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Time to be annoying with my art!
I drew this while spending the holidays with @semirampant-dwickery and his family. This was one of my fav pages from that sketchbook, just fun practice with eyes and limited color palettes and using two characters of mine I love seeing together :3
お茶ガール / Tea Girl - Eng Translation
コウ feat 初音ミク - listen here
Well translating a song where the whole theme is homophonic wordplay into another language isn’t the easiest thing ever... but I tried ><
all bold are words/sayings that use the kanji ‘茶’ (tea ‘cha’)
茶茶茶 茶っかりさん お隣へどうぞ 耽美な遊びは 茶茶茶 茶ーミング・ワン そんな宵越しの茶はいいの
tea- tea- tea- shrewd one here sit next to me, your aesthetic play sure is a tea- tea- tea charming one that kind of overnight tea sounds good
Eavesdropping
Chapter 2
---
Continuation of the Matt Murdock prompt...
From last time:
“Excuse me.” A finger taps on yours and Matt’s shoulders. Both of you turn around, and you can feel Matt’s grip tense up on your arm which causes you to tense up as well. “Did I hear you say that you can hear a person’s heartbeat? From a distance?”
“Not necessarily,” you trip over yourself in answering an earn a raised eyebrow from the man. He has his hands in his pockets and assumes a casual presence.
“Tell me the truth,” he says.
“Ye-,”
“Yes, but we were talking about me. I can hear heartbeats from a distance,” you butt in. Matt’s grip tightens on your arm, and you can tell he’s worried.
“Can you?” The man cocks his head in interest.
“Yes,” you insist and hold on to Matt’s hand.
“Right.” The man tugs on an earlobe for a moment. “Interesting. Tell me your name.”
“It’s _____.”
“Not a bad one. Kilgrave’s mine. Alright, tomorrow morning at 10, meet me back here. I can’t stay,” you notice some traces of blood on his face like he’d been in a fight, “but I’ve got more questions for you. Now, get out of my way.”
---
You twist your fingers together and look around with an air of forced calm. At ten o’clock, the sun is barely peeking over the edges of the buildings of Hell’s Kitchen. You stand against the wall just mere feet away from where you and Matt ran into Kilgrave the day before. Scanning around, you can catch a glimpse of someone on the roof of a building across the street, and you feel relief in knowing it’d be Matt keeping watch.
Not too far away, with his nose buried in a newspaper, you can see Foggy lingering and keeping an eye on you. Somewhere, Karen would be situated with a cop on hand should something drastic happen.
You gulp.
A glance at your phone tells you it’s minutes past 10, and you release a long exhale and lean against the brick wall. Maybe he wouldn’t be show. Maybe he forgot. You feel the ropes of Kilgrave’s persuasion begin to slip away, and with that, you move away to join others on the sidewalk.
Or so you were thinking. You manage to bump face-first into someone’s chest, and hands fly up on your shoulders to steady you.
“Sorry,” you manage to blurt out before looking to see who it is.
Kilgrave.
“You should have heard me coming,” he says, his fingers tapping on your shoulders.
“You’re late,” you argue, stepping away so his hands fall off.
“That was a test. You weren’t even aware of me coming.”
“That was a stupid test,” you say and back up even more, fervently casting glances between Foggy and Matt’s position. They aren’t there.
“Even now I’m starting to doubt your superior listening skills.” Kilgrave rubs his nose. “Heartbeats, then. You couldn’t hear mine before I showed up?”
“All heartbeats sound the same. There’s no distinction between yours and anyone’s.” You’re surprised you can come up with that excuse on the spot, but the thoughtful nod from Kilgrave says that he believes you.
“Sounds reasonable enough,” he says. “You have a mobile on you, yeah? Hand it over.”
“Mobile? You mean phone?” You dig into your pocket and pull out your phone to hand to him.
“You know how pretentious you sound saying that?” He takes your phone and presses some button.
“Do you know how pretentious you sound with just that accent alone?” The retort alone earns you a pinched look on his part. After a moment, he gives you back your phone, and you look through it to see that he’s added a number to your list of contacts. “What’s this for?”
“To keep in touch. I can’t hang about today- too much to do and very little time to do it in.”
You become wary, choosing your next words carefully as to not arouse any suspicion. “What exactly are you doing?”
It doesn’t work. He narrows his eyes at you and evaluates your person. “Nothing you need to be concerned about. Now, I can tell that there is more to your super hearing than you’re letting on; therefore, you’re going to await instructions via mobile. I can’t stay, but I can’t let a potential slip away.”
“Potential?”
He makes shushing noises and flaps his hands. “Don’t worry about that. Whatever instructions I have for you, follow them.” Then he spins his head around as though he’s on the lookout for someone.
“What are you- oh!” The wind is knocked out of you when someone runs into you and carries you off, but not without some stumbling in the beginning. Someone’s hoisted you onto their shoulders, and you’re left staring at Kilgrave and watching as he disappears into the crowd with a look of surprise.
When he’s gone, you finally take notice of who’s got a hold of you. The image of their butt doesn’t help, so you try to hold yourself up to look at the face of your captor.
“Foggy!”
His face is all red from exertion, and it doesn’t take long for him to turn into any alleyway and collapse, dropping you onto the sidewalk. You fall onto your hip and yell, and Foggy is on his knees panting hard.
“Foggy?”
“You could probably stand to lose some weight,” he bites out. It’s clear he isn’t thinking, but you puff out your cheeks anyways and prepare a remark when someone lands next to you.
“Never tell a girl she could lose some weight, Foggy. That’s an automatic death wish,” Matt says, offering you a hand in your general direction to help you up. He’s dressed in his Daredevil outfit.
“Ah, you’re right,” Foggy groans and works on standing up with an apologetic look towards you. “I’m sorry, ____, that was out of line.”
You bark a laugh as the smarting pain starts to ebb from your hips. “Alright, that’s fine. Did you two actually plan an escape to get me out of there? Because that could have been executed better.”
“It was dangerous to leave you there with him any longer than necessary,” Matt explains. “We need to get out of here before anyone gets curious.”
“I don’t think it would have mattered,” you say softly, stopping Matt and Foggy in their tracks. They turn back towards you, and you’re holding up your phone. “He’s made a way to stay in touch. I don’t think we’re out of the woods, yet.”
“Damn,” Foggy frowns and rubs his neck.
“Damn indeed,” Matt agrees. “Let’s go.”
prompt: baking cupcakes with Kilgrave. Fluff and mischief ensues
---
There is flour covering a good amount of your once-clean kitchen. Some egg-yolk dribbles off the island counter and onto the wood floor, and a cat seems to be licking off some milk that had spilled not too far from the island. Kilgrave, who is wearing a flour-encrusted apron, is leaning against the fridge and rapidly trying to mix whatever is in his bowl. An egg shell appears to have lodged itself within the confines of his hair.
You drop whatever bags you were holding and let out a soft snort. This gets the attention of Kilgrave, and you start laughing a bit more upon seeing doughy bits on his face.
“What’s going on here? And what have you done to the kitchen? ...Is that flour on the cat?”
Kilgrave bites his lips and sets the bowl on the counter next to him to wipe his forehead with an arm. “For the record, she decided she’d roll around in the flour when the bag exploded, so it’s no fault of mine.”
“What a helpful kitty,” you coo as the purring feline makes her way into your arms, and you brush off some flour as best as you can before setting her back down.
“She gets in the way.” Kilgrave tries to dust off his apron with no success.
“You didn’t answer my question, dear.”
Kilgrave blinks. “Right. You weren’t meant to see any of this. I wanted to bake some cupcakes, but it appears I’ve gone wrong somewhere.”
“It looks like you went wrong everywhere,” you point out, wiping some flour off the microwave. “What’s the occasion?”
“Just wanted to surprise you,” he mumbles, shuffling his feet like a little boy who only wanted to please you.
“Aw,” you say, feeling your insides melt a little. “Well, why don’t we see if we can’t make cupcakes together? Let me go change, and I’ll be back out.”
He looks back up with a smile and a nod, and you retreat for your change of clothes.
When you come back out, Kilgrave’s in the process of cleaning the flour off of whatever he can get at. At least the cat is clean again.
When you ask for the recipe, Kilgrave points you to the tablet he had been reading off of. You blow away any flour dust and examine the recipe.
“I have to ask: did you get all the ingredients out first before getting started?”
Kilgrave turns to look at you with a guilty look and a dishcloth in hand. “I... might have overlooked that idea.”
You grin at him with a tongue poking out the side. “That might have helped.”
He puts down the dishcloth and wipes his hands on his apron before realizing how dirty it is and tears it off. Setting it aside, he starts moving around to get out all the ingredients for you while you look over the instructions.
“Was the oven ever pre-heated?”
He gives the oven a pained look. “No.”
“That’s okay!” You step over to him and give his face a light pat. “We’ll get this done together, yeah?”
Kilgrave relaxes, draws you in close, and gives you a smile. “Yeah.”
You give him a chaste kiss that he barely has time to register and spin away to look at the tablet. “You don’t need milk for this recipe, put that away. We’re using water.”
“Bossy,” he replies just loud enough for you to hear, and you playfully swat at him.
“Look who’s talking!”
In no time at all, you’ve gotten a cupcake mix together. Kilgrave peers over your shoulder with his arms circling your waist. You’ve done most of the work, but he is happy to stand by and watch you do it all. With the first batch of cupcakes heating in the oven, you have some time to relax.
Looking down at the leftover mixture in the bowl, you decide to swipe a bit onto your finger and reach up behind you to smear the mix close to his nose. He sputters indignantly and backs away to rub off the offending stuff. Once he realizes what you’ve down, he pins you with a look that makes you grin, squeal, and start running.
Minutes later, splats of cupcake mixture covers parts of the kitchen. Panting, you’ve collapsed on the floor to rest against the splattered fridge. Cupcake mixture has landed on your face, in your hair, and definitely onto your clothes. The same goes for Kilgrave who’s currently pulling out the finished cupcakes from the oven before falling onto the floor next to you.
You bump his shoulder with yours and laugh. “Well, there won’t be another batch of cupcakes because of that.”
“Well,” Kilgrave drawls in that accent you’re so fond of and drapes an arm around you firmly. “I think it was worth it.” He wipes some mix off of your cheeks with a long finger and sticks it in his mouth.
“Kilgrave, the eggs-!”
“Bah, don’t worry. That’s just some story made up to scare you into not eating uncooked food,” he trails off with uncertainty as he reflects on his words. “Well, that sounds wrong. But these are okay. There’s a very low risk of getting salmonella.” With that, he licks your cheek for emphasis and causes you to dissolve into giggles.
“Kilgrave...!”
prompt: imagine where Kilgrave and the reader fall out of love- angsty
---
Kilgrave shows up. When you hadn’t been in touch in almost a week, he shows up with flowers. Your roommate let him in, and from the railing in front of your room, you watch him enter into the living area with a creased forehead.
“What are you doing here?” You come down the stairs with reluctance. Your roommate puffs her cheeks and leaves for her room to give you privacy. She gives you a look of sympathy as she passes.
“I came by to see how you were doing. You haven’t answered any of my texts or calls,” Kilgrave says, shuffling his feet once you make it down into the living room. He then hands you a bouquet of daisies when you’re close enough. “I got really worried.”
“Thanks, I think.” You look down at the flowers and aren’t impressed.
“Are you still mad at me?” You fidget with some of the petals, and he sighs. “If I had seen that man, I would have stopped him in time.”
You enter a flashback that’d leave you staggering when it fades away, but you’re transported to that moment of wet concrete and a burly man at your back.
You had been out with Kilgrave on the usual date, but you weren’t feeling it. He didn’t seem to notice any lack of conversation on your part which just furthers yours feelings on the whole matter. There wasn’t anything there anymore. It’d been time to move on.
It didn’t help that Kilgrave hadn’t notice that you had been taken away from his side. He’d kept talking about something ridiculous, complaining about something or other.
A moist hand had been on your mouth to keep you from making any noise, and a knife that glinted in the faint light hovered in front of your face. The one yelp you eventually let out earned you a slice on a shoulder. It was all that was needed for Kilgrave to notice something was amiss, and he came in time to command the guy to let go of you. But that moment was all you needed.
“But you didn’t. You didn’t notice anything happened until I yelled. What if I had died back there?” You blurt out, steeling yourself against the flash of memories and tighten your grip on the flowers to keep from saying anything else.
“I’m sorry. But you’re fine now, aren’t you? You’re still alive, and your shoulder should be well on its way to healing.”
“I might have torn it again,” you mumble, finally holding the bouquet limp by your side. It takes him no time at all to move your shirt to see your shoulder, but the wound is still covered with the bandage. A doctor suggested leaving it like that to help prevent anyone or anything else from tearing up the stitches again.
You don’t like that he touched without asking you. You smack Kilgrave’s hands away, and he turns away while covering his mouth.
He spins back around to you. “What did you do? _____, I know you’re mad at me, but you can’t be running off and ignoring me while getting hurt. You can’t do that.”
“Since when did you start caring?” You square your shoulders. “You can’t be telling me what I can and can’t do. We’re past that now. You lost your control.”
He draws a breath and releases it before speaking. “_____, you know I care about you. After four months, you should realize that. Why do I feel like you’re looking for anything to chase me away right now? Can you answer that?”
You look away. Kilgrave runs a hand through his hair.
“I like you, _____. I like you a lot. I can see us having a future together, but it won’t happen if you don’t talk to me. You’ve been through a traumatic ordeal, I get it. I’m truly sorry that I didn’t become your knight in shining armor and rescue you.”
Your throat tightens, and you can definitely feel your blood pressure getting higher. “You’re right that you weren’t a knight in shining armor. Somebody else took care of that for you.” It’s slightly true. Doctors and whatnot. You only want to get a reaction out of him.
You can see a tic developing on him, and his hands are clenching.
“So there’s somebody else on the side, now? _____, have you been seeing somebody else? Are you cheating on me? Is that why you’ve been acting like a bitch? Don’t lie to me, I know you’ve been distant for a while, now.”
“No.” You briefly close your eyes and will your tears to go away. Instead, you ended up wiping at them. “I just had someone else help me the moment I needed someone. A doctor. If you’re going to be like this—if you’re going to call me that—you can leave. You’re free, and you no longer have to bother with me. Get out.”
He throws his hands up and leaves, storming down the stairs and closing the door with a resounding slam. A sob hitches in your throat as you look at the daisies in your hand—they must have been the cheap kind from a grocery store—and toss them in the nearest trash can.
prompt: imagine where Kilgrave and his S/O get a puppy, and Kilgrave gets frustrated because the puppy is too energetic and not yet trained
---
The bed bounces with the weight of a small animal, and you watch as a puppy excitedly licks the ear of one grumpy Kilgrave. His head is barely covered by the sheets, and his dark hair is sticking out everywhere. The perfect target for a very enthusiastic puppy who likes to chew on things.
“Ow! Ow- no- stop!” Kilgrave flies up into a sitting position and holds the puppy out at length. The blankets fall away from his bare chest, and all you can do is laugh at the sight of a sleepy Kilgrave holding up a wriggling puppy. When he hears you, he looks at you with pursed lips. “Get a puppy. What a brilliant idea- nonononono!”
With horror, you watch helplessly from the doorway as the puppy tinkles onto the bed from his height, and some of it gets on Kilgrave. His face pales, and he darts out of bed and lets the puppy back onto the floor. The pup merely wags his tails and yips.
“Kilgrave...”
“It’s peed on me! And the bed! We’ll have to throw everything out!”
You scoop up the soft pup and breathe in its fur before answering Kilgrave. “You agreed on getting one. Stop panicking, we can get everything cleaned up and right again. It’s not the end of the world. Come on, look at his face. How can you be angry?” You put on a cutesy voice and hold the puppy up so that Kilgrave has to look at the big eyes.
Kilgrave looks and sighs, dropping the ruined sheets onto the floor and stepping over them. “We’ve got to get him trained.”
“And we will. We just got this little guy. It’ll take time, but we’ll get there,” you assure him. Kilgrave stops in front of you to run a hand over the puppy’s head only to get his hand licked and lean in to give you a kiss. You pull away much to his dismay. “You smell like puppy piss. Go shower.”
He takes a deep breath and throws his hands up while muttering, “If I wasn’t awake yet, I am now.” Then heads off towards the bathroom.
prompt: Kilgrave and the reader are married and the reader surprises him by announcing she’s pregnant on thier first wedding anniversary
---
“You’re sure you don’t want to go out? It’s our first anniversary and all that,” Kilgrave asks, leaning against the doorway leading into the kitchen. He’s watching you scramble around to cook even though you told him to stay away until dinner time. It’s actually very hard for him to stay away from you, even when circumstances like work demand it. Having gotten married exactly a year ago, the romance between you two is just as strong as it had been almost since you’ve met.
“I told you that I’ve got something planned,” you insist and shoo him out. He makes it hard for you and leans on you slightly when you try to forcibly move him. You can hear the grin in his impish laugh and jokingly swat at him. “Go on, get out.”
“You’ll have to bribe me,” he says, turning around on the spot so quickly that you take a step back in surprise. When you realize what he’s asking for, you return the smile and stand up on your toes to meet him halfway in a kiss. It’s only when a timer goes off that you go back to freaking out and waving him out.
---
“Unusual sort of dinner tonight, darling,” Kilgrave points out upon sitting. You’ve set out the usual glasses of wine, but your glass has sparkling grape juice in it instead. A couple of candles have also been lit, setting a romantic atmosphere for the evening in the penthouse where you have a view of the city below.
“Thought we’d try something different. Grab the ribs?” you ask upon bringing out some baby carrots. If Kilgrave were as clever as he makes himself to be, you think he’ll put two and two together soon. He gets up and leaves to fulfill your request.
“Baby carrots, baby corn, baby back ribs? Everything’s so... little,” Kilgrave comments, coming out with a plate of ribs and putting them on the table.
You take a sip from your glass, avoiding his eyes with a shrug. He doesn’t think much of it but comments on how everything looks good anyways.
Until 5 minutes later:
His eyes go big, and his mouth in formed in an ‘o’. For a moment, he makes wild gestures that include pulling at his hair and getting up.
He approaches you like you’re some amazing piece of artwork. To him, you may as well be.
Kilgrave repeats, “Baby carrots, baby corn, baby back ribs. _____, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
At this point, you’re holding back both laughter and some tears. Part of you worry that he’ll reject the pregnancy and insist on getting rid of the baby. Part of you hope that he’ll be thrilled to be a father. You nod slowly.
He immediately drops to his knees in awe, pressing one hand against your lower stomach as though expecting to already feel something there.
“I’m only 3 weeks along,” you say, placing your hand on top of his. “I just found out at the doctors yesterday.”
“3 weeks,” he whispers and looks up at you with wonder.
“Is that alright?”
“Is that alright?”
“You keep repeating things.”
“Sorry. Yes. Yes, of course it’s alright!” he says emphatically and pulls you in for a tight hug, then releases you like you could have been snapped in half. “Sorry! I shouldn’t have done that with you being pregnant.”
“Kilgrave, I’m pregnant, not fragile. I’m okay.” Reliefs floods your system, and you hold on to Kilgrave’s shoulders for support despite already sitting.
“Okay? Okay,” he laughs, running a hand down the length of your face. “Oh, _____. Pregnant. We’re going to be parents. I’m going be a father!” At his last statement, Kilgrave looks back down at your stomach and leans in close. “I promise, you’ll not be treated the way my parents treated me. I promise. No harm will come to you, ever.”
You end up having to sit still while Kilgrave utters soft words to the unborn child within you. But it’s okay, you don’t mind.
