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solxamber · 3 months ago

Note

Could you do adeuce & the overblot gang (separately) trying one of those period cramp simulators like in those videos?

Overblot Gang + Adeuce + Rollo trying period simulators!

part 2 with vice housewardens + Kalim

I found the idea funny and added Rollo for funsies, I hope you don't mind <3

Adeuce

Ace, being the daredevil he is, straps on the period cramp simulator first with a cocky grin. “How bad can it be?” he says, glancing at you like this is no big deal.

The moment you turn it on, though, his face transforms. “W-What the—” he gasps, doubling over like someone just punched him in the gut. “Okay, okay, this is—AHHH, NOPE, TURN IT OFF!” He’s flailing now, hands waving in panic as he tries to yank the device off, hopping around like a fish out of water.

Deuce, meanwhile, watches with wide eyes, realizing it’s his turn next. “Uh, maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Nah, nah, Deuce, you gotta try it,” Ace wheezes between pained groans. “It’s character building!”

Deuce, ever the trooper, reluctantly puts it on. At first, he’s stoic. “I can handle this. It’s just a simulation—OH MY SEVENS!” He crumples into a chair, gripping his stomach as though his life depends on it, tears actually forming in his eyes. “HOW DO PEOPLE LIVE LIKE THIS?!”

Ace, still recovering on the floor, gives him a thumbs up. “We’re never… talking back to anyone going through this… ever again.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle approaches the simulator with the same seriousness he applies to everything else. “This is for educational purposes,” he declares, strapping it on confidently. “I’ll endure it to better understand—”

The moment it starts, his face turns a deep crimson—not from anger, but from sheer pain. His knees buckle, and he grips the nearest chair for dear life, a strained gasp escaping his lips. “T-This can’t be real,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “This is…an injustice to all rules of nature!”

By level three, he’s gasping for air, holding onto the table as if it’s his only lifeline. “TURN IT OFF! THIS SHOULD BE ILLEGAL!”

You switch it off, and Riddle stands there, disheveled and panting, brushing his hair back. “We shall… never speak of this again,” he declares, with his pride barely intact.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona sits back with a smug grin as you offer him the simulator. “Tch, weaklings. I’ve dealt with worse.” he says, lounging lazily as he straps it on. His confidence is off the charts—until you turn it on.

His ears immediately flatten, his eyes go wide, and his whole body tenses up. “The hell is this?!” he growls, clutching his stomach with one hand while the other grips the couch.

By level two, he’s sweating and lowkey whimpering. “Turn it off, turn it off right now.” His tail is thrashing, and there’s no trace of his former bravado. “Whoever made this… is a sadist.”

When you finally switch it off, he glares at you, still slumped on the couch, breathing heavily. “If you tell anyone about this, herbivore, I swear…”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul, ever the schemer, thinks he’s prepared for anything. “This is merely an experiment,” he says, carefully adjusting his glasses as he straps the simulator on. “I’ll be able to handle it with ease.”

As soon as it starts, though, his confident smirk falters. His back stiffens, and he clutches the arms of his chair, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Th-This is...more than I anticipated,” he gasps, his face pale as he tries to remain composed.

By the time you hit level three, Azul’s glasses are askew, and he’s gripping the edge of his desk like his life depends on it. “MAKE IT STOP! I’LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING! HALF-PRICE AT MONSTRO LOUNGE, JUST TURN IT OFF!”

Jamil Viper

Jamil raises an eyebrow at the challenge but doesn’t say no. “This is nothing,” he mumbles, strapping the device on like it’s a task on his daily to-do list. You turn it on, and for a few seconds, he seems unfazed. His poker face is strong.

But as the intensity increases, you see his eye twitch. Then, he’s hunched over, muttering a stream of complaints under his breath, his face contorted in a rare expression of suffering. “This… this is inhuman,” he grits out, shaking his head. “I could’ve been cooking, cleaning, or literally anything else.”

At level four, he’s pressing a hand against his stomach, sweating bullets. “How do people get anything done like this? Who’s responsible for this?!”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil, in true Vil fashion, approaches the whole thing with poise. “I can handle this,” he says, strapping the simulator on like it’s a designer belt. “How painful could it really—”

The second the simulator starts, his perfect posture falters, and he sits down immediately, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh. My. Sevens. This is—”

By level three, he’s doubled over, one hand gripping his stomach and the other clutching his chest dramatically. “This is unbearable! This pain would ruin anyone’s complexion!”

His voice is full of horror as he waves a trembling hand. “Turn it off before it does permanent damage!”

Idia Shroud

Idia’s hair is already flickering with anxiety the moment you suggest he try the simulator. “Y-You’re joking, right? No way!” But you convince him, and he reluctantly straps it on “I’m going to die, I just know it.”

When you turn it on, his reaction is immediate. His hair flares bright neon pink, and he lets out the most dramatic yelp you’ve ever heard. “OH NO, THIS IS IT! THIS IS HOW I GO!” He’s rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach like he’s in the final boss battle of his life.

By level four, he’s practically pleading. “I surrender! I’m done! Game over! JUST TURN IT OFF!” His hair is flashing so brightly it could power a small city.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus approaches the simulator with a curious expression. “A device that mimics pain? Fascinating.” He straps it on with a regal air, as if this is just another strange mortal custom he’s willing to experience.

The moment it starts, though, he pauses. His eyes widen slightly, and he places a hand over his stomach. “This… is quite intense,” he admits, his voice calm but strained.

As the levels increase, his stoic expression falters, and he’s soon gripping the edge of the nearest surface. “Is this…what humans endure regularly?” he asks in disbelief. By the time it reaches full strength, he’s staring at you in awe. “You must be incredibly strong to endure this.”

The storm outside, coincidentally, seems to match his inner turmoil.

Rollo Flamme

Rollo looks at the period cramp simulator with his usual air of disdain. "I fail to see the point of this exercise," he says, folding his arms. But with a raised eyebrow from you, he sighs and reluctantly agrees. “Fine. If only to demonstrate that I can endure whatever nonsense you find amusing.”

He straps it on, looking every bit like he’s about to endure a great trial of fortitude. "Proceed," he says, as if commanding an army.

At level one, Rollo barely flinches. He keeps his usual stoic expression. "Is that all?" he asks, voice flat. But as you increase the intensity, his composure begins to crack. By level three, he’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His jaw tightens, but he's still maintaining his dignity—barely.

"Interesting... sensation," he mutters between clenched teeth, trying to keep his voice steady.

By level four, the calm façade is gone. Rollo’s knuckles are white from gripping the arms of the chair, and his expression is a mix of panic and fury. "This... device is an affront to decency!" he hisses, his face reddening. "Surely no one can focus through such—"

You take it up one more notch.

"TURN IT OFF THIS INSTANT!" Rollo practically yells, his voice cracking as he doubles over, utterly betrayed by his own pride. His normally regal posture is completely gone, replaced by a man clinging to survival.

When you finally switch off the simulator, he’s left panting and disheveled, glaring at you like you’ve committed a personal offense. "That... was barbaric," he wheezes, trying to regain his composure. “I’ll never question your complaints again. That was… inhumane.” He straightens his robes and avoids eye contact, the flush in his cheeks refusing to fade.

"Honestly," he mutters, still flustered, "what vile invention is this world coming to?"

Masterlist

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stevesgother · 1 month ago

Text

Little Red Lighthouse - S.H

Pairing - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings - exes to lovers, second chance romance, angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort, idiots in love, so much pining, cursing, alcohol & drug use, mental health themes

WC - 1.3k

AN - this was originally gonna be a super long oneshot, but in typical emma fashion I'm making it into another mini series

Divider by the amazing @strangergraphics <3

The Alcott. That was your favorite bar in Hawkins; and it was all you could think about sitting outside this shitty bar in Chicago. A mere few hours from home, and yet entirely too far. Just having finished school; it was an education completely orchestrated by your parents. A college you didn’t want to attend, a degree you had no enthusiasm for.

This was how you seemed to be spending most of your days post-undergrad: sulking and ruminating. Everything you could’ve had, but don’t.

–

“Steve, this is insane. That’s like a 15 foot drop!”

You say as you peer over the bridge, shivering slightly in just your underclothes. It was only the cusp of Spring, the weather in Indiana hardly what you would consider “warm”.

“Oh c’mon. You said you would!” He barked a laugh.

“I told my mother that if you jumped off a bridge that I would too as a hypothetical.” You deadpan, even though a smile still tugs the corners of your mouth.

He looked lovely, always did. Moles adorning his cheeks, scattering their way down his back and into his boxers where your vision couldn’t reach. He shot you a grin only reserved for you.

“3..2..1 JUMP!”

“Wait!-”

Steve gripped your hand, pulling you down with him into the icy water below the bridge. Unable to decipher if the sinking feeling in your gut was from the rapid fall of his skin on yours. The shock of the bitterly cold water knocked the wind out of you.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” His smile gleaming at you. Water dripped from his eyelashes, beading on the apples of his cheeks.

“It’s freezing!” you gasp as you surface. He starts to grip your shoulders in his warm hands, then pauses. A sudden nervousness settled and he was staring. You nervously wondered if there was something else in the water with you both. He never broke his stare. Your best friend for a million lifetimes, beautiful as ever. Looking at you as if you hung the moon just for him.

“I think I'm in love with you.”

–

When Steve finally peeled open his eyes and glanced at the blinking red of the alarm clock it read ‘3:00 PM’. His breath tasted of stale liquor as he slowly rose from his unmade bed. Skull pounding, he blindly reached for the painkillers he had made a habit of keeping on his nightstand, for afternoons like this.

Your old friend group planned a ‘welcome home’ party in anticipation for your return to Hawkins. Where you had gone to college out of state and made a new life for yourself, Steve hadn’t seemed to be able to keep his ahead above the violent current that was the trauma he endured here, in your hometown.

As you rested on the train back to Indiana, walkman in hand, you felt an air of nausea.You had started to regret leaving your car at your parents house 4 years ago; unsure whether the knot you felt in your gut was the result of motion sickness, or the thought of having to face him again.

Admittedly you were excited to see your friends again. You hadn’t come home for Christmas, for Thanksgiving, not even for summer breaks – always opting to stay as far away from that living nightmare as possible. You told yourself little lies. That it wasn’t because Steve Harrington still resided there, and with him, everything you lost. Everything you know you can never get back.

The air in Steve’s office was stiff and smelled of stale coffee. Robin sits in a less than lady-like position across from him in a chair unofficially designated for her. A plaque that reads “Chief” sat crooked between them from where Robin had set down the paper bag containing their lunch.

“You’re going to have to face her at some point, Steve.” Her voice snaps him out of his dissociative state.

“Yeah, I got it.” He sighs irritably, all traces of enthusiasm drained from his tone.

“I’m just saying,” she starts, “it's been four years. I’m sure she’s moved on, man. No bad blood.” It’s meant to be reassuring, but she doesn’t understand that that's entirely the problem. He gives her a skeptical stare. “Look, we’ll all be there. You have a ton of buffer people. Just stop by for a few minutes? For me?” The childish pout she gives in an attempt to guilt-trip is enough to push him over the edge.

“Rob- okay, fine. Stop making that face. For an hour. Not a second longer.” He points a finger at her, not unkindly.

–

As your car crunches over the gravel in the parking lot of Robin’s apartment complex, you can’t help but notice it’s already filled with cars despite you being perfectly on time. All the windows you knew belonged to her unit were lit a glowing yellow behind sheer curtains, allowing you glimpses of mingling silhouettes. You wonder briefly if this was intentional, or if in your never-ending brain fog, you managed to jumble the times.

A quick glance around the lot reveals that your friends still have the same cars they did all those years ago. Jonathan’s Ford LTD, Nancy’s Volkswagen Cabrio, and an achingly familiar maroon BMW 733i. Your heart jumps to your throat when you see it, accompanied by a sharp twist of betrayal in your chest as you don’t recall Robin ever mentioning he would be here. You suppose you can’t blame her.

You stop to take several deep breaths at the front door. You can hear the bass of an old, classic tune bumping inside and you try to time your breathing with it. In three, hold three, out three, and repeat. You raise your fist to knock before thinking it silly, so you just give the knob a tentative twist and walk in.

The room erupts in ‘Hey!’’s and ‘There she is!’’s. It’s a relief to realize they don’t hate your guts, even though they’ve always made it clear that they don’t. A nauseating guilt settles over you as you’re reminded of how long you’ve left them with barely any word from you at all– the pain of this town and everything that happened in it just too much to bear; even if they were your best friends.

Back then, talking to them sounded like long, mucousy vines that strangled and trapped. It sounded like the bitter cold and emptiness of your hometown mirrored just beneath your feet. It sounded like watching chunks of flesh be ripped from the stomach of the boy you loved. It sounded like his screams for your help and you just couldn’t– you needed time.

Now though, as they wrap you in hugs and you smell the homey scent of your best friends apartment, it feels less like then and more like now. Over Nancy’s shoulder, slightly obscured by her usually wild curls, you catch the eye of the one person not dogpiling you, and fight the grimace threatening to surface. You don’t hate Steve, not by any sense of the word– you just can’t look at his stupid, beautiful face without remembering what you did to him.

When everyone disperses, satisfied with their greetings, you can really take in Steve’s appearance in front of you. The years haven’t been unkind to him, but he looks tired. Day old, maybe two, stubble shadows his usually bright face. He fills out the red sweater and light wash Levi’s he wears nicely. You think he’ll always have that boyish Harrington charm, but he looks more like a man than when you left him.

You walk towards him hesitantly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

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qyxzun · 9 months ago

Text

🕸️┆𝕻𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄.

╰┈➤ ❝𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘𝐘𝐘𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐓'𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, my name is Y/N L/N. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for about two years, I've been the one and only spider woman. I'm pretty sure you know the rest.

Been fighting other bad guys, helping cats off trees, saving plains from crashing into buildings, you know—the basics.

I lost my best friends when I realized one of them was my nemesis.

but that didn't stop me from fighting for the better!

I just wish I wasn't alone. What if there was another universe where someone understood me?

whatever, probably just my imagination.❞

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝟗𝟐𝟔-𝐙, there was you, sleeping in bed so peacefully before your loud blaring alarm on your phone started to ring for the fifth time. You groaned when the sound disrupted your sleep before you finally picked up your phone to check what time it was. your eyes completely widened. You were late for school.

"Shit!" you cursed, pushing yourself off the bed and running to the bathroom to take the quickest bath you could. Taking off your clothes, dosing yourself with the shower's water, and quickly soaping up your entire body. As quickly as you entered, you almost tripped, going out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your soaked body. You ran back to your room, sloppily but quickly putting on your Brooklyn Visions Academy uniform. You still think that school is elitist, but you can't complain for now.

With no time to spare other than lacing up your shoes and taking your unzipped bag, you ran out of your dorm, forgetting to lock the door. You started to quickly jog your way to the school with your bag slung in front of you in an attempt to zip it closed with your papers and work securely inside. Traffic was booming like crazy, which made you groan impatiently. "My luck should really not be affecting my school," you grumbled.

The light finally turned red, letting pedestrians pass. You pushed past multiple people, apologizing when you ran through them as you continued to sprint to the school's entrance. When you finally stepped inside the school, you ran to your locker, put your bag and stuff away, and sprinted so fast to your class before the bell could ring. You arrived just in time, holding your textbooks by the door while a bead of sweat ran down your neck.

You panted, out of breath from running the entire morning, while your professor looked at you, unimpressed that you were late for how many times?

"Tardy again, Y/N. Keep up if you want to pass this year." She said, obviously hinting that you were someone who didn't care about education. Rude.

You nervously walked to your seat with your heavy books in hand while your classmates watched you sit down. Your professor passed by and gave you multiple papers stapled together as your exam. You skimmed through it, and the questions were almost a big blur for you when you saw how hard you should've studied instead of fighting other criminals on a daily basis. You held your mechanical pencil tight, wondering what to write while your other classmates were all silent and focused on the exams, unlike you, who had no idea. You wrote down what you knew, but you still felt anxious. You really didn't want to fail this exam; it could be your last before you would have to move to another school. You liked that option, but your parents worked too hard, climbing the ranks so you could have an easier life once you passed your exams. Since when was life decided by a piece of paper?

Minutes into the exam, suddenly, you heard a loud explosion near the back of your school. It was muffled through the thick walls, yet it was obvious something dangerous had happened. Your spider senses tingled, and you lifted your head abruptly while your class looked around, wondering what that could be while the teacher noticed their confused and worried expressions.

"Everyone calm down! Form a line and carefully leave the school through the front," your professor ordered, yet most students had already started running out of the classroom, ignoring her orders.

You quickly ran out too, pushing past the rest of the students while you navigated back to your locker. You grabbed your bag from inside and forgot to close it, prioritizing the situation at hand as you went to the bathroom.

"Guess I have to do my job again," you sighed while you quickly locked the toilet stall. You opened your bag, your spider suit folded neatly and tucked between your other textbooks inside. You took off your uniform, changing into the tight spider suit swiftly. You made sure to keep your mask securely on; protecting your identity was the most important part of it.

Finally dressed for battle and your bag slung on your back, you climbed out through the restroom's window, flicking multiple webs out of your fingertips. They swiftly stuck to one of the school's large pillars, and they allowed you to swing away quickly. You swung from building to building easily, reaching the back of the school to see seven vehicles crash together, causing a fire to spread throughout the school's background. Multiple police cars and ambulances were parked nearby, with the paramedics taking as many victims as they could on stretchers and transporting them to the ambulance crew.

You saw many policemen trying to save the injured under the rubble and from the fire as well. You knew they could get in the way of your job, so you created a diversion. You shot a web inside the policeman's car, the sticky string immediately reaching and pressing on the accelerator as it slowly moved forward, catching their attention.

"Woah—woah, woah—hey!!" one of them hollered, trying to reach the advancing car alongside his other colleagues. It gave you enough time to reach the exploded area with your webs.

"This is a whole mess," you mumbled to yourself under your mask as you reached another building's wall. You quickly climbed higher and swiftly shot individual webbing from your fingertips, each web reaching pieces of heavy debris on top of the injured. You held and wrapped all five webs around your palm, pulling the rubble off of the victims with your bare hand as your webs carried them to the side.

The concerned police officers ran to the injured with paramedics, yet the fire persisted, causing another explosion near the colliding cars. You were thinking of a plan to somehow save all of these people while you internally grew more anxious.

"What the hell is causing these explosions?" You grunted, frustrated. You loathed seeing people get injured while you tried to think of something. You jumped from the high wall, plunging down as you shot webs toward the heavily injured near the fire. You pulled them close, carrying more than three people while their blood smeared on your spider suit.

You quickly rested their bodies near where the ambulances could see them before you swung back to the high roof of the building. Your spider senses suddenly tingled before you turned around. On the building's edge, you saw the villain behind it all.

"Who the hell is this guy?" You said, looking down to the edge, and saw a lizard... or a goblin? You didn't know. You shot webs once more in its direction, propelling yourself up before you landed a harsh kick in its face. It let out a loud grunt as saliva was knocked out of his mouth. You sent him flying to another building's wall before he collapsed on the ground.

You walked over to it cautiously, a foot on his chest as you stepped on it harder. You glared down at him, looking down at a vile creature who hurt your people. It coughed, its vision blurry before it looked up to you, it started chuckling with your foot on his scales. "We meet again Peter," it said, smirking.

"Who the hell is Peter?" You retorted, raising an eyebrow behind your mask while it looked at you as if you were playing with his head.

"Oh, don't lie now, Peter... I know all about—" The vile lizard was about to continue, but it was cut off when it saw your features more clearly. You had more of a feminine body. Your muscles weren't as built, but you were strong enough to consider its enemy, like Peter. You had bigger hips and smaller shoulders than a man. Not to mention the obvious, your suit wasn't one it recognized. Its expression turned from smug to confused. You weren't the Peter it knew.

With rage blinding its confusion, it growled and grabbed your ankle with its large clawed hand, pulling your foot off its chest as it caused you to almost lose balance.

"Who are you?" It glared, looking at you with disdain and anger. You, on the other hand, were confused about why it didn't know you when you were literally the spider-woman.

"I'm spider-woman? The hero?" You rhetorically responded before it sneered and tossed you to the side of the building. You reacted quickly as you shot webs at its face, blinding it and pulling on the webs before you could hit the wall with its heavy weight. You adroitly landed on the floor again.

"Okay, dude—that's not nice," you pout under your mask while it growled in frustration when your webs blinded its field of vision. The creature almost tore off its eyes, in an attempt to take the sticky web off its face while it bled. The oversized lizard was raging mad before it charged toward you at full speed. You were about to swing burning wreckage to its face with your webs before a sudden brightness appeared from above.

You both looked up in confusion before you suddenly saw a red web hastily tie your green rival into scarlet webbing. It came out of what seemed to be a bright light formed with hexagons while it glitched. You haven't seen anything like it, thinking it could be another threat. "Argh!!!" The creature thundered before you saw what seemed to be another spider-man go through the portal. He promptly punched the lizard's head, blood coming out of its mouth, before it crashed into another building's wall.

The mysterious man stood up once he apprehended the green goblin with his webs. He tied it with his webs effortlessly while you approached him, his head slightly turning to look at you.

"So, like, who are you?" You asked, putting a hand on your hip before he turned around to fully face you.

"Classified," He spoke with a low tone, keeping it short and cold. You hummed, thinking of who he could be.

"You Peter? That green, uh, creature was looking after Peter or something. I don't know," you shrugged while the man was still silent, like he was judging you secretly with that glare.

You cleared your throat, a bit uncomfortable that he wasn't responding to your question. "Well, anyway, gotta deal with the fire and stuff. Gotta go blue panther." You were about to walk to the fire, mostly to save more victims before he stepped in front of you.

"It's alright, kid. I'll take it from here." He responded, his tone still cold, while his hand was slightly raised, telling you to stand down. Your spider senses tingled after he said that. You looked up behind him as you saw the green goblin manage to escape his webbing and cause more havoc behind the tall, muscular spider-man. In a fit of rage, the creature threw a burning truck in your direction.

"Oh, shit—look out!" You yelled, shooting a web at the spider-man's chest before pulling him away from the landing truck. You quickly moved away as well, but suddenly hissed in pain and fell near the fire. You groaned when you saw your burned forearm and noticed that your spider-suit was covered in cinders after smelling something burning.

"Puta madre--!" the spider-man growled before claws started to grow out of his hands. With animalistic ferocity, he chased after the goblin, shooting a web on his way to get to him faster. His speed never slowed down as his legs ran faster and faster, almost like a car on a highway.

Meanwhile, you winced when you pushed yourself up before your senses started to go haywire again. You turned around and saw more people in the burning debris while firefighters arrived and started to put out the flames. You hastily followed the spider-man from before by crawling up on top of a very tall building. Your eyes quickly scanned the area, searching for him. You spotted the lizard causing more trouble as it climbed up the building in front of you. His claws dug into the wall, causing more debris to fall, almost hitting more pedestrians. The other spider-man turned his head around, watching as the debris started to rain down on the citizens. He was so conflicted; he was so close to catching the goblin, yet the civilians were in danger.

"Fuck!" The man cursed, shooting a web to catch the debris, yet he failed. He grunted, turning his attention back to his target. He continued to chase the green goblin. You, on the other hand, thought fast and jumped down while shooting multiple webs to make a gigantic spider web to catch all the falling debris. Your webbing was strong enough to carry the heavy rubble and the burning damage before it could hit the others. Once you were sure it was holding everything in place, you shot another web, swinging yourself to the injured, who couldn't move. You picked them up— two on your back and one in your arms. They were barely alive when you gently laid them down somewhere more safe.

Your head lifted when you heard a cry. "M-Mama! Please! Help!!" A child screamed while you put all the victims away near the policemen. You turned your head back, realizing one of them was still stuck in the fire. You didn't hesitate to run back, propelling yourself into the air to see where the kid could be. You then saw her crawling up into a ball, a toy in her arms, while she looked around with tears in her eyes, afraid of the fire. She coughed profusely, almost running out of oxygen, while tears prickled her eyes. Even with the burnt forearm, you quickly and nimbly landed in front of her, picking her up easily while she didn't know what was happening. Yet she held onto you tighter than her toy. You shot another web at a building, pulling the two of you up before swinging away to where it was safe.

When you slowly descended to the ground with the child hugging your neck tightly, you saw a weeping woman on the ground with multiple injuries. Your eyes softened, worried behind your mask. You looked back at the kid, noticing she looked like she could be her child. You approached her. "Ma'am," you called out to her, getting her attention before you put down the kid in front of her. She gasped and brought her into her arms, pulling her into a very tight hug while they both wept.

"Thank you," the woman whimpered before looking up at your masked face. "Thank you for saving all of us." She smiled while sobbing, looking around at the people you saved. Even though they were injured, you managed to save all of them. You nodded your head, smiling behind your mask as you flashed her a thumbs-up.

You heard a thump behind you, hinting that the tall spider-man was behind you before you turned around to see him holding the green lizard with his red webs. "Hey," you said, looking up to him. "Caught the lizard?" As you chuckled, you noticed that he still had that unfazed look on his face. It seemed like he was trying to put up a brave front in front of the crowd. After a brief pause, he cleared his throat before responding.

"Follow me," he ordered with a reserved tone as he shot a web and pulled himself up to a very tall skyscraper. You followed behind him, the wind blowing into your face before you landed gracefully on top of the skyscraper.

There, you saw him tap on something on his wrist before another portal opened, the same bright orange hexagons forming the strange entrance while they rotated slowly. Your eyes squinted from how bright it was, while he still had the same expression as before. He got ready to throw the lizard into the portal, while it struggled and squirmed under his tight webs. "This is not the last time you'll see me, Peter!" It yelled, glaring daggers at you and the tall spider-man, until he was thrown into the portal. It created a short blast before the portal returned to normal.

You were quiet for a bit, not knowing what to say. He then turned around to face you, the portal closing very slowly while he approached you. "I'm from another dimension," he admitted while you gasped dramatically, knowing the obvious.

"You are.?! Woahhhhh.." Your eyes were wide behind your mask. He glared at your sarcasm, crossing his arms as it showed his muscles behind the tight suit.

"Take this seriously, chiquilla," he monotonously replied before clearing his throat and looking away. There was a small pause before he spoke. "You showed great abilities when you saved all those people." As soon as you received the compliment, his eyes shifted back to you while yours lit up with joy. It felt like you were a kid again, basking in the glory of a teacher's praise for acing a test.

He didn't say anything else. He looked down at his hand and slowly formed a fist. You watched him, wondering what he'd be doing. You tilted your head to the side, trying to see what was in his palm when it slowly opened. After a few more moments, he opened his fist.

"A watch?" You looked confusedly before he tossed it to you; you easily caught it, observing it. "What the hell is this for?" You asked, looking back at him. You finally noticed that it was the same watch he had on his wrist.

"You'll feel more at home," he responded stoically. He took the watch and helped you put it on properly. "... and we can use the help," he said.

"Who's we?" You asked, bewildered, becoming more baffled than ever. You'll feel more at home, he said. What did that even mean? You took off your mask, getting a clearer view of him, as you had a concerned face. "Who even are you?" You replied like you were annoyed for not knowing the entire truth.

His mask slowly distorted into pixels as it showed his face. "Miguel O'hara." He simply responded, looking down at you with his intimidating, tired brown eyes. He then slowly turned around, walking to the portal that hadn't been closed yet. You watched him enter the bright hexagons before you watched him disappear in front of your eyes.

You gripped the watch tightly.

𝕾𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄.

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haggishlyhagging · 2 years ago

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“By 1900 child mortality was already declining—not because of anything the medical profession had accomplished, but because of general improvements in sanitation and nutrition. Meanwhile the birthrate had dropped to an average of about three and a half; women expected each baby to live and were already taking measures to prevent more than the desired number of pregnancies. From a strictly biological standpoint then, children were beginning to come into their own.

Economic changes too pushed the child into sudden prominence at the turn of the century. Those fabled, pre-industrial children who were "seen, but not heard," were, most of the time, hard at work—weeding, sewing, fetching water and kindling, feeding the animals, watching the baby. Today, a four-year-old who can tie his or her own shoes is impressive. In colonial times, four-year-old girls knitted stockings and mittens and could produce intricate embroidery; at age six they spun wool. A good, industrious little girl was called "Mrs." instead of "Miss" in appreciation of her contribution to the family economy: she was not, strictly speaking, a child.

But when production left the houschold, sweeping away the dozens of chores which had filled the child's day, childhood began to stand out as a distinct and fascinating phase of life. It was as if the late Victorian imagination, still unsettled by Darwin's apes, suddenly looked down and discovered, right at knee-level, the evolutionary missing link. Here was the pristine innocence which adult men romanticized, and of course, here, in miniature, was the future which today's adult men could not hope to enter in person. In the child lay the key to the control of human evolution. Its habits, its pastimes, its companions were no longer trivial matters, but issues of gravest importance to the entire species.

This sudden fascination with the child came at a time in American history when child abuse—in the most literal and physical sense—was becoming an institutional feature of the expanding industrial economy. Near the turn of the century, an estimated 2,250,000 American children under fifteen were full-time laborers—in coal mines, glass factories, textile mills, canning factories, in the cigar industry, and in the homes of the wealthy—in short, wherever cheap and docile labor could be used. There can be no comparison between the conditions of work for a farm child (who was also in most cases a beloved family member) and the conditions of work for industrial child laborers. Four-year-olds worked sixteen-hour days sorting beads or rolling cigars in New York City tenements; five-year-old girls worked the night shift in southern cotton mills.

So long as enough girls can be kept working, and only a few of them faint, the mills are kept going; but when faintings are so many and so frequent that it does not pay to keep going, the mills are closed.

These children grew up hunched and rickety, sometimes blinded by fine work or the intense heat of furnaces, lungs ruined by coal dust or cotton dust—when they grew up at all. Not for them the "century of the child," or childhood in any form:

The golf links lie so near the mill

That almost every day

The laboring children can look out

And see the men at play.

Child labor had its ideological defenders: educational philosophers who extolled the lessons of factory discipline, the Catholic hierarchy which argued that it was a father's patriarchal right to dispose of his children's labor, and of course the mill owners themselves. But for the reform-oriented, middle-class citizen the spectacle of machines tearing at baby flesh, of factories sucking in files of hunched-over children each morning, inspired not only public indignation, but a kind of personal horror. Here was the ultimate "rationalization" contained in the logic of the Market: all members of the family reduced alike to wage slavery, all human relations, including the most ancient and intimate, dissolved in the cash nexus. Who could refute the logic of it? There was no rationale (within the terms of the Market) for supporting idle, dependent children. There were no ties of economic self-interest to preserve the family. Child labor represented a long step toward that ultimate "anti-utopia" which always seemed to be germinating in capitalist development: a world engorged by the Market, a world without love.”

-Barbara Ehrenreich and Deirdre English, For Her Own Good: 150 Years of the Experts�� Advice to Women

#barbara ehrenreich #Deirdre English #child labor #capitalism #patriarchy #amerika #industrial revolution

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 9 months ago

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Norsemen & Anglo-Saxons Chapter 3

Any Viking/Norse words and customs were found on Google, so if it's incorrect please educate me!!

Summary: Princess Y/N has a secret that her parents are ashamed of. A conquering Viking chief recognizes the gift she has. Will they be able to bring peace between warring people, and maybe find love along the way?

Viking!Bucky Warnings: eventual smut, abuse, violence, animal attack, blood

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Y/N held Bucky’s arm as he led her through the village. People who hadn’t been down by the shore watched her walk by, some of them bowing and others smiling widely. They reached a tall black structure, the hof, or temple as Bucky explained, and she was separated from Bucky and brought inside. She followed Winnifred until she was presented to a group of women who were surrounding a bath. They were all in simple strapped dresses, as the heat of the water dampened the air heavily.

“We must prepare you for the marriage ceremony tonight,” Winnifred said. Y/N nodded, trying to relax the nervous flutter of her heart. “They will take care of you, and I will come for you when they’re finished.” Y/N was stripped and washed extensively. Her hair and teeth were brushed and cleaned, her body scrubbed in all the crevices, even in spots she was embarrassed being touched. She took it all in stride, assuming that it was customary. When it was all done she was dried off with a fine blanket and then dressed in an outfit like what Winnifred was wearing, but the dress was a dark green color and the fur adorned on her shoulders was that of a fox, the red complimenting the dress nicely. Her hair was braided and her fingertips dipped in a red paint that dyed her skin quickly. She was given a necklace that attached to her dress made of beads, metal and bone. A circlet crown was placed atop her head nestled in her hair, made of finely woven metal, more beads and tiny pieces of gold.

Winnifred came to collect her and brought her to the front door of the temple. “I will present you to our people, and you will be given a new name,” she explained.

“A new name?” Y/N questioned. “What’s wrong with my name?”

“Nothing, my child. You will go by both names. Y/N, your English given name, and a new Danish one, given by prophecy from a seer…me,” she gave Y/N a wink. Y/N nodded as Winnifred tapped the doors with her staff. They opened instantly from the outside and Y/N was greeted by everyone in the village, torches lining the way as nightfall set in. Winnifred led her out into the small clearing in front of the temple. “I give you Y/N, a lost daughter of Freya, our soon-to-be Drottning and wife of my son, James.” She lifted her hands towards the sky. “I call upon our Aesir! We present this child to you for reclamation!” Her hands shook and a faraway rumble of thunder was heard, making the crowd of people mumble as they watched the sky. The clouds seemed to clear for a moment, and as the stars peeked through Winnifred smiled. “Astrid,” she beamed. She placed her hands on Y/N’s face. “Y/N Astrid, daughter of Freya, Drottning of the Danes, child of the stars.”

The crowd of people cheered as Y/N smiled at Winnifred. Winnifred led her to Bucky who stood nearby. He had also bathed and was dressed in a long dark red tunic, brown pants and deep brown boots, an even longer fur coat on his shoulders. His braids and hair adornments were renewed and he wore a necklace with a round pendant. Y/N gawked at him, appreciating him all cleaned up as he took her hand, leading her through the people. Many of them reached out their hands to touch her, speaking to her in their language and some in English congratulating her and welcoming her. Bucky led her to a clearing in the middle of the village with a large bonfire heating the area. There were garlands covered in flowers and fruit, furs placed throughout the seating areas, and people playing instruments she didn’t recognize. A few women were singing along with the music, their voices hauntingly rippling through the air. Something about the whole thing felt so right, so comforting, so true, that Y/N fought back tears watching them celebrate.

They approached an arch made of horns where another woman dressed similar to Winnifred stood. As people got into positions around the fire and seating areas the woman held her hand up to quiet the players and singers. She held up her painted red hands that were holding a braided rope that was made of fabrics, ribbons and a strip of a black animal pelt.

“Frigg! We bring to you a couple wishing to bind themselves together in life and beyond.” She gestured to them to give her their hands. They presented their entwined hands to her and she proceeded to bind their hands together. She started what sounded like a prayer in their language and Bucky lowered his head. Y/N followed quickly. As the prayer continued Y/N felt her power flowing through her without thinking about it or calling upon it herself. Her hands began glowing in the binding, and as the woman’s voice rose in volume the power seeped into Bucky’s hands. He didn’t react at first until the power seemed to inject into the veins of his hand. His eyebrows furrowed, then a low hiss passed through his teeth, and then he began to shiver as the green light zapped through him. Y/N looked on in horror, trying to release his hands but unable to because of the binding. She looked at the woman, who was still chanting, and then behind her to Winnifred, who just nodded at her with a serene look on her face. Bucky shivered more violently then suddenly stopped, his body almost going rigid before a heavy sigh left his mouth. The woman finished her prayer and did the motion in front of her face that Bucky and Winnifred had done in greeting before turning towards him.

“Awaken, White Wolf,” the woman said quietly. Bucky’s eyes opened and he blinked rapidly until his gaze met Y/N’s eyes. She gasped upon seeing her power flash in his irises before it disappeared. “You now share the power of Freya, Jarl. She has bestowed her gift through her daughter to you. Your children, their children, and their children and so on will carry this power, this gift, this responsibility. Treat it well and with respect, else it will be taken from you and lost forever to the land and its people. May it bless your lives together.” She reared back and let out what almost sounded like a howl. The people around them all did the same.

“Frigg and Freya bless this union happily. You may seal this marriage with a kiss.”

Bucky still looked shocked at what had just happened but smiled as he leaned down to Y/N. He pressed his lips to hers as they shared their first kiss. The people around them cheered, and yet Y/N couldn’t hear them. She was too entranced by his lips, the softness, the tenderness, but most of all the fire it ignited deep within her. A rush of their now combined power flowed through them and melted into the ground below them, creating another whistling wind that sounded like laughter and a rumble in the earth that sounded like a hum of acceptance.

He pulled away and grinned widely at her. The woman untied their hands and Y/N immediately brought her hands to his face. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what was happening, I didn’t mean to hurt you–”

“I’m fine, my Drottning,” he kissed her nose. “I feel…reborn.” Y/N huffed out a laugh as she scratched his beard, the worry still etched on her face. “Now we celebrate, Asynja,” he pulled her along to one of the seating areas and pulled her into his lap.

The night was filled with songs and dances and performances. There were even fights, with the people making bets on who would win. Mead flowed heavily and food was shared as the night drew on. Y/N was approached by many of the people, some of them just to say hello, others to bless her and Bucky, and others who asked for blessings from her to their children. Y/N didn’t know what to say, and yet each time something deep inside her seemed to take over and the words just spilled from her mouth. After hours deep into the night Winnifred stepped forward.

“It is time for the union to be completed,” she motioned to Bucky and Y/N to follow her. There were some “oohs” and “aahs” and whistles heard through the crowd as Bucky excitedly pulled Y/N out of the clearing and back towards the temple. Once they’d reached it the women who had bathed Y/N before opened the doors for them. A large bed had appeared in the temple where benches and tables had once been. Y/N tensed as she knew what was to come next. “Here I leave you. Congratulations my dear Bucky,” she took his face in her hands again, giving his cheeks a pinch, “and welcome to the family, Y/N Astrid,” she walked up to Y/N and pressed her forehead against Y/N’s forehead. She gave them one final head bow then retreated back towards the clearing.

Bucky pulled Y/N into the temple and the doors were closed behind them. Y/N was still tense as she stared at the bed. The temple was warm, making her start to sweat under the fox fur she wore, but she was afraid to make the first move and take anything off. She knew what the wedding night entailed, how it was done, but had never done it before herself. It was a strict rule that an English princess was to be untouched by anyone until her wedding night with her new husband. Y/N didn’t know if the Danes had different traditions.

“You look afraid,” Bucky observed.

“That’s because I am,” Y/N answered quietly.

“So it’s true? The English don’t let their royals do anything until marriage?”

“Yes,” Y/N glanced at him, surprised. “At least, they try. Have you done this before?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, but not because I wasn’t supposed to. Just because, well, war,” he said somberly. “Never got the chance. Or found someone I’d be willing to be with.” Y/N nodded, her eyes flitting around the room. Her breathing became heavier as her nervousness gripped her heart. “Hey,” he stepped in front of her. “It’s going to be fine. We will learn. Together.”

Y/N nodded again as she tried to slow her breathing. Bucky pulled her chin up with his finger so she would look at him. He leaned his face down to her and brushed his lips down her cheek leaving a wake of small kisses across her nose to the other cheek, and then hovered above her lips. Y/N’s eyes fluttered as she watched him, her eyes flicking back and forth from his eyes to his lips. He pressed his lips against hers like he had for their first kiss, then angled his head to deepen it, pressing more firmly against her mouth. The fire deep within her was ignited once again as his lips moved against hers. Her hands gripped his shirt as his arms wrapped around behind her and pulled her flush to his body.

Bucky walked backwards with her until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. He slid his fur off and then broke the kiss and sat. His hands slid from her face to her shoulders and unhooked the fox fur off of her, then slid behind her and untied the back of her dress. It loosened around her and she let it slide down her body. She wore an almost sheer underdress and some underwear underneath it. Bucky pulled her underwear down and helped her pull the underdress over her head until she was left bare before him. Y/N instinctively started to cover her breasts with her arms, her legs trying to cross to cover her most private parts, but he held her still. “You’re beautiful, Y/N, don’t hide from me.”

He leaned forward and kissed her stomach then dragged his lips across her skin to the underside of her left breast. He kissed it, making her shiver, then licked his way to her nipple, giving it a soft lick and then sucking it into his mouth. Y/N’s hands shook as they laced behind his head, holding him against her as he nipped lightly at her skin. His hand went to her other breast and massaged it, his fingers rubbing her other nipple.

Y/N’s knees felt like they were about to give out from the pleasure she felt at just his mouth and fingers on her. She gasped as he switched breasts, his mouth now laving at the opposite nipple. He let out small whimpers as he sucked and licked her, his breathing becoming faster. Y/N moaned at a particularly hard suck, her head falling back. Bucky’s metal hand slid down in between her legs, his fingers rubbing her lower lips until he found the little spot that had her nearly buckling against him. The metal against her skin felt glorious. His mouth let her breast go with a pop and he stood.

He turned and pushed Y/N onto the bed and motioned for her to scoot up as he kicked off his boots. He pulled his shirt, pants and underwear off and stood before her. Y/N’s heart rate jumped as she looked at him. The contrast of his metal arm against his skin was tantalizing, but she was shocked by the amount of markings he had on his body hidden under his clothes. A tapestry of animals and runes littered his torso and his right arm. As her gaze wandered down she audibly gulped. This man was huge in every way. Her widened eyes made him laugh. “It will be alright, Drottning,” he said as he crawled onto the bed. “I will get you ready for me.” He laid on his front and hooked his arms around her legs, pulling her body towards him so that her core was in front of his face. She tensed, not knowing what he was doing. He felt her hesitation and smiled up at her. “I’ve been told that this helps. You’ll like it, I promise,” he winked at her. Y/N nodded. He kissed her thigh and then dipped his head down. She wasn’t sure what to expect until she felt his tongue lick her slit and she gasped loudly. He licked her lower lips languidly then would dip further into her and flick at her entrance. He moved upwards and found that spot again, flicking his tongue quickly on it. Y/N’s back arched, her hips trying to twist out of his iron grip, not because it was painful but because it almost felt too good.

“Bucky…” Y/N moaned, her hands pulling at his hair. It only spurred him on, a deep hum from his mouth vibrating into her pussy, making her squeal. He sucked on the spot and unlooped his flesh arm from her hip. She felt one of his fingers start to prod at her entrance that was quickly getting wetter by the second. He slipped his finger in then thrust it in and out slowly. Y/N felt a tension deep in her gut start building. He slipped another finger into her, stretching her as he thrust them in and out, picking up in speed as his lips sucked her spot into his mouth. The tension was making her see stars, her legs trying to clamp shut around his head. He then sped his fingers up again and started flicking the spot harshly with his tongue. Y/N moaned loudly as the sensations all became too much and she felt the tension snap inside her. She felt a gush come from her by Bucky’s mouth as she nearly ripped at his hair. Her legs shook uncontrollably and her hips bucked violently. The feeling started to ebb away and Bucky pulled his fingers out of her, licking some of the liquid that came from her before pulling himself up.

“Taste so good, my Drottning,” he said in a husky whisper. He lifted his wet fingers to her mouth. She opened her mouth instinctively and he put them in, making her taste herself. She moaned a little at the taste as she tried to breathe normally again.

Bucky’s fingers retreated and he put them in his own mouth, licking up anything left she didn’t get. He spread her legs further apart and settled between them, his hips inching closer to hers. Y/N tensed again, knowing what he was about to do. “I don’t think it will…” she started, then shut her mouth.

“I’ll go slow,” he promised, kissing her again. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Y/N hesitantly nodded. Bucky took his stiff cock in his hand and pumped it a few times, making himself moan, then lined it up with her pussy. The head of it slowly pushed into her, making both of them groan. Y/N tried to relax but felt herself tensing at the intrusion. Bucky stopped and began sucking at her breasts again, distracting from the pain and pressure. As he worked her into another pleasurable frenzy he would slowly inch forward, until he was fully sheathed inside of her. Y/N appreciated him going slow, letting her adjust to him, and when he was all the way in she sighed.

“It feels…so full…” Y/N said dreamily. The fullness was making her feel delirious, like she had been missing something she didn’t know was a possibility. If it always felt this good she wanted him inside at all times.

“So tight, Asynja. Ah,” he gasped as her pussy fluttered around him. “Gods, you feel so good…so right,” Bucky slowly pulled back then pushed forwards, letting her feel every part of him. Her hips trembled again, her legs wrapping around his hips as he continued to thrust in and out of her. She looked down at where they were joined, watching him move in and out of her, the sight making her whine deep in her throat. Bucky moaned at the noise she made, pulling her head up with his hand and kissing her passionately. As their tongues entangled his hips started moving faster, making her gasp against his mouth as her eyes rolled back in her head. “Feel good, my Drottning? You beautiful, powerful, strong woman…destined for me,” he whispered against her ear as his head dropped into the crook of her neck. He thrust harder into her, making her fingers dig into his back. “Mine,” he nearly growled as his hips rolled.

Y/N felt a heady drunkenness setting into her mind, her head feeling foggy as the pleasure took over all of her senses. She felt herself nodding as he claimed her. “Yours,” she babbled, whimpering with each hard thrust as the tension built again deep in her core. “Your Drottning…your Asynja…my Bucky…” Bucky suddenly hauled himself up, holding her against him so that he was thrusting up into her. The angle made her yelp as he felt even deeper than before.

“That’s right, you're mine…I’m yours…Y/N Astrid, my star,” he pulled her down onto him as he thrust upwards.

The snap was unexpected and even more tightly wound this time, so much so that when Y/N screamed his name it reverberated through the temple. She clung to him as her entire body tensed and she gushed around him. Her pussy squeezed him like a vice and he shouted as he finished inside of her. Y/N could feel him filling her up and it prolonged her shaking around him as she whimpered with each shock she felt spread from her pussy. Bucky fell to the bed, stopping himself from crushing her at the last second. They lay together, sweaty and exhausted as they came down from the high.

Bucky turned his head and kissed Y/N’s cheek softly. She smiled, her tired eyes blinking slowly at him as he rubbed his nose against hers. “I think we’re pretty good at this,” he huffed out a laugh. Y/N giggled, then groaned as Bucky slid his cock out of her, making him hiss. He lay next to her as they both stared up at the ceiling. Y/N felt around for his hand and laced her fingers in his. Bucky smiled widely at the gesture.

Just as Y/N was on the brink of falling asleep she felt a fur being draped over her and a kiss to her forehead. She smiled dreamily and snuggled close to Bucky’s warmth. She had done it. Married the supposed enemy, created an alliance that brought peace to his and her people, and found a new home that was accepting of her and the magic she possessed. She missed Alfie terribly, but hoped that in due time, if her ability had shown her correctly, he would be alright and become the great king he was destined to be.

**picture is A.I. from Pinterest, unknown original "artist" or "creator"**

@wintrsoldrluvr

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #smut #viking!bucky barnes x reader #viking!bucky barnes #viking #medieval #chapter 3 #princess!reader #powers!reader #magic

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owlespresso · 7 months ago

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dogged pursuit. dr veritas ratio. p3 of ? / part 1, part 2 summary: you've been appointed as the bodyguard of one doctor veritas ratio after a failed attempt on his life. he's easy to get along with, so long as you learn when to plug your ears and focus on his washboard abs. tags. suggestive content, reader insert is a bit of a freak, mr dr ratio is getting OBJECTIFIED!

He’s doing it, again. You’re sure he’s not even cognizant of it. The irresistible nature of him, nestled in every curve and bough of his body, perfect and smooth as the statues he painstakingly labors over.

He’s been quieter, today. You get the sense that he feels a little guilty about his tantrum yesterday. It’s already water under the bridge, as far as you’re concerned. He can have a mouth on him because he’s pretty. Because you’re sure there’s some deep-seated inferiority complex entrenched at the root of his behavior.

What you can’t abide by is him sneaking off to go out on his own. You’ve made the rookie mistake of sneaking in a short, afternoon nap, only to wake and find him nowhere within your shared domicile. You’re his body-guard. How are you supposed to guard his body if he doesn’t tell you that he’s going out for a run?

Watery sunlight filters in through the half-opened blinds. It’s cloudy, today. A pressure weighs heavy in the air, the kind that rolls in before a nasty storm. You’re half-resolved to go out looking for him, even though you know he can well handle himself. Fortunately, he strolls in through the front door before you have to make that call.

He’s in a t-shirt and shorts that don’t even reach his mid-thigh. They’re too tight for him, fabric hugging his ass, his hips. You let your gaze roll up the length of his calves and thighs, skin covered by a thin sheen of sweat. A bead of it rolls down the side of his face, caresses the sharp angle of his cheekbone.

“You didn’t tell me you were goin’ for a run,” you grouse at him. He bends down to undo the laces on his white sneakers, and your fingers clench tight into fists. Long, smooth legs. Shiny with perspiration from the run, glimmering underneath that dull sunlight. He leaves his shoes against the wall all neat-like, and then turns to lock the front door. He takes his sweet time in answering you, makes sure you know your concerns are hardly worth his time. Brat.

“You were asleep,” he says. His voice is airy with faux innocence. “I’m not a child. I’ve told you countless times that I do not need an escort—I am an adult—a doctor, mind you, and I can very well take care of myself. The fact that I fended off my assailant on my own should be proof enough of that.”

“I know all that—you’ve been telling me since the day we met. But think of it from my point of view. If anything happens to you while we’re here, anything at all, it’s my head on the line! There’re IPC goons crawling all over this town. What if one of them sees you, without me, thinks I’ve been slacking, and reports me to the higher ups?” you tilt your head to the side. Once again, you’re reminded of how few friends Veritas Ratio has likely ever had—how wanting to educate the universe’s populace doesn’t necessarily equate to his ability to see another person’s perspective. He’s arrogant, yes, but he isn’t devious. He wouldn’t hope to get you in trouble.

“I…” he says, and then swallows. The conflict plays out across his face. As subtle as it is, you can see it in the way his jaw tightens and his lips purse together. It takes only a few seconds before he’s pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Very well. I… apologize. I failed to see it from your point of view. We may have our… disagreements, but I wouldn’t want to see you harmed.”

“Disagreements? What’re you talking about?” you say, flatly. “I agree with almost everything you say, all the time.”

Another pause. “Yes, you do.” He sounds pained. He runs a hand through his wind-tousled hair as he approaches the table, where a water bottle sits next to a blue and white vase. “About that, you should make more of an effort to form your own opinions, even if I happen to not agree with them.”

“Oh?” you grab his wrist. “Really? You’re the kinda guy who likes being listened to though, aren’t ya?”

“You make me sound like some sort of tyrant,” Veritas scoffs. “Having a social circle populated by individuals with diverse opinions is healthier than being surrounded by mere yes-men,” he says, spitting the word out with no small amount of venom. “That’s how the Genius Society has declined so steeply in the last few decades, only approving those who fit a very specific set of standards. It’s a recipe for stagnation, I tell you, and the blind worship paid to them—”

You half-listen to him. He winds himself up with no prodding from you at all, expression warped with displeasure at the mere thought of his intellectual rivals. You lean over and draw his sweaty hand to your mouth, kissing the back of it. He cuts himself into a series of surprised, and indignant splutters.

“Whatever you say, beautiful,” you coo, swiping your tongue over the back of his wrist. The tang of sweat-borne salt nearly makes you shudder.

He draws his hand back to his side like he’s been stung, and you release him with a coy smile. He cradles it to his chest, pale cheeks flushed with color. And he gets stuck like that, for a few seconds, completely jarred. For all the whining you’ve heard about his temper and supposed long-windedness, all it really takes to strike the mighty doctor silent is a few, choice actions.

“You are a menace,” he glowers, and stomps towards the stairs. The steps groan underneath his weight. You admire the plump curve of his ass, the flex of his thighs with each angry step.

Evening turns and tosses into deep night. The house is swaddled in deep shadow. You think about the taste as you stare up at the ceiling, remember the way his ears had turned pink in the pale grey light.

A pulse of thunder groans in the distance.

#hungering for hsr #dr ratio/reader #dr ratio x reader #series dogged pursuit

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citrineandrosmarin · 3 days ago

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🦉Athena Masterpost: Offerings🦉

🐍 Masterpost Link 🐍

Last updated: Date of Publishing

A mix of UPG, SPG and Historical associations, please share your own in the comments or let me know if you share a UPG!

Gemstones & Metals:

H: Gold, Bronze, Silver, Iron

SPG: Lapis Lazuli, Onyx, Iolite

UPG: Rainbow Fluorite, Sodalite, Obsidian, Smoky Quartz, Kyanite, Bronzite, Tiger’s Eye (Any color), Tiger Iron, Blue Aventurine, Blue Calcite, Red Jasper, Flame Jasper, Lepidolite, Moonstones, Zoisite

Plants:

H: Olive, Ivy, Thyme

SPG: Rosemary, Cypress, Peppermint, Orange

UPG: Oak, Pine, Oregano, Peppers, Basil, Marigold, Dandelion, Yarrow, Geranium, Tiger Lily, Mint, Rose, Hellebore, Bay Laurel

Incense and Fragrances:

H: Frankincense, Thyme, Bay Laurel, Amber, Myrrh, Dragon’s Blood

SPG: Orange/Orange Blossom/Blood Orange, Citrus, Cedarwood, Cinnamon, Cypress, Bergamot & Sage

UPG: Pine, Musk, Oakmoss & Amber, Clove, Nutmeg, Pomegranate, French Vanilla, Sandalwood, Mint, Patchouli, Mint, The incenses “Pagan Spell,” “Celestial Bliss,” and “Tree of Life”

Food & Drink:

H: Olives and Olive Oil, Honey, Milk, Cheese, Cereal Grains, Diluted Wine, Bread, Baked Goods, Fish, Meat, Fruit (e.g. pomegranates, grapes, raspberries, pears)

SPG: Water, Fruit juice

UPG: Mint Icecream or tea, Rooibos (Redbush) Tea, Black Tea, Chocolate, Apple Cider, Coffee

Items & Miscellaneous (Almost all SPG and UPG):

Historical:

Miniature votive shields, helmets, swords, spears, or arrowheads, Pottery, Hymns, Poems, Jewelry, Animal figurines, Glass beads, Libation bowls, Terracotta figurines, Statues, Coins

SPG and UPG:

Music playlist, Mood boards, Perfumes, Candles, Books, Acorns, Bay leaves, Snake skin, Animal figurines, Owl feathers, Gull feathers, Horse Hair, Any helmet, spear, shield or sword imagery, Gorgoneions, Depictions of her favorite heroes.

Trophies, Medals, Diplomas, Good grades, Essays or other academic writing you’ve written, Study Tools, Graduation Caps

Any kind of handmade craft, Craft tools, Pottery, Yarn, Knitting or crochet needles, Polymer clay sculptures, Art, Origami, Wool

Devotional Acts (All SPG and UPG):

Using olive oil, Reading her myths, Donating to charity or doing some volunteering, Learning Ancient Greek, Learning about the history and culture of Ancient Greece

Playing strategy or puzzle games, Playing Escape Rooms, Any exercise that combines logic and creativity, World-building, Using your skills and learning new ones, taking classes to learn a skill.

Developing your intellect, Reading non-fiction, Doing research, Learning to think critically, Studying, Tutoring, Learning to code or any computer skills, Reading up on current science, Watching TEDtalks, Listening to educational podcasts or videos.

Doing any kind of hands-on craft like knitting, crochet, sculpting, etc. or learning a new crafty skill.

Exercise, Learning/Practicing self-defense or a martial art

Donating to charities for military veterans, Donating to those suffering from war, Learning about the Geneva Conventions, Staying educated on current wars and past wars

Being politically aware/active, Activism, Playing colony sims e.g. Civilization series, Getting involved in your community.

#athena masterpost #athena #athena deity #athena devotion #helpol #hellenic polytheism #hellenic pagan #athena offerings #athena devotionals

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the-garbanzo-annex-jr · 5 months ago

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by Kylie Ora Lobell

Now, Klompas has come out with a book, “Stand-Up Nation: Israeli Resilience in the Wake of Disaster” (Wicked Son), which is a unique approach to Israel activism. Rather than sharing news about the war, this book highlights Israel’s altruism towards the world.

“Today, Israel is nicknamed the ‘Start-Up Nation,’ and it is celebrated for its booming economy and ingenious innovations,” she wrote in the book. “Less celebrated is the story of how Israel lifted up other nations as it lifted up itself — the story of Israel, a force for good in the world.”

“Today, Israel is nicknamed the ‘Start-Up Nation,’ and it is celebrated for its booming economy and ingenious innovations. Less celebrated is the story of how Israel lifted up other nations as it lifted up itself — the story of Israel, a force for good in the world.”

Klompas’ book outlines MASHAV’s work, such as when they built the first utility-scale solar field in East Africa, spearheaded clean water initiatives in Israel, Jordan, the West Bank and Gaza and provided meals to starving children in India.

“For a while, Israel became a global leader in supporting newly independent states. Precisely because it was small and poor, Israel had an advantage over larger, richer, and more established countries,” Klompas wrote. “It was a model and source of inspiration for newly emerging nations facing their own array of challenges.”

She saw this with her own eyes. After finishing up at the UN, she founded and led Project Inspire, an initiative to show Israel’s work in social, environmental and economic development in low-income nations. She ran tours in Uganda, Kenya, Guatemala, India and Nepal, showing participants how people in these countries utilize Israel’s teachings and technologies to tackle poverty and inequality.

When Klompas traveled, she saw Israel in “the most unlikely of places,” she wrote. “While trekking in East Africa and walking through a small craft market, I spotted a handmade beaded bracelet with the flag of Israel alongside bracelets with the flags of Kenya, Tanzania, and Uganda. In the remote hills of Nepal, I happened upon a group of children, and as I passed by they yelled to me: ‘Shalom! Namaste! Hello!’ In Uganda, I visited a remote island on Lake Victoria. Getting there required a windy bus ride, followed by a rickety boat ride, followed by another bumpy bus ride. When we finally reached Osanidde Village, an orphanage for children with HIV, we were greeted by teenagers who sang the Ugandan national anthem followed by ‘Hatikva.’”

“Stand-Up Nation” is a callback to what Israel really is, and what a massive impact the small Jewish State has had on the world – a much-needed reminder post-Oct. 7, when it is being bashed everywhere we look. Klompas believes that enough isn’t being done to communicate Israel’s nation-building initiatives.

“I think I’m the first one to write a book about it, if not one of the first,” she said. “I’m not sure that people who have been to Israel dozens of times are even familiar with MASHAV. How many people know this story about Israel as a developing country and founding an international development agency at the same time? It’s an untold story. And the more that I learn about it, the more it shocks me that people don’t know it.”

#aviva klompas #stand up nation #israel #jewish state #hamas #gaza #israeli resiliance

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magnetothemagnificent · 2 years ago

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Sorry if this is an inappropriate or rude question, you don’t have to answer.

I’ve been dealing with internalised negative feelings about religion, due to being raised by very Christian family, when I’ve never believed what they said. It made me think that religion is an awful thing, a cult by sorts.

A few years back, I made a friend who is Jewish and he’s really cool and I respect him a lot. I also am trying my hardest to respect that he is religious but I can’t help that voice in my head, saying he’s corrupted. I don’t think I believe it anymore but I kind of want to ask, a reassurance I guess, what your views are in religion as a whole? Why do you believe it’s good?

First of all, it is not marginalized people's jobs to prove to why they deserve humanity. If you had asked any other Jew this question, they would have every right to ignore this quesiton and/or call you out on it.

However, I do put myself out there and try to educate people, so I'll answer your question.

Religion is part of human culture and history. For as long as humans have been humans, we've always had symbolic representation, taboos, and imagination. Paleolithic humans burying their dead with body paint and bead ornamentation- that's an example of spiritual belief. To be human is to be illogical, superstitious, and imaginative. Even other animals can sometimes act according to superstition or seemingly illogical motives. Humans are incredibley intelligent, and with our intelligence comes questions we cannot answer and fears we cannot explain. Where are we from? What is death? Where are we going? What is our purpose? These are all answers we seek, and having a religious belief set can help answer these questions. Religion is just a world view in the same way Western science is a world view, and they're not incompatible with each other. Many scientists are religious, I myself am a student of science and am religious.

Religion has brought people together for all of human history- it allows the sharing of ideas and resources. Harvest festivals, weddings, coming-of-age ceremonies, funerals, all these religious events serve to reinforce the bonds in a community. A relationship must be maintained and reinforced, or it becomes stagnant. Having a shared spiritual belief system and coming together for ceremonies reignites communal bonds. Religion also allows for a community to have a shared moral system. While religion isn't necessary for morality, it definately helps define the values and morals of a person and community. If a community can come together and agree on a system of values, then there's less potential for violence due to incompatible values. Religion is a social contract. Religion is also a comfort, and can help with the immense wait of loneliness we face. If the trees and water have spirits, then you are not alone. If your loved one goes to an afterlife after death, then they are not alone.

Religion has as much potential for harm as any world view. Just as there have been countless atrocities committed in the name of religion, so too have there been countless atrocities committted in the name of science. Does that mean we should just toss out all of science? No. In the same way we shouldn't get rid of religion.

Additionally, "Religion" isn't a monolith. It's not one world view, but a category of world views. There are many forms of religion and each religion is different. Monotheism, polytheism, animism, ancestor veneration, etc- these are all different kinds of religion that can overlap with eachother too. A bad experience with one religion doesn't define all religions. With all due respect, your experience is anecdotal, and you can't apply your singular lived experience to every since religion in the world.

And for Jews, our religious identity is deeply important to us. We've been persecuted for thousands of years for our identities, and we've miraculously not disappeared from the face of the earth. You don't have to understand why your friend is religious, but you need to unpack why you think he's corrupted and why you think you have the right to apply your experience with religion to every religious person. The fact that you were raised Christian might be another contributing factor to your bias towards your friend- antisemitism is often deeply ingrained in aspects of Christianity.

#religion #anthropology #culture #human history #human behaviour #animal behavior #superstition #human condition #cultural anthropology #antisemitism

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dirtytransmasc · 2 years ago

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Do you have any HC Ronal just mothering spider

I love the idea of ronal seeing this boy who just wants to fit in, want to never stop learning, who strives to be the best he can, and feeding into that as a love language, and also helping him feel like he doesn't have to be like that to be deserving of love and family. aka, most of these are about her becoming almost like a mentor in a way, like a parent mentors their children, but making teaching very personal.

she takes spider out on her Ilu everyday, showing him something new, something important to her. it's personal to them, a time he gets to be held by his mother, spoken to in a soft but wise way he has always imagine a mother would one day speak to him. its a time she gets to hold her new baby, a baby she wishes she had gotten to bond with more in his life, no matter how logically impossible that wish is.

she may have lost her spirit sister, but she makes bringing him to see the tulkun a priority. sign lessons too, working it into everyday life just so he can become fluent. connecting him to his siblings is important to her.

she makes sure he feels included during family meals, sleep piles, going to the family bathing pool, etc. she makes sure he doesn't feel like he's just tagging along, but that he is meant to be there.

she worries about him physically; she knows his human body was never meant for this world, nor half of his normal activities. she pays special attention to his hands and feet, how scarred and calloused they are. she clicks her teeth at his thin frame (even if he's lean with muscle, he's still just so tiny to her, she worries) and the shiny skin on his nose, cheeks, and shoulders (sun damage). she makes a ritual of applying balms and ointmants, treating his hands and feet with oils, feeding him filling meals each and every night.

ronal makes sure to use terms of familial possession and terms of enderment for him. she doesn't use his name often, she typical calls him "yawne" (beloved), "maitan" (my son), or "yawntutsyìp" (darling/little loved one) [keep in mind, these came from the learnnavi site, and I don't know if these are accurate to the metkyina people or their dialect]

nags and disciplines him like any other mother would nag and discipline their children, the boy craves structure, normalcy, motherly love (even in the form of tough love).

I personally hc that ronal isn't the touchiest person, in terms of like hugs and like full body touch, but she's a hand on the shoulder type mom. she's always touching her kids in her own way. she's always has a hand on him, on his back/shoulder, in his hair, holding his arm. he always knows she's there.

speaking of hair, she definitely helps manage that (I think after neteyam he hacks it all of during his mourning period). she makes sure it doesn't dry out and tangle from the salt water, styles it in the traditional metkyina way (with a little help/education from mac and norm, his hair is style more appropriately for his hairtype, cause man have they been waiting for a chance to do that).

she knows that he wants to help, to be of use, but he can't be a hunter due to his body; so she teaches him how to cook and craft, to use the land (cause he has to relearn a lot of stuff in this new territory). she finds he really likes making jewelry and helping cook (both are very communal activities, its done in tight groups, he likes that). she definitely sticks back with him, spending more time doing that over hunting unlike before.

she has multiple beads on her song chord for him; when she first adopted him, the first time he met the tulkun, the first time he called her mom, etc.

#might do a part 2 eventually #cause I can't think of anymore at the moment #but I can feel my brain forming more #anyway #she's such a good mom #she just wants him to feel loved and happy #spider socorro #miles spider socorro #miles socorro #avatar spider #spider avatar #avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2009 #ronal #tonowari #spider tonowari'itan #hi'i'tsyil te fkew'weopx tonowari'itan

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rederiswrites · 3 months ago

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The problem with owning property, buildings, and even animals roughly equivalent to a medieval estate--except, you know, minus the many workers who would normally do the work on said estate--is that no matter how long the list of my accomplishments for the day, the list of shit I didn't do will always be longer. I've managed quite a productive day considering I couldn't sleep last night and didn't get up till noon. In the last six hours I've done three loads of laundry, put away two, cleaned and vacuumed the master bedroom and kitchen, scheduled a mammogram, ordered prints of family photos, hauled water to twelve shrubs, cleaned the litter boxes, taken out the compost, and watched educational videos and discussed math lessons with my son, among other things. On the other hand, now the annealing furnace is hot, so it's time to make beads. But it's also the last half hour or so of light I have outside to plant bulbs in and time to make dinner, my knee has just gone out in some mysterious way that will probably resolve itself if I don't stress it, and I've only just remembered that I poured vinegar into the hall toilet two hours ago, but haven't yet scrubbed and flushed it.

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jpriest85-blog · 7 months ago

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Put together a collage of my Werewolf MC Hala from @barbwritesstuff Bloodmoon and decided to include some additional info and hedcanons about her.

Name: Hala bint Badr

Pronouns:she/her

Height: 5ft.5”/165.1cms

Appearance: An average height Arab woman with a tan complexion, dark brown curly hair, hazel eyes, aquiline nose and medium build. Hala is often seen wearing layered clothes, homemade jewelry, and a headscarf or hijab, usually in red.

Wolf form: Resembles an Arabian wolf with dark, brown fur, that’s darker on her back and tail tip, and lighter beige on her stomach, ears and muzzle. Hala is smaller than her packmates, with larger ears, and a shorter thinner coat.

Conviction: Be Kind

LI: Marco

Alpha: Aliksander, deceased. Hala, current.

Misc. Info & Headcanons

Hala’s name means halo around the moon in Arabic, and her surname means daughter of the full moon.

Her mother’s name was Sama which means sky in Arabic.

Sama’s pack originally came from a desert climate but like most werewolf packs they had to move to safer territories in other countries.

Hala’s mother never saw the ocean in person until her late teens, and she learned to swim from Jay during their brief romance. Sama later taught Hala how to swim as a way to pass on something from Jay to their daughter, other than his eye color.

Hala has a caffeine dependency but prefers tea. After moving to the city Ed introduced her to boba tea and she got hooked.

Hala prefers not to drink alcohol due to disliking the taste. As a result Hala and Farro usually wind up as designated drivers whenever their packs meet up.

Hala is prone to getting cold easily even in her wolf form. So she often dresses in layers and/or will cuddle with pack members for warmth.

Hala and her mom used to spend a lot of time in public libraries when they used to travel. They had free textbooks and resources to help with Hala’s education, and the nicer ones even offered free classes or activities for people.

Hala learned to make jewelry at one of those libraries and even used to sell the things she made with her mom. After joining the pack Ed helps Hala sell her jewelry online, but she still gives out jewelry for friends and loved ones for free as gifts. As a result every member of the pack owns at least one piece of jewelry or customized accessories made by Hala.

Hala also does little arts and crafts projects with the kids when she is on babysitting duty. This instantly made Hala Izzy’s favorite person when Hala made her a tiara from an old wire hanger, some beads, and glitter.

As far as Hala’s own jewelry preferences go she tends to wear clip-on earrings, usually made of copper or nickel.

Hala’s mother used to own some gold bracelets from the old country that were originally going to be passed down to Hala as a bridal gift if she found a mate. After their pack died though Sama wound up pawning the gold bracelets to support herself and Hala.

Back when Hala was still a stray she used to go out in deep water to swim on nights when there is the full moon, that way she was less likely to hurt someone late at night in the middle of the ocean or lake. Worst case scenario she might swim too far from the shore, wind up exhausting herself and drown. Hala figured that was a better risk than giving into the moon and killing someone, the Alpha and Minjo however did not agree. They were both very distressed at how casually Hala explained that she first wound up in their pack’s territory because she got lost looking for a body of water deep enough to potentially drown herself.

Hala still keeps her mother’s seashell necklace and wears it constantly. Jay made the necklace for Sama as a gift after their first date taking her on his bike to the coastline.

Hala learned how to apply jacket patches from Addie and Elma.

Hala’s favorite jacket is a denim and fleece jacket that used to belong to Marco. He gave it to her shortly after she first joined the pack when he noticed she’s more sensitive to the cold, and told her to keep it because she looked cuter wearing it. She started developing a crush on Marco after that and added rose patches to the sleeves so she could always be reminded of Marco when she wears it.

While Hala didn’t become as close with Vicky as she did with Ed. She always respected and admired Vicky. Sure they don’t alway agree on things but Hala understands that sometimes you have to make the hard decisions, especially since Vicky had to become another parent for Ed growing up when she was still a kid herself. After becoming the Alpha Hala knows she can trust Vicky explicitly to keep the pack safe, but she’s also trying to make Vicky understand she can also depend on Hala and the others to help protect and look after her too.

After becoming the Alpha Hala takes different jobs and learns new skills to help the pack and their new home. She starts working at a craft store so the pack gets discounts on everything from school suplies to fabrics. She becomes a certified notary to help the pack when they need to verify important documents and paperwork. She even undergoes training in her wolf form to become a registered therapy dog.

Likewise Hala tries to encourage and support her pack members with whatever they need. Like helping take care of Minjo’s kids if she eventually decides to complete her training to become an official registered nurse.

#bloodmoon if #oc collage #werewolf mc hala #oc info

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j1ho · 6 months ago

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( park bogum. twenty eight. non binary. he+they ) LEE JI HO has been spotted around the neighborhood, i think they’re a waiter at infierno. i heard from a friend of a friend that they’re cordial, diligent & sharp-tonged, stubborn. it’s no wonder they’ve made it this far in the city, they’ve been here for all of their life! now that i get a good look at them they kinda’ remind me of talk by beabadoobee.

≡ BASICS .

full name : lee ji - ho , 이지호

nicknames : jj

gender & pronouns : non binary & he+they

sexuality : bisexual

age : twenty₈

nationality : korean - american

ethnicity : korean

current location : manhattan , new york

living conditions : typical to any eligible bachelor in new york, jj lives in a disheveled studio apartment with just about anything spread across any surface. delayed bills, old recipes, vintage trading cards, and crumpled newspapers. his plants are overdue for a watering and the fridge is stacked with leftovers. the only organized area in their apartment is their room, with everything in its designated place --- clothes hung categorically, by their designated occasions. aside from being dedicated to his work & never having time to sort the place, his cat doesn’t make things any easier by wandering around the place while they're at work !

≡ BACKGROUND .

current occupation : taught chess to kids when 18-22, currently a waiter!

dream occupation : as a child he has always enjoyed making his own meals and would often dream about owning their own restaurant, a dream that carries on inside him. his love language is making people food <3

past occupations : has worked as a bartender, a busboy, and much more.

social class : working class

in debt? : no...

educational achievements : graduated with a phd in mathematics & accepted into law school, but shortly dropped out.

family : father ( alive, lee kiyoung ), mother ( deceased, jung nabi ), & older brother.

pets : a brown tabby cat named mimi, but he does take care of a lot of strays.

prized possession : a family portrait of when he and his brother were younger, a jade bead bracelet his mother used to wear, recipes his mother used to make, & a box of unused herbs his grandmother has gifted him.

≡ PHYSICAL .

height : 1.82 m

eye color : dark brown

hair color : dark brown nearing black

physical strength : surprisingly above average

speed : a little above average thanks to having to walk everywhere

intelligence : above average

agility : average

stamina : average

ailments : asthma, imposter's syndrome.

distinguishing marks : has lots of scars from childhood and cooking accidents, wears contacts, usually misses a wrinkle or two when ironing his clothes, constantly wearing his mother’s bracelet.

character inspirations : lee harker ( longlegs ), baek yijin ( 25 21 ), choi han kyul ( coffee prince ), kid ( monkeyman ).

≡ PSYCHOLOGY .

MBTI : infj

enneagram : type iv

≡ STORY .

triggers : parental death, implied abuse.

you were quite the handful growing up, always climbing up those trees your mother would beg you to avoid. always getting stuck and requiring your older brother to come get you or worse … the same old group of firefighters who gave you that scolding look. in school, you make friends quite easily and whether it was because you were such a social butterfly or the intimidation behind your surname, you weren’t too sure. as a child though, you never understood the gravity of things like that. money and name, that all seemed so trivial.

the more you grew, the more you took after your mother. your eyes, the pout of your mouth, and your insatiable love for cooking. your most cherished memories are in the kitchen, with your mom, face powdered with flour. imagining as though you see inside a michelin starred restaurant, hurrying to produce the most lavish meals. sneaking chocolate chips into your mouth when your mom wasn’t looking. feeding biscuits to the dog when your father wasn’t around. and thankfully, during your formative years, he was never around.

one of the last things you remember your mother telling you, nearly pleading, was to follow your heart. [ she’d grown sicker and sicker over the years, a well-kept family secret, up until the end. she dies shortly after your high school graduation. ] you’ve grown older and you understand things like money and the weight your name holds. you don’t want to be a disappointment, an embarrassment. always the creative, doe-eyed child, part of you had wanted to follow in your brother’s footsteps. so cool and collected, very business chic—practically manufactured for the corporate world. [ another part of you, still so wary and fearsome, wants to make your father proud. just once, you want to make him crack a smile. ] so, instead of using your mathematical expertise to measure flour and herbs, you use it for something more … practical, as your father had called it. it was between that or law and you didn’t have the icy quality for that world.

though you have time & time again expressed your intellect through academics, you feel as though something just isn’t breaking through to you. mathematics, theory, and science all come so easy. it’s too rigid and limiting, you realize. a part of you, a very integral part of you, is being locked away. there aren’t risks in this world to be taken, everything is very cleanly cut and sharply outlined. obtain that certificate, congratulations, and now, spend the rest of your days by a cold desk, tie hanging around your neck, and own that miserable, office job. no, that isn’t the kind of world you want to live in.

there is no worse dread that fills you knowing how easily someone ( such a figure in your life ) will toss you aside. how easily your own blood will discard you. your father immediately cuts you off at the mention of culinary school—at the idea of dropping out of law school [ which you had only gone to for him, you had been living your whole life to be like them! to live up to that oh-so glorious LEE name ]. the door hits you on the way out, straight whack! into your forehead. living in new york, with four roommates, and routinely chowing down on takeout is a stark contrast to the very comfortable, expensive life you’d been used to. but, you remember what your mother had said and how life is just too short to have your dreams stay as just dreams. if anything, you live because of her.

thankfully, your amiability and socialization do you some good in adulthood. you hear, from a friend of a friend’s friend, about this little, very 'low key' [ or so they had said ] nightclub which seems to be all the hubbub for the nepotistic, snobby socialites you once pranced around with. it’s absolutely perfect in all its glory. in a way, it’s as though you’re getting your revenge ; after rounds of interviews & some serious consideration, you’ve landed yourself a job at the joint.

≡ HEADCANONS .

been there about six ( coming onto seven ) years, still no promotion ! and has seen so many people come and go … both employees and clients alike.

think of that one employee who everyone knows. like everyone, even the person you think has to have been there the longest knows them. they’ve seen some shit, they know all the tips and tricks. they’re tired. they’re a veteran, why are they getting in a yelling match with the sous chef ?

if you’ve seen kitchen nightmares, you know those servers/waiters who are basically the backbone and the glue keeping everyone together from losing their shit? i am going to tell you right now he’s that person. god forbid if gordon ramsay ever comes to infierno jiho airing their shit out without a doubt.

despite being tired af after a long night’s shift, when he goes home, there’s nothing more thrilling than trying out a new recipe or some kind of food someone may have even mentioned to him.

if ur on a smoke break with him he’s either that coworker who doesn’t want to fw anyone or asks you the most out of pocket question like “if you had a daughter would you let them date x? yea that’s what i thought”

actually very kind and caring of people he works with even if he’s getting head to head with someone. they’ll probably settle it over drinks after work or go back to normal in two minutes.

that one fucker who don’t play about spade !!!

huge mamas boy with crazy daddy issues ( hello .. zuko here ) and crazy hopeless romantic ):

#ehq.intro #oh brother this guy stinks #sorry this is so long u guys i usually write no intro at all or an entire novel <3

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waltwhitmansbeard · 2 years ago

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💕 Some platonic kisses, perhaps?

Send me emoji(s) and I'll write a drabble

It has been months since they survived the brutal encounter in the Astral Sea together, but Essek still can't help but pick around the edges of the Mighty Nein, slinking through their shadows like a feral cat. It isn't as if he doesn't trust them—they are unhinged, to be sure, each a live wire in their own way—but rather that he can never expect them to trust him, not after all he's done.

And yet. Yasha asks him to bring flowers whenever he and Caleb visit Zadash, loves to see the various blooms that grow in the part of Exandria she has yet to visit.

And yet. After he mentions to Caleb that he would love to spend more time in the garden with him, if not for the painful sunlight streaming down, on his next visit, he finds him and Fjord hard at work on a covered porch, magic forgotten in favor of hammers and nails and beaded sweat.

And yet. Veth asks for his help designing the curriculum for her strange summer camp, peppers him with questions about spellbooks and components and safety procedures and even ethical limitations, as if he were the subject matter expert in such things, as if his thoughts were worthy of swaying the course of these campers' arcane education.

And yet. Essek tries to keep out of the way as Jester bounces her way through a tour of the tiny shack beneath the water tower, showing off her many pieces of art and talking a mile a minute about the classes she's been offering, but when it turns out he's standing just in front of her most recent piece, she rocks up onto her toes to kiss his cheek and nudge him gently out of the way. He doesn't even hear what she says next, his fingers coming to touch the spot where her lips had so briefly brushed, a moment of tenderness he would once have thought the height of folly. He tells Jester that the painting is beautiful, because it is, because it brings a smile to her face, because somehow, this hectic group of fuck-ups and freaks have opened their doors, have let this feral cat wander in and make a home of them.

#ask #tiamat-zx #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #mighty nein #mighty nein fic #essek thelyss #my fic

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pandorafallz · 11 months ago

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Vampire AU | Chapter 29

The surgery felt far longer than it actually was, Jake had realised, as he obeyed the words of both Surgeon and Tsahìk in the operation. At one point, due to inexperience, Harper almost woke up once but Ashely was able to get her back under quickly for them to resume.

It was a success, in the end. With one concussion as well.

Zeke’s poor timing in walking into the theatre had given him the view of internal things he didn’t need to see and had keeled straight back almost comically. They had left him on the floor given there wasn’t a nurse to drag him away once Ruby was sure he hadn’t cracked his skull in and shoved an ice pack under his head.

Once Harper’s side was stitched up Mo’at did take over to apply her medical balms to aid the healing process; it worked far more efficiently so while there would be a scar, it wouldn’t be too noticeable once it was fully healed up.

Jake was glad to deglove and wheel himself out by the time Eliza called it for unnecessary hands to leave. Getting back into his old clothes was a massive relief and he happily wheeled around the trodden-down grass to flex his arms and back more from the ache of his position in the afternoon sun.

N’deh was gone, as was Neytiri, but Mo’at’s Pa’li that they had used was still about and licking at a new pitcher-pod flower. With the uneven terrain under his wheels, he couldn’t do much exploration to see if he was far or close. So, all he could do was wait; Mo’at could return him back to camp if need be. Seze was gone as well so Jake had to assume N’deh had gone with his niece to Hometree to report to Eytukan or Neytiri had just left on her own to do that.

“I can’t believe you guys just left me on the floor?” Zeke’s voice was a soft whine before the masked figure was guided out by Zane who gently sat the guy onto a near the lab’s wooden ramp on a partial log. The Ice-pack held in place by the mask straps still.

“We made sure you weren’t at risk of brain injury but there was some prioritising the woman cut open on our operation bed over a guy on the floor with a concussion,” Zane said, patting the guy’s shoulder.

“Wow, I feel so loved.” The concussed guy said with a roll of his eye. “I just didn’t expect there to be a lot of blood.”

Jake snorted a little, his eyes following Zane for a moment as the guy headed off without a word and disappeared around the Rolab’s side. “What did you think we were doing?”

“I may be a scientist with PhDs in Bioengineering and Xenobotany but I am not used to blood on a day-to-day basis.” Zeke said, “Unless I’ve cut myself shaving.” He ran his hand over his clean-shaven face.

“Bioengineering?” Jake cocked his head curiously, “What does that entail?” He could picture something but he couldn’t imagine that skill being overly useful on Pandora. At least Xenobotany was another fall-back.

Zeke went to open his mouth but Mo’at huge form was swift leaving the airlock and stretching out at her full height and pulling off the tiny, modified apron off her front that looked more like a dentist’s dib on her. She pulled her kuru back to her front and without another word hurried to the river.

Both Jake and Zeke watched for a moment as the Tsahìk dipped in and out rather quickly and squeezed out the water from her hair but looked to try to rub the water into her skin. It wasn’t often she was disgruntled but that was certainly the expression on her face.

“All good?” Jake couldn’t help but ask as she returned.

“That spray smells. I don’t smell like… myself.” Mo’at complained but she was relieved to slip her beaded shawl back over her shoulder from the folded pile she had left on a nearby rock. “It’ll take days to leave me.”

“Ah.” He could understand that very easily Na’vi had a more sensitive nose and could follow scent trails; sterilizing spray would certainly going to throw her off and no doubt Eytukan as well too. It was unnatural. “But how was your first real major operation?”

“Educational. ElizaDrennek is… very stern in her practice but efficient.” Mo’at crouched down to be at their level, running her fingers through her hair. “I believe I will need new tools to be of practical use if such an occurrence happens again.”

“Yeah, the appendix is a tricky thing. More common in children or young adults but can happen into adulthood.” Zeke said, lifting his shirt to show there was…only a small scar that his finger traced. “I had mine out when I was seven. Didn’t rupture but it sucked. Fortunately, Germany’s medical system is better than America's.”

“Oh, you German?” Or did he visit when it occurred?

“Ja, on my father’s side.” It was very jarring that Zeke’s American accent shifted entirely away as he spoke, going full-on German. “Mostly raised in Amerika but I’d spend every summer at my vater’s hometown and trying not to get a wedgie from kids who thought I was ‘too Amerikanisch.” He added the last bit with viable quotes with his fingers. His accent vanished on his next sentence, “Aside from that, I loved it.”

“Damn, you’ve learned to pick up the American accent wonderfully. I would never have guessed.”

Zeke grinned, “You got any foreign blood in you, Sully?”

“I heard my great-grandfather was Canadian?”

“Canada doesn’t count. Outside of America, Canada and Delaware.”

“Delaware’s a state.”

“No one cares about Delaware, Jake.”

Jake snorted but craned his mind back to the depth of…what he knew of his family. Tommy had been the one to know off the top of his head. In all honestly, he was a typical American now so… he didn’t reflect any non-American blood now. However, his grandmother… now that he thought about it

“Australian? My grandmother? I think?”

Zeke hummed for a moment in consideration. “I’ll take that.”

There was a momentary lapse in conversation before Jake remembered the Tsahìk’s existence and he turned back to her. “Right, sorry got onto a tangent there.” He said to her, “It happens a lot.”

“I’ve noticed,” Mo’at responded with a little dry but looking a lot more herself now and more relaxed as she ran her fingers through her hair and made sure there wasn’t anything human lingering in it. “But, I do have to ask the purpose of the Appendix. Na’vi does not have such an organ ourselves.”

“Oh, the appendix is used to help the body produce cells to help fight infection,” Zeke said then he grinned a bit. “I do enjoy the irony of it; an organ designed to help infection of the one causing it.”

Mo’at’s lip did twitch at that, “I see. I’ll return to home tree soon. I will need to get new tools crafted or in the making before the sun is down. Some with smaller ends. Our size differences are not kind. I didn’t realise how frustrating it truly was. Thank you for being my hands, Jakesully.”

Jake nodded his welcome. In all honestly, his medical training was not….surgical training so he really did rely on the words of those professionally trained to guide him through Harper’s guts. Thankfully, the fact he was getting used to butchering was the only reason he wasn’t queasy about looking at blood and guts. Zeke must not have a strong stomach.

“It’ll take a few weeks for her to fully heal. I want to pop down tomorrow and check-in,” Jake said, “Probably in my avatar.” If he could convince Neytiri to allow him the morning off.

“As will I. I’m confident in Eliza’s ability to care for her patient but I know the medicinal herbs far better than her for now to promote better healing. I will need to teach her for when I am absent.” Mo’at rose to her feet, clicking her tongue that called the Pa’li to her.

“Oh, do you think you could drop me off back at camp? I don’t have a ride back since…N’deh and Neytiri aren’t here.” He couldn’t hear them or anything so… he wasn’t sure if he could sit and wait about it. Sure, he could relink with his avatar to see if they were at camp but he just wanted to go home, at this point. He was sure Nadine had company return once they heard and were waiting on news. No point over the radio when he could talk to his camp directly.

“Of course.”

“<Uncle, be patient>” Neytiri said as the man in question aggressively picked apart seeds from fibres from his earlier collection but she could see his tail was lashing high still. “<My father will need time to fully decide.>”

Apparently, from a suggestion from Kim this morning, N’deh had the idea and desire to get a new Ikran and had firmly latched onto the notion. Neytiri had been there when he had asked after they had informed him of what medically happened at one of the human’s camps but her father was very blunt on the matter and dismissed him back to camp. Neytiri had opted to return him herself and she had been stuck with him fuming for hours so, she had opted to help him continue to process his gathering in the meantime. Letting him stew alone on his feelings was not wise. Her mother would not be happy that she didn’t do anything to tend to hurt or tender feelings. Unbecoming of a tsakarem.

“” N’deh said hotly. “I have done nothing wrong to be rebuked.”

Neytiri sighed deeply but she knew the reasons of why, to a degree and while she couldn’t go past her father about it, she knew she had to soothe her uncle's nerves. This was a…complex choice and her father had clearly weighed the risk of the Rookery too great of crossing paths with… Graceaugustine. Her father had ordered her not to make contact unless she could help it and she knew better than to disobey. Her uncle could not know of where she was, even if she desired to lift that burden for him. It was not her place. She had to think of the clan first.

“<Perhaps he thinks the Rookery is…too close to the Tree of Souls?>” Neytiri scrambled for an excuse and was glad to find one swiftly. The rookery was in the mountains and often shifted around between the floating mountains and it seemed close that it was possible to be in the range of the sacred sites. It wasn’t uncommon but… it would be a plausible excuse to use that wasn’t a lie either. She was comfortable enough with that. “<You are not allowed there>”

N’deh let out a frustrated sigh. “<The only other rookery close is… further north close to the Tawkami clan. It’s on their territory.>”

Neytiri’s head cocked to the side. “<You have visited their clan before.>”

“<Yes,>” N’deh paused in his work, “<, Unlike the Ikran at the floating mountains here, there will be little way in fighting to the death. Their Ikran do not see Na’vi as prey but have other methods for proving a bond.>” N’deh’s mood tapered off a little in consideration. “”

Neytiri’s brow pulled in confusion. “<You do not choose each other? No fight or challenge.>”

“<Each rookery has different behaviours depending on Na’vi exposure the young Ikran have. It’s frequented a lot by the Tawkami when they harvest the flowers up there; some plants grow exclusively in the rookery that would not go elsewhere in their territory. With that much exposure over generations of Na’vi, they feel no concern over Na’vi but they still hear Eywa’s calls for when a Na’vi is there to be chosen to be a rider. A few are like that, like the Aranahe clan’s rookery but again, a portion is much like ours given that there is significant distance between the People>” N’deh explained with warmth in his voice. “<It was something I was taught when I stayed with them for a little while after my initial banishment. A few women were fond of Txon'ong’s colouring and wondered about our story.>”

Neytiri nodded but she couldn’t help but feel a little fascinated. There wasn’t much news recently from clan-to-clan and not many travellers that came to Hometree but she knew it would be important to learn from each clan still. It was…remarkable that the Ikran taming was so different. She had believed that they were all the same.

“”

Her uncle seemed to light up with pride at the mention of the Dreamwalker. A distant reminder to Neytiri that… she vaguely remembered Kimgreene had been close to getting her own Ikran before their banishment. Neytiri had seen the woman hunt and could see she was fully trained. Had to be and certainly her uncle had trained her well in what areas they hadn’t gotten to after they were gone from the Omatikaya. A robbed rite, but... she wasn’t suitable just yet. One child was risky enough but two in her womb? No.

“<Let’s not be too hasty, Uncle.>” Neytiri reminded, “<She is a few months until she is due to birth. I don’t think it’s wise. Perhaps after her children have their first breaths but before....” She trailed off a little, her tail lashing. “<As docile and as calm as those Ikran are, they are still wild animals before they’re tamed by a bond>”

N’deh let out a reluctant huff at her wisdom. “<I know. She has desired one for years. I want her to feel the same joy as I first did when I took my first flight. To feel the wind and the…senseless freedom. I want her to have that joy as well. She had worked so hard for it.>”

Neytiri reached for her uncle’s shoulder warmly. “<One day, N’deh but… after her children breathe our air and rest happy upon their parent’s chest.>”

N’deh remained quiet for a moment. “<I’ll consider the Tawkami’s rookery. It’s… the most viable option unless your mother can convince Eytukan to allow me passage to the Mountains.>”

That thankfully pacified his mood enough for him to relax into his work, his fingers picking out seeds and separating them far faster than hers but she didn’t try to go quickly.

The time continued to turn, long enough that Jeromeepstein made his appearance back to the camp with concerns and having heard of Harper’s sudden health turn but they were still waiting on news. Nadinereza had also been busy; anxiety reorganising the storage supplies by the sounds of it and the occasional burst of profanity when she dropped something.

Morgan made an appearance, this time with an overly large skull in his hands with his carving tool kit but…the skull itself was very unfamiliar. It looked very close to a Nangtang but…it wasn’t. A carnivore for sure.

“<What animal is that skull from?>” Neytiri asked, leaving her uncle’s side to crouch beside as the human seemed to settle down with his tools.

Morgan looked up, “Oh, this is... a vekreng. Humans call them Cloaked Panthers. It’s an old skull from the bone carvers got from some Zeswa traders that passed through years back. I asked if I could have it and they agreed. I think I’ll probably settle fully into bone carving. I’ve worked in most of the areas Hometree has but… bones seem more interesting and…I still got a shit ton I need to put to use. Might as well invest.”

Neytiri smiled a little. “You have found a calling?”

Morgan paused for a moment then nodded. “Hopefully. Took almost two months but…yeah? That and sling-training.”

“May I?” She held her hands out for the skull. Morgan handed it over after a second and she gently turned it in her hands to…see more in-depth of the creature’s face. The natural pathways into the skull for its dual kuru along the tops of its head, the eye sockets as well that were strong and the sharp teeth that were still set into its top jaw. “An impressive animal.” She could see its strength with how thick the bone was and how sharp the teeth were.

“Indeed.” Morgan agreed, taking it back from her. “I want to make this into something stunning. Maybe some sort of mask or perhaps a deceptive piece for my shack.”

“A mask? This is bigger than your own head.” Neytiri pointed out softly, “It may not fit.”

Morgan shrugged, “Maybe a mask for Jerome or Jake? Or N’deh if he’s curious.” He tossed a look down to the weaver who didn’t seem to be paying them any attention. “Like, I get they hunt but I was thinking…what happens if they run into an RDA patrol? Dreamwalkers will get recognised so… why not have them dress up for a bit? Maybe splash in some body paint?”

“The Sky people won’t be that foolish to be that deep into our land.”

Morgan let out a dry laugh. “You say that like they’re not already carving a path to your home or hunting us down.”

Neytiri’s eyes narrowed but… he did have a point there. Sky people often would push their boundaries and small groups could be missed in their patrols. Perhaps caution must have some consideration. Still, Jerome and Kim had been out for years and hadn’t been recognised. Jake as well for months.

“Well, I think Jerome can slap on some paint to cover his eyebrows or see if he’ll shave them off. The RDA think his Dreamwalker is also dead so they won’t initially recognise him…or Kim for that matter. They both wear Na’vi clothes anyway.” Morgan continued, “I’ll scan a 3D scan of this and do some mock-ups on my tablet.”

With that and otherwise still pleased, Morgan headed away towards his mauri-shack with a wave. Of course, the silence didn’t last long and the human disappeared off into his shack as the airlock hissed shut after him. Neytiri’s attention turned as she heard steps through the tree, her ears perking in the relief of seeing her mother upon a pa’li. Sitting in front, holding his chair with all the might of his arms was Jake who seemed to relax visibly to be back.

“Neytiri!” he noted, waving at her with a beaming smile that…made her heart flutter with warmth at his cheerfulness.

Neytiri smiled in relief; no look of worry or concern which meant everything had gone well. Neytiri took his wheelchair from him and opened it then set it onto the grass. Taking him softly from the Pa’li but placed him on the ground for him to get into his chair; why he didn’t allow her to sit him into the seat, she didn’t know but he was stubborn enough to argue her attempt.

Nadine abandoned her organising, coming straight over loudly and Jerome seemed to come out of his mauri with an armband he was crafting.

“Jake!” Nadine came over and hugged his head. “Did you faint?”

“No. Although Zeke did get a concussion.”

“How? He wasn’t the one being operated on!” Jerome laughed a little. “Let me guess, he keeled back like his soul left his body?”

“Pretty much. The guy does not like blood, it seems.”

“All was well, it seems?” Neytiri asked, her eyes flickering between him and up her mother. Although her nose wrinkled at the… strong alien smell that seemed to linger on her mother’s skin. Sharp and…chemically. Unlike the sweet sap and herbs smell she was familiar with.

“Yes, Harper is recovering well. I will visit often to ensure she’s healing well. It will be some time before she can return to Hometree. Eliza will also be absent for some time as well.” Mo’at spoke calmly. “But I must return. I need a wash with a stronger scrub.”

Neytiri chuckled a little, bidding farewell with the familiar gesture then followed Jake as he pushed his wheels over the uneven terrain. Her body itched to lean down and help push but she suspected that wouldn’t be welcomed gesture. He might get offended given how stubborn he was about doing it himself so, she restrained.

“Stay here, Let me have a snack quick and then link back up.” Jake said, pushing his wheels faster towards the shack, “Then I can tell you all about it.”

Neytiri hung back but at her uncle’s gesture towards the mats, she sat down. Nadine also sat down and Jerome although neither of them touched the fibres and Jerome simply carried on with his armband. It didn’t take more than a few minutes before Jake descended down

“Is Kimgreene not back yet? Morgan?” Jake asked, his eyes scanning about as he crouched down

“Morgan’s in his shack, I think he’s cool getting an update later. He’s got some plans with a cranium.” Nadine said, “Also, Kim’s still at Kung’s camp. When the message got to her, you lot were well into the surgery so she figured it was all handled. She did ask to make sure.”

“I suppose. Plus, she may not have been able to help much given her size. Mo’at did struggle. I had to be her hands for the event given she couldn’t work a human-sized scalpel.” Jake said, “But the surgery went smoothly, barring Zeke fainting. It…could have gone better but none of us are trained like a surgical team. We relied heavily on Eliza’s orders to make sure it was smooth going. I do think…maybe we need some of us to train with Eliza to cover the areas needed if this happens again. I’ll bring that up at Hometree tomorrow. Today was fortunate but we can’t rely on luck.”

Neytiri found herself nodding, “Why is it that…you smell? My mother too, for that matter? It’s a horrible stench.”

“Oh, Eliza had everyone involved sprayed down with a sterilisation spray. Your mother was no exception. Humans can be susceptible to infections brought in on a normal basis. On Earth, anyone operating on another human must undergo the same procedures to ensure minimal risk. Since we’re on Pandora, an alien world, our bodies will be more likely to get an infection given our bodies don’t know how to fight alien germs.” Jake explained, “Everyone was masked up, sterilised, and covered so Harper was at minimal risk. As she heals, that’ll tell us if we’re successful.”

“I hope that…smell goes. It’s not pleasant.”

“Me too, but needs must.”

Needs must indeed.

Neytiri found herself not opening up the rest of the day for intense training; the headspace for Jake was…not one she knew would be ready to partake given the natural emotional exhaustion that would come from aiding the life of a friend so directly. Instead, she helped around his camp, keeping him speaking in Na’vi and particularly; to recite the prayer for hunting as they went.

“<…and your body stays to be the people>,” Jake said slowly as they cleaned up the hand-made bullets that had been since scattered in their earlier training when he had been showing her the sling weapon.

“<Your body stays behind to become part of the people>” Neytiri corrected, adding one of the cracked bullets to her growing collection. “Close.”

Jake wrinkled his nose. “Not close enough.”

“<you’re doing very well, Jake.” She said, “You’ve picked this up far quicker than I expected.”

“I’m still too slow. I feel like…I’m still too passive. I need to do more.”

“You’re a skilled bead maker and you’re learning the weaving patterns very well. I have noticed that you show promise of a leader with the humans that are here.” Neytiri gave him a soft look, “You need to See yourself. You’re a hunter at heart but you’re also of two bodies.” She grasped his shoulder. “You are enough. You are doing well for being bound between worlds.”

Jake’s yellow eyes were like pools of golden honey, deep and rolling with emotion but there was the lingering uncertainty that floated within them. She wanted nothing more than to remove his doubt but she hoped he’d reflect on her words later.

“Tomorrow, we will…work on your bow and arrow. You’re posture when actively hunting needs work. On the Pa’li and crouched. We can spend all day working on it if you want?”

“I…I want to visit Harper in the morning; check in on her.” Jake said, “It’d be good…to see her when I’m not elbow-deep in her intestines and covered in blood.”

Neytiri’s nose wrinkled but she agreed to the adjustment. That didn’t sound pleasant but… a new memory to go over was better than reflecting on that grotty aspect of aiding her. “The area of land that they’re in is a good area for hunting. It’s open to a large river and it can attract many animals for you to track. Fresher. Your ability to track through scent needs more work but we can work on that too.”

Jake nodded, looking more determined. “When will Ashely get her Ikran?”

“Two weeks by Tsu’tey’s estimates,” Neytiri said, a little surprised really that Tsu’tey would think so soon but she had seen the woman hunt and train; she knew her Dreamwalker body well and had since developed it. It was a warrior body. She hadn’t seen much, if of anything of Ashelysloan’s human body but she hoped to see her soon. If she had healed up fully.

Jake looked surprised. “Wow.”

“She’s had much longer inside her Dreamwalker, its age is much older than yours and lived life into it. Tsu’tey did take over my teaching with her so I could up for work with you.” Neytiri said.

“I’m just…amazed. Jealous but… at least she’s making real good progress.”

“Once she’s passed Iknimaya, she will be able to participate in hunts with the people. As she is not Omatikaya, my parents are…still deciding on whether this means you’re considered a fully-fledged adult in our culture or not. You cannot have Uniltaron, the second rite that would make you one of the Omatikaya.” Which was…unfortunate. “They’re still uncertain on how to accept sky people into their traditions.”

Jake let out an unsurprised huff. “Na’vi as a whole never will. We gotta make the best of it, even with Uturu.” He offered a tight smile but took her little basket of sling whistle bullets from her. “Let’s not dwell on that now. Let’s focus on something else.”

The Na’vi stepped through the base with a determined pathway. Familiar now having helped construct Refuge’s new home to make it fully airtight and suitable for earth-atmosphere so no one had to sleep in masks when there was another leak.

Excitement hung in the air as well as anticipated and they were almost set to go but… Teylan had not shown up. So she decided to find him first. There were little known places Teylan would be and she had passed most on her way to see there was only one viable place. She slipped through the large airlock before the doors opened at the end of the lab.

To no surprise, Teylan was there.

“…and today, the others are going to visit the Aranahe clan. I think you would be quite proud of them.” His voice echoed.

Kìoetey watched as he was kneeling next to the grow-tank. Alma’s Na’vi self was almost asleep inside. Nude and life sustained through the umbilical cord, the thumping beats of her heart going through the monitors that kept her vitals in check; keeping her alive inside.

It had thrown her off the first time she had seen her teacher like this. Never seen her with her hair down and out of that braided bun, or asleep… or…vulnerable like this. Her body twitching as if she was an unborn baby within the womb. A few instances when she was sucking on her thumb out of basic reflexes. But she had gotten used to it now but.. it seemed Teylan had taken great comfort in coming here often. The most familiar person he knew from the RDA was in the tube.

Kìoetey understood but she knew he had to concentrate his energy on those who would speak and interact back. Alma couldn’t hear him, as much as he liked to think otherwise.

“Teylan,” Her voice echoed, coming around to his side, “We need to do.”

Teylan’s ears drooped. “Must I?”

“Alex says that it would be good for us all to go and make a good impression with the Aranahe. It’s well into the morning. We shouldn’t leave it too late.” Kìoetey said softly.

“I…I don’t want to go. I’m sorry but...it’s just too much pressure. I like it here. Plus, who will keep Alma company here? I can help when they need to sort something out with this tech. Alex showed me how it works.”

“Alma will still be here when we get back tonight.”

Teylan spared a look to the avatar. “But… she’s so alone in there. I know she can’t talk back but I’m sure she’s listening. I don’t want her to get lonely.”

Kìoetey sighed heavily. “If everything…does go well with the Aranahe, can you…at least try and visit next time?”

Teylan paused for a moment. “Well, I suppose if the Aranahe do like you, I can visit but...only for a little bit. I do not like it outside that much. It’s so dangerous.”

Which was the best she was going to get from him, she supposed. “Okay.” She grasped his shoulder warmly. “I will speak to you later. I have a radio on me as well Ri’nela and Yefti but the others will not. The Aranahe may not like them so we’ll use them for emergencies.”

Teylan nodded, his hand coming to touch his new radio. “Okay.”

Kìoetey left him to it and returned outside where Nor was waiting with the others. Raj had kitted them all out in Na’vi clothing. Some burying shades of grey from reusing old clothing but Na’vi enough she hoped would be acceptable. Ri’nela of course had gone all out and had added decoration back into her hair. As many as possible.

Okni had also added some decoration to hers but since it was shorter, she hadn’t had as much. Telisi’s hair was still growing out from her scalp since Mercer had had it shaved as punishment for disobeying him in their last training session. The only hair on her head was the braid protecting her kuru. Alma had epic timing in bursting and grabbing the electric sheers before the guy could take that hair too. She had apparently broken his wrist in the process which had brought some joy in Nor and Telisi to hear. The next day, Alma had led them out of TAP in secret when her SecOps mutiny occurred.

It was all a rush after that but everyone was still finding themselves and Kìoetey hoped the Aranahe clan would be the first step now that they were out. To be with real Na’vi. For the first time since…they were babies and toddlers.

They barely looked the part and she could see the anxiety on the other’s faces. Especially Yuayt’s face.

“Teylan won’t go but he’s agreed to visit if everything goes well,” Kìoetey said as she reached her group. “Now, we all have our bows? Arrows? Knives? We have to walk to the Hometree but we don’t know what sort of animals we may come across on our journey. Don’t shoot first and see. We can read the body language.” She reminded, eyeing the latter half of their group like Okni and Telisi.

“Let’s go. We’ve waited long enough.” Nor said impatiently, “I’ve got a quick route in mind. Let’s go.”

With that, they headed out.

“Good luck!” Priya’s voice echoed from the airlock.

The journey through the foliage was long. Though the terrain was unfamiliar to most, Kìoetey had learned enough in her time out to steer a few other's way from dangerous plants. Like those puff pods that Okni thought were like balloons up until she told her that they exploded if touched.

Kìoetey liked to think it was Eywa watching over them by the time the canopy broke to show the top of the massive Hometree in the distance, spurring them one before they found a trodden path to follow and so they charted it with confidence.

The closer they got, and as the tree was looming above, Kìoetey’s heart sang in her chest with nerves but she held onto the truth that this must be done for them to have any part of their people. For their future.

“<Is that…>”

“<No, that clan is long gone.>” The voices were hushed, distant in Na’vi but Kìoetey’s attention turned to two hunters that looked to be in their path and have stopped. “<This must be something else.>”

“<The mark is clear. Kat’nat will want to know.>” The second hunter hissed to the first, her eyes sharp as she took them in. “<If you do not, I will help. They all look lost.>”

The first looked unappeased but after a moment he nodded. “<Fine, I’ll go ahead and inform Kat’nat. You take them.>” He said then turned tail and began to jog away.

The female hunter rolled her eyes at her hunting partner’s antics but turned back to the group. Kìoetey stepped forward, hoping to look less intimidating. “<hello. I am Kìoetey. We…wish to go to your Hometree to relearn more of Na’vi ways.”

The hunter’s eyes dipped down to their attire, clearly sensing something based on their appearance. Hopefully to verify her words. “Your reasons will be heard by our clan’s leader. Kat’nat. I will suggest you put your bows away. Predators will not be this close to Hometree. Our Hometree scouts may not like them to be easily drawn before they know why you’re here.” She was sharp in her tone but gestured the seven of them onwards.

Perhaps reluctant but not passive to let them go on their own, Kìoetey was still relieved that…a guide was better than none and the trip to the tree was shorter too.

As expected by the hunter at least, an Ikran swooped as they neared the main entryway with a very young man, perhaps a teenager with a raised bow. Nor tensed right up with a hiss at the aggression. Ri’nela grasped his arm to temper his reactions before he got them shot.

“<Calm, Neyan.>” The woman said.

“<What is this, mother? You bring strangers to our home?”

Thankfully, the question did not need an immediate answer. The first hunter they saw seemed to return, with three others in two. One male who Kìoetey assumed was the clan leader, but two women; one dressed in bright yellow and seemed to be about her mid to late forties with a bounce to her posture, the second woman as more stern, sharp-eyed and had complimentary colours to the clan leader.

“<Sarentu.>” The woman spoke, moving past her mate towards them. Kieotey held her gaze, allowing her to properly look at their shared mark. “<It had been a long time since we last saw your people here. You’ve been gone a long time.>” She was light in her remarks, her hand coming to her jaw but not touching.

“<Sarentu?>” Kìoetey couldn’t help the question, “<No one has ever called us that.>”

The Tsahìk’s ears tilted in a sense of alarm but her eyes were narrow, taking in her outfit and the others more closely “<Where have you been for all this time?>”

“<The Sky people. They took us when we were little and told us our clan abandoned us. We knew better. We escaped recently with sky people who did not like their ways.>” Kìoetey spoke, “<But… we know little of our own people and what happened to them. You and your people are the first Na’vi we have seen since we were stolen.>”

The woman in yellow shooed the teen warrior into putting the bow away. “<Put that away. There is no need for hostilities. Can you not see they are frightened?>” She reprimanded, moving past the teen and towards Okni first who immediately shied away. “<Do not fear him, young one. His bark is bigger than his bite.>”

The clan leader moved as they spoke, taking each of their faces. “<We knew the Sarentu. Yet none wore these…sky people scraps. Have your spirits been moulded by the sky people or do you remember the ways of your clan?>”

“<Some things I remember, not a lot. My mother’s smile.>” Kìoetey said, her tone coloured with some warmth. “”

“<Ma Mate, it is clear they need guidance and they are here for it. To have Sarentu return to us is a wonderful gift and in such numbers.>” The Tsahìk spoke, “<Aranahe and Sarentu have always had a good relation, let us not judge them upon their start in life and restart them back into our way of life>”

“<And get them into far better and colourful clothes at the very least. They’d frighten the hide off an Angtsìk.>” The woman in yellow spoke, her eyes looking in mild disgust at their clothes. Telisi’s arms came over her front. “”

Kat’nat eyed them for longer and then nodded softly. “<As you wish, Nefika. They will need time to settle and many hands to guide. I trust you to direct them.>”

“” The Tsahìk said, “<Come. Hometree will welcome you and you can rest your burdens with us. We can celebrate the return of Sarentu.>”

Priya sighed deeply but gladly accepted the box Anqa handed straight to her and headed directly into the bathroom, taking a full second to secure the door, shut the lid over the makeshift toilet and set the box into the sink with a huff. The mirror was barely fixed onto the wall but it was functional as she stared at her reflection for a long moment, tilting her head to the slight shadows from under her eyes.

Not good.

They needed more protein; more than what the RDA rations they had stolen had so far. This box’s shortcut wasn’t going to last forever and certainly not when it was shared between the three of them.

She opened it up, took the little pot and filled it with some water first then added the treatments into it; watching the water turn a soft pink before she set the denture glue onto the side before she reached up to her mouth. Sharpening fingernails sunk under the faux teeth but it took force to push each of the five teeth covers out and let them drop each one into the chemicals to clean before she’d eventually put them back in fresh.

The eight from her lower jaw soon joined the rest before she fumbled with her pills, the red pill barely in her hand a second before she swallowed it down and then sighed, taking a second to bare her inherited Vampiric teeth in the mirror. Blunter than a first-generation Dhampyr but… still too sharp for a human. One day they wouldn’t need to cover them.

Just not today.

No one needed to know after all.

Masterlist

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