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mochinomnoms · 9 months ago

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Two's Company, Three's a Crowd, and Six is a Riot

i. thievin’, stealin’, takin’ what’s not yours

[wc} - 6,835

[notes] - hehe

make a choice at the end...

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i. thievin’, stealin’, takin’ what’s not yours

Listen to: "Taking What's Not Yours" and "Lovers Rock" by TV Girl

After learning who your friend Hornton really was, people would expect you to be a bit more formal with him.

After all, they could excuse your lax demeanor and loose words with him due to your unfamiliarity with the Wonderland’s political and royal spectrum.

But now knowing exactly who is the Malleus Draconia, the heir prince of Briar Valley, did not stop you, and quite frankly no one should be surprised.

You were his friend, first and foremost, and Malleus believed that fact with all his heart. You both did have to admit that it was very funny seeing everyone’s reactions to your casualness and affections to each other.

Though Malleus was much more reserved compared to you, anyone with eyes and a single functioning brain cell could see that he was ever so gentle with you.

He hung on to your every word like it was rapture, fascinated with your stories of home and humans, even if you weren’t like the humans of his world.

Especially because you weren’t like the humans of his world.

In turn, you were attentive to him, ensuring that you spent your time with him to the fullest. Maybe it was because he was your friend, or maybe you also knew what it was like to be lonely, but you loved outings with him.

It could be nightly walks in the woods near Ramshackle, it could be sharing a new flavor of ice cream with the same spoon, or it could be the words that only you two and the stars over the Diasomnia dorm shared.

In any case, you two were most endeared to each other.

It’s why no one was surprised anymore as you hanged off his arm as you two and Grim walked to his next class. It was actually quite comical, the way you swing your arms together, hands clasped, as you talked his ear off about your last class.

And from the small upward twitches of his ears and the small smile on his face, Malleus was absolutely basking in your attention. And amused by the swinging.

“And then I was like, ‘no Ace, I told you to not put the nightshade in the potion you chuckle-fuck, it’s gonna turn into goo’ but he was all like,” You mocked Ace’s voice as you continued, ‘I’m the one with the magic, so I’m the one that knows what they hell they’re doing’”

You were laughing as you told the story, the corner of your eyes crinkling. You both ignored the looks of students walking past you, giving you (Malleus, mostly) a wide berth of space. Once even gave you a look as they noticed your hands together.

“Then, like I told him, it turned into goop, right before a big ol’ bubble formed and popped all over him! He was covered in green, it was hilarious.”

A soft snort left you as you covered your mouth to quiet your laughter. The swinging relaxed,as you climbed up the steps to the castle. Malleus tilted his head, eyes softening as you looked at Grim padding to your right, rambling as well.

“Nyah! That big dumb-dumb is always underestimating me, I only pick the best of the best for my henchmen!”

“Snrk—you tell ‘em, Grim.” You gave Malleus an amused look, gesturing for him to lean in closer to whisper, “He also wanted to put the nightshade in the mix, by the way.”

Chuckling and straightening to his full height, your friend’s smile faded into something more concerned, eyeing Grim, who decided to speed up and pad up the steps by twos.

“While it is ideal that nothing more happened, perhaps you should encourage your companions to exercise more caution, I’d rather not hear from a third party of your harm if something were to happen.”

You felt his hand in yours tighten, tugging to closer to his side as he gave you a stern look.

“I know that you aren’t afraid of me. But with all the troubles you seem to get into…I’m starting to become afraid…of losing you.”

You think you could feel your breath hitch and a warmth flood your face, as you looked away, flustered at the fuzzy feeling in your chest. Instead, you turned your gaze back to Grim to watch as he hopped between rectangle to rectangle, avoiding the lines.

“You worry too much! I got Grim!” You cupped a hand over your mouth and called out, “Right Grim?”

“Huh? Yeah! Whatever you say, I’m the Great Grim!”

Both of you choked a laugh as he tripped over a rock and fell on his face. Finally letting go of Malleus’s hand (you missed the way he flexed his hand from the missing warmth) and jogging to your now whining direbeast.

“Owie!! (Naaaaame)! I’ve been fatally injured! Tend to me, henchhuman!”

You scooped up Grim, who was licking his wrist like a wounded kitten. Turning back to Malleus, you gave him an apologetic smile and gestured towards the main castle doors with your head.

“We have a lot of time until class, so I’m going to go to the infirmary just to make sure he isn’t actually hurt.”

“Hey!”

Malleus nodded in understanding, using a curled finger to pet the top of Grim’s head, who begrudgingly leaned in to the touch.

“Of course, I should get to my own classroom, I’d hate to be late.”

“Hornton, it’s like 45 minutes until class starts.”

“Exactly, I have such little time to make it to the room. My seat might be taken.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that most people wouldn’t show up until 5 or so minutes before class.

“What do you even have that makes ya want to show up so early?” Grim questioned, not particularly aware of the way you were cradling him like a baby.

Malleus’s eyes glinted in amusement as he gave Grim a polite smile.

“It’s an advanced Ancient Magic course, and though I find myself already familiar with most of the topics we cover, today we are discussing looking glasses.”

You and Grim both made a confused noise, tilting your head in opposite directions.

“Like, a mirror?”

Shaking his head, Malleus looked unusually eager to explain the concept.

“Not exactly, though they are a type of magic mirror. A looking glass is a tool used to view one's potential futures. It requires a ritual to turn a regular mirror into a tool and is rather difficult.”

You could feel Grim’s tail whip against you in excitement as you both listened eagerly.

“Only the most powerful of mages can successfully complete the ritual, and only lasts for 72 hours before the glass shatters beyond repair. I am particularly interested in using it to—”

“I’M POWERFUL! I WANNA TRY IT TOO!”

Grim jumped from your arms into a surprised Malleus, his ‘injury’ apparently healed at the thought of being able to complete a complicated and powerful spell.

“Let me join the class! The Great Grim can’t wait for two more years to try it out! Please, please, pleeeeeease!”

“Grim! Don’t bother Hornton with such silly—”

“I suppose it wouldn’t be a bother to have you two assist me.” Malleus hummed, tapping a finger to his lips as he held Grim from the scruff of his neck, dropping him back in your arms.

“I usually find myself without a partner in this class, I would greatly enjoy the company.”

Grim squirmed excitedly in your arms, grasping your cheeks and squeezing as he jumped excitedly.

“Come on henchhuman! We can skip homeroom! It’s not like we’re missing anything, it turns into study hall anyways! Can we go? Pleeeeease?”

He would hate it if you called him cute out loud, but Grim was such a cute little guy sometimes.

“Mm, I guess we can…but only if we actually get to do stuff,” You wrinkled your nose in frustration. “Last time we joined 3rd year classes, Leona just used me to hide behind and nap, and the other time Vil kept taking stuff out of my hands instead of letting me do stuff.”

Malleus chuckled, affectionately ruffling your hair.

“Of course, I always value you and your words, my little beastie.”

Hmm, ‘little beastie’ is a new one.

You tapped your fingers against the desk, lazily skimming the book Malleus had left you to review as he was pulled away by the professor into the hallway.

The professor had muttered something about missing housewarden meetings, and you're pretty sure you saw a glimpse of Riddle’s bright hair at the door before it closed.

Riddle and Vil’s been complaining that Hornton hasn’t shown up to most of the meetings this year, maybe Riddle actually came to collect him this time.

At the thought of the two, you moved your hand up to fiddle with the tie around your next and smacked your lips, the raspberry flavored lip oil briefly meeting your tongue.

The tie had been Riddle’s, even still had the little crown on the left side, when he fussed over the raggy state of your old one. He’d insisted that he had plenty and showed you how he tied the bow with a red flush in his cheeks. Very cute, but you’d never say that to his face.

Vil’s lip oil you’re pretty sure was a pity gift, something he was sent in a PR package. He told you he wasn’t a fan of flavored lip products, but still needed to do a review of the products he’d been sent. Thus, Vil used you as a test dummy for his video review, leaving your lips feeling raw and dry from being constantly rubbed clean by make up wipes. Though, he told you to keep that specific oil, and said it suited your skin tone.

Now that you really think about it, a lot of the students had been rather…you don’t know. Doting? Sweet? Ever so slightly less mean to you as of late?

Especially the ones who overblotted this last few months.

You’re pretty sure you’ve been getting pity gifts, even they can feel guilty of all the trouble they’d put you in.

Some you’re pretty sure was just their way of paying you off without explicitly saying, “Look I’m sorry I almost killed you, but you're stupid for getting involved as a magicless student and I feel bad now take this.”

Idia had taken your cheap phone that Crowley gave you and upgraded it so that it had more functionality to it that wasn’t just sending an S.O.S. signal to your friends. He’d even put it in a clear case that held a dangling blue skull charm, which swung against you when it was in your pocket.

Leona tossed you one of his made beaded bracelets after you’d complained about Crowley cutting your funding again, leaving you with little to use for repairs and food. He told you to sell it or something and to shut up, as he was trying to take a nap. Never mind that it was your couch he’d decided to sleep on and not one of his usual spots around campus. In any case, it looked nice on your wrist, and it was good for a rainy day in case you did have to sell it.

Azul had also offered you a bracelet a while back, a very pretty lilac one that he told you was made of sea glass. You were wary to take anything from Azul in fear that he’d find a way to put you in debt. Very valid in your opinion, but it literally got shoved onto your wrist when Floyd held you down and Jade slipped in on with a smile. Apparently it had a protection spell tied to it, as Azul mentioned that you were overly prone to chaos. All it cost you was him checking in once a week to see how it held up, you think maybe to sell more in the future?

At least Jamil’s silk wrap wasn’t forcibly shoved into you, though you didn’t appreciate his comments on how unruly your hair was in the mornings. You told him that it wasn’t your fault that water at Ramshackle sucked and that you did your best! It wasn’t enough according to him, and he helped you wrap your hair into the silk cloth to protect it against the elements. While he’d originally suggested that you use it to sleep in, you’d taken to using it for everyday wear, using it as a wrap, as a bandana, even as a headband. Jamil sometimes looked both pleased and frustrated at the sight.

Pity gifts, you’re sure.

Ace thought otherwise, though, he and Epel teased you constantly about it. How ‘soft’ and ‘sweet’ they were to you, how you should take advantage and flirt back with them to get a well-off boyfriend out of them.

No matter how much you insisted that it wasn’t like that, none of your friends believe you. Even Deuce and Jack seemed to doubt your explanations, though Sebek at least stayed out of it.

Ortho was the worst of them, though. “I’ve noticed that at times, their heart rates increase when they’re around you, so Ace might have a point!” which was quickly followed up with, “But you focus on Idia, he’s the most ideal!”

Then it turned into a whole thing of them arguing who would be the best or worst boyfriend for you to get with. Why they were invested in your nonexistent love life, you don’t know, probably boredom and a need to gossip.

You sighed, eyeing one of the sigils in the book in front of you. Grim was looking at another book, surprisingly focused on reading the words on the pages.

“Hmph, I don’t get any of this, when is Hornton coming back! I’m getting bored, it’s too hard to understand!”

Pouting, Grim slumped against the desk and made a soft, whiny sigh.

“Henchhuman, tell me you found something interesting?”

Thumbing through the book in front of you, you noticed a rather fascinating sigil accompanied by some foreign writing along the edges.

It looked a lot like the magic mirror, though the edges were reminiscent of vines and the inside of the sigil looked cracked, like someone smashed the mirror with a hammer. Surrounding the image was an intricate cursive, it looked like some fae script.

“Hmm, this one looks cool. Think you can read that?”

Grim eyed the page you were on, ears perking up as he noticed the infographics on the right. It looked like a visual guide on how to complete the ritual on a mirror.

“Oh, can I draw that! I wanna try by myself! We don’t need Hornton!” Grim pushed the small handheld mirror that the students had as part of the class assignment.

“Do it!”

“What? No Grim, these aren’t our materials. Wait for him to come back and ask if you can practice.”

You snatched the mirror away from Grim’s paws, tucking it underneath a different book, and then resting your elbow on top for extra measure.

“Just wait Grim.”

Not unlike a child not getting their way, he stomped his foot and started throwing a tantrum.

“I wanna do it! Let me do it! Lemme! Lemmelemmelemmelemmelemmelemme—”

“—Oh. My. God. If I let you draw and practice on my hand, will you quiet down?”

The small creature pouted, eyeing the open palm you offered.

“...But the book says I need a mirror…”

“Well, the book doesn’t buy and serve you tuna, does it?” You snapped back, raising your brows and moving your hand closer. “Now, I’ll help you practice, but not with Hornton’s materials. Who knows how expensive or rare they are.”

With an indignant sigh and a roll of his eyes, Grim plopped himself on the desk and took your hand in his paws.

“Fine. Gimme a pen!”

You smiled, shuffling through your pen case to look for something he could use.

“Hmm, I only got pencils and a permanent marker…meh, whatever.”

Handing Grim a black marker, and him eagerly taking it and scribbling the sigil, you stared around the classroom, dazing off.

The class was already sparse, and you’re pretty sure Vil, Leona, and Idia were meant to be here too, so that made it feel even more empty. Though…the last two probably wouldn’t have even shown up.

Rook was here, though, conversing with his own class partner as they gestured over their own mirror and textbooks. Nothing escaped his attention, though, as he looked up and noticed you staring almost immediately.

He gave you a close eye smile and wave, before noticing Grim drawing on your hand and tilting his head in curiosity.

You shrugged and mouthed out the page you two were on. Rook took a moment to flip to the page you were on, confusing his partner. Watching in mild interest, Grim let out a little triumphant sound, drawing your attention once again.

“Finished! I’m so great at drawing!” You’ll give him the benefit of the doubt since your skin wasn’t flat like a mirror, but it barely passed for the sigil in the book.

“Great job, Grim, now practice your pronunciation.”

“Okie-dokie!”

Grim still held your palm in his paws, reading off the

“G-ge d'afr-fr-frm-ah-ys hmrian…od…sarl…lo-loysalri-que—no—cu cast!”

You chuckled as Grim struggled to pronounce the words, not paying attention to the sudden squeaking of a chair.

“Turn xiyaurrrr…day-na-r-yo…su liie xi-yie vast! Reflect col rricu…wyn-sash’s? Uh, wynsas’s, weli today…”

Rook calling out your name startled you, turning your head to see him urgently rushing to you.

“But loyricu—wait.” Grim looked back at the book and squinted at the pages. “No, it’s the other paragraph…

By now, you noticed that several of your accessories, along with the sigil, had started glowing in different colors, though Grim was none the wiser. Rook certainly was.

“Trickster, Monsieur Fuzzball! Don’t!”

“It’s fine, I got this! Imma start over!” Grim cleared his throat, bringing your palm even closer as he restarted his incantation.

“Wait, Grim—”

“Ge d'afrmays hmrianod sarl loysalricu cast. Turn xiyaur daynaryo su liie xiyie vast. Reflect col rricu wynsas’s weli suday. But ssarie die to what xiyie fsaadc biercvmirian!”

The glowing intensified, lines of cracks starting to appear from the sigil and up your arm, you even think the room started shaking.

“W-what? Henchhuman? (Name)! What’s happen—EEEEH!”

You watched helplessly as Rook scooped Grim up, calling out to the others, “Evacuate, NOW!”

He gave you an apologetic look, running out of the room with a crying and thrashing Grim in hand, following the other students out.

Dread filled your veins, a heavy feeling on your chest and shakes going down your body as you watched the cracks continue forming up your arms onto the rest of your body.

Scrambling to follow the others, you tripped over your own chair, pain going up your knee as you jabbed it against one of the legs. Nothing but adrenaline fueling you, you clambered to the door and tried pulling it open, pulling, pulling, and pulling until you realized.

You were locked in the room

Through the small window, you could see the small group of students turn into a crowd, everyone watching in horror, but unable to look away, as the cracks slowly grew up your neck.

You banged on the door and pulled, screaming at everyone to let you out.

“HELP ME! STOP STARING AND HELP! PLEASE, PLEASE!!”

You could feel your throat strain against the stress you were putting them under, tears streaming down your face as you saw the housewardens enter the hallway, drawn in by the yelling and crowd.

Riddle was shouting something you could barely make out, eyes flickering over to you briefly before he realized something was happening. He paled, shouting something at the others near him and pointing at you.

Pain was blooming from where the cracks formed, the glowing growing and turning your skin a dazzling shade of blue, like a crystal.

You continued banging on the window, watching as the other housewardens made their way to the door to pull it open.

Even Idia was hovering in the back, unsure of what to do himself. Kalim was pressed up closest to the glass, his own tears growing as he watched the spell take over your features.

You could feel your skin breaking, cracks finally formed over your lips.

Vil had turned to yell at the group, specifically at Rook, who had actually taken to arguing back at him, the former’s hand waving and gesturing at you. Azul and Riddle were at Kalim’s sides, arguing with each other on what to do.

Your left eye burned in pain as it was briefly blinded by blue until it turned dark.

The three sophomores were suddenly shoved out of the way onto a pile on the ground as Leona came into view, followed by Malleus on his right.

“Hornton! Malleus, MALLEUS HELP ME!”

You watched as Leona raised his left hand, his mouth uttering something as glowing yellow sand formed in his palm. He was using his signature spell.

Unfortunately, it was for naught.

The last crack finally formed over your right eye, the last thing you saw was Malleus’s grief stricken face as your vision turned blue, then black.

Then, it all went silent.

He could still feel the harsh light on his retinas, dots dancing in his vision, even when he closed them. Malleus looked down at the handful of students he’d covered under his arm, hunched over them in protection. His own body moved before he did.

The three beneath him were curled together, hands over their heads and eyes squeezed shut. One peaked an eye open up at him and squeaked at our close they were to him.

“U-um, thank you, Prince Draconia, sir…”

Malleus nodded his head, then snapped his head over at a shrieking Grim in Hunt’s arms.

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO! (NAME)! (NAME)! I WANNA SEE (NAAAAAAME)!”

The little one was sobbing as he thrashed and swiped at Hunt’s arms, the latter flinching as a claw dug into his cheek.

“Monsieur Fuzzball! S'il te plaît, calm down! You must understand, you would’ve been burned if you were still in the room!”

Burned.

An impending sense of doom filled Malleus’s chest, foreign and heavy, as he rapidly stood and turned to the door you’d just been screaming through.

Moments ago, he could see the fear and pleading in your eyes, pale blue cracks growing on your form as you begged him to help. You begged, pleaded, and cried for him, and he was too late to do anything. Now, only a white, dusty fog was in your place, shrouding his view into the room

The other students in the hall were now slowly getting back up. Schoenheit had done the same as he did with a few students near him, while his three younger housewardens had curled into each other, still in a pile on the floor.

Shroud had been in the back of the group, cowering behind a blue panel of hexagons sprouting from his floating skull contraption, with some students behind him.

Kingscholar was closest to the door, part of which was slowly turning into sand as he was hunched on the ground, hands over his eyes as he rapidly blinked. Tears were flowing from the corners, no doubt from the strain the sudden flash had caused.

“Tck, my damn eyes… Someone…go check on the damn herbivore…fuck! I can’t see!”

A yowl and a cry of pain caught Malleus’s attention as Grim finally dug his canines into Hunt’s hand, making the human drop him.

“(Name)!”

The little one ran into the foggy room through the gap Kingscholar’s spell was causing as Malleus tried following him, though another cry made him pause.

“Ow! What the—Grim?”

“…(Name)?”

Your voice! It was you! You were okay! Never mind that it sounded different, sounded…older. It was you, and you were okay! Malleus breathed a sigh of relief, hovering over the door to wait for enough space for him to squeeze through.

He couldn’t teleport now, he had no clue what spell went off or how it would react to another spell going off so soon.

“Ooh, Grim!” You spoke again, softer though…you sounded off. “Grim, you’re so small…”

“I forgot how small you used to be! Like a little baby~”

“Grimmy, have you been crying—ah! …Hell…o?”

“…Hi? What’s going on, why am I—”

“Why is it so foggy in here, I can barely see—oh! I like your shawl!”

“Oh, thank you! Um, do you—any of you—know what’s going on?”

“Nope!”

You spoke…multiple of you spoke? What?

“You! Go get the headmage and nurse! I…don’t…know what’s happening with the Prefect…” Riddle barked at one of the students, voice faltering as he stared at the rapidly disintegrating door with confusion.

“Y-yes Housewarden!”

Most of the students followed suit, chasing after their friends until it was only the housewardens and Hunt left.

Malleus finally had a gap large enough for him to fit, bowing his head to enter before a gray ball of fur rammed into his stomach. Grim must have been barreling out of there like an arrow flying from a bow, because it actually caused a bit of pain.

“EEEEEK! THERE’S A BUNCH OF WEIRDOS IN THERE!!! THEY’RE COPYING MY HENCHHUMAN, SOMEONE TELL THEM TO GIVE (NAME) BACK!”

Everyone made various sounds of confusion, except for Kingscholar, who was still rubbing his eyes and growled.

“What are you talking about, you little furball?”

“Go look for yourself!”

Malleus and the others shared a look, Asim helping Kingscholar from up the floor and inching closer to the door, now practically gone.

The others did the same, cautiously approaching the door and entering the room. It was empty at first glance, at least where you’d been. The fog was clearing out now, flowing out of an open window, a figure…no two…three…four…six? Standing by it.

“There, that ought to—gasp.”

Bright green eyes met with your familiar ones, one of you staring at the group as the other five looked out the window and quietly conversed.

Malleus and the others froze, as did the six, Hunt muttering something in amazement under his breath, staring as if any sudden movement would set someone off.

“Guys, guys!” The…(Name)s staring at them, adorned in silk that reminded him of the clothes he wore while at the Scalding Sands, smacked the other five, making them turn.

Now that the fog was almost completely cleared, Malleus could properly see the group.

It was indeed you…just older, maybe the same age as Sam? Each one looked a bit different though, some of you had your hair longer, some in an up-do. Some more chubby than others, others more lean, and your clothes.

The one in the Scalding Sands silks moved closer to the middle of the classroom, allowing space for the other six to approach as well. One of you was dressed in what Malleus was positive was in the royal garb from Sunset Savana. Another one was in some sort of suit, similar style to what Crewel wore, while one in an elegant one piece that shimmered with each movement, ears adorned with jewels. One was in loose, but silky clothing, pearls adoring their neck, and the last behind them was dressed in a dark gray uniform, with the S.T.Y.X. logo on their left.

No matter which one of you he looked at though, you were all breathtakingly beautiful.

“Oh my god!” The one in the suit gasped, hands covering their mouth. Your look one of…delight? “Riddle? Is that you?”

Malleus’s group was still frozen, some of the younger ones flinching at your cry. Rosehearts, at the sound of his name, approached, straightening and taking a few steps forward.

“Yes, um, (Name), is that—”

Malleus could hear what he presumed was the headmage and nurse approaching, their footsteps echoing against stone steps, at least until suit you squealed again and came rushing at Rosehearts.

“I forgot how much of a baby-face you had, and how short you were! Come here!!”

You practically scooped Riddle into your arms, the heeled ankle boots on your feet giving you even more advantage. Speaking of the devil, Rosehearts had a spectacularly brilliant shade of red on this face, his two strands of hair standing straight up.

Whether it was due to rage, embarrassment, or fluster as you nuzzled a cheek against his forehead, Malleus wasn’t sure.

“Wha—what—how—P-PUT ME DOWN!”

Shoving ‘suit’ you off, Rosehearts stumbled backwards, shaking in anger as the six of you giggled.

“How dare—it should be off with your head for such a stunt!”

‘Suit’ you clicked your tongue, placing your hands on your hips and wagging a finger at him.

“Now Riddle, that’s no way for a husband to speak to his spouse! Or, I guess—your future spouse!”

Malleus and the others froze, as did Rosehearts, whose face went white, then back to red again.

“I—I—I—what did you say?” Rosehearts had a soft, almost meek tone now. Strange to hear from him. “S-spouse?”

‘Suit’ (Name) giggled, nodding a swooning into your hand as you spoke. “Aw~ I remember when you used to still get all flustered around me, no one could ever tell if the red meant you were mad or not!”

“Ah, speak for yourself, Idia’s would turn pink when he wanted to hold hands.” ‘S.T.Y.X.’ you laughed as Shroud made a choking sound, then a thump, to Malleus’s left. “He still sometimes does.”

“Wait, so you married Idia? I’m Vil’s partner!”

“Interesting, Azul is mine! You two are pretty easy to guess, Leona and Kalim? The clothes give it away”

“Ah, yes, for quite some time actually…”

“I’m actually married to Jamil, though I can see why you’d guess Kalim.”

The six of you laughed together, oblivious to the distress happening behind Malleus. In fact, he turned out of curiosity, and it was certainly a scene.

Shroud had presumably fainted, his fiery hair now extremely pink. Schoenheit was staring at ‘Jeweled’ you, hand clasped over his mouth as Hunt whispered into his ear. Ashengrotto was glowing a light purple from his cheeks, mouth opening and closing, attempting to say something. Kingscholar was looking at his you, the one in royal garb, but had a pained, almost sick expression as he eyed you up and down. Asim seemed to be the only one excited about the situation.

“Woah! You’re all so pretty! And I can’t believe you married Jamil! He’ll be so excited—or, well, actually—you know what? It’s fine, I’m super excited to meet you all!”

Asim smiled, hands on his hips, until he frowned and asked, “Why are there so many (Names) though?”

You six turned back to Asim and the others, exchanging looks. You all looked confused, concerned even.

“I…I don’t know. I was with Idia just a moment ago when we started growing these blue cracks on our skin. Then, suddenly, the cracks exploded and I turned up here.”

‘Jewel’ (Name) nodded, piping up. “Same, I was at a shoot with Vil when the cracks appeared, like someone was smashing a mirror, but on my skin.”

The other (Name)s nodded in agreement, ‘Suit’ you pinching at your lip as you spoke.

“I think we all were with our husbands when we got here…wait, we all have different husbands?” You gasped, flapping your hands in excitement. “Is this like a multiple timeline thing? Like Doctor Who?”

“Oh my gooood, you’re so right, it’s a Doctor Who thing.”

“I totally forgot about Doctor Who!”

“I loved Doctor Who as a kid, was your favorite episode also—oh, uh guys?” ‘Silk’ you pointed at the group of men, wincing at the various states of distress they were in. “I think they’re not processing this well. Yours fainted.”

‘Silk’ (Name) gestured to Shroud, still on the floor, as S.T.Y.X. (Name) cringed, carefully making your way to him.

“Oh, Idia? Babe? You okay? Maybe I should get Ortho over…”

Following ‘S.T.Y.X’ you’s move, the other (Name)s each approached your respective…husbands.

Malleus ignored them, moving farther into the classroom to search for his (Name), his beastie. He dropped Grim, who landed on his bottom out of surprise, making an ‘oomph’ sound.

“Owie, hey Hornton, what was that for—”

“Where are they?” Malleus could hear the thunderstorms forming outside, but he didn’t care. “Where is my Child of Man?”

Silence fell over the crowd behind him, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the foreign feeling of anxiety in his chest as all he saw before him was remnants of you on the desk you’d been sharing. A pencil bag, a notebook, a chair fallen over.

One of the other (Name)s must have approached him, their footsteps but background noise to the sounds of thunder.

“…Hornton—”

“Do NOT call me that! How DARE YOU!” green flames and smoke left his mouth as Malleus turned to rage at the person who dared to call him what his Child of Man called him. What his beastie named him. What his (Name)—

SMACK

The back of a palm met the skin of his cheek, stinging and burning in pain. He’d never…been slapped before. It shocked him.

“Don’t you yell at me like that, Hornton.” The (Name) in Sunset Savana royal garb was resting their hands at their chest, rubbing the tender skin. “I may not be the same (Name) you know, but I am still your friend, even if from another timeline. And you will treat me with the same level of respect as you would your own (Name), understand?”

Malleus stared down at ‘Savana’ you with a blank look. You had the air of a ruler, the attire, the voice. His eyes told him it was you, but…you just looked…so uncanny. It was you, but his heart knew you weren’t his (Name).

The group behind ‘Savana’ (Name) all had different expressions of concern and fear, like they were waiting for him to strike you down. Except for Kingscholar, who had a disbelieving smirk, just barely noticeable. Your face softened, though, as you sighed.

“…I’m sorry Horns, I don’t know what happened to the me that is from here. I don’t think any of us even know how or what brought us here.”

“It was a spell, mon Royal Trickster!” Hunt spoke up, eyes still on ‘Jewel’ (Name) who had taken to stand between him and Schoenheit. “Monsieur Fuzzball decided to practice a type of looking glass spell on Roi du Dragons’s Trickster! It was vraiment terrible! We had to evacuate, as the others happened to see.”

“He WHAT!” Malleus looked down at Grim, who yelped at his angry gaze and fled into ‘Suit’ (Name)’s arms,

“I didn’t know! They wouldn’t let me practice the sigil and spell on the mirror, so they told me to do it on their hand! I didn’t know! I didn’t know! I didn’t knooooow—!”

Grim began crying into ‘Suit’ (Name)’s chest, babbling apologies and wails of regret.

“Looking glass…is that why the cracks formed on our skin?” ‘S.T.YX.’ you was now fanning Shroud with your hands. “But, the same started happening to our husbands, where are they?”

“I may have an answer for that!”

The group turned their attention to Crowley, finally arriving with the nurse in tow, who immediately fell down to attend to Shroud.

“Looking glass spells usually break the mirror and reform it back using a mirror dimension to reform, allowing the user to see into the future. Very complicated, very powerful spell. I’m surprised Young Grim was able to cast a variant of it.”

“Break?” Malleus hissed, interrupted by Grim.

“V-variant?”

Crowley nodded, leaning down to study ‘Pearl’ (Name), who leaned back into Ashengrotto, the latter turning purple once again.

“Yes, if it was the normal spell, it wouldn’t have worked. Nothing would have happened! But something did, which leads me to believe that it was another one with another purpose…Young Grim, may I see what it was you were referencing?”

Grim nodded, pointing to the book at the desk you two had been at. Malleus immediately snatched the book and practically teleported in front of him and Crowley. The direbeast flinched and curled into ‘Suit’ (Name)’s arms, muttering.

“…He says it was page 176.”

Crowley nodded, looking as Malleus flipped to the pages and taking the book from him.

“Let me see….ah! I see the mistake. Grim, you silly thing, you did a different incantation! Our Prefect (Name) was shattered into the mirror dimension!”

“I KILLED THEM!? WAAAAAA—”

“Nononononono—” The headmage frantically waved his free hand, shushing Grim. “Poor choice of words. They must have had some items of personal importance to the student here and were replaced by their mirrors! It’s not unheard of, but it’s very rare for it to even be done. The good news is that all can be brought to normal!”

A wave of relief flushed Malleus, his shoulders sagging, not gone unnoticed by the other students.

“But…”

“But? But what!”

Crowley remained unfazed by Malleus’s raising voice. “I am just ever so busy, and it requires many materials and a powerful mage to cast the spells needed to bring them back, and I just didn’t get many hours of sleep—”

“Then I will assist, problem solved.”

The headmage’s shoulders slumped as he muttered, “Wonderful.” under his breath. He straightened and gave the group of (Name)s a big smile.

“In the meantime, you six can take residence in Ramshackle dorm as we fix—”

“Oh, I’d rather not. Can’t we go with our husbands? …Younger husband? …Younsbands?”

‘S.T.Y.X.’ you smiled, looking down at Shroud as he began waking, the nurse waving their wand under his nose.

“Ugh…I was totally having a weird dream…:”

“Hi my Younsband!” ‘S.T.Y.X’ (Name) smiled at Shroud, which faded as he looked at them and promptly fainted again. “Oh, Idia…”

“That’s not a bad idea, with Hornton working on this, we won’t be here long.” ‘Silk’ (Name) smiled at Asim. “You think Jamil will be okay with me showing up?”

“Oh yeah! Probably, it’s all good (Name!)” Asim cheerfully responded, before frowning. “Should I call you (Name)? Do we call all of you (Name)? I feel like it’ll get confusing fast.”

The six of you hummed, sharing looks with each other.

“Perhaps a nickname?” Ashengrottto suggested, looking anywhere but at his (Name). “Are there any you six would like to go by?”

‘Pearl’ you smiled, tucking Ashengrotto’s long strand of hair behind his ears, making him stiffen.

“You call me Angelfish often, I can go by Angel.”

“Ah! I’ll go by Tart!” ‘Tart’ turned to Riddle and smiled. “Your favorite!”

Schoenheit turned to his (Name) and smiled. “What would you like?”

“Jewel works.” Jewel smiled back, laughing as Hunt exclaimed.

“Merveilleux! A beautiful name for a beautiful person!”

Asim looked expectantly at ‘Silk’ (Name), tilting his head curiously.

“Does Jamil call you anything back home?”

You paused, tapping a finger to your lip before smiling.

“Call me, Habibi.”

Asim looked utterly delighted at the name, eyes shining.

The others looked at the last two, mostly at the (Name) attending to a waking Shroud.

“Alright, alright. No more fainting…oh! Uh, call me Percie.”

The last (Name) looked down, embarrassed, as everyone looked at them expectantly.

“…Mousy.”

A snort left Kingscholar’s mouth, which he promptly closed before retorting after seeing the glare you gave him. His tail whipped against his legs.

Crowley clapped his hands, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Wonderful! Everyone, please make your guests comfortable! Young Draconia, if you will follow me, we will begin the new ritual spell. Come, come!”

Just like that, everyone began shuffling out of the room, the group of twelve separating from the headmage and Malleus as they went opposite directions.

Malleus paused, turning back to look at the group. The different versions of you all looked so happy, being with the others. It made his heart feel heavy.

“Poor Grim, Riddle dear, do you think Trey will be able to make him a treat? To make him feel better?”

“Azul, I forgot you had these glasses. I like them, you look so cute. Ah, it makes me wanna cry a bit!”

“Alright Idia, no more fainting please, you’ll get a concussion at this rate.”

“You know, Leona, it’s been a while since I've seen you with your hair down. You just look so much younger like this…”

“Oh, Vil, do you like the outfit? It’s one you picked out for me, you know?”

“Kalim, maybe text Jamil about the situation now? Just so we don’t stress him out…and no parties or feasts today, please?”

Ignoring the lump in his throat, Malleus turned back around and sped up to Crowley’s side. It didn’t matter what these other versions of you meant to them. He was going to get his (Name) back.

His beastie…come back to him.

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

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spetescap · 24 days ago

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oh em gee ik the boys would probably hate this but maybe a beach day with (gn) reader would be cool? i’m only an hour away from staten island and the beach is THE thing to do in the summer

Beach Day with the Eltingville boys!!

GN!Reader

- You’re all gathered in Bill’s basement when you suddenly go,

“We’re going to the beach. Sunday. Show up or I’ll personally drag you there, but not before burning every single one of your limited edition figurines.”

- And that’s how you get everyone to reluctantly agree 😼

- Bill groans like you just told him he’s being drafted,

- Josh immediately starts going off about the sun and how he hates sand,

- Pete refuses for a whole, but then goes “fine” and then follows it with “wait, are there jellyfish?”

- (he wanted to go the whole time)

- and Jerry just blinks and nods 😭

- You don’t explain, you just keep planning like you didn’t hear any of them 🤷

- Sunday hits, and you pack a bag with Caprisuns, sunscreen, sandwiches, and chips, because you’re the only one with a functioning brain cell and basic survival instincts 😔

- Pete shows up first, he’s in a wife beater that is very quickly discarded (probably for the best), swim trunks with some tacky skull print, and flip flops… with socks. Gross.

- He’s already eating a bag of chips that wasn’t even his, drops half of them in the sand within minutes, picks them back up and keeps eating them, saying it adds “crunch.”

- Bill shows up in a dark grey shirt, swim trunks that look like he dug them out of his (nonexistent) dad’s closet, and flip flops that he immediately regrets 😭😭

- He stays at the edge of the parking lot for like thirty straight minutes, arms crossed, sunglasses on, looking like an off-duty lifeguard who hates his job and everyone around him 😭😭

- You wave at him and pretends not to see you 🙄

- Jerry shows up looking like a camp counselor 😔

- Green shirt, blue swim trunks, sandals.

- The second he hits the sand he’s on a mission. He starts building sandcastles like he’s getting paid for it 😼

- Josh… oh, Josh.

- He shows up in all black. Black shirt. Black cargo shorts. Black flip flops. 😭

- He sets up a towel under the umbrella and refuses to move from it, the first thing out of his mouth is “the sun is actively trying to kill me,”

- and he spends the next hour rotating between complaining about heat, eating whatever you have in your bag, and accusing the wind of being “specifically targeted towards him”

- Pete and Jerry spend most of the time near the shore building increasingly unstable sand structures,

- Jerry tries to give his castle lore, Pete tries to smash it every three minutes,

- and at one point Pete starts digging aggressively, saying he’s “gonna find a crab if it kills him.” (Spoiler: he doesn’t.)

- Bill finally makes his way over to the rest of you after staring at the group from a distance like he’s watching a crime scene,

- he sits down, immediately gets sand in his soda, and goes, “This is why I don’t go outside. Nature is a scam.”

- You offer to help him reapply sunscreen. He says no. That’ll come back to haunt him later🤷

- You, Jerry, and Pete are the only ones who go in the water 😭

- Josh stays under the umbrella like it’s a bunker 😔

- Bill doesn’t even look at the water until you’re already ankle-deep

- Jerry gets freaked out by seaweed within five minutes and power-walks back to the shore saying “something touched me” over and over.😭😭 (I fear he’s me 😔)

- Pete stays in, splashing around, daring the ocean to fight him. You don’t ask.

- By the end of the day, everyone’s sand-covered, sweaty, and cranky.

- Pete looks like a cooked shrimp because he refused to put on sunscreen and claimed “real men embrace pain.” (he says as he recoils everytime someone touches him😭)

- Bill is sunburnt RED on just his neck and shoulders because he refused to reapply sunscreen. Said it “wasn’t necessary.” Right. 😒

- Josh is still under the umbrella, muttering about dehydration,

- Jerry’s trying to say goodbye to his sandcastle before it gets washed away,

- Pete’s eating a soggy sandwich he found under his towel like it’s gourmet,

- And you feel like you’ve been babysitting four big toddlers.

- You take a photo before you leave. It’s awful. 😭😭

- Pete’s flipping off the camera,

- Jerry’s smiling extremely awkwardly 😭,

- Josh is squinting into the sun like he’s being interrogated,

- and Bill is halfway out of frame, clearly trying to escape.

- You print it anyway, and tape it to your wall :3

- You’ll never let them live it down 😼

- And next time, you’re bringing water balloons.

- Just to cause problems 🤷🤷

I HOPE YOU LIKED THESEEEEEEE

sorry for taking so long to post these, I have SO many things to do it’s actually insane.

#eltingville epilogue #eltingville fanart #welcome to eltingville #the eltingville club #eltingville jerry #eltingville bill #eltingville pete #eltingville josh #bill dickey #jerry stokes #josh levy #pete dinunzio #beach #beach day #jramblesaboutsoap

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bestanimal · 8 months ago

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Round 2 - Arthropoda - Pycnogonida

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Pycnogonida is a class containing one order: Pantopoda, which means “all feet.” A fitting name for creatures that seem to be made entirely of legs. Commonly called “Sea Spiders”, they are not spiders, nor are they arachnids, but are actually a sister group to all other living arthropods.

Pycnogonids live in most oceans. Most are tiny, living in relatively shallow water, though some can grow to be quite large in antarctic and deep waters. Some pycnogonids are so small that each of their muscles consists of a single cell. They have a proboscis which they use to suck nutrients from soft bodied invertebrates such as cnidarians, sponges, polychaetes, and bryozoans. They can also insert their proboscis into anemones, though this rarely kills the anemone. The pycnogonid digestive tract extends into their legs. They are segmented, with the first body segment (the cephalon) consisting of the proboscis, the ocular tubercle with up to 4 simple eyes, a pair of chelifores, a pair of palps, a pair of ovigers, and the first pair of walking legs. Ovigers are used for cleaning themselves, courtship, and caring for eggs and young. Nymphonidae is the only family where both the chelifores and palps (sensory organs) remain functional. In others, these limbs are reduced or absent, instead relying on a well-developed and flexible proboscis equipped with sensory bristles. Pycnogonids are usually comprised of eight walking legs, but the family Pycnogonidae includes species with ten, and the families Colossendeidae and Nymphonidae include species with up to twelve legs! While most species have up to 4 eyes, some deep-sea species lack them entirely. Pycnogonids do not have a traditional respiratory system, instead absorbing oxygen through their legs and diffusing it throughout their body via hemolymph. Their small, long, thin hearts beat vigorously at 90 to 180 beats per minute, creating substantial blood pressure. Their nervous system consists of a brain which is connected to two ventral nerve cords, which in turn connect to specific nerves. Like other arthropods, they molt their exoskeleton as they grow.

Pycnogonid reproduction involves external fertilization after a brief courtship involving the male stroking the larger female with his ovigers and receiving the eggs if she is responsive. The couple must adjust their position until the genital pores on their legs are perfectly aligned. Only males will care for eggs and young, and in some species only the males will have ovigers while the females do not, as these limbs are used mainly for carrying and cleaning the eggs. Larvae consist only of a head with chelifores, palps and ovigers. Extra segments and legs emerge as it grows into an adult. There are at least four different types of larvae. The typical protonymphon larva is most common, is free living and gradually turns into an adult. The encysted larva spends its larval days as a parasite, finding a host in a colony of polyps, burrowing into one, turning into a cyst, and not leaving the host until it has become a juvenile. The atypical protonymphon larva lives on or within a temporary host such as a clam or polychaete worm, does not encyst or otherwise harm their host, and leaves them as an adult. Lastly, the attaching larva hatches as an embryo and immediately clings to the legs of its father, only leaving once it has two or three pairs of its own walking legs.

The pycnogonid’s cerebral appendages are unique, not found anywhere else among arthropods, except in fossils like Anomalocaris. This could mean that pycnogonids are the last surviving (highly modified) members of an ancient stem group of arthropods that lived in Cambrian oceans.

Propaganda under the cut:

They are good dads. All of them. Perfect fathers made of legs.

Their leg arrangement allows them to move forward, backward, and sideways without turning their body.

The genus Colossendeis (image 2) includes the largest pycnogonids, which live in the ocean depths. Some of them are even bioluminescent! The largest is Colossendeis colossea which can reach a leg span of 70 cm (28 in). However, their body length, including proboscis and abdomen, only reaches 7 cm (2.8 in).

About 20% of the known species of pycnogonids live in Antarctica. The cold never bothered them anyway.

One known species, Ascorhynchus corderoi, is hermaphroditic, having both ovaries and testes.

#round 2 #animal polls #arthropoda #Pycnogonida

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casuallyanidiot · 10 months ago

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The Beta Test | Chapter 1

[yandere M x Gn Reader]

Local party animal and known social butterfly [name] wakes up to find that they've been abducted by their very reclusive and very wealthy classmate. Why, you might ask, did he do this? Well for one reason of course! He needs to know how he's going to talk to his crush! So now, with their freedom on the line, [name] has to figure out how to get this kid with the one of his dreams or risk never leaving at all. Lots of weird conversations ensue, of course.

2.1 k words Tw. Swearing, kidnapping, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of drugging, yandere behavior Prologue Table of contents

West Grove University wasn’t a super large school. It was important to mention this because, as it would happen, you were very well known there. It wasn’t a hard feat to reach, mind you, but still, there were few people who hadn’t heard of you. This was of course because of the fact that you would appear at every single social function that you could.

Frat parties, fundraisers, birthdays, even baby showers: if you were invited, you were going. Since you were everywhere, it was only natural that you knew people too. In fact, you knew exactly who the man sitting in front of you was at a glance.

“ Oh you’re from my economics lecture,” you said tiredly. When the words left your lips, he looked to be almost as confused as you were.

“ You know me ?” he asked in disbelief and leaned forward. His chair squealed under his weight and you groaned.

‘My brain is fried,’ you thought with a grimace. You waved at him lazily.

“ Yeah, you’re Javier, right? Kinda hard not to know you,” you croaked out. Man, your vocal cords felt like they were grating against each other like sandpaper or, like, unspooled yarn. It was a sore reminder that however you had ended up here, it had certainly not been your choice in the slightest. You began shifting around, massaging at your sore and unused muscles. Like you had noticed before, there wasn’t anything in the cell in which you sat. The cold hard floor was biting into your ass, and it did very little to stop you from aching.

It only took a glance to know that he was surprised by your admission, though it was true. Once again, your class size was kinda small compared to some other schools, and that meant that anyone worthy of note was destined to be infamous. While you were talked about due to your outgoing behavior, Javier over here was known for the exact opposite.

He was a young man of little words, barely heard even speaking to professors after lectures in a hushed tone. He was elusive too. You even had a class with him, yet you could count the number of times he had appeared through the year on one hand. Despite the fact that he was never present, the boy still managed to maintain high-ranking scores with ease. It was pretty impressive actually. Though what made him stand out to you, in particular, were two facts.

One: Javier was so fucking gloomy. Any time he walked into a room, whether that be in a lecture hall or simply passing by in the library, you swear a cloud of darkness followed him in. His posture was always slouched, and bags hung under his eyes like he'd never had a wink of sleep in his entire life. While his clothes, which always seemed to be a pair of black sweats and a white T-shirt, were always clean, his long shoulder-length hair constantly rode the line of looking either greasy or sleek; you could never really decide if it was either of the two.

Two: Javier was, apparently, pretty rich. While he never showed up to lectures, he did go to the secluded and quiet area of the library that you also liked to kick around in. He usually floated over to sit behind a bookshelf in a corner, probably where he thought no one could see him, right in your line of vision. Granted you could only see him because the bookshelf itself wasn't actually packed with, ya know, books, so it was easy to catch a glimpse of him. The dude had the whole fucking apple ecosystem in his bag. Not to mention the luxury brand stationery that he used casually. In fact, everything on him from his slides to the backpack he used was waaaay beyond what the average uni student should be spending, and so casual too.

Of course you were insanely curious about the quiet, mysterious, and rather wealthy kid that nobody knew anything about! It was only natural. Some people even claimed to have seen him getting into his car which he parked in a secluded area. To no surprise, you were shown multiple photos of him getting into a foreign car with nice rims and everything.

"Who the fuck is this guy?" They would slur to you drunkenly at whatever party you were at. The phone in their hand would be glowing with whatever blurry pic they had taken, and you would squint at it and shrug.

"No idea."

The little bits of info you got were nothing, but now it seemed like that was going to change. You were going to know Javier Galvan because you had this, I dunno, sneaking suspicion that you had definitely been kidnapped by him.

" R-really?" He blinked at you rapidly with his dark eyes, a finger jabbed at his own chest. You winced and nodded. " Wow, I uh, I didn't think you would. I thought that… I thought that I was going to have to uh introduce myself and stuff…" he trailed off. There was a nervous smile quirked up on his lips, and he shifted his gaze to the side like it was physically impossible to actually look at your curled-up body on the floor. You squinted at him with an eyebrow raised. No fucking way. There was no way that this guy was actually embarrassed by the fact that he had abducted you.

" Well, that's good then. One step further than I had planned I guess," he said, kind of quietly too, and sheepishly rubbed his neck.

" Yeaaaah right. Do you like… mind telling me what's happening right now?" You asked. There was no use putting it off. You weren't one for mind games either, so it was best to just rip the band aid off so to speak.

Once again, Javier looked stunned by anything you said. Not sure why he was so surprised. You were never the most silent person in the room by any means. He should at least know that much about you. He stayed quiet, and now that you were started to get over the initial spike of fear and confusion, annoyance was fully taking its hold. You gestured, a bit aggressively, at the bars separating the cold cell from the actual room.

" Ohhhhh, Sorry. My bad. You're, uh, probably really confused right now, huh?" He laughed a little. This little shit. He kidnapped you, and he was fucking giggling?

" Uhhhh yeah. That's one way you could take it," you said dryly. The sarcasm in your voice was enough to remind you of the fact that you were very dehydrated at this time. His smile immediately dropped instantly, and you rolled your eyes at his kicked puppy demeanor. If you had known that he was this weird, then you wouldn't have wasted so much of your energy wondering about him.

" O-okay. So, um, you are [Name] [Last name], right?" It took everything in your system to not do a visible double take at that.

" Um Yes?"

He let out a large sigh, posture slumping with relief. " Oh okay. That's good. Good. It would be, haha, like really bad if you weren't," he said while wiping his face. His sweaty palms could probably be seen from space.

" We have classes together man. I like see you in the library almost everyday."

" Oh, uh, yeah that's right. You're right, sorry."

You pursed your lips as he went on fumbling and fidgeting with his hands. Gloomy and socially awkward. What a combo.

" Uh so now that we've been introduced, um, I guess I should tell you why I brought you here haha," he said and finally stood up from his chair. He was pretty tall, and loomed over your huddled up self with ease. He was lanky, like a pole, and you shuddered.

It was easy to forget in your addled brain that you were, in fact, in a very dangerous situation. When hunched in on himself, Javier didn't feel that threatening at all, but now it was clear that this could potentially be very nasty. Had he taken you for revenge of some kind? Did he somehow read your mind over the course of months and dislike the odd light you held him in? Or was it for something dumb like you badmouthing a friend of his? Who knows. If he was rich enough to have a ( pretty nicely decorated) room with a cell in it, then who knows what other crazy shit could be stirring in his head.

" Okay so… I know that you're friends with a lot of people. And um, everybody seems to like you even though you're kinda annoying," He started. Ouch. Coming from him that was not a good assessment of your character.

Still, he looked down at you expectantly after a few moments of silence. You blinked and waved for him to continue. He smiled ,like he'd been cheered on in race, and took a deep breath.

" So if people think you're cool and like you, then it means that you're doing something right that I'm not." He placed his hands on the bars. They were so tightly gripped that you could see the paleness form on his brown skin.

" I'll put this bluntly. You're good with people. I don't really get why, but you are, and I'm not. So I need you to help me out," he said. His tone was more serious than before, and the look of his face was anything but rational. In fact he looked void of any emotion.

" Let me guess... I don't really have a choice in this, do I?" You stated, eyes narrowed up at him. The tension held between the two of you was now fully out. If you didn't have a headache before, you certainly would've gotten one by now.

" Well," he said while leaning back," You do... but it would be kind of dumb considering where you're at and all." He looked you up and down as his last words came dripping out of his lips. His almost meek demeanor was completely gone by now.

" So uh, yeah, I need your help. Umm, this is a little weird, but I want you to help me date the girl that I've been in love with all year," he sighed out. You didn't miss the dreamy and wistful stare he held as he glanced up into the ceiling.

" Wait? That's it?" You asked. Was this guy fucking with you? Like a cruel prank or whatever?

" Unfortunately yes..." he groaned out. " I'm going to be honest with you [Last Name], I'm...Well I'm hopeless. I've tried out so many different things to make me more appealing to her, but nothing works!"

" So forcing me to be your, what? Chad alpha dude coach? Was you're next best option?" You asked, eyes wide and with the most amount of sarcasm you could muster. He nodded sadly as a sinking realization, even bigger than being kidnapped, came upon you.

You were going to have to get this crazy, antisocial, creepy, and downright pathetic guy with the girl of his dreams? Yeah, this was way too far out for even you.

You sighed ," So, let me get this straight. You kidnapped me so you could talk to a girl better."

He nodded.

" And you did this because you couldn't do it yourself."

He nodded again, looking a bit more embarrassed this time.

" And you're probably not going to let me go until you start dating this girl, are you?"

He winced, and you felt even more annoyed than you thought was possible. Oh yeah cause HE had the right to be bashful here. He cleared his throat gently, refusing to stare in your direction.

" Yes, um, if you help me date this girl before the next school year, then I will let you go," he said. Hints of that serious and firm nature you had previously seen came bubbling up again. You could see the coldness behind his lashes a mile away. Yeah, this guy was not okay.

" What happens if you don't? Get with her I mean."

It was a simple question, really. Still, his head shot up from its limp state as he looked at you unblinking. His dark hair pooled at his shoulders, and the dim lighting of the room hardly allowed for a full look at him. Still, you could feel the dead gaze, unyielding and terrifying. You shrunk back in shock.

" Well, let's hope that doesn't happen," he said simply before leaving the room. The thud of the door and the click of the lock was deafening, and you flinched away.

In the corner of a cold cell in an unfamiliar room, you pressed your hands to your face as you came to the conclusion that you were completely and utterly fucked.

#yandere x reader #the beta test #javier #yandere male #yandere #tw yandere #my writing #my ocs #tw kidnapping #x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #stalker yandere #stalker #chapter 1

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zyart-jpg · 14 days ago

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anything for you queen <3 this is so domestic but chaotic lol, i might do Hajun and Hyuk next, but I wrote my babies for now; Wooin and Vinny!

dedicated to: @dzvelinaskebiyars THIS ONE'S FOR YOU!

Pairing/s: Wooin Yoo x Reader & Vinny Hong x Reader (separate)

Summary: Couples who annoys each other, stays forever (based on THIS lololol)

Tags: Fluff, Established RS, Annoying!Wooin, Cutie!Vinny<3

“BAAAAAABE!”

The scream tore through the apartment like a banshee’s cry, sharp and unexpected. It punched through the quiet so violently that your heart didn’t just skip a beat—it full-on evacuated your chest.

You bolted upright, the blanket tangled around your legs as you scrambled off the couch, nearly face-planting as you ran toward the kitchen in a panic. Your brain spun in every direction—was he on fire? Did he cut himself? Did the stove explode? Was there a rat? A ghost?

What you found instead was Wooin.

Disheveled, shirt slightly askew, standing by the stove with the expression of a man who had seen death and decided to wrestle it. His arms were stretched out like a dramatic martyr, both hands gripping the sides of a cooking pot with the lid clenched tightly on top like it was the only thing keeping a portal to hell from opening.

He met your gaze, eyes wide with faux urgency.

“Hold this!” he barked, voice laced with the kind of intensity reserved for war zones and K-drama finales.

“What the hell is—Wooin!” you cried, rushing over and immediately scanning him from head to toe. “Are you bleeding? Is something on fire? Are you on fire?”

“No time!” he gasped, shoving the pot at you with such force that your hands reflexively latched onto the lid. “Just—hold it! Don't let go!”

He covered your hands with his for emphasis before letting go and backing away dramatically like he’d just handed you a time bomb.

You stood there, clutching a suspiciously normal-looking pot, while Wooin pulled out his phone with the stealth of a man plotting war crimes.

You blinked at him. “What exactly am I holding in?” you asked slowly, the sheer absurdity of the situation starting to leak through the cracks of your concern.

“My scream,” he said, completely straight-faced. “I trapped it.”

You stared.

“It’s in there.”

He stared back, deadpan.

The silence was deafening. Somewhere, a single brain cell in your mind—shared in sympathy with his last functioning one—shrieked.

“You. Trapped. A scream. In a pot.”

He nodded gravely. “It’s science.”

“Wooin, I swear—”

“If you lift the lid without preparing your heart,” he warned, holding up one finger, “We’re gonna blow up, babe.”

You inhaled slowly through your nose. The kind of inhale people do before committing a crime.

Meanwhile, Wooin—your loving, idiotic boyfriend—had the audacity to start fiddling with his phone, grinning like a child about to prank their teacher.

“Alright, babe,” he said, stepping back and holding the phone like he was a wildlife documentarian. “On my count. One…”

You narrowed your eyes and gripped the pot a little tighter.

“Two…”

You tilted your head. Maybe throw it at him? Maybe straight out the window?

“Three!”

With a heavy, resigned sigh, you lifted the lid.

Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down—

The opening bars of the Rickroll exploded from his phone was the cherry on top.

“YOU SON OF A—”

The pot flew from your hands with the force of the ancestors behind it.

Wooin let out an unholy screech as he dodged, barely managing to twist out of the way, laughter bubbling from his chest like a man who had absolutely no regrets.

He scrambled behind the kitchen island like a man evading sniper fire—phone still recording, laughter hiccupping out of his lungs in wheezy bursts. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, not from fear, but from sheer, unfiltered amusement at the murderous exasperation on your face.

You didn’t even speak—just launched one of your slippers at him like a heat-seeking missile next, the soft thwap of it hitting the floor inches from his foot only making him cackle louder.

“I hate you!” you shouted, though your mouth twitched with a smile.

“You love me!” he called back.

You’re always annoying him.

“Did you know,” you began, voice thick with mischief as you crept into the kitchen, “that it’s scientifically possible to trap screams in a pot?”

Vinny didn’t even blink. His back remained to you, sleeves rolled up, shoulders moving steadily as he rinsed a plate with all the focused serenity of a monk doing chores in a mountain temple.

“Vinny,” you tried again, louder this time. “I said—you can trap screams.”

“Mmhm,” he replied flatly, without even turning around. His hands were deep in suds, and his tone was so disinterested you could feel the silence he left trailing behind it like an ellipsis of pure judgment.

You weren’t giving up that easily, though.

You grabbed a pot off the drying rack with the grace of a cartoon villain and tiptoed toward him with a conspiratorial grin, cradling it like it was the Holy Grail of dumb ideas.

“Baaaabe,” you sing-songed, leaning your weight dramatically against the counter next to him, the pot balanced in your palms. “Vinny. Listen. This is important science.”

He exhaled through his nose—barely a breath, but enough to say “Here we go again.”

“I trapped mine earlier today,” you said, trying to keep a straight face. “I locked it in the pot. It’s still in here. Angry. Violent. Waiting.” You wiggled your eyebrows and lifted the pot slightly for dramatic effect.

Vinny turned his head only slightly, just enough to glance at you from the corner of his eye. “Was that before or after you failed to toast a waffle and nearly set off the smoke alarm?”

You gasped, clutching the pot to your chest like he’d just insulted your firstborn.

“That was a technical glitch, and we agreed never to speak of it again!"

“We agreed on nothing,” he muttered, turning back to the dishes. “You bribed me with frozen grapes and begged for a do-over.”

You narrowed your eyes, stepping closer.

“Okay, but seriously. I want to show you. Just hold the lid.”

“No.”

“I swear it’s real.”

“No.”

“Just hold it, Vin—”

“I’m not holding your imaginary tantrum in a pot.”

“YOU’RE RUINING THE EXPERIMENT!”

Still unmoved, he reached for a dish towel and tossed it onto the counter without so much as a glance in your direction.

So you went for it anyway.

You shoved the pot toward him and held the lid like it was about to burst. “Okay, I’m opening it—on three.”

Vinny kept drying a mug, calm as a sea during low tide.

“One…”

No reaction.

“Two…”

Still nothing.

You cracked the lid open just enough for your phone, already cued up in the other hand, to blare:

Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down—

The Rickroll echoed proudly through the kitchen.

He didn't even flinch.

Instead, he set the mug down with painstaking care, turned his head, and gave you a long, tired stare—equal parts disbelief and wonder why he’s here willingly, with you.

“...Really?” he said, utterly deadpan.

You grinned, not even trying to look innocent.

He flicked water at your face. Not a splash. Just a single, pointed flick.

You gasped like you’d been struck by lightning.

“TRAITOR!”

“I knew it was something stupid.” he said, grabbing another plate. “You always do stupid.”

You stood there for a beat, soaked in defeat (and a few droplets), lips jutting in a curl of betrayal.

“So you didn’t think it was even a little funny?” you asked.

Vinny finally turned to face you, his expression softening just slightly at your dramatic little frown.

He stepped closer, towel slung over his shoulder, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

“You’re ridiculous,” he murmured.

MASTERLIST

#windbreaker manhwa #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker vinny #windbreaker wooin #wooin yoo x reader #vinny hong x reader #windbreaker webtoon #windbreaker sabbath #sabbath crew #sabbath windbreaker

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oksana-moods · 11 months ago

Text

All Too Well

Summary: Natasha tried to mend what's left broken. Because no matter what, she's the love of your life and she knows all too well.

A/N: It's been forever. This 5k piece felt like I was writing 300k, it was difficult, funny, hard and I miss doing this more often. I hope you guys like it and please, it be amazing for me to know your thoughts about it.

You can read it as One Too Many part 2 or as a single piece, it is up to you.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, torture, mentions of death, alcohol, angst (you know how I am, I can't simply write people kissing without suffering before).

"Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place"

The gun pointing at your face barely meters away should be intimidating, but at this point no one would blame you for not caring anymore. And you didn’t even mean the last couple of days, no, your whole life had been a fight, a struggle, an act of survival after another, so the last few days were nothing but the same blur.

The gunpower inundated your nostrils and the pungent smell masqueraded the smell of blood that clung to your brain and you were sure you wouldn’t erase it even if you got out of your current establishment.

Your heightened senses were capable of decerning all the different blood samples available in your cell: yours and from other occupants that came before you, or the blood that belonged to some of your kidnappers, who’ve learned in the worst possible way that you were not to be underestimated.

Back to the gun, the man behind it kept enchanting the same questions and you wondered how long it would take for them to get tired of your silence or mock replies. A sharp pain in the back of your head made you look up to meet his eyes, another man behind you was forcefully pulling your hair down to force your head up and you were already tired of him doing this.

“Where are the others?” The man with the gun asked, patience waning thin. Good to know you were on the same page. “Where is Romanoff?”

A blooded grin made its way to your face after you spat on his shoe. “It’s funny you think I’ll tell you now after all you’ve put me through. Do you think I’m afraid of your bullet?” And you didn’t even mean the fact that you probably wouldn’t die if he decided to shoot anywhere else other than your head, but you did mean that you were not afraid of dying.

Actually, you were so tired that perhaps laying down cold wouldn’t be unwelcomed. There wouldn’t be any pain, your body wouldn’t try to heal only to get hurt again. You thought it would be refreshing.

Two steps and the man pressed the gun over your knee, and you already knew, his wicked grin grew wider when your body convulsed with pain even though you concealed your scream in muffled grunts by biting your lips so tide you tasted your own blood, again.

“Why don’t you make it easier for you? You tell me what I’ve asked, and I kill you fast.” He pulled a chair and got comfortable for he knew all too well you wouldn’t budge easy. “I promise you. One silver bullet in your temple. Fast. Easy.”

Your eyes flashed to his. Silver bullets were really affective against your healing skills and very few possessed this knowledge. Someone must’ve tipped him off and the idea stung way much more than the powder burning the flesh inside your knee.

Only two women knew your weakness. Well, your creators knew, of course, but they were not in condition of speaking anymore. Unless someone from this organization was capable of going to hell to have a chat and then return to the living world with this intel.

Your love for Yelena was something so natural and it grew so fast for she was just deranged as you were: uncapable of functioning as what people labeled as normal. You were kindred souls and you felt like you were twins separated somewhere along the road and considering both of your past, who actually knew?

After long nights during long missions, you confided in her this. You were scared of losing control because sometimes the beast inside you took over and your brain couldn’t always sway the instincts. So you handed her one silver bullet in case things went south, she was adamant in returning it to you but you asked her to keep it, for insurance.

And the other person was Natasha. You never knew how she learned this but when she recruited you many, many years ago she already knew. If the pain in your leg wasn’t so overwhelming, you could’ve laughed at the memory engulfing your mind’s eye.

Her tide catsuit adorned with nothing but her black widow symbol, swaying her hips and pretending she wasn’t scared of the woman seated in front of her. You remember how her fear smelled, a stark contrast to her pose. You recall her words, her smile, her flirtatious play all to convince you to use your skills to her so called greater good.

And before leaving, she boldly closed the distance between you and placed a silver bullet in your hand. You understood the message. You weren’t stupid. Later she sworn that she was the only one, at S.H.I.E.L.D. or within Avengers, to know your weakness and you believed her.

And this belief comes back to bite you in the ass.

Because you knew full well that Yelena would die, she would kill herself even, before telling someone your secret. But Natasha? You didn’t trust her anymore. She had done it before, and you knew it all too well. If you were to be honest, after one too many treasons, you didn’t care about another.

Or so you told yourself.

“Good luck.” You rasped out after a long time inside your own head.

The man tilted his head to the side and smiled that smile that told you he already knew what you would say. You would go further and say he was eager for it. “I think in the torture manual says I should tell you that I don’t enjoy this, but I’d be lying. We actually bet how long it will take for you to drop the act and start screaming.”

You bet no one thought it would be that fast. He stumped a knife down your thigh so fast and so hard you saw stars. You could feel the silver poisoning the skin and muscle where it was nested, and it burned like nothing else would.

Unfortunately for them, the apex in you was not used to be a prey and this injury was powerful enough to make your survival instincts kick in. It happened so fast it was a haze, one minute he was laughing, the other he was on the ground - lifeless, and just as the others came, they followed their leader – well, who you thought the leader was, at least.

Funnily, your countdown was wrong, or you were not the only one putting your captors down. As the blood ran free down your leg, your strength and capability of keeping fighting diminished. When a body collided with yours, it was a miracle you were still awake.

Her red hair framed her face perfectly, skin white as snow and her green orbs looked like there was an aurora borealis looking down at you as she nested you in her lap as you felt life slipping through your fingers - veins.

“Hey, hey. Stay with me.” Her voice was strange, as if speaking was a struggle and she reeked fear, but not the same you were used to, as if she was feeling a different type of fear, it was a strange concept, but you hated it, nonetheless. If these were your last moments breathing, you wanted her true smell. The one you knew all too well.

“Please, don’t you dare die. I’ve got you.” Her muffled words found your ear, but it was hard to even comprehend anything at all when her lips felt so cold in your forehead. “Heal. Why are you not healing?”

“Silver.” It was all you could say. It was all you had to say.

She frantically started yelling at someone, perhaps the comms, but before you could close your eyes for good, you saw a red blur and he was complaining about your weight.

Her giggle filled the room as the first sun lights announced the day had just begun, you looked at her alarmed, for it was definitely something new. “Are you mocking me?” Enable to conceal a smile yourself.

“I’m not.” She denied, but her laugh told you differently. Her freckles painted her angelical face and her eyes looked like they held the sun captive. And you. And she knew, all too well. “It’s just I can’t believe you still have this scar.”

Her index finger traced said scar as she looked at you expectantly, waiting for your explanation, even though she already knew.

“I didn’t know Wanda’s necklace was made of silver, okay.” You finally replied, pulling her close to you as if her weight meant nothing, right in that moment this action felt so normal, so homely that it ached. “I thought I could take it from that heated place for her, but it burned me as I did. It was silly.”

She giggled again, though muffled by your shoulder this time, there was something new in her eyes that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “It was cute. Silly, but cute. That necklace belonged to her mother.”

“I know.” You were locked in her eyes, and she stared at you as if she was trying to reach your soul, then you felt her fingertip leaving the palm of your hand to intertwine your fingers as she let her eyes stray to look at both of your hands.

The feeling was overwhelming. You were aware of how fast your heart was beating, you could only hope she couldn’t feel or hear it, for in that moment, all you wanted was to engrave the sight of you, together, and you wish you could just have this forever. Have her forever.

“I’ve never felt this before.” Her brows were furrowed in a way that made you upset, but you wouldn’t let go of her hand for nothing in this world, even if it was to soothe the crinkles in her forehead. “I’m in love with you.”

For a moment, there was nothing that you could do but wait for your brain to register her words and meaning, for a whole minute you simply stared at her, trying to search for a catch or a joke but you found none. And she looked up at you so innocently that you found yourself believing in her.

“I thought-.” You tried, but she never let you finish your sentence.

“I know what I said.” She stopped you midsentence, but her voice was not stern, it was almost tired. “This is not what I feel anymore.” Again, her eyes found yours and the way they shone made your knees weak, luckily you were laying on her mattress.

Somehow, they conveyed so much of this feeling she had claimed she was not capable of nurturing that your stomach did somersaults. And right in that moment, you realized that perhaps silver could hurt you, but this woman was your true weakness.

Specially if she’s looking at you the way she was.

“You already know how I feel about you.” You whispered, it was terrifying saying again the three words that you were sure would make her fly away from this strange arrangement you found yourself in. Yet she didn’t.

“I know.” She confirmed after a while admiring your eyes as if she could read your mind. After deciding she was content with whatever she found, she leaned in and pecked your lips so tenderly it hurt.

Then, when she looked at you again you saw, from the small smirk growing in her lips, that she had gone back to play her prime character: the Black Widow.

“Let’s have a breakfast before the funeral, shall we?” As she got of the bad, you copied her movements going back to your own suitcase to find something comfortable as her voice broke the silence filling the room. “I never asked how you and Sharon became friends to the point you’d come to a funeral of her relative.”

The cleanliness of the room was the first thing you were aware of. In fact, you didn’t even realize you were awake, therefore alive, before the smell hit your nostrils. And with it, her scent.

The occasional up and down from her feet and bouncing leg was the only sound in the room except for the noise coming from the heart monitor over your head. She was anxious, that much was obvious even if you weren’t an enhanced being.

Mentally searching for your injuries and pain, you understood that whatever had happened with you, was all gone. Excluding the lingering pain in some specific places that you credited to silver induced wounds that would take way much more time to wear off.

However, considering the state you were in, whoever tended these wounds had operated a true miracle.

As you opened your eyes, you half expected bright lights, common to these hospital rooms to hurt your eyes, but you soon identified that the only source of light was a yellow bulb close to the door.

Natasha.

“Thanks for working the lights down.” You rasped out and stifled a giggle as she jumped from her chair by the wall and bolted to your bed side. The book previously nested between her hands now long forgotten on the floor.

The iron grip which she clutched your hand didn’t go amiss to you. “A week.” The sadness in her eyes was palpable. “A whole week blacked out.” She explained further but you didn’t need to know the details of how long you were sleeping or how many times your heart stopped at surgery.

“You scared the shit out of me.” Then it hit you, the same type of fear your nose caught when she found you in that facility, it was fear but not the one someone feels when they’re actively facing danger, but it was fear for someone else. Fear of losing someone.

Something stirred inside your heart, but it was something that you couldn’t dwell much longer, not, at least, in that moment.

“They had me, after you sent me as scout.” Your tone was flat, and her eyes widened a little at the bluntness of your accusation, though you were far from settling for little. “They knew about the silver.”

Her hold faltered, but your hand was still snuggled between hers. “What are you accusing me of?” She narrowed her eyes, but her green orbs were bright even in the poor light.

“Cynicism doesn’t suit you the way you think it does.” Before you could even pull back your hand, she completely let it go and got to her feet. “Look at my eyes and tell me that you actually didn’t let them get me, just to find their hideout.”

She had her back turned to you, acutely avoiding your gaze. “Look at me!” You demanded and she had the gall to look at you through her lashes, as if her seductive skills could help her now. You wouldn’t fall for that, and she knew it all too well.

“It wasn’t my intention for you to be captured and I never thought someone else would know about your weakness. I thought I was the only one alive to know.” She finally turned to you, eyes now darting around the floor as if it could grant her the answers she sought.

“Lena knows too.” You corrected her, but if she was surprised by your update, she never showed.

Shaking her head right to left as if to deny such possibility, she exclaimed. “She’d never do this to you.” It was funny that at least in this matter you agreed. “I think she loves you more than she loves me.” A sly smile escaped her lips and you had to restrain your heart from fluttering at the sight of it.

“I was waiting for your check-in. I went to your assigned coordinates, and I know I underestimated their numbers, but I would never let someone capture you.” Her feet dragged her back close to your bed but maintained some distance between you.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” You shot back without missing a single beat, crossing your arms around your chest.

She sighed tiredly and looked down at the floor. You wouldn’t let her forget that she was the main cause for you to be locked in the Raft, well, her and your support for Steve when Ross tried to shove the Sokovian Accords down your throat, and solely because you shared his point of view.

After being controlled for most of your life by a group with shady intentions, you swore you’d never submit your loyalty and services to a third party again, even if it was a government group – specially a government group, actually, so only over your dead body you’d accept the Accords.

But when you came back to see if Natasha was fine, she had gone without thinking that you were left behind and in the care of Ross to be taken to the Raft with the others, without sparing a single thought to you.

“I’d never ever willingly put you in danger.” She said taking another step closer to you. “I have never mentioned to anyone about your secret, and I purposefully kept it out of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files.”

Her eyes kept darting from her hands to your eyes, never focusing, never staying too long. “Look, I know Yelena would never speak about it, but I wouldn’t either. And I didn’t, you must believe me!”

“I must?” Your eyebrows shot up so high so fast it hurt. “Well, you made it pretty damn hard for me to believe, don’t you think, Nat?” Your tone was hard, but you were not even speaking too loud.

Somehow, Natasha thought this hurt way much more.

“C’mon all I feel for you-” She tried to counter, but you wanted to swallow the lump stuck in your throat trying to choke you, so you cut her midsentence.

“Words, Natasha.” She found herself locked within your burning eyes. “I kept you as an oath, yet you hid me like another dirty secret. And all you’ve felt you kept hidden – buried – just as who you really are.”

After years thinking about how she lured and how she hurt you, you thought that maybe spatting what your relationship really was – a hidden lust, would make you feel better, would free yourself from her hold, but it didn’t.

After all, calling her unfair wouldn’t change how lonely she made you feel, how she took your happiness away whenever she drew herself back to her main character as she left you daydreaming about imaginary scenarios built in “what ifs”.

As your words found her ears, they settled heavily in her stomach. She knew she had massed up, she had hurt you many times, yet all she wanted was go back in time and erase all her wrongs and all the times she promised and never delivered.

She didn’t possess a time stone, though. There was nothing she could do about the past, however, she knew she couldn’t run from her mistakes anymore. If she wanted to start anew, she’d have to show she was different.

She wanted to, no, she needed you to understand that she was a whole new person because you’ve changed her. She didn’t want to hide anymore and for that she’d have to let go of her walls and be vulnerable. Truly vulnerable.

Funnily, she had played with her vulnerability before, being vulnerable just enough for people to lower their shields or masks so she could get what she wanted but this was something else entirely.

This time she wouldn’t act. She’d be vulnerable, at your mercy hoping she’d make it out alive on the other side. It was something new and it scared her, but losing you was scarier.

“I didn’t know you came back to check on Barton…” She tried weakly, knowing that this was a sore subject for the both of you. Each with your own views and reasons.

“I helped Clint, yes, but we went back looking for you. Yet, Ross was all we’ve found.” Your glare was cold, perhaps colder than ever. In the pit of her stomach, she knew she deserved it, she just wish you could move on with it.

“I was wrong, okay. Is that what you want to hear?” She snapped, though her voice was still in a low tone, eyes sad. And you hated it. “I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for not going after you that day at the airport or at the Raft.”

Her eyes fell once more to your hands, she slowly nursed them in hers and this action was so soft, so hesitantly as if she was afraid of you taking it away; afraid of you shutting her down once more.

“I wish I could do things differently, but I can’t, and for that I’m sorry. But I- I wish we could try move on from this. I still have feelings for you.” As words flowed through her tongue, you watched as eyes portrayed a sincerity that you rarely saw within those forest green orbs.

Usually, they hid her true feelings or performed like an actress twisting her truths mixed with pieces of lies and characters she created through life until she herself was unaware of what was true or not.

“I hear you, Natasha.” You rasped out after a long moment lost inside her beautiful eyes. “You speak of things as you did before, yet you never act on it.”

Her hands were warm, a muted invitation to go back to your dreams of having a life with her. The only person who never showed any sign of fear about your nature, that never once treated you like an animal.

She never treated you like a woman either.

“I want you to show me.” Your stone-cold eyes punctuated your feelings in the matter at hand. If she wanted to have you back, she’d have to show you she’s changed for words could only take her so far.

“I will.” She vowed and smiled softly, though her heart was shattering inside her chest. She made a career making people believe in whatever she wanted, she supposed she’d be able to make you believe in her heart.

How hard would that be?

Laugh filled the room after another not-so-funny Tony’s jokes and your head throbbed as the sound echoed inside your skull. Parties like these were always a torture for you, after all, your enhanced abilities of hearing and catching smells better than a normal person proved to be really awful in a place full of people with different perfumes, scents, chattering and loud music.

However, Tony himself forbid you from leaving tonight for this was his engagement party and it would be rude to Pepper if you left too early. Deciding that indulging him was easier than arguing with him, you found a safe corner and pretended to enjoy whatever was going on.

Though, your sharp eyes, even though you tried hard, always wandered after a certain redhead and you could all but clench your jaw every time you judged someone got too closer for your comfort.

Jealousy clawed its way through your throat and even the best bourbon from the bar couldn’t help it. You knew you had no right, no claim, especially after your last conversation. Still, your heart acted on its own and made sure you’d regret your words and resolve.

Considering that you were one drink from scooping lower than ever for her, you abandoned your glass on a random table and vanished to the balcony in hopes the fresh air could help your head and brain.

The cars down the streets ran from side to side completely unaware of your inner turmoil as you pathetically looked down searching for answers you wouldn’t find there.

In fact, as your answers arrived at the balcony, you realized that her hills clicking the marble floor announced her before her perfume invaded your nostrils in waves as she moved closer and closer towards you.

“Tired of mingling?” She asked as she lined her body at the railing. Her red hair bobbed around her ears in meticulously designed waves and her dark maroon dress hugged her curves in all the nice places.

She was flawless.

As always.

“I think I might’ve break Sam with incredible five words.” You gave her a sly smile that she retributed with a smirk and a fake gasp.

“This is basically a whole speech.” She clicked her tongue playfully. “I think you’ve been around Tony just too much.”

You snorted a laugh and she let a broad smile paint her lips, content with herself for making you ease the pained expression adorning your face the whole evening.

Uncertenty hugged you like a cold blanket as you pondered your next words. As if rolling the dices in a game you were sure you’d end up losing, you turned to her and spoke. “You’re really beautiful tonight, Nat.”

Your heart fluttered as she fought back a smile trying to win her lips and looked down as if she wasn’t expecting your praise. She genuinely looked flustered by your words.

“Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself. Well, I already praised your choice of suit, earlier.” She turned her body so now she was fully looking at you and you tried to remember how to properly breath. However, it was as if the air was composed of her scent.

You were intoxicated.

“What do you mean?” You asked confused. “This is the first time we speak tonight.” You clarify. Truth be told you’ve been keeping a fair distance from her and funnily enough she didn’t make the effort to push you and your comfort space.

She did make it obvious that she was trying, though. She invited you out in front of people, she brought you coffee whenever you were reading in the garden in the morning or brought you a blanket when you were on the couch watching movies with Wanda.

Whenever you were called to a meeting, she worked the lights so it wouldn’t hurt your eyes that much. And, one day, she brought you the files they recovered from Hydra from the mission you were taken, and you both learned that one of your creators left behind a journal and there were a lot of dirty secrets down there. Including yours.

To be honest, she was really trying to show her true intentions, but you were still afraid that this was just for show, just a ploy for you to lower your guard and be disappointed after she return to her normal pattern of misleading.

However, the way she stood basking in the moon light looking at you like she was slowly sipped through the cracks of your determination of not giving in that easy.

Her soft smile was a sight to see, and you even forgot that you were waiting for her to reply. “Directly, yes. I sent a drink to you earlier.”

Then it clicked in your head. Your laugh was loud and very uncharacteristic of you, though Natasha simply stood there admiring your carefree stance, a rare occurrence.

Your mind traveled to a moment earlier that night when the waiter approached you with a drink in hand, stating that the lady had sent it to you complimenting your fine tailored suit. At the time, the way he vaguely waved in the direction of Agatha and other ladies, you thought that one of them had been the person.

Though if you thought harder about it, Natasha was at the bar in that moment, right behind said ladies.

“Now it made sense.” You grinned back at her and nodded your head softly. “Thank you for the compliment and the drink.”

“Of course.” She flashed on last smile and turned her body to admire the city bellow and you did the same. Though you found it hard to ignore her presence by your side. You could feel the heat emanating from her skin, her sweet scent still impregnating the air around you and you could hear her fast heartbeat. It was uncommon.

In a haste, you both turned towards each other and started to speak at the same time. A nervous laugh scaped your lips as you signaled for her to go on first. And she did.

She closed her eyes as one does when bracing for the impact, as if second-guessing her next step, but when she opened her eyes again, there was no doubt and no deceit. “I love you and it’s ruining my life not having you, knowing that I am the one who pushed you away.”

You were speechless by her blunt confession, specially because she never, ever, used the word love in such a direct sentence. She expressed her feelings before, yes, but always with an adore, in love with you once or twice, never this straight.

She took your silence as hesitancy and reached for your hand, she yearned for your touch and the closeness of the last weeks made her heart clench with longing. “I am asking for a chance to show you who I really am, and I, please, I know I’ve made mistakes, but I wish to make it up to you.”

Her eyes were pools of emotion and you had trouble in breathing with her so close now. “Please, let me love you the way you deserve, the way I should’ve since the very first time I kissed your lips.” Her free hand caressed your cheek in such a tender way that you felt your knees weak.

She was definitely your true weakness.

You brain was haywire, short-circuiting with the lack of air and the sudden increase in your heartbeats. There she was. The woman you felt like you could love forever, offering you what you always wanted: her heart. For real this time. Not the hide and seek games you’ve been playing in the past.

She promised and have been showing changes, however, if you were to be honest, all she’d have to do was to come at you and say hi. If you were to be honest, she would always have your heart at her mercy.

Unable to form words and knowing that your silence was unnerving for her, as you saw her brows furrowing, you decided to answer her differently as you brought your hand to her own cheek and guided her lips to meet yours.

Her lips were soft as they used to be, and you could feel her body melting into the kiss. Her eyes fluttered open when you broke the kiss and smiled softly at her. “I love you too, Nat.”

Smiling back at you, Natasha circled her arms behind your neck to pull you down for another kiss, and another. And another.

And you knew, all too well, that she wouldn’t stop soon.

taglist: @username23345; @afuckingshituniverse; @strangegardentaco; @waltermis (I know you didn't specifically asked to be tagged, but I am doing it, nonetheless, because if your rb - and because you sparked a fire in this. Thank you.)

#natasha romanoff #natasha x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #marvel angst #angst #angst with a happy ending #all too well #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #black widow

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bradleysass · 2 months ago

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stun - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 581

It was supposed to be a quiet study session. Keyword: supposed to.

They had taken over a tucked-away corner in the Hogwarts library. James and Remus sat across from each other, textbooks open but barely touched, quills doodling nonsense instead of notes. Sirius lounged on a nearby armchair like he was posing for a wizarding magazine, tossing a small golden snitch-like stress ball between his fingers, while Regulus sat neatly beside him, legs crossed, inkpot uncapped, already halfway through his Charms essay.

Everything was going suspiciously smooth until Sirius leaned over and muttered something to Regulus about skipping the essay and sneaking into the kitchens instead.

Regulus didn’t even blink. He responded without looking up— In French.

Soft and elegant, the words rolled off his tongue in a perfect Parisian lilt. Sirius cackled in response and shot back something equally smooth. The two of them traded a handful of sentences, voices low and conspiratorial, like they were plotting something only French-speaking devils could comprehend.

James blinked once. Then twice. Then his jaw slowly dropped.

“Since when can you speak French?” he asked, turning to Regulus with the full force of his stunned betrayal. “You don’t even have the accent.”

Regulus finally looked up from his parchment, eyebrows arching in mild amusement. “Since always?” he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Since always?!” James nearly knocked over his ink. “I’ve known you for years, and you’ve never—not once—said anything in French. I thought you were terrible at languages!”

“I am terrible at languages,” Regulus said matter-of-factly. “Except French.”

“Except—” James flailed. “You don’t even pronounce your R’s like a pretentious aristocrat! You sound—normal!”

“That’s the point,” Regulus said coolly. “I am French. It’d be embarrassing to butcher my own language.”

Sirius snorted. “We had a tutor growing up. Mum made sure we could recite Rousseau by age six.”

“I hated Rousseau,” Regulus muttered.

“I thought your insults sounded fancy,” Remus added, smirking into his book.

James was still frozen, scandalized, betrayed, and a little bit in love. “So all this time you could’ve been whispering sweet nothings to me in French and chose not to?”

Regulus finally set his quill down, eyes glittering. “Do you want me to?”

James, very much flustered and now red in the ears, opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “...No, I mean, yes. I mean—that’s not the point! The point is you’ve been hiding your sexy secret language powers!”

“I didn’t think you could handle it.”

Sirius wheezed.

Remus muttered, “He’s right, though.”

Regulus leaned over the table, all mischief and challenge, and murmured something low and musical right in James’ ear.

James promptly forgot how to function.

“What—what did he say?” he asked, looking around like someone else might translate.

Sirius smirked. “Oh, you don’t want to know.”

Remus coughed pointedly. “Definitely not safe for library settings.”

Regulus sat back down, smug and serene, like he hadn’t just scrambled every single one of James’ brain cells. “Now, can we get back to studying?”

James, red-faced and speechless, picked up his quill. And promptly drew a crooked heart with “J + R” in the middle.

Remus saw it. Didn’t comment. But grinned quietly to himself.

And Sirius? Sirius just whispered another line of French to Regulus, who smirked in return.

James groaned. “This is going to become a thing, isn’t it?”

“Oh, mon amour,” Regulus purred, definitely leaning into the accent now. “It already is.”

#marauders #jegulus #sunchaser #starseeker #james potter #regulus black #remus lupin #sirius black #microfic #black brothers microfic

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covid-safer-hotties · 10 months ago

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Global Emergency Compounded by the AIDS-like Features of SARS-CoV-2 Infection - Published Sept 1, 2024

Over a million people in the US are being infected with severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus type 2 (SARS-CoV-2) every day.

Originally named after the acute respiratory syndrome it can cause as a consequence of blood vessel damage in the lungs, SARS-CoV-2 is actually primarily a blood vessel virus that spreads through the airways. It causes a complex multisystem disease (1). It is airborne (2). It can persist in the body, and is detectable in body and brain tissue even at autopsy of “recovered” patients (3).

Each infection ages the body, causes damage to the blood vessels and the immune system, and affects organs including the heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, bones, etc. (4, 5, 6)

Each infection ages the brain. Specifically, it reduces gray matter and cognitive ability (7), and potentially IQ score (8). It increases the risk of psychiatric disorders (9). SARS-CoV-2 has also been identified as contributing to accelerated dementia (10).

The potential post-acute phase impacts of SARS-CoV-2 include long COVID, some manifestations of which are chronic conditions that can last a lifetime, including heart disease, diabetes, myalgic encephalomyelitis and dysautonomia (11).

The Economist has estimated excess deaths from the beginning of the Pandemic through May 2024 at up to 35 million people worldwide. (12)

In Addition, Many Scientists Are Now Issuing Warnings… SARS-CoV-2 triggers a new airborne form of Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (13, 14, 15) (some are proposing specific terms such as “CoV-AIDS”).

This is not AIDS as we know it from human immunodeficiency virus (HIV) infection, it is a new type of acquired immunodeficiency syndrome with different deleterious effects on immune function (16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21), but both resulting in increased vulnerability to infections (22). Immune system deficiency and other COVID properties also suggest a potential link to greater risk of cancers (23, 24, 25, 26, 27).

The “original” AIDS caused by HIV takes up to around 10 to 15 years to make its presence felt, with the initial infection usually barely noticed and often resembling the common cold or a flu-like disease until its damage manifests itself leading to death in the absence of treatments (28, 29).

With SARS-CoV-2, immunodeficiency develops in the weeks and months following infection. It involves reduction and functional exhaustion of T Cells (30), enhanced inhibition of MHC-I expression (31), downregulating CD19 expression in B cells (32) and other evidence of immune dysregulation (33, 34). In one study, the dysregulation persisted for 8 months following initial mild-to-moderate SARS-CoV-2 infection, the length of the study (35). There is no “cure” for any of the damage caused by SARS-CoV-2 including immune dysregulation.

Did You Know? Repeated infections are leading to prolonged immune dysregulation, and increase the risk of progressive disability and death.

Long COVID is a multisystem disease with debilitating symptoms, which has had a profound impact on society and the global economy. In the USA, economists have estimated that long COVID will incur cumulative future costs of more than US$4 trillion (36, 37).

The worldwide devastating economic consequences of this mass disabling event have been measured in terms of total work hours and GDP lost around the world (38).

It theoretically only takes a single viral particle to initiate an infection, and most infections are initiated by very few viral particles (39).

Despite current popular belief, the immune system is NOT a muscle, and does NOT benefit from being repeatedly challenged with disease-causing microbes. In fact, its finite resources are depleted with each new infection.

Herd immunity is unattainable for a rapidly mutating, immune-disrupting virus, and there is no basis to believe that a vascular infection will evolve into the common cold. Continuing to ignore SARS-CoV-2 will not make it go away. Depriving the virus of publicity does not deprive it of its continuing lethal effects.

SARS-CoV-2 is continuing to evolve and mutate – it is not running out of evolutionary space. It is not a cold or the flu, but primarily a blood vessel disease. It is damaging society as we know it.

How many repeated infections can we expect young people to endure and survive? Even if they get only 1 infection each year, that’s 10 infections in 10 school years. This is not compatible with health and a long life. Repeated infections can lead to long COVID and shortened lifespans.

How Do We Protect Ourselves, How Do We Protect Our Children, When Government Public Health Advice Has Failed?

By reducing transmission so that R0 remains less than one (meaning that each person infects less than one other), we can suppress and gradually eliminate the virus, targeting a safer return to pre-2020 normal.

Handwashing is helpful, but it is not the main way to stop the spread of this airborne virus.

Respirators can block 95% or more of virus particles through electrostatic action, and are therefore highly effective at reducing infection even if only one person in a conversation is wearing them. They are far more effective if all people are wearing them (40).

Transmission can be reduced with HEPA filtration and ventilation of indoor air.

The virus spreads more quickly in indoor settings, but also spreads outdoors.

For medical facilities, it is essential to clean the air with ventilation and filtration and require universal high-quality masking (with N-95/ FFP3 respirators or better) to protect medical staff and patients.

For workplaces, clean air will reduce transmission; and encouraging employees to test and stay home when infectious is essential. High-quality masking should be encouraged in the case of symptoms, a sick person at home, or any other suspicion that one could be carrying the virus. Remote work should be normalized and encouraged wherever possible.

For entertainment venues, events should be held outdoors when possible; and if indoors, clean air is key to protecting audiences. Audiences should also be encouraged to wear respirators to avoid getting infected and infecting others. Digital streaming options should always be offered.

For restaurants, an emphasis on outdoor dining will substantially reduce transmission. Patio service should be encouraged, and indoor dining areas should be well-ventilated with a high level of air-exchanges. Home or curbside delivery offers a safer alternative.

For schools, clean air will reduce transmission; encouraging students to test and stay home when infectious is essential to preserving their health. Masking or remote learning should be initiated whenever a case is detected or the incidence in the general population sharply increases. A permanent hybrid model / digital option can accommodate children with disabilities or those who simply do better learning from home.

Teachers and medical professionals may prefer to use transparent masks, or to wear HEPA-filtered headgear equipment that may be more universally tolerated/accepted.

To track our progress, we need sustained wastewater and population-level testing.

With just 60-70 percent of people taking mitigation measures such as masking, testing and isolating when infected, we can dramatically reduce forward transmission of the virus.

Even with very imperfect measures, as long as one infected person does not infect more than one person on average, the virus will eventually die out. The fewer people each person infects on average, the faster it will happen.

We still have a window of opportunity. Protecting ourselves and our families is in fact protecting the economy and the continued orderly functioning of our society.

#covid #mask up #pandemic #covid 19 #wear a mask #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #public health #still coviding #wear a respirator #long covid #AIDS

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xesiarah · 11 months ago

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𓏵 Yan!Loser x Reader (Drabble)

My favorite animal is Lucian when reader tries to leave him 🤫🧏

His Intro Fic >.<

—

"A-am I not enough..?" Lucian's voice was whiney, meek, yet with a hint of menace seething through his words. There's something... something uncanny.. seemingly just right beneath the facade of innocence, the beads of tears rolling down his cheeks swiftly, and the glisten of the tip of the knife pressed firmly against his neck under the illuminating light.

"Why, why, why, why.." he mutters under his breath, repeating manically as if trying to think of a reason plausible enough for him, for his delusional, overthinking, — overbearingly possessive brain cells.

"I-i-i.. just love you so much... you can't do this to me... I just can't fucking breathe—" he trails off, his tears blurring his vision as he swore he could feel his legs weaken, like a victorian child seeing that Snapchat dog filter for the first time. — As if the idea of you being able to just walk out the door and leave him to go fend for himself, continuing on with your life without him being able to breath down your neck every second of everyday, just weakens his overall ability to function.

His breathing growis erratic, it's pattern going inconsistent. "I'll die... I'll die without you." The desperation is evident in the flickers of his eyes, a threatening madness, as if daring you. Daring you to walk out that door and leave his sorry ass.

"Okay, dude. What the fuck." You raise both hands in a defensive manner, your sweaty palms facing him. like yk what people do in movies when they get confronted by the FBI. "I was just fucking asking if you wanted chipotle.."

Maybe that 'i can fix him' mentality didn't work, after all. You think you sort of made him worse. "I just didn't want to drag you along, cus' I'll only be out briefly." You explained, your eyebrows knitted together as you took a step closer, it's as if concern, anxiety, was etched onto your face alltogether.. Just how mentally unwell is this motherfucker?

"I wanted to come a-a-along, and you didn't let me... W-what if you were secretly meeting someone else!? What if you—" his complaints, or more like blabber fall upon deaf ears. He didn't acknowledge the fact you were taking baby steps closer, immersed in his will to voice his worries.

Slowly, you managed to take hold of the knife, separating the dangerous weapon from the very dangerous person, regaining a sense of control of the situation as you coo empty praises in an attempt to soothe his shivered timbers, cupping both sides of his cheek and even wiping a few tears away with your thumb. You don't want to fucking die yet, after all.

He doesn't let you tear your gaze away from him as you gently, fucking finally, place the knife down on a nearby coffee table, your attention solely on him. As it should. According to him, I guess. — as soon as you do, he immediately jumps on you, clinging onto you like a lifeline as the suddenly impact causes the both of you to fall to the floor in a loud thud.

"Lucian..?" You question, raising an eyebrow.

He answers with nothing, scarily just doesn't say anything. Anything at all. The silence deafening. The only sound being his ragged breathing, and your own, mingling together. "Don't go." He mumbles after moments of silence, his breath hot against your skin.

He buries himself further into the crook of your neck, inhaling in your scent deeply. "Stay." He spoke once again, his voice now raspy from allat crying.

He snuggles onto you, as if trying to merge into one, single being. Whilst you on the other hand, lay in defeat. He's heavy. Like a damned boulder. What makes it worse is that you're sweating like a bitch and your head is throbbing from the sudden hit to the ground. — fucking hell. Guess you owe him cuddles now.

And, the price of wanting chipotle... 😞

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere original character #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #drabble

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diazpoems · 3 months ago

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Really truly the great thing about Teen Wolf is that no ship really deeply irritates me. Usually there’s a pairing in a series (usually the one the series goes hardest on) that aggravates the shit out of me - Which was honestly me with Scallison at first, not because I hate Allison or Scott or even them being together, more so because every time the showrunners had an opportunity to develop her character they Gave Us Nothing, and on Scott’s end I just got mad at him for having complete tunnel vision and not a single functioning brain cell unattached to his dick (which admittedly wasn’t entirely unrealistic for a sophomore in high school, so that ones rlly more of a me problem). But. So far I haven’t found anything truly objectionable.

Scott and Allison? Not my favorite but valid. Isaac and Allison? Kind of cute, fuck it. Lydia and Allison? Peak. Stiles and Scott? Childhood best friends to lovers who’ve seen some shit. Delicious. Stiles and Lydia? Adore them. Stiles and Isaac? Has the potential to be either patently hilarious or devastatingly raw depending on which way you go with it. Isaac and Scott? Fucking duh. Haven’t seen Malia or Kira yet but I’m hoping it’ll be much the same.

Im not a big Sterek girly, but I won’t begrudge them whatever they’ve got going on either.

Even the grown ups, man. I hear Melissa and Chris get together later. Rad. They’re both hot, capable, and awesome. They should be all those things together. Alternatively ppl ship the Sheriff and Melissa. Also extremely rad.

I love this damn show

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olderthannetfic · 2 months ago

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One bizarre thing I've noticed in fandoms (and general fandom related spaces,) lately is that there's an unsettling amount of people who seem to genuinely believe that having certain fetishes makes you more insightful, intelligent, and mature, as a person and as gross and creepy as it is, it's also funny as hell in a weird, fucked up sort of way. To use a random personal example, just because I prefer men who don't have enormously hairy pubes doesn't mean that I'm not aware that humans have body hair (I myself am a human being and I can see the hair on my body with my own two eyes, which is part of the reason why I shave it,) or that I don't understand how basic sexual dimorphism works or that I'm a pedophile who's going to molest your children.

To use another example, because the irony in it is so thick you could cut it with a steak knife or perhaps even a machete, just because I like older men doesn't mean that I'm not aware that people's bodies change as they get older and that human beings have a limited lifespan and are, in fact, not immortal. It also doesn't mean that I hate my dad or that I want to be a gold digger who contributes nothing to society or that I don't realize that I, too, someday, will get old (which is something I can easily observe by, idk, looking in the fucking mirror and comparing my personal self now to pictures of myself when I was younger.)

(And yes, sadly, these are all real examples of shit people have said to me, because a frightening amount of people seem to view themselves as the only sentient beings on God's green and blue earth and they act like everyone else is some flesh automaton with no unique consciousness or awareness of the world around them and boss, I'm tired as hell.)

I'm sorry (not really) that my particular tastes and preferences don't match up with some other people's tastes and preferences but contrary to popular belief, I still have a functioning brain and yes, there are even brain cells and neurons in there that perform all sorts of various activities each and every single day. If you can't recognize that, well, that's your problem, not mine.

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forsetti · 4 months ago

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On Consequences: What About Fuck Around And Find Out Don't You Get?

As anyone with two functioning brain cells could have predicted, people who voted for Trump and those who sat out the last election because “both sides are equally bad,” are experiencing the “Find Out” portion of “Fuck Around, Find Out.”

From MAGA farmers in the Heartland whining about losing their livelihoods, to “Latinos For Trump” voters crying about their abuela being deported, to people who voted for Trump who are finding out they are losing their government jobs due to DOGE, the Find Out Portion of Trump’s second administration is just getting started.

Am I surprised? Fuck no! What would happen if he won again was blatantly obvious to anyone with a brain, moral compass, and basic understanding of…well…just about anything.

Do I care? Fuck no! It isn’t the fault of those of us who threw up warning flags, shot off flares, and screamed until we were hoarse that the things we said were going to happen if he got reelected, happened. That burden of responsibility is not on us, no matter how hard some try to make it so.

Should I care? According to those “Finding Out,” the media, and the moral scolds on the left, I’m supposed to care. Their arguments for caring come in three different forms: Compassion, Sympathy, and Non-Alienation.

I’m supposed to be compassionate towards those who are suffering, regardless of the reasons for their pain.

Really? The people who have spent the past twenty years bitching about participation trophies want one now because they are on the losing end of their play and want me to comfort them with orange slices, a big trophy that has “We Are Not Losers,” engraved on it, and a hug? Hell, even if I believed in a participation trophy culture, I wouldn’t extend it to those who voted for Trump or didn’t vote in 2024.

A soccer team of kids who get beat 20-0 at least tried their best. They put in the work at practices, played the best game they could, and lost. MAGA voters didn’t’ do jack. They didn’t put forth any effort to understand any issues. They walked onto the field of play, handed in their lineup, and didn’t do another damn thing. The people who sat out the election did even less.

What do I mean by, “they didn’t do another damn thing”? All the information about the Democratic Party’s agenda, Kamala Harris’ record, and policies were readily available for anyone to see. So too, were Trump’s. All the things Trump is doing were things he, or those close to him, said they were going to do. EVERY SINGLE FUCKING THING!

Why in the fuck would I be compassionate to anyone who willfully denied and/or ignored this?

Fuck them! My compassion goes to the people who are going to suffer from Trump’s policies who did the right things, made the right choices, and actually put forth an effort. That’s who deserves my compassion. Not some farmer in Iowa who put a fifty-foot billboard of “Trump 2024” on his land who is now scrambling to save the farm that has been in his family for generations. Actions, choices, and elections have consequences. Hence the “Find Out” part of FOFA.

Along the same lines, I don’t have sympathy for these people for what they are going through.

Do I wish these terrible things to happen to people who made bad choices? Not really. But, that is the only way they might (very heavy emphasis on “might,”) learn. Until the consequences of their actions are severe enough, and maybe not even then, people are not going to learn. If they keep getting bailed out, financially, emotionally, culturally… there is no incentive for them to learn.

How many times do Republican policies have to fuck over rural America before they learn a lesson? It’s been almost all of my sixty-four years and they not only haven’t learned a lesson, they’ve doubled, tripled, and quadrupled down on their loyalty to the GOP.

How many times do Democratic policies have to bail out these same people before they get any credit for it? Obama and Biden not only saved the US auto and energy sectors but helped make them better. Their reward for this? Having areas dominated by these industries vote Republican. This is just one of hundreds of examples like this I could give.

Am I supposed to have compassion and sympathy for these people? Fuck that!

I’m pretty sure the people pushing the “compassion and sympathy” arguments know they are pushing garbage which is why many of them have shifted to the more nuanced, though equally garbage, “let’s not alienate the Find Out crowd because that won’t get them on your side.”

This argument might sound reasonable except those touting it never can give examples of it working. Obama bent over backward to accommodate Republicans. The Affordable Care Act was more Republican-based than Democratic. What was his reward for this? Being called a Marxist socialist who was creating death panels that would end Pappy’s and Memaw’s lives, to provide on-demand abortion to drug-using moochers from San Francisco.

I have yet to see anyone provide a real example of a Democratic statement, position, or policy that actually changed a MAGA’s mind. The argument being made is basically:

1-Bad things are happening to Republicans because of their choices. 2-Dems should not point this out because it will alienate Republicans. 3-If Democrats don’t point this out, then Republicans will learn the error of their ways.

The faulty logic is in believing what Dems do or not do has any influence over Republicans. There is no causation here.

It is understandable, on some level, why people might believe this argument. Hundreds, if not thousands, of articles and even more media hot takes have been put forth pushing the causation between what Dems say/do and Republicans’ choices.

It’s not the Republicans’ fault they support a racist, misogynist, criminal. The Dems made them by (fill in the blank.)

The paradigm of this causation argument is whenever a Republican comes out and says something blatantly racist the justification they give for doing so and the excuse given for them by the media is, “If Dems hadn’t called them “racist,” they wouldn’t have said/done something racist.”

No ownership of their actions. No personal responsibility from The Party Of Personal Responsibility. They flip the causation completely around to justify their actions. It wasn’t what they said or did that led to someone calling them a “racist,” it was someone calling them a “racist,” that did it. It is Bizarro World Logic.

Today’s Republicans don’t want compromise. That concept has been beaten out of them through years of Newt Gingrich tactics, Rush Limbaugh talking points, and FOX News. As long as this is the mindset of conservatives, there is NOTHING Democrats can do or say that will not alienate them.

Everything the Democratic Party stands for would have to be abandoned, to partially satisfy MAGA. As the Democratic Party, whose rights are we willing to sacrifice, to win the vote of the farmer in Iowa who is upset Trump’s policies are going to cost him his farm?

I don’t fucking negotiate with terrorists. I especially don’t negotiate with white supremacist domestic terrorists. Once you do this, they will ALWAYS demand more. Roe v Wade WAS the compromise when it comes to abortion. How did that turn out? Were the right satisfied? Did they accept it and move the fuck on? Nope. Now that SCOTUS has said that abortion is up to the states, do you think the right is happy? Nope. Until they get 100% of what they want, they will never satiated.

If you understand the nature of modern-day American conservatism and its ties to Evangelical Christianity, then you know, without a doubt, they cannot be reasoned with, no amount of evidence, compassion, or sympathy, is going to get them to change their minds, at least not on any meaningful level.

This is why there are no fucks left in my basket to hand out to anyone, no matter how much they are suffering, for the choices they made on November 5th, 2024.

All my fucks are reserved for those who made the right choices but are going to suffer anyway.

The pragmatist, realist, and ethicist in me are fine with this. As my mom used to tell me, “You can’t change people who don’t want to change and until they hit bottom, they will never change.” Applying this to anyone, especially people who care about isn’t easy. Applying it to a good chunk of your fellow citizens is perhaps more difficult, but more important.

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