#(referencing my own fic there)

[payasita]

*drops a dead heretic at your door* Meow

yeah

[kulemiwrites]

𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐓. 𝟏| 𝐀𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐚

Part: i of iii

Genre: Romance, Eventual Smut

Rating: 18+

Word count: 5.1k

Character(s): Akira Nishikiyama, fem!Reader

Warning: Do not read if the idea of an f/o having previous partners or you being the object of envy is upsetting to you. Also, this is not an established relationship fic. Too long for tumblr? Read on AO3

Nishikiyama is a regular at your club and he's quite popular amongst your coworkers. He tends to be at the center of all the hot gossip backstage and now, so are you. Word is, you're the latest notch on his bedpost and more than privy to his secret talent. Are the rumors true?

There were names that you became familiar with after spending any amount of time in the Kamurocho nightlife. Some were names of people to watch out for- bad news, dangerous, some of the last people in town you’d want to cross paths with. Some were known for simply throwing their weight around- flashing their cash, accompanied by muscle, having a pissy fit whenever they didn’t quite get their way. There were also the names of the guy or gal you went to when you really needed to know something or to have something done. Or perhaps they just had a bit of a… reputation– word got around about them. Depending on who you spoke to in town, Akira Nishikiyama could have fit into any one of those categories.

You’d never seen much of his violent side but you knew perfectly well how capable he was of it. He’d offered a hand to security once when a customer got a tad too “friendly” with you. He never quite threw a tantrum but he wasn’t above spilling a wad of cash on the podium to get ahead of the line when there was a wait. However, there was one thing you couldn’t deny without a shadow of a doubt: Nishikiyama had quite the reputation.

He wasn’t the most popular with men from what you could tell. Even the men he’d come into the club with seemed to give him a bit of a hard time. Sometimes he seemed to take it in stride. Other times, through the fury in his sharp brown glare you could see that there seemed to be a silent promise of a brawl outside once the session was over.

The women however, fell over themselves to get to him. You couldn’t say that you didn’t see the appeal. He was handsome– beyond handsome, sometimes when you sat with him and watched him lower his defenses enough to smile and laugh, he was quite beautiful even. His hair had more volume than some of the girls in the dressing room. He was no slouch either. Every single one of his suits were designer– you didn’t know which designers but after being in this business for long enough, you could tell the difference between a tailored, brand name suit and a shoddy, discount shop suit trying to pass itself off as one. There was never even a speck of dirt on his shiny leather shoes. 

And he always smelled absolutely divine-- Fresh. Woody. Something, something, sensual masculinity. You didn’t know the right words but it alone was captivating. Even you could find yourself lost in that aroma and unconsciously bow over hoping for more.

There was a draw to him.

However, it wasn’t just his good looks that had the girls dying to swarm him like flies to honey. He had charm, too. It was hard to miss, especially when he routinely surrounded himself with charmless buffoons. 

He stood out and he made it seem effortless.

Nishikiyama had been your regular for a year, at least. Perhaps you’d been seeing him for longer but you only decided to start paying attention to how often he would request you when your coworkers began to complain. When he first began visiting the club, infrequently, every couple months or so, he’d take any girl he’d been sat with but after seeing you a few times, he seemed to increase his visits– how often he saw you. 

He’d begun to show up about once or twice a week, each time with a different ensemble of men in his entourage– familiar faces but never quite the exact same group. If he was the first to arrive, which he typically was, you were requested. He’d take no one else. It mattered none to him that you were busy. If he couldn’t bri– pay to have you reassigned from whoever you were serving originally, he’d take a placeholder and wait until you were available. Either way, he’d see you before the night was over.

He wasn’t the most patient about it but still, he’d wait, craning his neck around the room until you made your way over to him.

This behavior of his had begun to cause a bit of a stir in the dressing room and in the beginning you’d done your best to ignore it but you were now at your wits end. 

There were…rumors about Akira Nishikiyama and many of them circulated in the dressing room then made their way out into the streets of Kamurocho. Then, vice versa. It wasn’t as if you wanted to hear them. You never even asked but the information always managed to find its way to you somehow; be it an overheard conversation or someone giddily whispering over your shoulder what they’d just “found out”. In their minds, they thought it to be vital information for you. 

After all, you were allegedly Nishikiyama’s “favorite”.

Some of the rumors were silly, nothing that anyone should have bothered to concern themselves with. Things like: A friend of a friend had given him her number and he’d never called her! What a jerk, right? Or, he’d dated some college girl a few summers ago and then suddenly broke it off and ever since she’d been telling everyone that she wants him back. Whose business was that anyway? Then, there were other things you would hear, that, even though you pretended not to care, it did perk your ears juuust a little. 

There was a hostess that used to work with you a couple months ago who quit- reasons unknown. Word in the dressing room was that they had a bit of a “thing” together– a one night stand. She wouldn’t stop bringing it up whenever he showed up and requested you instead of her. Essentially, every time he showed up... You supposed it was meant to make you jealous but in reality, it only made you question why he’d go after such a bratty girl to begin with. 

You questioned his taste, sure, but, jealous? Of course not.

You had another coworker who alleged to have hooked up with him too but she’d only mentioned it once or twice after going out drinking with the others after work. The rest did the legwork for her. 

At the risk of making the man sound a tad promiscuous, there were quite a few different stories going around about him. All from different women. And although the stories all started differently, they typically ended the same way: Nishikiyama-kun went down on me and gave me the best orgasm of my life.

Again, it wasn’t as if you wanted to know these things but hearing that same conclusion time and time again did make you slightly curious. You had to admit. Could he really be that good? Then, you’d mentally kick yourself anytime you found the thought circulating in your mind. He was your regular– you shouldn’t be entertaining such thoughts even in absolute jest. 

One had to maintain a level of professionalism here.

His notoriety amongst the ladies and his proclivity for you, though, had begun to make work a little unbearable. Where you once fell under the radar, you were now under the spotlight– right there with Nishikiyama and his wagging tongue. The gossip had gone from simply being about him and various faceless women in town to being about you, specifically.

And so, you became an object of resentment and envy.

In their minds, if you’d been hooking up with the man after hours, why not just come clean like the others? Also, you were raking it in when he stopped by! That had to go against some sort of guideline. You had to answer to managers on multiple occasions that, no, you were not having casual sex with a customer and yes, you did understand that went against club policy. The ladies couldn’t understand why the hell he would be giving you so much attention if you weren’t selling the goods on the side. You knew deep down the managers didn’t really care as it was bringing in a hefty, steady flow of cash but they were posturing to keep the others happy. 

You got it from both ends and it pissed you off immensely because there wasn’t the slightest bit of truth to any of it.

In fact, the infamous “Nishikiyama-kun~” hadn’t come on to you once since he’d started requesting you all that time ago. Things were no different with him than they were with the rest of your customers and you were sure that your coworkers knew that as they tended to stand around and seethe and stare as you worked if they weren’t paired off with you. 

You were the friendly hostess– the one that customers could count on to help cheer them up after a rough day. The listening ear, the shoulder to cry on. You were the one who lifted their spirits and made them laugh. That was your role. You weren’t quite equipped to play the seductress that they were all accusing you of being. Whenever your clients had their moods lifted high enough and were leaning in for something a little more playful, or romantic in nature, you called in reinforcements.

Even so, he’d always seemed to go at your pace. Never once have you ever had to pass him off to someone else and it sort of begged the question: What gives? If he was such a casanova picking up girls here and over yonder, why the hell hasn’t he ever tried anything with you? Were you not his type or something? It wasn’t as if you wanted him to hit on you– Gosh, anything but! But… 

Well, you’d at least like the courtesy of shooting him down. 

After everything you’d heard about the guy from the others, you thought, well, it’d just be polite!

“______!” the floor manager shouted your name, startling you as you reapplied your lipstick in the mirror. 

The crimson had smeared past your lip line and down your chin. You looked up at him, making cold eye contact with his reflection in the mirror. You could see him biting back a smile as he pressed his palms together. 

“Yeah?”

“One of your regulars is here to see you,” he said.

You cleaned the smeared lipstick, continuing to look up at him. “Alright, who is it?” But you didn’t really need to ask, you had a hunch.

“Nishikiyama-sama.” he said curtly.

“I see.” you said, fixing the neckline of your dress. “Let him know I’ll be out in a bit.”

The man bowed, “Of course.”

The woman at the vanity next to yours, a veteran at the club, shot you a dirty look. “‘Of course’.” she echoed.

You were so exhausted with the catty attitudes but you tried to at least respect the hierarchy of the place, as much as it pained you. So, you lifted yourself from the stool to excuse yourself and meet with your client. Before turning, you scanned your vanity for things that he’d previously gifted you with and decided on wearing them instead. So, you swapped the emerald and gold necklace for the pearl pendant he’d brought you last week. You spritzed yourself with the perfume from last month and slipped on the bracelet from the beginning of it all. You passed over your reflection one last time before heading toward the velvet curtains.

Perhaps it was a little embarrassing to say but Nishiki felt at home whenever he’d come to this place. The drinks were a bit watered down and overpriced but the food wasn’t bad and the service was phenomenal. He didn’t always feel that way though. In fact, it took more than a few tries to get it right and usually, he gave up on a place when it failed to satisfy him the first time. After all, every 10 paces, there’s another hostess club with the same damn drink menu with the same damn food with the same damn tropes of women to pawn off to the men willing to waste their time and money.

But not every single one of those clubs had a girl like you in it. 

To say you were cute would have been an absolute understatement but that wasn’t what kept him coming back. Kamurocho was the land of beautiful women. It was the way you did your job. You suspected that he had money– he saw you size him up when you first greeted him but you never tried to upsell him on anything. If you were attracted to him, he sure as hell couldn’t tell. You never pushed yourself up on him or puffed out your chest, grabbed onto him or played in his hair like the treatment he’s used to at these sorts of places. You simply filled his drink, kept him company and looked absolutely stunning doing it. 

Sometimes, you helped him relax– other times, you were the reason that he couldn’t but he’d never let you see him sweat… 

Sure, he did have nights when he wanted to go out and have a cute girl go all out flirting with him every once in a while but he had other places for that. This place was where he went to take it easy or schmooze or both and he’d sing its praises (and yours) to anyone that’d listen. Hence why he brought so many people here– that and, he did have days where… and he couldn’t explain it but he just had a strong desire to hear your voice and see you, admire your smile and laugh, eyes and when you wouldn’t notice, your figure. 

Tonight was one of those nights, the desire to just have you near him was so unbelievably strong but he feared his party this evening wasn’t the most hometrained. They just might’ve blown his cover if he wasn’t careful enough.

He sat back against the teal, chenille banquette, arms stretched along the back while his right leg crossed loosely over the left, foot rocking above his knee. He’d been smirking as his two old buddies from middle school debated inappropriately about what they would and wouldn’t do in bed. He reached forward and grabbed his lit cigarette from the ashtray as the conversation pivoted to oral sex. These guys were absolute goobers with no game at all. He hoped they’d stop by the time the girls arrived to keep them company or else they’d just start telling on themselves.

This should be good. He thought, right eye narrowing a bit as he softly hollowed his cheeks on inhale.

“I just don’t get how guys can stomach it for that long. A couple of licks and I’m over it.” his buddy Miura with a wife and two kids said.

Muira was a loyal friend but he wasn’t so much as a husband and to hear he was also a selfish lover, Nishiki could see why things turned out the way they did. He released his smoke and chuckled.

“‘A couple licks’?” he repeated incredulously. 

His other friend, Takagi, folded his arm over his rounded belly and smiled proudly, “I do just enough to get ‘em wet then I stick it in.”

Nishiki’s eyes widened. He shook his head as he rubbed at his bottom lip with his cigarette wielding hand. “You guys are horrific. I don’t even want to imagine the horror stories those poor girls are going back and telling their friends about you.”

Miura clicked his tongue, “Who cares what stories they tell. I know what really happened!”

Nishiki raised a brow at his friend and teased, “What, that you didn’t make them cum?”

“That’s not true!” the man denied, his face quickly growing red. “I’ve made loads of ladies cum! I always make them cum! Every single one of them!”

“Somehow I doubt that, Mr. Two Licks I’m Out.” Nishiki laughed. 

Takagi rested his arms on his knees and stared at their friend with a look of concern. “Say, Miura, why you making it sound like you get so much pussy or somethin’ anyway? I’m really thinkin’ of tellin’ your wife at this point. I mean, think of the kids.”

“She’s the one that started screwin’ that damn rice farmer!” 

“Awww.” Nishiki and Takagi said in false sympathy. Muira had long forgotten he’d drunkenly admitted to his wife finding out about his regular cheating and agreeing to stay together for the sake of the kids but she would be stepping out in the meantime. Neither of them felt bad for him. 

Great friend, horrible husband.

Your voice, as lovely as the last he’d heard it– two nights ago to be exact, cut into his banter with his friends and he tried to make sure he wasn’t too responsive when he turned to meet it. He was glad you didn’t have a stethoscope attached to his chest or otherwise you’d hear his heart playing blast beats. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” you chirped, your hands clasped in between your thighs as you bowed deeply.  

You were wearing that cute, knee length dress you’d just bought last week. He remembered you being so excited about it when you described it to him. He was subtle about his eyes when they scanned you from top to bottom before you swiped your pretty, manicured hands beneath your perfect ass to pull your dress taut before taking your usual seat beside him.  He softly took his bottom lip in between his teeth and tilted his head to the side as he tried to regulate his breathing. 

Fuck, you looked amazing tonight. You looked amazing every night but tonight you had a certain glow about you. He could just eat you up… 

Figuratively, of course.

“It’s alright.” he said, finally releasing his lip and noting that a couple of unfortunate girls have paired off with his friends. “You’re a popular girl. That’s what I get for going after the best in the house, right?”

You gave him a polite smile and fumbled with your hands which were still in your lap as your eyes darted in between your coworkers. You’d never gone for flattery but usually you’d at least brush him off with a laugh. Instead, he sensed tension and this wasn’t the first time.

He removed his arms from behind the booth, positioning his clasped hands into the lap of his spread legs. He wasn’t even sure why he’d done it just that he was compelled to do it. 

“So, Nish–” 

“By the way–”

You both spoke, interrupting one another. You giggled, so precious, then offered him the floor. Nishiki searched your face before leaning in, you smelled amazing. Familiar. He knew that he’d smelled this scent before but this wasn’t what you typically smelled like. At least, he didn’t remember you smelling like this the other night. He should have remembered. When did you change perfumes? Wait, was this the one he’d gotten you and if so, why did it smell better now than when he smelled it at the store? 

“Nishikiyama-san?” you said, when he continued to subtly hover over to you saying nothing. “Are you okay?” 

Shit. He needed to get himself together. He was better than this.

“Sorry, I just noticed that you…” he mumbled, rubbing the tip of his nose as he realized he was at risk of losing his ‘flying under the radar’ game with a comment like this. “smell different.”

He watched you beam as you tucked your chin into your shoulder, bringing your manicured fingers to your chest, “You noticed! I didn’t think you would.”

“And why wouldn’t I?” he asked, folding his arms across his own chest playfully. You were the only damn girl in the place he paid any attention to. He’d notice if you plucked/waxed your eyebrows, if you dyed your hair or even if the color painted on your fucking toes was different since he’d last saw you.

You were his favorite.

You teased your hair, eyes dancing between his, “I don’t know. Most guys give us gifts and don’t remember that they’ve given them to us. Some people give gifts just to win favor or out of feelings of obligation– Or shut certain people up.”

Your voice lowered, and you rocked yourself in his direction to whisper that last part. He laughed. He usually hated workplace gossip when he went to these places but he’d listen to you tell him who was getting new tatami mats for their house if that’s what you had on your chest that day. 

Speaking of chests, it wasn’t lost on him that your neckline was sort of plunging. You’d had some of the most gorgeous skin that he’d ever seen, amongst other things– except, he’s not supposed to be seeing it. If he’d been playing this properly, you had no inkling that he was even into you. There’d be no reason for you to suspect that the reason that the sweat beading around his hairline had likely come from the stress of avoiding any undue glances at the valley of your breasts and not the heat of the building.

“You think I don’t notice things, huh?”

He lost. 

He snuck a peek but it was perfect– as were you, by the way. 

“I got you that necklace, didn’t I?” he asked rhetorically, eyeing the necklace and absolutely nothing else. “Let’s see…”

You hid your folded hands in your lap once again and he reached delicately for the decorated forearm.

“That bracelet….”

You gasped dramatically.

“C’mon, I point that out every time you wear it…” he said, attempting to fight off the sheepish feeling that had been creeping up on him. “The perfume is new, though.”

“That’s because I wore it for the first time just for you tonight.”

His heart skipped a couple of beats and his ears rang. He had to look away. He didn’t really care where his gaze fell but he wanted to make sure he appeared as disinterested as possible. Fuck. The room was spinning, though. He scanned his friends who had long since forgotten his existence just as he’d forgotten theirs. He half rolled his head to crack his neck then stretched his arms back out onto the booth as he called to his friends.

“Miura, Takagi. We’ve been sitting here a while.” he said. “I say we order something.”

“You're paying right, Nishikiyama?” Miura laughed then tapped his hostess with his elbow. “Sweetheart, bring me the most expensive shit you got!”

When he looked at you, you went into your default, robotic menu presentation. He hated doing what he’d just done but he was never sure what to make of the things you said. He was sure you said sweet things like that to any man that came in and gave you gifts. You weren’t the only one he’d given a gift to either but you were the only one that made him feel things when he saw them again– the only one he put thought into while shopping for.

He lowered the menu in your hands and smiled, “You know what I like. Take care of me, yeah?”

You nodded, then turned to raise your hand to call over a server. 

Nishiki pulled open the pocket of his maroon jacket to retrieve his pack of cigarettes and lighter then watched as you placed his usual order. He should’ve waited to let you light it for him but he’d gone into a trance. Even when doing something as simple as asking for liquor and greasy food, you looked like a divine being. Simply otherworldly. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off and had been off for some time now.

He blew out a puff of smoke that obscured his view of your side profile and once you were facing him again, it cleared and he could see it clear as day. 

There was a crack in your transcendence. 

What were you in need of?

How could he relieve you?

—

The usual 90 minute session plus extra hour extension that Nishiki tended to get with you flew by as it always did. His friends had left 30 minutes earlier- Miura, to get back to the wife and kids and Takagi to not risk cutting it close for the last train of the evening. So, there was no longer any need for the other two hostesses that accompanied you during the session. That just left him to spend the remainder of the time alone with you but he had no complaints about that.

He contemplated all evening when or even if, he should bring it up especially since he wasn’t certain at the time. Now that there was no one left but the two of you, it was clear as day. When your coworkers were there, you seemed quite anxious. You seemed to go into a quiet panic when he’d say certain things to you, too– which were never bad but if he had to wager, you must have been worried about them being taken out of context. Now that the girls were gone, you seemed calmer albeit still a bit tense.

He couldn’t just leave it alone.

He wasn’t sure what was going on but he suspected this place had much to do with it. He’d whisk you away if he could, even if only for one night.

“Say,” he said, placing his empty, sweating glass onto the table of chaos. “Where do you take up after hours anyway?”

Your confused expression was one of your cutest ones but he was sure his question was quite clear. You could fool anyone else but he wouldn’t let you try it with him.

“You’ve told me about your hobbies and stuff but you’ve never really told me what you like to do after work. How do you unwind?”

“Uh…” you trailed off and nothing else followed. 

You shared a lot about yourself but there tended to be many things that you seemed to prefer to keep private. He wanted to know as much as there was to know about you. He wished that you would become an open book and show him all of your pages, even the unrefined, ripped and scratched out ones that you hid from everyone else. 

“Don’t tell me you go home and do nothing?” he teased. “You know, your coworkers go out to hit the bars and clubs right after their shifts are done.”

You stared at him in silence for a moment too long then muttered, “Of course you would know.” as you looked away.

Something in that expression worried him. This time, he couldn’t even hide it if he wanted to. He felt his brows twitch together as he turned toward you on the banquette, resting his forearms on his knees. What the fuck has he done now?

“What do you mean?”

You shrugged, rolling your fingers over your thumb appearing indifferent. “I’ve heard about you…”

Oh. That. He could almost laugh but he didn’t.

He had been your regular for a year and 4 months, occasional client a couple times before that and this is only now coming up? It made his lips curl, his ears perk and his mouth salivate. What was it to you anyway? 

What, did you want to know if the rumors were true too?

“Yeah?” he tried his best to contain his smile and so, he licked his lips instead. “And? Tell me… What am I famous for?”

He wanted so badly to tease you for the way your eyes popped then averted. He could feel the heat rising from you just from where he sat. Anywhere else, he might’ve given you a really hard time. But you were working, after all and he wasn’t sure if you realized it but, you two seemingly had an audience of employees pretending to be busy.

“The girls say that you’ve invited them out to hook up and never call them back or something.”

Or something, but something told him you knew the whole story. Cute.

“That’s the scoop, huh? So, I’m a hostess hopper, then?” He tightened his lips as he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Alright, well. Do you want the truth or a lie?”

You scrunched your nose up at him, “I don't care to know your business but if I did, obviously I’d want the truth. What kind of question is that?”

His eyes scanned the room, noting your coworkers staring not-so-subtly as he rubbed his back against the teal seating, “I did recognize at least two girls here that I’ve been with before.”

“‘At least’?”

He nodded, tilting his head as he looked at you with a tired expression. “The thing is though, I didn’t realize they worked here until after it happened. It’s not as if I found them here and asked them out– They just so happened to be where I was. We talked. One thing lead to another–”

You waved a dismissive hand at him, letting him know that he was giving more information than you needed and wanted. “I think I get the jist. I know how hook-ups work, Nishikiyama-san.”

Nishiki straightened his posture and looked you square in the eye. “Just know that I never met them here and invited them out anywhere.”

“You know, Nishikiyama-san, I’m not sure that I really care all that much…” you said scratching your temple. “I’m not even sure why you’re telling me this.”

He had a buzz that helped him gather the confidence to do what he was about to do but he could feel it leaving him as soon his heart began to pound against his chest again.

“Because I want you to understand the difference when I tell you that I won’t pressure you, but if you’re looking for a change of pace once you’re done for the night…” he began, reaching into his wallet to retrieve a business card with an address, number and someone else’s name on it. “I recommend this bar. It’s run by a friend of mine. It’s a really nice place to unwind– never gets crowded. I’ll be headed there some time after this.”

He handed you the card and when you grabbed the other end of it, he continued to hold his end as he scanned your face. “This is what it looks like when I actually invite someone out.”

“Um,” you started. “I’m not promising that I’ll be there but–”

You’re nervous and you’re questioning his intentions. He can see it in your eyes.

“Excuse me sir but your session extension has expired.” a server interrupted but Nishiki ignored him. This was far more important.

“You’ll think about it?” he asked, finally releasing the card with a hopeful smile.

You smiled one final time before standing up out of your seat to do your session closing. “I’ll think about it.”

He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants and nodded. “That’s all a guy could hope for.”

Part 2

Please do not reupload/repost/rewrite but reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated. Thank you for reading!

[heronchildlove]

Hey! Can I request a fic where one of James and Matthew's friends walk in on them kissing/making out? I think it would simply be hilarious 😂 love your work ❤️

Hiii, I LOVED this idea! xD I loved it so much I couldn't decide which friend to use, so I decided to write my first "5+1" fic. Hope you like it!

~~**~~

In hindsight, their club room was probably not the best place for it, but with Thomas out on patrol and Kit glued to his main lab at the Consul's house, a sudden stretch of free time alone and a perfectly good bed in the adjoining room, they simply couldn't resist.

Matthew's coat and shirt were on the floor and he was halfway through the buttons on James's shirt when it happened. It was hard to hear anything else over the sounds of kisses and heavy breathing, but a sudden voice in the room was pretty hard to miss.

"Oh, apologies, I thought no one was here."

The sudden scare made they jump so high it was a wonder neither of them fell off the bed, but it did cause their teeth to clash and made them both groan in pain.

When Matthew caught his bearings, Kit was already kneeling on a corner of the room, rummaging through some boxes.

"Kit, what are you doing here?"

"Don't mind me, I ran out of willow sap and remembered I had some more here somewhere. I'll be gone in a jiffy."

"It's kinda hard not to mind you at the moment," James said, still covering his hurt mouth, but Kit either didn't hear him or paid him no mind.

"I swear it was somewhere around here."

James and Matthew shared a look and gave up in one deep sigh.

"What is it you are looking for, again?" Matthew asked, rolling out of bed. "We'll help you."

~**~ They hadn't meant to start anything in the training room, but, well, kisses were always a good way to motivate Matthew to actually finish the whole set of exercises; and when Matthew managed to cleverly pin James to the floor while they sparred, the only acceptable payback was for him to use his legs to pin Matthew even closer.

The light kisses among laughter grew deeper, hands tangling in clothes and hair. Matthew bit down on James's bottom lip and he gasped, both forgetting everything that weren't each other and that moment.

"Bloody hell!"

Their heads turned in sync to see Alastair covering his eyes and Thomas shaking his head at them from the training room entrance.

"Come on, guys, again?" He asked, almost drowned by Alastair bemoaning "My eyes! My eyes!"

Matthew waved his hand dismissively at him. "What's the problem? Have you never seen a kiss before? Tom, you should show him sometime."

Alastair glared daggers at him.

"Just because I don't want to see you sucking each other's faces off in the training room, doesn't mean I don't know how to kiss."

"Well, and I don't want to see y-" His retort was cut in half as James covered his mouth with his hand, trading looks with Thomas. They were always worried that Matthew and Alastair's newly-found friendly banter would revert to un-friendly banter if left unattended.

"Sorry, we got carried away. We'll be leaving now, there was a book I needed to check at the library anyway. Have a nice training."

He pulled Matthew to his feet and out of the training room before he could say anything else, but not before him and Alastair had a chance to stick their tongues out at each other one last time.

Some things never changed.

~**~

It was not surprising that it happened at the library; they spent a great deal of their time in the library, it was bound that on occasion that time was spent on things other than reading.

Besides, they were both still high on the feelings brought by their interrupted rendez-vous at the training room. So rather than searching for his intended book, James dragged Matthew all the way to one of the shelves on the deeper end of the library, pushed him against it, and kissed him again.

Matthew moaned, never one to complain about more kisses, and pulled James even closer, relishing in the heat and friction between their bodies. James' bottom lip was still red from the earlier bite so he took his payback by lowering his head and starting to bite and suck a pretty mark right over Matthew's shirt collar.

"Cahem." The sound of someone clearing their throats sent James back so fast he hit his back on the opposing shelf. He recognised that voice.

"Sorry to interrupt your... Joyous merry-making." Lucie sounded simultaneously extremely amused and not the least bit sorry. "But Matthew's left elbow is blocking precisely the way to the book I needed."

Matthew rushed out of the way, but James dusted himself, clutching at his dignity. "Aren't proper ladies supposed to not snoop and stare?"

Lucie lifted an eyebrow.

"Do you really want to lecture me over what's proper, Jamie? Besides, you should be thanking me. Mama wanted to come herself, but I offered to come get the book for her, as the dutiful daughter I am."

The mention of their mother and the close-call dampened any fighting spirit James still had.

"Well... Next time, just make up an excuse why you couldn't get the book," he said, already walking around her.

"Next time? How often do you and Matthew sneak around the library, anyway?"

He ignored her and hurried away to go find Matthew.

~**~

Even without drinking, Matthew still enjoyed visiting the Ruelle from time to time. He liked the freedom, the music and poetry, he liked meeting like-minded people and talking about his feelings with others that wouldn't judge or condemn.

He also greatly enjoyed that they had multiple, private rooms.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder seemed to also work with other things, desperation fuelling their movements until next thing Matthew knew he was sitting on a table with James between his legs and both their torsos bare. He could have wept with joy when he finally managed to unbuckle James' belt, but...

"Oh, bloody hell."

The expression and voice sent spidery goosebumps crawling up Matthew's back and he dropped his head to James' shoulder, mentally cursing Angel and Hell and Earth before looking up to glare daggers at his brother.

"Charles, what in the name of the bloody Angel are you even doing here?"

Charles puffed up, trying to look as authoritative as possible while looking at every corner of the room except the two of them.

"I have a diplomatic meeting with Hypatia Vex."

"Does this look like Hypatia's office to you?"

"I was directed here by one of the club members."

"Who were obviously trying to mess with both of us. What are you still doing there? Get out!"

"Actually, I am preferring to conduct my businesses from this room lately. It's less... restrictive." Hypatia's voice sounded from behind Charles. A folded fan over her lips did nothing to hide her amused smirk. "You two are welcome to stay and provide suitable ambient noise."

Matthew and Charles' equally disgruntled faces for once betrayed they were brothers.

The boys hurried to get out of the room, with Matthew only stopping briefly to gather their discarded clothes and make a slight bow to Hypatia before disappearing down the hallway.

~**~

Matthew's flat was such an obvious answer they could have kicked themselves for not thinking of it sooner, even if Matthew spent so little time there now it tended to slip even his mind most of the time.

Hardly had he turned the key on the lock when their lips met, legs tangling in an off-beat waltz that ended in an ungraceful fall to the fluffy and warm rug on Matthew's living room. James braced Matthew's fall, but, even out of breath, the last thing he would mind at the moment was the feeling of Matthew's full weight on top of him.

Hands roamed and caressed haphazardly. They had all the time in the world but no time at all. Perhaps later there would be subtleties and niceties, but for now...

"You know, you'll get carpet burn if you keep doing that there."

They should probably be used to it by now, but the idea of being interrupted even there was so improbable it made them jump again as if it was that first time back at the club. They rolled over in disbelief, no clothes even off yet, and stared in shock at Anna's face over the couch.

"How in Edom-" James started, at the same time Matthew asked:

"What are you doing here?"

Anna only raised an eyebrow at them.

"You gave me the spare key and asked me to come take Oscar out for his night walk because you would be out late and your neighbour was busy. Speaking of which."

She let go of Oscar's leash, and the golden retriever - having picked up on Matthew's scent - came running and jumped on top of his owner, wagging his tail and licking Matthew's and James' faces where he could reach them.

"We took quite a long walk, it's not my fault you boys have bad timing. Good night."

Task accomplished, she turned around and left, but with Oscar zooming around them, Matthew and James just exchanged a look and gave up.

~**~

"Come on, Jamie, it's almost time!"

"I'm right behind you."

They both emerged from the door on the roof of the Institute with plenty of time to spare, but it always made James chuckles to see how giddy Matthew got with these things.

Just as they had done on the night before their parabatai ceremony - and then countless nights after that - they laid together on the roof to watch the shooting stars.

The sky wasn't as clear as in Idris, but Matthew never minded it as long as there were no clouds and he had James with him. When the first line crossed the sky, he reached out and took James' hand.

"I'll never get tired of this."

"It's beautiful", James agreed, eyes fixed on Matthew.

"At least look at the sky before you say that, silly."

"You know your happy face is more beautiful to me than all the stars in the sky."

It wasn't always James got to render Matthew speechless, so he relished the small victory, firmly holding Matthew's hand when he tried to pull it away to cover his red face, but all it got was Matthew using his other hand for that.

"Ahh, now you ruined my view."

"I already told you to look at the stars for that."

"No, I don't think I will."

James rolled over until he was on top of Matthew, hovering over him until he lowered his hand.

"Someday it's going to get through your head that you are the most precious thing in the world to me."

"I'm... Working on it."

"Here, let me help."

They kissed until they were the only thing on each other's worlds, and that night - like many nights before - they made love under the stars.

~~**~~

Hope you guys liked it! And if you are wondering about Cordelia, you can consider this kiss drabble as your + 1 ending ;)

[bloodiedsaffron]

if you can't tell... my favorite flower is a sunflower. and Bernard Dowd is just the embodiment of that flower...

[mother-ofthe-universedraws]

So there’s this new fanfic I read that’s a FrankenStan story called “I’m not Victor Frankenstein” and I’ve been utterly obsessed with it since it came out lol

[tyranno-solei-rex]

i love love love headcanoning George Newman from UHF as having undiagnosed ADHD but like. he's a white male with hyperactive symptoms, he was 100% diagnosed by like, age 6. schoolteachers and psychologists looooooove diagnosing little white boys with external symptoms with adhd.

[sprnklersplashes]

but daddy I love him is nbr-verse jdronica had ttpd come out around then send tweet

[dekupalace]

it's startiiiing...heheheh

[onmyo-jin]

iron triangle in egyptology class

[Fun fact that I want to explain to Lyx, who has not seen any dmbj except the heihua movie: none of these guys are archaeologists or historians of any kind; the only one with a degree (as far as we know) is Wu Xie, who studied architecture. I imagine these are evening classes they're taking as a hobby, finding out more things about different tombs around the world... that's what AUs are for, aren't they?]

"-- AND they're teaching us to translate using Budge! Of all people! The man's been dead for near a century and wrong for even longer, why can't they write something more decent!!" Wu Xie exclaimed, waving an old book around in a way that couldn't possibly be good for the spine.

"Sshhh Tianzhen, they'll kick us out of the library if you keep going like that," Pangzi hissed, though a quick look around told them their section of the library was deserted. Some pulling and prodding later, and Wu Xie finally sat back down in his seat--

-- only to jump right back up and start ranting again: "That's where the adverbial sedjem-en-ef with a cleft subject should go! Aargh, can't they get anything right??"

"Tianzhen! You're the one who chose the optional language course, you did this to yourself."

"I knoww..." Wu Xie flopped down in his chair, and slumped forward face first onto his notes. "That's why its so terrible."

A sigh that seemed to come from his very toes fluttered across his notes, and Pangzi turned to his own book-- just history for him, thanks, no ridiculous language juggling for Pang-ye. History, and some shiny treasures to look at. A man should know his own strengths.

"Xiaoge~," Wu Xie seemed determined not to focus on his work. Pangzi rolled his eyes at his book. "Xiaoge, what are you reading?"

Silently Xiaoge slid his book over to Wu Xie, who looked at it, and then remained quiet for a very long time.

"I studied architecture in Germany before, but this German... I can barely read it! How old is this book?"

Xiaoge answered without looking at the publication date on the first page: "1971."

"'71?? Hasn't someone taken the time to print a new version of this??" Wu Xie exclaimed again, and was hushed again by Pangzi. At least this time he sat down without urging.

"Whose brilliant idea was this again?"

Xiaoge shook his head in response.

"But why?" Wu Xie sounded plaintive. Clearly he was starting to regret his own idea of 'fun evening classes'

"They were very thorough, so no one wants to rewrite it," Xiaoge said, and Wu Xie's head connected with the desk with a loud thud.

~

Send me an ask with a pairing and an AU and I'll write you a ficlet!

[danibee33]

the plot: two characters who can’t stand each other and make it their own personal mission to make the other’s life as hard as possible.

me: this is a love story.

[jadesarerocks]

Me when reminded that Zora died when she was 4*

*she’s my original character and her death was a conscious decision

[bookwyrminspiration]

editing a dex + the triplets fic to post sometime this weekend and I?? made a wings au reference??? oh my god??

[useless-moss]

Getting back into my shenanigans and a 'Dagur working through prison trauma w/ Hiccup' fic reminded me of an old angsty idea @reallyprofoundkryptonite and I had for the Kin All the Same AU. Also nutmeg idea inspired by that one @evilwriter37 Heather fic. (I'm almost certain it was one of their fics at least-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TW: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Referenced Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Rape, Rape Aftermath, Implied Pregnancy and Abortion

Characters: Original Trans Male Character (Magnus), Viggo, Krogan, Dagur. Other characters mentioned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last few weeks have been... Hell, to put it lightly. The panic of Magnus' initial disappearance, followed by the anger and fear of learning he'd been taken by Grimmel, and then the fight to get him back. A fight that was doomed to be a bloodbath from the second the hunter dared lay his hands on Magnus. For rather obvious reasons, in retrospect. No sane person, or person even vaguely aware of the consequences, would reasonably try. And for good reason.

Viggo, Dagur, and Krogan saw Magnus as their own. They'd worked together to raise the boy, and they didn't tolerate their son so much as being insulted. Dagur has thrown men overboard for challenging what Magnus says in regards to the dragons he handled. He's struck a few idiots with an axe for suggesting the boy be used as 'stress relief' during some particularly rough weeks at sea. Krogan has outright killed a few men, his own flyers and Viggo's hunters alike, for similar reasons. One poor bastard thought it would be funny to grab the boys chest once. There wasn't enough left of him to even throw to the fishes, and Krogan's clothes were soaked in so much blood you'd believe they had always been that red. Viggo, ever the voice of reason (about 90% of the time at least), was less violent. But he's still fired men on the spot for making the wrong comment, even jokingly, about Magnus.

The battle, the raid of Grimmel's camp, had been a gory mess. A vague plan of action, but endless violence otherwise. Men had been ripped apart like paper or gutted like fish. Broken bones, charred bodies. Even Hiccup refused to hold back, letting the dragons fight however they thought best. Letting the dragons, for a few moments at least, sink back into their wild nature. Some men had bites taken out of them, courtesy of Krogan and Hookfang. Grimmel himself had barely escaped, and even when he had he'd been one arm and almost an entire camp short. Those that survived the attack would be permanently scarred. Permanently mutilated, and carrying the memory of violence they've probably never even imagined before.

Magnus wasn't in good condition, physically or mentally. He was blind in one eye now, a fact that made both Viggo and Krogan's hearts ache. They both knew what that was like, of course. The scales around his left eye that created a birthmark-like appearance, that marked Magnus as having Lycanwing blood like Krogan did, had also been flayed off. Cut and pulled. Separated from skin and muscle in a manner that was grotesque, yet neat. Showing Grimmel had drawn out the process. Broken bones that had begun healing wrong and needed to be painfully readjusted. Dehydration. The list seemed extensive, yet far too short, considering this was Grimmel who did it.

"Do you need anything else?" The voice is soft and smooth. Very characteristic of Viggo, but lacking the usual edge it carried. There's a pause. A moment of silent consideration, then a shuddering breath.

"Nutmeg. A large dose." The answer is straightforward, like Magnus has been thinking about it for a while now. Which, in retrospect, he probably has. He'd picked up a fair bit of Viggo's planning ahead habit over the years. And, of course, being the resident healer of the hunter's gave him plenty of knowledge.

The younger ones in the room, helping monitor and tend to Magnus's injuries and mental state, don't understand the implications. But Viggo does. It makes him feel nauseous and enraged all at once. It makes him feel guilty as well.

"... Grimmel..?" The question is asked by Krogan this time, in a clipped manner. Like the dark skinned man is just barely holding himself back from screaming and punching a wall in a mix of grief and rage. A simple nod is the answer, and then Krogan is storming out. Ryker follows. Viggo swallows the lump forming in his throat, and nods to Hiccup and Fishlegs. A silent gesture for them to go get what Magnus requested. Dagur and Viggo stick with the boy. Until Krogan's yelling grows audible, at least, and then Viggo leaves to try and help his brother calm the man.

Dagur refuses to leave the boys' side. He sticks by Magnus like a tick to a dog, fingers carding through reddish brown hair. They sit mostly in silence. There isn't much to say. No amount of comforting words or promises seemed to be enough. No vows for revenge felt right. The thought of telling the boy about his time in prison doesn't seem right at the moment either, and Dagur highly doubts Magnus wants to hear how his adoptive father had gone through a similar thing in the first place. It would likely hurt the boy more than anything else.

Krogan and Viggo returned at some point. Ryker left to go make some food and to give the immediate family some time. It's been weeks since they've all been together, after all. So they're given time to just be there for each other. Krogan, the man was surprisingly cuddly when he trusted someone, kept Magnus up against his side in a protective embrace. Dagur crowded the boys' other side, resting his head on Magnus's shoulder. Viggo sits next to Krogan, fingers lightly interlocked with the boys own as a reminder that he's here as well.

And when the bleeding starts, when it's clear Magnus needs his dad's more than anything else right now, they stay. They wouldn't dare leave, no matter how much the evidence of the horror their son experienced hurt. Their pain is miniscule in comparison.

[kdsburneraccount]

Screenshots from my wips that make me question my life decisions:

Edit: added some more bc I remembered I had some weird ones

What was I cooking

[cuteniarose]

since ming-hua/ghazan have 2 kids... what abt zaheer + pli??

(firebender/combustionbender and/or nonbender -> airbender?)

I was gonna answer this earlier but the lack of sleep reared its head 😅 I took a nap and in the meantime received permission to talk about it, though just in case I will still try to keep it brief. A P’heer child does exist in a few of our verses (we aren't lying when we call it the MULTIverse of madness, I can name at least 7 different AUs off the top of my head and that's not counting the variants where only small changes are made. If we ever made a comprehensive list it'd probably be longer than the list of our OCs and that one’s currently up to 31)

Anyway, her name is Nazra, born in about 153 AG if I remember my timeline right, and she’s a combustionbender. But despite being the same height as her mom, possessing easily the deadliest ability imaginable and generally looking rather intimidating, she’s an impossibly awkward nerd who’d rather sit around and read Air Nomad philosophy like her dad all day. Though she does take after her mom in the romantic sense, having a soft spot for airbenders, while simultaneously doing it better because she’s the definition of a disaster lesbian. She’s quiet, a bit anxious and really sheltered, but she does have a feisty streak to her in that she easily calls people (read: her sister/s) out on their bullshit if they annoy her, and isn’t afraid to use her bending to protect those she loves

The reason I’m not quite sure of the extent as to which I’m allowed to talk about her is because she’s not my OC and neither is she Kat’s. She was created for the fic Empty and Become Wind by Esaleyon, a Red Lotus Korra AU which Kat used to beta read for and which we use as basis for the Ultimate AU I described in my response to the Lien-Hua ask. But as far as I know, the author quit writing/the fandom and as I said above, Kat and I took Nazra in, so to speak. But she features in only a small handful of our AUs (currently only 3 come to mind, one of them ironically being the complete polar opposite to the other two in terms of tone and how dark the storyline is) so we don’t speak of her that often. She is still very dear to my heart, has been since 2020, and in the AUs she features in I consider her a sister to Suiren and Midori

If you’re curious, a few years ago Nina (@silima, who single-handedly fed the entire Red Lotus fandom with amazing art back in 2020-2022 or so) drew her, thus creating the design that I base my own sketches off of, so everyone say thank you Nina :)

[misslisamiray]

Ao3 link for Chapter 9!

Time to see how things are going for Summer and Space Beth, since we haven't checked on them in a while.

Also, the previous chapter left off with Jerry about to explain his ✨️brilliant✨️ plan to Rick, and Rick wondering what the hell being more knowledgeable than Morty is about Sailor Moon has to do with anything. So this chapter also features the outcome of... that. 😅

Enjoy!