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wttcsms · 6 months ago

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and so a touch that was my birth right became foreign, satoru gojo

with hands blessed with the technique that enables you to feel the most likely future for the person you're touching, it's easy to see why you don't want to touch satoru when he comes back. even if he doesn't know his own ending, all he knows is that he would like to feel your touch even if it's for the last time. so you let him. (wc 1k) content contains satoru gojo x reader, slight angst, allusions to jjk 261 leak, some fluff, possible hurt/(no) comfort (depending on how you look at it), humanizing gojo

“You’re worried about me,” he rolls over in bed, bluer-than-blue eyes staring into yours. “It’s written all over your face.”

“No, I’m not. This is my ‘you’re hogging all the blankets’ face.” You retort, yanking the bedsheets closer to you. You try to make yourself more comfortable, but it’s no use — you only sleep well when you’re snuggled up by Satoru’s side, but the idea of touching him, the effects of what will happen when you do, serves as a good enough deterrent.

“No. It’s your ‘I suck at keeping a secret’ face.”

“Well, that face and my ‘worried about you’ face are two entirely different expressions. So, even if you’re right, you’re still wrong.”

Usually, he would laugh at your logic. Nowadays, there’s not much laughter to spare. Just intense gazes that cut you to the bone, deep enough to leave a mark on your soul, yet soft enough for you to momentarily forget the pain that comes with it. You like to make comments about his eyes; not his Six Eyes, but his. The ones that are uniquely and wholly his own. You want to drown into his eyes, the prettiest, rarest shade of blue that only he could pull off. You know he knows that you think this, which is precisely why you have no issue with telling him he needs to get brown contacts for bedtime because his irises practically glow in the dark.

Our bodies are built by memories. It’s why your fingers twitch, confused as to why Satoru is so close to you, close enough to touch, and yet, there’s still a distance between you two. Your hands know him well — know him the best of all. Your fingers, the ones that have ran through his hair so many times before, may share the same color as many other members of his clan but the stubbornness of his hair is all his own. You would tease him; tell him that his hair is just like him: annoying, with its own mind, its own will. His hair is coarser than it looks, and sometimes, you can still feel remnants of hardened hair gel when he gets too tired to wash it all off properly. (On those nights, you’ll wash it off for him.)

The sharpness of his cheekbones have been traced by the tips of your fingers. Gaunt when he’s so laser focused on work, but full when he’s shoveling food into his mouth. You like the sight of Satoru gorging himself on daifuku; so rarely does he give into greed, and there’s a boyish glow to him when he’s unable to speak because of the sheer amount of mochi he has in his mouth, looking annoyingly cute with his chipmunk cheeks.

“You don’t want to touch me because you’re scared.” Of course, Satoru doesn’t shy away from confrontation. You suppose it’s for the best. The fact that he let you go this long without him calling you out on your behavior isn’t surprising, though. He always puts the feelings of others before his own.

“Is it that obvious?”

Satoru doesn’t need the Six Eyes to see through you. He just needs to use his own.

“Did you really think it wasn’t?” is what he says.

“I just— Knowing the future is worse than the not-knowing.” Your voice cracks during the explanation, but he doesn’t comment yet. He waits patiently for you to continue, even though you already had this breakdown in front of him before, a lifetime ago. When the two of you were just students and he sneakily pulled off your gloves and placed his hand around yours. Back then, his touch had been brimming with life. It had shocked your system, your soul. Every touch exchanged from him since then had felt the same, more or less.

You’re worried that you won’t get that familiar feeling this time around.

“Because not-knowing leaves space for hoping.” He finishes for you. You blink, and suddenly he’s closer, and you want to cry. You want him to be this close to you forever, and you know that that is one future path that not even the strings of fate will entertain.

“I’m worried about you.” You whisper out this confession, and Satoru’s lips part. He looks like he’s about to joke around, to say “aha! I knew it!”, but he doesn’t. There’s a defeated sort of air to him when he tells you,

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m Satoru Gojo, after all.” The smile he gives you is a good imitation of his genuine one, but you can see through him just as easily as he does you.

“I can’t worry about Satoru Gojo?”

“You would waste time and precious tears over the strongest?”

It’s true that his strength is a big part of him, but it’s not his entire being. People chase after the reason for their existence all the time, while Satoru’s been told his entire life that being blessed with his strength is the sole cause for his existence. Satoru knows what his designated purpose is; no one’s ever given him any room for doubt or an opportunity to pursue another path. He could argue that the not-knowing your purpose in life is a whole lot more fun than actually knowing.

“Who’s going to keep that daifuku shop in Osaka open if you’re gone?” And it’s such an unserious statement to make, a statement that has reduced you to a wet puddle of tears, but it’s genuine.

You don’t care about the strongest dying.

You care about him dying.

With the same disregard for your personal space he had back in high school, Satoru takes your hand and laces his fingers through yours. You’re crying, and you can register the warmth of his physical body, but there’s a foreignness in his touch that you don’t recognize, a touch that your hand engraved with memories of him can’t quite seem to remember. It scares you, because you’ve never felt this before. You’re gripping his hand even tighter, as if trying to force his familiar presence to steady you, but there’s no use.

When you touch Satoru, you cannot feel his future. You can’t feel him.

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk 261 #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk one shot #imagine #drabble

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brainrotbabe24 · 2 months ago

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Ooh what about Thorins company when reader has dyed hair?? Like makes their hair dye out of plants/flowers or something and every week or so has a new hair colour and like one where you can TELL that its dyed like pink, red, purple, etc

Hi! I'm sorry for not getting back to you sooner! But I had so much fun writing this....It got me out of a writing funk hehe! 🤩💖

Balin: It will always make him chuckle. Balin would regularly compliment you, admiring the bold style. He loves the wild colors and the free spirit you have.

Dwalin: Dwalin finds it helpful when he looks for you in a crowd. It makes him feel safe and secure when he knows where you are.

Óin: Oin is Impressed with your skills. "It takes talent and determination to achieve those gorgeous colors!' He would remake. He would often ask about your technique and what materials you used.

Glóin: Unlike Oin, Gloin is not impressed. He doesn't approve of it. He is more traditional and thinks you're ruining your natural hair and natural beauty. What a party pooper, lol!

Bifur: Bifur adore the colors! He would insist on braiding your hair, wanting to see the colors blend together. He would also add some decorations to add extra pizzazz to it!!

Bofur: Bofur is so sweet! He would want to have matching hair colors! "Come on, let's have pink hair; it would be perfect!" he would say with an infectious smile. He's always full of ideas for new colors, and you find it hard to say no to his charm.

Bombur: Bombur is fascinated at how quickly you can transform. He loves how you can change your style and look so different. He swears it's some kind of magic!

Ori: Ori is your go-to for color advice! He knows exactly how to make the colors pop. He has tips and tricks to make sure the color stays and would also go out of his way to find rare plants that would make some crazy cool colors for you!

Dori: He finds it to be a little improper. He cares deeply about appearance, so the colorful hair almost gives him a heart attack. But after a while, he would slowly come around to liking it and would want to match his outfit to the color of your hair.

Nori: Oh, Nori would tease you relentlessly. A mischievous smirk would creep onto his face each time he saw you. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you're trying to catch my eye with all this blue hair." he would say. He honestly loves the bold colors…even if he doesn't say it outright.

Thorin: Thorin wouldn't openly tell you his thoughts on your hair, but his lingering gazes tell you everything. He tries to make his stares not obvious, but you catch him a few times and can tell he is captivated.

Fíli: Fili loves your colorful hair! He can't stop touching and playing with it! "It's like I'm touching a rainbow," he would murmur. He would be so excited to see which color you would have next.

Kíli: Kili is your biggest supporter! He's always on the lookout for new ingredients so you can get new shades. He is determined to get you to every color in the rainbow. "Here, let me help you with that," he would say, holding the bowl as he mixed the ingredients and gently applied them to your hair. What a good helper, hehe!

Bilbo: Whatever color you have, he will try to find a food that matches. So, if you have blue/purple hair, he'll bake a blueberry pie. If you have red hair, Bilbo will bring home strawberries. If you have yellow hair, he will make honey cake. It's a fun little game you guys play!

#the hobbit #thorins company #balin #dwalin #bifur #bofur #bombur #nori #dori #ori #gloin #oin #thorin oakenshield #fili #kili #bilbo baggins #x reader

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ohno-the-sun · 13 days ago

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Oh uh forgot to ask in the previous ask (the one with the digital piece of candy and scurrying and stuff)

How do you draw art so good

Is there a method you use or is that just the style you've gotten over time?

you've activated my trap card

I'm just gonna preface that this tutorial is from someone who was not professionally trained and didn't have a lot of free time for art, so a lot of the tips I have is short cuts I use to get the best results quickly

If you genuinely want to get better at art then please look at references and practice that is always the best

However if you are like me and only really do art for fun but want to go faster then these are for you pfppt

Overall I'd say my style is influenced by speedpaints I would watch when I was younger, I like analyzing how people do things and what makes something look "good" to me

I always recommend watching them because they will often have techniques you've never seen before or do things a certain way that you can try out yourself

I consume good art, it feeds me

but seriously it can be super helpful when developing your own methodology, or just generally trying something new

Usually it starts with me pulling some references from artists I really admire and sort of sketching out how they do the things I like

For example 8um8le has like super good anatomy and poses so I focused on trying to replicate how they do that

venemous-qwille is super good at color and pulling focus so that's what I focused on in my study of them

In general I'd say my process is sketch -> silhouette -> color -> shading -> render

I really don't like doing lineart lol

I'd say for the sketch the most important part is using references and just kind of fudging it until it looks correct anatomically/physically

General rule of thumb is spend time on areas of interest, and keep non important areas light (like the stitching on his pants)

I don't do lineart because I think its unnecessary for most paintings I do

I naturally tend to put more time and focus on areas of interest (like hands and feet) and if you use a brush with opacity for the sketch, those areas are naturally going to be darker in the final sketch

Of course this is gonna be different for everyone but it's what works for me

Sometimes I do a really really sketchy layer underneath my sketch/lineart, just so I know where everything is going

Use thumbnails! They are great to help figure out the general layout of things and what pose I wanna do

Next is what I call the "silhouette" layer

This is super important for me cause it helps me refine the figure and make sure the pose/anatomy looks correct, also depending on what color I choose for the silhouette helps guide what colors I'm going to use on top

This piece is a good example of how it works. The silhouette shows me how the figure interacts with the background, how the pose looks and if its any good

The silhouette layer doesn't have to be super clean, as long as it follows the sketch decently well and shows where the figure is then its fine

I also sometimes make the silhouette layer multiple colors to help guide shading and vibe

Next is the coloring layer. I usually make this a clipping layer on top of the silhouette layer, or I change the silhouette layer to alpha lock, either way it saves me time on coloring everything in

Sometimes I am super rough with the coloring too, using like an airbrush or my fav watercolor brush just to generically block in color where I want it

Works out cause most objects have like a bounce light to them from surrounding objects, so this is sort of a cheat I use to get that effect without all the work lol

Also don't be afraid to have the lower silhouette layer shining through, having multiple colors sort of subtly shining through the piece helps lots

Next is the shading layer, this is usually another clipping layer, usually set to "multiply"

The colors I pick here is usually within this range, any color works, just depends on the piece and vibes.

Since this piece is set in a sunset forest I choose a more desaturated orange for the shading layer

I know there's a whole thing about multiply layer being a crutch (and it kind of it) but it is a useful tool when you just want some darker values across the piece but don't want to go through the process of color picking every single darker shade

Also in my opinion it looks better than picking a darker color and setting it to a lower opacity, idk I just think the color has more "depth"

Next is the hardest to explain, sort of the vibes layer

Usually its just a layer of more concentrated color on top of the normal color and I fudge with the settings and values until I get a result I like

Next is the longest step, is the "extra" or the render stage.

Usually I add a background before this step so that if I need to merge the figure better with the background I can

If I render with a white background but he's supposed to be in a dark forest, its going to mess with the lighting severely

Also this is when I add more "vibe" layers on top to get the figure to match the background better

Backgrounds in general I recommend checking out @/derekdomnicdsouza on instagram he's got lots of great tutorials for breaking down backgrounds simply

I'd say general rule for the rendering layer is to focus on the areas of interest and spend less time on areas you don't care about

I even blur stuff out on the edges I don't want people to see, partially to save time on fixing mistakes in areas I dont care about (oop), but mainly to help draw the eye to the areas I do want people to focus on

Theoretically parts of the background should like mesh with the characters, parrallel lines are a no no unless they are directing a viewer to look somewhere, things that are perpendicular help bring things together

tbh I'm still not the best at layout and probably need more practice, but overall this is what I like doing

Overall this is what my layer set up ends up being

Sort of a sandwich with the lineart/sketch as the "meat" lol

Color and basic shading below the sketch, clean-up and rendering on top

I like this method cause it's super flexible if I ever want to try something different or try to replicate someone's style

I can make each step less or more messy depending on the end result and can add a lineart layer if need be. Also if there's a part that is straight up not working or needs to be removed its super easy to do cause I can just paint over it on the "extras" layer, color picking from the surrounding area to get the same vibe

Generally rule of thumb for my style is: get the initial layout of colors, form and shading to look good, then the rendering should be smooth sailing

Really the best advice I can give to get better at art is to enjoy what you're doing and become very very obsessed with drawing a silly little guy

You'll eventually get very good at drawing them pfptpf

#sundrop #moondrop #long post #art tutorial #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #I draw them way too much holy guac #ask #this is for you asker #idk if anyone else is interested in this kind of stuff #i apologize for ranting lol #also me struggling to spell silhouette like 15 times

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eerna · 6 days ago

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can you explain your art techniques a little bit further? I just saw your post about arcane helping you drop line art and stuff, and I wanted to understand better (as someone trying to get into digital art)

Sureee, ty for asking! :)

For the first 7 years of my digital art journey I imitated the comicbook-style art tutorials and techniques artists I liked used. This means that I would start out with a sketch, draw the lineart on another layer on top of the sketch, hide the sketch, use solid blocks of color on separate layers for the coloring, and add lighting effects on top of it all. I was never really happy with how it turned out, and I often felt like I shouldn't have gone past the colored sketch phase because the full render would lose so much life. I used pretty much the same brushes I use now, aside from some textured ones, but not to their full potential because they were painting brushes being used for flat shading. Here's a few examples of fully rendered stuff from 2020-2021:

Then, I realized I do NOT have to do things I don't wanna do, and I can totally remove any steps from the process that I wish! I experimented for a while until I settled on a new thing that worked for me. And so my current process is: draw a sketch, color it all on one layer (base colors), add light effects if needed, add another layer on top of everything, and paint until satisfied with the level of rendering. Then I add optional effects, such as fires or patterns. This means I leave the sketch layer visible, so I have to clean it and base colors with erasers as I work, but it enables me to preserve the sketchy energy. The "all rendering on one layer" approach frees my hand and I don't feel pressure to render everything separately and perfectly, which in turn, ironically, makes my art look more detailed because the eye compensates for unfinished bits. In addition, the line between a colored sketch and a fully rendered piece is much thinner, which means I don't have to commit to completing anything, and that is a big deal for an insecure person prone to artblocks. If I lose interest halfway through the lineart-and-blocks-of-color process, I am left with an unusable piece. If I do it halfway through the painting process, I get a charming, messy piece a la my recent Chappell Roan art (I left the armor unfinished, and yet it doesn't clash with the rest of the art). Here's a recreation I did to show what a big difference the different approach makes:

So why didn't I stop doing lineart sooner? I did try, but my attempts tried to replicate what I did when painting traditionally, instead of adjusting to my digital abilities, so it usually looked whack. I remember showing my friends the Rito Village piece back in 2019, which was painted based on a screenshot from the game, and one of them telling me "Don't go back to lineart!" I was like "YEAH I am NOT going back to lineart!!! I will keep painting!!!" Only to realize that painting landscapes with already stylized references and painting portraits were completely different. Here's a painting portrait from one of those trial and error attempts. Later I realized the mistake was working on TOP of the sketch, as I would have done for traditional work, instead of both below AND on top of it - after all, my intention was to preserve the life of the sketch, which was impossible when I couldn't even see it. I also didn't understand color values (or honestly, any color aspects) very well, resulting in some low-contrast, unappealing blobs.

So yeah, my advice to any beginner digital artist is: experiment and figure out what works for you. Think about what makes you happy when creating, and build your process around it. Also, keep researching art theory and applying it to your work. Good luck to you and all other digital artists~

#eernask #art tips #therealkaidertrash21 #ngl drawing with lineart again tripped me SO MUCH bjbfkBFJK #i legit still have the same issues i had 3 years ago when i stopped doing it!! i thought i got better at understanding volumes and dynamic #shapes. and i did. but the MOMENT i stop doing the technique that ALLOWED me to understand them i am right back to awkward mistakes #i always disliked how my art would turn out wider than it was sketched. i haven't had that issue since 2022. now look at what i just drew #this afternoon and compare how much wider the head is than on the sketch #what i am trying to say is. your process is super duper important! don't just do the things that work for other people! listen to yourself!

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theenbyroiderer · 1 year ago

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In the lull between fiber projects I'll just post another tutorial. Though this one is less a tutorial and more vague guidelines. There are parts that I can't really tell you how to do and I'm sure there are details that I don't have photos of... but I'll try to describe the process as best I can, and just hope that my words can fill in the gaps. Just ask if you have any questions and I'll try to answer them.

Materials: Cotton fabric, durable, not too thin. Pipe cleaners. Off white cotton thead. Off white wool yarn, a couple different thicknesses is preferable. One shorter and one longer needle, both sharp. (I used sashiko needles, one ~4cm and one ~6 cm.) Felting needles, for the top of the skull. Various green shades of wool yarn, perle, and other threads, for the foliage.

Step by step instructions:

1. Make a skull out of pipe cleaner. Just do it, I can't tell you how.

2. Find something to fill your skull with. I filled mine with a bundle of orts (thread scaps), so in my mind this skull will forever be known as Ort-For-Brains. I stitched around and through the bundle of orts a bit so that it was less a random tangle and more of a solid round shape. Then I tucked the orts into the skull and stitched the skull to the fabric with just a few stitches (using a durable cotton thread) around the edge. Make sure you fill the space inside the skull completely. Underneath the face of the skull the brains poked out a bit, so I did some stitches with the cotton thread there to hold the orts down. Another filler may be easier to work with, but I just couldn't resist the though of using colorful orts as brains...

3. Stitch over the pipe cleaner scaffold using wool yarn. I can't tell you exactly how to do this either, and depending on the shape of your scaffold you might encounter different challenges. Just be methodic, and don't overthink it. Use a thicker yarn, or more strands, on the top of the skull, and thinner/fewer strands when you are doing the face. When doing the face I'd say start with the eye sockets because they dominate the face. Stitch outwards from them, as if the sockets are suns and the thread sunbeams, if you get what I mean.

4. When you have stitched to your heart's content you may want to felt parts of the skull to make it smoother. I did anyway. I took bits of wool yarn and carded them a bit to make them less yarn-shaped and more like little sheets of wool, then I used felting needles to poke them into place on the top of the skull. If you have actual rowing wool, use that, it's probably better.

5.When you are satisfied with the skull you can do whatever you want with it of course. I added foliage. Techniques I used for that include: turkey stitch, drizzle stitch, woven picot stitch, bullion stitch and french knots.

#embroidery #3d embroidery #fiber art #3d embroidery tutorial #embroidery tutorial #fiber art tutorial #tutorial #kind of anyway #skull art #memento mori

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novlr · 4 months ago

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I know lots of people say writers block doesn't exist but I still get it (don't come at me, ok?)

Do you have any tips on how to get over it? Like I've tried all the usual things but I'm still stuck.

There are so many reasons why someone might be unable to write, so no shade here. Inspiration doesn't always come when we need it to, and that's ok.

If you've tried all the usual techniques, then here are some more things that have worked for me in the past:

Switch genre.

I know that sounds drastic, but imagining your story from a brand new perspective is a crazy but effective way to shake loose ideas. You might even realise that the block is because your story fits another genre better. It's definitely worked for me in the past.

2. Switch format.

Just because you imagine your project a certain way, doesn't always mean it's the best way to tell your story. Had an idea for a novel but you're struggling to extend it? Maybe it works better as a short story. Were you working on an epistolary novel with a narrow view but you can't bring the story together? Maybe it should be long-form prose instead!

3. Word association.

Play some writing games to do with word association. Mindmap or list anything that comes to mind when you think of a certain word you associate with your project and see if it sparks any ideas.

4. Change the ages of your characters.

If you're struggling with your characters behaving in a way that doesn't seem to suit the story you want to tell, try changing their ages. How does the story work if your characters are more mature? How would a child behave in a certain scenario? Maybe the block is that the characters simply aren't the right age for you to tell your story.

5. Write in a different language.

Now, this one won't be a possibility for everyone, but if it is, then it can be a good way to come up with new ideas. Different languages engage different ways of thinking and communication. Sometimes just working in a different language for a chapter you're struggling with can give you some new ideas.

6. Change the PoV.

For me, the biggest cause of writer's block is if I'm stuck in a PoV but need to either reveal or obscure something the PoV doesn't allow for. You can spend hours trying to solve the problem, when really, trying for a different PoV is usually the easy fix. Don't tell a story with a first person narrow PoV if you need an omniscient narrator, and vice versa.

7. Go on a microadventure.

Get out of the house and do something else. Keep a notebook with you, and just get outside and try and experience something new. Keep your project in the back of your mind, and actually take in the experience you're having and try and use it for inspiration. Or don't. Sometimes doing something completely unrelated is enough to get over the hump.

Want more detail on any of the above? Click the link to the full post in the Reading Room below!

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luxuki-1 · 3 months ago

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Like I said I would, I'm going to go through the details I hid in my recent FNAF painting. Not because anyone asked, but because I want to and I'm proud of everything put in

1. Michael's design is my own! I've pretty much had the same concept for the design since SB came out. I just really liked the idea of having part of his jaw missing for no particular reason other than it looks cool. But, I have since moved the jaw gap to the other side, as well as defining scars and wrinkles.

2. I've already posted Golden Freddy but here he is again. I redrew the original poster since I really didn't feel like I just should just slap the original on there. Since I had that freedom now, I decided to make references in the design to later games since it is appearing as a hallucination(?) to Michael. Obviously there are blood stains around the mouth to reference The Bite of '83 and I also added tear stains to reference Evan/CC, said victim of the bite.

3. The classic "Celebrate!" poster. The same thing with Golden Freddy, I didn't feel like I should copy and paste the original so I drew it myself, but this time I only drew the bottom half of the crew since you'd only see that part anyway. Maybe one day I'll fully recreate the poster but for now, this is it lol (You may also notice that I gave each of them different leg shapes, to make them more distinguished from each other other than just colour)

4. And again, didn't want to just copy and paste, so I re-typed all of the newspaper clippings myself in Canva. They say pretty much the same thing as the originals, but I'll still put them here anyway in case anyone wants to take a look:

5. I also recreated the children's drawings myself. Fun fact: I actually used my NON-dominant hand to draw most the basic shapes. I figured that if I drew with my dominant hand, the lines might look too clean, showing my obvious years experience. It's silly but I really wanted it to look and feel like a child drew it

6. It ends up being pretty much invisible in the final painting, but on the floor you can see old confetti and blood stains on the tiles

7. If it wasn't obvious; cup from the Security office is here too

8. Now it should it obvious by now that I chose to not draw the security office. Why you ask? I'm still new to drawing more detailed backgrounds, and I really didn't feel like drawing the office in the moment lol so I opted for the hallway, and I think it still looks pretty good with what I was going for

9. As a bonus, here's the original sketch I planned out. As you can see, I was originally planning to have more posters, some featuring the missing children. But in the end, I decided to scrap it and leave room for the wall to be more detailed since I thought it looked bare. Also, if you look closely, you can see a faint plan for a shadow over Mike. I was originally planning to put a shadow of Freddy there, but when I really started finishing up the shading, I realised that the extra shadow would be too much for an already dimly lit scene

And that's pretty much everything! I had so much fun doing all the little details and references, even though it did end up being more time consuming lol. I also tried out a bunch of different rendering techniques and I think they really helped pulled everything together. I'm definitely going to try my hand and making more paintings like this in the future ^^

If interested in seeing the full process, here's a link to the speed-paint:

youtube

#art #digital art #fanart #artists on tumblr #fnaf 10th anniversary #fnaf #fnaf fanart #drawing process #Youtube

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basichextechml · 2 years ago

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Details

Wednesday Addams/Fem!Reader

Rating: Teen // 4.7K words // Reader uses she/her pronouns, no looks are described, rated teen bc the jokes are morbid and somewhat graphic, reader is a shapeshifter, reader is a touch insecure but don’t worry guys it’s good I swear, I’m sick w covid rn so if you spot a mistake no you don’t (but actually tell me pls), there’s a playlist at the end of this fic pls check it out love you guys <3

A chain reaction is set off when Wednesday realizes she’s not actually talking to her roommate

Pt. 2

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Wednesday wasn’t talking to Enid right now.

Sure Enid was in front of her, sitting on her bed, in their room, wearing her clothes, and her face- but it had, embarrassingly, taken Wednesday five whole minutes to realize it wasn’t Enid. Her hairline was off, her smile was a bit too big, and her eyeliner wasn’t done with its normal flicked technique. What cracked the bell, however, was the fact that her nails were a different color. Wednesday normally couldn’t care less, but her roommate had been trying to find the perfect shade of green for her nails for the past month and had only repainted them this morning, blabbering on and on about it. A fact that made Wednesday want to open the large decorative window, and fling herself out of it.

But her nails weren’t green. They were blue with pink polka dots. The same pattern she had last week.

“You’re a pretty convincing fake,” Wednesday bit, and faux-Enid paused mid-sentence.

You’d been caught.

Wednesday continues, tilting her head down to glare at you through her lashes. Other than those minute details- you really could be Enid. Or, at least, someone lesser than her would believe so. “Who are you, and why have you chosen to impersonate my roommate?”

Faux-Enid sighed, before sticking on her house slippers and stepping towards Wednesday, holding out a hand. After a moment of consideration, Wednesday took it firmly in hers and shook it twice. You clicked your tongue in satisfaction- a decidedly un-Enid thing for you to do. Wednesday never thought she’d see the uncanny implications of someone wearing another’s face so nonchalantly in person.

“(Y/n),” You said, brows pitching up as you finally looked around freely, “I just wanted to see the great Wednesday Addams that everyone’s been whispering about.”

“Whispering is for wakes, I prefer it that way, everyone’s been too loud since I’ve arrived.”

You understood now why everyone was talking- well, maybe for different reasons. They were concerned about the attempted murder charges. You were wondering how someone could be so pretty. She was entirely ignoring you as well, a bold move considering you were a stranger, and you had impersonated her roommate and snuck into her dorm.

Hm. That made you sound like a creep.

Oh well.

The newly occupied side of the room was sparsely decorated- a far cry from Enid’s colorful and cluttered abode. You couldn’t say it was bad, though, everything was organized, in its rightful place- and delightfully macabre, accentuating the architecture that encased it. Her bedsheets had hospital corners. Taking care not to touch anything, you glanced over the few trinkets she had, lingering on the heavy typewriter with a fresh piece of paper stuck inside its hold.

As you take a step closer to her, she takes one back.

You rescind your previous step, putting twice the space between you- and you catch a downward twitch in her brow.

“A murder mystery?” You ask, looking her in the eye. Wednesday isn’t entirely sure you’re asking about her book, even though it is the topic of discussion.

Wednesday found herself asking a question without thinking. “How could you tell?”

You turn your back on her, this time. A dangerous decision, she decides, because she can see your neck from here. “Instinct, maybe?” You tease, turning back momentarily to wink. Wednesday’s lips purse tight, perturbed at those words coming from what seems to be Enid’s mouth.

“If you’re going to act in such a way, I’d be much obliged if you stopped mimicking my roommate.” Her skin prickled as you sighed, rocking back on your feet as if contemplating her words.

And then you begin to change, right in front of Wednesday’s eyes.

Wednesday’s ever-present morbid curiosity waits for the cracking of bone or stretching of skin- reminiscent of other transformations she’d bore witness to. This was nothing of the sort- it was smooth. Too smooth. Like a hot knife through the doughy fat of a thigh. It’s disturbing as you take on a new shape, and she can’t blink, because she’ll miss it.

Or maybe she won’t? How can she miss it when the familiar face staring back at her is her?

You trot along to Enid’s mirror, fixing your newfound fringe and admiring how Wednesday’s face looks on you. She had dark brown- nearly black eyes, and a smattering of freckles over her soft skin. Her eyelashes are long, too, wisping against her brows and the apples of her cheeks, almost like a doll. “You really are pretty, Wednesday. Great cheekbones,” She sees the way your eyes look down at her lips in the mirror. “Nice-”

“If you finish that train of thought they’ll find you at the bottom of the lake hog-tied with lead in your pockets.”

You smile at her- and that’s how others would be able to tell you both apart because the muscles responsible for completing such an expression had died in her face long ago. It was like an out-of-body experience, or a successful trial after her many failed attempts at lucid dreaming. It made her feel something- something she couldn’t put a finger on- something she might not like.

She wants to end this.

But then you’d leave.

She wants you to leave.

Right?

It may be too difficult to say no to her own face.

You can see the twitch next to her lip, and know that maybe you’ve pushed the new girl too far- and thus, you borrow Enid again. “Don’t worry, Wednesday,” the way you say her name sends chills up her spine, like hypothermia setting in. It’s different from the way Enid would say it, like you’re pitching her voice differently, making it your own. “I won’t borrow your face if you don’t want me to.”

And just as you make peace with plunging Wednesday into the ice-cold uncharted waters of discomposure, the door jiggles and swings open. Enid- the real one- stands in the doorway with shopping bags on her arm, ones that she nearly drops as she squeals over your presence.

Wednesday takes a step back as the blonde entirely overtakes you, and she’s sure she’ll go blind from the embarrassingly emotional spectacle you both make. Clamoring and chattering as you discuss something undoubtedly trivial. Enid doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve borrowed her complexion. Wednesday doesn’t understand it. Maybe she doesn’t want you to leave. She feels her fingers twitch in the urge to lay you down and cut you open. Shapeshifters must have malleable cells, right? To aid in the transformation process? She wants to see what it would look like under a microscope.

As if sensing her murderous intent, maybe you can see it in her eyes, you turn to her, a sly little smile. “It was lovely meeting you Wednesday. I’d love to hear more about your novel next time we chat.”

The next time.

How bold.

---

When Enid posted on her blog about Nevermore gaining a new student and the scandal that would undoubtedly follow, you were hooked. The Addams were infamous at Nevermore, and now their oldest would be showing up midway through the quarter, tugging along attempted murder charges?

You were itching to meet her.

Heart practically beating out of your chest, you retreated from Enid and Wednesday’s dorm. Riveting. Absolutely riveting. Your fingers and toes were numb in excitement at the prospect of the rest of the quarter. Who knew a flash of braids and a homicidal edge was what this school so desperately needed?

---

“I’m assuming you know her?” Wednesday asked, not bothering to look at her roommate as she pulled out her desk chair and began setting up her typewriter.

“Oh, (Y/n)? Yeah of course! We’re like, besties!” Wednesday fought the urge to roll her eyes at Enid’s terminology. “I was wondering when she was gonna come around- when I told her you were coming to Nevermore she totally freaked.” Enid clipped her bangs back, getting ready for her nightly skin routine. “I can’t believe it took her, like, what, a week? to come say hi.”

Wednesday hummed, barely hearing the words over the clacking of her typewriter keys, her brows furrowed in thought. Enid grabbed her caddy of soaps and prepared to head off into the bathroom. “I feel like you’ll be great friends. Ooooh, we should totally do, like, a group sleepover! I’ll be right back, think about it, okay?”

The front door slammed shut behind Enid, and Wednesday grumbled, pulling out the used sheet of paper from her typewriter and crumpling it up. Thing looked up from his place on Wednesday’s bed, shutting the magazine he’d been leafing through to see what was troubling her. Wordlessly, she fed another piece of paper into the paper table.

Perhaps Viper De La Muerte’s mystery would gain another character.

---

You come to her next as Xavier in their shared botanical sciences class, and she can tell right away based on the doodle you’re scratching into his desk. It’s quite awful. Horrendous, actually- technically speaking.

“Good morning Wednesday” You chirp, and that warbled tone is there again. Perhaps a side effect? Curiosity is creeping up on her in these spare meetings you both share, getting ready to strangle her in the best way

Wednesday sets down her bag, and sits precariously on her chair, eyeing the etched drawing on the desk. It’s a raven, and when it doesn’t pop out of the table at her, she’s sure of her conviction.

“(Y/n)” She states.

You let out an affronted gasp, eyes crinkling at the recognition, before propping your chin up on your hand. “How could you tell? Was it my magnetic personality?” Wednesday focuses on the way your, Xaviers, fingers tap and fidget against the desk like you think she won’t notice. “Perhaps our first encounter has captured your heart- and you’ve fallen for me?”

“I’d rather you watch me fall off a cliff.”

“Sounds like the perfect date idea, how about seven tomorrow night?”

You watch in excitement as her brows tick up a hairline of an inch and the way her cheeks look a little less dead. She most likely wasn’t used to someone receiving her sardonic personality with open arms.

In place of answering, she chooses to counter it with another question. “Why are you impersonating Xavier?”

Dramatically, you pull out a notebook. Not a sketchbook. A real notebook. And begin to take dutiful notes. Another way she would’ve been able to tell the difference between you and Xavier. “If someone doesn’t want to go to class, for whatever reason, they normally pay me to come and make sure they don’t miss an attendance credit, take a test, get homework-”

“Cheat?”

“If that’s what you’d like to call it, then yeah, cheat,” You shrug, “It makes me good money, and I get to keep the grade curve up. I’m sure you could appreciate that.” Your pencil nudges against hers, tapping against her meticulous notes.

She’s not sure where to take this conversation, and that weird feeling is back. Normally, she’s itching to leave a conversation. Any conversation. Maybe it’s the fact that while she’s talking to Xavier, she’s also talking to you. There’s nothing to put to your voice yet, even when it’s masked and warbled by another.

Wednesday is talking to someone, and she doesn’t really know who. The concept is eldritchtian in nature, that she could look over and not understand something that was right in front of her face. There’s no control. A masterful side eye keeps watch on you throughout the period. If she can’t put a face to a name, she could at least tack onto mannerism. Maybe then she could control that feeling in her gut.

You liked keeping your hands above the desk and busy. You’d fidget with them often, picking at your nails. Your nose would involuntarily twitch whenever Thornhill pulled out a particularly foul-smelling plant. But was that you or Xavier? Wednesday’s pen taps the edge of her paper, leaving ink blots in the margins. She could argue that it’s you- at the end of the day it’s your brain, but another part says you could be subconsciously mimicking the mannerisms of whoever you’re impersonating. You’re a puzzle with one too many edge pieces that she’s trying to make fit.

She’s adorable- thinking that you don’t notice she’s watching you. The thing about being different, for good or bad reasons, is that you can feel when someone’s trying to understand you. How their eyes linger. Maybe it’s masochism that runs your brain because you feel good gaining her attention- no matter how depraved it was.

The game of ignoring and noticing each other continued throughout the period, like a dance you had practiced, making sure not to step on each other’s toes. You wondered if she was curious enough to ask now. You wanted her to ask. To be curious enough to suggest meeting up. To know you better. From what Enid had spilled about her, Wednesday was confident- and unpredictable. The ball was never in your court because she was never even playing her game with you, just hitting it against the wall by your head and waiting for you to flinch.

You’d flinch if she wanted.

Miss Thornhill wrapped up the end of class, the volume of the room slowly rising as kids began to talk about their upcoming plans for the weekend. You watched slyly as Wednesday packed up, flipping your notebook closed to give back to Xavier.

“My room, tonight after dinner,” Wednesday murmured firmly, and your smile pulled taught, an ache in your cheeks. But your victory was short-lived, the lips you’d admired in the mirror spelling your crash.

“Don’t come as anyone.”

---

You were stupid to have not thought this far.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Getting so caught up in just trying to capture her attention, you didn’t even know what you were going to do if you got it. You thought it would take a couple more tries to get her fully into the idea of being around you- but you had underestimated Enid’s words.

Wednesday knew what she wanted quickly, and she expected to get it.

It would be hot if you weren’t mentally freaking out.

She said to meet her after dinner, but that didn’t specify a certain time, right? Hypothetically, you could show up whenever. You could say you had a late dinner- but you know that wasn’t what she met. She’d already be upset at you for disregarding her last request, you couldn’t be late on top of that.

As you walked through the hallowed halls of Nevermore Academy, you people-watched. There were so many interesting students here. No matter their disposition, they had rich lives that would no doubt continue on and only grow more complex. Intriguing powers that had so many quirks and kickbacks that you could only imagine what it felt like to have them come naturally to you. There were so many compelling people here- so why would you want to be you when you could pretend to be them?

Shifting from foot to foot, you knocked on the door. Well, Bianca technically knocked on the door, but it was still just you. Enid answers, looking somewhat taken aback before realization dawns on her. “(Y/n)- come on in! I was just about to go meet Ajax, so it’ll just be you and Wednesday.” The way she says it sounds like she’s hinting something, looking at you with wide eyes and a mischievous little smile.

‘Subtle’ You mouth to her, nodding your head. Enid does a bashful curtsey, before grabbing her keys. She makes sure it’s loud as she locks the door behind her.

And then it’s two.

Wednesday looks positively deadly cut against the low light of the iconic Ophelia Hall window. The way she glares through you emphasizes her distaste for your actions.

“I see you’ve decided on Bianca today. Odd, considering I asked for you.” You’re nearly prepared to say something, mustering up enough thought to figure out what she’d even want to hear, but it’s her who steps closer. And closer. And closer.

She’s in your space now, looking up ever so slightly at you. “Take it off.”

“You could at least buy me dinner first,” You stumble out, voice not nearly as confident as it had to be for that line.

Wednesday only tilts her head, coy as can be, with a brow slightly raised. “I thought you liked my unconventional… date ideas.”

You muffled a laugh, “I didn’t even get the first one. I was looking forward to seeing the rocks together-”

Wednesday wondered if you do it- if you’d teeter into the violence of her earlier statements.

“-If you’d jump, and if you did, how you’d hit them. Maybe, what it would look like when I followed after you.”

You’d been lured into her trap. And by the way, Wednesday could feel the corners of her mouth twitching up, she’d been ensnared in yours. But she couldn’t let you win so easily. She couldn’t find herself letting you do it. Turning away, she marched to her desk, pulling out a thin, monogrammed book, and a pen. “I believe I made that commitment to (Y/n), not Bianca.”

Frozen to the floorboards, you stare wide-eyed, having been put right back into the one spot you didn’t want to be. Wednesday could hear the hitch in your breath, matching it with her own to see how long it would take you to breathe again. The satisfying ache in her lungs proved that she had caught you off guard. “To make it up to me, you’ll be answering a few questions.” She points to her bed, telling you to sit.

Relief wasn’t the right word to describe your state. Abject happiness? Pure and unbridled repose? Perhaps disappointment- because you wouldn’t be meeting your demise to the cold, small hands of Wednesday Addams. Though, a thorough interrogation will take a close second.

There was a weird disconnect with the situation. You’d tell Wednesday anything she wanted to know. What you were, how you felt, your deepest fears, your middle name. But the idea of shedding whomever you had borrowed and bearing your face to the world terrified you. The idea that she could know everything about you and know nothing at the same time felt comfortable, but when Wednesday Addams was looking at you with a curious spark in her eyes, you felt it wasn’t the right choice at all.

Scurrying over to the bed, you hurriedly sat down- only to sit on something soft. Not in the springy way, a bed was soft, but in the way people were soft.

Wednesday watched in amusement as you yelped, jumping up quickly off of her bed. Thing angrily crawled his way out of the covers, obviously having been woken up from his after-dinner nap. Desperately, you apologized to Thing, seemingly unfazed by the fact that he was only a hand. She doubts he’s the weirdest thing you’ll see while you choose to associate with her. “Thing, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), Thing. Now stop apologizing.” Wednesday demands, grabbing Thing and carrying him over to Enid’s side of the room. Precariously, she tucks him in, before turning her back on him, leaving no room for argument. She pointed to the bed again. “You. Sit.” What were you meant to do? Say no? Perched on the side of the bed, you waited for her to begin her investigation a la (Y/n).

“You can become anything?” Wednesday started, writing along the printed lines of her notebook.

“Anything you want.” You tease.

“I want a real answer.”

“Anything I want, within reason,” You sigh, leaning back on your hands.

She stopped writing for a moment, looking over the edge of her book, “And what does that entail?”

“I can’t get too small,” You emphasize, making a small box with your hands and then gesturing to the rest of yourself, “Or else I feel cramped. And I can’t get too big, because then I’ll be stretched too thin, and everything’ll become unstable.” Wednesday narrows her eyes for a moment, hitting the nib of the pen against the paper before deciding what to write.

“What about width?”

“Oooh, that’s a good question- haven’t tried it? I guess? Not many things are wider than they are tall.”

Wednesday hums in thought, before grabbing her desk chair and propping it up in front of you, sitting down herself. Your knees were knocking together, the only thing separating your skin from hers being her uniform skirts. Bianca always liked to roll her skirt up a bit, so you did too. “Does it hurt?”

“Did what hurt? When I fell for you- Ow!”

You rubbed at the skin of your knee where she had stabbed you with her pen, the broken skin healing itself within the blink of an eye. You could feel her gaze watching it.

“We’re not doing that bit again. Your abilities seem to have a healing aspect.” She mumbles, furiously scribbling something down. You wondered what she was even writing. ‘Initial observation, healing aspect, eternal torture? Must review’. Yeah, no, okay.

“Not exactly, It’s sort of like healing- but also a bit more complex. When you heal, you make new cells, right?”

“Of course.”

“But what I just did wasn’t making new cells- it’s just the same cells remembering what was there, transforming into that, and then moving accordingly.” Tentatively, you grab her hand. It’s cold and rigid against yours, like a corpse, and you move it to the skin of your knee. You’d never be able to tell that there was a hole there in the first place. “Of course, I still produce new cells like everyone else, it’s just if I were to sustain a large injury- a lethal one, being a shapeshifter wouldn’t save me. My cells would transform and move, but that would only be tearing me open in a different way.”

There’s a smile on Wednesday’s face.

It’s small, barely even there, like an apparition, but you can see it.

Wednesday is enamored with you. Your skin was so warm. You were holding her hand so tightly. She had this disgusting, revolting feeling in her chest. One she wanted to keep there forever.

“So I couldn’t crack your ribs open and crawl inside of you?”

“If you had to keep warm, of course.”

You were so close.

Suddenly, she clapped her notebook shut, the chair screeching as she lurched out of it. Jolting, you leaned back a little, watching with wide eyes as she slammed the notebook into her desk drawer and shut it.

“We’re going to see the rocks tomorrow.” She demanded, reminiscent of when she asked you to come here. “And I do want you this time.”

Son of a bitch.

“I…” Your mouth felt dry. It was amazing how she managed to make you feel so comfortable while trapped. “I’ll think about it.” And within the next moment, you were a mouse scurrying across the floor boards, and ducking right beneath the door frame.

You didn’t stop running until you were down the stairs and in the main entrance hall- quickly changing back and collapsing against a wall.

A mouse? Did you become a fucking mouse?

Silently screaming into the hall, you hit your head against the ground, embarrassment flooding through your every nerve. Because what the fuck. You became a fucking mouse and you ran under the door.

You knew what you had to do.

You had to die.

Life was over at this point- there was no use continuing. Wednesday Addams had (sort of) asked you out, and like a complete and utter loser, you ran away. As a mouse.

---

You had been avoiding her.

It had been a week since Wednesday Addams had last seen you. And a single question loomed above them all.

Who did you think you were?

You barge into her room, responding to her threats and homicidal tendencies in kind, making her interested, sticking her neck out onto the guillotine. Making her want to hold and touch you. Hold your warm hands. Run her fingers over your skin. And you’re hiding from her?

To say she was positively murderous at this point was an understatement. Her rage was unconcealable. People avoided her in the halls, well, more so than before. Enid was neglecting to start conversations when they shared their dorm, fearing the wrath she may incur if Wednesday was even a bit more annoyed. She had already stabbed Xavier with her pen twice. He didn’t even have the nerve to treat her to a spectacle such as you did.

Her cello was bearing the brunt of her bad mood this evening, pulling along the strings and bow to string together a much blunter rendition of Shostakovich’s String Quartet No. 8. The callouses on the tips of her fingers burned as she flew through the piece, a much-needed pain to distract her from her inner turmoil. It felt so right.

As the last few notes on the page crept up on her, the quartet drawing to a close, there was a glint in the night. Brows furrowed and lips pouted, she closed her music book, setting down her bow and cello to approach the edge of the stoned terrace. A raven- big and beautiful, flapped its wings closer, a chain dangling from its beak with a pendant hanging from the end. Like it recognized her, it stalled in the air, almost waiting for Wednesday to hold out her hand.

Tentatively, she did so, and the raven dropped the cold, sterling silver amulet into her hand. Ignoring its retreat, she turned the amulet around, peering into the glass class on the other side. Its contents puzzled her.

“Don’t turn around.”

Head snapping up, Wednesday felt a tingle run down her spine as she looked onto the horizon. She knew that voice.

One that was normally distorted with another’s, warbled and lost in a tonal fray, was crystal clear.

“I… I wanted to apologize.”

“For ignoring my existence?”

“Yes, I just…” She could hear your exasperated sigh behind her, and instead of turning around, she channeled her want into running her fingers along the grooves of the amulet. “I want to show you who I am. I do. I just don’t think that I… That I’m prepared for what that means. So I got you that.”

It was a Victorian mourning locket. Inside its glass prison lay a small, cut stock card. Oil paints had been used to portray a single, lively and bright eye, laid deep into plush skin. Framing it, were strands of hair, glued and staged to look as though it would when hanging naturally. A single braid of the same hair wormed around and enclosed the portrait, snug against the silver. The hair, skin, and eye colors were unfamiliar to her- but Wednesday Addams was a smart girl, she could piece it together.

She felt as if you had grabbed her heart and pulled it out of her chest, content to watch it slow to a stop in your hand, and all she could muster was- “Who painted this?”

You muffled a laugh. “My dad, don’t worry.”

Wednesday could hear your steps, and by the fourth, she could feel how warm you were against her back.

“This is just my way of saying… that when I’m ready, you’ll be the first person I show. You’ve already seen more of me than anyone else here has.”

Just like when you first met the infamous Wednesday Addams, your fingers were numb. Though, this time, instead of excitement, you were dreadfully, painfully, nervous. Nervous that the girl standing only a few feet in front of you would reject your declaration. All was silent, and the only sound you could comprehend was the thudding of your pulse in your ears as she held the locket out behind her.

“Put it on for me.”

Fingers shaking, you struggled to unclasp the chain, before pulling the chain around her thin neck. Securing the clasp again, you lingered, warm hands smoothing out the baby hairs on the nape of her neck.

Wednesday watched unfamiliar hands flash in front of her eyes, and she knew that she had you at that very moment. “Sit,” she demands again, settling down on the floor of the terrace. One more moment and your back was entirely pressed against hers, the ridges of your spines kissing through your muscle, skin, and clothes. “Thank you,” Wednesday said quietly into the night air, “I’m… I’m pleased, that I’ll be the first.”

She took your hand in hers, and the numbness faded.

---

Thank you guys for reading!! If you enjoyed it pls let me know, my inbox and mentions are always open and reblogs are always appreciated <3

This is a playlist I made for Wednesday, it’s got Latin American goth and orchestral pieces (including the one mentioned above), so if that’s your vibe pls check it out!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1CbNa8jneefleLKCK98HHC?si=0fc47154f345442d

#Wednesday (2022)#Wednesday imagine #Wednesday x Reader #Wednesday Addams x Reader #Wednesday fanfic #reader insert #my fics #my fic

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thewritetofreespeech · 11 months ago

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Could I request Vanitas with an s/o who inherited her father's family's ability to transform into a bird? Everyone transforms into a different bird; S/O is a crow, her father is a peacock, her uncle's a robin, and so on.

He was trying to get some sleep when he heard the peaking at the window. Vanitas rolled over, then glared, before he got up & opened the window. If it had been any other bird, he would have thrown his shoe at it (glass be damned) and gone back to sleep. But he knew those eyes, and that purple shade on its breast meant that it was no ordinary bird. “Couldn’t you just come to the front door like everyone else?”

The crow let out a ‘kaw’ then flew in to land on the floor. A dark shadow enveloping it before fading away to reveal a beautiful woman. “Come in through the front door? In this traffic?”

Vanitas scoffed and shuffled off to his bed again. “What do you want?”

“Nothing. I just hadn’t seen you in a while.” She told him.

“Whose fault is that?”

It might have been a little mean, but he wasn’t the one who was constantly called away.

Being of an old, noble vampire family, [Y/N] already had their commitments to society. Coupled with their strength and inherited technique from their family, Oiseaux d'une Plume, they rose in rank and became a valuable member of the vampire court. That’s how they met. On one of the more hospitable meetings with Lord Ruthven and his much more abiding nephew.

“I can’t exactly say no when asked to do a job, Vanitas. We would see each other even less if I was in prison for treason.”

“I know. I know.” Vanitas replied. His hand coming up to his face. “It’s just frustrating sometimes that you’re on their beck and call.”

“Or rather beak and call.” She snickered at her own joke and Vanitas had to smile a little at that. “I’m here now though. Do you really want to fight?”

“No. I guess not.” He agreed and got ready for bed again, with [Y/N] by his side. “Tell me a story.”

“What are you, 6?” [Y/N] asked, glancing up at him from her position on his chest, but still smiled as she tucked herself back in. “Have I ever told you about my second cousin Antwane?” Vanitas shook his head. “Well, he was a nice young man. Got the short end of the stick on the family ability though. His bird was a chicken. They’re actually really smart birds, but no one knows that because they spend some much time eating them. One time, while he was transformed, someone mistook him for a plain old farmer’s chicken and tried to catch him to put him in a stew. Poor Antwane refused to transform for months after that because he was terrified someone would catch him and turn him into Coq Au Vin or something. Anyway….”

Vanitas listened to the story as he drifted off to sleep. He dreamt about what bird he would want to be if he had that ability. How it would be to fly. What it would be like to be truly free for a change.

When he woke up [Y/N] was gone. Literally flown the coop with a note of ‘urgent business. I will see you soon’. But maybe birds weren’t all that free either.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#vanitas of the blue moon #vanitas #vanitas no carte imagine #vanitas no carte scenarios #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vanitas x reader #vanitas no carte x reader #imagine #scenarios #female reader

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kenjakusbrainstem · 1 year ago

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Defenseless (Mahito x Reader)

Contains: Rape, body horror, multiple limbs, Mahito's hand cock (as mentioned in my other fics).

Hello! Day 15 of Kinktober: Noncon. For the amount of Mahito dub/noncon that I do write, this was kinda difficult. I tried to make sure it was different than the other Mahito stuff I've done, don't want things to seem too samey. I wanted to try something new, which is why I took a scene with my oc and changed it. Hopefully it still reads well despite being plucked out of that plot. Crossposted to Ao3 under the same name and shared to twt at kenjakusbrain. Comment or rb if you have any thoughts or want to hear more about my AU, perhaps I'll post some of it after kinktober.

The school was supposed to be a safe place, one where there were plenty of people around to keep students safe. Especially at a Goodwill Event, when the teachers from multiple schools were there on the same campus. This year's Goodwill Event had been a disaster thus far. You’d gotten separated from your classmates and decided to simply search for low level cursed spirits to exorcise when the strange veil lowered.

Despite the supposed safety, you knew something was wrong when you attempted to reach out to your classmates via cellphone but were unable. With Yuuta overseas you normally paired up with Inumaki, your technique’s meshing fairly well. It was helpful to nearly any sorcerer to be paired with you though, as your ability was to use reversed cursed technique on others. Your weapon proficiency didn’t usually matter, but since this was supposed to be a friendly battle, you only had your wits and two daggers you weren’t fully comfortable with to protect yourself.

While you were confident in your ability to exorcise some low level curses, the uncertainty of what was going on had you on edge.

Slowly you crept toward a part of the campus people rarely went to, you neared the path to the Tomb of the Star Corridor, assuming that there would be some form of guard there. As you made it to the edge of the wooded area near the stairs, you were shocked to find the end of the barrier. It seemed whatever was going on had nothing to do with Tengen.

It made sense to you that whatever the strange barrier was, that is where the trouble had to be. It wouldn’t hurt to hide or at least find someone of authority to alert.

You met surprisingly little resistance as you burst through the veil, heading over toward the only building you could see. If you remembered correctly, it was a warehouse that the school used to store cursed objects. Looking around, you didn’t see any guards, so you slowly approached the building before slipping in through the door quietly.

Inside wasn’t what you expected to see, two horribly transfigured humans laid on the floor of the storage room. You froze, hands immediately flying to your daggers as you looked around. It seemed like it was just you and the transfigured humans. Remembering the work of the Patchwork curse, you were on edge.

Kneeling next to one of the bodies, you attempted to use your technique to assist them in some way. Focusing all of your energy into the palms of your hands, you attempted to restore the assistant that was still moving. Unexpectedly, right before your eyes you watched as the assistant slowly morphed back, his skin returning to a normal shade. You checked the pulse and to your surprise it was faint.

This changed things, unfortunately you felt drained, not expecting to exert that much energy. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to get the assistant back to your teachers soon.

“Oh what do we have here? Did you do this?” A playful voice filled the room. You looked up, shocked to hear another person when you could have swore the room was empty moments ago.

There was no doubt in your mind who it was when he stepped closer, stitches visible on his face, barely obscured by his long blue hair. The curse had an excited look on his face, like he’d just discovered a new toy to play with. As you both looked at the man that used to be transfigured in front of you, you thought to yourself that this was the only time you would have rather been too late to save someone.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, standing upright. Your hands gripped your daggers but with the energy you just used, you couldn’t help but feel exhausted. Still you weren’t going to back down, that wasn’t what a sorcerer would do.

The curse laughed, taking a step toward you. You couldn’t help but step back, but you miscalculated, tripping over the other transfigured human on the ground and stumbling onto your back. The move was a grave mistake, you felt yourself getting dizzy as your head cracked against the floor.

“You managed to change one of my toys back! That’s so strange, if you came with me I wouldn’t have to worry about them breaking so easily. Say, doesn’t that sound fun?” The curse sounded much more excitable than you expected. You hadn’t expected him to speak with the enthusiasm of a child.

The dizziness in your head made it hard to fully comprehend what he was talking about. When he said toys did he mean the assistants? Confusion mixed with fear in your mind to create panic, though your hands gripped your weapons tightly even on the ground, you were somehow less confident than normal in your ability to protect yourself.

You didn’t have the chance to find your voice, because he was on top of you in a flash. The curse was much faster than you had expected. He didn’t touch you immediately, instead choosing to cage you in. For some reason this scared you more, knowing enough about him to know that his abilities functioned through touch. What could he have planned if not killing you right away.

“I’m not allowed to kill any students, but if I hit you hard enough you should forget most of this,” His words didn’t match the tone he was using. The curse sounded like he was discussing a fun pass time he was unable to partake in, not murder. Even though he hadn’t said much, you didn’t want to listen any longer. The pain in your head was already making your head throb, something about trying to understand the curse just made it throb worse.

You held up your weapons, ready to strike if he moved any closer. Or you thought you were. Before you knew it your hands were empty, daggers ripped from them by a limb protruding from his back that you somehow hadn’t noticed until it was too late.

“Now since you can negate my abilities on others, I wonder what you can do to yourself,” The curse thought aloud, hands reaching for your face. You quickly moved your arms up to protect yourself, not that you could do much.

As you felt his hands grasp your forearms, you knew you needed to act quickly. Your skin felt like it was boiling hot where his hands touched, as if the skin could slough off onto the ground or be reshaped like playdoh. Though you were exhausted, you pushed all of your remaining energy into your arms. Even with your best attempt at keeping yourself safe, you could feel his power was much stronger than yours.

“Fascinating! No one’s ever been able to resist Idle Transfiguration before! I wish I could take you back with me, you’re exactly what he’s looking for in a sorcerer,” He rambled as he spoke, a look of amazement in his eyes. He was clearly excited, but you had no idea who or what he was talking about.

It was hard for you to focus, though you’d stopped his attack it felt like something was seriously wrong with your arms. In the dim light of the warehouse it was so hard to tell though.

Opening your mouth to speak, you were stopped by a pair of unexpected lips on yours. The kiss, if you could call it that, full of tongue and teeth. His tongue slipped into your mouth even though you tried to close it. Everything about him was so overwhelming and strange, you’d never felt a kiss so terrifying before.

You tried to lift your arms in an attempt to push him away, but you could barely move them an inch without pain shooting up your body. You had put all of your remaining energy into trying to block his attack, and it hadn’t even been able to stop it. Groaning at the pain in your arms, you wanted nothing more than for him to leave or knock you out. Pulling away from the kiss, he giggled at what you were sure must have been a horrified look on your face.

“You’re getting me so excited just thinking about it. Say will you stay quiet for me so I can try something? I really think you’d be perfect for one of his experiments,” His words made your blood run cold. They sounded so threatening, and who exactly was he talking about? As far as you knew, this curse operated alone, so to have him actively referencing a partner of sorts was alarming.

Without warning the curse flipped your skirt up, exposing your panties to him. You tried to wiggle away, but it was no use, you were on the floor nearly pushed up completely against the wall. The only way out was through him and that wasn’t happening without help.

You watched in fear as the hand in front of you changed shape and size, taking the form of an erect cock. How hard did you hit your head, exactly? You didn’t remember anyone saying that he could manipulate his body into different shapes, but you also just might not have been paying attention. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that, you attempted to close your legs, but you felt two hands wrap around your ankles.

“Even at a time like this you’re trying to fight back? What a good little sorcerer you are,” The mocking tone in his voice made you angry. You felt the blunt head of the cock rubbing against your pussy through your panties, as if he were teasing you instead of torturing. You lifted your hips to try and get away from him, but the hands around your ankles pulled you closer.

The sudden jerking movement made you hit your head on the ground again, vision blacking out for a moment. Through the haze of fighting to stay conscious, you felt a hot, stretching pain as he entered you. Forcing your eyes open, you were met with the mischievous patchwork grin staring at you, he looked like he had just played a harmless prank on you. Like he wasn’t violating you.

The curse’s movement inside you was slow at first, filling you up carefully as if he were measuring your insides. You could feel the head of his cock pressing up against your cervix, a shiver running down your spine at being filled completely. No human would be able to do this, the strange image of just how large the cock inside you was filling your mind.

You watched his smile grow wider as he slowly pulled out of you. It almost felt pleasurable, the way the thick cock felt inside of you. That is until you felt the stretch of the head against your entrance. The curse paused, not pulling all the way out of you yet. For a moment you thought he was finished, but that thought was only able to linger in your mind for a few seconds before he slammed his cock back into you.

The curse’s thrusts had gone from soft exploration to a violent attack, each one coming right after the other. You choked, having trouble even breathing as you felt the head of his cock slamming up against your cervix. The pain of being fucked so hard by something far too big made you feel sick, but the way his cock rubbed up against your walls felt good. If each thrust didn’t make you want to cry, you could have at least pretended to enjoy it.

His pace increased, the speed he was fucking into you made it impossible to try and get away. You didn’t even have time to think between thrusts. Trying to make it bearable, you attempted to focus on the drag of his cock inside you, it did feel good, the way you could feel the veins against your walls. It wasn’t enough though, you couldn’t take your mind off of the pain.

As quickly as it started though, he froze inside of you. Something had caused him to stop and you had no idea what it was. Was someone here to save you? Had you been found? Part of you didn’t want to be found like this, no one needed to see just how weak you had been.

The curse rammed his cock into your cervix again, pressing in and not moving away.

“It seems I’ve gotta go now, the veil is gone, you’re so much fun though I hate to leave you like this. Next time I catch you, I’ll finish this. Don’t miss me too much, cutie!” As soon as he was finished speaking, he ripped his cock from you. You felt something inside you tear with the violent motion. His hands left your ankles, though you wanted to get up and fight him, you were unable to do nothing more than curl in on yourself.

You watched through teary eyes as he picked something up. Had he been carrying something when you first encountered him? Your brain was too scrambled to remember any details.

“Oh right, you’ve seen me! Don’t want you remembering too much,” He giggled to himself, again his speech making you think of a child.

He stepped over you, his shoes right in front of your face. You didn’t have time to register the sharp kick to your temple as you felt consciousness leave you.

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