#that man had a wretched childhood apparently

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

The Owl House Series Finale Thoughts, part 1

So, now that I’ve had time to vent and gather my thoughts I can say that The Owl House series finale, was a letdown. 

There were strong elements: the animation, the voice acting, the music, all incredible. I do deeply appreciate the hard work and talent the crew brought in making this show and how many people have felt represented and seen by the show’s inclusivity and themes. I feel that this show will be beloved and remembered for a long time.

However, I feel like the show made critical errors that actually undermined what it set out to do. Before I get into my thoughts, let me explain how I got into this show:

I happened to stumble upon the show because it looked neat and heard that the show creator also worked on Gravity Falls, another show I enjoyed. The first season was fun; bright, clever, and you could tell it wanted to tell a larger story with deep and meaningful themes. Season 2A was also fun and it had begun to depict a darker, more mature world. I didn’t think too much of the show, it was just fun, a typical kids’ cartoon show with good storytelling and memorable characters. Nothing really grabbed me about the show.

Until Hollow Mind.

Long-term fans will remember people being disappointed by the episode because they became attached to Fanon Philip that had appeared during the hiatus and we got something completely different in canon. How did this seemingly sweet young man turn into Emperor Belos? Turns out, he’s just a dick. A huge, murderous dick with a hero complex. 

I wasn’t there for Fanon Philip but what drew me to Belos was that in HM, his apparent backstory was in the literal background of the episode and it sparked my imagination. I joined the fandom because, like many, I wanted to know what Belos’ deal was. Many talented and creative people came up with long and compelling theories about the Wittebane brothers, speculation that was further fueled by the grimwalker reveal and Caleb appearing in Belos’ memories in King’s Tide. That speculation grew and people wrote whole fan fics and drew art depicting the trials and troubles of the Wittebanes. 

I became invested in the Wittebanes because their story was so tragic: two orphan boys who grew up in a cult, essentially forced to participate in witch hunts in an adapt-or-be-hanged situation, only for the elder to actually see the error of his ways and leave his younger brother behind, making him think he had been bewitched and that it was his duty to save him. 

We got more scraps of information in Thanks to Them, the most important being how the brothers only had each other and became witch-hunters to fit in. In For the Future, Caleb’s apparition appears--whether a ghost or hallucination is unknown---above his specter is a bloody knife, Caleb stares accusingly at the wretched, shambling remains of his younger brother. Philip lashes out angrily accusing him that it was his fault and that he “tried to save his soul.” This is a highly interpretive scene, and many thought it implied Belos’ deeply buried guilt and how he always lies to himself to justify his actions. All the while, deep down knowing the truth.

With all that in mind, what did we learn in Watching and Dreaming? What made this young man who ventured out to what he thought was literal hell to rescue his brother? His only family? Only to kill him in a fit of madness and spend literal centuries trying to recreate the brother of his childhood, to erase his original sin, all the while descending into madness and depravity?

Turns out he’s a dick. A huge, murderous dick with a hero complex.

“You assume Belos’ goal comes from a genuine place,” the Titan tells Luz. And seemingly the audience because fans wanted to see this story, this foundation to all of the horror and trauma. To understand how a man becomes evil. 

Well, according to the show, he’s just like that. Luz attempts to reconcile Belos’ goal of saving humanity with her own and wonders if their morality is really so different. Silly human, the Titan says. Your goals and motives are genuine, he’s just delusional and evil. So you can take comfort in the fact that your enemies’ goals are just self-serving, but yours are the real deal. 

Sorry but this is lazy.

You can’t say people are complicated and then turn around and say actually, no some people are just delusional and power-hungry and we’ll leave it at that. It seems that, in the universe of The Owl House, only good people are complicated; Lilith cursed Eda because she was desperate to get into the Emperor’s Coven but then she spends the rest of the time trying to cure her sister. Amity bullied Willow, but only because her parents forced them to no longer be friends, Hunter was the emperor’s right hand man, but only because he’s an abused teenager. Meanwhile, the villains of the show don’t have their motives given such depth, they just act in selfish and petty ways because they just are. 

I wouldn’t be bothered by Philip’s flat characterization if the show did not waste so much time giving us hints and clues that there’s actually more to him. What a twist! The villain you thought had greater complexity is just a Standard Villain, how genius! Such clever writing!

If he’s going to be simply a metaphor and not a real character then don’t tease us with a story that suggests otherwise. Keep your story clean and concise. Don’t dangle a potentially amazing storyline that aligns perfectly with the protagonist’s only to yank it away.

This is a waste of the audience’s time and squashes what could have been a wonderfully twisted and dynamic villain. But the show wasn’t interested. It's much easier and more comforting to just say bad people are just bad and never explore why. You could never become the villain because you’re good; don’t bother worrying that you and the villain have the same goals because his aren’t genuine!

 Remember kids, people are complicated. Unless you’re a villain. 

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

A Mouse in a Lion’s Den Pt.13

Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

Warnings: blood

Words: 2118

Summary: A dinner is held to celebrate your pregnancy.

Part 1   Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18

Book One of Heir of Ash and Fire

That old witch had been wrong about everything. She should have known better than to trust that crazy bat that promised her a crown and a king. It all had gone to her sister. Her unworthy sister that didn’t realize just how lucky she was for Rhaegar to give her the time of day.

Why?

The moment she was conceived Joanna had been convinced that the babe was meant for greatness without even seeing her yet. Sometimes Cersei would catch her mother dotingly caressing her swollen stomach and promising her unborn daughter that she would be queen.

Nothing about (y/n) was extraordinary. She had just been a squawking newborn, not beautiful in any way. Oh but how Joanna loved her. For no apparent reason she loved her more than Cersei even though it was Cersei who was the beautiful one. Cersei, the one with the brains and wit even at such a young age-

“I’ve had enough of this!” Cersei growls at her father, slamming down her palms on his work desk. He quirks an eyebrow at her actions, unamused. “I want to go back to Casterly Rock!!”

“Lannisters never run away. No matter how unpleasant the news is.” Tywin watches his eldest child with impassive, pale, eyes. Cersei looked so much like Joanna, except for the fury. The fury was purely her own. Another one of his children had taken after her gentle nature. . .

“What use have we to stay here any longer?! You’re no longer the Hand! There’s no way of me becoming Rhaegar’s bride now! There’s nothing left for us here!”

Yes, things did look bleak. Tywin never had been accustomed to losing. He was a man of strategy. “Sit down, Cersei.”

Her normally pale face was blotched with anger as she forces her bottom onto a cushion. She never thought she would hate it in King’s Landing yet (y/n) ruined that as well. She’s ruined everything ever since the day she was born. That wretched day where Jaime had looked upon his baby sister. Fragile and small. Was that the day she lost Jaime’s favor? No, it couldn’t be. Jaime had always been her’s since the early days of their childhood. Even at the Tourney of Harrenhal, Cersei had still been the center of Jaime’s heart. When she was heartbroken over (y/n) being betrothed to Rhaegar, it was Jaime that comforted her. Jaime that said that she was the queen of his heart.

Everything must have changed recently.

How recent though?

Tywin’s words sounded important, but all Cersei could hear was the sickening beat of her heart.

She couldn’t lose Jaime.

She lost her mother to (y/n) as well as Rhaegar.

(y/n) wouldn’t have Jaime.

As Tywin spoke of his plans for the family, Cersei made plans of her own. (y/n) had ruined her life for the last time.

*

There was a brooding air around your husband lately. You had caught whispers, talks of war between him and Jon Connington. Things you weren’t supposed to hear. When he didn’t think you were paying attention you would catch a glimpse of his weary face. Underneath that youthful beauty was exhaustion. He wore it well though, you would give him that. It melted away when he would see the growth of your belly. At least that was something.

No matter how plagued he was by the secrets he kept, the clouds of his face parted to let out the sun.

With this new melancholy of his, Rhaegar would also be gone hours at a time. You didn’t know where he was when this happened, but could only assume it had to do with the passed whispers him and Jon shared.

War.

You place both hands on your swollen stomach. What did that mean for you and your baby? From listening to your father when he used to be the Hand of King Aerys, you knew that there were different types of war. Yet for Rhaegar to be so concerned you knew it was something big.

“My lady? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the feast tonight?”

Fingers draw weary circles on your temples, you address Thalina “It’ll be fine if I don’t show up right? I’m not feeling up to a feast tonight.”

“But it’s specifically for you!” Thalina exclaimed, slightly outraged.

“Not for me,” you pat your abdomen “for him.”

Huffing, Thalina is already marching to your wardrobe to pick out a dress for you. “Regardless, the king will be there! How would it look if you didn’t show up?”

You shrug. “I’m sure he wouldn’t really care. I don’t know why he’s throwing a feast for us anyway. Everyone knows how Rhaegar lost his favor. Even I’ve heard the rumors that Aerys wants Viserys to be next in line for the throne. And don’t say that he’s doing it out of the kindness of his heart. Even you know that’s complete nonsense.” She knew that she was caught there. Aerys possessed no kindness in his heart. “Well. . . It would be nice for you to get accustomed to the court here. Ever since you got married you’ve either sequestered yourself here in your room with Rhaegar or in the courtyard. You need to show the others that you’re going to be a strong queen. For both Rhaegar and the little prince you carry inside of you.”

Thalina was right. You couldn’t hide away forever. You had to be the queen that Rhaegar deserved. After all, you wanted to be strong and smart enough to survive life at a royal court.

Inhaling deeply you consent. “Alright. Just choose something that won’t suffocate me or smoosh the baby.” Whenever you mentioned your unborn child, an intense wave of warmth would feel your stomach. A giddy smile sparks onto your face as you think about your baby. Your beautiful baby that would look exactly like Rhaegar. No matter what horridness went on around you at least you had the thought of your baby that was growing quickly inside of you.

*

“Your father is growing incredibly suspicious.” Ser Arthur Dayne tells his prince hastily. He had been away for quite some time, trying to rally supporters in secret for Rhaegar. Griff huffs, crossing his arms in a haughty manner. “The Mad King’s always suspicious. What makes this time so different?”

“Everything.” Rhaegar tells his red haired knight, making the man simmer down. “He’s anxious more than ever now that (y/n) is pregnant. Tywin Lannister is still here which doesn’t bode well. He has good reason to be suspicious now. We’ve been able to keep quiet thus far but the stakes are rising.” Weary he runs a hand through his silver hair. It wasn’t safe for (y/n) to be in King’s Landing. He didn’t know what his father would do. Her pregnancy was already so far along though, he couldn’t risk moving her. He should’ve known it months ago. Selfishly though he wanted to keep her by his side. Rhaegar had grown so used to her presence. Being away from her. . .

Pausing at the thought he realized he didn’t even want to finish it. To be without her would be painful. She was what kept him put together. She kept the melancholy away. A warm fluttering sensation made his stomach feel light and for some reason he felt like laughing. How was it that even when she wasn’t near that thinking about her caused him to smile and feel as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Even as his knights argued among themselves he wasn’t worried.

That’s why when he let out a soft chuckle both Arthur and Jon turn their heads and stare incredulously at him. Rhaegar covers his mouth with his hand. “Apologies. Yes, this is very serious. We must start acting quickly if we are to still catch my father off guard. Which, needless to say, is a difficult task. As long as our decoys do as is instructed then his attention should be off of us.”

“Do you think it’s still wise to be trusting Tywin?” Frowning, Jon crosses his arms across his chest. “Someday he might use this as leverage.”

“He is my father-in-law and the man is guaranteed some trust. . .” sighs Rhaegar although it was the last thing he wanted to do. Not even (y/n) trusted her own father which said a lot. But Tywin Lannister was smart and calculating. Of course Rhaegar wouldn’t be chummy with him, rather keep a close eye. They did say to keep your enemies close. And with someone like Tywin Lannister it was best to hold their hand rather than stray away.

The one thing he was concerned with most was (y/n). He needed to get her out of King’s Landing before all hell broke loose. It would be best if he were able to move her into a nearby town that wasn’t too far of a journey.

“Arthur, how quickly can you acquire a place for (y/n)?”

*

What else could you expect the banquet to be? Everyone acted so happy for you but deep inside you could see the mirror of their words. At least Rhaegar had been there for you. Surprisingly you had enjoyed yourself. The food had been marvelous as had the music that you couldn’t help but dance with Rhaegar when he offered you his hand. You weren’t as graceful as he was, even before your belly had swelled so that it kept him at a distance rather than flushed against you. When you were with him you didn’t care if you looked akin to a mule kicking up dirt with his hoof. Even Tyrion had been allowed to attend, although he was incredibly self-conscious of the many eyes that stared at him. You tried to take his mind off of them by dancing with him and simply making him happy.

It was starting to get hard for you to get comfortable in your bed as your belly grew. Trying not to make too much noise you shift your body to face a slumbering Rhaegar. Smooth eyelids closed to allow his dark lashes to kiss his cheeks. Such beautiful cheekbones he possessed that sloped down to his chiseled jaw. Wild hair splayed all over his pillow like silver water. Full lips parted slightly as he dreamed of sweetness. He had had fun today too. You don’t recall ever seeing him smile so much and laugh so easily. At least not in a while. Something had been bothering him as of late and a dark part of you assumed it had to do with Lyanna.

Eyes dart over to his large desk where he kept his letters. Ever since he received that letter from Lyanna you had been dying to read it. What did she say?

You regard your sleeping husband for a moment, making sure he was truly deep in the arms of slumber.

“Rhaegar?” You whisper. He didn’t move or even indicate that he was a little bit awake. Satisfied you shimmy to the side of your bed and slide off. You take a candlestick from the side of your bed and light it, illuminating the way to Rhaegar’s desk. The curiosity was too much to bear.

Each step you took felt like the dull thud of your heart as you tried to keep your wits with you. What would Rhaegar think if he caught you sneaking around his personal belongings? You had never done anything like this before. It wasn’t in your nature to skulk around.

Your fingers brush against the brass handle of one of the desk drawers, holding your breath in your throat as your other hand placing the candlestick on the smooth surface. It might kill you to read what Lyanna wrote to Rhaegar. What if they were still having their emotional affair? It had been bad enough finding out about his affections for her, but what if they still lingered?

As you were about to slide the drawer open a stabbing pain pierced through your stomach and made you incredibly nauseous. You keel over, landing harshly on your knees, holding onto your abdomen as it felt like your insides were being ripped to shreds. Your breathing was hard as you tried to cry out for Rhaegar. You didn’t need to though. The violent sounds of you vomiting was enough to trigger him awake.

He instantly rises from his bed and rushes to your side. “(y/n)?!!”

Your eyes strained to look up at his pale face, but only fell to the floor. The light from the candle was enough to illuminate the massive red pile on the floor that you had expelled.

Blood.

--------

TAGLIST:

@esposadomd​

@ladybug0095​

[wretchedanddivinee]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wretchedanddevine's masterlist ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Hello everyone, my names wretched ! I decided to make a masterlist mostly to keep track of my fics and wip's :) if you have any questions my ask's are open !

⋆｡‧˚ʚ currently ongoing works... ɞ˚‧｡⋆

i know what it's like to chase flying by renaming the fall. 6/? [snarrymort]

Because the one thing Albus didn't account for, was Harry becoming Master of Death. He didn't account for Harry learning about Tom Riddle left in an orphanage during WW2, where he was believed to be possessed by the devil. Severus Snape in a house with Tobias Snape, a man who hurt Severus, who abused him for his magic and a mother who could not (would not) leave her husband. He did not account for Harry's will to live, for his vindictive streak. Tags include: Time Travel, Master of Death Harry Potter, Moral Ambiguous Characters, Morally Grey Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Ginny Weasley Bashing

scarcely can speak from my thinkin' 3/? [snarry, theville]

Neville didn't know how it happened, one moment he's furious and grieving the loss of one of his best friends at the battle of Hogwarts; All he can see is red as he cuts off the head of Voldemort's pet snake. The next he's waking up, that moment in the battle feeling like a fuzzy memory; It makes no sense, yet when he looks around he can see the telltale signs of his childhood bedroom *** Harry knew where he was the moment he regained consciousness, the very air itself felt different, the lack of magic was apparent. He was back in his cupboard, he knew he was coming here, but that didn't change the intense mix of emotions being back here brought up. If Death was to be believed though, he wouldn't be in the Dursley's care long enough for it to matter; For today was the day he was to receive his Hogwarts letter, only a week before his birthday. Tags Include: Time Travel, Master of Death Harry Potter, Slytherin Harry Potter, Heir of Slytherin, Black, Potter and Peverell Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter are Godbrothers, Dark Harry Potter, POV Harry Potter, POV Neville Longbottom, Anxious Neville Longbottom, Anxiety

all i've ever done is hide 1/? [gen]

Severus has lived life on a precarious tightrope, constantly pushed and pulled between two masters, never knowing peace. What happens when after Albus’ revelation, and subsequential death, he decides that enough is enough? What happens when he decides the risk to Harry's life is not worth the reward? He finds a way, nay- makes a way- to go back in time, of course. Tags Include: Time Travel, Severitus, Severus Snape Adopts Harry Potter, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape are Siblings, Severus Snape-centric, Kidfic

laugh when it sinks in 1/? [snarry]

For the last time the Goblet turned green pulsing bright and ominous, sparks flashed and the stream of light left the last piece of paper to float down into Dumbledore's open hand. "The Hogwarts champion is," Dumbledore pauses a beat longer than when he had announced the previous Tournaments champions, his eyes scanning the paper and then flying towards Severus. A feeling of unease washes over him in that moment, because there is absolutely no way— "Severus Snape." Distantly Severus is aware of the sound of clapping and hollering in the background, but he can't really hear it. All he hears is s̴̘̣͍̦͑̒̓̃͆̓t̷̥̑͛ā̷̢̮͇͓̝̇̆̽̽͂t̶͎͓̠͙̹͐̔̒̿̌̍i̸̲̙͖͍̰̍̎c̵̯̜̳̬̫͂̍̓̆ Tags Include: Time Travel, Dimension Travel, Marauders Era, 1976, Alternate Universe - 1970's, Triwizard Tournament, Triwizard Tournament Hogwarts Champion is a Slytherin, Triwizard Tournament Happens Differently, Professor Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter, Sugar Daddy Harry Potter, Young Severus Snape, Role Reversal, Post-Sirius Black's Prank on Severus Snape, Severus Snape-centric, POV Severus Snape

𐙚⋆.˚ one-shots ―୨୧⋆ ˚

it's better the hell we choose than the heaven where we were born wrong. 1/1 [gen, lucissa]

a fic based on plushybuttons headcanon on tumblr. "Narcissa and Lucius tried to sneak a first-year Severus Snape into Hogsmeade by making him cling to Narcissa's torso and hide him under her cloak. She claimed she was pregnant to Slughorn before they were about to leave. Severus lost his grip and fell out of her cloak. "Oh," Narcissa said, "I have given birth." "He looks just like us." Lucius chimed in. Snape was not snuck into Hogsmeade." except in this one he gets to go into Hogsmeade because I want some happy fluffy family feels. Tags include: Young Severus Snape, Young Narcissa Black Malfoy, Young Lucius Malfoy, Marauders Era, Fluff, Family Fluff, Family Feels, Hogsmeade, Family Bonding

a prayer in perfect piety 1/1 [snack, wolfstarprince]

He wanted to lay an alter at the feet of Severus and pray like the sinner he was. Pray that everything he had done would be paid back in kind, and then maybe he could rest with their relationship built anew. He didn't know what would come of it, but he knew that he would never be the same.  Tags include: POV Sirius Black, Severitus, Lily Potter Evans & Severus Snape are Siblings, Sirius Black Free from Azkaban, Canon Divergence

That's all I've posted so far on ao3 ! Its a lot of Harry Potter right now but I'm actually in quite a few fandoms !

More works to come in the following fandoms at some point (bc i am a multifandom trash panda):

anime

assassination classroom bnha/mha death note haikyuu one piece yuri on ice!!

dcu

batman/batfam superman/superfam flash justice league

mcu

agents of shield ironman/avengers daredevil spiderman venom xmen

movies

harry potter the hobbit the old guard twilight

tv shows

atla criminal minds good omens hannibal hawaii 5-0 merlin ncis sherlock stranger things suits teen wolf the witcher 9-1-1

i am also a multishipper but i do have my fav ships, if you wanna talk about them shoot me an ask !

[roppongi-division]

Mireya's Thoughts on Suginami Division

Ryuko Umemoto

"I'll admit, I didn't recognize this guy until my husband revealed he was part of the Yakuza group a few years ago who was trying to shut us down. Normally, being part of any sort of gang would be enough for me to despise you. I've little love for gang violence, Yakuza, or anything in-between. As I mentioned before, Kito Sakura over in Shizuoka is about as much as I can take, and that's mainly due to Reika-san."

"Anyway, like I said, being a Yakuza is enough for me to dislike you normally. ...But strangely enough, I don't feel that way about this guy. I don't know if it's because of his older brother, who's one of my son's teachers, or if it's because he's turned his life around and is no longer part of that life. I'll admit, when Kai told me he was an animator now, I had to do a double-take. A Yakuza-turned-animator? Sounds too good to be true. But when he showed me some of the work he's done, I had to admit, he had talent."

"So... yeah, like I said, I'm glad this guy has made the decision to turn his life around. I'm not saying I care for him or his past, and I certainly wouldn't invite him over for dinner. But it's good that that was just one dark part of his life. Hopefully, things will get better for him."

Maki Umemoto

"I've only met Maki-san a few times at several PTA meetings. Zakari tells me that, much like Rosho-sensei, he doesn't really do well with crowds, unfortunately. Of course, I'm not going to demean either man because of their shortcomings. So long as they manage to give my son the modicum of education he needs to succeed in society, then I've no problem with either of them."

Shuu Edogawa

"Ugh, my husband has far greater patience than me when it comes to this loathsome individual. When I received word that he was snooping around my club for the past week and a half, I knew something about him wasn't right. Eventually, I had enough and had security bring him to my office where my husband and I confronted him. I demanded to know why he was skulking around, and he revealed that he was a private investigator, which confirmed my suspicions."

"In case you didn't get it, I have a deep loathing for any sort of investigator, detective, generally, anyone who goes around snooping where they don't belong. Why? Because ever since I was young, I've had to put up with these individuals my entire life thanks to my mother. Almost every month she paid top dollar for these guys to come and do detective work on each one of her ex's, to see if they were cheating on her or not. It was... it was just a waste of privacy to have those guys come in and inspect everything. It was one of the things I hated about my life, and my mother." Mireya shakes her head.

"Anyway, apparently he was searching for a lost teenage girl who her mother had hired to bring her back. Hearing the girl cry about not wanting to return home because she found her home life stifling and her mother, overbearing... well, it brought back a lot of memories from my own childhood. I paid that pink-haired investigator twice as much as his client was offering him and told him to leave the girl and her boyfriend alone. I also warned him not to show his face in my club again unless it was for 'entertainment purposes only'. If not, he was going to be denied at the door."

"I haven't seen hide nor tail of that wretch since then. And I am not at all sad about that."

Sazanka Zombeez

"Much like my husband said, I'm not sure exactly what to say about this team. They're original, especially as far as their name goes, but... well, they're original, as I said. As for the members: I'm neutral when it comes to the leader, and Maki-sensei seems to be alright. But that investigator of theirs? I'm not sparing him nothing if we meet in this tournament. Nothing personal, but consider everything I say and do to you my way of releasing all my pent-up frustration from people like you have caused me and others throughout my childhood."

[madhogthymaster]

Mickey Mouse and Horror Cash Grabs: A Reasonable Explanation

Some of you might be wondering, why?

Why is the Mouse getting the Rated-R treatment as soon as Disney's clutches on its inkblot corpse had lessened? For that matter, why was that the case for Winnie the Pooh and his own ill-conceived yet financially successful outing? Is that really all that we, as a society, nay, as people, can accomplish creatively with one of the most historically significant and influential icons in pop culture? Is there a reason for any of this, besides the obvious one? Well, I may be able to offer a reasonable explanation and it's not necessarily as simple as it might seem: this is about trademark issues. Specifically, how to deal with a notoriously litigious mega-company and the perception of its brand. Yes, this will be an essay.

Now, I must preface that I am neither a lawyer nor an expert in trademark laws. This is mere speculation based on what I know and understand about Disney, its modus operandi, the key difference between the ownership of a work of fiction and a commercial entity.

As we all know, the whole public domain business applies specifically to the 1928 shorts (Plane Crazy, The Gallopin' Gaucho and, naturally, Steamboat Willy) but if you're going to use that version of Mickey Mouse for profit, you must be sure that it won't remind the audience, in any way, shape of form, of Disney's family friendly brand. The character's design and the project in which it is used must not look "similar" to Disney's trademarked content or you might incur the ire of its army of lawyers, getting Cease and Desist-ed into oblivion, and so on. As established, Disney is notoriously litigious. This is the corporation that picked a fight with daycare hospitals for having its characters painted on their walls. This is the company that sent a "copyright strike" to a grieving father for the "crime" of adorning his deceased child's grave with a Spider-Man picture.

Its stranglehold on its "precious playthings", regardless of what enters public domain or not, is as tight as Death's grip on our collective testicles. Mickey Mouse is a brand, first and foremost, which means it's a registered trademark, which means that it will be owned by this company for as long as it will be in active commercial use. Now, you've got Steamboat Willie in the public domain. You can use that for profit but you cannot market it to audiences as "Disney's Willie", so to speak. What do you do? The answer is, you put out in the world something that's the diametric opposite to the public perception of the child-friendly Mouse, something the corporation will have no interest in pursuing legally for fear of association: a horror film/game.

Disney hates to put its name on non-family friendly "spooky" materials starring its beloved legacy characters, as evidenced by the disdain for unique Mickey Mouse outings such as The Mad Doctor (1933) and the brilliant Runaway Brain (1995), the former entering public domain long before Steamboat Willie and the latter being generally buried. They "damage" the brand, you see... Unlike blocking a parent from mourning his deceased son, apparently. Clearly, they have their priorities figured out!

As such, a horror film using familiar iconographies placed in an unfamiliar scenario would be the easy way to go about it, theoretically. It will most likely get away with any potential legal trouble. Furthermore, it is a point of fact that audiences do have a morbid fascination for dark interpretations of childhood favourites which all but guarantees a good financial return. Now, that is not to say that wretched Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey was suddenly a valid artistic achievement in retrospect and it certainly does not mean the many, upcoming Mickey-related "big time commercial projects" are anything but lazy, cheap, cash-grabs - because they are. However, I do believe there is more to the story.

At the end of the day, these projects aren't simply a way for some people to make easy money off of a well-known property, they are the SAFEST way for people to make money off of a well-known property. Oh how sweet is that low-hanging fruit.

---

A/N:

If you are curious about about Disney and the history of American copyright laws then I recommend this article: https://www.wionews.com/opinions-blogs/how-disney-routinely-exerted-influence-on-the-us-copyright-law-to-keep-its-greatest-asset-mickey-mouse-549141

Also, consider following me on YouTube and Twitter. I recently put out a podcast that covers the subject of Mickey and public domain.

This article was inspired by this post: https://www.tumblr.com/askmovieslate/739857268511768576/why-i-mean-seriously-if-you-have-access-to-such?source=share

[gunkreads]

Hater mode, engage: (negative Harry Potter takes incoming)

The Harry Potter game thing is funny to me specifically because I am like... THE generation that should be obsessed with it. I quite literally grew up reading them and I did develop a significant amount of my early reading comprehension skills from them. Then, at a certain point around when the 5th book came out, I realized that I genuinely could not fucking care less about them. I still finished them because people slapped the books in front of me as soon as they came out and I had nothing better to do, but about the halfway mark of the series left me thinking "what the fuck is all this for?" and never provided an answer.

Today, I exclusively think about Harry Potter when someone else makes me. I try not to hold any active derision to people who still like it, but again, if I, a fantasy-loving guy who grew up as the books were coming out, have literally ZERO attachment to them, I just... don't get it. They're just a blank spot to me. I could tell you a good chunk of what happens in them, but none of it mattered to me.

The point here is that a... secondary acquaintance who's like 2-3 years older than me is apparently a HUGE HP fan, to paraphrase "because her childhood sucked and that's how she got through", and is very excited about the new game. I genuinely just... how? I know you've moved on, read better books--her favorite author is Terry Pratchett for christ's fucking sake--so how the fuck are you still latched on to this? I mean, hell, I still have rose-colored glasses for Eragon, but I'm not going BACK to it! If they released an Eragon game next year I'd probably sue the publishers for emotional assault and battery!

After about the age of 13, I realized that Harry Potter had one of the absolute lamest takes on magic possible and that I could find more interesting and cool magic in just about any other children's fantasy. By that time, I was already moving on to YA and adult fantasy, so HP just... disappeared from my brain. It's genuinely unfathomable to me that people actually hung on to it. Again, I get rose-colored glasses, but aren't you done? Aren't you tired of hearing all the same names and places for over a decade since the series finished? Man, sure, keep writing the fanfiction and making the art or whatever, but... can we cool it on the multimillion dollar franchise resuscitation? Can we just this once not let the nostalgia take over?

You may notice I didn't mention Rowling's name. This is because she's a wretched and broken waste of oxygen; other people have written more eloquent breakdowns of the generalized and focused bigotry in her ideas and in her books than I can.

The point of this post is just to express disbelief that anyone still manages to find $60-70 worth of care for Harry Potter anymore. Not going to tag it because 1: go ahead and have your fun, 2: I'm juuuuuuust smart enough to not actively dance in a burning building.

[granhairdo]

i have been having the most fucking weird dreams lol. like last night i dreamt i was a fancy restaurant with my mom and i were talking to this stranger (an old man) and he asked me if i “knew what was going on” whatever the hell the meant. to which i didn’t respond to, my head slumped over and i slowly sunk to the floor, my mind blank. my mom grew worried, and slightly upset with me. to which i exclaimed loudly and emotionally that i had “shut down”

my mom laughed but with concern and grabbed my sister (who looked like a much younger version of herself, about 8) who had not been here before and told me we’d best go out shopping instead. she clutched my sister and left the restaurant. she stood at the little desk at the front. and i was still at the table. all I can remember was my heart pounding SO fast as i absolutely RAN through that restaurant to my mom and sister. I busted down tables and was screaming and crying begging to see them even though they were only a couple feet away from me. i eventually got to them and I was just screaming and crying and I held onto my moms leg, still just WAILING.

we walked out of the restaurant to this strange little sidewalk that led to a shopping center. as we walked down the sidewalk, I held my head down low and slowly sunk to the ground like earlier as my mom smiled saying she had such a good time at that restaurant. I did (and still do) feel absolute gnawing guilt feeling like i completely ruined that time at the restaurant and I could picture us home, my mom screaming at me stuff my dad used to.

we then arrived at this shopping center. a strange old white building with bluish teal accents. it’s completely empty and smells like those wretched old mental hospitals I spent my childhood in. my heart rate speeds up again and i absolutely lose it. I start running through this whole building, hitting stuff, screaming, crying, just running SO FAST. I then dropped to the floor and had some sort of seizure, but still aware of my surroundings, and still just crying and crying and crying.

as I run, an announcement comes over the grainy intercom that a child is missing. I do not notice. i just keep running until i immediately run and grab my moms leg, terrified, shaking and crying out to her like a baby.

in front of us suddenly stands a young woman, clutching a baby who begins screaming at me and my mom because i apparently was the one who took her child earlier. this makes me start wailing again because i would never do that. the woman exclaims that it’s not beyond some “psychotic madwoman” like me to do something like that. she continues screaming that I’m hysterical and insane. my mom starts defending me saying I would never do such a thing. then my alarm wakes me up. I’m shaking, my heart pounding, and SO MUCH SWEAT on my body

so yeah um what the fuck

[wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey]

Scarlet Heart Ryeo: Episode 14 Part 1 (Spoilers)

ASDFGHJKL WHAT IS WITH THE TIME SKIPS LIKE WHAT HAS HAPPENED IN TWO YEARS I CAN’T WHAT

Well Hae Soo looks like she is in a place of honor at the Damiwon? So good? AND SHE HAS HER SERVANT GIRL AGAIN WHO IS ADORABLE AND SWEET!!!

Wook go away I don’t want you here. Wait what the freak is he saying? So looks upset.

AH MY SWEET BAEK AH AND HIS LADY!!! SHE HAS RETURNED TO HIM!!!! OTP!!! LOOK AT THAT BEAUTIFUL HUG!

Won is fudging creepy why is he still here, what did Wook say he was helping him lay the trap for Yo? What the heck

Yeah Moo is gonna die soon I can feel it

D'awwww Baek Ah brought Soo a bday present! And So apparently has not so Baek Ah is dragging him all over the place and Soo helps!!! Omg

OMG OMG WHAT THE HECK WANG SO IS OUTSIDE SOO’S DOOR HOWLING LIKE A WOLF LIKE WHAAAAT THE SILLY DORK I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY LIKE THIS IS RIDICULOUS AND HILARIOUS BUT ALSO HEARTWARMING BECAUSE HE HAS BEEN CALLED A WOLF OR WOLF DOG AND THAT HAS HURT IN THE PAST BUT NOW WHEN SOO IS INVOLVED IT HAS BECOME SOMETHING LIGHTHEARTED?!?!?!?! I LOVE. THIS. SHOW!!! AND SOO DOESN’T COME OUT IMMEDIATELY AND SO TURNS TO LEAVE AND HE SCRATCHES THE BACK OF HIS NECK LIKE HE MUST THINK HE IS AN IDIOT AND IS KIND OF EMBARRASSED

SO IS BEAUTIFUL AND HANDSOME AND A CUTIE AND MUST BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS

SHE WALKS OUT AND HIS SMILE!!! “You sounded like you were choking on a rice cake.” OMG I AM CRACKING UP I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING AND HE HOWLS AGAIN AND YIPS LIKE A LITTLE PUPPY HE IS SUCH A DORK I LOVE HIM I WANT ONE

THEY GO FREAKING STARGAZING WHAT IS THE BEAUTIFUL SHIP

Ugh no FEELS. Soo tells So stories if the stars and he says he was once super jealous of Jung because he saw their mom telling him a story and now it is angst time. Murder angst cupcake indeed

But A AHHH “WHEN I AM AROUND YOU ALL MY PROBLEMS SEEM TO BECOME LIGHTER” AAAAHHHHHHH

Lol he just wants a kiss and she says no ask and asks and she just pushes his mouth away with her hand and he kind of rolls his eyes and I just–GIRL IF THAT WAS ME I WOULD BE LIKE GO FOR IT DUDE OMG. HOW CAN YOU DENY THAT FACE THAT LOVE THAT MAN KISS HIMMMMM

BAAAAHHHHH AND THEY JUST TEASE EACH OTHER AND HE LIES BACK AND IS PEACEFUL AND SMILING AND WANTS TO GO THE PRAYER TOWER TOGETHER?!?! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

I FREAKING CAN’T STAND WOOK’S FACE ANYMORE AT LEAST WEAR AN ACTUAL MASK SO EVERYONE KNOWS THAT YOU ARE A LYING HYPOCRITICAL TREACHEROUS SCHEMING SLIMY WORM

Wook HOW CAN YOU STAND THERE AND WATCH/MAKE YOUR MOO SUFFER LIKE THAT YOU DISGUST ME

Whatever Wook has done to Moo has a made the poor man go insane. And his poor kid? He is trying to marry her off? For “safety”? :(

A AHHH POOR SO IS HAVING FLASHBACKS

W.T.F. WHAT WAS EVIL QUEEN DOING? IT LOOKED LIKE SO WAS TIED UP ON A BUILDING AND ARCHERS WERE SHOOTING UP AT HIM WITH FLAMING ARROWS?????? WHAT THE FLIP. MY POOR SON ENDURED HORRORS…AND NOW HE CANNOT BEAR TO LET A LITTLE CHILD SUFFER LIKE HE HAS. HE WILL NOT LET MOO’S DAUGHTER BE A HOSTAGE

WAIT WHAT

MOO WHAT ARE YOU DOING

MOO

HE WANTS SO TO MARRY HIS DAUGHTER?!?!?!?!

DRAT IT AND I THINK SOO IS FINALLY READY TO LET SO IN? SHE IS WEARING THAT HAIRPIN…SHE IS GORGEOUS. SOO WALKS UP AND SEES THE PIN HE IS SHOOK BUT ALSO LOOKS LIKE HE IS ABOUT TO CRY THIS IS THE WORST

AND NOW HE IS PLAYING LIKE HE WASN’T GONNA ASK HER ANYTHING IMPORTANT LIKE HER HAND IN MARRIAGE AND IT HURTS BOTH OF THEM I HATE THIS SHOW UGGGGHHHH

BUT NOW THEY ARE ROWING ON THE WATER AND I AM CRYING CUZ SO IS LIKE SIMULTANEOUSLY TRYING TO SAVOR EVERY MINUTE OF HER PRESENCE AND ALSO LIGHTEN THE SITUATION AND BE FUNNY AND SOO IS JUST LIKE NOT HOW I EXPECTED THIS DAY TO GO

MY HEART! SO SAYS THE BOAT IS HIS FAVORITE THING IN THE PALACE AND SOO SAYS HE IS NEVER IN IT AND SO SAYS “If I do something I like too much, I might not want to leave the palace.” MY HEART. THIS BOY IS SO USED TO LOSING THINGS AND PEOPLE HE LOVES AND NEVER GAINING THEM.

AND SOO: “I was thinking what it must be like to turn away from something you like.” *cue smile* “If was also thinking what a relief it is that you don’t have to do that anymore.” GIRL WHY DO YOU HAVE TO ACCIDENTALLY SAY THE THING THAT HURTS THE WORST MY HEART IS SHREDDED BECAUSE SO’S IS

AGGGGH SO TALKS TO JI MUNG AND NAMES ALL THE REASONS WHY HE SHOULD MARRY HIS HALF-BROTHER’S DAUGHTER BUT ASKS IF THIS MEANS HE IS JUST BACK TO BEING A DOG ON A LEASH I CAN’T THIS HURTS

Also side note my aesthetic is So being ridiculously happy with Soo BUT it is ALSO So standing against a dark and cloudy night sky while angsting

Lol Soo is giving Jung and Eun’s wife a spa day and Baek Ah is fReaKING out because Soo is using his bday gift on Jung

ANNND Eun walks in at the wrong time oops

AWWWW DRAT EUN WHY DID YOU HAVE TO SPILL THE BEANS HAVE YOU NO FILTER

SO SAYS SOO CAN HATE AND RESENT HIM. AAAHHHHH HAH SHE SAYS NO YOU MADE NO PROMISE AND HE SAYS HE HAD SAID HE WOULD TAKE HER OUT OF THE PALACE AND SET HER FREE AND THAT “EVERYTHING HE SAID WAS A PROMISE” I AM DYING I HATE THIS SHOW HOW COULD IT HURT MY ANGELS LIKE THIS

FREAKING COMMUNICATE AND TELL SOO WHY

“Whatever the reason I broke your trust and that doesn’t change.” I CANNOT

Also side note y'all know what the loser Wook would do if he got himself in this situation. Wait lol no he would never be in this situation. Because while he might have squirmed on the inside and wished that Moo would not send his daughter off to be married to some outsider he would have done nothing, and he also would never have entertained the idea of giving up Soo for safety of the little girl. This, friends, is why So is precious and a good man and a hero and the love of my life

UGH THO I HATE THIS SHOW

[ladyramora]

Hi um first timer, I want to say Iove your works. Um may I request for the Elezen husbands ( Aymeric, Haurchefant, Estinien) hc for wherein WoL gets hurt and goes into a coma for a few days. I am curious how will they act during the coma and when the Wol wakes up

......

....

...

"Estinien, please," Aymeric sighs on the third day of the Warrior of Light's ongoing coma, rubbing his temple with two fingers as he nursed a strong cup of heavily syruped tea in his other hand. His head obviously ached something fierce and Estinien's constant back and forth pacing was only agitating him further.

"Why haven't they woken yet?" Estinien growls, ignoring Aymeric's plea and he practically wears a hole in the floor with his boots still on that Aymeric had told him more than three times now to bloody well take off if he was going to walk back and forth like that.

Haurchefant, sat by their hero's sickbed, ignores the bickering of the other two elezen. His focus solely for the warrior that lay still and quiet under so many layers of blankets with pillows stacked plump and high under their head. He gazes into their face and feels wretched that he had not been by their side when this happened.

He holds their hand in his, his fingertips grazing the scars that still lingered on their palm and fingers — scars that matched his own where a blade of aether had pierced him—and lowers his head to kiss along their hand. "Dear heart," he murmurs pleadingly, "will you not wake soon?"

His hero had moved so quickly that day in the Vault. He'd not even seen them move when his shield had given under the strain and ultimately broke. The warrior catching and holding fast in their hands that deadly blade of energy — with all that force and power behind it — just as it grazed him. Haurchefant had watched, shocked and with blazing light blinding him as his friend, his hero snapped the blade in two and tossed it aside like rubbish. It had looked effortless at the time, but Haurchefant knew it had not been. They'd still the scars to prove it even after being seen to by so many capable healers. Twas a miracle it had not sliced clean through their lovely hands.

"Will you stop it with the kissing?" Estinien grouses. Done apparently with his pacing and come now to stand over the bed to stare at Haurchefant and the unconscious champion. "This is not some faerie story. Your kiss won't wake sleeping beauty."

Haurchefant does not bother responding negatively to the azure dragoon's words, knowing that the man was only lashing out because of his overwhelming feelings. Estinien embraced anger and used it as a weapon more readily than taking a long look at his own feelings. Feelings that he, too, must have for the hero who had yet to wake for the third day. Haurchefant could not blame him for such, but he would not respond in kind. The days of letting his anger control him were behind him now, best left in his childhood where he had control over nothing, not even himself.

"Should we try taking turns, then?" The Lord of Camp Dragonhead says with mild humor, sitting upright and stretching his aching back against his less than comfortable chair. Estinien scowls at him, but Haurchefant only chuckles. He turns his head to look at the lord de Borel who was stationed at the only desk in the room, diligently doing paperwork even as he stayed here along with them to keep watch over the Warrior of Light.

"What say you, Ser Aymeric?"

Aymeric glances up, the feather of his quill pausing where it was brushing thoughtfully over his bottom lip. His eyes are tired, the artful arrangement of his gently curling hair mussed from running his hands through it. "Hmm? What was that, lord Haurchefant?"

Haurchefant musters as mischievous and cheeky a grin he could manage after three days of fretting at their hero's bedside. "Will you not kiss sleeping beauty awake? If any of us is closest to a prince, surely it must be you."

Aymeric arches his eyebrows up, shaking his head even as a smile quirked at his lips. Being friends with lord Haurchefant's eldest brother Artoirel, he was well used to the oddities of the middle Fortemps brother. "Nay, I would not dare to take such liberties as stealing a kiss from someone I hold so dear. At least, not without first asking their permission."

Haurchefant inclines his head thoughtfully. Stroking his thumb along his dear, sleeping friend's hand. "I suppose you have the right of it. It would be unbecoming of a knight to act so uncouth. I should ask their forgiveness when they wake."

Aymeric only smiles. "For how taken they are with you, I doubt they will mind at all." It was quite a common sight to see lord Haurchefant reach for the hero's hand, and they never did deny him. Aymeric wished he, too, could be so bold as the Fortemps knight. Propriety had been ingrained in him from a young age, unfortunately. Though he and Haurchefant were cut of a similar cloth as bastard sons, House de Borel had been as strict in raising him as they had been kind.

Estinien is the one who seems to reach the end of his tether first. The other two knights taken entirely aback as the Azure dragoon leans over the hero, his pale hair hanging loose to curtain around them as he grasps their shoulders and shook them less than gently, "Wake up!"

Aymeric leaps from his seat, appalled. "Estinien!"

Haurchefant, too, lurches upright. "How dare you? Unhand them, Ser Dragoon," he says in a voice like sharpened steel.

Their worry unnecessary, it seemed, as the hero groaned and... turned over. Burying their face in a luxuriously plump pillow as they grumbled at the azure dragoon in an exhausted almost whine, "M'tired, Estinien!"

The three knights gazed at them, mouths agape.

Then Estinien barked a laugh, proceeding to shake them more by bouncing the bed around them, "No more sleeping. Get up! Get up, hero!"

They mumble something into their pillow not suited to polite company that sounds suspiciously close to, "You suck! Piss off!" but they do raise their head to blink at the knights all gathered around their bedside blearily. "...Am I dreaming," they ask in a sleep raspy voice, "Or are you all in my bedroom?"

Haurchefant cracks a painful grin. Relief blooming warm and bright in his chest, the swell of emotion so much that it moved him to tears. "Oh, dear heart," he murmurs, teardrops glimmering on his eyelashes. "Fury be praised! You're awake!"

The hero blinks. "Good morning? What are you all doing here?"

Haurchefant laughs. "Yes, well, good afternoon 'tis more like."

Surprise shows on their face, plain to read. Afternoon? Had they slept so long?

Aymeric comes to join the others at their bedside, sitting down beside them with a regal swishing of his blue cloak. "You have been sleeping here at de Borel Manor for three days, my dear," the lord de Borel informs them gently as he reached out to smooth the wrinkles in their bedding that pooled over their lap. Naught more than an excuse to reach out and make contact. With Estinien sat on one side and Haurchefant with a chair pulled up at the other, Aymeric situates himself near their legs.

They stare blankly, blinking owlishly. "Three days? Oh..." Their hand raises up to touch their head, then presses to their body where they were certain they had been wounded. "I was fighting, and then..."

"—You almost died," Estinien interjects. "Zenos had you on your knees. What happened?"

The hero frowns. "It was that voice again. Calling out to me."

Haurchefant frowns. "The same one that affected the Scions?"

The Warrior nods. "The very same. That voice... It pierced through me, I felt as if it was pulling at everything I am. It was agonizing. No matter how I tried to make my body obey, I could not move."

Estinien tsks, raking a hand roughly through his hair. Looking like he wanted to jump up and resume pacing. Or simply sink his lance into all of the Warrior of Light's foes.

"I see," Aymeric murmurs, frowning deeply. He reaches out and squeezes their knee. "Full glad am I to see you awake, my friend."

The hero looks between them all, a smile lurking at the corners of their mouth. "Tis good to see your faces."

Haurchefant reaches again for their hand, his blue eyes earnest. "Far better to see yours, dear heart. Why, I feel it has been a veritable eternity since last I have had the pleasure of gazing upon that lovely face."

The hero looks to Haurchefant fondly, their smile widening with obvious affection as the lord kisses their hand. "I missed you, too." They glance towards Aymeric and Estinien, too. Meeting their eyes each, their expression soft with the same affection as they held for Haurchefant. Of course, they had ever possessed such heart. "All of you. It has been too long since we have all been in the same place at the same time. Will you not stay a while longer?"

Haurchefant is the first to answer, "But of course. I have put in charge a knight most capable at Camp Dragonhead in mine absence. You have me for however long you desire, my dear."

Estinien sighs. "I cannot stay for long, nor can Aymeric. We are needed at the front. You, however, will stay. Your wounds have not yet fully healed. Do not make me carry you back here again."

The hero's face falls. Knowing that they could not jump out of bed straight away to join them. One on one, perhaps they would win that battle to return to the fight. But against all three? Nay. 'Twas best they stay abed a while longer to mend lest they want the guilt of three worried elezen men weighing on them.

"However," Aymeric cuts in, casting Estinien a mildly reproachful glance. "We can stay a while longer to keep you company. Is not not so, Estinien?" The lord prompts with a diplomatic smile, oozing charisma.

Estinien crosses his arms and grunts, but does not deny his friend. He supposed they could stay a little longer.

"There you have it," Aymeric says with satisfaction. "We will stay a while yet. Ah, but... Pray, do stay abed, my friend. You need your rest."

Haurchefant chimes in, "Indeed, indeed. Will you not allow us to fuss over you for a bit, my dear?"

Under the gaze of three Ishgardian men who cared so very much in all their own ways, how could the Warrior deny them. "...If that is your wish."

Haurchefant claps his hands together. "Splendid! Now, you must be hungry...."

....

❤️

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[rinhoes]

break time | ken ryuguji

— ken "draken" ryuguji x black!reader

warnings: oral (male & female receiving), draken get a little bit rough, praise, unprotected sex I guess. manga spoiler (ch. 148)

word count: 1517

Working in the bike repair shop was second nature for her, she grew up helping her father repair bikes of all models. So when the chance to work at D&D Motors came about, Y/N took it immediately. She'd been living in Tokyo for a few months before she got the call from her friend, Chifuyu. Apparently one of the employees had quit and they needed someone quickly, Y/N didn’t give Chifuyu the chance to explain any further before saying boldly “Tell them I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.” There were no problems, plus at the time she was a university student and needed the extra cash. And her dorm wasn’t too far from the shop anyway.

It’d been two years since she started working there. Everything she learned from her childhood gave her the right experience, however, she was currently breaking her number rule: never—under any circumstances—develop feelings for your co-worker. She saw how work relationships ended up from watching her friends, needless to say, she didn’t want that for herself.

But in an odd turn of events there she was. Absolutely gushing at the sight of Draken. The way his muscles flexing under his white tank top, how he bit his lip when he tightened bolts on a bike, or the way he would sit on the couch in the break room with his legs spread wide open. Oh, how she fantasized about straddling him, grinding her pussy against him while she ran her fingers through his jet black hair. At times Y/N had to retreat to the bathroom just to catch a break from him, his presence was suffocating. She couldn’t tell you the number of times she would run to the bathroom, out of breath; breathing as if she’d run a marathon.

Not too long ago she asked Chifuyu about Draken. She remembered him mentioning something about some girl named Emma, who died when they were younger and how it really fucked Draken up for a long time. It almost made Y/N back off from him completely until she found herself back in the break room trying to escape from Draken. He’d been calling her “princess” and “angel” all day—usually, those names wouldn’t have gotten to her but this was Ken Ryuguji she was dealing with. There was a way he went about it, “Hey Y/N can you grab that wretch for me?” “Thanks princess” or “Good job angel.” It made her go absolutely mad.

After a few minutes alone, Draken waltzed in, his jumpsuit hanging low off his waist. His muscular arms glistened with sweat, while his tight tank top emphasized his chiseled torso. This was the only time she’d thanked God for Japan's hot summers. Folding her arms and crossing her legs, Y/N pushed deeper into the plush couch.

“You’ve been acting weird today.” Draken spoke as he sat down next to her, his leg apart, one of his arms stretched over the top of the sofa while the other rested on his lap.

Acting oblivious to his question, Y/N shrugged. “N-no I haven’t. I’m just tired I guess.”

Draken chuckled, she was such a bad liar. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes. Simply looking at him would send her over the edge. Draken wasn’t a fool, he was such a keen man, and after two years of working with her. He could proudly say “I know her like the back of my hand.” He’d taken in everything about her, the way her eyes glossed over him while he was working, how she would fold her legs he sat beside her or even she bit her lip when he called her “princess”—she liked that one the most.

Gently grabbing her chin, Draken turned her face to his. She was burning and the cool air from the air conditioning did nothing to help. Draken watched as she slowly bit down on her plump bottom lip. “Are you gonna tell me what your problem is or do you want me to find out for myself?”

The truth is Draken already knew. He knew she had formed some feelings for him but it was something holding her back and Draken didn’t have to guess what it was. Pulling her closer to him, Draken placed a gentle kiss on the side of her neck. Thanks to the 90-something degree weather she too was only wearing a tank top. Very thin one at that. “Ken w-wait”

“What is it baby? Is something bothering you?“

“Kennie! please—stop teasing me.” she whined as she placed her hand on his crotch, “I want you.”

Another chuckle left Draken’s lips as found himself unhooking her bra and pulling that along with her tank top down causing it to rip a little and her soft breast to spill out the front. Draken groaned at the sight of them, wasting no time he took one of her dark brown nipples into his mouth. Licking and sucking on the sensitive bud and pinching the other one. Y/N was a mess. She moaned loudly in response to his actions, “Mhmmmm–yes Ken, oh! That feels so good.” Her moans were sweeter than he imagined.

Dipping his left hand into her loose cargo pants, Draken pressed his fingers onto her clit. Soft mewls filled the room as he rubbed delicate circles into her swollen clit. “You taste as good as you sound, baby girl?” He asked before sinking two slender fingers into her wet hole. Arching her back off the arm of the couch, Y/N let out a sweet moan that made Draken groaned in response. Her walls clenched tightly around his fingers, “You’re gonna have to loosen up for me baby.”

Before Y/N could realize it, Draken had already taken her cargo pants and lace panties off. Running his tongue against her wet folds Y/N gripped Draken’s hair as his beautiful face pressed deeper in her pussy. His soft lips licking and sucking on her clit and labia, Y/N’s loud moans filled the break room–at this point, she was praying Draken locked the door out front. “Ken, f-fuck your so good.” Curving his tongue into her wet hole Y/N clenched her thighs around Draken’s head. “God, Draken!”

His fat long tongue reached spots Y/N could never with just her fingers. “I want you to cum on my face. How’s that sound baby girl?” Not even giving her the chance to answer, Draken gripped the back of her thighs pushing them closer to her plush chest. He wrapped his lips around her clit, licking and sucking on the swollen bud.

Her moans and sobs grew louder as Draken’s tongue worked relentlessly on her pussy. “I’m s-so close Ken. Oh f-fuck—it’s too much.” Soon that pressure was building and her legs started to clench and shake in Draken’s large hands. Y/N rode out her first orgasm as she rolled hips against Draken’s face.

Ken released his thick cock from the confines of his jumpsuit. It might have been the prettiest dick Y/N ever seen. It made her mouth water as she watched the precum leaked from his red mushroom tip. Without waiting for Draken’s instructions, Y/N ran her tongue along Draken’s shaft from balls to tip. A deep groan came from Draken's chest as his needy cock disappeared in Y/N's mouth, she took him inch by inch until the tip of his dick tapped the back of her throat. He held her head down not trusting himself to not thrust in her mouth.

Draken watched her head bobbed up and down, his heavy balls tightened each time she took him deeper. “Fuck princess, you’re such a good girl. Mmm—oh–fuck yes baby.” Swirling her tongue over the tip of his cock, Y/N the wetness started dripping down her pussy. She was so eager to suck his dick and that made Draken almost lose it. Through heavy pants, Draken commanded her to the ground and on her knees.

“Open” he states before guiding his heavy dick into her hot mouth once again. Grasping both sides of her head, he starts to “gently” fuck her face. With each thrust, the tip of Y/N‘s nose would brush against Draken’s dark pubes—something she found incredibly hot.

More praise and moans came from Draken’s mouth. Soon his thigh was clenching under her soft hands. Y/N moaned against his twitching cock, sending waves of pleasure into the tall man. She could feel his orgasm building up, taking her hand Y/N cupped and massaged Draken's balls causing heavy moans to erupt from Draken. "Fuck Y/N. Hmmm fuck—I'm cumming! I—" His large hands pushing Y/N's head deeper on his dick. She felt his balls tighten in her hands as his hot cum flooded her throat.

With some of his cum still dripping out of his cock as he pulled out of her mouth, Y/N let out a light giggle then dragged her tongue against his sensitive tip. "You taste so good Ken. My place or yours?" She questioned still on her knees as she gazed up at him.

"Yours."

[yaboymercury]

It had been years since your childhood friend Darren had made contact with you, but apparently him finishing college and moving back made him want to rekindle the friendship.

The small talk in his kitchen was a little awkward but after chugging some milk he invited you up to his room.

"Man I really miss my old roommate, he was so useful..."

"What do you mean useful?" Anxiety in your voice as you heard the click of the door lock behind him.

He didn't reply just chuckling as he slipped off his sweats revealing his tightly covered package.

"Darren what do you mean?" You were worried now as he was leaning against the door blocking your only exit.

He laughed again smirking at you. Instead of answering with words he pulled a leg up to his chest.

PRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAPPPPPPTTTTTT

The fart echoed around the room as he sighed at the massive relief the horrific stench gave him, a stench which quickly made it's way to your nostrils forcing out coughs at the atrocious hot gas.

He seemed to find your guttural reaction hilarious. "Ahh yeah my last roommate was such a good fart filter, at first he hated it but," he paused and winced.

FFFFFFRRRRRRRAPPPPPPPP

"my gas eventually won him over." He wafted the fart towards you. The powerful stink made your eyes burn, it was so bad that you fell to your knees trying to support yourself while still coughing.

PPPPPPPPPRRRRRRAPPPPPTTT

The sulfuric stink got even worse overpowering the room as he strolled over, looming above you.

"But now I'm home my farts need a new face, so I guess this is your interview."

As you looked up from the floor you see him squatting over you. Before you could even complain his juicy ass had eclipsed everything and your world was consumed by his wretched ass.

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRAMMMMMMMMMMPPPTTTTTTTTTTTTT

-

last post

ko-fi for tips or if you wanna make a commission :)

[robininthelabyrinth]

"The Untamed", but Jiggy has a white cat whom he tells everything.- May or may not be sentient or 'spiritual' like Fairy in the book. (From an idea I've thrown around with my friend @yraelviii)

ao3

He found the cat in Qinghe.

“What are you doing here?” Meng Yao said, crouching down to try to scoop out the little handful of white fluff underneath his cabinet only for it to bare its infantile fangs and him and hiss, moving its butt around as if it thought his fingers ought to be running in fear from its fearsome pounce. “How did you even get in here?”

The cat – a kitten, really, small and scrawny, dirty and covered in ashes as if it had just run out of a forge, but no less passionate for it – squirmed in his hand as he picked it up.

“Who owns you?” Meng Yao asked, and the cat hissed viciously as if to shout no one owns me!

Something about that echoed in Meng Yao’s heart – no one owns me, he thought – and so he fished up some extra meat from his plate, filled a small platter with water, and used the sleeve of an old outfit that needed to be taken to be laundered anyway to wipe the grey ash off of the cat’s white fur while it was distracted by sniffing suspiciously at the food and water that it ultimately declined to consume.

“Just this once,” he told it.

-

Doing good work will often only bring you more work, Meng Yao reflected, and so it was with the cat as much as with anything else. He still didn’t know how the cat managed to get into his rooms, and he sometimes dwelled on paranoid suspicions that there were hiding-holes in his chambers designed to allow others to spy on him, just as there had been in certain rooms in the brothel – though even at his worst moment of uncertainty and doubt he didn’t really think so. He knew that it wasn’t Nie Mingjue’s style even if Meng Yao had been someone important enough to care about, and anyway he didn’t question his own ability to discovery such a thing if it had really existed. He’d checked.

At any rate, however it kept getting into his rooms, the cat was now a regular presence there, lurking around.

It didn’t want to be petted and greeted all attempts to feed it with utter disdain, but despite its general standoffishness it seemed to like being in the same vicinity as Meng Yao, enjoying nothing more than to settle haughtily by the window in his room and watch over Meng Yao as if it thought he might get lost without its supervision.

Meng Yao thought it was probably someone’s pet gotten lost, or maybe even just a feral cat from outside (Qinghe had a fair number of them) that had figured out that it could access the good life by going inside, but it was very hard to sincerely worry over the ill-intentions of a cat, and he was already very busy.

If he didn’t need to care for it, then it wasn’t adding to his troubles. Let the cat sit where it liked!

Meng Yao had found that life in Qinghe was both different and similar to life in Yunping, the only life he had to compare it to, and it amused him to think of the great and righteous Nie sect as an overly large brothel, with the main difference being that they sold their strength where women sold their bodies. In both places there needed to be order, someone to sort things out and tell people where to put things and what to do; in both places Meng Yao, with his quick mind and excellent memory, his sense of understanding people and anticipating their needs, was utterly invaluable in arranging such things.

He had, admittedly, expected it to take a little more time to climb up to the top – the only person he couldn’t understand in this place was Nie Mingjue, who was far too easy to deceive and smiled at him like he really thought they were friends instead of just being master and servant, who appreciated his talents and told him so, who shrugged off his mistakes and had faith that he would do better, who ignored his status instead of lording it over him the way Meng Yao had expected him to. Even when he was angry, when he shouted and slammed his hands against things, Nie Mingjue never once mentioned Meng Yao’s background, and the only things he seemed to hold against him were his own mistakes.

Meng Yao still didn’t know why Nie Mingjue would act so rashly as to promote someone he had just met to a position as high as viceroy, much less actually trust him, but it didn’t really matter. However quixotic his method of reaching a place of power, he was here and his next task was to keep his place until he’d made a reputation for himself.

Part of that he did through his work, good critical work that people needed and which had always won him gratitude even if not respect, but the other part of it was in cultivation. That was the way in which the Nie sect was not like a brothel: you couldn’t just be clever, you couldn’t even just be beautiful - to be respected, you had to cultivate.

Not that wanting to cultivate was a problem for Meng Yao.

He’d always had a memory like a sponge and a body that obeyed his every wish, his childhood of mimicking the beautiful dances of his mother and her ‘sisters’ serving him well in transitioning to learning the sword even if he was years behind everyone else; his mother had bought a thousand fake cultivation manuals for him and he’d learned them all, each one of them more useless than the next, and now that he was here in the cultivation world at long last, he was finally, finally, finally able to cultivate for real.

Using Nie sect methods, of course, even if that wasn’t what he really wanted.  

He’d started as soon as he could when he arrived, endlessly grateful that the Nie sect provided training sabers without cost, and he’d snuck one away back to his room so that he could practice on his own time, knowing it would take a long time to form his golden core. He’d debated with himself for a long time as to whether or not it was worth it to invest in a real one – if the training sabers were free, then real proper Nie sabers were somehow three times as expensive as the swords you could buy in the marketplace, and you could only put in a deposit without any notion of when you’d actually get the saber, apparently subject to the contrary dispositions of the spiritual weaponsmiths that made them.

In the end he decided to go for it more or less on a whim, emptying out his hard-built savings to place the order, even though he knew he would one day need to discard whatever they made for him in favor of a sword.

The Jin sect would accept him one day. He would make them.

(If the Nie sect cultivation style was good for one thing, he thought as he went through endless drills of slashing and thrusting, it was that you could work out your anger while you were doing it. There was nothing quite like imagining the face of someone you hated and then bringing down the practice saber in a vicious slash, and oh, but Meng Yao hated so very many people.)

The cat liked watching him train most of all, although Meng Yao suspected it was because seeing him jump around panting was funnier than watching him sit at his desk and gracefully write out letters. It would occasionally start purring, a sound a little like a crackling fire, and eventually Meng Yao got into the habit of going to run his fingers through its fur as a reward for himself when he successfully completed a training sequence.

After a while, he started talking to it, too.

“That commander,” Meng Yao said as he brought the training saber down. His real saber was still on the order, probably stalled purposefully; the smith assigned the task was probably one of the people that thought they were too good to deal with him because of who his mother was, and it’d all been a waste of money in the end. Completely a waste, even if Nie Mingjue had smiled so happily at him when he’d heard about Meng Yao placing the order, his eyes warm and soft and how had that man survived so long in this wretched world of politics and pain, didn’t he know he would always be deceived and betrayed?

Why should he be the exception to the rule, when everyone else had to suffer?

Meng Yao threw away the unhelpful thoughts and thrust the saber forward, as if piercing his invisible opponent straight through the chest.

“That commander.” He minutely corrected his form and stabbed again, this time as if piercing through the belly: a gut wound, a slow and awful way to die. “He’ll regret what he said to me.”

The cat’s purring intensified.

Meng Yao briefly had the wild thought that it approved.

“I just –” Another thrust. “– need to figure out –” An overhead slash. “– how.”

-

Meng Yao ended up taking the cat with him when he left Qinghe.

It probably was someone’s pet and he was opening himself up to a charge of stealing, a charge he wouldn’t be able to defend himself against now that he no longer had Nie Mingjue’s protection –

(Nie Mingjue who had wept tears and blood at what Meng Yao had done, betrayed at last after having finally encountered a deception he could not swallow, who had banished him from the Unclean Realm even after everything Meng Yao had done for him – who had, despite it all, still hidden an entire bag of gold and Meng Yao’s favorite Qinghe snacks in Meng Yao’s things with a short note claiming that it was for unpaid wages. As if Meng Yao had ever let a single pay period go by without claiming exactly what he was due. As if Nie Mingjue still cared despite throwing him out, as if he worried about how Meng Yao might live, as if he hadn’t given up the privilege of caring about things like that – )

He didn’t really care.

He wanted the cat, so he took it. It was the least Qinghe could do for him.

The cat spent all its time in his new rooms in the hotels he stayed out as he traveled: in his bedroom and study, the little gardens that, when available, he liked to use to train in the mornings and evenings. It would even follow him when he took a bath (although that was with great reluctance on the part of the cat, and only if Meng Yao were taking an especially long time in the bath and the cat was worried he’d drowned, yowling angrily as if it could revive him through the power of its voice). If it had once belonged to someone else, it now belonged to Meng Yao, and Meng Yao didn’t give away anything that was his.

“I’ve made worse mistakes,” he said defiantly to the cat, which blinked at him from its side of the carriage he’d used some of the gold to rent. “It’s only that I don’t want to review them in order to think of which ones those might be.”

The cat got up, stretched its back, and walked over to butt its head against Meng Yao’s hand before turning and going back to its spot by the window.

Meng Yao wasn’t sure if that was a sign of agreement or if the cat just thought there was a treat in his hand. Not that the cat had ever accepted treats from his hand.

He still wasn’t sure what the cat ate, actually, but he was sure the cat would make its feelings known now that they weren’t somewhere with a dependable kitchen, though he supposed there was always the possibility that it would start picking up hunting.

“Wen Chao said that they’d aimed at the Cloud Recesses,” Meng Yao said, deciding not to dwell on the things of the past. There was nothing he could do about it. Nothing he could do about Nie Mingjue’s betrayed eyes or the snacks he hadn’t even known Nie Mingjue had known he’d liked, about the hand-me-down guans and trinkets that Nie Huaisang had insisted were part of his wardrobe when he’d helped him pack even though he knew Nie Huaisang still wore them sometimes, about the fact that he should have been ordered to take the Nie sect’s braids out of his hair when he passed by the gates for the final time since he didn’t deserve them anymore but the two disciples there had just nodded at him and let him pass without a word – nothing to do about the saber he’d ordered, still on the list to be made, and maybe if he made something of himself out in the world alone he would one day come back to claim it at last. “That’s where we’re going now. Lan Xichen might be in danger. I have to help him.”

The cat made a sound like it was considering hacking up a hairball.

“He was kind to me,” Meng Yao said, feeling defensive. “The only one who never judged me –”

Since he’d decided to forget about Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang, wiping it out of his mind as if it had never been, that was even true.

“– and he’s a proper gentleman, a good man. I’ll help him.”

That Lan Xichen was also a powerful man was something he wished he didn’t think of, but he couldn’t help the way he was.

“After I help him, I’ll figure out what to do next,” Meng Yao said, like a liar, and the cat looked at him like he was stupid – which he was being, because of course he’d already planned out what to do next, figured out his next move, and there was no point in lying to a cat about it. Meng Yao had skills that were only useful in management, not labor, and the only thing he left to sell was information about the sect from which he’d just been ejected. “No one owns me, right? Let it be the Wen sect.”

The cat did not purr, but it didn’t condemn him, either.

That would have to do.

-

It was a good thing that Meng Yao’s cat was self-sufficient, he thought, because he had neither the time nor the stomach to feed it during his time at the Wen sect.

If he had thought he had worked hard at the Nie sect, he now knew differently: at least there the worst he had faced from his colleagues had been disdain and not outright murder attempts, back-stabbing and undercutting to try to show off to Wen Ruohan, and all the while the man himself demanded more and more from him without the slightest care for his own well-being. He was grist to the mill for Wen Ruohan, no matter how much the Chief Cultivator enjoyed having another man’s prized deputy as his own – Wen Ruohan might had been very nearly driven insane by the Yin Metal, but he still remembered old grudges – and it was night and day away from Nie Mingjue’s reliance on him that was based on trust, rather than reluctantly satisfied suspicion and paranoia.

Meng Yao had hidden the cat as best as he could from the start, thinking rightfully that people would try to use it against him, and to his relief it seemed that no one else had yet laid eyes on it and identified it as his own, despite its white fur standing out like a beacon to his sight. Unfortunately there were some people that had managed to figure out that he had a cat, even if they didn’t lay eyes on it themselves, and he’d had more than a few incidents in which someone had left poisoned meat out on the floor by his room in order to catch it.

The cat seemed as unimpressed with that as anything else.

Instead, the cat seemed to have taken up hunting as its pastime. It brought back the corpses of small birds, the Yin Metal-infused little spies, full of resentful energy, that Wen Ruohan had developed for his sons to use. At first Meng Yao worried about the cat getting somehow poisoned by them, but time went on and it seemed to be fine, even thriving. It had grown into a proper cat now, no longer a kitten, and it enjoyed licking its white and shining fur until it was gleaming.

It didn’t like Meng Yao’s training sessions as much – he trained with a sword now, two-faced just like him, and in a dozen different styles, Wen and Jiang and Jin, always Jin – so sometimes Meng Yao would go back to doing the old Nie sect style again, knowing the cat would recognize the familiar movements, and it was a surefire way to get the cat to purr.

The Nie sect style was also still the best for getting out anger, all aggression and sharp movements, and Meng Yao still had a lot of anger inside of him. He was starting to think he always would.

At least here in the Nightless City he could kill the people he hated, as long as he did so in low and dirty ways that didn’t trouble Wen Ruohan or interfere with his plans, and yet every time he did it, he felt no relief, only a vile and wretched stickiness that came, perhaps, from that awful Yin Metal that he had schemed over yet couldn’t seem to escape.

The cat didn’t like the Yin Metal one bit. It hissed and scratched, and in one notable incident seemed like it was going to pounce on it directly if Meng Yao hadn’t caught it mid-leap and shoved it into his sleeve before anyone had noticed it.

“You’re going to get me into trouble,” Meng Yao told the cat next time he trained, using the soft sword he’d hidden away for a time of need to hack and slash in the Nie way, which didn’t work with a soft sword at all but which made him feel strangely better. He was currently imagining Wen Ruohan’s head underneath a saber, his head and the heads of all those corpse puppets he’d created. “I will cut you loose if you do that.”

The cat rolled onto its back and showed its soft and fluffy belly, which only the truly unwise would seek to lay a hand on – Meng Yao still had scars – and Meng Yao rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes, I know,” he said. “No one owns you, not even me. But do me a favor and don’t screw this up for me. Not when I’m so close.”

Lan Xichen had been accepting his letters and feeding them to Nie Mingjue, who trusted as blindly as he ever did. Meng Yao wished sometimes that he didn’t, that he would learn, that he would put some defenses up on that stupid reckless heart of his, but on the other hand it suited his plans very well that he didn’t.

Soon, he thought. Soon.

Soon he’d know what he needed to do.

-

“Now he chooses not to trust people,” Meng Yao complained to his cat. “Now. Now!”

The cat purred.

It wasn’t that Meng Yao (damnit, Jin Guangyao, he had a new name, he was Jin Guangyao now) couldn’t understand Nie Mingjue’s reluctance to trust him – fool me once, fool me twice, but three times seemed to be the other man’s breaking point – and in some ways he understood it more than ever now that he had been accepted back by the Jin sect, clothed in the gold he’d always deserved to wear.

Jin Guangshan hadn’t lost much in the war, not like the other sects, and the second it was over he was already scheming. Meng Yao – Jin Guangyao – was pulled right into the thick of it at once, less for his spying capability than for his sheer disposability, the fact that Jin Guangshan wasn’t willing to burden his pure and righteous heir with black matters that he was more than happy to taint the son of his whore with. With Nie Mingjue, general and hero of the Sunshot Campaign, representing the only real threat to the Jin sect’s domination, even if he didn’t want to be, Jin Guangyao was bound to be in opposition to him.

It made sense for Nie Mingjue not to trust him.

It irritated him regardless.

Still, lack of trust or no, Nie Mingjue had succumbed to Lan Xichen’s impassioned arguments and had agreed to swear brotherhood with him, even if Jin Guangyao suspected that Nie Mingjue’s primary motivation was to keep a better eye on him and scold him the way he did Nie Huaisang. It would be politically beneficial to Jin Guangyao to be tied in such a way to Nie Mingjue – it would suit his own desires as well, though that was less important – and so he had of course agreed as well, and he was planning on going to their oath ceremony in the outfit he had chosen for himself, gold from neck to foot, a sword he’d taken from the treasury since no one would order him one of his own, and a hat on his head like the ones his mother so admired to make up for his lack of height and to hide the Nie sect braids he still habitually wore underneath.

An old habit, and one he really ought to break, really. Ideally before Nie Mingjue figured it out and told him to cut it out.

There was a knock on the door, a familiar pounding, and the cat looked up, intrigued, even as Jin Guangyao sighed voicelessly to himself. Perhaps he had waited too long.

Perhaps it would be better to make a clean cut in this way, too.

He opened the door.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he greeted, thinking to himself that it would only be a few more hours before he was entitled to call the man da-ge as if they were nearly equals and how strange that would be. “Can this humble one help you?”

“Can I come in?” Nie Mingjue asked gruffly, his eyes lingering on Jin Guangyao’s uncovered and Nie-braided hair, just as he might have expected. Had expected.

Jin Guangyao nodded and stepped back, allowing him in, and closed the door behind him. “Could I get the sect leader some refreshments?” he asked politely, but Nie Mingjue seemed to have come to a stop right in the entranceway, surprise written all over his features. “Sect Leader Nie?”

Nie Mingjue was staring at Jin Guangyao’s cat.

“…Sect Leader Nie?”

Did Nie Mingjue not like cats? There were an endless number of feral cats in Qinghe, so it seemed implausible, and yet, here Nie Mingjue was, looking at the cat like he’d never seen such a thing before in its life.

Of course, at that exact moment, Jin Guangyao’s cat, the traitor, hopped off its pillow and went straight to rub itself against Nie Mingjue’s leg, purring like a little maniac.

Jin Guangyao stared at it, feeling thoroughly betrayed by what he would have previously said was his thoroughly unsociable cat, who had taken years to warm up to him enough to give him half the attention it was now bestowing freely on Nie Mingjue. Was this the heavens deciding to mock him for his earlier betrayals?

Alternatively, Nie Mingjue might just be very good with cats, which Jin Guangyao could believe. Perhaps he even carried in his pockets some of the Qinghe vine that cats were said to be so enamored of, although certainly Meng Yao’s cat had never once before shown an interest in such things before.

“…what’s its name?” Nie Mingjue croaked, voice hoarse. He was still staring fixedly at the cat, looking as though his entire world had shattered around him. He hadn’t even looked so unsettled when Jin Guangyao had so viciously mocked him at the Nightless City, and at the time he’d thought he was going to die and be turned into a corpse puppet to murder all his loved ones.

Jin Guangyao was tempted to say something rude or facetious, something like ‘I just call it Cat, why, do you name random cats?’, but the cat had been a good companion of his for a long time now and he couldn’t do that to it, even if he was currently planning on taking an extra long bath to force the cat to miserably linger by the door to the bathing room, screeching in unhappiness at the wet, but bravely (if grumpily) supervising him to make sure he didn’t drown.

“Hensheng,” he said, because that was in fact what he’d named it – it meant hatred for life, which was not exactly an auspicious name but which had stuck from the very moment he had thought it up – and waited to hear Nie Mingjue’s judgment. “It’s not normally quite so sticky,” he added in an attempt to save some face. “With most people.”

“Well, it’s me, that’s different,” Nie Mingjue said, and maybe the man really was just the human incarnation of the plant cats liked so much. Meng Yao really wouldn’t put it past him. “You...you cultivate in the Nie sect style? Still?”

Jin Guangyao blinked, surprised by the change in subject.

“Yes,” he said, a little hesitantly. He cultivated many styles now, although it was always the Jin sect style when he was in public. But he still had all the anger in his belly to vent – even more so now than before, anger at his father, anger at Madame Jin, anger at his brother born to a blessed life, anger at all those disciples that sneered at him even after he’d been legitimized, anger, anger, anger – and the Nie sect style had always been the best for that.

And anyway, it made the cat purr.

“Is that a problem, Sect Leader Nie?” he asked.

“Not at all,” Nie Mingjue said, and when he turned to look at him his eyes were warm and soft the way they’d been all the way before the fiasco with Xue Yang, shimmering with tears of joy and a smile that seemed to come straight from his heart, the foolish easily deceived man. It was so unexpected that Jin Guangyao actually took a full two steps back, his jaw dropping a little. “I’m happy for you. Very happy.”

He actually wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, dashing away the tears.

“You should come back to the Unclean Realm to pick it up when the brotherhood ceremony is done,” he added nonsensically. “I can’t imagine how long it’s been waiting for you.”

“…what?” Jin Guangyao said. “Pick up what?”

“Hensheng,” Nie Mingjue said, which – what? “Your saber. Hensheng.”

His saber?

The saber he’d never gotten, having been banished from the Unclean Realm before the order was finished, the one he’d spent all his savings on just in putting in the deposit, the one he’d never actually finished paying off? He remembered it, of course, and sometimes it still itched under his skin that he’d never gotten what he was owed because everything that was owed to him he deserved to get in the end. But…

“Hensheng is my cat,” he said.

Nie Mingjue blinked at him. “That’s not a cat,” he said. “That’s a saber spirit.”

Jin Guangyao’s gaze dropped down to the cat.

The cat that never seemed to eat anything or drink anything, that never once fell for the poisoned meat or accepted his offers of treats, that no one in the Nightless City had ever seen with their own eyes; the cat that could consistently get into his rooms despite there being no holes for it to enter, as if it had simply passed through the walls like a ghost.

Like a spirit.

The cat, which purred whenever Jin Guangyao practiced the Nie sect forms, swinging a saber with rage in his heart.

The cat to which he had confessed all his anger, all his frustration, all his rage, all the feelings he never gave to any human being around him – the sabers of the Nie sect thrived on such emotions, those feelings that encouraged them and strengthened them, developing the saber spirits that made each one of them a spiritual weapon unlike any other, with power and rage infused into the very blade.

Saber spirits, which only those born into the Nie sect or adopted early, raised in their ways, one of them, could form.

“A saber spirit?” Jin Guangyao said weakly, and his knees suddenly didn’t seem strong enough to hold him; he swayed and Nie Mingjue stepped forward quickly, catching him by the shoulders to steady him. “I cultivated a saber spirit?”

“The saber is back in the Unclean Realm,” Nie Mingjue said, not without kindness. “It was only ever waiting for you to pick it up once you developed the spirit, so that you could introduce the two.”

“It hasn’t been – I would have thought it would have been thrown away, or repurposed –”

“It’s a Nie saber, Meng Yao. It won’t obey anyone else ever again, not in this life; it is yours, yours alone. When one day you die, it will be buried with honor in our saber halls, just like all the others.”

The cat looked up at him and purred.

No one owns me, Jin Guangyao thought – the first thing the cat had said to him, and he’d always had a good understanding of what the cat wanted from the very first. No one had owned that wild spirit then, but it had stayed by his side, at first from curiosity and later from habit, and it was his now.

His, and no one else’s.

“Will you come pick it up?” Nie Mingjue asked, hope in his eyes. “Will you come home, if only for a little while?”

“Yes,” Jin Guangyao said. “Yes, I will.”

-

Later, Jin Guangshan told his son to kill Nie Mingjue, that fool who trusted too much and didn’t know when he was being deceived, finding him in his rigidity and righteousness too much of a burden on the power he planned to wield.

Jin Guangyao bowed as deep as he could, a smile on his lips, saying nothing, and the next day, when Jin Guangshan went to the brothel as he always did, drinking tea served by his son the way he always did, he never did figure out why his heart had stopped.

(The saber Jin Guangyao began to wear openly after the funeral – a gift from his sworn brother, he said with a smile, in remembrance of his time at the Nie sect – purred in pure satisfaction.)

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Emotion (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: Kakashi again...can't get enough of this mans tbh. U r an empath due to your kekkei genkai and Kakashi has always been difficult to read. Friend to lovers. Sharing one bed folks, we got some steamyyy shit here. Angst warning as well.

Word count: 6000

He was always alone. Ever since his childhood, he walked the world completely alone with only a few people there to support him. No mother, no father, no mentor, no teammates. He was at the mercy of fate his entire life, things being stolen from him time and time again. 

He just prayed that he could keep her. Y/N L/N, the only woman to have wormed her way into his heart and made a home there.

When they first met, Kakashi and Y/N, she cursed him for being such a weirdo. Apparently his mind was empty and his heart was seemingly full of sand. He was conditioned that way, and that is how he lived for the longest time. It wasn't a surprise for him to hear that.

But she thought it was stranger than anything she'd ever seen, and so she followed him. She would figure him out, bring him back down to Earth from his supposed high horse. That woman was determined, and frankly he didn't mind her being around. She was quiet enough that it didn't matter. Not to mention on the missions they had together, she was quite the partner.

Over time, she'd learned to read him like a book. It was part of her clan's kekkei genkai. The ultimate empath, I suppose. The ability to read a persons every single emotion and then turn that, if they so choose, into power. 

She was never the greatest fighter, but her negotiation skills were the best they could possibly be. She would dive into the emotions of another and manipulate them backwards and forwards to get what she wanted. 

It was overwhelming, walking into a room of people and immediately being bombarded with so many feelings coming at her all at once. Occasionally, if the situation was bad enough she'd have to take a seat and clear her mind, organizing each person in her mind like a filing cabinet of empathy.

But damn, did she try to weasel out every bit of feeling she could. It was just something that came so naturally, she couldn’t help but instigate whatever was brewing up inside him.

"Kakashi, if you're happy, you know you're allowed to express it. You don't have to hide it away," she told him, staring at the masked man sitting across from her at the table. He was watching as she sharpened her kunai, and she could feel the content running off his body in small bursts. He was feeling better. Better than he had in a little while. Of course she picked up on it.

He sighed, rolling his eyes. She was always reading him, he knew that. He just preferred when she refrained from mentioning it. It did, most times, feel like a bit of an invasion of privacy, how she could deep dive into the corners of his mind. There were things no one else could ever possibly know that she did. It was strange, but he was used to it.

"What? Want me to smile or something?"

"No, but you should let yourself go. Just drop the facade."

"Stop doing that. Getting into my head."

Quietly, she set down her blade and picked up the next one, taking a cloth and softly wiping away any dirt. Her eyes slide up to his for a moment, her all knowing gaze filling his vision. "It's basically impossible. Especially if you're the only one around. There's nothing else to focus on except you." He knew that. It wasn't like she had an on or off switch. That was the downside of this dojutsu. Unlike sharingan and byakugan users, hers was always pulling the strings of her brain.

"You've got that mission next week. With Naruto and a few of the other kids, right?"

"Yes."

"It's A rank, isn't it?"

She hummed in agreement. He had a habit of knowing about all her missions, more importantly being the dangerous ones. He wasn't necessarily scared for her, probably not. He was more cautious than anything. There was this nagging feeling in his head that he shouldn't let her go on these missions alone. That it was too dangerous for her to handle. 

But he was wrong. She was stronger than he thought, and could hold her own in battle. He was just a worrier. He'd just lost too many, seen too many bodies in front of his eyes to trust. God, he wanted to trust her, but he couldn't. She was too vulnerable. His friend, one of the only ones who hadn't died yet. For all he knew, her days numbered, that's how paranoid he was about everything.

"You'll be careful?"

"That's a silly question." He gave her a look that said he was more serious than anything, and she sighed. "Of course I'll be careful. I have people that would miss me if I wasn't." He was one of them. She could sense his fear whenever she said goodbye and his relief when she returned. He really tried to remain objective, but his heart said otherwise. 

And she would be a liar to say that she did not experience the same relief seeing him come home from missions, even if he was beaten and bruised to the bone, she was just happy he made it back. So many never got to come home. It was a sick world, they lived in, but she could relish in the little comforts.

"Don't worry about me. I'll always turn out fine. It's you and your dumb students we have to worry about."

"I hear you. Those kids are enough to drive a person mad." He rested his chin in his palm, the mere thought of those kids causing his blood pressure to rise.

"Thankfully my students never gave me any trouble. Sweet little things."

"Well, aren't you just lucky, Y/N?"

"What can I say? Kurenai and I got the luck of the draw with our students. You men had it rough, I have to admit," she laughed. It was funny that he was so unfortunate to have gotten assigned the Uchiha and the Uzumaki, two completely opposite but persistent forces. "Despite your perverted tendencies and your perpetual lateness, you still did a great job teaching them."

"Thanks. But do you really have to call me a pervert? I'm really not."

"Yeah? That explains why you read porn in public. Admit you're a pervert, you dumb old man."

"We're the same age-" he began to argue, but she just cut him off with her harsh words.

"Creep," she muttered, running the sharpening stone along her blade. He narrowed his eyes. She was being awfully annoying, and he knew she could sense his irritation building up. Yet she continued just to be a pain in the ass.

 He warned, "Hey. Watch it, L/N."

"Okay, okay, I'll stop...Pervert." She ducked her head when his hand reached out to wring her around the neck for being so frustrating, and she continued to laugh. It was nice, having a friend she could joke with and be around without having to worry about what she said. He might pretend to be mad, but she could feel the happiness still rolling off his body thickly under all that fake neutrality. 

He was happier than he'd been in a long while, and she found herself swelling with pride knowing that she might have helped make that happen. Her lips curled into the gentlest of smiles as she peered back up at him, and he found himself smiling back even if it was just through the mask. 

He swore in that moment, he'd make sure Y/N didn't end up like all the others. She would live. He'd break this wretched curse just for her. He was sure of it.

______

"How could you be so reckless?! Do you want to die?" Kakashi shouted at his friend who could only stand there angrily, arms crossed over her chest and one foot in the other direction. She didn't need to be lectured by someone who took just as many risks every single mission as she did.

"Kakashi, I really don't want to hear it. You have no idea how it went."

"Yeah but Naruto does, and we were just talking."

She placed her free hand over her chest and exclaimed even angrier than before, "You're going to trust a kid over me? Naruto even?" It was just low to trust Naruto when she was right there to explain herself. Just let her speak for once, she wanted to say but he of course, had something else to say.

He waved his arm toward the ramen shop, eyes glaring. "Don’t be rude. He's right there. What is wrong with you?"

Indeed, Naruto was sitting inside Ichiraku with Jiraiya at his side, munching on pork ramen while the pair fought outside. Kakashi was eating with them, taking a break from his work to just relax with his master and student when out of the corner of his eye he noticed Y/N stumbling down the street on her crutch. 

He heard when she got back home that she was in the infirmary for a couple days. He had no idea for what reason until Naruto explained to him what happened. She was being needlessly reckless on the battlefield, relying too much on her kekkei genkai and not enough on her brain. She threw herself right in the way of an enemy, for what reason, he didn't know. All he knew was that she could have died and she didn't seem to care one bit.

Rightfully so, he was mad. Normally he preferred not to make a scene in the open like this, but there wasn't anyone else around and he was red-hot.

She huffed. "He knows I don't mean anything bad by that. How could he not? I'm also his sensei, you know."

"Doesn't matter," Kakashi brushed off her words. "What you did was dangerous and you don't seem to care. Next time what are you gonna do? Run right into the arms of the enemy?"

"No, I would never. Kakashi, you're just being a jerk right now. I'm literally injured from the hip down and you have to yell at me? Jeez, just be grateful I'm alive, okay? Things happen," she tried to reason with him, but he didn't acknowledge it. He wasn't exactly feeling all that rational.

"Things don't just happen like that."

She groaned, "Well apparently they do, because it happened to me."

His eye narrowed and she noticed the way he clenched and unclenched his fists a couple times by his sides. Clearly he was just trying to channel his anger, but he really had no reason to be so upset. She hadn't done anything to him. He really needed to relax. "This is so like you L/N's. Always so emotional. Always thinking you're stronger than you actually are."

"Excuse you-"

"Get a grip, you aren't going to live forever."

"First off, don't interrupt me. Second, don't talk about my clan ever again, you hear me, Hatake? We don't live to please your dumbass," she cursed, how dare he say shit about her clan. That asshole. He was just being so...so unlike himself. She had no idea what had gotten into him, but she hated it and just wanted to continue on her way before he said something else stupid. 

Normally, she didn't expect to be bombarded in the street nearly the second she leaves the hospital, but Kakashi never fails to surprise her.

"I've got to go. Don't bother following me." With that, she took off past him, rushing as fast as she could on her crutch, which was pathetically slow. Silently, she cringed at how ridiculous she must look waddling around like this in a fit of rage. Nevermind that. She had better things to do.

He huffed out the breath he had been holding to walk back into the ramen shop, taking his seat beside Naruto and slouching down into the stool. Immediately, Master Jiraiya met his eyes, wisdom about to drip from his tongue once again. "You need to go apologize."

"Why? She clearly doesn't want that right now."

"Well, to start, you insulted her clan which is a big no-no. Imagine saying that to an Uchiha. You're lucky she let you off so easily."

"Yeah, Kakashi. You kinda just attacked her out there in the street," Naruto added.

Jiraiya continued, "Mainly though, the longer you let her stay angry, the worse it'll be for you in the end. Trust me."

"She said don't follow her."

"And you're actually going to listen?" The older man laughed. "You and her fighting reminded me a lot of young Tsunade and I. And let me tell you, you don't just let a woman like that go. I sure did. It’s not a fun time."

"Yeah, Kakashi sensei, go find Y/N."

The jounin stood from his stool and slapped a ramen voucher onto the counter top to pay for his meal. This really didn't seem like a good idea, he had to admit. But he would trust the process. This was the author of his favorite romance series, after all. How could he get something like this wrong? To put blind faith into Jiraiya on realistic romantic matters was probably the not the wisest thing to do, but it was the only thing he had to go on. "I'll go, but this doesn't sound like good advice."

"If you let this go, she's might run into the arms of another man for comfort. Do you want that?"

Tch, there was no way she was gonna do that. She barely had any friends. If anything she would go see Kurenai. Still, he pulled back the cloth at the entrance and muttered, "I gotta catch up to her."

"'Atta boy," Jiraiya cheered, waving off the copy nin. "Another bowl, Naruto?"

"Yes, please!"

Kakashi walked down the streets, looking for the woman he was sent on a mission to find and apologize to. He searched through the shops and the stands for her, walked by her apartment no sign of her. It wasn't until he stumbled by the bookstore that he found her eyeing down the display out front, leaning comfortably on her crutch.

"Y/N," he called to her, and he watched as she tensed up without a second. He caught up to her, walking to stand beside her in front of the store windows. "I need to talk to you."

"What do you want?" She questioned, peering over at him with a quirked brow. He seemed calmed down by now. Thankfully. "Also, didn't I tell you not to follow me?"

"You did, but Jiraiya told me to apologize."

"So this isn't even on your own accord, you're doing it because Jiraiya told you so." He groaned. Of course she would twist his words and find some way to make things bad on his end. She was angry with him, what did he expect to happen? Her to accept him with open arms?

"Listen, I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just overwhelmed."

"With what? I wasn't paying attention to anything but the anger." She picked at her finger nails in an attempt to remain casual, but really she was just itching to hear what he had to say. She was willing to give him a second chance, only because he was normally so sweet. This was just out of character for him.

He replied, "I was scared for you. Naruto told me about how you nearly died, and I was upset that you did that. I was upset because I could only think about what if you had been overpowered and the enemy killed you." His explanation was weak, but he hoped she would accept it as truth. He really wasn't lying. When he heard she was in the hospital indefinitely, he nearly had a heart attack himself. He worried for her every time she left on a mission without him. It just meant that if she failed, he wasn't there to protect her himself. He couldn't handle that thought.

"So you were worried?"

"Yes."

"Well, that's sweet of you, isn't it?"

"I'd miss you, you know. If you died."

She froze. That wasn't what she expected him to say. When she looked over at him, he was just staring into the storefront window, but she could feel the sadness in waves running off his body. She wobbled around on her crutch to face him, a hand getting coming up to rest on his shoulder. "It's okay."

"I don't want you going on missions without me because every time it scares the shit out of me thinking they'll bring you back dead. Every time. I don't know why."

"It's normal to worry for your teammates."

"It's not the same, and you know it."

"Ah." And she felt it. Even if it was just a little hint of something, she felt his infatuation roll off his body and she took it in like a drink of cold water. So refreshing. Was he attracted to her? She had no idea before this that he cared so much but from the sound of it, he had some strong feelings attached. She wanted to reach out and hug him, tell him it was going to be okay, but that felt too personal. Instead, she leant back and muttered, "You know, Kakashi, I worry about you too."

"It's good we both have someone who cares, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I should be on my way, but, uh, if you need some help getting up to your apartment-"

"I should be fine."

"Okay, good."

"Yeah, so uh, see you," she turned on her heel and started heading in the other direction toward her home when suddenly, his hand reached out to stop her. 

"Wait, Y/N. I think..."

"What is it?"

"It's just that I need you. Please be careful from now on."

She stopped, turning around just enough to get a good look at his face. He only watched her, a glimmer of something she didn't recognize in his eye. 

"As long as you take care of yourself too, Mister."

"Y/N, I…"

All she could feel was a rough fabric rubbing against her face for a second before the full picture came into view. 

Mask to lips. I repeat, mask to lips.

She stared at him, as he kissed her right there in front of their favorite bookstore. When he pulled away after a second, he seemed just as shocked as she was. She pressed a hand to her forehead and struggled to find the right words to say. 

Kakashi Hatake just kissed her. 

And she definitely liked it. More than any other kiss she’d ever had before. She loved it. Mask or not, that was one of the best surprises of her entire life, and she honestly had no idea how to react. She settled for the easiest possible thing, running in the opposite direction, give herself time to think over what that meant for the two of them if anything at all. Kakashi wasn’t the type to have a girlfriend, he was always single. There just wasn’t room in his life for her.

There was plenty room in her life to fit him in comfortably. And there was more than enough room in her bed as well. 

Flustered, with heat coming to sit in her cheeks and run up her neck, she turned and motioned in the direction of her home. She just had too many thoughts to sit here and pretend she wasn’t dying inside from the tension.

"I've got to run home now," she managed to say. "Well, not run, with these crutches and all, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I should be going too. I'll see you around,” he mumbled, running his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. 

"See you."

And into separate directions they went, just as confused as ever.

______

"Kakashi, I swear to God, if you don't stay on your side of the bed, I'm gonna-

"You'll what? Hit me? Go ahead. You're the one that keeps snoring."

"Shut up!" she exclaimed, rolling over in the bed and planting her fist directly in the middle of his chest. He didn't even flinch, she hadn't meant to hurt him anyway. She was just so annoyed. You would think that the stoic Hatake would be easy to sleep beside but no, he was a pain in the ass. He was rude. He was way too hot under the sheets. He still smelled like dog even after taking a bath. Just overall a bad experience, definitely 0 out of 10.

"What? It's the truth."

She groaned, throwing one of her arms over her eyes, burying her nose in the crook of her elbow. "Whatever. Don't ever mention my snoring again. It’s embarrassing me." She was self-conscious. She was usually so good at maintaining a cool and calm presence and now Kakashi was seeing that all crumble. Great. 

"Fine."

"Can't you just stay on your side so we can both sleep comfortably?"

"Can't you just stop snoring so I can sleep comfortably?" 

What a bastard. She could practically feel him snickering beneath his mask, and she felt frustration bubbling up in her chest. He was annoying. The audacity of this man, laughing and causing trouble in the night when they clearly had a mission to continue tomorrow. She could actually feel the delight radiating off his form.

She jumped up from her spot and threw herself onto the man beside her, attempting to make a vicious grab for the throat so she could maybe shut him up for just a few seconds. He dodged easily, taking her wrists in his calloused hand and lowering them to rest on his chest. Still, he continued to laugh at her. She felt like an utter joke sitting there on his stomach, looking at him through loose strands of her hair. 

She grumbled under her breath, her cheeks puffing out full of embarrassment, "Stupid."

"Me? Stupid? Look at you."

She replied swiftly, "What about me? You're the one with that ugly grin on your face." Quickly, she snatched her hands out from under his to cross her arms over her chest. She rocked back a bit on her knees to get a better look at his indeed ugly face. 

Except he definitely wasn't ugly, and that grin was more devilishly handsome than anything else. And honestly, she felt herself starting to get flustered in the position she'd put herself in. Of course she didn't hate Kakashi. He was one of her friends and coworkers. It was just that sometimes he could be casually attractive and she found herself falling under his spell. 

He just looked so fucking good lying there, staring up at her with a glimmer in his dark eyes. She could see the smile outlined under his mask. His hands had felt warm and firm around her own fingers. She missed his touch, there she said it, any touch on her body from Kakashi Hatake felt like heaven. He was far too cute, and the soft contact between them drove her crazy.

She wanted to punch herself for thinking such silly things. This was Kakashi, one of her frenemies. Not boyfriend material. Stupid. Silly. 

If only he didn't look so good, Jesus christ. Get your brain out of the gutter, Y/N.

Little did she know, his mind was already waist deep in those damn gutters and he was loving it.

"You really think that?"

"What? That you're ugly?" She asked, tilting her head to the side just a bit as if to think about it. Only a second later, another mischievous smile crossed her lips. "Of course."

He lifted his fingers to slid along her waist and down to her hips, fingers curling ever so slightly around her curves. She shuddered as his hands slid down to hold the sides of her bare thighs in his hands, his warm, strong hands with the softest fingertips. She wanted to die.

Had they kissed before? Yes. We're they somewhat romantically involved? Maybe. Did that give him any good reason to rest his rough hands on her thighs like that? Probably, and her thoughts were running a mile a minute at this point. 

"Kakashi...stop that," she said softly, her voice lowering from how it was before. She suddenly felt a lot smaller, scared even. Hooking up with Kakashi wasn't something she planned on doing anytime in the near future, if at all. He was her friend, and she felt strange sitting in his lap with his hands all over her. It felt so right but wrong at the same time, like she was breaking the law. Well, laws of friendship that is.

She cared about Kakashi, more than she wanted to admit. He wasn't just a friend, he was something weirdly in between and she couldn't exactly put her finger on how she felt about him. All she knew was that if she was going to have sex with this man, it would be the right way. They would have to date first. She wasn't just gonna sleep around this time. He was different. 

She wanted to impress him, to make him smile and laugh, to take him out to dinner and hold hands on their way home, to kiss at her doorstep. She wanted all of that before any of this.

His hands dropped from her sides and she crawled away from him, grabbing her blanket and cradling herself in it. "Listen, Y/N, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I know, it's not your fault. Don't worry about it."

It was quiet. Just the sounds of both their breaths filling the air and the crickets chirping in the darkness outside. She shifted in her blanket to rest her head on the wall, leaning against it with her shoulder. He remained on his back, staring up at the empty ceiling tiles. 

It was now so terribly awkward. Thanks, Y/N.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You, uh, don't snore all that much. I was just teasing you."

"Thanks," she exhaled. "You're not as ugly as I said."

"I know."

Wow, Kakashi. So modest.

Her words fell right into place as she spoke, emotions slipping out with each breath. She looked at his profile in the dark, the way his bedhead stood on end, his nose pointed upward and his lips sat calmly, the curve of his chin under the edge of his mask, the way his eyes just sat there unmoving and gentle, brows soft above the eye. She took in all of him as she confessed, "I just don't want it to be like this. I don't want to fall for you this way."

"I get it."

"I just think that you and I could be something different. You're not like the other guys to me, at least, I don't think of you that way," she took a deep breath. He still stared deep in the ceiling, and somehow it made her comfortable enough to confess everything she'd been feeling. It was as if he could just lay there and listen without words forever. "I don't want you to just fuck me before we really...well I don't know, we've never even been on a date. I...I think I'm ready to fall in love with you."

"Then let's do it."

She peered over at him, lips agape with surprise. She hadn't expected much at all, but certainly not that. "What?"

"When we get back to the village, I'll take you on a date, more if things go well. We can take it as slow as you want," he told her, turning to lay on his side, facing her. He watched as she cuddled further into the comforter, only a peek of her face in his view. She was actually kinda cute through all those worn and torn layers. "I don't think I can let you go this time."

"Really?"

"Anything for you."

She ducked her head down to stare at the hardwood beneath her feet. She was overwhelmed by how nice he was being. Normally, it didn't go like this. Things normally got sexual so quick there wasn't even a chance for these sorts of conversations. It was just different with Kakashi. She could say no to him and expect better, because she knew he could deliver. "No one has ever treated me like this before."

He smiled. "Well, it's about time someone did."

"Can you hold me?"

"Come on." He lifted his arm up with the covers attached so she could crawl over and burrow herself next him, tucked right against his side. He rested his arm around her shoulders and held her close to his chest. Things were looking good for the both of them. Better than they had in a long time.

He wished this kind of thing could last forever. The beating of her heart, the laughter in her voice, the shine in her eyes. He just wished he could have bottled it all up and held it close to him for the rest of his life. 

But he waited too long, and the opportunity slipped from his grasp.

______

The pair fought hard. Kakashi was better than her, everyone knew that. The enemy targeted her for that reason. It was clear as day that she was important to Kakashi, and the enemy quickly caught onto that. He was quick to bring the knife to her neck, pressing the woman’s back tightly to his chest. The blade stung her skin, already piercing the flesh from the bit of pressure he applied.

She cried out, feeling a trail of blood begin running down her neck. Her nails clawed at his arm, desperate to get him to release her from his clutches, but he persisted. One hand held onto her chin tightly, keeping her face from thrashing, and the other continued to apply more and more pressure into the blade. 

For the first time in a long time, she found herself feeling unrestricted fear. She was scared. Scared for her life. She’d never been in this situation before, feeling so completely and utterly helpless like a deer caught in the headlights. Kakashi was right there, she should have known everything was going to be okay. After all, she had the village’s strongest veteran on her side.

It wasn’t the pain that caused the tears to bubble up in the corners of her eyes, no, it was Kakashi. The way his eyes darted over to the them, and she could feel his heart beginning to race, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, and the fear creeping up into his heart. He never wore his heart on his sleeve. He was so closed off, sometimes she could only get a wisp of emotion from him, especially the ones that showed such vulnerability. 

Now it all seemed to come tumbling out like a landslide. She was drowning in fear, his and her own. 

“Let her go,” he called out, practically pleading with the man across from him, but it was in vain. 

“Like I’d listen to some filthy leaf shinobi,” the spy replied angrily. He felt so hot, burning up with so much anger she wanted to throw up. What had they done to upset him this badly? Her jaw was starting to ache from being held so tightly, and she swore she could taste blood running down her throat. This was bad. This was so terribly, miserably bad. 

Kakashi stood there, his hands hovering at his sides, unknowing of what to do. She was already bleeding out all over the collar of her shirt. If he made a single move, the man could easily finish the job with one fatal swipe. The copy nin felt cornered. Hopeless. What was there left to do? He’d let the love of his life fall in the hands of some petty criminal. 

Come on, think of something. Anything. Just think of something.

“What? You upset I’ve got your little girlfriend here?”

God, he was so desperate. The man taunting him didn’t help at all. He just felt himself spiralling deeper into hopelessness. He bargained, “Please, just let her go. I’ll give you whatever you want.” 

It wouldn’t work though. This man was set in his ways, and there was no changing that. He came into this fight knowing exactly what he wanted to do. And he was going to finish the job. 

“This is for what you shinobi have done to my people,” he sneered before she felt the knife dip further into her neck, sliding painfully across her throat. He dropped her head from his grasp, and as soon as he had, her body crumbled down to the ground. She collapsed in a bleeding heap on the dirt. 

The criminal quickly ran into the forest behind them, getting lost among the trees and the bushes within seconds. None of that mattered though. Kakashi could only run over to her limp body lying there on the ground, sputtering and coughing on thick blood filling her throat and lungs. Her cheeks and lips painted red now from spitting so much up. He fell to his knees beside her body, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a tear drip down his face.

She cried, hot tears running down her cheeks into the dirt on either side of her head. She cried for her pathetic self, having been attacked and injured in this way. She cried for Kakashi, feeling the pain and sadness, the panic, radiating off his form. She took in every emotion he was feeling, wanting to savor being with him for as long as she had, to fully take him in one last time. 

“Y/N, it’s gonna be okay,” he whispered, his hands running over her hair and cheek, smearing blood on her skin and his fingers. “We’ll bring you back to the village. The Hokage can fix you.” His words were so soft into the air, like if he spoke any louder he would hurt her.

They both knew that none of what he was saying was true. She was as good as dead.

She lifted her hand weakly to sit on his other hand. “I…” The woman took a labored breath.. “Love you, Kashi.”

“No, no, no. Don’t say that,” he hushed her, feeling his heart grow heavier in his chest with every second that passed, every look at her bloody neck and face, her laboring chest as she took hopeless breaths. He was falling apart in this moment, desperate for fate to change, for her to magically be better. He choked, “You can’t die, Y/N.”

“It’s okay.” Her words were slurred and hard to hear, liquid bubbling up in her throat to the point she was almost incomprehensible. “I love you,” she confessed once again. She wanted those to be her last ever words to him, the words he would remember for the rest of his life. To know someone out there loved him more than anything else.

He had to know that he was her everything. He was the best thing that ever happened to her, and she was going to miss him so terribly wherever her soul went after this. She just wished there was more time to tell him everything she felt. Yet, time was passing faster than she thought, and all those words felt impossible.

“I love you, too. You have to live for me. Just keep breathing, it's going to be okay.”

“It...hurts.”

More misery erupted his chest, and he found himself wanting to scream. Tears dripped steadily down both his cheeks now as he watched this woman die in front of him, one of the only people he truly needed in his life. “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry I let this happen to you.”

She nodded faintly, her eyes beginning to close. He was starting to panic. Was this his last moment to say goodbye? Their time together was so short, how was this fair? He’d already lost everyone he ever cared about, and now this? He felt like the gods were laughing down at him and his misfortune. 

“You were the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know how I’ll do this without you.”

She didn’t respond, but she was still breathing. 

“Y/N, please.”

And he watched as her chest fell still and her labored breaths were silent on his ears. He found himself gathering her form up against his chest, her head cradled in the crook of his neck, just sobbing into her hair, weeping for a long lasting love gone in an instant. 

 He carried her body home that day himself. Something he never anticipated happening, but should have prepared for. He always thought he was going to watch as someone else carried her home to him, death long gone before he had the chance to see. He never thought it would be right in front of him. He thought he could protect her, save her from the clutches of fate. He was so wrong.

Kakashi was alone once again.

[thesightstoshowyou]

Nightmare

Asa Emory x AFAB Reader (NSFW)

Part 4

Read Part 3 here

Summary: Asa has a nightmare, then you have a waking one. This is a sexy little interlude with a smidgen of plot.

Warnings: Biting, creampie, Stockholm Syndrome

@little-lily-w  @quiveringdeer

 ~~

             You awake with a start, your half-formed gasp dying on your tongue. You’d dreamed of bloody mouths with no teeth and…. The details are already slipping away. You will your pounding heart to slow.

            Morbid fascination overtakes you and, unable to stop yourself, you glance down at the huge, circular stain on the floor. It looks inky black in the unlit room. Asa had cleaned, disposed of the body, but the evidence is still plain to see splattered on the floor and the walls.

            You wonder who the man had been before he’d found his way here. Did he have a family? What had he done for a living?

             The mattress shifts behind you and you whip around, panic surging. Immediately, you calm, and disbelief takes the place of fear. Asa’s wide shoulders face away from you. He’s stretched out on the bed, on top of the comforter like he had laid down to rest for a moment but fell asleep instead. Can he really be asleep?

             Timidly, you push yourself to sitting and peer over Asa’s shoulder. His eyes are closed, lips parted, chest rising and falling rhythmically. He’s either asleep or a fantastic actor.

             You jump when he twitches. A quiet noise leaves his lips, like a mix between a whine and a word you can’t make out. He’s asleep, and he’s dreaming.

             Asa’s brow furrows and another pitiful noise leaves his lips along with a few shallow breaths. A nightmare, perhaps. You’re in awe; you doubt anyone else has ever seen him this vulnerable. He’d never allow it.

             You reach your hand out to wake him but you pause, fingers hovering just over his shoulder. He would be furious if he found out you’d witnessed him asleep and mid-nightmare. He’d punish you, reassert his dominance.

             Quickly, you pull your arm back to your chest. Instead, you rest your head on the pillow once more and, gingerly, you scoot toward him until you’re curled up against his broad back. You hear his breathing even out and feel his shoulders relax under your palms.

             So, he’s human after all. You were beginning to wonder if he was a monster manifested from your worst nightmares. It’s reassuring, in a strange way, to know there’s a soul in there somewhere, the wretched, twisted thing it must be.

             Asa is incredibly warm, comfortingly so. Your eyelids droop, the steady pace of his breathing lulling you. Your last thought before sleep claims you is of his childhood; who raised him? Who warped him like this? Who created the Collector?

*

             You startle awake to the feel of a calloused palm tracing the curve of your waist. A tiny, panicked whimper escapes you, your sluggish brain struggling to comprehend where you are.

             “Shh,” Asa whispers in your ear and you calm, relieved it’s him and not another of his creations. Teeth graze your neck and goosebumps instantly raise across your skin. Your fingers curl into the sheets when Asa’s hand dips between your legs to tease your inner thighs, and it is then you realize your hands are free. He’s never left you unrestrained before.

             You’re rolled onto your stomach and Asa rolls with you, pinning you under him with his own body. His hand sneaks between you and the mattress, slipping down your abdomen to stroke you through your already damp panties. You bite your lip when you feel his mouth curl into a grin against your ear.

             You raise your hips off the bed only for Asa to grind you back into the mattress. His hand finds your neck, fingers curling around your collar before rutting his hard, clothed cock into your ass. You whine, forcing your hips to still.

             “What do you want?” he murmurs against your ear, husky voice sending a shiver down your spine. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. He’s going to make you say it?

             “Y-you,” you mutter, sucking in a quick breath when his fingers push your panties to the side to brush against your dripping entrance.

             A quiet chuckle, then, “You’re going to have to be more specific.” Why does he have to be so fucking talkative today?

             “You, Asa. I want…I want you to f-fuck me,” you admit, clenching your eyes shut with shame.

             “Better.” His weight leaves your back and you hear his belt clink, feel the cold metal of the buckle brush against your ass as he works his zipper open. Asa’s fingers hook into the lace of your underwear, dragging them down your legs and off before he’s climbing back over you.

             Tentatively, you lift your hips again. He allows it this time, cockhead pushing against your slippery entrance. You drop your head to the mattress and sigh when he eases into you, settling his weight against your back once more. His fingers return to your collar, the other hand bracing itself on the comforter.

             You focus on his knuckles, covered in jagged, white scares and bloody lacerations new and old. A couple of his nail beds are black, bruised from some trap or another. Is the rest of him this beat up?

             The leisurely roll of his hips pulls you from your reverie and a surprised moan leaves your throat. You were expecting to be hammered into oblivion, as usual. The way he thrusts into you now could almost be described as tender. Are you the one dreaming now?

            Asa bites back a groan. You can hear the way it strains in his throat, trying to escape, and that sends heat roiling in your belly. Your own mewl tumbles, unchecked, from your lips and Asa responds to the sound with an insistent thrust.

            The fingers in your collar move to your hip, tilting you how he wants before fucking back into your welcoming cunt. You dig your nails into the sheets, holding the angle so his hand can return to your neck. Without fail, he finds that perfect trigger within you that has you quivering and moaning your appreciation.

            “A-Asa,” you beg, letting him know that you’re quickly approaching that beautiful precipice. He growls, deep in his throat when you say his name. The sound goes straight between your legs, the possessiveness behind it making you throw your hips back against him as if you’re agreeing.

            “Fuck,” he groans, teeth sinking into your shoulder. That does it for you. You careen off the edge, tumbling into ecstasy with what you think is a, “Thank you,” on your lips, but what you say instead has your eyes flying open in horror.

            “I love you.”

            This is a dream. A nightmare. That phrase could not have left your lips.

             Asa freezes behind you. He inhales deeply, hand on your neck going to your jaw, mouth returning to your ear.

             “Say it again,” he orders, no trace of levity left in his voice. He’s all business now. Asa’s hips return to their task with gusto, now bucking fervently into you.

             You can’t say it again.

             “I-I love you,” you whisper, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Apparently, you can.

             With a strangled groan, Asa cums, hips erratic as he fills you with sticky warmth. He pulls out of you a few moments later, flipping you onto your back and holding your face in his hands.

             You don’t want to look at him. You’re reeling, shock, horror, and a million other emotions churning in your tumultuous mind. Asa tips your chin up so he can examine your teary, mismatched eyes.

             There’s something in his own eyes, just barely noticeable under the cool apathy. If you didn’t know him so well you doubt you would have noticed. It almost looks like….

             Triumph.

[atomic--peach]

Petty Victories 

“I hate it” Sirius brooded aloud in the sitting room of his childhood home. “I hate that he’s alive, I hate that he’s out there and I’m in here, and I hate that there’s nothing I can do about it.” 

“Hm” Remus nodded, having heard this a million times before. 

The topic of Sirius’s loathing today was Peter Pettigrew and his continued existence on the mortal plane. And he had every right to his hatred, after all it was because of Peter that James and Lily Potter were dead and that Sirius was a wanted man unable to leave the confines of this wretched house. 

But after the 5th lap around this particular track, Remus had stopped listening, occasionally checking back in if Sirius said something new, which was almost never. 

“What I wouldn’t do to get my hands on that rotten rat, I’d make him wish he’d never been born” 

“Yeah” Remus agreed absently, “If it makes you feel any better, Snape’s fucking his wife.” 

Sirius froze, attempting to process the statement that had abruptly broken the steady pace of his usual ranting. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah, crazy right?” Remus sat in the easy chair next to Sirius, “Apparently You-know-who’s got the little shit holed up in Snape’s house spying on him, but Snape has him sleeping in the cellar. Anyway, for a while now I guess Snape likes to fuck with his head, so he has her come over and...well.” 

“Does she not know he’s there?” Sirius blinked, still too dumbstruck to question the story.

“Nah, that’s the best part.” Remus chuckled a little bitterly, “she still thinks he’s dead, so he can’t do shit but hide down there while his wife puts out for Severus Snape of all people.” 

“No shit?” Sirius laughed, “Wait, how do you know all this?” 

“I had to go over to pick up some of my potions, I guess he made some in bulk so he wouldn’t have to talk to me” Remus explained, “Anyway, I go over early in the morning and knock on the door and there she is, just standing there in the doorway in nothing but her knickers and one of his shirts! I don’t think she recognized me, but Snape pulled her back in the house before we could talk.”

Sirius scoffed at that, amused that anyone in Snape’s position would be concerned about decency. 

“Anyway, that’s when he told me he’d have to have a messenger deliver the rest, because if Pettigrew saw me hanging around he’d rat and it would be too dangerous.” 

Remus finished his salacious tale, giving Sirius something pleasant to chew on throughout the meeting that evening. 

“So uh, Snape...”

Severus glowered up up at the man from the report in front of him, not responding but acknowledging that he’d heard him. 

“That house of yours....awful old innit?”

“I suppose.”

“Yeah? Thin walls, I guess?”

“Hm”

“Yeah” Sirius thought a moment, eyeing the man with a curiously unreadable expression. “I’d bet it’s got those old sort of vents where you can hear what’s happening from across the house, right?”

“Is there a point to this line of questioning, or are you just being a pest?” Snape snapped at the man. 

Sirius raised his hands by his head and leaned back, “Just trying to have a conversation.” 

Snape rolled his eyes, leaving the table to bid Dumbledore farewell before leaving for the evening. As he left, he passed Remus, whom he stopped swiftly by snatching his sleeve and glaring at him lowly. 

“You told Black, didn’t you?”

Remus sighed, “It was the only way to get him to stop talking. You can only listen to the same rant so many times, you know?”

Snape growled and left the house in a huff as Sirius jogged up behind. 

“You know!” He shouted after him encouragingly, “I hear floor sex is all the rage these days! Good for the back and all!”

“Fuck off!” 

[kureis-writing-hell]

What makes us

First || Previous

This one isn't based on a prompt. I tried to base it and it didn't work and I had to scratch it whole. This is a story of Nao's childhood and what happened to him before his 18th birthday.

A series in which Chisaki Kai goes through therapy

Tw: hinted csa (child sexual abuse, it's really just a tiny hunt but it's there), blood, death

Shit went down when Nikodem was only a few years old. In a fight between a hero and a villain his parents died. People told him it was a miracle he was saved, but later on he would regularry think it was rather a curse. It started a life of misery for him: a foster family that gave him away once his quirk manifested, a dirty, poor orphanage ruled by a man, who liked little boys a little too much, another foster family that used him as a servant, another one and another one. No one really wanted him, no one cared about him anymore. Every year less people were interested in adopting him, creeped out by a frowny kid with a crazy look in his eyes.

Often, Nikodem thought that he would never find home. But then he met that girl.

She was new. Other kids kept themselves away from her, even the staff was reluctant to approach her. It was said she predicted her parents’ deaths then, right before she ended up alone, she pointed out the exact date and hour her grandmother died. It was her quirk, obviously. A shitty, creepy one, that made her see a clock on people’s heads, counting down to their deaths.

They got along well. She was two years older than Nikodem but, contrary to the boy, was a bubbly rain of sunshine. Nothing seemed to be able to break her, not her quirk, not the place she ended up in. Despite that, families still wouldn’t take her in.

She told everyone to call her Mara. It was taken from her name and Nikodem found it pretty. Mara was the only one he enjoyed spending time with. He enjoyed her stories, her future plans, the way she could kick ass and piss the staff off. He enjoyed everything about her and would follow her everywhere.

When Mara turned sixteen she stood face to face with Nikodem and told him they were going to run away. There was nothing he wanted more than that - to leave that wretched place. So they packed, gathered a few other kids that wanted to run as well, stole some food and vanished.

No one cared. There was an article about them in some magazine, a handsome man spoke some words about them in the news but other than that no one cared about a few orphans. They left the city, the district, they ran from a train because they didn’t have money to pay for the ticket and Nikodem for the first time ever felt free. Happy.

They had a house. After running they found an old factory in the suburbs of another city. Quickly they learned how to use their quirks for stealing food, clothes, books and whatever they wanted. Everyone had their place in the gang, someone played with old parts and fixed motors, so they could get around easier, someone cooked, someone learned how to patch up wounds. Nikodem quickly started calling them a family, everyone did.

They danced, laughed, watched stars and loved at that time.

“What would you do if you knew you’re going to die tomorrow?”

They were sitting on the tin roof late in the night, only Nikodem and Mara. The rest had a campfire under them, celebrating nothing in particular. The view from the roof was amazing, the stars and the night sky were swallowed by the lights of the city, but it was quiet. At that hour even the city was asleep.

Nikodem turned to Mara, frowning. Finally something clicked and, with a shocked face, he covered his forehead. Mara laughed.

“You can’t cover it, dumbass! Don’t worry, you still have a lot of time. I’m just asking.”

“You did that on purpose.” Nikodem pouted and lowered his hand.

“Maybe! So? What would you do?”

Nikodem thought, for a moment. He turned his face toward the view and watched the lights. Mara drank her beer, waiting for his answer.

“I’d kiss you.”

The girl chocked on the beer, sputtered and looked at the boy surprised. Nikodem could feel his face getting hot, even his ears and neck were probably red at this point, but the color got lost in the darkness. He didn’t dare to look at Mara and even if he would he couldn’t see how she also blushed.

“Okay,” she said finally.

“What?”

“Okay. We may kiss.”

Nikodem looked at her, finally. He again covered his forehead.

“It was true, I’m going to die tomorrow, right?”

“No you’re not, moron!” Mara pushed him playfully, hiding her embarrassment. “I just want to do it too!

And so they kissed, under the stars, on the roof with the best view ever.

They got good at what they were doing quickly. They wore masks for stealing, they used upgraded motors for moving around, they came in, stole what they needed and then wandered around the city freely, because no one would ever suspect a bunch of children. And now everyone was talking about them. Their masks, something they picked up from dumpsters, were so popular everyone knew how they looked. They had fans and enemies and they had heros after them. Yet every night they had a party in their base. They drank alcohol, ate good food, kissed and made love. And they were free.

She never told him, or anyone else from their gang, when they’re going to die. But once she told them about her own number. Apparently she could see it in the mirror and Nikodem never ever hated quirks more than in that moment. It was just wrong.

Mara was sick. There was something in their family, something too scientific for Nikodem to understand, that killed her mother and mother of her mother. Normally, raised in a normal house, she would survive till her late twenties. With expensive treatment and medications she could maybe live till her forties. Her current number allowed her to stay alive till she was twenty three.

Nikodem didn’t accept it. He couldn’t. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t afford a better living situation or meds. He was angry and he was determined to get even more money, to allow her the treatment she needed. Everyone agreed to him, except Mara. She didn’t want to draw too much attention to them and she was already used to the idea of dying. She was angry at him, for a while. Then she couldn’t anymore.

Nikodem was sixteen when he told her he loved her too much to let her go that easily.

.

They couldn’t go on the raids when it was raining because it was too risky. They used to store the food for winters because during them it was too dangerous to raid the city. They did only necessary to survive every year. Now, it changed. And now they realised they were way more powerful than they thought. Their gang was classified as rank B villains, with Nikodem deemed their leader, classified as rank A. There was more planning, more stress and way more risk but, surprisingly, it brought them all even closer to each other.

It was just getting warm, the snow still didn’t melt in the darker corners of their base but the days were sunny and bright and hot. And the rain that came wasn’t risky. It was warm, too. It washed over Nikodem’s stress and worries and Mara’s long, pretty dress. And they danced in it, laughed and kissed.

“You’re turning eighteen this year, we should throw you a party!” she said once they were inside, in dry clothes, drinking hot tea.

“It’s still a few months.”

“So? Isn't any reason to party good?”

“But it’s a birthday. We should celebrate it when it comes.”

Mara pouted. She looked so cute, with her nose and cheeks still reddened, wrapped in a blanket from head to toes. He loved her so much.

“Look at you, what made you smile like a dumbass? That’s a rare sight.” Embarrassed, Nikodem turned his face away. Mara laughed and clung to his side. “I like it, you have a funny smile. You should do it more!”

He decided to try his hardest.

.

Blood.

Everything around him was red and it was his fault.

They were so close to getting enough money for Mara that Nikodem got impatient. He wanted to gather enough as fast as possible and he came out with the idea of that raid. It was going to be the hardest one till now, but they had a good plan. They planned it for a month. And it worked out! But then the heroes found their hideout.

“Those are children! I had no idea those were children, I couldn’t know!” lamented one of the heroes, the one that came in first. Under his quirk the roof of the old factory collapsed, something caught fire and the tanks they had stored exploded. Most of Nikodem’s gang was outside, thankfully, but they also got hurt.

They still had masks on when other heroes arrived. They fought. Nikodem got crushed under the part of the factory and couldn’t get out on time to help them. He had to watch how his friends, his only family, fought for their lives and lost. Blood spilled all around him and he couldn’t do anything.

When he finally got out the heroes were searching for survivors. But no one could survive this. They were either crushed under the factory or fought till death. And Nikodem stood in the puddle of their blood.

It hurted to move, it even hurted to breathe but he had to find Mara. He had to make sure she was alive and help her, and anyone else that still could be alive, escape. He was their leader, he came up with that raid, it was all his fault.

Stepping over the body of his friend, someone he ate breakfast with this morning, he went forward. The heroes were arguing, Nikodem could hear his voices, but didn’t pay attention to them. He took off his mask and threw it away, searching for a different one, one that he knew Mara was still wearing.

He found her, laying right by a part of the factory that miraculously didn’t fall on her. There was still a hole in her stomach that Nikodem immediately jumped to, to cover the bleeding. Mara trembled and huffed something that Nikodem didn’t understand. Holding his shirt against her abdomen with one hand he took off her mask.

Her lips were covered in blood but she was smiling. She kept looking at him and Nikodem was glad she was awake.

“That went to shit, eh?” she rasped.

“Don’t joke now, please.” Nikodem couldn’t hold back his tears. It was slowly hitting him, what exactly happened.

“I want to tell you something.”

“You shouldn’t talk, you’ll tell me once you get better but now you have to save your energy.”

She smiled at him and her smiles were never that sad.

“I knew this was going to happen.” Nikodem only shook his head. “Yeah. I did the math when everyone’s numbers started going down. I never thought they could change before.”

“It’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not.” Mara coughed and spit some blood. “If anyone’s then it’s mine. I should have told you to stop with the raids but I knew no one would listen. And it made me happy to know you all are doing this for me. Selfish.”

“You weren’t selfish!” sobbed Nikodem. “I was, I wanted to spend more time with you and I took your time away!”

“That’s not true.” She managed to laugh a little. “You actually let me live. Everyone else too, but you especially. Thank you.” Nikodem shook his head again. He could feel blood sipping through the material of his shirt. “Can I have one more selfish request?”

“I’ll do anything for you.”

“Live.” Mara lifted her hand and touched Nikodem’s forehead. He grabbed it and helped her keep the arm up, snuggling into it. It was too cold but he didn’t mind. “Your minutes are tickling down but I don’t want you to die because of me. Please, promise me that you won’t die.”

“I don’t want to. How am I supposed to, when everyone is dead? I can’t live without you.”

“You can.” Her fingers brushed just slightly against Nikodem’s forehead. “Please. Do anything you could. Don’t fight these heroes, surrender, do anything you can.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to die knowing everyone I ever loved died because of me.” She was speaking more and more silently. “At least you. Especially you, Niko.”

For a moment Nikodem tried to hold back his tears. But they didn’t. They started flowing harder.

“I promise,” he whimpered. “I’ll do anything. I swear.”

Mara opened her eyes wider and, after a moment, smiled wide. Her thumb brushed against Nikodem’s forehead and then her hand went limp.

“I’ll ask them, I’ll beg them to help you. They’re heroes, maybe they have a healing quirk, you’ll be fine too!” Nikodem made a crooked smile, one that was meant for comfort but he knew Mara would laugh at it. “I could even pay them, the money should be fine in the safe. We’ll be okay.” Mara didn’t answer. Her eyes kept looking at him and her smile didn’t vanish but she wasn’t reacting at all. Nikodem felt his heart sink. “Mara? Mara, don’t joke, please. Dagmara!”

When the heroes found him Nikodem was still sitting by Mara’s body. He didn’t fight, he surrendered and let them handcuff him. He lost everything but he made a promise. And that promise would keep him alive.