#kinda feel like i should make one for all of them

[thecoochiefairy]

bloodhound. toji.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 15.9K word count. blackfem!reader, toji fushiguro, mafiagangmember!toji , violence, dominant!toji, sweet!toji, aggressive!toji, sensual sex, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, oral [f], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condom-less sex, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ this idea came at a random, kinda just for fun. loved it at first, started hating it as i wrote it? was committed to finish. idk. ugh. however, it was inspired by ‘the yakuza wife’ anime. anyways, a lot happened in the real world, sorry y’all. i love you. just enjoy. visuals.

EYES. THEY WERE ALWAYS RECEIVED TO HER BY THE STARE OF OTHER PEOPLE. It was common at this point, so much that it didn’t even offend her—But it should’ve.

 Instead, she brought her focus upon the dimly lit lanterns that lead to the end of the market, needing to make it back to Tokyo before dark. Chocolate brown panels above to protect the stores from rain, cherry blossoms sprouting along the poles as she passed by, watching as the bars and restaurants began to pack like sardines within a can. 

Back to the staring, she counted about three people today. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It just didn’t make sense to her—she’d been in Japan all her life, and she still felt like an outsider. She didn’t have fair skin, silky hair, or a petite frame. She was different, but he always reminded her there was beauty in being like no other. 

She’d make sure to grab a small carton of rouge strawberries, her favorite fruit at any time of day. Number four, the man at the counter gives her a strange look as she walks around the store, before suppressing his peculiar stare, replacing it with a respectful smile as she hands him 10,000 yen.

It was a silent two hour ride back home—she knew she was going to get chastised, especially being without protection. The familiar walkway of succulents swayed with the wind as she followed a pathway, now standing in front of the barrier that separated her from the machiya—or house— as he’d taught her to say. She glances up at the camera that tries to hide at the top of the gate, also looking down through the bars as she can see one of the guards pointing a gun directly at her. The groceries become heavier.

She sighs, “Are you gonna let me in, or shoot me?” 

When the guard recognizes the familiar voice, he lowers his gun at the same time he bows, constantly repeating, “Sumimasen,” as the top of the gate unlocks.

She gives a polite wave to the older women dressed in their housekeeping attire, they all greet her back, continuing to clean the front porch. She hears one of them call to help her with the groceries, to which she always waved off. Making her way inside, she quickly dropped the groceries in the kitchen, beginning to pull the items out of the bag as she could instantly feel someone behind her. She doesn’t have to look back, knowing it’s the man that’s assigned to follow her everywhere she goes. 

She exhales, “You don’t have to hide in the corner, Kenji. Is my grandfather awake?”

Kenji, a tall and muscular man, emerges from the shadows and makes his way into the kitchen. He stands by the fridge, hands behind his back. 

"No ma’am, he is still asleep," Kenji replies, his voice low and authoritative. He watches as she unpacks the groceries, his gaze unwavering. 

"You didn’t tell anyone you were leaving.”

“Would you have taken me down to Kyoto if I asked?” She raises an eyebrow, knowing the answer to that, “I needed fresh fruit. You would’ve gone out and got it yourself.” 

Kenji was an older, extremely serious man. Barely could get a laugh, smile, even the twitch of his face. He’d been the guardian of their family for years, but even he had his stresses when it came to her.

“That doesn’t mean you should leave the estate without me,” he replies stiffly. "You could’ve woken me up and I would’ve taken you.”  

“I made it back safely,” she counters, “No one recognized me, so it’s fine. You want a strawberry?” She takes one from the plastic, reaching it out to him.

Kenji eyes the strawberry for a moment, before reluctantly taking it. 

"It’s not about making it back safely," he replies, a hint of irritation in his tone. "It’s about the fact that you left without telling anyone. Anything could’ve happened to you." 

“Ahh, you took it from me! You’re not that mad, Mamoru,” she calls him the traditional term, “You can save all that intimidation shit for Jiji, not me.”

"Don’t call me that," he mutters, crossing his arms. "And don’t call your grandfather Jiji. Have some respect."

“What? Is Ojiichan better for you?” She questions as she reaches her hand out, “Here. Have another strawberry. You’re mean today.”

Kenji grumbles, but accepts another strawberry anyway. 

"Don’t try and butter me up," he mutters, taking a bite. "I’m not mean. I’m just doing my job." 

He leans against the counter, looking at her with a mix of annoyance and concern. He taps the piece within his ear, his eyes coming up as he says, “Your grandfathers awake.”

“I’m going,” she’s already beginning to make her way upstairs, “Don’t touch the groceries! I can put them up myself.”

She comes down the hallway, sliding the wooden frame of the door, pressing her hand against the translucent paper as her eyes follow to the sight of her grandfather. Smile lines creased his olive face, even when he wasn’t happy. 

She watched the housekeeper dab a cold towel against his face, walking forward as she tells her, “I’m here, you can go take a break,” she gives a light smile, offering to take the towel from her.

The housekeeper nods appreciatively and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. The only sound left is the soft breathing of her grandfather. 

He turns his head towards her, his eyes slowly opening. “You’re back,” he rasps, his voice weak.

She sits along the floor beside his bed as she softly replies, “I’m surprised you’re not raising your blood pressure to yell at me.”

Her grandfather manages a weak smile, wincing slightly as he shifts in the bed. 

"I'll save my anger for later," he mutters, his voice gruff. "What were you thinking, leaving without telling anyone?"

“I wasn’t gone that long,” she tells him, to which he says, “Bogo de hanashite kudasai.”

She replies, “You’re getting better at your English—can you not be difficult right now?”

"You still haven't explained why you went to the market by yourself."

“I went to your favorite market in Kyoto to find those dumplings you like, I wanted to make ramen,” she says, reaching out as she lightly dabs the towel against his face, “You’ still wanna yell now?”

Her grandfather's gruff exterior softens, and he looks at her with a hint of surprise. He can never stay mad at her. 

"No," he mutters, closing his eyes as he lets out a long sigh. "I suppose you did bring me my favorite dumplings."

“How are you feeling?” 

Her grandfather grunts, waving off the question. "I'm fine," he says dismissively, "You don't need to worry about me."

He notices the look on her face, and sighs. "I'm tired," he admits, wincing slightly as he tries to sit up more in the bed.

“You’ll feel better once I cook,” she mentions, “Do you want to try to take an actual shower today?”

“I’m too weak to stand,” he mutters, a hint of stubbornness in his voice, “And I don’t need help showering. I’m still capable of taking care of myself.”

“Yet you can’t stand?” She raises an eyebrow. 

She watches him lean back into the pillow, breathing as if he’d just done a marathon. The ball in her throat begins to form, and she hates that. She then says, “The man that would kill to protect his family, is now letting cancer take him in the dead of the night. You say I’m stubborn, and you wonder where that comes from?”

He grunts, turning away from her gaze. “Don’t start,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “I’m an old man. I’ve already lived my life. I don’t need your pity.”

“And I’m not giving it to you,” she swiftly replies, “We could’ve found the best treatment in Japan. And yet here you are, wanting your final days to be in the walls of this home. The leader of the Yakuza—who’s gonna scare the city when you’re gone?”

Her grandfather glares at her, his eyes narrow and sharp. "I've made my decision," he snaps, "This is where I want to be. I'm not some coward who's afraid to face death. And don't talk to me about the Yakuza. I've done everything I needed to do for them." 

He lets out a deep sigh, his shoulders sagging as he leans back against the pillows.  "I don't need you to remind me that I'm dying."

She brings her head down, staring along the towel she holds. She says softly, “Gomen’nasai,” her throat becoming tight again as she continues, “I just wish you weren’t trying to run away from me.”

"I'm not running away from you," he says, his tone gruff but gentle. "I'm just tired. I've spent my whole life fighting and I just want to rest now."

She knows that. It’s just hard to hear. The man that raised her, taught her everything she needed to know, maybe even more. She hesitates, “Nani ka kiite mo īdesu ka?”

He nods, intertwining his fingers back together, laying himself properly back along the pillows beneath his body.

“Do you regret the life you lived?” 

The question is general, although she wants to be specific. She slowly continues, “I know you for who you are, but others don’t. They feared you, feared the people you brought in. You—killed people, did illegal things. Would you have changed that?”

Her grandfather lets out a long sigh, thinking about her question. He is silent for a moment, contemplating his life spent. 

"Yes," he finally says, his voice rough. "There are many things I regret about the life I lived. Things I did that I wish I could undo. But I did what I thought was necessary for the family." 

He looks at her, his eyes meeting hers. "But I never regret meeting your grandmother, and I never regret having your father. And I never regret bringing you into this world."

She suppresses her smile as she says, “You’re getting soft on me, Jiji.”

"I'm not getting soft," he mutters, rolling his eyes. "I'm just being honest. However, I have one dying wish.” 

She nods her head, waiting for him to continue. He then says, “You will be twenty-six soon, and all I ask is that you’re married before I die.”

She frowns, “That’s not long, Jiji, what am I supposed to do? Go out and pick a husband off of the street?”

Her grandfather smiles at her reaction, amused by her stubbornness. "No, obviously not," he chuckles, coughing a little at the end. "I don’t expect you to pick the first man you see. But you need to start thinking about it. You need to find a good man, someone who will take care of you after I’m gone."

“I can take care of myself,” she’s always told him, “I’ll be the first in your generation to be lonely with cats.”

Her grandfather grunts, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not going to live alone with cats."

“I suspect you have a line up of men to offer to me?” She raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think I’m fond of being with those Yakuza crazies you keep under your wing.”

He studies her again, his eyes narrowed. "They’re respectable men. You're not a little girl anymore. It's time to start thinking about your future."

“I do think about my future. I’m trying to finish school to become a registered nurse, but you seem to tune out as soon as I tell you that,” she reminded him. Her grandfather was unfortunately an extremely traditional man, only seeing women to be taken care of by men.

"You're wasting your time with that," he grumbles, his eyes flickering back to hers. "You don't need to work. You have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life. And you certainly don't need to be a nurse. You're a woman, not a doctor."

“So what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that I’ve found someone for you.”

Her frown deepens. She says, “Ojiichan, I hope you aren’t insinuating an arranged marriage.”

“An arranged marriage is not something you should reject right away," he says gruffly. "I know the perfect man for you. He's respectful, wealthy, and he comes from a good family in the Yakuza.” 

“What happened to not wanting me married off to a man like you or my father? The one who robbed, cheated, lied, killed? That’s what you want for me?” She sharply replies.

"Don’t you talk to me like that," he snaps, "I worked hard for this family. So did my son. I made sure we had power and a life most people dreamed of. This is a good man—strong, traditional. You will meet him tomorrow.”

Your eyes widen slightly, “What? ‘The hell do you mean tomorrow?”

Her grandfather looks at her sternly, his eyes piercing into hers. "You will meet him tomorrow. I'm not asking you, I’m telling you. You will get dressed and you will sit with him for tea." 

He raises a hand when she starts to speak, silencing her. "This is not a discussion. You will meet him, and you will be polite. Understood?"

When she goes to argue again, his hand raises further, her eyes catching the trail of ink littered along the back of his arm, knowing it followed all the way up his back, down his spine. It was a reminder of who he once was, and the authority in his tone also did that. 

He says, “This is my dying wish, Sayuki. You will do this.” 

The call of her full name, she knows it’s no room for argument. She wasn’t ready to meet anyone, let alone be married. But this was all he asked of her, and she wanted to respect his wishes in death. 

She nods her head, “Okay.”

Her grandfather’s expression softens slightly as he sees her nod. He lowers his hand, gesturing to the door, “Good. Now go make my gyoza, a dying man needs to eat.”

At this moment, she thought about poisoning his food. But she gave him something easier. A fake smile, a bow, and exiting the room. 

                                          𝓐ᥫ᭡

     CHAMOMILE TEA. That’s what she remembered from this interaction. When the next day came, it flew by just to spite her. It was now closer to the evening, the lanterns of the night beginning to light as she stood within the mirror of her bedroom. She turned her body as she looked at herself, the backless pale yellow dress flowing down to her thin golden heels, straps wrapped around the tattoos along her feet. The top of her dress tied into a bow around her neck, dark hair up within a matching claw clip.

 If there was a luxury her grandfather had given her, it was to dress however she chose. He’d shoot on sight for anyone that had an opinion on it. Tendrils flew around the caramel complexion of her face, honey brown freckles showing through her makeup despite her foundation, fox eyes slender beneath her lash extensions, pointing upwards along her face. 

She pressed the brown outline of her cupid's bow lips to mix with the mauve closest to her mouth, spraying herself of a sensuous vanilla and jasmine scent before she made her way out of the door, Kenji immediately following behind. 

She asked him softly, “Do I look okay?” Knowing the older man didn’t have much opinion, but she needed some type of reaction from someone.

Kenji looked at her, his expression stoic as usual, his eyes roaming over her figure, "You look beautiful," he said, his voice dry as usual. 

He paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on her face, "But you’re nervous," he added, “You’re squeezing your hands together."

“I know,” she sighs, “What if this is the husband of my dreams, Kenji? Like those dramatic movies I used to watch as a kid?”

He patted her shoulder reassuringly, "Just...try to act normal. And don’t punch him, at least not right away."

She huffs out a breath, “Thanks.”

She then slides the opening door to her grandfather's room, seeing as a housekeeper sat beside him, pressing a spoon to his mouth as she fed him soup. 

Sayuki greeted, “I hear a lot of noise from downstairs, Jiji, are your children already running amuck?”

“Don’t joke like that,” he said, his tone gruff, “But yes, half of the clan’s already gathering. They’ll be at a meeting while you’re on your date.”

“Did you have to do that the same day? I’d rather avoid the embarrassment,” she replies, “…You didn’t tell me my dress was pretty.”

“You look like a delicate flower, my child.” 

That makes her feel at ease. She then says, “Don’t let those idiots rummage the fridge, please? Those groceries are for you. I’ll be in the garden if you need me, okay?”

Her grandfather grunts, waving her off with a hand, "Don't show that attitude when you meet him. Don't be sharp-tongued or sarcastic. Act like a proper lady."

She keeps from rolling her eyes. Leaning down closer to the bed, she gives him a kiss on the cheek, before sliding the door closed and making her way downstairs. The men of the Yakuza filled the entire living room and kitchen, rowdy, loud, cigarette smoking, talking shit. Matching black suits, dark hair—an intimidation brought all along Tokyo. It was as if she hadn’t passed by, throaty laughs filling the house as they continued to play cards, arguing with one another.

She was back to following the path of plants, leading up to the gazebo that was surrounded by clear water, koi fish and flowers she’d planted herself, or even helped the housekeeper plant. Her eyes fell over the figure sitting on the inside of it, a table now in the middle of the seating area, small bowls, cups and mugs placed atop. She glanced back at Kenji who now stood by the door that led back into the house, far away enough from the garden, but close enough if anything happened. Her eyes gazed over the smoke that released from the cigarette in between his scarred lip, his frame unfamiliar to her eyes.

Her eyes slowly dragged over the man seated in her gazebo, taking him all in. His broad, muscular shoulders. His sharp jawline. His tall figure even when seated, long legs traveling for miles. Onyx hair and eyebrows furrowed, the dark suit he wore hugged against his large frame that could’ve exploded the seams of material. 

She couldn't help but find him attractive already—and maybe a little intimidating. She took a deep breath, gathering the last bit of her courage, and walked through the garden towards him.

She lifted her leg onto the step, taking him in even closer. When his eyes finally met hers, her heart thumped, as his face wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions. Her hands clasped together in front of her, and she gave him a respectful bow—although she didn’t want to—making her way to the opposite side of the table as she sat herself down. His hand was huge, two fingers molding around his cigarette, plump lips taking another inhale as he scanned her. A couple minutes of silence go past, before his deep, attractive voice is the first to speak. 

“Nihongo o hanasemasu ka?” 

She blinks, trying to hide the scrunch in her nose as she replies, “I prefer to use English. Why wouldn’t I speak Japanese?” 

He doesn’t give an answer, only using his eyes to frown at her. She does roll her eyes this time, briefly explaining, “My mother is black. I’m fluent in both English and Japanese, if that’s what you’re trying to confirm.”

He seemed completely uninterested, his expression still blank. He took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out, his eyes never leaving her. After a moment, he spoke in English.

“You’re not what I was expecting.”

“Am I supposed to apologize for that?” She raises an eyebrow.

He narrowed his eyes at her, his expression cold, but amused, “Nah. An apology is unnecessary.”

His eyes flicker over her figure again, the corner of his lip twitching slightly, “But an introduction wouldn’t hurt, yeah?”

She crossed her right leg over her left, clearing her throat in a way to retract her question as she replies, “Sayuki. And you?”

“Toji Fushiguro.”

His eyes traveled down to her legs as she shifted them, watching her move.

“It’s a pretty name,” he says suddenly, taking another drag. “Sayuki. ‘Longevity, long-lived’.”

“You knew that off the top of your head?” She questions, “I don’t know what your name means.”

He chuckled slightly, a rare sound, his deep voice making her heart thump again before he responded. 

“Lucky,” he says, blowing another stream of smoke out, “My name means ‘lucky’.”

“Are you lucky?” She tilts her head, “I would say the habit of smoking is relatively unlucky.”

“Are you worried about my health after ten minutes of knowing each other?”

The question throws her off a bit. She wasn’t trying to have the upper hand in this conversation, but she surely didn’t want to seem nervous. She felt her face go warm as she counters, “Smoking is a bad habit for anyone. My grandfather did it a lot, one of the reasons he’s on his deathbed sooner than I’d like him to be.”

He looked at her steadily, the light smoke from his cigarette curling into the air as he watched her through the haze.

“I’m not worried shit like life expectancy,” he says simply, “My job comes first. If smoking helps me get through stress, then fuck it.”

“You Yakuza men seem to never care about something as important as your health, or your life,” she points out, “You think if you got married your wife wouldn’t be worried about that?”

Toji chuckled again, a dry sound, but an amused one. “Who says I’m looking to get married?”

“Then why are we talking then?” She questions, “Isn’t that what we’re here for?”

Toji’s expression darkened slightly at her question, his eyes flickering with a flash of annoyance. But then he chuckled again, a mocking, arrogant sound. 

“My old man’s making me talk to you,” he says, taking another drag of his cigarette, “He’s your Ojiichan’s right hand. Wants me to start a family, continue the bloodline and all that bullshit. So here I am.”

Yup, there it was. Her patience was thinning. 

She then asks, “And you don’t want that?”

“Nah,” he said simply, “Not at all.”  

He then smirked again, his dark gaze piercing her’s, “Why, do you want to start a family, Sayuki?”

The way he said her name, emphasizing the pronunciation in their native tongue made her shift a bit. It was annoying. She answers honestly despite his tone, “I’m about to be twenty six, so a family would be nice. But I want my degree first, I’m studying to be a registered nurse. I wanna help people in ways my grandfather wouldn’t allow me to help him.”

"A career nurse," he repeats, “How noble and selfless of you."

She raises her posture up a bit, “What is that supposed to mean?”

His dark eyes dragged over her figure again, “You’re pretty as fuck—enough to marry an old millionaire, who’d pamper you ‘till the day you die.”

She now becomes visibly irritated, “I’m not tryna’ be a housewife and pop out a bunch of kids if that’s what you think by looking at me.”

“And why not? That’s what you were designed to do. A body like that and such a pretty ass face. You’d be worth the fuck.” 

Yeah, that was it. She takes the steaming tea in front of her, chucking it directly in his face, letting the actual cup follow after. She stands as she spits, “A disrespectful ass mouth like that, I can see why you’d still be ‘wife searching at your grown age. Go fuck yourself.” 

She’s already stomping away, fire in her eyes as she mutters, “Fuckin’ stupid ass nigga—Kenji! Let’s go!”

Toji’s eyes widen for a moment as the steaming tea is splashed into his face, his skin searing against the liquid as it hits him, cup following after. He looked to see the large bodyguard standing by the porch, and even he was shocked. All he could do as he watched her fly past him was give Toji a helpless stare before muttering, “Yes ma’am.”

In the past years of her grandfather being sick, the next five days was the first time she’d heard him curse in the longest. His anger trickled over to guards, staff within the house, even his men who worked for him. He was pissed after hearing what his granddaughter had done. She stayed in the room if she wasn’t checking on him, and the moment she saw him ready to go off, she would grow wings and fly. He’d be fine eventually. 

She was now within the living room, palms and feet pressed along a mat as she did her morning stretches, talking on the phone with her mom to tell her of the situation. 

“Chile, I don’t know why you’re calling me. Kenji already told me what happened—had your grandfather called, the man would’ve written his own eulogy. Doctor said his pressure is at an all time high,” her mom said, chuckling into the phone. 

Sayuki sighs, “I wasn’t trying to give the man a heart attack.“

“I’m sure you didn’t, honey. But you know that first impressions matter.”

She brings herself to her knees, halting her stretching as she deadpans, “Momma. I understand the cultures around here, okay? Respect is big and all that shit. Jiji taught me that. Ole’ boy was the disrespectful one. I just gave him a taste of his own medicine. Or tea, to be specific.”

“I know he was being rude, but you know how important this is for your grandfather.” 

There’s a pause between them, before her mother’s voice comes through the line again, a bit softer this time, “It won’t hurt to try and get along with him. At least for your Jiji’s sake, yeah?”

“That’s if I ever see the bastard again. You know Grandpa said? That he made some valid points in our conversation—he thinks all I’m supposed to make of myself is the perfect wife,” she shakes her head, raising her leg out to stretch the muscles behind.

Her mother is silent for a few long moments, before sighing again. “You know your grandfather is stuck in his traditional ways. You can’t expect for him to just change this late in life. Your father was the same way—just wanted me to pop out babies.”

She knew her mom wouldn’t have much commentary on this, considering she’d lived as a housewife for years before her husband's passing. She couldn’t handle the life Sayuki’s father lived, being within the Japanese Mafia—but her father in law refused to be without his granddaughter. So she let her stay in Tokyo, and went to the states to set out her own dreams.  

Sayuki sighs, “How’s the army treating you, Sergeant? Where do they have you based right now?”

Her Mom chuckles slightly into the phone, an amused sort of sound, “I swear they have me stationed in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Texas, in the middle of this town called Waco. The people here are good ‘ol bible-thumping country folk. I’m terrified.”

Sayuki laughs, “You’ wanted to be head honcho so bad, now they’ got you in places you’ve never been before.”

Her mother is quiet for a moment, still chuckling, before she speaks again. “The job’s more stressful than I imagined,” she says, “But I’m getting the hang of it. I’m stationed at the base now, working with the new guys and whatnot,” She paused for another moment, before she sighs and continued, “I really need to get stationed back in Tokyo, though. I miss you and your Jiji a lot, you know.”

She hates that feeling of tightness in her throat. She told her mom to live out her dreams with her being an adult, and that she would be fine under the protection of her grandfather. But she also needed the only parent she had left. 

“I miss you too, momma.” 

She then hears the sliding door open to the hallway, Kenji appearing with a bow as he greets, “Ohayou gozaimasu. Your grandfather would like to speak to you.” 

Sayuki sits on the floor fully as she raises an eyebrow, “He’s awake already?”

Her mom’s still on the phone, a soft hum coming from the line before she questions, “He’s not a morning person. You’ really gave him a heart attack, huh?” 

Kenji replies, “He seems to be fine. He’s awake and very much alive,” He glances at Sayuki and bows again, before saying, “His orders were to bring you to his room.”

“Alright momma, I’ll try to call you before you turn in your phone again. I love you, always,” she doesn’t want to hang up, but her grandfather could be an impatient man, especially if he was upset.

Her mother’s voice filters through the line again, a familiar, comforting sound. “I love you, too. Stay safe, okay?” 

Then, she’s gone, and Kenji turns his attention back to her. The big man just silently starts walking, obviously expecting her to follow.

Sayuki follows him down the hallway, making their way to her grandfather's bedroom. She sends off Kenji as she slowly opens the door, to be greeted by a housekeeper who’s nervously patting his face with a cold sponge. She tells her, “You can go. Thank you.”

The housekeeper immediately scurries off, taking the towel and bucket with her. Sayuki’s left alone with her grandfather now, who’s sitting up in bed, a newspaper on his lap. His eyes flicker up to her for a few moments, still sharp as ever.

“Do you come in peace?” She questions, sitting herself beside the bed, “I see you have the newspaper. You must be in a good mood.”

“The doctor said my pressures have risen,” he starts, his voice still surprisingly even, “But I am still breathing. If you hadn’t annoyed me so greatly, I would probably have another decade in my life.”

“Oh? So it’s my fault now? How about you’ put your lil’ gang members in check?” She crossed her arms.

Her grandfather’s eyes widened slightly at her blunt words, obviously surprised. He looks at her for a few long moments. Then, he shakes his head, “I taught you to respect men. Why can’t you be a little more��well… gentle? Polite?”

“I was soft and feminine like you want me to be. He’s the one that said he didn’t want to be married, and that I wasn’t even his type. He doesn’t even like black women,” she rambles. 

As she sees her grandfather’s face, she rolls her eyes as she corrects herself, “Okay—he ain’t say all that. But he did say he was only there for his father’s sake.”

“It doesn’t matter what he said. “I know that boy’s a bit arrogant. A little rude too. But family is important. He’s my right hand’s son.” 

His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at her, saying, “And you have no choice in whether you marry him. You’re getting older, Sayuki. Twenty-six is not young anymore. I’m not letting you leave this house unless you’re a wife.”

“Is this my death sentence? What did I do to deserve this treatment?” She flops herself on the end of the bed, “Have you’ no heart?”

Her grandfather simply rolls his eyes, his expression unchanging, “Don’t be so dramatic, Sayuki. You know how marriage works in this family. I had an arranged marriage, and so did your father. The men pick their wives.” 

He paused before leaning forward a bit in the bed, asking, “...Why are women so damn stubborn these days?”

“Cause this isn’t the fifties, that’s why!” She exclaims.

He takes a deep breath as he mutters, “Now if I become as dramatic as you and die right here on the spot, you’ll be very upset with me.” 

He lets a few minutes of silence pass before he says, “…With your father not here, I won’t have anyone to protect you when I’m gone, Sayuki.”.

She sits up a bit, hearing as he becomes serious. She comes closer to him on the bed as she lays her head on his shoulder, “I can take care of myself, Grandpa.”

Her grandfather takes her small hand into his large, calloused one, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. He sighs, “You may be a strong young woman, but you’re too reckless. It’s not safe in this world. No matter how prepared you are to defend yourself.” 

He squeezes her hand slightly, “When you asked me the regrets I have—it made me think, with the kind of family I have, who’s going to protect my Mago when I’m gone? The people that hate me, the people that won’t be able to hurt me because I’m gone, so they hurt you?”

Arranged marriage sounded silly to her, but with the family she had, she understood where her grandfather was coming from. He wasn’t doing this to force anything on her. He just wanted to make sure she was safe—even without him. 

She squeezes his hand, giving him a kiss on the cheek as she suggests, “Maybe I can talk to him. But he needs to apologize. If he doesn’t, I’m not agreeing to this, is that fair?”

Her grandfather grunts again, his expression unchanging as a soft sigh escapes him, “He’s not a man to grovel. And you’ve already left a bad first impression. He won’t apologize for anything. That’s how we raised them, “He pauses for a few moments before giving her hand a tight squeeze again. 

“....But I will speak to him.” He finalizes, his voice low.

“See! Don’t you feel better when you talk things out instead of being violent? A lot of your issues would’ve been solved better that way,” she gives him a smile.

Her grandfather grunts once more, his gaze fixed on the window away from her, “Violence is good when there’s nothing else to talk about. But I’m glad you feel better—because you’ll be going with him to fetch some groceries to cook dinner tonight.”

She immediately pulls her hand back, stepping off the bed as she says, “Huh? A meal? Who he’ think he is—Buddha?”

“Sayuki,” He warns. 

He takes a deep breath, before continuing to speak, “You’re going to go to the store. Then you’ll come back here and cook for him. And maybe by then, you’ll have managed to impress him with your lovely personality.”

“Why can’t Kenji just go with me? You want me and Toji to go, alone, as if I don’t want to put a fork up his ass? You said you don’t want me traveling to Kyoto without him anyways,” she crosses her arms.

“Gengo,” her grandfather snaps, “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I won’t break your ass in two. Toji will go with you. I’m tired of arguing with you. I want to take a nap.”

“Well go take your old man ass nap, then!” She exclaims, “And now you’re not getting any of your favorite fruits!” 

She opens the slide door, shrieking as a tall frame stands on the side of the wall, instantly recognizing the cigarette that hangs between the dark pink lips she’d seen days before. 

She exasperates, “Great—this was a set up! I don’t like anybody in this house.”

Her grandfather chuckles gruffly, a low, amused sound, just as Toji takes a long drag of his cigarette. He glances her way, still leaning against the wall as he speaks, “Good to see you too. I can feel the love.”

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere recovering from third degree burns?” She continues walking, making her way back towards the living room, purposely walking fast in hopes that she’d lose him.

Toji pushes off the wall, easily catching up behind her as he questions, “Why are you so hellbent on avoiding me?”

“Hm, I don’t know—maybe cause you told me all I would be is a good fuck? You remember that?” She pushes the door open to the living room, stepping back onto her yoga mat.

“Yeah, I remember clearly.”

He glances over her, adding, “Although, you’re a lot more interesting than I thought you’d be when this all started.”

She sighs, “If you’re doing this for some brownie points from my grandfather, we can wrap this up quick as fuck, Fushiguro. I’m not sensitive, okay? But what you said hurt my feelings. I was being nice to you, even if I wasn’t keen on this arranged marriage thing in the first place. I need to finish stretching, so are we done?”

At her words, Toji takes a puff from his cigarette, before taking it out of his mouth and crushing it out. 

“I’m here to apologize.”

She crosses her arms over each other, raising an eyebrow at that,  “Are you saying that because someone asked you to?”

“Why were you so pissed about some words that came out of my mouth?” He questions, “You could’ve easily ignored them.“

“You don’t even know me. You assumed that I’m some airhead ass girl that’s looking to be sold to the highest bidder. Well I’m not. I have my own dreams and ambitions, none of them involving a man unless I decide that for myself.” 

Toji looks at her for a few moments in silence. He runs a hand through his dark hair, before speaking once more. 

“So I hurt your feelings.” he mutters. “And you’re not some airhead. Anything else I should know?”

His stare was intense at times, and it made her feel naked under the SKIMS army green romper she wears, headband and glasses pulling her hair out of her face. Facing him, she reaches down to grab for her ankles, stretching her legs out as she huffs, “That’s your form of an apology?”

He does take the time to watch her stretch, but doesn’t comment on it, just saying, “Goddamn, girl. I’m trying. I’ve never apologized to someone without a gun to my head.” 

He takes a step forward, his head lowered as he stares down, now practically upside down with her. 

“I have a habit of saying shit I don’t mean. So I’m sorry. You can throw some more scorching ass tea on me again if you want.”

She pulls her hair out of her face as she stands up, looking around the expression on his face. It’s the same—eyebrows low, waiting for a response. But it doesn’t lack sincerity.

 She sighs, leaning down as she begins rolling up her yoga mat, “I’m not gonna do that. My grandpa will throw me into a pit of fire if he hears I assaulted you again.”

He watches her roll up the yoga mat, “You’ still mad at me?”

She looks up at him, tilting her head as she questions, “Do you want me to be?“

“I don’t know.”

He glances down at her, eyes lingering for a moment on her exposed skin, before he returns his gaze to her face, “If you’re not mad, what are you?”

“Ready to take this long ass train ride to Kyoto,” she finalizes, making her way around him, “I need to go shower.”

“What, no invite?”

“And somehow you’ve managed to lose points again,” she dismisses, slamming the door shut to her bedroom. 

When comes out of her bedroom an hour later, she steps into the hallway to glance along the full body mirror—as she usually did. She pulled her dark hair behind her ear as it was in straightened layers, her usual makeup along her face that consisted of cat eyed extensions, her lip combo of brown and mauve, lower eyelid filled with the matching dark brown of her lips. Her leather jacket clung to her frame, showing off a bit of her midriff as her pants mimicked the tops material, hips desperately wanting to bust out the seams. 

She notices Toji along the wall, tilting her body to the side as she states to him, “I don’t know what shoes to wear.”

Toji’s eyes flicker her way, a brief, almost unnoticeable glance at her frame, then back to her face, then back to her frame. He’ll shamelessly admit that his jaw tightened, and maybe he felt his dick jump. 

“You’ asking for my opinion?”

“Jiji is the worst dressed man on the planet, and Kenji is hiding so—yes.” 

She eyes him in the mirror as he walks behind her, turning her head as she notices the look he gives her. She raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“You look good as fuck, you know that?”

“You’re not telling me what shoes I need to wear,” she almost pouts, “I wanna go before it hits noon!”

Toji doesn’t respond right away, just looking her up and down again, his gaze lingering for a few seconds on her hips, before he mutters, “You’re hard headed as hell. I said you looked good. I didn’t say what shoes you should wear. If it’s gonna make you hurry up, you should wear heels.”

“‘Kay’,” she turns around, making her way back into her room with a twist to her hips. She finds a pair of her Dior black pumps, knowing she’d be fine in those for most of the day as they were comfortable. She sprays herself of her vanilla scent, shaking her head from side to side, throwing her head back to fix her hair. 

“You don’t have to watch me, you know.”

He pushes off the wall again with his foot, moving toward her now. He’s a very imposing man, his form broad and tall. He’s at least a full foot and a half taller than her.

“My fault. I have a hard time looking away. You’ ready?”

She grabs her purse as she nods, “Mhm,” giving him a quick head to toe. He’s more simple in his clothes, a long black sleeve that hugs his muscular frame, belt, jeans and hefty boots along his feet, hair tossed around the sculpted sharpness of his face. Her eyes flick down to his wrist as she sees the ink hiding beneath the material, coming forward as she pulls it farther up to fully cover it, “The point of your Irezumi is that it’s supposed to be hidden.”

His wrist feels like hot iron under her fingertips. He can’t help but look down at her as she touches his wrist, her head slightly tipped back to look up at him. Fuck, she’s gorgeous from this angle. 

He raises an eyebrow as he grunts, “I know that,” allowing her to fix his clothing.

“I can see it on the back of your neck too,” she points out, reaching up, wrapping her fingers lightly in between his neck and back, “You should put a jacket on.”

The tightness on his jaw returns, his gaze fixed on her as his voice drops to a low murmur, “Are you gonna let go any time soon?”

She hesitates, her fingers still sitting on his upper back as she questions, “Am I making you uncomfortable?” She then fully pulls herself back, “I’m sorry.”

“Did I say that?” 

“No.”

“Then why are you apologizing?”

Before she can reply, he’s already going around her, heading down the hallway to pull the Harley Davidson leather jacket over his body, her eyes also taking notice of the M9 gun he places in the back of his pants. He nods his head in the direction of the door, and she follows after, not before quickly diving into the room to give her grandfather a kiss goodbye. 

The train ride had been…interesting for her to say the least. With it being the weekend, it was one of its busier days, the train compact with people to a point where they had to stand. Sayuki leaned her back against the window of the train as Toji hovered over her, hand gripping the bar up top. When the train came to a stop, everyone began slanting forward, trying to catch their weight on themselves. Toji’s body connected to hers, pressing his chest lightly against her nose to keep her from moving. 

She inhaled quietly, the scent of his cologne trapping her nostrils, his jaw touching the top of her head making her heart speed up a bit.

He tried not to be too obvious as he watched her from his view, but damn, she was pretty like this too. Under him like this. It felt like she belonged there.

It didn’t become any better the moment they arrived in the bustling streets of Kyoto. The cherry blossoms hung along the top of the buildings, brightly lit colored signs coaxing in their next customer. There was a feeling coming to him he’d never experienced before, watching as she politely spoke to people who passed her, talked up the people who worked within the stores, complimented each woman's outfit she saw. Hell, she’d even crouched down, sneaking the sample of food offered to her to a homeless cat mewling close by an alleyway.

Toji was starting to realize just how opposite their personalities were, but God, she had a certain…charm to her. He’d been silent, watching her with a blank expression as she interacted with everyone they passed, never breaking that smile. Toji was gruff, blunt, intimidating—didn’t bother to look at anyone twice. Yet she was the opposite in every way. How could they ever be compatible?

She makes her way into a smaller market, empty as she knew it was more expensive than the ones on the outside. But this was usually where she bought all of her fresh produce. She glances at the man at the counter, seeing as he flicks his eyes up to her, sitting himself up more straight—as if he had to keep his attention on her. 

She looks around, “Is there anything in particular you like to eat?” She questions, turning herself towards Toji who stays close to the front door, lighting a cigarette between his lips.

Toji takes a long puff from the cigarette resting between his lips, his dark eyes following her through the small shop.

He takes a moment before replying, “I like fish.”

His eyes glance over her form, her ass practically calling to him in those pants. She was sexy without even trying. 

“How about Sashimi? Are you okay with yellowtail?” 

She’s so concerned with his taste buds, Toji only seems to notice the grimace the man at the counter continues giving her.

He looks back at her, and while his eyes are still focused, his tone is a bit more softened as he replies, “Yeah, that’s fine,” taking another long breath from the cigarette between his lips.

“Okay,” she says softly, talking more to herself as she decides how she wants to cook the fish. When she has all of her ingredients, she comes up to the register as she sees the fruits are behind the counter. She greets, “Ohayo gozaimasu, do you have fresh strawberries by chance?”

“No strawberries today,” he doesn’t return her greeting, cutting straight to her question as it’s nowhere near friendly. 

She frowns a bit, “Are you sure? I come here for them often, the lady that works usually gives me a good amount.”

“I said we don’t have any,” he replies again, his eyes lingering over her, “Are you done?” 

He’s clearly not looking at her in a very favorable way, a look of irritation and disdain written on his face.

From Toji’s stance, he can see behind the counter, looking directly at a box of what looks to hold strawberries. And as he notices the man now glaring at him, he raises an eyebrow, pulling the cigarette down from his lips, blowing out a puff. When Sayuki notices this as well, she turns back to Toji, putting together that he may have known Toji from being a part of the Yakuza. The owners of this store had to be from a clan that wasn’t too fond of them. 

She then says, “We’re not coming here to cause any trouble, I just wanted my strawberries. I can buy a bundle of them?”  She offers, beginning to rummage her purse for the money.

“We don’t serve the likes of you people,” the cashier spits.

And from the way he looks at her in disgust, it feels personal. Her eyebrows lower against her face, hating the way that once again—her feelings are hurt. 

She sighs, “It’s fine. Let’s just go.”

Toji’s jaw clenches, his entire body stiffening. Something about the way her expression broke had his blood boiling.

“Go? Yeah, nah. I’m good on’ that.” 

When he pushes himself off the wall, he’s already standing in front of the counter. In one swift motion, the shriek from this man fills the entire store as Toji has him by his shirt, tugging him halfway over the counter. He fights against the one hand holding him in a effortless yet painful grip, shouting as Toji casually sighs, “Shut up,” raising his cigarette, ashing the man on his forehead. He then takes it back to his lips as he talks, “Now see, we didn’t even have to do all this,” removing the gun from the back of his pants, tapping it against the side of the man’s cheek.

Sayuki steps back, eyes wide as she panics, “Toji! It’s fine!” 

It’s like he doesn’t even hear her, his eyes fixated on the trembling man in his hands.

“Strawberries, right?” 

When the man replies with a stutter, “Y-Yes, sir,” Toji’s expression doesn’t soften, “You got ‘em in back?”

He nods his head quickly, whimpering again, “Y-yes, sir.”

The sight of that man that just had so much mouth for Sayuki, now stuttering and terrified in Toji’s hold, Sayuki can’t help the slightly scared giggle that stumbles from her lips, shocked at what she’s witnessing.

That single sound of laughter reaches his ears, catching his attention as he slightly turns to glance her way, “Oh you like that shit, huh?”

 When he looks back at the cashier, his voice drops even deeper, “Apologize to the pretty lady.” 

The man replies instantly, “Yes, yes! I’m so sorry!” 

Sayuki is still giggling, watching as Toji shoves the man back so hard that he knocks into the wall of objects behind him, nearly falling onto the floor. He presses his gun back into his pants, adjusting his jacket as he mutters, “‘Made me get all out of character,” before he says, “Go get the strawberries before I actually get mad.” 

The man scrambles on shaky legs, pulling out the box of fruit behind him as he says, “T—Take them! Take everything you need!”

Sayuki politely takes two cartons as she gives him a smile, “Thank you,” as Toji tugs the register closer to him, knocking his fist down to it, watching as it opens, pulling cash out of the object. 

She shakes her head, “Now you’re doing too much.” 

“They don’t call me a criminal for nothin’, baby,” he puffs out some smoke, “You’ hungry?” 

She sighs, keeping her complaints to herself as she puts all her groceries within her tote bag as she sighs, “Starving, actually.”

“Good.”

He takes one last drag from the cigarette, before flicking it to the floor, watching as the man flinches, thinking he was gonna toss it towards him. 

“C’mon,” he gruffs, “It’s on me. Or him, in this case.”

They make it to a restaurant a couple of blocks down, Sayuki placing the strap of her tote against the chair behind her, giving a polite smile as the waiter places the food down against the table. She glances up at Toji, taking the mini slice of pizza as she questions, “Are you gonna smoke in every building we go to?”

“You gonna bother me every time I do?” he shoots back.

She scrunches her nose, “You’re supposed to be nice to me. Wanna bite of my pizza?” She offers, raising the slice towards him.

He raises a dark eyebrow, a huff of a laugh leaving him as he leans forward, his jaw parting slightly as she brings the pizza to his mouth, biting into it. When she pulls her hand back, he chews silently before replying, “I didn’t shoot that dumbass in the store, and I just took a bite of your food without arguing. I’m Peter Pan at this point.”

The laugh that falls from her mouth is bubbly, wrapping her full lips around her straw. Once again, she’s back to noticing him staring at her, she raises an eyebrow as she says, “Why are you always just looking?”

“Can’t help it. Got some pretty ass lips.”

“Quit flirting,” she moves her hair behind her shoulder, glancing down at her phone to distract herself from the warmth that comes along her face.

She then hears him remind, “You never told me how school was going.”

She peers her head up, “Why do you care now?”

He doesn’t even look phased by the question, “Can’t I ask? You’d rather I don’t show any interest in you?”

She sighs a bit, “I don’t think you’d know anything about it.” 

Toji’s eyebrows raise up at her response, “Why you’ said that shit like I’m uneducated?” 

He leans in closer, his knee now touching hers beneath the table, the feeling intimate, “Talk to me.” 

She tilts her head, trying to adjust her knee away from his, but it’d be too obvious to completely shift the way she sits. So she leaves it there. 

“I’m tryna’ get my Bachelors in Science. Meaning I have to take some stupid ass, hard ass class like Pathophysiology. They teach shit like that in the Mafia handbook since you know everything?” 

“You don’t need a degree to know how the human body works, baby,” he replies, “Seen a lot of dead bodies in my time.”

“Gross,” she dismisses, “Hearing that makes it all the more worse. This is harder than college advanced math for me. Maybe I’m just stupid or something,” she presses her lips together, leaning her head in the palm of her hand, placing her elbow against the table. He can see the change in her expression, the way her mood visibly drops. 

“Baby,” he sighs, her heart fluttering a bit at the pet name, “You can’t really think I was callin’ you stupid.”

“I know you weren’t. It’s just— I’ve taken this class twice, and I’m someone who believes shit happens for a reason—maybe this isn’t my path, cause I’d be able to pass if it was meant for me, right?” She blinks, her lashes fluttering heavily.

“Or,” he interjects, “Maybe you need to learn how to ask for help instead of just assuming you’re incapable of passin’.” 

He can see her brain processing, a slow flicker of shock and confusion in her gaze. When she just stares at him, silent, he confirms, “You don’t gotta deal with all your problems alone.”

“This is where you just say I’m pretty and my brain is big,” she rolls her eyes, picking a pepperoni slice off her pizza, chewing against it to distract herself.

“Baby, I’ll call you pretty whenever you want. But I’d like it even more if you’d admit you’re smart without me havin’ to remind you.”

“My dad was really good at math, it must’ve skipped a generation,” she gives a weak smile, a tinge of sadness hidden beneath her expression. 

Toji’s jaw clenches at the sight of such a weak smile on her face. Something about how sad she looked bothered him, and maybe he wanted to get back that bubbly expression she’d just had moments ago. 

“You’re smart, Sayuki. It never skipped a generation.”

She tilts her head a bit as she replies, “I think you’re just saying that cause you have a lil’ crush on me.”

“Damn, guess I’ve been figured out.” 

That actually makes her giggle, and to see that return to her face does make him relax a bit. She then offers, “Want me to feed you again?”

He glances down at the offer, looking back up at her, his head tilting a bit as he grins, “You miss my mouth already? Greedy ass.”

The stark contrast of their first interaction up until now was nothing that Sayuki had ever expected. She wasn’t the one to believe in fairytales, or have these high hopes when it came to the possibility of a relationship. But this was something she hadn’t felt with anyone in a while—romance. 

Maybe she was starting to like him— maybe she was love bombing him. She wasn’t entirely sure. She noticed small things, like anytime his stride was longer than hers, he’d slow down to walk more behind her. They were now walking through the quiet night in between two buildings, planning to make their way back to the train. 

When she caught onto his purposeful walking tactic, she took hold of his hand, tugging him forward a bit as she became annoyed, “You can walk faster.”

“You keep tuggin’ on my arm like that, I’ll think you’re desperate for me to touch you or somethin’.”

She rolls her eyes, “Don’t be cute. I’m not.”

But as she feels his long strides slow down, she turns behind herself, now feeling as her back is being lightly pressed along the wall. Her head tilted up as his jaw reached her nose, his body having to hover for her comfortability.

He places sturdy hands on either side of the wall, pinning her in place. His eyes hold a dangerous gleam in them, the playful attitude continuing as he looks down to her. 

“You’re quiet. Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

He leans down, his face a lot closer than before, the distance miniscule. 

She takes a deep breath, kneeling her face closer to his, scanning the dark grey of his eyes. She then admits, “I um…I had a nice time with you today.”

“You did, huh?” he muses, “Good.” 

She smacks her lips at that, turning her face away. One of his hands leaves the wall, moving to grip her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting her face to look back at him. He hums, “What other shit you wanna admit while you’re at it?”

“That I like you,” she blinks up at him, “And…that I hope you saying you liked me too in the restaurant wasn’t just talk.”

His hand moves up further, his fingers moving along the skin of her cheek slowly, “How about you quit doubtin’ me?”

One thing he’s good at doing is making her easily irritated. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks at him, “Well why can’t you just say it again? You always gotta answer my responses with a question. You can just be so—“

Another thing she couldn’t stand about him—he was smooth. There should’ve been no way that he caught the rest of her words within his mouth, gripping her in a kiss to shut her up. His hand grasps the back of her neck, tugging her hair a bit to keep her head tilted up. A baby gasp pulled from her mouth, tugging at the bottom of his shirt to keep herself steady. His mouth was warm, tongue heavy, her eyes slowly fluttering shut at the taste of him.

And god, that gasp of hers was music to his ears, pushing his tongue further into her mouth in response as the hand once on the wall slid down to grip at her hip, using it to pull her against his body. It wasn’t rushed, instead slow, his tongue twisting slowly around hers, his teeth catching gently against her bottom lip in a way that couldn’t be an accident.

She’s so drowned within him, she has to reach up and clasp her fingers around his jaw, pushing his mouth back as she presses her forehead to his, breathlessly giggling, “We’re gonna miss the train…”

He leans forward again, and for a second, she thinks he’s going to push for another kiss, but his nose brushes against hers instead, his tone lower as he questions, “You’ that eager to go home?”

“I’m just—“

“Yo, Yakuza boy!”

They both halt, Sayuki pulling herself away as she looks to the end of the alleyway, seeing two men beginning to walk towards them. They weren’t familiar to her, but she had a feeling this was men from another clan. The way they walk towards them—it’s not inviting in the slightest. 

“We heard how you robbed the market a couple blocks down, thought we’d come politely ask for that money back.” 

She knew Toji wasn’t afraid. But in the sense of her being with him, she could see the way he lifted his head, glaring at the two. He lightly took her body within his arm and pushed her behind himself.

“We can do this shit later. I got a woman with me,” he warns, “Your cashier boy pissed me off, I was teaching him a lesson.”

The two men glance between each other, before going back to Toji, taking another couple of steps forward. One of them grins, his tone mocking as he responds, "And? We didn't ask for the life story."

Sayuki grips her fingers against the jacket he wears, trying to pull him back as she muffles, “Let’s go, Toji. We aren’t in Tokyo—“

“Leaving so soon?” 

She turns, seeing another man coming from the opposite end of the alleyway. They were now surrounded, and this one carried a crowbar within his palm.

Toji tenses visibly, his arm tightening around her as he glares at the three men surrounding them, his eyes flickering from each one.

“You’ got a fuckin’ death wish?”

“I think you do,” one of the guys counters, “You know this is our turf. Now shit has to get a little ugly in return. We’ll just strip you down, call it even, cool?”

Sayuki steps from behind him a bit, coming towards the man with the crowbar as she quickly says, “I don’t mind bringing the stuff I took from the market back. It’s no problem—“

But just in that millisecond, it’s as if someone cut the lights off in her brain. She doesn’t register the knuckles that crush against her face until she slams against the ground, her hair falling over her jaw that throbs the minute she feels pain register. She grunts, her ears ringing, palm dragging against the cement to try to bring herself to reality as she can now hear fighting above her.

Everything seems to go silent for Toji when he watches her fall to the ground, a heavy rush of red flooding his vision that he’s never felt before. When he sees her hands desperately gripping the ground beneath her trying to get up, a voice in his brain snaps, and he’s charging at the guy that hit her before any sort of rationality can make an appearance. All three men are surrounding him as he swings, forcing his weight down into every punch he throws.

Within seconds, one of the men is clutching his abdomen, another bent over on the ground, and the third—crowbar in hand—struggling to stay upright as he raises the bloody metal weapon in the air to swing down against Toji’s head.

Her vision is a bit blurry, hand trembling as she reaches for the wall close to her, eyes opening as she begs, “T—Toji…stop…” so quiet that she knew he couldn’t hear it. 

She could see as he picked up the man bent on the ground, beginning to plummet his fist into his face. He won’t stop.

She can hear the blood against his knuckles, the crack of bone shifting beneath his punch, the small grunt each time he swings forward. Her body feels cold, a sense of fear exhilarating her skin like no other. Seeing him mercilessly beat this man was a reminder of who he could be—who he was.

“Toji…” she pushes her voice out more, “…Please stop! You’re going to kill him…”

As she pleads, the punches continue. She watches as the man with the crowbar drops the weapon, pulling a pocket knife from his pants, rushing over as he lunges into Toji’s side. That makes Sayuki almost sober up, watching as he drops the man in his hands, hitting the ground with him.

Toji grunts out in pain, his hand moving to grip his side. He can feel the way more blood pours from the wound, soaking the side of his pant leg and jacket.

An anger she hadn’t expected seeps through her entire body. Even with a throbbing jaw, a weary vision, she scurries forward as she grabs the crowbar the man originally held, raising it as she swung harshly at him, watching as he slammed against the wall from impact. She reaches within the back of her jacket, pulling a bigger pocket knife as she jabs it within his side, using her strength to hold him against the wall, ignoring the curse he lets out. 

She grits her teeth, “Now you’ll both have matching scars,” twisting the knife within his body, ignoring his painful shout.

Toji pushes himself up with a low grunt at the sound of her voice, his hand still covering the spot where he was now bleeding, pissed at how own vision was becoming blurry, hearing the shouts of the man, seeing his shadow glide by as he took off from the alleyway, knife still within his side.

Sayuki throws the crowbar within her hand, rushing over to Toji as she drops to her knees in front of him, pressing her hand against his wound as her eyes chaotically scatter over his pained look, “Hey—hey—look at me…” Her own hand becomes painted red, “Shit!”

Toji’s eyes are screwed shut for a couple of seconds as her hand presses against his, body flinching at the pain. But when he registers her voice again, his eyes snap open. The feeling of her hands against his skin is enough to help clear the darkness that was starting to take over his mind. His hand moves from his side to grab hers.

“I’m fine,” he mutters.

“No you’re not,” she croaks, her vision returning to a blur, clearing as warm tears slide down her freckled cheeks, “You’re not. I’m calling for help, okay? P—Please stay awake,” she’s holding his wound, clutching the side of his neck, her heart beating outside of her chest.

Toji’s eyes look at her, seeing the worry across her face. He knew he had to stay awake, not only for her but for his own damn sake if he didn’t want to bleed out in some alleyway— her touch on his neck was making it near impossible for him to keep his head up.

 He huffs out a short breath, “Don’t…call anybody.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid right now!” She softly panics, fingers trembling as blood rushes over the screen of her phone, dialing someone, anyone at the moment. The phone slides farther away from them as she tries to pull him up, desperately taking his jacket off to press it against his stab. 

She’s rambling in panic, “They hurt you—I’m so sorry…”

Toji feels his balance stagger a bit as she pulls him up, the action forcing a hiss of pain from his mouth. He leans his weight against the wall, his eyes flickering to the phone on the ground. His jaw clenches, the thought of any of this being her fault pissing him off, “S—Stop apologizin’…not now…”

“I can’t,” she cried, terrified at the sight of him, her face entirely red, breathing unleveled as her chest heaved.

Toji’s heart twists at the sound of her crying. He wants to reach up to wipe her tears, but the pain in his side makes it nearly impossible. 

“Don’t cry,” he practically pleads with her, the thought of her crying any harder making his head spin.

In Toji fashion, he raises his free hand up to reach for her body, pulling her close to him. He wasn’t dramatic, but seeing his vision blur might’ve had him tense, and if he did pass out, he had to make sure she was still there. 

He grits out, “You…had a knife on you this whole time?” 

She blinks through her tears, sniffling as she registers the question. She nods her head, trying to keep herself calm. Even stabbed, he was able to form some type of amusement, a tired huff of a chuckle blowing against her face as he said, “You really are my fuckin’ wife.” 

She can’t help but laugh in return, the weakness of his voice making her cry harder. Toji couldn’t help it, holding her felt good, especially in his current condition. His hand moves to tangle within the ends of her hair, pulling her closer to his chest as he leans his head back.

He couldn’t tell how much time passed as the lights of Kenji’s Cadillac Escalade illuminated the dark alleyway. But it didn’t matter, he’d passed out—Her touch being the last thing he could feel.

                                     𝓐ᥫ᭡

SAYUKI LOOKED WITHIN THE MIRROR, head in her lap as the housekeeper continued to press ice along her bruised jaw, tuning in and out of her grandfather's chastising. Even in sickness, even on his deathbed, the man had a voice on him. 

She sighed, “You’re going to run your blood pressure up if you keep yelling like that, Jiji.” 

He makes a clicking noise with his tongue, the action clearly disapproving. His eyes glared at the bruise on his granddaughter’s face.

“Of course I’m going to raise my goddamn blood pressure. You were assaulted. I’m going to have those bastards heads sent back to their families!”

“Me and Toji stole from a market in Kyoto,” she reminds, “We didn’t know the store belonged to a different turf.”

“I don’t care where you were—“

He grits the words out between his teeth, his eyes narrowing. Kenji, standing in the doorway, gives the older man a look telling him to relax. The old man huffs, closing his eyes for a moment.

“How does your face feel?”

“Like I fell off my bike, Ojiichan,” she softly replies, “Is Toji alright?” Her patience is wearing thin, no one telling her any updates of him since they took him down to the basement, calling along their underground doctor.

The older man sighs, “The doctor stitched him up. It appears he didn’t lose that much blood…he was lucky,” he grumbles, his eyes flickering back to her face, “You two should’ve known better. We don’t need another incident like—“ 

He stops himself, not wanting to bring up the past. He then says, “He’ll be in one of the guest rooms tonight. You should go check on him. I would like to go to sleep.”

She knows he’s upset, but she doesn’t want to make it any worse. She leans down as she gives him a kiss on the cheek, bowing as she allows the housekeeper to get him ready for bed. She gave herself time to relax, showering off the blood on her hands and body, throwing an oversized tee on herself, slipping along her house slippers as she goes in search of the guest bedroom along the opposite side of the house. It’s dim within the hallway, quiet as she pads her feet against the floor. She doesn’t know why she feels nervous. She stands in front of the sliding door, halting herself there as she takes a quiet breath. She knocks along the wooden part, not wanting to intrude.

Toji is sitting at the edge of the bed, shirtless as he looks over his stitched up wound. He had scars all over him, but the newest one was different.

The doctor was right—One wrong move and he could’ve died. That thought makes his jaw clench.

He huffs out a breath, replying, “Come in.”

She slides the door open, closing it behind herself as she looks over him, now seeing his Irezumi face to face. The colors strike upon his skin, body painted in ink from the top of his back to his tailbone, traveling all across his arms. It’s like he wears another shirt. Even through the ink, she can see the stitches along his side. She comes forward as she kneels herself in front of him, placing a gentle hand close to his injury as she asks, “How does it feel?”

Toji’s eyes watch her as she moves before him, taking in all of her features in that oversized shirt and her house slippers. Her face is bare, freckles prominent, dark hair curly and damp, stretching down her back as she’d just gotten out of the shower. He had never seen her look so small —maybe because she rarely looked so vulnerable.

He reaches out to place his hand on top of hers, his eyes flickering to the sight of his wound, his expression showing how bothered he was. 

“Hurts like a motherfucker.”

He immediately catches hold of the bruise against her jaw, grunting to her, “Tell me it hurts. Don’t lie to me.”

“It doesn’t,” she promises, “I’m fine.”

Toji makes a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. He brings his other hand to her chin, gently turning it to see her from a different angle in the light. 

“I know you’re pissed off, but I’d rather you just say that you’re glad I’m okay,” she tries to lightly joke, “My grandpa’s given me enough shit about my injury.”

His head cocks to the side as he gives her a look, “You seem to know me already.”

His grip on her chin is still tight, his thumb softly moving across the skin, “You have no idea how pissed I am that this shit happened….all because of me.”

She exhales, her mind flashing of memories she didn’t want to be reminded of. She rubs her thumb across his arm, flicking her eyes up as she admits, “The moment I saw you on the ground…it just—it made me remember how I felt…seeing my dad like that.” 

She hates that she feels her body go cold, finding it so hard to talk about this. 

“It happened all the same—walking from the market, being trapped by members from another clan. They stabbed him, killed him—enjoyed how I cried for them to stop.” 

She can feel the tears in her eyes. She swipes her fingers under her cheeks, feeling her hands trembling as she shudders, “I just…I was so scared,” she tremors, “You can’t do shit like that, Fushiguro—“ she's hyperventilating at this point, “I can’t lose someone else like that…” she brings her hands to her face, sharply inhaling as she full on cries.

Toji feels his chest shift at the sound of her broken voice. Seeing her cry because of him, seeing her so terrified—it does something to him.

He pulls her from her kneeled position to place her in his lap, his arms wrapping around her body to hold her close. He didn’t say a word for a while, letting her cry into his bare chest as his voice lowered, “I’m sorry.”

She cries into his neck, clutching him tighter, feeling all of her emotions pouring through her body. Her cries are then encapsulated by his mouth as he grunts, “C’mere,” pulling her into a kiss, the mixture of her mouth trembling beneath his making him groan.

It’s messy. Her tears mixed within their kiss. Her body shaking between his, her sobs breaking against his lips as he continues to kiss her. Toji felt a pang in his chest at the action, his arms pulling her body closer to his, fingers tightening around the shirt she wore. His injured body ached, but having her so close to him like this was worth it.

Toji’s hand moves to the side of her face, pulling her in for a deeper kiss, tongue dragging her mouth around with his. She tasted like warmth, a home that he never knew.

His free palm comes under her shirt, gripping the skin of her ass to twist her back onto the bed, body now hovered above hers. She quickly hesitates against his mouth, “Your stitches, Fushiguro…” pressing her hand along his chest, not wanting to hurt him.

“Did I say you hurt me?” 

“No—“

“So give me your mouth, I want you bad as fuck right now,” his nose nuzzles against her neck, the ticklish pleasure making her eyes roll back slightly.

She pulls face down to meet him, bringing her lips close to his mouth as she says softly, “Go slow, please…” pressing their noses together, breathing hesitantly against his mouth.

Toji’s face darkens, his eyes looking intensely into her own as his pupils dilate. He wasn’t exactly a gentle man—but he wanted to try for her sake. 

He clutches her by her neck as he pulls their lips back together, head knocking back in a motion as he kisses her, the weight of his body overpowering even as he tries to be soft. His hand presses against the bare skin of her hip, dragging his thumb along the goosebumps forming. When Sayuki’s eyes flutter open, she flicks them up to the mirror above, engraving the ink along his back in her brain, locking her fingers into the back of his hair to have his mouth fall more into hers, dropping her lower lip to release a shaky breath.

Toji’s hair was soft between her fingers while his touch was firm along her hip. His tongue flicks out to catch her mouth just before it leaves his.

She reaches below herself as she arches her back off of the bed, face warm as she pulls the end of her shirt upward, peeling the material from her skin. To see his glare at the sight of her, she pulls his shoulder down to press her chest to his, hating how he stared.

“Don’t do that,” he grunts, raising himself back up, pulling one of her hands above her head as he slips his fingers through hers, eyes burning at the sight of her bare skin. Her brown nipples, caramel skin, she’s glowing beneath the dim light of the bedroom.

His mouth travels, sucking her nipples in between his full lips, her body arching towards him the more he lowers himself. His arm holding one of her hands keeps her in place, her body wanting to pull away, all while wanting to pull closer to him.

Toji’s tongue is rough and wet against her, tracing the skin of her neck line and collarbone. He wanted more of her—all of her. Her taste and her body makes his head spin. 

His body, firm and muscular keeps her pinned against the bed, her chest rising and falling heavily as he kisses down her stomach. Toji grumbles against her, biting the skin along her hip, “I can’t fuckin’ get enough of you.”

The sound of his voice makes her breathing become heavy, her thighs shuddering as he makes out with the skin of her leg, swirling his tongue up to her ankles, kissing along her feet—he was everywhere. It makes her grip the material of the sheet beneath her, his mouth gliding down to the back of her thigh, making her shakily release, “Toji…”

He loves the sound of his name on her lips, almost as much as he loves the taste of her skin. Her body shivers beneath his touch, her toes curling as he leaves a trail of kisses all the way back up her leg. 

He growls against her, “Say my name again,” he pleads, “Say it.”

His large frame is able to keep the intertwine of their palms together as lowers himself down, locking his other palm against the back of her thigh, tugging her lower half even closer. Her heart beating in her ears nearly implodes the moment she feels his mouth drag up the folds of her pussy that keep her clit hidden, and she full on gasps, the sound shuddering as her head knocks back against the pillow, breathlessly whining out, “T—Toji!…”

She’s warm and wet—thighs shaking as he holds her by the ankles, locking her knees against the sheets of the bed, tugging her down to meet the lap of his tongue. It’s flat against the nub of her clit that swells at the connection, her arousal collecting against his jaw, Sayuki’s skin trembling involuntarily as he’s already slurping.

She couldn’t remember the last man in between her legs. But Toji knew exactly what he was doing. She wants to snap her legs together, warmth forming along her cheeks as she desperately reaches for his hair, taking the air out of the room with her pouty gasps. His hands grip her ankles tighter, the spread of her legs making his mouth become deeper, Toji grunting as his nose pressed into her slick folds, tip of his tongue circling the sensitive bud before sucking it gently between his lips, giving opened mouthed kisses. 

"’Pussy never tasted like this,” he groans against her heated flesh, his voice low and husky with desire, “I could eat this shit all fuckin night." 

He’s back to lapping at her, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick drags, almost lost within her taste.

She shudders, “W—wait— baby—“ the pet name falls from her lips naturally, although she’s shy to release it, another pant coming from her as he raises her legs right in front of her face, closing them in so she isn’t able to see him eating away at her. 

She whimpers as her knees press a bit to her chest, dragging her nails against the skin of her thigh, laying her head against the pillow as she forces herself to fully relax. Her eyes flutter shut as she whines again, “Go slow, baby…” she keeps reminding him, “Gonna cum if you keep doing that…”

A deep growl vibrates through his throat, “Sensitive as fuck,” the vibrations sending pleasant tingles through her wet heat as he continues his assault. He’s pushing his mouth deeper, swirling his tongue around languidly, slow in his speed, weight in his efforts. He suckles the sensitive nub greedily, his lips sealing around it as he applies just the right amount of pressure.

The way he listens, his mouth runs off against her as he grunts, grinding her hips to lead back onto his tongue, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, baby—fuck,” sucking her pussy so sensually into his mouth, the sounds it creates—she does the worry of her pleas as her eyes come down, watching as she gushes unexpectedly into his mouth. Her upper body arches up as she trembles, gasping deeply within her throat as she cums.

A moan flies from her lips when she feels him spank her, leaning up to capture the broken sounds she makes, dragging his palms along the back of her knees, already locking her legs over his wide shoulders. Her mind is within a pleasured frenzy, and she has to tug her fingers back into gripping his hair, giving herself a sense of control as she pants again, “S—Slow, baby…please…”

Toji was anything but slow, his mind hazy and cloudy as he felt his body throb with need. She was soft—like everything he could’ve ever needed.   

His lips, wet and lush, move against her, a small grunt leaving his mouth, “I hear you,” he mumbles against her skin like a prayer,  his hands gripping her waist to pull her further against him. Her eyes knocked down to him removing his pants, hearing the slap of his tip kiss his abdomen briefly—it’s heavy, smacking politely against her clit, but the size made it impolite. 

He pulls his mouth back from hers, pressing their foreheads together to listen to her breathing, pleas within the music of her voice. It’s as if time halts itself, Toji taking her free hand and locking it back above her head with his, his other hand wrapping along her ankle, pressing it farther into the bed. His face frowns atop of hers, keeping a focused attention as his tip nudges in between her sensitive folds—Her lower body aches with a rush of pleasure as he sinks himself in, mixed with an erotic pain she hadn’t felt in so long. Her eyes fall shut as her head falls back into the pillow, her body shuddering as she whimpers, twisting his hair within her fingers as she knocks her forehead back to his. 

Their lips brush along each other as he rolls his hips forward, spreading her legs wider, it makes her stutter out a whimper again, “Baby—I can’t—Mmmph,” squeezing his palm as he holds her down, feeling as she tries to escape. 

“‘Not even in your shit for ‘real, baby,” he grunts against her lips, “Make this dick yours, you got more to take.” 

She moans brokenly at his voice, pulling his mouth down towards her throat, “M—move….”

Toji’s head drops into her neck, his teeth dragging against the spot where a violet bruise laid. Her cries were pretty, but her moans were prettier. 

He holds her in place as he pulls his head back to glance at her face, her skin flushed with heat. 

“It’s mine now, huh?” he asks, his voice low.

Her face is warm, pulling his mouth back to hide her face within his neck, sucking the skin there as she pitifully gasped in response to him grinding himself forward, feeling an arrogance pooling within his body.

Toji groans against her, his ego growing even more as he feels her mouth against his neck. She’s marking him just as much as he’s marking her, his head feeling fuzzy for more than one reason. He moves a hand to her jaw, his fingers gently holding her chin between his forefinger and thumb to force her face to his, “Let me see that pretty ass face.”

Her teary eyes blink up at him, bringing her tongue forward as she slides it along his mouth, essentially begging for a kiss.

Her tongue against his makes something in his brain short-circuit, his eyes closing as he opens his mouth and gives in to the plea, chuckling in between, “‘Needy as fuck for my mouth, even now.” 

It’s hot, wet and messy, both of them pressing their lips together to taste each other in a way that will never be enough. 

She whimpers to him, “Don’t laugh at me…” dragging her nails lightly along his back, trying not to form her mouth into a pout.

Toji’s eyes open in time to see the pout against her lips, he can’t help but release a low chuckle again at the sight of it. 

“I’d never,” he grunts, leaning in close enough that their noses brush together, a small grin on his face, “I need you too, baby. Talk to me.”

Her voice is small, her panting heavy within her chest as she keeps her nose brushed against his, admitting to him, “It f—feels good…”

Toji’s cheek presses further into hers, his face becoming stoic again, a sense of hunger returning. He’s gentle with his touch, his mind completely focused as he absorbs himself in her pleasured noises. 

“Yeah? Not hurtin’ you?” he asks, his voice gruff in her ear, his teeth nipping at the skin of her earlobe.

She shakes her head, pressing a soft kiss along his lips as she whimpers, “Just squeezing too hard on my wrist, baby…”

His grip instantly loosens from her wrists as her admission. He curses to himself, “Sorry,” he apologizes, rubbing his fingers along the skin to ease the pain from his large hands.

Feeling his attempts to be soft—it made her heart swell. A man that wasn’t emotional, wasn’t soft in the slightest, was trying just for her. It’s like crashing waves of pleasure rush her stomach as he rocks himself forward, making her deeply gasp, “R—right—t—there…”

The sound of the gasp mixed with the pleasure in her voice made Toji groan, his hips jerking against hers. He wanted her to be full of pleasure, wanted every inch of her to feel him—but the patience he had, it was leaving.

She blinked before she knew they were switching positions, trembling as she felt him smack her ass again, grunting to her, “On your stomach.”

This was…different. She’s now against her belly, chest to her back as his body hovered above. He clutches her neck from behind—his mouth is now against her ear, still using his free hand to hold her fingers against the sheets. He sinks his dick in, the heaviness of her ass clapping along his skin— her face contorts, her mouth lightly dropping as his hips become connected with the back of her thighs, tightening his palm against her throat.

His hand is firm against her throat, holding it in an intimate way that controls her. It’s possessive.

His mouth is hot against her ear, his voice a growl against her skin, “‘Just gonna have to take it,” he grunts, voice heavy and full of meaning as his hips drop down against hers, hand holding her in place, “‘Need you to feel me, baby. You feel it?” 

She knew he wouldn’t be able to be gentle for long. Here it was, that cocky, dominant side he’d been holding back. The sounds she makes—they’re loud, high-pitched. She’s mewling with each stroke as he swirls his hips down, Sayuki’s eyes rolled back, listening to the sounds their skin creates against the room, arching deeper into the bed as she embarrassingly moans, “Oooh, shit. Baby—I feel you…”

He grunts in response, his teeth biting her ear as she moans. She felt so tight around him. He’s not pulling halfway out like before—he’s now pulling back until his tip is halfway inside, sharply driving back in, watching arousal squelch more and more, filling to the brim to drip against his balls. He presses his body against hers, his chest flush against her back, moving his hand to the side of her face to hold her head in place as he growls in her ear, “‘Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, baby. Can’t even think straight anymore, huh?”

Her head is leaning back against his shoulder, tilting her eyes up to look up within the mirror on the ceiling as he clutches her jaw. She watches the muscles of his back flex, the color of his tattoos all along his skin, she shudders, gasping, “Yeahh, c—can’t think…”

He catches her gaze in the mirror, watching his body, the way his muscles were flexing. She’s staring at him, him—and the action makes his brain feel like it’s overheating. 

“You lookin’?” he groans, her voice wrecked as his grip on her jaw tightens.

She’s clawing at the sheets beneath her, inhaling deep, gasping dangerously as she whines, “Y—Yeah….don’t stop. Don’t stop…” she feels tears brimming within her eyes, a pleasure erupting within her body she’d never felt before.

She's sniffling, trembling, a small sob pulling from her lips, reaching behind to clutch for his hair again, pulling his mouth down to her throat. He’s cooing in her ear, “I know, baby.”

She drags her fingers into his scalp as she turns her head, “Kiss me,” she begs, rolling her hips back, “Please…”

Her back is arched against him, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat, watching the way her ass recoils against his skin—It drives him wild.  

His nose slides against her face to reach for her mouth, his tongue slipping past her lips, the kiss filthy and raw. He grunts to her, “Gonna fuckin’ marry you, gonna’ kiss you like this at our fuckin’ wedding.” 

He chuckles against her shuddering body, watching as she holds onto him for dear life. He won’t stop talking, “You never answered my question. This shit mine, huh?”

She’s full on crying, so wrapped up in the pleasure he gives her— her cheek is along the sheet of the bed, his body following down with hers, pressing his cheek against her jaw, dropping his hips down, earning a squeal in response. She groans, letting the sound drag into a loud moan, clutching her hand over her mouth as she softly cries, “I’m yours, fuck…don’t s—stop…”

His. She's his. The thought is almost his undoing, his heart beating heavily against his chest as he feels her crying, her body clinging to him like she’s lost if he leaves her. 

Her voice is broken as he speaks, a whine from the back of her throat as she tightens around him, “You hear me? I’m gonna marry your ass. Never gonna’ fuckin’ leave. Always gonna fuck you like this.”

He watches her tears stream down her face from the mirror above him, a dark desire stirring within him. It’s a gorgeous sight—her completely and utterly ruined from his touch. 

He grunts into her ear, “You gonna’ say yes?”

His palm locks around her parted mouth, sliding his fingers on her tongue, using the leverage to yank her back, skin applauding like gunshots within the room. The scent of his body is all around her, she’s moaning, turning her head back to look at him, “Yes ...yes…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You mean it?”

She can feel her hips falling into his, body becoming exhausted as she trembles, the scream that attempts to release from her lips inhales into a gasp, pulling her mouth down to muffle her sounds as she softly cries, “Mean it, Toji…”

Her words leave her in a whimper, the sound mixed into a sobbed moan, Toji can’t think—He feels like he’s on fire. The pleasure, emotions that course within their body come together in another kiss, her entire body spasming beneath him as she orgasms. Her sobs, her trembling, he can feel it, smell it, taste it. 

He whispers in her ear as he holds her, groaning as he releases with her, his voice completely wrecked, “Fuck—I got you, baby.”

There’s nothing left but their shaking bodies, their tangled limbs wrapped together, panting breaths, and the sound of the two against each other. He can’t get his arms to leave her. 

She grazes her nails along his arm, trying to take control of her breath as she whispers, “Gonna’ put me in a headlock if you told me any tighter…”

He loosens his grip, shifting to turn her body to face him without separating. He’s still inside her, and he won’t budge. He wipes his thumb along the tears on her face, “My bad, pretty.”

She frowns, “When’d you get soft on me? Didn’t know I’d have such a sweet bean of a husband,” she giggles, seeing him raise his eyebrow at that.

He hates that something in his heart melts at her words—but just like a man—he has to circle back to another point of her sentence. 

“Just when I was gonna’ be nice and ask what size ring you wear,” he smacks his lips, Sayuki gasping as he wraps his fingers along the back of her neck, pressing her face down into the sheets, “Now’ I gotta remind you who I am. Put that ass up, I’m not done with you yet.” 

[jack-o-cat]

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

At the moment, I only identify with the therian label. That being said, I am going through an identity crisis at the moment because I'm kinda feeling phantom limbs similar to that of an ars goetia from HB??? And now I'm trying to figure out if it's just a cameo shift or if I'm fictionkin or otherkin

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

I'm a northwestern wolf, red fox, and domestic cat. I occasionally experience phantom antlers that have me questioning if I'm also a fallow deer

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

Yes! I experience mild phantom shifts every now and then. How frequent they are will fluctuate randomly, though I can sometimes force one by thinking about my theriotypes. Yet, even when I force a shift, I can't control what limbs I end up feeling. Most of my shifts are that of my wolf theriotype. I've also experienced mental shifts, but they're less frequent and less intense.

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

I'm still learning that it's okay to let myself experience my therianthropy. Most of the time, I experience it in my social interactions, where I end up instinctively using cat body language when talking to people. There are also times where I have the urge to vocalize. Unfortunately, I often have to ignore it due to being around humans. It's an odd feeling. Sometimes it's like fighting a cough while other times it's barely even noticeable. I also spend a lot of time mourning the things I'll never be able to have or experience like unsheathing my claws, living with a pack, or curling my tail around myself. I feel uncomfortable doing quads sometimes because I'm hyper aware of the fact that my body isn't moving or built in the way that it should be. Besides that, I am comfortable with my humanity and embrace it as being another part of my multifaceted identity

5/ What do you think of the community?

From what I've seen, they seem really awesome!

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

Vocals. I don't get to do them often, but when I do they feel so much happier. Sometimes, phantom shifts also make me feel euphoric. Just the feeling of having a tail, muzzle, or paws is comforting to me. Quads is great too!

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

Occasionally. It's not so much that I hate being human, so much as I long for other features and abilities. It hurts that I can't have them

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

Take it slow. You don't have to figure all it out right away. Give yourself grace and the chance to be yourself, the rest will come with time

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

I don't have any gear yet, but I would love to have a tail, cat paw gloves, a mask, and ears

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

I'm pretty sure most of it comes from my autism. I feel that it may have influenced how I socialize and perceive myself. That being said, I also don't think that all of it comes from my autism. In the end, it's all just me being me

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

I don't know anyone to tag, so I guess this is just open to anyone who wants to take part!

If you are a alterhuman, reblog and answer these questions!

(don't be afraid to write a lot, do what you want ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠��)

1/ Which category of alterhumanity do you belong to?

2/ What/who is/are your type(s)? (if you have any)

3/ Do you experience shifts? If so, can you tell us your most common shifts and your strangest cameo shift (if you've ever had a cameo shift)?

4/ How do you experience your alterhumanity in everyday life?

5/ What do you think of the community?

6/ What are the things that make you most comfortable and euphoric in your alterhumanity?

7/ Are you experiencing species dysphoria?

8/ What advice would you like to say to a young alterhuman who has just awakened?

9/ Do you have/want to have gears?

10/ Do you know/have any theories about the origin of your alterhumanity? If so, tell us! (all beliefs are legitimate)

11/ Tag someone/a creature to answer these questions!ㅤᵕ̈

[cheeseceli]

Late wait

Pairing: idol!Lee Know × Gn!reader (established relationship)

Genre: fluff, domesticity, drabble

Request: Lee know with a "waiting for us" kinda vibe. Just being together in their own place with lots of domestic fluff. Dancing whenever, seeing movies whenever...

Warnings: mentions of food, Minho is an idol, the cats and the boys are here as well, reader and him live together

A/n: I simply love to write domestic moments | daily click

Minho finds it funny how the most beautiful things in life are always the simplest.

Coming from someone whose life is full of luxuries, he could understand why someone would be skeptical about his statement, but he couldn't be more truthful than that.

He already saw thousands of different people, dressed in fancy suits and drank expensive wine. The places he already went to were sometimes covered in gold, and if not, they'd have a red carpet and sculptures everywhere. He's not going to lie and say these things are bad, or that he despises them. On the contrary, actually. However, when you live a life of "too much", you learn how to appreciate what is simple.

His cats stepping on his face to wake him up. All the times he went somewhere random to camp. Seungmin's burnt barbecue and Felix' brownies. You. All the things that made his life easy.

As much as he loves all those things, maybe he should highlight you a little bit more. It's only fair, since you are the one who plays the major role in making him feel alive.

When Minho thinks about you, he thinks about how he loves to wake up early before some morning schedule and see how you're sleeping peacefully next to him. You always ask him to wake you up before he goes, but he never finds the strength in himself to disrupt your dreams. You have a whole collection of little notes he put next to the bed, apologising for not saying bye, but promising to bring food whenever he's back.

He also remembers dance nights. As he is a professional dancer and an idol, he thought he wouldn't want to move a single muscle the moment he gets home. However, whenever he comes home to you singing some random song on the radio, it's impossible to not hold your hand and start swaying according to the rhythm. You don't know how to dance. When he's with you, he suddenly forgets how to as well. In the end, it's just two fools in love, dancing how your heart tells you to.

Movie nights where none of you had luck picking what to watch, so you'd just sleep mid the boring show. Cooking homemade dinner and noticing you ran out of all the ingredients, so you have to run to the market. Visiting his parents every Sunday. Staying in the entire weekend with the cats because that's so much better than going out.

There are dozens of little moments like those that Minho could talk about. None of them was particularly special - they were all things that happened every day. Maybe that was the magic of it. Living was easy with those moments, with you.

Now he was coming back home. The day was full of different events. Tiring, extravagant, but nice. He was smiling. But now he only wanted to come home to you. He knew you were staying up late so you could welcome him and ask him how the day was. And as much as you've waited, he'd hug you with his entire being and never let go.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: kiss me (more)

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret @sheraayasherrecs @rockstarkkami @urlocalmultigroupfan (those I couldn't tag are in bold)

Dividers by @adornedwithlight | images 1, 2 and 3

[bandgie]

Kissing on New Years - SKZ OT8

Little drabbles of how I think skz would kiss reader during New Years! and yes MDNI18+ as always. no warnings idc to put any. happy New Years!!!! (divider from @/strangergraphics)

CHAN!

"Babe! Come on! You're going to miss it!" You looked to see your boyfriend with his headphones on, typing away at the computer. He didn't hear you, and though you know better than to disturb his work, this is an emergency. You run over to him, 10 seconds on the clock. You can hear the people from the television counting down. You and Chan didn't have the opportunity to travel for the New Year, but you don't mind missing out on New York. You're with Chris. That's what matters. Seven seconds. You rip the headphones off, not surprised to hear him let out a sound of surprise and turn to you. "What!" You tuck the headphones into your chest and grin, jumping excitedly on your feet. Chan stands and looks confused, but he soon hears the chanting on the TV. Five! Four!... "No way! I thought it was-" "Just kiss me!" One! It's rushed. The clank of teeth makes you wince, but you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him deeper. He smiles against your eager lips, wrapping his arms around your torso and lifting you off the ground. When you pull away, the sounds of firecrackers sound on the TV and you're sure can hear you neighbors shouting with joy. "Happy New Year, baby." "You almost missed it." "N-I didn't though!"

MINHO!

"Should I wake up the cats?" Minho stares at his sleeping, feline brothers. "I don't want them to miss it." You wrap your arms from behind, peeking from the side of his shoulder. "I dunno. They look kinda cute like that." Your lover hums in agreement, turning around so you're hugging him properly instead. "I think you're right." The two of you giggle before you hear clatter in the living room. "Kids! You're gonna miss it!" You can hear his mom. "We got only seconds left!" Seconds!? You and Minho share a look before rushing to the living room. His parents are already standing and holding each other with their gaze on the TV. They've got matching sweaters on and noise makers in their hands. You have a quick vision of how you and Minho will be when you're older. "Mom! I thought you said we had five minutes!" "No! Five seconds!" It's all so quick. The playful arguing from Minho and his mom to his dad trying to get his wife's attention. You can't even intervene before the clock strikes midnight and the television erupts in cheers. Happy New Years! It's like a switch in Minho. His banter stops and suddenly, you're the only person in the room. "Happy New Years." His voice is so quiet, like a secret only between the two of you. You whisper back and kiss him, but only quickly. It's still enough to feel the softness of his lips and to feel his smile. His parents laugh with joy, making you two pull away. "So when are you gonna get down on one knee, Jagiya?!"

CHANGBIN!

He's wearing those 2025 glasses. His big eyes peer right into yours, curls sticking to his forehead in a way that makes him a million times are sexy. You want to be mad, but you can't even pretend, "You ruined it!" Changbin's beautiful eyes widen. "You- I- How did you expect me to last that long!?" You have to keep from laughing. All of it was your idea anyway. You thought it would be funny to enter the New Year with Changbin shooting cum, but he couldn't last enough. Now you two are playfully arguing in the backyard with seconds left in 2024. "And-and it's cold! And we're outside!" "In the backyard!" You open your arms to display the scenery. "No one was gonna see me edge you!" Changbin shushes you. "S-stop being so loud!" You want to shout even louder just to see him panic, but you hear the booms of firecrackers. You're lucky that Changbin's place isn't too far from the Han River. You two watch as the stream of smoke bolts in the sky, and in just two seconds of delay, it explodes into colors with a loud boom! "Oh my god!" Changbin points in the sky. "Look! Look! Look!" You are looking, but at something so much brighter than any firecracker. More go off. They light up the dark sky beautifully, but the way the colors dance on Changbin's face is incomparable. You smile, "Happy New Years, Binnie." Changbin turns to you, already smiling and opening his strong arms. "Mhm. Another year with my love. Come here." And you do, and when you kiss, you think it's sweet. It's softer than usual, wetter almost. But you like the warmth you two create in the chilly night. Changbin pulls away, eyes wide. "Oh. I forgot I came in your mouth." Oh, that's why it feels like that. "You don't wanna kiss me?" "I never said that."

HYUNJIN!

There's so many people. Too many people. Times Square was always packed when you watched it on TV, but being here, you didn't really understand how bad it gets. Hyunjin's holding onto you tight. People are shoving, trying to get closer to the Ball that will drop in seconds. People are shouting, screaming, crying, and you're trying to wrap your arms around Hyunjin's neck. "This sucks." Hyunjin mumbles so they don't hear him, but you don't think they could even if he shouted it. You want him to have a good time despite you feeling the same, so you manage to smile up at him. "We're in New York, babe. Don't act too surprised." He grins at you, then looks up to the Ball. "Look." You turn and see the giant clock ticking down. 3...2...1 HAPPY NEW YEAR And despite the massive crowd and ear-bleeding screams, you're right you want to be. Hyunjin grips your chin, forcing you to look at his beautiful face. You've always though your lover was ethereal. His nose curved cutely at the tip and his jaw was so strong, but the juxtaposition made it work perfectly. And his lips sit lovely on his face, shiny from the way he was swiping his tongue over him. Neither of you speak a word, but the deep look into each other eye's says it all. He leans down gently, placing his lips on yours like there aren't a million other couples doing the same. And he's so warm. So endearing on your mouth that tears prick your eyes. You glide against his lips, easily slipping your tongue out so he can suck it into his mouth. He groans at your taste, hands digging deeper into your waist possessively. You lean back more, letting his own tongue invade your mouth and swipe gently against yours. Your hands travel to his buzzed hair, feeling the smoothness against your fingertips. Yeah. There's nowhere else you'd rather be.

HAN!

"Where's my baby! Where's my baby?!" He's screaming for you. Everyone at the party looks in his direction, confused and slightly worried. You rush to Han's side. You told him you were going to get a drink, but you underestimated how close midnight was and how drunk your lover is. "Oh my- I'm so sorry." You sheepishly look at the people trying to make room for you. "He's drunk and- Han! I'm right here!" His eyes are crossed and unfocused, but once he sees you, it's like he sobers for a second. Only a second. "Clock. 3-2-1." He points to a wall that does not have a clock. "Happy New Year?" You're stuck between laughing and crying. Chan told you he would keep an eye on Han while you refilled your cup, but once the girls starting rolling in, he had other plans in mind. "Yes, Han. Like, 10 more seconds." You're grabbing onto him for safety reasons. Your arm is looped with his, grabbing onto his jacket to act a leash in case he decides to stray away. Yet, it seems like all of that is unnecessary since he's putting all his weight on you. "Love you sooo much. You're my baby, you know that? Like forever." You're opening your mouth to tell him, yes you know, and that he should probably get some fresh air, but the party erupts in cheers and screams. No fucking way. Han's eyes widen. He's thinking the same thing. "We-we missed it!" You see his eyes get wet. "I-I can't kiss you until next year." Why did you have to fall for an idiot? "Yes you can. It's been like, two seconds." He's still pouting. "But...But I wanted-" You reach on your tippytoes and pull him down, cutting his words off with a kiss. Han muffles against you for a moment. As if it takes time for his brain to register that you're kissing. When it does, he swoons. His arms wrap around your neck and he leans further down, uncaring how his tongue messily licks onto your lips. The booze settles on your tastebuds immediately. You're not one for beer breath, but Han's taste and your own buzz makes it pleasant. He looses his balance quickly with his eyes closed. You have to plant your feet steady on the ground to keep the two of you up. You push him away by the shoulders and when you think you'll see confusion on his face, you see utter bliss instead. "Oh hell no." You know better than to fall for his sultry eyes and biting lip. "We're going home."

FELIX!

He's ready. Felix has been sat on the couch, staring at the TV for half an hour. He even set alarms to make sure neither of you miss when the clock strikes midnight. You're in the kitchen, cutting yourself a piece of his infamous brownie when another alarm rings. You try not to groan. "Felix, I really don't think you need-" "It's the last one! One minute, baby! Oh shit, I have to record this." You emerge from the kitchen to see him fumbling with the phone, shutting off the alarm and opening his camera app. He points the lens at you, dark hair peeking from above. "Any last words before the New Year?" You slow your steps, pursing your lips in thought. "Mmm... Fuck." Felix giggles. He puts the down a few inches to look at you directly. "I can't post that on TikTok." You laugh, finally making your way to the couch and setting the goodies on the center table. Felix follows right behind you, still clacking on his phone until you hear it shut off. Lithe arms wrap around your waist, turning you until you're faced to Felix. His dark hair falls over his eyes innocently with an adorable smile on his face. He looks unbelievably content celebrating New Years in your tiny apartment. Guilt twist in your heart. You want to apologize, but dozens of alarms go off before you can open your mouth. Felix's smile widens. "Happy New Year!" You laugh, both annoyed and amused at the alarms that play horribly in-sync. Felix chuckles only for a moment before tilting his head down, catching you off guard. His lips are gentle. You don't think you've felt him kiss you this softly in months, but you welcome it all. His lips barely contact yours and you eagerly push forward. He smiles against you, molding his mouth onto yours how you want. You pull away only to kiss at a different angle, holding his bottom lip longer than you're supposed to before letting it go and doing it again. Felix groans a little. His small hands bunch your shirt, pulling you closer. He looks devastated when you pull away. You shake your head, lips wet and tingling. "I can't stand these alarms. I think I'm going crazy."

SEUNGMIN!

It's really hard to keep your hands to yourself, and not in a sexual sense. He just looks so good. His hair is done up, pushed back to show his forehead with a white, puffy jacket over him. You can see every breath he exhales, every beautiful strand of hair under the moonlight, and how Seungmin wrinkles his nose every time he hears the loud chatter of people. "Sorry." He rubs his hand over yours, intertwining your fingers and finally letting you get a feel of his skin in this cold night. "This was the only spot I could find." Seungmin spent weeks looking for a secluded spot on the Han River. There's some passbyers, some children running with kites flying high in the sky, and the smell of baked goods not too far. The two of you sit on a blanket, a basket of fruits and drinks beside you. You lean on his shoulder, using your other hands to place it on his knee. "It's perfect. Thank you, baby." He turns to look at you, tilting his head and smiling like you're a million stars. You glance to his lips, already leaning forward and closing your eyes. You think you're going to feel his mouth, but you feel the palm of his hand instead. "Not yet." Not yet?? "But...but I want to kiss you now." Seungmin grins wider, teeth shinning and cutely scrunching his nose. "The new year is almost here. Just wait." You throw your head back dramatically, tugging on his fingers impatiently. "Noooo. Now." 10! You can hear the people nearby counting down in unison. 9! 8! 7! You straighten back up, looking wide-eyed at your boyfriend who's been looking at you the entire time. Seungmin leans in only to touch your nose with his. He's so infuriating. You try to sneak a peck in. Your pursed lips are met with air from Seungmin's quick reaction. He laughs and you don't understand how he can. The last few seconds feel tortuous. A whine is builds in your throat, but the screams and cheers make you stop. HAPPY NEW YEAR! You tackle Seungmin onto the grass. He goes down with a yelp and grabs your hips, bringing you with him. He can't even look confused before your lips are on him, kissing his lips repeatedly so the gentle smacks echo quietly between you two. And the sound is drowned out by the fireworks. You're sure they look pretty, bright and colorful dancing in the night sky, but Seungmin's lips are better than any gunpowder. He laughs in your mouth, mumbling about how he wants to see the firecrackers and that the grass is wet, but he holds onto you tighter and kisses you deeper. His head tilts, his mouth opens and you get a taste of how eager he had being wanting to kiss you too. Seungmin was just better at controlling himself. He has to be the one to pull away, lips plump and wet with spit. His face is flushed and you can see how hard he's breathing. "I love you. So much." Your hands plant on the grass besides him, and sure enough, it is wet. The muddy texture is hardly for concern when you lean down again, pecking his lips, nose and eyes. "I love you too. Happy New Years." "Happy New Years. Um..." His eyes look panicked when you look at his face. "I think there's a worm in my ear."

JEONGIN!

The drinks were supposed to loosen everyone up for the night. Han gets anxious in big crowds, Chan constantly feels the need to keep an eye on everyone, Felix just enjoys fruity drinks, and the rest are pretty much down to drink at any given time. But Jeongin? Jeongin gets hot. The clothes on his skin feels too tight and the dress on yours definitely is. He was already on you when you walked into Hyunjin's apartment, but the moment the jungle juice was half-way gone, he was asking to finger you in the corner of the room. Which brings you to now. The feel of his soft hair between your legs with his even softer tongue on your folds. The thudding of music and hollers vibrate through the wall, all the way to the second floor where Jeongin has you. You're not quiet, you never can be when his expert tongue runs over you. But with the loudness from the first-floor, you don't find any reason to lower your voice. You thought he wanted a quickie. A fast tug on the side of your underwear and the unbuckling of his belt, but Jeongin lead you to the bedroom rather than the bathroom and lifted your dress high. The material is bunched at your mid, breasts free and legs open. His long fingers peak at your nipples, twisting and pulling until your moans turn into squeals. And his tongue keeps digging into you. Thrusting itself in and out before swiping your arousal over your clit. Jeongin can feel your hips thrust every time he does it, so he stays sucking on your sensitive bud until you wrap your thighs around his neck. He groans, loving how your smell swallows him whole. Jeongin bruies his face deeper until his nose bumps your clit, swiping his tongue lower to collect your juices. You know you're cutting off his air circulation, but neither of you seem to care. Jeongin seemed perfectly happy with the possibility of his death being between your legs, and you seem okay burying him there. A harsh pinch to your nipple makes you cry. You lift your head and widen your legs just a bit, hearing him deeply inhale before sticking his tongue out again. " 'm so sensitive, Jeong. You're gonna make me cum again." Jeongin opens his eyes. You love the wild look in them. How they look stuck between desire and chaos. You've always loved the slenderness of them. Even now, wide, blown-out, and almost terrifying, it makes you drip onto the sheets. On a bed that isn't even yours. He moans, nodding and unable to say anything. He never speaks when he eats you out. Your taste is all too consuming. They're getting louder below, shouting and screaming so violently that you can barely make out what they're saying. Jeongin is the one the make it out first. He pops off your pussy quickly, a loud smack resonating in the room. You moan in loss, closing your legs in overstimulating and panting. The room quickly quiets from your lack of whining, but at least you can hear your friends below. Happy New Year! No way. No fucking way. How could you forget the whole reason you two went to Hyunjin's place? Jeongin runs a hand through his hair, face shinning in your wetness. "He's gonna be pissed." Hyunjin? "B-because we're on his bed? I'll wash the sheets and-" "No! Hyunjin asked me to be his New Years kiss and I said yes and- fuck! Why did I say that?!" You can't even laugh. Pleasure is still drumming in your veins and your half naked. "Wha-" "JEONGIN?? AYEN-AH?? JAGIYA?!" Now you laugh, but it's mixed with panic. Jeongin is lifting you off the bed and trying to make you look decent, but the drunken limbs are hardly any help. "Well, guess you're gonna have to tell Hyunjin your New Years kiss was to my pussy instead."

[wardensantoineandevka]

Yeah, I think at the end of it. I get, understand, and agree that the narrative moment we're at is "Bells Hells, feeling they don't have the resources to fight Ludinus a second time today and still uncertain about the central question of what is to be done about the gods in Exandria, move toward Predathos in an attempt to control a situation they feel is inevitable. Imogen feels she has to make the choice to accept it into herself because Predathos is still moving toward her and the Ruidusborn, tragically boxing her into this because she feels she has no other meaningful choices." Great, amazing, I totally understand this, and it is a natural beat and one that coheres as a culmination of the campaign. It's actually a pretty great beat in summary.

The frustrating thing ultimately feels to be the execution, because it constantly feels like the story is meandering from beat to beat after an incredibly long series of meanderings over the course of the campaign. It's ultimately fine the characters feel uncertain, but the storytelling itself feels uncertain as well about what it is doing and that is less fine. Every decision is made with a sort of timid "I suppose that's the thing to do, I don't really know" at the table level without a very clear sense of what they're moving toward narratively, and that's really more of the problem. It's undercutting what is otherwise a really great direction.

Decisions don't feel like they have teeth because the storytelling is so hesitant about whether it's the right direction to take, so the needed feeling of stakes, inevitability, tragedy, suffocating circumstance don't exist in the way they should to give what's happening the needed sense of clarity. It feels like we're all moving through a bog in a not fun way because the story itself isn't sure what it's moving toward even in a sense of vibes or structurally. moving confidently and toward a tragedy in a sense of trapping the characters and cornering them would've done wonders, but instead it kinda has the feeling of trying to unroll a carpet dramatically and it just kinda slowly stops. Like, it's a slow drift down a lazy river instead of feeling dragged out with the tide.

It is a really great beat to have Imogen accepting Predathos because she feels she doesn't have any other choice in the series of pressures occurring right now. But, the pressure doesn't really feel like it exists because it all feels disconnected from the moment or too gently / abstractly applied or too slow to be framed, and the inevitability aspect doesn't feel like it's quite standing because narrative inevitability comes from momentum and strong storytelling intent and purpose, and it's never felt like this campaign has had that. The storytelling is hesitant and uncertain, so the tragedy doesn't quite come through on experience of the moment, even when it does come through in summary.

And that's more the frustrating thing. It's a good beat executed a little too uncertainly. The choice itself for the character is a good one, but it — like much of the campaign — feels like it lacks a storyteller trust in the narrative or trust in the choice itself to make it really feel satisfying as an execution. I genuinely wonder if that's ultimately what I'm bouncing off of, the fact that it doesn't feel like the table is trusting in the narrative or trusting the choices they're making for the story or trusting in themselves and each other to carry through the story they’re telling, so the intentionality and purpose feel off and it's stripping a great beat of its power by making it feel hesitant at a narrative mechanics level.

[catbolt]

— RESONANCE

[SOUNDTRACK] Spell #6 - Part Time || ▶︎

You resonate for the first time with Sylus-- in bed.

[TAGS] sylus x mc, smut (wholesome lovey dovey sex while resonating), vanilla, vulnerable!Sylus, mc taking the lead, cockwarming

[A/N] ngl despite all the spicy banner frenzy im still kinda reeling over the sylus myth i just finished getting thru so this is me coping

[WC] 3k

songfic 4/?

Thick carpets of rain cascade down outside, rhythmically pattering on the window as she snuggles into Sylus’ shoulder a little closer under the blankets. He chuckles, the low vibrations of his laugh reverberating through her. “What, are you getting scared on me now?” “No,” she protests, eyes flicking from the gory scenes playing out on the TV at the foot of the bed up to Sylus’ warm gaze as he looks down at her. 

“Funny, because I could have sworn you just shivered against me.” He playfully squeezes his thigh where her hand rests. 

“Did not,” She insists, moving to pinch his arm in retaliation. He lets out a grunt of surprise. “Plus, I was the one who suggested it. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I was scared.”

“Fine, touche,” Sylus relents with a chuckle. “But you totally shivered.” “Maybe I’m cold,” she mutters.

“Cold?” He pulls up the blankets higher over both of them. “Want me to get another blanket?” “It’s fine. I can think of another way you can warm me up.” She smirks in his direction, but finds he’s completely missed the innuendo, instead just innocently pulling her closer to him, wrapping his big arms around her as they snuggle closer. His fingers trace soothing lines over her back. “I’m warm. If you get closer to me, it should rub off on you,” he murmurs softly. 

She chuckles to herself at this odd moment of innocence from someone who’s usually so sharp and sardonic, wrapping her arm around him in turn. In this position, she’s barely even able to see the TV, only the flashing lights reflected on the ceiling and Sylus’ face. She watches him for a while as his eyes remain trained on the screen.

“That part was so gross,” he mutters, gesturing to the screen. “Why did they have to make it like–” as he meets her eyes, he realizes they’ve been on him the entire time as she rests nestled in his arms. He lets out a soft huff. “You aren’t even paying attention. I can’t be more interesting than the movie. They just killed off like five of the characters at once.” “Oh, I think you’re a lot more interesting,” she responds with a gentle laugh. 

“Am I?” He says, eyes flickering back to the movie for a moment once more before she has his full attention as he leans over her, his arms fully encircling her under the soft blankets. One of his hands rises to stroke her cheek gently as his voice falls to nothing more than a whisper. “Do you want me to pause the movie?” 

He’s barely audible over the sound of the storm outside, cracks of thunder starting to mingle with the rain that has become torrential and relentless in its assault against the window.

“We don’t have to pause it. It seems like you were enjoying it.” As she looks at him she’s caught in his arresting crimson gaze. The feeling is like being stuck in molasses, her entire body entirely surrounded, submerged completely in the aching warmth of it. 

“How about I just lower the volume?” he murmurs, his hand momentarily slipping out from under the covers to find the remote. “You have my full attention, sweetheart.” A small smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth as she takes in how off-kilter she suddenly looks, as if he’s seeing her for the first time again. “You look like a deer in headlights,” he murmurs, leaning down until his nose is brushing hers. “Why do you do that sometimes? When I look at you…”

She feels his soft breath against her lips and suddenly everything else– the movie, the rain– is white noise. “I don’t know,” she says softly. “I just feel overwhelmed a little when you look at me so intently.”

“Overwhelmed?” He pulls back just a hair. “In a bad way?”

“No,” she reassures him firmly, her hand snaking behind him and tangling in his hair, gently pulling him closer so their noses are once again touching. “Not in a bad way. I like how you look at me. Like I’m something precious.”

His lips curve into a gentle smile against hers as they kiss, his hands sliding around her, pulling her closer as the movie continues to play quietly in the background. The kiss is slow and languid, their limbs tangling under the covers. 

With a gentle yet firm touch, he lays her back against the pillows, his body hovering just barely over hers as he they kiss. “You are precious,” he mutters between kisses, his voice thick. 

He breaks the kiss to trails his lips across her jawline and down her neck, his hands slowly, tenderly exploring her pajama-clad form. In her mind the sounds of the movie have completely drowned into nothingness– the only thing she can hear is their shared breathing and the rustle of the sheets at Sylus’ gentle movements. It’s so damn romantic it almost takes her breath away, her body arching into each of his careful touches. 

“You know I mean that, right?” He looks down at her, his lips parted and cheeks softly flushed as his hands dip under the hem of her shirt to rest lightly against her ribcage, the gentle warmth of his palms soothing as he rubs his fingers across her torso. She nods. Though she generally prides herself on being a logical and careful person, she could never find it in her to doubt Sylus, not for even a moment. He doesn’t need to tell her how he feels. Every touch of his hand on her might as well be an utterance of reverence, a prayer, the tenderness and yearning somehow palpable each time his fingertips make contact.

Her hand steals one of his from where it massages her sides, and she intertwines her fingers with his, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm. “I know it.”

He captures her lips in another kiss, unbearably slow and kind, as his free hand still beneath her shirt caresses each inch of her stomach and ribs. Both of them are too preoccupied to notice as a soft golden light begins to leak from between their locked palms, pulsing softly as her Evol reacts with his for the first time.

What makes Sylus’ eyes finally flutter open is the sudden warmth he feels in the palm of his hand. He gazes to the side at their clasped hands by her head, eyes widening. “Baby,” he says, voice hoarse with feeling. “You’re… resonating with me.”

Her eyes are drawn to the shining light as well. She almost feels like there’s a pearl in her palm, something round where the light emanates, that seems to pulse like it’s living. “Oh, wow,” she says breathlessly, watching as the light slowly strengthens and steadies. 

“But I don’t know what it is,” she murmurs. “It’s different depending on what Evol I’m resonating with, and the needs of the specific situation… and I’ve never resonated in this kind of situation before, obviously…” 

He laughs softly at that, gently rotating their interlaced hands so he can peer between them. “What happens now?” “I don’t know. I mean, your Evol is energy manipulation, so this must be some form of an amplification of that.” She gazes up at him, heart racing in her chest. 

“I want to keep kissing you,” he murmurs, then squeezes her hand. 

He doesn’t need to say it twice. She leans upward, kissing him deeply, her mouth opening greedily in invitation for his tongue as their hands remain interlinked. The glow pulses like a heartbeat, sending pleasant warmth through them both. It’s a soft, nonviolent energy, manifesting not with the intent to attack or defend, but simply to be. To mingle and grow in their togetherness.

She finally comes up for air, her breaths deepening. “Hold on,” she murmurs, and gently she disentangles her fingers from his, their palms separating. The glow dissipates between them, making Sylus’ eyes flicker with a tinge of sadness, but when his hand returns to her body and slides down her side, a faint soft glow accompanies the movement. He blinks. “It’s still here,” he mumbles. 

She reaches out, her hands now seeking his body. She lays her palms flat on his chest and the gentle glow blooms again, barely visible through the fabric of his shirt, though the gentle heat that grows and grows slowly as she leaves them there is undeniable. He gasps at the contact, gazing down at himself. “I’m gonna take it off,” he says, hands coming over his head to roughly pull off his shirt. He grips her wrists, bringing her hands up to rest on his now-bare chest again, the light now uninhibited and visible to both of them.

“It’s beautiful,” he says. “You’re doing this… it’s incredible.”

“I’m only able to do it because of you,” she adds on quietly “It’s your Evol that I’m using to create… whatever this is.” 

Gradually they shed their clothes, movie long forgotten. He’s desperate to touch her, to see the gentle light dance across her skin, to revel in the magic she’s creating. His heart pounds with adrenaline and desire as she pulls her shirt off to reveal her body, his hands that come up to cup her breasts leaving searing coins of light across her skin where they touch. Her own hands seek and massage him, growing more and more insistent as her arousal builds. Something about the fact that everywhere she touches is marked with the evidence of their resonance sends something constricting around her heart, making it hard for her to swallow like her throat has closed. 

As she tugs down his sweats and boxers, the glow deepens, turning more orange and red as it flickers like candle light in each spot she puts her fingers. “Your Evol…” she murmurs with wonder. “It’s starting to resemble your Evol more.”

“Is that…bad?” He looks down at the glowing marks on his hips where she’s just held him. For a moment, a flare of panic rises in his chest. His Evol… violent and relentless, a force for killing. He wants nothing more than for it to never touch her, for her to never see it, for her to never know the pain he is capable of causing. Not his beautiful girl. He withdraws his hands from her body as fear overcomes him. “Does it hurt?” “No,” she reassures him, catching his hands before he can fully pull away. “Baby, don’t worry. I’ll tell you if it hurts, okay?” She pulls him closer, spreading her legs and hooking them behind his. 

The heat of her core is a stark contrast to the coolness of the sheets, and the light between them flares up at the contact, a warm glow enveloping them both. “It’s… it’s reacting to this?” “I guess so,” she laughs softly, still mesmerized at the lights that glow in the darkness on his skin like little fireflies where she’s touched. Slowly she grinds her hips against his, needing more contact. Her slick heat coats his length as she slowly rocks her hips up and down against it. His hands tentatively find her waist again, still scared of causing her pain, but when her face shows no sign of anything other than pleasure he grips a little firmer, helping her move up and down. She groans softly as the head pushes through her wet folds again and again, grazing her clit with each soft movement.

His breath comes in ragged gasps now, the light between them intense enough that they're practically glowing in the darkness. He guides himself between her legs with trembling hands. “Should I– do you…” He trails off, his usual silver-tongued eloquence deserting him.

“I want to,” she nods, her legs parting further. “And you’ll tell me if it starts hurting or feeling uncomfortable in any way?” His thumb draws soothing circles against her hip, leaving a glowing red mark, as the other gently hoists one of her legs over his shoulder.

“I’ll tell you,” she murmurs, eyes heady with desire. “But I have a feeling nothing’s going to hurt us.” She gently squeezes his thigh where she can reach, attempting to soothe his worries a little. 

He pushes into her slowly, the light between them pulsing with each inch. The resonance seems to hum with approval, light wrapping around them both like tendrils, similar to how Sylus’ Evol alone reaches and grabs like a red flurry. But this light is softer, tender, encircling them, as if binding them together. She gasps out in pleasure, the sensation and warmth and fullness almost too much to bear as he fills her completely.

He looks down at where they’re joined, seeing the faint light pulsing between them like a heartbeat. Sheathed completely in her, every sensation is somehow amplified by their resonance,  to the point where he swears he can feel her heartbeat through where they connect, his own heart falling easily in time.

“Move baby,” she pleads, her body taut with pleasure. “Please…”

Nodding, he begins to move his hips slowly, as if in fear of disturbing this delicate balance they’ve found. But the resonance seems to encourage him. He picks up his speed gradually, attuned deeply to every movement of her body and expression on her face, searching for signs of discomfort.

 “Oh god,” she moans softly, turning her head into the pillow. It always feels good like this with him, but this time is uniquely special. As she gazes up at him she watches as golden threads of light wrap across his chest and waist, following each curve of his body gently as he makes love to her. “You’re beautiful, Sy…”

His hips stutter at her hushed endearment, drawing a strangled gasp from him as he tries to reestablish his rhythm. Her slick walls constrict around him as he buries his head in her neck, groaning softly as he pumps in and out of her. The golden threads seem to tug them closer with each passing moment. He whispers softly into her ear, his lips finding her neck. “Does it feel good?” 

He’s embarrassed that he needs this reassurance right now, but his body is trembling with fear, scared that somehow his Evol will rear its head and make this much less pleasant. His touches on her sides are delicate, soft, making sure each mark that the resonance leaves on her skin is just a barely-there pinprick of light. 

“It feels amazing,” she says softly, gently running her hands down his back. “Don’t hold back. It’s okay.” 

He bites back his fear, peppering soft wet kisses against her neck and feeling the heat radiate back to him in the red glowing marks that blossom in the wake of his lips. He continues rocking into her, his pace slowly increasing, their panting breaths mingling together as they both near their respective orgasms. The resonance’s intensity grows warmer and deeper, penetrating both of them deep into their chests with the intensity of a knife but the softness of a warm blanket, the feeling enormous and extraordinary between them. “Do you feel that?” He pants between his thrusts, his hands gripping her sides softly. 

“I feel it,” she whispers between ragged moans. “It’s– It’s so–”

The words elude both of them now, and all she can do is cry out his name as her body hits her peak. He feels her inner walls spasming around him, triggering his own release as he comes crashing down over the edge right behind her, letting out a strangled cry as he fills her, ropes of his release coating her insides. Light ricochets out between where their bodies are pressed atop each other, the burst momentarily all either of them can see before it fades, disintegrating away into pinpricks of light like small stars that flicker and float in the still air. 

He wraps his arms around her possessively, holding her close as he tries to catch his breath. “That was… not normal,” he murmurs, a hint of wonder in his voice. The residual resonance tingles between them, crackling across their skin like tiny sparks.

“Far from it.” She laughs. The faint red and golden lights throughout the room twinkle softly before disappearing.

He presses a faint kiss to her forehead as he watches the lights around them fade.The end credits of the movie that was playing have long since rolled, the only light now being the sliver of moonlight cutting through the blinds behind them and the faint warm heat of the resonance that has imbued both of their skins with something akin to a bioluminescence, a soft, barely-there glow. He holds her close, as if afraid she’ll disappear. “That was special,” he says quietly, his voice raw as he buries his head in her hair, breathing in slowly, trying to gather himself. “I’ve never… experienced anything like that before.” 

“Me either,” she responds, leaning into his touch, moving so that she’s completely enveloped in him, the feeling of him still inside her only adding to the tenderness of it, the warmth as they both glow together. 

“It means something right? That you were able to resonate with me like that?” “It did,” she says, nodding. She takes one of his hands into hers. “It means we have a connection. And that I trust you.” She squeezes his hand. “That I’m yours.” “...Mine?” His voice is soft, any posturing or false confidence completely gone. “Yours. Fully.” She says firmly. “Though… I don’t think I needed the resonance to happen to know that.”

His grip tightens around her before he catches himself, not wanting to squeeze her too hard. He sighs, resting his chin on top of her head, gently stroking patterns across her back as the rain continues to pour down outside. The glow between them eventually fades into darkness, but the warmth takes its time, bathing them in it for many moments longer. By the time the after-effects of the resonance are completely gone, the both of them are asleep, curled still in each other’s arms. 

[startheskelaton]

So what’s the whole deal with Nightflyer and the Predaking?

It an interesting idea- but it’s got me confused

How would Nightflyer possibly have been a Predicon?

Is it by chance or genetics?

So I need to make a proper diagram but this is how basically.

In the lore of my AU, all transformers are born from the ground of Cybertron aka Primus. This also means that unborn sparks are just kinda floating around in the core of Cybertron. These sparks will eventually push their way through the ground, smelting a body around themselves as they become a protoform, then pop out of the ground like carrots.

So a long ass time ago, all transformers were born on Cybertron, didn’t matter what they were, beast modes, vehicles, whatever. Each one was taken in by a different Prime and grew into a transformer reflecting that prime. However when there were too many bots, some primes headed off world to create colony planets, such planets having Energon (aka part of Primus) and allowing for new transformers to be born.

The bot’s on the colony planets would mostly take on a form similar to the Prime that started it, explaining why Some have mostly female bots and one has all beast modes.

So before the colonies happened, Predicons were some of the strongest guys around, no body messed with them. Mostly because they were the first bots to be able to fly. They all were fallowers of Oynx Prime, beast prime if you don’t remember. And his presence at his assigned sparkling well made it so those sparklings were born beasts.

The first sparkling that raised from the ground under Onyx’s influence would grow up to be Predaking, one of the most notorious creatures of early Cybertron. And Onyx loved him with all his spark, however tragedy would strike. Fights would beak out between the Prime’s fallowers, mostly over resources and land, and with all the casualties of the fighting, Predaking would be one of them.

Oynx prime decided to bury his first son in the same place of his birth, the beast sparkling well. It was in hope that the predicons would be remembered even as they left their first home.

Now we get to Nightflyer. Well Sparks have a distinct destiny of what they will be, a flyer, a ground vehicle, a beast, it’s the one thing that Primus choses for them, everything else is for them to decide. Nightflyer’s Spark was meant to be a flying beast like the other Predicons at the time, however before he could start his smelting, Oynx prime and the other beasts left. He would have been born into a world without his own kind. So Primus kept his Spark there…. For a VARY long time.

However after the Great War, Prima allowed for Sparklings to grow from the planet once more, now that they wouldn’t be in such danger. The Sparkling well that used to create Predicons had changed to create seakers, bots that dominated the skies. Knowing that change would come, Primus decided that something from long ago, should have the chance to see the world. And let Nightflyer spark free to form a protoform around itself, making Nightflyer one of the first Transformers in decades to be born again from Cybertron.

He was strong, powerful, intelligent and beautiful, all things he inherited from his Predicon origins… however he was a Jet. And he knew deep down that something wasn’t right, the feeling only became more real when he started to see the ghost of Predaking, the only other bot still alive that was a beast born on Cybertron.

[anachronismstellar]

Hear me out;

For your SQH with tattoos post, what if he implemented tattoo spells or smthn into PIDW bcs he was a fan of FMA or smthn. It is a vry Airplane thing to do, trust.

Anon I'm listening loud and clear and I need this ASAP because I bet he did exactly that, he slapped some poor wanna be villain with talismans tattoos or some shit to make the villain look edgy and I bet the villain got his tattoo from a demon clan in the south or something, the point- THE POINT IS.

(oh God this is becoming a filet God save me-)

Mu Qingfang is the only one who knows about the tattoos and he doesn't approve not because he doesn't like the vibe (he kinda thinks is hot as fuck) he doesn't approve because "Heavens knows what they put in the ink and which needle they used, Shixiong!"

But with the amount of layers a peak lord has to wear, no one finds our for a long loooooong time.

Hell, Mobei that has walked into Shang Qinghua doing the weirdest shit didn't know about the damn tattoos.

Until. UNTIL.

Wife plot 397.

What is wife plot 397? No idea, Airplane doesn't know either, but the think is that it ends up with him soaked to the bone and the water has poison because of course it does so he has to strip all his robes and he has to do it fast or he can say bye bye to his skin and bones which makes him naked in front of Mobei with only Cucumber's fan (that is going to be burned later urgh Airplane you will pay for this!) saving the last dignity that he might have-

Uh. It should be more yelling. Why is everyone so quiet?

"What?"

"What?! What happened to your arms?!" Because of course Cucumber is the one who snaps out faster, but without his fan to cover his face his blush is there to anyone to see. "Are those tattoos?! Airplane what did you do- what are they for?!"

Binghe is drinking vinegar and doesn't know if he will have to kill his shishu because he had to dirty Shizun's eyes with by being shamelessly naked like that or if he should stare at Shizun's face and see if he likes the tattoos- should he get tattoos? WHAT IF HE GOT SHIZUN'S NAME IT WOULD BE SO ROMANTIC-

Meanwhile Mobei. Oh poor Mobei.

Mobei-Jun's brain has left the building, struggling between wanting to hide Qinghua's body from everyone's eyes but also wanting to take him and pin him down and lick all the drawings and bite them until Qinghua begged for mercy or-

"Oh, yea, I forgot about these uh. They are to help me with strength? Also they help to circulation of qi, and another things" and he won't anything else because if Cucumber finds out he got a FMA Scar wanna be tattoo he will be dead, he will be murdered by Cucumber-bro fan somehow.

..... and that's what I have for now because is almost 4 am DJSBAKDBSKDJSK

But feel free to take the idea and run with it!! I just want more BAMF!SQH fics in the world ;; he deserves it poor little meow meow

Thank you for the ask anon <3

[absolute-decay]

Do you think in the most twisted, misguided, disgusting, and almost idiotic way, Chisaki saw his young self in Eri, and thought he would be to her what the boss was to him. Like. This lost young orphaned child with nothing but the clothes on their back taken in by a Yakuza. That's literally their only similarities but do you think Chisaki decided that was enough? That he should be the one to "save" her?

I know it sounds ridiculous but just stick with me here.

This single image from chapter 136 screams so fucking much about Kai's brain and his relationship with Eri to me. Because ask yourself. "Why doesn't Kai just put Eri into a coma like he did The Boss?" Because that would solve so many of his problems. No chance of Eri escaping. No chance of any Heroes finding out about her. There'd be minimal resources spent on her since all he needs is to keep her alive regardless of physical condition. It literally solves everything, it almost feels like a plot hole. But then you remember the fact that Eri was entrusted to Kai by The Boss, and then you take another look at the image above, and it kinda clicks, doesn't it?

He doesn't do that because he genuinely, truly wants to take care of Eri. He might even really see himself as her father figure. And I think that makes so much sense, especially with his other relationships. Case in point, Shin Nemoto.

We saw the results of Shin using his Quirk on Kai, and he says straight up, "I like you, I trust you, your presence makes me feel at ease." And he didn't even seem shocked or upset after saying it, so it wasn't a truth he was unaware of or didn't want Shin to know. That's simply how he felt, cut and dry. But, with that being the truth, he was more than willing to use him as an expendable asset, have him be a fall guy after the raid with the other Bullets, and fuse with him, which he seems to believe will fucking kill him. That's not Kai using a pawn: That's just how Kai is with someone he cares about.

So, it wouldn't be far fetched to say, the same applies to Eri, and that really does recontextualize every one of their scenes, huh?

"You're the centerpiece of my plan."

"To this girl, you're no hero."

"You're cursed, every action you take kills someone."

"Someone else is going to die because of you!"

"She doesn't want you."

None of this is manipulation or scare tactics or anything like that. This is just what Kai thinks of humans. That he can hurt and pull and abuse them in the worst ways possible, and do it over and over again, and not understand when they want to run away. And I feel like him being raised in one of Garaki's "orphanages" just rubs salt into this wound.

Because, he takes care of Eri, doesn't he? He gets her toys and a pretty room and a soft bed, and he's nice and calm with her, doesn't even use his quirk to kill her and bring her back to life painfully as punishment! He doesn't seem to be physical with her at all, outside of the blood extractions. She has everything a girl could ask for, and she spurns him? Runs from him? Well, no matter. That's just how children are. Ignorant, illogical, they just don't make sense.

...It's such an incredibly fucked up way of thinking. And I think it's ingrained so deeply in Kai's mind because it's what he thinks he never had.

I think the way he treats Eri is how he thinks loving parents would have treated him. Pretty toys and nice clothes and good food and absolutely nowhere in his mind does any genuine relationship dynamics or aspects of unique personality come into play because after years and years of not having it he just. Doesn't. Get it.

So that's why it's lacking in his relationship with Eri. In all of his relationships, really. Because The Boss took him in and loved him and cared for him and Kai knows that but he doesn't understand that. So he's trying his best to "love" and "raise" Eri by being an empty photocopy of a parent at his best, because that's all he is. That's what defines Kai, till the very end.

He's empty. And so is his love. So Eri's room will always be full.

[hereghostslive]

WIP Wednesday

thanks for the tag @carlos-in-glasses !!

yesterday I mentioned reapers and Tommy kinard, so here's some of it. I was going to wait until it was all finished to post but my sister is dragging me a long to lots of places today so I want have time to work on it.

trigger warning, but this does involve major character death for Tommy, although I don't want to totally bum everyone out so I will say it's temporary ... but we're definitely playing in this supernatural realm for a bit though. But this is definitely a Tommy Learns To Fight For His Own Happiness kinda fic.

--

Tommy never makes it to 2025. 

He knows this because he remembers the clock sitting at 11:59 p.m. when the semi hit his truck on New Years Eve. He supposes he could have still been alive while they tried to free him from his car, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? Tommy as he was, a person of mediocre value that held some mildly interesting presences in other people’s lives, was already gone. 

It just took his brain waves a few minutes to follow the rest of him into death. 

But they eventually made it there. 

So when he was fully dead, that was that. Life, completed. 

Was it satisfying? It had its moments, Tommy supposes. 

Did he have any regrets? Well, obviously. Who doesn’t? 

Did he have any unfinished business they should be aware of? I don’t – Wait, what do you —

“— mean by ‘they’?”

Tommy pauses, startled by the sudden sound of his own voice. He looks around but all he can see is a milky sort of darkness, rippling around him like waves in the ocean. If he looks too hard, he starts feeling dizzy, so he turns forward again, and then realizes he’s sitting on one side of a desk. On the other side is a figure of some indistinguishable shape. 

So? It asks. 

Tommy doesn’t see anything he can classify as a mouth move when the shape talks but he hears a voice all the same. 

Tommy clears his throat. “So, what?” 

Is there any unfinished business they should be aware of? 

Tommy’s hit with blue eyes and startled heartbreak, the sound of a door falling closed behind him. And him, the one who locked it and threw away the key. 

He shakes his head. “No. No unfinished business.” 

Good, the shape says. Your processing is complete. Someone will come to collect you soon. 

The shape disappears, there one second and gone the next before Tommy can even blink. 

And just like that, he’s alone. 

Dead, and alone. 

Happy fucking New Year to him. 

–

“Soon” turns out to be … well, Tommy’s not sure how long he’s been here. Somewhere between five seconds and five months sounds accurate to him. Though, does time even exist when you’re dead? 

He looks around him again, but the only thing he sees is that rippling sort of milky darkness. There’s no sound, either. And there doesn’t appear to be anyone else here, no other souls waiting to be … collected? That’s what the shape said, he thinks, however long ago it was that it said that. 

Tommy was never religious so he never really put a lot of thought into what happens after you die. If this is it, he can’t decide if people will be pleased with the answer that obviously something exists or unsatisfied with the result. Then again, nothing ever really turns out the way we want them too. 

As much as Tommy can guess, this is a waystation between the newly dead, and wherever it is you go after that. Whatever questioning he just completed must be part of the deciding factor. 

He wonders if he should be worried about the result but being dead kind of takes away all your worries. He’s not at peace, he doesn’t think, but maybe that part is what comes next. 

--

no pressure tagging: @liminalmemories21 @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @thisbuildinghasfeelings @cecilyv

@alrightbuckaroo @whatsintheboxmh @firstprince-history-huh @carlos-tk

some other bucktommy folks: @leashybebes @screamlet @alchemistc @beanarie @vamphours

[tobuo]

hey so !!!! @mstalltale your point is really interesting and got me thinking so i wanted to add it on to this post. hope you don't mind! i still don't think they're going to bring him back as was, or at least, i'll be really disappointed if they do for the reasons i touched on in my original post, and a few more here, because i think it would cheapen the sacrifice BUT this whole bit of lore is really interesting and touches on a whooooole bunch of other lore i enjoy....... so now im speculating for fun tehehe

SPOILERS FOR OCHKANATLAN, 5.3 ARCHON QUEST & MAUVIKA'S STORY QUEST + SPECULATION ABOUT CAPITANO, XBALANQUE & THE PYRO SOVEREIGN UNDER THE CUT.

FIRSTLY im not sure his lack of face reveal means much. i think it was probably hoyo wanting to let the player know just how horrifying the curse is by explaining capitano as being eroded/rotted beyond recognition... but feeling it might be too graphic to show. but i could be wrong!

as for the crucifixion nails in his symbol, for me that kind of alludes to the fact that capitano died for someone else's sins. mauvika was the one who used the ruler of death's power, she was the one who committed that "sin" and whose life should have been forfeit as a result, but capitano took her place and i guess, in turn, resurrected the lord of the night/the night kingdom that wouldn't have survived if not??? maybe?? you could also say he died for all the other souls that were with him too, to grant them peace they otherwise wouldn't have been given

that said, i definitely think it's interesting that hoyo went the route of having his body remain rather than doing what they did with signora lol. i don't think you're wrong that it's intentional and i DO have a few different thoughts on this sjkdfhsdf. the first is what i believe is most likely, but your comment got me thinking about the others just for fun lol. either way tho, i don't see capitano coming back.... but thats just me

SPECULATION #1 - NATURE OF NIGHT KINGDOM

my main theory would be because the basis of the night kingdom is as a kind of..... liminal space for souls to exist? "between body and mind, life and death" in the words of the genshin wiki, so it makes sense that capitano's death was a spiritual one rather than a physical one, especially considering his curse and that he kinda merged with the lord of the night who rules over the night kingdom. mauvika also mentions that for those afflicted with the curse of immortality that being removed from the physical plane is a kind of peace... i cant remember/find her exact words here im sorry to me that implies that he, and other khaenri'ahns, can't physically die... but that their souls... can? or at least can transcend to some other place where they might escape the curse. if we then also assume this means the khaenri'ahn curse is a physical affliction it makes sense that his body would remain since ronova "upheld" the rules and the curse. that's the whole paradox and this is partly what makes me think he isn't going to be "resurrected". the whole point is that his curse/body/life force is what's sustaining the lord of the night.... him coming back.... would undo that..... his cursed body is the thing sustaining the lord of the night, so it has to remain there. THAT SAID i am definitely interested to know how much of capitano/thrain remains, if any, since he transferred his life force to the lord of the night. she says to mauvika not to seek traces of him... but does that mean his soul is gone completely? WHO KNOWS!!! i'm also SUPER interested to know what this situation will mean if the traveller/their sibling ends the curse of immortality too

SPECULATION #2 - VESSEL FOR XBALANQUE

this is a bit more out there skdjfhsdf but...... the crucifixion nails in his symbol.... which then leads to the idea of resurrection. BUT DOES IT HAVE TO BE CAPITANO'S? there are a LOT of mentions of xbalanque, and he even "appears" in mauvika's story quest. temporarily. he himself says the body he appears in he's "only possessing [it] temporarily" and that the borrowed body is "a bit lacking when it comes to exercise, and hasn't really trained any aspect" but that he has "[his] own plans". AND WHO JUST HAPPENS TO HAVE A FREE BODY RIGHT NOW POTENTIALLY? PRIME REAL ESTATE. MY MAN IS EMPTY one of the main things we also know about xbalanque is that when he killed xiuhcoatl (the pyro sovereign), xbalanque was "revived from the flames". there's a lot of mentions throughout ochkanatlan especially about the everlasting flame of life/primal flame. when the traveller awakens to the pyro element, we even make offerings of burning flint which has a "fiery pulse" to capitano on the throne of primal fire. in ochkanatlan??? i know mauvika's story quest kind of presents it that this one day trip was xbalanque's reward for the "bet" he made with ronova and that he's not planning to return because he "gave" the rest of the "life force" ronova granted him to mauvika after their duel so its highly unlikely but......... the possibility is out there....... especially since, as you said, death isn't an absolute in natlan and the ode of resurrection does still exist in some capacity. maybe the throne of primal fire works as another kind of ode of resurrection??? i definitely think it's intentional that we offer those things to capitano's body/the throne. okay SO maybe i just want playable xbalanque because his lore is SO INTERESTING TO ME and he seems so funny but this is a fun theory all the same

SPECULATION #3 - VESSEL FOR PYRO SOVEREIGN/XIUHCOATL

even more out there...... but this speculation involves much of the same ideas as xbalanque being ressurcted using capitano. some ppl in natlan do think xiuhcoatl is still in the volcano, just in some kind of statis/hibernation or that a husk of him remains after xbalanque killed him but............. again........ if the primal flame/sacred flame/flame of everlasting life etc. has the power to resurrect....... who's to say it's not possible to reawaken the pyro sovereign this way..................... using the throne of primal fire....... ESPECIALLY SINCE THE ARCHON'S SEAT WHOSE POWER COMES FROM THE SOVEREIGNS IS THEIR "DIVINE THRONE".......... lol i don't think this one is super likely, i tend to lean more towards the idea that our little saurian companion will somehow be related to or become the vessel for the pyro sovereign (they are "the chosen of dragons" and have the "flamelord's blessing" after all) BUT we do know from neuvillette that the sovereigns can be reborn in human form............ and its just a fun theory to imagine lol

anyway if anyone has thoughts on this, i'd love to chat about it more!!!!!!

ppl complaining abt capitano ~dying~ like it isn't the most thematically appropriate end to his story. none of the actions we've ever seen from him have been for personal glory or gain. it's perfectly in keeping with who he is to sacrifice himself for a cause like this. it was his choice, on his terms, with the added poetic justice of spitting in the face of the very being who cursed him and all the other khaenri'ahns after suffering for hundreds of years.

like............. yeah it's sad that he's likely never gonna be playable, but honestly i think his storyline was so narratively satisfying and a really gorgeous, fitting end for a really interesting character

[vampirehollieee]

resolutions, revelations ♡

summary: where you and minghao have been secretly dating for a few months now and at the new year’s party, with your friends and his, the two of you decide to make it official | minghao x fem!reader.

a/n: hiii!! it’s my very first oneshot on this account and i think it’s my new year’s gift to all of you 🫶 the story’s kinda cute (i think) but the title’s not the most creative since i didn’t have the time to really think of one before posting. i hope you really enjoy it. HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVES!!

trigger warnings: honestly, not much, really. fluff, drinking for celebrations, kissing, established relationship between reader and minghao (at a personal level).

words: 0.6k words ──⋆｡° ♡

All the lights illuminated every nook and corner of the house. The winter chill mingled with the warmth of the holidays—contradictory, yet perfectly balanced—filled the air of the living room where everyone had gathered to celebrate New Year’s Eve.

“It’s funny how humans get so happy when the Earth finishes one revolution around the Sun,” Soonyoung remarked, holding a glass of champagne as he made small talk with his friends.

You scanned the room, trying to keep a calm expression while searching for Minghao among the sea of people. It was a big night, after all, and you couldn’t deny the nerves bubbling inside you.

A sudden tap on your shoulder sent a jolt through you, but as you turned, the shock turned into a pleasant surprise.

“Hi… I was looking for you. Where did you disappear?” you asked.

Minghao looked at you intently, his gaze warm as he admired how the lights made you glow.

“I was in the washroom. I wish you’d been there with me too… You know why,” he said, a teasing tone laced in his words.

“You really need help, you know?” you replied, rolling your eyes, but the two of you couldn’t help but laugh softly together.

As the noise of the party buzzed around you, Minghao’s voice broke through, soft yet carrying a hint of hesitation.

“So, do you think we should make our relationship official? Tonight? Is it a good time?”

You hesitated for a moment, but before you could respond, he added, “We can do it later, no worries. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

His considerate words put your mind at ease. After all, letting your friends know about your relationship would feel like taking a big step forward.

“I think we should,” you said. “It’s better than them finding out on their own.”

Minghao smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. How do you want to go about it?”

As the night continued, the excitement in the room grew. When the countdown began, the anticipation was palpable as everyone counted down to midnight.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!”

You and Minghao exchanged a glance, bracing yourselves for the reveal but also sharing in the excitement of the New Year.

“Three, two, one—Happy New Year!”

The room erupted into cheers as Minghao suddenly pulled you into a kiss, almost impatiently. The world seemed to go silent for a moment as everyone turned to look at you both, their faces reflecting a mix of surprise and amusement.

You felt self-conscious for a brief second, but when the room broke into cheers, you let yourself melt into the moment.

“We knew you two would start dating!” Jeonghan and Seungcheol exclaimed, their grins wide. It was clear they were proud of their matchmaking instincts.

Minghao pulled back, his cheeks tinged with pink. He’d never kissed anyone in front of his friends before either.

“Oh, shut up, guys,” he muttered, though his smile betrayed his embarrassment.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer and placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head as everyone continued to tease you.

“This is exactly why we didn’t want to tell you!” you replied dramatically, drawing laughter from the group.

As the party carried on, Minghao leaned in and asked, “Well? Doesn’t it feel better to have made it official?”

You nodded, glancing at your friends, who were still buzzing with excitement and playful remarks.

The smile on your face said it all, and Minghao knew in that moment that he’d fight the world to keep that smile shining so brightly.

[bamgyuuuri]

⤷ call it what you want ┈ cbg.

sypnosis. ah, choi beomgyu, your best friend. he's always had a habit of keeping you on your toes, but lately, his actions had you second-guessing everything. why does he treat you differently? the more you think about it, the harder it is to ignore—there’s something more behind his sweetness, and you're determined to find out what.

pairings and tags. bestfriend!choi beomgyu x reader (f/m) . unresolved romantic tension . unspoken feelings . playful banter . beomgyu is lowkey (highkey) bad at expressing emotions . oblivious idiots in love

word count. 2.4k

short note … hi !! first ever fic posted on tumblr, kinda nervous … nevertheless, i hope you like it ! do tell me what you think <3

oftentimes, you found yourself caught in the web of your own thoughts, spiraling deeper with each passing day about the enigma that was beomgyu. he was your best friend, your confidant, your partner in crime—but sometimes, he felt like a puzzle you couldn’t quite solve.

it wasn’t just the big things, like the way he always seemed to show up exactly when you needed him, even without you asking. it was the little things, too—the way he’d hold your bag without a word when you struggled with too many things in your hands. the way he would sit through hours of your favorite shows—ones he didn’t particularly like—without a single complaint. the way his gaze lingered on you just a second too long when he thought you weren’t looking.

you didn’t know what to make of it. beomgyu wasn’t exactly a people pleaser. with others, he had a sharp tongue and a knack for playful teasing that often bordered on exasperation. but with you? he softened, like an untouchable winter snow melting under the warmth of spring. he never said no to you, even when he should have. even when you knew you were being unreasonable.

and it wasn’t like he didn’t have boundaries. you’d seen him draw them with others—firm, unyielding lines that no one dared to cross. yet, with you, those lines blurred until they were practically nonexistent.

it didn’t make sense. friends had limits, didn’t they? there were unspoken rules, boundaries that even the closest of friendships respected. but beomgyu seemed to exist in a different realm when it came to you, a realm where rules didn’t apply, and you were left wondering why.

was it guilt? pity? some unspoken sense of obligation? the thought made your stomach churn, and yet you couldn’t shake the tiny flicker of something else—a hope you didn’t dare name.

today, that flicker burned brighter, fueled by the quiet ache in your chest as you (im)patiently waited for his arrival as you sat on the park bench. you had asked him hangout once again just a few hours prior, and like always, he agreed without a second thought.

you clenched your hands together, the words bubbling up inside you like a storm waiting to break. you needed answers.

lost in your thoughts, you barely registered the faint sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel path, growing louder until they stopped right in front of you. a shadow fell over your face, and a familiar voice jolted you out of your reverie.

“hey. you alive in there?” beomgyu’s face hovered close, upside-down in your line of vision as he bent over to peer at you.

you blinked up at him, startled. “you—what are you doing?”

“checking if you’ve been body-snatched,” he replied, his grin wide and mischievous. “you’ve been sitting there looking all existential. do i need to call someone?”

you sat up straighter, huffing in mock indignation. “it’s nothing. i was just thinking.”

“dangerous,” he teased, straightening up and plopping onto the bench beside you. he threw his arm dramatically over the backrest, tilting his head to look at you with an exaggeratedly concerned expression. “don’t hurt yourself, okay? your brain only has so much capacity.”

“funny,” you reply dryly, rolling your eyes.

but his presence, his warmth beside you, already started to untangle the knot of thoughts swirling in your chest. that was the thing about beomgyu—he always had a way of pulling you back to the surface, no matter how deep you were sinking.

“what were you thinking about, anyway?” he asked, nudging your shoulder with his. “was it me? wait—let me guess. it was me, wasn’t it?”

“wow,” you deadpanned, yet trying to hide your surprise on how he was so spot on.  “how’d you figure it out?”

“i mean, come on. i'm a pretty captivating subject,” he said, flashing you a cheeky grin. “if i were you, i’d think about me too.”

you snorted, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up in your chest. “you’re too full of yourself.”

“only when I’m around you,” he retorts without missing a beat, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something deeper.

the words hit you in a way you didn’t expect, and you found yourself staring at him, searching his face. he looked completely at ease, his eyes sparkling with amusement and the corners of his mouth still curled into a smile. but there was something in the way he looked at you—something that made your heart skip a beat.

“you’re so weird,” you muttered, looking away before he could notice the way your cheeks had started to heat up.

“says the person who was just having a staring contest with the sky,” he shot back, leaning closer until his shoulder bumped yours. “come on, tell me. what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”

his tone was light, teasing, but there was an undercurrent of genuine curiosity, and you dare say concern, that made your chest tighten. you hesitated, the words you’d been mulling over all day sitting heavy on your tongue.

“it’s really nothing,” you respond, but the words came out too quickly, too forced.

beomgyu raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “liar.”

“i'm not lying!” you insisted, though your voice betrayed you by pitching higher.

“oh, you so are,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “your nose is doing that twitchy thing it always does when you’re trying to cover something up.”

“my nose does not twitch!”

“it totally does.”

“does not!”

“does too,” he said with a laugh, leaning back and stretching his legs out in front of him. “you’re a terrible liar, you know? it’s one of your most endearing qualities.” even when teasing you, he just couldn’t help but let some of his fondness slip out.

you crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. “if you’re trying to get me to confess to some made-up crime, it’s not going to work.”

“who said anything about crime?” he shot back, tilting his head with a mock-innocent expression. “i’m just saying, if you want to pour your heart out to me, i’m all ears. i mean, i’m basically your emotional support rock at this point, right?”

you laughed despite yourself, the sound easing the tension that had been building in your chest. “you’re impossible.”

“impossible to resist,” he said with a wink, earning another eye roll from you.

but the banter, as much as it made you smile, wasn’t enough to distract you from the weight of the question pressing against your ribs. beomgyu, with all his lightheartedness and teasing, made it so easy to forget, but you couldn’t keep brushing it aside.

your gaze softened as you looked at him, really looked at him. the way his grin reached his eyes, the way he never seemed to run out of things to say around you, the way his entire demeanor shifted when it was just the two of you—more animated, more comfortable, like he could let down his guard.

“beomgyu,” you said, quieter this time, your voice cutting through his playful chatter.

upon hearing his name, he turns to you with a curious expression. “yeah?”

“why do you…” you hesitated, the words catching in your throat.

“why do i what?” he prompted, his tone gentler now, though his eyes still held a spark of curiosity.

“why do you act so differently with me?”

the question lingered in the air, and for the first time, you saw the confidence in his expression waver. his grin slowly faded, replaced by something more cautious, almost vulnerable.

“different how?” he asked, though you could tell he already knew what you meant.

“you let me get away with everything,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “you’re so… patient with me, even when i know i’m being ridiculous. you don’t act like this with anyone else. why?”

beomgyu opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if the words he wanted to say were caught somewhere between his heart and his tongue. his fingers drummed nervously against his knee, his gaze flickering away from yours. “i don’t know,” he said finally, but the words sounded hollow even to him.

“yes, you do,” you said, leaning in slightly. “be honest with me, gyu.”

beomgyu didn’t look at you. instead, his eyes were on the ground, his fingers toying with the sleeve of his hoodie, as if the fabric was the most fascinating thing in the world at that moment. there was something different about him now, something that made your heart beat a little faster, but also a little heavier.

“right.” his voice wavered slightly, but he quickly masked it with a cough. “you know, i don’t really think it’s that complicated.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, sensing his hesitation despite his nonchalant tone. “not complicated?” you almost scoffed, trying to mask the vulnerability creeping into your chest. “well, it’s a little complicated for me. i’ve been thinking about this for days, gyu.”

he shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tightening into fists, his gaze still avoiding yours. there was a flicker in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly you couldn’t catch it. his lips pressed into a thin line. “i don’t know what you want me to say.”

his words were like a soft slap to your chest, and for a moment, you were silent, unsure if you should push further or retreat. but the question, the confusion inside you, was too loud to ignore now.

“i just want you to be honest with me,” you pressed, voice quieter this time. “why are you so... different with me? you’re not like this with anyone else. you just let me... let me do whatever I want.”

beomgyu’s shoulders stiffened at your words, and for a moment, it looked like he might say something, but he clamped his mouth shut. his brow furrowed, and the muscles in his jaw twitched as he fought to hold back whatever he was thinking.

“maybe... maybe i just don’t care enough to question you.” his tone was too light, too dismissive, but it didn’t quite match the storm of emotion brewing behind his eyes. his voice was steady, but there was a nervous edge to it; a trembling hesitation that you could feel radiating from him like heat.

that wasn’t it. you knew it wasn’t it, and it made you press on. “no, beomgyu,” you say, your voice a little firmer now, though your heart was thumping harder in your chest. “it’s more than that, and you know it. you let me cling to you, drag you across the city, and you never complain. you never ask why. you just... go along with it. no one else gets that from you. so tell me why.”

the silence that followed felt suffocating. beomgyu was so still beside you that it almost scared you. his hand clenched, then unclenched by his side, and you could see the muscles in his neck tighten, the pulse in his throat racing. his eyes flicked to you for a split second before darting away again.

"i don't know," he muttered, his voice almost too quiet to hear. "maybe i just... like spending time with you."

it wasn’t an answer, it was a deflection; a weak attempt to hide what he really meant. his words were wrapped in a layer of indifference, but underneath, you saw the flicker of something else—something warmer, something real, but it was buried under layers of uncertainty.

his breath hitched as he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here, with you, in this moment. you could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his brows furrowed as if the words were physically painful to say. the quiet moments between you were the loudest, filled with all the things neither of you were saying.

“i just don’t get it,” you said, voice trembling slightly as you leaned in closer, watching him with wide eyes. “you act like... like you care about what i want all the time, but why? why is it always so easy for you with me?”

beomgyu froze at the question, his expression faltering for the briefest moment. his lips parted, but the words didn’t come. you could almost hear the internal battle waging in his mind—his desire to be honest, to tell you everything, fighting against the fear of what would happen if he did. his eyes flickered to you again, but quickly darted away, unable to hold your gaze for longer than a second.

“i don’t... i don’t know how to explain it,” he finally relents, albeit slightly, his voice distant and strained. “it’s just... you’re... you’re easy to be with. okay? with you, it's like i don’t have to think; like i don’t have to second-guess myself and my actions. it’s simple. simple and... easy.”

you didn’t buy it, but you didn’t press him further. the hesitation in his voice, the way his gaze avoided yours, told you everything you needed to know. he was hiding something, something deep, something that made his heart race whenever you got too close to the truth.

but what? what was it?

for a moment, the silence stretched between you again, and you found yourself leaning back slightly, letting the words settle in the air. you studied beomgyu carefully, noticing how his posture had changed—how his shoulders were tense, how his hands were gripping the fabric of his pants like he was trying to ground himself.

“i just... don’t want to mess it up, okay?” beomgyu’s voice cracked on the last word, and you saw his eyes flicker to yours for the briefest moment before he looked away again, his face flushed in a way that made you feel both confused and oddly warm.

you stared at him, trying to process everything that had just happened. beomgyu wasn’t saying it—he wasn’t giving you the straightforward answer you were hoping for—but his emotions were clear. the way he was avoiding your gaze, the way his heart raced every time you got close to asking, and how his words came out jagged and unsure... it all pointed to something he wasn’t ready to admit.

but deep down, you could feel it—he genuinely cared. you just had to wait. you just had to be patient with him. with the way he held back, with the way he tried to guard his feelings so fiercely, it was clear that he needed time.

"beomgyu," you whispered, your voice softer now, as you took a small step closer to him. "it's okay. you don't have to say it if you're not ready. i... i'm sorry for pushing you too hard."

he finally turned to you then, his eyes meeting yours in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. and though he didn’t say it, the unspoken words hung between you like a promise—one he wasn’t ready to make, but one that you knew, deep down, he was already thinking.

[copilot-crashout]

Oh em gee I love ur writing so much it physically cleanses me sjsjjsjsj

Anyhoo, I was wondering if I could politely request Mouthwashing x reader (separate) where reader writes them “anonymous” love letters. Reader thinks they are being sneaky but the crew have known from the first letter its them and just chose to keep quiet^^? Idk I am kinda crazy about dorky!reader..

Ps #1(If u don’t wanna do all the characters, that fine!)

Pairing: Tulpar crew x gn!reader

Content Warning: None! [except I gave up on proofreading.. ( ᐡ๐ ·̫ ๐)〣]

[A/N]: You're so sweet! Thank you, lovely anon!! (°´˘`°) I default to all the characters, so don't worry! I don't want to leave anyone's favourites out! I wonder if you can tell who my favourite is from my work... ( ⩌⩊⩌)✧

CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> What a charming admirer he has! He grins when he notices you nervously looking around before entering his room, only to find the cutest little letter in his room professing their love to him.

-> He keeps hold of all of them. They're worth more than gold anyway. He doesn't have the heart to tell you right away, not when he sees your chest puffed out with pride when you place another letter in his room, a mission successful in your eyes. Instead, he focuses on noticing the little details he'd never seemed to pick up on initially. You had it bad for him, huh?

-> Curly teases you about it. He never mentions them directly, but he will often exaggerate his behaviours to the most recent letter he read. You mentioned how tall he was. He's sure to flaunt it off more.

Since when were things in this kitchen placed so high?

You sighed to yourself, stretching to try and grab some simple condiment packets you swore were placed on the countertop the last time you saw them. Luckily for you, Curly walks in at the perfect moment. When you ask for help, he gives a confident grin as he nods, stepping towards you. As expected of him.

What you didn't expect was the warm hand he placed on your hip or the way his chest pressed into your back as he grabbed exactly what you were asking for, the steady thrum of his heartbeat only making yours speed up. You're left red-faced and stuttering, nervous hands taking the packets out of his larger one.

"You're all red. If you're not feeling well, you should take a visit to Anya. I can walk you there."

JIMMY:

-> He loves it. End of. They boost his confidence in ways he didn't even know was possible. The idea of you watching him when he didn't notice was one he found sickly sweet, prideful that someone loved him as much as he deserved.

-> He was initially planning to tell you he knew after the first letter. He had dreamed about the way he'd hold your letter back to you, a sly grin as he watched you scramble for an answer, flustered before ultimately coming clean about your attempts to court him. Once he sees the second letter, however, his mindset changes.

-> It's simply too cute. The way you sneak around to keep it anonymous and the way you wear your heart on your sleeve. He's delighted by how much of your mind he occupies. It excites him to think about how much you try to learn about him. Do you know his routine by heart? What about his likes and dislikes? Better yet, were you trying to mould yourself into the perfect partner for him (although this seems more of a dream on his part than a genuine question...)? He gets a sick kick out of it.

-> He finds himself re-reading the letters in the middle of the night, the ones that point out the smallest parts of himself that you talked about so affectionately. It made him nauseous. Words so tender weren't something he came by so easily, nor was it something he believed he deserved. He's used to one-night stands, a cheap fuck, nothing so... romantic. Perhaps he could get used to this.

-> He's not going to be soft, though, as he teases you about it. Offhandedly mentions the letter and if you knew who could leave such a thing in his room and grins when you instantly deny it and make a show of him believing you. He gets incredibly touchy, too. His hands linger for a fraction longer than they need to. He stands as close to you as he can, looming over you whenever he has the time. Have you noticed the way the atmosphere changes when it's just the two of you alone? He'll look forward to your next letter. Maybe you wrote about it.

-> He could try playing the long game for once. The reward feels so much sweeter that way.

ANYA:

-> Anya is perceptive first and foremost. Rather than catching her admirer mid-delivery, she uncovers your identity through your handwriting.

-> The letters cheer her up endlessly. They're a sweet reminder of how someone adores her, even when she's overwhelmed. It's hard on board, but your letters become a routine that she looks forward to. I think she's one of the only characters who would tell you she knows, feeling guilty about leaving you in the dark about something that could embarrass you. However, she'd never ask you to stop. Anya gushes about how much she appreciates every single letter, keeping them and re-reading them when she can and she tells you how she figured it out, giggling when you stare at her like you're begging for the floor to swallow you whole.

-> Anya makes it a priority to keep you happy. Your letters do so much for her, she only wants you to feel the same. You'll find her lingering around you more, offering hugs or a shoulder to lean on whenever possible. If you're especially tired, she'll help finish your work with you. Another set of hands would always help.

-> She begins to write small compliments on her Post-it notes, leaving them in places you frequent. If you have tools you use, she places a note talking about how hardworking you are on there. Otherwise, you begin to find small notes in your room. It becomes a ritual between the both of you, sending each other letters when you can. She just wants you to know how loved you are.

DAISUKE:

-> For him!? Really!?

-> He's kicking his feet and giggling, rolling around in his bed, head buried into his pillows. If you thought you were dorky, then he's 100 times worse.

-> He's attached to your hip. You thought he was helpful and sweet? Well, he'll help you with your work! Fun to be around? In his free time, he's running to you for another round of board games or to play on his Game Boy.

-> He wouldn't know subtle if it slapped him in his face. It's unfortunate for the rest of the crew, who have to watch two love-sick adults pine for each other as if they're not reciprocated.

-> Whenever he feels especially sad, he re-reads the letters. Even if he might feel useless at times, that he doesn't have a plan for his future, he does have the assurance that you'll be there by his side. You're a great person. If you can find all these amazing things about him then... He's sure he can make something great of himself.

SWANSEA:

"Jesus, this kids got it rough."

-> That's his first thought before it slowly dissolves into a fond affection. He's a bit too old for this lovey-dovey yearning shtick, right? Initially, he finds himself sighing at the letters, wondering when and how would be the best way to stop this little game of yours. He feels undeserving of it. You have so much going for you. You simply don't deserve someone like him. He wants to push you away, but the letters mean too much to him. Instead, he becomes charmed by it all, awaiting every letter with bated breath.

-> You do know how to make him feel young again. Each letter leaves his heart pounding, feeling like a young schoolboy rather than a washed-out mechanic.

-> He keeps every single one. If you place them in little envelopes or place small gifts like stickers in them, you'll be glad to know he keeps it all in his bedside drawer.

-> He's one to return the favour, too. He's picked up a few skills with his work. Blue-collar jobs like this have enough transferable skills to help in the creative department. He hopes you're not too surprised if you find your broken items repaired or a small figure of your favourite animal made out of scraps in your room.

-> Perhaps... He's the one who's got it bad.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Major Blog Update: Inbox Cleared, Life Updates, a big thank you and More!

First of all the big one:

The deed is done...The Inbox is dead.

Long live the inbox.

To get a fresh start, I've deleted the current inbox of all my asks.

The inbox memes, the nightmares...they're finally over...

ANYWAYS, feel free to send in any request you may have as per usual, just figured I clear that damn thing finally out considering I've had asks that are three years old in there.

Right now I'm really getting into Honkai: Star Rail since Natlan kinda killed my enjoyment of Genshin, but those gals I will still love and write for (I mean, I'm sure as heck not changing the blog url) so don't feel discouraged if you came to this blog because of my Genshin content. And of course my other fandoms are still good to rock and roll!

One last thing before the cut:

I want to thank EVERY ONE of you for following this blog and sticking around with my goofy ah for so long.

I genuinely get excited to read any message or request you put under my posts or inbox, whether it be feedback or joking around! And I know we have the memes going on about me being drowned, please know I do genuinely take the time to look at every single one that comes in everyday, even if I didn't say anything or respond. And it means the world to me that ya'll like my writing enough to continue asking of me.

You all are the reason I even put the effort I do in this blog for so many years, from my newer followers to those who have followed me since my first blog. I could not ask for a better group than ya'll.

From the bottom of my heart, thanks, and let's have a great year together!

ANYWHO: For those who care enough, this is what's been going on with me for the last few months.

Work:

As for why I've been absent for a while: simply put because I work a retail job. Thankfully nothing too bad, it's just normal scheduling and it IS work I very much enjoy and get paid relatively well. My love for writing is still very strong as is my simping, so no worries, I don't plan on going anywhere.

I DO greatly apologize for making everyone wait for literally ANYTHING, doubly so if you had an ask I didn't get to yet. I wanted to honestly save everything into my drafts, but alas I could only choose some select ones.

You're more than welcome to send it back in, and since things have calmed down I SHOULD be getting to them a lot faster.

Genshin:

In regards to what I said earlier about Genshin: Natlan kind of killed any enjoyment I had playing, characters were REALLY unappealing to me, it made my friends stop playing so therefore I stopped as well as that was the major reason I still had it installed. I don't really plan on adding anyone from Natlan or anyone else from that game in the future, so apologies if you were looking forward to that from me specifically.

Star Rail has been filling the hole in my heart and honestly? I have a lot more writing freedom writing the gals from there, but again, don't feel afraid to send me any genshin request! I still simp for my Mondstadt women after all.

Other things I've been doing/Ideas for the blog:

I've also been playing games (and getting distracted) with my irl friends and trying to catch up on my hobbies to prevent myself from burning out, Minecraft has been a big thing lately for me again: specifically Pixelmon LMAO.

For 2025 though, I plan to at least post an imagine once a week starting next week since things are still settling down and I have to get my work schedule.

I might also start posting (Eventually) my personal writing projects here to get feedback and possibly go to AO3 to post my crossover series since Tumblr isn't really the place to be doing so (Chief among them my FE3H AU: House Isekai), or if demand is high enough I'll post it here.

Oh, and with this major update I have once again updated my banner, not that it's really important, just that I put a good amount of effort in it, more than you'd think for how simple it is. I also want to see if anyone even gets my reference LMAO

Once this post goes live, I plan to add a few new characters, starting with the Commander from Girls' Frontline but we'll see how it goes.

I think that's all I got for right now, so see ya soon guys!

- Chris

[ddemons-bblog]

So I finally watched helluva boss, season 1 & 2. TW-R*pe, Cannibalism, Fatphobia. DNI: Helluva/Hazbin stans, people who are wanting to argue with me on my opinions. Just block me. I know I'm late to the critical party and have some opinions already said by others, as well as some of my own opinions that y'all may disagree with, but here's what I have to say:

Here are my thoughts as a queer individual and a demonolator:

1. Why are there sexes assigned to imps (sexual diamorphism) Demons in Christianity (and Luciferianism) (depending on the branch) have no sex or gender (except for succubi and incubi maybe) also Imps all have the same shade of red skin across all rings, so why is there no variations in each ring such as greed, lust, etc.

2. Now I see why Stolas told me he doesn't like his depiction. He doesn't wear enough starry or naturey clothing (except in ozzie's) and he's went from being a weird sexual pervert (even possibly a r*pist) to now being sad all the time. Like as someone with depression this is not accurate. Depression is more than just being sad.

3. Beelzebub is a fox? I honestly don't care about that but the wrong sigil was used. Also like, I like her party theme, but she's probably the reason that the hellhounds are so low class to begin with.

4. Wow. So Stolas's wife is abusive to him. Not a bad idea to write, but she's so cartoonishly evil and one dimensional like Andrealphus is. (Who looks like an Elsa ripoff?)

5. Andrealphus was confirmed gay I think, but it's so fucking weird to flirt/say weird things with your sister man. 😭

6. Mammon should be a two headed Bird according to demonology, why is he a spider? I like him though, he's funny. I just wish he wasn't used to be a fatphobic stereotype.

7. Man, I feel so bad for Octavia. She deserves better. Both her parents suck.

8. Worldbuilding: I like the idea of hell being circus themed, if only Beelzebub, Leviathan, and Belphegor had the theme on their outfits too. Also, I like the Gluttony, Sloth, and Wrath ring designs, but the rest shown (Lust, Greed, Pride) are just boring cities with weird sky colors. I hope Envy has a good ring design.

9.Full demon forms, just like Lucifer's I am SO disappointed, minus Stolas's full demon form. That one is nice. Like they just are bigger versions of themselves atp.

10. Paimon is a priveleged anti poor asshole. This literally demonizes irl! paimon, who I also work with.

11. Satanists portrayals: I HATE how Martha is portrayed as a violent cannibal ans a Satanist. The religion is actually peaceful. Also, as a Stolas worshipper, we do not do sacrifices to him. That is a violent stereotype and it's offensive.

12. The Hellhound designs: They're just red eyed dogs, which is okay, but I'd perfer horns, skulls n bones, fire, and 3 heads. Also loona's feral form is boring.

13. Sallie May needs more screentime. I like her but she just feels like a token trans character.

14. Y'all are gonna disagree with me on this but I like Fizzmodeus. They're cute.

15. The Cherubs are cringe as fuck. I hate them. Especially Deerie.

16. I like how Vassago isn't British. For fucks sake the Goetia are based on demonized gods and was written in France. So making them British pissed me off. I don't like how he is just a used design though.

16. Overall, I honestly didn't like Stolas, Paimon or Andrealphus's depictions. But Vassago and Asmodeus I liked. Making Asmodeus not a r*pist is kinda nice for a change.

17. Seven Deadly Sins- If you're gonna make an "anti-Christian" show then at least omit this. Because we personally believe in our own seperate sins against Satan and others, and the only "sins" we embrace are Lust (when all of these "sins" done in moderation) and Gluttony, and Pride. We always agree that Greed is 100% bad in my groups, so making a show that says "embrace sin" with Greed and Envy being part of those is kinda....bad. Also, some Satanists believe in their own Sins to completely avoid Harming others, Controlling others, Always forgiving horrible people, etc.

So those are my thoughts. I may not talk about this crapshow much anymore on here on my page. I want to focus more on my spirituality.