#and if so. so what? does it matter? if they don't notice? is it even real if they don't notice?

[lohotine]

``Oh, You Liar!``

Multi Char Fic x AFAB! Reader (NSFW)

Ft: Shadow Milk, Pure Vanilla, Affogato

CW: Cookiefucking(?) Cockwarming, oral, fingering, blowjob

°•《 AN: oh dear, did I miss valentines?》•°

MINORS DNI! NSFW FIC BELOW CUT

Shadow Milk Cookie;

oh, how you hated him! you knew he was mean, but you never thought it was to such an extent...

not letting you move, even though he was so close to your g-spot. he said he'd let you once he was finished going over some paperwork, but... he's taking forever! it's just not fair.

your shift your thigh ever so slightly. (you've been good for how long now? don't you deserve a little friction?)

the jester notices it instsntly and clicks his tongue in response. "ah ah ah- didn't I tell you to sit still?" he looks at you with lidded eyes, a faint expression of some sort of twisted amusment present through them.

"shadow milk.. you're s'mean to me... you're taking a long time on purpose-"

he grins at you, pressing his forehead to yours. "it'll only take longer if you keep distracting me like this... c'mon, it'll be over soon. just behave for a little while longer, yeah?"

hah! a little while longer my ass! knowing him, he'd probably continue stalling until your breaking point... the thought made you pout.

"what's that look for?" he asked, only to be met with your stubborn silence.

how unfortunate... he prides himself on getting reactions out of you, you know?

he presses a hot kiss to your collar bone, lightly sucking on the dough.

just what did he think he was doing? was he expecting you to sit still during this as well?

"mmph- shadow milk--" you grind your hips. (you just couldn't help yourself! not when you've been stuffed full for nearly an hour now...)

he places a hand on your knee, preventing any further movement. "that wasn't permission to move."

you can't help the whine that escapes your lips. "you're not being fair..."

he scoffs at the statement. didn't you know that he wasn't a fair man? "punishments aren't supposed to be fair. now stop moving, 'kay? i promise i'll be done soon..."

Pure Vanilla

"you... ah- said you were inexperienced!" you muster through hot breaths, hair sticking to your flushed face.

he spread your already soaking folds with two fingers, thumb resting on your bud. "mmm, but I am..."

one of your legs rests on top of his shoulder. he presses a kiss to your thigh, slowly moving closer to the spot where you actually want him to be.

(he sure was taking his time... there's no way he didn't know what he was doing to you!)

he places a kiss right on your cunt, and you can feel his hot breath at your entrance. still, he doesn't give you what you want.

"hurry up already..."

pure vanilla can't help but chuckle. "so impatient..." though, he obliges. he quickly darts his tongue in and out of your clit; its only purpose to get you even more on edge.

and before you can even say anything else, he pumped both fingers in, setting a steady pace. oh- and the way his tongue circled around your clit;

once... twice.. fuck! it drove you insane.

your mouth fell slack, unholy moans falling from your lips. tufts of his golden hair became tangled in your fingers as you grasped it.

of course, he didn't mind. it was only a sign that he was doing his job right. "ngh- pure vanilla-" you managed to choke out between moans.

he looked up at you, mouth never leaving your pussy. "mmhm?" the sound only worked as extra stimulation as it vibrated throughout your body.

what were you even asking for again? you couldn't even remember over how good the blonde was licking you up...

oh, it didn't even matter anyway! so long as he kept sucking on your cunt, you couldn't care less.

Affogato

having you here between his legs... doe eyes looking up at him-

it turned him on much more than he'd like to admit. your tongue licking the slit of his already leaking tip...

he sucked in the cold air through gritted teeth. he wasn't supposed to be getting so worked up over this, but the intoxicating feeling of your mouth on him was a pleasure he found much too enticing.

"you feel so fucking good, baby," he'd say, more labored breaths spilling from his lips.

how strange... the royal advisor was never a person to use such foul language. how did you manage to pull that from him?

you took more of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his length and wrapping your hand around what couldn't fit into your mouth.

he grinded his shoe against your clothed entrance, trying to give himself at least some edge in this interaction...

he swore that he held more power over you, and he desperately wanted to prove that fact to be true.

"come on, don't you want me to touch you? don't you want my fucking hands on you?"

he became so desperate like this... so much for holding power over you! oh well, he was always a bit of a liar anyway.

each flick of your tongue sent another shiver up his spine. god, how were you so good at that?

he grabbed a fist-full of your hair and pulled you further onto his dick, gaining a gag from you.

oh how he loved the tears that picked the corners of your eyes!

though, he loved your mouth on him so much more...

[silenzahra]

Welp, my beloved @bberetd... You asked for this 😌💖

✨ Bliss ✨

Mario places his umbrella over his shoulder while extending his other hand, imitating the demure and modest pose of his princess. He smiles, feeling very comfortable in his new, custom-made pink dress, although he can't help wondering how Peach manages to keep the crown from falling off her head. He can only admire her even more for her elegance and grace.

He turns around and the skirt of his dress, as well as the petticoat he’s wearing underneath, get tangled around his legs. When he stops, his brother, for whom Daisy's outfit fits like a glove, including the crown, stands in front of him with a radiant smile on his lips. With his fake freckles glistening on his cheeks, Luigi winks and gives him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

“You look great, bro!”

“Really?” Mario's smile widens and he holds the skirt to lift it a little and extend it to the side. “Does pink suit me?”

“Wonderfully!” Luigi assures him, applauding him. “You look stunning! Besides, you seem to be quite comfortable, and that's the most important thing.”

Mario laughs and rubs the back of his neck, feeling a bit shy at his twin's compliments. He’s glad that Luigi has encouraged him to finally take the plunge and, together, try dressing like their princesses, and not leave one single detail out. While his younger brother has always been more open about wearing dresses, skirts, heels and all kinds of typically feminine clothing, he, too, has always felt an unusual curiosity about such garments. It was only a matter of time before Luigi managed to convince him to finally try them on.

However, just as he was about to praise his twin's outfit too, the door opens at that very moment. The brothers turn their heads at the same time, startled, and only then does Mario remember that they had arranged a meeting with the princesses this afternoon to have tea together...

Only they had counted on having time to change back into their classic overalls first.

Even though he isn’t looking at him, Mario can sense from his brother's tense posture that he feels as caught out as he does. And it’s no wonder, since Peach and Daisy, standing in the doorway and carrying shopping bags, have been rendered speechless and are watching them in silence. The first one seems bewildered, completely taken aback, while the second one clearly judges them with her gaze as she examines them from top to bottom.

As if they had rehearsed it, the twins swallow at the same time. Their shoulders brush as they begin to back away, cowering, intimidated. In a reflex action, Mario brings his hands to his chest and begins to bring his index fingertips together and apart over and over again, while desperately searching for something to say...

But Daisy is faster than him.

“Hey, Peach,” she begins, nudging her, “don't you think it’s funny? We came to visit the brothers, and it turns out they have a couple of portraits of us in the hall...”

Peach lets out a low giggle and immediately covers her mouth with her hand.

“Indeed. What a surprise!”

“And hey...” Daisy starts.

“Don't you think that...” Peach continues.

“We look amazing!”

The princesses shout the last sentence in unison as they raise their arms above their heads, startling the brothers. Then they both pounce on them and wrap their arms around them. Mario notices the delicacy with which Peach hugs him so as not to ruin his dress despite her excitement, but he can't help but notice how Daisy, without any hesitation, hugs Luigi with such energy that she almost takes his breath away.

Suddenly, the brothers find themselves receiving praise and admiration for their beautiful dresses, their crowns, their gloves, Mario's parasol, Luigi's freckles and even the earrings adorning their ears. Feeling increasingly confident and relaxed, the two start posing, each copying a princess: Mario is delighted to represent the graceful and elegant Princess Peach, and Luigi is, no doubt, enjoying every second he gets to pretend to be his daring and sassy Princess Daisy. In fact, it is he who places his back against Mario's and brings his hands to his chest with his index fingers joined and extended, adopting one of the famous Charlie's Angels poses, which Mario hastens to join.

The girls then remember that they have just been shopping and hurry to rummage through their bags. Peach takes out a striking feather boa in a shade of blue somewhat darker than her earrings and, without a moment’s hesitation, places it around the plumber's neck. Mario smiles and adjusts the garment, thrilled to share this moment with her and to have her support.

In turn, Daisy takes out an enormous purple boa, her favorite color, and approaches Luigi with a solemn step. As if she were awarding the prize for the most beautiful princess, Daisy places the boa around the neck of Luigi, who has stood up straight and closed his eyes, very much into the role. Still, as soon as Daisy finishes, Luigi gives her the most radiant and brightest smile, his cheeks standing out so much that his fake freckles almost disappear under his eyes.

Next, the princesses go to put on their dresses too, as they were wearing more comfy clothes for their shopping time together. There’s always clothing for them in the brothers’ home, as they’ve stayed for the night many times already, so in the meantime the boys prepare the table for tea. Luigi has also baked a cake that looks so delicious that it’s taken all Mario's willpower, and a few scoldings from his brother, not to sink his teeth into it before time.

Soon, everyone is sitting around the table, the brothers in the center so that they can show off their beautiful dresses and their flashy boas. Daisy is even more talkative than usual and can't stop looking at Luigi, her eyes filled with a mixture of pride, affection and amusement that makes Mario smile. His little brother, knowing that he’s loved and admired, also laughs and chats non-stop, which makes Mario extremely pleased.

And he feels elated when he notices the quick looks that Peach gives him between sips, not only of approval, but also of mutual understanding and, like Daisy, affection and pride.

Despite his blushing, Mario feels his heart fuller with infinite bliss than ever.

He can’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon.

always follow after your role models

[mingoooossii]

Y. Ga Min headcanons.

Kdrama: study group

Warnings: fluff, messy writing??(not exaggerating) not really structured

A/n: word vomit basically. i had LOT of thoughts so yeah it's messy (i wanted to write a lot more but i stopped myself) 🫥 I hope it's readable atleast but anyways I love ga min he's so adorable. also tagging my pookie @slytherinshua

Words: 755

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Before dating.

• you two started off as just classmates (one that he admired)

• you were pretty, kind AND smart!!!

• how could anyone not like you??

• though that admiration soon grew into something more

• the way his heart tightens a little whenever you meet his eyes

• or the way he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on you even during lessons

• he couldn't figure out why (might even conclude that he's sick)

• i feel like he wouldn't even realise that he has a crush until Se hyeon points it out (bless his soul)

• *short circuits*

• at first, he wouldn't know what to do (he's only been interest in studies his whole life, don't blame him-)

• but i can see him be more shy around you after that

• he tries to be discreet but fails

• exposes himself without even realising it 😭 (are we surprised)

• he's just a cutie, okay?

• also wouldn't think of the possibility that you might actually like him back???

• you most definitely confessed first (after all the hints you've dropped, you got impatient)

• surprised that you actually like him back (but is also very happy)

• he'd want to be the absolute best boyfriend to you 🥹🥹

⊹ ࣪ ˖ In a relationship.

• after getting together with you, he'd want to be romantic

• the kind that makes you swoon at every step

• takes inspiration from mangas (we're talking about GRAND gestures, it's just so amazing to him)

• but eventually gives up after a disapproving talk with Se hyeon (and an even more disapproving glance from Ji wu)

• he's trying his best okay :((

• but he's actually more charismatic than what he gives himself credit for

• the type to make you shy with his actions which he doesn't even consider as romantic

• unintentional rizz??

• notices every little thing about you

• you got a haircut? he notices and compliments you

• you got a new hair clip? he buys you several cute ones saying it would fit you

• this also applies to his memory btw

• he'd remember the little things you'd say (even if it's not that important to you)

• because it's important to him

• also crazy eye contact

• yes he'd be shy but nothing beats his eye contact, it's just so important to him

• doesn't realise how much it flusters you 🫠

• loves affection

• hugs, kisses, headpats whatever it is he LOVES it

• but he does has a soft spot for headpats or just you simply running your hand through his hair

• he has insanely soft hair so it kind of became your habit to touch his hair whenever

• the first time you did it, he was kind of baffled

• but after that he began to love it and even crave it (your hands were just so comforting)

• so please give him headpats!! (or else he'll stare at you with his boba eyes until you do, yes this is a threat)

• though he, himself is somewhat on the shy side with affection, he loves to hold your hand

• like i said earlier, he finds your hands warm and comforting so he feels at ease whenever he holds your hand

• he also likes it when you compliment him

• definitely the type to think back on it before giggling to himself (he's so cute help)

• study dates are an absolute must!!

• loves it when you help him with his doubts (definitely stares at you with his shiny eyes when you explain something)

• he gets to spend time with you and study at the same time, it's perfect to him.

• he's not really the type to get jealous

• though he does have his moments, he trusts you so that's what matters

• but he won't hesitate to step in if he sees that you're uncomfortable in any way

• tries not to get into a fight but absolutely will if it's necessary

• will introduce you to his mom pretty early on in your relationship

• he'd be a bit worried about it, thinking she's gonna disapprove

• though she wasn't exactly ecstatic when she found out, she wouldn't express it

• but she'd end up liking you after seeing that you were a positive influence (and you made him genuinely happy, so that's all that matters to her)

gen taglist: @mayflyfr

[oceansoul001]

Couple of random thoughts regarding KCD2 last conversation with Hans.

[Spoilers!!!]

1. You can have this conversation either still in Suchdol (after talking to Sir Hanush) or in the Devil's Den post credits. They don't differ beside last topic ("What are your plans now?") that is removed if you choose the latter.

2. Generally there is not much of a difference between romance and non-romance paths. Romanced Hans tells you everything that the non-romanced does, just adds a few unique sentences. You can probably notice switch of tone in "What are we going to do about the wedding" topic, for the romanced lines: "I'm not sure what to do... after what happened, you know...? I mean... me and you... I suppose we'll just have to wait and see how things turn out..." I find this reaction very believable given the situation, I recon they both need some time to sort things in their heads, as the ongoing siege/bringing reinforcements didn't leave them much time and space for reflection. So I am very okay with them not discussing the topic further at this point. And, I know this might sound strange, but I also really like that there are no love confessions at this point, I greatly dislike it when games throw them at me after literally one night spent together with someone.

BUT. Directly after this part comes the non-romance part where Hans worries about his bride being ugly and then proceeds to talk about naming his son after Henry, and I don't know... I mean, yeah, we all are aware of the fact that Hans most probably still has to get married, and have an heir, and it does not matter at all whether something happened between him & Henry, or not, but is this really the thing he would casually say at this moment...? Okay, maybe he would, it's Hans. But what is even more bizarre to me is my Henry, who is happily babbling as if nothing has changed at all, even though like a minute ago he was this awkward mess thanking Hans for "the encouragement". So what I'm trying to say is, I would prefer at least for Henry to act/respond differently in the romanced version and remain more awkward throughout this convo. But maybe I'm overthinking this! 😅

3. Another difference in the romance path occurs when discussing Hans' injury, as only in this version Henry asks if he can take a look at the wound later, and I think it is so sweet. Very minor detail, but I love it. ❤️

4. The thing that I definitely don't like is asking Hans about his talk with Hanush, and Hans responding with "You don't need to know everything", like??? My guy. Please. You've just shared with me probably the most intimate and secretive moment OF YOUR LIFE, and now you don't want to tell me some shit about Hanush, even though it is not even a secret and like everyone in Rattay already knows (your own words!). I don't get it at all, why in the romance path this still requires a speech check and why is Hans so weird about not telling me "everything", even though mere hours ago he was ready to die from grief if I don't come back 😭

5. Speaking of dying, romanced Hans can say the following at the beginning of your conversation: "I'm glad nothing happened to you. That would have killed me", but it only happens if Sam does not survive. So not in my game, as I would never leave my brother behind. Hans can also admit that he was jealous of Sam, which for me was very clear during the game, but also under the condition that Sam does not survive.

6. Last, but not least - I wish we could have another conversation with romanced Hans after couple in-game days pass, after we both have had a chance to collect our thoughts. Nothing groundbreaking, just something short and sweet, and you know, maybe get the possibility to share a kiss in our room at the Devil's Den when we want... I know it might sound greedy, or silly, after all we've just got this perfect, almost unreal relationship at all, but nothing can stop me from dreaming. 🥹

Happy to hear your thoughts on the subject! ❤️

[rusalka52]

Tell me I'm pretty

part 1 || part 2

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

summary: You have to deal with the aftermath of last night's concert and Sirius is being a dick about it. The universe also seems to hate you.

cw: bully (???) Sirius

3.4k words

A/N: This was meant to be 2 parter initially but I think it will end up being at least 4 parts! I tried to stick as close to their canon personalities as I could so that is why the Marauders are being assholes here lmfao. I hope everyone is enjoying this so far and don't forget to like, reblog, shout the update in the town's square etc. etc. !!!

Once Dorcas shoves you through the bathroom you’re met with the mess you left all over the marble top counters the night before. Black eyeshadow smudged in the sink, Barty’s black nail polish smeared on the mirror, the hair straightener inside the shower, your mascara, foundation and three of your brushes scattered on the floor and counters. Your eyes shift to the mirror to check your reflection and instead of seeing your own face staring back at you there is a post-it note stuck on the surface.

“You better clean all of this up!

-Dora & Cas :p”

You rip the note off the mirror, crumple it and toss it in the trash. You’ll clean it up later. As your eyes focus on your reflection you notice your smeared lipstick and smudged eyeshadow, you should’ve bothered to remove your makeup last night instead of just flopping on your bed and passing out. After washing your face and doing your skincare routine, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You start inspecting your neck for any marks. The left side of your neck is clear and as you turn your head on the right, pulling down your pyjama shirt slightly you gasp. No… surely not you have you to be imagining it. You attempt to rub the hickey off your neck hoping that it’s somehow makeup but no such luck. Thankfully the mark will be covered up by the collar of your school uniform but that doesn’t matter, you’ll know that it’s there. And, of course, he will know as well, which makes it a hundred times worse.

After you do your makeup, remove your pyjamas and put on the Slytherin girl’s uniform you look at yourself in the mirror once more. Maybe he’s right. The uniform does look a bit too prudish. No! You can’t let him get in your head this much, he’s just a stupid, horny boy who doesn't know what he’s saying.

As you open the bathroom door to the empty dorm room you walk down the stairs towards the common room where you meet Dorcas and Pandora, chatting on the couch. Their eyes focus on you, looking you up and down as if they’re scanning you for any clues as to why you were acting so weird.

“Did you roll up your skirt?” Pandora asks, holding back a laugh. You blush and briskly walk away towards the door.

“No, my legs just got longer.” You mumble with a huff as the two girls follow you out of the dungeon and head towards the Great Hall, laughing loudly behind you.

Once you reach the Great Hall for breakfast you walk immediately towards the Slytherin table not even bothering to glance over to the Gryffindors.

The moment you sit down you start shoveling scrambled eggs on your plate. You almost don’t notice Regulus plopping down next to you until he speaks.

“Why is Potter telling everyone that will listen that you snogged my brother last night?” You snap your head towards him and your fork falls out of your hand and clatters against the plate.

“What?! Where did you hear that?” You hoped that you sounded nonchalant but your widened eyes and skittish movements betray your true feelings. Regulus raises his eyebrow quizzically.

“Umm, Potter was telling some of the Gryffindor students while we were practicing this morning and I overheard. Had to share the field with these barbarians. Again.” He complains. “Anyway, I’m sure he was just imagining things… right?” He has now turned his attention fully on you.

“Reggie… Please don’t hate me…” You reply quietly looking back at your plate once again.

“No… I can’t believe that you, of all people here, woul-” What was surely about to be a strict chastisement was interrupted by a smack on the back of your head.

“Oi, dickhead, you ditched me last night!” Barty yells in your ear, sitting down in the seat next to you. By now nearly everyone at the Slytherin table was staring at you.

“What are you on about, Barty? We returned back to the castle together, you liar! Or were you so drunk that you can’t even remember who carried you to your common room!” You turn to look at him exasperated, shifting your annoyance at the situation to your brunette friend.

“Oh yeah? Well what about the 30 minutes you spent in the bathroom with Black?” He fires back.

“It wasn’t even 30 minutes and shouldn’t you be at the Ravenclaw table? This isn’t even your house!” You shove him away, attempting to deflect from the matter at hand and he blows a raspberry as he heads to his table.

“SO YOU DID SNOG HIM?” Regulus whisper-yells at you with a disgusted look on his face and you bury your head in your hands.

~

“No way you actually lost your wand, mate, you really need to focus more.” Remus shakes his head, lightly chastising his friend for his forgetfulness.

“Well, Rem, I didn’t exactly lose it per se.” Sirius tells the group of boys, pride evident in his voice. James just grins, he didn’t get a chance to blab to the other Marauders about what happened the night before since he had to run to Quidditch practice early that morning and he was on the edge of his seat ready to tell everyone.

“Let’s just say that I know very well where it is. Or, dare I say, with whom it is.” He says looking directly at you from across the Great Hall. Peter and Remus follow his gaze turning 180° in their seats, making it painfully obvious that they’re staring.

“You’re joking…” Peter turns back to look at him, mouth agape in shock.

“Oh Pete, you know I am always… serious!” James can’t help but burst out laughing at his friend’s lame and overused joke.

The group of boys didn’t really know you that well. They did notice you hanging out with Regulus and with the girl Marlene told them she was going out with, but that’s all they knew about you concretely, the rest were all just assumptions. That you were a blood purist, a pompous and pretentious Slytherin that didn’t care about anyone but herself etc. etc. so when Sirius told them that he managed to find you of all people at a concert and get you to kiss him they were justifiably shocked. Remus, however, had gotten the chance to work with you on a potions project and got to know you a bit during your 4th year. Admittedly, it has been nearly three years since the last time you two interacted properly but he recalls you being really well-mannered, polite and helpful throughout the duration of the project. You both talked about shared hobbies you had, such as reading and listening to music, your plans for the winter holidays, what you had asked Santa to bring you for Christmas and so on. He really didn’t get the “mean blood-purist” vibes from you, but you could never be sure in a time like this, so he didn't dare speak up against his friends. The only time he remembers you being slightly mean and upset was when Sirius and James came up to your table in the library while you were in the midst of completing the assignment, closed the book you were reading in your face, hissed at you, mocking your house, and whisked Remus away to go partake in whatever shenanigan they had come up with that time. Your eye roll and huff was definitely warranted in that situation, he thought.

~

You made sure to keep Sirius’ wand securely and secretly stored in your bag. You planned on giving it to him after breakfast in the school corridors, there was no way you would approach him in front of everyone! You glance over at the Gryffindor table towards the “Marauders”, a dimwitted and ridiculous name for a dimwitted and ridiculous bunch, you thought. As luck would have it, Sirius was already looking your way, making sure to throw in a quick wink before continuing his conversation with Potter. You look back down at your miserable scrambled eggs, you lost your appetite now.

After a bit you notice the Gryffindor boys exit the Great Hall and you wait a few minutes before following behind them, making up some excuse to your friends that you wanted to finish an assignment. Someone as perceptive as Regulus of course connected the dots that you were following his brother immediately and he just shook his head, going back to drinking his tea. He doesn’t have the time or the energy to deal with this.

Once you spotted the boys heading towards the exit of the castle, most likely going to the Black Lake to study or chat, you made your way to them more briskly. Once you were within ear shot you cleared your throat.

“Excuse me, Black.” You said keeping your voice firm. They all turn to face you and James and Sirius step forward, leaving the other boys behind them, no doubt a silly intimidation tactic.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the little snake, what can I help you with, love?” He says, smirking down at you, not that he is much taller than you. This boy was truly absurd, not even twenty-four hours ago he was whimpering and begging you to kiss him and call him pretty and now he was trying to intimidate you. You could have laughed in his face if it weren't for all the other nosy students who had paused their conversations and turned their attention to the exchange happening in the middle of the corridor.

“Can we talk, privately please?” You whisper trying to keep your conversation away from prying eyes and ears.

“Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of my mates.”

“Merlin Sirius, don’t make a scene! You already know what this is about.” You roll your eyes.

“Look, love, I’m not really interested in you, alright?” He says loud enough for the students in your vicinity to hear. You widen your eyes and your mouth hangs open as Potter laughs next to him. You can’t believe the gall of him. What an unbelievable twat! You ought to break his wand in half but that would get you into trouble so instead you take a deep breath trying to stay calm. You don’t need to stoop down on his level.

You step closer to him, so close you’re almost chest to chest, you reach into your bag and discreetly pull out his wand. You shove it in his chest and mumble so only he can hear “Don’t do this shit again, it’s not funny.”

Instead of grabbing his wand and letting you be, he reaches up and firmly grips your hand that’s holding the wand against his chest, pulling you even closer than before.

“Oh sweetheart! Thank you so much for bringing me back my wand after last night, I really appreciate it!” He exclaims in a loud voice so everyone in the corridor can hear. He successfully managed to humiliate you. You attempt to pull away as you hear the other students starting to whisper and James sniggering behind him, but his grip on your wrist is too strong. His other arm reaches up to your collar pulling it aside slightly so that only he could see the bruise that had formed on your neck. His eyes flicker from your hickey and they meet your eyes as his smirk deepens. He finally releases your arm, pushing you back lightly and he walks away.

“You’re a dickhead, Black!” You call out as you stomp away in the opposite direction, ignoring the heat rising to your neck and face.

~

The next day, a Sunday, you decided to ignore everything that had happened in the past two days. You had homework and classes and exams to focus on, not some boy that doesn’t know how to behave.

After rising from bed at noon, ignoring the questions shot your way from your dorm mates and their probing to clean up the mess in the bathroom, you get dressed and make your way towards the library. Now that is a place where the “Marauders”, save for Remus of course, wouldn't be caught dead in. You find an empty table in the back of the library near the windows, lay out your things and begin studying. It could not have been more than ten minutes of revision when you hear someone call out your name. You look up from your Charms assignment to see Sirius Black approach you while shoving a bit of tattered parchment paper in his bag. How did he even find you back here…

You watch him with a neutral expression plastered on your face as he sits directly in front you.

“What do you want?”

“Godric, I just want to study!” He says, obviously mocking you. “Can’t a boy focus on his schoolwork?”

“Well, go sit somewhere else.”

“No. Last time I checked you don't own any seat in the library.” He teases, opening his Transfiguration textbook. You roll your eyes and sigh. Had you not already started working you would have packed up and changed seats, not like that would have any effect, as he would have surely followed behind you. You decide to ignore him for the time being, seeing as he was quiet and genuinely working on his assignment, save for the occasional holes being burned at the top of your head whenever he’d stare at you, attempting to catch a glimpse of your face.

After a couple minutes of working silently you feel a kick under the table. You won’t give him the satisfaction of eliciting a reaction from you. Three seconds go by when he kicks you again. Harder. You drop your quill.

“What?!” you whisper-yell, not wanting to alert Madam Pince.

“Next Saturday, Hogsmeade, you and me. It’s a date”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Telling.”

“Then no.” You ignore the hurt that flashes in his eyes, you must be imagining things.

“Okay, then I’m asking.” He is starting to sound desperate again. A complete juxtaposition from how he behaved yesterday in the corridors.

“The answer is still no, you’re a twat.” You return to your essay.

“Please, I swear I am being genuine with the date” He lowers his head, keeping his eyes firm on you, trying to get you to look at him. “And I’m sorry for how I acted yesterday. I panicked.” He whispers the last part reaching out to gently hold your hands, obviously not wanting anyone to hear him apologising lest his punk-rock persona be spoiled.

You rip your hands away from his, quite harshly, and start packing your things. You’ll study in your dorm. It’s obvious that he’s not being… well, serious with this “date”. If you do end up going and he spots any of his dumb friends out you’re certain that he will go back to his regular antics and making you the butt of all their jokes. Or, Merlin forbid, ditch you to go get drinks at the Three Broomsticks. There was absolutely no way you were going on this date!

~

“Mate,” Sirius says as he opens the door to his own dorm, “she said no!” He flops face first on Peter’s bed since it was the only clean one in the entire room.

“Well, what did you expect, Sirius? After the way you talked to her yesterday…” Remus replies not even bothering to lift his head from his homework.

“Give the boy a break he’s had his heart broken by a cruel and unjust girl! Who’s side are you on Moony?” James questions him.

“Yeah, Moony!” Sirius echoes, muffled from the pillows he’s buried his face in. “I even apologised!” He whines.

“I’m sure you’d know all about heartbreak, wouldn’t you, James?” Remus muses with a giggle.

“Oi shut up!” James exclaims tossing a crumpled paper ball on Remus' head.

“Why don’t you try asking her again tomorrow?” Peter asks the boy that’s still laying on his bed.

“If I just keep asking her, she’ll keep saying no, and I’ll end up like Prongs! No, I need to try a different approach…”

~

Your Monday begins like any other. You wake up at 7 and head to breakfast at 8. Then your first period of the day starts; Transfiguration with professor McGonagall and the Gryffindors. And you haven’t done your essay. Again. Last week you didn’t have time to finish it due to all the projects and exams assigned by other professors but this week you truly forgot about it. You did all the other assignments, just not the essay. You were surely going to get house points deducted and maybe even detention if the universe hates you.

The moment the bell rings professor McGonagall transforms back into her human form.

“Come on students, get out your assignments and textbooks, there is no time to be wasted, we are already behind schedule by one whole unit!” She exclaims as she starts walking down each row collecting the students' assignments.

“Miss, weren’t you supposed to hand in last week's overdue essay as well?” She stops right in front of your desk looking down at you with her piercing green eyes. You hesitate to look up at her, already growing anxious. Once your eyes meet hers you gulp.

“Professor, I am truly so sorry, I genuinely forgot to complete it. Please forgive me and I promise to bring it in next week.” You plead with her, fidgeting with your nails and biting the skin on your lips, nearly making it bleed.

“Miss, this is the second week in a row you haven’t turned in your essay. I have been far too lenient with all of you!” She states looking at all the students.

“5 points from Slytherin, and I’ll see you on Saturday, miss.”

“But it’s a Hogsmeade we-” She silences your protest immediately with a sharp look and heat rises to your cheeks and ears in embarrassment.

“Now, if anyone else has not done his or her assignment they will join her in detention next Saturday. No ‘ifs’ or ‘buts’ there is no time for that!” She states, scanning the room. Suddenly, from the upper left corner of the classroom a student raises his hand.

“Minnie, I haven’t done the homework either!” Of course it was Sirius. You could’ve sworn, however, that you saw him doing his Transfiguration homework yesterday at the library.

“Mr. Black!” McGonagall exclaims. “5 points from Gryffindor for that wretched nickname you keep using, and, of course, detention for you as well on Saturday. You all ought to be ashamed of yourselves. The rest of you hand in your assignments at the end of the lesson, I have already lost enough class time dealing with these two babbling idiots, I will not waste anymore!” She returns back to her desk and you sink lower into your seat in humiliation, making eye contact with Sirius behind you, who just smirks in pride.

“Padfoot, why did you do that? You have your essay right here.” James mumbles in his friend's ear hoping that McGonagall doesn’t hear him and removes even more points.

“James! Shhh! You’ll spoil my plan.” Sirius shushes his friend. James furrows his eyebrows not understanding and Sirius shakes his head.

“If we get detention together on Saturday, that’s basically a date, since we’ll spend time together and she will have to talk to me!” Sirius reiterates. “Merlin, no wonder you’ve barely made progress with Lily after six years, you really don’t think things through, mate!” He says, teasing his friend.

A deep thoughtful look crosses James’ face. “Huh…”

~

The lesson went by painfully slowly and you thank Salazar when the bell rings, signifying the end of class. You gather your things and walk out the classroom already forgetting the stunt Black pulled an hour or so ago.

“See you on Saturday, love, it’s a date.” Sirius whispers in your ear. Speak of the devil. You snap your head towards him and he makes sure to wink at you from over his shoulder as he heads towards the Charms classroom. You groan. You were dreading Saturday.

tags: @gastroentred @beekeepingageissome @is-it-better-to-speak-or-todie

Likes and reblogs help a lot! If anyone wants to be added to tag list for the third part just let me know!!

Requests: open :D

[beef-brisket]

Adam glanced at Lucifer. He didn't like how intensely the king was looking at him. Maybe it's this damn outfit because there's no way he could recognise him- or maybe he had a bad lunch. It is Hell after all.

Adam: ...So, uh... how's... your brat?

Lucifer: She's fine... found out she had her... "facility manager" was spying on me and the exorcists during this last extermination.

Adam felt the colour drain from his face. He doesn't know who Charlie's facilities manager is, but either way, if the truth gets out, this could be bad. Really bad.

Adam: O-Oh... that doesn't sound... legal?

Lucifer scoffed: I don't know if legal is the right word... but it's definitely a no-no. The fact my daughter can't trust me to watch over the army is... unfortunate, to say the least.

Adam shifted uncomfortably. He tried to even his breathing out so Lucifer wouldn't notice anything. And so he won't be sick.

Adam: Who's the facilities manager? And why does she even have one? There's only... what? Three sinners that are part of her program?

Lucifer chuckled: One. The other one died... amd ended up in Heaven.

Adam shuddered, remembering the snake sinner that managed to claw his way up to becoming a winner. No one's too happy about that.

Adam: Oh, him... yeah, Sera isn't... too keen on him.

Lucifer: I could imagine... and her facilities manager is that Bambi reject...

Adam: I- Bambi? Like... the movie?

Lucifer laughed: The very same. He's uh... the radio guy you axed. Good swing, by the way. Too bad you didn't kill that bastard.

The first man smiled. He would laugh, but his stomach was still deciding whether it's going to reject the tea or not.

Adam: I tried, man. Fucker disappeared, so I didn't get another hit in.

Lucifer: Yeah... that fucker pops up whenever you don't want him. I just... I don't trust him around Charlie. I don't understand his intentions.

Adam relaxed a little as their conversation drifted from the extermination to this guy called "Alastor", he sounds like an interesting character, to say the least. But Adam couldn't understand why Charlie would even need him, let alone trust him. But, that's her bullshit to worry about.

Taking another sip of tea, he noticed Lucifer staring at him again.

It's probably this stupid uniform.

Adam: ...I guess you want some cleaning done, huh?

When Lucifer didn't respond, Adam gripped his cup tighter. He couldn't read the kings expression, and he's not sure if he's great full about that.

Lucifer: ...No. no, not today. Not after you got sick from the... apple. In fact, I was thinking we settle in for the night. It's... hard, to leave Heaven, and come down here. I noticed some of the exorcists were starting to get a bit unwell by the end of their stay, so I'm guessing it'll only get worse for you. Especially if you're not fallen.

Adam: F-Fallen? No, I'm... I'm still an angel... I just... don't know how long it'll stay like that. Hopefully, until I leave here- and can go back upstairs, but... I'm not sure. Sera won't be happy when she finds out an archangel is gone-.

Lucifer blinked: You're an archangel?

Adam: ...Yeah?

Lucifer could tell believe this. They made THIS guy of all people an archangel? He shuddered, thinking of their baby. Having the Devil and an archangel make a child is extremely dangerous. The child could possibly be stronger than an anger angel or Lucifer, for that matter. That's assuming it survives until it's birth.

That's if Adam survives.

Adam didn't like Lucifer's silence, and the man looked... panicky: You... didn't know?

Lucifer: Uh- n-no, but that's great! For you! Yeah... great- uh look. How about... you get yourself cleaned up- if you can, and I'll... uh... make you some lunch! Can't have a moldy apple spoil your appetite! Don't worry, I'll leave some normal clothes out for you- not that you don't look great! Just... I'm sure a shirt and pants would be more comfortable.

Adam: ...uh... sure.

Lucifer jumped up to his feet and brushed his suit off: I'm assuming you know how to use a shower? You used one during the exter- I mean-! Shut up, Lucifer! I'm getting you confused with... someone else! What was I doing...? Lunch! Head to the kitchen when you're all squeaky clean!

The first man stared at Lucifer as he pretty much ran out of the room. He wasn't even going to process anything after agreeing to a shower, Adam didn't want to give himself a headache.

Leaning back, Adam poked his stomach: You going to let me shower? Or make me suffer?

Adam the Exorcist

@beef-brisket

Lute looked up wide eyed as her commander was giving his speech and there was a little sinner coming up behind him.

Lute: SIR BEHIND YOU!?

Adam stopped and turned, he gasped and grabbed Nifty by the neck and threw her at the hotel crew and Lucifer, glaring at the lot of them.

Adam: THIS ISN'T FUCKING OVER!!

Lucifer: I think it is bud, you should go home.

Adam glared more, he was leaving because he wanted to not because this little fucker told him to. He waved his hand giving them the signal that extermination day was officially over.

Adam: Exorcists fall back!

Lute: But ..... Sir -

Adam: NOW Lute!!

She nodded and glared at the King and princess of Hell along with her friends. They all flew back to heaven and Adam flipped Lucifer off before he was fully back in.

Adam groaned when the portal closed, they had never had it go that wrong that fast. This wasn't going to end well.

-

Adam: Retire!?

Sera sighed she knew Adam wouldn't take this well.

Sera: Yes Adam, it's time you step down as the commander of the exterminators.

Adam: Is this about what happened!? Because it won't happen again.

Sera: You're right, it won't.

Adam sighed: But Abel? My boy is too soft to do that job.

Sera: There's no one else to do it. You nearly died down there we....... We can't lose you.

On one hand he understands where she's coming from, but he was meant to do this! The only reason things went bad was because Lucifer showed up.

Lute just HAD to kill the princess's pet.

Adam: I don't want him to die.

Sera: He won't. We will be doing a more regimented training routine. You deserve a rest Adam.

Adam: ..... Yes Sera.

She smiled and held out her arms, Adam hugged her. She was only doing this because she loves him, he knows that. Doesn't make it suck any less.

Adam went back to his room to lay down, he didn't realize how tired he was until he did.

There had to be a way that he could still be an exterminator.

Some how.

[lucabyte]

On autonomy, and what it means to be Obliged to Help.

Bonus:

[dootznbootz]

Odypen definitely and equivalently adore each other BUT I weirdly can't see them as the type to actually say "I Love you".

They still definitely vocalize their love for each other but it's more so in "My Joy", and "Extraordinary Woman", "Strange Woman/Man", etc. And very cheesy lines (both say some cheesy shit in the Odyssey, and he definitely does in the Iliad as well. "Joy like a drowning sailor seeing land" bit???)

I could see "I adore you" but even then, that's probably during very specific moments but the actual "I love you"??? I just typed it just now for fic shit and... It weirdly just didn't feel right and I don't know why. 😅

Idk maybe it's kind of because I see them as over the top in ways, they love wordplay and riddles and I think they'd almost think "...That's not good enough >:( " about it??? I don't know???😂

[theophagie-remade]

People who fancy themselves intellectuals on this hellsite love to condescendingly bring up fandom issues to minimise them or go on about whataboutisms when the question simply is do you think people deserve to be told they ought to die or be abused over fiction and fantasies or nah

[daz4i]

how and why is there discourse about whether or not certain queer identities exist/if people should be allowed(???) to use them. why is "people know their own identity better than you ever could, and they're the only one who get a say on what they are" such a tough concept to grasp

i think if you find yourself offended by the label someone uses (especially if they're a stranger) or think it invalidates your own, it's a good idea to look inside yourself and question why that may be. more often than not, it's a result of insecurity or uncertainty of your own identity (or many other things, but i won't make a whole list here). whatever reason it is, until you resolve it, you shouldn't take it out on people for having an identity you don't understand

many have said it before but it's worth saying over and over. infighting only helps our oppressors. conservatives don't care if you're a cis gay or a xenogender aegosexual aplatonic lesbian, they hate all of us either way. trying to fit in by going for people who are easier targets for them isn't gonna help you, it'll just alienate you from your own community, and you're never gonna please them. the momentary rush you get from hearing you're not like "one of /those/ gay people" is not worth it and is gonna do more harm in the long run, i assure you

also, it is important to me to say this, but having some less than nice kneejerk reaction caused by confusion about an identity you don't understand doesn't mean you're a bad person or anything. as long as you aren't mean to that person, and you take a second to think smth along the lines of "wait a minute, this isn't any of my business" after having said reaction, you're good 👍 a lot of reflexive reactions we have to things are ingrained into us simply by. well. living in a society 🤡 and you're not terrible for having those thoughts. it's your actions that matter, and your second thought (the "wait, why did i just think that?") is more defining of your actual character and morals than your reflex. i know that having thoughts like this, even tho they're unwanted, can very easily make one spiral, so it's important to me that whoever needs to hear this knows this doesn't make you a bad person 🙏 you're good, keep taking actions to be good, accept other people even if you don't understand them, and you're on the right track :)

[sondersil]

i've been feeling a little weird lately. not quite real. reality seems fuzzy.

my head, ah. it feels like it's been stuffed into a pillow. everything is soft and muffled in this strangely oppressive (but comforting) way.

i keep having this thought that "i've been such a different person lately". i think i have. i've.. not quite felt like me. it feels off. it feels strange. but in a good way.

it feels like i'm gently floating along a river and, despite the usual pitfalls of depression (a snag of a branch or the nibble of a fish), it's felt fine.

the water is luke warm and normally i would be shivering, but i am too tired to shiver. it's that point where your body stops convulsing and gently eases into the cold. where you're glad that it stops trembling, because it became exhausting.

i just keep noticing it. (the change). i'm painfully aware of it sitting on the edge of my consciousness. it's gently waving at me. it doesn't feel malicious, but it feels out of place. (thinking about it in tangible terms like a being helps).

i feel light in the way that i feel when i no longer care about something. when i can let it go. send it off into the fog. let it fade. that sounds positive, but it's just been nothing. neither good nor bad. it's indifference.

and maybe there are some things i have stopped caring about, or have finally (subconsciously) decided to just leave and accept. "it is what it is". and for once, it just is.

the.. ache that usually accompanies that statement isn't there. it's not the *sighs hopelessly, wishing it could be different*.

i reckon i'm not making sense but my thoughts rarely do and i don't care. my brain is tired and i think it's done thinking. it's acknowledged that it is done thinking.

it's allowing for a strange sort peace. i feel calm. i wouldn't exactly call it content (but isn't it content, in a way? it is), but it feels like i could fall off the face of the earth right now and be fine. be okay. or feel nothing at all.

i could.. become a drop of water and join the puddle as a whole.

i'm buried beneath the leaves and i am happy to stay here.

it's closure.

i don't know why it feels that way or what caused this and i'm sure it'll stop feeling that way soon (hello darkness, my old friend, anyone?), but this is.. fine. for now. it's.. ah. certainly better than the alternative.

i'm sure the need and the will to struggle will arise again once the anxiety and the fear settle back in, but it could stay like this for all i care.

and i think i just realized that maybe i've just been basking in the feeling of fear leaving my body for the first time.

it's literally felt like i've been able to dislodge the metaphorical fear-stick that is constantly up my ass. just a little.

who knew not feeling afraid for once would feel like a dream? like unreality? all soft and fuzzy.

it'll be back something fierce. be nicer if it didn't.

i'd even give it a kiss goodbye if that meant it would leave me be.

anyways.

[rumeysawrites]

Thank you so much for the tag!

Since I'm preparing Arwyn's profile and Meissa is next, I'll do them for this one. The lines in green are Arwyn's and the ones in pink are Meissa's.

1. Are you named after anyone?

"Not my first name. However, my middle name "Ninthalar" comes from my long passed grandfather who had been the ruler of Fiannille during the time of the Soul Collector's invasion on Meras."

"Not after someone, as that is looked down on in Eliri. But I'm named after a star. Specially a star in the Orion constellation of the Tirian skies."

2. When was the last time you cried?

"Well... That is quite a difficult question. May I not respond, please? (It was last night, or the morning of that day. Or maybe an hour ago. You got the picture-)"

"Last week when I read a truly heartbreaking scene in one of the books I was reading."

3. Do you have kids?

"No. I don't. But I don't know if I will havve to in the future if I were to return to nobility of Fiannille."

"Absolutely not! I'm a temple-maiden. A nun-to-be, who's sworn to chastity in the pursuit of knowledge and wisdom!"

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

"Only when it seems necessary for the situation. Otherwise, I feel like sarcasm can be rude."

"Sometimes. I wish to use it more around the other members of Team Space when they grind my gears, that is if they didn't intimidate me as much."

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

"Unbelieveably, it is quite difficult to answer, mainly because it is my main role to analyze, interact, and connect with people. And what I recognize first regarding people, depends on what I'm mainly looking for at that moment, as vague as it may sound."

"Their clothing style and the way they carry themselves. It tells me all I need to know about them. Where they may be from, what their status might be, and even their possible danger levels to me."

6. What's your eye color?

"Dark green! I always imagined them to be a reflection of the forests around Fiannille. And as a little boy, I even used to believe that was where my eye color came from."

"Indigo. I was told it's one of the rarest eye colors in Eight Alters."

7. Scary movies or happy endings?"

"Um, excuse me for my lack of knowledge, however; what is a movie? Regardless, I prefer more pleasent resolutions to stories of all form. It does give me the hope that our story might end in such a way as well."

"Neither. I prefer to read non-fiction books. And I'm not sure what a movie is, but I don't think I'll prefer it to books."

8. Any special talents?

"I-I'm not exactly certain if they count as "talents" per say, however I have been trained in diplomacy, as well as spellcasting with the Essence magic.:

"I don't think so. Unless you count research skills or fast reading as talents. Well that and possibly some space magic that runs in my family, but I'm not trained in or can use it well yet."

9. Where were you born?

"Fiannille, the beautiful kingdom of the Merasian forest elves. Ah, I miss it very much. And the entire world of Meras for that matter."

"I was born in Eliri, specifically the town of Rillia where the Temple of Stars is located. It's the most peaceful place in Yugenri and I wish I had a chance to stay in Eliri and the Temple of Stars. Spending my days reading, studying, watching the starlit skies, and organizing ceremonies and festivals. But now, I can't stay in one place... Have to travel a dozen planets a week... Almost facing death on every step. Yay... Fun..."

10. Do you have any pets?

"Back in Fiannille, I had my horse, Mirbali. In my travels, I did also adopt a variety of forest animals or strays, but I couldn't keep them for long due to well, uh... Circumstances... I still do have Kassin though. I do realize he's a fairy, and a very clever one at that, thus I consider him a companion and friend instead of a pet. But some of my team members nicknamed him "Arwyn's Personal Bug", and I worry that he's taking it seriously sometimes."

"No. I can barely takke care of myself. I can't imagine owning and taking care of a pet."

11. What sort of sports do you play?

"Quite an interesting question. I was trained in and still practice archery and horseback riding, even though I prefer and specialize in finer and more elaborate crafts such as magic and diplomacy."

"No. My life until I joined this space-faring team, I lived with as little physical activity as possible and I really liked it."

12. How tall are you?

"I'm 2'95 Beras, I believe it equals to 177cms or 5'10 feet in Tirian measurements. I apologize if it is miscalculated."

"2'66 Beras or 160cm or 5'3. I do know we Elirish are kind of short for the most part."

13. What was your favorite subject in school?

"I used to enjoy many subjects in my academy days. Magic, culture, languages, healing, herbalism, animal studies, history, Merasian geography and people, and more. But my favorite class was the Lore class in which we learned about legends that have shaped Meras to the world we knew and loved."

"Astronomy. Closely followed by history and science."

14. What iis your dream job?

"That is quite a deep and wonderful question. As much as I may have plenty of dreams, I believe I do not have a singular dream job. I simply want a job where I can help people while sticking to my beliefs, and thankfully, both my professions thus far have been providing me that opportunity. Although, being a "space hero" as some call, might be too chaotic to be my dream job, if I have to admit."

"A scholar, which I was in the process of becoming one if it wasn't for the whole "being called upon by my goddess ancestor while some dangerous people were looking for me" aspect that brought me here..."

Thank you so much for the tag again! This was very fun and let me explore the differences between the nerdiest two members of Team Space!

Now for the tag list: @illarian-rambling @avalordream @dearunreliablenarrator @the-ellia-west @daishitheprofessionalfool @the-golden-comet @storyteller-kara @distantflickering @distortedsense @willtheweaver @paeliae-occasionally @thecomfywriter @the-letterbox-archives @satohqbanana @leahnardo-da-veggie @kaylinalexanderbooks @aalinaaaaaa @azz-writes @vesanal @ominous-faechild @heycerulean and an open tag!

OC Interview Tag!

tagged by both @aalinaaaaaa and @bardic-tales ! thanks ^^

I’ll do Zenith and Mikaya from TGS for this one :D

————

Are you named after anyone?

“Nope! I named myself.” “I am unsure.”

When was the last time you cried?

“Pshh, crying isn’t my thing.” (Like two days ago) “… soldiers like I do not weep.” (Also like two days ago)

Do you have kids?

“No, and I don’t want any either.” “I do not.”

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

“What do you think?” “Sarcasm makes little sense to me. I prefer to avoid it.”

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

“How easy they’ll be to manipulate.” “Where they are from, be it the Underside or the Floating Isles.”

What’s your eye color?

“Bright red! The parts that are white for you are black for me.” “… depends. Normally they are a pale gold.”

Scary movies or happy endings?

“What’s a movie? Sounds long. And tedious.” “… I do not know what a movie is, nor do I entertain myself enough to know what I prefer.”

Any special talents?

“Necromancy, of course!” “I am a very fast flier.”

Where were you born?

“I… don’t remember, really.” “I am unsure of the exact location, however I know it was on an Isle.”

Do you have any pets?

“No, but I wanna keep one of the Tainted… the little ones that used to be animals! They’re so cute, really!” “No.”

What sort of sports do you play?

“Sports?” “There is no time for such leisure.”

How tall are you?

“This tall, can’t you see?” (5’10” / 177 cm) “I have been told I am quite tall.” (6’1” / 185 cm)

What was your favorite subject in school?

“Psh, didn’t go.” “I did not do much schooling, but I have always been fond of visual arts…”

What’s your dream job?

“My dream is to never work again in my life and sleep on literal gold, thank you very much.” “I already have it. Being a sword for the Constellations is the greatest honor one can achieve.”

————

:D

Tag Game List! Lemme know if you’d like on/off via dm:

@sableglass @dioles-writes @viridis-icithus @allaboutmagic @paeliae-occasionally

@inky-anathemata @vsnotresponding @nightlylaments @ancientmyth

@thebookishkiwi @verdant-mainframe @threedaysgross @fifis-corner @bamber344

@seafloor509 @viwritesthings @abiteofhoney @rumeysawrites @pizzamanstan

@vesanal @an-indecisive-nerd @the-ellia-west @willtheweaver

and open tag!

[d1anna]

waaaaaaaaaaaaa

[chuluoyi]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄, 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

- zayne x reader

husband and wife, at the pinnacle of their love. on a night filled with wonders, you will know that he sees only you and everything that you are

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, explicit smut: slightly rough & drunken sex, fingering, missionary. you and zayne have a daughter (her name is meirin!)

note: god what have i written... the anniversary banner pv made me do it T^T anyhow, this is also a direct prequel to the upcoming angst fic in the name of love :))

“Whoa, so that’s Dr. Zayne and his wife...”

Soft whispers rippled through the crowd the moment you and your husband stepped into the pristine ballroom, all eyes subtly drawn to your arrival.

Tonight, you were accompanying Zayne to Akso Hospital’s anniversary dinner party. His sharp gaze and immaculate three-piece suit made a striking impression. Naturally, you matched his sophistication in every way—your flowing black dress accentuated your figure, while your hair styled into an elegant updo.

A sight for sore eyes, that was what the two of you were.

“Mind your step,” he murmured softly, his voice reassuring as the two of you gracefully ascended the stairs. His left arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but notice the envious gazes of the ladies fixed on you.

“How does such a perfect couple even exist?”

“She’s so pretty… Of course, Dr. Zayne only wants the best.”

“Oh! And I’ve heard they already have a daughter too!”

A smile curled on your lips, a subtle boost of confidence washing over you as their murmurs reached your ears. You felt giddy too—on most days, you were a hunter in a life-and-death situations, rough and rugged. But tonight, draped in elegance and arm-in-arm with Zayne, you felt like a princess.

“Don’t smile that wide...” he suddenly whispered to your ears, a twinkle in his hazel eyes. “You’ll look like Meirin when she’s munching on her cookies.”

You shot him a frown. “Wha?”

“All those praises are going straight to your head.” Even in a prestigious event like this, Zayne couldn’t resist teasing you. “Sooner or later, it’ll get too big for me to handle.”

Fixing him with an unimpressed glare, you deadpanned, “Shush, you!”

When you reached the main hall, the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air, blending with the elegant music playing in the background. The hospital director, an elderly man with a warm smile, greeted you both along with his wife.

"Zayne, thank you for coming," he said, shaking your husband's hand and giving him a light pat on the shoulder. His gaze then turned to you. "Ah, this must be the stellar hunter wife of Dr. Zayne. You look absolutely radiant, madam."

"Ah, please don't call me that..." You mustered your most polished facade, supplying a soft, graceful laugh.

The director's wife grinned and added, "Why didn’t you bring your daughter here? Everyone’s looking forward to finally meet her already."

"She's a handful," Zayne immediately replied with a smile, his tone warm and affectionate. "And she gets fussy when her bedtime nears, so we decided to leave her with my in-laws tonight."

The director let out a hearty guffaw. "No matter how fussy she is, she must be really adorable with a mother this beautiful, eh?"

Throughout the night, it was a compliment you frequently heard. While you were flattered, a thought lingered in the back of your mind—what were your husband's true thoughts about all this attention to you?

Zayne was keenly aware of how captivating you were.

There was a surge of pride whenever he had you on his arm. Just like any man out there, he too wanted to show his hot wife off and flaunt her so everyone could see, as if saying: This is my woman.

But he too knew that it was in a human's nature to covet what they didn't have. And it was rightly proven when he stepped away for just a moment, only to return and find you engaged in conversation with a man.

The hospital director's son, no less.

"Miss, I've heard you're part of the Hunter Association?" he asked you inquisitively. "What a noble profession it is! Keeping all of us here safe on daily basis."

You responded demurely, "And those in Akso do the same, don’t they?"

Your conversation was harmless, and Zayne was a rational man, so he didn’t feel the need to intervene. He just made sure his gaze was on you every so often.

But when the director’s son began persistently offering you drinks, filling your glass time after time, Zayne's patience began to wear thin. The sight of the man’s insistence grated on him, stirring a possessive unease he couldn’t entirely ignore.

. . .

You could’ve sworn your vision swam a little after the third glass of alcohol. The warm buzz coursing through you also made everything seem a little brighter, and left you feeling just slightly off-balance.

"Miss, the white wine here is the best—" the man standing before you declared with a convincing grin, swirling the bottle in front of you. "Don't you want to try some?"

"Ah, no, sir..." you replied with a polite laugh, raising a hand in subtle refusal. "I've already had whiskey and gin just now—"

"Just a little! You really have to try it!"

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck as the alcohol already coursing through your system made your cheeks flush. You didn’t even like alcohol much and only drank socially, but this was the very son of your husband's boss. Refusing outright seemed rude—

“Can you kindly not make her drink too much?”

Or so you thought, until your knight in three-piece suit suddenly stepped in and saved you from your plight.

Zayne’s tone was gentle yet firm, his words striking an authoritative balance. He flashed a placating smile. “My wife doesn’t have a very high tolerance.” Swiftly, he grabbed the glass from your hand and, without missing a beat, downed its contents in one go.

“If you’re looking for a drinking partner, let it be me instead.”

You knew better than anyone that your husband didn’t have a particularly high tolerance for alcohol either. Yet, for the next 30 minutes, you watched, equal parts impressed and concerned, as he matched the man drink for drink, deflecting further offers directed your way with a subtle, protective grace. Though Zayne’s words remained measured, you could see the flush creeping up his neck.

And soon, you’d witness just how far his limits had been pushed.

“Zayne! Are you alright?”

Worry laced your voice as you placed both hands on Zayne's cheeks, your brow furrowing in concern. Somehow or another you managed to drag your husband away and led him to the hotel room.

The warmth of his skin was unmistakable, and his face contorted in discomfort as the vertigo hit him full force. “Oh no, what have you done? Why did you even drink that much!?”

“I’m fine,” Zayne grumbled, his voice thick.

“You’re drunk!” You couldn't help but scold him as you started pulling off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt, trying to help him breathe easier. “You can’t even handle alcohol properly, and yet you’re trying to keep up with him...”

To Zayne, your voice somehow felt comforting. His mind was hazed, but your touch—your hand against his neck—felt like a cool splash of clarity.

His pretty wife... The dizziness was making it hard to stay upright, but the sight of you grounded him, and he instinctively leaned into you—

“Zayne—!”

You barely managed to catch his weight, instinctively wrapping your arms around him. He was so warm against you, his breath uneven, not to mention the slight tremor in his body. "Are you alright?!" you asked in a flurry. "Oh, let me get you some water—"

"You talk too much..." Zayne murmured, his words slurred as everything around him swayed.

Gripping your shoulder to steady himself, his unfocused gaze lingered on you, drawn to the curve of your lips, the delicate line of your neck, and the outline of your cleavage.

How can he have a wife this ravishing and do nothing?

And suddenly, he was sober. Very sober.

Or maybe not. It was simply just him finally giving in to his desires.

In one go, he seized your wrist, yanking you against him with sudden force— and with a quick tilt of your startled, precious face, he devoured your lips in heat.

"—!" It was like a spark igniting, burning through every thought. His mouth was urgent, demanding, as if he couldn’t wait another second to feel the rush of your closeness. His kiss was intoxicating—almost overwhelming—as he tangled his fingers in your hair, tilting your head to gain better access.

Zayne's hands moved to your back, pulling you into him, so close that the heat of his body pressed against yours. Then those sinful hands wandered to your hips, guiding you toward the desk. With reckless urgency, he swept everything off the surface, sending objects crashing to the floor with a sharp clang and made you sit on it.

"Ah, Zayne, you—!" You accidentally pushed him back, and he growled the moment your lips parted.

"Are you trying... to escape?" His gaze turned dark with lust, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. "Why? Isn't this exactly how you wanted me to be...?"

In that moment, you gulped as your heart thundered in your chest. What was even happening now? How did it escalate into this?

You stuttered, eyes widened, "Z-Zayne..."

But your husband had shed all traces of his usual composed self. In the haze of his muddled thoughts, he was driven purely by need. He swiftly removed his glasses, tossing them aside without a second thought, and this time—

His lips went straight for your neck, which, unbeknownst to you, had looked so enticing to him all evening.

"Hahh..." His breathy grunts were hot against your skin and his touch no longer gentle but firm and possessive. His mouth moved with a mix of hunger and desperation, and you struggled to contain the moans as his hands slipped inside your dress, and—

A shiver ran down your spine when he spread your legs, and you couldn’t help the titillating gasp that escaped when inserted his two of his fingers in you all at once, edging you.

"Ungh, ngh! Hah—" Your body jerked and you clung to him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. Zayne wasn't usually this brash, but tonight it was as if a screw had come loose.

"Louder," he commanded in your ear, and your heart pounded at his authoritative voice. He pushed his digits deeper as if punishing you, that you yelped. "Do not hold back."

He lifted you by your waist, effortlessly pressing you against the small table by the window. You were on the 20th floor, the world below far out of sight, but the thought that anyone might catch a glimpse was somehow... thrilling.

"I-I'm close—" you stammered, and the moment you did, your husband vigorously moved his fingers inside your squelching folds, "A-ah!"

The room felt smaller, the air thicker. The way your walls took his fingers alone made your thoughts scatter, and when you came undone on him, you latched onto him, your head resting against his chest as your breaths came in shaky, uneven gasps. "Z-Zayne... please..."

He pulled out his fingers, looked at your cum coating them, and brought them to your lips. You, still trembling, sucked the essence off with teary eyes.

Sweaty, disheveled, lips swollen and cheeks flushed... how he had reduced you into this state was gratifying.

Zayne’s gaze darkened, his breath heavy as he stared down at you. "Are you ready to take me now?"

You nodded.

He gave you a small smirk, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw gently. "Good girl."

He lifted you over to the bed, and you gasped in surprise as he tossed you onto the soft sheets, the motion quick but not unkind. You barely had time to react before his intense gaze locked onto yours, his presence domineering above you.

“Spread your legs.”

Was this man really your husband? Sometimes, you still struggled to reconcile the tender part of him and the man consumed by a unrestrained intensity before you now.

By now you had swallowed all shame and did so. You wanted to look away, but then unable to when the sight before you caught your breath—

All the while, he had his eyes on you. Zayne pulled at his tie with deliberate intent, then he shed his suit pieces, casting them to the floor with a casual abandon, before undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt, revealing his bare chest altogether.

Your husband looks so hot. The way he gazed at you throughout it all too...

He glanced at the space between your legs. “Wider.”

You complied, letting your face burn impossibly hotter, anticipating him.

He eased in slowly, starting with just the tip. You whimpered at the intrusion.

"Hurts?" he questioned with a frown.

"No," you refuted quickly, desire too burning in your gaze as you met his eyes. "I can take more."

You arched your back as Zayne sank deeper, his full length filling you. A moan tumbled from your lips as your walls clenched in response, and he pushed himself completely inside you.

"Hah..." You inhaled sharply, giving yourself a moment to adjust to his entire length, and seeing you like that, your husband cradled the side of your face with his palm.

"So beautiful..." Zayne whispered, his glazed gray-hazel eyes fixed on your spent face. His other hand clasped yours, pinning it beside your head. "My wife... is so incredibly beautiful."

It was heart-fluttering to know that your husband found you pretty. Everyone might compliment you the same way, but his were the only one that truly mattered. After seven years of marriage, your heart still skipped a beat every time he held your gaze like this.

Without warning, Zayne started to move his hips. Your moans got louder and unabashed as his movements were slow at first, before he picked up the pace and thrusted in and out of you with fervor.

"Ahhh!" You threw your head back as his thick cock messily dragged itself against your walls. In, out, in out— Stars began to blur your vision, your nails digging into his shoulder as you reached for him.

You could see that excited glint in his eyes, the lust exploding at the sight of you. He watched you intently, savoring the way unbound desire twisted your face, each mewl you made filling the air. Your thoughts turned into puzzle pieces—

Thrust. So full, you are.

Thrust. What if... this time— you become pregnant again?

Thrust. That would be... nice. You can call it “New Years’ baby.”

Everything was incoherent. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, each hit to that one spot sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing you to the brink of tears and screams.

Then, unexpectedly, he reached his climax first. His cum shot through, filling your womb to the brim in spurts after spurts, and you cried, trembling beneath him. Your release followed suit though, and you went limp in the aftermath.

Zayne collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in the crook of his neck, his name still falling off your lips as a whisper in his ear, a gentle song laced within moans. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, panting heavily against you.

“I love you.”

The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in a tangled web of desire.

The first thing he heard was your whimper.

With a groan, Zayne cracked his eyes open the morning after, instantly recognizing the dull ache in his head—it was a hangover. But before he could press his hands to his temples, his gaze fell on you, curled up in a blanket next to him.

And the whimper came again, and it tugged at something deep inside him.

“What’s... wrong?” he asked in a groggy voice, turning toward you, his hand instinctively reaching for you despite the pounding headache. “Are you alright...?”

You blinked up at him, a flicker of resentment in your gaze, and Zayne gathered you into his arms. The events of last night came back to him in fragments, and realization dawned on him.

“Are you... sore?” he murmured, concern edging his tone.

“I hate you,” you retorted in a scratchy voice, mushing your head in his shoulder. Zayne widened in slight surprise, pulling you closer into his embrace.

“Is that it...? I’m sorry...”

He gently patted your head and back, trying to soothe you. The sight of you—vulnerable and distressed—made his heart tighten with a pang of guilt. Just how rough had he been with you last night?

“There, there, it’ll pass...” he said quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “It’s normal... because we went longer and more vigorous than usual... Probably just mild irritation in your—”

“Don’t pull medical facts on me,” you muttered sullenly, weakly punching his chest. A smile made its way to his face at your mini attack.

“But it’s true though?”

How endearing. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest, his heart softening at the sight of you, even in your grumpy state.

And in that moment, Zayne thought, nothing could've possibly ever shatter his world ever again.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

withering whenever it's like "can't believe they did this Horror in tv y7 media" type thing When what that means is "made a reference to r rated horror movie" like can't believe an evident approximation of Recognizably Specific character or sequence or whatever is in there. like why not. and why is that in & of itself Impressive like well is the scene actually good / is whatever the Reference is being used for effective even without going "i get that reference." do we expect a kid to get the reference. do we expect it to be that motivating to be like "oh shit here it comes. clapping & cheering for Getting The Reference which is the only reason i showed up" like i fucking guess. that "yes, i too Get The Reference" motivation sure Apparently existing but it's so alien(tm) to me (oh my God this media that's not Teens & Up showed a Xenomorph(tm) (but not (tm) so as to be sued?) how?? &, the vision of this, i guess) like does the thing (oh my god. another generally recognizable horror movie. or movie poster) make sense if you don't go "ah, i know exactly what's being referenced :)", is there any broader Effect even if you do Get It. idgaf about clapping b/c They Said (A) Thing i recognize from other media & can like turn & be like "ah did you recognize this as well? delightful" like help. agonizing even if it Doesn't have any meaning If You Do Not Get It. was horrified myself at some interview doing a billions(tm) style Movie Quotation to expand on what someone said by going "oh it's like that scene in movie where she says quote & does moment that makes a trailer" & i was like yeah i do know that material but why was that Specifically invoked to make a point so generic it's barely relevant to that elaborate interruption....like that obviously i think it can be a lot of fun if someone is like "ah i too know that thing" but only if that leads to relevant in depth shared enjoyment of Some sort of specific element. not like oh hell yeah high five over the most superficial thing, or it being a bummer / Shame if you Don't too know that thing, who give a shit. i've never seen anything ever. but preexisting References / whatever passed around description/invocation of peak recognizable / memorable / relevant element sure reach me such that like oh yeah i Know Of xyz sequence without having ever seen that thing. probably without necessarily realizing b/c it had any function in its source material without knowing "ah, this is a reference. & i know it" & like there's no [wow this is a reference to whatever] that would motivate me in & of itself, i think the peak motivation was this sweet spot of like, i was Barely Online before being fourteen & already liked things as an individual experience so the idea that there were other people Liking & Knowing the same thing seemed a lot more impressive for a time lol. but it would still have to be specific enough, might've been like "ooh a reference to thing??" several times & then been like okay that wasn't that rewarding lol

obviously a matter of Taste like idc it's grating to me but have fun with [a reference??] revelry, i'm not making a specificass blog post to an audience of Four with this drive like "oh how i wish that this was Illegal" just like idgaf about wordplay/pun haters like whee yippee i'm a connoisseur, we're obviously having different experiences, i'm meanwhile also having the experience that i don't give a shit about Getting a reference alone or along with anyone else, regardless of any other effect [that which happens to be a reference] has / is used for. or it's like the Huh, What, of "when i like i song i'll memorize at least part of it probably, i like to sing along, if not Extra liking it & memorizing Most or All of it, perhaps with extra effort" (me) vs other people like huh wha i've never memorized a song in whole, much less on purpose, b/c i liked it. vs even if there's a song i really like (like a source material being referenced that i really like) i'm not gonna respond to Just The Title or effective title like half line from the refrain or anything, unsung. gimme a karaoke moment. idk

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Yakuza

When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out. Word Count: 4.3k

When your brother asks you to visit him in Tokyo, something about his voice makes your big sister instincts buzz.

He's great at putting on a show, but there's a twinge of nervousness to him that you've seldom heard before.

You spend your first week in the city with your hackles raised, trying and failing to figure out what he's hiding from you. And you might never have figured it out.

But then he showed up.

Yandere! Yakuza who kicks open your brother's door at three in the morning, a cigarette in one hand and a baseball bat in the other.

You scramble out of bed, convinced you're about to be murdered. And it's only your brother's hand hastily slapped over your mouth that keeps you from screaming bloody murder.

"Relax, I know these guys."

Despite his words, your brother doesn't look relaxed at all. His eyes dart around the room and he balls his fists into his jeans. It's a habit he hasn't broken since childhood and before you know it, you're stepping between him and a dangerously scarred yakuza.

Your Japanese is beyond rudimentary and your course didn't exactly cover how to have conversations with members of an organised crime family, but you tilt your chin back and try to keep your voice steady.

"Naze anata ga koko ni iru no ka? [why are you here?]"

Yandere! Yakuza who shamelessly leers at your tiny summer pyjamas. He pulls at his cigarette and when he speaks, his English is heavy with an accent.

"Came to collect what he owes us."

Of all the possible answers he could have given you, that was one you don't expect in the slightest. You turn to your brother and the way he avoids your eyes is answer enough. God, how could he be so stupid? Didn't you teach him better?

Yandere! Yakuza who came prepared to smash furniture and rough up a stubborn debtor suddenly finds himself at the mercy of your glare. You're at least a foot or two shorter than him and somehow it feels like he's the one being overpowered.

"How much does he owe?"

"Sis really I can-"

Yandere! Yakuza who scoffs and names a number much, much larger than you expected. It takes every ounce of will power not to scream at your brother right then and there. How could he get himself into such a mess? He's barely been here more than six months!

Yandere! Yakuza who watches the emotions flicker across your face and has to admire the way you fight them back. The only sign of your fear is a slight tremble in your hand.

"How much do you need tonight?"

The amount he names is just about everything you have in savings. You bite your lip. One look at him tells you everything you need to know. This isn't some small time crook. The pin on his suit jacket is clear as day, even to a foreigner like you.

You pull your coat over your pyjamas and grab your handbag.

"Let's go then."

When you step out into the hall, you're met with two other Yakuza. How didn't you notice them?

You meet their eyes, trying your absolute hardest to seem unruffled. Predators get violent when they sense fear, right? So don't like them catch that smell on you, no matter how fast your heart is racing.

The night air nips at your skin as you head to the nearest ATM.

"Sis it isn't that bad, I swear -"

"We'll talk about it later, ok?"

Yandere! Yakuza who walks close behind you. You can catch the smell of his cologne - something woody and pleasantly sharp.

When you slip your card into the ATM, he leans against the wall next to you and pulls out another cigarette. He watches you while he lights it, the flame throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.

"You got a boyfriend?"

You're genuinely surprised. Your relationship status isn't exactly on your list of things dangerous criminals should be concerned about.

"No. I don't."

He let's the smoke curl up between his teeth.

"Good. Pretty girl like you shouldn't bother with relationships."

"Why not?"

The ATM spits out your cash before he can answer.

He doesn't take the money immediately. Instead, he let's his eyes roam down your body, like he can still see what's underneath your bulky coat.

"You're never gonna pay it off at this rate."

"You're offering me advice? Didn't think that was part of your job."

"Sōde wa arimasen [it isn't]. But what kind of man would I be if I didn't help you out?"

He digs in his inner pocket and you catch a glimpse of the gun holstered under his jacket.

He pulls out a business card and scribbles something at the back of it.

"He hasn't told you, but we've got his passport. He can't leave until he's settled what he owes."

You suck in a sharp breath at that. How much worse could this situation get?

He holds out the card. "Come work for us and maybe we can work out a better deal, yeah?"

You scoff. "Does that deal involve selling my organs?"

He smiles a little at that. "Īe - no. It's easy work. Come by tomorrow and see for yourself."

You look down at the card and the hand offering it. His tattoos peak out of his sleeve, blue-black and twisting in patterns you can't recognise. Better to not offend a gangster, right?

You take the card.

"Iiko [good girl]."

He turns to go, his baseball bat slung over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow hanī [honey]."

He's barely out of sight before you're grabbing your brother's ear and dragging him back to the apartment.

You spend the rest of the night talking to - or more accurately, interrogating - your brother.

"Gambling? What the hell where you thinking?"

"I was drunk, okay?"

You hiss and rub at your temples. And the worst part? The yakuza was right. You can't pay it off. Not without a very well paying job.

His card glares at you from the kitchen table. An easy job, huh?

The address on the card leads you to a hostess club in the middle of the Red Light District.

He isn't going to kidnap you in the middle of the day in the middle of the city, right? Slightly comforted, you make your way into the club.

It's cool and dark, lit by colorful lamps more than anything. You show the card to the bartender and a few minutes later your yakuza is sitting across from you and ordering you both drinks.

Yandere! Yakuza who wears a suit in the slouched, lazy way of a school delinquent. Shirt unbuttoned so you can see the edge his tattoos and the gold chain gleaming at his neck.

He gestures at the bar and the room around you, his cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. "The Family owns this place. And my kyodai manages it."

He studies you while he smokes, eyes dipping to your chest and lingering. "You can work as a hostess here. Make good money and we'll take a cut of it to pay off what your brother owes."

You take a sip of your drink to avoid answering him. The sake leaves a tingle on your lips.

"But I'm not exactly fluent in Japanese. How am I supposed to entertain customers?"

He grins wolfishly at you. "Just wear something tight and you won't have to talk at all."

"Perv," you mutter into your drink.

On the surface, you can't see anything wrong with his offer. It makes perfect sense - the club gets a new girl they barely have to pay and your brother's creditors don't need to keep tracking him down.

But he's a yakuza and you'd be a fool to trust him.

"Fine. I'll work here, try my hardest to learn Japanese and sell drinks."

You hold his gaze. "But I'm gone the second I think you're being shady. Got it?"

Yandere! Yakuza who smiles like he's won the lottery. "Wakatta [got it]."

When you show up later that evening, he's your first customer. He orders you a bottle of champagne and keeps topping up your glass without ever touching his own.

A few drinks in you manage to finally loosen up enough to hold a conversation. He asks you endless questions - about your childhood, your hobbies, the movies you've been watching.

But in return, he dodges any question you throw at him. "Don't ask about my family." "My childhood was boring. You don't want to hear about it." "Hobbies? Does puss-"

"No."

"Then no."

He's surprisingly fun to talk to. And when he gets a call and has to leave you, there's a pang of disappointment that you can't quite mask.

He grins and flicks your forehead. "Don't miss me too much."

When you pick up the bill, you realise he left you a hefty tip. You stare at it and then at his retreating back. Just what is his angle?

Yandere! Yakuza who's back the next day and the one after that. He sprawls in the booth like a spoiled prince, his arms thrown across the headrest and his legs spread.

"Let me teach you Japanese."

You perk up. A native teacher would be so much easier to learn from compared to the dense textbooks you've tried using.

"Repeat after me. Onegaishimasu. It means 'please'."

You try and imitate his intonation. He walks you through a few more common phrases with moderate success.

"Need to work on your accent, but that was decent. Ready to try something longer? Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne [I think you're very handsome]."

"Anato wa...wa totemo hansam... hansamudesu ne."

He smirks at you over the rim of his glass. He seems immensely pleased.

"What does it mean?"

"Just another way to... greet someone. Kinda tricky though, so you should just use it on me."

He spends the rest of the day explaining kanji and grammar. You take notes on the back of a receipt and promise to rewrite them when you get home.

Your shift is practically over when he finally stands to leave.

"Say goodbye like I taught you."

"Anata wa totemo hansamudesu ne."

He grins at you again, his voice a bit sweeter when he replies. "Anata mo totemo kireidesu ne [you're pretty too]."

You tilt your head, struggling to understand. You don't recognise the phrase, but he's gone before you can ask what it means.

Yandere! Yakuza who requests you almost everyday. Until the house mother snaps at him to give it a rest, there are other clients who want to talk to you.

He scoffs and throws back his drink, Adam's apple bobbing like he's swallowing down his anger too.

"If they want to talk to her so bad, they should get here earlier. Watashitachiha kono basho o shoyū shite imasu [we own this place]. So go and get me my girl."

When you finally make it to his table, he's back to being all smiles. The only person who notices his jealousy is the house mother and she's far too busy to mention it.

"My head is killing me. Give me a massage please?"

He flops down into your lap before you can say no.

You sigh and run your fingers through his hair, trying to remember where the pressure points are.

Yandere! Yakuza who practically purrs at your touch. When you lift a hand away to take a sip of your water, he barely waits for you to swallow before he's dragging it back.

There's something very strange about having a deadly gangster in your lap. With his eyes closed, you can almost forget just how much he scared you when you first met. Can forget how he still scares you.

He opens his eyes and catches you studying him. He reaches up and catches your hand as you draw away from him. His touch is gentle, softer than you would expect from looking at him.

"Go on a date with me."

You aren't sure if it's an offer or a command. There's something so intimate about the way he looks at you, the club lights carving hollows into his cheeks, eyes dark and sweet.

And God help you, he's so close. Only the thin fabric of your stockings between his skin and yours.

"Okay."

His lips quirk into a half smile, boyishly handsome.

"Good. You'll like it."

By the next evening, you're already regretting your decision. What kind of idiot goes on a date with a yakuza? You blame the alcohol and the closeness of his body and your stupid, stupid hormones for getting you into this.

But when he picks you up, you find yourself smiling. He actually knocks on the apartment door this time and you open it with the full intention of teasing him.

"My brother's landlord-"

Your words die in your throat. You always knew he was handsome but the man waiting for you takes your breath away.

His hair is slicked away from his face and a sparkling cross dangles from one ear. His lazy suits are gone, replaced with a suit that's pressed and tailored. Hell, even his shirt is buttoned up properly.

He looks good. Dangerously good.

He takes you in, eyes lingering at your curves. You swallow and try not to blush. You do your hair and makeup everyday for the club and he's seen you in this dress before, but he looks at you like it's all new to him, like he wants to drink in every inch of you.

You somehow manage to find your voice and it has none of its usual bite. "You look good. Really good."

He smoothes a hand over his hair self consciously. "Arigatō. Shall we go?"

He offers you his arm and you take it, your heart thundering. He opens the car door for you and helps you in like a proper gentleman. You catch a whiff of his cologne - the same woodsy scent from the night you met.

He takes you to a skyscraper restaurant and sits down right next to the window. The city is a sparkling sprawl at your feet.

"I didn't think you'd be into a place like this," you say.

"What? You think I don't got class?" He grins and points his fork at you, "I've got the best damn taste in this whole city."

"Explains why you asked me out then."

"Obviously." He leans forward. "Only the best for my girl, yeah?"

"I'm your girl? Since when?"

"Since..." He makes a show of checking his watch. "Since the night I met you. You just didn't know it yet."

Ah, now that's one way to make a girl fall for you. And despite your better sense, you feel yourself falling.

You can still taste the lingering sweetness of dessert when he walks you back to his car. His leans against the car door and loops his arms around your waist.

"You had fun tonight?"

"Yes. More than I expected honestly."

He pulls you closer to him, softly enough that you can step back at any point. You don't.

"Gonna give me a kiss to say thank you? It's a very important part of our culture."

You clasp your hands together behind his neck.

"You liar."

He grins that boyish half smile of his. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

He doesn't feel like a gangster or a creditor or a customer. In that moment he feels like just a man - someone strong and handsome that you desperately want to kiss.

Your gaze flickers down to his lips and then back to his eyes. You pull gently at his neck and his head dips lower. You stay like that for a moment, lips almost touching. Too nervous to make the final move.

His hands move to cradle your waist and he closes the gap between you.

You pull him closer, your hands slipping from his neck to his jaw. His stubble scrapes your palm and makes your whole body tingle. He tastes of wine and sugar.

When you finally pull away, you draw your thumb across his lower lip. His eyes are half lidded and when he moves, it's with a sluggish reluctance. Like he doesn't want to let go of you.

He keeps one hand on your waist and draws out a stack of cash with the other. When he speaks, his voice is husky.

"How much for tonight?"

"What?"

His draws his hand up your waist to rest against your sternum. Like he wants to dig his hand into your heart.

"How much to take you home?"

A bucket of cold water would have been less shocking. You pull away from him, your mind racing.

God, why are you such an idiot? Of course he only wants to fuck you. He's just a thug, what did you expect?

And worse, you feel like a small part of your heart is breaking. Why be so sweet to you, why go out of his way to spend time with you, if all he wants is a one night stand?

"Are you serious?"

"Obviously. How much do you charge?"

You act without thinking and slap him right across his face.

The sound of it is terribly sharp in the open quite of the parking lot. It leaves your palm stinging. You freeze, terrified of what you've just done.

He doesn't move, his head turned to the side from the force of your slap. Slowly, he touches his fingers to his cheek. His expression is unreadable.

Oh, you're so dead. You just hit a yakuza. A guy who probably breaks faces everyday, who has who knows how many felonies to his name.

Your first instinct is to apologise, say you weren't thinking and that you're so so sorry. You lift your chin and squash down that part of you.

"I'm not for sale."

The quiet stretches out, tense and dangerous. He turns away and opens the car door for you. He doesn't meet your eyes.

"I understand now. Gomen'nasai [I'm sorry]."

The drive home is terribly quiet. You keep expecting him to lash out - hit you or humiliate you for daring to slap him like that.

He doesn't. He just keeps eyes on the road.

When you reach your building, he follows you to the door and rests his hand on the frame above your head. You can feel him behind you, close enough for his breath to tickle the back of your neck.

"I can't buy you."

"No."

"But I want you."

You pull in a shuddering breath. "Earn it."

You shut the door without turning back.

He doesn't show up at the club for the next week. At first you're on edge - what if he gets you fired? Or worse, does something to your brother?

But your boss doesn't mention anything and your brother keeps coming home in one piece. Slowly, you relax. Tell yourself that he's done with you now that you won't give him what he wants. You try and ignore the way it hurts.

When he does finally show up, he's dangerously tipsy. He yanks you out of your booth in the middle of a date and leaves the house mother to bow and apologise to the customer.

You try not to make a scene as he pulls you along behind him. But you look about desperately for any of the other yakuza. Where the hell are they when you need them?

Finally, he drops you in a booth in the corner of the club and collapses across from you. His hair is messier than you've ever seen it and there's a feverish wildness in the way he looks at you.

"Fine. I'm here. Let me earn your love."

You rub your arm and scowl at him. "Your idea of winning me over is to leave a huge bruise on my arm?"

He runs his hands through his hair. "Hell, I don't know. I've never had to win a girl over before."

"Yeah right. I've seen the girls you go out with. There's no shortage of women in your life."

He looks you in the eye. "Bought and paid for." He gestures at the table and at you. "Not like this. Not like you."

That gives you pause. It makes sense. Gangsters don't exactly have the time to go on Sunday morning brunch dates or meet the family.

"So why not just pay someone else?"

You don't say it out loud but the rest of your question is clear. Why me?

"I...I don't want to. Setsumei suru no wa totemo muzukashīdesu [It's so hard to explain]. But I don't want anyone else."

A confession from a yakuza was not at all on your list on fun and lighthearted tourist activities. You're not entirely sure how to deal with it.

Your sense is screaming at you to be smart. And when is dating a criminal ever smart? You're supposed to get yourself and your brother away from the underworld, not get roped deeper in. And what happens if you want to break up? When has a man with a gun and too many scars ever taken a heartbreak well?

And yet...

You want him. Stupidly, against all sense, you want to be with him. He's dangerous. He probably only wants to fuck you. He has too much power over your life. He might never let you leave him.

And still you want him.

You take a deep breath. "Come over tonight and I'll cook you something. And if my cooking doesn't change your mind then... then we can talk about it."

He smiles at you and the wild look in his eye seems to finally dim.

"Anata ga watashi o oidasou to shite mo dekinakatta [Baby, you couldn't get rid of me if you tried]."

You weren't lying when you said you were a terrible cook. When he finally arrives, the rice is somehow both burnt and slightly undercooked and your curry is severely under-salted.

You scrunch your nose when you take a bite. "This is awful."

"You cooked it." He takes another bite. "And I hate to say it, but I've had worse."

You push your bowl away and mutter, "I didn't think rice could be so complicated. I followed the instructions and everything."

He takes another bite. "I can make decent rice. And udon."

"So between the two of us, there's only one good cook? Shameful."

He adds some salt to his bowl. "Neither of us ever has the time to cook anyway, so I don't know why you're surprised."

You shake your head and watch him. He's halfway through your abysmal culinary concoction and somehow not green in the face.

"You never talk about yourself," you tell him.

He avoids your eyes. "I'm not that interesting."

"But I am?"

"Yes." There's a quiet fierceness to his answer that makes your heart stutter.

"Tell me a secret about yourself."

It's his turn to study you. "A secret."

"That's what I said."

He considers you for a long moment before reaching up and undoing his shirt buttons. He turns his back to you and let's his shirt fall away.

You gasp. His tattoo covers his entire back. It's every bit as intricate as you suspected - there's lotus flowers between his shoulder blades and a spider inked below his ribcage.

But it's the snake that takes up most of the space. It curls and unwinds across his back, every scale painstakingly inked. It's hissing mouth rests on his shoulder blade, opposite his heart.

He flinches when you touch him, but doesn't ask you to stop. You run your fingertips up his back, tracing the snakes coiling body.

"It's incredible."

He doesn't answer you. Eventually your fingers come to rest on his neck.

He reaches back and takes hold of your wrist. He draws it forward and tilts his head to press a kiss against your pulse. You wonder if he can feel the way your heart jumps when he touches you.

"Do you want to know the real secret? I go home at night and lie awake thinking about you."

You lean forward and rest your forehead against his bare back. "What do you think about?"

He inhales sharply. "Your voice... your lips... your body."

You laugh a little and your warm breath on his skin makes him shiver. "You're shameless."

"Mattaku hajishirazuna [totally shameless]."

You tilt his head towards you and kiss his cheek.

You can feel him smile against your lips. When you pull away, he turns to you and cups your jaw.

Your Japanese has gotten better, but you don't understand what he whispers before he kisses you.

"Watashi Kazu anata ni koiwoshiteiru, soshite watashi wa tomaranai [I'm falling in love with you and I can't stop]."

He presses his lips against yours, so much hungrier this time. His hand slips from your cheek to the nape of your neck to pull you closer to him.

"My girl, my pretty girl. Hanaretakute mo hanare rarenakatta [I couldn't let you go even if I wanted to]."

He presses hot kisses against your throat. His grip on your neck almost painfully tight.

"Hitsuyōniōjite, anata no kyōdai ni wa nan-nen mo shakkin o showa seru koto ni narudeshou [gonna keep your brother in debt for years if I have to]."

The rest of his sentence is little more than a growl. "Nanrakano hōhō de anata ni watashi o aishite morau tsumoridesu [gonna make you love me back one way or another]."

The one downside of courting a yakuza is not understanding everything he says. But maybe it's safer that way.