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unholyhelbig · 3 days

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Can't wait for part four oh my god

Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti

Title: The Beast You've Made of Me [Part 4/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Wordcount: 3,545

Summary: When reader wakes up in her own grave, she's suddenly aware of a past that spans lifetimes, but she's not the only one. Two Avengers are tasked with keeping readers past a secret, or at the very least, controlled.

Warnings: Blood, night terrors, chains, mentions of things under the skin, mentions of torture, terrible grammar.

[a/n: This one may be shorter, but damn if it's not filled with plot. I promise, I don't hate Thor. ]

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Wanda Maximoff stared at you while you slept. She hadn’t meant to do so; she was drawn to you. A blanket that was a soft baby blue was covering you and you’d tightened your grip around it until your knuckles were white. Soft breathes escaped you, and she selfishly thought about other quiet sounds she could draw with her presence.

They’d moved you from the initial containment unit when SHIELD was satisfied enough with your blood results, and your rate of regeneration. There were no more physical tests they could run on you, no more blood or vitals that needed to be taken. So, they’d moved you to a cell that was less like a hospital room and more like a condo.

No, Wanda wouldn’t quite call it that. It was mostly white, the walls honeycombed and equipped with sound proofing in need be. There was a bed, and a nightstand, even a television that was tacked the adjacent wall.

In the corner was a glass containment unit that reminded you that you were, in fact, a prisoner. They’d given you more clothes, simple sweatpants and shirts that had a large stretching logo on the front. You’d considered it a win that it didn’t have an inmate number just below the collar.

Wanda stood at the two-way glass. She didn’t have the heart to push through your reserves when they were lowered like this. And truthfully, her skin still tingled from the first time she had invaded your mind. There was so much there, yet, each time she tried to reach further it was like a rolodex of times and dates, and an immeasurable amount of death.

A calloused hand found its way to the small of her back. Wanda clocked the scent of birch and vanilla. It was familiar and calmed her nerves like a soothing balm. The witch bit down on her thumb nail and spared a worried glance to her wife.

“She looks so peaceful when she sleeps.”

“You wouldn’t believe how loud it is in there.”

Natasha hummed and wrapped her arms around Wanda, resting her chin on the other woman’s shoulder. They both watched you for a few minutes; the curve of your figure, and the rhythmic up and down of your chest. A small frown had etched itself onto your features, but it quickly vanished.

“Nat,” Wanda’s voice was nothing more than a whisper, but she’d turned her head, making it ring loud and clear. “I know we’ve been making jokes about this… toying with her. But, I don’t think I can let her go.”

Natasha squeezed Wanda tighter and made eye contact with her in the reflection of the window. That stare was so genuine that it made Natasha’s heart ache in the center of her chest. She didn’t want to admit it, but she found you quite charming too. Aloof, at times, but there was so much hidden under the surface.

“Yeah, baby. I know what you mean. You’ve always had a thing for the broken ones, and she’s convinced that she falls into that category.”

A sigh moved past Wanda’s lips. Your thoughts were so loud they almost penetrated her defenses. You were having a nightmare. According to Natasha, they all followed the same formula, and if it was anything like she had witnessed; the farmstead, the stretching bone-white rib cage that protruded from the center of a young girl. She wanted nothing of it.

“Can we keep her?” Wanda asked.

A chuckle vibrated through Natasha. Wanda felt the sensation against her spine and leaned into the feeling, laying her hands over the ones encircling her. “Well, I suppose that’s up to her.”

A frown formed against your features, a pained expression that pulled at them both in ways that they weren’t expecting. Through they glass, they could hear small whimpers that seemed to catch in your throat. You burrowed further into the mattress. If Wanda squinted, she could see tears wet your rosy cheeks.

Then the screaming started. It was wracked with pain, and a second one didn’t’ escape you before both women burst through the door. They each had experience with night terrors, though, from the sound of it, nothing as visceral as yours.

“Solnechnyy svet,” Wanda’s low hum was accompanied by her soft touch. You writhed, effectively shoving the blankets away. You were in a pair of shorts and a tank-top. A growl pushed past your lips, something inhuman and startling.

It was Natasha who saw the darkness under your skin. She clenched her eyes tighter, trying to clear her vision. There were black veins that squirmed just beneath the surface in the form of chains. But no, they couldn’t be. That would irrational. Binds forming under your flesh and wrapped around your bones. It simply wasn’t possible.

Unconsciously, you clawed at your throat, at ghostly links that snaked around your neck. It was choking you, making it hard to breathe. A hiccup pushed past your lips and tears continued to dampen your pillow.

“Wanda, what do we do?”

Natasha had placed a hand firmly on your chest, pressing you into the mattress. She didn’t want you to thrash hard enough to injure yourself but she struggled against your strength. Another cry escaped you, and blinked again, trying to push the image of sharpened teeth from her mind.

“We have to wake her up, I think.”

“What if that hurts her more?”

“I think she’s going to hurt herself if we don’t pull her out of this. It’s so loud. God, her mind is like tar.”

Natasha didn’t wait for an explanation. She straddled your squirming form. She gripped both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. A cry escaped you, even in your sleep you tried fruitlessly to buck her off.

“Can you go in and pull her out?”

“I can try. Everything is so dark. Can you hold her still?”

Natasha grits, pushing all of her weight on you. “I’m trying. Jesus Christ she’s strong.”

Wanda’s eyes flashed a dark, and alarming red. Natasha huffed, knowing that it would be impossible to reach either of you in this moment. Her arms were starting to fail her, strands of copper hair falling into her gaze. The phantom binds seemed to tightened, you sputtered and pulled, but didn’t falter in your fight.

The witches shoulders started to tremble, her jaw clenched and whispered words not reaching Natasha’s ears. You bucked again, pushing into her. She tightened her thighs around your center, trying to lean all of her weight on your arms.

Small pin-pricks of pain erupted the tendons in hands. With fierce eyes, Natasha gawked at the pitch black that spread across your fingers. Your nails were elongating, ending in claws that were sharp enough to pierce her skin and even draw blood.

Wanda drew in a sharp and cloying breath before she wretched herself away from you and stumbled back from the bed. Her eyes were crimson and frantic for a few moments before she could blink the color away, chest heaving up and down. You were finally quiet, falling limp under Natasha.

Natasha panted, looking back at her wife “Are you okay?”

Wanda used the back of her hand to wipe moisture away from under her eyes. Her hands were shaking, her stare frantic. “I could taste blood. All I could taste was blood.”

Natasha made a small noise and looked down at you. The chains had vanished, your skin smooth, if not an irritated red from your scratching. She couldn’t’ glimpse your teeth, but prayed they weren’t pointed. Your nails had retracted and left nothing but small cuts behind.

“Mm, what the fuck,” you grumbled, eyes fluttering open, betraying your groggy state. You were fully pulled from unconsciousness when you realized the pressure against you. “What the fuck?!”

“Yeah, I’d like to ask you the same thing.”

Natasha let her own body go slack, she flopped down next to you to catch her breath. Wanda had lowered herself tentatively to the corner of the mattress. She audibly gulped, trying to quell the dryness in her throat.

“Shit, did I hurt you?” You glanced down at Wanda, raising yourself up onto your elbow. “I hurt both of you.”

“Not really, kitten. Just startled us, is all.”

Her words hung in the air. She was a good liar, possibly the best, but you could still detect the trepidation in her voice. Your entire body was buzzing, thrumming with a type of fear that you hadn’t felt in years. Not since the ice broke, and your brothers gurgled screams echoed in the air.

Wanda looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Her skin was pale and her eyes were borderline wild. You’d only ever seen the woman in pristine composure, and this frightened you more than the metallic scent of blood that wafted off Natasha.

She let out a shaky breathe that had her wife shooting up despites her exhaustion. She curled a finger under the woman’s chin and guided her soft stare. “Baby, what did you see?”

Wanda grabbed Natasha’s hand with her own, lowering it down to her lap, but not releasing her hold. Her eyes found yours. “What did you see?”

You drew your legs to your chest and hugged them close. There was mostly dark, but a deepening sense of dread clung to you throughout sleep. “I… was in Jennifer’s apartment but something was off. It didn’t’ feel right and it didn’t take me long to notice it. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and splash my face with water, but when I opened the door, it was, shit, it was this dense forest.”

Wanda nodded as if she agreed with your recall. It was an endless landscape of stretching evergreens. Through the gaps in the trees you could see a mountain range that was dusted with a powdering of snow. You knew you weren’t alone, but you couldn’t quite see who was with you.

“There were chains, dozens of them that I was meant to break. The people around me willed that I didn’t, that I couldn’t. But they were easy to snap, nothing for me to push through.”

“They made other chains, didn’t they?” Wanda asked gently.

You nodded. “I think they were afraid of me. I scared them with my size, with my strength. What does that mean?”

Wanda shook her head and gave you a sympathetic stare. If she had felt a fraction of the fear, the contempt, that you had, then you owed her an apology. It hit you like a stone but could break bones like a boulder if one wasn’t careful.

The glass shattered under the strength of the hit. A fierce ache shot down your spine, the pop of windowpane not registering until the pebble-sized shards reined down around your bare feet. Your breathe had effectively been knocked out of you, and kept out by the mans iron-tight grip on your throat, his other hand keeping you steady by wrapping around the fabric of your shirt.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This man was huge and could easily toss you to the sun if he weren’t restraining himself. He smelled of citrus, of a kind of mint that tickled your throat. Your introduction to Thor, God of Thunder, was not at all what you had imagined.

There was a flicker of anger in his eyes before he launched himself at you. He’d shoved you into the glass pane and decided to choke the life out of you. Your hands clawed at his unwavering grip, lungs burning and legs kicking. Spots had started to form in your vision.

Natasha and Steve tried to pull him away, making little progress. You were losing consciousness, not able to fight back in your current state of shock. His arms were suddenly wrenched back. You fell to the floor, glass embedding itself in it’s skin.

You coughed and sputtered, not registering the phantom manes of red around his wrist, and arms. You curled into yourself, coughing as you greedily took in as much air as you could. Natasha was at your side in an instant. Steve’s aftershave coating your throat as he checked you over. Both disregarded the glass.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Natasha was on her feet, satisfied that you had turned away from death’s doorstep. She closed the distance between herself and the God of Thunder, shoving him with a strong hand. “You touch her again and I’ll put you through a wall. Understand?”

She was deterred by the fear in his eyes. She’d known this man for years, and had him backed into a corner with a protective fury in her bones. Thor was a gentle giant, never using his strength without a driving factor. There was apprehension in his stance, large hands dragging down his bearded face.

“Lady Romanoff, I assure you, you do not know what you are protecting.”

“I just watched you throw someone half your size through a glass window. Explain to me why I wouldn’t protect her.”

She glanced over at you, on your feet and with Steve’s arm around your middle, keeping you up. The hardness of his stare mirrored Natasha’s. Wanda’s eyes were neural, but magic whirred around her fingertips like worms, writhing for purchase.

“That is not a woman!” He laughed, boisterous, yet without humor, he pointed a finger at you. “That is the end of times, the catalyst for the fall of Valhalla and Asgard. My home! If you don’t destroy it, I will.”

“No one is destroying anything.” Wanda snarled, effectively placing herself between Thor and yourself. Her arms were crossed over her chest. “We called to you for answers, not this. You’re welcome to return to your galivanting around space.”

“You expect me to leave? Not until I have it in chains.”

This brought your own stare to his, hardening your stance. A low growl escaped your chest, one that had a dark rumble to it, silencing the entire room. It was inhuman, it pulled the air away and filled the area with tension.

“You see that? That’s just a fraction of power. You let it get in and manipulate you, then you’ll be responsible for the world crumbling. You hear me?”

“Hi, yes,” You raised a shaky hand, “Do I have a say in this?”

“I cannot talk to you!” He said, almost frantically, taking a step back, “I refuse to let you manipulate me.”

Steve cleared his throat, taking control of the room. He removed himself from you when he was certain that you weren’t going to topple over. The pain had turned into a dull hum, and then soon, nothing at all. Your own hair was standing up at the presence of Thor.

“We’re being rash here. You’re clearly bothered by y/n. Before we jump to conclusions, maybe we should talk about this.” He offered, earning a huff and an apprehensive stare. “Explain to us what has you so spooked.”

Yes, god please. You pleaded silently. There was the inherent fear in his stance, but that at least gave way to him knowing exactly what you were. The horror was more accepting than the confusion. He’d sited the end of worlds, and you certainly knew you didn’t’ have that in you, standing in a pair of blood-soaked sweatpants and awkwardly picking a shard of glass from your palm.

Thor’s shoulders had dropped. He’d deflated like a balloon and suddenly looked as pale as Wanda had earlier. He kept his distance from you, licking his dry lips and scratching the back of his head. “Captain, do you recall the struggle of going up against Loki? This deceit and his tricks, and his betrayal.”

He nodded, the room engulfed in quiet. It was their first encounter as a team and so much had happened since then. Natasha clenched and unclenched her jaw, recalling her turmoil with Clint, but keeping her thoughts to herself. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“We scraped by in that war. Can you imagine the damage his daughter will do if unleashed on this world?”

Thor didn’t get an answer. All eyes had turned to you, finally dislodging the piece of glass from your hand. You let it fall to the floor, your mouth opening as if you wanted to say something, but it died before spoken.

“No,” You laughed, shaking your head “No, absolutely not. I have very normal parents who didn’t’ try to take over the world. My dad paints houses and my mom teaches biology and there is no way in hell I’m anyone else’s child!”

He looked at you with a form of pity now. Just like the rest of the Inhuman’s and heroes of the world, you hadn’t kept up with Loki. Of course, you recognized the sourness behind his name. The malice and the hundreds of lives that he took. But you also recognized the familiar feeling in your gut.

“I don’t’ understand,” Wanda spoke up, “We ran all of the background checks. FRIDAY didn’t’ find a single red flag in Y/n’s history. She was born and grew up in Hoboken. The only police report is from a busted house party and she was just in a holding cell until she sobered up. She is, by all accounts, normal aside from digging herself out of her own grave.”

“You were not supposed to die, so you didn’t.”

“I got hit by a taxi.”

“Okay,” Natasha soothed, placing a calming hand on your back. Nothing was connecting, and it all swirled around your mind viciously. Thor was your uncle? Your angry, blood thirsty uncle.

“Loki had three children that were all a threat to Asgard. And for centuries, the population struggled with their existence, feared them. They were unstoppable creatures that craved nothing but blood and carnage.”

Okay, ouch. The only thing you craved right now was normalcy. It seemed so far out of reach. If you could turn back time and go back to your desk job and your quiet comfort, you would be content for eternity.

“Jormungandr was trapped within the waters that surrounded Asgard, meant to float in a limbo for all eternity. And Hel, she was sent to the underworld to rule. Better the dead than the living be effected by her cruelness.” Thor grimaced, nearly shuddered at the thought of her. “And then there is you. Fenrir.”

“y/n,” You suggested quietly.

He pointed at you with a shaking finger “untamable. Feral. They attempted to chain you down twice before they realized that no metal was strong enough to hold you. They needed to trap you in a different way to stop the coming of Ragnarök.”

“What did you do?” Wanda asked, voice unsteady with anger.

“I didn’t’ do anything. The people of Asgard knew that if they were truly to be safe from its reign, then they’d have to banish it somewhere that didn’t’ offer much power. So, they crafted chains. Ones that would keep it’s animal nature restrained on Asgard, but it’s conscious in a constant state of torture.”

“Oh, nice, cool.” You let out a shaky breath. “That’s really comforting, thank you.”

He sneered at you, fueled by years of legend that had seeped into his brain. You couldn’t remember seeing this type of hatred in anyone before, and certainly not the Avenger that was voted the ‘most huggable’ in at least ten teen magazines.

“You tore Tyr’s hand from his body, ripped his tendons and filled your mouth with blood, you greedy animal.”

“That’s enough.” Steve barked. “You’ve explained nothing. If she is some all-powerful world-ending child of a God, then how is she here?”

“Don’t you get it, Cap? This is it’s prison. Centuries of pain. Life after life watching it’s family die in the most horrific ways. It’s the same prison we’ve trapped Loki in for his sins and the same one it’s fated to live forever.”

The dreams you’d had for years flashed before you in a dizzying brigade. Thor looked much too satisfied for your liking but Natasha’s sudden grip on your arm stopped you. She gave you a knowing look, a warning telling you to stay in place, and against your better judgement, you listened.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” Wanda said.

“Fine,”

He laughed again, taking a few steps away from the three avengers and their charge. His boots crunched against the glass. He refused to turn his back to you, instead keeping a vicious glare on his features until he made it to the door. You fought off the chills that threatened to work their way through your body. If not for Natasha, you would have fallen back to the floor.

“Be warned, Lady Romanoff. When I return, I will not be alone. I cannot guarantee your safety in the event that you throw yourself between me and this beast again.”

“Go.” Wanda rumbled, “Now.”

Thor held up both hands, nodding his head at Steve before he finally willed himself to turn. The three of you watched helplessly as you walked with a purpose down the corridor. His footfalls echoed, and you swore that you could hear them even when he was out of view.

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bunny-yan · 2 days

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Can we get more of yandere soldier? I miss the guy

TW: mentions domestic abuse, slight stockholm syndrome, choking, minors DNI

—

Winter was perplexed.

When you were well enough to finally leave the bed you’d been confined to and walk around on your own, his eyes had a habit of following you across the room as you explored his home. It was innocent, or at least he assumed it was, but he couldn’t help but feel on edge. Picture frames or trinkets that hadn’t been touched for years, apart from the occasional dusting, were slightly off-center or rotated in ways he wasn’t used to.

His eyes would follow as you’d finger the material on the medals hanging from the wall or trace your hands along the books he’d gathered over the years, pulling one out, completely unaware of how he’d inwardly cringe when you put it back in a different place. When distraction took you elsewhere, he would follow your trail, looking at the things you adjusted, and he struggled between wanting to put them back where they “belonged” or allowing the small changes to remain as proof of your presence here.

It was unsettling but nice. Your curiosity allowed him to believe that this unexpected situation might have a chance to work for the better—for both of you.

The way you struggled to keep your head above water in your day to day wasn’t something you could claim you missed. Sure, it was strange to feel completely safe in the house of a man who kidnapped you, but he made no attempt to take advantage of the situation. He claimed he wanted to take care of you, and so far, it was what he’d been doing.

But you couldn’t help but wonder if his behavior, if his niceness, was genuine or an act meant to lower your guard.

“I’m all better now,” you said, deciding to break the conversation while he was busy cleaning one of his rifles.

It was something he did methodically.

The sight of such a large weapon unnerved you the first time you left his bedroom. Paranoia struck thoughts of it being used on you and kept you locked away for weeks until he reassured you that it was simply a part of his routine. One, you initially loathed hearing, he wasn’t intending on changing. He went so far as to sit you down, showing you how the weapon wouldn’t even fire unless he removed the modifications he’d installed for safety.

You watched him. Fingers moving like a well-oiled machine as he took it apart, Winter broke it down piece by piece until the rifle was unassembled and laid out neatly in front of him, looking similar to an unboxing of some new device and not at all like a gun.

But a gun it was, and after going to painstaking detail to clean and buff each piece he’d reassembled it in less than a minute.

Setting it aside, he looked up at you before nodding his head.

You waited, unsure if he had anything to add, but when the silence continued you took a deep breath before continuing.

“I no longer have a fever. I can walk around by myself now and I don’t need your help to get dressed anymore. I’d say I’m pretty self-sufficient at managing myself now.”

Again, he nodded. Standing, he grabbed his rifle before heading towards the door, and you panicked. You’d finally worked up the courage to have this conversation. He couldn’t leave before you got to say what you needed to.

“I was wondering if you would take me back now.”

Winter paused.

You weren’t sure if the sudden halt in his footsteps was a good thing. You knew he’d never hurt you, and you knew the rifle in his hands wouldn’t shoot, but still, you felt nervous. You couldn’t decipher if it was the gun or him that was doing it to you.

“Back where?” he asked.

Going to the closet instead, you trailed behind him, watching as he placed his rifle on the wall stand before closing the door and locking it with a key that he easily slid into his pants.

“Back,” you said, feeling dumb, unsure what to say. He had to have known what you meant. It wasn’t usual for people to go to sleep in their crappy one-bedroom apartment and wake up in a stranger’s secluded cabin in the middle of nowhere. At least you hoped it wasn’t, but it was just your luck that you beat the odds.

Winter turned to face you, arms folding across his chest.

You frowned because you knew what that meant. Mirroring his stance, you refused to back down.

“No.”

“Why? You said that you’d take care of me.” You gestured to yourself. “I’m taken care of! The drugs should be well out of my system by now. I’m fit to return to society any day now.”

He remained silent. You didn’t know if it was because you’d thrown it in his face that the only reason you’re remained incapacitated for so long was because of the heavy dosage that he’d given you or because he was refusing to humor you with a response. Either way, it frustrated you.

“I won’t tell anyone about you! I’ll forget all of this ever happened the second you take me back.”

“Back to what?”

“My home!” you exclaimed. It was ridiculous to fight so hard to get back to an apartment complex that you hated. You often took extra shifts just to be able to afford the ratty apartment you called your own, but it was yours. Something that signified your independence, your questionable success at adulting. Sure you spent so much on rent that you could barely afford to feed yourself, but you made do with leftovers from the restaurant. Another plus to working the job that you dreaded going to every day you got up. The days were long, and the labor was intense, but it could be worse. If you continued to remind yourself of how much worse your life could be, it made your current situation more bearable.

You looked up when he came near, body uncharacteristically relaxed as he reached a hand towards you. His thumb brushed underneath your eye, and you froze. Was he being affectionate? He had never done anything like this before. It shouldn’t have caught you as off guard as it did considering skinship was something you’d become accustomed to since he had to assist you with bathing for weeks, but that was necessary, and this was voluntary.

“The bags have finally disappeared.”

You felt your face flush before you smacked his hand away, something eating at your insides. Of course, he was still trying to argue you down. It annoyed you how easily he managed to prod at your weaknesses despite barely saying a thing.

It was true that you hadn’t gotten an actual chance to catch up on real sleep before coming here, but that didn’t matter. Everyone had to work. Everyone did something to keep going, and if that meant you had to work 12-hour shifts almost every day to survive, then that was what you’d do.

Because you had to.

You had to.

“Will you stop treating me like a child‽” you asked, glaring at him and only feeling more anger when his expression remained unchanged. Caring, eyes almost engulfed with a sense of pity. “I’m an adult. Adults have responsibilities. Sure, I work long hours. I don’t always have enough time to take care of myself, but it’s an unfortunate part of life.” You grit your teeth, feeling a familiar headache began to resurface. It’d been so long, but you couldn’t believe you’d only just now noticed that you no longer woke up with headaches.

Your body didn’t ache in weird places that you either ignored or took cheap pain medication to temporarily stop the aches in order to give you enough strength to power through another day. The thought that you were fighting to leave to return back to that made bile rush to your throat, but the thought of staying here. Of allowing him to take care of you. It was scarier than what you knew. Even if what you knew was a hell you wished to escape from every day.

“It’s my life,” you said through gritted teeth. “I’d appreciate it if you would let me get back to it.”

He shook his head. “Why?”

You were tired of these one-word questions that remained impossible to answer without drudging up memories you were better off not remembering.

“Because-!” you began, stopping yourself when you looked into those eyes of his. That same compassion, only this time you couldn’t deny the curiosity in his gaze. The actual desire to understand why you were trying so hard to ruin a good thing.

Because this is wrong! I’m not supposed to want to stay with my kidnapper. I’m not supposed to trust that you’d actually take care of me if I let you.

The answers died in your throat as you stared at him.

Because I’m not supposed to want this.

You shook your head. “It’s none of your business. Just bring me back.”

“No.” he said again.

“What reason do you have for kidnapping a complete stranger‽” you yelled. “Are you some sick pervert who can’t find companionship any other way?” You regretted the words the moment they left your lips. You knew it wasn’t true. You knew he’d had every opportunity to take advantage of you, but he didn’t. You knew, but you didn’t trust him. You couldn’t.

“Are you so desperate to go back to him?”

His question made you take a step back. Looking into his eyes, you were hesitant to actually believe that you saw jealousy there.

“You call yourself an adult, but you don’t take care of yourself which is your biggest responsibility.” His words were soft-spoken, but they cut into you sharper than any knife ever could. “You don’t budget properly to be able to afford a meal that’s going to provide you with actual sustenance. You allow yourself to be conned into paying too much for an apartment that isn’t in a good neighborhood. You work yourself to exhaustion without giving yourself time to pull yourself together and worst of all you allow yourself to remain in an abusive relationship with someone who will only find it easier to take advantage of you the longer you stay.”

“Shut up,” you said.

“Does he make you feel seen? Does he reward your negative behavior with pretty lies meant to keep you complacent and satisfied?”

“Shut up.”

“He makes you feel like you’re doing a good job and you let him stay because if you allowed yourself to open up to anyone even half decent, you’d be forced to acknowledge that you’re running away.”

You had never wanted him to stop talking as much as you did now.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand reared back before whipping it forward. The rage caught in your throat when he caught your wrist in a firm grip.

“You’re playing at being an adult. You don’t know how to take care of yourself. You hate your life, and you refuse to admit it.”

“Let go of me,” you said, pulling at your hand. You winched when your struggle became painful. He acknowledged your pain by loosening his grip, but he didn’t let go.

“Make me.”

You used your other hand to try and pry his fingers from around your wrist, yanking and pulling, pushing against him and demanding that he let you go. Still, he didn’t release you.

Instead, he pulled you forward, a gasp allowing all the air in your lungs to escape as your back slammed into his chest before his arm was wrapped around your neck, forcing you to remain stationary if you didn’t want to lose what little air his grip allowed. You pushed at his arm, but he didn’t budge, your demands raspy and unable to pass beyond the pressure he kept on your neck.

“What will you do when you’ve finally had enough? He’s already shown you that he isn’t afraid to put his hands on you. Will you continue to sit there and take it? Smile and allow him in as long as he isn’t putting bruises on your skin? What about when that isn’t enough anymore?”

You gasped for air, feeling tears prick at the corners of your vision as even the saliva in your mouth became too much to swallow.

Emitting a small sound, it was all it took for him to drop you.

Collapsing to your knees, your cough was violent. Putting a hand around your throat to soothe the tender skin, you glared up at Winter before faltering once again.

The expression on his face was horrified, lost as he looked at you. He was frozen, unsure what to do, what to say and you felt the same. You had never seen that side of him before. You knew he was dangerous, or he could be if he wanted to be. You just never expected it to rear its head like this.

“Winter?”

Saying his name was all it took to break him out of that trance. He didn’t spare you another glance before he was all but running back to the closet to grab his rifle before he was out the door before you could get another word out.

You rubbed at your throat, still angry at what he had said but angrier still at the thought that he might be right. After five minutes passed, you buried the guilt threatening to eat you alive and slipped out of the front door.

Even if he was right, you couldn’t stay here.

Not with him.

Not with his words that said too much or nothing at all.

Not with his hands that refused to leave marks on your body.

You couldn’t bear another moment wishing that you didn’t want to.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #gn reader #yan!winter #yandere soldier

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caelivir · 20 hours

Text

shrimply in love | miya atsumu

synopsis. atsumu wholeheartedly prayed that you forgot how you first met, and for a while he believed that you did. that is until he finds the literal token from that day.

pairing. atsumu miya x gn!reader | wc. 2.1k | genres. timeskip!atsumu, established relationship, tooth rotting fluff, atsumu is soooo down bad | warnings. (minor?) manga spoilers

notes. outing myself as a hq fan and atsumu lover LOOK AWAY. this was inspired by a tiktok i saw LMFAO 😭. i was up until dawn, on my phone, in the drafts writing this that’s how bad it was. there's something additional to this so stay tuned, and i hope you enjoy.

“tsumu!” you call out from the couch while he’s in the bathroom connected to your shared room. “can you get my wallet? it’s on the bed.”

“sure thing, baby!” he answers back.

“thanks love!” you reply, the petname making him grin in the mirror. it gets him every single time.

after drying off his hands with a towel, atsumu doubles back to the bedroom, your wallet immediately catching his eye. he picks it up, and as he does, something slips out from the crevices.

atsumu picks it up and inspects it. it’s a folded slip of paper. curious, he unfolds it to examine its contents. reading it puts him in shock, and now he’s mildly annoyed with you.

he rushes out of the room, stomping over to you like a little kid. you raise an eyebrow in amusement when he stops in front of the couch.

“baby, what the hell?!” he whines, holding the paper out in front of you for you to read. confused, you lean closer, letting your eyes scan it before laughing out loud. it’s a guest check from the day you first met.

“what?! it’s cute!” you defend with a smile.

“it’s horrifying. do you even know how embarrassing this was for me?” atsumu pouts.

“oh believe me i know.” you giggle.

three years ago.

after a hard won victory, the msby jackals were craving a celebratory meal. meian had suggested a new italian restaurant that had opened by the arena. there was a unanimous agreement among the team, except for sakusa. however, bokuto had managed to convince him to come along with enough pestering.

so there they were, a group of guys well over six foot (with the exception of hinata and inunaki), sharing what’s probably the largest table at the restaurant. it drew tons of attention, and there were even some fans who came up to them for pictures and autographs.

then you came by, ready to take orders, and atsumu knew in that moment he was an absolute goner for you. your beauty was unlike anything he’s ever seen before. you were prettier than those models on the ads he walked by, prettier than the flowers in his mother’s gardens, prettier than sunsets on a beach. and god, your smile. his head went all fuzzy at the sight of it. it melted his insides.

you chuckled at whatever bokuto animatedly said before moving onto atsumu. you looked at him expectantly, eyes shining with so much light that it jumbled the blonde’s brain. shit. what did he want to order?

atsumu’s eyes quickly racked through the menu, and his mouth fired off an order before his brain could process what he was reading. “uh, could i get the shrimps camping?”

a silence befell amongst the table before a collective cackle filled the restaurant. realizing what slipped out of his mouth, atsumu’s face turned red. his cheeks were embarrassingly hot.

mortified. he was absolutely fucking mortified. even that asshole omi-kun found it funny. it didn’t help that you were suppressing a smile at him too. he didn’t even bother with the damage control. there was no point. he’d only embarrass himself further.

with a giggle, you made a note of it on the guest check you were writing up because at least you knew what he was referring to. atsumu buried his face in his hands. see in his head, the setter had come up with a plan to ask for your number, but now he was never even going to walk down this street ever again. his chances? consider them blown.

“alright, alright,” you said after the laughter had died down. you fire off orders to confirm everything, and then you get to atsumu. “and… one shrimps camping.”

“you’re killing me.” atsumu groaned, feeling a new wave of embarrassment now that you were teasing him.

“it’s my job.” you shrugged before walking off with a wink. the blonde felt his heart skip a beat.

“don’t sweat it, atsumu-san!” shoyo clapped his back reassuringly. at least he could leave it to the ginger to always have his back.

it took a minute, but the team had finally moved on from atsumu’s slip up. unfortunately, it was all the setter could think about. god, what if you teased him once you came back with the plates?

luckily for him, it didn’t happen. you just tossed him a knowing grin when you presented him his food. he stared down at those shrimp dancing in the sauce, knowing he’s never ordering fuckass shrimp scampi ever again, and dug in. (it’s the most delicious thing to have graced his tastebuds.)

atsumu, contrary to previous thoughts, did end up coming back to the italian restaurant in the hopes that he could see you. he realized that he wasn’t going to allow one fuck up ruin the chances of having you. atsumu miya is many things. annoying, rude, loud, but a quitter? that’s not one of them.

it was a weekly occurrence, and atsumu would try something different from the menu each time.

“no shrimp scampi?” you would smirk.

“no…” atsumu would sigh, feeling the jab in his bones before handing you his menu. “no shrimp scampi.”

conversations became more casual. he learned more about you like how you were in your final year of university and that your favorite men’s volleyball team was ejp raijin. (he was definitely going to change that.) each week the blonde setter visited you during week made him fall for you even more. all of these little things accumulated until atsumu finally got the balls to ask you out.

“what would you like today, atsumu?” you greeted, that soft angelic grin on your face, and he just knew he had to do it. he couldn’t ever let you go.

��you. me. a date.” he said casually, his eyes dripping with confidence. (interally, he was freaking out).

you tried maintaining your composure but failed so miserably. you couldn’t stop the smile that reached your eyes as soon as you heard those eyes. “i thought you would never ask.” you beamed at him.

chewing on your lower lip, you motioned for him to give you hand, to which he most happily obliged. your touch was a new heaven. so warm and so soft. he wished to be wrapped in it forever.

you held his hand steady as the tip of your pen scribbled on his skin. when atsumu looked down, he realized it to be your number, and his eyes stared at it in awe.

“text me.” you told him before walking off. then you stopped in your tracks, turning yourself back around until you’re back at atsumu’s table. “wait, shit. what do you want to eat?”

oh. he had completely forgotten about that. atsumu picked up the menu and quickly scanned for a fun dish name. “um, just the pizza napoletana and garlic bread.”

“you got it.” you noted it down. followed by, “no shrimp scampi?”

“(y/n), please. i feel like i’m flying right now, and you’re killing my mood.” atsumu’s face fell, feigning fake irritation, but you knew better.

you laughed. “alright, alright. i’ll be back soon.”

“you better be.” the setter scoffed before his face betrayed his true feelings.

and before you knew it, one date became two, then three, then four, and the rest was history, shrimp scampi along with it.

at least, that’s what atsumu thought.

“i thought you completely forgot about it.” atsumu whines.

you laugh, standing up from your place on the couch. “how could i ever forget that? i stopped the jokes because you got all sulky. besides, that’s how my little infatuation with you began.”

once you’re directly in front of him, atsumu places his hands on your waist, burying his head in the crook of your neck. without even thinking, your hand finds its way to the back of his head, stroking it with affection. “of all things? not my good looks? or my nice arms? ” the blonde murmurs into your skin.

you hum in agreement. “well that came after.” your boyfriend groans, making you roll your eyes.

“i don’t think i ever told you this, but i was having a really rough shift the night the team came in. when you guys were put into my section, i nearly lost it.” you admit. “but then you asked for shrimps camping, and i lightened up, like all of my negative energy just drained out of my body. seeing you all flustered and blushing was so adorable in my eyes.”

your boyfriend pulls back, his face scrunched. “i didn’t realize you were in a foul mood that night.”

“had to fake it. you know how customer service is.” you shrug, a smirk taking over your face soon after. “but you were too busy admiring me to even notice it.”

atsumu grins smugly. he’s not even ashamed. “that i was.”

you roll your eyes. “you’re hopeless.”

the blonde setter hums, leaning in, and you meet him halfway, kissing him gently. atsumu’s arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you’re pressed against his body. you feel his lips twitch into a smile.

you’re the first to pull away, but your boyfriend is unsatisfied with that. he presses his lips to yours once again before you could even get another breath in. it’s a kiss full of affirmations that atsumu can’t voice. you feel it all through him. he’s so greedy when it comes to you, but he’d definitely agree with that statement without any complaint.

to atsumu, kissing you is a new kind of euphoria, one better than any service ace, better than any cool quick that he pulls off with his hitters. kissing you is like falling in love with you again, and it’s single-handedly the best feeling in the entire world.

he pulls away first with a proud smile. he steals a quick peck against your lips, then your nose, and then the rest of your face until you’re drowning in his affection.

you giggle, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “tsumu!”

atsumu sighs contentedly. his large hand cups your cheek. the rough skin of his thumb traces up and down your face. it’s so reassuring and so warm that you can’t help but lean into it.

“i love you, angel. y’know that right?” atsumu stares at you, adoration swimming in his eyes. everyday, he can’t believe that he gets to have you. he can’t believe he gets to come home and you’ll be there waiting for him, ready to hold him in your arms and kiss his knuckles when he tells you about his day.

you adjust your head ever so slightly to kiss his palm. “i know it. you never fail to make it known.”

you’ve come to realize that that’s who he is. your sweet boy, atsumu miya, is so full of love. behind the brashness and the insults, he has so much love in his heart that some days he doesn’t know what to do with it.

“i love you so much, atsumu miya. you are my life.” you whisper, bringing him in for another soul-igniting, cavity-inducing kiss. it’s intense, hotter, but that is just life with atsumu, a blaze of passion and fierceness.

you can feel him melt against you as if this is his first time doing this with you. you can feel him reciprocating your words. you know him so well that you can guess the words that follow. “all for me. my sweet angel. what did i do to deserve you?”

a memory springs to mind, causing you to cut the moment short as much as you’d like to continue. atsumu pouts at the loss of your lips against his. such a kid. still, he looks at you expectantly.

“i have to admit,” you’re kind of excited to see how he’ll react to it. “the entire restaurant knows you as the shrimps camping guy.”

atsumu stiffens against your body, and the horrified look on his face makes you burst out laughing. “you’re lying. (y/n), tell me you’re lying.”

“i’m sorry, my love. it’s true.” you reach out for his hand, but the blonde playfully shrugs it off.

“don’t touch me. how could you do this to me, huh? i thought we were for life!” atsumu turns away from you, shutting his eyes.

you roll your eyes. you should’ve expected this. in situations like these, there is one sentence that will make him forget everything immediately. “if i kiss you, will you forgive me?”

atsumu snaps his head back to you, and his eyes fly open, allowing you to catch the light that sparkles in them as he smiles widely. he’s so beautiful. “really?!” he exclaims but leaves no room for you to respond before he’s crashing your mouths together for the fourth time. you roll your eyes in disbelief but give into him immediately.

atsumu miya is so annoying, but he’s yours, and you wouldn’t give him up for anyone else in the world.

#anime #manga #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #hq #hq x reader #fluff #hq fluff #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #from kor ; ♆

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council-of-beetroot · 2 days

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As we see an increase in antisemitism I have reflected on my experiences how many years ago being the token Jew in my eighth grade English class and I have found some aspects about it which lead me to believe are the parts that Holocaust Education in the U.S. goes wrong

Being taught in English Classes

Often such as in my state, the Holocaust is taught as part of English curriculum. English teachers aren't history teachers and they may be lacking in the skills or knowledge required to teach in the necessary depth to discuss the Holocaust.

My mother used to teach English but she had a history degree as well. She would lecture in class about everything leading up to and during WWII. I remember reading handouts she had in her classroom while I was waiting after school about the history of antisemitism. I didn't have any of this in my English class unit, because to put it simply most English teachers aren't my mother who also has the prior knowledge of how to teach history.

Additionally, as it is part of English, there is often more focus on Holocaust literature rather than the topic itself

This is where I think it gets extremely flawed if a person's primary knowledge of a historical period is Anne Frank or the incredibly inaccurate boy in the striped pajamas. A single account or work of complete fiction shouldn't be your main lens to view any topic whether it's the Holocaust, Slavery, Civil Rights movement etc.

You're in short blurring fact and fiction when discussing these things in the context of literature.

Sense of Finality

I feel like in my classes at least there was this idea that was kind of implied that hatred of Jews began and ended with Hitler and the Holocaust. I think this leads to misconceptions about antisemitism.

I feel this is a problem as I remember mistakenly getting that takeaway in school regarding civil rights in America. It was taught that Slavery was a problem, emancipation proclamation, MLK said I have a dream, and the civil rights act was passed and bam no inequality or racism. Later on, I fortunately learned this was flawed for many reasons. But not everyone does.

Not teaching about how the Holocaust happened

If you aren't given the knowledge of how centuries of hatred lead up to the Holocaust, I feel the main takeaway becomes that it was almost a random occurrence.

Many learn the Holocaust is bad without learning the signs of thinking that can lead neighbors to kill neighbors.

So many people don't have the basic facts such as Hitler being elected rather than assuming power.

I think when you learn of an atrocity of such scale without learning the human beliefs that brought about it, you have learned nothing.

I had a girl in my college uni class who was shocked when I said that antisemitism didn't begin and end with Hitler. I can see where she would get this idea if I at ten figured that racism ended with MLK.

Using Simulation

Slavery and the Holocaust should probably not be taught using roleplay. It usually goes poorly and you can find dozens of examples of how this goes wrong.

Sanitizing History

Exactly what it sounds like. But it's a major problem in general with history education in the US. I think we downplay westward expansion, and slavery in the us. When we downplay those it's easy to see how some begin to downplay the Holocaust.

We had a kid faint on the trip to the Holocaust memorial at some of the images. I think it was because they were inadequately prepared to see the horrors in image, my teacher didn't show any pictures in class.

Final notes

I don't blame teachers. Teacher's jobs fucking suck from what I've seen and many don't have the skills or resources or experience. I guess for now I think it's good to recognize those holes in our education and fill them ourselves through self education and life long learning

With the current political atmosphere of education of the unpleasant or difficult to discuss parts of history, i can only see things getting worse if we don't change anything. But like I said in the absence of a solid education which discusses these topics, it's important to educate ourselves and confront our lack of knowledge.

#tw shoah #tw holocaust #jumblr #feel free to add on with your school experiences #especially if you're jewish

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skidtheperson · 2 days

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Idea

Why does Rambley hate Llyod so much?

He reacts badly to his stuffed animal,

doesn't consider him a friend,

hell, he completely skips over Llyod's part of the ride even though there was still more, as you can hear Llyod continue to talk as you ride off.

So why?? It could just be their relationship, but it seemed like they were friends, at least at one point, as they could interact with each other and Rambley wouldn't be angry, so why???

I get this is most likely just a reference to the picture also in Disney, but it's still intriguing since it shows them being friends. This makes me believe something happened between them to make Rambley resent him.

One theory I've seen going around is that Rambley got jealous of Llyod's fame and how loved he was by the company itself, getting merchandise made of him that the others didn't get. (Even though he had his own limited edition merchandise but ok-)

This could be why he despised Llyod, since HE'S supposed to be the main guy, yet they made special merchandise of Llyod and not him. This made him jealous and resentful towards the lion.

Another theory could be they had a falling out, maybe the AI got upset at Llyod, and something happened.

I personally think these are both correct. Rambley got upset at Llyod, and based on what this broken down Mollie animatronic says : (thanks to SuperHorrorBros for the caption)

Rambley, the AI, most likely hurt Llyod due to his resentment, jealously, and anger towards him. And since the employees could have been mistreated, and AIs learn from humans, he thought hurting Llyod was a good way to take off his anger. Though he still holds that resentment, never knowing that what he did was wrong or bad.

These are all ideas, and until more comes out, then this is all we have to speculate from. There's probably much more under the surface that will be revealed in later chapters.

EDIT :

Forgot to mention this, but for Llyod's theater, he can't look backstage and doesn't have access to it.

But for Mollie's Playhouse place, he can be in the restricted areas just fine.

So this could also contribute to the fact the AI was dangerous or harmful towards Llyod, thus making the staff cut off his access to backstage.

#rambley the raccoon #indigo park #llyod the lion #indigo park lloyd #indigo park rambley #indigo park chapter 1 #Theory

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n30nwrites · 2 days

Text

Rewind (Bridgerton)

Pronouns: He/Him

Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma, Penelope Featherington x Colin Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton x Reader, Anthony Bridgerton x Reader, Kate Sharma x Reader, Penelope Featherington x Reader, Colin Bridgerton x Reader

Soulmate AU, Polygamy, Reader is autistic

Warnings; Mentions of homophobia? Mentions of absent parents, Christianity but the Reader doesn't believe in God, Talks of Unwanted touching, Talks about canonical child death and sickness

This is just a small excerpt because no one else will fulfill what I need because I am very much in love with the people surrounding Bridgerton. IDK if I'll continue it.

You weren't the eldest son, nor were you the youngest. A Classic middle child, having your older brothers torture you and your younger ones followed in their footsteps soon enough. But all of your siblings wanted one thing.

Your parent's attention.

Your father, The King George, was a mad men, at least he was considered one. Your mother was too busy ruling England and keeping everything picture perfect to really care about you guys.

Well you didn't really count yourself as one of your siblings.

Simply because you weren't meant to be here.

When you were first taken to this universe, you had been a babe, just freshly born. It was strange, to have full consciousness when being a young'en. The minute you could, you were walking and talking, far earlier than any other babe, but you had too.

By the time you were five, you had been considered a spectacle. The prodigal son, they claimed. You had your wits, you were respectable, truly the perfect gentleman.

You played your cards right, up until you couldn't.

Growing older meant more siblings, and you took care of them the best you could. But you hated these new rules. You couldn't be alone with a woman who wasn't a relative, your brothers were rude and loved it, and your sisters were innocent. Naive really, which you felt was a strange thing. To know about Sex but they couldn't. You tried to teach your sisters as well, education was the future.

But it was all useless.

Eventually you became a recluse. You stuck to yourself, in your room with instruments. Your English guitar, harp-lute, piano, and even the improper ones like a violin, cello and flute. You had to make the best of a situation, and that was what you did.

Even well into your adulthood, your brothers were still your biggest bullies. They thought you were a prude for never having Sex, which frankly if women couldn't without being criticized and shamed, then you shouldn't either. They said you were secretly a woman, or queer.

Well you could attest you weren't a woman, and well you kind of were queer. Bisexual, but they wouldn't know that word.

But you were brought into this universe for some odd reason. You weren't sure why, you didn't really get into Bridgerton like everyone else. Not that you were different from others, you just couldn't commit to watching a tv series, but you had seen the edits.

It just made no sense for you to be the one. It wasn't until the marks appeared that you understood.

Soulmates. That was a new adaption. Apparently they were rare, rare enough that out of all your siblings, you were the only one to have one. Your mother said it was a gift from God, though you thank she only said that because the bishop was there when you got them.

Them as in multiple, that put the bishop out of his head. He said it was blasphemous, you were too entranced with them to care. A matching soulmark would tie you to these people. 5 people.

That was a lot of people to keep happy. Especially when this century wasn't very happy with queer couples and polyamory. After that, your mother had insisted you hide them, and you weren't willing to risk a Romanov situation because people were too religious.

Your mother didn't like that you weren't religious, but she didn't bring it up again after one intense arguement that caused you to leave for a few weeks.

But you agreed with her, you wouldn't tell others. You were here to find a way out, you already had some ideas, one being a specific spot in the woods where you found something from the future.

A portable Radio/Cassette player. Wasn't that far in the future where you were, but it would work. You had headphones with it, and you finally felt some sort of sanity. Music in this era wasn't nearly as relaxing as yours was.

Keeping to yourself was easy after that. Every servant was ordered to knock on your door loudly by you, and to stop any sibling that would come your way just in case they caught you. Your servants were almost your friends, you knew they were reqired to be there, to be kind to you, but it was the closest you had to an actual relationship.

You stayed away from your mother on days like this. She's irritated, you don't know why, you don't care to ask. Your siblings are stomping around the palace but you don't move from your room, you instead walk around your room, shirtless, listening to your music. Your favorite servant, Zelena, is behind you, just watching you. She's always been touchy with you, your hair, your chest, you assumed it was just the way she communicated. And while you were uncomfortable with it, your mother had told you that you couldn't afford to be rude to people.

Zelena stayed next to you while you played the English Guitar. You knew enough about it in your old life, having made adjustments to the strings to be able to play older songs. The ones you could remember (Which you wrote down because eventually, you wouldn't.)

You ignore the knock at the door, simply nodding your head to Helena, who opens the door gently.

A gentleman is at the door, he's staring at you the minute he walks in. Like he's almost amazed at you, you didn't understand.

You never did.

He seems to look at you yet avoids eye contact. You set the instrument down to the side, gently. "Can I help you sir?"

He says your name, and you nod your head. "Can we be alone?" He asks. Your mother said it was improper to be with women alone, not men. So you nod your head and your maids walk out of the room. You figured this man was a duke or something, he had to be important considering he was in the castle. Perhaps a suitor for one of your sisters.

"My name is Benedict Bridgerton."

"Bridgerton? I've heard stories about your family before from my mother. She enjoys the drama that surrounds your family." You tell him, "Last I heard the Viscount found a wife."

"My brother, Anthony." He confirms.

"What brings you to my room?" You question. "Surely it's not to tell me about your family?"

"I just had to meet you."

"You really didn't." You frown slightly, to be fair, you knew a bit about Benedict. You weren't the biggest fan of his story, kidnapping a bride from her wedding day and tying her to a pole. It was strange, but you couldn't change the writers opinion. At least you think that was his story, TikTok could only tell you so much and it's not like you read the books.

You could only hope that it was different in the tv series, considering that's where you were right now. The actor himself you knew very little about as well, but you didn't really care for actors. You stood from the couch in your room, "Why is the artist here?"

"You know of my work?"

"I know a lot of things Sir." You take a few steps away from the couch. "Can you get to the point?"

He seems unsure now, fiddling with his fingers. "You're my soulmate" He tells you, and you look down at one of your marks.

"Which mark are you?" You question, and he looks hopeful. He pulls up his sleeve, the little feather on your wrist, in matching spots. You looked at your own and slightly traced it.

"Benedict!" The voice is angry and your door opens. You glare at the person who opened it. He didn't knock. It's Anthoyn Bridgerton, looking angry. "Benedict what are-"

"Next time Viscount I would ask that you knock instead of rudely interrupting." You cut him off, glaring at him. He seems to have brought a group of people behind him. Benedict stands up and walks right next to you. You put your hands behind your back, picking at your wrist. "It seems you've brought company." You tell Benedict.

"I was about to explain." He tells you, but you look at Anthony, more specifically behind him. You can see your mother through the crowd.

"If we must speak, we will not do it in my room." You grab Benedict's wrist, still refusing skin-to-skin, and pull him with you. Your glare causes the eldest Bridgerton to move to the side, he walks next to his wife.

Outside your room is a lot of people, it's almost overwhelming. There's the Featheringtons, really you only recognized Penelope but you knew by the yellow dress that they had to be her relatives. You could guess they were her sisters and the eldest-looking was her mother. You then saw your own mother, with what seemed like all of your siblings behind her. You rolled your eyes, your eldest brother seemed to glare at you. He hated you though, and you didn't particulary care. You just hated the drama that came with them. Then the Bridgertons. All of them, it seems. The eldest Bridgerton son is there with his wife, Kate. As is their mother, then Benedict who was next to you, Colin who seemed to glance between you and Penelope, Daphne with her husband, Simon. Eloise, Francesca (you truly hoped she got a better story in this show than the books), Gregory and Hyacinth.

"Brimsley, a pleasure to see you again." You avoid everyone to speak to your mother's right-hand man.

"Perhaps if you came out of your room more sir."

"Ah but if I did I might just die." You smile slightly, "Especially if I see William's face." Your brother takes a step towards you but quickly faltors at your mother's expression. "What have I done to warrant a family meeting without me."

"Being born really." George remarked and you smiled at him, cruelly.

"Brother you make me wish I wasn't and that instead I was with Charlotte, Amelia, Alfred and Octavius." What you said was cruel. Amelia died of tuberculosis, Alfred and Octavius died of smallpox, and the young Princess Charlotte who you weren't really sure how you died, you were barely there during the funeral. George (The fourth?) seemed to quiet down, looking sad. You were being rude, you didn't care. They back you into a corner and you attack, like always. "Edward! If you want to strike me you might as well try, but we both know you lack in that department, and many others."

"Quiet." Your mother tells you, and you wish you could care but you didn't. "This doesn't pertain you." She says your name gently, as if convincing you to calm down.

"Obviously it does if it has my soulmate running towards me." You jest towards Benedict. "What? Now that my attraction to men is out we must kill them all? It's not like it's been a secret."

"It is not godly." One of your brothers say.

"God is not Godly." You dennounce him, "You follow a book that has been rewritten multiple times, through many different languages. I do not believe in your God, you know that."

"Hush." Your mother calls your name and you just stare at her. "This was for the better of the Kingdom."

"Why does the Kingdom matter more than I?" You question, "Frankly, none of this does. But why are the Bridgertons and the Featherington's here?"

"You know who we are?" One of the other Featherington sisters say, she seems hot, considering the red to her face.

"I know of Penelope." You looked to her and nodded. "Who wouldn't? She's absolutely beautiful." You notice the looks that you recieve after you say your words. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I just think its best-"

"She wants to discourage us from going after you." Benedict says as he grabs your wrist causing you to look at him.

"Us?"

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enatopiaa · 2 days

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[This is not a request, i judt had this idea and wanted to share with someone :DD]

Penacony 2.2 story spoiler!

OKAY, thinking about my aventurine yuu idea, I just couldn't stop thinking about my other faves as students in NRC, and a bit of expanding Aventurine's character. Pretty much, certain characters and what dorm I think they would be in, and some get an Unique Magic :DD

Aventurine - Like I said, I highly believe he matches Octavinelle. Shady dorm for a shady guy? Great combo. He would 100% befriend the Octotrio, and probably entrust one of them with his past. He also doesn't wear his uniform right, pretty much just the buttonedup shirt and a bow tie, no jacket. His Unique Magic: "All or Nothing" (Really creative if you ask me), has a 50/50 percentage chance of working. What does it do? Pretty much, by chance, can either completely ignore a spell/curse, or make it even worse/more powerful. Would you like to try your luck ;)

Dr Ratio - Veritas is a fun one but there is something that couldn't escape me. He is 100% Scarabia, why? Scarabia is home to some of the most intellectual students AND is academic rival to Octavinelle, if you catch my drift >:)). No Unique Magic, Aven would annoy the hell out of him bc of this.

Sunday - (My baby man :(( pls be playable) Heartslabyul. Is there a more perfect dorm for a man like Sunday? He would know every single one of the 810 rules from head to toe and follow them diligently, even punish those who don't. Riddle enjoys his company due to it. Unique Magic? "Satisfaction", allows him to manipulate and distort people's memories and emotions, making them perfects mannequins. (Was probably banned from using this Magic due to how dangerous it can be...) [Probably collapsed nentally after Riddle's Overblot, almost overblotting himself]

Argenti - I'd like to say Pomefiore bc beauty and all that, but then I had a funny thought... Savanaclaw. Imagine, seeing this pretty student, almost a real life prince, picture perfect, wearing the Savanaclaw's uniform, priceless. As a Knight, Argenti has incredible physical abilities and he is not afraid to use and get dirty, so Savanaclaw matches him kinda well. Him and Rook would be absolute menaces with each other, Vil would 100% try to make a deal with Leona to change his dorm. No Unique Magic :((

Last but not least, my baby son, Misha - His dorm? 100% Diasomnia. Despite his youthful appearance (Unlike Lilia, he is actually "young"), he has an impressive magic control and abilities, surprising even his classmates. A 1st Year. Unique Magic? Yes, and I'm in a bit of doubt between two. One based on his technique where he is able to stop time in a small "dimension" he creates, or, being able to bring whatever people dream about into reality (although, as an illusion).

THIS WAS LONG I'M SO SORRY 😭

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OMG i loved misha’s the most (totally not favoritism) BUT YOURE SO RIGHTT OMYG

also Dr.Ratio!Yuu is so funny to me like just imagine him wearing that mask that he wears in hsr around the campus as he gets judgemental stares CACKLINGHH

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst au #twst x reader #twst yuu #twst fandom #dr ratio

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breakingupthelove · 2 days

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Perfect (K.SM)

Kim Seungmin was the most perfect boy at school. Or at least in your eyes. You had liked him for as far back as you could picture him in your memories, since you accidentally tripped over him at age 5, prompting your self proclaimed protector/ best friend Ryujin to rush over and start chiding the poor, confused boy, while you sat there on the ground, knee bleeding, staring up at the boy with stars in your eyes.

As you got older, your feelings for the boy just grew stronger, till one fateful day, Ryujin was off sick, and a girl from your art class (Danielle, you recalled her name was) noticed you all alone, and invited you to sit with her at lunch. As you walked with her to the lunch table later on in the day, she clears her throat and says cheerfully “Just to let you know, it’s not just me at the table, there’s a few others”.

Of course, you reassured that it was fine, and that you’re sure they’re all lovely people, but your last sentence trailed off as you saw just who was sitting at the edge of the table, laughing boisterously. Kim Seungmin. Your heart stopped as you saw just exactly why he was laughing, he was laughing along a girl who was the complete opposite of you. She was tall, with a doll smile, and doll eyes, and a doll laugh, everything about her was complete and utter perfection. Seungmin’s eyes never left her, seemingly drinking in her delight at whatever interaction they shared before you arrived. “Of course…” you thought “of course he’d go for someone on his level…”.

Through choked back tears, you stutter out a lame excuse about needing the bathroom and run off, dropping your backpack in the process. You cry for a little bit in the bathroom, trying to do it as quietly as possible, although what you really wanted to do was scream, scream at how unfair it all was, scream at how it was always you that was lovesick, scream at how you could never compete with perfection, and still scream some more.

You exit the bathroom, wondering if you should go back and get your backpack and face the embarrassment, or if you should wait till the bell rings and everyone clears up, and risk being late to class. With a sigh, you sit down on a nearby bench, head in your hands, trying to soothe your inner turmoil, when you hear a familiar voice.

“Hey, you okay?”

You look up through your bangs, and see Seungmin there, still as perfect as ever.

“I-I’m fine…” you mutter dejectedly, still not meeting his gaze

His lips purse, clearly not believing you “I brought your backpack” h e says dropping it at your feet, the moving to sit beside you. As you begin to shuffle away, he says “How come you’re upset? You’re usually such an upbeat person”

“You really wanna know why?” You take a deep breath and stand up before continuing “It’s cause of you, you and stupid perfection, you and the way I fell for you, and how you never noticed, and how I keep chasing after you, even though you clearly have some that you love! Well guess what, Seungmin, I love you, that’s what’s wrong!” You explode, not even bothering to turn around and look at him.

“Y-you love me?” He asks, before his brow furrows “and someone that I love? What do you mean?”

“That girl from earlier” you practically spit the words out

“You mean Wonyoung?” He asks, and he starts laughing “she’s my cousin, visiting from Busan!” He stands up and places a hand on your shoulder

“And I, um, love you too…” he says, tone dropped, before walking away with a smirk on his face

fin.

A.N/ this is literally just a blog filler

#seungmin #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #seungmin x reader #x yn #kpop #kpop bg #kpop fanfic #imagine #fluff #oneshot

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akookminsupporter · 2 days

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https://x.com/2308_58_13/status/1788781468615135401

JK's dad shared this pic ? So I don't think it's as scandalous as Jikookers made it to be. He shared it with his co worker as a cute pic between friends lol

I don't usually post this type of Asks, but well, here we go.

The original explanation, or at least what I initially understood, was that the photo hadn't been shared publicly. Apparently, It was either the profile picture on Jimin's dad's Kakao account or it was on his Kakao account, and someone’s mum saw it and took a screenshot or downloaded it. At no point was Jungkook's dad mentioned, or at least I never saw him being mentioned in connection to that photo until that tweet you sent, anon.

The "scandalous" part of the photo is how it was obtained. The "scandalous" aspect is that, as far as we know, that photo was not meant to be shared on social media for fans, and that’s why for a long time, many Jikookers tried to protect it as much as possible. Until the day Jimin and Jungkook’s friend posted that photo where they were wearing the same outfits, many believed the photo was fake or that they were cosplayers. Many were okay with those theories—some to prevent the photo from spreading further and others to keep living in denial.

#anon #ask #JKJJMP #preg 203

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jasper-the-menace · 2 days

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Jasper's Barely-Hinged Discord Scorpion Rant

Alright, context, I started this rant because I was mad about how the tlincallis (of Dungeons and Dragons second and fifth edition) were designed and handled. I put my foot down at the point where they were reported to have eggs. No, I refuse to accept this.

PLEASE NOTE! While I will not be showing any actual images of real-life scorpions, there will be drawings of them and drawings of fantasy and sci-fi characters inspired by scorpions. Some of them are even weirder-looking than actual scorpions. Fellow arachnophobes, continue at your own risk.

We are also going to be talking about scorpion sex in the context of how they mate and launch babies out. This is my second Tumblr post on the subject and I'm afraid that this might become a repeating pattern. Everyone on Tumblr thinks I'm the scorpion person now.

With that said, have this barely-edited compilation of my feral Discord messages on the subject.

You can tell someone who doesn’t know a lot about scorpions wrote the lore for the tlincallis because there’s a heavy emphasis on egg-laying for their reproduction. Meanwhile, scorpions are one of the only arachnids that give live birth.

I’m not expecting WOTC writers to watch videos of scorpions molting or launching baby missiles over and over again, but I am expecting them to at least skim the Wikipedia article, ya know? I understand that I’m Scorpion Research Georg, but still.

Scorpions fuck weird. Both “sexes” have the same thing - an orfice known as the genital operculum (plural: genital opercula). In order to reproduce, the male will drop a sperm packet on the ground and “dance” with the female to lead her over it. If she’s game, she’ll squat and just kind of vacuum it up into her genital operculum. This is followed by what is called a “mating plug” to keep the sperm inside. The two scorpions will then split away from each other, because scorpions don’t believe in cuddles and aftercare.

Then we get to the actual birth. Or as I like to call it, the Fedex packages.

A scorpion will give birth to between 3 and 100 young, depending on the species - though notably, the size of the scorpion does not impact the number of babies they can have.

The babies are folded up very nicely inside of the mother, and when she gives birth to them, they launch out like little missiles into her waiting pedipalps and front legs, unfold, and then climb onto or are placed onto her back while their next sibling is launched. A mother scorpion is actually a super good parent, and the entire brood will attach to her with little suckers on their tarsi, because they can’t eat or sting yet.

Depending on the species, it will take between 5 and 25 days for them to undergo their first molt - in unison as a brood, taking between 6 and 8 hours - and reach the juvenile stage. Juveniles resemble small versions of the adults and can eat and sting, though they’re still soft and unpigmented. They’ll leave the mother’s back to explore in safety, but then scurry back to her if there’s danger around. Once their carapace hardens and gains color, they can start hunting on their own and will often leave their mother.

A scorpion will undergo an average of 6 molts to reach full adulthood, which, depending on the species, can take between 6 months and nearly 7 years. The average lifespan depends on the species, with some living up to 25 years.

Re: the biological terms I used, here’s a picture and explanation from the Wikipedia article:

1 = Cephalothorax or Prosoma; 2 = Preabdomen or Mesosoma; 3 = Tail or Metasoma; 4 = Claws or Pedipalps; 5 = Legs; 6 = Mouth parts or Chelicerae; 7 = Pincers or Chelae; 8 = Moveable claw or Tarsus; 9 = Fixed claw or Manus; 10 = Stinger or Aculeus; 11 = Telson (anus in previous joint); 12 = Opening of book lungs

Post-coitus cannibalism has never been reliably reported in scorpions.

Scorpions are also kinky fuckers but no one’s ready for that conversation.

So, I will give this much to WOTC writers regarding the tlincallis - most species of scorpions do actively hunt their prey. (Though there are several species that are just sit-and-wait predators.) They are also opportunistic hunters, eating primarily invertebrates but occasionally also going for things like lizards, snakes, and small mammals, though scorpions with larger claws will also go after earthworms and mollusks.

What I will not give them credit for is the method of hunting. A scorpion’s primary hunting tool is its claws. Only large and aggressive prey is given a sting - the method of death is still typically via claw, even in that case.

They also don’t chew. They rip off pieces of their prey and put those pieces in a pre-oral cavity, which uses digestive juices from the gut to start the digestion process. Once it’s liquid enough, it gets sucked right into the gut. Any indigestible matter is ejected at this stage.

They do have an anus separate from the genital operculum, and it runs up into the tail. Scorpions will eat a large amount of food in one meal, and when this is combined with their low metabolic rate and relatively inactive lifestyle, it means that they can survive for 6 to 12 months without starvation.

So no, Wizards Of The Coast, a band of scorpion people would NOT be migratory by compulsion, even if they were aggressive.

And yeah, scorpions are mainly found in deserts, but that’s so limiting. They’ve adapted to nearly every sort of biome and appear all across the world, except in Antartica. So you can literally put them anywhere.

The scorpion is found in Greek mythology (Artemis or Gaia sending it to kill Orion) along with in a page of the Anglo-Saxon Herbal.

Despite the scorpion’s usage in myths, stories, and weapons of war, very few of them are actually capable of killing a human (barring allergy). 25 species out of more than 2,500 have venom deadly to humans. Most of, if not all of these, belong to the family Buthidae, which is the largest family.

Now it’s time for “Jasper analyzes scorpions from different media”! I’ve already dragged the tlincalli for filth, so we’ll pivot to look at another WOTC media: Magic The Gathering.

Scorpions don’t get a lot of rep. At best, they appear as one-off cards. However. Thanks to vising two primarily-desert planes (Amonkhet and the Vorthos-panned Thunder Junction), we have some Guys.

We’ll start with the Scorpion God of Amonkhet. This guy did not used to look like this, but once Nicol Bolas got all up in everybody’s business, he twisted the Scorpion God, Locust God, and Scarab God into giant monstrosities and erased knowledge of their names, even from themselves, and then used them to “harvest” the mortals he had been cultivating to create an undead army. The Scorpion God killed the gods Rhonas, Oketra, and Kefnet, before finally being killed by Hazoret and a group of rebelling mortals.

He is notably the only one of the “twisted” gods to have been killed – the Locust and Scarab Gods both survived, as did Hazoret, and all three defended Amonkhet later from New Phyrexia getting all up in everyone’s business.

(Re: that third artwork, why is he kinda...)

Meanwhile, on Thunder Junction...

Oh, Thunder Junction. If not for the fact that no one in the design and writing department could agree on and work together to determine the right approach to Western tropes, you could have been interesting.

Having said that, the scorpion dragons? Not native to there. Instead, they’re from Gastal, a plane that was mentioned one (1) time back in the day. I’m willing to overlook some questions about these blokes for the sake of blaming the dragon half on everything I don’t think are scorpion-enough when it comes to these guys.

Now, for my third example... I’m going to preface this with the fact that LEGO’s Legends of Chima theme was a problematic mess in hindsight. I still love it with my entire soul, but it was a fucking nightmare.

But within that is the Scorpion Tribe, what is possibly my favorite current example of what you can do with scorpions in a (science-)fantasy setting.

The Scorpions were accidentally evolved with the magic MacGuffin of the series (Chi) thanks to some foolishness going on, and they were the antagonists of season two (or rather, wave two, as they were technically the latter half of season one and the beginning of season two). They’re led by a king, Scorm, and a general, Scolder. And yes, they all stick to the Sc- naming theme, with one exception from the online game.

So, how do you create an anthro Scorpion Lego figure? Like this, of course!

Now, something interesting to note is that because the Chi was not safely introduced to these guys, some of them didn’t “evolve” all the way and still have a scorpion lower body, like a weird centaur. Meet Scutter, posterchild for this, even though his brother Scrug speed-“evolved” to humanoid form.

Something interesting to note is just how flexible and catlike the tails of these Scorpions are. They can flick around and even hold things when curled up.

Another fun thing about Chima is that they don’t put my boys in the desert. Instead, they live in caves in a very hostile jungle. I’m so proud of them.

Analyzing the venom of these guys, though...

Scorpion God = full of god-killing venom

Akul = a "dark curse" that's basically fantasy tuberculosis

Scorpions from Chima = hypnosis mind-control agent that wears off fairly quickly

(Preface for this section: These were random additions that I sent a while later, with little connection to each other.)

Scorpion dads do tend to be deadbeats, but a scorpion mom figure? I would chew that right up.

Re: molting, it is a long, long process, even for something as small as a scorpion. So the bigger they are, the longer it's probably gonna take. It requires a lot of calorie-loading beforehand and can be predicted based on “air pockets” that appear at the sides of the exoskeleton, to give them wiggle room. Scorpions are soft for several days after molting and avoid eating anything until they harden back up.

And did I mention that scorpions glow under ultraviolet light?

So...yeah! Scorpions are so fucking cool, and this is just an overview! This isn't even getting into any particular species! There's just so much to explore in terms of scorpions in fantasy settings, so seeing them reduced to Desert Bad Guy over and over again annoys me.

Put these animals into some situations.

#jasper post #scorpions #animals #long post #legends of chima #lego legends of chima #magic the gathering #dungeons and dragons #tlincalli #the scorpion god #akul #akul the unrepentant #stingerback terror #magda #magda the hoardmaster #scorm #loc scorm #scutter #loc scutter

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