#melting

[svdcvnt]

Melting

Anime: Wicked City directed by Yoshiaki Kawajiri

[ceroro]

50 frames, no undo, trace onion skin

[komorebigold]

Meltdown

I hate having meltdowns. I always feel like a child, but also like I am dangerous. I end up hurting myself if I'm not careful and there's a fear that if someone is too close I may hurt them too. This felt really good to draw. Not just because I explored a new rougher style but it felt like I was letting some of the emotions out.

[cyberpsychostims]

eoscandles

[doodledrawsthings]

like salmon, i briefly return to Nuclear Throne, once more.

[necroaoba]

⠀ ㅤ⠀ ㅤ⠀ ㅤ 🪷⠀⠀(𝒛)⠀⠀𝑐omo una florecita⠀⠀୨୧ ᅠ ᅠᅠ ᅠᅠ ᅠᅠ ᅠᅠ ᅠᅠ ᅠᅠ ᅠ⊹⠀⠀Quiero todo tu 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛⠀⠀𓂃

Recursos...♡

[twistiraki]

🎀Flufftober Day 27 – Wearing His Scent🎀

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

TᗯIᔕTEᗪ ᗯOᑎᗪEᖇᒪᗩᑎᗪ

Characters JadexReader

Warnings None

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

The week had been nothing short of exhausting.

Ever since that Savanaclaw student had decided you were his newest obsession, you’d barely had a moment’s peace. He wasn’t rude enough to be openly hostile, just insistent, pushy in a way that felt more like hunting than flirting.

At first, you’d laughed it off. The second day, you told him no. By the fourth, it was harder to find a place where he wouldn’t appear.

He’d compliment your hair. Your smile. The way you walked. And most disgustingly the way you smelled.

“You smell incredible,” he’d said once, leaning far too close, voice low and smug. “Drives me mad, you know that?”

You’d pushed him away, muttering something sharp, but it hadn’t stopped him. He always came back.

By the end of the week, you were running out of places to hide.

That was how you found yourself at the Mostro Lounge late in the evening, long after most students had gone back to their dorms. The quiet blue light from the aquariums washed the room in a soft glow, and the sound of rain against the glass dome was soothing.

Finally, peace.

You slipped into one of the empty booths and let your head rest on your hand. For the first time that day, the tension began to fade from your shoulders.

A familiar voice broke the quiet.

“Good evening. It’s rare to see you here so late.”

You looked up and there was Jade, sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows, vest buttoned, every bit the picture of calm refinement. His mismatched eyes gleamed faintly in the low light.

“Ah… sorry,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. “I didn’t mean to bother anyone. I just needed a place to breathe.”

He tilted his head, that polite smile never faltering. “You’re no bother at all. In fact, I find it rather charming that you think of the Mostro Lounge as your refuge.”

You smiled faintly. “If I order something simple, will you promise not to upcharge me for sitting here?”

His laughter was quiet, but soft. “I’ll try to restrain myself. What will it be?”

“Just… water,” you said. “Nothing fancy.”

“Of course.” He inclined his head slightly. “Please wait a moment.”

He returned a few minutes later, but not with water.

The glass he set down shimmered faintly, the liquid inside a pale turquoise, bubbles catching the light like stars.

You frowned. “That’s not water.”

He folded his hands behind his back. “No, it isn’t. But it’s better suited for your mood, I think. On the house.”

You blinked. “Since when does Octavinelle give anything on the house?”

A shadow of amusement flickered across his face. “Since tonight. Humor me.”

You sighed, but took a sip and blinked. The drink was smooth, refreshing, lightly floral with a hint of citrus.

“Okay,” you admitted, “this is good.”

“I thought it might be.”

He didn’t leave. Instead, he took a seat beside you, not across the booth, but next to you, close enough that the faint scent of sea-salt and cool stone clung faintly in the air between you.

You raised a brow. “Aren’t you working?”

“I am,” he replied mildly. “But I find myself on break just now. I hope you don’t mind a bit of company.”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Sure. It’s… nice not to be alone.”

He smiled. That calm, polished smile that always seemed to hide a dozen thoughts behind it.

“You seem troubled,” he said, voice smooth as glass. “Would you tell me what’s weighing on you?”

You hesitated only a moment before speaking. The words came easier than expected. You told him about the Savanaclaw student, how persistent he’d been, how exhausting it was to keep avoiding him, how even now, you felt uneasy walking alone.

As you spoke, Jade said nothing. He listened quietly, chin resting lightly on one hand, expression unreadable, composed, but faintly sharpened at the edges.

When you finished, he finally said, “How very distasteful.”

You frowned. “That’s it?”

He turned slightly toward you, the light catching in his mismatched eyes. “Would you prefer I offer to make him disappear?”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m teasing,” he said softly, though the faint curl of his mouth told you there was a grain of truth buried beneath. “I simply don’t appreciate such rudeness. Especially toward someone I…” He paused delicately, choosing his next word with precision. “...value.”

You felt warmth rise in your cheeks. “You’re too kind.”

“I assure you, kindness has little to do with it.”

He said it so smoothly you barely registered how close he’d leaned until the fabric of his sleeve brushed your arm. The movement was natural, fluid, but the space between you was gone before you noticed.

You laughed lightly, trying to ease the tension. “You’re sitting awfully close, Jade.”

He glanced down at your hands resting on the table, his voice calm as ever. “Am I? How careless of me.”

And yet, he didn’t move away.

As you talked, his proximity remained, subtle touches, soft brushes, gestures that felt innocent enough in isolation but built an unspoken rhythm between you. When you reached for your glass, his fingers brushed yours. When you laughed, his hand lingered briefly at your back as if steadying you. When you turned to face him, his shoulder met yours, casual, effortless, intentional.

You couldn’t tell whether it was flirtation or simply his way of disarming you, but somehow, you didn’t mind.

By the time his break ended, you felt lighter. Laughing, relaxed, maybe even a little giddy from the warmth of it all.

“I should return to my duties,” he said, standing smoothly. “I trust you feel a little better?”

You nodded, smiling. “Much. Thanks to you.”

“Good,” he said softly, eyes glinting faintly. “That’s all I wanted.”

It was late when you finally left the Lounge. The rain had eased into a fine mist, cool against your skin. You were halfway down the hall when you heard the voice you dreaded.

“Well, well. Look who it is.”

You froze. The Savanaclaw student leaned against the wall again, a grin spreading across his face.

“Thought you could hide from me here? You know, I can always tell when you’re around.”

Your stomach twisted. “Please, just……”

He took a step closer and stopped.

His grin faltered. A strange look flickered across his face, confusion, then discomfort, then something that almost looked like fear.

He sniffed the air once, sharply, and stumbled back half a step. “What… the….?!”

You blinked, bewildered. “What’s wrong with you?”

He opened his mouth, closed it again, muttered something under his breath, and turned on his heel. Gone. Just like that.

You stood there, heart racing, too confused to even call after him. The only thing out of the ordinary was the faint, unfamiliar scent lingering around you, cool ocean air, spiced cedar, faint traces of something deep and mineral.

You recognized it instantly. Jade.

You brought your sleeve to your face, and your pulse jumped. The scent clung to you. Light, subtle, but unmistakably his.

Your lips parted in disbelief. “…You sneaky eel.”

The next evening, you found yourself back at Mostro Lounge.

When Jade appeared at your table, his usual serene smile was already in place.

“Ah,” he said smoothly. “Back so soon. I trust your evening stroll was more… pleasant this time?”

You folded your arms. “He ran away.”

Jade’s smile didn’t falter, but his tone softened with amusement. “Did he now? How curious.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know why, would you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He rested a hand over his chest in mock innocence. “I assure you, I simply provided good company during my break. If my presence left a lingering impression…” His gaze dipped meaningfully toward your shoulder, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth. “…then I won’t apologize.”

You felt warmth flood your cheeks. “So you did it on purpose.”

“Perhaps,” he said, leaning slightly closer, his voice a low hum. “Let’s just say I wanted to ensure you were left… undisturbed.”

You tried to scowl but couldn’t hide your smile. “You could’ve just said something.”

He laughed softly. “And miss the chance to prove a point so elegantly? Perish the thought.”

Then, with gentlemanly precision, he bowed slightly and offered his hand.

“Still,” he murmured, eyes glinting, “if ever you feel unsafe again… you need only come find me. I’ll be certain the matter is handled…. quietly.”

The way he said quietly made your heart skip a beat.

And as he straightened, brushing a stray droplet from your sleeve, you caught that same subtle scent again, cool, oceanic, distinctly his.

You didn’t mind in the slightest.

Flufftober Masterlist