in that regard, it's literaly a line so it's easy to use to express satisfying flow or movement like a snake or cat's tail even when still. The flames help set the type of jumpy, jerky, but still flowing movement he has and his hair is styled in a way to emphasize those qualities.

Compare that too Jimmy who is very long, stiff, and snappable. He's much more elongated and square, and is joints are more well defined and emphasized by the sleeves of his coat, form-fitting clothes, his body type being more like a stick figure, and the joints on his bird legs and knees being clear compared to how Tango's are hidden by the bagginess of his clothing. The only flowy part of him is his wings and hair and I - for lack of a better way to describe it - lower to poly count on both in his sheriff design to make him more angular. His face is also rounded though, unlike Tango's more pointed chinned heart-shape, to general make him cuter and dopier. I take all that into account when posing them, using straighter angles and lines for Jimmy. He's someone who folds, compared to Tango who is someone who curls.

I watch a lot of anime and cartoons with posing and linework I like, like heartcatch precure and Saint Seiya Omega's dynamic shots and updates to the 70s/80s shojo aesthetic. Looking at a lot of different art styles helps you hone in on what about them is appealing to you and making the shapes Work, even if you can't put it into words like me.

You can also, if you see something you like about someone else's style and you can't pinpoint what it is, trace it, break it down to your sketching steps, try and draw it yourself, then apply what you've figured out to your own sketch. Getting your hands on something yourself is usually gonna give you a lot more insight, at least that's how it is for me lol.

Studying real life posing will help you with basic structure that's the foundations and help you learn the basic Shapes of people you should always have in your mind, but I think studying other art will help a lot with the exaggeration, simplification, and abstraction needed to make people actually appealing to look at and satisfying to draw.

Honestly, also, save any lines you draw randomly that are pleasant, too. I have a whole folder of half-finished things and scribbles that I look through to help figure out what about them attracts me. It really helps you mentally break down your art and see it on a technical/abstract level rather than just a whole. Don't try to 'correct' a line that isn't 'right' on a technical level if it's satisfying. Drawings don't have to be realistic, unless that's what you're going for of course.

Also also also also also, study cloth and hair physics. Just, study cloth physics. It's THE most important thing to controlling a character's weight imo. You know how Kyoani and Ghibli like to emphasize emotions with floating hair and clothing reacting like cat's fur? Knowing how something is supposed to act is important to utilizing it, including breaking its rules for emphasis like that.

Um, I don't know if ANY of that actually helped, but I hope it did.

[lukosei]

I love your human puss in boots! what did you search for the fashion?

(IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO REPLY TO THIS :’’’’D my inbox always slips my mind omfg it’s so bad)

Thank you so much, and I’m so glad you asked!! The research portion was strenuous lol I even whipped out my copy of the “what people wore when” book to try and find the right silhouette. From his official design already I got some cues/insight on what I wanted to go for; I reeeeaaally wanted to get a good essence of historical accuracy down for this one (Bernadette Banner influence) Even though the film doesn’t really indicate EXACTLY when it takes place (cause let’s be real there’s such a variety of characters with different period clothing you can’t just pinpoint definitively), I just opted for the one that appealed to me most.

From his hat I primarily took inspo from mid 16th-17th century tercios and Spanish baroque clothing to establish the sorta vibe of the overall fit—the sleeves really excited me and were fun to draw lolol. Spanish musketeers were a big point of interest too! I remember finding this awesome photo of this model of one from 1604, and then also a few illustrations of captain Alatriste, and paintings by Andrey Shishkin (duelist, kavler, musketeer and pirate to be exact!) I had pulled up as well to guide me along.

Something I was initially worried about at first through going the route of the more elaborate “overcoat” situation overtop the poet shirt was whether it was too ‘‘‘refined’’’ for his character/personality as opposed to just having the white shirt, which also obviously works super well, but in reality it’s not so much of a status thing as opposed to more of a style statement this time haha. And mans for sure has an eye for appearance. One of my friends said if people ripped on him for it he’d just argue that it was cool (which I thought definitely checked out behaviour-wise), also he could literally just take it off and be left with the sole blouse variation if need be 😩 That’s basically the gist of it!

[beyblader-observations]

Okay, so let’s see if I can pinpoint why this manga had a big first impression on me.

- I saw vague posts about people liking it or being excited about the prospect of it, which rubbed off on me, and makes me feel like this series has more of an impact than the last few, which I didn’t see many people talk about

- I’m in a good mood right now, with my dreams and goals in mind, leaving me more open-minded to watching/reading something new than I would be if I was in a bad mood or stressed

- The art style and character designs are downright gorgeous! After the first series (Bakuten Shoot), the characters in the later ones didn’t have designs that really appealed to me.

- It feels like it focuses on the bladers rather than just the beyblades. I feel like Burst focused more on the Beyblades and didn’t flesh out the characters as much. That’s just my opinion based on the bits and pieces I saw.

- It feels like it has a good level of… tenseness? It starts out in the middle of a tournament, unlike Burst, where the characters are playing in school. And it feels more grounded than Metal Fight. I don’t yet know if it has fantasy elements, but I am hoping for some bit beasts and danger! I do love the overly dramatic elements in the original series, like Beyblades destroying the world, but it all depends on how they go about it. So I have to wait to see how this goes. I liked how Bakuten did the dramatic fantasy stuff, but I didn’t like how Metal Fight did it, and I can’t pinpoint exactly why. They just had different tones. Anyway, I can’t comment on how that will be in X yet.

- Not to stereotype, but it feels more for women like me… or maybe I should say more for anyone with my sensibilities. It focuses more on human emotion than on battles, and they make the characters very beautiful.

- I’m instantly in love with Kamen X/ Ex Kurosu! He’s like The Irresponsible Captain Tylor as a beautiful Beyblade boy! His carefree personality is the kind of contagious relaxed optimism that I want in my life. The message he gives to Bird is exactly what I need to hear right now, as I make an “effort” to progress my career as a freelance artist. I’ve been getting so stressed out about trying to figure out how to make a living with my art that I was having trouble drawing. I forgot to have fun with it. In order to be a successful artist, I need to love what I do. I need to enjoy the process and play and have fun with it, and then I will be able to draw pretty pictures that people love and succeed. If I think of it as just work, I’ll be like Bird without his Beyblade. I can’t lose that joy and playfulness. Kamen X reminded me of that. <3

- Bird is relatable because he’s been struggling with having fun with his passion from worrying too much about success.

- Kurosu’s hands are so gorgeously drawn, so when he’s wearing a mask, I keep gazing at them! They’re so manly, and they have so much personality!

- I had seen pictures of a blue haired boy on Twitter and saw tweets that he will be voiced by Soma Saito, so I had a hunch that I would like this character. I fell in love with Kamen X while he was wearing his helmet, and I was like “wow, I already have a favorite, and I haven’t even met the blue haired boy yet!” Well, it turns out it was him, so there’s no contest there. xD

[lady-zoras-artroom]

I know reading is hard for people, but I don't feel like doodling these scenarios just yet. So, I'm going to type them down and doodle them later when the motivation finally kicks in!

SSS FUTURE AU SENARIOS

One time, Sonar was caught hacking the Castle of Acorn's Security. Praised for the updates and pinpointing flaws in the system, but still grounded for a weekend.

Sombra ended up catching a cold, which surprised his mother and made his father panic (though he won't show it publicly). His friends Sonar and Soul come visit him to keep him company. (I actually wanna doodle this as an comic animatic thing at some point. So no more details till then.)

Historical Legendary Moments: Sonar and Sombra are obsessed by the stories they were told by their parents about their adventures. Soul is quiet at first, but he eventually opens up about how he feels about these Historic Events. (Again, actually wanna draw this at some point.)

The boys learn about the Gems of Unlimited Power that were used by both their parents and the Infamous Dr. Ivo Robotnik. The miracles and destruction these Gems have brought depending on the user intrigues them immensely. (May rough doodle this.)

Now, there are like, big projects I am planning to do with like, making an actual Story. One will involve Time Travel and the other will envolve Dimensional Travel featuring a new OC who is the child of another pairing I love!!

I already have her design together and I can't wait to post her!! For now, I need to get through the Time Travel bit! Don't worry, I will have rules so I don't make the same mistake as 06's writing. I'll also be using some ideas from DBZ as the Abridged version made it much more understandable.

This will also imclued revamping one particular character from a certain game called: Sonic Generations! I just need to ground the design for them as I have a few ideas how they could work!

I also have a fun What If I'm working on involving a certain Dark Alien with major changes and ideas I think could make their inclusion better imo.

Other than that, here we go! Something to appetize those who are interested in my lil AU! I don't need to, but I do feel a bit bad for not posting enough about this AU since a lot of people like it! Heck I love it too! It's fun!

I'll reblog this post or Link it for when I post the Senario Doodles. I've been learning not EVERYTHING needs to be perfect so, I gotta let myself loose and just get it all out there, rough or clean, monochrome or color, what ever works!

Anyway, thank you for the show of interest so far! May as well make this blog my Sonic Blog since that is obviously what people look for these days in this app. I'm cool with it!

Love you all!! 💕

[dojae-huh]

Dy will appear as an NCT representative on a tving show about kpop documentaries.

https://twitter.com/SM_NCT/status/1612309278660104192?t=m-dBzoG93HaWPxeCCJU7oA&s=19

But this fanart edit depicting nct ot23 has a glitch.

Where there are two dy in it. One of them is dy's face which is clearer in the center on ty body and the neck is look too long. and lucas whose head was replaced by TY. Even though dy is here as an NCT representative. Isn't tving going too far in editing it?TY as the center and leader does not need to be replaced.

I'm worried about Ty solo fans who are getting hot and again blaming dy as SM's favorite person. Even though dy may not have time to ask for things that don't make sense. Ty solo fans blamed him, considering he had played dramas on tving. And it will provoke other solo fans to blame dy. Yesterday even YT solo fans blamed SM for giving dy ost Japan even though there are still YT as real Japanese people in NCT. Then on live today, dy explained that the drama director himself had asked him to fill in the ost. Yt even corrected dy's pronunciation.

What do you think about it?

Link

Well, of course Doyoung has nothing to do with the poster for the show. It is not fanart, it is a paid work, an illustration. Have to say, a pretty ugly one, quickly made.

First of all, I suspect a filter was used. Artists can draw atop of a photograph, but they will simplify shadows and details differently. An artist/designer (more like it) was given a list of groups and a task to put them all on a poster with addition of fun elements (dolphins, mushrooms, etc). An editor looked at the ready poster, said "from NCT we interviewed only Doyoung, where is he? Put him in the centre". High chances the artist and the editor don't know NCT at all, let alone be able to recognise faces on a group image and pinpoint Taeyong. The artist was given a separate picture of Doyoung (or Googled) and glued it on a figure in the centre. Lucas either was censored (doubt) or Taeyong's pink head was moved to the right for composition (black bracketed by pink stands out better).

As for solo-fans. I would assume that any neo gets the heat, we are just noticing cases when it's about Doyoung. For example, Taeyong is accused of being the chosen one by SM as well.

Yuta isn't a good vocalist. His fans just don't have another card but racial.

I'm repeating myself, but the antis on Twitter are a minority. The majority of fans of each neo are not even present on Twitter.

[alairmena]

Good morning good people, time is up!

You haven't been able to write more characters than I am capable of drawing!

Thanks to everyone who was participating! I'd suggest y'all to follow my posts more closely for similar events in the future 👀😎 Read down for personalized notes!

Here comes every drawing in a separate picture, so that everyone can get their flashcard!

You may also notice that the two first characters were not submitted under this specific post. Actually they were submitted late for the original "group photo of our OCs" post, so they couldn't be added there, so I decided to include them here.

Because I don't leave anyone behind!

Therefore peeps, here you go!

For @foyle-writes-things:

You didn't provide a picture, but you did provide a thorough description, so this is how I imagine Razz! Just now I notice I forgot to color the eyes green, so let's imagine they are :)) I sure hope she's a white hat hacker cuz this mf looking very gloomy 😨

For @informedimagining:

I took a little creative liberty to add her a tan (since she's a country girl and does many outdoors activities) and make her hair originally brown then dyed to blonde, because it just made sense for the character at the moment! I hope you like it!

For @chaotictravelerrants:

Time Weilder seemed to me like a mythological creature/deity of some sorts, so I tried to make him somewhat etherical~

For @strawberryflavoredblade (so happy to be able to tag you T.T):

Here have your DILF OC Leonardo! I hope THIS captures him well 😌 I did notice that you mentioned that his hair should have some blonde strikes since he's aging, so let's say that he decided to look nice for a photo and went to dye his greying hairs so that he looks all nice and dandy (I guess he has enough money and free time for that!)

And unfortunately missed opportunity to draw the crime gloves, but alas, I wanted it to look like a nice photo that you can reuse, so, here you go!

For @renzaslasher:

I must say that your OCs have immaculate design! I loved drawing this poor boy! His face was the first thing I colored bcs it's so fucking fun lmao you need to see how the lineart layer of this one looked like 😂 I drew him with a weary emoji face (😩) because oh my god do I imagine him looking like this all the time having to deal with that goober

For @nightingaleflowlibrary:

I really hope i got colors right on this one (lmao what colors, she's basically black and white even here), but nonetheless, I tried to bring the prettiness of the original drawing to my style, idk if it translates well T.T I love her from your description 🥺

For @divine-proclamations-of-bs:

Come to think of it, this OC really encapsulates the vibe of your username 😁 You're the silly one that provided the hex codes for the hair color and the eyes!!! How dare you make me search for the W3Schools hex to rgb convertor 😤/j Jokes aside, I pinpointed the exact hexcodes for the colors and put them on your silly guy! The picture you provided made me laugh so much I just wish there was more content of this dude 😂😭

For @angelicanoi:

I wanna know more about him, he seems like a charming little dude 🥰 Start sharing more about your OCs on your blog, we wanna see it!

And I really suggest everyone who's been reading this far to check out other people's blogs and read about each other's OCs! Y'all are my worshipers community, start acting like it! (jk unless)

Happy writing everyone!

And why exactly are you still reading? The post is over. This is the ad break now.

Key's Unwilling Assistant - COMING SOON

So now that i have 36 followers (12x3 🤯) i just want to clarify something to people

In case you haven't noticed, I'm weird. I'm a weirdo. Have you ever seen me without my drawing pen in my hands? That's weird.

I may or may not jumpscare all of you with unexpected fanarts of your characters. Nobody's safe

(and if that's something you're into you may reblog this with more of your blorbos, lets see if you can write more than i can draw >:) )

[trickshottruths]

Birdbath

Robyn x Clover ( @courtclover ) x Qrow ( @littleblackqrow​ ) ( tw: nudity, suggestive > fade to black )

Clover shares a look with Robyn before a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, nodding his head at their silent agreement.

Memories flood - not so long ago and a lifetime all the same; prior to icy tundra stakeouts and the heat of more grimm on everyone’s heels; when Robyn had seen Clover’s best right before bringing out the worst in each other. It only made sense to revisit the experience with Qrow, make it even fuller, even better. He brought them back in balance, after all.

Qrow’s lightish red eyes flicked from Clover to Robyn, and back. Something had clearly passed between the two of them. Without knowing it, Qrow had clearly kicked something off by talking about his aching shoulders and sore knees.

Robyn had never failed to capture his attention, but moments like these never failed to make his heart flutter. A small, if skeptical smile appeared on his lips as Clover came back. That cocky look on his face was back, and Qrow thought that meant that this was their attempt at seducing him.

Then Clover said those magic words. Bath Time.

➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼

Qrow complains of old bones aching and Clover shares a look with Robyn before a small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, nodding his head at their silent agreement: Bath Time.

Keep him busy. Clover sneaks off to prepare a much needed relaxing soak. He draws hot water for a bath and he can do more than fill a tub with water. He searches in a cabinet beneath the bathroom sink for where he keeps his bath essentials; a couple small boxes for bath salts, oils scents, and bath petals and candles for a more tender setting.

All Clover needs is the salts and oil for the bath. A soak perfectly designed for relieving the tension in not so old bones and melting away knots. Clover waves his hand beneath the water to dissolve the minerals and he takes a moment to decide that maybe, a candle or two wouldn’t hurt. A few petals on the water wouldn’t hurt either.

Why not indulge? Robyn loves this kind of care and Qrow needs a little tender loving too. A few scattered candle on the ledge of the tub and the petals on the water can make a soak more intimate and it can also do more for the mind, relax and unwind heavy thoughts and stress.  

With a bathtub fully prepared, Clover returns to where he left Robyn and Qrow and when he finds them, he stands in the doorway smiling.

“Had I known this was going to be our evening, would have gone all the way and bought maybe bottles of cider.” Clover leans a shoulder onto the frame, chuckling.  

“Let’s go, you two. Bath time~”

➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼➼

The look Clover and Robyn share says she knows exactly what he has planned. The look Robyn shoots Qrow next suggests he has no idea.

Yet.

She feels warm inside before the water even hits her skin. Memories flood instead - not so long ago and a lifetime all the same; prior to icy tundra stakeouts and the heat of more grimm on everyone’s heels; when Robyn had seen Clover’s best right before bringing out the worst in each other.

It only made sense to revisit the experience with Qrow, make it even fuller, even better. He brought them back in balance, after all.

Qrow has seen soft violet eyes full of anger, seriousness, concern, but perhaps never the spark of childish joy which ignites in the way she smiles at him. Not one for keeping secrets, but one most certainly tucks into the surface of a pretty, glowing face which promises to reveal everything in good time.

“Been a rough week, huh?” She stretches arms over her head and rolls her head around her neck. An expert at chit-chat and a smile for stalling, Robyn is. Riling others up, too. Ruffling feathers, one might say. Top it off with knowing a few tricks to get to Qrow, specifically, and she obliges Clover’s unspoken instruction with pinpoint accuracy. She leans in close, knocking up shoulder to shoulder and leans her head into the curve of it, hand brushing across his chest and back to rest in a light embrace around him, grinning all the while.

“Could really use some RnR around here.” Body language enacts oh-so sultry while her voice remains nonchalant. Sneaky, sneaky but she doesn’t even hide it, aiming to pique Qrow’s curiosity and capture his attention from the rest of the world.

Clover returns as the perfectly smug counterpart to her goading, and an affectionate gaze welcomes him back.

“Well, how about that. He’s so good at knowing what we need, isn’t he?” she praises, speaking to Qrow while keeping her eyes still locked with Clover’s. As if she didn’t know.

Only Robyn could be so perfectly honest in insincerity. Intentions loud and clear even through the trickery of words in execution.

“Come on!” the air of an act finally falls, and so do her hands, but one catches Qrow’s on the way down to tug him along in excitement, “You’re going to love this.”

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Qrow’s lightish red eyes flicked from Clover to Robyn, and back. Something had clearly passed between the two of them. His eyebrow shot up when Clover left the room, and its twin joined it up in his hair when Robyn started acting sultry. Without knowing it, Qrow had clearly kicked something off by talking about his aching shoulders and sore knees.

“You’re sure being cute this evening.” he remarked, melting into her touches. Robyn had never failed to capture his attention, but moments like these never failed to make his heart flutter. A small, if skeptical smile appeared on his lips as Clover came back. That cocky look on his face was back, and Qrow thought that meant that this was their attempt at seducing him.

Then Clover said those magic words. Bath Time.

Qrow’s eyes lit up and he let himself be dragged towards the bathroom. Scented bath oils hit his nostrils and Qrow gasped when he saw first the size of the tub and the flower petals floating in it. “Holy shit.” he said in an embarrassingly strained voice, and his face broke out into a huge grin.

He was already reaching for his shirt when he glanced at his partners. “You two coming in as well?” Qrow had barely kicked his pants off, and had nearly fallen face first into the tub, but he hardly cared. This was his first real bath since being in Atlas (stupid military issue quarters).

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“It’s not a pool, Qrow!” Clover lets out a warm laugh at Qrow’s enthusiasm. At his question, Clover turns his gaze to Robyn and he smiles at her.

“After you~” He singsongs. In the meantime, Clover searches once more through the cabinet beneath the bathroom sink and he looks for a gentle washcloth and a loofah.

“I’ll join you in a second,” he explains as he kneels down before the tub.

“Let me take care of you. Both of you.”

Clover dips the cloth into the water and he begins by washing the ball of Qrow’s shoulder, careful yet delicate. His teal eyes are full with fondness and the cloth circles over skin to sooth and ease and adore. Clover finishes washing Qrow’s back with a kiss to the huntsman’s cheek before he adores Robyn the same.

Clover lifts Robyn’s arm out the warm and he begins with the ball of her wrist, guiding the cloth up her forearm. He smiles warmly as he works, enjoying this as much as they are.

He loves them fully. He loves Bath Time not just for the soak, but the chance to care for them, to love Robyn and Qrow with more than just words and promises. Clover kisses Robyn’s cheek when he finishes and he wrings the cloth, smiling wide.

“Room for one more?”

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If Robyn were a lesser woman, if she didn’t know who really held the cards in this particular game in the first place, she might have played a little more rival to Clover, and felt a loss that his face and few words could make Qrow’s face light more than her hands had.

But the truth is, she’s invited and this is nowhere near a competition, and she’s beaming just as brightly just to see her boys so excited, and laughs with the carryover of energy.

Robyn takes it slower, pulling her clothes off at an even pace as she steps towards the bath, letting the ambiance surround her and the scents draw her senses. She picks Qrow’s outfit up from its scattered mess, too, and sets them all aside.

Blonde hair freed from its tie falls around tawny shoulders in messy layers, and feet find their way into soothing, warm water, followed by legs until she’s shoulder deep, and she settles just in time to see the delightful show Clover’s caring hands working over Qrow’s beautifully naked sinew and scars. She soaks in the oils, sighs out her worries, and lets violet eyes follow along with the cloth, with their gazes, and thinks this is what the rest of the world should be like.

Working things out, finding a balance, and taking care of one another. Qrow and Clover are the epitome of it, and she would happily watch them all day, but she doesn’t have to just watch.

Clover comes to her next, sets those strong, skilled hands onto her skin, and offers looks of genuine care and happiness from green eyes, and she falls in love with him all over again in the moments, when he’s being his truest self, in service.

She indulges, herself and Clover at the same time. seeking her own pleasure meant finding it in him, and that made him happy in return, and she knows this, so she opens up her fingers, her arm, her chest, any part of her he likes. Nothing to hide, nothing unavailable to him, nothing denied of herself.

not anymore.

he seals his tenderness with a kiss, and she flushes from more than just the steam rising from the bath. she has missed this.

“I love you,” she coos before he pulls away too far. And to answer his question, she simply scoots further in towards Qrow, sliding up against him just as before, but this time flesh to flesh and squeaky clean, to make plenty of space for Clover to join them.

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“Oh no, pruney fingers, the horror.” Qrow couldnt hide the grin on his face when he realized that Robyn had left him everything above Clover’s waistline. She knew what she was doing.

Though he was reluctant to remove Clover’s hand from the back of his head, that hand was where Qrow intended to start his wash. He took his time; Qrow had only rarely gotten an opportunity like this one to actually bathe with and take care of his partners. His eyes couldnt decide what he wanted to watch more while he worked his way up one of Clover’s arms.

On one hand, there was Robyn, bobbing along barely above the surface, practically glowing as she worked. On the other, there was Clover’s face, relaxed and at peace, which was a sight to behold in itself.

Qrow was very methodical as he worked, up one arm, linger a little with Clover’s neck and behind his ears, down the other arm, and Clover’s back. He made sure to dip into every crevasse of muscle, and appreciate every inch of Clover he could reach.

He waited until the last bit for Clover’s abs and chest, however. Qrow wanted to make sure he got the job done right, just in case he got distracted. Robyn knew what she was doing.

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Clover loves to please his partners. He’s prepared a bath for his lovers and washed their bodies. His heart is singing and now Clover can soak in the warm water too and let his soul ease. He keeps his eyes closed as Robyn moves, thinking she’s finding a more comfortable position, but the lather of the cloth against Clover’s skin surprises him and he lifts his head.

“Hey, what are you? But I thought?”

Clover looks between the two of them but lingers on Robyn a moment, looking betrayed. He thought they were working together initially to indulge Qrow, but it seems Robyn has changed allies. Of course. These birds are always working together against Clover, but for once, he’s happy about it. A smile spreads across Clover’s face and he lays his head back down again, green eyes fluttering closed.

“Hmm~” He hums as he relaxes. Brothers, this feels so good.

Clover soon opens his eyes and he watches Qrow work a moment, loving how he’s enjoying himself. Clover’s smile widen into a smirk with an idea. He sits up and touches Qrow’s chin, turning it before he kisses Qrow’s lips slowly. To savor their warmth. To steal his breath. To turn him to his side.  

“Songbird, I think you missed a spot.” Clover smooths his thumb over Qrow’s bottom lip and he places a kiss to his jawline. He takes Qrow’s hand and guides it to cup the toned muscle of his chest once more. Without the cloth.

“You too, Prettybird.” Clover looks to Robyn now, his smirk still glowing.

Need me to show you too? is left unsaid, but if cunning smiles could speak.

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It takes a second, but Qrow catches on. It takes a minute, but Clover gives in. This is how it’s meant to be. They can read each other, work with each other, nothing hidden from each other - at least, not for long. The only cunning they use is for the benefit of them all.

She loves the flesh beneath her fingers and how it relaxes into her warm touch. She loves to watch Qrow’s eyes heat with focus and desire, giving Clover every ounce of attention and appreciation that torso of his called for. It turns to a kiss and Robyn’s breath hitches, her lips tingle, right along with. She loves to watch them.

The steam in this room is not longer only from the water. No, it rises in vapors from the skin of hot bodies and the tension between them.

Just before she forgets herself, Clover fixes his gaze and sweet talking tongue back to her. He’s not done with her, and she’s not done with him.

They’re not done with him. In each itineration of the pronouns.

“Mmm~” cunning is not the word for Robyn’s smile, more coy.

Especially when it shifts again to Qrow, with a wicked quirk at the corner, as her hands fulfill the request of squeezing soap-less strokes up the inside of Clover’s thighs, reaching under and around to palm his ass, then come forward again, nails grazing to cut through water against the dip in his groin.

The message to Qrow still the same, though the mission a little different, now - meet me in the middle.

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Fade to black

[sugarylawliet]

May I pretty please have a nsfw Light x Fem!Reader fic where Light is horny af and tries to seduce the reader but since it’s so rare to see Light needy like that, the reader decides to use this and pretends like she’s busy etc. and drives Light crazy af which leads to angry Dom!Light sex ;)

WHEW i got outta breath just reading this req-

warnings: nsfw/smut, dom! light, degradation with slight praise, this one has more plot than usual i think

taglist: @ygm1slt

"Y/N, do you mind?"

You glanced up from the dozens of tan manilla folders you held in your hand, spread out like a hand of playing cards, each one filled with documents upon documents about the legend you and your coworkers were chasing. The stacks of papers felt like the scribblings of a child in your hand; useless to you, because you knew who Kira was already. Hidden in plain sight, he was the man who had just called your name from the front of the room where he sat, beckoning for you to come near.

You let out a long sigh under your breath, slowly placing the papers onto the desk you stood in front of. You and Light were not dating, no, in fact you could barely stand to be in the same room as the man. His aura was suffocating, despite the large and sprawling rooms of the headquarters building, you could always pinpoint just where Light was; you could feel his arrogant energy wafting off of him, making it clear who the superior one was in the room. It was asphyxiating, and his words were even worse. Everytime he called you to come closer to him, your heart skipped a beat- and though you were sure it was from disgust, you never denied any of his requests. Your love-hate relationship with him only made your interactions more intoxicating. You weren’t gonna deny yourself the excitement.

Your footsteps echo through the almost empty room as you walked towards Light, the only other people at the task force at the moment being L, Matsuda, and Soichiro, all of whom were working together on the right side of the room, their focus on L’s computer.

“What is it?” You ask as you approach Light, stopping next to him.

“I’d like to know your thoughts on this, a second opinion would be helpful.” He gestures towards his computer screen, which was packed with data you could barely read. As you attempt to decipher the text, Light places his hand on your upper thigh, gripping it horizontally. You hold back a gasp, trying not to draw attention to yourself. Light stares at you, your eyes unwavering from the screen in front of you.

“Umm, well, it’s....”

Light’s hand slides up your thigh, his fingers inching up your skirt and brushing the fabric of your panties. He moves his fingers slightly with the slowness of a lover brushing their thumb up and down your hand as you hold theirs. Your breath stutters as you found yourself craving a harder touch from the man you thought you hated.

You break your gaze from the computer screen and glance at Light- his eyebrows were turned downwards, and the image gave you an idea. You grab Light’s hand, peeling it from your leg and dropping it into his lap. “Actually, Light. I’m kind of busy with these documents right now, sorry.” You smile, walking away and returning to your spot at the other table.

You sort through the papers, your mind off of Light before you feel the vibration of your phone from the table. You check to make sure L wasn’t looking before checking your phone, opening the message notification.

Light Y.

brat.

You glance over your shoulder before typing a quick response.

                                                                                                                        Y/N

                            i’m sure i don’t know what you mean.

You place down your phone screen-first on the table and turn your ringer off, not bothering to see whatever quip Light would respond with. You catch him rolling his eyes out of the corner of your view before returning to his work. He places a hand over his mouth and throws one of his legs over the other, crossing them. You smirk to yourself.

This was a back and forth you and Light Yagami often shared ever since you joined the Japanese Task Force. Light, the esteemed man he is, never places doubt in his ability not only to seduce women, but to get what he wants, whatever that may be; in this case, it was you. You, on the other hand, prided yourself on being strong- a stubborn person with an unwavering will, someone who could out-work and out-show the men who thought they were better than you. Often you forgot the end goals of your little adventures to prove yourself better than, getting caught up in the chase of it all. You and Light’s relationship was a quite hectic blend of both of your guys’ stubborn behavioral habits, and neither of you would settle for losing.

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

“Light-kun, it’s getting quite late. You two aren’t tired?” L asks, glancing at you and Light, as the three of you were the only ones remaining in the main area of task force headquarters. Everyone else had either gone home or gone to their designated rooms in the building.

“No, There’s a lot of work to be done so I’m fine with sacrificing a little sleep.” Light glances at you briefly. You knew he was expecting to be left alone with you, but you decide to push the envelope a little further. You refused to give into him; at this point, your ego and desire to not lose rivaled his.

“Actually, Ryuzaki, you’re right. I’m gonna head to bed.” You wave goodnight to the men, sending Light an innocent smile as you walk upstairs to your room. 

You made yourself comfortable in your bed, as surprisingly Light had taken several hours to come upstairs- he didn’t want to chase after you, you assumed. Though, you could see how desperate he was through his facade.

Eventually, though, the door to your room opens with a creek, as Light steps his way inside and locks it behind him.

“Oh, hi Light. Do you need something?”

“Don’t play stupid.” Light runs his fingers through his caramel hair, frustrated. He walks over to where you sat on the edge of the bed, taking your jaw in his tight grip and forcing you to look at him.

“What was that all about, huh?” He places his hand on your leg, sliding further and further upwards as he speaks. “Teasing me as if you have the right. Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? I don’t appreciate the bratty behavior.” His fingers return to the position they were earlier, softly brushing up and down over your clothed heat. You bite your lip, holding back a moan; you weren’t going to give into him this easily. No, this was a competition for pride, and you were determined to win.

“Actually, Light,” You push his hands away from you, standing up, “I’ve had quite a long day. I’m gonna go get some rest, maybe you should too?” You remark before leaving, shutting the door behind you and finding another room to sleep in. You were going to win.

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

“Are you guys coming with?”

You stand in the main hub of task force headquarters near Light, as L was on a seperate floor working and the rest of the task force was getting ready to leave for lunch.

“No, sorry, I wanna finish this work as soon as possible. But Matsuda, do you mind bringing Y/N and I something back?”

You whip your head towards him with a sour look as he volunteered you to stay with him- alone.

“Sure, text me what you want!” Matsuda exclaims cheerfully before leaving with the other detectives. 

The loud slam of the door echoing through the large half-vacant room did not draw your attention away from your work, as you were determined to remain focused.

“You know, Y/N,” Light stands up from his chair, approaching you from behind where you sat. You take in a breath, preparing yourself for the antics he was about to pull.

“You never did apologize to me.” He places his long slender hands on your shoulders from behind, slowly rubbing up and down.

“Apologize? What do I need to apologize for?”

“For being a fucking brat.”

Light abruptly grabs the sides of the chair and spins you around to face him, his nose almost poking yours and his hot breath tickling your face, flushing your cheeks red. You take the opportunity of your close proximity to lock eyes with him, slightly shaking your head no, your confidence unbreaking. 

With haste, Light knots a finger in your hair and roughly pulls you towards the nearest table, shoving you chest-first into it. He smacks your ass, earning a yelp from you. “How hard is it to follow fucking instructions? God, is your ego that big?”

He creeps his hand up your legs, dipping under your skirt and pulling your panties down to pool around your ankles. He runs his fingers up your slit, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Just give into me...”

You shake your head as best you can with Light still gripping the roots of your hair and whine out a small “Nuh-uh.”

He dips two fingers inside you, curling his fingers upwords and making a beckoning motion inside of you. Quickly, he pulls his digits out, extending his hand to force you to suck on them. “Hmm, taste all that? It sure looks like you want to give into me...”

You pitifully whine around his fingers, pushing your backside to press against the bulge forming in his pants, asking for more.

“See? I knew you were needy for me.” He removes his fingers from your mouth and slips them back into your cunt, pumping in and out at a steady pace before adding a third finger. You pathetically squirm under his methodical movements; he was too good at this. You try to bite back your moans to save your confidence, but soon fail as Light scissors his fingers inside of you.

“Mm, I love the sounds you make, you sound like such a slut.”

Light increases his pace and depth, curling his fingers against your walls until his fingers were no longer visible. His manipulation of your senses drew your orgasam out quicker than you expected, causing you to clench against his digits. Light, sensing this, promptly removes his fingers from you, causing you to whine.

“Light...”

“What, you think I’m gonna let you finish?” He chuckles leaning down to speak in your ear, “Just say you’re sorry, Y/N. It’s not that hard, really.”

“I have nothing to apologize for.” You pant. 

He smacks your backside again, the hand-print stinging with the frustration building up inside the man. “Don’t talk back to me, brat. You know, you’re really being difficult and I don’t appreciate it. Maybe I should just leave you here...” He removes his grip from you and begins to walk away, and you’ve never felt more alone without your arch enemy.

“No, Light...” You bite your lip as you call him, the swing to your ego panging your chest.

“Hm, what’s that?”

“Light...” You look away, feeling embarrassment bubble inside your stomach.

“You only get what you beg for, Y/N. I can’t hear you...” He walks closer to you, a smirk forming on his lips as he backs you against the table, “C’mon, pet. Beg for me to fuck you, I know you want to.” He places a soft touch on your clit, rubbing it slowly in circles.

Against everything you’ve been fighting for this whole time, against your pride, your body was aching and obeyed, “Light, Kira, I need you so badly, please, please just fuck me already.”

“Hm, I don’t know. Are you sorry?”

“Yes, yes, I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” His tone grows more stern.

“For being a brat, for teasing you, for not listening to you, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, just please, touch me....”

Light hums in appreciation as he unbuckles his belt, tossing it on the floor and pulling himself out of his tan pants, “Mm, that’s Kira’s good girl, I knew you’d come around.” He pumps himself a few times, sliding the head of his cock up and down your slit, pushing slightly in every now and again just to evoke a mewl from you.

A slew of “please”s and begging whines spilled from your lips like a desperate prayer as Light continued his torturous teasing.

“You’re nothing but Kira’s pet, right?”

You nod rapidly.

“And you’d do anything for me? You’re mine, mine to use how I please and dispose of? Mine to use as a fucktoy?”

You nod again without question.

“Good, that’s what I like to hear.” Light rewards you, finally pushing himself inside of you after what felt like an eternity. He rocks his hips to meet yours as he stretches your walls out, the moans from both of you mixing in the echoey room.

“God, Y/N, you feel so good. All this time I’ve waited...”

“Fuck, Kira,” You cry, wrapping your legs around Light’s waist, pulling him as close as possible. Your fingers curl into the hard, cold desk beneath you in an attempt to grapple with the amount of stimulation you were receiving.

His forehead came to rest on yours as he pounded into you relentlessly, “God, you’re such a good little slut for me Y/N, yeah? Nothing but a dirty fucking slut for my cock, fuck you take me so well.”

“Light, I’m gonna cum...” Your loud moans were hiccuped by the rhythm of Light rocking into you.

“Cum for me Y/N, cum all over my cock like the slut you are, make a mess so everyone knows how good I make you feel, how you’re mine and only mine to use for my pleasure.”

The harsh words that tickled your face encouraged your on-coming orgasam as you soon came around Light. He continued to thrust into you until he threw his head back with a groan, cumming inside of you.

Light pulled himself out and tucked himself back into his pants, tidying up his appearance with still labored breath. “Don’t even bother to clean up,” He head tired at the sticky liquid that was leaking down your legs and dampening the table beneath you, “Everyone knows you’re just a slut anyways, might as well let them know you’re my slut.” He winks before leaving the main room, walking off into a seperate hallway presumably to collect himself.

You stood up from the table, still panting. The fight was over, you had lost. Lost. Lost to the man who always seemed to win despite being plagued by misfortune. You huff, pulling your clothes back on and allowing the sting of losing your pride battle with Light Yagami to overpower the pain you felt in your lower half.

[chickensarentcheap]

A Steve and Maizie drabble for @youflickedtooharddamnit.  Based on the prompt of rubbing comforting circles into someone’s skin.

Not my best work! I’m not used to writing short stuff lol.  But I hope you enjoy it :D 

I will also tag:  @tragiclyhip, @secretaryunpaid, @residentdormouse, @ninjasawakenedmystar, @munstysmind, @mostly-marvel-musings, @presidentlokis-hornyhelmet, @starryeyes2000​

*****

It’s been hours since any real progress.  No increase in contractions,  no dilation past six centimetres.  Under normal circumstances, a woman would have been released some time ago; things allowed to naturally unfold in the comforts of her own home.   But issues with mom and baby both remain;  fluctuations from extremely low to terrifying high heart rates that require constant monitoring and supervision.    So here he  remains;  parked in an uncomfortable bedside chair as Maizie attempts to rest.   Her weary body a playground for various medical equipment;  a fetal monitor attached to her stomach,  sensors continuously monitoring her heart rate and blood pressure,  IV lines delivering -through the needling piercing the top of her right hand- a mixture of  much needed hydration and a medication designed to speed up the labour process.  And while seeing her so ill and vulnerable has been extremely difficult, he’s refused to leave her side or even close his eyes;  brushing off the suggestions of food and drink or even a couple hours of sleep from well meaning nurses.

He can’t remember a time when  he’s felt this helpless.  Unable to render any sort of aid or comfort;  able to do little more than fetch glasses of ice water and wish for the difficulties to pass and the rest of the experience to go smoothly.  It’s the most worried and scared he’s ever been in his life. At least while NOT  under heavy doses of Phobica or Darkenfloxx.   His wife and son  both under enormous amounts of stress;  the latter’s life hanging more precariously in the balance.   It had taken him months to be fully accepting of welcoming a child into the world;  worried that his lack of positive experience to draw on would make him a horrible father.  He would try of course;  somehow manage to put his family above his work and give the attention and love that both mother and baby deserve.  The news that she’d been expecting hitting him hard and fast;  returning from the ‘dead’ after a three month sabbatical only to find out that he was going to be a father.  Lending a hand in creating a life; an innocent human being that had been conceived during the final weeks at Spiderhead; pinpointed to either the night before or the day that Heather had taken her own life.    

It scares him.   Fatherhood.   The realization that someone completely depends on him for even the most basic of needs.   The thought of having a little one in the house;  the incessant crying and the middle of the night feedings and the near constant attention it requires.   Perhaps he’s too selfish to successfully raise a child of his own;  unable to commit the  same kind of effort and passion and energy that he does into his work.   It still remains the most important thing of course; unable to provide for his wife and his child if he doesn’t devote everything he has into his science and his career.  And where would that leave them?  Separated from the lifestyle that they deserve;  a beautiful home in an idyllic setting and everything that could ever want and need at their fingertips. While not ideal,  It’s a necessity; putting his work above everything else.  One that his wife and eventually his children will become accepting and welcoming of.

Maizie mumbles in her sleep and then issues a long, drawn out sigh;  her eyes flickering open and a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth when she sees him sitting there. 

Reaching out, he places a hand on the top of her head and then leans forward in his chair and presses a kiss to her brow.  “How are you feeling? Are you okay?  Any pain?”

She shakes her head.  “I’m feeling alright.  I guess.  Just tired.  Really, really, REALLY tired.”

“You need to get as much rest as you can.   It’s going to be a long day.  I know this isn’t what you wanted.  Things going wrong.  But you’re in the best possible place, being taken care of by the best possible people. I made sure of that.”

Tears sparkle in her eyes. “It feels like he’s never going to come out. Like he’s going to be stuck in there forever.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen.  It’s scientifically impossible. For him to stay in there.”

“I just want everything to be okay.   I don’t want anything happening to him.   Everything’s gone so well until now. I don’t understand.  I did everything right. I…”

“It’s nothing you did. Or didn’t do.  These things happen, Maize. All the time.  Lots of women have perfectly healthy pregnancies and then they get to the part and complications arise.  But you’re doing fine.  And so he is.  You’re in good hands.”

“I’m scared.   I just want him to be alright.  I just want him out of there.  I just want to hold him and kiss him and…”

“And you WILL. I promise.  We’re past the worst of it. I’m sure of it.  It’s a good sign, yeah? That you were able to sleep.”

“I suppose. You’ve been here all this time?”

“Of course.”  He pecks her lips.  “Where else would I be?”

She reaches for his hand. “Don’t leave, okay? Just stay. I need you to stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures her, and laces his fingers with hers;  pressing a kiss to each knuckle before setting their joined hands on the mattress.   His gaze never leaving hers as the pad of his thumb rubs slow, comforting circles on the inside of her wrist.