#I could not for the life of me structure it any better than this

[bucketsquid]

An Exhaustive List of Octarian F.A.Qs... and Answers!

There's one thing I've noticed about the Western Splatoon fandom.... and that's the weird amount of misconceptions, mistranslations, and misunderstandings about the Octarians.

For some reason it's often lore about them, surrounding them, or about their activities that always seems to have this happen. And so I want to help correct that! They're a super cool faction and I want to work on people hopefully understanding them better, while helping to correct misconceptions about them.

This will be long, there will be many citations and pictures both. Shoutout in particular to Inkipedia and inkfish translator rassicas, and the hard work of both, for this.

If there's any common lore misconceptions that I left out, please let me know! I'm including every single one I can think of, but I probably missed something somewhere.

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General Octarian Questions

Q. How are Octarians made? And are Octolings made the same way?

A. Octarians are made from severed Octoling tentacles (The Art of Splatoon + SplatoonBase) that are then somehow animated. Ones with more tentacles are "more intelligent"; they're sapient, either way.

Octolings are not, to our knowledge, created like this. The existence of SashiMori's Paul suggests that Octolings undergo the same life stages as Inklings do. (Similarly, Diss-Pair's Warabi has lore that mentions having parents.)

There is concept art in HaikaraWalker (the Octo Expansion artbook) that depicts Octolings mutating from Octarians... but it seems to just be concept art.

Q. Did Octavio brainwash the Octarians into obeying him? Wasn't music used to make them obey?

A. No, they were never brainwashed. Octavio uses his music to keep the Octarians in order and to keep their working rhythm correct-- like a military march. Inkipedia compares the Onward! jingle to "a call-and-response clapping rhythm used by teachers to grab students' attention in elementary schools". It does sound like that...

Now, if you want to say that Octarian propaganda is brainwashing, yes, that does exist.

Q. We've only ever seen feminine Octoling soldiers. What's with that?

A. The "rival Octolings" we meet in the story modes are all part of a special military unit that's female-only. They're referred to as "Takozonesu" in Japanese, a mashup of "tako" (octopus) and "amazons". Not every female Octoling can be one of these, and this group isn't completely representative of Octolings in the military.

There are male Octolings, they're just not part of this one group. (Fun fact, did you know that these Octolings are voiced by Callie and Marie's voice actors?)

Q. What's with the green sclera on Octarians?

A. There's no confirmed canon reasons. Octolings are very inconsistent about it, as well; Octavio has it and so do many enemy Octolings, but not other Octolings of note.

It could just be that the whites of their eyes are really reactive to stuff in general, since sanitized Octarians have black sclera. The green color could also just be something that happens with age while living in the domes.

Q. In Octo Expansion, Marina calls Octarian society "oppressive"-- how oppressive is it really?

A. This descriptor is actually inaccurate to the original Japanese, and was added in localization. (The Splatoon 2 Retranslation Project has a more accurate version over here! Thanks @shiverhohojiro for the link.) Octo Expansion has some notorious details that were added in localization, like Craig being more racist than usual or the omission of Commander Tartar's chatter about humankind.

That said. The domes are an isolationist* military-centric society, with emphasis on meritocracy. Octolings go into professions for things they're good at, not necessarily for what they want to do. Resources like electricity are limited, so they have to structure life around that detail, and strictness logically follows. The military doesn't tolerate slackers or nonsense, but talented people seem to do well for themselves based on how Marina's life was. Even so...

A lot of music, culture and artwork gets made down there! And they have things like beachside domes, bowling-themed domes, amusement park domes and even circuses... so it's not completely strict. There's a lot of room for silliness, it just needs to be in the right place.

So, to be totally fair? We don't know much. It's not perfect, but it's also not a hellish place to live if you wanted to stay. * They trade with Salmonids, but don't seem to do so with anyone else.

Q. Can they respawn? Are we killing them when we splat them?

A. Yes, they can use respawn technology in the same way Inklings and Octolings do. The only situation where an Octarian explicitly dies is, potentially, during the escape phases in Octo Expansion!

Q. Where/how did they make the domes?

A. Leftover human technology, meant to be similar "last resort shelters" made by humans. Think Alterna, but on a smaller fragmented scale.

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Questions about DJ Octavio

Q. Why do we always see him in octopus form? Can he shapeshift?

A. Octavio can't shapeshift because of an injury from the Great Turf War. He was able to do so before and during it, however!

Q. We know Octavio leads the Octarians, but what is he? A king, an emperor, or what?

A. He is a Japanese shogun, as referenced by his title in the first Splatoon: "DJ Takowasa shōgun". We don't know if he was appointed by an emperor, if he was part of the previous shogun's family, or if he just sort of... took up the mantle (haha octopus joke) after the Great Turf War.

Q. Did he brainwash Callie?

Based on the information we have... I am inclined to say, no, he didn't brainwash Callie.

Callie was in an extremely stressful period of her life, Octavio reached out to talk, and... we don't know what happened next. But the context feels like Callie might have joined willingly. In reference to the Hypnoshades, it's important to note that hypnosis as a concept is incredibly variable, with one argument made that "you cannot hypnotize an unwilling participant".

"But, didn't he say--"

He likes music puns. He's a DJ. It's supposed to be funny, why aren't you laughing? (What this line was in JP, I wonder...)

... But, I feel like the evidence stacks up. It suggests that Callie wasn't kidnapped or brainwashed or forced to join the Octarians. It was probably an escape from fame and loneliness for her-- the Hypnoshades helped her get away from that and just have a good time. But with Octavio being a guy to hold a grudge, nothing got to be that simple, and Callie was ultimately weaponized against the New Squidbeak Splatoon.

It remains very up-to-interpretation because we don't know, exactly, what happened behind the scenes. But Callie fosters zero ill will towards the Octarians, even after being rescued... and if fiery, outspoken Callie doesn't seem to be angry about it, what does that say about the matter?

Q. Why do all the tentacles piloting the Great Octoweapons have the same scar as him?

A. Because they're directly cloned from Octavio and are then made to pilot them, presumably because they have the muscle memory to operate as pilots. Octopuses have very complicated brains and neural centers that extend out into their arms.. so this cool bit of sci-fi checks out.

Q. How old is Octavio, really?

A. We don't know. But the narrative often parallels him with Craig Cuttlefish, who mentions in Octo Expansion that he's 130 years old. It would be fair to assume Octavio is also, at least, 130.

Q. Why is he so gigantic in Splatoon compared to the other games?

idk man, you tell me. I think this is much funnier and cooler than later games, though.

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Octo Expansion + Octarians Questions

Q. It's suggested that there were thousands of test subjects before Agent 8. Where did Kamabo Co. get all of these people?

A. Not only is it suggested that the Deepsea Metro may be accessible from other train lines, but it's also plausible that the subterranean networks that the Octarians use could be connected to the Metro. (Thank you for your hard work, Dodo.)

Test chambers always reminded me of Octarian domes, anyways, with the large amount of highly versatile space they have, and how it'd only make sense underground.

After all, Commander Tartar offered a glimpse of "the promised land", and that plays very specifically into the Octoling desire to see the surface world again. ("A utopia of light beyond your wildest dreams".) Its appearance as a telephone even seems to evoke an Octarian's face, which they're more willing to trust.

Q. Are sanitized Octarians a hivemind?

A. They're something like that, being hollow shells that have lost their memories and identities while submitting to a higher force. (This can be fixed, as we've learned.) They seem responsive to being assigned roles, what with Acht being made to produce music while other sanitized Octolings act as enemies in test chambers.

Commander Tartar's ideology revolves around a lot of "giving up one's individuality for the greater good" and "joining something bigger than yourself". To "eliminate the general idea of the individual" for "a harmonious world"... "becoming one with existence".

I think that carries a lot of interesting implications. You can draw your own conclusions, since there's no explicit canon answer.

Q. Was Acht sanitized willingly or unwillingly?

A. Public twitter info suggests that they were sanitized willingly, to "get rid of doubts and conflicts involving production" and to commit completely to music. But in Side Order, Acht says that it wasn't done willingly.

There's a lot of ways to interpret this. Maybe they wanted to at first, had a last-minute realization that they got tricked, and ultimately didn't want it. Maybe they committed completely and don't want to say it. Maybe social media is lying to us completely, in the same corporate word-twisting ways that Grizzco also uses, to make Kamabo Co. seem better. So... who knows?

Q. How does the Kamabo Corporation have clones of the Octo Canyon bosses?

A. Uh...

... I don't actually know. Clearly they have pretty advanced technology going on, so maybe they actually did manage to replicate and clone these bosses perfectly?

Or, maybe, it's just a psychological recreation of Agent 8's memories. Octo Expansion has a lot of stuff like that, so it feels pretty possible!

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Anyways, that's all... for now. I'll probably only edit in more sources and tweak details on this post, but it's completely possible that I might need to add more things later.

[ereborne]

Rejoice!  Rejoice!

I have been granted permission to do Periodic Experimental Restructuring of the Greater Database!

If I save my changes too soon I will have to redo everything coming from HR going to Payroll by hand by myself while sobbing, and if I save my changes too late IT will disarticulate all my limbs!  But within the ideal window, I can do anything I want!!

The actual literal word-for-word directive I received from the IT supervisor was “if you’re willing to put that on your head, then sure. go ham”.  I’m gonna go ham.

[back2bluesidex]

We Need Practice - JJK (18+)

A Sequel to Novice.

Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: Fluff, smut

Wordcount: 2.1k+

Summary: Jungkook wants you to ride him and you are too bad at that.

Warnings: Unprotected sex, messy cock riding, cumming all over body, they are down bad for each other, more fluff than I intended to have, confessions. NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

Masterlist | Patreon

“Don’t judge a book by its cover” 

You have heard this phrase for thousands of times in your entire lifetime but you have hardly had any chance of actually implying the same in your life. 

But then you met Jungkook and you understood how true that one sentence can be. 

Jeon Jungkook is the text-book definition of what those cliched bad-boys or fuckboys would look like. 

With a hand full of tattoos, silver rings dangling from piercings, impressively structured body and a small waist that could rival female models, he really looks like someone who would be fucking people and putting on a show out of it. 

And that is exactly what he does. 

Pornstar Jeon Jungkook is actually very notorious. 

But Jeon Jungkook as a person is a completely different story. 

After that one encounter at that porn movie set, he asked for your number and you complied with his request thinking of he could give you some of the best fucks of your life (not that you have had many fucks to brag about in the first place). 

If you are being honest, then you never expected him to be the sweetheart that he actually is. Since the day you two exchanged numbers, he never once asked if he could come over during god-forbidden hours of night. He never once asked for your nude pictures, neither did he ever force you to meet him. 

Rather he sends you funny dog videos, funny tik tok clips and asks you how was your day. And you can’t lie about the fact that your heart has already started acting strange, like it flutters everytime Jungkook’s name glows on your dark phone screen. 

It’s been more than a month since you have been chatting regularly and now you are getting a little impatient. 

As much as you appreciate his good-boy vibes, you would like to see him again, touch him again. 

So you do what you have been thinking of doing for more than a week now. 

“Sleeping?” you hit send, praying to the universe that he doesn’t find you a desperate bitch for what you are going to do. 

The clock reads 2:15 am already, and just then his reply arrives, “nah. Can’t sleep. What about you?” 

“Me too. Can’t sleep.” 

You take a deep breath before typing the next message, “do you wanna hangout?” 

Just when you are about to add “at my place” to complete your proposition, his reply hits your screen, “Send me your address. And wear something warm before I ask you to come out.” 

Wait. is he? Taking you out? 

Even though you were trying to ask for sex but this option feels even better to be honest. 

So you send him your address and he texts you that he will be there within 10 minutes. Wearing your gray padding, you wait for him to arrive at your place. 

Another positive point about Jeon Jungkook is that he is punctual. You might even call him a green flag because your phone dings with a “I am here” text right on 2:27 am. 

The scene that unfolds in front of you once you come out of your apartment, almost leaves your jaw hanging mid air. 

Jungkook has arrived with a bike, dressed in complete black. If you drooled a little at the sight then you would never admit that. 

Once he sees you awkwardly walking towards him, he takes off his helmet and welcomes you with one of his infamous bunny smiles. 

Your heart does a little flip inside your chest. 

His big doe eyes shine amid the darkness as if those are made of some priceless stone. At this moment it’s really tough to believe that he is a pornstar, who fucks people on camera to earn a living. 

“Hey. you look beautiful.” he greets you with a compliment when you come close to him. 

“You look even more handsome today.” you return his compliment genuinely. And at that, the tip of his ears turn red. 

“Ah thanks.” he replies shyly as he hands you a helmet. And gestures to you to mount his fancy bike. 

You take the helmet, slip that on your head and hold him by his shoulders to climb on his bike. 

Once you have settled, he revves the engine. 

“Hold me tightly” he says briefly before setting the bike in motion. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him just as he asked you to. 

The deserted road, the trees whooshing by, the buildings that look peaceful, everything feels so beautiful. 

Maybe it’s because of the hour or maybe it’s because you are with someone you like. 

The bike comes to a halt at a crossing and you slide up the windshield of your helmet, “where are we going?” 

He looks at you through the mirror, slides his own windshield up and gives you another sickening smile, but doesn’t say anything. 

5 more minutes later he parks the bike beside a huge lake. 

It looks like a secluded area. The lake is mostly hidden amid big trees and surrounded by fishing spots and some benches. 

Jungkook spreads his hand before you once you both are standing side by side. 

You take the cue and place your hand on his. He intertwines his fingers with yours and you start blushing. Thanks to the darkness, he wouldn’t be able to witness it. 

Once you are sitting on a bench, Jungkook starts, “I often come here to fish with my hyungs. This is my first time coming here with a woman.” 

When you look at him, you find him already staring at you, “Really? You look like the type to have a lot of girlfriends, you know?” 

“Is it because of my profession?” there is a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

So you press on his hand, which is still intertwined with yours and say, “no. not because of that. It’s just that you are generally very attractive and charming, Jungkook.” 

His face brightens up with a beautiful smile, “Too bad, I was about to say the same about you. But you snatched my words.” 

Your eyes widen at his compliment, “You find me attractive?” 

“Why? Why are you so surprised? Is it wrong to find someone attractive?” he giggles, staring deep into your eyes. 

“No. Th-that’s not what I meant. I mean, you know, you work with far more attractive women than me. So.. it’s kind of unlikely actually.” you fumble with your words. 

Jungkook chuckles at your explanation, “they are just colleagues, Y/N. Just like any other profession, we have a strict business relationship. And honestly, they are not even my type. You, on the other hand, fit perfectly into the category of women I would love to date.” 

Your eyes go even wider at his confession, “you.. You want to date me?” 

“If you let me. If you trust me despite the nature of my profession… I would love to make you mine.” Jungkook breathes slowly, his eyes drop down to your lips. 

Before you can voice your answer, your intrusive thoughts win and you reach up, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. 

“I think I would love it too.” 

And then you find yourself being pulled by the back of your neck as Jungkook crashes his lips on yours. It’s passionate, it’s overwhelming, it’s so beautiful and you never felt anything close to this. 

He licks the seam of your lower lip asking you to grant him permission, you let him inside your mouth. 

His tongue probes into your mouth testing each corner, you moan into his mouth. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you even closer. 

And then you feel one, two, three and then multiple drops of rain falling on you two. 

He detaches his lips from yours, “fuck. It’s raining.” 

“Let’s go back to my place.” you reply, trying to cover your heads with your hands. 

It’s been one of your bucket list wishes to ride a bike in the rain with the person you love and probably it’s going to come true today. 

You hold him tightly, pressing your chest on his back, not in a sexual, but in a loving manner. It starts raining heavily within a few minutes, and Jungkook quickens his speed to reach your destination as soon as possible. 

“Where are you going?” you place your question, seeing Jungkook putting on his helmet again after dropping in front of your apartment entrance. 

Even though the rain has turned into drizzle now, it still can be quite dangerous to drive a bike in this weather.  

“Home. Where else?” he adds a little sheepishly. 

“Jungkook, it’s still raining. I don’t think it’s any wiser to go home now, you’re drenched on top of that. Come inside. You can leave after the sunrise. If you want.. I mean.” you propose, he seems to think for a bit. 

“I don’t think I should go inside, Y/N.” Jungkook looks at the ground as if it’s more interesting than your face. 

“Why? What’s wrong?” you are truly confused now. 

“I might not be able to control myself…” his voice fades by the time he manages to end the sentence. 

“Did I say I want you to control?” you bite your lip, hoping that you don’t appear to be too desperate to him. 

His eyes go wider inside his bulky helmet. 

Jungkook pushes your naked body on the mattress. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you felt that day.” He groans while biting down on the skin of your neck. 

Your hands roam around the smooth skin of his back. Everytime you scratch his back, he moans a little. 

“So pretty, so delicate, so perfect for me.” Jungkook groans again. 

One of his hands reaches down, finding your clit within a moment. It’s as if he has studied the map of your body with earnest interest. 

Drawing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, he pulls out melodic moans out of your throat. 

“Jun-jungkook mmm..” you moan again. 

“Yes baby. Say my name again.” he urges you while entering your heat with his middle finger. His digit plunges inside you, making you see stars indoors. 

“Jungko- I’m close” you manage to voice somehow. And as soon as those words fly out of your mouth, he empties you. 

You look at him being dumbfounded. He smirks at you, knowing what exactly he has done. 

“I want you to cum on my cock. I am hard as hell, baby.” he confesses blatantly. 

Just when you are about to hold him, he flips you around. So, now you are sitting on his thighs.  

“I want you to ride me.” he adds a little breathlessly. And you almost choke on your own spit. 

“What? I-I don’t..” 

“I will guide you, Y/N.” he cuts you off. 

He helps you in taking off his slacks along with his underwear. Once he is naked, he holds you by your waist and lines your entrance along with his cock. 

“Are you ready?” he asks briefly. You nod in affirmation. And then he is sliding you down his length. 

At first his length is overwhelming but you adjust fast. 

“You should move now.” Jungkook’s voice is laced with lust, his eyes are hazy, making him look even more attractive than he already is. 

You honestly have no idea how to move. So you try to implement your visual experience. However, it’s tough once you start bouncing on his cock. Even though Jungkook is guiding you well, you are messy regardless. 

Your moves and Jungkook’s thrusts don’t match at all and the experience is nothing like that day. 

You really are a novice. 

Even though the friction is delicious for you, Jungkook’s expression tells that he is very underwhelmed. So, you start trying your best. With a few more bounces, you cum all over his cock, creaming it perfectly. 

As soon as you are done, Jungkook flips you around again. He slips out of you and starts playing himself. 

Even though you are in your post-orgasm haze, it’s embarrassing for you. You couldn’t help him finish and he had to take the charge himself. 

With a few more pumps, he cums all over your body. Starting from your face, to your stomach, everything gets creamed in his white hot seed. 

And it’s hot. He is hot. And you are pathetic. 

“I-I’m sorry. I know it was bad.” you manage to voice once Jungkook is done with himself. 

“You are not bad, baby. We just need more practice together.” and then he is sealing his lips with yours again. 

You certainly need more practice with him. 

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie

[gyuswhore]

Statistically Speaking...

part of the svt TA collab

kim mingyu x reader

est. word count: 10-15k [fat chance]

est. release date: 10th September

warnings: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [MINORS DNI], angst, statistics, more to be added in final post

synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.

‼️ JOIN THE TAGLIST by sending an ask or replying under this post. AGE INDICATORS ON YOUR BLOG ARE NECESSARY. ‼️

[a/n]: first look into the TA collab fic!!! @camandemstudios has been along time in the making and I cant wait for you all to read all of the fics in full. accept this piece offering from me and please let me know what you think of it so far!

masterlist

“Right. How can I help you?”

Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him. 

One look at the sparse format of the cover page, Mingyu blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page. 

“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell. 

“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he genuinely wanted to know. 

It stumps you regardless.

“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer. 

“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.

“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and wording were the problem.”

“You marked them?”

He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”

“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”

“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”

Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words. 

Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes as the next words leave you in a low voice, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he says it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”

He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand. 

Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.

“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”

You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”

“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”

“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.

Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”

“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. “I want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.”

“Dr. Cho—”

“Is no help.”

“I understand—”

“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”

It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger. 

“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”

Help, he did. 

Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered different colours of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag. 

It’s only then that you spot the segregated stack of papers in your bag that you remember. 

“I almost forgot,” you say, grabbing the pile and placing it in front of him. 

“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply. 

“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”

“I’ve been looking all over for these,” he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. “Thank you.”

You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”

It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he says something. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.” 

Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”

He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”

You smile, “No problem.”

[exhaslo]

I KNOW IM LATE FOR EASTER BUT WHAT IF Y/N DRESSED AS A LITTLE BUNNY W/ THOSE BUNNY SUITS TEASING MIGUEL WHILE HE'S WORKING THEN CATCHING Y/N OFF BY FUCKING HER SENSELESS?? (You should include "Want a carrot" and just include Miguel simply making y/n give him a BJ >_<) ITS ONLY IF U WANT TO BTW YOU DONT NEED TO IF YOU DONT WANT TOO :(

AND I'M TOTALLY LATE IN RESPONDING LOLOLOLOLOLOL

Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, oral (m-receiving), role play, teasing, dirty talk, rough sex, breeding kink

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"Alright, the Spider-Society should be pretty quiet today, so no one should notice me sneak in. You'll take care of the cameras, right Lyla?"

There you were, standing nervously in front of a mirror while speaking to the AI. Today was Easter and you had wanted to surprise Miguel while he was working. Give him a little stress free day while having some fun.

"Yep, just say the word when you're there and I shall get those doors open for you. Not a single soul will know you're there!" Lyla said with a chirp.

That gave you some relief. You were Miguel's girlfriend for two years now. You knew about his secret life and happily supported him any way you could. And right now, Miguel needed a break! He had been hold up in either Alchemax or the Spider Society for about three days now.

What better than to give him a little treat on Easter?

You took deep breathes as you fixed your tight bunny suit. The tail so cute and fluffy and the ears were being held in your coat pocket. It was difficult to make your way to Miguel's secret second life without anyone questioning your trench coat.

Once Lyla gave you the all clear, you rushed into the building. Normally, the Spider Society was impossible to enter for normal people. Miguel didn't want anyone accidently stumbling in. Which was why you had to rely on Lyla.

Chuckling nervously as you followed Lyla's directions, you were starting to feel the heat rise to your face.

This idea sounded so good in your head.

Placing the bunny ears on, you couldn't help but admire the structure of the building. Everything was so different and unique. Made for a Spider. Resisting a chuckle, you hurried to Miguel's office. The place really was empty.

"Alright, best of luck," Lyla said with a grin before disappearing.

You took a deep breathe before entering that dark lair. Dropping your trench coat, you proudly showed off your sexy bunny suit. A nervous smile against your lips as you saw Miguel on his platform, grunting and complaining about why it was lowering.

"Aye! Lyla!" Miguel hissed. You just smiled,

"Sounds like someone needs help from a little bunny~" You cooed. Miguel jolted slightly before turning to face you,

"(Y/N)? What are-What are you wearing?!"

"Happy Easter, Miggy. Care to feed this bunny a carrot for the long trip?" You asked, your hands stroking down his chest.

Miguel scoffed softly, capturing your lips in a kiss. He licked your lower lip, grunting softly as you started to stroke his dick through his suit.

"Amor (love), you could have gotten caught,"

"I had help,"

You got on your knees, kissing and licking Miguel's crotch. Your glossy eyes glancing up at him, waiting for him to cave and get rid of his suit. With another grunt, you got your wish and began to swirl your tongue against the length of his shaft.

Miguel groaned and grunted to every lick and stroke you gave him. Happy to see this reaction, you placed your lips against his tip and began to suck. His hands resting against your head, guiding you against his harden cock.

"What a bad bunny," Miguel hummed, "Sneaking into this place just for a quick fuck?"

"MhO mphm a (Who said anything about quick?)" You said to say.

"Shit,"

Miguel gripped your hair, fastening your pace. He moaned and whined against his cock, causing Miguel to lean forward. You knew that the vibrations of you talking against his dick sent shivers down his spine.

Which was why you liked to do it.

With another whine, you felt his dick hit the back of your throat. Your rolled your eyes back as heat pooled down to your cunt. Miguel grunted as he thrusted once more into the back of your mouth, cumming. With a hard swallow, you pulled away, panting softly,

"Someone...needed that..." You said with a soft chuckle.

"Says the one seducing me," Miguel lifted you up with ease, kissing you firmly, "Does my little bunny want this carrot anywhere else?"

Before you could say anything, Miguel's fingers were already over your soaked sex. You shuddered and whined as his fingers easily made a bigger mess of your suit that it already was. With a smirk, Miguel used his talon to rip the cloth over your pussy.

"M-Miguel! I spent a lot on this suit!" You pouted. Miguel silenced you with another kiss,

"Then I'll buy another. Can't keep my horny bunny waiting too long."

"Mphm~!"

You flung your head back as Miguel laid you against his desk, sliding his cock inside your folds. With ease, Miguel made himself at home with his dick kissing your cervix. Your gummy walls tightening around him so perfectly.

"Does my little horny bunny enjoy this?" Miguel pressed his hips against yours, causing you to moan and squirm, "You know what they say about that, right?"

You shuddered in response, holding onto Miguel as he slowly thrusted inside of you. Your whines not bothering him as he continued to torment you. His slow pace making you wetter as you tried to move your own hips to fasten the pace.

"Guess my bunny really wants a baby,"

"Mhm~ Ah~ M-Migueeeeeeel~" You whimpered.

Miguel leaned down to kiss you once more before he finally picked up his pace. His hands against your hips as his thrusts began rapid and rough. Your body shivering as you felt jolts run up your spine. Your cunt convulsing against Miguel's cock as you cam around him.

"Feel that? My bunny can't wait to be filled by me," Miguel whispered in your ear.

Your moans were getting louder as Miguel abused your cunt. Your head spinning as you focused on his dick. Miguel chuckled as he kissed you before slapping himself once more, giving you the first of many loads of his cum.

"Is this a tail I feel?" Miguel chuckled as he turned you on your stomach. His eyes sparkling at the sight, "How tempting. How long has my horny bunny been planning this?"

"Hn~!" You gripped onto the edge of his desk as Miguel entered your filled pussy again, "J-Just...ah~ ah~"

"Can't hear you," Miguel started his rough pace again, enjoying the sloppy sounds of your juices against his cock, "Want my babies that bad, little bunny?"

"Yesh~ Yesh~" You cried out, feeling your core burning once more.

"Then can my bunny keep up with me?"

You gasped as Miguel pinched your clit, causing you to come undone by him. Your body trembling in pleasure as his cock kept thrusting inside of you. Miguel lifted your ass up slightly, hitting you deeper than before.

"Good girl,"

---------

"Hm? Is my horny bunny finally waking up?" Miguel asked with a soft chuckle.

You groaned softly, feeling sore and groggy. Fluttering your eyes open, you noticed that you were back at Miguel's home. With a deep inhale, you nuzzled your head against his chest, wanting to sleep for a bit longer.

"Awe, can't have that. It's still Easter, and as far as I know...my cute little dirty bunny hasn't had her fill yet."

"Miggy...." You whined, looking into his lustful eyes, "You need to destress more often."

"I am," Miguel chuckled as he pinned you against the bed, "Now, let's keep making that baby."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

HOPE YOU ENOJYED!!!!

Hopefully the next holiday request I update in time, hahaaaaa

[milksuu]

ᴀ ʀᴜʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀꜱʜ & ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ ───── ♛

pairing: evil!hiccup x f!mute!reader

wc: 1.7k

tw: yandere, implied kidnapping, obsessive/possessive behavior, mention of blood/violence, mention of death

synopsis: You regretted the day they left him for dead. And you’d regret the day you ever saw him again—he’d make sure of that.

A gleam of orange blazed in the bleakness of night.

You watched from your hilltop window—the thatched roofs off the eastern slopes of Berk twisting and writhing in flames. Even from a distance, you heard the breaking moans of ceilings, the cracks and bends of collapsing wooden structures, and the piercing wails of scales met with sharp edges of iron. Despite The Red Death’s fall, dragon raids still plagued the lands.

Perhaps it was all a sign of retribution. 

You were told to stay within the safe confines of your home. Your father hadn’t wanted to risk your life, considering how precious you’d become. The next Seer in line after Gothi, gifted with spiritual wisdom, healing, and authority of officiating the next chief.

But the price to pay had been steep. 

The house was dark, not even the smallest candle lit. Nothing that would draw a glimmer of attention to the home. A creak ached the roof above, and you flitted your nose up to the rafters, drawing lines across the ceiling. Nothing but your shallow breaths filled the silent dark. 

The hearth then erupted with flame and spark, jolting you from back to neck bone. Had you any voice, a strangled scream would’ve ripped from your throat. Twisting, you had almost forgotten to breathe. A figure shrouded in shadow and leather stood beside the crackling firewood. Light and dark danced in an undulating battle across the strangers’ features–revealing a horrifying familiarity.

“Hope you don’t mind if I warm this place up a bit.” That voice, boy-ish in tone, lacked any hint of innocence or niceties. He stretched a gloved hand towards the licking flames, doing nothing to warm the ice coating his insides. “Couldn’t help but notice you looked a little cold and...alone.”

A snap of wood made you flinch; addressing him with quivering lips and dilated eyes. Your long-lost greeting didn’t forebode well.

Every piece of leather tightened around his body as he shifted. Turning to ensnare you within his talon like stare. When embers casted a sheen across his face, you braced against the sight. Soft features long since abandoned, reforged into a visage of cold iron. Carved and littered with scars and nicks across his furrowed brows, cheeks, and clenched jaw line.

“Well, this is kind of embarrassing. Wait, no. That’s not the word I was looking for. More like—disappointing. That sounds like a better fit. For you and everyone else here.” Hiccup stalked forward, a contraption of metal clanking and scratching against the splintering floors. Each step clanged through you, until he stood one heartbeat away. “After all these years, I’d thought you’d have a bit more to say than a blank stare. Every night, I dreamed about how this conversation would go. Just like how I dreamed things could be better than what they were. Funny how you can plan for things to go a certain way, but then…”

He pressed his hands at each side of your head, the glass window behind begging to crack from the pressure. His scent permeated, forcing you to swallow. Once smelling of spring honey and rolling glades, now sundered to singe your senses like bone ash and lightning storms. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one who’s a little different.” He placed a calloused finger into the dip of your clavicle. He dug and dug until your pained gasp fell deaf to his ears. Tilting his head, he curled the lip of his mouth. “So, just like Gothi, you gave up your voice. Good—great, actually. This works out better for me.” 

The smile that crept over his lips never made it up to his eyes. Not like before. Those vibrant meadows sullied into a sickly, muddled green. Thick and ichorous. And dared you stare long enough, you could never trudge your way out. Although you already felt stuck within them, your hand slipped silently into the pocket of your dress, where your fingers brushed against the hilt of a dagger. 

You drew it a mere inch before his hand captured yours, twisting until he pried it into his possession.

“Come on. We both know you were never good at fighting.” He chuckled, wagging the sharpest point between your trembling eyes. “I’ll admit it. I wasn’t either back then. That’s something we had in common…until I had to be. Guess that didn’t work out in anyone’s favor on this wet piece of rock. Now, did it?”

Your vision blurred. Screams of the village roared in your ears. Screeches of dragons pierced through the air, engulfed in smoke and fire. Having consumed so much in its wake, you felt the heat of chaos leech into the glass. Searing your back pressed against it.

“Woah. Hey, don’t cry. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” he swept a rough thumb over a falling tear stain. “Not all of them will die tonight. I mean, just think about it for a second. Can’t be chief and rule over a bunch of burnt corpses. How counterintuitive would that be?” 

“As for you though…” he continued, and your heart stalled as he traced the cold metal down your flush cheek and neck, pausing just above your breastbone. “I’m only standing here, watching everything and everyone turn to ash around us, all because of you. And don't tell me you don't remember. When you mended my leg. Somehow kept me from bleeding out. Just before the entire village abandoned me.” His clouded eyes narrowed down. “Including you.”

Releasing you from his pinning weight, your legs wobbled. As if he hadn’t just snatched your foothold underneath. Terror kept your feet webbed in place, watching as he twirled your dagger in his fingers like a child's play thing. Crouching near the fire, he mindlessly poked and prodded at the stoking wood. He picked away a scrap of charred chipping, before plunging the blade into the flank of the burning log. You gazed at him, chest tight, aching. How he hadn’t flinched when the fire slicked around his hand like oil.

He dragged the smoldering stump from the hearth, creating a scorched line. When the licks of fire seeped into the house floors, he rose, one vertebra at a time. 

“If I’m being honest, I probably would’ve done the same thing.” He unhooked a masked contraption from his belt buckle and tightened it over his face. The eye sockets were of yellow stained sea glass, and the mouth of it appeared like a muzzle of iron teeth. “Leave something already weak, then crippled to survive on its own. Gambling on the high-stakes of death. So sure of the outcome, no one bothered to turn over a shoulder.” Hellfire rose and swelled in the reflection of his mask. “Maybe they should’ve.” 

The rapid hunger of the hearth fire blazed and curled across the floor of the home. Heat lapped towards your skin, drawing out sweat from your pores. Dense smoke began filling the wooden death chamber. You inhaled the black snowflakes, searing your lungs once they melted inside you. You slapped a hard hand over your mouth, coughing and shuddering against it. A pang of panic willed your body to move. You attempted to open the window behind you, but to your horror, it had been welded to the frame. 

Your eyes watered, hugging the wall as you traced it to the door. When the handle clattered against your pulls and tugs, a ghostly laugh floated around you. The metal was bolted shut from the outside. A bout of nausea cramped your stomach. Fear darted your eyes toward the stairs, where the flames hadn’t yet reached—but soon. Perhaps the window of your room hadn’t been tampered with. 

You darted towards the steps, and before you could place one foot up, a black beast stalked from the darkness of the second floor.

The floating embers danced hauntingly over the onyx scales, and gashes rippled in the firelight. Revealing wounds healed twice, perhaps three times over. That body of night perfectly reflected it's master’s outward appearance.

And as you drowned in those feral slits of pure abandon, it was apparent they also shared the same broken, unmendable soul. 

“Oh. You remember Toothless, don’t you?” Your face paled, backing slowly as the Nightfury slithered down the steps like black ink. A predatory growl rumbled above the snapping and collapsing wood around you. Hiccup sauntered to the dragon’s side, patting the thick of his neck, pulsing with power. Another laugh at your expense. “Looks like he remembers you.”

You fought the claw of unconsciousness raking over every part of you. Choking, straining against your hand pathetically covering your mouth.

“Since you did me a favor back then, I’m going to give you one chance to make it up to me.” The mask muffled his voice, but the wickedness screamed, rattling your veins. “You can either choose to stay here and burn with the rest of Berk or…” he lifted a hand, hardly an invitation, but a devilish bargain. “You can choose me.”

In the thick of your pounding head and chest, you considered burning to death was the wiser option of the two. All that he was—what he’d inevitably become—held no promise of a life worth degrading yourself for. Nothing about you would be spared. And it wouldn’t be long till you dropped on hands and knees, begging for him to take your life. To end his drawn out game of torture. One he’d carefully crafted for years and years. 

Just for you, only for you.  

Still, you clung to life. A measly mortal thread. Your shaking hand lifted, painfully reaching for his fingertips. One step forward, and the world spun in wisps of red and black. Your lungs and heart throbbed, practically seizing. A calculated arm caught you, cradling you wholly, close as any lover would. 

“Good choice.” 

You heard the waning words of approval, and through the fading light of your vision, something fastened over your face. Your last conscious breath had been clean, airy—a pleasant contrast to the toxic fumes. 

Then, nothing.

[misty-caligula]

Okay this is gonna be long, but I’ve got a lot of ground to cover so please bear with me. In a real way, this is my series thesis.

I’ve said before, many times now (like a cycle) that for me the most important scene is ep 1 act 1 scene 1. There’s something There that I have been struggling to see clearly, struggling to articulate, and s2e9 really finally gave me the last pieces for it.

I think that Pit Girl is the point of the entire story. But not in the way that I thought going in. I feel like I’m rambling, so I’m going to try to structure my thoughts.

Imagine you’re a new viewer. You haven’t watched yj start to finish 30 times, you’ve never even buzzed before. You turn on the tv and the FIRST thing that happens is you see ... brutality. A half dressed girl chased through the freezing woods, murdered without a chance. They drag her through the snow, string her up, pour her blood on the ground. Hack her into unrecognisable chunks. Sit around in scary outfits and rip at her, with a huge focus on the teeth, as horror music plays. Then, Misty takes off her mask, puts on her glasses, and does the worst possible thing. She smiles. Directly at you.

Again, forget everything you know and go on vibes. You’re seeing the teens pre-crash, and you’re seeing them in the third timeline, fully formed, with horror motifs and covered in fur. You’d be mistaken for thinking that you were seeing start and end. Except that... we know, and you know, that Pit Girl is the middle. These monsters somehow came back from this. How? When they’re so so so far gone?

Hence the show. I know I’m not breaking new ground here, but bear with me. I’m going somewhere.

(Edit: Readmore added because honestly, LONG post)

You’d be forgiven, fresh-faced new viewer, for thinking you were watching some kind of gross-out slasher. But what happens in S1? Restraint. Laura Lee, the first non-crash victim dies at the end of episode eight. Jackie end of ep 10. (For the sake of this thesis we’re going to be almost exclusively focused on the teens.)

And yet there’s this tonal shift, It’s like ... inevitability. Like watching a crack in a window that’s very slowly spreading. Everything is steadily Getting Worse. The weather is slowly getting colder, the days are getting darker, food’s getting scarcer, life is getting harder. But so much of this difficulty is coming from external events and pressure. Yes, cracks start to show in the internal relationship dynamics, of course, but if food was plentiful, if shrooms were less so, if the weather were better, then they could probably work out a very long term stable situation. Sadly for them, things are not stable, and the pressure is building.

Then Jackie dies and the glass gets a really big break.

It’s worth mentioning at this moment that Jackie at any time could’ve come the fuck inside. Safety and warmth and even love were available to her. All it would’ve required was for her not to be the centre of the world. To make actual goddamn concessions and join the team. Which is why she couldn’t possibly make that choice, because she had to be invited, she had to be apologised to, she had to be accommodated. She couldn’t see the rest of the ‘jackets as being people who just like her were in a really shitty situation. She saw them as being external, as being in cahoots against her, as being part of some Thing that she wasn’t in on. She couldn’t let go of the society they’d left, and she preferred to die. Which sure is a choice...

Keep all of that in mind though. We’re taught to blame Shauna for Jackie’s choices. Let’s stop with that. Jackie chose not to assimilate, she looked around the cabin at the team eating the bear and praying to the wilderness and instead of just paying lip service to fit in, like Tai, she decided to put her foot down and make a Thing of it. She decided that being Right was more important than being Included.

Seriously, keep that in mind, we’re coming back to it. Cycles, you know...

Season 2, everyone’s hungry and hey we have this spare Jackie lying around. And we joke like “ha, you gonna eat that?” Only...

No. They WEREN’T going to eat her.

Really think about that for a second. They put her in the meat shed. With the bear. Think about what that does, psychologically. Linguistically. The meat shed is made to store food. The bear has a word: carcass. Day after day after week after month they carve progressively more pathetic chunks from it, subsisting on what little it offers. In the EXACT same room, sitting right there is Jackie. Her body has a different name. Corpse. With many different connotations. At NO point does ANY of them raise the fact that they’ve taken their friend and added her to their meat stockpile.

Because they haven’t. Instead, they’ve added a new sub-room. The meat shed is now also a morgue. And nobody ever once had to say it. They got it. We got it. You got it. And while they starved and their bodies BEGGED for food, Jackie’s corpse lay there, frozen and fresh, and stubbornly refused to become a carcass, because they wouldn’t let it. They knew that there were more important things than meat, even when they were starving.

The bacchanal was a mistake. A literal error. It simply wasn’t planned, wasn’t meant to go down that way. Maybe if they HAD considered that route earlier and had a discussion about it they’d have been prepared, psychologically, maybe if they weren’t so starved. Who knows. But in the middle of the night they were offered a way out, and they took it.

But Shauna took it first.

Even in their state, even faced with an ideal roasted feast infront of them, they waited until Shauna said it was okay. Because Jackie was Shauna’s friend, and they knew that she was still a person. That this was still a corpse first. It was Shauna who was able to give them permission to survive. To turn a friend into a meal. It was not their place to take that step. To shoulder that guilt. So Shauna did it for them.

The next day they’re devastated. The heavy reality sets in, now the hunger is settled. And Jackie’s carcass is far too real, they can’t change her back into a corpse. Nat tries, bless her heart. But Tai’s screaming reaction at having eaten Jackie’s face is only an externalisation of the grief and horror and agony they’re all going through.

And after Jackie they starve again. Hope and heat and light dwindles further. Every single day they all take another step towards death. That’s what starvation is, it’s the same thing as dying, you die a little bit every day until you can’t die anymore.

Kristen falls. Misty doesn’t even consider that she might bring her back as meat. If she had’ve, she might think, maybe she’d be considered like ... heroic. It doesn’t even occur to her. She’s not going to LET those bitches eat her one and only friend, and she goes out of her way to protect her.

Shauna has her horror show birth. And, no matter WHAT the context is, she produces.... meat. In the most awful, brutal way. And while the fandom made so many jokes and stuff, the reality is that yes... at least to an extent there was real nutrients there. And it was never once even brought up as an option, by these desperate, starving girls. 

When Coach tries to kill himself, here’s a ready source of willing meat. And Misty uses it as a threat to stop him. But it’s hollow, she’s just putting on fake fangs to try to keep him safe. She’s not actually that vicious thing that she’s pretending to be, just like she’s not actually homophobic.

When Lottie tells Misty to eat her if she dies, Misty fights her on it. Lottie has to insist. Then when she tells the rest of the team, they are so overwhelmed with the selflessness of the gesture that it inspires them to twist it into their first hunt. That’s what it takes. The hunt is an act of self-sacrifice and love.

And so we get to the hunt. The proto-pit-girl, we’ve come full circle and we start to learn all these answers to questions posed in act 1 scene 1. And they’re not the answers that were assumed.

How do they get to the point of eating each other? They sacrifice themselves willingly, for the sake of each other’s survival.

Why do they hunt the way they do? Because Shauna just can’t stand to murder a friend in cold blood, a friend she cares for and has no reason to hate.

Why the spike pit? Because it keeps the blood off their hands. Because it lets them blame It and preserve a tiny fragment of their innocence.

Why the weird symbols? The ritual itself? Because they need SOMETHING to hold onto, to make it all make sense.

Why so brutal? Is it? We THINK it’s brutal. It’s certainly bloody. But Pit Girl dies almost instantly. Her pain is over fast. She doesn’t have a good time going into it, obviously, none of them want to die. But she chose to run, she could’ve taken the knife instead. And the spike trap was efficient. Yes they drag her through the snow and string her up, but it’s mechanical and just part of the process and she’s dead already. Her pain is over fast, it’s not sadistic.

Why do they chop her up into chunks like that? Because nobody wants to eat her face. Because nobody wants to struggle with her humanity, they want her to look just like any other meat. So that they might be having deer or bear or ... friend. They’re eating because they are biological machines that need to eat, that NEED death to survive. They didn’t ask to be made the way they are, and they’re doing their best to cope. Shauna, probably blindly, takes on that responsibility, to transform their friend into unrecognisable meat to change a corpse into a carcass. She takes that pain for them, holds that sin for them, out of love. So they can eat, so they can survive.

What’s with the creepy horror masks? During the ritual they can’t handle being themselves. They create alternate versions of themselves to hold what must be done. The masks aren’t there to scare anyone, because there IS NO AUDIENCE. The masks are there to hide behind. That’s why Misty takes hers off at the end of the scene. The ritual is over and they can go back to being people again.

Why is Misty fucking Quigley in charge? Because she CAN be. Because she’s strong enough. If Lott/Nat/The AQ is the goddess/queen, Misty is the priestess/handmaiden, tasked with actually carrying out her orders. She interprets the queens words when she’s too weak, she provides counsel when she needs it, she tells the team what they need to hear in the moment, she gives out the micromanagement. Misty’s the power behind the throne, because when she says she’ll do something she fucking follows through. No matter the cost. And what the team NEEDS, whether they choose to admit it or not, is a backbone.

So...

They bring home Javi. The music uses a reference that’s never been done before. It uses the spiritual powerballad that was playing when Laura Lee tried to fly away. It builds the expectation of Great Things, of big, potent ...

And then it just stops. As the girls are faced with the reality of what’s laying on the table. The cold, blue corpse of a soft child who never hurt anyone. No matter what they do, no matter how hard they try they just cannot make him a carcass. But they have made the choice already, and if they turn back now it’s not like it’ll bring him back. They’ll just be starving and regretful as he rots.

So Shauna, blind and shaking, does the best she can. And when she brings in the meat, she - of all people - understands EXACTLY what Travis is going through. She knows what he needs. Because she’s been here. With Jackie. So she brings him Javi’s heart. His core. His love. His soul.

(She doesn’t bring him Javi’s head. She cuts that off and puts it aside so nobody has to eat his face... Some things are worth more than pure nutritional survival.)

And Travis, god bless him, does the only thing he can do left to respect Javi. He takes his heart, and he bites it, raw and bloody.

It hurts him to do so. It disgusts him so much, but he manages not to throw up. It disgusts the girls too, but they watch on, horrified. And that’s the POINT. Travis makes sure that before they do this, before they do what they have to... that they all remember this is Javi, this is human, this is a person. And he preserves the horror. For all their sakes. And only then, after he’s given his blessing, after he’s done his human acts, do these starving, ravenous girls allow themselves to reach for their food.

S1E1. Act 1, scene 1. We do not know who Pit Girl is. We do not know the exact circumstances that get us there. But we do know where we started now. What the original meaning is behind each of these little things. And it’s not brutality, not barbarism. It’s love. It’s not lord of the flies, a bunch of monstrous human-shaped creatures giving in to their primal nature and predating on each other. It’s a team of terrified people desperately clutching at their own humanity as hard as they can. Trying SO hard not to let that glass break, to not become the thing that the framing of act 1 scene 1 tried so VERY hard to convince us they were. Context changes everything.

And the proof is in the pudding. After they eat Jackie the shock explodes throughout the cabin. The atmosphere is thick, and horrific. Now with Javi, reduced to simple meat, carefully and lovingly seperated from what made him human, so they can grieve him while they sate their natural needs, the mood post-eating is calm and soft and warm and loving. For once they’re all together,  with grateful full stomachs and in a time of peace and plenty. They’ve done the impossible and maintained their humanity and love for each other and their respect for Javi in a nearly impossible situation.

*takes a deep breath*

Which brings us to THIS asshole.

Right from the start, Jackie is only kind of part of the team. She’s the team captain, put up there by Coach Martinez, but not because she’s the best of them but because she can maybe wrangle them into doing better. And they KNOW that she’s not really one of them. They plot around her, and just don’t bring her in on it. They put up with her, more than loving her, she’s just kind of forced upon them. But she does her best, to try to maintain some semblance of order, giving pep talks and the like.

Wait, Jackie? I mean coach. My bad.

Anyway, so Jackie has one friend, Shauna. She SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to her, but Shauna’s the only one who actually likes her. And Shauna’s her connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn as to where her real loyalties lie.

Sorry I’m talking about Jackie again.... weird.

In S1E9/10 Shauna finally chooses the team, for real. And Jackie tries to pull her back away, but Shauna puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, you’re the odd one out. Why don’t YOU leave, Jackie? Jackie looks around at the burgeoning cult, she thinks “Look at these evil monstrous bitches, and now Shauna’s one of them TOO?” And instead of finding a compromise, instead of doing introspection, instead of anything like that, Jackie goes and freezes to death because it turns out that sheer rage won’t keep you warm in sub zero temperatures. Because no matter what happens, Jackie’s Right and it’s more important to her to be Right than Included. If she’s not in charge than why is she even THERE?

Hold on, I see my mistake. Let me backtrack.

Right from the start, Coach is only kind of part of the team. He’s trying to hide from his real life, from Paul and the complexities of being genuine in society by taking on the job of coaching the ‘jackets. And they KNOW that he’s not really one of them. He’s just the guy they have to listen to, because society put him there. But he tries his best, giving pep talks and the like.

So Coach has one friend, Natalie. He SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to him, but Nat’s the only one who actually likes him. (Ignore Misty, a schoolgirl comphet crush is not the same thing). And Nat’s his connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn to where her real loyalties lie. Sometimes she’s on the bench with Coach, complaining about the state of things. Sometimes she’s in the thick of it with them all, and Coach is nowhere to be found.

In S2E9, Nat finally chooses the team, for real. And Coach tries to pull her back, but Nat puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, I’m worse than them, you’re the odd one out. Go, save yourself, you don’t belong in this place. Coach looks at a table covered in blood and gore, at Nat’s face, at the rest of the team pledging fealty to her. And instead of looking for context, or looking for compromise, or even remotely trying to understand what he’s looking at he thinks

Look at these evil monstrous bitches. They’re eating each other. They’ve all gone mad. They’ve even gotten Nat now. There’s no hope for them, there’s no hope for anyone out here.

And he decides that they’re corrupt. That the way you deal with that is fire. And he’s wrong.

(I have a theory that he’s gone and jumped off the cliff, that he set the fire to clear the corruption, and now like Jackie, unable to live in this situation any longer, he’s decided to die himself. I’d not be surprised to find him in s3e1 that way)

Jackie was a frustrating, difficult person. Because no matter how things went she just COULDN’T let go of the fact that she was trying to fit a mold that just didn’t suit her. She was raised with super high expectations, when she was really just kind of mid. And that’s fine, honestly, most people ARE mid, that’s why it’s mid. But she refused to see that those around her were shedding their social pressures, were adapting to the wilderness. They weren’t having a good time, they weren’t hunting and foraging because they were out there, camping for fun. Nobody wanted to be there. They were just trying not to complain about it, because they were all in the same boat.

Coach is similar. He simply won’t adapt. Refuses to. I mean this is a guy who’s STILL trying to live in the closet when there’s open lesbians making out in public around him. Who thinks of others as inherently monstrous when he himself, as a gay man, should know better. Because that’s what trying to fit your society-assigned role does to you.

It’s no accident that he and Jackie both spend a long time in the woods and neither of them can do something as basic as start a fucking campfire. Javi, a little kid, survived for MONTHS on his own in that cave. Coach couldn’t make it a day alone. Jackie couldn’t get through a night. They both rely so heavily on the team without ever once recognising it. Because SOMEONE was keeping the fires going. They both just ... refused to engage.

And just like Jackie can’t see that they’re not having fun out there in the woods, on the knifes edge of survival, Coach can’t see that they’re not having fun when they are so desperate they feel it’s warranted to sacrifice one of their own. He always thought of them as monsters, and he just sees what he expects to: a bunch of stupid useless teenage girls, finally doing what he always expected they would.

At any point... At ANY point he could’ve come in from the cold. He could’ve just accepted reality as they have. He could’ve taken some meat and accepted the price, as they have, joined them in their GRIEF about it, shared their humanity, and survived. Just as Jackie could’ve come in from the cold, and become part of the whole. But instead, they sit in the cold, consumed by their bitter hate, and decide that no, it’s everyone ELSE who’s wrong.

And who emerges from the burning cabin? A bunch of scared kids. Shauna, the FIRST cannibal, who saves Jackie’s prom dress before anything else. Travis, who grabs Javi’s wolf. Nat who grabs the ammunition - that they NEVER use on each other - because if they lost that they’d get SERIOUSLY desperate. And they protect each other, they make sure everyone makes it out. These supposed monsters who are so far gone they don’t even care about eating each other go out of their way to save each other, not just themselves.

Because Coach is wrong. Just like Jackie was wrong. Just like WE were wrong, in s1e1. Which brings me to my actual point.

This question is asked so many times in S1 it’s almost a mantra. And the ‘jackets’ oath of silence really builds up that it must’ve been something REALLY bad, right? But S2E9 has really made me recognise that fundamentally... Act 1 Scene 1 is entirely what everyone who asks this question is expecting.

Imagine they DID know what really happened out there. With that bloodthirsty fucking look in their eyes...

They’re not looking for an answer. They’re looking for a story. For an exciting spooky nightmare they didn’t take part in, so they can get a shiver and a thrill they didn’t earn.

They’re not looking for a love story. They’re not looking to hear how HARD these scared, tragic, broken people fought to hold onto their morals and their humanity and their sanity even against their own survival. They’re not interested in Shauna blinding herself just to try to stop her hands from shaking. They’re not looking to hear about Travis choking down the blood of his brother just to make sure that he can really FEEL it. So he can share the guilt, and never ever pretend like it’s Just Meat. The look in his eye when he can’t think of any good response to Van’s arguments that he needs to let Javi save him. What they want is...

They don’t want the context. And if the ‘jackets ever did try to tell anybody what actually DID happen out there, all they would see is ... Episode 1, Act 1, Scene 1. A bunch of monsters. Eating each other. Just like Jackie. Just like Coach. Just like we did, on first glance.

I’ve been saying this whole time that Yellowjackets is doing something really special. That it’s letting us see behind the curtain, that while everyone’s asking this big question, “what really happened?”, we’re the ones who get to know. Because it can’t be told. It can’t be spoken. It can only be seen. Experienced. I think that S2 has finally finished the first major arc in the teen timeline, that we now have the context to understand what comes next. And I do believe that it will get messy, it will devolve. Into fighting and screaming and battles. It’s tragic, but it looks like that’s the downward spiral, spiraling. As Travis and Nat deal with the guilt of what they did with Javi for each other. As Shauna and Nat butt heads and people pick sides. As Misty Mistys. As resources get even more desperate now their shelter is gone. As potentially new people (hikers? other cabin people?) get brought into conflict with them (I believe the cabin is a smoke signal, personally).

But don’t ever forget that we got here with love. Expect that the downward spiral will be lubricated with toxic, broken, codependant, self-destructive love as well. Watch them love each other to death... they’ve already begun.

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

CRAZY OVER YOU x MIN YOONGI

[HYBRID AU]

18 +

PART 6

Take Me Home

Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger, Jungkook/Hybrid Bunny, Hoseok/Assistant medical.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior, medical experiments, medical procedures and curse words, suicide attempt (not detailed only mentioned).

Word count: 12k

Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut.

SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.

< previously Final >

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Hybrids lived between us in our human society for a decade already, it was nothing new our society’s view of them had changed dramatically over this years. It wasn't something that stared out positively, at first many people thought the hybrids were some kind of alien and not so surprisingly feared them to the core. it was more of a understanding that was needed in order for us to change our view of the unknown. I was one of the few people who decided to fallow this path, i knew it wouldn't be easy but i had Jin beside me and he played a big part into the reason i became a doctor of special beings. I loved every part of my job as a doctor at the clinic. For years nothing has ever shocked me ever since i began my own work here, having spent almost my whole life working with Jin we grew up together here. No one could understand me better than him.

Shocked? That was an understatement.

To say the least i could nearly put any thought into sense. My mind seemed to still be under process after he spilled the most outrageous thing he could to me, i could feel my entire body run cold under his stare. I was hoping this was some kind of joke of his, the moment couldn't be more perfect for it - right? - but the more i searched in his eyes the more worried i became, there was no shade of entertainment on his features and it hit me like a brick in the head, he was completely serious about this.

Mouth opening and closing repeatedly as no words came out of my lips.

What was there to say?

He just claimed that the impossible had happened.

As much as i would like to believe in him, the situation just didn't make any sense. Many studies had shown how hybrids couldn't impregnate a human, one would think that as hybrids that would be a false affirmation since they were "half humans" but although they had human DNA their bodies the cell's structure that differed them to us were well… completely ‘different’, with both DNAs in their genes their animal genes "treated" the human genes almost like 'pollution' once in contact with another's "pure" human genes. Once a hybrids human DNA is a genetic modification of our DNA, for a hybrid and say a "pure" human to be able to conceive another being it was like mixing oil and water, they simply don’t mix together. I remember being disgusted at one class in medical university were that topic was first brought to me - the thought of humans searching for such possibility mean some people wanted to have such relations with the hybrids and all i could think about was the negative side of that - it was said that many exams and tests were done with hybrids to make sure they could be increased in number but after many years of research the hybrids simply didn't responded to any tests with humans, we simply didn't catch their radar to say the least.

The informations about the very first hybrid was also something no one knew about it, we just knew they are here now and have been for years already.

I had my conclusion in that moment that Jin was completely out of his mind and probably lying about this.

I could feel Jin's hands slowly began to let go of my shoulders sliding them down, he looked down before taking a step back.

- what? - I breathless said, almost not recognizing my own voice.

- I know is crazy but... - he nervously said, running his hand through his hair.

- Crazy? Jin do you have any idea what you are implying here? - i ask him completely staggered.

- I know but.... - he sighted - i found records for old experiments done...

- Jin why didn't you told me before? Why would you wait so long and just spill everything over me now out of all time? - i could feel myself getting heated, none of this was making sense and things had just gotten more complicated now.

- I'm sorry y/n.... I heard what you and Yoongi were talking about and... - his words brought heat to my face, embarrassed I looked anywhere but him - to be honest I've been noticing how you both were acting and I knew something was up.

- Jin, shit I don't even know what to tell you.

Here i thought i was being smarter when he knew everything all along, i was beginning to wonder if anyone else had notice anything going on with me and Yoongi and that thought brought Hoseok into my mind. I knew he’s been very skeptical about Yoongi and it made me question if it could’ve been because he knew about us.

- Is okay, y/n… i know what kind of person you are and i trust you wouldn’t do anything that could compromise the hybrids safety - he replied softly - I'm happy Yoongi has you by his side actually.

- Why would you be okay, though? I just broke the protocols, i.. i don’t know what I'm supposed to do to be honest Jin - i finally tell him.

- i can let this slide this time specially since i don’t have any right to judge you, when my father went against the rules I couldn't do anything to stop him before and I didn't even knew Yoongi was my... - he sighted - I didn't even knew I had a brother.

I looked up to meet his eyes feeling as the weight of the world went down over my shoulders, we both have been through so much in this past week and I couldn’t even begin to imagine what Jin must’ve been through all by himself. Finding out you have a brother who’s not even human and how your own father went overboard bad towards him for years torturing him, i can’t imagine which was worst to him and as his friend i couldn’t help but feel somewhat bad for not knowing to support him.

- Oh Jin, - i reached to hold his hand, holding it tightly before continuing - I understand you and i know you must feel like shit now but you should've told me that, you know you can always talk to me.

- I was planning on it and it definitely wasn't going to be like this but, you guys were getting intimate there and Namjoon just texted me saying he's coming to help with Yoongi - he explained softly - I thought you wouldn't want to have him find out like that.

Once he was done explaining i was the one feeling completely dumb, of course Namjoon would be coming soon. I should've thought about it before making any more decisions that could affect both Yoongi and me, my emotions got the best of me in the heat of the moment. I was once again blaming myself for being well… human, in some way i felt so weak when it came to Yoongi it was so unfair honestly how such a being like him ended up having so much power over me. I had tried so hard ever since i first meet him, it was unethical to let such feelings as “love” rise for a hybrid in a place where i was supposed to care for him, professionally.

But the heart wants what it wants, the most irrational and innocent thing a human can do is “love” and to love and be loved are things some can only experience once in a life time, some get to love and some get to be loved. To have both is a treasure.

It felt crazy to me but i no longer wanted to hide my feelings for i had no bad intentions, so unfair how my heart choose Yoongi to love.

Now this entire situation with Jin and Yoongi, I couldn't figure out what i was supposed to do.

- God this is crazy - I leaned on the wall, a long sight leaving me lips.

Nothing was making any sense anymore, I couldn't believe anything Jin was saying and i just couldn't find the background for it to make any sense in my mind. Amidst that i found the courage to ask the thing that was almost burning my head in confusion.

- how are you two... related?

Jin gave me a knowing look before taking his place beside me on the wall, after a long breath he looked up at the ceiling before talking.

- My mom once fell in love with a hybrid too.

His mom?

Jin never talked about her, i only knew what everyone else knew at the clinic. That she had left a long time ago when he was very young so he grew up with his dad, having no contact what so ever with his mom afterwards.

- Oh. I thought you didn't knew her very well, you said she left when you were younger right? - i asked.

- Yeah, but recently I've been doing some research on Yoongis case since i needed to collect proof that my dad was taking advantage of his powers at the clinic and to finally take my father away from the clinic - a sight left his lips.

I was surprised to hear that he would be taking legal action against his father, no matter what he did he was still his dad after all. I couldn't say i wasn't happy about it thought, if we keep letting things like this slip out it will only grow bigger and end in the most unfortunate ways.

- Jin... - i looked at him from my side, this whole time he seemed to be doing fine but now that i took a good look over his features, i could see the tiredness at the lines of his face the eye bags begging to form.

- I know but this has to be done, he needs to pay for what he did to my brother.

- Well I can't argue with that - i looked at the wall in front of me, the emptiness of it and no traces of color did nothing to help my overthinking - is that why you've been trying to help Yoongi this whole time?

- Yeah... I was searching for old documents since everything started years ago we had no updated data of treatment or what so ever of him and I found ... my mother's diary - he paused for a moment before a small smile filled his face turning to look at me - her story reminded me of you two. She meet a black mamba hybrid who was brought here for recovery and he hated everything and everyone too... except her.

- Well that does ring a bell or two… - I shyly looked away for a moment. Thinking of Yoongi and it seemed the grumpiness runs in the family.

- I'm sure you must be wondering how this was even possible - he said, i nodded at him finally the one million question - trust me i too have no idea.

- What? But how do you know he truly is your brother?

- I have the documents of her pregnancy with him, all the exams she took at that time… everything leads to him - he said, a dark cloud surrounding his soft features this time - she was part of the research about hybrids and humans being able to reproduce and... she succeeded, with no one knowing.

Once again i was punched with shock right in the gut, completely dumbfounded. For years I studied the same theory at university and years complimented by my colleagues how assertive my assignments on the impossibility of humans and hybrids reproducing for today, i be proven wrong.

- I couldn't find anything on the research though, it seems everything about how she was able to have Yoongi disappeared - Jin continued, i could already feel the engines on my head burst open as i took in every words coming from his mouth - i found some of my fathers old records it says that after some time she couldn't bear the child anymore and had some problems with the pregnancy and due to that she had to give birth to him too soon.

- I see, so regardless of the impossible being possible she did end up having complications to bear a hybrid - i said, the engines in my head no longer bursted open but begin to work out.

- Yes, he had to be put in a incubator - as he said that he furrowed his eyebrows a clouded expression on his tired features - I remember when i was younger she came home sick and for months she didn’t even left her bed, in that time she never told me anything but it seemed my father only found out about my brother when she was rushed to the emergency that time. When she couldn't hide anymore.

- So she was doing this and no one knew about it? - i asked shocked - it makes no sense, how could hide such thing?

- It wasn’t for long actually, a normal pregnancy would take almost a year but, she mentioned in her diary how it seemed to be moving faster then a normal human pregnancy i’m certain it was due to the hybrids advanced genes and after three months the complications begin to grow and she couldn't hide anything anymore.

Complications would be bound to happen, from years of research on that matter nothing was positive from the begging of a hybrid pregnancy and many complications were reported after the tests. We were not made to carry a hybrid being, our human bodies can only afford to give much and a hybrid requires more then a human body can offer. It goes beyond anything we know.

At the end of the day it doesn't matter how many tests and research we do, we still know very little about them.

- What happened to Yoongis father?

- He was... put down after my father found out. It truly was a miracle that mom got Yoongi and it doesn't make any sense but I have a few theories - he said, making me smile at him. That was the Jin i knew, always having a few cards under his sleeve - I have to do some research to be sure thought.

- I see.... Oh my god Jin, how have you been going through all of this alone?

- I don't know I was just hopeful. I have a brother who doesn't seem to like me much but is okay - he just brushed it off.

- That’s not true, Jin I'm sure he likes you deep down he's just .... - i paused, mind finally putting thoughts of the snake hybrid together - he feels a bit threatened, i think it might be because of me.

- Oh, that's why? I understand he must feel that way specifically since you're human and not a hybrid like him, he must duel between his feelings and instincts as you’re different then him.

I nerves once thought about it like that, I had been so caught up on my own thoughts and emotions I didn’t even thought for a moment how that situation could be affecting Yoongi. Of course things wouldn’t be exactly easy for him, he had a completely different perspective of our relationship then i did. But all I did was judge based on his hybrid personality i didn’t think for a moment he would be so considerate of me for I’m just human.

- is unusual for it to happen like that? - Jin muttered, pausing for a second as if noticing what he said - for like both sides?

- I know, we are away from being normal - i gave him a slight nudge on his side, trying to ease the tension.

- I just wanted you to know that it had happen before - he confessed.

- What exactly?

- Hybrids and humans - he said - Yoongi is proof that is okay if hybrids and humans love each other. After all they deserve it too right?

- I'm just... I don't know Jin, I've been told my whole life it wasn't normal it feels weird now but, I...i love him.

- I'm glad you feel this way about him, he never got the chance to meet mom so I'm truly happy you are the one taking care of him.

- yeah, they do.

His words brought a comfort to my heart i knew i was needing, I’ve been feeling so guilty over my feelings for Yoongi even now that i knew he felt the same way about me. Everything felt so different, like something so far away from reality it certainly does not feel like a normal day and I was sure it wouldn’t even from years from now.

Especially when you spend half your life learning about this beings and grow a career to help them, everything seemed impossible at first that a possibility was never once considered, but now even as i was in the eye of the hurricane i still couldn't believe that it was happening.

- Also, Namjoon will be here soon so you should go back in and calm Yoongi - Jin said, leaning away from the wall to stand in front of me watching me with a apologetic face - I'm afraid you guys can't go farther than a few kisses for a while.

- Shit Jin! - i exclaimed, cheeks burning in heat as i hit him in the shoulder many times - How much did you heard!?

- Don't worry. You perverted girl, he is my brother I couldn't watch that - he made a disgusted face - you should be thanking me, I was the one who turned everything off before anyone else could see it.

- Yah... oh god this is so weird now - i held my temples, trying to calm myself from more embarrassment as he just stood there laughing - but I'll go check on him.

- Maybe we should give him suppressants for a while.... - Jin contemplated.

- Yeah....

- We should talk about this later in particular - he mentioned.

- Yes, also shouldn’t we tell Namjoon? - asked him, just now i realized how Namjoon has literally been out of everything this whole time from the beginning and made me feel bad about it.

- I guess so since... I've some things in mind, it will be weird if he only finds out later - he continues.

- Yeah, wait what things? - i asked.

- I'll explain to you when we get to talk alone later.

- Oh god there's more.... - I mumble - Don't leave me out again thought!

- I won’t.

- Will you come in with me? - I sighted, looking over Yoongis door room - since... brothers?

- Oh no, for the sake of my eyes i won’t - he said lifting up his hands in defeat.

- Ya! I wasn’t- you little... - I immediately stoped as he only chuckled over my embarrassment - wait here and don’t let Namjoon enter before i make sure Yoongi is.. you know what.

- Wouldn't interrupt the love birds, you don’t have to worry.

At that i gave him once last slap on the head before turning on my heel back to Yoongis room.

I had to take a few breathes before entering the room, i had no idea how i would go from now. Things were not what they used to, i still had to process all about the new information Jin just dumped over me - Yoongi being Jin's brother. That didn't change my feelings for him though, but it brought some clarity to my thoughts and it made me realize that Jin was just trying to be there for Yoongi and despite all he still considered him his family.

I desperately wanted him to know everything but it didnt felt like it was my place to let him know Jin was his brother, that he has a family. The more I questioned that the more convinced I was that now wouldn’t be the best time to tell him, especially with everything that happened between Yoongi and his father. For now i would let that slide so Jin can be the one to tell him the truth, my only concern in that moment was how am i supposed to tell Yoongi the grumpy snake hybrid we cannot mate?

With a long sigh i entered the room, the door never felt heavier then now and i didn't know if it was all in my head but his room didn't felt as warm as usual.

- why did it took you so long...? - his voice was low and groggy sounding drunk almost.

I had to swallow hard, my body immediately responded to his presence feeling the heat embrace ever centimeter of skin under my clothes, heart racing the closer I got to him as my eyes took in his figured lying lazily over the mess of covers. It clearly did not look like that before and I felt the realization hit me in a big wave of heat. Oh, damn he was making that nest again.

- sorry, i didn't mean to... - i said, carefully approaching the hybrid.

- Hum... - he slowly sit straight at the edge of the bed, chest exposed by his opened shirt his face was slightly red, lips swollen and he looked me up with lazy eyes.

Something about his heat made him look so dreamy it was hard to concentrate on anything else when he looked like that, I tried my best to stay focused on the matter at hands which was to make him take the suppressants and cut off the mating process quickly and efficiently but, i find out that would be more difficult now that i have him in front of me then a few seconds ago before entering the room.

I continued to swallow hard, heart rate gone loose like a mad horse on an empty field. He looked so heavenly now I wanted to eat him whole, my eyes couldn't stop running to every corner of his exposed skin and his beautiful scales. The small coat of sweat over him made his skin shine even more, it was unreal how enchanting he looked. How unfair.

i didn’t know how much time i had until Namjoon got here so i kept a good distance between me and him. I'm afraid if i took another step he won't make it any easier to me - not that I would mind and that was exactly why I needed that space.

Another hard swallow from me the second he turned his head slightly to the side, eyes staring at me curiously up and down. A frown formed on his face when he realized i wasn't moving any closer, by now i was sure he knew something was going on.

- if you have something to tell me... - he began, eyes staring down at the floor between sounding almost desperate as he looked up in my eyes - come closer and do it, I can't stand you being this far away from me.

I could feel my breath burning inside my chest at his words, the second his eyes moved back to mine i was already making my way towards him. That was honestly all it took from him to have me completely at his mercy, I felt deep in myself how much I couldn’t also stay away from him. Sitting beside him carefully, I felt my body heat up even more wanting so bad to just let myself go and let his arms embrace me into his body, i nervously looked at his hands on his lap biting hard on my bottom lip as if that would bring any relief to my nervous self.

- what is it? Do you… not love me anymore? - he said, almost running out of breath on his words.

I instantly moved closer to him, taking his hands into mine.

- how could you say that…. - i assure him, breathlessly as he stole my words - I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have feelings for you, Yoongi.

- Then what is it? - he asked, face slowly softening as I called his name.

- Things have gotten a bit complicated... - i tell him, he turned completely to face me worried growing on his soft features.

- Why? That Jin director won't let you be with me? - anger showed clear over his soft features, chest moving up and down faster as he spat the words showing his clear discomfort by the other male.

If i didn’t knew they were brothers i would have view this situation differently but, now that i know everything i couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction which gain me a confused look from the snake hybrid.

- Actually... he doesn't mind at all - i tell him, seeing as how his face changed so fast at my words he looked even more confused now and it made me chuckled again.

- He doesn't? - he mumbles, blinking confused.

- Jin just wanted to let me know that...

- I don’t care what he said.

He didnt let me finished, interrupting me mid sentence. Hands holding my wrists he moved so fast i bearly had any chance to properly process what he was doing until it was too late, my hands were held above my head and he pined me down on the bed straddling my waist.

I could feel his fast breathing over my lips and just like before his skin burned over mine, i immediately felt my body gave in his touch knowingly and in complete defeat - i knew I shouldn't have gotten closer to him.

Namjoon could get here anytime now and stoping a hybrid in heat wasn't easy especially when you were caged under him and every cell in your body longes for his touch, so painfully desperate for him.

- wait... Yoongi? - i tried to call out for him but no effect at all.

I know trying to stop him would be harder even more as my will to stop him was also compromised, as he looked down at me with so much desire and wet lips brushing so closely over mine.

- I need you... - he mumbled, leaning down on my neck.

No. Not the neck.

But he knew already all my weak spot’s which made it all worse and so good at the same time, I immediately felt my body shake underneath his at the feeling of his warm wet tongue over the skin of my neck.

He groaned in pleasure holding my wrists tighter, it was getting more and more difficult to resist.

- Wait please, yoongi - i call out again, this time he stopped his movements looking back into my eyes.

- What? Did i made you uncomfortable? - he said, apologetic.

- No it's just... Namjoon is coming and he'll be here anytime soon - i explained - we can't do this now.

- I understand... but this is not something i can control y/n, you should've thought about this before coming here and bitting me - he said, letting go of my wrists.

- I know, i know... - I carefully held his face caressing his cheek with my thumbs - I'm sorry... i don't meant to hurt your feelings, i want this just as much as you do but...

- The others don't understand... - he whispers.

- They don’t.

- What do we do now.... - he murmured over my lips - how are you gonna take responsibility for doing this to me?

If it wasnt for the smirk on his lips and the playfulness in his voice, I would think he was serious in that moment but i knew it was the opposite and as much as i wanted to comply to his wishes we couldn't do nothing for now.

Not knowing if we would ever get that chance, I simply pushed my lips over his kissing him desperately as if his lips were water and I've been locked away without a single drop of it. My thirst for him was eternal.

- make sure i pay you back - i tell him, chest rising up and down against each other.

- I will.... - he promised.

He got up from above me holding a hand out for me to get up, once i did he closed his other arm around me waist. Making me look up into his eyes, he stared into mine nervously almost as if he had been caught on a lie.

I just giggled at his reaction.

- please don't tell me you'll make me suffer more by going on heat alone - he pleaded.

- What if i do? - i playfully teased, earning a serious look from him as i made my way towards the small cabinet with medical supplies.

I wouldn’t let him go through it knowing how painful it could be, for now he would be under a small dose of suppressants until we know what to do.

- if you do... - he said fallowing behind me - I'll take you now....

For the second time he had spin me around completely taken me by surprise, holding my body tightly against his. I couldn't tell before but now it seemed his heat was getting more intense as if he wasn’t before, his usual dark eyes had a more yellow color around it, his cheeks were red and his fangs were more noticeable this time.

I could tell he was getting on the edge of losing from his finger tips tightening on my waist painfully, it could be really difficult if it gets too intense.

- no matter who enters this room... - he whispered over my lips - I'll make you mine.

- I won't do anything to hurt you - I whisper back, it seemed to be enough to wake him up from the trance.

He smiled softly eyes closing slowly and opening, he was breathing through his mouth a few drops of sweat sliding down the sides off his head to his neck. Yoongi has been holding his heat for days now, i couldn’t even imagine how uncomfortable this must feel for him and it made me feel bad for starting this but the situation calls for a pause now.

Feeling his fingers slowly lessen the grip on my waist letting go of me, I turned around to get him the suppressants quickly preparing a small dose of suppressant on a syringe before turning back to him.

- this will work faster so you don’t have to suffer tonight - i explain.

- Ok... - he took off his shirt completely before I even ask, for a moment I thought he was only being helpful but the sly smirk on his lips told me otherwise

He was doing it on purpose to provoke me, knowing very well how on the edge I was.

- And you were afraid of me teasing - I mumbled, he chuckled as i inserted the needle into his arm.

- Is good to know you're affected by me - he said, I quickly disposed of the syringe before turning back to him.

- How could i not? You...

Before i can finish the door is burst opened by a nervous Namjoon and a confused Jin fallowing right behind him.

- y/n are you okay? - Namjoon rushed to me - sorry i left so quickly.

I looked over to Jin who gave me a small smile then at Namjoon who shares his stare between me and the hybrid.

- she's fine.. i didn't eat her - he said to the male, double sense dripping from his lips through his smirk as he began to dress into his shirt.

My cheeks immediately went hot a low chuckle coming from Jin which he quickly tried to cover up by looking away, the situation was somewhat different now heaving the brothers in the same room sharing the same joke.

It made me feel at ease.

- I'm fine, Yoongi is on suppressant so he didn't do anything - i tell Namjoon, earning another chuckle from Jin.

- Ok that's good, Jin told me the mating process was canceled - Namjoon said.

- Yeah, we figured is better since is what the hybrids feel more comfortable with - i tell him - don't worry Joon we’ll fill you with all the details later, right Jin?

- What? Oh, yeah, oh yes later - jin said nervously.

I only stared at him shaking my head side to side.

[…]

It felt like i was living a movie ever since i meet the snake hybrid, how could i imagine all the events that would be fallowing the moment i decided to get myself between Yoongi and the clinic. I couldn't believe everything even after we left Yoongis room so he could rest, he needed to adapt to the suppressant before we moved him back to his room so as soon as we made sure everything was fine we left to carry on our different activities. Not only he needed to adapt but i knew this would take some time before i can begin to process it, now more then every we needed to be aware of the decisions we make in this process. It did not only involve Yoongis safety but the entire clinic.

At the same time i wanted for Jin to make his father pay for his mistakes, i fear he would try to do something and make things more complicated.

Whatever may happen i was sure to be there for Jin, we still needed to sort everything out as soon as possible.

Namjoon was the most confused between us all, after all Jin had the most impact on him right after we left Yoongis room he turned to Namjoon with the more serious expression on his face as if he was on a mission.

- we have import things to discuss later.- he said with a hand on his shoulder, and the most dramatic look on his features.

- Alright...? - Namjoon was so puzzled he could bearly say anything after he left. - is everything okay with him?

- He's good… see ya?

- see ya.

I knew things were set for drama later on, but now i could tell a weight seemed to heave left Jin's shoulder - mine too now that i was sure he wasn’t bother by my feelings for Yoongi, especially since they are brothers. I was happy he was the one to know about us first, we seemed to share the same thoughts and stand together on the same page when it came to Yoongi. Jin being his only family now i was happy for him, Yoongi wasn’t alone anymore.

Things were bound to happen and secrets can't stay hidden forever, but we had each other and we have the same goal in mind.

Save Yoongi.

Not knowing my day would star with such events in the morning, i didn’t assigned much appointments for today since i would be focusing on Yoongis treatments and his mating process but now that it was all canceled the plans had changed and my schedule was more clear today, i had to make sure a day before today for any case Yoongi may need my assistance but since he was on suppressants from now i would only have to go with his normal appointments now. I found myself completely bored a few hours later after checking on my patients.

After noon i was going back to check on Yoongi when i felt my phone vibrating on my pocket assuming to be Jin and chuckling since i was right ''meeting. My office.'' It read and i could almost picture his teasing smile on his face while sending this.

Truth is ever since the situation with Yoongi was set to our care we have been so stressed and on the edge with it all, one after the other, all the worst cases possible were just being dumped on us and i knew it wasn’t going to be any easy from that point, now that Jin has opened up about his father i knew why he was so distant this whole time and so eager to get things done.

Just like me he too was going through a hard time but now that we finally talked about everything all that worry and fear seemed to be gone, i could feel how much lighter his humor seemed to be and i too felt more comfortable despite my worries for Yoongi.

I was making my way to the elevator to meet up with him when the the alarm went off and all the halls were lighted by the red color and my whole body immediately moved in alert. This was a red coded situation and different from the tiger hybrid accident last week, this one was emergency alert. Not thinking twice as i rushed through the corridors hearing the voice on the speakers requested assistance on the main entrance of the clinic - was there a hybrid making an escape? Not just any hybrid but a red code one?

Today gotta be my lucky day, right after lunch someone tried to escape? The situation couldn’t call for a better moment and i worried for all the other hybrids safety and the timing couldn’t be more perfect as it just so happened to be when the hybrids were coming back from the canteen.

Once I finally got there i was ready to assist with anything but, i found myself watching a scene that for my disappointment was exactly what i was praying wouldn’t happen.

A few doctors circle around the main entrance not moving clearly unsure of what to do as the coded red hybrid held one of our patients by the neck, rushing through the people around i stood in front of the scene feeling a breath close on my throat at the sight of the bunny hybrid i was treating being held by the neck on his knees.

For a moment I thought that this couldn’t be a hybrid who stood there holding Jungkook, i was skeptical as he didn’t show any characteristic of an animal until he looked up in my direction looking straight into my eyes. He didn’t have human eyes, they were bright orange his pupils closed on a thin line sharp enough to bring a chill to my spine. The light shined better over his face making known the golden color of what i knew very well were scales, he was a snake hybrid.

The painful groan from jungkook on the floor immediately woke up the rage inside me, if he wanted to hurt me it was fine but to go after one of my patients it was something else and before i could even think for a second I was already walking towards them, ignoring the few rushed warnings of the people around me.

Making my way towards the snake hybrid i never felt so angry before, being with Yoongi certainly raised my confidence with his kind.

Once i was one step away from the hybrid, looking straight into his sharp snake eyes he smirked at me. Tilting his head to the side as he licked his bottom lip, analyzing my face.

- let go of him - I demanded, anger spitting the words from my lips.

- I don’t want to...

This time i closed the distance.

- you don’t have a say in this, i can wait all day if i must - I demanded again, never even blinking away from his eyes - now be a good boy and let go of my patient.

This time his smile faded completely from his face into a bitter look and he slowly let go of jungkook, who almost fell on the floor over his face. I carefully lowered myself to help jungkook up holding his hands, his neck was red from the tight grip of the snake hybrid and he had tears on his eyes.

- are you okay? - i asked him. He nodded only and I quickly rushing him towards one of the doctors standing there.

- You're not like them... - the hybrid in front of me mumbles, making me turn back to him watching as his orange eyes looked me up and down before stoping over my neck.

I nervously swallowed, i know hybrids have much higher senses and from the look on his snake eyes i was sure by now he too knew about Yoongis bite on my skin still covered by a badge. Heat fallow up my face, knowing from experience he could probably smell Yoongis scent all over me and i prayed he wouldn’t say anything about it in front of every one.

- i don��t know what you mean by that - i tell him, trying my best to sound stern - now will you come with me to your room so i can get you treated or... do you want to go sedated?

He chuckled.

- lead the way doctor - he said, teasingly.

At his words the people around us seemed to have calmed down and soon one of the doctors came to my side with the hybrids documents and a collar to put on him, he looked at me worriedly but i only smiled trying to easy out the tension brought by the snake hybrid, i made sure to take the collar from him and quickly turned back to put on the hybrid.

Anger no longer seemed to be running on my system and i felt nervous once again, but i tried my best to keep my composure while closing the collar around his neck.

Closer now to him i could tell that different from Yoongi, this hybrids scales went higher up his neck stoping right under his ear, his blonde hair was bright almost white and i could pick a citrus scent on him.

I was curious to know what kind of snake hybrid he was.

- i can smell this is not your first time doctor - the snake hybrid insinuates, careful with his choice of words.

- It is not, fortunately for you I'm the one they call when hybrids like you don't have manners - i reply, which makes him smirk even more.

- Lucky me - he mumble, eyes looking up and down at me as he licked his bottom lip showing his sharp fangs.

I didn’t needed to question that he was sure a poisonous snake hybrid, I fear that differently then Yoongis bite his would actually be deadly.

Lucky me.

We didn't know if he would behave until he is all set on his room so me and another doctor were quickly to bring him there, we had to make sure to do this fast to ensure the other hybrids safety. I was glad he didn’t try make another scene but i still held my guard up, walking behind the hybrid as the other doctor took the front guiding us to his room.

Once in his room he was quick to walk up to the bed at the center of the room, sitting on the edge of it i fallowed behind o take the collar from him.

Stoping in front of him as the doctor responsible for him prepared his medication, i focused on carefully tacking the silver collar from his neck. His scales were much different then Yoongis, his had a more yellow and golden sparkle to it which made it look like he was covered in gold in contrast with his almost white hair.

With the collar off his neck he quickly held my wrist stoping me from moving away, he looked up at me, pupils fuller this time, only a small bit of orange around his full pupil told me he was calmer now, he brought my wrist up to his nose closing his eyes as he smelled.

- i smell another hybrids scent on you... - he whispered amused, the smirk never leaving his lips as he watched me - i never seen a human mate with us before..

I took my wrist from his hold harshly, feeling the heat creeping back to my face. Turning on my heel i walked back to assist the doctor, listening the snake hybrid chuckling behind me.

- what do we have? - i asked the doctor, trying to brush the emotions off my nerves.

- he is a piton snake hybrid, red coded but not by poisonous…. - he said.

- i can tell… - I murmured taking the documents from him as he prepared a sedative for the hybrid.

Usually the code red is attributed to a hybrid for one of two reasons, he is a predator which does demand a different approach before we can proceed with any further treatment or he has a history of misbehavior mostly being attempted escape or attempt to harm others, usually they only attempt in harmful behaviors.

I wasn’t surprised to find in his file that hes been assigned to our clinic for treatment after trying to kill one of the doctors on his past clinic, the list goes on and i wasn’t sure what to do.

Name: jp01301095 Male Species: Snake/Piton

Code: Red. (Destructive behaviors)

Date of admission: 13062016

Current status: to be treated for aggressive behavior and attempt to suicide.

Resume: Patient jp01301095 has shown no sign of improvement on past treatments, has been unable to socialize with his kind and the doctors responsible for his treatment. Patient didn’t show any symptoms of recovery, due to his destructive behaviors against others he is required to be isolated from anyone and to be excluded from mating process.

This would be one hell of a patient to treat, the more i read his file the more i became concerned about him. All i could think about was the words “attempt to suicide” on his file, how they never bothered to give him an actual name all made me question if the clinic he was before even cared to treat him correctly, he was the first patient i have heard off that actually tried to harm himself. No matter how many pages of his aggressive behavior towards others i read nothing was making me see him as a threat, I was afraid that just like Yoongi he too was only acting out of fear, looking up at his figure he stared at me smirking i wondered if all wasn’t just a mask he decided to wear to hide what he truly felt.

On his file i notice the dates of all the incidents involving him that, his behavior worsen after his attempt to end his own life. After treating Yoongi and finding out all the mistreatments done to him in this clinic, i was sure this snake hybrid has been gone through the same if not… worse in his past.

I turned to look at him as he stared at us amused and decided on taking matters in my own hands if needed.

- you can ask anything to me... - the hybrid said getting up and walking over to where i was.

It wasn’t like i was some kind of fearless human that i somehow always managed to get in this situations, i just felt more understanding of the hybrids pain then the others and I couldn’t ignore the fact that every time i looked at him, i saw someone who needed help even though he tried to hide it and did very well. He was the victim here but others may not be able to see it as i do, turning to the doctor I smile softly at him.

- call for Namjoon - I whispered to him and he nodded quickly.

I knew he would be the only one after me who could treat this snake hybrid, Namjoon was stronger then me and i knew better then to let myself act any recklessly with this hybrid. He was letting me go now because he wanted, from his files i knew it wouldn’t take a second before he try to hurt me. I needed someone who i could trust to care for him and that was Namjoon.

Once the doctor left i walked up to the hybrid. I knew this was dangerous but i saw what Yoongi did to the other staff and i knew this couldn't go any different if i wasn’t careful.

- well, I'm y/n I'll be taking care of you before we proceed with further treatments - i tell him.

- Please do... - he said, a smirk fallowing.

I took the sedative with me. When we go through traumas our brain tend to mask it as the opposite feelings as a safe mechanism, hybrids were no different then us when it came to that. I could tell he was using a flirting tone and a smile to mask his feelings probably also to provoke a reaction from me since he knows about Yoongi from his scent on me, i questioned if he uses that as a way to get things he wants from people - was it that how he got closer to his past females doctors?

I saw first hand how he can be when acting out on rage, but the more I looked at him now if I didn’t watched before I wouldn’t even believe he was capable of such thing. Right now he looked like a complete different hybrid then the one i read on the file, he wasn’t much taller then me, had a small figure and was covered on a gray uniform from his old facility, his white hair messily covered some of his face, his skin looked so pale it made the scales on his body shine like gold.

When he wasn’t smirking the soft features on his face made him look almost angelic, he was beautiful indeed - was it common for all snake hybrids to be this beautiful?

I quickly brushed off.

- what is your name? - i ask him.

They never once bother to give him a name, clearly no one even treated him kindly before for it. It was noticeable to me they didn’t thought of him for more then an aggressive being, only seeing him for his flaws but never trying to care for his wounds.

- I’m sure you read in the file, is jp01301095…. - he said, nonchalantly.

- yeah, but I’m sure that is not how you actually call yourself - i tell him, approaching softly - I’m asking for your real name.

He looked at me suspiciously certainly i was the only one who ever bothered to ask for his name, i could see how his mask dropped for a very short second before he smirked taking another step closer.

- you can call me Jimin…. - he said, sarcasm dripping his words - did they send me here because i misbehaved?

- Why you think that? - i asked softly, I realized the calmer i sounded the more his pupils dilated - did you do something bad?

- Humm... i hurt someone - he murmured, eyes shining brighter as if remembering exactly what he did - that's why they didn't assign any females as my doctors...

His files did mentioned a few females assistants who were unfortunate on the receiving side of his anger, it made me wonder why he prays on them more then males. Was it a women who inflicted the pain on him? Or was it that he just thought of us as being easier to hurt?

- I see... well nothing I haven't seen before - i tell him. Which brought a cold chuckle from him.

- You have some courage - he walked closer to me - is it because you stink of a snake hybrid? You think hell protect you?

- I can protect myself Jimin - i tell him.

The mention of his name did got a reaction from him as i imagined, for the second time i saw the mask fall for another split second before i took the chance to grab his wrist carefully. He didn’t fight me not did he tried to hurt me from touching him, i was surprised at that not exactly expecting him to let me guide him back to his bed. He sat down watching my every move.

- you are not here to be punished, Jimin… - i decided to call him by his name.

I took the sedative the doctor prepared, all his symptoms were under a red pen marked as dangerous on his file and everything was pointing how Jimin wasn’t physically hurt but mentally. He was unstable and so on for the first appointment he must be asleep, as much as i hate it I can’t do the opposite , he could still try to hurt someone and i was set on changing that behavior of his.

- you are here to be treated and recover - i said.

Turning to him i sat beside him taking his shirt to the side to insert the needle on his shoulder. He didn’t move or said anything while i did it. It was only when i was done that he gave me another sarcastic response.

- are you this sweet with your little snake lover too? - he said, trying to provoke another reaction.

- I'm careful with all my patients - i said, the words I chose are important. Anything could trigger a reaction from him and it was a matter of one wrong choice that could change everything.

- Oh... was he the one who did that? - he pointed at my arm covered by the white badge.

- No, he would never do anything to hurt me - i tell him - maybe you should learn some manners with him.

He scoffed.

I watched closely for his reaction at the mention of him and another hybrid like him, it didn’t seem to after him too much and that is a good thing.

The door opened revealing a worried Namjoon. I walked up to him.

- you really have no will to survive - he said to me.

- Sorry, everyone was scared so i did what i do best - i tell him, handing the file to him - i just sadeted him, he is all yours.

- Wait you won’t help me out? - he asked as i turned to leave, seeing as the hybrid as already falling over the bed due to the sedative any worry I had left in me was gone.

Everything would be fine from now.

- I have enough snake problems to resolve.

[…]

Indeed i had enough problems to resolve, after the alert was out i had to head back to all my patients and make sure they were doing fine - especially Jungkook who could've had end up hurt if i didn't show up.

Me and Namjoon were not the only ones who had assignments to deal after the alert, Jin too was called to assist the others and our meeting had to be moved to another hour later.

I just found out then how Yoongi could get even more grumpy under heat suppressants and nothing seemed to ease that grumpiness of his but i was relived to be with him in that moment regardless of his shitty humor, after the deep dive on the new snake hybrid file and uncover another series of mistreatment to another being like Yoongi my own humor had gone down bad blue and gray.

After bringing Yoongi some food i was impressed at how much he behaved like an old man when he's grumpy.

- did you eat everything? - i asked him.

- Yes boss.... - he mumbled, sucking on the red lollipop i gave him in the hopes the sugar would melt a bit of his grumpy humor. It didn't.

Instead he just looked at me bored while lying lazily on the bed, the covers were all over the floor and some were even scratched in pieces.

- were you fighting with the bed? What a mess - I commented. Hearing a grunt from him, i chuckled at his reaction - if you keep behaving like that...

- What? Will you punish me doctor y/n - he said teasingly, sitting over the edge of the bed were i stood up in front of him.

- Yes i will, i won’t give you any kisses - i tell him turning away to leave.

As I expected not a second later he pulled me back by the arm, i watched as he stared up at me much softer than before. This sly snake.

- I'm sorry... - he said, slowly massaging my wrist - i’m feeling moody because of the meds.

- I know, is okay - i gave in, carefully caressing his long hair.

- You'll still give me kisses, right?

- Of course...

I leaned down pressing our lips together in a soft kiss, feeling his smile grow against my lips tasting the sweet flavor of strawberry lollipop on his tongue. He groaned moving his hands up and down my sides slightly pulling me closer but before things got any deeper I quickly leaned back. Making my leave to carry on my assignments, leaving a now less grumpy snake hybrid behind.

We still needed to discus the matters with Jin and tell Namjoon of all that's been going on the past days, I felt bad for hiding it from him for this long but things were certainly not looking good and sometimes it is better to tell the other when you have things figured out so you don't bleed on them.

Thats what i thought at least, while making my way to get in the elevators after messaging Jin about the meeting.

When he gave me his confirmations I quickly left to head to his office.

I knew things would get better for Yoongi from now on and i was hopeful that Jin would win this one against his father, from now we had agreed on keeping an eye on all the hybrids in the clinic to make sure such thing never happens again.

Once i entered Jin's office Namjoon was already there as they shared a brief conversation. I took the seat beside Namjoon in front of Jin's desk as he looked as us both.

- well was is this all about? - Namjoon asked.

- I don't really know were to start.... - Jin said, looking a bit nervous - a few days ago we were here to discuss how you both would be taking care of Yoongis case and now, I'm here to... kinda fill you in why he won’t be put down anymore.

I know that already, but hearing for the first time right now felt more reassuring. I knew yet it felt like it was finally happening, Yoongi was free.

So on Jin begin to tell Namjoon about everything we have kept from him this whole time, how his father passed the case to him to put yoongi down, the first time we treated him and how he researched the files for Yoongi finding out all about his mistreatments.

He told us about how a few days before the mating process start he found his mothers diary and the documents for Yoongis birth, passing them to Namjoon who had the same reaction as me when i found out.

The entire time Jin was he only one talking, i wasn't sure what to expect once he was done though. As much as i was feeling positive i couldn’t ignore the anxiety i was feeling in that moment, i was hoping Namjoon would understand and maybe help us too but i couldn't force him to do that not was i expecting him to accept all of this at first.

The moment Jin told him about them being brothers our relationship was fallowed right after, Namjoon didn’t looked at me in any moment, his entire attention was still on the papers on his hands but i notice how he reacted at the mentioned of me and Yoongi.

- what? - he then said, looking up at Jin.

I swallowed nervously as Jin looked at me with the same feeling.

- i mean... i don't intend to be rude - he continued - this is the first time i heard of such thing.

- so you don't mind? - i asked.

He turned to look into my eyes.

- it's nothing that bothers me, i mean hybrids should be treated fairly like us not like some kind of savages, right?  - he added - i think if that's how you feel about him, i shouldn't judge you. We are friends too.

I was grateful for his words, so far I've been beating myself up over this matter. I couldn't help but wonder if me and Yooongi could ever have a relationship, we were far from normal and completely opposites to one another. But our feelings were mutual, a spark gluing us together.

For now i knew that my friends were together with me and that was very comforting due to our situation, i still have no idea how I'll ever manage a relationship with a hybrid in the clinic. I was sure it wouldn't be possible to maintain such a secret here and even more intimacy, wasn’t exactly comforting to be intimate with Yoongi at the same place i treated others.

It seems that no matter how many obstacles we go through, things never get easy for me and Yoongi to be together in the end something always separates us.

- is that why the mating process was canceled? - Namjoon asked.

- oh, no - Jin quickly replied - i simply don't want to force Yoongi into that, he clearly doesn't seem comfortable with it.

- i see... what will we be doing now then? - Namjoon putted - with him i mean.

- I intend to set Yoongi for adoption.

- what?

I almost gagged at my own saliva at his statement.

- that's what i wanted to discuss with you - Jin stared at me - i dont't want him to stay here any longer. Yoongi has been so much already or years i think is about time he has his own home but since the protocols for hybrids require an adoption document I'll set him for applications.

- a black mamba snake hybrid... it will be difficult to find good people interested - Namjoon comments.

I knew this would come sooner or later. Some of the hybrids here at the clinic are set for adoption application after their full recover, that is green coded hybrids. I couldn't understand why Jin would want to set Yoongi for adoption especially with him being red coded. He needed special care and time for recover to all his mistreatments, not only that but he certainly needed space to be able to have his heat which we had to interrupt for a while.

- are you planning on adopting him then? - i ask.

- oh… no - he said - i don’t think he would want to come with me and part of the process is that is a mutual thing with both sides, even though we are brothers i… wouldn’t want him to feel obligated to accept me just because of that.

- I understand but if you’re setting him for someone else, don't you think is too soon for this? - i asked Jin.

- i know what you're thinking, that's why i want you to apply for his adoption - he said. I could feel my eyeballs almost sprout open at his words.

- me?!

- it makes sense... - Namjoon muttered and i stared at him stupefied - i mean, he only likes you and you like him. Why not?

- i know this might be sudden y/n given how it has been so far but, i ask you to consider this - Jin said softly, eyes locked with mine

- yes, it is very sudden - i tell him - I'll have to think about this first, this is a lot of responsibility.

- I'll be here once you decide.

It mostly is a lot of responsibility, is not only about me but Yoongis well being as well. I can't make such decisions without thinking about this through, i know that Jin trusts me with this because of the relationship i have build with Yoongi and he being his only family is trying his best to help him but i can't do something that would possibly make Yoongi uncomfortable.

It hasn't been long since we've been together, living with one another is much different, sharing the same house together would be something he's never experienced too. I wasn't sure i would be able to meet his needs with my small apartment, certainly being a doctor at the clinic would help a lot with any medical needs he may have but what else would i be able to offer him?

Truth is I'd give him the world if i could but, i can't.

- well count me in to help guys - Namjoon said - but don't keep me out from now on.

He pointed at Jin.

- sorry bro, won't keep you out anymore - Jin said.

- y/n, don't even think about leaving me with that other Snake hybrid of yours - was his turn to point at me now.

The mention immediately reminds me of the piton snake hybrid who was admitted today, Jimin the piton hybrid's definitely seemed like a case new to me. He didn't seem to respect any boundaries and was a extremely trouble maker, from his files i read today there was many cases highlighted of his doings, doctors being hurt by him and many tries to escape that ended with not only the staff hurt but some of the hybrids.

Not only that but his mental state doesn’t seem the best either, i felt deeply concerned for him.

- what? But he is not my patient? - i tell him. I would gladly take the case if it wasn't for Yoongi, he's been very sensitive to all the smells around, i was afraid that if Jimin gets too close and leave some scent he might go off really bad.

- you mean the new snake hybrid, he’s a piton... - Jin adds - if I'm not wrong he hasn't been assigned to a specific doctor yet, if the situations seems favorable y/n would you mind taking him?

- i don't know, Jin...

- i think it could be good for Yoongi, maybe we can introduce them two and see if they can become friend - Jin continues - i think that it would be good for him.

- I understand Jin but, that is something to be discussed more in the future - i tell him - we need to move slower, Yoongi just started to adapt to a new routine and you are already thinking of putting him into adoption process. He's been through a lot, he might need more time to process all of this. He doesn't even know about you.

- oh, you are right... well then let's keep the in mind for the moment but please - Jin looked at me, a soft expression on his face - do think about what i told about his adoption, I'm sure... you are be the best suited to this.

[…]

A few days have gone ever since Jin mentioned about Yoongis adopting process, I haven't gone a single minute without considering all the pros and cons for that, as Jin asked me. I knew he wanted me to carry on that process but, i wasn't sure about it. We haven’t even told Yoongi about that, since it was still something that needed to be worked on and we were not sure how we would react to it, Jin was taking his time with it. But not only for those reasons, i was assuming he was even more busy this week then ever before. He did carry on the matters with his fathers wrong doings, but nothing much could be done besides making him step down from his position at the clinic so Jin could take his place.

Jin mentioned in a meeting about the situation with his father that, he was afraid that by exposing Yoongi and making known how there was a possibility for humans and hybrids to reproduce together would only cause future troubles for the hybrids and the last thing he wanted was for the hybrids to be put on a lab and be tested on again.

I know he only had good intentions and i trusted he did what he could in the situation he was in, for that reason we decided to delete all traces of his mother relation with the hybrid and her pregnancy. All the documents were destroyed to ensure no harm would be done to any hybrid in the future.

I didn't wanted to but, Jimin was in the end passed down for my care. The piton snake himself made the request for Jin the day after he was set in the clinic, from then i knew there was nothing i could do but at the same time i was glad he was showing good signs.

I decided it would be best to talk about it with Yoongi which only made me more nervous about it.

- he's like me? I doubt - he said that time - i don't really care though.

I was perplexed at his unbothered response at first but then I began to wonder if it was only because of the suppressants he's been taking, whatever reason it was it made possible for me to carry on Jimins treatments more closely.

The piton snake was slowly making process, so far he had no episodes of anger his only problem seemed to be he was just a brat, whenever he could he would bother Jungkook the bunny hybrid and I remember Namjoon mentioning that it was because he was a prey hybrid. Jungkook only acted annoyed at Jimins bickering at him, clearly the bunny hybrid was much bigger then the piton hybrid but I wouldn't want to bet on that matter - although i did saw some colleagues betting on them in the lunch room.

Jimins misbehaving got less serious as the days went by, he decided to be extra annoying to me though. He would always send flirting comments to me whenever he could, trying to be cute the second he realized i was seriously unbothered. It was baffling how much he just throws those comments every now and then never missing a chance, i even set him for heat examination but he came clean. He was just dirty minded but a least i knew he wasnt trying to kill anyone here like he would on his past clinics. He did improved a lot and I was glad he was doing better now, after a few days Jimin has proven to me how even code red hybrids could recover if you just give them some time and space to heal after all they too get mentally exhausted.

Jimin was constantly left on open space with other hybrids at his old clinic which to some hybrids can be very overwhelming since some still fell very territorial, i heard from him how some other hybrids would act out because of it but the clinic never did anything about it.

From then he started to open up more to me about his past, i was right about him being mistreated and that made me even more protective of the small piton hybrid. He wouldn’t talk much about himself and i notice how he would quickly brushed off with a flirty comment whenever the conversation went too serious, i was surprised to discover how much of a soft hybrid he was. But it seemed he didn’t liked when people noticed that side of him.

Little by little i would mention to him if he would like to meet with Yoongi, he would usually make some unserious comments and I understand that he wasn’t ready for that in the moment.

A week has gone by since Jins father has stepped down from his position, i could tell things were changing around the clinic evere since. Jin was giving extra attention to every case to ensure that everything was doing fine. Through that time i notice more people coming to the clinic to apply for Yoongis adoption, i was happy more people seemed to be interested in taking him in but I couldn't ignore the bitter feeling it came with it.

I grew worried about it every day that went by, usually when hybrids begin adopting process the director review the documents of the people who applied and after the review a meeting with the people is set for them and the hybrid to meet each other and ensure things go smoothly for both of them.

I was glad Jin was taking this slowly for everything that Yoongi went through and specially since he still doesn't know about this yet it could make things more difficult. The grumpy snake hybrid was still grumpy from the suppressants and we still needed to discuss about his heat, it would be good for the hybrid to hold that much longer.

I knew it would come to a moment were a meeting would be set for him and i became even more anxious, it was selfish of me to think about it this way but just the thought of Yoongi going away set a pinch to my chest so deep it was enough to drive me insane.

I was done dueling on the matter but I had to tell him about it first, before making any decision i needed to let him know his options. I felt the need to let him know that he wasn’t an accessory but a being who had a life and he could make his own choices.

After much thought i decided to tell him at his lunch, but I couldn't make out any words as i just stood there in front of him as he eat his food quietly.

- you've been too quiet - he mentions.

- ah, yes I'm just thinking about something... - nervously replied.

- is it about me? You seem... weird - he said, putting the bowl down beside him. He brushed his hair to the side, dark eyes staring deep into mine as if trying to make out my thoughts.

- i know that it might be too soon... - i begin, sitting down beside him, ignoring his eyes as i stared at the floor bitting into my lower lip - i wanna know your thoughts on... hum… adoption.

- what do you mean by that? - he asks, i feel him move beside me turning to me completely - you wanna adopt? Is it... like a pet? Or...

He didn't continued realizing by my silence exactly what i meant. I sighted.

- Jin set you for adoption a few days ago.... - I blurted out.

- he... what? - he said - why didnt you tell me before? Why am i only finding out now?

- because i... I wanted to ask you first... - i looked up at him nervously, feeling heat creeping up on my cheeks.

Seeing as his dark eyes shined angrily at mine and his eyebrows furred into a thick line, his hair was still a bit wet from his early bath, i could smell the scent of lavender coming from his skin. He grew the habit of closing only the last four bottoms of his silk shirt, exposing his beautiful skin and the scales on his sides and his neck to my eyes. Yoongi knew exactly what he was doing when he let those bottoms opened, it was on purpose and he made that clear a few days ago during one of his bath.

Even under suppressants i realized his desire was just unstoppable and unfortunately for Jin who usually entered the room right when we were sharing a heated kiss, it was not the best scene to be present.

Maybe it was the fact that so many people showed up for Yoongi that made me finally step up, i knew ever since we shared a bite on his mating room I wouldn’t be able to stay away from him anymore and having to balance our relationship in the clinic wasn't enough not was it possible anymore.

- I’ve been meaning to ask you this but i was so nervous, Yoongi... - i tell him honestly - the truth is... ever since Jin brought this up first I've been thinking about it every day...

- what are you trying to tell me y/n? - he said, leaning closer he held my hand in his. - are you trying to say goodbye?

- i.... - i stopped immediately.

How could i even put this into words to him? I was so nervous my hands were shaking, seeing how he seemed to grow sadder i felt desperate.

- i want to adopt you Yoongi.

At my words his face immediately lightens up, eyes staring into my with much surprise.

- you mean... for real? - he was breathless.

- yes, i wanna take you to my home as mine - i tell him.

He immediately pulled me into his arms and i never been held so tightly by him before, i hugged him back softly caressing his hair.

- I'm all yours then... - he murmured in my neck.

My chest was almost exploding in excitement.

[...]

The morning after…

- here -  i said handing Jin the single paper.

- oh, what is it? - he asked, before taking.

- i thought i should hand it to you personally.... - i tell him - i didn’t wanted to waste any time.

He stared at me suspiciously before reading the paper i gave him, I chuckled at his immediate surprise response eyes opening enough to almost pop out off his head then slowly fading into a knowing smile as he looked up at me.

- what took you so long? - he said.

- overthinking maybe?

We both shared a smile before he put the paper down getting into a more serious mood.

- well then... should we discuss the meeting?

- yes, the sooner the better.

I couldn't even begin to believe it. Yoongi would leave this clinic for the first time in his life and it was going to be with me.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. .

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Notes: I’m sorry for any grammatical mistakes 😅😅 and the long wait, is not my best but it’s here. I hope you guys like it. See y’all 💖🙏

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[konigbabe]

steal the thunder - I -

Pairing: Hajime Kashimo x fem!sorcerer!reader Word count: 5.8k Tags/warnings: no y/n; unhinged reader; manga spoilers (Culling Games + Perfect Preparation arcs); fight description; canon-typical violence; there will be eventual smut in the later parts fyi Summary: There's murder in the air – with the Culling Games underway, a simple task of finding an angel turns to a fight for life when you meet a certain, static and 400 years old sorcerer with cyan hair and wicked intentions.

Artwork by poro (poro06625649) on Twittter [source]; divider by @skylightlantern [source] For a better understanding of the reader's CE and CT, visit this Tumblr post.

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There's murder in the air – an unsettling undertone that pollutes the atmosphere. Gentle breeze carrying the metallic fragrance of blood within its currents.

The dockside keeps quiet. Sky clear, devoid of seagull calls. Walking by colossal steel shipping containers, stacked high, the scent persists. Clings to the air like a persistent specter. Each step accompanied by the gentle lap of waves against the pilings, their rhythmic cadence a stark contrast to the horrors you've seen.A soothing lullaby in the midst of chaos.

The maze-like layout of the quayside comes to an end when your muscles strain, lifting off the ground and landing atop the steel structure.

A giant panda comes into view. Its relaxed posture, perched on hindlimbs, contrasts with its impassive countenance as it gazes your way.

"Panda," you address what some might believe to be an actual animal; innocent, cute and completely harmless. Except for this Cursed Corpse – your subordinate – is none of those things.

He fixes you with your very name; a disturbing familiarity in his eyes, then the words escape his lips.

"The smell of blood's so thick," he voices as you draw near, words cutting through the tension. "There must be about three people dismembered here–"

You hold up two fingers, the other hand nestled in your pocket.

"Two actually," you intervene, voice a measured interruption, "walked past a man with a hole the size of a soccer ball in his chest."

The memory resurfaces – the sight of the man, head drooping, neck bent at an unnatural angle. Eerie web-like burns sprawled across his bare flesh. The smell of singed skin and ozone hangs in the air, a pungent reminder. Yet, it's not just that which jolts your senses. It's the residual static of someone's cursed energy, an unsettling presence that lingers.

"But that's not what troubles me," continuing, you stand next to Panda, arms now crossed as both of you watch the lifeless skies, "something bad's here. I tried following the remnants of the cursed energy of the perpetrator but it was very faint."

"Could be an expert who can turn their cursed energy on and off at will…" Panda thinks out loud.

You let the idea sit for a second. Could it be the case? Could someone in this colony be capable of doing it? Known, registered sorcerers are absent here. The majority are newly awakened, scarcely equipped to comprehend a sophisticated notion like this. And why would they feel the need to hide their cursed energy?

No.

Dismissing your doubts, you shake your head and stride toward the edge of the shipping container.

"Don't think so. Nevertheless, we're here to find that angel girl and negotiate with her." Stepping onto the container's edge, unfazed by the high drop; balancing skillfully, you extend one leg over the edge, about to step into empty space. In a seamless motion, you touch down on the solid concrete ground below.

Panda follows suit, rolling off the shipping container with agility, landing right beside you. Then he stands, an odd combination of human-like stance and panda appearance, more akin to a person in a panda costume than an actual animal.

"Our safest bet is to leave the docks. Fast. Just play pretend, avoid any unnecessary conflicts and make it out of this colony in one piec–"

The sentence's left hanging as a sudden shift in the atmosphere catches your attention. Panda falls on all fours, frozen still.

"Ah," a deeper, resonant voice rumbles from your right, the words echoing as the familiar sensation washes over you. A sudden buzz inside your mind, an abrupt surge of awareness regarding another sorcerer's presence. Heart mirroring the rapid flutter of a startled bird's wings.

Their cursed energy, concealed and latent, manages to evoke an almost primal response within you. A sense of fight or flight.

You pivot to face the uninvited presence before you.

A cascade of hair, vivid as a robin's egg and kissed by the hues of a clear summer sky, is gathered into twin buns atop his head while tendrils of untamed locks dance freely in the breeze, resembling a stormy sea. Longer bangs frame the contours of his face, softening his visage.

He stops when his eyes – the same uncanny shade as his hair – bore into yours. Carrying what you'd guess is a Nyoi staff slung over his shoulder, he stands at a slight angle. Excludes casual confidence, a sense of poised readiness.

"Another one," he breaks the silence. You stand your ground in response to his observation.

"Not interested in a fight," you remark, hands risen in a defensive gesture. Yet you don't dare take your eyes off the sorcerer. Ready and composed.

Panda, ostensibly cautious, inches closer to you, fur bristling in sync with his unease towards the newcomer's presence. The air tightens, charged with the unspoken potential for violence.

"Kogane," he calls out to the shikigami, summoning it like a wisp from the aether; the small creature materializes, its hue the shade of a serene lake, light and amicable as it floats near his head, "is the panda a player too?"

The shikigami screeches its answer, its words setting everything in motion.

"Indeed!! A player! Yep!!"

"That's a function," your pondering voice meets a forced silence. The state of perturbed ambiance vanishing as your thoughts are cut off.

A flesh of white. Empty space occupies the spot where the sorcerer was standing less than a second ago.

You sense his presence before your eyes even settle on his countenance; his eyes, framed with short zig-zag lines reminiscent of lightning bolts underneath them, a furious cauldron of murderous excitement as they lock onto yours. They widen with a manic intensity. An undertone of madness lurking deep within their depths.

A predator's gaze fixated on its prey.

In a heart-stopping moment, time stands still. The world around you fades into a blur as a primal instinct takes over. Your body reacts; a precision born of pure reflex – muscles coiled like springs, you counter his attack with a swift and calculated movement.

His volatile energy crackles in the air. Your hands snap up. Fingers attempting to curl around his bandaged forearm. Channeling your cursed energy to your clavicles, the place where his palm lays flat against you –

But your reactions prove inadequate. You're too slow. A shocking speed and heavy push; a surge of force is sent through your body, catching you off-guard. The ground beneath you becomes a temporary adversary. Your balance disrupted as you're sent flying backward.

Back colliding with the hard, metal steel of a shipping container – you watch in horror as the sorcerer mercilessly attacks Panda. Using his staff as a weapon. With unnatural speed and agility, Panda struggles against him; his valiant resistance a testament to his determination, his form a blur of motion as he evades the sorcerer's attacks and manages a few good blows of his own.

Your body feels light. A tingling sensation surging through your veins. Electric current's rushing beneath your skin, setting your pulse racing and your focus to a razor's edge. The metallic taste of blood floods your mouth. Mingles with the adrenaline in your body. Every nerve firing in response to the raw energy pulsing through your body.

It hits you then–

"Heh, electricity," you mumble, the word slipping from your lips as you raise your palms, clenching your fists. Feeling the tingling in the tips of your fingers. The slight buzzing in your ears.

–his cursed energy has a special trait. One certainly hard to defend against.

Barely seconds have passed since your body was forced to rest against the ground. It still feels too long with Panda barely matching the man's speed and force.

Gritting your teeth, the urgency of the situation anchors you, overriding any pain or disorientation as you fight to regain your footing. A sense of pride fills you when you watch Panda use his technique, striking the sorcerer with enough force that'll easily knock him out cold. One of Panda's winning moves.

Except it doesn't.

"Nice one," the man's voice rings out. A taut smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Your teeth clench, disbelief intertwining with unease as you watch. With a predominated precision, the sorcerer maneuvers his staff, entwining it with Panda's arm in a smooth motion that catches you off guard.

Exerting a forceful pull, he forces a grimace from Panda. Right arm caught in the vice-like grip, a sickening crack underscores the moment. Followed by the nauseating sensation of Panda's arm being torn from his body. Violently. And mercilessly.

Panda stumbles. Pain and agony escaping in a cry. The sorcerer doesn't waste a second. Hurls the arm back at Panda, using the momentum to charge forward. Palm aiming flat against his chest, he sends Panda flying backward – the same way he did to you. Causing your junior to experience a similar sensation to yours.

The cyan-haired man straightens, seemingly relaxing, already content with winning the fight.

"But I'm not impressed," he taunts, words an ominous echo of the violence just unleashed, "It's too ordinary."

Feeling the concrete beneath your feet, you take deliberate steps forward. With an inkling of Panda's potential strategy, you expel the pooled blood from your mouth, spitting it onto the ground.

"...Sukuna, you know where he is?" The man's words flow, attention diverted, ignorant of your presence.

A fortunate circumstance.

"No clue," Panda responds. His reply burdened with weariness and defeat; yet his gaze remained fixed on you, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as you position yourself, tension radiating from his weary form.

The sorcerer scoffs; a contemptuous tilt of his head, a gesture laden with superiority. "Sounds like you know something, then," he snarls, his grip on the staff constricting as his fist clenches, "Spit it out. I'll be merciful."

With the sorcerer's back turned you raise your arm. Your gaze remains fixed upon the convergence point of the two delicate lines, their path crossing at the very heart of the expanse that's the upper part of his broad back.

"I won't be," you declare; voice carrying a firm tone. A deft flick of your wrist – the current of cursed energy takes the desired shape before it's hurled toward your target. Slashing the air in front of you, aimed right at him.

His gaze veers to the side. And in a fraction of a heartbeat, he moves; executing a skillful sidestep. Body positioned to face you from the side, both hands now gripping his staff, aiming it at you; a glint of fervor ignites his eyes as they widen, locked onto the shipping container stationed behind Panda. The unforgiving force of your attack rends the shipping container apart, leaving two gaping slashes that could bisect a man.

You don't give him time to react properly.

The moment blood begins to stain his white robe crimson red from the nick on his shoulder, you lunge forward. Like a bull being waved a red flag. Feet imbued with your cursed energy, reinforced to ensure protection.

As you close the distance at a breakneck pace, you sense the distinct composition of his cursed energy. With your fingers curled around the staff, your eyes meet his, a faint grin playing at the corners of your mouth as you tug on his weapon with your full body weight. Lifting your legs off the ground, you use the staff as a fulcrum. His body feels resilient, akin to forged steel, against the soles of your shoes.

With the potency of your cursed technique coursing through your strike, the man is propelled backward, his body hurtling through the air. The Nyoi staff clings to the concrete. Left untouched upon the impact.

Flying through a shipping container, he quickly finds his footing. Stance shifting in response to your aerial maneuver. Legs splayed to establish a firm foundation, you focus your intent on targeting his jaw. Fists charged with cursed energy, you hit once; knowing how troublesome the push-and-pull effect of your technique feels once your flesh makes contact–

"Not bad," he manages to spit out, the corner of his lip stained red. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip as you sprint toward him.

The surroundings blur into a muddled backdrop, irrelevant in your unwavering concentration. The sorcerer becomes the sole axis, a focal point in a world that seems to slow to a crawl, even though only a fraction of a second has passed.

The tip of your foot touches his; a mere whisper of contact between two opposing forces.

"Not bad at all."

–he counterattacks. Hand darts forward. Grabs your wrist. With an economy of motion, he employs your own momentum against you. His grip becomes a pivot, briefly throwing you off-balance, diverting your forward surge into an unexpected spiral.

Fluidity. That's how you'd characterize his movements. A seamless transition from being a passive target to an active agent.

His chest brushes against your back as his right hand remains locked around your right wrist. Single-handedly swinging your body like a marionette, you exploit the vulnerability of your position. Using his grip as leverage to move backward, simultaneously grabbing hold of his bandaged left forearm and pulling. Crashing your body into his, redirecting the movement into a collision.

With a potent surge of intention, you force the prepared rejection and attraction effect within your clenched fist, propelling it like a bolt toward the rear of your skull. Teeth gritted, you throw your head back.

Crack.

He stifles a groan, a step taken back but footing resolute. A red trail paints his nose as you swivel to confront him. Pausing briefly to charge your energy again, you grant him a moment to speak. His expression freezes as he locks eyes with you

"You," he speaks up, his voice textured with the tang of iron as his tongue grazes his lips, "Have we met before?"

With your hand still tingling, the ripples of sensation spread up your arm, an electric current tracing a pattern beneath your skin. Your head sways subtly, dispelling the notion of a previous encounter. "Unlikely. You'd be history."

A chuckle dances from his lips, a response to your retort. "What's your name then?"

You share it deliberately, each syllable a measured beat in your dance around one another. He nods, his head tilting with self-assured grace. It's then that he takes his stance – feet planted firmly, palms outstretched, a grin playing on his lips.

"The name's Hajime Kashimo."

The words hang, a telltale echo–

Hajime Kashimo.

–recognition snaps into place when you repeat his name in your mind.

The Hajime Kashimo, the sorcerer whose score reaches a hundred points; a mark that sets him apart from any other Culling game player (except for the intricate Hiromi Higuruma). Hakari's elusive target.

And here, right before you, stands the man himself.

"Hey," you call out, a new determination blossoming, your stance embracing the challenge; retreat is no longer a consideration, "if I beat you, can I get your points?"

The corners of Kashimo's lips twitch, smile fading like a wisp of smoke carried away by the wind. Expression blank, with only his brows furrowed as he responds, "Sure, but you tell me everything y'know about Sukuna," his voice lowered to a dangerous undertone, a velvet threat veiled in words, "that is–if you're still alive."

He charges then. Doesn't spare a single consideration. The air crackles with tension as his presence engulfs you. His hands make contact – not with fists or strikes – but with the calculated pressure of his open palms. You feel the weight of his touch on your skin. Pressure on your left, then on your right ribcage.

"Don't disappoint me now," breath tickles your ear, voice a tantalizing, dangerous melody. His fingers anchor firmly onto your right shoulder, an assertive grip that both commands and unsettles, while his other hand exerts a calculated force on your left shoulder guard, propelling you into a spin.

Your training surges forth, a symphony of muscle memory and instinct harmonizing within you. With the resilience born of countless battles, you swiftly adapt your stance, shifting your weight to face him.

An annoyed huff leaves your now-bruised lips. You channel your own cursed energy, a torrent of power surging through your veins.

Detain an attack when it comes,–

Knees bending, body swaying to evade the incoming fist; your left hand grips his left wrist, fingers tightening with determination, followed by your right driving into its intended mark.

–and send it away when it retreats.

Your palm meets the solid plane of his chest with a resonant thud; pushes and then pulls him back to you before sending him away again; successfully pushing back against Kashimo's pressure. It's a momentary reprieve. One that sends the sorcerer tumbling back, makes him roll on the ground, lending on one knee.

"Here I thought we were just getting started," you quip with a hint of playfulness amidst the dance of combat. Moving swiftly towards the target. As Kashimo's force ebbs, you seize the opportunity, your muscles coiling like springs.

"You're getting me–" he barely makes it back to his feet before you're at him again. With enough cursed energy imbued into your foot, utilizing the momentum of your motion, leg rising up in a calculated kick – only for Kashimo to shift; a fraction of movement that proves decisive. His arm weaves beneath the arc of your thigh, a sinuous and serpentine maneuver that seeks to entwine and subdue. As his grasp tightens, his fingers snake around your throat, lifting you from the ground, suspending you momentarily.

"–quite excited," he concludes, his voice tinged with an eerie excitement.

Once the hand is freed from contact,–

A heartbeat's pause feels like an eternity. With your legs rendered weightless and no stable ground beneath you. Despite the vulnerable position, your mind remains steadfast, honing in on Kashimo's Achilles heel. His hands are preoccupied, his grasp unwavering but his neck and face exposed.

–carry out a strike with it.

Seizing the opportunity, you make the most of the opening. Your palms press against the sharp contours of his cheeks, each hand finding its place on one side of his face. In one swift and deliberate motion, you channel the wellspring of cursed energy that resides within you into your technique. The currents of your energy converge between your palms, weaving a tapestry of arcane force that manifests as a palpable vacuum, centered precisely where his head rests.

It's an intentional manipulation. One – if done right, that is – could even lead to a cataclysmic implosion. A violent severing of life from the body. But you don't want to kill him; not yet at least. You need the points. And so, you temper your approach, exerting only the necessary amount of energy to induce a sensation of compression.

As the feeling envelops him, Kashimo's expression shifts, a flicker of realization that dances within his eyes. He instinctively withdraws. Bandaged forearms push at your body, sending you hurtling backward; a testament to his strength and strategic finesse.

"You cheeky little thing," a bead of blood traces a path from the corner of his eye. At the same time, another droplet emerges from his nose.

This time it's him who doesn't let you regain enough control as he charges at you. His approach swift and unrelenting. The tables are constantly turning – now being his time to dictate the tempo.

Another dance of offense and defense plays out as the two of you clash once again. Each move a deliberate response to the other's actions.

Chase the movement of the opponent–

As the flurry of his strikes slices through the air, you find yourself navigating the ebb and flow with a synchronicity that borders on the sublime. With a hawk-like focus, you track the trajectory of his hand, your senses attuned to his every motion.

While his hits continue to swing through both empty space and meeting your body, a fleeting opportunity presents itself. With the precision of a seasoned sorcerer, you follow the path of his hand with your own, fingers closing around his forearm as it narrowly misses your cheekbone, the other digging into the open slash wound on his shoulder.

–to continue the attack.

It earns you a hiss. A "Tsk," coming from his damaged lips.

One fluid motion; one that belies your strength. You capitalize on the momentum of his own swing, utilizing your grip to exert control. Your foot surges forward with unbridled force, the sole of your shoe connecting with the vulnerable juncture of his knee.

Kashimo's reflexes kick in as he instinctively leaps back the moment your foot makes contact with his leg. His visage bears the marks of battle, a canvas adorned with streaks of red, the vestiges of blood from the prior exchange. A mirror to his appearance, your own face likely reflects a similar narrative. Marked by the intensity of the confrontation. By his pure, physical prowess. One that, even if you use all your cursed energy, you're certain you couldn't match.

The shadows of weariness begin to cast their subtle touch on you. A weight that tempers your movements and shadows the clarity of your thoughts. Each calculated step, each strategic strike, seems to bear an additional burden now.

Still, resolute, your unwavering determination fixated on Kashimo, persevering in the face of creeping exhaustion.

Then you take off.

With a surge of action, you propel yourself into motion. Pivoting on your heel, you sprint toward the towering container crane a mere few meters behind. Kashimo's quick thinking registers in the corner of your vision—a flash of white on your right, drawing nearer.

"Running so soon?"

His taunting words reach you.

"Just limbering up," you reply. Muscles tensing, you feel his energy almost brushing against your own. So, with a leap, you vault into the air. Fingers curling around your ankle.

Time seems to slow as Kashimo's grip tightens around your ankle, his fingers like a vice attempting to anchor you to the ground. The world spins around you, the crane's towering structure becoming a blur as your body is abruptly yanked back, denied the freedom of flight.

Instinct kicks in, your mind racing to find a solution. With a swift twist of your body, you channel the energy within, your cursed power surging to your fingertips. A burst of force courses through your arm, the concentrated energy propelling your free leg forward in a powerful kick. Your heel connects with Kashimo's face, the impact forcing his grip to release.

In the split second of regained freedom, your body soars toward the container crane.

Muscles strained, you manage to grab hold of a protruding metal edge, fingers gripping with an iron determination. The harsh clang of metal meeting metal reverberates through the air as your body comes to a halt, swinging slightly from the momentum before you propel yourself higher onto the structure.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. The distance between you and Kashimo now a tangible reminder of your evasion. His frustrated gaze meets yours, the tension between you electric and palpable.

"Nice try," you retort, voice laced with a mixture of weariness and defiance. There's an undeniable satisfaction in defying his grasp, in proving your prowess even amid exhaustion. Without wasting a moment longer, you hoist yourself up more, using the crane's structure to propel your body upward. Your form melds with the steel as you ascend, a maneuver to gain the vantage point.

Gotta limit his movement to the minimum.

Kashimo's expression shifts, a glint of admiration piercing through his irritation. "Impressive," he concedes, the words carrying an unexpected note of respect, "but you can't run from me."

He follows your lead. The two of you ascending the crane in a synchronized rhythm

"I told you, Kashimo–," you declare, your voice echoing between the steel beams as you reach the crane's zenith, standing face to face on the narrowest edge.

Now standing face to face on the crane's uppermost beam, the narrow back reach providing only small support. Your breath heaves, each inhalation a reminder of the intense exertion. Across from you, Kashimo's gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression deceptively relaxed.

"–that I'm only stretching."

His eyes, however, tell a different story – a depth of focus that cuts through your form. Anchoring onto you with an unwavering intensity.

A mournful melody weaves through the metal lattice, the wind's haunting whistle creating an eerie harmony with the tension in the air. The gusts playfully tousle both your hair in the process. You steady yourself into a stance, your body a testament to both resilience and purpose.

"Plus I want those points," you remark, a hint of determination coloring your words.

It's then that you charge — cursed energy flowing through your body like currents of compressed emptiness. A void. Unyielding. Relentless. And pneumatic.

With a flick of your wrist, you send it slicing through the air. A blade of nothing. A thin line etches across his chest, traversing from ribcage to his already wounded shoulder — a mark of your earlier endeavor. Nowhere to dodge now that he's standing between two metal beams.

Or so you thought.

Kashimo charges. The white of his robe tainted with scarlet. The cut isn't deep.

He must've reinforced his cursed energy.

"Tsk," you utter. A flicker of irritation crosses your features. Agitated. With waning stamina, the dwindling reservoir of cursed energy depleted by your previous usage; this could've been your last-ditch effort.

The final move.

And it failed.

It makes him smile. A sinister twist of lips that morphs into a grin. Moving fast, his expression resembles one of a predator closing in on its prey. The ruby stain on his robe seems to accentuate his aura of danger, a stark contrast to the pristine white it once was.

As your body contorts and arches backward, you skillfully evade the incoming fist aimed at your face. Your unwavering gaze remains locked onto his intense stare. With your palm pressed flat against the ground of the crane, you swiftly raise your leg, delivering a targeted strike to the meat of his thigh.

But before your maneuver can fully unfold, his hand seizes your ankle, pulling you towards him and locking your leg in place as he maneuvers over your body. Kashimo's grin widens, a predatory glint in his eyes that triggers a ripple of unease down your spine.

As his fist whizzes past your face, you seize the opportune moment to mount a counterattack. His fingers, still harshly locked around your right ankle, you push and pull against his grasp. Leg successfully moving to close over his thigh, the other hooking around his hip.

Legs now firmly encircling his waist, you use every ounce of your strength to push. Destabilize the sorcerer. Break his foundation. Disrupt his equilibrium.

The outcome? Both of you soaring through the air and down the crane. Kashimo's form aligns perfectly with the approaching solidity of the dockside concrete.

A rapid free fall, gravity's pull unrelenting.

If you're not getting the points, he's not getting his answers either.

His eyes momentarily flit to the ground below. Unspoken recognition of the shared peril that binds you both. The realization dawns in his eyes, widening them momentarily, before his gaze settles onto your face once more – unimpressed. Jaded.

"Oops," you jest under your breath, fingers finding purchase on the fabric of his torn clothes. An unhinged smile on your lips, eyebrows lifting in a mix of audacity and exhilaration. The wind sweeps through, rustling your hair with a cool caress that contrasts starkly with the warm stickiness of blood on your skin.

"It's accumulated enough."

That's the only forewarning you get. In an instant, the atmosphere shifts; an electrifying tension that dances along your skin. You sense the already familiar tingling as the static charges from the man beneath you. Kashimo's cursed energy now gaining intensity.

His open hand thrusts towards your face, a surge of energy gathering at his fingertips. Only to get countered by your own palm. Flat against each other. Forcing a focal point of energy converges and resistance to form. As the push effect comes into play just in time with waves of electricity.

The crackling intensity escalates, its tendrils reaching out with an insatiable hunger. Only to be pushed back by your own manipulation acting as a steadfast wall. It's a symphony of sensations — the tingling of your skin, the hum of power in the air, the gradual crescendo of pressure between your palms. The vortex throbs and pulses, a living embodiment of the forces you both wield.

The thing is – The conductivity of the vacuum…depending on how you look at it, it behaves in two different ways:

Firstly, when you examine the motion of charged particles with a constant velocity within a vacuum, you encounter an interesting phenomenon. Unlike in other mediums, there is no opposing force acting against these particles. Consequently, maintaining a steady current across any surface within a vacuum demands no additional effort.

However, a contrasting phenomenon manifests when we consider the existence of free charges within conductors. When an electric field, denoted as E, is imposed upon a conductor, it triggers a flow of electric current. This internal charge movement gives rise to a current density described by the equation: J = σE, where σ symbolizes the conductivity of the material. Notably, within a vacuum, σ assumes a value of 0; hence, electric fields lack the capacity to spontaneously induce current flow.

In this context, the vacuum departs from the role of a conductor. Even materials known as insulators, which typically restrict the flow of current, possess conductivity values that are low but not completely absent.

As a result, the resistance exhibited by a vacuum effectively amounts to infinity—particularly when you define resistance through the lens of how charge carriers in a substance respond. Viewed from this perspective, you could liken the vacuum to an insulator, given the absence of charge carriers that are essential for the propagation of electric current.

So in the end, your innate ability functions like an antistatic force.

It should be enough to counter his attack. Neutralizing his endeavor and ricocheting it back to him. Only if his other hand, clenched into a fist, suddenly hasn't entered your line of sight, aiming for your jaw.

The controlled push-only effect falters. Then crumbles. The void's pull reclaims all that Kashimo had imparted, drawing it back with an insatiable greed.

"Damn you." It now comes down to the last aspect of your technique.

Implosion.

The energies within your vacuum field converge, collapsing inwards with a blinding intensity. A jarring impact against the back of your head – or it might be the ending of your fall. Everything's just confusing. Everything blurs into a disorienting haze of continuous events.

The unforgiving touch of concrete grates against your scraped back. Each breath, now shallow and ragged, causes pain.

Above, the sky stretches wide and boundless. Until the sight is blocked by a mop of cerulean blue hair. Two buns somehow still in place. Same-colored eyes staring at your form. Arms folded and a countenance marred by bloodstains and scrapes. Each leg positioned on either side of your hips before one presses against the flat of your clavicles.

"You're quite durable," Kashimo retorts, pushing his weight down on you, "that should've killed you right there."

"Heh," you manage a wry chuckle, your voice strained but defiant, "guess I'm full of surprises."

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of almost-amusement dancing in his eyes. The world around you seems to blur at the edges, the strain of the plummet combined with the failed attempt of your innate technique taking a heavy toll on your senses.

"It's been a while since I've encountered someone who can keep me on my toes this long. Now tell me," your name rolls off his tongue in a taunting lilt, "where's Sukuna?"

The distant sounds of the dockside begin to fade, replaced by an eerie emptiness. Despite your unwavering determination, a tide of dizziness threatens to engulf you, and you struggle to maintain your focus on Kashimo's face.

"On vaca–"

The weight on your chest vanishes abruptly. Kashimo's foot makes fleeting contact with your cheek before returning to its original place.

"Don't play with me. Spit it out."

"Oi," a voice calls to your right. A voice you know; Hakari's, "It's not very chivalrous to strike a lady like that."

From here, everything dissolves into darkness.

The world sways, a disorienting dance of shadows and sensations. Light pressure settles on your stomach with sounds echoing faintly in the distance. A gentle, steady rhythm envelops you as if you're being cradled in a cocoon of safety. Your limbs feel weightless, as though the ground beneath you has transformed into a soft cloud that carries your burdens away.

Your mind struggles to tether itself to the present, grappling with the fragments of consciousness that slip through your grasp. Colors blur, merging into a hazy kaleidoscope of fleeting images. The arms that encircle you exude warmth thought. One that lulls you back to sleep.

Yet you manage to summon the strength to part your heavy eyelids. Through the haze, you see a blur of black and white on top of you. Head resting upon something firm and solid – a breastplate, you realize. The rhythmic cadence that envelops you is accompanied by the subtle rise and fall of breath, a heartbeat that resonates beneath your cheek.

"Panda," you murmur, voice a tentative whisper as you attempt to comprehend whether or not you're dreaming, considering the creature on you is now a size of an actual teddy bear.

The toy-sized Panda remains seated on you but looks your way, emitting a surprised yelp at the sound of your voice, before swiftly turning his gaze forward again, "Hakari, she's awake!"

Your vision – still blurred – manages to trace a figure walking at the edge of your peripheral sight – left arm missing, shirt gone (he's shirtless, you discern), and crowned with purple hair. Hakari. But if Hakari's walking in front of you. Then…

Lifting your eyes, you suddenly lock onto a fleeting sight of vibrant cyan hair. The once-pristine white attire now soaked and marred with splotches of vivid red, creating an unsettling contrast. Your heart skips a beat as the realization dawns upon you.

It's Kashimo who bears the weight of your limp form.

"She's gonna pass out soon again," his voice carries vibrations that travel from his chest to your cheek with his gaze fixed upon you.

And he's right as your body, weary and battered, succumbs once more to the embrace of slumber.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi! I started listening to Chappell Roan after seeing a post about her on your blog, and now I'm obsessed. Could you please give me some more music recommendations? Thanks!!!

god I love this. no further specifications, just carte blanche to go hogwild and recommend anything.

you didn't even ask for any structure but I'm nothing if not constantly looking for an excuse to be extra, so I've provided one tangentially thematically related recommendation for almost song on Midwest Princess (not all of them, tumblr won't let me do more than ten audio links booo)

Femininomenon 🏍️

listen, girlies: we're NEVER going to have a femininomenon if we can't even stop talking about these mediocre boys. move along! forget about them!

Red Wine Supernova 🍷

the theme is being so horny it changes how your brain is wired.

After Midnight 💃

mom doesn't like you wearing that dress and red lipstick and dad doesn't like you bleaching your hair, but what if you just had fun?

Casual 🧜🏽‍♀️

so, you've escaped an unbearable situationship.

Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl 🛸

this is a song for the guy with the fugly jeans who didn't ask you a single question and won't dance

HOT TO GO! 🍟

I'd like to think serpentwithfeet is getting closer than those damn gloves in the same club where Chappell is trying to get to hot hands on her body. gay hands cinematic universe.

My Kink Is Karma 😈

is sitting back watching them ruin their own life not enough anymore? get proactive!

Kaleidoscope ✨

so. the relationship got Weird and now nothing will ever be the same :/

Pink Pony Club 🐎

the queer country king himself. incidentally I would KILL for Orville Peck to cover Pink Pony Club.

Guilty Pleasure 🚬

Chappell said we could go to hell but we'll probably be fine; Rina said this hell is better with you. songs for queer girlies who aren't scared of the devil, you know what I mean?

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

The Witness and Why It (and its demise) Means Everything to Me (A POC Perspective)

Hey everyone!! The Final Shape has ruined me and has brought me to levels of not only grief, but hope, that I did not think possible, so I decided to give my thoughts on the different aspects of it that moved me to a place where I can be at peace with many things in my life and look forward to paving a better future!!! I think I’ll be making many posts pertaining to the Final Shape as a way to help me express my thoughts on how important this DLC was to me, but we will see!

Please note that these are just my loose, not fully structured thoughts and I’m yapping. My opinions are subject to change and I’d love to hear the input of others! We will be talking about subjects such as slavery, religion, black experiences, and personal experiences of mine!!! It’s very long too, so I’m sorry about that and any writing errors!!

Though I do not believe what I speak of was fully Bungie’s intentions when making the character, the implications and views you can take on the Witness do relate to what I will discuss.

I wanted to start off my return to tumblr with one of the many, many reasons why I have such a deep attachment to the Witness (Precursors and Dissenters will get a different post bc they mean the world to me too!!) , because truly, this entity owns my whole life. I think of it all the time, it lingers in my thoughts, my art, my writing, all of it. It has been so deeply intertwined with my enjoyment of Destiny since it appeared and has offered so much to my perception of the world. I do not think I will truly get over it and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t draw it every chance I get. It appears in every single thought of mine, it’s bad you guys.

I love the Witness so deeply because I have never harbored such a personal level of DISGUST for a character before. As much as I joke about it being silly and the love of my life, the very existence of the Witness revolts me to the core and the tragedies it has directly or indirectly caused squeeze my heart empty. This festering rot of an egregore SICKENS me as it is the beliefs that has robbed me and many others of family, culture, and livelihoods given form. My love for the Witness comes from how it instills in me such HATRED, and truly, we were far too kind to it in game.

For context, I am Caribbean American and have a tumultuous relationship with my heritage for many reasons, but it wasn’t until the Witness and its many victims that I felt like the religious imperialism that has affected my heritage was represented in a way that crept into my spirit.

My Caribbean mother always said to me that we are of this world, not in it. That the hearts of men are wicked and sin (cruelty) was embedded in existence itself. It is only when we give ourselves to a higher purpose that we will be free in the end from all suffering. To her, this life and everything in it did not truly matter for it was a temporary challenge to overcome in order to earn an eternity of salvation. A perfect paradise was awaiting us all if we just gave into the way and left everything else behind.

These were all convictions she held to her very core as she tried to shed away all other aspects of herself to give into this “truth”, especially her Caribbean culture.

She did not always believe this way, but to her, the island she came from did not truly matter at all. Those “wayward people” she grew up with were not worth anything and would die as nobodies on that nowhere island for their lives were not saved, even if they knew of the “truth”. In her adopted views, those people believed in false gods and practices (such as Vodou and beliefs that belonged to those taken from Africa and indigenous populations), they invited in frivolous wants of the flesh such as lust (with „improper“ attire and certain dances), and committed crimes that proved to her that they could never be anything more than what they already were (though she would be blinded to the fact that these behaviors are a result of hostile environments created by the systems established for slavery and racial subjugation). If she wanted to be fit for “walking the right path”, those people had to be left behind for they were lost causes who could not be saved unless they were delivered by the “respectable” ways of life. She had to discard her black mannerisms, hair, speech, and more to have a place amongst the truly chosen.

Religious imperialism has a long history of being heavily tied to discussions of race and colonialism as those who participated in subjugation believed themselves to be more enlightened than the people they brought devastation to, giving them an entitlement that drove them to force their way of viewing religion onto populations. After all, in their minds, they were doing the greatest good for they were setting the people they subjugated on a path for eternal paradise. There was no cost too high in this finite life for infinite salvation to colonizers and all efforts to convert populations who did not see this truth would be “necessary”. People would die or be forced into servitude in mass to support the ambitions of the “enlightened” ones, whole cultures and populations being scrubbed from the face of this Earth in an attempt to “heal what is sick”, to “break broken bones again to heal them right”. I think of all the generations lost to war, slavery, colonialism, and every other act done to deliver “purpose” onto others, all the people whose names will never be known because others used the breath needed to utter it on preaching of their own virtue, and I am left in ruin.

I think of how my mother speaks of those lost to destitute lives because of the social pillaging of the island as an unfortunate side effect of guiding them to the truth and I look at how her world view has been ruined.

My mother thought she was saving me by keeping me from my culture, my people, my family. I did not get to know the language, the customs, the land, but I did get to know how much my mother thought those were distractions. She spent my whole life trying to cement the truths given to her by the same people who left her island in such as state that she felt like she had to run from it, to ensure I would not grow into a person, but a vessel of the righteous message. After all, to be a person is to be complex, nuanced, and flawed and there was no room for that in the visions given to her. The complexities and human flaws that came with our culture would only distract us from giving our whole lives to freeing ourselves from the curse of existence.

The cruelty the Witness delivers with such gentleness as it razes civilizations, its unwavering belief that it is the objective truth and other perspectives are blind to this truth, the means it will use to get that “justified” end, its gut wrenching to me and all that has been lost throughout human history to ideologies that bear the same qualities. Its zealous, static nature that relies on circular reasoning keeps me up at night and makes me mourn what could have been if the unfamiliar and hard to understand parts of human expression were allowed to flourish instead of being eradicated for diverging from someone’s vision of what makes a life worth living. I see this big eyed vessel, incapable of growth and convinced of its own righteousness and my chest feels like it is going to cave in. I see its disciples and pawns in the faces of too many people I know and recall their stories in moments that remind me how poisonous what the Witness represents is.

The Witness is an evil that has hollowed out lives, homes, land, and futures, especially for those who come from heritages that have persevered against attempts to “rectify” them. I still grieve the empty life my mother lives and the people left to suffer the consequences of daring to create their own meaning. I look at the face of the Witness and think of the “burdens lifted off my mother’s shoulders” by those who thought themselves as witnesses of a truth that could not be contested with interpretations that could not be questioned. She prides herself on being a weapon wielded to correct the sinful hearts of men, but I just wish she prided herself on being a person because those who “delivered” her robbed people of color of personhood entirely.

The Witness is not a person, but the embodiment of these deeply rooted ideologies and concepts that affect so many. It’s horror, both in game and the parallels it has in reality, is far too grand and unfathomable for me to bear its weight on my soul and not agonize. Its very existence is monstrous, despite the understandable intentions that went into its making, and my stomach churns at the mere thought of it.

How many species in the Destiny universe will we never know about because their whole galaxy was used to get closer to the Final Shape? How many star systems were left barren because of the Witness’ ambitions? How many children, spouses, artists, philosophers, siblings, neighbors, and more, people who were something, became nothing because of eons of the Witness‘ justifications? Bile boils just thinking of it.

What the Witness represents has hung over my head my whole life and its perverse touch lingers on the whole Destiny universe, tracing many of the depraved atrocities in the game back to itself. It’s death in the Final Shape, at the hands of those it had turned into victims and left to deal with the repercussions of its influence united together, moved me in ways I do not think I could ever properly articulate. To see beloved characters I had given a decade of my life to come together from different backgrounds with different reasons to defeat such a heinous entity, I felt like I could do my part to bring others together, despite our struggles and differences, to rebuild what had been taken from us.

As a person of color from a group of people many still think are undeserving of life, seeing so many characters I have related to over the years say “I matter because I decided to and you can’t take that away from me” to an entity who thought itself so refined that it got to determine everyone’s worth strengthened my entire being. Existing as a person of color is bold in and of itself, but the defeat of the Witness at the hands of people who wanted to exist so bad they risked everything for it ignited in me a flame to be audacious. My existence and culture as a poc is unsightly and heretical, but TFS encouraged me to take on the prejudices of others by saying “Here, despite generations being molded into a “perfect” image and so many lives lost in the struggle to live personal truths, ergo sum. Ergo sum and there is nothing wrong with that”.

To me, the Witness’ death showed me that the stains left behind by social structures such as religious imperialism and colonialism can be overcome by people banding together to make the future different from the past. When we embrace the subjectivity of existence, we can create spaces for different views on life to flourish and reconnect with the nuances of this world. We can better the lives of our people, no matter who they are, not by abandoning all cultural practices and ways of life that were deemed meaningless, but by rebuilding our societies to allow for fulfilling lives and self efficacy for all.

My people no longer have to let imperial powers decide our fate for us or decide that we can be nothing other than the „nature of our race“ that they believe is inferior. Instead of looking up at others who asserted themselves as more enlightened for salvation, we can look at each other and realize there is no one truth to life, especially one worth all the devastation and cruelty placed against those who lived differently. The intricacies of life often lead people to belief systems that allow for comfort and understanding, alleviating the anxiety of possibly living an improper life that will forfeit a desirable afterlife. It is up to individuals to decide what makes their life fulfilling and what beliefs will guide their actions, for no one can make your fate but you.

My mother still likes to wear the patterns of the island and keeps paintings of island scenery in her room. She talks on the phone in patois when she doesn’t feel the pressure to be “proper”. She misses her mother because she used to make dishes from home. To relate it to Destiny, she still has the coordinates to her Lubrae in her pyramid despite convincing herself abandoning it all was for the best and there was nothing there worth keeping. I once thought reconnecting with our heritage alongside her would be a frivolous endeavor, but I hope that with time and understanding, the Witness may not have power over her anymore and she won’t look back on her disassociation with relief. Time and understanding will make our island grow and flourish, free to decide what it wants to be, not held back by preconceived notions of the worth of its existence.

Despite all the Witnesses in the world, I will persist on and try to acquaint myself with my culture without shame. The Witness is everything to me because I hope one day it desecrates nothing ever again. I hope the Witness becomes nothing at all and the cultures it has corrupted make themselves something audacious.

Thank you guys so much for reading!! I hope you guys don’t mind the vague language, I chose to spare some details for my own sake and to make the message more applicable!! I’d love to hear the takes of other people about this bc I love hearing people’s perspectives!! And always remember, no one makes your fate but you!!! Go be audacious!!!!

[florencemtrash]

Hummingbird: Chapter Two

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Masterlist

Miguel grumbled, furiously trying to rub away the oncoming headache as the newly updated Spider-Gang continued to berate him. Jessica only leaned forward on her motorcycle, smirking at the sight of his towering figure surrounded by teenagers.

Gwen prodded him with a pointed finger, “What the hell, Miguel! I can’t believe you-”

“We trusted you and-”

“So what now you’re just on our side like some-” 

Miles’s palms sparked threateningly, “You were going to let my Dad die!”

“Hold the baby, Migs.” Peter tried in vain to shove a babbling Mayday into his hands, “She’s going to make you feel so much better.”

“You and I are gonna have some serious fisticuffs you turtle-”

“You let the power get to your head like some capitalistic-”

Peni’s robot chittered angrily.

“Ok, ok, OK!” Miguel yelled, “Everyone just QUIET!” Turning on his heels so that his broad shoulders blocked out the skyline, he began to mutter, “Dios mío. ¿Qué estoy haciendo? Estos niños me van a matar. Mierda.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the words that were about to leave his mouth.

“I messed up.” he murmured under his breath.

Hobie propped himself up against his guitar, “Sorry bruv, don’t think I heard you ri-”

“I MESSED UP!” Miguel shouted, throwing his hands up in his air. Everyone except Hobie and Miles took a step back. This was the closest thing to an apology any of them could hope to get, and far more than they were expecting to hear from him. “Now in case you’ve forgotten, we still have an imminent multiversal collapse on our hands!” 

“Very imminent,” Lyla said, floating on her back and propping her holographic feet up on Miguel’s shoulder.

Miles stepped forward in the silence, all eyes on him. 

He still had to tilt his head up to meet Miguel’s eyes, but he didn’t feel small. No. He wasn’t small. He wasn’t weak. He was Spider-Man, and together they were going to fix this.

“I still don’t like you but,” he stuck out his hand, “Welcome to the Spider-Gang, Miguel.” 

>>>

“Lyla, take a scan of the-” Gwen spun out of a wormhole, crashing into his side.

“Sorry!” A web shot out of her wrist, pulling her towards the skylight as Miles flipped across the room in a red and black blur.

“Spot, please!” Miles’s voice bounced around the room, sound waves rippling out from a hundred spots at once, “You don’t have to do this.”

Lyla flickered to life on Miguel’s shoulder, a holographic lollipop sticking out the corner of her mouth, “I’m on it!” 

Miguel caught himself on the wall, blades screeching on metal as a dozen more spots popped into existence around him. Rain pelted him from all sides, distracting him long enough for the hub of a cop car to fly out and flatten him against the wall. 

The Spot dipped in and out of the ground, basking in the remnants of the Super-Collider and swallowing up bits and pieces of metal and granite in the process. Wormholes had already started to crop up all around New York, threatening the destruction of buildings as cars and trains suddenly found themselves hundreds of feet above the ground.

“It’s a proper mess out here mates,” Hobie’s voice called out from Miguel’s watch, followed by the shattering of glass, “How much longer is this going to take?”

“I just need fifteen more minutes,” Margo said. A crash sounded in the background along with Jessica’s colorful words, “... maybe twenty.” 

“We don’t have twenty minutes,” Miguel grunted, flinging his body across the room. He strung his webs around a battered console, whipping it around and aiming it directly at the Spot. He only chuckled, lifting his hand and opening a portal. The console smashed into Miguel’s back, sending him crashing to the ground.

Lyla pulled the lollipop out of her mouth with an audible pop! “Scan of the room’s complete. You’re in luck! You’ve got about 17 minutes before the structural integrity of the building goes kaput, starting with the northwest corner.” Her finger glitched as she pointed. 

Joder.

“Guys no. I can do this.” Miles said, his voice tight with effort as he continued to jump around the room, whipping metal at the Spot to distract him long enough to swing to safety. He could make the Spot see reason. He had to.

Margo and Jessica scrambled about the control room three stories up, Margo’s virtual reality body glitching from anxiety as she threaded wires together and fumbled around on the computers in the control room. This dimension’s technology was ancient compared to hers and she was finding it hard to make the adjustment. 

“You really think that would work?” She asked Miles. They all stood side by side atop Alchemax, staring down into the remnants of the Super-Collider where the Spot floated around aimlessly in a pool of black ether. Every so often Margo was certain she could see visions of other dimensions poking through the fabric of spacetime - A baseball game, an explosion, a thousand ships cruising past a desert planet.

“He got his powers using the Super Collider,” Miles reasoned, “Absorbed dark matter energy from countless universes. Reverse the process and we might be able to send it all back to their original dimensions.”

“Leaving him powerless.” Hobie finished, shoving his hands into his jacket and nodding, “I like it.” 

“It’ll be a large scale Go-Home-Machine.” Margo murmured, nodding in understanding as the plan fell into place.

“But you gotta let me talk to him first.” Miles narrowed a pointed glare at Miguel. “Let me make him see reason. End this before it even begins.”

“Are you joking? That’s too risky.” Miguel growled out.

“This could kill him!”

“Oh come on, Miguel, give Miles a chance!” Pavitr had to balance on the tip of his toes to sling an arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “He’s Spider-Man! This will be easy for him! Use that charm and compassion and-”

“Fine.” Miguel said, shrugging Pavitr off, “We’ll try it your way.”

The Spot walked forward menacingly, noting with pride how Miles backed away, hands lifted up in front of him, “So now you want to talk?” 

“Listen, Jonathan - it’s Jonathan, right? - We don’t have to do this. I’m sorry I made fun of you before. I’m sorry that I disregarded you after everything you’ve been through. But you have to understand what you’re doing. This is going to destroy everything. Everything. The universe, the multiverse, all of it. You’ve got the power to-”

“There’s no Jonathan anymore, only the Spot. You still think I’m joking don’t you? You still think we’re going to make up after a grand old speech - that you’re going to save me. Well it’s too late for that, kid.” 

He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, a portal opening to his left. Someone tumbled out wearing a paint stained Brooklyn Visions Academy sweatshirt. 

Miguel’s heart stopped beating. 

He would recognize you anywhere - in any universe.

“Y/n?” he breathed out. 

“Let’s see how good you really are, Spider-Man.” He snapped his fingers again and a portal opened up beneath your feet. The last thing you heard was the Spot's laughter as you began to fall from the sky.

“NO!” Miguel sprang into action, red laser webs flinging out to the walls as he threw himself into the air. 

“Nuh uh.” The Spot shook his finger, throwing a spot at Miguel and portaling him away, “No help! That’s cheating.” 

Miles sprinted up the walls, tracking the small dot of your figure as you flailed about wildly more than two hundred feet up, desperately trying to straighten your arms and slow your fall. The wind carried your screams away.

He dove towards a spot, arms and legs tucked in straight as an arrow after seeing your sprawling form fall past the wormhole, and re-emerged just above you. With a quick flick of the wrist he caught you, throwing out webs wildly towards the neighboring buildings in a desperate bid to slow your fall. The strands held on for as long as they could, slowing your descent before finally snapping from the tension. 

“Hold on!” He yelled over the wind as the last web broke. The voice sounded familiar. 

You both hurtled through the skeleton of a window before landing and rolling onto the floor of the one of Alchemax lab rooms, the faint smell of chlorine and formaldehyde still clinging to the air.

You pushed yourself onto your knees, prepared to kiss the solid ground beneath you.

“Miss Y/l/n?!” Miles’s jaw dropped, eyes as round as dinner plates. 

You perked your head up, momentarily forgetting your near death experience.

“Miles?!” 

“Oh crap,” he cleared his throat, dropping his voice an octave, “Um, who’s Miles?” 

“What the hell are you doing here? Do your parents know about this? Is this why you’ve been skipping classes? Who let you do this without adult supervision?!” You grabbed him by the shoulder, shaking him. He was just a teenager for fuck’s sake!

“Listen, Miss Y/l/n-” Maybe it was because he was so used to unloading his thoughts in front of you that he launched into a half-baked explanation of everything that had happened, “I got bitten by a radioactive spider-” “I met all these Spiderpeople-” “-and he tried to stop me from saving my dad and-” 

Your head was spinning.

“Oh Spidermaaannnnn!” The Spot called out in a sing-song voice. “Where are you hiding, you little insect?” “I gotta go, just-” he held his hands out, “just stay here for now. Don’t move!” And just like that he was gone, leaving you more confused than ever before.

I don’t get paid enough for this. You thought, standing alone amidst the rubble.

Miguel tore through the rooms, sprinting like a madman. The reverse Super Collider was finally up and running and it was only a matter of time before the Spot would realize their plan and go berserk. The ground beneath him shook and groaned in protest as the building’s foundations began to crumble into nothing, eaten away by the dark matter that spilled out of the Spot.

“Y/N!” he roared, kicking down a door so hard it blew off its hinges.

You hopped off the bench. It seemed silly, but as a civilian caught in the middle of a multiverse-ending battle there hadn’t been anything for you to do but sit and wait for Miles to come back.

A Spider-Man variant barreled towards you, all hard cut lines of red and blue with blades protruding to his forearms that glinted in the dim light. You hadn’t made a decision about whether or not to run - whether or not it was even worth it to try - before he had you wrapped up in his arms, burying his face in your shoulder. The mask fell away like tv static to reveal a head of brown waves that smelled faintly of oranges.

“Dios mío, pensé que te perdí.” He murmured, holding you like his life depended on it. 

You stiffened under his touch before awkwardly raising a hand to pat his back. “Umm, hola. ¿Te conozco?”

Miguel froze, feeling the tension in your body. You didn’t… you didn’t know who he was. He’d just… he’d been so terrified that he’d forgotten himself - the situation they were all in. 

He took a step back, spine ram-rod straight as he suppressed the urge to hold you again. This version of you looked… different. Different, but the same. You were missing the faint scar on your temple you’d gotten from a car crash at seventeen. 

“We need to go.” he said, voice tight as he gestured to his back, “Get on and hold on tight. This building’s about to blow.”

You blinked at the sudden change in his tone, taking a moment to process what he’d just asked you. 

“You know Spider-Man?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” He said, clenching his jaw. If you didn’t jump on his back in the next ten seconds he was going to chuck you over his shoulder and start running.

The floor beneath you shifted, the building’s dying breaths echoing through the halls.

Hesitantly you climbed onto his back, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist as he started sprinting towards the broken window.

“Si me dejas caer, nunca te perdonaré,” you said, lips accidentally brushing against the curve of his ear. 

He shivered. “Jamás.” 

You were airborne again, feeling Miguel’s body twist and flex beneath you as he pulled you both towards the ceiling like it was as natural as breathing. When you dared to look towards the ground you gasped. The tangled frame of the Super Collider was whirring to life, crackling with energy and exploding with color as Miles spun his webs, keeping the machine together even as it threatened to rip itself apart. 

From within the cocoon of webs, dark matter, and multiversal energy, you could make out the Spot’s form warping and pulling apart, bits and pieces disappearing into the frenetic portal that the collider had split open.

Miles caught up to you both, matching Miguel’s rhythm as they flicked and swung from their webs.

“Hey again, Miss Y/l/n.” Flick. “I see you’ve met Miguel.” Flick. “I hope he hasn’t been too mean towards you.” He called out.

You felt Miguel grumble with displeasure. 

“He’s the guy that body slammed me into a moving train!” Flick. “But I beat him!” 

“Miguel did WHAT?!” 

“Right, Miss Y/l/n?”

“Listen kid, I already apologized for that.” 

“Yeah right.” Miles had to laugh. The day he heard Miguel say the words “I’m sorry” would be the day the multiverse tore apart, and that day was not today.

You slapped Miguel on the shoulder - it was like hitting stone, “¿Qué coño te pasa? He’s just a teenager!” 

“Cariño, can we please discuss this at a later time?” He gritted his teeth. Something was wrong with the collider. It was getting harder and harder to swing you both upwards, like the force of gravity had tripled. 

You froze. “What did you just call me?” 

Crap.

Miles’s eyes swung back and forth between you two like a pinball machine and the dots finally connected - the alternate universe where Miguel had a family, the way he kept looking at you, the way he’d demanded Miles tell him where you were.

“...Aren’t you his wife?” He asked dumbly.

Miguel’s face went white beneath his mask. Did the temperature go up, or was that just him? His hands felt clammy under his spider-suit.

“I’M HIS WIFE?!” 

The collider screeched beneath them and Miguel barely had time to flick his web out towards the remnant of a walkway before - 

One. 

Two.

Three. 

BOOM! 

The Spot burst out from the cocoon in a tornado of dark matter, sending debris flying backward towards the sucking mouth of the collider. The building walls buckled, drywall ripping out and sailing downward at the whim of the collider’s gravitational force.

“Spider-Man!” He bellowed, his voice grating and animalistic, “I’M GOING TO DESTROY YOU!” 

He might get torn apart and sent to a thousand different dimensions, but if he was going down, he was going to take Spider-Man with him.

“Get her out of here!” Miles yelled over the deafening roar. He pressed his body flat to the wall to keep from falling down into the collider.

“I can’t!” Miguel groaned. His hands had begun to slip down the bright red webbing. You were beginning to lose your grip as well, nails clawing into Miguel’s back.

Your legs gave way first, then your arms. 

“Y/N!” Miguel flicked a laser web out, catching you by your waist. 

“MISS Y/L/N!” 

You gasped, arms and legs splayed out to your sides as you dangled precariously over nothing. Miguel stared down at you, shoulder screaming in pain as he did everything he could to keep you both from getting sucked down. His mask disappeared, letting you see the way his red-brown eyes were blown open. Somewhere from below Miguel heard the Spot scream as he was finally torn to shreds, dark matter traveling back to their respective dimensions, but all he could focus on was you.

“Miguel,” you whispered, too scared to say anything else.

“Miguel?” You called out from the bottom of the stairs. 

Gabriella dribbled the football close, just like her father had taught her, before passing it cleanly between your legs.

“¡Túnel!” 

“¡Y la multitud se vuelve loca!” Miguel whooped, thundering down the stairs and twirling a screaming Gabriella through the air.

You fixed the collar of his sweater, kissing him hesitantly on the lips and smiling at the brightness in his eyes as he held your daughter. 

“I’ll see you at the game later,” You said, smoothing back a strand of your husband’s hair, “I love you.” You murmured, hoping to hear him say it back. It had been so long since he’d said those words to you.

“I’ll see you later.” Miguel promised, kissing you again with a smile so wide you felt his teeth against your lips. 

You knew something wasn’t quite right… he knew you knew… but neither of you could find the words to say anything about it. 

What’s happened? Why have you changed so much so quickly? Why don’t you remember things about me - about Gabriella - anymore? 

You wanted to ask those questions so badly.

But you didn’t ask, and he didn’t answer.

So he left without saying those words… and that was the day he lost you.

He wouldn’t lose you again. He wouldn’t lose you like he’d lost Gabriella.

With a roar he pulled you back to him, wrapping one arm tightly around you. You molded yourself into his side, shutting your eyes just in time for the collider to groan to a halt and then explode.

The noise alone knocked you both back, sound waves rattling your bones and pressing you further against Miguel. Golden light emitted from the collapsing collider, sinking into your skin until it felt like you were burning.

The laser web burned away and Miguel could do nothing more than wrap his body around you as you were both thrown up and through what remained of the roof. You landed on hard pressed glass, pain shooting up your side as you and Miguel tumbled in a flurry of tangled limbs. You rolled to a stop, Miguel bracing his arms so that you wouldn’t get crushed under his bulky frame. His suit glitched, unstable molecules traveling over his skin as it worked to repair any and all damage.

The collider stilled, light dimming as it sighed and breathed its last.

“Are you ok? Are you hurt?” He brushed your hair back, frantically scanning your body for injuries as you caught your breath. 

“I’m ok.” You gasped out, “I’m ok,” You promised, resting your hands against his chest. He felt solid and real beneath your fingertips - the most real thing you’d experienced this entire night. 

Miguel sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. You closed yours too, letting yourself enjoy this delicate moment of peace and quiet. 

“Woooow, you can really feel the romantic tension between the two of them, can’t you?”

“Shut up, Pavitr.” Gwen hissed.

Miguel’s eyes snapped open, suddenly aware of the audience of Spiderpeople that had congregated on the roof. It was at times like this that he envied the others for their spider-sense. 

He rolled lightly onto his feet, pulling you up with him and keeping one arm loosely wrapped around your waist. You found that you didn’t mind the contact at all. 

Sirens blared from every street corner, the flashing red, white, and blue lights of firefighters, policemen, and EMS overwhelming to the eye. 

Someone was missing. 

“Where’s Miles?!” You said, your heart leaping into your throat.

As if on cue he swung up through the hole in the roof, landing with a wince of pain as his right knee buckled under his weight. Patches of his singed suit were still smoking.

“Are you guys ok? I oof-'' Gwen tackled him in a hug, ripping off her mask in the process. You recognized her immediately from Miles’s drawings, but her hair was longer - wilder - than in the pictures.

“Miles,” her breath stuttered, “Oh my god, I-I thought-” 

He shushed her, rubbing her back as she helped hold him up on his injured leg.

“Hey it’s ok. It’s all good. I’m alright.”

“Aight’ bruv!” Hobie and Pavitr whooped, clapping Miles’s back. 

You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself as the others circled around Miles. Only Miguel stayed close, watching you out of the corner of his eye. 

Had you actually just experienced all of that? Had you lost your mind?

“Miss Y/l/n!” Miles noticed you shivering in the cold in your socks and pajamas. He tugged off his ruined mask, exposing the bruise that was beginning to blossom like a purple flower around his nose, “Are you alright?”

You blinked. Were you alright? You weren’t dead or seriously injured as far as you could tell. 

It is taking all my willpower not to pass out or vomit right now - was what you were thinking.

“I’ve been better,” you answered, uncrossing your arms. You took a deep, stabilizing breath and squared your shoulders. It was bad enough that you’d spent the majority of the evening flung around like a rag doll in front of your favorite student, but to do it in your pajamas? That was just embarrassing. 

“Miles, please tell me you haven’t been running around New York alone with no adult supervision fighting crime this past year.” 

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his heck. It was like being reprimanded by his own mother, “I mean… I wasn’t always doing it alone.” 

“Yeah! And he had adult supervision - at least for the beginning part of it,” you turned towards the sandy-haired Spider-Man in the pink bathrobe and matching slippers, “I was his mentor and I think I did a pretty good job, wouldn’t you say?” He punched Miles proudly on the arm.

You gawked at him. “Is that… is that a baby strapped to your chest?” 

The baby in question babbled with happiness, chubby fingers reaching out for you. 

Peter grinned, plucking the little girl out from her carrier and mussing up her wild, red curls. “This is Mayday. She’s a wonder isn’t she?” 

He thrust May into your baffled arms where she proceeded to wriggle around like a worm on a hook. 

“You-you brought a baby to a superhero fight?” 

“Sure did! And she did fantastically. Photo time!” He snapped a picture with you and May, adding as a caption “Mayday’s first time saving the multiverse.” “This is going in the scrapbook for sure.” 

“I think… I think I need to go home now.” You said once Mayday was safely crawling around her father’s chest again.

“We should all get out of here.” Miguel said, noting the cop cars beginning to crowd around the perimeter. “Lyla?” 

An orange holographic woman popped to life, hovering in the air between you and Miguel. “You called?” 

You jolted back. Lyla fluttered her fingers in a wave.

“Is it over?” he asked wearily. 

“Hmmmmm,” she flitted around the air, checking holographic screens and typing away on a computer, “Multiverse is holding steady and there’s no sign of the Spot anywhere.” 

“And the super collider?”

Lyla made a poof sound, opening her hands and wiggling her fingers, “Destroyed. No anomalies detected.” 

“Great.” Miguel, tilting his head back and breathing deeply. Lyla blinked out of existence. 

A very pregnant Spiderwoman fiddled around with her watch, opening a portal behind her and her motorbike with only a few quick taps.

Damn, is everyone having kids these days except me? The thought came forth from your muddled brain.

“Let’s get back to HQ everyone. I want full debriefs recorded and uploaded in the next hour.” 

A chorus of protests and half-veiled insults rose up.

A tall, spindly Spider-Man, dressed like a 1920s silent film detective, tipped his hat towards you before calmly adjusting the lapels of his grey coat and stepping into the portal. He was followed by a petite Asian girl driving a robot, and… a pig? You had to blink at that one.

“I hear you teach art.” Hobie said, swinging his guitar onto his back, “That’s ace. Try this out and let me know what you think, yeah?” He tossed you a haphazardly folded zine. The cover screamed out in newsprint letters: THE DECAY OF SOCIETY IN THE FACE OF COMMERCIALIZED ART-MAKING.

“See you around,” he gave a two-fingered salute and stepped back through the portal. 

You immediately felt Miguel’s absence when he brushed past you towards Miles and Gwen. He sized up the two teenagers, grabbed Miles’s wrist, and dropped a watch into his open palm.

“Gwen will teach you how to use it. Don’t make any dumb decisions.” 

“Me?” Miles snorted, “Pfffft. Never.” 

Miguel hesitated before saying, “I’ll see you around… Spider-Man.” 

He was just about to step through the portal himself when you called out his name, voice cracking. He closed his eyes, back tense. 

He didn’t want to turn around. He wanted you to ignore him and let him leave without saying goodbye because… because if he saw you again that just might ruin him. Here was another version of you - another family - that would never be his.

But when you called his name again - this time with more force - he couldn’t deny you. He turned around and stared into your eyes - the eyes of his wife… the eyes of a stranger.

He never had the chance to live a full life with that other version of you. He hadn’t been the one to take you out on the first date, he hadn’t been the one to kiss you at the altar, he hadn’t been there when Gabriella was born. No. All those memories and experiences belonged to someone else, some other version of him that he could never be. But when he looked at you he imagined for one brief moment what it would be like to try it all over again, to be a real husband to you… to be there for you from the start.

“Thank you,” you said, “For saving my life.” 

His lips tightened into a thin, almost angry line, but whether he was angry at you or himself you couldn’t tell. He gave a curt nod, stepped into his dimension, and let the portal close in front of you.

When Gwen and Miles dropped you off at your apartment, the first words out of his mouth were, “Please don’t tell my mom and dad.” 

His phone weighed like a stone in his pocket, filled to the brim with frantic text messages and missed phone calls from Rio and Jefferson.

“Miles… this isn’t-this isn’t safe for you to do. I mean you’re just a teenager.”

“I’m not just a teenager.”  

“Do you even have a driver’s license yet?” Miles shut his mouth, thinking over his next words carefully. 

“Miss Y/l/n, this world needs Spider-Man. You know it needs Spider-Man, And I’m this universe’s Spider-Man. Me. I can’t just let that go.” 

You muttered under your breath. Were you really going to encourage a fifteen year old’s vigilantism? You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, hating that he was right. The answer was yes - you really were going to encourage your student to be a superhero.

“I won’t say anything to Rio or Jefferson or anyone else. Your secret is safe with me, Miles. I swear it.” 

His shoulders drooped in relief. Without warning Miles wrapped his wiry arms around you in a tight hug, “Thank you so much. You’re the best.” 

“Don’t thank me. I haven’t even done anything yet. In fact I should be thanking you for protecting the multiverse tonight.” You said, a faint smile growing on your lips despite your best efforts. You hugged him back. “If you ever need anything, just let me know. I’m going to guess even superheroes need a little help every now and then.”

“That would be the understatement of the century.” Gwen said, balancing on the balcony railing with all the grace and poise of a ballerina. 

“We should really get going, Miles. It was nice meeting you, Miss Y/l/n.” You nearly had a heart attack when Gwen fell backwards without hesitation, catching herself in a swing from an old lamppost. 

“See you around, Miss Y/l/n,” Miles said and dove after her, adding a flourish in the form of a front flip.

“See you around, Spider-Man.” You said softly, finally escaping into your apartment and sliding the balcony door shut.

<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->

>>>

Sneak peek at Chapter Three (because I want you all to know what I have planned, but I've made this chapter too long):

You awoke with a start, suffocating under the heavy blankets that you’d buried yourself in last night. You’d been dreaming again about the collider. You’d been dreaming about Miguel - this time in a feverish haze that left your mind in a puddle on the floor. 

How was it possible that a stranger could occupy so much space in your mind? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he’d held you like you were everything and then left without saying goodbye.

Are you thinking about me too? You wondered, opening your eyes in hopes of chasing the memory of him away.

…Maybe you were still dreaming, because the last time you checked you hadn’t fallen asleep under a tree in Central Park. And even if you had, you highly doubted you could have lugged your bed frame with you all the way from Brooklyn.

Oh por el amor de Dios.

Author's note: I hope you guys are enjoying where the story is heading! To those of you who reached out and offered to help with the Spanish - thank you so much! I've been a little overwhelmed by the responses on Tumblr and haven't been good about keeping track of things, but I have a friend who will be helping me out moving forward. I'll be updating the masterlist once the next chapter is scheduled. In the meantime, have a great weekend everyone :)

[aux-squiggle]

Daughter or Abortion #1

Conclusions at the bottom

The other week I made a tiktok post about how I will get an abortion if my fetus is male because I will only birth daughters and I found it hilarious how much it pissed off supposed "pro choicers."

And it's made me realize a lot of mainstream pro-choicers reasons for being pro choice isn't because they truly agree with the meat of pro-choicism, but rather because they approve of abortion in more cases than what we consider prolife.

They approve of abortion in cases of rape, poverty, medical necessity, lack of parental skill, career aspirations, unpreparedness etc. But that's not why pro-choicism exists. Pro choice is not about having a good reason to abort, or extending abortion to enough reasons, but because of arbitration.

Whether a woman will carry a fetus to term or not is a complete arbitration. She could decide to flip a coin on whether or not she'll have the baby and that's completely morally neutral. If that makes you uncomfortable, get over it.

Mainstream pro-choicers can justify the above "good reasons to abort" via an array of arguments including the argument that fetuses are not people (which is true). But in their complaint against me saying I will abort a male fetus when I am trying for children (via a separatist method btw I couldn't be caught dead fucking a man), they expose that they have not taken the "fetuses are not people" thought process to its logical end.

Fetuses pre-24 weeks are no better than an organ. They are just rapidly growing cells, that will mostl likely become a baby but is not yet a baby. But until it actually becomes a baby, it is just as "unbaby" as every other organ in your body.

Post 24 weeks fetuses have the brain structures necessary for consciousness (though when this consciousness actually "turns on" for the first time is debated. Let's say it's 24 weeks for the sake of the conversation even though it may be 28 weeks or even later).

Maybe you consider consciousness the start of personhood or maybe you consider being born the start of personhood (I personally consider first consciousness the start of personhood, however fetuses beyond 24 weeks still are at arbitration because the mother has the right to remove it at any time, same way if your body was hooked up to keep someone else alive, you can unhook it anytime).

Therefore I consider first consciousness the time a fetus becomes a baby, and babies are people. Fetuses are not babies, and are also not people.

Discrimination* is only a thing that happens to people.

*In the social sense of treating a group differently and/or unfairly because of their traits. Not the literal meaning of discriminate which is essentially akin to sorting or approaching things differently.

What does this mean? Fetuses cannot be discriminated against.

Abortion typically happens before 24 weeks (and any abortion I have will be pre-24w). Therefore no person is suffering or being treated differently if I abort it for being male, because fetuses aren't people.

Of course people immediately snap "oh what if someone aborts daughters huh?" First of all, a pre-24w abortion is incapable of harming the female fetus because it's not a person. That "potential daughter" did not experience the (presumed) misogyny behind the decision because it can't experience anything. It's not conscious, it was never conscious, and it's a not a person.

If the woman aborted the female fetus because of misogynistic messaging she's received in society, that's still her choice, and I still support her choice to do anything regarding her own pregnancy. The only victim in the situation is her from the misogyny she already experienced in life. An aborted female fetus is the consequence of misogyny and not a method of misogyny in and of itself. Her womb is not real estate for social justice and equality.

Let me say that again. Her womb is not real estate for social justice and equality.

If carrying a female fetus to term would upset her, because misogyny has told her it's better to have sons, then it doesn't matter if she ends up becoming the next Andrea Dworkin ultra feminist 20 years down the line, because the stress and anxiety she experienced from having a pregnancy she didn't want (even if I don't agree with the reason why she didn't want it) will become birth trauma which is one of the deepest forms of trauma someone can have.

It would be better for her to have aborted and be happy than give birth and be sad, even if I think the reason for the happiness and sadness is ridiculous or misogynistic.

Complete arbitration is necessary to be pro choice. If you don't like complete arbitration, then you're not pro choice, you're pro-abortion-for-more-situations-than-typical-pro-lifers. The two are not the same.

Additionally, had the daughter been born to a mom who doesn't want her, she'd be traumatized so it's better to never have known that suffering in the first place.

Inversely, if you are pro-choice it doesn't matter whether you agree or not with me not wanting sons. I don't want a walking liability, I don't want a ticking time bomb who I could feed feminism from the moment he says his first word yet can grow up into a sneako rat or the next Andrew prostate. The most laterally misogynistic daughter is not enabled to do as much harm as a mildly misogynistic son.

We've got to remember that the patriarchy doesn't give a fuck about women's opinions and feelings. The patriarchy only exists to serve men. Women tend to become internally misogynistic and/or laterally misogynistic to ease the cognitive dissonance that occurs from being a human woman, in a system that treats women as subhuman. But the patriarchy does not actually care if you internally agree or not, it just wants to control you. Internalized & lateral misogyny make you easier to control. But you could be a complete anti-patriarchal ultra radical feminist, but as long as you're as easy to control as a believing tradwife, patriarchy doesn't care. Men don't care.

Because the patriarchy doesn't give enough of a shit about you to truly care about your deepest opinions and just wants to control you, no woman in a patriarchal sphere of influence will be elevated to the level of authority and control as a man. Because of the fact she could use her authority to spread anti-patriarchal dissent by hiding her deepest opinions to get that authority in the first place.

This is especially concerning when it comes to intimate relationships and what men can get away with.

An ultra far right laterally misogynistic tradwife daughter posts bs propaganda on the internet and ruins her own life. A casually misogynistic man (on the right or the left) rapes women. Or beats women and calls it kink, or buys sex (another form of rape) and calls it female empowerment. The misogynistic daughter is an embarrassment, the misogynistic son is a targeted nuclear warhead heading for women that I helped fashion. Absolutely not, under no circumstances will I create such a risk to the female class.

A poor person who supports capitalism will never be as bad as an actual capitalist who benefits from labour they did not do, and often makes the material conditions for the proletariat unfair or abusive.

It's funny though because you need a LOT of abuse, social conditioning and often straight up programming to turn a daughter into such a class traitor, which my future daughter(s) will seldom have due to the fact they will grow up without a patriarch and without brothers.

Single sex schools are still fairly common in Ireland too so they'll most likely be going to those (and most of said single sex schools ban makeup for students too, and are uniformed, so way less expensive trends and self consciousness about the face). And Ireland, while not some beam of patriarchy-less sunshine, is one of the best for gender equality and as a woman living here I can attest it is much better Nigeria which I'm originally from. And honestly from what I see my American friends going through it seems to be a lot better than large swathed of the USA.

My future daughter(s) with all that, on top of a radfem GNC separatist mom, will be hard pressed to turn into a misogynistic tradwife, whereas a son only needs an internet connection to become a danger to humanity.

But ultimately it doesn't matter if you dislike my reasons for aborting male fetuses if I have one, because my womb is not real estate for social justice and equality.

Additionally it is majorly disrespectful to me but also any mom/future mom to say "don't have children if you're going to hate your child for their sex." Lol what? Obviously if a stork flew down with my magic male full-term or near-full term baby, that is my child and I will obviously love him and raise him as best as I can to be a feminist ally. A pre-24w fetus is not my child because it's not a person. Even after that, until it's born, it's up to a woman's interpretation when a fetus becomes a baby, and further when the baby becomes HER baby.

Overall wider culture but even people on the left, even so-called pro-choicers, seem to take issue with sacrifice minimization. It makes them uncomfortable that a woman will exercise her liberties to bring about the best and happiest outcomes for her child(ren) with the minimal amount of input.

Like described above, bringing about a son who truly respects women and isn't a misogynist at all, is magnitudes much harder than bringing a daughter who has female class consciousness. Why would I out myself through the stress for a son for the high likelihood of failing, when I could live a much more relaxed life with a daughter who is not only class conscious but happy, with way less stress?

I also find people invoke this kind of shame when they try to guilt women into having more than one baby. "Give your kid a sibling, they'll be lonely otherwise!" meanwhile having a sibling can also be lonely and it can cause actual trauma if the siblings don't get along. A lot of one-and-done moms talk about how much easier and more fun life is compared to their friends with 2+ kids. Not saying it's common for pro-choicers to shame women into having more kids, just saying there is a similarity between their distaste for sacrifice minimization.

The sacrifice minimization concept is also allegorical to the conversation about the ethics of aborting disabled fetuses.

Many people abort fetuses for congenital/antenatal disabilities because they view disabled people as lesser, people who don't belong in their family, invalid, they straight up hate disabled people which is extremely ableist. Which makes having kids contraindicated entirely, as any kid can become disabled or have an indetectable disability.

Issue is, the abortion of disabled fetuses is the culmination of extreme ableism, not an act of ableism in and of itself. Because fetuses aren't people, therefore no person was victimized or discriminated against when aborting.

And like I said before, no one's womb is real estate for social justice and equality. It's no one's place to judge what is or isn't evicted from someone's uterus (or who, if the pregnancy is post-24w).

Additionally, not everyone aborts disabled babies because they hate disabled people. To preface, of course disabled people as a whole are very very much not a privileged group. However within the demographic that is disabled people, most of us activists are privileged in comparison. Frankly any one of us who is able to access the internet is very privileged in comparison to some disabled people's difficulties, and this is the stuff that rarely gets posted.

I used to work as a healthcare assistant (for a short time before I had to quit due to my own disabilities) and without exposing anyone's private life, I can comfortably say that as a childhood torture survivor & ritual abuse survivor, still dealing with the physical injuries of torture, there are antenatal disabilities that cause such pain and suffering (to the disabled person) that makes my worst experiences as painful as bumping into a wall in comparison. And such disabilities are not as rare as we'd like them to be.

When it comes to the topic of sacrifice minimization, it's not about whether or not people think such people "deserve" to live or not or if aborting them "saves them from misery," let's put that aside. It is utterly ridiculous to tell a hopeful mom that she SHOULD go through the level of grief, stress, depression, and anxiety to a) go through the more dangerous pregnancy as these in-utero disabilities tend to come with higher risks and b) actively know her entire life will be changed to care for a child with such a high level of need, and then purposefully go through with that, and have that weight and guilt on her shoulders.

Mothers already deal with guilt when it comes to health issues completely unrelated to them, like freak accidents they weren't even present for or had any control over. That (misplaced) guilt is magnified an indescribable amount of times when she has a test showing fetal abnormality and she chooses to keep. That choice to keep, if it occurs, should not be egged on by detached so called pro-choice telling her aborting over this is somehow creating cruelty and hate. It's nobody's business to be swaying her either way.

On top of that, while one should prepare for one's child to be disabled, those possible disabilities often stack onto whatever congenital disability is under scrutiny in the first place. It's not like you get a set of illnesses and that's it, disability parking slots booked out for the future. Many disabled people are at higher risks for other disabilities too. Using one's given medical information to abort disabled fetuses also means only birthing babies with a relatively decreased risk of further disability as well, which means higher potential quality of life (depending on the disability, QoL varies a LOT, and some measurements of QoL are ableist in and of themselves and assume disabled ways of living are inherently worse. I mean QoL in the abstract here).

Babies without many certain antenatal disabilities have not only a far higher chance of survival, but also the mom has a lot more available resources to secure that child's wellbeing, safety and happiness, and are in a better position to address disabilities that appear later while the adults are still caring for the child (or even at birth conditions such as CP). Aborting disabled fetuses is often a form of sacrifice minimization (and probably the most common form of said minimization amongst selective abortions), not always from ableism (although I agree it often is both or just ableism). And mainstream pro-choice left clearly takes issue with sacrifice minimization to some degree.

—

Conclusion: 1) Fetuses (at the very least pre-24 week fetuses) are not people. Fetuses cannot suffer from being aborted. Fetuses that would grow to belong to certain demographics don't experience discrimination for being aborted because they're not people.

2) Abortions based on the future demographic of a fetus is not an act of discrimination in and of itself but is often a culmination of pre-existing discrimination.

3) People's uteruses are not the places for social justice or moralisms. There's no "wrong" thing to do with the contents of one's womb.

4) It is perfectly fine for women to use abortion to minimize their sacrifices in raising children, while still working for the best possible outcomes for the children they do decide to birth.

5) Some people who call themselves pro-choice don't understand point 1 or point 3 and need to work on that stat.

6) If you don't agree with the underlying principles of pro-choice, you're not pro-choice, you're just abortion-permissive to more situations than pro-lifers.

Note: Edited some sentences for clarity. Message of the post is the same

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: “This is the worst idea we’ve ever had.”

Vaggie: “Do we have a better one?”

Charlie: “Give up before I burn down half of Pentagram City??”

Vaggie: “That’s plan B, babe.”

Charlie: “It’s gonna be plan A for Already Happening at this rate!”

Vaggie: “Look, I don’t like it any more than you do-”

Charlie: “THEN SWITCH WITH ME!”

Angel Dust: “Said the bi lady to her lesbian lover.”

Charlie: “I’M NOT LOVING THIS! Why can’t I be the on who has to do the fake date thing!? At least I’ve dated guys before! Once!!!”

Vaggie: “Because-”

Alastor: “Ha ha HA… My dear, I’m afraid I DO prefer living, amusingly enough~”

Charlie: “Then keep the touching. To a MINIMUM.”

Vaggie: “Sweetie, the whole point is to trick people into thinking I’ve double crossed you so they’ll tell us about how they wanna double cross you. It’s not really going to work if the one selling you out is… you.”

Charlie: “But this is stupid- no one in their right mind is going to look at YOU and think ‘now THERE’S a woman who would date a MAN!’”

Angel Dust: “Biphobia~”

Husk: “Still fucking true.”

Vaggie: “Charlie c’mon- If you were a dude I’d date you.”

Charlie: “You’d figure out how to still be lesbian about it, trust me.”

Alastor: “Now there’s a thought! I COULD do my best impression of a lesbian, if that would help with the immersion?”

Vaggie: “What, like. Wear a pin?”

Charlie: “I do NOT need this situation to be in any way believable! The structural integrity of our HOTEL does NOT need me feeling this is even slightly more real.”

Alastor: “But our foes do require enough to be fooled by, I am afraid.”

Angel Dust: “Well that’s this plan out the window…”

Vaggie: “I can’t picture you as a lesbian.”

Angel Dust: “He’s not giving guy fucker vibes either, toots, bein’ fair.”

Husk: “It’s just fucker. In a platonic, shitty way.”

Alastor: “And you would know, hmmm~?”

Charlie: “Can’t we just dress me up as someone else?? Put me in a glamor, or-”

Vaggie: “No one is gonna hear you talk and not know who you are."

Charlie: "RRRGH."

Vaggie: "Which I love, by the way. Along with everything else.”

Charlie: “Well what if I just don’t talk! You- you could be into the silent, brooding types!”

Vaggie: “If I’d met you during the emo phase then yeah sure. But Alastor's the one who knows these assholes-”

Angel Dust: “WAIT go back- her WHAT phase!?”

Charlie: (SQUEAKS)

Vaggie: “Em… emoticon. Her. Emoji era.”

Angel Dust: “She was emo??” (at charlie) “YOU WERE EMO!?!? With the hair dye an’ the dead roses and shit????”

Charlie: “I was a TEEN! Kinda!! I was, barely through my first four decades of life-!”

Vaggie: “And dealing with a lot.”

Charlie: “-the whole ‘oh all of creation hates your home and you and everyone you love’ thing was starting to sink in, as well as all the, the murder and stuff happening just outside our house-”

Vaggie: “The hair dye made her happy so shut up.”

Angel Dust: “Oh we GOTTA get you back in your emo duds someday, Charlie Chip! This is GOLDEN!”

Alastor: “What, my dears, is an emo phase?”

Husk: “Angry at the world and making it the world’s problem by staying in your fucking room with the lights dim as fuck, turning it into a 3D model of all your psychological hang-ups and listening to tortured screams and shit.”

Alastor: “Ah. A lovely Saturday afternoon. I DO enjoy those.”

Everyone Else: “…..”

Alastor: “?”

Angel Dust: “Alright. So he’s maybe got some teen girl vibes goin’ on. That’s a start ain’t it?”

Vaggie: “….maybe we could say I lost my soul to him in a bet or something.”

Charlie: “Don’t even JOKE about that!!!!!”

Husk: “Fucking copycat.”

Angel Dust: “Copy what, Mr. kittens?”

Husk: (hisses)

Alastor: “Now now, Husk. Play NICE.”

Husk: “…you got it, boss.”

Alastor: (pats his head) "Very good."

Angel Dust: (CRINGING)

Charlie: "Alastor- could you um, maybe not??"

Alastor: "Hmm? Not what, my dear?"

Vaggie: "Oh you fucking KNOW what, pendejo." (glares) “Fuck the fake soul selling. I’d probably kill him if he talked to me like that.”

Alastor: “That MIGHT put a damper on our budding relationship, ha ha!”

Vaggie: “Touch me and you WILL die.”

Alastor: “Oh ho! A long distance romance I see!”

Vaggie: “That’s not convincing anyone either. You hold still, I’ll, ugh.” (grimace) “Touch your arm or something.”

Husk: “Eugh.”

Angel Dust: “Basic house rules.” (shrug) “Maybe it’ll work?”

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

Vaggie: “Charlie it’s just for one evening-”

Charlie: “No. Just, just let all of hell plot against me! It’s fine.”

Vaggie: “Babe that is so not fine.”

Charlie: “It’s fine!!!”

Husk: “Carpet’s on fucking fire.”

Charlie: “Shit. Alastor- I need you to step away from Vaggie before I burn the hotel to the ground, starting with you.”

Vaggie: “Hot.”

Angel Dust: “Siiiiimp...”

Husk: (smirk)

Alastor: “I suppose disguising me as a FLAMING lesbian would be a BIT much.” (steps away) "Better?"

Charlie: (hugging vaggie) “Further please, Alastor. Further. A, a little more? Mm- no, further than that…”

(many steps later)

Charlie: “Juuuust a few more steps…”

Charlie: “Okay! I think I can finally be comfortable with this!!!”

Vaggie: “He can’t hear you, sweetie. He's half way across the hotel.”

Charlie: “Oh.”

[gffa]

i’m fully obsessed with the fact that through multiple comics it’s implied that as devastated bruce would be (or has been, in Jason’s case) to lose any of his kids, losing dick would literally drive him mad. that boy made a man and a father out of him and losing him would be the end of the world

It's a one-two punch of how Dick is the one whose presence in the world gives Bruce hope, that even when they're not talking to each other, Bruce still knows that Dick exists in the world and that there's hope for life and justice and happiness. The world is still worth something if Dick Grayson is in it. Fighting to save people is still worth it, if the little boy he saved that night can still find a life to be happy in. Followed up with the gut-punch of how Dick is the one who came to him the youngest, the one who understands him the most, the one who taught him how to connect with family beyond the people who were in his life from Before. Never underestimate how much Alfred saved Bruce, gave him stability and love and structure that he desperately needed, but Dick was the one who came along and demanded that Bruce open his heart up further, demanded that Bruce expand his world again, demanded that he openly show some affection, demanded all that just by being Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson is his baby even more than the others, no matter how old he gets, some part of Bruce still sees him that way, because that one came to him when he was the youngest and wore his heart so openly that Bruce's own heart ached with every burst of anger and every burst of love from that little boy. Dick is the one that demanded to be seen and loved and made part of both Bruce and Batman's worlds, just by showing up and refusing not to connect with him. Every time he perched himself on a sofa upside down or sat himself on the edge of a table and asked what was wrong and refused to let Bruce brood, he made himself part of the world that Bruce needed to stay sane. Every time he laughed or made a ridiculous joke or eagerly showed what he'd perfected, he made himself part of the light of Bruce's world. Bruce loves all his kids equally, there's no one that he loves "more" than the others, but he has relied on Dick more than the others, Dick is the one that made those inroads to Bruce's heart possible in the first place, and Dick is the one that refuses to be anything other than A Good Outcome. No matter how many times Bruce starts to angst over his mistakes, Dick will say, yeah, you fucked up sometimes, but I love who I am and I love this life you helped give me, and no amount of mistakes you've made will undo that. You saved me and I love you for it. Dick is his ideal dream realized--someone who fights for justice, who understands the darkness of the world but loves openly anyway, someone who knows the mean and dirty things that must be done sometimes, but still cares about everyone, someone who will devote their life to fighting to save people but won't lose himself. Dick is Bruce's ideal version of Batman. Bruce loves Dick because Dick is so easy to love, because even someone who can be as hard to love as Bruce is is so loved by Dick Grayson, and because Dick understands him better than anyone. He loves Dick because he understands him in return, because Dick is always there when Bruce really needs him, yet also stands up on his own, he has become someone Bruce is proud of in a way that even his hell brain can't rip apart. And he loves him because Dick Grayson is the one that made him realize he could open his heart up to accepting new people into his life even after his greatest tragedy. He didn't have to just hold onto what came Before, he could find new family and love them just as much as he loved his parents, that there will be people worth loving in this new world. Bruce loves all of his family, he'd go off the deep end for any of them, but the one that I don't think he'd come back from is the death of Dick Grayson, the loss of the light of their world. That kid made him want to not just be better, but be part of the world again, because Dick Grayson was in it.

[caamboys]

Pick A Card

how does your crush feel about you?

Pile one 💙🩷

Pile two 💚

Pile three 🩷

Pile One 💙

eight of pentacles, seven of cups, ace of cups, the empress, three of pentacles, two of cups, queen of pentacles, king of pentacles, four of swords

Alright! Pile one your person took me for a ride lol!! This is not someone whose easy to understand so I get why you'd come to a tarot reading. Starting off their feelings for you are the eight of pentacles, seven of cups, and ace of cups! You guys had a lot of cup energy so I definitely can see they have/hold emotion for you. This isn't someone who holds no emotional regard to you. If this is someone who doesn't know you this may not be your pile. What I see with this person though is them being very deceptive. I see them putting on a mask when you come around. Although they feel you two would make a beautiful union, and have a healthy collaboration in love, I see them pretending otherwise. Regardless they're viewing you in this 'Empress' energy, they definitely see you as a suitable partner. I can't help but wonder if they're feeling insecure regarding your financial status or their own financial/material status. Some of you might be in a better place in life when it comes to financial/material circumstances. If that's not the case I see them feeling insecure about what they have to offer you. They view you very highly in this Empress energy and I think they want to approach you as such. I think if they overcome this blockage they could deal with their emotional immaturity and stop pretending they don't have feelings for you. They'd be more than happy to enter a partnership with you pile one! trust your intuition when dealing with them, if you feel like they're putting up a front of being detached from you it's just a poor response to their own feelings. I believe this person likes you back and wants to approach with a steadfast confidence in themselves and what they have to offer BUT until they get that I don't see them coming in.

pile two

The hierophant, Page of Swords, Nine of cups, Page of cups, King of Swords, The sun, The lovers 💚, & The artist

Right off the bat I'm getting you two engaging in a formal setting. This may be a workplace or school crush, or somewhere with rules regulation and structure. They view you as a very responsible, hardworking, productive individual. I think they've had an opportunity to gain insight on the type of person you are, they may have seen you show an act of kindness to someone, or offer something to somebody else. Whatever insight they gained about you has them veryyy emotionally fulfilled by you 😭 With the lovers card and the artist I already see them wanting a partnership with you! I see them daydreaming or consciously thinking about a relationship with you. I dont think they're fine settling with the thought and I actually think this person is taking on a more confident approach to you. I don't see them outright admitting their feelings but I definitely see them shining light on their feelings for you. They might make a sly joke or flirtatious remark that lets you know they're attracted to you. I feel like this pile has a reciprocal crush! They would like to create something new with you! 💚

Pile three🩷

Three of swords, Nine of Wands, Seven of Wands, Two of Wands, Three of Pentacles, Knight of pentacles, Ace of swords, Nine of cups,

The lovers🩷

Omg ur pile had me so worried !! Then it all fell into place 🤭 I think they definitely can see themselves in connection and union with you, but I can't help but feel like they're emotionally wounded by you! Did you hurt them by any chance? I think they feel competitive and defensive with people surrounding you. I feel like in the past, they have contemplated negatively about attention you receive, and whether or not they could find true fulfilment & love with you. Pile three I think your person is jealous 😭😭 or something you did hurt their feelings/ pride. I can feel something bothering their heart space. They'll be deciding whether or not to pursue you, & I see them tapping into this Knight of Pentacles energy and suddenly being ambitious towards a connection with you. They're going to decide to step into their power and pursue you relentlessly. Although I see them overthinking it before they make a move. Once they do though, they release all their doubts!! They don't give a fuck about the competition, exes any other suitors around you. I think once they've completely decided on pursuing you they're going after an EXCLUSIVE union with you. I see them being very defensive about your loyalty to them. I do get a bit of defensiveness around their heart and worry around being backstabbed. They may have misunderstood something about you, or felt like you weren't really interested in them (possibly you were interested in others) but I think something is going to make them come back around to the thought of being with you, and I'm seeing them choose to take the risk and offer some sort of emotion. Don't put up a mask around this person, maybe even show a bit of emotional vulnerability. I see this person needing to trust you to get true emotional fulfillment.