#the realization everything he thought was good and normal is actually deeply harmful

[heister-shmeister]

dont get me started on the slow, gradual deprogramming of russia-typical bigotry sokol has to go through

hes got toxic masculinity and internalized homophobia out the ass dont get me staaaaaarted

[thekat-alystreview]

Movie Review - The Beekeeper

If you’ve ever thought to yourself, “What if John Wick had even less subtle symbolism, more bee puns, and a protagonist whose defining trait is being an unstoppable force of nature with no real struggle?”—then, boy, do I have the movie for you.

The Beekeeper doesn’t just take inspiration from John Wick; it lifts entire structural elements from it but without the same care in execution. On the surface, the setup seems familiar: a quiet but deadly man living in isolation is pulled back into a world of violence when someone he cares about is harmed. Except where John Wick used this premise to create an emotionally charged, tightly paced revenge thriller, The Beekeeper turns it into a clumsy, over-the-top action flick that mistakes exposition dumps and bee-related metaphors for depth.

A Familiar Premise, Done Worse

In John Wick, the death of the dog wasn’t just a cheap emotional trigger; it was a symbol of Wick’s last tie to his late wife and a representation of his attempt at a normal life. When it was taken from him, it justified his descent back into violence, making every action scene feel like an extension of his grief and rage. The Beekeeper, on the other hand, replaces this with an elderly woman who lets the protagonist, Adam Clay (Jason Statham), live in her shed. She gets scammed, loses everything, and kills herself. The emotional weight of this is almost entirely absent because the film barely establishes their relationship before using her death as nothing more than an excuse for Clay to start killing people. There’s no real exploration of grief, no sense that this loss is deeply personal to him—it just happens to set off the plot.

The Hollow Imitation of a Secret Society

One of John Wick’s greatest strengths is the Continental, a meticulously crafted criminal underworld with its own rules, codes, and consequences. It’s a world that feels lived-in, with a history that extends beyond the main character. The Beekeeper desperately wants to have something similar, introducing a vague, secret organization of former operatives called Beekeepers (because symbolism), but it never does anything interesting with the concept. The movie constantly reminds you that being a Beekeeper is a big deal, but never actually defines what that means outside of “super soldier who is really good at killing people.” The title is treated like an all-powerful badge of intimidation, to the point that a high-ranking government official has an "oh shit" moment just from hearing it—again, mirroring the John Wick scene where Viggo Tarasov realizes his son messed with the Baba Yaga. Except here, there’s no real sense of world-building or weight behind it; it’s just a cheap attempt to make Clay seem more intimidating without actually developing his character.

Action Without Stakes

Where John Wick built tension by making its protagonist struggle, get hurt, and earn his victories, The Beekeeper takes the opposite approach: Clay is never in any real danger. He moves through every fight like an unkillable machine, mowing down enemies without so much as a scratch. There’s no desperation, no sense that he has to push himself beyond his limits—he’s just an unstoppable killing force from start to finish. This removes any sense of stakes or investment in the action sequences. The few times the film tries to throw in a unique kill, like using a rope trap to crush people or stapling a guy in the face for information, it’s more laughable than impressive.

Even the film’s attempts at big, explosive action set pieces feel lazy. At one point, Clay blows up an entire building using nothing but two cans of gasoline. Not only is this wildly unrealistic (gasoline burns, it doesn’t explode), but it’s emblematic of how the movie approaches spectacle: loud, nonsensical, and completely unearned. The same goes for a later scene where he blows up a gas station with nothing but gunfire—because apparently, every action movie still thinks shooting a gas pump is a guaranteed explosion.

The FBI Subplot (AKA Runtime Padding 101)

To further stretch things out, the movie introduces an FBI subplot that exists solely to pad the runtime. One of the agents is played by Emmy Raver-Lampman (Umbrella Academy’s Alison), and much like in that show, her character is written in a way that makes her more annoying than compelling. The FBI’s involvement never feels essential to the story; they’re just there to chase after Clay in an attempt to inject some conflict, even though we all know they won’t actually stop him.

The Final Insult: The Villain Reveal

The film’s “big twist” is that the man Clay has been hunting—the one responsible for his inciting incident—is the son of the President of the United States.

Not only is this hilariously over-the-top, but the movie fumbles it in the worst way possible: by casting an actor with a British accent and making no effort to explain why the American president (played by the ever-talented Jemma Redgrave, whom, as a Doctor Who fan, I absolutely love) sounds like she just walked out of London. Either the actor couldn't do an American accent, or we're supposed to believe the U.S. elected a British president. Either way, it’s a missed opportunity for Redgrave, who is an incredibly talented actor and truly deserves to be in a better movie than this. I can’t help but think how much more she could have done with a better script, as her performance here is wasted on a film that never lets her shine.

Final Verdict

Ultimately, The Beekeeper is a perfect example of what happens when a movie copies another film’s structure without understanding why it worked. It mimics John Wick’s setup, its secret society element, its “unstoppable assassin” protagonist, and even its world reacting in fear to his reputation. But where John Wick had emotional depth, intricate world-building, and carefully crafted action, The Beekeeper just throws together disconnected set pieces, overuses bee metaphors, and expects the audience to be impressed by how invincible its protagonist is.

Would I recommend it? Only if you want to watch John Wick’s discount cousin who spends half the movie making bee puns. Otherwise, just rewatch John Wick—or even one of its many imitators that at least put in a little more effort.

[brehaaorgana]

Genuine answer to your overly hostile response!:

1. This is a fair thing for me to mention when you called him an "asshole (normal type)." The participation he had as a person with legal power to enact his prejudices is more than just being an asshole. He was a bigot who oppressed a minority ethnic group before he was put in the "Become a Terrible person or Die Nexus."

In the framing of your metaphor, he was actually a person who was already horrible BEFORE he was exposed to "the ring" or the "become a terrible person or die nexus."

He wasn't simply an asshole. He willingly used his position of privilege to oppress other people. THEN he ended up in the nexus. He explicitly believes that he was attacked by a "group of gurs" because of his harsh sentencing as a magistrate that impacted the gur community. This dude, if nothing else, fully believes his ruling as magistrate in dealing with the gur was enough to spark a whole group of people to try and murder him in response. Whatever his ruling was, it seemingly was enough to make a marginalized and oppressed group in-universe that was already unfairly treated by the law — attempt to kill him, an agent of the law.

At least, he thought that's what the people who tried to kill him thought.

So it wasn't simply that he was a bit of a cheeky asshole. He was Not a Good Person even when he had things going well for him.

2. Yes I know what a story is! I actually have talked about how much I deeply dislike the full lifting of anti-romani stereotypes from dracula into this character's storyline before. I think D&D has a really bad history of handling shit like this, and drawing on an existing and especially problematic fantasy stereotyping of Romani people within D&D, and including the harmful stereotypes and tropes that are within Dracula (like the gur being agents of Cazador is directly lifted from Dracula...) — all to make someone who had been their oppressor the playable character and ultimate focus is something I think was poorly thought out. Given the ENTIRE history of D&D.

(I think this is even more so the case given how it's fairly well known this character had some late storyline cuts or total rewrites and late stage VA recordings. I don't think they finished realizing how many harmful tropes they were still relying on even after this rewrite.)

I think that EVEN THOUGH Astarion has the ability to grow and change and be a better person — his storyline cannot be divorced from the historical and social context of D&D continuing to exoticize real life people and utilize negative stereotypes for the sake of storytelling.

I also think that his character development actually should be acknowledged as coming from a person who was a bigot who harmed people due to his bigotry BEFORE everything else happened. He wasn't simply a regular asshole.

Like before Smeagol/Gollum fell under the influence of the ring, was he a magistrate who intentionally treated an oppressed minority like garbage? Did Smeagol use his social privilege and legal power to further the marginalization of an ethnic minority because he hated them?

3. Yes I understand how character development works. I'm not arguing with you on the concept that he can be played to develop from what he used to be. You seem confused about this.

My commentary was strictly that he was more than an asshole before things went south for him. Per your argument, this would mean he underwent even greater character development at the end, because he walked in with already entrenched prejudices he enacted. I don't see what your objection is with my saying this.

4. Nowhere did I state anyone for any reason "deserves centuries of rape and torture." This is a WILD accusation to make when I ONLY said that he started PRIOR to his whole undead thing, with the power and ability to carry out his prejudices against a persecuted ethnic minority.

Nothing about me saying this implies I would excuse or justify rape and torture. This is a baffling leap for you to make!

The answer is no, no one ever deserves rape or torture. Period. For any reason. Point blank. Even if they exhibit cop behavior! Even if they're terrible people!

5. I don't believe I'm profoundly fucking dumb, no!

Thanks for asking!

idk i think what is interesting about astarion to me is the fact that you have a guy who started out an asshole (normal type) and then spent two hundred years in a very carefully and specifically crafted (by the writers of the game) Become A Terrible Person Or Die nexus. like it wasn’t just a Torment Nexus, he wasn’t just in hell, i feel like this is very important not to forget, he was in hell but it was specifically a hell designed to, over time, kill the empathy of anyone trapped in it, kill their brain’s ability to prioritize other peoples’ survival, to numb one’s conscience.

and then he gets yanked directly out of that nexus and despite that the fact that he spent, again, two hundred years in a situation that was sort of a rock tumbler for the human soul, there’s still a pebble left in there. and it’s a pebble that can be grown if placed in the right environment and provided with a support network.

so i think it becomes interesting because it really does i think force you to start thinking about the limits of free will even on as basic a level as the human personality. i think the fact that he becomes such a different character based on player choice, that his end morality is so hugely dependent on player choice, is uhhh. a big part of what the devs were going for probably.

it makes a lot of people really uncomfortable to acknowledge some bad people would be good people if literally nothing changed except they had a good support network and different circumstances. especially because it means the opposite is also true. which is even more uncomfortable.

you know that part in the beginning of fellowship of the ring where gandalf is talking about how gollum is ultimately only like that because of the ring and gandalf thinks his story is sad? astarion is kinda like if they sexualized gollum.

[scrivellc]

Could you do the “I was just really really sad” prompt? (I am an Orin was a very depressed adolescent truther)

(Hey, so these prompts are meant to be from the sender's character to me/Orin so I answered it as such, but I did also try to touch on Orin and his big, bad, feelings.)

"No shit, you're sad. You're dead," Orin replied with a grimace, dark brows pushed close together with irritation. The one thing he'd learned about resting in peace throughout this whole ordeal was that there was in in fact very little resting and scarcely any peace. At least, not in his particular corner of the void, which he suspected was not one of the nicer eternities, which was...fair enough. In the darkness other spirits would wallow and loudly lament their fates, crying for pity into the great expanse of nothing. It made Orin want to strangle them, break their damn necks, but what good would that do? They were all already dead, and his desire to do harm had waned the longer he was stuck in this place. So he'd keep his distance until they disappeared back into the inky abyss, leaving him to his brooding. But this weird gray...thing, this thing with hazy, black, spots where Orin figured its eyes should have been had had the nerve to actually speak to him! Or at him...whatever the case it didn't really matter. His whole body had bristled as it had approached, agitated more so than frightened as it invaded his patch of dark. Whatever this vaguely human shaped being was, it was hardly the worst iteration of a spirit he'd come across. He supposed he was lucky. He still looked something like himself, or he figured he did since mirrors didn't seem to cross over into this realm. When he'd reached up to touch his face it was still there, and everything seemed to be in the right place, though the deathly pallor he had seen on his hands had been enough to make him queasy. Normally, he had quite the strong stomach, but it was different when you knew it was you whose skin looked so devoid of life. Plus, not long after he'd arrived to this emptiness, rings of dried blood had appeared around certain joints and around his neck, though he'd done his best not to contemplate too deeply their meaning. It was just too creepy.

Unfortunately, his response must not have been enough because the other spirit was still just standing there. Staring at him. Well, he thought it was staring at him. The lack of eyes was making things pretty difficult. "Look, I don't know what you want from me. You want comfort or something? Sorry, uh...you, but comfort was never something I was good at, and I don't think I'm gonna start now." Still it stood there. Staring even as he took a step back, wanting to put a little more distance between them, though he didn't take his eyes off it. "Jeez, you're persistent. So you said you...'was' sad? Like, past tense? You trying to tell me why you died or something? Got so sad you died?" Orin crudely gestured like he was pulling a noose tight, even going so far as to stick out his tongue. But not even that got any real response. "I mean, I guess I get it, but who isn't sad? Everyone's sad, kid. You're just born that way, and your parents don't help. You know, that's just being human. You're sad, and then you get older, and you get angry. You realize all the things that made you sad, well...you're big enough and mad enough to fight 'em, so you do." He clenched his hands into fists, raising them up as if about to throw a punch. "So it goes...sad enough to want to die, mad enough to want to hurt, angry enough that you hurt everyone around you..." Orin was surprised by how much he kept talking, but...well, he couldn't tell how long it had been since he talked to someone. Or something? Time passed so strangely here, as far as he knew he could have been dead for years. What way was there to mark the passage of time. Maybe that's the reason he couldn't make himself stop. "And after you're angry...after you're angry you...I don't really know. Guess I never got to the part where you stop being angry...or when you stop being sad. Figures I'd be sad for eternity. It fucking figures." Orin sighed, rubbing the back of his back of his neck, feeling the dried blood beneath his fingertips. "Sorry...I don't got any sorta satisfying story to tell. Most people's lives aren't satisfying...I just had sorta hoped after everything mine would be. That success and distance would be enough to make me happy, but I guess I didn't get far enough."

[yanderederee]

Rest,

tw: mild self harm. Comfort post tho.

~~

Baji gave you a pitiful look as tears streamed down your face. Stone solid and eyebrows furrowed. Silent.

“You’re overwhelming yourself-” he started in, but so over hearing the same things over and over again, you practically scream back. “No shit! I can’t catch a break! I literally have nothing to show for all my hard work I’ve done! The phones won’t stop ringing! I hear them in my sleep, Kei!!” You cried, shaking from the anger and stress that’s build up all day.

“I’m literally working my ass off and there’s no quantifiable measure of it!” You cried into your fists, accidentally allowing your muscles to take over when one of those fists came crashing down against your head.

“What the hell stop that!” Baji yelled back, going to grip at the offending fist. But now wasn’t the time. You pulled your fist away from his grip and screamed with all your pent up feelings. “It’s such bullshit! I can’t keep a solid strain of thought for longer than five fucking minutes Kei! I’m more capable than this!”

You had tried to run through your coping techniques. Deep breathing. Venting your emotions. Write them down and burn them. Cry. Running through everything you should be doing adding fuel to your demise. For your job, take applications. Render them. Data entry. Return emails. Answer phone calls. Reply to voicemails. Handle walk-ins. Everything. Everything. Everything-

Without realizing, you were hyperventilating while you curled up around yourself. Shaking and crying openly now. “It’s not that hard Kei! I’m capable! I-I can do these things! So why—“ you sobbed harder, your nails digging so deeply into your scalp, until you were pulling on the strands of hair beneath.

“It’s okay,” Baji spoke up in his deep vibrado. He pushed his thumbs into your palms, releasing the vice grip you had on your hair, assessing for any bruising you may have given yourself. “Being hard on yourself isn’t gonna make the work any easier.”

“You’re taking things at the only pace you know how. Too much too fast.” He knew you were about to retort back when your squeezed your grip around his thumbs, but before you had the chance to do that and push him away again, Baji pulled your head in and circled one arm around your neck. “Calm down first, nothin’ good ever came from solving problems in this kind of state of mind.”

The way he spoke was more order like, but it was comforting. There was no room for argument. No room for doubt or disagreement. He was right. There wasn’t anything you could say to take away what he meant. Baji pulled you in close for a hug, the compression against your body made you realize just how overworked your muscles actually were.

“They’ll hire another smart ass to take some of that work load off of ya. Don’t work on getting everything done, just what’s in front of you.” He consoled you with words you used to give him in your youth.

‘It’s okay to be there for Kazu! But beating up Chi—‘

‘You don’t know shit, shut the fuck up’

‘Oh you wanna play it like that?!’

Even if he was stronger than you, there was no way in hell he could push you around like he normally would. Even when you tackled him down to the ground and practically concussed the poor guy with you shaking him by the collar of his stupid Valhalla jacket.

‘You’re being a dick! Burning the bridge with toman ain’t gonna save anyone from anything! Tryna prove your loyalty?! Give me a break! Your acting might’ve fooled those bunch of bone heads, but you can’t fool me, idiot!’

Tears were streaming down your face at this point.

‘Stop it with these dumb back alley tactics! Would it kill you to be honest!?”

Seeing Chifuyu’s beaten up face really set you into a spiral.

‘You. Don’t. Know. Shit.’ Baji tried spitting back, only for your to yell in his face again.

‘I KNOW YOU KEI! STOP TRYING TO PLAY THE BAD GUY! I-‘

You finally stopped your assault on the poor guy.

‘I know you won’t stop trying to save everyone. That’s who you are… B’but damnit Kei..! You… don’t kill yourself in the process.. please,’

Keisuke Baji has never broke a promise with you. Not once. Not after that day.

You were too important to lose to underhand fightings.

“You’re doing enough.”

“Alright, rest” he ordered finally, pulling your entire body out from its seat across from him, and into his lap. “Take a nap. When you feel up to it, we’ll grab a bite to eat.”

“Just stay here and rest. We’ll get through it. Promise.”

[arcade-conspiracy]

Inherently Bad

Angst, Fluff

Jack Rose/Mihaly (platonic or romantic)

TW: Negative self talk, references to a controlling parent

A/N: Enjoy my venting through Jack, babes this is why I don’t write anymore : )

Jack Rose was a villain. At least that’s what he was always told he was. Anyone who knew of his mother could conclude that. The assumption that all he did was harm people wasn’t an uncommon one, and to him, it made sense why.

He tried his best to be a good person, of course. To do what he could to make things easier for the ones his mother hurt. To ease the lives of those that listened to his music, and came to see him perform. He tried to be a positive force in every way he could, but he knew that wasn’t exactly enough. Attempting to be a good person doesn’t always translate into actually being one.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that there would always claws be on his shoulder. He couldn’t get rid of the shadow looming behind him, whispering instructions in his ear. He felt like everything he did was corrupt. That all of his actions would be in her image, making him inherently evil, no matter how hard he tried to go against what she wanted. As if the blood he carried was cursed, simply because it attached him to her.

He was thinking deeply about this at the moment, unintentionally, that is. Here he was, still sitting in a room at the danceverse prince’s house, not knowing what to do next. All he’d done since arriving here was brood, barely even leaving the room that wasn’t technically his. It had been months since Nightswan was even seen last, and yet he still felt horrid. He could have ruined everyone’s lives. Being reminded of it sent a chill down his spine.

He couldn’t focus while around his friends, he was too busy making sure he didn’t hurt or offend them. Hence the isolating in this bedroom. He couldn’t have a single conversation without the urge to apologize creeping up his neck. He wanted to explain, he wanted to remind them every chance he got that he was remorseful, that he was trying to be a good person now. He couldn’t flat out tell them what he wanted to, he knew it was getting excessive, but he couldn’t act like everything was normal either.

He had already done everything but grovel at their feet in forgiveness and he still couldn’t shake this feeling of guilt. The feeling that he was doing something wrong by being around at all.

He felt dirty, tainted. Like the words he heard from his mother seeped into his brain. Like he needed to scratch dried blood off of his soul. Like the many scorching showers he’d taken in the aftermath just didn’t get him clean, as what needed scrubbing wasn’t his skin. Like his own dna was repugnant, and he couldn’t escape it if he tried.

He hurt people, badly. He helped enslave them, he ruined lives. His mothers plans tore apart danceverses, and tore apart families. Though, she didn’t get nearly as far as she had hoped, she caused irreparable damage. Peoples brains and bodies were altered, borderline destroyed, by her actions. And he helped her do it.

He should have done something about it, he thought. There’s nothing saying he couldn’t have changed anything. If he hasn’t just sat around in his own misery, maybe things would have been different. Maybe his mother would be dead, but that would mean so many others would still be alive. In the end he was simply too weak to even try.

He didn’t realize what a spiral he was in, nor did he realize he was crying, until he heard a soft knock on the door. Not done by a fist but rather a few fingers, it was obvious who was on the other end. He scrambled to get everything situated, quickly smoothing out the blanket he was previously sitting on, but not before wiping his face with it. “Coming!” Jack barked, not meaning to come off as annoyed as he did.

He shook his head to come to a bit, before opening the door. As expected, Mihaly was behind it. No one else exactly knocks the way they do. They immediately looked confused the moment they layed eyes on him, which caused Jack to pull his own confused face back. He apparently didn’t do much of a good job or drying his face, so to Mihaly, it was clear something was up.

“Is there a reason you’re hiding up in here?” They said blankly, not stepping into the room or even moving closer. Their flat tone almost sounded accusatory but Jack knew that wasn’t it. It was more urgent than anything.

“I didn’t realize I was hiding!” He joked, opening the door further to usher Mihaly in. He sat down on the bed, expecting them to sit next to him, but they just stayed sanding, still looking a bit skeptical with their hands in their shirt pocket. He just stared right back.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” They looked over him again. Jack had his shoulders up to his ears, his hands picking at his fingers rather than the normal tugging of the sequins on his suit. His lips were sealed tight together, as if he was clenching his teeth. Something was off, he was just concealing it well. At least as well as he could.

“Yeah, sorry I haven’t been out, I’ve just been feeling kinda down on myself. Trying to figure out if I’m as bad of a person as I feel, I guess” He chuckled, speaking nonchalantly. As if this was general knowledge, or workplace banter. As if Mihaly was going to just agree with him, or give him some lighthearted tips on how to improve himself.

“Jack Rose, you are not bad. Why would you think you’re bad?” They gasped, their hands removing from their pockets and glueing themselves to their sides. Their eyes went wide, filing through their brain for any reason that he would think so lowly of himself. He was such a strong individual? Why would he think like that?

“Because I hurt people, so many people.” He paused. Disregarding the fact that he was still wearing shoes, he adjusted how he was sitting, pulling a knee up to his chest. His arms clutched around it, still looking up at his friend as if he hadn’t moved at all. “I’m nothing like the rest of you, I don’t exactly deserve to be here.”

“I can’t find a single reason why you shouldn’t be here. You’re on our side, aren’t you?”

“Well yeah, but it’s not like just because I’m on the ‘good side’ that makes me good.” He shrugged, looking more defeated than anything. He gestured a hand at Mihaly, feeling the tears well up in his eyes now that he was thinking on the topic again. “You- You guys are righteous. You’re absolutely incredible. I’m not like that!”

Mihaly tried to bud in, but he just kept going, now waving his hand as he was speaking. “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen. You haven’t knowingly hurt people when you knew you- you could probably do something to stop it. The four of you are heroes, I almost perpetuated the downfall of the danceverse.”

As he tried to think of words, the waterworks fell over, as much as he tried to stop it from happening. The nails on Jacks other hand were digging into his leg so bad they’d have to leave marks. He truly felt this way about himself, that his past actions could never be forgiven. That no matter the circumstances, he must be corrupt. He let his eyes avert from them, leaning his forehead against his friend, he already felt bad for dragging them into this conversation but he kept going. “I am inherently a bad person, Mihaly. No one would forgive me for this.”

“Well, luckily I am nobody!” Mihaly joked, sending a comforting smile towards him. “You are absolutely forgiven. Not just by me, but I’m sure Brezziana and Wanderlust share the same sentiment. If Sara was here, she absolutely would agree too.” They looked determined, gently running a hand over his shoulder, closely watching for any sign the contact might not be okay.

“But why? My mother almost destroyed your home, and successfully destroyed so many others. I willingly helped her, you realize that, right?” Jack looked up at them, eyebrows knit together in confusion. He didn’t understand, he couldn’t understand. If he was in his friends position, there’s no way he could have even thought about trusting him. After everything, what does he have to offer? “Nothing can change the lives I’ve ruined,, as much as you think im a good person, I’m just not. You’ve been deceived.”

They just stared at him blankly, motioning for him to move in order for them to sit on the bed too. Mihaly looked over at him, head cocked like a dog processing instructions. Their hands clasped together, sitting in their lap.

“You have not deceived anyone. This is truly who you are, you’re not evil. Why would I lie?”

Jack sighed, letting his head hang again. “I just don’t- I can’t process why anyone would even want to be in the same room as me, let alone why you guys would be friends with me.”

Mihaly thought for a moment, adjusting the way they were sitting so their knees were under them. It made them a smidge taller, and allowed them to face his direction better. “Listen to me. Would you have done everything you did if you weren’t under the influence of Nightswan?”

He went silent.

Would he have? He had free will as it was, he could have rebelled at any moment, right. Some part of him must have liked it, if he kept it going for so long, right?. But if his mother was never in the picture, he would have never even thought about harming people the way he had. He would have been touring or writing music this whole time instead, right?

“I- I don’t know.” He admitted, staring off at the wall, intentionally avoiding looking at Mihaly. He knew what look they were going to have on their face. The same one they wear when they’re right about the culprit in Clue, or Wanderlust messes up a recipe they told him he was doing wrong. For better or worse, they knew what they were talking about most of the time, it was just difficult to believe.

“Well I for one don’t think you’d do anything you’ve done if she wasn’t your parent.” They were being as genuine as they possibly could, and hoped that Jack could feel it. They knew it wasn’t always easy to tell when things were serious if they were talking. “You have done nothing but good since I have met you.”

The boy wiped his face, trying in vain to stop himself from crying anymore. He didn’t want to look at them when he was in such a state. He knew it was fine, he knew this was just how he was feeling, but something about this entire situation felt wrong to him. Like even talking about this concern made him a bad person. He was being self aware, he thought he could fix it himself. No one else was supposed to know, because he knew it would just worry the others.

He took a shaky breath, attempting with everything in him to believe what they were saying. He tried to process it, internalize it without that shock of immediate denial running down his spine. Even as he replayed what they said in his head, it just couldn’t slip past those feathery barriers in his brain that point out every flaw he had.

“I don’t know if I can believe you right now,,” he eventually spat through grit teeth, still just staring forward, the hand not around his leg now gripping the comforter under them. He didn’t know what he was doing, being so honest about everything. It was something about Mihaly that made you trust them, even if you’ve just met. It was something so special about them, he just wished that magic wasn’t in effect in times like these. Where he wanted to share just too much information than another person should have to carry.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to right now.” They draped their arms around Jack’s shoulders. The two sat for a second until they felt a sob shake his body. It took everything in them not to shush him, but they were afraid that might be a bit much at the moment. “Just know that you are priceless. We couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

They sat in silence, while Jack cried. He eventually let himself lean into their hug, dropping his foot back to the floor. They let out a sigh of relief, happy that he was accepting the comfort. The two stayed this way for a moment, until Jack felt comfortable enough to look Mihaly in the eyes again, at least.

“Apologies for just dumping this on you.” He said, a chuckle behind his voice. He attempted to wipe his face with the edge of his sleeve, shrugging at his previous statement.

Mihaly just kept their soft expression, holding back from the lecture they could be giving. He didn’t have to apologize, he should have talked to someone sooner. “You’re cool. Do you want to come out with the others? We were thinking of getting ice cream.” They smiled.

[morsking]

so i played ai: the somnium files - nirvana initiative. here are my thoughts about it.

at its core, the game is about irreversibility, and the effort to contend with the irreversible. it’s harrowing causes having disastrous effects in a manner larger and more visceral the original somnium files did. to tie into the buddhist and hindu imagery of the game, it’s about escaping samsara, clumsily and even gruesomely struggling to be liberated from endless cycles of suffering.

like the previous game, this core theme is tied to a more personal theme of family. the original somnium files was about the importance of being surrounded by love and the consequences of neglect and deprivation from love. nirvana initiative is the same in this regard. likewise, nirvana initiative also inherits a theme of personal separation, but in a much more literal sense intertwined with the theme of family.

the original ai was about date being separated from hitomi and iris, mizuki being separated from shouko and renju, ota and mayumi being separated from each other and takero, and so’s estrangement with saito being the most egregious case of familial separation that ties into the rest. nirvana initiative takes this further and emphasizes the irreversibility of separation with how tearer being an orphan starved for affection and treated as an organ donor for a more favored child was what turned him into a serial killer. he was literally split from his own humanity in a physical manner every time pieces of him were taken to be given to the ill jin furue, projecting this suffering into his victims, who are also separated from their humanity.

the story of nirvana initiative, unlike that of somnium files however, is that of being undone. being undone by divorce, being undone by failure, being undone by loneliness, being undone by grief, and being undone by permanence in ways that cannot ever be taken back. komeji cannot take back being a terrible father and husband. shoma cannot take back his spite toward his father, and like gen he cannot take back the effects the experiments of the horadori institute had on their bodies. kizuna cannot take back that she lost her ability to walk. lien cannot take back his past as a thief, and ryuki cannot take back that he couldn’t save his twin brother. most catastrophically, amame cannot take back that she killed somezuki in revenge, just like tokiko couldn’t take back that she ruined his life and set him on a path of murder out of her own desperation. nirvana initiative is about the consequences to impossible decisions, and this is what amame’s somniums were all trying to communicate.

so we’re guided through this conflict of being harmed by irreversible decisions whether made by us or on our behalf with the desire to reach an emancipation that cannot ever be disturbed (reversed) from those consequences, and the consequences that struggle has. what the characters ultimately desire is tokiko’s moksha: the unraveling of reality that would accomplish a freedom from all suffering in the form of a freedom from all painful consequence. that is why the game’s secret ending involves tokiko escaping reality leaving the player with the choice to tell ryuki everything they know to split the characters from the suffering they endured and grant them the good lives from which they were separated.

it is supposed to be a happy outcome, but it is actually a very uncomfortable thing. precisely because we, the players, have inflicted irreversibility upon ourselves by manifesting in our consciousness the same spiritual realization that tokiko did. in this sense, kotarou uchikoshi masterfully delivered a story that is deeply resonant in the hearts of his audience. we have been separated from normality, and we will never be the same because of it.

and i must give it to him. just talking about it fucks me up like you have no clue. i’ve even tossed the smarty pants language into the shitter because that’s how hardfuckingcore it is. that’s how bad it gets me.

amame is by far the highlight of the game. it’s incredible how uchikoshi made a side character from the first game a fully-fledged, complicated, and delightful actor in the story. amame’s somniums made me feel like i was going through heaven’s feel or omori all over again, and her presence was everywhere in the game in some form or another for me.

so that’s how the game knocked my socks off. but how didn’t it get my rocks off? 

well for starters i feel like the second worst decision uchikoshi could’ve made was have date and mizuki start seeing each other as father and daughter only to immediately separate them for 6 years just to tease you with a mystery. uchikoshi snorts twists like a long line of cocaine and shoves your face into a pile of it urging you to feel the same high, almost as if wanting to be thanked for being the one responsible for taking you on a roller coaster. drugs. that’s the metaphor i’m using here. because it’s 2am and i have very limited imagination.

the absolutely worst decision though was making shouko and renju mizuki’s adoptive parents rather than her biological ones. uchikoshi’s need to make everything connected in ways you weren’t expecting works for the story’s detriment here. it’s not necessarily bad that mizuki is the result of a genetic experiment, and it’s not bad that she has an older genetic sister. i do think it’s bad that it feels as though he’s betrayed the found family angle of the original somnium files. it was compelling that renju and shouko tried their best to be good parents to the child they made together but couldn’t make it work because neither of them were actually equipped to be parents, and that mizuki was able to forge a familial bond with someone she had no blood relation with. nirvana initiative diminishes the power of that narrative. i wouldn’t go so far so to say uchikoshi spited it, i’d just say that his habits as a writer got the better of him. talk about choices that can’t be taken back lol.

this is more of a personal nitpick but i really do wish the game had done more with ryuki in the second half. in an effort to sell you the twist of the game’s timeline, i feel ryuki was unforgivably sidelined in a way that turns “oh my god, what could be happening with ryuki right now!?” to “ugh. where the fuck is ryuki. i wanna see him have a mental breakdown right now.” granted, from launch this was advertised as The Mizuki Game but weeeeeell we saw what The Mizuki Game had to offer in terms of mizuki herself. and that’s not to say she, or rather, they aren’t fun. they are. i adore them. it’s just *gestures at everything i just said in the two paragraphs above*. 

tangentially related to mizuki, i feel like kizuna and lien were probably the weakest part of nirvana initiative. it’s not that i don’t like the lady and the tramp, i just don’t like it when the lady and the tramp has bad romcom tropes all over it. comun kaibutsushidousha put it in perfect words. lien would be better if he was less lien. if he was less “22 year old man who just wouldn’t stop being a pest to a girl 4 years his junior”. which is a shame, because the post-time skip portion of lien and kizuna’s story arc is rather good. i’m a huge fan of stories where two people come closer together overcoming the burdens of their past. i just can’t get the bad taste of lien’s first impression off my mouth.

speaking of bad taste in my mouth, not a day goes by where i don’t wish uchikoshi would stop using “older men really wanna get it on with a girl half their age” as a joke. maybe it’s just a brand of humor i don’t get, but i just feel like “this sexually deviant man is so WEIRD” just isn’t a punchline to me. especially not when i already know too many women who have had uncomfortable encounters with too many entitled men.

so yeah, that’s nirvana initiative. overall a very thought-provoking experience occasionally held back by uchikoshi’s worst habits. i really am looking forward to the next somnium game and lowkey terrified at the implications of tokiko’s parting words.

in the meantime

遐ｴ繝ｬ邯ｻ繝吶ご閼ｱ繧ｻ繝ｨ繧ｳ繧ｳ繝剰劒讒句ｹｻ荳也阜

逶ｮ隕壹ａ繝ｨ隲ｸ蜷幃擠蜻ｽ繝取凾逵溽炊繝取演髢九こ 菫ｺ繝上ム繝ｬ繧ｳ蜃ｦ繝上ラ繧ｳ莉翫ワ菴墓凾繧ｭ繝溘ワ 繝ｯ繧ｫ繝ｩ繝翫う繝ｯ繧ｫ繝ｩ繝翫う繝ｯ繧ｫ繝ｩ繝翫う窶ｦ 莉ｮ��ｳ遨ｺ髢捺錐螢翫す蛛ｽ繝惹ｸ悶き繝ｩ縺九う謾ｾ繝ｲ 蜉ｩ繧ｱ縺ｦ繧ｯ繝ｬ蜉ｩ繧ｱ縺ｦ繧ｯ繝ｬ蜉ｩ繧ｱ縺ｦ繧ｯ繝ｬ窶ｦ

[labomi]

a demon’s promise | (18+)

summary: You didn't want to spend your Friday night trying to summon the king of all demons in your tiny apartment, but here you are with your best friend by your side reciting an incantation from a strange book. To your utter relief, the spell doesn't work or so you seem to think.

pairing: sukuna ryomen x f!reader

words: 4.2k

warnings: explicit sexual content, slight dubcon, smut, explicit language, choking, overstimulation, rough sex, pet names, not a particularly happy ending

notes: read on ao3 here! first sukuna piece and i don’t have much to say except aahhhhh!! i initially planned it to be more of a cute, fluffy story but obviously that didn’t happen oops. well anyways thanks for reading!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask hesitantly, watching your best friend finish drawing a pentagram on your living room floor. Kimi dusts the chalk off her fingers, admiring her work with a satisfied smile.

“Oh, come on,” she says, a little exasperated at you. “Don’t bail on me now. Aren’t you the tiniest bit excited?”

“About summoning a demon from a weird book you found in the back of a sketchy thrift shop? Yea, I’m absolutely thrilled,” you deadpan.

It was about a week ago when Kimi surprised you with her new find. The book was bound in torn leather and filled with handwritten notes about how to conjure the supernatural on ink stained, wrinkled pages. It certainly looked old, but you couldn’t help but think it was a scam. Some kid might have decided to replicate the look and feel of an ancient book, filling it with absolute nonsense that your best friend was clearing falling for. 

Unfortunately, once Kimi had gotten a hold of this book, she would not shut up about it. For the past week, you tried your best to feign interest in her new obsession as she flipped through pages, oohing and aahing at the sketches and descriptions of different types of demons. They ranged from little mischievous creatures to incubi and succubi and even a terrifying being that ate the souls of its prey.

For the most part, you think the book is absolutely absurd, but you can't ignore the tiny voice in your head that is just a little terrified about the potential existence of demons. Kimi had begged you nonstop to try one of the spells. You were hesitant and initially said no, but she kept begging you over and over again. Eventually you gave in because she was your best friend, and she was clearly excited about trying out the book with you. There is no harm in humoring her a little, right?

Kimi finishes lighting the five candles that surround the pentagram as you place a small bowl in the center.

“Alright!” Kimi says, clapping her hands. She looks at the open spell book next to her, double checking the instructions. “The only thing left is a drop of human blood.” Kimi looks at you expectantly.

You blink and point a finger at yourself. “Me?” you squeak. “But isn’t this your idea?”

“But you know how squeamish I get about pain and blood! Pretty pretty pleaassee,” your best friend begs.

You sigh. “Alright, alright. You owe me big time for this. Hand me the knife.” Kimi happily gives you the small knife that you had grabbed earlier from the kitchen. Scrunching your face, you make a tiny little cut on your index finger and squeeze one drop of blood into the bowl. You suck on your finger, hoping it would scab over quickly. “Ok, now what?”

Kimi turns the page. “Now we just have to say this incantation together. Come here.” You scoot over to sit next to your friend as she holds the book between the two of you. Together, you both recite the words scribbled down on the crumbled page.

You wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And nothing happens.

“Umm,” you break the awkward silence. “Nothing happened.”

“No, this can’t be right.” Kimi groans and starts aggressively flipping through the pages. “We followed the instructions exactly. It should have worked!”

Part of you feels relieved. You weren’t particularly thrilled about inviting the supernatural into your tiny apartment on a Friday night. Now you’re more convinced that the book really is a fake.

“What were we supposed to summon anyway?” you ask, a little curious.

Kimi frowns, still re-reading the instructions. “A creature named Sukuna Ryomen. Apparently he’s the king of all demons.”

Your mouth falls open in shock. “What the fuck, Kimi? The king? You chose to summon the king of all demons? What were you thinking? I thought we were going to summon those harmless creatures that steal people’s left socks or something like that!”

Kimi huffs. “Well, I did ask you what we should summon, but you said you didn’t care and that I should pick something. So I did!”

You rub your temples, trying to keep calm. “You’re right, you’re right. My bad. I’m sorry.” You could tell that Kimi is already quite upset that the spell didn’t work, and you were just adding fuel to the fire. “Hey! It’s ok. Let’s just take the rest of the night off. I’ll clean everything up, don’t worry about it. And listen, maybe we can try a different spell next week. Perhaps there’s not enough spiritual energy in this room or something to summon the big guy.”

Kimi perks up a little at your words. “We can try again next week? Really?”

You nod. “Promise. Take the book back to your place and choose something a little bit more tame, ok?”

Kimi giggles. “Ok, I promise too!” She grabs the book and carefully places it in her bag before getting up and heading towards the door. You follow her and give her a quick hug.

“Talk to you tomorrow,” you say.

“Yep! Good night!”

Once Kimi leaves your apartment, you let out a deep breath. You survey the mess on your living room floor with a frown. You truly love your best friend to death, but she’s just a little too adventurous for your tastes sometimes.

A sudden wave of lethargy washes over you, causing you to lean against your kitchen counter for support. You rub your eyes, struggling to keep them open as your eyelids start to feel unusually heavy. 

Weird.

It isn’t particularly late, so you are a bit surprised to feel so tired out of the blue. You figure the excitement of tonight’s activities likely got the best of you, so you decide to retire early for the night. Walking into the living room, you blow out all the candles around the pentagram before retreating into your bedroom. You will clean up everything tomorrow. No harm in letting it sit out for the night.

---

You wake up with a start. The darkness of your bedroom greets you. Groaning, you grab your phone in order to check the time but it was dead. You silently curse at yourself for forgetting to charge it before passing out. You lean back in your bed with a sigh. Normally, you sleep through the night undisturbed. You briefly wonder what had woken you up. 

Crash!

You instantly freeze and hold your breath. The noise came from the living room. It sounded like something had fallen. You try to calm your racing heart as you convince yourself that it was just one of your decorations falling off the wall. But you know you won’t be able to comfortably go back to sleep without checking, so you quietly slip out of bed and open your bedroom door. You peek into the living room, but you’re unable to make out anything clearly in the darkness. 

You fully step out of your bedroom and hit the light switch for the living room. Squinting your eyes, you try to adjust to the sudden brightness. Once your vision finally clears, you gasp. 

There’s someone in your living room.

The first thing you notice about the intruder is his tattoos. Intricate symbols mark his entire body, including his face.

The second thing you realize is that he’s completely naked.

You open your mouth to scream, but the intruder appears right in front of you within the blink of an eye and clamps his large hand over your mouth to shush you.

“Be quiet,” he growls deeply. “You can’t act so surprised. After all, you’re the one who called me here.”

You feel a chill crawl down your spine as your eyes widen in realization.

No. No. It can’t be.

Once the intruder is convinced you won’t start screaming, he removes his hand from your mouth. He stands back and takes in your appearance as you stand there numbly in your pajama shirt and shorts.

“A woman, huh.” He licks his lips. “I wasn’t expecting a woman to be the one to resurrect me, but I’m not complaining.”

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening!

You try to convince yourself that you’re still dead asleep in your bed and dreaming about this entire encounter. There is no way that damn book actually worked!

“Ryomen Sukuna,” you whisper to yourself, suddenly recalling the name of the demon you tried to summon with Kimi.

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Oh! You’ve heard of me!” He grins. “You should feel honored to be in the presence of the Great King of Demons.”

You shudder at his voice. There’s a certain aura of power, strength, and pure evil that you can feel radiating from the demon, but his appearance is still rather surprising. For the Great King of Demons, he looks rather...human. You could have easily mistaken him as a normal man who just really liked tattoos. No tail. No wings. No horns. Perhaps your view of demons was a bit outdated.

“I have to admit. I’m a little disappointed,” Sukuna says with a small frown, surveying his own body. “It seems you didn’t summon me correctly. My power is nowhere near what it should be, and it took me forever to spawn into this measly physical form. I normally have four arms and two faces.”

Your eyes bulge out of your head. Did he say four arms? And two faces?

The demon taps a finger on his chin in thought. “I did start off as a human before becoming a demon, so I guess it makes sense I’m reborn looking like a human at first.”

You silently thank your friend for messing up the ritual. If Sukuna had spawned immediately at full power, the two of you would have both been in danger. At least it’s only you in harm’s way. Kimi is safe and sound, far away from your tiny apartment.

“It’s ok,” Sukuna purrs, approaching you. “It doesn’t matter that you messed up the ritual a little. You can help me fix it now, pet.”

You stumble backwards, heart racing and body quivering in fear. He reaches out to place his hands on your shoulders, steadying you before pushing you against the wall. You instantly freeze, breath caught in your throat as you wonder what he’ll ask of you.

Sukuna lightly strokes your cheek with one hand. You want to recoil in fear and disgust, but your body remains frozen in horror.

“You haven’t noticed?” he asks. “It was your blood used in the summoning ritual. That means we are bonded.”

No. No.

Sukuna places two fingers underneath your chin and lifts them up so you look directly up into his eyes. You tremble uncontrollably as you meet his dark gaze.

“The way I regain my strength is by sucking the energy out of you. You might have noticed that you felt tired and sluggish after the ritual. That’s because the it took a lot of energy from you to give me a physical form. Don’t worry though, it’s not enough to kill you. But you are pretty weak, so it might take me awhile to regain my full strength.”

You gulp. The Great King of Demons at full strength? You know you have to prevent this from happening somehow, but your phone is dead, the book is gone, and Sukuna is not likely to let you leave his sight long enough for you to figure out a plan. Was it even possible to fight back against him? Maybe your best bet was to comply with his demands and hope he spares you.

“But there is a way to speed up the process.” He looks down at your body hungrily before leaning his head towards you until his lips hover over your left ear. “Sex,” he whispers huskily.

You stiffen slightly and try to ignore the spark that travels down your body and lights up your core.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you stammer nervously.

“I feed off your body’s energy, and everyone knows that there’s nothing more powerful than sexual energy. Sex gets your heart racing and blood pumping. It’s the perfect energy source for my complete resurrection.” Sukuna moves away from your ear and grins at your stricken face. “You are the one who summoned me here. It would be rude to not feed your guest and accommodate his needs.”

He places a thumb on your bottom lip, rubbing it back and forth. You try not to react, but your body won’t listen to you. Sukuna’s presence is overwhelming. His bare chest is practically pressed against your body. His eyes are dark with lust as he gazes at your face. His thumb continues to rub your lips which leaves you flustered. Your mind feels hazy, and your body feels unusually warm. A small, sane part of you tries to fight back. A little voice in your head reminds that this is the king of all demons. How could you fall for the literal embodiment of pure evil?

“I know you’re turned on,” Sukuna says smugly. You look away feeling absolutely mortified, but the demon grabs your head and forces you to look back at him. “Ah ah. Keep your eyes on me. No need to get embarrassed. Like I said before, I was resurrected from your blood, so we share a connection. This means I can feel your blood pumping in your own body, and I can tell exactly where it’s headed.” Sukuna drops his gaze down your body to emphasize his point. He doesn’t miss how your thighs suddenly clench together.

With a dangerous flash in his eyes, Sukuna hoists you over his shoulder and throws you on your bed. Before you could even think about saying no, Sukuna is on top of you harshly nipping and sucking at your neck. One hand is already underneath your shirt, fondling one of your breasts and playing with your hard nipple. He sucks at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck which leaves you moaning shamelessly underneath him. Any doubts or reservations immediately leave your mind. 

Your body feels like it’s on fire being this close to Sukuna. He chuckles darkly, leaving your neck and pulling out his hand from underneath your skirt. “That’s my good pet,” he purrs. “So eager just for me.” Sukuna kisses you roughly, leaving you gasping as you try to match his fervor. Eventually he leans back and admires how swollen your lips look after his harsh treatment. Your pupils are blown wide with lust. With Sukuna’s face hovering just above yours, you can’t help but admire his unique markings. Without realizing, you reach a hand out and start tracing the lines on his cheek. Sukuna stills for a moment, enjoying your tender touch. 

The moment of gentleness shatters when Sukuna rips open your shirt with his bare hands. He immediately latches onto one of your breasts with his mouth and roughly gropes the other. You grip the back of his head, digging your fingers in his short hair. He bites down a little too sharply on your nipple, causing you to yelp in slight pain. Sukuna lightly chuckles at your reaction and finally pulls away, giving your now sore breasts a break. He suddenly flips your positions so that you are now hovering over him as his back hits the bed.

You stare at his chiseled chest and can’t resist rubbing your hands up and down his prominent muscles. Sukuna observes you with an amused look as you openly admire his body. 

“You like what you see?” he smirks.

You ignore the question and begin peppering light kisses down his chest and over his abs. The demon hums, enjoying your soft touch all over his body. However, he eventually has enough of your teasing. He pushes your head down until you’re forced to look at something you’ve tried to avoid glancing at the entire night. Your heart flutters with a little nervousness as you’re greeted with Sukuna’s dick. It’s long and thick with just the slightest curve. You wonder how you’re going to be able to handle his impressive size.

Sukuna can sense your hesitation, so he decides to give you a little push. He grabs your hair roughly and brings your face closer to his throbbing dick. “Be a good girl and open wide.” With a shaky breath, you take the tip of Sukuna’s cock into your mouth. He’s so thick that you can barely fit him in your mouth. With the demon’s hand still on your head, he coaxes you take him in deeper and you oblige. Sukuna groans as your hot, wet mouth takes more and more of his length. You look so good with your lips wrapped around his cock. 

You start to bob your head up and down to Sukuna’s delight, but he’s rather annoyed at your languid pace. “Too slow,” he growls and that’s the only warning you get before the demon jerks his hips up sharpy. You gag as his dick hits the back of your throat, but Sukuna's firm grasp on your head keeps you in place. He tightens his grip and then begins to roughly thrust into your mouth. You try to relax your throat and keep your composure even as tears start to fall from your eyes as the demon ruthlessly fucks your face.

“You feel so good,” Sukuna groans. “You were made to take my dick.” A particularly rough thrust leaves you gagging again and drooling all over his cock. “Fuck yea, just like that.”

Once the demon is satisfied, he releases his grip on your hair and you immediately pull back to catch your breath. You wipe the spit from your mouth and the tears from your eyes, panting heavily from the rough treatment. Sukuna silently admires the way your breasts look against your heaving chest.

“Take the rest of your clothes off,” he demands. You shakily get off the bed and shimmy out of your pajama shorts. As you roll down your underwear, Sukuna doesn’t miss how it’s already drenched with your arousal. As you climb back on the bed, Sukuna roughly places you underneath him once again. He spreads open your legs and presses a finger against your entrance to test your wetness.

“Damn,” Sukuna growls. “You’re this wet from choking on my cock.” You moan in relief as you finally feel some friction against your throbbing core. “A good little whore just for me.”

The demon strokes your folds at a leisurely pace which drives you insane. You unconsciously grind against his hand, silently begging him to pick up the tempo, but Sukuna just chuckles and continues to tease you. He barely brushes your swollen clit with each stroke, causing you to whine in frustration.

“Please,” you whimper.

Sukuna raises his eyebrows with a smirk. “Please what?” He suddenly stops his ministrations to your immediate displeasure.

You bite your lip feeling slightly embarrassed, but you decide to swallow whatever pride you have left. “T-touch me. I want to feel you. I n-need to feel you.”

“Only because you asked so sweetly,” Sukuna hums. He finally rubs his thumb over your throbbing clit, and you immediately cry out as pleasure wracks your body. The demon’s touch becomes faster and rougher, leaving you a writhing mess underneath him. Just as you’re about to hit your climax, Sukuna pulls away and you can’t stop the frustrated whine that leaves your mouth. He strokes his dick amused by your reaction and leans down to whisper in your ear. “Wouldn’t it feel better to cum around my cock? Come on. Tell me that’s what you want, pet.”

The fire between your legs only grows as you listen to his words. Desperate for any sort of release, you beg for Sukuna’s cock. “P-please fuck me. I need your dick so badly. Please please please.”

Sukuna answers your pleas by lining his cock against your sopping entrance before pushing into you in one go. You groan at the slight burn as your walls stretch around his wide girth, but you’re so wet he manages to slide his entire length into you without much resistance. Once he’s fully sheathed, the feeling is completely overwhelming. You feel absolutely stuffed to the brim with his giant cock pulsing inside you.

“Oh my god,” you breath. “You’re so big. Fuck.”

Sukuna doesn’t give you much chance to adjust to his size as he immediately pulls out until only his tip remains before ramming back into you at full force. You yelp at the sudden movement, while the demon softly groans. He sets a brutal pace that leaves you absolutely breathless. With every snap of his hips, you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your toes curl in pleasure, and you rake your nails down his muscular back as the demon fucks you senseless.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sukuna growls as you continue to moan and whimper wantonly underneath him. When the head of his cock hits that sensitive spot inside you at just the right angle, the tension in your body finally snaps and a wave of pleasure completely washes over you. You cry out as you reach your climax, squeezing your eyes shut as you surrender yourself to the sensations of pure bliss.

Once you start to come down from your high, Sukuna pulls out of you and adjusts your body so that you’re on your hands and knees. Your arms are still quivering from your orgasm but you have just enough strength to keep yourself from collapsing. Both you and Sukuna groan as he enters you once again. He somehow fucks you even harder than before. The lewd, wet noises of your bodies slamming against one of another fill the bedroom. Sukuna grips your waist with such force as he slams into you over and over again that you know you’ll wake up with nasty bruises tomorrow. In this position, it feels like his cock is pushing even deeper inside you at such a brutal pace.

“You going to cum on my cock again?” Sukuna pants. He slaps your ass, and you squeak at the unexpected sting. “Answer the question, pet.” He gives you another slap.

“Oh god, yes,” you gasp as your cunt clenches around him. “F-fuck. Your cock feels s-so good.” Satisfied with your answer, Sukuna reaches around to rub your clit. It was just the right amount of extra stimulation you needed to reach your climax again. Your body shudders as you lose yourself to the white hot pleasure. Sukuna pulls out of you, and you immediately collapse on the bed.

“Who said we were done yet, pet?” The demon picks you up and places you on top of him as he lays back on the bed. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck as your hard nipples rub against his chest. You can feel his still erect cock poking at your entrance. “I want to watch your face as I fill you up with my cum.” 

You wince as he slips back into you. You’re already starting to feel overstimulated and sore, but Sukuna hasn’t shown any signs of slowing down yet. He ruts into your limp body, only concerned about chasing his own pleasure.

You don’t think it’s possible for you to cum again, but Sukuna’s cock is continuing to hit all the right places. The pain from overstimulation only seems to egg you on further as you feel the familiar tension building within your body once again. Sukuna groans as your walls start to clench down on him. His thrusts become more erratic as he approaches his own release. 

As he continues to pound into you as you’re splayed across his chest, the demon tells you about all the humans he’ll kill once he’s at full power. Not even women or children will be safe from his destruction. He’ll lay siege to all Japan, perhaps even the world. Sukuna mentions how the golden age of demons will begin once again. 

You begin crying, but you can’t even tell if it’s from the overstimulation, the shame of letting him use you like this, or the guilt of bringing such a horrifying demon back to Earth. With one more rough thrust, you come undone again for the third time during the night. Sukuna follows right after you, pumping you full of his cum. There’s so much that you can already feel his seed leaking out of you.

Sukuna remains still, trying to catch his breath as you quietly sob against his chest. The demon rubs your head with surprising tenderness. 

“Don’t worry, pet. I promise I’ll spare you,” Sukuna says. “You’re mine now. No one else will ever touch you again.”

You hiccup through your tears as Sukuna’s words fill you with dread. It’s all your fault. He’s going to be reborn at full power and wipe out human civilization because of you. The guilt tears at your heart.

What have you done?

Sukuna can already feel his power returning to him. It’s only a matter of time before he’ll be unstoppable. Perhaps a couple of more days of indulging himself with your body will get the job done. He rubs your back, feeling how your sobs rack your body. Your tears only amuse him. Just another sign of how weak humans really are.

“Get ready for the new age, pet. And it’s all thanks to you.”

[raggaraddy]

Can you Taehyungs version of reader being shot cause of them?

I really like your Jimin and Namjoon Version that you’ve written🥰

Request from @dramaclub-thin: Mafia BTS where the reader is shot for/because of them.

A/N: It is so much longer than I meant for it to be. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading.

If anyone else wants to request, you can here.

Mafia Bangtan other parts:

Namjoon

Yoongi

Jimin

Jungkook

---------

Deception.

Summary: When you agreed to help Bangtan take down one of their enemies, you never imagined it could go so wrong.

Trigger warning: Smut, violence, blood, murder.

Taehyung

Mafia! Taehyung

"Are you ready?" Namjoon asks, shutting off the car's engine and turning around in his seat.

"Yeah," you nod back, hoping the rocking pit of nerves in your stomach isn't visible on your face. Scanning back and forth between him in the front and Jin sat beside you, you're checking to see if they are showing any signs of worry either. Finding a bit of solace in their surety.

"We're gonna lag behind about 20 minutes to be cautious and stay out of sight. But we'll be close. Just do everything like we said, and you'll be fine." Namjoon summarizes once again. Jin offering you a kind, reassuring smile to accompany the leader's words.

You nod again, sucking your tongue to the roof of your mouth. Running your fingers through your hair to fluff it for the 30th time. Hyperfixated on the time, you see the dashboard clock tick over. 20:21.

"Okay, let's go." You exhale deeply.

It was three weeks ago that Namjoon came to you with a problem that Bangtan was facing. Their weapons dealer was forcefully put out of business, which was Namjoons gentle way of saying he was killed, cutting off their supply to automatics and other bigger guns. Leaving them vulnerable. The man who took over their previous partners supply was known to be working with some of the other, smaller local crews. It was also known that he was a rival of Namjoon's and due to this tension refused to work with Bangtan. Normally, a problem like this would be something that they could handle. However, as Namjoon explained it, this guy was backed and protected by foreign money and was too hot to touch without starting a bloody war.

So the plan was simple. Risky, but simple. The supplier had to die. And it needed to appear to be from natural causes, so it could never fall back on Bangtan. No one directly affiliated could be involved. That meant none of the members could risk doing it. It also meant that it was too high a priority to trust an associate or hired gun with this information. Not with the reach and money the opposition had. No, it had to be someone within the family that could handle this, but someone the supplier would never know.

Opportunely, the supplier was known to have a weakness for women, hence the logical conclusion for Namjoon was one of the member's girls. Trustworthy enough not to turn or rat, not likely to be noticed among the myriad of other women, and except a few of them, all had no record linking them to Bangtan, so they would be complete unknowns.

Jin said it, but you already knew it. Out of all of the girls, you were the one who was the most capable. Your difficult past left you with many emotional scars but made you the best person to handle the responsibility. You're not susceptible to intimidation. Have very few moral hangups. And most importantly Namjoon knows how much you love Taehyung. How you would do anything for him. To keep him safe and happy. He knows he can trust you, and that when the time comes, you wouldn't hesitate to do what they needed you to.

As for you, you knew that Taehyung trusted Namjoon irrefutably and you had seen countless times that he was a good leader. Furthermore, you could appreciate the gravity of the situation. Because you're sure that if Bangtan's brain had any other choice, he would not have asked for your help. But since he had, you were going to do what was necessary to keep your family and Taehyung safe.

The problem was that Namjoon had insisted on secrecy. The only ones to know about his plan were you, him, and Jin. A few years ago, sure, lying would not have been a problem for you, you hardly ever told the truth to anyone. But this changed when you met Taehyung. He was the first person you could be honest with, the first person you ever let love you. And lying to him was something you were genuinely struggling with.

However, you knew Namjoon and Jin were right. There was no way Tae would have been okay with you being put in harm's way and he wouldn't be able to separate his feelings from the urgency of the task.

Although, that justification doesn't make you feel less guilty for deceiving him. And to make matters worse, you expected this to be over with last week already. But on your first date with the supplier, he had left the club early to deal with work suddenly. Giving you no time to spike his drink.

So here you were, attempt number two.

While you were meant to meet the supplier at a fancy restaurant first, Namjoon's plan was to skip that and get to his house as quickly as possible. Before the valet could open the supplier's car door, you leant through the open window, teasingly licking your lips. "I just realized," you purr, noting his eyes drop to your mouth and back. "I'm actually not that hungry. So how about we skip to the end of the night, and then you can take me out for breakfast tomorrow morning."

Your blatant offer works like a charm. 20 minutes and a car ride later, he's pulling you down onto his couch. Hardly able to keep his hands or lips off of you.

Tearing at your blouse he rips the buttons apart, his mouth sucking and licking at your neck. One of his hands roaming and grabbing at anything he can, while the other starts to hike up your pencil skirt. He removes his vest and buttoned shirt, not once parting his lips from yours. His large, hard chest muscles pressing against you as he pins you in between his arms and the couch. Spreading your legs apart, he grinds his crotch into your core and you can feel what effect this is having on him. And you have to admit, despite your mind being focused elsewhere, physically it's having the same kind of arousing results on you.

But this isn't what's supposed to happen. He's moving too fast and it's quickly getting away from you. You only want to get him comfortable and distracted enough that he completely lets his guard down. You're trying to poison him, not fuck him.

Pushing his chest lightly, you spring upright. Slightly out of breath you pull your hair over your shoulder covering up a little and running your fingers through it, trying to regain some composure.

"I could use a drink." You pant, batting your eyes up at him.

"Sounds good." He nods, his gaze dark and ravenous. Suddenly haulting he leans back down to kiss you. His hands gripping your hips as he kisses you back into the sofa. Abruptly leaving you flat on the couch with flushed cheeks.

This is better. One or two drinks from now, you should be able to slip him the ricin. He drinks it, you fake a headache, and skip home.  24 hours from now he has a heart attack and dies from natural causes. Nothing tied to you. Nothing connected to Bangtan.

"I hope you like-"  The supplier calls out, only to be interrupted by a grating smack at the front of the house. You startle upright, sitting alert watching the hall entrance. He comes from the other side, coming back from the kitchen, a curious look on his face. Both of you staring at the same doorway as Taehyung suddenly comes in.

Fuck.

Your eyes go wide, half not able to believe he is actually here. He wasn't supposed to be!  Namjoon had arranged for Jimin to take him out tonight. And you had told him you were going to meet some of the other girls.

The thing you didn't know; a week ago when you met the supplier at the club, you had also said you were out with a few girls, including Jimin's girlfriend. But she was with Jimin at that time. And Jimin was with Taehyung. And she knew nothing about any plans to go out.

So when you said there was a movie night tonight, he asked around and found out that was also a lie. He wanted to trust you. To trust that it wouldn't be as bad as his worst fear. Still, the more he thought over how you lied to him, the more he worked himself up, getting himself into a paranoid and anxious state. Until he found himself tracking your phone, following you to an unknown house.

Seeing you half undressed and with someone he considers an enemy, his anger and jealously turns to pure rage. It only taking a second for the scene in front of him to confirm his worst suspicions.

Unleashing his gun he shoots wildly at the supplier. Reason slipping from him completely.

Barley able to avoid being hit, the supplier dives behind one of the sofa chairs. Nearly being riddled with the showering of bullets.

Wrapping your hands over your head, you cover your ears from the explosive sounds. Still firing, and keeping the supplier pinned, Taehyung storms at you.

"Tae-" you start. The gun empties, but Taehyung couldn't care less, tossing it aside. All of his attention focused on you.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" He growls through gritted teeth. His hand flying down smacking your cheek, slapping you back into the sofa. "How could you do this to me?!" He screams, his voice wavering from the emotion in his question.

"I can explain," You ignore the burn on your cheek, running your hands along your body, trying your best to cover and redress yourself.  You never wanted him to see you like this, and the look of betrayal in his eyes is stinging your heart more than any slap could.  "I-," you begin with no next word coming. There's nothing you can tell him. Not while the supplier is right here.

Taehyung's anger aside, you're terrified to think what him being here means. Namjoon's plan is completely derailed. And Taehyung attacked the supplier, creating an entirely new problem. You're not the smart one. You have no idea what to do or how to fix this.

Where the hell are Jin and Namjoon?

Taehyung is so fixated on you that he doesn't see the other man charging from the side.

"Look out!" You scream. Only it's a second too slow. Taehyung doesn't have time to react and the supplier swings a ceramic table ornament at his head. The shattered fragments raining over you, as your boyfriend is knocked to the ground. The shoe of the imposing man booting into Taehyung's torso.

You dive towards them, driving your body weight into the supplier to separate the two men. Pushing him away as his heel scarcely misses Taehyung's face.

He stumbles back a few steps and straightens up, nodding and pursing his lips with a look of revelation. Seeing you spring to Taehyungs defence revealed much more than you had intended.

While you're attempting to help Tae upright, he quickly shirks you off and lunges at the other man diving through him and dragging him to the floor. Fighting for dominance and survival, the two men break into a brutal fight trading blow after blow as they struggle to overpower the other.

While you're relieved to see that Taehyung is the more skilled of the two, and mostly has the upper hand, you're mainly sick with worry. The ramifications of this will play out beyond this simple fistfight.

All you can do is get Tae out of here for now, and hope that the supplier hasn't realised that this was an attempt to kill him. Maybe if you're really lucky he will only think of it at face value. A cheating girlfriend and her jealous boyfriend.

"Tae," you grab his arm, dragging him back with resistance. "We have to get out of here. Please,"

He drops the supplier's collar, who falls back limply. Turning to you he has blood pouring down his face from a cut on his cheek. Intensifying the cold look in his eye.

"We? What we? Don't you wanna stay here with this piece of shit." He snarls, standing up.

"I can explain after." You tug him again. He can hate you all he likes later. But first, you have to get out of here. "Please," you beg for his agreement.

Staring harshly, he retreats from you. A pained look in his eye that cuts you more than any blade could. Anger, hate, rage. You could handle all of it. But there's so much hurt and sadness on his face. It's nothing you ever wanted to be responsible for. It's more than you can bear.

"Tae," you hold your hand outreached, gingerly approaching him.  He doesn't withdraw further, allowing you to rest your hand on his cheek. Your heart breaking further as he leans into your touch. Resting in your palm for comfort like an injured puppy. "I promise, baby, this isn't what it looks like." you coo, "I love you so much,"

His eyes close, his face scrunching in anguish. He wants to believe you so badly. To forget everything he has seen. To take you home and never let you go. He may be the first person you let love you, but for him, you are the only person he ever let himself love.

Turning, you use his softening demeanour to lead him towards the door. But the supplier pulls your attention. Neither of you were paying him any mind and standing in the corner of the room he's pulled his own gun from hiding.

Reacting without a thought you shove your back into Taehyung, covering him. Guarding him.

At the same time, a shot rings out and the bullet hits you. A painful, sharp sensation piercing through your torso that makes you stumble back. Losing your footing you fall into Taehyung, your body never hitting the ground. Taehyung catching your weight, lowering with you. Resting you on his legs.

Taehyung grimaces in pain, his hand wrapping his own side momentarily. The bullet went clean through you and cut his side before flying into the wall behind the both of you. Dismissing his own injury, he leans over your body, ripping off his shirt and pressing it and his palms into your entrance wound. Trying to slow the bleeding.

Looking up at Taehyung with tear-filled eyes, you're in shock. Every breath you take is sore but other than that, your body is numb. Your hands clinging to his, all you can think is that you wished you knew what to say or do to lessen his panic. The sweat on his forehead rolls into the cut on his cheek causing the blood to drip further down his neck and chest. The fear and worry in his eyes exposing what you can't see or feel. That you're losing a lot of blood.

The supplier comes over the top of you both. He presses the barrel of the gun into the back of Taehyungs head, forcing him to crouch lower over you.

"I was searching for a reason to annihilate Namjoon and his pathetic crew. Thank you for giving me one." He digs the gun down harder. Taehyung growls, baring his teeth in frustration. "Too bad we didn't get to finish what we started though, Y/n. Oh well." He smirks, cocking the gun for additional effect.

"I love you," Taehyung whispers, the finality in his voice breaking your restraint, tears gushing down your face.

"I-," you can only begin.

Another blast rings out that makes both you and Taehyung jump. The supplier's body goes heavy and plummets to the ground, smashing through the glass coffee table beside you. Glass shatters everywhere as he falls down dead, blood pouring out of his head, collecting into a pool.

"Fuck sakes." Namjoon sighs from the living room entrance. Standing with Jin, both looking over the destruction with disbelief.

"Hyung," Taehyung calls out, his voice raspy and on the verge of tears. "Help." He looks down at you, your face pale, your limps drooping as the blood loss is starting to make you dizzy.

Namjoon opens his mouth readying to scold his brother, but he quickly stops himself. His own faults glaringly obvious at this moment. Jin removes his belt, wrapping it around your waist he fixes it tightly, making you whine in pain, keeping Taehyungs shirt pressed to both sides of your wound.

"Can you carry her?" Jin asks his younger brother.

Namjoon passes all of you, walking toward the lifeless body of his enemy, shooting another round into the back of his head with a frustrated look in his eye.

Taehyung nods at Jin with wide, panicked eyes.

"Then bring her." Namjoon turns with a flick of his head gesturing to follow him.

Jin supports Taehyung as he struggles to get himself and you to a standing position. Finding more strength once he is upright, lifting you into his arms as you whimper and moan weakly.

"Taehyung-" you start, your words sounding breathless and weak. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

"Shh baby." He hushes you. "Don't worry about that now."

He gets you into Namjoons truck, laying you down the length of the seat. As Namjoon speeds to the hospital, Taehyung sits in the back, his legs under your head. Holding firm against your bullet wound while petting your head.

Jin takes Tae's keys and follows you in his car. Already calling a cleanup crew to get rid of the supplier's body. Trying to salvage what he can of the bad situation.

"Namjoon," you call out. Even as your mind is starting to slip into unconsciousness your worry over the family is consuming your focus. "the plan. Can you fix the-" you breathe heavily running out of air.

He looks over his shoulder, guilt overtaking his expression. Nodding with an affirming grunt.

"Plan? What plan?" Taehyung muses, the shock steadily drifting away. "What is she talking about, Hyung?" One look at the blame on Namjoon's face and it clicks into place. "What did you do?"

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this." Namjoon reasons.

"Are you kidding me? You organized this?!" He snaps, "How the fuck could you risk her like that?!"

"It was supposed to be easy. She wasn't meant to get hurt-"

"Well, clearly she did!" Taehyung roars, his hands bunching into fists.

"I'm sorry, Tae. I wanted to help." You whine, lifting your arm up to touch his chest, trying to soothe him in any way.

"It's okay, baby. I know you did." He coos kissing your forehead, Taehyung's rage immediately subsiding towards you. He takes your blood-drenched hands in his and kisses them lovingly. Kissing down your forearms, pressing your hands to his head in agony and want to have you closer. Wishing he could absorb your pain and suffering.

Returning his wrath to the leader his voice lowers, coming out like ice. "We're gonna talk about this once she's okay." He snarls, "And know, I hold you personally responsible for every second she's in pain."

Looking in the rearview mirror, Namjoon nods solemnly. "Yeah, I do too."

Luckily for you, you recover quickly, and no permanent physical damage was done. But the damage that was done to Namjoon and Taehyungs relationship, the repercussions caused for Bangtan, and the fall out from the supplier's death... well that's another story entirely.

[levisgirll]

Hello! Can you please do a Levi headcanon/scenario where he hurts his crush's feelings and makes her cry but later regrets it and tries to apologise to her? Thanks!

𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 (𝙇𝙚𝙫𝙞 𝘼𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

➡text: Hello there!! And omg of course I would be happy to write this out 🥺 the fact that to see levi apologize or own up to his mistakes is something that I would like to even write about- so thank you for this request! I hope you love it anon ♥ (incoming some fluff and you wont regret it!)

synopsis:  it was a long tiring day and with under pressure levi ackerman had, he accidently said something to y/n (his crush!) which hurt her feelings. levi feels terrible and to make it up for it, made y/n realize that levi and her might share the same feelings for each other.

fluff, angst, aot world, imagine fanfiction ♡ —

It was a long stressful day at the Survey crops headquarters building, and Captain Levi was assigned with many paper work to get done with.

The last expedition made Levi worry quite a lot for Y/N and her safety. Sure she was skilled, and a fast thinker but that still did not stop Levi from worrying about her. It was because he was the captain he had to worry about his squad....right?

But after Y/N getting hurt on the last expedition because she is kind of ‘reckless’ to what Levi thinks and used as an excuse, his heart sank and he then realized not only did he care about her too much, but he also developed feelings for her and with time it grew. Just her presence, the way she was, caring, friendly, confident, her natural beauty and a badass made him fall for her more.

But ever since on that day, he blamed himself for her getting injured because she was on his squad team.

The upcoming expedition was next month and he was becoming even more stressed and load with paperwork because it was a bigger mission this time they never had. Y/N obviously noticed that so after having a chat with Hanji she went by to his office and entered inside. They become more comfortable with each other so she was pleased to enter his office whenever she wanted to.

“Hi Levi, how are you?” she said with a bright smile, trying to light up the mood that was surrounding in his office.

“What do you think sherlock?” He spoke in a sarcastic tone and then let out a deep sigh. “O-Oh, Um I was wondering if you would like some help with the paperwork? I am free the whole day.” Her kind gestures always somehow warmed his heart, he liked the fact how in her free time she would always visit Levi and try her best to help him. But tonight was different, it was too much pressure loaded on him, he was not thinking straight.

He didn't respond to her offer and instead he got up from his seat behind the desk and gave her a piece of paper. “Read.” Was what he only said.

You took the paper from him and noticed....you were removed him Levi’s squad! “W-What....why.” You said so quietly but it had a very unhappy tone.

“You know why. You are too reckless, and I don't want that in my squad.” He lied and looked away, it was not because of your recklessness and never was because you were brave and perceptive. But in fact, it was because he wanted to keep you safe and away from harm because this time his squad was placed on the front and he moved you all the way on the back where it was safer. He does not want to lose you.

“I-I don't understand Levi...I though you trusted me-”

“Yea I don't trust you, and I clearly don't have time for you either.” You couldn't believe what he was saying to you, this behavior was out of nowhere and it made absolutely no sense! But, he was your source of motivation and inspiration and when he said that to you, it shattered your heart to pieces. You thought he had faith and trust in you and that's why he added you to his squad, you thought....you were important to him. Well, was important.

“Levi, please this makes no sense. At least explain to me why!” You yelled out, demanding an explanation for what the hell was evening going on.

“Don't argue with me.” He now gave you one of his hateful glares, and you know in a million years you would never be getting that from him, you were completely taken aback now. “Leave now! That’s an order L/N”.

You eyes were widen now, and your eyes were slowly starting to tear up. These words, completely damaged you and your feelings, he even called you by your last name which he never does. You never felt so hurt and your stomach sank which left you static and....heartbroken. Hearing this is a ego-killer for you. The paper you held slowly fell off from your hand, and you brought your hand up to cover your eyes and started to softly sob.

He noticed that quickly, and he wanted to come and comfort you but before he could do that you stormed off, slamming his door, y/n never wanting to see his face again.

Levi took a moment to process everything and then realized he had actually messed up everything. Both of you were so close and the bond and moments you both shared, Levi cherished that deeply. But, he ruined everything, shattered the bond, and now actually ironically losing you. He clenched his fist and closed his eyes tightly, “Fuck...The fuck is wrong with me?! Why am I so damn emotional.” And it was a fact, he was that when he bottled everything up and then let out his steam saying some bullshit.

It was days, and he didn’t even see or hear about Y/N. He did not get any sleep, staying up, overthinking his stupid mistake and regretting this all. His gilt, anger towards himself and grief started to grow by each day, hating himself how he hurt the person he had a crush on and someone he adored a lot which then lead to him thinking how to come to you with his true and deepest apology.

He tried to catch any chance to get you whenever you are alone and say apologize, but whenever he saw you, you would just jolt and try to run away and leave the place.

He then noticed from Hanji and the other scouts such as Armin and Mikasa that you were clearly avoiding Levi. He caught you by chance one evening as you were sitting down in the mass hall eating your sandwich alone so cutely and he just missed seeing that sight whenever you both had breaks and he would watch you eat cheerfully but....you were so down, that spirt was gone.

He was approaching you, and you then noticed that and felt your stomach sink, ‘Is he coming to me? Wait...he is, it’s only me here!’ You thought in your mind, panicking and not knowing what to do.

”Good evening.” He uttered, but you noticed there was some nervousness in that tone.

You did not look up at him and you left your sandwich that was half eaten on the plate, and got up. You lost your appetite, and you proceed to leave the mass hall, but you stopped in your steps when you heard Levi yell out. “No...d-don’t go. Please just stay for a bit.” The way he said it, was under such pain and he it sounded as if he was begging you. He really struggled doing this, but he would do it regardless if it was just to speak to you again for a bit.

He caught up to you, and took your wrist while his thumb was caressing your skin. You were still looking down, not wanting to see his face because you knew if you did now, you would tear up again.

“Can we talk please?” He said really quietly, and if the mass hall was not empty you wouldn't be able to grasp what he had said. Levi was clearly tensed and not sure if what he was doing is right, he never done this before, apologizing and talking about his feelings. But he would only, and only do this for the person he loved. Y/N.

“What do you want?” it came out more coldly then you expected and that made him hesitate. He remembered the image of your expression and you sobbing that day and it is still graved in his mind. He cant seem to get it out his head and he wanted to hear your forgiveness so it could go away.

“I fucked up, I know. But fuck, I...miss you.” He finally said, in a nervous and stuttering tone. He now moved his hand from your wrist to your soft and cold hands, and you could feel his warmth, warming your hand.

He brought up his other free hand and placed his palm on his forehead. Clearly this was hard for him and he felt such a jerk and an idiot cause all his words is now gone and he wasn’t sure how to say how apologetic he was and how you meant the world to him really.

But he know thought, How could he do this to someone who regularly checked on him, cared for him and also actually saw him as a normal person unlike the other scouts who thought he was heartless and just labeled as ‘strongest solider’. Y/N was the only who truly cared for his wellbeing and he admired that a lot. “Hey....I’m sorry. Everything I said wasn’t right. T-To be honest it was your bravery that made me fall for you...and care a lot more about you. So, please tell me What should I do to make it up for you?”

This caused you to finally look up to him and staring at his grey eyes, and after such a long time you were able to see his face clearly and close up which never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You stared at him for quite awhile, kind of surprised to what he said and the fact he was holding your hand meant a lot. But Levi took this as you still not wanting to talk to him, he wanted to say more and better things but he was quite bad formulating any more cause it him nervous and afraid to say something else to upset you further. He really did care about your feelings. “I won’t go....till I hear your answer. I waited long enough.”

You spoke, and after a long time hearing your voice this nearly made him tear up and that was because you were a big part of his life. “I can’t stay mad at you forever, so I forgive you. But, you hurted me and I cant forget that easily. But for now, Just....hold me.” You went near him and now placed both of your hands on his chest. He did not waste any second and pulled you in for a hug. It was probably his first time hugging you like this and he never knew it would make him have this fuzzy and sweet feeling like this. Of course, he would hold on to your waist, arm and shoulders sometimes during battle or when you needed some support to get up and move. But this was different, and he questioned himself how he never considered that.

Y/N and Levi both finally made up with each other, and he was really grateful for that and even the fact you forgave someone like Levi, he felt really lucky.

Of course, it will take some time for you to accept his apology, but he wont give up just yet and he really makes an effort everyday, you guys took it slow and he is more than willing to wait for you ♥

As, regret and remorse can lead a person to feel sorrow, this can cause a sense of sorrow for hurting someone such as Levi’s crush, and even though it was bad, this lead to him finally confessing and saying his true apology if it weren’t for this. Time is a healing process after all.

Once you finally sat down with Levi and talked back (after the countless times he tried to initiate a conversation or start something such as cleaning together but never got much a reaction from you) and had a small conversation with him asking how was his day. This melted his heart and he actually felt really happy inside that you finally started to speak to him. He missed your company, your sweet voice, and....that smile.

You surprised him further when you gave him tea (because he gave you so many things to somehow make you smile) and his eyes lit up, Levi never felt so happy in the last few weeks. Then he knew, that you. y/n, was his light and source of happiness. He drank the tea slowly cherishing it.

wow okay this was kind of emotional then I excepted it to be, but I honestly see a scenario like this happening where levi struggles and tries his best to own up his mistake and apologize and he would only be like this if it was to his crush and someone he loved cause this man gets nervous <3 so please y/n, give him some more hugs, he might not seem to ask for any but he is deeply inside craving for it. It’s his best comfort as it is coming from you! Anyways, please leave a like or a reblog if you enjoyed this and I hope you liked this anon 💖

[tempenensis]

Fushiguro Megumi: the protector

One of the things that makes jjk very interesting is how Gege writes the characters in a way that freed them from a number of stereotypes usually found in shonen manga in relation to how their appearance are. And that makes the character in this manga feels more layered. One of the example is our deuteragonist himself, Fushiguro Megumi. 

Fushiguro is one of characters that make you thought of certain stereotype - but as the story progresses and his character is explored more, he is actually different from the stereotype of dark brooding rival of the protagonist his appearance is based of.

On his first appearance, Fushiguro is shown to be someone serious, seemingly a stickler for rules and formality, as he speaks in honorifics to Gojo in the phone -- even if it’s him saying that he will punch Gojo. When he speaks to Gojo, there’s a strange mix of formality and familiarity, which is a given considering their long history.

He even cites the law of jujutsu for the reasoning of Itadori’s execution right after Sukuna incarnates even though Itadori eats the finger because he is also trying to save Fushiguro. However once Gojo appears and asks what he should do to Itadori, his answer is right on the opposite direction. 

And from this point on, we know that he is never ‘just a simple rival’.

1. Not even a rival

Itadori and Fushiguro’s dynamic is one of the focal point that drives the story of jjk, among others.  

but who’s to say that someone you save won’t kill anyone in the future? 

Fushiguro and Itadori share the same fixation on saving people. While Itadori wants to give “proper death”, or save as many people as he can from curses, Fushiguro rather listens to his own conscience, where he want to give good people what they deserve. And this believe of his rooted from the ‘undeserving’ situation he feels is granted to his sister in this life. This different ideals made the two of them clash during Cursed womb arc, but they settles their difference pretty quickly out of respect for each other, and this connects the two of them closer than them to other characters.

For Fushiguro, Itadori has become someone as important as Tsumiki despite only knowing him for a short time - and likewise, Itadori also thought Fushiguro as important. Fushiguro, in addition, also feels that he bears the responsibility of keeping Itadori alive and shoulders the consequence of every action Itadori and Sukuna does, since Itadori consumed Sukuna to help him in the first place. That is the reason his first fight with Sukuna happens after all; him staying behind out of feeling responsible.

And this responsibility develop into the necessity to protect Itadori, both from  literal harm (the Kyoto students trying to assassinate him) and from metaphorical one. Likewise, Itadori not telling Fushiguro what Sukuna told him is also to protect Fushiguro from the guilt that will consequently arise. 

While there is a bit of rivalry, it doesn’t become something that the two of them fixated on. It does feed on their growth, but this rivalry mostly takes a backseat - it will, when he lives in a world where everything, even the authority, is trying to kill his closest friend and someone he is trying hard to protect.  

2. To die or not to die

Fushiguro’s nature as a protector is rooted in his personality. Because of his upbringing and precociousness, he has his own view of what he think to be ‘good’ and ‘bad' that is very personal to him.

Fushiguro has certain degree ‘sense of justice’ based on his notion. During this flashback, he picks fight with the delinquents not because they attacks him personally and not because anyone asks him for help, but just because he thought that they are wrong in bullying their classmates. 

At first he is not inclined to be a jujutsushi because saving people doesn’t fit into that notion of his. The work of a jujutsushi is in its heart is to save people and it’s tailored for not only the one who has the ability, but also the compassion to do it. Something that is unthinkable for junior high Fushiguro.

It’s Tsumiki’s curse that change Fushiguro. He is started to driven to save people like Tsumiki. And also, if there is someone that can solve the case of Tsumiki’s curse, it will be a jujutsushi.  

He feels that a lot of people he thought to be ‘good’ given unfairness in life. Like his sister who was cursed and fallen into coma, and Itadori who ate Sukuna then received death penalty.

I will save people unequally!

His personal sense of justice drives Megumi to help and save them in his own brand of heroism stemmed from his ego of choosing who’ll he save and who won’t. ‘Good people’ affects Fushiguro deeply that out of respect for Itadori who had died, he does something that usually he doesn’t do. 

While he sees both his sister and Itadori to be the same good kind, he judges himself to be different from them and he doesn’t care if he is ‘not right’. He doesn’t feel that he deserves the salvation as deserved by ‘good people’ and this reflects mainly in his... um... suicidal, sacrificial tendency. 

Every single time he is cornered in battle, he used to resort to summoning Makora - which essentially means he will die. He doesn’t think that his death is matter at all for anyone else as long as his purpose in winning the fight is fulfilled - which actually not necessarily true. 

It’s a good thing that after his training with Gojo, Megumi starts to realize the importance of him not resorting to ‘winning by dying’. This point in Shibuya actually marks a significant development of his character - even if he still summon Makora after.

3. Blood does not necessarily run thicker  

One of the most surprising aspect of Fushiguro is how he readily discarded the identity that comes with his bloodline. A contrast from Kamo and a point that makes their clash during Goodwill event arc very interesting. For Kamo whose mother left him so she doesn’t get in his way to be the family heir, the way Fushiguro easily deny his bloodline of course offends him highly -- it’s almost like Fushiguro does not care about his mother’s sacrifice. 

Well, it is understandable that he deny his bloodline. Regardless that the tradition of the Three Great Families just reek of shit, Fushiguro never experiences normal blood-related family bond since he was born. Everyone who should be his family based on blood never give him the bond other people experience. His biological mother had died, his father left him (and died unknowingly), Tsumiki’s mother also left the siblings. The one who took care of him was Tsumiki and Gojo to an extent, both of whom has no blood relation to him. Gojo even bought him from the Zen’in. And the Zen’in who is supposed to be his blood-related family trade him off easily with money, so it is understandable if he does not feel a strong bond with his own bloodline. 

This is ironically (but in a positive way) very contrast with Fushiguro’s   technique; Ten shadows jutsu. One of Zen’in’s most prized inherited technique is manifested by Fushiguro who deny his blood and passed down by his father who the family refused to acknowledge as one of their own. The technique that also made Fushiguro coveted by the head family that they readily forked over 10 million for him. It’s a very ridiculous situation.    

4. Next ‘strongest sorcerer’

The growth of a jujutsushi is never easy. 

Fushiguro’s growth as a jujutsushi is a difficult matter, way more than Yuuji. Compared to Fushiguro who is already familiar with jujutsu from a very young age, Yuuji is like a child whose growth is still in exponential phase. Since his main weapon is his cursed technique, Fushiguro’s growth as the more settled jujutsushi in this case should mainly come from inside himself. But it’s been a rocky way for him.   

First, his mindset is working against his growth -- because he has Makora to rely on, he tends to summon it readily than try to explore his technique more. Then as fundamentally Fushiguro is someone compassionate, he puts cooperating and matching his level to people around him first -- which actually hindered his growth of ability, because his nature as jujutsushi is on the opposite side.  

As a jujutsushi, Fushiguro’s nature is the same as Gojo and Sukuna; a lone wolf who is the strongest on combat when he is alone. Gojo even implied once that Megumi’s cursed technique has the potential to be on par -- even beat his.

With not one, but two strongest jujutsu users invested in Fushiguro’s growth, I think it’s not an overstatement to say that he will be an incredible jujutsushi in the future -- if his growth does not fail him. And going by the current story development, it is more required out of Megumi to be stronger than ever, both as the person that he is and as jujutsushi.     

5. The future is as uncertain as ever

Now that Gojo is gone, the burden Megumi shoulders will be exponentially rising. More than to stabilize Tokyo back, it is the responsibility that he always feel over of keeping Yuuji as Sukuna’s vessel alive that probably will demand a lot out of Megumi. In addition to losing Gojo and the waking of Tsumiki as one of the Brain’s victims, Megumi needs all the strength he can muster, literally and figuratively, to be able to survive the coming of near future -- even though ironically he is one that is readily dying anytime. 

[crumbledcastle28]

Chapter 6: A Jedi

Warnings: traumaaaa, lots of anxiety, like lots of anxiety, the reader really hates herself in this one, minor minor violence, references to violence, mostly just anxiety and hate.

Author’s Note: This is where the series starts to pick up, so I executed it as best as I could! I also went a little off canon with this one, so I hope it makes sense with the story. Thank you for any support!

Your journey to Sorgan was pretty smooth… but Mando was tense.

You tried your best to reassure him multiple times that this was the best choice for the kid and that you could help him with any challenge thrown at him, but he would just respond with a sigh and a solemn nod. So, you decided not to push it.

He had done even riskier missions on his own, so he can handle this one.

Once you arrived, you walked into the common house and met a woman named Cara Dune.

She introduced herself to you and she seemed very friendly, but when Mando mentioned that she was an ex shock trooper for the Republic, that is when you tensed up.

You had done things in your past that you knew would offend her. Not even offend her, but provoke her to strangle you alive. The fact that she was from Alderaan made it obvious enough that the Empire had hurt her deeply.

The only way to protect yourself was to hide who you really were, and your heart sank.

You felt like you had finally broken away from that way of life. The hiding, the anxiety, the fear. You felt like you could be yourself with Mando and the kid and not have to worry about that anymore. But the galaxy was cruel like that.

After the brief introduction, Mando proceeded to outline the plan and everything that the man on the recording (who you later found out to go by the name Greef Karga) had said, and Cara looked far from impressed.

“I don’t know, I’ve been advised to lay low,” she said, “If anyone identifies me, I’ll rot in a cell for the rest of my life.”

That makes two of us, you think.

“I thought you were a veteran,” Mando mumbled.

“I’ve been a lot of things,” Cara replied. “If I so much as book a passage on a ship registered to the New Republic-”

“I have a ship,” Mando replied, “I can bring you there and back with a handsome reward. You can live free of worry.”

“I’m already free of worry,” she said, “and I’m not in the mood to play soldier anymore. Especially fighting a local warlord.”

“He’s not a local warlord,” Mando replied, “He’s Imperial.”

You could see how Cara visibly tensed up at the word “Imperial.” If you weren’t scared of her before, you sure as hell were now.

“I’m in,” she responded, and you smiled at her.

She grinned back to you and asked, “Where do you fit in in this plan?”

You looked at the child in your arms and said, “My job is to keep the child safe. So I will protect him until he is used as the bait, and I will adapt to where he goes from there.”

“She can defend herself plenty,” Mando says, and Cara nods at you.

“I believe you,” she says, and you give her another smile.

I really hope I don’t let her down, you think.

~~*~~

Within the next hour, the four of you had arrived back at the Razor Crest.

Mando started the ship on track to Nevarro while Cara took a look at the weapon arsenal.

You watched as her eyes scanned over the array of options, and you couldn’t help but feel deep sorrow for her.

Her life was torn apart by the Empire, and now she was getting thrown right back into a fight. The fact that she wasn’t even going to join the mission before Mando mentioned that the client was Imperial made you nervous. She was not a woman you wanted to mess with, so you hoped and prayed you would stay on her good side.

The kid had somehow managed to make it to the controls and grab hold of the throttle, which made the ship veer abruptly side to side.

You ran to the child and lifted him away from the throttle while Mando stabilized the ship.

“Are you sure one set of hands is enough to watch that little beast? Worst case scenario, we made need y/n to fight with us. Maybe an extra set of hands could help,” Cara said, trying to catch her breath from running all around the ship.

Mando looked back at you and you nodded.

“She’s right. I can watch the kid as long as you need, but if you guys need me in a fight I can’t keep him with me. He could get hurt.”

Mando nodded and sat back down in the pilot’s chair.

“Looks like we are making a pit stop,” he said.

~~*~~

The Razor Crest landed on the property of a man named Kuiil. Mando said that he had helped him greatly in the past and he trusted him, and if Mando trusted somebody, you did too.

He greeted you with open arms and was incredibly nice. He led the four of you inside his humble home, and you never realized how long it had been since you stayed in an actual home.

Kuiil studied the child in your arms and said, “it hasn’t grown much.”

“What is your name,” he asked you.

“I am y/n. It is nice to meet you Kuiil,” you said and he nodded reverently to you.

“What about this one? Does she have a name,” he said, gesturing to Cara.

“This is Cara. She was a shock trooper,” Mando said.

“You were a dropper,” Kuiil said, and Cara nodded.

“Did you serve,” she asked.

“On the other side, I’m afraid. But I’m proud to say that I paid out my clan’s debt, and now I serve no one but myself,” Kuiil said.

The other side, you think. Kuiil served the Empire? And Mando had worked with him before?

You couldn’t deny the fact that this got your hopes up. Mando… working with the enemy.

If only he knew, you thought.

All of a sudden, the door behind Kuiil opened, and an IG droid stepped inside with a tray in his hands.

Mando immediately sprang to his feet and pointed his blaster at the droid. Cara joined him, and you blocked the pram the child was in with your whole body.

“Would anyone care for some tea,” the droid asked, and your eyebrows knit in confusion.

Weren’t these droids normally hunters?

“Please, lower your blasters. He will not harm you,” Kuiil said, obviously trying to diffuse the situation.

Mando, however, didn’t seem to want to go that route.

He kept his blaster pointed directly at the droid’s head and said, “That thing is programmed to kill the baby.”

You straightened your back at his words, blocking as much of the pram as you could, until Kuiil shook his head and said, “Not anymore.”

He then explained how he found the droid at a battle site and brought it back to his workshop. He decided to repair it, and then spent many days teaching the droid everything from scratch. It developed a personality, Kuiil mentioned, and it’s experiences helped the personality become unique to the droid.

“Is it still a hunter,” Mando asked.

“No, but it will protect,” he said, and Mando finally lowered his blaster.

There was no way Mando was going to let that robot anywhere near the child.

~~*~~

Later that night, you and Cara were sitting in Kuiil’s house while Mando was outside speaking with him, no doubt trying to convince him to protect the child.

“So what’s your story,” Cara asked, taking a sip of tea.

“Oh.. well… Mando picked me up on Tattooine. I worked there as a mechanic for a woman named Peli. It was a good job, but I wanted to get off that planet. I had lived there for a long time, and I wanted to explore the galaxy for once. It sounds cheesy, but I’ve always wanted to do that at some point. Mando agreed to take me with him on his missions in exchange for the child’s safety,” you say, and Cara nods.

“Nice. You made a living for yourself, and were brave enough to walk away when you knew the time was right. Most people never leave their home planet,” she says, and you nod.

“Yeah… I tried my best,” you say, and you try not to let your eyes darken. You didn’t like talking about your past. All it did was stir up old memories that you had worked to push down for years. You hated your past, and you didn’t know how well you could hide it much longer. Especially when you were being questioned by someone like Cara.

“The Empire… hurt me a lot. So, I am excited to hurt it back,” you say, and a big grin shows on Cara’s face.

She takes another sip of her tea, and looks up to find Mando walking through the door.

“Any luck,” she says to him, and he shakes his head no.

“Kuiil said that the droid can protect the child, but I don’t trust it,” he says and Cara chuckles.

“Yeah.. I think we got that,” Cara says and you smile.

Mando goes to sit down next to Cara, so she scoots over a bit to make some room for him.

You heard something hit the floor, and you realize Cara had knocked over your bag on accident. You had brought it into Kuiil’s house because you used it to store snacks for the child.

You stored other things in there too, and under no circumstance was anyone allowed to see them.

That was going pretty well, until Cara knocked the entire thing over.

“Whoops. Sorry,” she says and goes to start putting the items back in.

Your body is frozen in place and you feel like your lungs are being squeezed. Your limbs have turned to putty, and you cannot take your eyes off her hands.

If she sees it, I and dead. I am so dead

“It’s- It’s ok Cara. I’ve got it,” you say and start to stand up.

“No no it’s ok, I can-” she says, before her eyes widen.

She picks up an item and starts raising it to eye level, and you are just about ready to vomit.

Your saber.

You feel like your entire body is crumbling before her and she can’t even tell. Your breathing has become almost erratic and the sweat on your forehead starts to drip down to your eyes.

This whole experience, this whole journey with Mando and the kid could be completely undone right now. Everything you have hidden, everything you’ve buried, and everything you hoped you left behind on sandy Tattooine is staring you right in the face.

And Cara is….smiling?

“No way,” she yells excitedly, before laughing and smiling at you. 

“No wonder you were so secretive about your past! You’re a Jedi,” she says.

You take a glance at Mando, who is staring at the saber, looking confused as ever.

Ok, maybe this is good, you think to yourself, trying to relax.

I can pretend I was a Jedi. Sure. I have basically the same training as them.

But who were you kidding. You knew that wasn’t going to cut it.

“A Jedi?” Mando says, and Cara goes into a whole tangent about how amazing the Jedi were. How they fought the Empire till their dying breaths and defended the galaxy. They had been betrayed by their own clone groups, and most of them died in Order 66.

“But you didn’t!” she said and smiled at you.

You managed a smile back, but you had to have looked like a psycho. You were in so much physical and emotional pain from the amount of anxiety flowing through you. You had felt out of control before, but this was more dangerous than you knew.

You were such an idiot getting your hopes up. Thinking that a Mandalorian actually cared for someone like you. How could you have been so stupid.

“Even the colors of the sabers are legendary,” Cara said. “Aren’t they y/n?”

You nod back, but you know what’s coming.

Your truth was about to shine throughout the entire house, reflecting back at you like some sick joke. And you were screwed. You were so screwed.

“Well, let’s see it then,” Cara said and ignited the saber with both hands wrapped around the handle.

“Wait” you scream, but it was too late.

The tears hit your eyes before she even ignited the weapon.

The deep, burning red saber was ignited, and there was no going back.

It’s burning, fire like glow illuminated Cara’s face, and a sunset like tint was shining on Mando’s armor.

He always looked so beautiful when light would reflect off of him, but not like this.

The red from the saber was vibrant, but you had never seen a glow as red as the anger in Cara’s eyes.

She knew what this color meant, and your identity was revealed in all its glory.

A Sith

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @pinkninja200 @bookloverfilmoholic @farfromjustordinary

[robininthelabyrinth]

NMJ is used to taking care of everyone else. He's not used to being taken care of. After getting injured or sick or a qi divination or something, his loved ones all come together to take care of him. He learns more people care deeply about him than he realized.

And if you can include a scene with someone bathing him or washing his hair, I would be ecstatic.

ao3

“- and no excuses!” Nie Huaisang’s voice was a little shrill, but under the circumstances, Nie Mingjue didn’t entirely feel like he could object.

After all, all the yelling, shrill or otherwise, was a sign that Nie Huaisang was sincerely worried about him, something Nie Mingjue usually did his best not to doubt. His little brother was self-absorbed and carefree, just the way he’d vowed he’d let him be years before when Nie Huaisang had been little more than a child. So even if Nie Huaisang’s behavior annoyed him or worried him, which it often did, even if it seized up his heart to think about what might happen when he was gone, when there would be no one to take care of his brother for him, it still pleased him beyond measure to see his brother grow up happy.

So what if it meant taking on some extra burdens, meant doing that little bit more to conceal his hardships and portray himself as the unshakable older brother Nie Huaisang saw him as? So what if his brother’s complaints sometimes acted as thorns hooked deep in his heart, itching under his skin, making him wonder does he really think of me that way and have I gone too far this time, maybe he hates me now and all that?

Nie Huaisang was yelling at him again, voice painfully shrill and piercing, but for Nie Mingjue, to hear his brother worried for him and not from him made for a nice change.

Anyway, he himself had probably been just as shrill, when it had been his father that –

It wasn’t that bad, he reminded himself. Baxia was as strong a presence in his mind as ever, their bond uninterrupted. It only looked bad from the outside.

It looked – pretty bad from the outside.

Nie Mingjue tried to smile at Nie Huaisang, but for some reason that just seemed to make things worse: Nie Huaisang’s eyes filled up with tears at once and the scowl on his face deepened. “I’m serious, da-ge! Really serious. I’ll take care of everything, you won’t need to worry about anything at all – for real, this time – and in return, you’re staying put until the doctors say you’re better.”

Nie Mingjue nodded obediently.

Nie Huaisang burst into tears and fled the room before Nie Mingjue could even offer him a hug.

Watching his little brother run, Nie Mingjue sighed and turned his gaze towards his (usually) reliable head disciple standing guard in the corner of the room, trying to ask with his gaze what in the world he was doing wrong, but Nie Zonghui’s eyes were red like a bad attack of spring fever and he wouldn’t even look at him.

It was not, in Nie Mingjue’s view, a very effective way to guard him. Not that he needed guarding – maybe if he’d had no choice but to return injured to Jinlin Tower, that pit of vipers and nest of foxes, but despite the gravity of his wounds they’d still managed to make it as far as this little outpost in disputed territory. Even if it was a stretch, they could put soldiers here and call it justified as being land under the command of Qinghe Nie…though possibly Jin Guangshan would try to find some way to use them doing that to his advantage.

And Nie Mingjue wasn’t exactly up for another war at the moment.

He wasn’t up for anything.

“Stop thinking of politics,” Nie Zonghui said, and his voice was hoarse as if he’d been swallowing sobs. Nie Mingjue wondered how he’d guessed. “I always can tell because your nose wrinkles whenever you think too hard about it…ah, A-Jue, you scared us.”

Scared his half-generation uncle enough to revert back to using childhood nicknames, apparently.

Nie Mingjue wished he could say something to comfort him.

Well, if he were wishing for things, forget wishing that he hadn’t been struck temporarily mute, he might as well go the full way and wish that the terrible creature he’d been fighting – a demon of especially vicious character, and so unexpectedly near to Lanling, too! – hadn’t taken advantage of the weakness he still suffered from, after the Nightless City, to attack his saber rather than himself.

Might as well wish, too, that he’d never been captured in Yangquan in the first place. That he’d never been beaten or tortured, that he’d never had a hundred Wen feet kicking at his saber in some pale shadow their sect leader, attempting to break him as their sect leader had broken his father.

How he had felt when the demon’s blow had fallen straight onto his blade and she had cracked –

Baxia was fine. He could feel her.

(He remembered his father shouting for someone to bring him his saber, long gone, and wondered –)

Baxia was fine.

He’d examined her a thousand times and couldn’t see any true damage – the physical damage was artificially induced, located at the far end; for a regular saber, it wouldn’t be anything to think twice about, a bit of hammering in the forge and it would be as if it had never happened, with no lingering weakness. It was only if her spirit had been harmed, or the bond between them, that his own spirit would be injured, his mind affected, and that hadn’t happened. He’d checked, was checking, time and time again. She was fine.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t tell anybody that.

When the blade had cracked, he’d reacted on instinct in a fit of panic, sending all of his qi immediately to his bond with Baxia, desperately and frantically trying to ensure that his soul wasn’t torn out of his hands the way his father’s had been, that gruesome descent into madness and frothing aimless rage. The demon had sensed his distraction and gone for his throat with its claws, and then the rest of the Nie sect that had come on the night-hunt with him had descended upon it like howling wolves, throwing everything they’d brought with them at it.

Not a good night-hunting strategy (what if the demon hadn’t been alone? what if it was huddled together with other creatures of resentful energy the way they usually were, and using up their arsenal on it left them vulnerable? what if they encountered something on the way back?), but admittedly very effective.

The demon had been utterly vanquished – and really, all the admonishments not to think of politics aside, it was very unusual for such a thing to be lurking around in the environs of another Great Sect like that, especially when that sect had invited its guests to casually night-hunt to entertain themselves – and now they were here.

Or rather, he was here, lying in bed with needles stuck in him like a porcupine, drinking bowl after bowl of medicine as his brother frantically hovered over him. And Nie Mingjue was yielding to it all without complaint even when it was really annoying (he’d never been a very good patient) because he understood, having once been there in Nie Huaisang’s place when his father had been in his, except all his complaisance seemed to be only making Nie Huaisang even more upset.

Baxia grumbled in his mind, having apparently realized that they weren’t going night-hunting again until she was fully repaired and all the worry-warts around him satisfied, and he comforted her with his own misery at the idea: stuck in bed, not allowed to train, not allowed to hunt –

He’d tried to mime the idea of doing some correspondence, since much of it was in fact urgent and he couldn’t even imagine how much of the endless work of being sect leader would pile up in the event of an elongated absence, and Nie Huaisang had thrown a fit, and also several teacups.

Apparently he wasn’t even allowed to do that.

Nie Mingjue sighed and sank back into the bed, briefly putting on an exaggerated pout that made Nie Zonghui laugh a little, the sound wet in his throat. But then, once he’d turned away and followed Nie Huaisang out the door, Nie Mingjue’s pout faded into a resigned sigh.

A little while later, he heard familiar voices at the door.

“ – came as soon as I could, of course,” Jin Guangyao was saying, sounding a little – amused? Long-suffering? What a strange emotion for him to openly display, given the circumstances. Even if he was enjoying someone’s misfortune, and Nie Mingjue knew that his sworn brother often did, he would normally be more tactful about expressing it. “Your missive wasn’t very clear about what the issue was, Huaisang.”

Well, that would explain it. If it was Nie Huaisang, being called to assist with a disaster might mean anything from the dramatic breaking of a fan to the even more dramatic prospect of being forced to actually do some work for once in his life. It very rarely referred to actual disaster.

There was the muffled sound of sobbing – it turned Nie Mingjue’s stomach to hear Nie Huaisang like that, but the last day or so had shown him that there was nothing he could do about it – and then some quiet discussion, too low to hear without trying, and Nie Mingjue had gotten some very stern lectures on how much he was not to try anything for a while.

The murmuring continued for a little, and then – “What?!”

A moment later, Jin Guangyao rushed into Nie Mingjue’s room, usual smile still frozen on his face and his eyes a little wider than usual. It was a refreshingly subdued reaction, Nie Mingjue thought: none of the wide-eyed teary eyes or drooped shoulders that usually accompanied Jin Guangyao’s demonstrations of upset feelings, the pity-me scenes that felt so staged now that Nie Mingjue knew what an able actor Jin Guangyao was.

This time, though, he seemed almost sincere.

Jin Guangyao stopped a few steps into the room, staring at where Nie Mingjue was lying, expression still frozen for a moment, and then the ice melted and the artifice returned, a look of sorrow and sympathy – look at how bad you’ve made me feel by being hurt like that – that made Nie Mingjue want to sigh. He’d been happier, their relationship better, before he’d gotten to peek under the mask Jin Guangyao wore, but it hadn’t been the truth, and he always preferred a hard truth over a soft lie.

“Oh, da-ge,” Jin Guangyao murmured. “Da-ge, poor da-ge…how are you feeling?”

Nie Mingjue said nothing, of course, and Jin Guangyao frowned.

“He can’t talk,” Nie Huaisang said, having followed him into the room. “His throat was nearly ripped out –”

For fuck’s sake, it was a scratch.

“– and he was almost entirely drained of his qi. I could barely feel his heartbeat when I arrived! And he hasn’t been acting like himself, either! I don’t know, I just – I don’t remember what it was like, la – last – last time –”

The tears were starting again, and Nie Mingjue tried to raise a hand to reach out to Nie Huaisang, wanting to comfort him, but something about the gesture made Nie Huaisang sob even harder and even Jin Guangyao looked a little taken aback, even a little stricken. Maybe it was the amount of effort it took for him to lift his hand, the way he had to stop and start the movement? The way his fingers trembled with the effort it took to keep it up in the air?

(His father hadn’t been like this at all. Maybe Nie Huaisang had been too young, Nie Zonghui too distant, but Nie Mingjue remembered it as if it were yesterday – there hadn’t been weakness, not like this. His father had been in a coma for three days and nights, and then he’d woken up. He’d seemed fine at first, not weak at all beyond the usual sluggishness that followed after a period of unconsciousness, and then he’d asked for his saber – and kept asking, no matter how many times they tried to explain –)

Baxia was fine.

The weakness was his own.

It wasn’t like that.

“How can I help?” Jin Guangyao asked. “Sect business –”

“I need someone to watch over him,” Nie Huaisang interrupted, wiping his eyes. “Someone who knows him well. He’s not…his reactions are all wrong. He goes into these dazes sometimes, doesn’t respond, and even when he seems present, he’s flinching at things that aren’t there or being nice and I just…I really can’t tell how much he’s really here or how much of it is reacting on, I don’t know, some sort of childhood instinct. So it has to be someone familiar with his habits, his likes and dislikes.”

Jin Guangyao was blinking rapidly. “And – me? You want me to...I was his deputy, yes, but – surely you or someone else in the Nie sect would be more appropriate?”

“Sect Leader Nie has always respected the differences between rank,” Nie Zonghui volunteered, voice low. “It would hurt his pride to be seen in such an undignified state by someone who wasn’t family.”

The blinking stopped, Jin Guangyao’s rapid thinking abruptly (and visibly) hitting a wall. “I’m – I’m not family.”

“You’re his sworn brother, aren’t you? That’s almost the same as being brothers, which makes you family,” Nie Huaisang said practically. “I’ve written to er-ge, too –”

He’d what?!

“Anyway, I know how good you are at managing things, but it wouldn’t really be appropriate for you to be involved in Nie sect business, would it? It might put you in an awkward situation, having to negotiate against your father.” Nie Huaisang gave Jin Guangyao another hug. “You just focus on taking care of da-ge, all right? I don’t want – if anyone found out, they could –”

He was going to start crying again, Nie Mingjue thought miserably, and wondered if people could die of dehydration by means of tears.

“Nothing will happen to your brother while he’s in my hands,” Jin Guangyao said, and Nie Mingjue even believed him. If there was one thing Jin Guangyao hated, it was being blamed for anything – even if he wanted Nie Mingjue dead, which Nie Mingjue was sure he did sometimes, he would never let it happen while he was the responsible party. Which was why it was something of a surprise that he was allowing himself to be made responsible. “It’ll be all right, Huaisang. You have to believe that.”

Nie Huaisang sniffed and finally wiped away his tears. “You’ll see what I mean soon enough,” he said ominously, and stalked out with Nie Zonghui a few steps behind, shooting Jin Guangyao an apologetic look as they left.

Nie Mingjue couldn’t tell if he agreed or disagreed with Nie Huaisang’s words.

“I hope da-ge doesn’t mind my forwardness in agreeing to help him,” Jin Guangyao said, coming closer to the bed to look down at him, his expression simpering and fake as it always was these days.

As much as that falsity annoyed him, how could Nie Mingjue mind? He knew, as Jin Guangyao did not, what his brother was afraid of; anything that could ease his brother’s mind, if only for a moment, was good.

(Why would Jin Guangyao agree to be the one responsible for him? A demon of such strength shouldn’t have been anywhere near Lanling. And this little outpost was nothing, unguarded, vulnerable; they didn’t have any defenses if Jin Guangshan decided to do something against them here, and yet Jin Guangyao willingly agreed –)

He couldn’t tell Jin Guangyao that he appreciated what he was doing and knew how hard it was, how much of a burden it was, so he reached out and caught his sleeve, tugging it lightly, and tried to smile at him.

It wasn’t any more successful than when he’d tried it on Nie Huaisang – less tears, but it made Jin Guangyao frown in a way that looked actually sincere, as if Nie Mingjue had done something incorrect – so he tugged on his sleeve again, like a child, until Jin Guangyao instinctively lifted his hand to stop him. Nie Mingjue exerted himself, caught it, and drew the words for an apology on his sworn brother’s palm.

My fault, he thought at Jin Guangyao, hoping that he’d understand. I’ve troubled you.

My fault.

It was his weakness. His family’s, his father’s, his own – why should others pay for it, the way he’d paid for his father’s? All he’d ever wanted was to keep them from having to go through that type of suffering.

Jin Guangyao’s hand was trembling, he suddenly noticed, and opened eyes that had slid shut with temporary exhaustion to look at Jin Guangyao again.

His sworn brother’s face had gone ashen, his lips pressed together tightly as if something was upsetting him.

“Da-ge?” he said, strangely hesitant, but Nie Mingjue didn’t understand what he was trying to ask him and was too tired to really try. He squeezed Jin Guangyao’s hand again and released him, letting his hand fall down to the bed.

He checked once again on Baxia.

She was fine. She was right there, their bond as strong as ever.

(“Where is my saber?” his father asked, rubbing his face. “Pass Jiwei to me, A-Jue, will you?”)

He shivered.

Opened his eyes.

The room had been reorganized, he noticed, and the light was different, although not too much – had he fallen asleep? He must have.

Well, he was still healing. It was normal.

“Da-ge!” Jin Guangyao was still there, too. “Can you hear me now?”

Nie Mingjue nodded.

“Good,” Jin Guangyao said, and seemed to even mean it. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

My saber, Nie Mingjue thought, and started shivering again, the room suddenly gone terribly cold even though he was under two layers of blankets already.

Baxia was fine. She was only out of his sight because they were fixing her – it was a small thing, nothing to a normal saber, easily repaired. It was only taking so long because they would have to find a good forge and bring over a smith familiar with spiritual weapons.

Baxia was fine.

He wouldn’t ask for her. He wouldn’t.

“– leader Nie! Look at me – can you hear me? Sect Leader Nie, Meng Yao has a question for you –”

Nie Mingjue turned his head with some difficulty and blinked at Jin Guangyao, who looked relieved. He’d used his old name for some reason, maybe to get Nie Mingjue’s attention, and even that much was a bit of a surprise. Jin Guangyao hated his old name, would prefer to pretend it had never existed, and this was the first time Nie Mingjue had heard it from his lips since the ceremony in which he’d received the new one.

“Good,” Jin Guangyao murmured, seeing him. “Good – yes, da-ge. You’re back. Good. Look at me.”

Nie Mingjue tried to mouth the word ‘question’ at him, but it felt like it was impossible to communicate properly. The lack of language frustrated him immensely, even if the usual anger that was always so quick to leap to his side at the first instance of such frustration didn’t come, too buried beneath the fear.

Luckily, Jin Guangyao was quick and smart and after a few moments seemed to understand. “Oh, ah, the question? Yes. That. Ah...I wanted to know if there was something you wanted.”

My saber.

Nie Mingjue shivered.

Baxia was fine.

“I rearranged the room to your preferences –” He had, too. Even the light fell differently. “– but I’m not sure what else I can get for you that you might need or enjoy.”

Nie Mingjue considered trying to ask for correspondence again, something to do that would be useful, but quickly realized the futility of that.  Still, he didn’t really do anything else, other than work; he’d long ago given up all his old hobbies in favor of his duties, being sect leader and training himself for war and eventually war itself, and even he didn’t remember what they were anymore.

“As da-ge knows, he has always been a mystery to me,” Jin Guangyao added, a little bit of self-depreciating humor in his words. That old joke between them (had it been a joke?), about how Meng Yao would constantly be trying to figure out what Nie Mingjue liked so that he could serve him better and Nie Mingjue constantly being disinterested in every vice he tried to present him with…after everything, Nie Mingjue had started to wonder if it hadn’t been a joke at all, if Meng Yao had been truly frustrated by the fact that he couldn’t find any chink in his armor, a weakness he could exploit to hold over his head.

He was so weak now, though, and yet Jin Guangyao made the same joke.

Was there anything, really, for him to do? Jin Guangyao must be terribly bored, forced to be a babysitter for a man who couldn’t even speak to convey his wishes, and wouldn’t –

Actually, now what he thought about it, there was something.

Nie Mingjue lifted his fingers and twisted them into the hand sign they’d used during the Sunshot Campaign to mean ‘break camp’.

Jin Guangyao stared at him blankly.

He made the sign again, hoping to convey meaning. There wasn’t anything in the room he could point to, and he’d never been especially talented at pantomime, yet surely Jin Guangyao with his quick mind would be able to puzzle it out – every time he made that sign, they would stop moving, set up the tents, and the first thing he’d want, every time it was possible, was –

“A bath?” Jin Guangyao asked, and Nie Mingjue nodded in relief. “I’ll order one set up right away. Anything else?”

Nie Mingjue pointed to the pile of his clothing that was now neatly folded up on a nearby table – and much reduced, by the look of it. Not a surprise. The always-efficient Jin Guangyao would have sent the worst pieces, the ones that had been cut off his body by the doctors, away to be retailored.

Jin Guangyao frowned at it. “You want to get dressed? No…to get ready to receive visitors?”

Nie Mingjue nodded.

“Why? Who are you expecting?”

After some contemplation, Nie Mingjue held up two fingers.

Jin Guangyao blinked.

Sighing, Nie Mingjue pointed at himself – one finger – and at Jin Guangyao – three fingers – and then held up two again.

“…you want to get bathed and dressed before er-ge arrives?”

It was so good to have someone by his side that understood him. Losing his trust in Meng Yao’s character had always been the worst part of that entire experience, the realization that the person he’d thought was a friend had never existed but had instead been deliberately manufactured to match his tastes, but losing the help of such a competent deputy hadn’t been great, either.

“Da-ge, are you sure?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. He couldn’t let Lan Xichen see him like this – the Nie and Lan sects had always been closer allies than they’d been with the others, and they’d been friends since childhood. While not physically present, Lan Xichen had seen some glimpses of what Nie Mingjue had gone through when his father had been dying, and again right after he’d died.

He’d been the one to whom Nie Huaisang had revealed that one letter that Nie Mingjue had thought he’d burned, the one that he hadn’t actually intended on ever using, the one that laid out what he’d say if he were to say goodbye – it had only been theoretical, a way to get out frustration. He would never have been so selfish as to let the awful burden that had fallen on his shoulders fall in turn on Nie Huaisang.

But Lan Xichen hadn’t really believed him back then, when he’d explained that he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t have any plans to do anything that would make such a goodbye necessary. He’d worried himself sick over him back then.

He’d worry now.

Nie Mingjue knew Lan Xichen loved him, he did, even if sometimes recently he felt that Lan Xichen might take him a little for granted. Lan Xichen loved him, so Lan Xichen would worry about him, but Lan Xichen also expressed his worries through trying to fix things.

He didn’t want to have to deal with that right now. There was nothing that needed to be fixed – Baxia was fine, he was fine, it was just a matter of healing for him and a bit of reforging for her.

It was fine.

“Da-ge, the bath is ready.”

Nie Mingjue pulled himself back out of trying to check on his bond with Baxia again to find that it was, steaming and hot; the servants must have moved it in while he wasn’t paying attention and then departed again. He tried to pull himself up to sit, but Jin Guangyao pressed down on his shoulder with surprising strength.

“Let me help you, da-ge,” he said, and Nie Mingjue graciously didn’t call him out on how much he was clearly enjoying himself. It was nice to think that part of that enjoyment was in helping him, as opposed to merely being in a position of power, but it was so hard to tell with Jin Guangyao – he wasn’t even sure the man himself knew which it was.

Shakily, with Jin Guangyao’s assistance, he sat up, and put his feet on the ground, only to have to wait while Jin Guangyao fussed around removing the acupuncture needles that had been left behind, murmuring something about having gotten the doctors’ approval. After that was done, Jin Guangyao helped him painstakingly totter over to the bathtub – his sworn brother might have only mediocre cultivation, but he was still stronger than Nie Mingjue was now, with his qi depleted and his battered body little more than dead weight. Nie Mingjue was as dependent on him as a small child on their parent. Once there, he helped brace him against the wall, helped remove his inner robes, and finally, blissfully, helped him slide into the bathtub.

“Da-ge has so many scars,” Jin Guangyao said, and Nie Mingjue looked at him.

Jin Guangyao was studying him with a strange expression on his face. He hadn’t allowed him to assist him with bathing before, Nie Mingjue recalled; he had been trying to maintain a divide between personal servants and military hierarchy, and Jin Guangyao – Meng Yao, then – had been a guest disciple, not a servant. Even when there were no personal servants to be had and Jin Guangyao had offered, Nie Mingjue had refused, not wanting his deputy to feel as though he were being looked down upon.

Still, it wasn’t as though the man hadn’t seen his bare chest before – there had been times on campaign when a bath hadn’t been possible, only a quick dip in the river to wash off the blood, and Jin Guangyao had even helped stitch him up a few times when an enemy’s blade had struck true and the doctors were busy elsewhere – so Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure what was drawing his interest this time.

Normally, he would have asked.

Normally, he would have gotten angry at the presumption, less because of the violation of social norms than because he was embarrassed, and when he was embarrassed he got angry. That was his temperament, the way he’d been raised, always defaulting to anger instead of other, less comfortable emotions, and he’d tried very hard to avoid passing along those habits to Nie Huaisang. He hoped one day to see Nie Huaisang teaching children of his own with new habits, different habits – for his little brother to scold him for being a bad example to the younger generation, for him to have a reason to try harder to be better.

He couldn’t ask now, and there was no point in being angry. Or embarrassed, for that matter.

Jin Guangyao’s hand came to his shoulder, and then slid down to his chest, the pressure of his fingers light and barely present. There was nothing sexual or threatening in the gesture, simply curiosity.

“So many new scars,” Jin Guangyao murmured, and Nie Mingjue looked down at his chest: raised red lines all over, old injuries scabbed over and scarred and healing. His cultivation was at such a high level that even scars eventually faded away, but many of these were too new. The marks of a knife, a sword, a whip, the remnants of blunt weapons that hit so many times that they pierced skin, even the indentation of human nails driven in deep…

The worst of it was his left side, right above his ribs, where the knife marks were precise and orderly, triangles of flesh cut like fletching; he had made a habit of not looking at himself there, yet that was where Jin Guangyao’s fingers went.

“How did this happen, da-ge?” he asked, staring, his gaze unnervingly intent. “Who tried to skin you alive?”

Nie Mingjue didn’t understand the question. He pointed at Jin Guangyao.

“What?” Jin Guangyao asked, not understanding. “Do you want me to get you something?”

Nie Mingjue shook his head. He pointed again, this time at his side at the place he preferred not to think about, and then once again at Jin Guangyao himself.

Jin Guangyao stared back at him, blank for a moment until he understood, and then he visibly flinched. “Me?” he said, his voice rising an octave. “No, I didn’t –”

It hadn’t been him directly, no, but the person who had done it had been his student – had boasted about being trained by Wen Ruohan’s chief torturer, the inventor of all those terrible machines that they’d heard rumors of, some of which they’d brought out to show him through intimate demonstration – the sick feeling in Nie Mingjue’s stomach when he’d found Meng Yao standing above him, smiling, and realized that the person that had been spoken of was him…

It might as well have been him that did it.

“I hadn’t realized,” Jin Guangyao said. His fingers had fallen to the edge of the tub, holding on until his knuckles were white. Anger, Nie Mingjue thought with the experience of a connoisseur, but he didn’t understand why it would make Jin Guangyao angry. “They shouldn’t have touched you. They weren’t allowed –”

Nie Mingjue didn’t especially want to hear any more of Jin Guangyao’s excuses – there were always excuses, he’d found, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t forgiven him for it already, or did Jin Guangyao think that he’d sworn brotherhood for nothing? – so he closed his eyes and let himself sink down into the water until it was over his head.

It was peaceful under the water, disconnected from the rest of the world. He didn’t have to think about Jin Guangyao ordering his torture and then covering it up, or maybe even ordering them not to do it but not keeping close enough watch to prevent it; he didn’t have to think about all the people that Jin Guangyao couldn’t use, the ones that didn’t get the benefit of such an order.

He didn’t have to think about all those feet kicking his Baxia like she was a dog they wanted to put down, or Meng Yao holding her in his hands and asking him how many slaps he thought it would take until she shattered the way Jiwei had shattered, or the invitation to go night-hunting at Lanling that led him straight to a demon that knew exactly where to strike –

Baxia was fine, he reminded himself. Fine.

Hands abruptly appeared in front of his eyes, bursting into the underwater scene in a frenzy of bubbles, catching him around the shoulders and pulling him up into the air to see Jin Guangyao’s white face and hear him shouting, “Are you mad, staying under for so long?! You’re not a fish; you can’t breathe water!”

Nie Mingjue blinked at him.

“You’re no Jiang sect child of the river,” Jin Guangyao scolded. “What’s wrong with you? Do you not want to live anymore?”

(“Stop stalling and get me my saber!” his father roared, his hand lashing out too quick for Nie Mingjue to avoid, the full-force blow sending him staggering and breaking something inside of him in more ways than just the physical. “Do you not want to live anymore?”)

Nie Mingjue missed the water already.

Jin Guangyao’s fingers tightened on his shoulders. “You’re not allowed to go, da-ge,” he said. “Not when I just realized that I want to keep you around.”

Nie Mingjue shook his head, realizing that Jin Guangyao had misunderstood his silence. It wasn’t that he wanted to die, he wouldn’t do that to Nie Huaisang, but that sometimes he didn’t know if he would be able to stay.

Baxia was fine – wasn’t she?

“Just don’t move, all right?” Jin Guangyao huffed, and settled down behind him. He found some soap and began scrubbing at Nie Mingjue’s skin as if he were a piece of laundry, although he didn’t use enough pressure for it to actually hurt. The repetitive movements were soothing, lulling him to relax – especially when Jin Guangyao, grumbling something about stress, jabbed him repeatedly in certain acupoints to force his muscles to release stored-up tension – and after a little while Jin Guangyao stopped being so rough.

“Huaisang was right,” he said after a while, having shifted over to running his fingers through Nie Mingjue’s hair as if he were a child, carefully detangling each knot he encountered. “You really are acting far too nice. Shouldn’t you be scolding me for overstepping?”

Nie Mingjue shook his head lightly, careful not to jostle Jin Guangyao’s hand.

“No? Then something else, surely. Where’s your anger, da-ge?”

Nie Mingjue looked down at his hands, his saber hand instinctively curling up to grasp a hilt that was no longer there. It looked wrong to see them like this, empty.

(“Where is my saber?” his father cried out. “My saber – my saber!”)

He wasn’t his father.

That he would die of a qi deviation, die young, years before his time – this he had accepted. But he would not die the way his father died, angry, lashing out at all the ones he loved most, not if he could do anything about it.

Maybe in the future, when he lost himself fully, he would become a resentful ghost in human flesh, a raging monster fit only for slaughtering – if his thoughts themselves had already begun to lie to him, to drip poison into his ears and into his heart, if despite everything Baxia was actually gone and he was already dead and he just hadn’t realized it yet –

For as long as he could manage, Nie Mingjue wouldn’t let himself be angry.

Did he still doubt Jin Guangyao? Yes, of course. But what good would it do to suspect him now? If he tried to accuse him, even he wouldn’t believe his own testimony.

(“- they say your father died of rage –”)

“Come on, then,” Jin Guangyao said, coaxing him like a child, and his hands as he helped him out of the bath were almost gentle. “I’ve got you some new robes. I’ll help you into them.”

Nie Mingjue caught his hand.

“Da-ge? Do you want something?”

My saber. Where is my saber?

He shook his head and let Jin Guangyao help him back to the bed. He sat heavily there and stared at his hands as Jin Guangyao wrapped him in a new set of robes – his own, he thought, but he couldn’t tell if it was the extra set he’d brought with him to Lanling or if it’d been brought from the Unclean Realm.

Was there enough time for someone to come from the Unclean Realm? They had smiths there, and forges –

Where is my saber?

He stared at himself in the mirror, Jin Guangyao lingering behind him, and closed his eyes.

Like all cultivators, especially good cultivators, Nie Mingjue had a very good understanding of his spiritual energy, the way his qi moved through his meridians and settled in his dantian. He felt it every time he cultivated. His spiritual energy was drained dry right now, but if he really pushed and strained himself, he could squeeze up a small droplet of qi and guide it through the whole cultivation sequence. He could watch it carefully, wait for it to hit the place where he connected with Baxia – where he could feel her, echoing back at him. Intact.

She was fine.

She was.

She had to be.

Nie Mingjue felt someone start to braid his hair and frowned a little: perfect memory or not, he didn’t think Jin Guangyao knew the right braids. There were very subtle nuances to the ones he wore, significant ones; copying another version of his own hairstyle might be making a grievous error. He’d been wearing war-braids almost the entire time they’d known each other, after all…

He opened his eyes.

It wasn’t Jin Guangyao behind him.

“Welcome back, da-ge,” Lan Xichen said. His eyes were red around the edges, as if he’d been crying, or trying very hard to keep from doing so. “How are you feeling?”

Empty, lost, afraid – oh, Xichen, I’m so very afraid –

“Huaisang said to tell you that if you don’t stop doing whatever it is that’s keeping your qi drained, he’ll lock your spiritual energy away,” Lan Xichen said after a few moments, when it became clear that Nie Mingjue wasn’t going to respond. “And I have to say, I agree with him.”

Nie Mingjue lowered his head, feeling guilty. He shouldn’t be causing them any more worry than they already had – Nie Huaisang’s eyes were never empty of tears, and it was all his fault.

“You need your spiritual energy to recover if you want to heal,” Lan Xichen said. His hands did not falter as he made the braids – the right ones, too, a sect leader at peace who was in temporary retreat due to ill health. “And you will heal, da-ge. We’ll do everything that we can to help you.”

Nie Mingjue’s shoulders slumped. That was a familiar refrain by now, and his eyes drifted down in the mirror in front of him to look at Liebing, tucked away in Lan Xichen’s belt as always – Lan Xichen would want him to meditate while he played, no doubt. As far as Nie Mingjue knew, there was no guqin here for him to play Clarity, but there were other songs available.

“I’ve asked Wangji if he would play something calming for you, if you think it would help, but I won’t force you,” Lan Xichen said, and Nie Mingjue raised his eyes to meet his in the mirror, surprised. His old friend tried to smile but didn’t quite succeed. “I’m not entirely up to doing it myself, I’m afraid. Liebing requires perfect control of breath, and I’m…”

He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them once more.

“Do you know how much I’d miss you, da-ge?” he asked, voice low. “How much emptier my life would be without knowing that you were there? And not just me – all of us.”  

Nie Mingjue didn’t know what to say.

“There’s Huaisang, of course, but you know that. Your sect, your family…even A-Yao has been unusually upset about the idea of something more happening to you, he was engaging Nie Zonghui in a conversation about the defenses in place here in the event someone tried something last I saw. Wangji dropped everything to come rushing here when I wrote to him, and – you’ll never believe this – Wei Wuxian himself followed him here, asking about your health.”

Wei Wuxian? Here, so close to Lanling? That was a terrible idea.

“He’s being careful,” Lan Xichen assured him. “He went with Wangji and Jiang Wanyin to examine the site of the night-hunt – they’re saying it’s suspicious that a demon of that power managed to end up this close to Lanling, especially undetected, with you going in without any warning and the demon targeting you in such a specific way.”

It was suspicious. Also, Jiang Wanyin was here?

“I don’t know how he found out, he just showed up here,” Lan Xichen said. “I think Nie Huaisang might have written to him? Either way, he wanted to help.”

Nie Mingjue’s brow wrinkled.

“If you’re wondering why, it’s because he respects and admires you,” Lan Xichen said. “You helped him so much during the war; he wants to repay you…everyone does. You’ve done so much for all of us.”

Nie Mingjue shrugged. He really hadn’t – he’d only done what he’d need to, nothing more.

“You mean so much to all of us,” Lan Xichen murmured, finishing the braids and putting his hands on Nie Mingjue’s shoulders. “Oh, da-ge. Please hold on for us.”

(He thought of how his father looked at the end, gurgling on his own blood, red seeping out of his eyes and ears and nose as well and looking almost relieved to be going – relieved that his endless nightmare would finally come to an end, that he could rest at last in his grave…)

Nie Mingjue nodded and ducked his head to hide the tears brimming in his own eyes.

He’d stop checking, he promised silently. Baxia was fine, he thought, or maybe she wasn’t, but he hadn’t yet lost his mind, hadn’t yet started lashing out, and all those he loved were here by his side, ready to support him and help him however they could, if they could.

He would need to have faith.

He was still afraid, terribly afraid, but – he would, he could, rely on others to help support him, when he couldn’t support himself.

They wouldn’t let his anger eat him alive, and so he couldn’t let his fear do the same.

Nie Mingjue raised his hand and covered one of Lan Xichen’s with it.

He licked his lips, swallowed.

Forcing himself to speak felt like trying to break the Lan silencing spell, but he had to do it.

“Xichen,” he croaked, voice barely audible. “…Baxia?”

Where is my saber?

Lan Xichen’s hands tightened on his shoulders.

“Repaired,” his friend promised him. “Reforged by the finest spiritual smith in Qinghe. Huaisang is on his way to bring her to you now.”

Nie Mingue smiled.

A shichen later, Nie Huaisang pressed Baxia’s hilt into his hand, expression worried, all of them worried, all of them staring at him to see what would happen as he held his saber and carefully pressed some little, tiny part of the spiritual energy he’d been saving up into her.

Baxia sang out her song, bright and clear and unblemished, full of righteousness and rage.

Nie Mingjue closed his eyes and wept in relief.

She was fine.

[animeyanderelover]

Hello again! Can I have prompt 46 with Ash? Tnx

Recently I told my friend that I had a lot of requests about him and she laughed about it. She doesn't really like him, but she gives him credit since he looks good.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, extreme paranoia, isolation, desperation, mentions of kidnapping,overprotectiveness, mentions of self-harm, Stockholm syndrome

Prompt 46: "Can I...can I kiss you?"

It was nothing less than a miracle that someone like you existed, someone who was cleansed from all the sins of this world and the corruption of humans. You were radiating with everything Ash had wanted for this world, a world that he wanted to give to you. It was the minimum from what she should and would do for you, it was his duty as your very own guardian angel. A role he was utterly dedicated too, devoted to his very own angel who forgave him his sins every time.

It was true, you had forgiven him his crimes already a long time ago as everything around you had started to fade away and you had lost count of how long exactly you had been stuck in here. Somewhere around one and a half years would be your expectation, looking on how the seasons had changed through the large and closed windows which symbolized your loss of freedom. But you didn't mind anymore.

You only needed and wanted Ash, your guardian angel.

There was clear tension in his body, you could feel how he stiffened up under your embrace. He had never really received that sort of affection before from anyone nor would he have ever wanted it from all those worthless lives walking around freely. You were the only person he actually wanted any sort of touches from. That was how pure you were, even causing someone like him craving something and falling victim to his own desires. And it was his own fault for being so weak-minded. He didn't deserve you yet letting you perish outside would be an even greater sin. He had to keep you safe.

"My Queen...what are you doing?"

Being able to keep his composure was important in front of you, though he remembered to have failed multiple times in the past already. Severe punishment was the only thing he could think of to atone for his failures for not being good enough, for proving himself to be so incredibly useless. Even now he could feel some unhealed wounds aching a bit, but you didn't have to know about his weakness and incompetence.

You blinked slightly confused up at him when he asked you such an obvious question, but it soon turned into slight giggling that instantly plunged Ash's heart into painfully warm emotions and forced his eyes to get wet. It had taken a while until you had been able to look so happy after he had quickly rescued you from all the evil waiting to devour you. The distress he had felt back then could never be put in words and no burns, knifes and broken bones had been able to make up for what you had been suffering under. Even now it remained as a anxiety deeply stuck in his heart. But looking at you now, smiling at him and not staring with wide eyes filled with fear at him, was worth much more than his whole life could ever repay you.

"I’m hugging you. It’s just that you always look so worried and stressed over my safety and never appear to take a rest. Just now you did as well so I thought this might help you a bit. A strong hug can be more worth than thousand words after all. That’s what my mother told me at least when I was younger.”, you replied softly, pressing your face deeper into his chest with a content look on your face.

There was nothing Ash could think of for a few moments, instead he seared the scene in front of him deep into his brain, how you were currently buried into his chest, looking so happy and peaceful. So stunning and precious.

Tears were quick to escape his eyes only seconds later, his insides stirring up with warmth that stung him and yet baked him with something he hadn’t felt in so long. Comfort and peace.

This was exactly why he had to protect you with his very own life, no one was allowed to snuff out the light you carried inside of you and that was able to even share it’s warmth with him. You possessed too much kindness to understand, but normal humans only destroyed what they touched, ruining it with their greed.

He wouldn’t let them do the same to you.

He would kill everyone who would even do as much as getting too close.

He just had to guarantee that you would live.

But first of all he had to calm himself down or otherwise he might worry you even more than he seemed to have done already. The tears were quickly wiped away with his sleeves before Ash was able to look at you again, still feeling like he wanted to continue crying. His heart felt like it might burst at any moment.

“You have so much warmth and love inside of you that I don’t think I deserve any of it. You shouldn’t even be concerned about me, I merely do what I have to do as your guardian. If you were to fall victim to this damned place, I would perish as well. What use is an angel who can’t even protect their chosen one?”

Pain was twisting his voice and face a bit when he dared to imagine how a world without you would be, a world filled with grief and darkness for him. Letting his guard down would be a fatal mistake, he had seen the worst of this world and the humans and he knew that it would happen again. That was why he had to be like this for you were his heart beating outside his chest. If something were to ever happen to you...

The angel hadn't even noticed that he had already started crying again, fist tightened and body shaking whilst getting lost in fears of losing the one good and bright thing this world had still left.

"But for me you're more than just a guardian angel. You're my angel and I want you to feel happy as well. I want you to feel loved as well. You do so much for me, but I feel like I only cause you stress and uneasiness. Shouldn't you be happy because of me?", you asked him in slight protest, feeling sadness whilst seeing the man you had come to love like this again because of you. You had never seen him truly relaxed nor had you ever been able to show him your feelings. He wouldn't let you, not thinking that he deserved you.

His reaction was instant, suddenly falling on his knees upon hearing from what you had said that he had disappointed you yet again, the visible look of your sorrow only stabbing his fear deeper into his very soul.

"I-I am so sorry! I didn't know that you felt this way only because I was so selfish to only think about myself like this! I don't deserve your forgiveness and accept any sort of-"

When he felt the soft sensation of your hands cupping his stained cheeks, he abruptly stopped his rambling, trying to not choke on his own breath that had gotten irregular.

"You don't have to apologize to me. I don't want to hear you saying such things about yourself. Don't you understand? I am unhappy whenever you are like this, seeing yourself as so worthless and not deserving of my love. That's what hurts me so much. You're rejecting my feelings. I love you, Ash. And I want to know if you do too. Because if you do, please stop talking like this and behave so distantly."

Your voice conveyed every bit emotion that was going on inside of you in that moment, something that Ash noticed with widened eyes as well.

Silence was cut short by him when he realized that you wanted something crucial from him which he would gladly give you. He had never considered that you would ever consider his love as something you wanted, consider him as someone you loved. When had been the last time someone had been truly kind to him and loved him? He couldn't remember anymore.

"Of course I do. You should never doubt my feelings for you. I love you more than you could ever imagine. It's impossible to function without you.", he managed to reply with a shaking voice as he grabbed both of your hands in his own.

"Then why are you acting like this? Everyone deserves someone who loves them. Without love it's a very painful life, isn't it? That's why I am hurting as well. Let me love you and I promise that you'll be able to feel peace as well.", you muttered slightly embarrassed out, leaning your head down so your forehead could rest against his own.

Slight sobs were starting to catch up to Ash as he was staring in pure awe at you.

"Thank you. I'll be better and make sure that I won't cause you sadness anymore.", he pressed out, tightening his grip on your hands only the slightest bit so he wouldn't hurt you.

"I'm glad to hear that.", you replied with a sincere smile on your face, joy stirring your heart up just by seeing that for the first time since he had abducted you, Ash was looking relieved and less tense. He just looked extremely grateful.

"May I ask you for a favor then?", you requested with a certain idea in mind.

"I'll do anything for you.", Ash replied, sounding very emotional.

"I want to do something for you for once since you normally do anything for me."

Hesitation and clear dislike instantly shadowed his face, the thought of him asking something from you going against Ash's belief in all the wrong ways. You shouldn't have to do him favors.

"It doesn't have to be something difficult. It can be a really simple thing. Just...something that I can do for you this once. Please.", you begged slightly, seeing the angel already struggling. You knew how he felt about such things, he hated letting you do something for him and he had never done it before either. Ash saw it only upon himself to serve you which was another thing that sometimes made you feel guilty. You wanted to do more for him as well.

"Can I...can I kiss you?"

Maybe that had been more a slip of his tongue, but he had been slightly panicking since hadn't want to sadden you again nor had he wanted you to do physical work for him. It was supposed to be the other way around.

So when he had stared for a moment at your face, eyes locked on your lips, he had considered somewhere deep in his mind possibilities which he had been fantasizing about a few times before, but hadn't thought that they would actually have a change of happening.

In his opinion they were still sinful, it would take a while for him to get used to the idea that you wanted to receive physical affection and love from him. The first impulse when he realized what he had said was instantly apologizing, only to be interrupted before he could even start saying anything.

You had already leaned down to fulfill him his wish before he could take it back again.

[keanureevesisbae]

But professor… - c.9

Summary: Walter and Penny can almost welcome their kid, however Penny starts to become very anxious

Professor!Walter Marshall x Penny Townsend (Asian ofc)

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: Just mentions of punching people

Masterlist // But professor… masterlist // Previous chapter //

I’m thirty weeks pregnant and I know that I have around eight to ten weeks to go, however, this pregnancy has been pretty straining on my back, my pelvis and basically my entire body. Moving around is painful and my mom is over at our place a lot of the time to help me out. I’m thanking the heavens that I am not doing cosmetology school now as well, knowing for a fact that I probably couldn’t keep up at all.

If I’m not sitting on the couch reading, I’m crying because I am sitting in the nursery and think about having a little baby and all the bad things that could happen to them.

Walter is drained from a rough day of patrolling and he plops next to me on the couch. Just like any other day, I barely moved, however he still asks me the question.

‘How was your day, princess?’

‘Boring,’ I mumble. ‘How was yours?’

He simply shrugs, probably because something happened and he doesn’t want me to worry. I rest my head against his chest and without thinking it seems, he places his hand on my stomach. ‘Have they been good to you?’ he asks

‘They sure have been,’ I chuckle. ‘Just hate the fact that I’m practically glued to the couch.’

Walter nods, pressing a kiss on top of my head. I know he worries a lot and therefore confides to my mom, asking her what more he can do to help me out. Walter is being the perfect boyfriend, because even my mom said that he is doing literally all he can to help me out. One night I found him scrolling and searching for tricks to ease the pain and discomfort, though he never lets me in on it.

‘If you’re up for it, we could have dinner,’ he says, ‘somewhere other than our living room.’

‘Where do you want to go?’

‘I don’t know what you’re craving. I’m up for anything.’

‘Pizza?’ I ask. ‘I would really love a Hawaiian Pizza.’

Walter frowns for a second—probably remembering how I told him multiple times that I hate pineapple on pizza—but then he nods. ‘Of course, princess.’

✎ ✎ ✎

We’re sitting at a restaurant across from each other and it’s nice to be out and about again. I mean, I go to town with my parents a lot, I hang out with the ladies from the pregnancy class, but going out with Walter has been a while, especially because he has been working long hours and I’m tired after one trip to anywhere basically.

Walter actually stretched out his leg underneath the table, towards my side, so I can rest my feet on it. Every time I have a crust left, I hand it over to him and with a small smile he accepts them. ‘So,’ I say, ‘I’ve been thinking about a name.’

‘Tell me.’

‘I would say that for a girl we could call her Emma.’

Walter tilts his head. ‘Emma Marshall, sounds cute,’ he says with a smile. ‘You have a name for when it’s a boy?’

I shrug. ‘I don’t know. I actually think they’re a girl.’

He starts to laugh. ‘Why do you think that, princess?’

‘Just a gut feeling,’ I chuckle. ‘What do you think?’

‘I have no idea,’ he says, holding out his hand for me to take. When I placed mine in his, he adds: ‘I actually have a name for a boy. Wanna hear?’

‘Always.’

‘Declan.’

Oh, that’s a lovely name. I don’t think I even know someone who is named Declan. ‘Declan Marshall. That sounds so cute. I absolutely adore it, Walter.’

Walter smiles and gives me a kiss on my hand. ‘We’ll see how we name them.’

‘Yeah,’ I chuckle. ‘Just around ten weeks or less,’ I say. ‘Kinda nervous.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘It’s giving birth, Walter. That’s scary. All these other ladies are so confident and proud of what their bodies can do and all. I mean, sure, that’s awesome, but it also terrifies me.’

‘Understandable,’ he says. ‘I’ll be there for you, every step of the way.’

‘I know,’ I chuckle. ‘It’s just that… I don’t know. With being pregnant, it’s just all a fantasy. With a newborn, it’s the real deal.’

Walter nods, taking in my worries. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘you and I can manage.’

‘You’re being awfully nonchalant about it.’

‘That’s because I need to stay calm for you. Believe me, princess, I’m freaking out on the inside.’

I frown, because that’s the first time he actually told me those words. Usually he says that he cannot wait for this baby to arrive, though it is a little scary every now and then, but saying he is freaking out?

That’s new.

‘What?’ I ask him. ‘Are you serious?’

He nods. ‘I mean, being a parent is difficult. Growing up I didn’t have the love and support I needed. I basically raised myself and judging from the person I am today, I didn’t really do a good job.’

‘You did an excellent job,’ I retort. I know about his youth and how he had to raise himself, how you can still notice it in his day to day life. ‘Walter, please tell me about your worries. You don’t always need to be the protective big bear who prevents me from any harm. I’m a big girl and I need you to confide with me. Please?’

He sighs as he is looking everywhere but to me. This is hard, I can see it, but from the looks of it, he is gonna agree with me. ‘Okay, I’ll try.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Dinner ended not so great. As we were walking back from the restaurant to our car, two guys thought it was necessary to whistle at me (I didn’t even notice at first, but then Walter’s entire demeanor changed, so that’s how I was informed about the matter).

Let’s just say, it evolved into an argument and then one of the guys thought it was an excellent idea to push Walter. I applaud him for having the guts to push my boyfriend, but it was honestly one of the stupidest things for him to do, because Walter wouldn’t be Walter if he punched the guy and his friend.

Multiple times.

I have been ignoring him for the entire drive and once we’re home, I still don’t know what to say to him.

‘Princess,’ he whispers, carefully trying to approach me as I’m sitting on the edge of the bed in his shirt. ‘Please talk to me.’

I purse my lips together, as tears burn in my eyes.

He sits behind me, placing his hands on my upper arms. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says.

‘Sorry for what?’

‘For scaring you. I was just protecting you, darling.’

‘What’s wrong with just ignoring the matter, Walter?’ I ask him, turning to the side so I can look at him without craning my neck. ‘You scared me back there.’

‘I’m not gonna let some dip shit whistle at you, especially not when I’m next to you,’ he defends himself.

‘You’re an officer,’ I tell him. ‘I don’t think this is proper behavior.’

‘I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to you,’ Walter retorts.

‘That’s not the point. The point is you put yourself in danger.’

‘Hardly.’

I glare at him. ‘I don’t like this,’ I say. ‘Have you any idea how stressful it was for me? You know what, never mind. I’m going to sleep.’

He scoots back and I wrap my arms around the pregnancy pillow, with my back towards him. I love Walter, I really do, but this… I saw it all unfolding in front of my eyes.

It would start with an argument, some light pushing, until the other guys would pull out a knife, stab Walter, which would result in a trip to the hospital. Possibility of death. Me having to bury the father of my child.

I push my face in the soft fabric of the pillow, as hot tears slide over my cheeks. Walter sighs deeply next to me and starts to toss and turn next to me. His leg bumps into mine and it causes him to hold his breath. ‘Sorry, Penny,’ he says.

I dry my cheeks on the pillow. ‘Walter,’ I whisper, ‘you know I worry when you go to work.’

‘I know,’ he says, ‘but you don’t need to.’

‘You’re gonna be the father of our kid,’ I continue, ‘and I’d like to raise them with you, not in memory of you.’

‘Princess,’ he whispers, ‘we’re gonna raise this kid and eventual others together. You know, before I met you, I was an adrenaline junkie, detective or not. I got into a lot of shit, hence the reason I was suspended and started teaching. You, my love, made me realize that chasing danger like I used to, is not gonna get me further in life. Now I have you, I have the love of my life here with me and I’m never ever gonna do anything that’ll put me or you or our child in danger.’

‘Then why did you punch him?’

‘Because he started it,’ Walter says, only for him to realize how toddler like that sounds. ‘I just want to protect you against anyone,’ he says in a softer tone. ‘Because I love you, Penelope Townsend. You are my everything.’ He wraps his arm around my upper body, pressing a kiss against my temple. ‘I’m sorry I scared you, Penny. I never meant to do such thing.’

‘I know,’ I whisper. ‘Sorry for overreacting.’

‘No, no, no, you’re not overreacting. Maybe I was.’ He pulls me closer to his own body and places his hand on my stomach. ‘Just know that I will forever protect you and the baby.’

I chuckle. ‘I know that. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid anymore, not when I’m around at least.’

He smiles. ‘I’ll tone it down a notch, princess.’

✎ ✎ ✎

‘Is that that colosseum thing you were talking about?’ Walter gestures towards my chest and I look down, spotting two tiny wet patches near my chest area, before bursting into laughter.

‘Colostrum, Walter, not colosseum.’ Oh dear, he is totally blushing, because of his mistake. ‘Can you grab me another shirt?’

I barely asked the question, when he jumps up and rushes upstairs. I rub my stomach a little bit, slightly scared at how much it expanded. I’m close to the end of my pregnancy, having reached thirty nine weeks yesterday. I wonder how it’ll ever go back to normal.

Walter comes down again and without me asking he changes my shirt. ‘Have I told you I loved you today?’

‘A few times.’ I give him a kiss and whisper: ‘I’m proud of you.’

He frowns. ‘Why are you proud of me? You’re the one growing an entire baby here.’ He carefully places his hands on the side of my stomach. ‘The least I can do is to make things as comfortable for you as possible.’

‘But you always do it without complaining,’ I say. ‘I heard that Stacey’s husband is such a pain in the ass. Always complaining, groaning about how much he has to do nowadays.’

Walter scoffs. ‘Well, pregnant or not, I’d like to worship you, make your life as easy as I possibly can.’ He gives me a kiss. ‘What can I do for you, darling?’

‘Sex,’ I say, before I curl my lips in. Oh gosh, never have I been so straight forward. My cheeks heat up. ‘No, please, forget what I said.’

‘Is my girl asking me for sex?’ Walter starts to laugh. ‘The day Penny Townsend asked me for sex has finally arrived.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I laugh nervously. ‘It’s just been awhile.’ Awhile equals three months. I hate how he sometimes initiates, but I simply shake my head. It’s a combination of a very low sex drive, not feeling pretty and being in pain nearly twenty four seven.

He leans forward and kisses me. ‘Want to go to the bedroom, princess or is the couch acceptable as well?’

‘We can stay here,’ I whisper.

‘Then let me close the curtains and lock the door, okay?’

‘Okay,’ I mumble.

When he comes back, he takes off his shirt, so I can admire his beautiful strong body. There is something so special about Walter. He looks strong enough to left a car up with one arm, but he is a mushy man the second the front door closes and we’re together. He kneels in front of me, pressing open mouth kisses on my lips. ‘Shit, I love you,’ he says against my mouth. He disregards my shirt and admires me.

‘Stop,’ I say, rolling my eyes.

‘No, no, no, I could never stop admiring you.’ He places his hands on my expanded stomach and says: ‘You’re so beautiful.’

He gives me a long kiss and then I whimper. Not out of pleasure, but out of shock.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks me.

‘I think my water broke.’

✎ ✎ ✎

Twelve hours later, I am looking at Walter, who holds the little baby in his strong arms. He sits next to me on the bed and wraps one arm around my shoulders. ‘Penny, princess,’ he says, ‘I don’t think words can describe how proud I am of you and how much I love you.’

I nuzzle my face in his chest. ‘I love you too. Thank you for not freaking out.’

‘Externally freaking out you mean, because on the inside I was fainting,’ he chuckles. He gives me a kiss on my temple. ‘I’m a dad.’

I actually see some tears in his eyes and I cannot stop my own either. ‘I know.’ I place my hand on the little bundle and whisper: ‘We’re officially parents. It’s so surreal.’ I let out a deep and content sigh.

The little baby opens their eyes and I cannot stop my smile.

‘Hi, little one,’ Walter says. ‘Oh no, Penny, we’ve created an exact copy of yours.’

I chuckle. ‘Good luck saying no to him,’ I say. ‘We love you so much, Declan Marshall. So so much.’

[luckychild]

Hey, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the boys responding to hearing “I love you” for the first time - only if you want, of course - you’re blog is awesome :)

I love this prompt (pun intended)! Super cute ask just in time for Valentine’s Day. This turned out to be an x-Reader piece; hope you don’t mind!

(Confession: The Kuwabara scenario is pretty close to how me and my boyfriend confessed to each other. He said ‘I love you’ really early and I came around slower. So that section really means a lot to me.♥ Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! Happy Valentine’s Day!

Warnings/Tags: Some light cursing. SFW. Gender neutral reader. There’s some Yukina/Kuwabara in Hiei’s section.

Hit “Keep Reading” to dive in!

KURAMA

So… Kurama knows how you feel before you drop the L-word.

He’s perceptive! And you keep looking at him askance and biting your lip all cutely, demurring from answering when he asks what’s up.

You’ve been dating for a long time, so it would make sense you’re finally about to say those three little words aloud.

He has a hunch you’re about to admit your feelings, and his hunches are usually right.

So, smarmy fox-boy that he is, he teases you about it a bit before the weeks leading up to your confession.

He’ll sort of murmur your name to get your attention, look deeply into your eyes, then say:

“I love…” [dramatic pause while you hold your breath and your eyes go wide] “... this food we’re eating right now, don’t you?”

And then he’ll act all innocent and pretend not to understand why you just choked on the food he said he loves so much.

He thinks it’s hilarious to watch your face go supernova.

Kurama is low-key an asshole, but that’s why you love him.

But when you actually do work up the nerve to tell him how you feel?

He’s not laughing anymore.

He knows this is serious for you.

He knows that saying ‘I love you’ makes you feel vulnerable, and he won’t devalue this moment by not taking it seriously.

So he doesn’t make any jokes after you say it and stand there looking at him, shaking like a leaf.

He just smiles, pulls you to him, and presses a kiss against your forehead.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your skin—and he only lets you go once he feels you relax against him, relieved to have your affections returned.

HIEI

You know that meme about “alternative responses to ‘I love you’”?

Hiei falls into multiple categories of that meme, cycling through them one by one until he lands on his final reaction.

After you say ‘I love you, he just sort of looks at you. Like, really looks at you with a blank expression on his face, like he can’t quite grasp what he just heard.

And then Hiei laughs.

It’s not a nice laugh.

It’s a throw-back-his head laugh, a harsh bark of sound that makes the hair on your neck stand up.

“You fool,” he spits. “Attachments make you vulnerable. If you’re too blinded by emotion to see that, then you’re not who I thought you were.”

And then Hiei… just kind of vanishes.

You don’t hear from him for a few days, and the hurt you feel is the kind of hurt only someone you truly care for can inflict. It’s proof of your feelings, sure, but…

You spend a lot of time in a glum or agitated mood, because while you knew Hiei wasn’t the most emotional, this wasn’t what you thought would happen when you confessed your love.

Meanwhile?

Hiei’s off training in the woods and attacking trees with 900% more ferocity than usual.

He isn’t sure why he’s in such a foul, vengeful mood at first, but the fact that he can’t get your shattered expression out of his head?

That’s... a hint, he supposes, as to the source of his ire.

Eventually he emerges from the woods and wanders around until he reaches Genkai’s temple, where he spends a good deal of his time when not in the city with you.

Yukina is there (this is part of the reason he goes there a lot, predictably).

So is Kuwabara (this is part of the reason he doesn’t go there all the time, also predictably).

They welcome Hiei into the temple like they usually do, and while Hiei normally leaves as soon as he spots Kuwabara, he allows his sister and her boyfriend to lead him inside for once.

He watches the pair of them cook dinner in silence, observing the way Yukina and Kuwabara talk and laugh with each other, and the way they wordlessly communicate as they work.

It’s… not the worst, he thinks, seeing them together. His opinion on Kuwabara has changed over the years (mostly thanks to you poking him to give Kuwabara a chance) and he knows Kuwabara would give his life for Yukina.

Kuwabara demonstrates exactly this when he opens a cabinet and a heavy pot falls out of the cupboard; Kuwabara leans over Yukina to take the brunt of the blow, sheltering her from harm.

Yukina gasps and grab’s Kuwabara’s arm, inspecting him for damage and fussing over his injury.

But Kuwabara just grins, takes her hand, and asks her if she’s OK.

“I love you,” he tells her when she scolds him for being reckless. “I didn’t want you to get hurt!”

That scene replays in Hiei’s head for a few days afterwards, looping through his head along with the image of your sweet, earnest face when you told him that you loved him.

The image of your shattered heartbreak makes a few appearances, too.

It takes a few more days after that for him to realize something.

Love hadn’t made Kuwabara weak (or any weaker, at least). In fact, love often powered Kuwabara up in fights. It gave him things to protect, a reason for fighting, a purpose for his power—

Hiei goes cold at the realization.

Attachments aren't always signs of weakness.

Attachments can be powerful.

Was he the fool, not you, for rejecting an attachment so quickly?

Hiei suspects he made a terrible error, and the moment he has this realization, he breaks into a run and rushes to your side.

He’s not sure what he’s going to do or say to you to fix things, but he is determined to do exactly that.

Only you can say whether you forgive him or not, though.

KUWABARA

So Kuwabara hasn’t been shy about his feelings for you.

Like… he hasn’t been shy AT ALL.

He sings your praises to anyone who’ll listen.

He tells you you’re gorgeous every single day.

He says he loves everything about you all the time!

It was basically love at first sight for him. (Because that’s just who he is!)

But as for you? It took you a little longer to come around.

It’s not that you disliked Kuwabara or anything.

It’s just that he came on strong and you were a little more cautious about jumping into a relationship than he was, that's all.

And he was totally cool with that!

“Hey, you don’t have to reciprocate!” he tells you when you indicate you don’t feel the same way. “I’d wait for you forever, but if you never like me back, that’s OK, too. I just want you in my life; if it’s as friends, that’s fine, too!”

Your friendship is just as valuable to him as your romantic feelings.

He’s not pushy at all despite his declarations; he’s a gentleman to the extreme, content to love you on your terms and never push for reciprocity.

But after a while, you start to look forward to seeing him.

You start to search for him in crowds, hoping to spot his shock of orange hair.

You start to miss him when he isn’t around, craving his bone-crushing hugs and booming, exuberant voice.

And then one day you see something on TV and it reminds you of him, and you start smiling to yourself as you think about him—and it hits you.

OH NO.

YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM, AREN’T YOU?

But he’s been saying he loves you for AGES… is it awkward that you’re just now ready to say it back?

You argue with yourself for days and days about what to do… but eventually you’re hanging out, and you’re listening to him be his boisterous and enthusiastic self, and it just spills out.

“KUWABARA-I-LOVE-YOU-OK!?” you blurt when he pauses for breath.

But… he doesn't react the way you think he will.

He just stares at you in silence, stunned, and you take that as a bad thing.

You get up to leave, muttering an apology as your cheeks burn, saying you’ll see him later—

His hand darts out and closes around yours.

His face is on FIRE, but he stares up at you in wonder. In awe, even. Like the clouds parted and angels started singing.

“Y-you do?!” he says, voice pitched up quite high, eyes as wide as they can go. “D-do you really? Do you mean it? Do you really love me back?!”

And you start smiling, and you start laughing and nodding, and he laughs too, and then you’re both in a puddle on the floor, arms around each other, just laughing together for the joy of it.

YUSUKE

Yusuke has been wanting to tell you how he feels about you for, uh..

Well. It’s been a long time.

You’ve been dating for a long time, and you’ve been through a lot together, and he can barely even look at you without blushing these days.

He’s been in love with you for a long while, but like hell if he’ll actually admit it.

Yusuke is NOT a mushy person, nor is he very in-touch with his feelings.

In fact, he’d rather take a sharp stick to the eye than ever admit how he feels about anyone.

But when YOU end up saying you love him FIRST, it does something to him.

He freezes. Stares at you. Blue-screens for a second.

And then he falls back on the one thing that has consistently aided him throughout his life:

Snark.

“Well damn, babe,” he drawls with a lazy grin (one that does NOT reflect how rapidly his heart is beating). “I knew I was irresistible, but if you really wanted to get laid, all you had to do was ask.”

You shriek and huff and walk off (and probably swat at his arm, though of course he dodges).

It’s only when you’ve stalked a good dozen meters away that his brain catches up with his mouth and he realizes that he’s fucked up.

Like, really fucked up.

So Yusuke curses and lurches after you and shouts, “Hey, hey, wait a freakin’ second!”

But you don’t stop walking.

You get halfway down the block with him trotting at your heels, telling you to just cool down and let him talk.

Eventually he gets in front of you and holds up his hands.

“Now, now,” he says (nervously; very nervously). “Just give me a chance to—”

NOPE. He ruined what could’ve been a cute moment and you aren’t having it, so you dart around him and keep walking with your head held high (and a tear in your eye).

His arms are around you before you get far, though.

He buries his head in your shoulder and just holds you, and finally you feel it—the way his heart is racing, thudding against your back.

“Look, I… I love you too, OK?” he mutters. “So please don’t go…”

It almost makes you giggle, seeing him blush like this.

Almost, but not quite.

You know how big of a deal it is for him to say those words, so you just hold him right back.

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