#what do you mean there’s humans on here?!

[l-in-the-light]

This cultural mechanism of denying humanity of certain individuals (most often villains) has a name. Rene Girard wrote about it in his book called The Scapegoat. I tried finding ANY reblog of this post which actually mentions this, but despite scrolling through at least half of reblogs, I couldn't find it, which means even if someone did point it out then it still went pretty much unnoticed.

We all know who or what a scapegoat is. It's that thing or that person, the root of evil, the source of chaos, the troublemaker, the trickster disrupting the long established safety and order (which is, ofc, the ultimate good). If you only get rid of the problematic individual, everything will be okay again. That's how it works. But there's a problem with it. There's never one scapegoat. After one comes another, and another, and another, till you get hundreds and thousands of them and you can't fit them in one neat grave or prison anymore. They keep coming and there will be more and more of them, this will never stop, because it's a cycle. A cycle of violence. If you really want for "things to be okay", you need to break that cycle, instead of finding YET another scapegoat, yet another villain to bury for all of our sins. By sacrficing another villain, another victim, another scapegoat on the altar of society, you only support the cycle to keep on going.

Yes, you heard me right. Villains are scapegoats. But victims ARE scapegoats as well. Anyone we forcefully silence and refuse to give agency to is the scapegoat. The homeless, the LGBT, the mentally different, any disabled people etc. Anyone who fits into a very broad category of "otherness". But here's the catch. Because this category is so broad it's very easy to become that "other". That's why people are willing to go to extreme lengths just to make sure no one sees them as "other". They will deny their disabilities, they will deny they're not like those "others", they will even deny their own struggles, just to fit into the safe mold of "normal". And if you silence yourself just because you're afraid you might be the next one victimized or villainized, you're also a scapegoat, btw. Your inner life and self-consistency is the sacrifice on the altar of society that doesn't care if you actually have a heart. All it cares about is for you to make sure you're "normal", which has a very murky definition too. Who's normal? The one who acts like the majority of others? The one who has the applause? (applause can be shortlived and depends on trends, it's dangerous, you're dancing on the edge). Every time we see someone as the "other" we judge, we're scapegoating them. Yes, all of us, by succumbing to our fear of being judged, contribute to this mechanism. Otherwise the seams of the society might fall apart and we can all turn against each other, we can rip apart the system, they warn us of anarchy, you might get killed in the middle of the street, there will be no police to guard the order, no prisons to keep the bad eggs away from you. Stay quiet, endure, it's for the safety of all of us.

No one should have to carry that weight of the whole world on their own shoulders. Not like this. But we do, every single day.

We're all capable of being bad people and often are. But we also all want to believe we're good. People think if someone didn't get love there's a reason of why they didn't receive it. That belief didn't come out of nowhere. It's internalized violence and judgemental mentality. You prefer to doom someone else as long as it saves yourself from being doomed. You're not only hurting others with it, but YOURSELF as well in the process. You get rid of your true empathy for others, you decide whose pain or suffering is the one "worthy" of acceptance and which is not and needs to be condemned. You can't afford that empathy for anyone else than you after a while, after all you live in constant, silent fear of "being next" if you just stop for a moment and look too long at the scapegoats buried around you. And what you fail to see is that you're also a scapegoat. If we all accept each other and ourselves as "others", if we're all just different people and no one is normal anymore, will this finally break the cycle?

You want to feel like a good person? Of course, we all do. But you can't achieve that if you're too afraid to look into the abyss/mirror and realize you also do bad things. You also need to redeem yourself. You can do better, but it's not easy. You know what's easy instead? Finding a scapegoat and blaming them for their own misery. Literally requires no work, the world will applause you and all you need to do is repeat same words after others. The mechanism works like a perpetuum mobile at this point, it will mostly do this job for you. Just take a stand, deem the villains, blame the victims, ignore the struggles and pain of others.

But here's the catch. If you're too cold, you're also gonna be judged and called a psychopath. That's also a no-no, you're becoming the unacceptable "other" again. You have to show, in specific, allowed circumenstances, that you feel sorry for others. That you know how to choose the "right" side. That you understand "good" needs sacrfices and sometimes you're even expected to cry for them. And if you see those sacrfices as not-human "others", it's easier to accept it all.

Many people claim how scary it is to face certain truths, like "victims can turn into villains too", but the real truth no one wants to face is actually this: we allowed this to happen. We allowed the villains to be formed, all of us. Every time we engage in judgemental actions, every time we police someone dealing with their pain "in wrong way", every time we call someone "born evil". Every time we point a finger and call someone a villain, a victim, a barbarian, the other. By doing that we trap them in endless world of pain and suffering and abuse. They also want to be out of that cycle, but we keep trapping them, by silencing them and adding our own narrative on top. They suffer for our sins. Because they're our scapegoat, the sacrifice we made to keep on going, thinking how good this world is and how much worse it could have been, just look in the right places. Just don't look at the scapegoats too long. They corrupt. Maybe their otherness is even contagious, so stay as far away from them as possible.

You're allowed to be mad about this, btw. Anger is a neccessary emotion, it points at injustice done to you. But the society wants you to throw that emotion away and supress it, so you're tamed and silenced. It might even create a "safe space" to vent it out, by encouragig you into physical activities or taking part in some entertainment, so you can lose your steam in a way that doesn't challenge the system. It's a distraction. (the point here isn't to condemn sport or popculture btw, it just serves as an example, ok?)

All communities work like this. We're all trapped in endless cycle of violence. We bury endless scapegoats under our communities, they become our foundations. After all, nothing unites different people better than finding a common villain, it's us (the good) vs them (the evil). Wait, did I just say "different people"? But we're supposed to be all the same! No, that's a myth. We were all always different. We just have to choose who is "more different than others", so we can unite ourselves against them.

You know what that reminds me of? "We're all equal. But some are more equal than others". Animal farm was about power structures. By accepting easy scapegoats, by abiding to this mechanism, we support the power system that oppresses us. Think about it. Our civilisation is build on this and it would not thrive the way it did without the scapegoats.

And all of you blaming christianity for this instead, you need to understand one thing. What Jesus taught was actually the reverse of scapegoating. “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her”. This is literally Jesus telling people "you all have sinned, so why are you judging them if you don't judge yourself?". What you all mean by christian/puritanist beliefs is how christianity got distorted and institutionalized into a power abusing system called religion. Swallowed up by what it tried to fight against. Always identify the actual source of abuse, instead of doing more scapegoating. I'm in no way inclined to defend christianity (not in the form it exists now), but also if we keep on muddling the truth we will always make the same mistake, so, always dig deeper to avoid it. Thank you.

not to post even more Villains Discourse on main but it really bugs me how people read giving villains tragic backstories as inherently excusing their actions and/or demonizing trauma survivors.

the actual message of Tragic Villains is (almost) always “people who are never taught or given any healthy, constructive outlets for their emotions will often find unhealthy, destructive outlets.” it’s that people who are traumatized and never learn how to cope with that trauma can become a danger to themselves and others. the message isn’t “trauma makes you evil!!!!” or “genocide is okay if you’ve been sad before!!!!” it’s “people need compassion and help to recover from trauma instead of becoming increasingly angry and harming themselves and others in the process.”

this site takes an alarmingly behaviorist and punitive approach to everything and it’s literally the most annoying thing. y’all have this concept that “if we just punish people hard enough, if we just scare them enough, if we just make them feel guilty enough.” that people just Do Bad Things Because They Do Bad Things, I Guess, and Because We Didn’t Threaten Them And Shame Them Enough. but humans are an innately social species. at our very core, we need compassion and kindness. we need healthy relationships with other humans.

you can keep looking at traumatized villains and being like “haha this dumb pathetic sadboi thinks murder is okay because his parents died” but as a survivor myself, unaddressed/untreated trauma absolutely can make you ragey and destructive. i was lucky enough to have support and eventually get the treatment i needed. but it’s not hard at all for me to imagine how, if that hadn’t been the case, that could’ve been me. obviously not on a movie-villain scale like murder or war crimes, but it’s so irritating as someone whose trauma has always manifested as anger to watch people on this site be like “this is just bad writing!!! real survivors/good survivors don’t end up like that the writers just hate survivors and want the audience to condone murder!”

[muntitled]

Force-Fed

Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: You didn't need a job. Not when you only needed him.

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Language, Coercion, Standards Relationship, Abuse, Isolation, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Jealousy, Codependency, Stalking, Yandere!Salesman, Smut (+18) mdni, DDLG, Taboo Sex (she literally calls him dad), Freudian Slip, Daddy Kink, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Subspace, Slight!Age Regression, Choking, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Dacryphillia, Breeding Kink

A/n: If this isn't your vibe, leave the fic alone. Read something else. Like always I'm not responsible for the media you consume.

Installing a mobile tracker on your phone might not have been the most morally good thing to do, that he could admit. Perhaps even more incriminating is that the idea struck him while you were passed out on the floor, your body thoroughly spent from all his ravaging. He was nothing if not an inquisitive man and he needed to see what you got up to during the week, when you were without him. (Note: this started out as a precaution. For your own good. You ought to be thankful to have someone like him in your life).

Who knew that the tracker would bring him here?

His jaw is screwed shut as he leans down under the awning of a building, spotting you through the window of a tired coffee shop, donning a uniform he hadn't even known you owned- it set him alight with a certain level of possessiveness that was foreign to him.

He admits that before you, he'd never had much use for any pointless emotions like love or care. They were, at their very core function, just hormones injected into the brain in order to trick humans into reproduction. That's what he saw you as for the longest time: A means of reproduction. A conduit through which he could fulfill all his most absurd fantasies- fantasies that scared even himself.

When he hit you, fondled you, groped you or stretched your body beyond its tantalizing capabilities, he truly believed he was making you useful, and in return for your services you got to coast through university without having to worry about bills.

That's what it was supposed to be. Nothing less and certainly nothing more.

So what the hell is this?

Today is a Tuesday and your 'sessions' together are scheduled on Wednesday. He ought to just keep on walking and go about the rest of his day forgetting having ever seen you.

As far as your agreement was concerned, you were strictly expected to leave him to his devices throughout the week- it never occurred to him that he would also be expected to leave you to yours.

It makes him tsk, seeing you scrub the counters of a cafe... as if you didn't have him to provide for you.

Had he not provided you with enough?

Had you not gotten everything you wanted?

You were like a dog without a leash.

And his hand was itching to pull you right back to him.

He walks into the coffee shop before his brain is finished processing his movements.

"Good afternoon-" greeted the young man behind the counter. The place smelt like roasted coffee beans and debt. It's obvious in the very few patrons milling about that this business was doomed to fail. Your Salesman had a knack for spotting abject poverty and the owner- your boss, one Lee Junmin was teetering on the edge of financial ruin. It's a very good thing that your Salesman is here to save you from this sinking ship.

"Good afternoon," your salesman says stiffly, almost amicably.

He finds you mid-conversation with your coworker. There's a smile on your face as you crane your neck back, holding a cup under the burning faucet of a coffee machine. You're speaking amicably and you're still smiling. Genuinely. Not at all the robotic smile you reserved for the Salesman during your 'sessions'.

He realises now, watching you with a real smile plastered on your face, that you had been lying to him. You don't seem as broken as you claim to be. Seeing you here, assimilated into society. Sporting a part time job?

His knuckles clench around the handle of his briefcase. He was brimming with the need to punish you for it.

It's absurd.

To punish someone for being a fully functional human being. Not even his own psychological issues could adequately reason that.

The younger boy behind the counter rests a hand on your shoulder, finally letting your eyes settle on the tall Salesman behind the counter.

He can see the moment your breath catches in your throat.

How he wishes he had his heavy hands wrapped tight around that throat. He'd choke you for trying to get rid of him. For trying to... not need him.

"Could you take care of this customer? I need to go out for a break-" Your co-worker mumbles quietly and your heart drops like a bag of dipped in molten lava at the sight of him standing there on the opposite end of the counter. There's a smug sort of smirk playing across his features. I've caught the traitor, now it's off with your head.

You begrudgingly steel your nerves before turning to face your co-worker again, trying to even your breathing as you assimilate back into your easy banter, "And how many times have I told you smoking is bad for you-"

Your co-worker raises his tattooed hands, sporting a boyish grin. It's oddly refreshing to interact with a boy your age- someone normal who wasn't drowning in psychopathic tendencies or bullying homeless people for fun.

"Who said I'm going for a smoke break?" He asks, as you slide up to the counter. You situated yourself behind the barrier as if it was going to keep you safe. You knew nothing could keep you safe from the tense shadow hovering over your benefactor's eyes. The Salesman is livid as your co-worker finally makes himself scarce and after a few tense seconds, he finally speaks.

"I didn't know you did this." He says, staring you down the bridge of his nose.

Play it calm. Play it cheeky. Play it coy.

"You didn't know I make coffee?" That snooty remark doesn't earn you a single gratifying chuckle. It doesn't even earn you a soft, meaningless smile. In contrast, all it gets you is monotony. He's pissed.

"Worked." He spits out, "I didn't know you worked."

You only manage to stare up at him, silently before turning your attention to the screen in front of you.

There were a great many things he had already stolen from you- full autonomy over your body being the greatest loss. You'd raise up hell itself before you truly let him strip you of your independence.

"What can I get you for today?" Swift. Curt. Professional. As if you hadn't felt this man inside you. As if he hadn't choked you out until your vision was sparkling with stars. As if you didn't have his cock down your throat. No one here knew about your arrangement. In this coffee shop, you were safe from your history with the Salesman.

"Americano," You sigh softly, thinking he'll respect you enough to keep things professional. Poor, naive you.

“Tell them you quit." He says, forcing you to look up at his cold, dead orbs. "Do it now."

Your finger pause over the screen and your breathing picks up.

He couldn't do this. Not here. Not when you've finally found refuge away from him, his sadism, his demands and his reminders that he held the keys to you obtaining your degree. This coffee shop was the one place he couldn't reach you...

So why were you already on the cusp of giving in?

Your eyes flit over to the few patrons milling about before staring up at the man on the other side of the counter. Daylight was dwindling and beyond the windows, the city was drenched in an orange, almost pink late afternoon glow.

"Your order's coming right up."

"This place is going bankrupt soon. They'll fire you. It's better you quit now before they do." Your hands falter as you struggle to swallow that deeply authoritative veneer in his voice. That fatherly sort of guidance. Be careful, it said.

"Oh, this is you protecting me?" You hated that this was taking place at work, but business is indeed slow and the only other worker here is in the back of the building, smoking away his problems.

"Not protecting you." He says with a shake of his head, as a slow smile curls the ends of his lips, "Warning you."

You rolled your eyes then. It made his hand twitch with the need to correct you. To force you to submit to him. If there's one thing he couldn't stand, it's a rabid little girl.

"You can have a seat while you wait for your Americano-"

"Fuck the Americano." It comes out louder than he intended. It's a surprise, just like the vein popping out of his forehead. His mask was slipping.

"Tell them you wanna quit." He says in a much softer, more in-control tone of voice. He leans against the counter so that the words exchanged are heard only by the two of you.

There is deep anger and menace in his eyes. You can see the warning in them. Its blood-red and calling for you to just submit.

But you're feeling particularly brave. And so you immediately respond.

"Or what?"

"Or I’ll fucking kill you. You or that co-worker." His gaze fits to the door through which the boy disappeared as he sighed and said, "Remember the roommate's boyfriend?"

How could you ever forget?

There was blood.

So much blood.

Who knew humans were walking around with that much blood inside them?

"You want to threaten me out of having a job?" You were losing this battle and quickly. Desperation is the only thing you cling to as your eyes peer up at him.

"Want to?" He shakes, “Little Girl, I am threatening you. Quit now. Your co-worker would greatly appreciate it.”

He taps that counter once before taking a seat. "I'll get that Americano to go."

𓂃

Devastation.

A hyperbole of sadness and a pure manifestation of self pity that overwhelmed you in the taxi ride back to your apartment. Your mind replayed the confusion that graced your co-workers friendly face when you told him you 'just couldn't work here anymore'. The genuine sadness in his eyes had stopped you dead in your tracks. It triggered tears that you didn't even know you had because he actually made you feel loved.

Real love, not the fake stuff given to you by this hulking man seated silently in the taxi beside you.

The interior is flooded with neon lights and myriad little stars are plastered in the black sky.

"Fix your face," he grumbles without looking at you, "You're ruining everyone's mood."

You went the rest of taxi ride, sulking up a storm, until you arrived at your apartment building where you didn't look at him once, as you rode the elevator up, up, and up.

While you were contemplating genuine suicide, he, on the other hand, was one of the happiest- if not the happiest man on the planet.

He told you to correct your mood but the truth is he loved it. He loved seeing you so juvenile, as if you were teetering on the edge of a tantrum he so badly wanted to correct. He loved seeing you sulk like a child. It set his bones alight with a deep, uncomparable need.

He thought pain was the only thing that got his dick hard.

Perhaps he stands corrected.

"Take off your shoes," he hollers in that same tone of authority once you've entered your apartment building. You're like a ghost as you turn to kick your shoes off at the door before lugging your body deeper into the house. He watches you drop your handbag right there on the floor, before you're throwing yourself on the couch, face first like a sack of potatoes.

He attempts to hide his smile as he walks in along after you. He undoes the buttons of his blazer as he stands above you, eyeing you under a quirked brow as your shoulders begin to wrack with your tears.

He shrugs off the blazer before folding it on the nearest armchair.

You flinch when you feel his hand on your foot, lifting it up to make space for his large frame lowering onto the couch.

That infuriatingly warm voice is back as he quietly asks "Why are you crying?"

He extends his hands to the small of your back, rubbing dizzying circles while you cry and cry. He's comforting you after being the very reason you need comfort in the first place. Everything about this man is one big contradiction.

"I thought you'd be happy about this." Your voice is muffled by the cushion. You don't look up at him.

"What on earth would give you the impression that I want you to work?" He asks.

"W-Well," you attempt to rain in your sniffles and he attempts to not visibly grow a boner as your bloodshot eyes finally come into view. You're a beautiful mess for him. Your lashes are wet and your nose is runny and he wants to do so many vile things to you, its eating away at his soul.

He wants to play this game for as long as he can though, this sulking game that he didn't know hed enjoy so much. He settles for setting his hand at the back of your head as you talk.

"If I have a job that means there's less stuff you have to buy for me and-" You answer, sniffling cutely as you sit beside him. You're staring down at your hands fidgeting in your lap while his eyes can't leave the pathetic tears running down your face.

He doesn't think when he says it. He's not thinking about anything other than your body. How little you become for him. How sombre and sullen and sulky you are.

"And what if I prefer it?" He asks softly, "Taking care of you?"

You shake your head, trying to remove his hand ghosting behind you but he only weaves his fingers into your braids, keeping a wonderful grip on your scalp.

"You had no right to do that- you had no right to make me quit."

He leans over, sufficiently done with all these terrible games you've played and forced him to play. He was so dangerously close to combustion, his hands were trembling as he reached over to undo the buttons of your work polo shirt. You let him.

Of course you let him.

"Who was that then? You kissed him before?" His eyes find you before moving back down to the t-shirt. His fingers hook under the ends of the shirt as he lifts it up.

"Who was who? My co-worker?" You sound tired and dejected and you immediately hug yourself when nothing but cool air drifts over your naked torso. He moves a large hand over your breasts, marveling at the sheer size of it, comparing it in his hands. Your body truly was magnificent, he realizes. And all he has done this whole time is try to kill it.

"That... child," he breathes before dropping his hands down to your work pants. He undoes the buttons and you watch him with an intense look in your eye.

"You have a knack for calling every boy my age a child," you say shortly.

"That's because you're young," he admits before tapping your thigh slightly. You lift your hip and let him maneuver you out of the khaki pants, never to be worn again. The smell of coffee still hangs heavily over your skin but it's significantly less intense. Right now all he smells is you.

"And yet," you showcase to him the latest bruise along your collarbone. It's big and angry and hid very easily under the polo shirt. However, here under the overhead lights of your apartment, he could see them, "Look at everything you've ever done to me-"

He groans then. He actually groans.

His eyes flutter shut as his legs spread a little wider and he sinks a little lower into the couch. "Fuck," he whispers, head swinging towards you as he flutters his eyes back open.

"Come sit on my lap?"

His request only catches you remarkably off-guard. “Excuse me?”

"I said come sit on my lap," he replies so defiantly it nearly has your brain short circuiting. You narrow your eyes, not trusting it.

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'? Because I'm hard and I'd like you to sit on my lap."

"Is this another game?" You ask, still remarkably on the fence about the man who had been the pinnacle of sadism, suddenly force-feeding you his affections.

"If you don't sit on my lap I will bring out the cane again, don't tempt me-" before your able to make a decision, he makes one for you- attacking you with his large hands before you're able to protest any further. He wrestles you onto him, forcing you to take what he gave.

You're made to straddle his left thigh as he pulls you in close until your tits are pressed up against his shirt. He buries his head in-between the crook of your neck and you croak out a moan as he inhales you sharply. He hugs you towards him, bouncing you slightly on his knees. The feeling shoots straight to your cunt and you immediately begin to groan on top of him.

With his head over your shoulder, you can feel his fingers grace over the marks he'd left before. The marks from the cane. It scarred your back. Moulding the flesh in his image. Branding you as his

"You're young but you can handle it." He whispers, swiping his thumb over your scars before drifting his hands down to your hip. He slowly begins to drag your hips forward and you gasp, immediately searching for something to grab onto. You settle for his shirt. Your fingers curl around the fabric and he lets you ruin it as he pushes you back slowly on his thigh. He continues these torturous movements until your cunt gets the message and starts acting accordingly.

He watches with a slow nod as you begin to ride his thigh like he's conditioned you to.

"Jeez-" It was the sheer intimacy of the actual act that had your arousal dripping out of you and onto his thigh. You'd never had sex with him- purely for sex. It had always been an act of torture or punishment that had always led to sex. But never something so sexual being done so blatantly .

"Fuck yourself on my thigh-" he whispers hoarsely, almost pained as he urges you along. "You can do it, can't you? You can be a good slut for me?"

An equally pained whimper seeps out of your closed lips as you begin to ride his thigh like your life depends on it- spurred on by darkness in his glare and the bulge tenting his pants.

When you notice him undoing the buttons of those pants you realize you are utterly done for.

"Good little slut," he mumbles as he mindlessly reaches inside his boxers to uncover his cock already dripping precum.

"Open your mouth-" he's already shoving his fingers inside, flattening your tongue in order to collect as much saliva as possible before spreading it all over his cock. You watch in complete wonder as he begins to fuck his fist to the same rhythm you ride his thigh- it's so mesmerizing.

"D-Does this count as a session or-"

"Shh-" he says, squeezing his eyes shut as his hand squeezes the base of his cock.

He fluffers his eyes open again, only to state deeply into your lust-filled gaze.

"I don't think I've ever cum inside you with the actual objective of getting you pregnant." His words completely knock you off-kilter and he needs to bring his hand up to your side to stop you from slipping off his thigh.

He continues to stroke his cock, picking up speed.

"I've only ever just... did it.”

“Pl-Please stop talking-” you mumble, “I’ll cum,”

He doesn't listen.

“I cum inside you 'cus it's what I feel like doing in the moment," you try to stitch every piece of this moment to memory. The wrinkles lining his manic eyes, smile wiped clean from his face, leaving only a serious, aroused look of an incredibly grown, strong man.

"F-Fuck," your hips stutter on top of him as you softly whimper. "D-Dad-"

It cracks out of you.

And almost immediately you wish you could take it back but you're already cumming. And your words have his eyes widened as he lifts his hips from the couch fucking his fist deeper.

"F-Fuck I'm cumming-" he admits oh so gravely as his eyes squeeze shut.

"Me too-" you whimper as your own orgasm splits through you, soaking his thigh and ruining the fabric further.

Beyond a few shallow words, guaranteeing you that you won't be annihilated, he almost never initiates affection. In fact, you weren't even really sure if he was capable of it yet here he was, confessing the only way he knew how.

You're cumming on top of him as spurts of his cum land on his chest, making a mess on his shirt. You're both breathing heavily in the afterglow. The fog has yet to clear.

You sit up slowly, body wracking with aftershocks.

"This was nice but um- I need you to be rougher-" the words barely leave your mouth before he's clamping your throat shut with his fist. He's breathing heavily with his eyes still squeezed shut.

"You don't need anything-" he reminds you quietly, "You don't make demands, you take what I give you."

He squeezes and squeezes your throat like he did his cock.

"You're like a baby being forced fed.” He says, “My baby. My thing to take care of.”

[kirammanswifey]

Will you, pretty please, make a pt 2 of arcane characters breaking up with their so? You know, some fluff to cure our wounds…

arcane characters reconcile with you after the breakup x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: let's be honest, both you and i needed this, i love a bit of drama but a bit of fluff is also necessary sometimes, and it was so nice to write this, i loved all the reconciliations, especially caitlyn's. thank you so much for all the support you give me, it makes me want to keep creating more and more content. as you know the requests are open ;)

break up link:

alternative sad final link:

@sugurulefttesticle thanks for the support babe :3

Viktor

The laboratory was shrouded in an unsettling gloom, the shadows cast by the machines seemed longer, darker. Loneliness had settled in every corner, but at the center of it all, Viktor was there, hunched over his plans, as if the weight of his thoughts was crushing him.

Since you had left, time had lost its meaning. The hours blurred into sleepless nights and frantic days of work. But nothing, no formula, no discovery, could fill the void you had left.

The door opened with a soft creak, but Viktor didn’t turn around. Perhaps he had imagined that sound before, hoping it was you, and he feared that this time it would be another illusion. However, your gentle steps echoed on the metal floor, and then his heart skipped a beat.

"Viktor..." your voice was barely a whisper, laden with emotion. "Please, look at me."

He closed his eyes, as if he needed to gather all his strength to do so. Slowly, he turned towards you, and seeing you there, a mix of surprise and something akin to relief crossed his face. But his eyes were filled with something deeper, a sadness he couldn’t hide.

“I didn’t think you would come back…” he said with a broken voice, barely audible. “After everything I did… I didn’t think I deserved your return.”

You stepped closer, each step carrying the intent to close the distance he had put between you. "Viktor, it was never about deserving. It’s about understanding that we need to face this together."

“I pushed you away because… I’m afraid,” he confessed, his voice trembling with the emotional weight. “Afraid that you’ll see me fail, that everything I am won’t be enough. Afraid that one day you’ll realize you can be happier without me.”

The weight of his words hit you like a wave, but you didn’t waver. “Viktor, we all have fears. But running from what scares us doesn’t make it go away. I’m here because I don’t want a future without you, even if it means facing our fears together.”

Viktor lowered his gaze, a silent tear falling down his cheek. “You are... the only thing that has kept me human. Without you, I become a machine, soulless, heartless. I don’t want to lose myself… I don’t want to lose you.”

Hearing those words, your own tears began to flow. You stepped closer to him, your hand reaching his face, gently caressing the cheek where the tear had fallen. “You won’t lose yourself, Viktor. Not as long as we’re together.”

He finally lifted his gaze, his eyes searching yours with a mix of desperation and hope. “How can you keep loving me after everything I’ve put you through?”

“Because I love you,” you said without hesitation. “Not for what you do, but for who you are, even when you can’t see it yourself.”

Viktor let out a sob he had been holding back, and without thinking twice, he moved towards you, wrapping you in his arms. It was a fragile embrace but full of promises. In that moment, you knew that, although the road would be difficult, together you could find a way to rebuild what had been broken.

Jinx

The night was heavy with rain and despair. Jinx stood at the edge of a building, her feet barely touching the edge as she gazed into the abyss below. The icy wind whipped her body, but she didn’t feel the cold. She was trapped in a whirlwind of dark thoughts, each more desperate than the last.

“End it,” the voices in her head whispered, cruel and persistent. “It’s best for everyone. Get rid of all the pain. You don’t deserve more.”

Her gaze was empty, lost in a place no one else could reach. She closed her eyes, letting the tears mix with the rain, allowing the weight of her emotions to push her further toward the edge.

But then, through the sound of the rain, she heard something. A voice. A familiar voice, filled with anguish. “Jinx, no, please... don’t do it.”

She opened her eyes slowly and saw you, soaked by the rain, your face marked by desperation and tears. You had run to her, not stopping, not thinking of the danger. Now you were there, fighting to reach her, fighting to bring her back.

“Why did you come?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I told you to stay away... not to come back.”

“Because I can’t leave you alone,” you responded, taking a step closer, each movement filled with fear and love. “I love you, Jinx. I can’t lose you like this.”

She shook her head, the tears falling uncontrollably. “You shouldn’t love me. Not after everything I’ve done. I’m a mess. I’ll ruin you, like I ruin everything.”

“Let me decide that,” you said, your voice broken but firm. “You’re not a mess. You’re my baby, and I love you, even when everything seems to fall apart. I won’t leave you alone.”

Jinx stepped back slightly, as if your words hurt her more than anything else. “I always hurt people... I can’t stop. I don’t want to hurt you, but I always end up doing it.”

“I can take it,” you replied, stepping closer, extending your hands toward her, knowing you couldn’t rush her. “Because I’d rather be with you in your worst moments than lose you forever. You don’t have to face this alone. Let me help you.”

She trembled, the weight of her emotions too much to bear. “I’m scared... scared that I can’t stop, scared that this darkness will consume me. I don’t want you to sink with me.”

“We’ll sink together if we have to,” you promised, your hands still extended, waiting for her to reach you. “I don’t care how much it costs. I’m here to stay, Jinx. I won’t abandon you.”

For a long and painful moment, Jinx remained silent, her gaze filled with a sadness so deep it seemed impossible to heal. But finally, her hands moved, barely brushing yours at first, then clinging to them as if they were the only thing keeping her anchored to this world.

“Promise me you won’t leave me,” she whispered, her voice broken by anguish.

“I promise,” you said, squeezing her hands with all the love and desperation you felt. “No matter what happens, no matter how dark it gets, I’ll always be with you.”

With those words, Jinx stepped back from the edge and collapsed into your arms, her body shaken by heart-wrenching sobs. The storm still raged around them, but at that moment, they were bound by something stronger than fear: the promise not to abandon each other.

Vi

The weeks without Vi have been torment. Each day feels like a part of you fades a little more, as if her absence is slowly tearing your soul apart. Today, you’re in the gardens of your home, holding a photo in your hands: the first one you took with Vi, both smiling, happy, unaware of the pain that would come after. Tears blur your vision as your heart breaks over and over with the memories.

Then, you hear footsteps, and there she is, standing, her eyes filled with a mix of regret and desperation. You quickly try to dry your tears, to hide the photo, as if that could erase the pain consuming you.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice trembling, not sure if you can bear what’s to come.

Vi takes a step forward, her expression more vulnerable than ever. “I miss you,” she says, her voice broken. “I’m sorry for everything I said, everything I did. I can’t live without you.”

You close your eyes, feeling every word of hers like a direct blow to your heart. “None of that matters now, Vi,” you respond, trying to maintain your firmness. “My family has decided to marry me to a member of the Piltover council.”

Vi looks at you, her face pale. “Marry?” she whispers, as if the word were a curse. “You can’t do it. I know you don’t love anyone else. You can’t love anyone but me.”

Tears threaten to return, but you hold them back. “It’s not my choice, Vi. They decide for me. You’re the one who left me, who pushed me into this destiny.”

“I was an idiot,” Vi admits, taking another step toward you. “I know. But I can’t let this happen. I’ll fight for you, even if I have to face the whole world. I won’t lose you, not like this.”

“And what will that change?” you shout, unable to contain the pain any longer. “You can’t fight everyone! You can’t change who I am, what they expect of me.”

Vi stops, her gaze fixed on yours, with an intensity that leaves you breathless. “The only time you’ll stand at an altar will be with me by your side,” she says with unbreakable firmness. “I won’t let you marry anyone else. Not as an act of pride, but because I love you, and I don’t want to live without you.”

“Vi, please,” you whisper, the tears now falling freely. “This is bigger than us. You can’t fix it with pretty words.”

“Then I’ll fix it with actions,” she responds, with a resolve you hadn’t seen before. “I’ll go wherever necessary, face your parents, that damn council, anyone who tries to come between us. I won’t let them take you from me.”

Her voice trembles, but her determination does not. “I don’t want you to be my savior,” you whisper, your voice almost inaudible. “I want you to be my partner, my equal. But I can’t do this alone, Vi. I can’t keep fighting if you’re not by my side.”

Vi comes closer, until the distance between you both disappears. “You’ll never be alone again,” she promises, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I love you, and I swear I’ll fight for us, until my last breath. I won’t let them separate us, not them, not anyone.”

The weight of her words envelops you, and finally, you let yourself fall into her arms, allowing all the pain, fear, and contained love to overflow. Vi holds you tightly, whispering promises of a future together, promises that, this time, you’re willing to believe.

Caitlyn

The trial is a public spectacle, a circus meant to satisfy Piltover’s thirst for justice. You stand in the center of the room, hands tied behind your back, as the council leaders gaze at you coldly. The accusations fly over your head like sharp daggers: treason, conspiracy, disloyalty. All because you tried to talk to Ekko, to seek a peace you believed possible between the two cities.

Caitlyn stands at the back of the room, her face impassive, her gaze fixed on you. She hasn’t said a word since the trial began, and the emptiness in her expression breaks you more than any word of condemnation. You know she’s fighting internally, but her silence feels like a sentence in itself.

Finally, the judge announces the decision: "For the charges of treason, this court decrees that you will be stripped of your position as Enforcer and permanently exiled from Piltover."

The verdict falls like a hammer on your heart. You feel your world crumble in an instant. You look at Caitlyn, searching in her eyes for some sign of support, of compassion, but she remains motionless.

As the judge is about to strike the gavel to conclude the session, Caitlyn steps forward, her voice resonating with dangerous calm. "One moment."

The entire room turns toward her. Caitlyn advances with the elegance and authority she has always possessed, but there’s something new in her eyes, a spark of defiance.

"I cannot allow this sentence to be carried out," she says firmly. "This isn’t justice; it’s an act of fear and repression. The person you’re accusing only sought peace, a diplomatic solution to prevent more bloodshed."

The judge frowns, but Caitlyn continues before he can interrupt. "I am the leader of the Enforcers, and my loyalty is to true justice, not a system that punishes hope. If you expel my partner from this city, if you strip someone whose only crime was trying to save us all, then you’ll be provoking a rift you cannot control."

Caitlyn takes another step forward, and her voice lowers, but each word is a sharp edge. "I could easily take control, dismantle this corrupt system from within, and there would be nothing you could do to stop me. But that’s not the justice I seek. What I want is fairness, compassion, and truth."

The silence in the room is deafening. The council members exchange glances, understanding they are not dealing with someone who can be manipulated or intimidated.

After what feels like an eternity, the judge finally relents. "We will review the sentence. The accused will be sanctioned and will not be allowed to leave Piltover, but she will not be exiled or stripped of her position."

Caitlyn nods slightly, then approaches you, freeing you from your bonds with her own hands. "Let’s go," she murmurs, her voice soft yet filled with authority.

You leave the courtroom with her, and once you’re away from the others’ eyes, Caitlyn stops. For the first time, you see her tremble. "I’m sorry," she whispers, her eyes finally filling with tears. "I shouldn’t have doubted you. I shouldn’t have left you alone."

The vulnerability in her voice disarms you. Despite everything, despite the pain, you know Caitlyn did what she could to save you. "Cait," you say softly, taking her face in your hands. "What you just did... was the greatest act of love you could give me. You chose between authority and me, and you chose me."

She closes her eyes, tears falling freely. "It will always be you," she says, her voice trembling. "No matter the odds or the problems that come, I will always choose you. You are my justice, my reason, my everything."

The words sink into your heart, bringing overwhelming relief. You kiss her softly, sealing with that gesture the love that binds you. "You are my everything too, Cait," you whisper. "You always have been."

She holds you tightly, as if she’ll never let you go. "Together," she says in a whisper, her voice laden with emotion. "No matter what happens, we’ll face everything together. Because you are my choice, now and always."

Jayce

The air was thick with tension as the words that had been kept bottled up for so long finally exploded. Everything about him was focused on his ambition, on his vision for Piltover, and everything in you was hurt, torn apart by his indifference.

The last time you saw each other, it was a goodbye filled with cruel and cold words, an ending with no way back. You had decided that you could no longer be the shadow of his dreams, an accessory to the side of his grand plans. You didn’t want any more empty promises. You didn’t want to be the sacrifice.

But now, all that seemed about to change.

One day, you find yourself in your laboratory, lost in your thoughts, trying to push away the lingering pain. The door opens with a familiar creak, and your heart skips a beat without warning. It's not someone you expected to see. It’s him. Jayce.

Silence rises between the two of you. The air is heavy, as if time itself had stopped. He’s there, looking at you, but his gaze no longer holds the confidence it once had. In his eyes, there’s something else now: uncertainty, a faint glimmer of regret.

"I thought I understood," he says, his voice deep but hesitant. "I thought that what I was doing, the ambition, the future of Piltover... I thought it all had to be that way. That I had to leave everything behind, even you, if I wanted to get to where I am now."

You remain silent, the pain still fresh in your veins, but something inside you urges you to listen. You know that everything you’ve been through together can’t be left behind without an answer. You can’t help it, but something inside you breaks again at the sound of his voice, the same one that used to calm your fears, now trembling.

"But I haven’t forgotten you," he continues. "I haven’t stopped thinking about you, about us, about what we were. About what we could have been... if only I weren’t so blind."

You look at him, his presence so intense that it almost makes you doubt everything you thought you knew. "Then why are you here?" you ask, your heart pounding in your chest. "After everything you said... after everything that happened, why?"

Jayce takes a step towards you, hesitant but determined. "Because in the end, I realized that nothing is worth it if you’re not by my side. No matter how great Piltover becomes, no matter how grand my legacy is, if I don’t share that greatness with the person who truly matters."

His voice breaks at the end, as if he’s finally acknowledging something he had avoided all along.

A lump forms in your throat, and your hands tremble slightly. "Jayce..." you murmur, not knowing whether you want to believe him or if you’re afraid it’s too late for all this.

"I’m sorry," he says, his tone filled with remorse. "I’m sorry for not listening to you. For not realizing what we had until I almost lost it. I don’t know how to fix it, but I want to try. If you’ll let me... I want to try to make it right. I want you to be part of my life, not just a secondary option, not just something I pushed aside."

He gently takes your hands, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll break in his fingers. "I want to be better for you. And if that means changing, if it means prioritizing you, I’ll do it. Because I need you. Not just as part of my life, but as the center of it."

Jayce’s words envelop you like a warm embrace, but you’re still afraid. Afraid that this promise might be just another lie. However, a part of you wants to believe that all of this can be real.

"Do you really understand?" you ask, looking into his eyes with an intensity that reflects your doubts and hopes. "Because I don’t want to be a shadow anymore. I don’t want to be the sacrifice on your path to something that doesn’t include what we shared."

He nods, the determination in his gaze revealing that he’s not here just to talk but to prove it. "I promise you, I understand now. What we have is the only thing that truly matters."

Your breathing calms, though the uncertainty still lingers. "So what are you going to do? Are you going to stop fighting just for Piltover and start fighting for us?"

Jayce smiles, a vulnerable but sincere smile. "I’m going to fight for what really matters, for what I didn’t want to lose. For you."

A weight lifts from your shoulders, and for a moment, you feel that the pain of everything lost can be healed. Because, in the end, it’s not about power or control. It’s about what the heart chooses, about what people decide to cherish.

You step closer to him, gently touching his face, and at last, after so long, you allow yourself to be vulnerable. "I don’t want to lose you again," you whisper.

"And you won’t," he responds, drawing you even closer, as if there had never been space between you. "Never again."

Ekko

The cold wind of Zaun blew strongly as you entered the house, the echo of your footsteps resonating like a forewarning. You didn’t know what you were going to find, but something told you that Ekko was no longer the same. The house, once filled with laughter and camaraderie, now seemed empty, desolate.

Ekko was there, sitting in front of a table, his hands trembling slightly. When he saw you, his eyes widened, but there was no surprise, just a flicker of something else. Regret.

"Ekko..." you whispered, your voice breaking. In the distance, the image of the battle came to mind. That night when you almost lost him forever. It had been a brutal blow. The fear of never seeing him again consumed you.

"I saw everything, you know?" Ekko began to speak, his voice softer than usual, as if he were searching for the right words. "When I fell… when everything seemed to be ending… the only thing I saw… was you." A long sigh escaped his chest, as if those words had cost him as much as a contained scream. "I saw your face, your pain… and I realized, too late, that the only battle that truly mattered, the one I didn’t want to lose… was ours."

Silence filled the room, your eyes welling up with tears as you processed what he had just said. "Ekko, why...? Why couldn’t we make it work before?"

He looked at you deeply, as if each word was a struggle, as if he were slowly building up what he felt. "I told you that you weren’t enough... but it was me who wasn’t enough. I, who thought I could save everything, who thought I could be everything for everyone, but when I looked at my life… I saw nothing. I saw what I had lost the most. And it was me who pushed away the only thing that truly mattered."

He stood up with effort, his eyes filled with regret and pain, the way he looked at you was so intense it hurt. "I… I fought for Zaun, but the only real fight I should be fighting, the only one that matters, is for you." His words flowed out of his mouth, but it seemed he was seeking his own forgiveness. "I failed you. I failed you because I didn’t understand what it meant to have you by my side. You were always enough, and you always will be."

He approached slowly, his face now close to yours, and though his gaze was tired, there was something new in it: vulnerability. "Would you let me fight for you, even now, even though everything is broken?"

Your voice trembled as you looked into Ekko's eyes. "Why are you asking me now? Why when everything is already broken?"

"Because I saw you leave, I saw how my life dimmed without you. And I realized that despite everything, the only thing that keeps me standing is knowing that I can still fight for what I love the most. And that's you. You are my reason to keep going. My only reason." His eyes glistened, and for a moment, it seemed that time had stopped between the two of you.

The air was heavy with palpable pain, and your tears fell uncontrollably. No matter how much damage had been done, the love between you had never left, it had just been buried under layers of pride and distance.

"Ekko..." you whispered, your voice broken. "What if I'm no longer what you need?"

"You’ll always be. You always were. And you always will be, baby" he said, his voice cracking as he took your hands with a desperate strength. "I’m so sorry."

Finally, words were no longer enough, and in an impulse, you both leaned in, letting yourselves be carried by the need to heal what was broken. Ekko's tears mixed with yours, the pain transformed into something that needed to be healed, and within the shadows of the house, you both finally understood that although the path to reconciliation would be difficult, there was still a chance to fight for the love that hadn’t completely disappeared.

Silco

The warehouse's dim light wrapped around you like an ominous forewarning, the thick, heavy air clinging to your skin. You had fallen into the trap, and although you knew it, you couldn't stop fighting, trying to free yourself. You had been at the brink of death more times than you cared to count, but this time it was different. The face of the man who held you prisoner was not one you knew well, but you did know that he was under the orders of someone much more dangerous. Silco had never fully explained the world he moved in, but something about the surroundings told you there would be no escape. This wasn't just any kidnapping. This time you wouldn't be saved so easily.

The ropes binding your wrists tightened as your mind spun in search of a way out. Your breathing was uneven, and every attempt to calm yourself only multiplied the fear. The man in front of you, with harsh features and cold eyes, watched your every move with a cruel smile. The sense of threat was palpable, yet you tried to defy him, even though you knew it was a vain attempt.

"Silco?" You called, but your voice trembled, betrayed by panic.

"Do you think he'll come to save you?"

The man let out a mocking laugh, stepping closer, the blade of a knife catching the warehouse's dim light.

"Silco has too many problems to deal with you," he said with a calm that only made the situation more terrifying. "You should already know, in this world, there's no room for weakness. Especially not for a little whore like you; you whores are replaceable. And apparently, he's already replaced you, everyone knows it. But my boss thought it would be a courteous gesture to send him your head as a small gift."

Your thoughts blurred with the sound of the door bursting open, and a chill ran down your spine at the familiar echo of firm, controlled footsteps. It was him. There was no doubt.

The man didn't seem worried, his arrogance had blinded him. "What's the great Silco doing here? Jealous that I have your former little bitch now? Relax, I'll give her back to you once I'm done with her. You can keep a leg or both, but her organs are mine, I'm sure they'll fetch a good price in the market."

There was no response. Silco didn't say a word, but the tension in the air was so thick that the entire room seemed to hold its breath. His eyes, cold as ice, scanned the man before you and then fixed on you, without showing a hint of emotion. Without hesitation, his hand slid to the back of his belt. In the blink of an eye, the sound of the gunshot echoed through the room, and the man fell to the ground, his life fading so quickly he didn't even have time to comprehend it.

It all happened in a matter of seconds, but for you, the world seemed to stop the moment Silco's figure approached. The intensity in his gaze, that palpable energy that used to envelop you in his presence, was now just a reminder of everything you had lost. He freed you from the ropes without a word. The contact of his hand as he touched you sent a shiver down your spine, and though his gesture was practical, you couldn't help but wonder if, in some corner of his being, there was still something of the person he had been before. Something that had loved you.

"You'll be fine," he murmured, his tone cold and distant as always. But this time, it wasn't the tone of the protector, the leader who had cared for you. It was the voice of someone who had forgotten what it meant to feel.

You tried to pull away from his touch, the same touch you had once desired with all your being. You couldn't bear it any longer. You couldn't bear him, his indifference.

"Why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep saving me? If you hate me so much, why save me?" Your voice was a broken whisper, but the pain in it was clear.

Silco remained silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that burned. You could see the internal struggle in his gaze, that shadow of doubt that had arisen between him and you. Finally, he took a step towards you, his face implacable, but his hands trembling as he approached.

"You didn't understand anything," he murmured, his tone low, more vulnerable than you had ever heard. "What I told you... it was all a lie. I didn't want to lose you, that's why I pushed you away. I didn't want you close to this world, to this hell... but I couldn't. I couldn't let you go. I thought if I pushed you away, you wouldn't suffer, but..." His voice broke briefly, and silence filled the space between you both.

You looked at his face, puzzled by the contradiction in him. Everything he had said before, everything he had done, seemed to crumble now before your eyes.

"You don't understand, do you?" You whispered, still fighting the lump in your throat. "What did you think? That I didn't know what I was getting into when I decided to stay with you? That I didn't know death would always be at my back? That I would always have to live on the edge because you insisted on being the damn king of a world like this?"

Silco didn't respond immediately, his face softened slightly, and a shadow of regret crossed his gaze.

"I know," he said in a hoarse voice, "I know everything I said was cruel. But what I didn't tell you... is that, even if the whole world collapses, the only thing that matters to me... the only thing I've truly loved... is you."

The impact of his words hit you, and for a second, time stopped. The pain, the rage, the uncertainty, all of it seemed to dissolve into the air. But above all, there was something else, something you never expected to hear from him.

"I chose you," you whispered as you slowly approached him. "Despite everything, I chose you. I chose you, and even knowing what it would mean, I would do it again. Because that's what love really is. Choosing the person despite everything, even knowing death is just around the corner."

A flicker of emotion crossed his eyes, something you rarely saw in him, and for a moment, all the hatred, all the anger that had existed between you disappeared, leaving you alone, vulnerable, but finally honest.

"Then, come back, please," he pleaded, his voice trembling, his hand seeking yours. "I can't bear a world without you. I can't lose you. I'll keep protecting you, no matter how many times I have to dirty my hands with blood."

You approached, touching his forehead with the softness of a caress that, in that moment, was the only thing that could heal the wounds you both carried.

"I'm here, my love," you whispered to him, as he closed his eyes, letting the pain and hope dissolve between his arms. "I'll never leave you again. No matter what happens. It will always be you and me against the world. Always and forever."

And so, in that moment, the broken words and wounds of the past were left behind. In their place, there was only the certainty that, in the end, the love they shared couldn't be destroyed, even if the whole world was in ruins.

Mel

It's close to three in the morning when you hear a knock on the door. You're half asleep, your head heavy, but something in the air alerts you. With every step you take towards the entrance, you feel your heart racing, as if you know something is about to change, something you can't stop. You open the door, and there she is.

Mel is not the same as before. She isn't wearing the luxuries that always accompany her, the perfectly applied makeup, or the golden jewelry that always shone on her skin. She's a mess, her gaze lost, her face haggard. The strong woman who always seemed in control is now broken, empty. And when she looks at you, her eyes are not the same. They are filled with pain, with a suffering she hasn't been able to hide.

Before you can say a word, Mel throws herself at you. She takes you by surprise, but you quickly wrap your arms around her. Her body is trembling, as if her entire being is collapsing. You feel her tears soaking your shirt, and in the silence of the early morning, she begins to speak through sobs.

"I faced her..." her voice is broken, and every word costs her more than it seems. "My mother... she told me... she told me I would never be enough. That I'm not. You were right." She pauses for a moment, unable to continue, as if the weight of those words is too heavy for her soul to carry.

You hold her tighter, even though the words coming out of her mouth are like daggers in your chest. "Mel, please... don't say that," you murmur, though the anguish in your own voice is as present as hers. "You're not what she says. You're not."

"I'm her puppet," she responds bitterly. "She manipulated me... manipulated me to make all this happen. To put Piltover in her hands. I started a war, and now... I can't stop it. I'm to blame for all of this." Her crying intensifies, and you can feel her pain as if she's tearing herself apart inside. "She called me weak... called me a disgrace to the Medarda clan..."

Those words leave you cold. You feel the air catch in your throat. But you can't let her fall. You can't let her sink further into that darkness. You pull her away slightly, holding her face in your hands, forcing her to look into your eyes.

"No, Mel," you say firmly, even though your heart is shattered. "You're not weak. You're not a disgrace. You are... you're Mel Medarda, an incredible woman, not Ambessa's daughter. And that's what you'll always be to me."

She shakes her head, as if your words are merely an illusion. "You don't see it... you don't understand," she says, her voice broken by the sobs. "I am everything she wants me to be. Everything she told me to be. And now I don't know who I am... I don't know if I'm what you need."

You move closer to her, almost brushing her lips, and you can feel her desperation. "What you need isn't to be what your mother wants, Mel. What you need... what you need is to be yourself. You are enough. You are more than enough. I want you, with everything you are. It doesn't matter what she thinks. I love you just the way you are."

Mel closes her eyes tightly, as if she wants to block out the pain of your words, but even she knows that something in you is true. You feel that, though she doesn't want to admit it, your love for her is a refuge, a sanctuary from the torment she's lived her entire life.

"I promise I won't leave you alone in this," you continue, holding her face in your hands. "We'll figure it out together, Mel. We will. You're not going to lose me. I'm not going to lose you."

Mel finally looks up and meets your gaze, her eyes filled with tears, but there's something different in her expression. It's not the emptiness she gave you before, it's a spark, something of hope that begins to ignite deep within her.

"I don't want to keep fighting alone," she says softly, almost as if it's a lost whisper. "I'm so afraid... so afraid of all this. Of what I've caused. But... I don't want to lose what we have. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," you reply with a sigh, holding her tightly, as if you could embrace all her fears. "I won't leave you alone. I promise. We'll figure it out. Together."

Time seems to stop at that moment. The world outside keeps turning, but you and Mel, in this instant, have only each other. And although the future is uncertain, you know that as long as you have each other, nothing can tear you apart.

Sevika

The sound of heavy footsteps is the first thing you hear. It’s late, the city is shrouded in darkness, but something in the air tells you this time it’s not a dream, not a nightmare. The knocking on the door startles you, and when you open it, you see her.

Sevika is standing in front of you, slightly swaying, her breathing uneven. The scent of alcohol is strong, mixed with the sensation of sweat and exhaustion emanating from her body. Her eyes, usually so firm, are now dull, almost lost, as if she’s searching for something she doesn’t know how to find.

“Sevika… what are you doing here?” you ask, your heart pounding in your chest, confused and worried to see her like this.

She doesn’t respond immediately, just stands there, watching you, as if she wants to say something, but the words seem stuck in her throat. After a long silence, she finally speaks, her voice deep and broken.

“I went to the brothels…” she murmurs, her head hanging low, as if it’s a confession, something weighing heavier than anything else. “To forget you. To stop thinking about you. I was with other people… so many other people. But everything I did reminded me of you. Of you and how… how I lost you.”

Your stomach churns at her words. The betrayal cuts you like a sharp knife. You step back from her, feeling the pain grow in your chest.

“No… why? Why did you do that?” The anger and hurt are clear in your voice, but there’s also a vulnerability you can’t hide. “Is that why you left me? To be with other people?”

Sevika lifts her head, her eyes reflecting a remorse so deep you can almost feel it as your own. “I didn’t do it to hurt you,” she says, her words faltering. “I did it because I thought it was what I should do… because I hurt you, and I didn’t know how to fix it. I didn’t want you to need me, I didn’t want to drag you with me into this damn abyss.”

Your heart beats so fast you feel it might burst out of your chest. Every word from Sevika hurts more, but there’s something in her gaze, in the way she’s opening up to you now, that makes you hesitate.

“But…” she continues, taking another step closer. “None of it worked. None of it. I remember you in every one of those faces. I remember you when I’m alone when I try to forget you. And the worst part, the most painful part, is that I can’t… I can’t stop wanting you.”

The words hang in the heavy air between you. The silence becomes unbearable. Sevika takes another step, closer to you until you can feel her ragged breath. She’s so close you can see every line on her face, the fragility you never thought she had.

“I… I never wanted you to see me this way,” she says, her voice breaking, as if every word costs her a world. “But please… listen to me carefully. There’s nothing I want more in this damn world than to be with you. I don’t want to keep living without you. I can’t. I love you. I can’t keep running from it. I can’t live with the weight of not telling you this sooner.”

The air freezes between you, and for a moment, the world seems to stop. The hate, the confusion, the betrayal… it all mixes in your chest, but deep down, you know what she just said is real.

“What?” you manage to whisper, your eyes filling with unshed tears. “Are you serious?”

Sevika closes her eyes, as if fighting against herself. “I love you,” she repeats, her voice softer now, as if she’s giving you everything she had, everything she had kept in her heart. “I love you, and I don’t want to keep living this lie. You… you’re the only thing that matters to me. You’re my only reason for being here. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want you to keep suffering because of me. Please…”

Those “please” are like a plea, a silent scream that pierces through all the walls you had built around your heart. Sevika, the strong and fierce woman who always showed you her darkest side, is now on her knees before you, vulnerable, open, filled with a desperation you hadn’t seen before.

And in that instant, you feel everything crumble. The pain, the resentment, the confusion… it all disappears. Only love remains, raw and real, so strong it almost chokes you. Without thinking, you throw yourself into her arms, your arms wrapping around her with a desperate intensity, as if you fear that if you let her go, she’ll disappear forever.

“I love you too,” you whisper against her neck, the tears falling uncontrollably. “I love you so much it hurts.”

Sevika holds you with the same strength, her body trembling against yours. “Then let’s make it not hurt,” she murmurs, her words filled with a mix of relief and pain. “Let’s not let it separate us again, please.”

“That won’t happen again,” you reply, your lips seeking hers, not caring about anything else. “I won’t let it happen. What we have is forever.”

When your lips meet, the kiss is fierce, filled with the passion of everything that has built up, of everything that was left unsaid. It’s a kiss filled with desperation, love, and unspoken promises. It’s the beginning of a new chapter, one where the darkness won’t separate you, where love will keep you together, always.

[jjkamochoso]

JJK Men When They Get Jealous

Angst, fluff

Request from Wattpad

JJK Men x gn!reader

Warnings: slight cussing

A/N: some scenarios you're already dating, others you aren't!

Yuji:

“2 for Human Earthworm please!”

Yuji’s voice rang out as he bought tickets for your movie date. Your eyes gazed at his friendly face, standing close enough to his side to smell his cologne but not too close to impede his ability to pull out his wallet. Were you excited to see this movie for the umpteenth time? Not really, but it was a special anniversary release and Yuji was so pumped to watch it on the big screen again and you weren't going to ruin his fun. Besides, you couldn't say no to his adorable pouty face.

"Yuji! They have the special popcorn buckets here!" you exclaimed, catching a glimpse of the snack bar's offerings from your spot at the ticket counter. His eyes widened in shock.

"No way! They aren't sold out yet?" he asked incredulously. You moved from your place next to him and began speed walking over to the snack bar; there was no way he could miss out on this rare opportunity. Thankfully you had gotten in line when you did because there were hoards of people now queuing behind you, all eager to get their hands on the limited merchandise. When it was finally your turn, you were greeted by the worker, a boy who looked to be your age.

"Hello! What can I get for you today?"

"One earthworm bucket, please," you requested. He nodded, digging behind the counter. After what seemed like much too long, the employee finally procured what you were after.

"You're in luck! This is the last one," he said, handing it to you and giving you a smile. "Do you think I could be lucky enough to go on a date with you sometime?"

Surprised at his boldness, you let out a chuckle. "I don't think my boyfriend would like that very much."

"Your... oh."

You felt an arm land on your shoulders and knew it was Yuji.

"Awesome! You got the bucket!" he exclaimed to you, a huge grin on his face. "You're the best partner ever!" He then turned to the worker who busied himself with getting your popcorn. "I think I'm the lucky one here."

You internally laughed at Yuji's jealousy shining through. It was rare for him to feel that way, but when he did, he immediately made it clear to everyone that you two were happily exclusive.

When you eventually got to your seats in the theater, Yuji's arm never leaving you, you leaned over and gave his cheek a kiss. "You're cute when you're jealous."

"Me? Jealous? I wasn't..." He stopped when he noticed you eyeing him. "You're right. I'm sorry, that was dumb of me."

"No it wasn't. But there's no need to worry, you're the only guy I would ever willingly sit through the same movie a million and one times for."

Now it was Yuji's turn to give your cheek a kiss. "Like I said before, I'm the lucky one to be able to call you mine."

Megumi:

Your headphones were blaring your favorite song, drowning out the noise of the world around you. You were waiting for your boyfriend, Megumi, to meet you so you could explore Tokyo together. Swaying your head to the beat of the music, you didn’t register anyone standing near you until you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“It’s about time you got here,” you joked, taking your headphones off and turning to greet a familiar face. You weren’t expecting to see a stranger behind you and you slightly jumped from the shock.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the boy apologized, smiling gently. “I just wanted to ask you for some directions.”

“Oh, of course. I’m happy to help,” you responded.

“Great! I’m trying to get to this shrine.” The boy pulled out his phone and handed it to you, the screen displaying where he was trying to go. “Are you familiar with it?”

“Actually, yes. So what you want to do is go down this street…”

You told him the directions and typed it in his phone for him just in case he didn’t catch everything you said.

“I hope that helped,” you said, giving him his phone back. He glanced down and you could tell he gave the directions a once over.

“Everything alright?” you asked, seeing as he was hesitant to leave your side.

“I was hoping you had written your phone number in the notes too,” he told you. “I think you’re really cute.”

“Oh! I’m flattered, really, but I actually have a boyfriend.”

The boy was about to respond but all of a sudden his entire vibe changed; he was calm just a few moments earlier which was now replaced with nervousness.

“Right, right! Yeah, that makes sense. Um, thanks for the directions. I’m just gonna…”

The boy practically ran off, leaving you extremely confused. It wasn’t until you felt a menacing aura surround you that you realized the reason for the boy’s abrupt departure.

“That dumbass can’t find a shrine that’s not even a mile away and he wastes his time flirting?” grumbled Megumi, obviously irritated at your previous interaction.

“Jealous Fushiguro has made an appearance,” you teased, earning a glare from your dark haired boyfriend.

“I’m not jealous of a guy like that,” he argued, his defensive body language telling a whole other story from his words. You just shook your head and gave Megumi a quick kiss on his cheek.

“You’re the only one I could ever want. I promise.”

Megumi’s cheeks blossomed pink as he turned his focus away from you, looking into the distance.

“I know,” he mumbled, taking your hand in his. Now he was determined to make this the best date you’d ever been on—so much so that you wouldn’t remember giving that guy directions in the first place.

Yuta:

You and your friend Yuta decided to go ice skating together, wanting to have some stereotypical winter fun at the local rink. You two were deep in conversation until someone else’s voice and a tug at your scarf pulled you back into paying attention to your surroundings.

“I like your scarf,” a boy around your age said, smiling widely at you. “It’s almost as cute as you are.”

“Thank you,” you replied, a bit flustered, “that’s very kind of you.”

He chuckled and skated away, leaving you and Yuta alone again.

“Sorry about that, Yuta, what were you saying?”

He dove right back into where he left off, but his vibe was slightly off; he seemed upset for some reason. You didn’t mention it, figuring he might just be cold or something.

The boy who flirted with you kept skating by the entire session, shooting you winks or smiling at you. You didn’t notice Yuta glaring daggers at him from beside you.

Your time on the ice was about to expire so you and Yuta made one last circle, laughing at a joke you had made. You didn’t notice a dip in the ice and you stumbled backward. You hit the ground with a thud, slightly dazed from your fall.

“Are you alright?” Yuta asked, concern evident in his voice as he turned around to help you up. Unfortunately for him, the other boy was skating right behind you and was about to offer you his hand.

“Do you need-”

“Y/n! Let me help you up,” Yuta said, out of breath from skating as fast as he possibly could over to your position, grabbing onto your arm and hoisting you off the ice before the boy could even finish his sentence. He kept a protective grip on your body, scowling at the boy, until you were out of your skates and back into your normal shoes. Afterwards, you and Yuta walked to a local cafe for a much needed warm drink.

“Did you know that guy from somewhere? You didn’t seem to like him,” you observed.

“I don’t. He just… seemed like a jerk, that’s all,” he responded quickly, his voice higher than usual.

“Were you jealous?” you asked suddenly. Yuta’s face was now bright red and you didn’t think it was because of the cold.

“Me? I, uh… maybe?” he answered, unsure of the right thing to say. You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to elaborate.

“Well, you see, I…” Yuta sighed, defeated. “I really like you and I hated watching him flirt with you so brazenly. I know it was wrong of me to be so rude but I couldn’t stand the thought of you with him. I’m sorry.”

He kicked at a few rocks at his feet, not wanting to make eye contact with you.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Yuta,” you answered softly, catching his attention, “I really like you too.”

His eyes went wide. “You do?”

You nodded in affirmation as he let out a breath of relief, his shy smile shining brighter than the reflection of the sun on ice.

Inumaki:

It was a warm spring day and you were in the school’s garden, basking in the sun. You opened an eye to see who it was disturbing your peace with their footsteps, but it was Inumaki; you smiled kindly at him and made room for him on the bench. You two loved to sit together, often in silence, and observe the beauty of nature.

“Kelp,” he greeted softly, a small wave sent your way as he sat next to you.

“It’s always nice to see you, Toge,” you said back, closing your eyes once more as you breathed in the scent of flowers.

Like usual, his presence was a comfort to you and you felt like you could fall asleep at any moment, wanting nothing more than to rest your head on his shoulder in a display of your affection for him. Before you could let that happen, though, you heard another pair of footsteps approach and you quickly brought yourself out of your daydream.

“Hey Inumaki! Y/n!” Yuta called out, joining you in the garden.

“Yuta! Hello!” you greeted back while Inumaki waved at him.

“I can’t stay too long because I have to study but I brought something for you, y/n,” he said, smiling sweetly as he procured a tiny bag from his pocket, handing it to you. “They’re seeds. The owner of a shop I was at today was giving them out and supposedly the flowers are your favorite color so I figured you could plant them somewhere here in the garden.”

“Yuta! Oh my gosh, thank you!” you replied, giving him a hug in your excitement.

“It’s really nothing,” he said, a tiny blush appearing on his cheeks. “Well, I have to go, but I hope to see you both soon!”

You both bid him goodbye as you pocketed the seeds, eager to get the okay from the school to plant the flowers. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him but Inumkai seemed to have some sort of inner turmoil brewing after the short meeting; you could sense the hurt emanating from him.

“What’s wrong?” you wondered, curious as to what brought those feelings on all of a sudden.

“Cheesy,” was all he said, turning away from you.

“Aww, is someone jealous?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Bonito flakes,” Toge quickly grumbled, not meeting your gaze.

“You’re a horrible liar, you know,” you teased, pushing against his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be. Yuta’s not the one I have feelings for. You are, remember? Or do I have to confess all over again?”

You leaned over and tugged his collar down the slightest bit, planting a kiss on his cheek. Inumkai’s gaze landed on you once more as he gripped one of your hands tightly and typed on his phone with his other hand, saying:

I’m sorry, that was super lame of me. Yuta’s cool and that was nice of him to bring those for you. But TRUST it will be ME helping you plant those flowers.

And I’ll pick one to bring to you every morning when they’ve bloomed🙂‍↕️😌

“You really are my dream man,” you said, resting your head in his lap as you finally fell asleep in the comfort of the sun and Toge.

Noritoshi:

It was lunchtime at the Kyoto school and you found yourself in the shared kitchen with your classmate Noritoshi.

“Whatcha making?” you wondered, peering over his shoulder.

“Ramen,” came his answer, short and to the point as always. You watched him closely, taking in his every move.

“Do you not know how to cook and that’s why you’re staring me down?” he asked with a slightly annoyed expression.

“I do know how to cook, thank you very much. You’re just interesting to observe.”

Before he could ask what you meant by that, Todo came waltzing in.

“Todo! Just the person I wanted to see,” you greeted. “Do you want to make lunch with me?”

He heartily agreed and you two got to work, pulling out various pots and pans as Noritoshi finished making his own dish and sat down to eat. You and Todo were having the time of your lives, joking around and laughing while creating your meal. Noritoshi, on the other hand, was trying his best not to frown any more than he did on a usual day.

Or puke.

Noritoshi watched the way you lit up with Todo, having the time of your life doing something so mundane, and he desperately wished he wasn’t unnecessarily cold to you minutes earlier.

When your lunch was finally cooked, Todo took his food outside while you stayed in with Noritoshi, taking up the spot next to him. Normally he made some sort of remark about how loud or dirty you were in the kitchen, but today he was quiet.

“You seem bothered by something. Did I upset you?” you asked. His hair made a swishing noise as he turned to you.

“Why would you have upset me?”

“I don’t know. I always seem to, anyway,” you said with a tiny chuckle, taking a bite of your food.

“Not today, you didn’t. I’m dealing with something personal.”

“You can tell me if you want. I’m a person, you know.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes at your playful demeanor. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because it’s about you, okay?”

His eyes grew wide when he realized he admitted that out loud. You chewed quietly, hoping he would continue.

“The way you and Todo effortlessly get along, I don’t understand it. I’m envious of your relationship with him. Sometimes I wish…” He stopped for a second. “All of the time I wish that was you and me. I want to be the one that makes your eyes light up like that.”

“Noritoshi, I never knew you felt that way,” you responded after a few seconds of silence.

“Yeah, that was sort of my goal,” he replied, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I’ve actually had a crush on you for a long time,” you said bashfully, surprising him further. “Would you maybe wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”

“If you still have feelings for me after my lame confession,” a small smile appearing on his lips, “then I’d be even more of a fool to turn you down.”

Todo:

Standing in line to meet your favorite idol, you and Aoi were brimming with excited energy. You loved that you could bond with your boyfriend over your mutual love for Takada, including doing all of the super fan activities like waiting in line for hours on end. You turned around to look at the buildings behind you, wanting a view different from the one you’d been staring at since early that morning.

“Woah, seeing your face for the first time was like a breath of the finest spring air. You’re stunning,” said the man directly behind you in line. You couldn’t believe he was hitting on you with your six-foot-something, muscly beast of a boyfriend standing next to you, but you took the comment in stride—it didn’t hurt to be complimented by others every once in awhile! Todo never cared either, nor were you bothered by the looks of admiration he received from men and women alike while you two strolled any given street.

“You’re very kind, thank you,” you responded. He asked what your favorite song of Takada’s was, and from there you two engaged in small talk. He was super nice and very interesting, telling you facts about the various buildings in the downtown area you were at, along with lesser known Takada trivia.

“Next time Takada is in town,” he started, “we should go to the event together. If I could get your number-”

All of a sudden, Aoi turned around and cracked his knuckles, an intimidating look present on his face.

“You better back off or I’ll make sure all your teeth are missing in your meet and greet photo with Takada-chan,” he told the man, who let out a scared squeal, gulping and nodding. Aoi put a protective arm around your shoulder as he spun you forward once more.

“I never thought I’d see the day of you being jealous,” you teased, leaning your head against him.

“Me neither, but I guess that’s the only con of having such an attractive partner,” he replied, a determined expression on his face. “No one can get between my love for you and Takada-chan.”

Ino:

You were standing in line at a cafe with Ino, eager to get your hands on a warm drink to ease the bite of the winter chill. Snuggling up to the man next to you, you leaned your head against his shoulder while waiting in the impossibly long line. Ino gave your forehead a chaste kiss but pulled away in an instant.

“Babe! Your skin is freezing!” he all but yelled.

“You’re being dramatic,” you said with an eye roll. Without a second thought, he reached for your hands and, upon feeling the cold skin there as well, let go immediately.

“Your hands are freezing, too! Lemme buy you some gloves.”

“Ino, that’s really not necessary, I’m fine-”

“Be right back! Order for me, would ya?” he called out, leaving you shaking your head in amusement. That man would steal the sun for you if he thought you needed the extra light to read.

As you predicted, the line was at a standstill for quite awhile. You twiddled your thumbs as you waited for either Ino to come back and entertain you or for you to finally occupy your cold mouth with a hot drink. After many minutes of boredom, the line started moving and it was your turn to order. You told the employee the two drinks you wanted and paid, thanking him.

“What’s the name for the drinks?” he asked, eyeing you in a manner you found a bit suspicious.

“Y/n.”

“I’ll let you know when those are ready, y/n,” he answered, putting an uncomfortable emphasis on your name.

“…Yeah. Thanks,” you said apprehensively.

As you waited for the drinks to be made, you anxiously glanced around but there was no sign of Ino. Maybe gloves weren’t easy to find around this neighborhood?

After what felt like another eternity, your name was called and you approached the drink counter. The employee handed you the drinks and you tried to ignore the glaringly obvious phone number.

“Call me sometime, yeah?” he suggested, a smirk resting on his lips.

You glanced at the cup with his phone number scrawled on it, raising your eyebrows. “Thanks so much for that. Since this is his drink, I’ll let my boyfriend know you’re interested in him.”

“Oh-that’s not-I didn’t-” the employee floundered with embarrassment as you left with a laugh, taking your drinks to Ino who must have made his way back into the cafe sometime during the whole ordeal.

“Here’s a pair of gloves,” Ino greeted you, his smile not at all reaching his eyes like it normally does. You thanked him profusely as you set his drink in front of him and put on the gloves, relishing in the warmth they brought you.

“What’s wrong? You seem sad. Did something happen while you were out?” you questioned, worried for him.

“No, no. It’s nothing. I’m being dumb.”

You furrowed your brows and took a sip of your drink. “No way it’s nothing. I can tell something’s bothering you. I wanna help.”

“Well, I…” Ino stopped and took in a deep breath. “You were laughing with that employee and I see that he gave you his phone number and now I’m feeling a type of way about it.”

Ino looked away, almost ashamed as he sipped from his drink as well. You quickly reached for his unoccupied hand.

“Oh, Ino, you have it all wrong. I was laughing at him for putting his number on your drink. I certainly wasn’t interested in him and you have nothing to be jealous over.” You gave his hand a squeeze as his big eyes looked into yours. “You’re the only man I could ever want. You’re the one who treats me like royalty. Who else would brave the cold like you did to buy me a pair of gloves when I have too many pairs that I left at home?”

“Probably not that guy,” Ino mumbled, his cheeks pink.

“Definitely not that guy,” you said with a smile, bringing his hand to your lips and giving it a kiss. “Now, enjoy your drink. I had to brave his idiocracy to get it to you.”

Gojo:

You didn’t know what kind of gods were listening to you or what kind of magic you possessed, but somehow you managed to have both Gojo and Nanami over at your place for dinner one night. You were close friends with both and loved to hang out with them any time you could.

You and Nanami were currently chopping up vegetables while Gojo watched from afar, playing games on his phone. You and Nanami worked quietly and efficiently while Gojo huffed.

“Am I going to be banished over here forever?” he wondered.

“Yes,” you and Nanami answered in tandem, moving around each other perfectly as you dumped the vegetables into a pan and he put the scraps in the compost bin.

“It’s not fair. I’m an adult too, you know,” he complained. Nanami gave you a look before raising an eyebrow at Gojo.

“Are we sure about that?” he said, earning another grumble from Gojo.

“Satoru, you can help me cook the meat if you’d like,” you offered, not wanting to ostracize the poor man. It’s not his fault he’s horrible at cooking! Maybe if you supervised, he’d learn something today.

He learned that fire alarms are loud and you should never pour water on a grease fire.

“That could’ve gone… worse,” you reasoned, looking at the charred pile of what once was food in your pan.

Nanami pulled his apron off and his phone out. “I’m getting us takeout. I’ll be back in a half hour or so.” He pointed at Gojo as he stood in the doorway. “You better not burn this place down.”

When the door clicked closed, Gojo let out a long sigh as he put his head in his hands.

“I can’t believe I messed that up. You guys make cooking look so easy, especially when you’re in the kitchen together.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Satoru,” you told him, trying to salvage your pan, “we’ve cooked together a lot over the years. It doesn’t happen overnight.”

“The way you two moved together in sync. When I saw that I just wished it was…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, opting to rest his head against the table he was sitting at. You felt a tug at your heartstrings seeing him so dejected.

“Wished it was what?” you questioned, walking over to him and resting your hand on his back.

“Us,” he said plainly, lifting his head and blindfold up, his blue eyes sparkling. “I wish it was you and I like that. A team. Watching you and Nanami made me realize how much I want to spend my time with you, y/n. Be with you.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Are you serious?”

“For one of the first times in my life, yes,” he replied, his lips upturned in a smile.

You moved your hand from his back to his hair, ruffling it. “I’d like to be with you too, Satoru. We can figure out the logistics of what that means for us after our first task as a couple, which is to clean the pan you obliterated.”

“Can’t I just buy you a new one?” he groaned, standing up to help you.

“Nope.”

“I really do hate cooking.”

Geto:

With dropping temperatures came the chance for you to show off your warmest jackets as you strolled around the cold city streets. Today, you were wearing one of your favorites, made out of cozy, teddy bear-like fabric. You and Suguru had been walking along the streets together but he had stepped inside a shop to buy you both a hot drink. You opted to stand outside in the brisk air, enjoying the winter season to its fullest.

“Excuse me,” a man said, coming up to you, “I hate to bother you but I wanted to tell you I liked your jacket.”

“Oh! Thank you,” you replied, caught off guard by his compliment. He asked you a question and you two fell into conversation, the man helping you pass the time before your boyfriend was by your side once more.

“This might sound strange, but can I touch your jacket? It looks really soft,” he wondered, looking bashful.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, totally unbothered. He cautiously brought his fingertips to your arm and felt the fabric. Unfortunately for him, it was really bad timing.

“Step aside or I’ll rip your dirty fingers off your shameful hands one by one and force feed them to you,” Suguru chimed in, appearing before the man with a disconcertingly calm smile. The stranger scurried off, a look of horror stuck to his facial features, but he luckily survived this encounter with your boyfriend so you figured he’d be fine.

“Are you alright, my dear?” asked Suguru, handing you the two drinks while he straightened your jacket.

“I am, thank you. You’re scary when you’re jealous,” you observed, your stomach fluttering with butterflies over his display of protectiveness.

“Oh? That’s good to know,” he hummed airily, taking his drink in one hand and your hand in his other one. “That filth was lucky to escape with his life today. I was hesitant to do anything that might have spilled our drinks.”

“Thank you for this, by the way,” you said, gesturing to the cup.

“Anything for my one and only. Now, where did you buy that jacket? I’m going to get you a new one that’s unsoiled.”

Nanami:

“Y/nnnnn! I’m boredddd. You and Nanami should come shopping with me!”

Gojo was practically whining at you through the cellphone speaker. You rolled your eyes as you looked over at Kento, your boyfriend shoving his nose deeper into the morning newspaper he was reading.

“I don’t think Kento’s in the mood to go out right now, Satoru.”

“Well, how about you? C’mon, please?”

“Hold on. I’ll check with Kento.”

“Aww, do you need his permission-”

You ignored the teasing from the white haired man as Kento gave you a nod.

“That’s fine by me if you’d like to go. I have work to finish anyway.”

“Thank you,” you mouthed to him before answering Gojo. “Meet me at the train station in 10?”

“I’ll get there in 8,” he replied, ending the call. You gave Kento a kiss and left your shared apartment.

Late that evening you returned home, your arms full of bags.

“I take it you had a good time?” questioned Kento, his arms folded and eyebrows slightly raised. “You were gone quite some time.”

“Oh my gosh we had such a great time! Satoru took me everywhere. We started…”

As you recounted your day excitedly, Nanami’s heart felt heavier and heavier. Noticing his quietness, you stopped in your tracks.

“Kento? Are you alright?”

He sighed. “It’s nothing, really. It’s… juvenile.”

Your eyes softened as you took a seat next to him. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Another sigh. “You had a lovely outing with Gojo but I can’t remember the last time we had that much fun together. I’m… jealous of the way he has you smiling so much.”

“Kento, honey,” you soothed, putting your hand on his, “there’s no need to be jealous. Yes, my time with Satoru was exhilarating, but it was extremely exhausting. I much prefer the fun you and I have together; the kind that’s comfortable and familiar. You make me smile first thing in the morning all the way to the time I sleep and even in my dreams. You’re my favorite person to be with in this whole world and I’m sorry if my actions led you to assume otherwise.”

“You’re right. I was being silly. I’m sorry, too,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red from embarrassment.

“Hey, I got you a little something when I was out,” you told him, reaching into one of your bags. You pulled out a box and gave him a gentle kiss.

“I love you so much,” he murmured against your lips, pulling you in close.

Choso:

After looking through the peephole, you answered your door with a warm smile.

“Please, come in!”

Your landlord had come to collect your rent. He was a good natured guy with a kind wife and new baby; his apartment complex was nice as well, as was the reasonable price he charged per month so you had no complaints. You always liked to make small talk with him while you procured the envelope of cash you had lying around since he made for good company. You two spoke for a little while before you opened the door and said goodbye, knowing your boyfriend Choso should be coming up your steps at any moment.

All Choso saw as he walked up your stairs was a handsome young man leaving your apartment, making you laugh on his way out.

He didn’t like it.

At all.

“Who might you be?” he questioned the man, his voice carrying an underlying tinge of displeasure.

Your landlord put his hand out for Choso to shake. “I’m-”

“I’m Choso, y/n’s boyfriend,” he said with a glare, putting an emphasis on the last word. “We’ve been together for a while. A long while. Just so you know.”

“Choso,” you interjected before things could get any more awkward, “this is my landlord.”

Like a light was switched on in his brain, Choso’s eyes widened and he grasped your landlord’s hand that was still stretched out.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he told him sheepishly, obviously embarrassed.

“You as well, Choso. If you’ll both excuse me, I have to get home to my wife and child. Have a great rest of your morning.”

As your landlord left down the steps, Choso was already inside, slumped on the couch.

“I’m such an idiot,” he groaned. You let out a tiny giggle.

“You went in pretty strong there, but I can’t say I blame you. It must’ve looked weird seeing a guy come out of my apartment so early in the morning. I would’ve been jealous too if I were in your shoes.”

“I wasn’t jealous!” he replied.

You raised your eyebrows. “Really? The way you emphasized boyfriend? Saying we’ve been together a long while? I would’ve thought you were going to fight him if I didn’t intervene.”

“I would’ve,” Choso spoke without hesitation.

“If he ever raises the rent,” you said, kissing his cheek, “I’ll gladly support that.”

Toji:

You were on your way to have lunch with your friend Toji when an attractive man your age waltzed up to you and struck up conversation as you walked to the cafe. Since you were single and he was cute enough, you let him entertain you on your journey. You could tell he was turning on the charm as much as he could, making you laugh at his silly quips. That lasted all the way until you bid him farewell when Toji came into view. Looking dejected at the goodbye, your admirer sauntered away.

“I didn’t get his number,” you thought to yourself, “what a shame. Oh well.”

You greeted Toji with a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you.

“I’m starving! Let’s order,” you told him, already browsing the menu the restaurant had posted outside.

“After you then,” Toji replied, opening the door for you.

You both ordered your food at the counter and sat at a table, talking about what you both had been up to in the time you hadn’t seen each other. You noticed Toji’s gaze wander away from you every so often, but you thought nothing of it—he had a very protective nature so he was probably keeping an eye on people he deemed suspicious. You got your answer of who he was watching at the end of your meal when your story about dinner with your friends was interrupted by Toji’s booming voice.

“What the fuck are you lookin’ at, huh?” Toji asked aggressively to someone over your shoulder. You looked over to find the man that was flirting with you had taken up a seat in the booth diagonal to you and Toji, and must have been staring at you throughout your lunch.

“Oh, now you wanna act coy? You were a big man the past half hour, eyeing them up,” he snarled, jabbing a thumb your way. “We got a problem or not?”

“No! No problem, sir!” The man all but ran out of the restaurant, not even sparing you a second glance. You rolled your eyes at his cowardice; he’d never find a partner if he couldn’t find his backbone. Toji leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms in annoyance.

“Now I can finish my meal in peace. It was difficult to eat in the presence of that lovesick loser.”

“Hey,” you scolded, “is it that sickening to know someone has a crush on me?”

“Yeah, actually, it is,” he responded, leaning in. “I don’t want to see another man looking at you like that.”

You furrowed your brow. “Another man-? Toji, are you jealous or something?”

“What? No, no way. That’s ridiculous,” he said defensively, but you noticed the way he started shoveling food into his mouth to avoid further conversation.

“So if I said that guy flirted with me the entire walk over here? That wouldn’t make you feel anything?”

“I’d feel annoyed that he bothered you,” he said between bites of his meal.

“And if I wasn’t annoyed? If I liked him coming onto me strongly like that, if he gave me his phone number?”

Toji’s fists clenched at that. “He better not have.”

“What would it matter to you?” you challenged, not backing down.

“Fine! Maybe I do like you. So what?” he barked. “It makes me angry that guys approach you. If that’s jealousy, then yeah, I’m jealous. Now, will you stop your interrogation like I’m some sorta kid in trouble?”

A grin showed up on your face with this newfound knowledge. “Last question, Mr. Fushiguro: what would you do if I said I liked you too?”

He finally looked up from his bowl of noodles. “I’d ask if you were being serious.”

“I am.”

Toji put his chopsticks down and smirked. “In that case, I’d kiss you like I’ve been wanting to for a long time now and then chase down the dude that thought he could get away with flirting with my partner like that.”

[witherby]

Part 7 of mer!reader?🫣🫣🫣

Of course! I think it's time to get you and Damian back together.

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader Part 7

Masterlist with all parts Here!

Content features upsetting Mer behavior and unsafe diving practices. Wear your protective gear, people!

It takes another month for your routine to settle back into a semblance of normalcy. The specialists Bruce told Damian about had spent three days observing your behaviors and drew up a detailed care plan to help you recover as best as you could, which the facility follows with great enthusiasm.

You wake up and swim to the entrance of the tank to receive breakfast from Jon. Afterwards, he and Clark gently roll you out of the tank to apply weird-smelling salves to the patches on your tail, encouraging it to heal correctly and for new scales to grow. You sit and wait for the salve to absorb, then you get back into the water to play a little, and then it's Attention Time.

You swim all the way to the bottom floor of your tank, where visitors come admire you through the tunnels under your tank for several hours. Sometimes you have the energy to do a trick or two.

Then, it's back up to the top of the tank for dinner, more playtime, and then you get to sleep until tomorrow where you do it all again.

But the lethargy remains. The stinging, empty space in your chest only seems to grow the more you see Damian dispassionately leading tours and refusing to look at you. Of all the people that come to admire you, the one person whose attention you actually want, you cannot get.

Jon, bless him, is trying so hard to keep you happy. He talks to you every day, he gives you tons of treats, he swims with you as long as you want him to, and he's given you so many new toys that they've overtaken your cute rock collection. His effort is why you're doing your best to hide how bad you still feel.

And his company does help! It does. You can comfortably call him a friend, and mean it. But you are so tired. You miss Damian so much. You feel drained, and the urge to remain inside your little hideout gets stronger every passing day.

Every night, in the comforting darkness of your castle spire, the old bricks pressing against your body and shielding you from the rest of the world, you allow your thoughts to drift back to the boy with beautiful, emerald eyes without fail.

You think of the first time you met him, and how he looked at you as just another dumb animal in the aquarium for him to care for. You think of the first time you made him realize you were so much more — how you'd done every trick he commanded with such attitude and even mocked him back that he actually cracked a smile. You think of the first time you pulled him into the water to show him your favorite parts of your habitat, and then how he reassured you it was fine that you almost drowned him by accident because he knew you hadn't meant to. You think of all the times he snuck in after hours to spend just a little more time with you, to play just one more game, to ensure you didn't feel like another part of his job he had to do but someone he genuinely looked forward to seeing.

You think of the pretty blush on his face when you mustered the courage to give him your scales.

You think of all the gifts you left him afterwards, and how you didn't get any back.

You think of his dispassionate expression as he leads another group of visitors into your enclosure, day after day after day.

Your chest burns. You weep into the water and succumb to fitful slumber.

--

"I need a dive team to the Mer tank please! Right now!"

Damian furrows his brow, momentarily pausing his work. He's in the dolphin exhibit currently hand-feeding them when the announcement comes over the speaker system. He wonders what you're doing to have freaked Jon out, but it's not his place to care anymore, so he tries to push the curiosity from his mind and refocus on his task.

One dolphin in particular is pretty bad about taking food from a handler. It's also just food aggressive in general, bullying its pod-mates out of the way to get to the food first. Damian can't help but compare how much smarter you are to these animals. He sighs.

"Doctor Kent to the Mer exhibit!"

Hmm. Did you breach your tank again? Or maybe you bumped your body against the spire you like to sleep inside. Damian tried to tell his father that the rough brick texture could hurt your more vulnerable top half if not careful, but Bruce was certain you'd be alright. He wonders what kind of fuss you're kicking up today, if it's a real issue or if Jon hasn't been around you long enough to realize that sometimes you fake a problem because it's funny.

"All divers to the Mer exhibit please!"

Tim rushes through the door into the dolphin exhibit, startling Damian into dropping the bucket. He quickly backs up with a gasp as the dolphins swarm to the food and start gobbling it up. He faces Tim with a glare.

"Does nobody know how to follow protocol anymore? You're supposed to knock before you —"

"You need to get upstairs," Tim says, holding up an access key to your enclosure, "like right now. Vitals on our mer are really bad, we can't extract them from the spire and —"

Damian doesn't stick around to hear him finish that sentence. He snatches the key and sprints through the aquarium like the devil's on his fucking heels. His heart is racing and not from the exertion. He forgoes the elevator and starts rushing up the stairs three at a time, climbing floor by floor by floor to get to you as fast as he can.

It was a real emergency, then? What had happened? Jon was supposed to be taking care of you now. You were supposed to be recovering. You were supposed to be happier without him, now.

What was wrong with you?

There's no time to head into the locker room and get a wetsuit on. He jams the key into the exhibit door and throws it open, rushing into the room with single-minded focus.

Jon is in a wetsuit and treading water, relaying information to his dad with a worried frown. Clark is kneeling next to the tank and giving him instructions on how to get you to the surface. Dick is sitting on the lip of the tank and wiggling into a suit of his own, very unfamiliar with the gear as he doesn't dive with Mers. Bruce is on the phone and standing by Clark, looking more and more concerned as the situation develops.

When Damian bursts in, Dick startles and looks up at him, fumbling with the clasp on his flipper.

"Dami, go ahead and get a suit on. We need you to — DAMIAN!"

He doesn't think. Doesn't stop to listen to whatever Clark's rambling on about. Doesn't wait for permission before he kicks his shoes off, takes a running start, and dives into the tank in his plainclothes. He pedals his arms and kicks his feet as hard as he can and goes down, down, down, deeper into your vast tank and towards your favorite resting place. The effort is tremendous without the slim, hydrodynamic suit to aid him and a rebreather to allow him to stay down here for long periods of time. He pushes past it all and keeps going. You are in trouble and he is going to help you.

When he makes it to the spire and swims around to the entrance, he immediately sees the issue. Your body is curled into the mer version of fetal position; your arms are locked around your waist in an embrace and your tail is coiled underneath you in a tight spiral, twisted around itself and wedging you deeply into the cramped space. The angle of your body, coupled with the tight spacing of the hideaway, make it nearly impossible to pull you out.

In the wild, a mer found in this position is an almost universal signifier that they are near death.

If there's no intervention, you are going to die today.

Damian climbs into the spire with you, squeezing his body inside with a low grunt. A burst of bubbles escape from his mouth. If he can't pull you out — a dangerous move which would damage your tail and break your fins if they tried — he has to unfold you.

His back scrapes against the bricks and pain rockets down his spine. Another bunch of bubbles fly out. He grits his teeth and starts carefully pushing at you, gingerly moving your upper half, then your lower half, around and around and around to create enough space to safely push you free.

His chest is heaving. Damian is exhausted and quickly running out of breath. He cannot stop. If he stops, you won't make it.

He jerks when something jabs his ankle, arms wrapping protectively around you as his head snaps down to see what happened.

Jon is hovering just by the spire opening, holding a rebreather in his hand and shaking it insistently at him.

Damian reaches around you and makes a few grabs at it, finally curling his fingers around the device and pushing it into his mouth. He clicks the button to turn it on and almost coughs when oxygen starts to flow into his lungs. He slumps against you briefly, taking in your closed eyes and face twisted into agony.

What happened, he thinks. How did this happen to you, Princess?

His ankle is jabbed again. Damian looks back at Jon, who has his hands out in an offer of help. Damian gently starts to maneuver you around again, slowly but steadily unfolding your body, and when Jon catches on, helps do the same thing from your opposite side.

It is painstaking work. Dick eventually gets into the water to join in, but there's no room for him, so he hovers to the side ready to help carry your body to the surface when you're finally free.

It feels like it takes hours, but can't be more than twenty minutes. Twenty minutes too long in Damian's opinion. Eventually, your body is unwound enough to ease you out of the spire without injury, and the three men rush you to the surface where Clark and four other vets are waiting to take you. It becomes a flurry of activity after that.

Damian spits out the rebreather when his feet are back on solid ground. He pants and doubles over, limbs shaking from exertion, and watches the medical team assess your condition and fret over you. You're loaded onto a special stretcher and whisked from the room, and he's about to follow suit when a hand clasps over his wrist.

"No," he rasps, already gearing up the breath to scream at his father, but Bruce just shakes his head and presses a towel into his hands.

"Here," he says, voice soft and knowing. "Here, Tadpole. I just want you to get dry before you follow them into the medical bay. You can't help anybody if you get sick."

Damian clutches it, staring at his father with no small amount of trepidation. Bruce just sighs.

"I'm sorry, Damian. I am. We'll talk about it later, but I won't separate you two again. You have my word." He jerks his head toward the doors. "Go dry off and change in the locker room. I'll call Medical and tell them to let you in when you're done."

Damian throws his arms around Bruce, uncaring about how he's soaking his dad. Evidently Bruce doesn't care either, if the fierceness in which he hugs him back is any indication.

"Thank you," Damian whispers, then pulls away to head to the lockers.

[wonderjanga]

Yo, Wanna Hang Out?

Billy asking people if they want to hang out at the strangest places. They hang out with him anyways regardless of the places are strange.

Marvel: *in the kitchens packing up a fishing kit looking like someone’s dad getting ready to fish*

Aquaman: *nearby, making a sandwich* “You know, I’ve never seen you wear a bucket hat let alone civilian clothes before.”

Marvel: “What do you mean? It’s a fisherman’s hat. And I’m wearing it because I’m gonna go fishing.”

Aquaman: “Still a bucket hat…”

Martian Manhunter(MM): *also nearby, rummaging through the freezer looking for ice cream* “Fishing? Where?”

Aquaman: “Are you gonna go to a big lake or something?”

Marvel: “Yeah! I’m going to the frozen over one on Mars.”

MM: *looks over, now distracted from his quest of finding ice cream* “What-”

Marvel: “The fish there are so cool looking! I was gonna catch a few and then throw them back into the water, you know?”

MM: “No… No I don’t know.” *shakes head slowly*

Aquaman: “Wait, Mars has lakes?”

Marvel: “Yeah! In the south pole. It’s under some ice. Do you wanna come?”

Aquaman: “Well, I mean sure? I’m down to fish with you, but I don’t wanna do that if I have to wear a space suit.”

Marvel: “I don’t think you have to. I remember seeing Supes wearing this thing over his mouth and nose, and it allowed him to breathe in space.”

Aquaman: “Oh cool!”

Marvel: “Yeah, but apparently it’s super cold down there.”

MM: “It is. In human degrees it’s negative 153 degrees Celsius.”

Aquaman: “What’s that in American-”

Marvel: “So yeah! You might have to bundle up or maybe I could cast the heating spell on you? Just know it’ll be really really cold. By the way, J’onn, are you coming too?”

MM: *shrugs* “If you’ll have me.”

They ended up actually getting attacked by this giant, Martian, vaguely octopus-resembling creature. It was an epic battle of which they brought some of it back to the Watchtower and ate a bunch of octopus dishes together.

or

Marvel: *packing some stuff in a little bag and whistling a little tune while dressed like a gardener*

Hawkgirl: “Captain? Are you going somewhere?”

Marvel: “Oh, I’m going to Thanagar cause I wanna pick up this species of plant that only grows there. Wanna come?”

Hawkgirl: “I sort of can’t, considering the fact the entire planet thinks I’m a war criminal for betraying them.”

Marvel: “Wear a disguise. Want me to conjure a fake mustache on you?”

Hawkgirl: *snorts* “No.”

Marvel: “You sure? It doesn’t have to be a fake mustache. We can just change some things about you, like your hair color.”

Hawkgirl: “Hmm…” *rubs her chin, thinking* “Can Carter come along?”

Marvel: “Of course!”

They got caught and ended up going on this wacky adventure of evading the authorities. They even got arrested. Multiple times. They also broke out. Multiple times. It was fun for everyone involved besides the Thanagarian Law Enforcement.

or

Marvel: *humming a tune as he stands inside of a heavily restricted building that only allows people of the highest military clearance access to*

Captain Atom: *is also here because one of his superiors told him to report here and sees Marvel* “Captain Marvel Sir? What are you-” *looks around* “What are you doing here?”

Marvel: “Hey, Atom!” *little wave* “What do you mean?”

Captain Atom: “This is a military building with restricted access. I know you have Captain in your name, but I didn’t actually think you were in any of the branches. Let alone high enough in whatever branch to have access to this place.”

Marvel: “Oh no, I’m not military. I’m just here to renew my contract. I just finished.”

Captain Atom: “Contract?”

Marvel: “See a long time ago, a.k.a. the 1950s, heroes would do contractual jobs for the United States Government. Me and the Squadron of Justice used to do a lot of them.”

Captain Atom: “So that means I’ll be seeing you around here more often?”

Marvel: “Yep! Me and the other Fawcett heroes.”

Super Duper High Level Person In the Government(SDHLPITG): *walks over while holding a clipboard* “Oh, it seems you both are already acquainted.”

Captain Atom: “Ah, yes. We’re both on the Justice League ma’am.”

SDHLPITG: “So that means you’ll be good teammates. Wonderful.” *hands a clipboard to Captain Atom* “The head honcho wants you guys to investigate a portal in Antartica.” *looks to Marvel* “Your first job back with us.” *nods to him before leaving*

Captain Atom: *starts looking through it*

Marvel: *looks over his shoulder to see it* “Isn’t that the portal that leads to the Winter Fairy realm?”

Captain Atom: “What?”

Marvel: “Oh my gosh it is! That place is super cool! Their ice cream is amazing. You should try some.” *nudges him with his elbow*

Captain Atom: “Oh- uh- Okay?” *confused if that means they’ll be interacting with the mentioned fairies*

That’s how Atom and Marvel ended up eating fairy ice cream while surrounded by a bunch of fairies who were all super happy to see the Champion of Magic. They were both made into honorary fairies.

Captain Atom: *staring at the bowl of fairy liquid the Winter Fairies gave them* “Marvel… I don’t know if it’s a good idea to drink a foreign substance that looks like an oil spill.”

Marvel: “Oh trust me, it’s not dangerous or anything. It’ll just give you wings!”

Captain Atom: “What-”

Marvel: *downs his bowl*

After that, all the Winter fairies shied away from them as their wings were too hot for them. After all, Marvel’s was comprised of lightning which is hot, and Atom’s was comprised of the same matter as his energy blasts which were also extremely hot.

Marvel: *leans over to whisper* “Don’t worry. I can magic them away when we leave this place.”

Captain Atom: *lets out a little sigh of relief as he resumes eating his remaining ice cream*

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 06/01✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: Do the little monkeys on Flower Fruit mountain ever see at Wukong and Macaque bickering like an old married couple and think to themselves 'just kiss already'?

Yes. They keep doing and Wukong tries to stop them otherwise Macaque could hear them (he already does)

Anonimo ha chiesto: Been reading up on Macaque Body Language and found this: "A peculiar behaviour displayed by macaques is lip smacking. Between macaques, lip smacking is used to show submission, affection and reconciliation. This behaviour is a form of communication and is sometimes accompanied with cooing vocalisations and mild raising of eyebrows." So now I can't stop imaging Monkey King and Macaque just smacking lips and raising eyebrows to each other instead of saying "I love you" or after a fight just smacking lips and then hugging. But then I also started questioning, do the two monkeys in your AU actually use monkey body language to communicate? Or is it just human language they use? Great work on your AU btw! Loving the art and story ^^

Mm some? Like a little but not too much. But that’s an adorable trivia!!

Does macaque know about Wukong's stage fright?👀

Yes.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Baby MK lives in my head rent free. If Wukong or Macaque were trappen in the calabash than their perfect world would be one where they could raise mk without him having to fight or get hurt and traumatized

I THINK the fanfiction series Squashed Apricots is just about this if it can interest you.

@abbytheslothwitch ha chiesto: In your AU or your general opinion, which monkey dad is the taller one; Wukong or Macaque?

Macaque

Anonimo ha chiesto: The way you draw Pigsy honestly is one of the best I've seen I mean just look at him!!! He doesn't have the proportions of a regular human because he's not human and it works so well! I dunno he just looks cool in your artstyle and design That all I had to say :]]]]

Thank you so much!!!♥️♥️♥️ He’s honestly quite hard to draw exactly bc of that, but it’s good practice! Him and DBK are generally harder, I’m not super used to draw animals.

@peach-fury ha chiesto: Ello! Sorry, it's me again But just had a thought, sense Macaque has died and went to Dìyù or the underworld. (I think that's were the book of death is) Wouldn't he be at least scared or nervous to go back? Idk like bad memories like their fight or the lady bone demon or something? Idk maybe overthinking or that I just like angsty :P (P.s I fricking love your art and your AU's so much!!!!)

Yes. I believe he wouldn’t like the idea. I like to think he”s actually terrified. But he wouldn’t care less if it means to protect and help his baby.

Anonimo ha chiesto: will MK try to try change his name into nobody or something form of loophole name so that can be like ohhhh nobody us in trouble! Everyone is safeeee! And nezha’s dad is like wait no

Ahah that’s a good idea! Unfortunately that isn’t the plan

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out we know Wukong made the bed because he made it bigger. It's made out of peach tree wood. And carved moon and suns and stars on the headboard.

AWWWW!!😭😭😭😭😭

@a1teruniverse ha chiesto: What's the hardest panel you've drawn

It is a panel if it’s an animation?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will u ever do flash backs for shadowpeach thats “happy” like them first meeting realizing there in love a jealous mac courtnapping the monkey king just being young and in love.

Mmm yeah i wanna do smth like that. Don’t know when or how but i wanna.

Anonimo ha chiesto: does Wukong ever/will ever let glamours down and let like everything hang out like Mac would come in and his husband just causally has his boobs out and he’s like sweet my husband got hotter bc he’s pan(?) like I think you said that in an earlier post

I mean. I don’t think he has any issues dropping his glamours in front of macaque. I don’t think he would stay too much without his glamours bc still, I guess he would have some slight dysphoria. Also I mean, yeah Macaque loves him with or without boobies. But if Wukong could choose he would prefer not to have them out if he can.

Anonimo ha chiesto: which bottle is every ship in your lmk comic chugging? (I’m talking about your red bubble stickers for ao3 tags I would find it but I’m lazyyyh)

Shadowpeach is hurt & comfort (which I saw now I didn’t uploaded but yeah I got that one as well.), slowburn, enemies to lovers, and angst cause- duh.

Spicynoodle I would say is fluff, oneshot, enemies to lovers, found family.

Anonimo ha chiesto: im so embarrassed to ask about this but, later when mk and red boy r dating, who would ask the other first on a date? What would the date be? Also what does dbk and pif personal opinion of their relationship? SORRY IF THIS HAS BEEN ASKED BEFORE😭

I think MK, because dates are something a little more human, and cause Red Son is a workaholic. It can either be something like a training session, a videogame session at Red castle, or just also the traffic light trio being competitive. DBK and PIF are supporting, mostly bc they know their family will be even more powerful with an union such as theirs. Of course PIF is supporting also cause MK is Mac baby.

@kandymaneuwu ha chiesto: On a scale of 1 to 10 how fluffy is macaque this is very important

10 with merits

@5hadowm0ch1 ha chiesto: When will Shadowpeach kiss? It's always head-to-head Pats (I'm trying to predict what happening)

b-b-b-b-b- but head-to-head pats are cute…

@majesticgazell ha chiesto: Ooohhh I’m just imagining Li Jing catching wind of the plan and activating MK’s fillet while he’s in the shadows… maybe he wouldn’t lose himself under normal circumstances, but with that thing tightening around his head? 👀 Just a thought

Hehe, isn’t that a possibility?

@nataszaluiz ha chiesto: So I have a few questions. First: do you plan on ending it before Season 6 releases or do you plan on continuing it and mixing it up with your AU? Second: have you heard theories that a fragment of Azure's Soul is placed in the blue flower that appears after it's sacrifice? Third: Will characters like Yellowtusk and Peng appear in your AU?

S6 seems to either happen next year or never, so I ve3ry much hope i finish my story sooner.

no i haven’t

mmmm i don’t know

@cheddarcheesebiscuit1 ha chiesto: I gotta ask, if MK would to ever get injured in his monkie form, then would Macaque/Wukong try to take him to a human doctor or a vet?

I know we all want to see Macaque and Wukong freaking out when their baby is sick, but I think we forget sometimes that, even though they aren’t medics, Wukong has a basic understanding how to heal wounds and medicine. Macaque is head-canoned many times to be an expert in fact. And I think there are demons/demonic doctors in case MK has some kind of curse or demonic sickness, which would be what actually makes them worry in the first place.

@ainnur ha chiesto: Mei and Wukong team up?! Wasabi Duo the party crasher🎉✨ Love them💕 They need more love as a duo

Their name IS WASABI DUO????????? AAAWWWWWW

@sleeo-goos10 ha chiesto: Hi kyri! Thank you for sparking my LMK hyper fixation and I’m really curious: Will we get more Nezha? How will he react knowing that the Buddha approved this? IF the Buddha approved it at all 👀

Yes you will have plenty of Nezha. Also if youo guys really want to know, yeah, the Buddha themself approved of this. No, Li Jing wasn’t lying.

@saphstories ha chiesto: KYRI PLEASE IF I ASK FOR NOTHING ELSE I NEED TO SEE HELICOPTER AUNT PIF AND UNCLE DBK IN THAT FIGHT BECAUSE *HEAVEN DID WHAT TO THEIR NEPHEW???* And I'm sorry but of freaking course Red Son being the brat he is would call Mommy and Daddy to tattle about how mean Heaven is for stealing his Monkey before he could. 😂😂 Can you tell how insane the extended Monkey Fam makes me? 😂😂😂 I love this AU, I can't wait to see more!

When they heard the news they wanted to come to help attack the palace as well, but Red Son stopped them saying smt like “HE IS MY FUTURE HOUSBAND AND I GET TO KIDNAP HIM OUT OF HEAVEN MOM!”

@anxiousbb-witch ha chiesto: Do I have a reason to fear the possibilities of the golden headband being used on MK and all the emotions and tears coming from it?

oh year, absolutely.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I just have the funny thought that MK woke up one morning in his true form and get jumpscared by looking at himself and see he has boobs again

nooouuuu poor baby! But yeah it’s a funny image

@monkieshad0w ha chiesto: HELLOO HELLOO! What’s ur opinion on sundial duo :D (if you don’t know what sundial duo is, it’s basically Macaque and Wukong being duos and besties but not lovers) :3

oohhh well I do live any pf my ships as besties as well! Platonic love is just as important as romantic one for me personally!

[whumpster-fire]

Regarding the design of staircases: while pre-industrial (and earlier industrial) societies did do all kinds of sketchy shit with staircase design, stairs do need to be pretty consistent to avoid turning into death traps. The maximum variation in the height and depth of steps within a staircase allowed by the International Residential Code and International Building Code is just 3/8 of an inch. Stair tread lengths also have to be long enough to fit the user's foot: generally a minimum of 10-11 inches in modern codes.

If I'm reading the drawing right, the third image essentially has alternating large and small steps, with the expectation that the larger species only uses the large steps, correct? However, the largest tread needs to be big enough to fit a Panthera's paw, and the height of any one riser, whether from long tread to short one or from short tread to long one, must be a uniform height that's usable by Mustels.

For the sake of easier math let's say the larger treads need to be 12" deep to safely accommodate Pantheras, a little larger than a human staircase, and an 8" total riser height is comfortable for them, while Mustels need a 6" tread depth, and to keep the riser heights consistent for them the riser height should be 4". (I'm using inches here because that's what the International Building Code has round numbers in for some reason). An individual staircase with these dimensions would have a slope of 2/3 (33.7 degrees): however, with this design, every pair of treads and risers has a total height of 8" and total length of 18", meaning the total slope is 4/9 (24 degrees). The combined staircase needs to cover 50% more horizontal distance for the same gain in height than one built for a single species would, and since a separate Mustel sized staircase wouldn't need to be as wide as a Panthera sized one, I think the space savings would be negligible in reality.

As for the usability of the stairs: if I was using those as a Mustel I'd need to either alternate between rising and non-rising strides (i.e. left foot on small tread, right foot on large tread, left foot on large tread, right foot on small tread) or lengthen my stride to cover the 18" distance between consecutive small treads in two steps, which could be awkward or difficult either way. As a Panthera I would need to use a longer stride length as well, and putting my foot on the small tread by accident would most likely result in tripping, but it would be somewhat manageable. As a Gilter, however, if the Mustel-sized tread is too small to safely step on I'd also be stuck using the Panthera-height steps which also need a longer than normal stride length, which would be even more awkward!

For the second staircase: if I'm reading it right the idea is if you're a Gilter you can have one foot on the small staircase and one foot on the large one and take steps that are half as long and high as if you were using the big stairs, right? This seems more or less usable if the half-sized treads are long enough for your feet, but if it's like, Gilters need a tread depth that's somewhere around 1-1/2 times as much as a Mustel, the half steps would have to be 8-9" long, so the big ones would have to be 16-18", and the height of the small risers is still constrained by what's usable by a Mustel so if that was 4", then again the "Small staircase in the middle" design ends up needing to have a shallower slope for the dimensions of the steps to be usable. This design is more usable for Gilters, but if it was built as shown then Mustels using it wouldn't have a handrail within reach which might lower the riser height they can safely use even further. A set of Mustel/Gilter sized railings in the center of the smaller steps would make it more usable, and putting Panthera-sized handrails on the outside would help direct them away from the smaller steps where they could trip and/or collide with smaller species, because the center section isn't really usable for Pantheras. If the idea is to build it narrow enough that a Panthera needs to place their feet on either side of the central smaller steps, that's going to kill someone, so in practice this staircase needs to be wide enough for a Panthera to walk on the side and completely avoid the small steps. That means these stairs have to be about as wide as a Mustel-sized staircase and a Panthera-sized staircase side by side, and with a shallower angle.

It looks like the smaller species also have proportionally shorter legs though, so the difference in ideal stride lengths might be a lot bigger than 2:1, plus the are the smaller species' feet proportionally bigger? If the riser height and tread depth that's usable for a Mustel is more like 1/3rd or 1/4th of what works for Panthera instead of 1/2 I think the third staircase ends up being impossible to build in a way where Mustels could ascend a step with every stride and would still require extra high steps for them, while for the second design making the smaller steps deep enough for Gilters without being really awkward for a Mustel.

The good news, however, is that a "Londo Style" approach, even if it had three fully separate sets of steps for all three species, would probably only need to be a little over twice as wide as just building a Panthera-sized staircase. And that's the worst case, for a "low traffic" staircase where they're only sized to be wide enough for either someone to go up in one direction or for one person in each direction. If it's a "high traffic" scenario where there are lots of users of all species and it would need to be built wide enough to have multiple "lanes" of people using it, splitting that width into separate staircases might have little or no impact on the total space a stairway takes up, and it might even accommodate more traffic if it prevents people from having to slow down to safely negotiate awkwardly sized steps / avoid collisions with smaller users.

Note also that this is assuming the larger species using the stairs also have significantly longer feet. If the largest species in a setting has proportionally short feet, e.g. if they're digitigrade or unguligrade, it may be possible to design stairs where the larger users can just climb them two steps at a time and still be able to safely put their feet on the treads. Depending on the design of a building there may also be other ways to reduce space: e.g. because Mustels and Gilters also need less headroom, you can reduce the footprint of a flight of stairs for them by putting in more frequent landings. For a multi story building the minimum footprint used for stairs might be achieved with completely separate stairwells.

tl;dr: I think the three staircase designs presented would come out pretty similar in terms of space used because "Londo Style" separated staircases can actually be built at that 30-50 degree angle (modern building codes for commercial stairways are closer to 30, older stairs are often steeper but this is definitely a "building codes are written in blood" kind of area) whereas the "space saving" designs are constrained by treads needing to be deep enough for the largest species using them to stand on it without half their foot hanging off the end while also having a riser height that the smallest species can use, which forces a shallower angle than would otherwise be possible, and may not be workable if the difference in leg length between largest and smallest users is too big. They might have a use case in outdoor stairs that need to follow natural slopes that are shallow enough for them but too steep for a sloped path, though.

How equal can a society be if some fundamentals are unusable by a third of the population? You can learn a lot about a world by looking at the little details, especially in furry settings!

[onehundredelevven]

What about a jealous Mr.Scarletella , Mr.crawling or Mr.Gap or anyone who you like head canons I think it would be very interesting NDIDNDJSNJSJS I live for any Homicipher content ahhhh we need more of it!!

I just need more brain rot content please （ΦωΦ）

Thank you!

Also hope your doing well sorry i requested another one but forgot to add thank you (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

Her u go bestie~(this is literally from last year omg)

Jealousy?

contains: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletta, Mr. Silvair, and Mr. Chopped

☆☆☆

Mr. Crawling

You were sitting on the floor, chatting with Mr. Silvair about something about medical stuff, but Mr. Crawling wasn’t having it. He kept glancing over at the two of you, his body twitching every time Silvair's attention turned toward you.

His head tilted in confusion, but his voice came out low and grumbling. “Me not like... you talk too much. You... talk with me?”

You blinked, surprised by his sudden pout. “What’s wrong, Crawling? You’re always by my side.”

“Me... don’t like see you with others,” he grumbled, inching closer and leaning against you. His hands brushed against your arm, trying to pull your attention back to him.

“You're still my number one, Crawling,” you said gently, rubbing his head.

He didn’t say much after that, but his clinginess spoke volumes. He stayed close, his body pressed against yours, as if reminding you that he didn’t want to share you with anyone else.

---

Mr. Scarletella

Mr. Scarletella stood in the shadows, watching as you chatted with another figure in the room. His gaze was sharp, narrowed, and full of something dangerous.

“You like... others more?” he asked, stepping forward with a dangerous edge to his voice.

You turned to face him, blinking in surprise. “What do you mean? I’m just talking to—”

His intense gaze locked onto the person you were speaking to. “Not like,” he murmured, his fingers twitching at his side. “You belong to me. Not them.”

The words weren’t angry, but there was a possessiveness behind them that sent a chill down your spine.

“You... feel jealous?” you asked, teasing lightly, though his reaction caught you off guard.

“Not jealous,” he corrected quickly, though there was a slight edge to his voice. “Just... mine.”

You couldn’t help but smile. "Well, I’m yours then."

He nodded once, satisfied, stepping closer and pulling you into his personal space. “Good.”

---

Mr. Silvair

Mr. Silvair was used to keeping his emotions under control. But as he watched you laughing with Mr. Chopped, a rare flicker of irritation crossed his usually calm expression.

He cleared his throat loudly, but neither of you seemed to notice.

"Silvair?" you called, tilting your head in confusion as he walked over.

His demeanor was calm, but his voice remained composed. "You... laugh with others," he said, though it came out more as a statement than a question.

“Is there a problem?” you teased, grinning at him.

He didn’t immediately answer, but you noticed his posture was a little stiffer than usual. He crossed his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Mr. Chopped.

"...Nothing," he muttered, before his demeanor softened.

You couldn’t help but laugh, but his possessive nature was unmistakable. It was the first time you’d seen him act so... human.

---

Mr. Chopped

You were having a casual chat with Mr. Crawling when Mr. Chopped suddenly appeared on the table, his head swiveling back and forth between you two.

“What’s going on here? Me not like!” He huffed, his voice bright but with a noticeable pout.

“M-Mr. Chopped? What’s wrong?” you asked, trying not to laugh at how he was practically vibrating with energy.

“Me... feel left out! You talk too much with him!” he complained, puffing his cheeks.

You chuckled and scooped him up, holding him close. “Aw, you’re not left out. You’re always with me.”

“But... but...” His head twirled as he stared at Machete, who just chuckled quietly at the scene. “I want attention too! Me need... hair time!”

You laughed, and sure enough, Mr. Chopped let you comb his hair with a little more gusto than usual, his earlier jealousy forgotten in favor of your full attention.

[h00d-tr4sh]

The tuplar crew with an flexible/ gymnastics s/o

[This can be SFW or NSFW 🔞]

Crawl on me, sink into me

☂ ---- 『Pairings ^_^ Tulpar crew x f!reader!』

Warnings: smut and fluff idk vro

a/n: first request I'm bouta buss down

Minors dni!

Curly:

Sfw first!!

He's mesmerized yet somewhat scared your gonna hurt yourself ykwim?

"how the fuck did you do that."

Congratulate yourself, you managed to get a cuss word out of the completely vanilla golden retriever guy.

Gymnastics makes me crack 24/7, so it's basically like being a human glow stick. Walk up to him and pop ur back, then ur fingers, then your elbows, then your neck. He genuinely thinks your dying

Nsfw

He's definitely gentle, but loves to see what positions you can get your body in.

Doesn't want you to hurt yourself, so he won't let you go too far with it, but he'll definitely manhandle you a bit.

"fuck--cant help myself when your doing stuff like that."

Daisuke:

Sfw first!!

Dudes genuinely mesmerized by what you can do

Again, like Curly, won't want you to hurt yourself, but is genuinely just sat there agape watching you.

"do you not have a spinal cord?" "What the fuck??"

Nsfw

More excited than Curly, definitely more open with everything.

He's young, and I headcannon hes probably a virgin or inexperienced. He's probably just over here trying to see what positions you can get into.

The most mind-blowing sex ever. Get ready for 8 rounds, all different positions, and to explore absolutely everything you can explore.

Jimbob machine:

Gruff, and broody, won't act too surprised about it. Secretly he's genuinely confused, though he wouldn't show it at all.

Nsfw

Bros rough with it?

Flipping you into positions, and manhandling the fuck out of you. Fucking you probably into half an inch of your life :3

Anya bobanya:

She's a nurse, so I mean, if you get hurt or anything she'll always be there to help you out

Is curious about what you can do, will be there for any tournaments or anything, but then again doesn't want you to push yourself or anything. Poor girl's just worried.

Nsfw

She'll love it, but won't push you to do anything you're uncomfortable with.

She won't be comfortable with some of it, but the flexibility is definitely a plus when it comes to sex life

Genuinely scissor queens

I can't write for Swansea I'll genuinely shit myself laughing I'm sorry

[keferon]

“We’ll see Earth again.” Swerve says it not because he knows for certain, but because he has to believe it.

———————————————

“You don’t have to, you know…”. Jazz gestures vaguely at Swerve’s holoform as he takes a seat next to Jazz on the edge of the bar.

“I know. But it just feels natural, sometimes.” Swerve doesn’t know how to explain it. That he knows his holoform better than his own frame some days. And if he just walked around like this on the ship, he’d get stares. But with Jazz….

“I know what you mean.” Jazz laughs. “Piloting my mech always felt natural. And then I ended up living out of it for a while after my trip through space. Spent so long inside that wiring and metal and electrical signals felt more like me than flesh and blood. Once Prowl found out…took me a while to remember how to be human outside my mech. I still miss it sometimes.”

Jazz is gazes off at a projection against the far wall. Swerve looks closer and recognizes it as a star map of the galaxies. And he wonders if Jazz is just talking about mechs anymore.

“Hard to believe Earth is just one of those tiny dots,” Jazz says softly. “It’s hard to believe any of it still sometimes. That I’m actually out here, on an actual spaceship, with aliens that aren’t just trying to kill us all. With Prowl. With you. I mean, what are the chances?”

What are the chances indeed, Swerve thinks. That of all the ships he just happened to end up on the same one as Jazz and Prowl. But he’s glad in a way. Because otherwise — otherwise he might never have realized that his dreams, his fantasies were anything more than that.

“I’m actually glad, in a way,” Jazz says, echoing Swerve’s own thoughts. “Glad to know we’re not alone in this. Glad to get to know you — the whole you. Glad to have met Prowl. But — I miss Earth, miss home.”

“I miss Earth too,” Swerve says. “A lot. Sometimes…sometimes when I think about the life I lived there it feels more alive, more like I was living then anything I can remember before my accident.”

Swerve had friends, had a job, had hobbies. Had people, including Jazz, — people who were a part of his life and whose lives he was a part of. People who would notice his absence, who would miss his presence. (People who did notice him go missing. Swerve’s seen the status next to his own name in mecha logs. Him and Jazz.)

“We’ll see Earth again.” Swerve says it not because he knows for certain, but because he has to believe it. He needs to see it. Needs to get back.

Because he knows what he’s not telling Jazz. That things back on Earth are not nearly as good as they are here. That things are falling apart. But he has to believe that it’s not too late. That they can still help, if only they can get there. If only they can do something.

“You think so?” Jazz looks directly at Swerve, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“I do,” Swerve says. “Because while you were doing whatever pilot training it is that they have you do to go into space, you know what we were doing? There was a whole team of us behind you — mechanics and engineers — training to support the mission. What to do if things went right. What to do if they went wrong. How to make sure we brought you home. We looked everywhere for you.”

Computations of oxygen supplies, food, water, potential mech damage. All to try and determine the likely survival windows in space. The long days and longer nights and dwindling hopes as the search had stretched on. The memory gives Swerve pause for the briefest moment. But none of their computations could ever have accounted for all the complexities of reality.

“And I found you,” Swerve says, brightening slightly.

“We found Earth.” He points vaguely at the projection. “That’s already two thirds of the way there!”

Swerve grins broadly.

“I can’t tell you how good it is to have a friend like you here.” Jazz throws an arm over Swerves shoulder as he says it. “Next stop, Earth.”

HELP the fact that they both miss Earth despite Jazz being a human and Swerve being an alien is kind of poetic and I’m SO here for it

[hrnngsoup]

Oh maaan. Oh man this is anti-honey vegan levels of ignorant. Look yeah it's gonna be unpopular opinions, and I am NOT saying there are no abusive-towards-dogs cops out there, but no, k9 forces are not generally abusive.

Here's some facts:

K9 units serve much more jobs than just take-downs. Ever had a recently missing kid? A good police force will call on a k9 unit, which you can give them a piece of fabric or toy to sniff, and then that good doggo will track that kid down. Many, MANY children, seniors, and other people who are lost with mental disabilities have been sucessfully found this way.

Another job they do? Drug sniffing. And yes, I know there have been nasty rumours about cops just training a dog to Mark on a person's bag on command, but besides the trash cops that exist, the drug sniffing training is ACTUALLY very specific and fun for the dogs. I've seen a lot of people over at twitter say they are good at fact checking, feel free to fact check what I just said with unbiased sources.

Most K9's are not just murked when they are retired. This was another rumour. A lot of them are retire with their owners, who form deep personal bonds with them, or are adopted out, in the case of the officer not being able to take care of them... like when the officer has died. The only exceptions are when k9's unfortunately develop the common health problems that german shepherds as a breed are privy to, and their quality of life massively decreases.

K9's are not just "stored" at a precinct in crates or something. They go home with their officers most of the time with only a few job-related exceptions.

It's not actually true that every person who gets taken down by a canine are maimed. Most of the time, it's "hold/release", which still needs stitches, but not even near a maim. but I guess these very common events aren't really covered in media much because they are less sensational....

Calling k9 units on anyone who is not actively fleeing a crime and/or armed is not a thing that happens often. That's a huge waste of money, time, and what, do you think they start off arrests with a k9 unit? No! (Exceptions: when someone has felonies on their record, has been known to be aggressive in past arrests/chases, or have commited grand theft auto)

While this one is only anecdotal, I have never with my own two eyes seen a unit abuse their dog. I have seen many of them baby talk the shit out of their doggos or give them probably too many treats, and well, if you want to see that, I recommend police cam vids. One of my relatives which was a k9 unit absolutely adored her k9, Duke, and she had him for many years after they retired- and Duke was happy and healthy until he passed naturally. A lot of people don't realize that if a k9 unit abused or hurt their dogs, and the other cops saw.... they would be considered the shit under their shoe for the whole precinct.

Now let's talk about why they're necessary in a healthy police force

Ever hear of the terms meth heads, crackheads, etc? These groups of people, if they decide to do crime, are INCREDIBLY dangerous. Drugs of a certain hardcore variety LITERALLY change your brain composition. These are the kind of people that can, and will, run out naked with two steak knives and try to stab anyone around them "because they looked at me funny"... if they are even capable of reason and clear speech in a drug-induced rage. Many do not even feel pain at this stage. There are two ways to stop someone in this state. Gunfire. Or a k9 unit. The good thing about using a k9 is that they are fast, much faster than humans- and that helps reduce the amount of injuries and deaths that occur when something goes wrong.

Humans are instinctually wired to be afraid of dogs. A lot of violence from... really, anyone, is severely diminished when even the threat of a k9 unit being called happens, and when you're facing someone who's weilding a machete, that fricking means something.

Look. I can understand being incensed at anyone who does treat their dogs badly. I am too. But you have to inform yourself on what the facts are, and everything I have said is factual unless someone can prove me wrong which, okay, then i will retract what someone proved me wrong about.

Banning a very important, very life-saving part of a healthy police force is a BAD idea. Note i said healthy police force... there are a lot of UNHEALTHY, CORRUPT police forces that needs from the bottom up reform.

All banning k9 units will do is increase crime and the collateral damage from it, make us lose non-take down services they provide which is VERY important to missing persons cases... and probably increase the amount of german shepherds put down in shelters, ultimately doing much more harm than good.

All k9 dogs are abused hands down if you post any pro k9 stuff on my dash you’re unfollowed I don’t care if we’ve been mutuals for years, you can claim to be anti-cop or a leftist or whatever but if you post k9 dogs with like “a good doggo! A good boy!” fuck off, if I lose followers over this then good riddance

[kedreeva]

i have an odd animal husbandry question you seem like you might know the answer to, your comment about stan reminded me - ive been thinking about getting into backyard chickens for a couple years and the thing that makes me hesitate most is hard culling. im confident in my ability to put down an animal thats sick, or infirm, or for food, but for like, temperament? or for poor egg layers? just sticks on me for some reason. i think it would feel like telling them theyre not a good enough chicken for me. how to you process this part of animal husbandry?

This will be a little long, so bear with me.

If you want to keep use animals (animals bred for a purpose, to be used for a purpose instead of kept as a companion), you gotta get good with the idea that they are here for you under the agreement that you will only keep them as long as you need to. When you take them on, you are agreeing that you will release them to whatever their next life holds for them as soon as you do not need (or they've completed) their service. Maybe for some people that's just release to the biological cycle of life, for others maybe there's an eternal rest, for others maybe it's reincarnation. For soft culling that's just moving to the next household. Whatever it is, you are allowing them to pass to it in as humane a way as you can, and ultimately it is the single greatest kindness and gratitude you can show to them, to give them proper care while they are here and allow them to end with little to no pain- something animals outside of our care rarely get. You are thanking them for their service, and letting them go. Worth does not even begin to factor into it.

It is not easy to take a life. It is NEVER easy, regardless of reason, regardless of excuse, regardless of anything. It is ALWAYS heavy, and it will always hurt you. And it should. I am grateful for the weight of taking a life, because it reminds me that it is serious, and reminds me to take the production of life seriously, because at some point any life I cause to come into existence via breeding animals will have to end.

On top of that, some things ARE heath related that do not seem health related. Aggression in domestic animals IS A HEALTH ISSUE. A cock is aggressive because he is stressed about intruders, containment, mating threats, resource guarding, etc. Even with the best of care this can be true, and unfortunately for you both, this means the animal is not suited for domestic keeping. The same goes for animals (in any stripe of use, but particularly private care) that display repetitive stress behaviors from normal, proper captive care (for example, mice that are food chewing are stressed and should be culled from lines where possible because they are not having a good time). You are doing them a disservice to keep them in a stressful situation you cannot change because of their biology. It has nothing to do with not being good enough for you, and everything to do with producing/keeping animals that do not experience that stress in captive care and releasing the rest from duty because they will not be okay in any captive care.

For some issues (poor egg laying, for example) you CAN pet-home culls instead of hard culling. It's harder to do, you will spend time finding people who just want pets that don't intend to breed or don't care, but it can be done. However!! Is the bird just slow at producing eggs because her genetics say that's how fast eggs get produced, or is she producing slowly because there's a health problem that isn't immediately evident? Is her ovary damaged, is her reproductive tract infected, does she have a disorder that prevents her from processing food correctly so she can't get what she needs to produce eggs as fast as normal? Are you setting the bird up for failure (and someone else for heartbreak/money troubles) sending them to a pet home? Is it something which could lead to pain/suffering down the road if she's allowed to continue? Hard to say without spending a lot of money. Are you willing to risk your reputation, if someone takes a surprise illness/genetic issue down the road badly ("Oh THAT breeder sold me a sick/unhealthy bird/bird with bad genetics"), and compromise your ability to find homes for healthy birds down the road?

You are okay with culling a bird for food- there's nothing that says you cannot eat the bad temperaments, the poor egg layers, the one with genetic issues, and so on. And if you can tell early enough that you, personally, can't make use of the meat, there are plenty of folks with other animals that would LOVE feed for those animals. Take yourself down to a local reptile expo, grab the business cards for a few people who have big snake babies (retics, burmese, anaconda, redtail boa, even BP) that say they'd be interested in taking culls, OR look up local bird of prey rescues in your area (or reptile rescues or big cat rescues if there are any) and ask if they'd be interested in culls. There is ALWAYS someone that can use what you can't/won't. You may have to jump through some hoops to donate to some kinds of rescues (health testing for example), but it's an option you can look into if you want to combat the feelings you're talking about.

As a last note- and I am saying this gently and holding your face in both hands: do not anthropomorphize animals in reality.

In YOUR eyes, you are culling them an illness or an injury or for food or for temperament or for poor quality or or or---- it does not matter to the animal why you are culling them. A death is a death, to them. They are here, and then a thing happens, and they are no longer. They do not understand life or death or afterlife or reincarnation or that they are here for a purpose or not a purpose or literally anything you as a human might impose upon them in your head. They live while they are alive, and then they are not. They do not "want to live" in the "avoid death" sense because they do not necessarily understand "death" as a future concept. Instincts that have worked well to preserve life have been encoded in their DNA to one degree or another, they can and do respond to avoid pain, but with little exception (like... maybe elephants and dolphins and a crows and a few others), it's unlikely that they understand the connection between doing those things and being alive/avoiding death.

So while TO YOU it may feel like telling the bird they are not good enough, and TO ME it feels like allowing the bird to move on in peace... the bird doesn't know either way, and honestly the reason hardly matters. It is alive in the present, and one way or another it will not be alive someday, and you are responsible for making sure that the one way under your control is so peaceful or quick that the bird hardly knows it is no longer alive. The bird doesn't care about (and cannot understand) the why of their death, any more than they understand their pain/stress and how it relates medical assistance; it's why animals often freak out, refuse meds, etc. They don't hate the vet or the car or the carrier or anything- they just simply don't understand human stuff and react according to instincts/what they do understand. If you treat an animal like the animal it IS rather than the person you imagine it to be, you will find yourself with a lot better relationship with them during life, and be able to frame their passing a bit better later on.

[notlhecxzsa]

I'd Marry You With Paper Rings - N.R

Summary: Natasha is many things but a person who knows comfort and care. But, with you, why does it come off naturally? As if, all her life, it is what she was trained to do—to you and only for you. She could feel it on the way home and her friends surely could hear it in the silence, but things happened. Would she still be the greatest warrior in this game of terror and save you or...?

Author's Note: Ahhhh, finally, here we are! 5k words, not proofread (im really sorryyy, i wanted to give it to you quickly since you guys have been bombarding me ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ)

Warnings: simp!natasha, soft!natasha, tooth rotting fluff, happy y/n=happy natasha, ahhh Beefy!natasha, literally the calm before the storm, Y/n having some adult... thoughts about Natasha's hands

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3rd Person's POV:

Natasha was never the one to show sympathy, maybe for her friends who treated her more like a family than her own. They are the boundary between Natasha's humanity and Natasha's out of this world characteristics of a human.

Not that Natasha would care enough if millions of people would see her as a monster—hell she doesn't even care enough about the downfall of hundreds of companies before hers while she makes it to the top.

But, even with all that, it doesn't mean that Natasha doesn't tend to show her once in a blue moon kindness. Not 'show' show, as it is often done through the dark, in the silence of her name being labeled as anonymous. Doing things like donating half of a million to different charities—giving extra when it is Christmas.

Even so, Natasha couldn't careless to hear how grateful those people are for her, already being contented when Maria would say that it was already given.

All that only for her to show such care for a girl she was forced to marry—the same girl that caught something inside her she didn't know existed. How could she? When all she's ever known is how to hold a gun? How to fight raw with her trembling body until she passed a test that no teenager should got through? How to not prioritize how she feels?

She's grown to believe that her calloused hands are never meant to hold someone so dearly. For her mouth that ended life after life to never speak with such care and mold with gentleness. For her mind that only craved for revenge and thought of unholy things to and never those comforting words that left her mouth when she spoke to you.

Never believed that her heart could ever feel things that she felt for you.

"Do you want some juice to go with that?" She analyzed you carefully, as if you would break even with just a wrong glare of a pair of eyes.

She reminded herself to make up those words that left her mouth with a certain gentleness—witnessing how you would tensed visibly when she or Maria would speak out of nowhere, especially after what happened 3 days ago.

"N-no... water's good." You spoke quietly, looking at her briefly before you focused on the food again.

Natasha stood up, going to the fridge to get the orange juice that she often sees you pouring yourself with before eating. Also pouring herself one, she brought those two tall glasses on the table, offering you a small smile that she seemed to be wearing oh so often whenever you would look at her.

"T-thank you..." She watched as a certain light sparked in your eyes, almost the same one she found herself yearning to get a glimpse of again.

Clearing her throat, Natasha was close to feeling embarrassed with how long she set her gaze on you, turning back on her food once again. "Maria bought some fresh fruits earlier, you can just get some in the fridge if you would want." She said before taking a bite of the rotisserie chicken you made.

Even with all your energy seemed to be wiped off of the face of the earth, you still managed to give her the best of your cooking and never failed to make her stomach grumbled in happiness. Natasha could swear that all the foods you make is enough to make her work non stop without being tired, but she would never tell anyone that.

Even if the foods you make are against her diet and workout routine.

But, then again, she would never ever tell a soul about that.

Natasha saw in her peripheral vision how you only nodded, a very small tight lip smile—almost invisible, stretch its way out of your face, but still, Natasha could clearly see that.

Inhaling a bunch of air quietly, Natasha shook her thoughts away and decided to eat in silence once again. "Mr. Clint and the others... when will they come here?" Natasha heard you asked quietly.

"Oh... I don't know..." Natasha answered, gazing up to your face only to notice how you shoulder deflated. "It's been so busy in the company, but I'm sure they'll come visit soon." She almost cringed with how she rushed to add that answer, but felt a wave of contentment when she saw you nodded.

Having small conversations with Natasha seemed to become easier these past few days, and you are more than happier to entertain it while it lasts. Pushing aside your shyness, taking advantage of every seconds talking with her.

Silence once again covered the atmosphere before she heard you clear your throat and started to talk. "W-when are we getting married?" A question that never left your mind ever since you got there, having no idea what no idea what will even happen.

Or how things will happen. It felt right to ask that—to talk to Natasha about the barely spoken matrimony that will be happening to the both of you, or what you thought to be happening.

Natasha stopped moving, it felt as if her blood also stopped flowing. What Yelena said came rushing inside her head, feelings and emotions came clashing with each other in just a mere split of a second.

You didn't know. You never knew.

"Uh..." Natasha started speaking, not wanting her silence to bring more questions inside your naive mind. Remembering how she sometimes treated you so low just because of the forced marriage that came upon her door. You are more of the victim than she was in this. "My parents... and yours, are still working on it." She offered you a glance, not knowing if she's trying to reassure herself you're believing her.

You slowly nodded, looking at her in the eyes. "Hmm, okay... we just... haven't really talked about it... and I- I mean, I..." You slowly looked down, as if it makes you feel embarrassed to admit what you were about to say. "I just wanted to... uhm, know more..." Looking at her through your eyelashes, the same look that makes Natasha's heart wince with something she would never dare to name what.

Natasha nodded, not knowing anymore what to say. She is a woman full of words, knowledge and everything.

Shame on her parents for giving her the only person who could bring her to her knees, but that would be something that Natasha will never let herself admit, even to herself.

She just knows that she will think of something about the case of your marriage. Something that doesn't involve disappointing you more than you might already have.

Thinking of an escape, she inhaled, remembering the question she wanted to ask ever since she watched you too long while you were gazing out in the balcony. "Would you like to get out of here?" Your gaze snapped up at her, your eyebrows raised in an adorable manner—well, Natasha thought so.

"Go...? Out?" You asked as if in disbelief.

You've never be out of this huge penthouse ever since you step a foot in here—not like you weren't also caged back in Hawaii.

"Yeah..." Natasha answered, cutting herself a piece of the chicken as if she just asked something casual. For othe first time, she was gonna take you out. Not like how she felt when she saw you longingly look out in the window. "You know... mall? or, wherever you want to go."

It made you feel giddy, having to finaly roam the place you only gaze at on the big windows and spacious balcony that Natasha has inside the penthouse. "Yes." Natasha could hear the visible high pitched tone in your voice, making her heart swell hearing a certain joy in your voice.

Looking into your eyes, you're surprised to see how a small smile could reach her green eyes. "Would you like to go out today?" Your mouth was agaped, looking at the clock.

"N-now?" You asked, hesitating. As if you're not believing what she was saying.

"Yeah, I mean, if you're in the mood. But, if you're not, I'm sure I can settle my busy schedule for you." Oh how she would do anything to spend time with you—what she would do to give you everything.

Perking up, you dismissed her offer, your hands clasping together in front of you as if you're pleading to her. "No!" Her small smile slowly stretched widely. "We can go now, Natty!" If you were both in a cartoon show now, the way her ears perked up at the nickname would be visble, almost as visble as the flush spreading from her neck up to her cheeks.

You didn't seem to mind the adorable nickname you've just given her, she thought. So, she kept it behind her thoughts, noting to deal with it later—when you're out of sight.

"Are you sure?" She said, slowly taking a bit of the food, as if it was to hide her smirk.

You head shook up and down, Natasha couls see how tight you're gripping the utensils beside your plate like a chile. How you're trying to suppress a huge smile she wished she could force out of you. "Yes... yes, Natty."

God, shame on her parents for giving her the only person who could bring her to her knees—who could make her do impossible things.

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Natasha glanced at the back of your head for the nth time, only to avert her gaze on the road. Not sure if it was because of the fear of getting caught or the new rule she made earlier. Always keep you safe.

"There's a park near at the 2nd stoplight ahead..." She started, her pointed gaze staying on the road but she could see how you turned to look at her. Did she forced herself not to gaze back into your awaiting eyes that sparkles as if she held the stars in the sky? "But, there's also a Mall a few blocks away from it with an amusement park behind it. Many options are laid out everywhere, where would you like to go?"

As she explained, her tone was surprisingly soft. Not the one she would use to her people—not even the one she would use to her friends and especially to her family.

"I-I don't... Where do you want to go?" She heard you say, as if scared to make a decision. A decision that's big. There was a certain edge in your tone, but she could hear it from the tip of your tounge.

She had seen your eyes that big ferris wheel from her balcony, always facing the way towards it as if your biggest wish is too touch it from miles away.

She turned to look you in the eyes, taking advantage of the red lights stopping the motions of the flowing cars. Your hair was down, a spectacle hanging on the arch of your nose, since you were having a headache earlier as you said, saying it just might be your visionary problems, she watched as you put it on.

"You choose, detka. I promise, I'm fine with wherever you want to go, yeah?" She said ever so gently before reaching out to pat your head, as if you were some child.

Natasha is good with so many things, really, but not when it comes to physical touch. Only knowing how to knock out people with a punch and kill with a gun.

She watched as you look down and fumbled the ends of your blue dress, that fits oh so perfectly well with your body, hugging all its curve. It took her all the will power she has to not check you out and make it weird with hwo long she was staring earlier. Only if you knew what you do to her.

She averted her gaze when her eyes catch a couple of faint bruises that seems to be healing already. It kept her awake at night wondering what your body has been through for the bruises to stay for that long.

She was surprisingly happy when she saw you wore a dress, even with the cardigan on top that you forgot to wear earlier, giving her a chance to see you. Clearly, Natasha would rather for you to take it off, but she found herself prioritizing you as her heart ached seeing you fumble the cardigan, fastening it around you.

Whatever you're comfortable with. She thought.

She caught herself staring at your lips a little too long before averting her eyes and inahling deeply, making sure she's quiet while doing so.

"How about we go to the park first? After that, we can eat at the mall and if you would like to buy something, we can do that also?" She caught in her peripheral vision how you snapped your head towards her, making her turn to you once again, hoping for time to slow down. "Then after that, we can go around the amusement park and do whatever you want?" She watched as you took in everything she said, with that same expression you always wear whenever she's talking.

The same one that makes Natasha feel so seen... and heard.

She's a woman of her words, giving people no choice but to listen, obey and watch everything that she does. But with you, it feels different.

You nodded, giving her a small shy smile before settling your hands on your lap. "I'd like that."

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Y/n's POV:

Clutching the cardigan in one hand, I hold the melting ice cream in the other that Natalia had bought me. It made me laugh thinking that she might've been reading my mind since I was just looking at the ice cream truck, with so much longingness to get a taste and she insisted on buying the both of us.

We walked side by side, letting her lead me as my eyes trailed everywhere. My heart jumps in happiness at every person I see, every structure that fascinates me, and every joyful moment I witness.

This scenery can't be seen from the balcony at the penthouse—god, how much I wish I could see it from there.

"Here..." Turning to look at her, I saw her wiping the bench with her bare hands for any invisible dirt before standing up straight. "Sit. We could see everything from here and so your feet won't get tired also." She explained, wiping her hand from the back of her pants.

I smiled, suddenly feeling giddy for some reason. She waited until I was seated, taking a seat beside me, unconsciously making me get a whiff of her expensive perfume that I grew accustomed to. I could smell it everywhere in the penthouse, making it weirdly feel more... comfortable.

"Thank you, Natalia." I mumbled, looking at her even though she just kept her gaze towards the scenery in front of us, only nodding as she ate her ice cream that is almost finished already. I haven't even eaten mine halfway!

I rummage through my small sling bag, taking out a hand sanitizer and bumping it to her biceps that are finding inside a black polo that she paired with some slacks. "Your hands are dirty, you shouldn't have wiped the seat." I murmured, catching her gaze for a moment before taking the sanitizer.

I took her ice cream so she could use both of her hands. "Oh, thanks." I heard her say almost inaudibly and she went on to sanitize her hands. "You could've gotten dirt on your dress, detka. It's light." She said, and I only shrugged, nodding as I watched her hands while licking the ice cream.

Even her hands looked so expensive. I found myself staring at it for too long, feeling something I've never felt before. I bet it would be larger than mine. The veins around it are visible, but it didn't change how... cool I see it.

"You have beautiful hands, Natalia." I blurted out, offering her a small smile as I showed my adoration.

I caught a glimpse of her throat's movement of swallowing, as her gaze snapped to mind. She didn't smile but kept her lips in a tight line and nodded a little. She's the one who put the sanitizer back in my bag before taking her ice cream as I lick mine, catching her eyes sticking to the movements I made before looking back towards the scenery in front of us.

I did the same, minding how she cleared her throat a couple of times and the way her shoulder moved as she inhaled deeply.

"Do you often go here?" I asked, and her head moved to the side, not meeting my gaze but a sign that she listened to me and is paying attention.

I watched as she shook her head. "Hmm, no. It's my first time here. I just passed by the same road on the way here very often." Narrowing my eyes, I was surprised.

"What? Really?" If I lived here before, this would be my favorite place! There's a breathtaking fountain in the middle, trees surrounding the area that provides fresh air, food truck vendors littering almost everywhere. "I'd go here everyday, that's for sure." Giggling a little, I stared at my ice cream, looking at the certain side that is already melting and licking it all the way up, tilting my head to the side as I did so.

While doing that, I caught Natalia's gaze since her head is still facing sideways. Once again, her eyes stick to the movements I made before she looked away as if my gaze shot laser beams at her face.

Clearing her throat once again, she answered, "You like it that much?" She said, already finishing off the cone.

I nodded even though she couldn't see me with a smile playing on my face. "I love it." I said with a certain enthusiasm that I made sure she heard.

Her head moved in satisfaction. "Good."

"Why do you not come here?" I asked further, checking if I'm not annoying her with my questions.

"Hmm, not the... kind of places I like to go to." She confessed and I slowly nodded, jumping in to reply.

"We could go now if you would like." I offered, watching the side of her face.

I found myself almost insecure with how well defined her face is, her nose is so perfect and how her lashes seemed to be so well cut even though it's so full.

Her eyes met mine, only then did I realize how intently I was staring at her. My gaze fell down on her lips that looked as soft as the clouds to avoid her eyes. "No—I mean, it's fine... I'm enjoying it." She gave me a smile that warms my heart, it felt like I was hugging Tamtam.

Nodding with a content smile on my face, I caught how her gaze on me softened a little more before I looked back at the scenery and finished my ice cream.

I am loving this day more and more!

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I felt a hand circling around my waist as we walked inside the mall—a very huge one, and seemed to be so expensive. There are a lot of luxurious brands around that I have seen my Mom and Dad have back at home. There were a lot of guards more than usual when we entered the place, but it seems like it was normally like that as Natalia guided me inside.

There's so many people, but it's not crowded either. It doesn't look like the malls that Lucy would take me to. It could not be an ordinary mall.

"Would you like to buy something? Or should we eat first, hmm?" Turning to look back at Natalia who was looking around the area, only then did I realize how close she is to me, but I didn't make a big fuss about it—finding it rather... comforting.

"I-I..." Looking around, I caught a glimpse of restaurants that seemed to be very expensive too. Well dressed people going in and out, walking past us. "I don't know, Natty..." My attention is getting everything and capturing everything.

Not used to going out and being with so many people in foreign places is not something that felt comforting to me, though it is not bad either. Things just tend to... overwhelmed me.

"Okay, how about we eat first hmm? Then we can go buy whatever you want." I felt a hand tucking the strands of my hair behind my ear, out of my face making me look back at the owner of the same calloused hand.

She's smiling down at me, urging me to make a decision but doesn't make me feel pressured at the same time. "I'd like that, Natty." I said, grinning up at her as I clutched her hand.

"Okay then, come on, detka. I have a favorite restaurant around here, you'll like it." We started walking as she pulled her hand away from mine but kept her other hand around my waist, keeping me close.

"Oh, you go here a lot?" I asked, looking up at her.

Without returning my questioning gaze, she answered. "I own the Mall."

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"Ms. Romanoff."

"Good afternoon, Madam."

"Great to see you again, Ms. Romanoff."

Greetings after greetings from people from the restaurant and until now in a very big shopping area where she lead me. I smiled through it all even though I haven't heard them saying my name, noticing as Natalia did not even seem to acknowledge all of it, only nodding in the air.

"You pick whatever you want, alright?" She said to me, leaning down as her hands stayed put around my waist, as if whispering a secret. "Here..." She turned and pulled out a cart that was behind here.

"I-I..." Looking up at her hesitantly. "I don't think I need anything." It took her a moment to respond, looking at me with what seemed to be an amusement or surprised in her eyes.

It is true. I don't think I need anything. I have clothes. I brought a couple of my outside bags and shoes.

"It's..." She trailed off, making me look at her confusedly before she turned and motioned a person to come. They started talking, so I took the chance to wander my gaze around the floor, still staying in her hands that seemed to be glued around me.

There's so many... things in here. I feel like everything can be found here. Bags, alcohol, necessities, clothing, jewelry, I could also see a food shop at the end of a hall—just everything.

There were lots of workers too, buyers going in and out and around.

"...No, I want the best one. Give me the latest one you have..." I overheard Natalia talk but my attention quickly went to a stuffed toy that looked so cute! Oh god, now I missed my stuffies back at home.

I suddenly felt giddy and my hands itched to touch them. Thankfully, I brought my wallet with me and Natalia had insisted on paying for the earlier payments. Maybe I could buy her one too!

I turned to check on her if she's already done talking to the man, as soon as I heard them finishing up the conversation, tha man walked away and I quickly tugged on Natalias arm. "Natty." Her gaze immediately went down to meet mine, her eyebrows narrowing in question. "Can I go over there?" Turning as I point towards the pack of stuffies that comes in different kinds, sizes and colors. "Please?" I added as soon as I look back to her, she was already looking at me with her lips turning upwards on one side—smirking.

"I mean—if it's okay with you—but if not! We can just go and look at some other things." I immediately said, pulling away from her.

Quickly, in return, she took ahold of my hand again. "Come on, detka." The cart on one hand and mine on the other, she tugged me towards it. "Would you like to buy those?" She asked as soon as we got near towards it.

Forgetting to answer, my hand quickly reached out to take a hold of the biggest one in the center before leaning towards it to give it a squeeze. "It's so adorable! It's so fluffy!" I squealed, making sure that only Natalia and I could hear. "Natty!" Calling out as I turned to look at her, "Come! Take a look—hold it, it's so fluffy!" Catching the smile from her face fade quickly as she stood up straight, looking around as soon as I reached my hand out.

"I don't—I don't think..." She sounded hesitant as she continue to look around, as if checking if people are looking at us, but as soon as her gaze met mine, her shoulder relaxed a little and I watch as a small smile stretch its way out of her face.

Taking my hand in hers as she walked slowly, I tugged her until she's just as  close to the stuffy as I am. "Squeeze it! Like this." I hugged the huge brown teddy bear, only to be stopped by a voice.

"Sorry, Miss, but you're not allowed to do that." It was flat and seemed to be upset, looking back I saw one of the worker here. She was looking at me with one of her eyebrows raised as her gaze trailed up and down my figure.

Quickly pulling away, I bowed my head down. "Oh! I'm-" I was going to start apologizing but Natalia's booming cold voice cut me off.

"Go. We will be buying this, don't worry." The woman stammered as soon as Natalia walked in front of me, putting her hands around my shoulder.

The woman stammered the apologies that slipped her mouth, walking away quickly after finishing. "N-Natty, I-I'm really sorry, I didn't know-" With my heart almost beating its way out if my chest, thinking that Natalia might have been so disappointed at my actions.

"Hey, hey, stop with those. Touch everything you wanna touch, try everything you want, don't mind them, alright?" I coyly looked up to her, my hands wringing together in hesitation.

"Come on now, pick what else you might like, okay? I'll get this delivered in the penthouse, I don't think it will fit with us in the car." Her small laugh made my smile, before I frowned.

"Wait, how much is this?—" Again, I was cut off.

"Something you shouldn't be worried about, baby." With that, she called a new worker and started discussing about the delivery transaction, leaving me gazing at her.

"Now, what else would you like?"

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Natasha's POV:

"What- What is this?" Stopping my movements to start the car, I looked down to Y/n's outstretched hands with what seemed to be a wallet in her hold.

"You didn't let me pay..." She turned her head down, as if scared to meet my gaze. "I wanted to buy you those other stuffies earlier. Here, take my wallet and take how much it costs or... or... oh, also the other things that you got me from the store. It was so many and expensive, it might've cost you a lot." Looking back to me, she forced the wallet into my chest as I gaze at her in disbelief, smirking as I did so.

This girl never fails to surprise me. Chuckling, an idea came up to me.

Taking a hold of her arm, I took her wallet. "Those numbers comes back to my bank account every minute, darling. But... I'll take this." Her eyes widened a little as I put her pink wallet inside my blazer.

"Oh- a-all of it?" She asked, and I start the car.

"Yeah... all of it." Smiling at her as I pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, holding it on her lap.

The blush on her face didn't go unnoticed as I smiled, gazing towards the way.

"O-okay..." She settled down on her seat, both of her hands holding mine.

"Are you tired already, solnechnyy svet?" I could feel her confused gaze burning holes into the side of my head but I didn't bother explaining what the word meant just as she didn't bother asking what it is.

"Not really, no." I heard her say as she leaned back to the seat, gazing back at the road where the city lights laid out before us.

Looking towards her, catching a glimpse of how the lights reflected over her face. I could feel myself breaking a smile, which I let on, going back to looking at the road.

"Are you sure, detka?" I asked once more, my tone playful.

"I just want to rest already, but not yet sleepy." She explained, her voice soothing my ear.

"Hmmm." I hummed in acknowledgement. "Not yet sleepy. Alright, princess." I added, turning the wheel around the corner.

I felt a tug on my arm before she started speaking. "Can we watch a movie later?- I mean, only if-if you're not tired... but also if uhm- if you would like to. But, it's fine if you won't." Gazing back at her face, I reached my hand to caress the side of her face on the skin that I could reach for a few second, calming her down.

"We could do that, I'll cut more fruit for you for snack. I don't think Maria got us some popcorn." Before turning away, I catched how she perked up, making me smile unconsciously as my heart seemed to jump, which I ignored.

"That's awesome, Natty!" She said in delight. "I would really love that."

I have felt that killing people who deserved it is fulfilling. Watching companies and people burn down as they tried to pick up a fight with me brings the spark of happiness and contentment to my insides.

And, I never knew there will be much more greater things than that.

Now, I found out, only a voice is enough to explode such a thing inside me.

Enough to make me feel as if I'm on top of the world.

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Author's Note: Ahhhh, finally! I apologize for making you all wait, I did see the multiples of asks that have been sent to me, I didn't have enough energy to answer them, I'm really sorry. I was sick for days, but I'm doing a lot better now! I also got the next chapter on the works already, and I'm sorry in advance for it 乁⁠༼⁠☯⁠‿⁠☯⁠✿⁠༽⁠ㄏ

[mueritos]

this is last minute but if you're passionate about indigenous rights/sovereignty, please take a few minutes to send a submission against the Principles Treaty of Waitangi Bill that is up for vote in Aotearoa/New Zealand. Our Māori siblings are calling for our support in this moment, as this bill could effectively strip away the rights of all Māori. The NZ government is choosing to "revise" a treaty without the consent of the Māori, a treaty which has successfully maintained their sovereignty and rights for many decades.

You have until midnight January 7th 2025 Aotearoa time to send a submission!

This instagram post can explain the treaty and the current situation, as well as how to make a submission for comment.

This site will help you generate a submission.

This is the parliamentary site where you can submit or write your own submission! Scroll all the way to the bottom of the page to find the blue button to submit.

Here is an example of my submission as reference if you struggle to find your words (I believe the second link may have a script as well):

"To the Justice Select Committee,

Hello, My name is Matteo and I am a detribalized mixed indigenous Mexico living in the so-called United States. I am a staunch supporter of indigenous rights, sovereignty, and life. This treaty will actively and intentionally violate the rights of our Māori siblings in Aotearoa. This treaty is unjust and does not deserve to pass. The world is watching New Zealand, and I am one of the spectators who wishes to do his small part by writing this submission to show my disapproval for this treaty. Protect Māori rights, because as fellow humans on Aotearoa, you have a responsibility of honoring the humanity of all your inhabitants. Acknowledging and honoring the cultural differences and therefore different cultural rights that the Māori have is not in any way shadowing the rights of all other inhabitants in your country.  You must involve Māori knowledge and understanding into your government processes. The preservation of Māori life in government means the preservation of all life on Aotearoa.

Thank you."

Please do what you can! Let's all do our part to protect Te Tiriti!

[yet-the-world-spins-on]

Specifically and especially when order has started to become calcified!

(the readmore is to cut off me doing analysis and all to it)

Because -- well there's this show you may have heard of -- Leverage (2008). It's a show about con artists and thieves using their skills to get justice for ordinary men and women who were screwed over by rich men and women.

I have some issues with the morality of the 2008 Leverage tv show (especially the sexual ethics re premarital sex and remarriage prior to death)-- but in a very human way they've got a point with the quote “Justice or order. Someday you will have to make that choice.” Because *human* order will always end up succumbing to injustice. And that's where a certain amount of holy chaos comes in.

I was just at a bible study on Luke where we were discussing the Pharisees in the context of how easy it would be to fall into the trap they did, of "well we know what we're supposed to do and now you're saying there's a bunch of other stuff!?." And that's definitely important to keep in mind, but here's the other part of it: the Pharisees were forgetting what the rules were for.

One of my siblings put it this way: they were setting the rules against each other. e.g. you've got a rule to help poor people get food (go glean the fields, the farmers have to leave grain behind when they collect their harvest) and a rule to help the workers rest (no working on the Sabbath), and then you pit the rules against each other (no gleaning the fields on the Sabbath -- resting means going hungry). That's not right! Time for some chaos to get things back where they're supposed to be.

There are a lot more historical examples of this kind of thing, but I'm not really up for finding the sources right now so I'll leave it there.

Blogging isn’t about being likeable it’s about being chaotic