#but also the space for healing within his story | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

naeverse · 4 months

Text

Tangled in his Webs

Art generated by: Niji • Journey Request from: @migueloharacumslut Ask: And I have a request I forgot rather I submitted or not. Mad scientist Miguel x therapist reader Miguel gets put in a psych ward because he got caught experimenting on people and himself trying to turned them in to spider people. He’s been in the psych ward for five years and he needs to be cleared to go back in the world. That’s where the reader comes in to clear him only he manipulates her into thinking he is sane. During their session Miguel becomes obsessed with the reader and little does he know she is obsessed with him too. At night she touched herself to the thought of him. When Miguel get out he finds her. Make the sex nastyyy, hard and rough little choking wouldn’t hurt either. Please and thank you ! 😊 A/N: I really loved this idea and enjoyed writing Scientist Miguel so much. Might write him more lol, but thank you @migueloharacumslut for the idea. Also this is the first part and a second one will be following this one, hope you enjoy!

💉staring: Scientist!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Therapist Reader

🩵preview: “I imagine I must seem like a puzzle that’s meant to be solved by you, don’t I, dear?” He asked, his gaze never letting up and keeping its intensity. Due to his closeness, you almost missed his inquiry, but upon detecting it, it surprised you. Hastily, you shook your head, dismissing his ideology and rejecting his notion. “N-No, I wouldn’t exactly describe you in that way, Dr. O’Hara.” You swiftly replied.

“You wouldn’t?” He asked, his voice low and slow. “So, how would you describe me, Doctor?”

🔬summary: As an evaluation therapist at Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing, you are assigned a new patient—one who is complex, captivating, and dangerously drawing you in more than you ever expected.

⚗️tw/cw (Just for this part): Big Dick Miguel, Bondage, Fingering, Masturbation, Psychopathy, Restraints, Sadism, Size Difference, Restraints

🔭Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Querida (Dear)

🩵Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🥼Word Count: 7.7k

**This fanfiction is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real-life individuals or events is purely coincidental. It does not intend to diagnose or represent any real mental health conditions. Thank you for understanding, and I hope you enjoy the story.**

Your eyes fluttered open, consciousness slowly returning. You felt a dull ache and soreness in your throat, accompanied by a pervasive feeling of weakness throughout your body. Blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights overhead and adjusting to the suffocating sterile scent of antiseptic, you noticed that you were lying on your back against a hard, cold surface.

With furrowed eyebrows, you attempted to sit up, only to be thwarted back by the metal restraints tightly bound around your wrists and ankles.

‘What the heck!?’

You thought, panic and fear beginning to grip you. Your eyes darted down to discover yourself clad only in your undergarments—a delicate white, laced satin set—leaving you exposed to the chilling breeze that consistently swept through the well-lit space.

You couldn't remember how you got here; your groggy mind unable to piece together the events that led to your presence upon the metal table. The faint hum of machinery echoed from far away, punctuated by distant murmurs that made your heart drop.

With dazed eyes, you looked around your surroundings to be met with the overbearing shade of a bright white that covered the walls of what looked to be a lab of some sorts. Countertops were lined with an array of perfectly arranged scientific instruments, machines, and beakers.

Shelves held neatly labeled containers, each housing an assortment of chemicals and biological specimens. Despite being well-lit, there were little to no windows present, intensifying the feeling of isolation within the controlled environment.

The place seemed devoid of humanity, replaced by a location where experimentation and analysis were handled freely without compassion or warmth.

But one thing about the lab really stood out to you: two jars sitting upon the shelves—one full of bloody red eyes and the other with abnormally sharp canines.

The sight almost made you vomit, hastily turning to look away. Your heart and breath were picking up, fear clawing at your being. Although how morbid the otherworldly body parts were, they triggered something in your head.

The more you thought upon it, awareness seeped in like an unwelcome guest; slowly, you began to remember.

The mental facility...

Red eyes...

The flowers...

Sharp canines...

Black glasses...

His release...

Him.

The wine...

Then darkness...

The memories came rushing back so quickly that you weren’t able to keep up, until it all came back to...

Him...

A wave of regret and stupidity overwhelmed you. Never in your life had you felt so worthless.

You should have known...

You should have fucking known...

‘He wasn’t well. He wasn’t fine. You were wrong, so wrong-’

“Good… You are awake.”

The bone-chilling voice of your captor filled the room, sending a familiar chill down your back. With trembling lips, you turned your head to see the backside of a massive male entering the room. His coffee-brown locks styled neatly upon his head, a white lab coat adorning his huge build along with black dress pants and oxfords.

The scientist wore clean attire, perfect for working in the lab, but his outfit was beyond your concern.

You knew who he was, but you didn’t want to believe it.

You gulped, watching him slap on a pair of white latex gloves upon his large, calloused palms before beginning to inspect the scientific tools that sat upon the nearby counter.

"And here I thought you would have been excited to see me again..." he said in a husky voice, responding to your silence—his Latino accent unmistakable, along with a hint of amusement found in his tone. You felt like an idiot for falling for him, for becoming so fascinated with a madman like him...

But you were still in denial.

You weren’t going to believe it was him until you saw his face...

“T-T-Turn around…” You said hoarsely, the pain in your throat distant underneath the layers of fear and anxiety coursing through your body. At your demand, the large scientist laughed. “Turn around?” He asked slowly, silence following his inquiry, making your body run cold.

Suddenly, he spun around, slamming his palms onto the metal table you laid upon. The abruptness and loud noise made you jump, and a gasp erupted from your lips. His eyes stared directly into yours, holding the same madness that you believed he had cured when you initially met him. But, like before, it wasn’t the insanity in his gaze that made your heart drop to the pit of your stomach...

It was his eyes...

His teeth...

The scientist’s crimson eyes looked down at you, taking in your discolored skin and half-lidded eyes that were still under a drowsy spell. “I turned around now, are you happy?” He asked with a playful smirk. “Do you recognize me now, dear?”

Your eyes widened, the look upon your face enough to show the mad scientist that you did, in fact, remember who he was— but you were too speechless to respond, causing the male to chuckle.

“Do I need to give you any more proof that it is I?”

His snickering seemed to reverberate off the walls of your mind as the fluorescent lights of his lab bounced off his razor sharp canines.

With trembling lips and dilated pupils, you looked over his face, your heart breaking more and more because…

It was, indeed, him...

The mad scientist...

The sexy patient...

Dr. Miguel O’Hara…

The man you fell for…

White, close-toed wedges clicked upon the mental facility's aged linoleum tiles, the floor's once-bright patterns now a faded, discolored mosaic covered with scuff marks and indistinct stains that revealed the struggles of all who shuffled through the dimly lit corridor. The mental facility, unintentionally, gave off an eerie atmosphere with walls clad in faded, peeling paint and ceilings with bright, flickering fluorescent lights that cast irregular shadows along the cold institutional floor, further giving anyone who traversed the halls the creeps.

You, a therapist meant to evaluate patients for release, were given a new challenge—a patient that held a sadistic background coupled with a remarkable intellect that made many wonders how he found himself inside 'Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing.'

Dr. Miguel O’Hara was your new patient's name, an intelligent scientist who became a little twisted after his discovery of gene splicing. In his pursuit of advancing the human race, he became obsessed with the idea and creation of spider-human hybrids. After many experimentations of creating what is referred to as mutates, he was unsuccessful. Before he could continue with his study, he was arrested and sentenced to seven years here at the institution where it seems he’d made progress.

Whilst you walked towards his cell, taking the seemingly endless halls of the asylum, you looked over his file. Inside were documents containing his personal information, such as full name, date of birth, emergency contact, and next of kin. In the brown folder were also his medical history, psychiatric assessment, diagnostic evaluations, and much more information collected during his time at the institution; however, there were four pieces of his folder that piqued your interest:

Observation logs, Treatment plan, Risk assessment, and lastly, incident reports.

You studied each of the documents to discover the important details that needed to be surveyed before seeing the scientist in person.

_____________________________________

Miguel O’Hara - Mental Health File

Patient Information:

Full name: Miguel O’Hara

Date of Birth: 10/13/2070

Appointed into: Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing

Admission Date: 11/10/2099

Emergency Contact: N/A

Next Of Kin: N/A

**The patient has explicitly communicated a desire for their next of kin not to be associated with their mental health treatment, and no detailed information about family members was recorded to respect the patient’s privacy.**

Diagnosis:

Primary Diagnosis: Psychopathy

Secondary Diagnosis: Antisocial Personality Disorder

Treatment Team:

Primary Therapist: Dr. Jessica Owens, Licensed Clinical Psychologist

Psychiatrist: Dr. Peter B. Parker, MD

Nursing Staff: Nurse Mary Jane Watson, RN

_____________________________________

Treatment Plan:

Medications

Fluoxetine (Prozac)

Dosage: 20 mg daily

Purpose: Miguel O’Hara is prescribed Fluoxetine to address symptoms of irritability that derives from his disorder of Antisocial Personality.

Lorazepam (Ativan)

Dosage: 0.5 mg as needed (PRN) for anxiety

Purpose: Miguel O’Hara is given Lorazepam on an as-needed basis to manage anxiety-related symptoms or impulsivity.

**Its used closely monitored due to the risk of misuse**

Lamotrigine (Lamictal)

Dosage: Gradual titration starting at 25 mg, with adjustments based on response.

Purpose: Miguel O’Hara’s treatment plan included Lamotrigine to help stabilize mood swings or emotional dysregulation.

_____________________________________

Incident reports

Date: 2/3/2100

Incident: Verbal altercation with another patient during group therapy

Action Taken: Immediate de-escalation and one-on-one session with Dr. Peter B. Parker.

Date: 6/21/2100

Incident: Refusal to take prescribed medication

Action Taken: Nursing staff provided additional support and education

Date: 10/3/2100

Incident: Refused to attend scheduled group therapy and became verbally aggressive towards staff members

Action Taken: Security staff was called to ensure the safety of other patients and staff. Miguel was later engaged in a one-on-one session to explore the reasons behind his resistance to group participation.

Date: 1/4/2101

Incident: 2nd occurence of refusal to take prescribed medication

Action Taken: Nursing staff provided additional support and education and therapeutic engagement by Dr. Jessica Owens to address any fears or misconceptions related to his prescribed medications.

Date: 4/18/2101

Incident: Observed by Nurse Mary Jane Watson of the patient hoarding various items in his room, including non-permissible objects.

Action taken: Staff conducted a room check, confiscated unauthorized items, and discussed appropriate belongings with Miguel. A follow-up session with his therapist, Dr. Jessica Owens was scheduled to explore any underlying concern.

Date: 3/21/2102

Incident: Engaged in a physical altercation with another patient during a recreational activity

Action taken: Immediate intervention by staff to separate the individuals involved. Both parties were assessed for injuries, and a report was filed. Increased monitoring and a review of Miguel’s treatment plan were conducted to address potential triggers for aggressive behavior

_____________________________________

Risk Assessments:

Current Risk level: Moderate

Factors: History of aggression, resistance to treatment, potential for manipulative behavior

Interventions: Increased monitoring, ongoing assessment for potential triggers

_____________________________________

Observation Logs:

Date/Time: 8/16/2102, 2:30 PM

Observation: Miguel exhibited signs of increased irritability during the group mindfulness session. Requested to leave the session prematurely.

Staff comments: Noted Miguel’s discomfort during mindfulness exercises. Alternative relaxation techniques were explored for future sessions.

Date/Time: 12/2/2103, 10:00 AM

Observation: Miguel was observed engaging in a one-on-one conversation with staff during morning indoor activities. Discussed personal interests and aspirations.

Staff comments: Encouraged Miguel’s open communication. Noted his ability to articulate personal interest, fostering a sense of connection with staff.

Date/Time: 2/15/2104, 6:45 PM

Observations: Spends most of his time in the facility’s library, engrossed in reading.

Staff Comments: Positive use of leisure time observed. Reading contributed to a sense of routine and engagement.

Date/Time: 6/23/2104, 8:30 PM

Observations: Attended the evening group therapy, contributing to discussions on coping strategies. Demonstrated empathy towards a fellow patient sharing personal challenges.

Staff Comments: Noted Miguel’s willingness to engage in group discussions and support peers. Positive progress in developing empathy and interpersonal skills.

**Miguel O’Hara has exhibited excellent improvement and staff believes he can be released in 2105, instead of 2107.**

_____________________________________

You closed his folder, taking a look at the photo that decorated the front. Like many patients at Nueva York’s Sanctuary for Mental Healing (NYS-MH), Miguel O’Hara didn’t look like a dangerous individual; he was actually quite handsome—with dark, wavy locks that framed his olive, chiseled face and amber eyes shielded by a pair of black eyeglasses; Dr. O’Hara wasn’t a bad-looking guy.

To ponder upon the atrocities, he could have committed for the sake of science was baffling as you gazed at the photo. The more you inspected the image, the happier you became at the fact he was doing better - better enough to be released back into society.

It was why you were here, anyway…

You tucked the folder under your arm and continued your walk towards his room, passing steel doors that lined the corridor, each secured with heavy bolts and reinforced locks to keep the patients contained and prevent them from harming themselves or others. Occasionally, muffled echoes of distant cries and disjointed whispers seeped through the cracks, adding to the unsettling symphony of the troubled minds that dwelled within.

You've walked these halls many times, but there was something about today that really made your skin crawl. So, it was relieving when you finally found Miguel O’Hara’s room, number 209.

Two guards stood on either side of his door, present only for emergencies. With a deep breath and slight adjustments to the white top, black blazer, and bodycon skirt that covered you, you gave each of them a nod and unlocked his door with a key, entering Miguel’s room…

Upon stepping inside, you instantly took notice of the soft, muted tones of blues and greens dominating the color palette, bringing a sense of serenity to the room. The patient's sleeping area contained the normal necessities—a comfortable bed with crisp, clean linens and a modest seating area. The furniture was arranged in an open and uncluttered manner, with personal touches here and there by the patient himself or for safety precautions.

For his adoration for reading and science, a small shelf was placed inside his room, displaying a few books and a potted plant, offering familiarity to the scientist.

Your eyes shifted to the large, muscular male who sat upon his bed, dressed in a white t-shirt, gray sweatpants, and slip-on shoes. His massive backside faced you as it seemed he was engrossed in writing, his huge hand moving gracefully upon the page he was working on.

You cast a glance at the camera positioned in the corner of the ceiling in his room, placed there for monitoring and to ensure the patient, and others remain safe. After making sure the camera blinks red twice, showing its activity, you approach him with light steps.

"Miguel O’Hara?" you called out to him in a soft voice, not wishing to disrupt him. All of his movements came to a halt, his body rigid as his large hand placed the pen he was using into the open journal before slowly closing it. You watched him set the book down beside him on the bed, wondering if the handsome male you saw on the photo would be the same seated before you.

It seemed you were watching with batted breath for him to turn around and when he did, the sight of him shocked you and made your heart skip a beat.

You knew from his photo, the male would be gorgeous—so attractive that if he weren't your patient, you'd probably gush over him from afar. But it wasn't his attractiveness that made your breath hitch.

He looked completely different.

He looked…

Otherworldly.

With a cold expression, you stared back at a pair of crimson eyes covered with black eyeglasses, a small smile spreading across his tanned lips, revealing a set of sharp canines. “You must be the therapist that is to evaluate me. Right, Querida?” He inquired with a hum, his deep voice holding a Latino accent.

You gulped at the intensity of his abnormal scarlet orbs, subconsciously clenching his brown folder in your hands and giving him a nod. “Y-Yes, I am,” you replied, stepping back to give the large male room to stand, and when he did…

He was like a giant…

The bed creaked at his ascent as his massive being towered over you, your head tilting up to maintain eye contact. Choking back how intimidated you were, you gestured over to the small seating area of two white cushioned chairs and a table in the corner of his room. “L-Let’s sit over here to talk,” you proposed, and for a moment, he just stood there, gazing down at you like a mere ant before his tight-lipped smile returned.

With an approving grunt, he stepped in front of you; with his powerful, long legs, it took him little to no time to reach the comfort area and settle down into the white chair, the seat creaking under his heavy weight. You followed behind him, moving to sit across from your new patient and shifting into a comfortable position.

When your eyes met the male's, his crimson eyes were already staring at you, lingering upon your body in a way that made you feel like a microbe under a telescope. You gave him a polite smile, shaking off the unsettling feeling that always rose within you when speaking with the patients. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Dr. Miguel O’Hara. My name is Dr. Y/LN, and as you’ve been informed, I am the therapist here to evaluate you for your release.” You explained sweetly, watching every part of the patient, who remained completely motionless, simply continuing to stare back at you with an expression devoid of all emotion.

“It’s nice to see a new face, doctor. It can get rather boring here,” he uttered, using his middle finger to push his black eyeglasses up the bridge of his broad nose.

You placed his folder down upon the table, turning it to not reveal his photo on the front; you've learned from past experiences that the sight tended to worry them. Bringing your legs to cross over each other, you clasped your hands, placing them on your lap. “Boring?” you asked with furrowed brows. “Why don’t we speak about your time here first, Dr. O’Hara? Is that okay with you?” The inquiry left your lips in a soothing tone, one that calmed most patients upon hearing it; but with this patient, you couldn’t quite tell—he hid his emotions too well.

“Well, maybe not boring…repetitive is a better word,” he corrected himself. “But, dear, I’m fine with speaking of my time here.” He replied with a smile, placing his hands upon the armrests and widening his stance. Your eyes drifted to run along his inviting toned thighs adorned by a pair of gray sweatpants that did little to conceal the curves of the muscles underneath.

You also took notice of his posture; taking a mental note of openness from the patient before you asked your question, “Well then, may I ask how you are doing during morning activities? It's stated that you prefer Creative Arts Therapy in the mornings, correct?”

He nodded, his sharp canines peeking out from between his lips as he spoke. “Indeed, mostly during Creative Arts Therapy, I write,” he explained in a deep voice. “I’ve grown to learn that to better settle my thoughts is to put them on paper.”

“And that is an excellent form of therapy that you’ve discovered for yourself, Dr. O’Hara. May I ask, what exactly do you write?” You asked, trying to ignore the faint sight of madness in his crimson orbs. “I write down my thoughts, ideas, and aspirations,” he simply said.

You hummed, giving him a smile. “How about future plans? Do you write about those?” At your question, he snickered, giving you a wry, dismissive head shake. “I…don’t write much on that,” he replied. “I’ll hate to get my hopes up,” he added in an amused, yet somewhat disheartened tone.

“Get your hopes up?” you inquired, eyebrows creasing in confusion. “May you elaborate, Dr. O’Hara?” The male nodded, his large fingers stroking the armrest of his chair in a deep caress. “I do not wish to anticipate that I will be released early,” his caresses of the chair never ceasing, and his eyes trained on his moving fingers.

You studied him, taking in his deflated voice and how he spoke in a slow manner. Your gaze shifted to take in the intricate motion his fingers moved upon the armrest as there were multiple reasons a patient would do such a thing.

He could be nervous, frustrated, impatient, or simply doing it to comfort himself. Recalling his mannerisms from previously, you could cross out your thought of him being nervous; the way the scientist carried himself was in a way of confidence that couldn’t be faked, so it left you with the last three—frustration, impatience, or comfort.

Without further observation, you couldn’t pinpoint his reasoning for his odd gesture, instead giving him a soft grin and replying to his previous words of anticipation. “I understand your concerns about getting your hopes up, especially considering that you were rewarded with an early release date based on your wonderful behavior as of late,” you sympathized, “So it’s completely normal to feel cautious about expectations,” you said, taking in the abnormally muscular male before you.

“But let’s explore these feelings, shall we? Let’s say you are released in the next two weeks; what would your life look like, Dr. O’Hara?” you asked, deeply intrigued by his answer.

A moment of silence filled the room after your inquiry, the doctor continuing to make intricate patterns upon the armrest with his finger before his red eyes returned back to you. A nervous chuckle rumbled from his chest—the sound restoring life back into the room. “Ahh, I always get stumped on that question. It's another reason I haven’t written much about it in my journal.”

You nodded, placing your hands upon your legs. “Well, let’s start small,” you proposed with a grin. “You seem to have taken a liking to the hobby of writing while staying here at NYS-MH. Would you like to expand on that?” Miguel gave you a thoughtful hum, his pointer finger continuing to glide against the armrest of his chair.

“I’ve…always wanted to write a book.” Your eyes snapped from his fingers to rest upon his chiseled face, surprise and amazement present upon your facial features at his desire. “Oh really? And what would that book be about?”

“Genetics, of course.” He chuckled, the mention of his past interest that caused his descent into madness making your heart skip a beat. Your eyes narrowed, the amazement fading from your being. You leaned back into your chair, keeping your composure.

“Are you still interested in Genetics, Dr. O’Hara?” Your inquiry being met with a nod from the patient, one that he didn’t hesitate on responding with. “I’ve worked in the field for almost my entire life and I’m exceptionally good at it.” He explained with a voice of knowledge in a low, deep whisper. “So why would I abandon my hard-earned skills and education?”

His reasoning on his maintained attachment to the field was an excellent one, but like many things, it could be a trigger; causing the once cured doctor to revert back to his old ways of sadism and horrendous acts for the sake of science. This potential trigger would not only bring harm to everyone once more but erase the hard work that Miguel had achieved at the mental institution to fix.

You cleared your throat before speaking. “I…understand your desire to write a book about Genetics. It’s an intriguing subject.” You said, preparing yourself to ask a question that would surely strike the doctor. “But considering the circumstance of your past experiments and the impact they had, how do you plan to approach the topic responsibly?” You asked, watching his reaction closely in anticipation.

After your question it seemed as if everything stopped—froze even…

You gazed at Miguel taking in his tanned face that stared back at you. His crimson eyes were empty behind his black frames and his posture was completely still in his seat.

You’ll think he was a statue…

“Dr. O’Hara?” You called out to him which seemed to snap him from his thoughts. His red eyes slowly shifted to you, his tanned lips pulling into a small smile.

“Responsibility, my dear therapist, is such a heavy word…” He said with a smirk. “But I wish to ask, what compelled you to work with the mental? It’s a challenging profession for those with weaker minds.” Miguel said, casting an odd aura upon the room with his every word. “I should know…many say they are for the discovery of science and when the time presents itself, they get cold feet.” He stated, his finger ceasing its movement upon the armrest.

It wasn't unusual for a patient to desire to ask you a question, but the way he gazed at you with his intense eyes and how his gravelly voice caused a shiver to run down your spine made you hesitant, which the patient seemed to have noticed. “I only ask since you handle your job so beautifully.” He complimented, his eyes taking in your seated position. “I only wish to know what led you here before me.” The words left the patient’s lips in an ominous manner, however, upon saying such a thing his olive face held a smile that could melt anyone’s heart.

His fanged grin, oddly, sent a wave of warmth through your being and caused you to forget your reply to his question. You shifted in your seat, trying to keep your composure and recall your departed answer. “W-well, I…umm… entered this field by the simple fact of being interested in psychology a-and the way the mind works.” You replied once you found the words, unable to hide the stammering of your voice due to how unnerving everything was becoming. Miguel nodded slowly, running his tongue along the tip of his fang, the action drawing your attention.

“Your interest in the subject of the mind is rather…fascinating.” Abruptly, he leaned up in his seat, resting his elbows upon his knees and invading your personal space. Your heart skipped a beat at his suddenness and at being able to see just how abnormal and captivating his scarlet eyes and sharp fangs were; it caused goosebumps to rise upon your skin at the mere sight.

“I imagine I must seem like a puzzle that’s meant to be solved by you, don’t I, dear?” He asked, his gaze never letting up and keeping its intensity. Due to his closeness, you almost missed his inquiry, but upon detecting it, it surprised you. Hastily, you shook your head, dismissing his ideology and rejecting his notion. “N-No, I wouldn’t exactly describe you in that way, Dr. O’Hara.” You swiftly replied.

“You wouldn’t?” He asked, his voice low and slow. “So, how would you describe me, Doctor?” He grinned, the fluorescent lights of his room bouncing off his sharp fangs as his eyes were filled with a hint of amusement, though it was impossible to ignore how it seemed he was toying with you.

“I…see individuals, like you, as people who have become lost in the darkness and just need assistance in finding the light once more.” You stated, his eyebrow raising and a chuckle escaping him at your answer. “A bold claim…” He said, his eyes tracing your figure and lingering upon how tightly you were now grasping your skirt.

“For a little thing like you…”

Miguel muttered imperceptibly that you almost didn't hear him. “E-Excuse me?” You asked in shock and with furrowed eyebrows causing the patient to snicker, shaking his head. “Just that your view is a unique way of thinking and a…intriguing one, in fact.” He said, leaning back in his chair and adopting a relaxed position once more.

“It’s really fascinating how intellectual you are, doctor.” He grinned. “Few possess the ability to navigate the labyrinth of thoughts of the mental. I applaud you on that.” Miguel praised, returning back to running his palm along the white armrest whilst giving you his undivided attention.

In your gut, you knew his recalling of the statement said previously was false, you were certain he said something that was out of the norm.

But could you have mistaken?

You took in his face, taking note of how he gazed at you. The scientist was attractive, and normally during your job you were able to ignore that appealing quality and complete the task at hand, but right now, it seems impossible.

The way his red eyes ran along your body like he was undressing you, made you blush. You couldn’t explain it, but you were stuck between your desires and your sense of reason.

You were aware of Miguel’s sadistic mannerisms and how there could be a chance he wasn’t fully well as he lets on, it was why you were here, but the longer you spoke with him, the more the task at hand was leaving you.

However, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease he gave you at times.

“M-May I ask how have you been feeling lately? Any changes?” You asked, changing the topic and settling your eyes upon Miguel once more to see him smirking. “It’s all been the same, doctor.” He began. “We have group therapies on Wednesday, daily morning activities and indoor activities…” He said, wetting his lips with the swipe of his tongue, the sight causing the tips of your ears to burn red.

Sometime while he was speaking, you shamefully zoned out to taking in how sexy he looked.

His white shirt tightly hugged his body, giving one a view of his hardened nipples, defined pecs, and washboard abs. Every curve of muscle was accentuated under the white fabric that teased anyone who saw. The muscles of his legs pressed against his gray sweatpants, and your eyes widened slightly at being able to make out the enormity that rested against his thigh. The sight causing you to bite your lip…

“Querida?”

The sexy patient called out to you, snapping you from your trance. “Y-Yes!?” You inquired, clearing your throat and taking a more assertive and relaxed position to try and dismiss your previous lack of professionalism. Miguel snickered. “It seemed you were off somewhere else…and here I thought that was my job.” He joked, causing you to chuckle nervously.

“M-My apologies. You may continue.” You replied, wishing to proceed as if none of that happened. Miguel smirked, his crimson eyes roaming along your body before his finger began to tap upon the armrest.

“In my leisure, I write in my journal, read, or tend to my plant.” He finished, keeping it short and gesturing to the bookshelf in the room that held a pot of beautiful flowers. You smiled seeing how the black flowers bloomed upon the shelf.

“May I ask, what is it that you write in your journal?” You asked, looking back at him to see his eyebrows furrowed. “It wouldn’t be ethical if I asked what you write in your diary, would it, doctor?” He inquired, causing you to instantly become regretful of your words. You casted him an apologetic look. “M-My apologies, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No…it’s fine. Your fascination is interesting…” He trailed off, a tap of his finger following your words. You glanced back over at his plant once more, the flower really captivating you. “The plant is family to the Calla Lilies.” Miguel answered before you could even ask, looking over at you as you continued to inspect the plant from your seat. “Hmm…I’ve never seen a plant like this.”

“Because this plant, in particular, is very rare.” He explained. “Native to South Africa, Escape, is a very rare find.” Miguel said with a fanged grin. “It’s why I made it mandatory that it was brought with me when I was assigned at NYS-MH.”

You stared in awe at the abnormally black flower. This was your first time seeing a plant of pitch blackness that hadn’t already withered away, but Miguel’s next words grabbed your attention.

“But one day while tending to my flowers, I hit an…epiphany of sorts.” Miguel told you, causing you to cock your head in puzzlement.

His words intrigued you…

“May I ask what epiphany you reached, Dr. O’Hara?” At your question, Miguel gave you a look of appreciation and sincerity. “I understand that upon my arrival, I wasn’t…in the best state of mind.” He said with a sigh. “But after being here, I feel like I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” You asked, bringing a small smile to his lips. “I…believe I’m ready to see the world again.” He answered, giving you a genuine look of certainty.

His realization filled you with gratification. You reached for his brown folder, believing he had, indeed, improved. The first major step for the patient was seeing that they were initially unwell, which the patient had achieved.

“I’m greatly pleased with your recognition of this epiphany of yours, Dr. O’Hara.” You said, holding his folder in your hands. “But I believe you are ready to answer some more serious questions.” You said, glancing up at him. “Are you ready?” You asked, seeking permission of his state of mind before proceeding.

With a nod from Miguel, you opened his folder, pulling out a few of his documents to begin asking more serious questions regarding them. “I’ve noticed in your next of kin that you asked for them to not be aware of your mental treatment.” You began, looking up at Miguel to see him already gazing back at you, his crimson orbs trained on you. The sight made your heart flutter. “M-May I ask how you would cope on the outside without your familial relations knowing of t-the treatments and necessary tools you've learned whilst being here?” At your inquiry, Miguel’s face hardened, his crimson eyes darkening.

“Well, you see, my dear therapist, family can be a bit…overwhelming.” He uttered, tapping his finger against the armrest once more like a metronome; his eye contact never breaking. “I’ve decided to take a more independent route for now.” He explained in a deep, slow voice. “But friends, colleagues—people who don't burden me with unnecessary questions about the past are who I seek.” He said, his voice holding a hint of coldness as his jaw clenched.

“Because, it’s important to focus on the present and the future, rather than the past, don’t you think…

Doctor?”

You gulped, his words seeming to have you in a vice. It was as if he had some kind of control over you, all of the rules and regulations you learned whilst being an evaluation therapist at NYS-MH faded from your mind. You couldn’t figure out what you found so enticing about him.

Was it the way he looked or behaved? How he seemed to speak with such intellect in a tone of voice that could lull one to sleep?

You were puzzled…

But you were certain something was happening, and it was greatly affecting you and your ability to think clearly.

You hesitantly nodded, clenching his folder and feeling your cheeks redden once again. “T-That is correct.” You agreed, not believing what you were saying. “I would understand your desire to look past your previous mistakes and move forward.” You uttered, trying to keep your attention on the patient.

“Indeed…Mistakes.” He smirked, a small chuckle passing his lips, his finger seeming to tap against the armchair after your words. Your eyes looked from his hand and to his face, studying how his coffee-brown locks blowned gently in the breeze from the vent overhead, and to his defined cheekbones and broad nose that made him even more captivating…

“Have any more questions for me, doctor?”

You jumped at his inqury, noticing you were just staring at him.

What the hell was wrong with you?!

A little disheveled, you fumbled through the folder for the next pages of information you sought, picking up his documents on his treatment plan of medications and his incident reports. “Umm…I-I wanted to ask about your medications.” You began, wetting your lips and holding the papers up to hide behind them. “T-There were two occurrences where you refused to take your medication. M-may I ask why you refused?” You asked, peeking around the paper to see the patient adjust his black eyeglasses upon his face along with the repeated thudding of his finger upon the chair.

“I must ask, how would you feel if someone took away your identity?”

“W-what?!” You asked in surprise, lowering the pages hastily. A laugh rumbled from his broad chest, giving you a clear view of his otherworldly fangs that made the pit of your stomach twist into knots. “You heard me, doctor.” He stated in a manner that was to be amusing but only made one disturbed.

“What if someone was trying to force you to be someone else? Someone you are not?” He asked, causing you to chew your inner cheek and ponder his question. “I…I guess I wouldn’t like that.”

“Indeed…” He replied. “Any creature would despise the fact of forced transformation of oneself. It’s the reason you cannot simply change a savage tiger to being a tamed kitten in your home.” The dark-haired male explained. “It’s because a tiger would always cling to its savage ways, it's what keeps them alive—it’s what they enjoy.”

“That’s…a great analogy, Dr. O’Hara.”

“Why thank you, dear.” Miguel replied with a smirk before his old expression shifted to hold furrowed eyebrows and a frown—a set of facial features that instantly tugged at your heart. “But…the true reason I refused my medication was because…” He heaved a deep sigh, biting his lip. “The depressants make me sleepy and tired all the time, and…the idea of having to depend on medicine to stabilize my irritability and emotions is rather disheartening to me.” He said in a sorrowful voice. “I refused them because I believe I can be better without them.”

You listened closely to his words, taking note of his concerns and feeling rather empathetic. “In all honesty, how would you explain your current mental health condition?” You asked, placing your compassionate eyes upon him.

He gave you a heartfelt smile, one that made your heart soar. “Like I said previously, I feel better, Doctor.” Miguel said in genuinely. “I’ve seen the errors in my ways and am deeply disgusted by what I’ve done to innocent individuals…t-too myself.” He said, looking away at the ground in shame.

“I wish to return back into society and start anew.” He replied. “Be the man that I’ve wanted to be—not some madman who allowed his idea to get too out of hand that led to the deaths of innocence.” Miguel professed to you with an emotional and hearty voice.

You nodded slowly as you noticed his scarlet eyes flicker down to your hands that held the brown folder. “Doctor…

May I?”

Dr. O’Hara asked, extending his large, calloused hand to you, seeking your palm. Your eyes widened, thickly gulping and looking back up to meet his red orbs that seemed to suck you in—enticing you to take it.

Physical connection with patients were strictly forbidden, but the sadden look of desperation upon his face led you to take his hand. You placed the brown folder upon the table before resting your hand in his large palm, and instantly yours looked to have shrunken in size. With a fluttering heart and belly, you met his eyes and instantly melted under his crimson eyes.

“Please, Cariño. I assure you, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

The patient affirmed, giving your hand an affectionate squeeze, following his heartfelt promise. Your breath caught in your throat at his genuine gaze and words.

From his evaluation, you couldn’t help but agree that he was ready…

He didn’t utter a word of sadism or show signs of insanity, revealing his first diagnosis of Psychopathy was treated or can be suppressed. He exhibited signs of sympathy for his victims, and also didn’t become angry at triggering questions, displaying that his second diagnosis of antisocial personality disorder was also cured or treated.

Like he said…

Dr. Miguel O’Hara was ready.

You gave him a small smile, placing your free hand atop of his as Miguel’s eyes shifted down to your kind gesture and back onto your face. “Okay…I believe you.” You said, caressing his knuckles with your thumb. “I’ll be sure to send in your evaluation report that you are good to go.” You told him, but as an evaluation therapist you weren’t supposed to say, but you couldn’t stop the words from spilling from your mouth.

Giving him a departed smile, you released his hands and collected your things. His touch still burned into your skin and left you yearning for more of him.

You felt his abnormal eyes on you as you went to the door. Suddenly, upon putting your hand on the doorknob, a cold shiver ran down your back—one that instantly made you come to a halt. Your eyebrows furrowed at the unsettling sensation, causing you to bite your lip in nervousness.

“And Miguel…” You called out to him, using his name and looking over your shoulder at the dark-haired male. His tanned, chiseled face held an expression of hidden joy and interest as he turned towards you, his attention captured by your call whilst he remained seated in his chair

You clenched the folder tightly, hastily shifting your gaze to meet his scarlet eyes—the previous feeling of discomfort and unease vanishing.

“I-I hope you keep your word.” You said in a voice full of reverence. Miguel returned your words with a reassuring smirk, his sharp canines poking from over his bottom lip.

“You have my word, Doctor. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

After turning in Dr. Miguel O'Hara’s evaluation report and going home, the scientist was still on your mind.

The way the doctor looked at you with his beautiful red eyes from behind his black spectacles, with a gaze of interest, to the fanged smiles and smirks he gave you—merely thinking about it made your cheeks redden.

You bit your lip, feeling a need to cure this desire for him, but you decided to push it away. You couldn’t feel this way about him…

You couldn’t…

…

But you did…

Extremely…

You lay under the blankets of your bed, tossing and turning as every time you closed your eyes to sleep, he would fill your mind.

Especially the glimpse you got of his package.

How his massive member was accentuated underneath the gray fabric of his sweatpants, revealing how thick and long he was.

The remembrance made you drool…

It had been forever since you’d touched yourself. Being a therapist at a mental facility was a rather time-consuming job, and you weren’t really interested in the many men who tried to get your attention.

Until him…

Why did it have to be him of all people?

It was a guilty pleasure, that was for sure—to have fallen so hard for this doctor, your patient who had many wounds that still needed healing.

But oddly, his wounds only pulled you in even more…

You bit your lip, allowing your hands to begin roaming along your body, imagining they were his calloused ones—remembering how his large hands practically engulfed yours when holding his hand, and how rough they felt.

Oh, how good it would feel if they were the ones touching you.

Giving your clothed breasts a squeeze through your shirt, you moaned softly. Despite his past of being sadistic and cruel to others, you imagined him being gentle with you—caressing your body and touching you in a way that stole your breath every time. You arched your back as your thumb barely flicked over your pebbled nipples, drawing a whimper from your lips.

Your panties were heavily drenched in your juices due to your core's insistent pleas for stimulation and touch. Finally satisfying yourself, with a sharp tug, you pulled your panties down, freeing your pulsating pussy.

You breathed a sigh of relief, hastily getting into a comfortable position on your back and allowing your legs to fall apart. With closed eyes, you allowed thoughts of Dr. O'Hara to guide your movements.

His massive hand ran along your abdomen, teasing you with his skilled fingertips and trailing lower. A gasp escaped your lips as your fingers brushed softly along your throbbing bud and soppy folds, spreading your juices along the sensitive area.

You imagined Dr. O'Hara above you, his red eyes gleaming in the moonlight as he smirked down at you, pressing his large middle finger into your entrance. You moaned, feeling his finger filling your tight walls.

Whimpers escaped your lips at how good his finger felt inside of you, your back arching in desire for more of him. His smirk broadened at your eagerness, as he slowly drew his finger out to the tip before pushing back in, quickly finding a rhythm and keeping at it with each thrust.

Your toes curled, burying your face in your inner elbow as you continued to finger your wet pussy, wishing Dr. O'Hara was here, but imagining would have to do. It wasnt long before a heat began to pool in your lower belly, your breathing picking up.

"Taking my fingers so well, dear," Dr. O'Hara whispered into your ear, gently nipping along your lobe and throat, his fangs grazing your skin. You whined into your arm, his fingers picking up speed and hooking just right inside your pussy, bringing you to your blissful end.

With a loud cry, your thighs trembled horribly as your juices spilled in hot spurts, soaking your hand and the sheets underneath.

Your eyes fluttered close, trying to overcome the buzz that overwhelmed your body after your release. It took a moment, but when you caught your breath and your vision settled, you withdrew your fingers from your pussy, casting your eyes upon them to see that they, not Dr. O'Hara's, were covered in your juices. You exhaled in disappointment.

Despite how good it felt imagining it was him, you couldn't help wanting Dr. O'Hara in the physical…

"I imagine I must seem like a puzzle that’s meant to be solved by you, don’t I, dear?"

As you lay there, still tinglinh from your pleasurable moment, his words filled your head, leaving you to ponder his question once more.

Did you believe him to be a puzzle that only you could solve? In the moment, you said no, but deep down, you wanted nothing more than to thoroughly fix him.

Like many patients upon being released, they still faced numerous challenges, including reentering society, finding a job, and avoiding triggers, after departing from NYS-MH.

He was going to need help, and with all your heart, you wanted to be there for him.

And you were going to.

No matter what…

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the first part of 'Tangled in his Webs.' 😆I really enjoyed writing Miguel in this persona as it was different and honestly fun, especially with him being a darker character. It was rather new for me writing in this manner, despite some challenges here and there, I'm overall proud of the outcome and I hope you are too!

@migueloharacumslut, thanks so much for the request, and I hope you are even more happier that it's to be more than one part, lol. But once again, thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!

Make sure to like, comment, reblog, and follow! If you'd like to add a request to the kink series, Entangled Desire, or have an idea in general, just message me or submit an ask. I hope you all have a wonderful day and stay safe! 💙💙

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedeva @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywatty @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages @prazinos @huniedeux @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @anniee-mr @crimin4llyins4ne @lynxslokley @rice-wife @oharasfilipinawife @migueloharastruelove @rodriash002 @e1f-boi @user3732094737 @truth-dare-spin-bottles @taleiak @alurafairy

**If you are part of the taglist and didn't receive a notification, please check your settings and ensure that the tag notification button is turned on.**

298 notes · View notes

felassan · 2 months

Text

July 22nd DA:TV Game Informer article (their last DA:TV coverage article) on Everything we Know about Bellara - cliff notes:

Bellara is Dalish elf (played by Jee Young Han as we know). There might be more to her than meets the eye

"Now, with two of [the elven] gods on the loose, magic has poured back into the world in a big way"

CC is expansive

Bellara is the first companion we will recruit (Neve and Harding join automatically it seems)

She is a mage, a Veil Jumper (who she represents), quirky, energetic, effervescent, optimistic, bubbly, academic, a tinkerer, an explorer of ancient elven ruins

John Epler wrote her and led her development, and collective team effort from lots of departments brought her to life

The BW team really love her

Gary McKay quote: "I love Bellara, I think she's fantastic. I see people that I know in her and so that's how she really resonates with me. I love the whole tinkerer aspect to her. It was a collective to bring that character to life. It was everything from the writers, to the editors, the animators, to character modelers, to the texturing, to how we light her. I'm really proud of that character."

She is a good choice in combat for both support and elemental combos. She starts out as a support character, but can be built in other ways

She attacks with a bow at range using electrically-charged arrows. She can also cast time-slow and healing spells (she can be built to heal Rook autonomously). She does this by channeling magical energy into her gauntlet

As such she leans into electrical damage

Damage type matters a lot in the strategy and tactics of combat

She can unleash a devastating vortex to pull enemies into an electrical storm (an AOE spell)

She can debuff enemies with the shocked affliction, which makes them take passive damage

Corinne Busche quote: "Oh my goodness, she is amazing. [The Veil Jumpers] investigate the ancient ruins of Arlathan. Everything about her character as a mage leans into that, but she also challenges the kind of archetypal idea of a mage."

The Veil Jumpers journey through Arlathan where the ancient empire used to exist and left a lot of artifacts and magical technology behind when it disappeared

Bellara represents this yearning to find the truth of who the elves were after they lost their magic, immortality and a lot of their history

"they still left a lot of their artifacts and a lot of their, for lack of a better term, magical technology behind"

John Epler quote: "A lot of what they know of their past is based on myth, it's based on rumor. Bellara is a knowledge seeker. She wants to find out what's true, what's not; she wants to find the pieces of who the elves used to be and really understand what their story was, where they came from, as well as figure out where they're going next, and find a future for the elves. And within the context of The Veilguard, she joins the team, first of all, to help stop the gods because Bellara feels at least partially responsible since they are elven gods, but also to maybe find a little bit more of who they used to be. Because again, you're dealing with these elves that were around millennia ago that have now reemerged into the world, and who better to teach her who the elves used to be than them."

Magic's place in the world in DA:TV differs from prior games. In Tevinter and other spaces in DA:TV it's much more present by definition and the lore (though the devs wanted to make sure magic didn't violate previously-established lore rules)

Solas is a "determined and tragic character" who "tends to wallow". [nb, these are quotes from the article]. in contrast, Bellara has seen a lot of tragedy in her backstory (we will see this as we get into her arc), but instead of wallowing, she has forced herself to push past it. "She looks at her regrets, and she tells herself, 'I don't want to feel regret'

John: "Whereas again, Solas tends to wallow in his to a large degree. And it allows us to create a very big differentiation. Part of it is also because Solas is an ancient elf, whereas Bellara is a Dalish elf, but she just sees a problem and wants to solve it. She feels a tremendous amount of responsibility to her people [...] to the Dalish, and to the Veil Jumpers, and that drives her forward. That said, she does have her moments where she has doubt, she has moments where she has a more grim outlook, and there are moments where you realize that some of her sunny, optimistic outlook is kind of a mask that she puts on to hide the fact that she's hurting, she's in pain. But in general, she doesn't see any benefit to wallowing in those regrets."

[source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #solas #feels

251 notes · View notes

stealingyourbones · 2 years

Note

Hi! So I was into DP years ago, then earlier this year got into Batfam fics, then saw my first DC x DP crossover and just 💥

So now I’m on a new obsession that has me reading every one of your prompts and any stories that come from it and I just had this one flood my brain:

Presumed Alien Danny

So for [insert reason here] Danny has to flea Amity and the living world to stay in the Zone. He’s injured, and therefore forced to use the Fenton Specter Speeder, and flies it into the portal. Only, whether due to a malfunction, Clockwork, or something else, instead of the Ghost Zone, the Speeder gets spat out of a portal in the DC universe.

So, on the other side, the Watchtower gives an alert that an unknown energy is spiking nearby, and then a spaceship/pod looking thing comes flying out of a flash of green. It’s spinning out of control, and headed for a desert on Earth. A team is dispatched, I’m thinking Superman (alien), Green Lantern (alien law enforcement) and Batman (obvious. Kid bait).

So they get there within moments of the crash, find the thing totaled, Superman hears a strange, humming/thrumming accompanied by groans, and he cracks what’s left of it open to see this green-eyed, white-haired kid with very bad injuries and green blood covering what looks like it could have been some kind of space suit. He grabs the kid, gets him out, and Lantern makes a shield that contains the massive explosion that leaves the ship/pod nothing but charred bits lying scattered across the sand.

They get the clearly alien child to the watchtower for medical help, and though they heal very quickly they still need a lot of stitches, mainly because the first set melted and they had to use ones designed for metas with corrosive abilities.

Then, a day or so later, still healing but not in danger, the kid wakes up, stares wide-eyed at the people around him, and exclaims something I a strange language.

Yeah, definitely alien.

Danny wakes up, sees a bunch of weird, costumed people all around him, and tries to ask what the heck is going on. They all stare in confusion. One guys, who’s glowing green but a different shade, had a ring that starts speaking in a different language.

So, I figure, in an alternate dimension, the English language developed differently, so Danny’s English and the DCU’s English aren’t the same. Hence more Misunderstandings.

Also, if Connor is in this, it’s not until after Danny’s been found. 😎

So Danny gets introduced via the Green Guys magic translating ring, finds out they think he’s an alien, thinks he’s still in his world, where the Anti-Ecto Acts are a thing, and goes with it. They introduce him to the younger hero’s his age, and once he’s better they set him up in their base to live, since obviously he can’t stay on the watchtower or blend in. A few weeks in is enough for Danny to get confused by all the differences and look into it, and realize he’s in a new dimension. But he’s already knee-deep in this, so he just doesn’t ever mention it, and just refers to his ‘home planet’ as Amity.

Meanwhile, the alien kid, Danny, seems to be adjusting well, if a bit confused by the strangest things at times. The planet he mentioned as home was listed by the Lantern Corps as one destroyed by a black hole a few days before Danny’s pod showed up, so they avoid asking about the clearly painful and traumatizing experience. Superman, upon learning about the boys skill set, takes him under his wing.

TLDR-

Through a series of misunderstandings and coincidences Danny is premised to be an alien child by the Justice League and taken in as Superman’s apprentice/son. He does not correct this assumption, either ever or until he is outed by something/one else.

homie I am in love with this idea. Presumed Alien Danny makes me so happy.

I will like to add: The not-quite-english that Danny is speaking is akin to old English.

#Presumed Alien Danny #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc comics #writing prompts #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #bones replies #norasalina

3K notes · View notes

scoonsalicious · 6 months

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 11, Unsure - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Mentions of sexual situations, pettiness.

Word Count: 3k

Previously On...: You've been pulling away from Bucky as he's been spending more time with Jade. But now, on the eve of her first mission, you realize that you want to fight for him and your relationship. Gino's is just the place.

A/N: So, I have this thing where, I'll write the angst, but then I'm like "no, I want you to be happy!" and then I'll write something like this, which is only just a band aid on their relationship for more angst to come. Sorry :( But, also, relationships and emotions aren't linear. We might know things aren't going well, but if we see even a hint of improvement, we latch onto it in the hope that it means things are getting better, even if it's just a temporary blip. We're optimistic beasts.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @crist1216 @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows

About forty minutes later, you walked into Gino’s looking like sin on legs. You’d made up your mind that you were going to stake your claim on your boyfriend tonight, in front of Jade and the entire team, but especially Bucky, once and for all. You were a little dizzy from the emotional whiplash you’d been putting yourself through of late, but you’d realized he was worth the chance of being hurt, and you loved him too much to not fight tooth and nail for him, and you would do so, until he told you himself that he didn’t want you anymore.

You’d chosen a pair of skin tight black leather pants that sat low on your hips and a sheer golden top with a matching satin cami underneath it. You’d left your bra at home. A pair of high, strappy gold stiletto heels completed the look, and with your hair flowing loose and curly down your back, you caught the attention of every man within line of sight as you made your way to the back of the bar.

“Jesus Christ, Pocket,” Nat said once you reached the tables at the back that your team usually secured for themselves. The redhead pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear as she did so: “Barnes isn’t going to be able to control himself when he sees you.”

“That’s the idea, Natty,” you said with a grin, taking the shot she offered you and throwing it back. “I’m playing for keeps tonight.”

Your friend smiled at you and motioned toward the jukebox. “Then I say ‘batter up’ because opposing teams’ already taken the field.”

You glanced in the direction she’d indicated and narrowed your eyes. Jade was dancing with Bucky. Or, at least, she was trying to dance with him. It was almost comical, really, the way she tried to grind up against him, yet he kept trying to put space between their bodies as he shuffled awkwardly from side to side. Your heart softened as you watched him resist her. He was being polite about it– of course he was, he was Bucky, after all, but his resistance was firm.

“I better go save him,” you told Nat as you put down the shot glass. “I’ll see you later.” You sauntered over to the makeshift dance floor, putting some extra sway in your hips as you did so.

“Mind if I cut in?” you asked, your voice extra sultry. Not even waiting for a response, you positioned your body between Jade and Bucky’s, and were immediately rewarded with the feeling of his hands gripping your waist as he tugged you to him.

“God damn, doll,” Bucky said as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, “how’d you expect me to behave myself all night when you’re standin’ there lookin’ good enough to fuckin’ eat?”

You grinned up at him, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I don’t expect you to behave at all, Sergeant,” you purred. “In fact, I’m quite hoping you won’t.”

Bucky’s eyes visibly darkened at your words, and he took his bottom lip seductively between his teeth. You were both leaning in for a kiss when you felt an impatient tap on your shoulder. You knew without turning who it was going to be.

With a roll of your eyes, you turned your head just enough to see Jade standing next to you, arms crossed over her chest, the anger on her face making her uglier than you’d ever seen her.

“Um, hello? Rude much? We were dancing.”

“Is that what that was?” you asked, turning so you had your back to Bucky’s front. You could feel the hard length of him pressed against your ass as you ground into him in time with the music. Taking his hands, you slid them under the fabric of your shirt so he could caress your bare skin. His rough fingers felt like heaven as they moved up and down the planes of your abdomen, dancing scandalously close to the underside of your breasts. You felt Bucky’s breath hitch when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra.

“If you’re that mad, why don’t you go live stream about it?” you said. “The adults are busy.”

“Bucky!” Jade whined, turning to him. “Are you going to just let her talk to me that way?!”

Your heart seemed to still, and it felt like time stopped while you waited on Bucky’s response, though in actuality, he answered her almost instantly: “You heard my girl, Vix. We’re busy.”

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against him. His dismissal of her was like an aphrodisiac that sent wetness pooling into your panties. The sexiest thing you’d ever heard. With this new access to the exposed side of your neck, Bucky began to place wet, open mouthed kisses along your skin. God, you hoped he left marks. You wanted him to claim you, to let the world know you were his. You moaned his name as you reached your arm up to hold the side of his head, urging him to use more pressure and were rewarded almost immediately when you felt the sweet sting of his teeth as he nipped at the sensitive flesh of your skin, followed by the instant soothing sensation of his tongue against the love bites.

You heard Jade scoff, but didn’t open your eyes to see if she walked away or remained; you were too absorbed in the sensation of Bucky all around you for her to matter. You lost yourself in the feel of him, no concept of how much time went by as the two of you moved together to the beat of the music.

He eventually turned you around so you were facing each other once again. You tried to slide your hands up under the hem of his shirt, to feel the firmness of him, but gave an exaggerated pout when you were met with the resistance of it being tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

“You tryin’ to undress me right here, sweets?” he asked, giving you a playful grin.

“Don’t give me any ideas, Buckaroo,” you hummed, opting instead to grab two generous handfuls of his ass. You were going to sink your teeth into that later.

“You know,” he said, leaning in close to speak directly into your ear, “I’ve been thinking: now that Vix’s gonna be out on missions, my schedule’s gonna clear up a lot. Maybe we should take that trip we talked about. Spend some time alone, just the two of us, like we used to. I miss you.”

Your face fell. You’d love nothing more than to reconnect with Bucky, away from all outside influences, but with the upcoming presentation of the crisis algorithm system looming before you, the timing couldn’t be any worse. “I can’t, Buck,” you told him sadly.

He pulled back, away from you, a new, hard glint to his eye. “Can’t,” he asked, “or won’t?”

“Come on, Buck,” you pleaded, trying to put his arms back around you, but he refused, stepping further away, “we were having a great time; I don’t want to fight.”

“Were we having a great time, Pocket?” he asked, his teeth now clenched. “I may be old, but I’m not stupid. I know you’re pulling away from me.”

You sighed. It seems like you were going to have this out right here in the bar. “Come with me,” you said, taking his hand and leading him toward the bathrooms.

As you passed the rest of your team, an obviously inebriated Sam raised his beer glass and winked at you both. “Yeah, get it, Tin Man!” he shouted, completely misconstruing the purpose of your journey to the bathroom as Bucky flipped him off. “Didn’t realize you liked it that dirty, Baby Girl!” You rolled your eyes, ignoring him as you made your way to the men’s bathroom. Checking to make sure each stall and urinal was empty, you locked the door behind you.

Bucky raised a brow at your choice of gendered bathroom. “What?” you shrugged. “Figure dudes’ll be more than willing to have pissing contests in the alley if they can’t get in here.”

You could see him struggle to fight the smile that threatened to cross his otherwise annoyed features. You always did know how to make him laugh.

“I’m not going to have sex with you,” he said, sounding petulant.

“For once, that’s not why I dragged you into a bathroom,” you said, hoisting yourself up onto the sink counter once you’d checked it to make sure it was free from… well, whatever one might find in a men’s restroom. “I want to talk. Come here.” You beckoned him over with a crook of your finger, and like a fish on a hook, he crossed the room until he was standing in front of you.

You sighed. You didn’t want to do this now, but you were tired of lying to him, lying to yourself. You wanted your relationship back, and now was just as good a time as any to set things straight. “I wanna start by saying that the reason I can’t go away on vacation with you right now,” you said, making sure to emphasize the words, “is that I’m presenting to the Stark Industries Board of Directors in less than two weeks. I still have a lot to do to get ready.

Bucky tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “For your crisis prediction algorithm?” You nodded. Bucky’s eyes widened, impressed. “Doll, that’s amazing! But… I thought you said it was nowhere near being ready for demonstration?”

You swallowed. “We’ve been beta testing for awhile now,” you said, not meeting his eye. Normally, Bucky was obsessed with your work, keeping track of every fascinating detail, but with Jade monopolizing so much of his time recently, he’d stopped asking how things with your pet project were coming along. But you didn’t bring him here to make him feel bad.

“I haven’t been paying enough attention to you,” he said softly. He reached out and held your face, tilting your head up so you would look at him.

You shrugged your shoulders. “You’ve been busy,” you told him.

“I’ve been an ass,” he said. He took a deep sigh before coming closer, wrapping you to him. “I keep being an ass, and I keep hurting you, when I swore I never would.”

“I know you don’t mean to,” you reassured him. “But, you were right… I have been… pulling away.”

Bucky backed up to study you, his face gone white with worry. “Are you… Do you… Have I fucked this up completely? Do you not want me anymore?” If you had been standing, the desperation in his voice would have brought you to your knees.

“Baby, no!” you exclaimed, pulling his hand to your chest. “I did it because I was scared. I’m so scared I’m going to get my heart broken in all of this that I started putting my walls back up. I thought that, if I could act like your friendship with Jade didn’t bother me, didn’t drive me crazy with jealousy, then maybe I would eventually believe it. But all it ended up doing was push me away from you, and that’s not what I want. I want to fight for you. Fight for us.”

“Is that what this is, then?” he asked, indicating your outfit, hair, and makeup. “Is this some kind of offensive strategy in your battle against Vix where I’m, what– a prize?” He seemed… disgusted by the idea.

“No!” The word was out of your mouth before you even had a chance to think. “Not at all. I did all this because I wanted to look good for you. I know I’m never going to compete with her in terms of sexiness; I wouldn’t even try.”

“Huh,” said Bucky, running his hand through your hair. “And all this time I thought you were the smart one.” When you looked at him in confusion, he added: “Because that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Doll, when it comes to sexy, she doesn’t hold a candle to you. No one does.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed, turning your face away from him in embarrassment as color stained your cheeks. “You have to say that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky took a step closer to you, “I have to be your boyfriend because that’s how I feel. If this,” he took your hand in his and placed it over the hard bulge of his erection, “doesn’t prove that to you, I don’t know what will.”

You took a moment to palm him through his jeans, remembering back to a time when you relished the effect you had over him, not doubting it. “Are we good?” you whispered.

“We are very, very good,” he said, leaning down to kiss you. You gripped onto the front of his shirt, slipping your tongue into his mouth. When he moaned into your lips, you felt yourself clench around nothing.

“Bucky,” you gasped, coming back up for air.

“Yeah, doll?” His eyes were blown, expression delirious with his lust for you. It was intoxicating.

“You still opposed to bathroom sex?”

Bucky threw his head back and laughed, igniting even more desire within you. “I’m not, but I’d rather take you home, lay you out naked on our bed, all open and pretty for me. Let you be as loud as you want when I make you scream my name.”

Your entire body shivered at the picture his words painted, and you nodded stupidly. “Yeah,” you said, swallowing thickly , “yeah, that sounds way better. Let’s go do that.”

Bucky picked you up from the counter and gently placed you back on the floor. Putting his hand protectively on the small of your back, he led you to the door, unlocking it and walking you back into the bar.

When you made your way back to your group’s designated tables, you were surprised to find everyone staring at you in anticipation. Tony stood in the center of the group, a wide smile on his face as he raised his arms wide open, tumbler of alcohol in his hand. “Pocket, Barnes!” he cried when he saw you emerge from the hallway leading to the restrooms. “The people demand to know! ‘What the ‘F’ Was It’?”

You buried your face into Bucky’s side to hide your laughter. Once again, your sex life had become the topic of group conversation. When had this become your normal?

“I think the ‘fucks’ have it!” Tony declared after taking in your smudged lipstick and messy hair. You watched in mock horror as Nat and Sam gave each other a double high five.

“Why do we put up with this?” you muttered to Bucky.

“Stark’s superior insurance coverage?” he suggested with a grin. You smirked back up at him before turning back to your friends.

“Sorry to disappoint, again,” you said, raising your voice to be heard over the din of the bar. “We did neither fucking nor fighting, so…” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Don’t tell me I missed out by not going with frottage again,” Nat moaned dejectedly. You laughed as you shook your head.

“Very well,” said Thor. “It was not fornication, nor this frottage, nor fighting– sorry, little Fox Girl.” You raised an eyebrow as your gaze found Jade, who looked particularly put out, much to your amusement. “Let us guess!”

Your friends began shouting out answers, and they ranged from the vulgar (“‘Finger banging’!” “Oh my God, Tony! Gross!”) to the inappropriate (“‘Fertilization,’ you know, like puttin’ a baby in her!” “Clint, how’s he gonna do that without ‘fucking’?!”) to the perfectly tame (“‘Fraternization.’” “Boo, Rogers; you’re no fun!”) to, thankfully, nothing at all (“I hate this game.” “Nobody asked you, Rhodes!”).

“Frenchin’!” Bucky shouted after a moment with a snap of his fingers. Everyone turned and stared at him like he’d just grown a second head. “What?” he asked as a blush crept up his cheeks. “We talked, then we made out. Just took me a minute to think of ‘French kissin’, is all,” he finished in a mumble.

“And with that,” you said, walking over to the booth where Bucky had stashed his two motorcycle helmets, “we are going home. Make of that whatever the ‘F’ you will.” Tony positively cackled at that.

“That’s my girl!” he gasped, clutching his sides.

You didn’t even try to suppress your grin as you tossed one of the helmets to Bucky. Tucking the other one under your arm, you made your way over to him. “Ready to go, soldier?” you asked.

“With you?” he said, putting a hand around your waist and giving you a mischievous wink. “Always.”

Before you could even make it three steps toward the door, your path was blocked by Jade, who stood before you, chest heaving and fists clenched at her sides. “Hey,” she said, clearly upset, “what about me?!”

You took a step back, curious to see how Bucky was going to handle the situation.

He sighed heavily. “What about you, Vix?”

“You drove me here! How am I supposed to get home if you’re driving her?”

“Stark hired cars,” he told her, trying to steer you both around her, but the girl wouldn’t give up her ground. “Get a ride with everyone else.”

“But I wanna ride back with you,” she said, her voice a desperate whine that made you cringe internally. God, how had you been so jealous of someone who acted like such a child?

He just shrugged in her general direction as he finally guided you both around her. “Sorry, Vix; not this time.”

You couldn’t resist turning around to give her a parting smile as you walked out the door. When you turned around to follow Bucky, though, you could feel Jade’s stare boring a hole through your back.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

193 notes · View notes

utilitycaster · 3 days

Note

Do you think the god debate and narrative around it in C3 would be more compelling if Ludinus only focused on killing the Betrayer Gods a la Cassida? As many pointed out, the impact that Primes have on mortals is largely positive. Aside from cool abilities, they give healing, meaning and comfort to their followers. Up until very recently (Braius) we haven't seen Betrayers do much of that and their followers are, more often than not, people who would cause great harm to others.

I actually do not. There's multiple questions in here, and honestly I could probably write 5000 words on any of them, which I'm not going to do, but I will split this up into components.

First: I don't think Ludinus is the problem at all. He is unambiguously the villain, but he is always narratively compelling. It is fun to make fun of him because he is genuinely a fantastically crafted villain. When I dunk on villains who are boring, it's nowhere near as fun because all you can say is "wow what do you even do. boring-ass" whereas Ludinus is full of interesting possibilities and hooks to be like how can you be so smart and have lived for so long and seen so much and come to the fucking worst conclusions. There's a reason why people have been side-eyeing him consistently since at least his first speaking appearance in Campaign 2, if not his first appearance ever, in Felderwin, and it's because he's a great character who I hope dies horribly. So his motivations are fine. I'm not saying the possibility you suggest wouldn't be a very interesting different story, but my complaints about narrative and the gods debate do not require anything different from Ludinus, who has been a consistent bright spot within the muddied narrative by being a consistent blot on Exandria and also sometimes the moon.

The narrative and the god debate are intertwined - the issue is a dull indecision that plagues both of them - so I'm splitting this one up a little differently.

What do I as a viewer think is the most reasonable stance regarding the gods based on my understanding of the worldbuilding of Exandria?

What is interesting to watch?

And therein lies the problem. I, as a viewer, think that killing the gods is a bad idea, and I've articulated this in various spaces and am not going to write another 5000 words about it right now, but between the events of past campaigns; the events of this campaign including Downfall; who within the narrative supports the choice to not kill the gods; and the complete uncertainty regarding the fate of existence let alone mortaldom should they be killed or chased away I have come to this position. Any counter-argument tends to rely either on entirely false statements, or a nebulous "a better world is possible" without any assurances that the allegedly better world is, in fact, probable. Ironically enough, I am not willing to take a leap of faith.

But as for what's interesting to watch? That's an entirely different story. My issue with the the gods debates is that they are endless, circular, indecisive, and between the least informed group of PCs we've had by a large margin. They say the same 5 sentences in different words over and over. It's like watching a bunch of high people while you're sober. It only hits hard if you're stupid. For more on this see here and here. If Bells Hells had decided 30 or 40 episodes ago to side with Ludinus, or to try to only kill the Betrayers, or to oppose Ludinus but kill the gods? Great. Fantastic. I'm not saying I wouldn't have had my critiques of it given the worldbuilding setup as described above, but I think it would have held up infinitely better as a standalone story, at least, than it does now. My problem is that instead they had endless circular indecisive conversations during a bunch of (comparatively much more interesting) fetch quests, finally came to some kind of conclusion that gave the end game some structure and direction like 4 episodes ago, and then had yet another wrench thrown at them. And convention panels and Cooldown have consistently confirmed my suspicions about the lack of planning in the places where this campaign really needed it. In my conversations after the latest episode, multiple people independently used the term "sludge" to describe their feelings about the plot.

In actual play, I want characters who have clear conviction and make bold and decisive moves because handwringing forever in such a slow-moving medium is excruciatingly boring. Like, do I think Percy in the Briarwoods arc is making good, informed decisions that make him a moral person? Absolutely the fuck not. Do I think the story where he's shooting first and asking questions later is infinitely superior to one where Vox Machina can't decide what to do for 50 episodes? Yeah.

The god debates are ultimately a symptom of this narrative aimlessness. The lack of an answer is the problem, not what the answer is.

#answered #partner-of-the-light #critical role #cr discourse #i have maintagged this because i think it is something that hasn't really been articulated #i think tbf most of us have been sucked into the gods debates too but like. the problem is that this is still a debate in episode 107

124 notes · View notes

pocketjoong · 8 months

Text

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆noctem⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ 〘act 1, chapter 2〙

〘Synopsis〙『Your hatred of dragons is a hate born of witnessing their flames consume your village, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. The worst of all is the beast that haunts your dreams, the very dragon whose memory fuels a burning desire for revenge within you. But life has a way of unsettling even the most steadfast convictions. And when you stumble upon a truth that shatters the boundaries of your understanding, you begin to question the very essence of the world you live in.』

〘Pairing〙『Night Fury!Seonghwa x afab!Reader』

〘Genre〙『FANTASY, ACTION, SMUT』

〘Word Count〙『2.5k』

〘Chapter-specific Warnings〙『Based on How To Train Your Dragon. Canon-compliant violence. Mentions of dragons attacking the mc's village. Mentions of fire. Passing mention of injuries. MDNI.』

〘Banner Credits〙『@playmetheclassics』

please note: there will be NO taglist for this series

By the time you finish tending to the injuries of those who had been sent to the infirmary, the sun is rising in the distance. A weariness settles over you as you dress the wounds of the last person you have to tend to, and you look forward to the two weeks of peace after a dragon attack.

You rinse the grime and blood from your hands in the basin tucked in the corner before rushing out of the building. Relief washes over you at the sight of familiar figures at the edge of the cliff that overlooks the port. Even though they’re merely silhouettes against the morning light, you know each of them well enough to recognise them by their shadows.

As you move closer, you note that Yunho, Wooyoung, and Mingi, the village blacksmith, look battle-ravaged and tired. But they are watching the sunrise with content smiles. You approach them with a smile of your own, but you can’t help but scan their figures for any injuries that might need healing.

Amusement dances in your brother’s eyes at your worried expression, “I'm fine. Mostly unharmed save for a few small bruises and the soot lining my clothes.”

When you turn your focus to the others, you find them grinning back at you. “And you guys?”

“No open stitches or any new injuries. I told you I’d be careful,” Wooyoung declares, his tone light-hearted.

Mingi ruffles your hair while he offers his own reassurance, “I’m fine as well. I stuck to my workshop until the very end, only leaving when Yunho and Wooyoung needed assistance with the ballista.”

“Let’s go back home and get some rest. Wooyoung and I have a meeting to attend at the hall in a few hours,” Yunho says, leading you towards your home with a guiding hand on your shoulder. Mingi trails behind silently, waving in farewell before taking the dusty path to reach his house, which also doubles as his workshop.

You, Yunho, and Wooyoung share the house overlooking the village. All three of you moved here after losing your families to a brutal attack years ago. Despite being only a few months older than Wooyoung and barely a year older than you, Yunho seamlessly assumed the role of guardian for both of you. The weight he shouldered at the tender age of twelve, stepping into the shoes of a village leader after the tragedy, often made you feel bad for him. His duties far exceeded what any child should bear, but he bore them with a grace beyond his years.

The dream claws at your consciousness, a relentless reminder of the incident that tore through your family. You can handle the sympathetic looks of your fellow villagers, but the nightmares are another story. You hate them, for they persist, leaving you exhausted and weary even after a full night’s sleep.

You unlock the door, ushering the two males inside. As the door creaks open, the comfort of the space envelops you like a familiar embrace, and you can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves your lips.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You know you are dreaming, but the panic that grips your throat is a tangible force that twists your heart and leaves your hands shaking. It’s a suffocating reality that is too familiar, too hauntingly real.

Your surroundings are too hot, too bright, and suffused with smoke that blinds your vision. The orange flames dance menacingly in front of you, searing painfully against your skin. Your brain is screaming for you to do something, to move. But you are frozen in the face of danger and struggle to comprehend the unfolding nightmare.

There’s a presence beside you, but the ringing in your ears drowns their voice. Squinting through the smoke, urgency compels you to find an escape route. If you don’t move, you’ll be burnt to a crisp by the flames, and you won’t let a dragon be the reason you meet your end.

There’s no time to waste, you realise when there’s a crash in the adjacent room. The sound is what finally jolts you into action, and without hesitation, you grab the person next to you and bolt towards safety.

The relief when you escape the fire all but vanishes as the sight in front of you changes, and you find Yunho trapped in the claws of a massive dragon. His desperate struggle mirrors the fear etched in his eyes. The image shakes you to your core. It’s new, and you know why you’re seeing this: every time Yunho is out fighting the dragons during an attack, you can’t help but worry about his safety.

There’s a beat of silence as if the world has stopped around you before you jump towards the creature holding him hostage. But you’re too late. You meet the ground with a crash while the dragon takes off, taking Yunho away from you.

You jolt awake, your heart pounding so hard that you feel it wants to escape your chest. You’re covered in cold sweat, and you feel it trail down your back. You gasp for air, for the relief that comes with your lungs being filled with oxygen. Instinctively, you look down to check your hands, half-expecting to find the remnants of blood and soot on them.

Dazed and disoriented, you rise, stumbling towards the bathroom. Looking into the mirror, you wince at your wide-eyed and tear-stained face. You’re breathing fast, too quick to be considered normal. Staring at your trembling hands, you run them beneath the water before splashing the cold substance on your face.

Feeling a presence next to you, you turn around to find your brother gazing at you worriedly. But before you can ease his worry, Wooyoung walks in through your bedroom door, which is now wide open courtesy of Yunho.

“Is everything okay?” Wooyoung breaks the silence, voice is still gravelly from sleep. You feel bad for waking them up and worrying them like this, but right now, all you can focus on is the raging panic inside of you. “I heard you screaming, Y/N.”

You blink; your throat definitely feels raw, but you can’t remember hearing yourself scream.

“I think it was a bad dream,” Yunho mutters softly, eyes still trained on you.

Dream?

It’s almost as if everything falls into place when you hear Yunho’s words. You had the nightmare once again, the same one you had had since you lost your family during an attack when you were ten years old. With clammy hands, you tightly grip the bedside table in a futile attempt to steady yourself. Stumbling, you crash onto the floor as you try to calm your furiously beating heart.

Yunho scrambles to kneel next to you, brows furrowed in worry. “Y/N, breathe with me, c’mon. ’S okay, you’re safe.” You let him tuck you into his chest, the touch becoming an anchor to help you ground yourself. You breathe deeply, timing your breaths in tandem with Yunho’s. You remind yourself over and over again that he’s safe and sound.

“Was it the same dream?” Wooyoung’s voice is closer now, and you open your eyes to see him in front of you. You shrug as an answer to Wooyoung’s question.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you whisper apologetically, but they quickly shush you.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” Wooyoung murmurs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as if he already knows your answer, “Or would you like to help me with lunch?”

“Brunch,” you declare, carefully disentangling yourself from Yunho, who has fallen asleep. Little snores leave his mouth, and you suppress a giggle. You grab a pillow from your bed, gently supporting his neck to ensure he sleeps comfortably even if he’s on the floor. Quietly, you follow Wooyoung into the kitchen.

“What are we making?” You question, standing in the middle of the room while Wooyoung rummages through the cupboards.

“How do omelettes and buttered toast sound? Yunho bought bread from the village baker last evening, and I’m sure we haven’t run out of the jam we prepared,” he stops his hunt and starts gathering the things needed for the proposed meal.

“We also have some leftover meat pie,” you inform him, fishing out the pie from the pantry and setting it on the table. Grabbing a large bowl, you crack some eggs while Wooyoung chops the vegetables, the two of you falling into rhythm easily.

Wooyoung reaches over to add the chopped vegetables to the bowl, stirring them with the eggs as you place two pans on the stove. Soon, you have two omelettes sizzling in unison. Carefully, you add different spices and ingredients to each one based on your individual preferences. Spotting extra vegetables, you throw them in a pan to sauté them while Wooyoung handles the omelettes.

“Wow,” Yunho walks into the kitchen, drawn in by the aroma of food. He peeks over your shoulders. “That’s a feast right there.”

Eventually, you and Wooyoung finish cooking and carry everything to the table with Yunho's assistance. The three of you happily devour the food, joking, teasing, and laughing between bites.

“I have to go into the forest to gather more herbs. It’s amazing how fast we burn through them after the attacks,” you sigh, already tired by the mere thought of having to haul a huge batch of herbs from the forest.

“Be careful,” Yunho warns you. “The forest is safe right now, but you can’t be careful enough.”

“Don’t worry,” you reassure with a smile. “I’ve done this so many times.”

After bidding goodbye to the two males, you follow one of the trails behind your house that leads into the forest. You hum a small tune as you walk through the woods. Despite the village being attacked every fortnight, the forest is safe because the dragons avoid lingering for fear of getting captured. The chirping birds and the small animals frolicking around in the undergrowth lift your spirits. You take a deep breath, unable to stop yourself from breaking into a smile.

The sound of a nearby waterfall catches your attention, prompting you to change course towards the opening through the trees. However, you halt in your tracks when you spot broken trees and upturned earth, suggesting that something came barreling down from the sky.

The only thing that would crash down from the sky is a dragon.

Unsheathing your shortsword, you slowly approach an outgrown rock where the wreckage seems the worst. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before peeking to check if you’re right, only to hide behind the rock once again quickly. There, on the other side, is a dragon you’ve never seen before.

It doesn’t take a genius to identify it as a Night Fury, also known as ‘the offspring of lightning and death itself.’ The beast’s scales are pitch black, adorned with small horns that spike from above its eyes, down its neck, back, and tail, the tip of which fans out like that of a whale. Surprisingly, it doesn’t look as terrifying as its reputation suggests, resembling more of a feline than a vicious reptile. For being a dragon dreaded across the seven seas, the beast looks tamer than the ones you’ve come across over the course of your life.

Peeking from behind the rock again, you realise the dragon is tangled in rope. There are signs of struggle, showing that it tried but failed to free itself from the binds. As it seems to be asleep, you approach cautiously, awed by the sheer size of the creature. The dragon likely hears you because, even though it can’t move, one of its eyes opens, fixing a stare at you. It releases a warning growl when you move even closer, but you scoff, knowing fully well that it won’t be able to harm you.

“You know, you really look more like a cat than a dragon,” your tone is belittling as you tilt your head to meet the dragon’s gaze head-on.

The dragon emits what seems like a scoff, earning an eye-roll from you. “You should be nicer to me. After all, I could kill you, and then what would happen, huh? Your little family would find it harder and harder to attack us, considering that you’re the one who makes it difficult for us to bring down the rest of your kind.”

It hits you that this would be your first dragon kill, and for some reason, it gives you a sense of satisfaction. Eliminating the Night Fury is a step closer towards your goal to avenge your family and the countless others who were destroyed by these beasts.

Raising your blade, you look down at the beast with a blank expression. The dragon gazes at you with big, pleading eyes, its pupils round and sparkly like that of a cat. Your grip on the weapon falters, and sensing your hesitation, it lets out the most pathetic of whimpers.

“You have some nerve, really,” you sigh, the urge to harm the creature gradually ebbs away the longer you look into its eyes. It’s a living, breathing creature, and it goes against all your ideals as a healer to kill a sentient being. “First, your kind kills my family, then you guys literally cause so much damage to my village every time you attack, and here I am, wanting to spare you? Why can’t you be as ugly as a Gronckle?”

The dragon blinks at you in confusion.

“Stop looking at me like that!” You scold it, only causing the dragon to huff, this time in amusement. Sensing that you’re not going to kill it, the beast lets out another whine and closes its eyes.

Sighing once again, you use your sword to cut through the ropes, loosening the bonds that bind the poor creature. That is your second mistake because the moment it is free, the dragon lunges at you, pinning you against the rock as you gasp in shock. It growls at you, keeping you restrained with its claws.

“Oh, isn’t that just lovely?” you mock the dragon. You know you’re playing a dangerous game, but you can’t stop taunting it. “I save your sorry life, and you thank me by pinning me to a rock? Quite the peculiar way to express gratitude, I must say… and quite kinky.”

The beast regards you with a look of sheer disbelief, scoffs dismissively, and turns around to fly further into the forest. Only when it crashes into an outcrop of rocks, do you notice the unsteadiness of its flight.

Is it injured?

Your brows furrow as a pang of worry pierces through your heart, but before you can act on it, the realisation of how late it it dawns upon you. You haven’t even started collecting the herbs you had ventured into the forest for. Deciding to return tomorrow to check on the dragon, should it still be around, you start the laborious task of gathering the herbs you need.

174 notes · View notes

aclickbaittitle · 9 months

Text

What do Fiction Podcasts have to say about the future?

Whenever you write a story set years from now, how you construct the world around it creates a new way to see the future, a fictional image to a reality we could be headed towards.

Fiction podcasts love to play within the sci-fi genre, and the thousands of audio dramas they have given us new pictures of what our world could look like in the next century (or a few years closer).

In this article I want to analyze the settings in the following shows: Hello from the Hallowoods, Desperado and The Strange Case of Starship Iris.

Hello From the Hallowoods

Hello From the Hallowoods welcomes us to a world ravaged by black rains and capitalism’s greed. After a natural (but man-made) disaster involving acid rain and flooding the world’s successions gave birth to two different types of beings: those who prefer to dream in a company’s “Prime Dream” and those who stay awake to continue living.

Even though the world is post-apocalyptic on paper, it never feels like it. Rather it is enchanted, there are woods where gods, revenants, devils, giants and zombies fall in love with themselves and with each other, places where community is found.

This, I attribute this to the fact that most characters don’t lament a nebulous “end of the world”, since this is the world they have always been living in and they are going to make the best of it: find family, friends, lovers, build homes and destroy bigots.

You leave the world of Hello From the Hallowoods knowing that even a doomed world is worthy of being awake for.

Desperado Podcast

Desperado Podcast also takes us to a world that was looted, but this time mainly by religious colonialism.

Neo-colionalism has made itself tangible through genocides and direct targeting to believers that worship other than the “Old man in the Sky”. In its first episode a community in México which revere La Catrina (a goddess in the show inspired by a popular figure in mexican art) is wiped out by the crusaders.

From there our protagonist Elio is the sole survivor of his people, however all is not lost as he teams up with Talia (the chosen of Baron Samedi) and Shinji (whom I believe is a death kami?).

Elio now literally carries the memories of his community as the vessel for her goddess. Likewise in Desperado, the magic of the characters is the legacy their ancestors gave them, and it is what keeps them alive in the violent world.

Though if we are ever to worry that our protagonist could fall into its clutches, the structure of the world soothes our preoccupations. You see, it is the characters within the story that are narrating their own experiences to the audience so we know that after all the pain, they ended up safe.

What Desperado tells us about the future is that, even with the ongoing genocides, white-washing of our culture, and neo-colonialism in general we will end up victorious in the end, and that our history will be forever within our memory.

The Strange Case of Starship Iris

The Strange Case of Starship Iris, is the most sci-fi audio drama out of the bunch. It follows the crew of the Rumour, a smuggler's ship, as they try to uncover the dark secrets of the Federation and evade persecution.

As with the other two properties, the future is not an easy world, but our characters are making the most of it.

In a post-war galaxy, the crew of the Rumour is smuggling space-ship parts, medicine, and erotic magazines until they find a help alarm coming from the Starship Iris and rescue biologist Violet Liu. From there they are involved in a mystery which, if the truth comes to life, they could be charged with treason against the Intergalactic Republic.

Throughout the two seasons of the podcast, Violet Liu and company heal together the scars that the war and its result: the Intergalactic Republic left them. They fight against the government not only through robberies, infiltration, and coordinated efforts with rebel groups but also by eating latkes, drinking, singing shanties, and getting gay jewish married.

To conclude

if queer podcasts are telling us something about the future, it is that it may be equally messed up as the present but that queer, disabled people of color will exist beyond the end of the world and that even in the bleakest of futures we will continue to love and thrive.

#hello from the hallowoods #desperado podcast #strange case of starship iris #hfth #tscosi #article #audio drama #audio fiction #fiction podcasts #also #is so funny how only one out of the three shows is like “true” sci-fi but hey the three are set in the future (or an alternate reality in d #desperados case #but whatever)

227 notes · View notes

rizzoreads88 · 2 months

Text

“How can you still like Tamlin?!”

I’m asked this a lot so here I go.

Before I get into that it… I think tamlin is so hated because people insert their ex partners as Tamlin. I understand everyone has triggers and that’s very valid but it’s important to remember Tamlin is not anyone’s ex . People seem to only hold Tamlin (and Nesta) to todays morals and standards and no one else.He is a fictional character. Fae are not even the same as humans. I hold tamlin to the moral standards set in acotars fictional world. If we held all these characters to todays standards most of them would be awful people and considered abusers at different points in the story.

It’s also important to remember when I Talk about Tamlin I’m speaking about Tamlin within this fictional world setting. I am not talking about who he may remind anyone of in real life. I’m not talking about those actions in the real world.( it’s odd I even have to explain this but this is how the acotar fandom is )

Ok now on to why I still Love Tamlin.

He has a good heart. He helps lesser fae when no one else does… he’s known for doing whatever he has to do to fight against slavery…the summer court fae went to the spring court because he knew it was safe space and tamlin buried him w his own hands… he gave himself up to his childhood predator to try and protect feyre from her… he set feyres family up for life and was still taking care of them financially even after she was w Rhys for a bit… he got her fathers leg healed… the only reason why feyres dad could get those ships was because of tamlins money..he took Lucien in when he had nowhere to go and gave him a position of power and protection w that title from beron, he was the one who went to the dawn court to get Lucien his mechanical eye… he was a double agent for the courts against Hybern when no one believed him..then after everything went to 💩 and feyre and everyone hated him he still put his life on the line and saved feyre, elain, az, briars life from hyberns camp, he dragged the autumn court and the humans into the war to help and was a huge reason they won the war and he saved rhysands life… even though rhysand would have not done that for him if the situation was reversed…he helped saved prythian twice…

Don’t get me wrong tamlin definitely did some awful things I don’t agree with or excuse but they all have done horrible things that are inexcusable. I love tamlin bc I look at his character as a whole not just his awful moments in acomaf. He is the beast from the beauty and the beast.He is a morally gray complex character like the rest of them.

In the end I am glad that Feyre ended up with Rhysand and has found her happiness. I just think Tamlin has paid his dues and been held accountable (when other characters who have done awful things are never held accountable). He deserves to heal and get his own Happy ending as well.

#acotar #sarah j maas #tamlin #pro tamlin #spring court

89 notes · View notes

onskepa · 6 months

Note

HELLO HALO HELLO! I SAW THE UPDATE THINGY AND NOW I HAVE ARRIVED WITH A REQUEST! Whew!

Okay so here me Out! I've been thinking about neteyam alot but I have yet to request maybe some neteyam and Aonung together falling for reader

My request is based of a made up Tribe I Made,

/backround information/

the tribe is called the Tawsyuram (Aurora Mountain) tribe who live on a mountain high above a sea of clouds.

The original Tawsyuram clan had almost gone extinct due to a destructive Na'vi clan, but was saved and had grown anew due to the help of a large close knit group of humans from the slums on earth. Due to they're now Tsahik, Mai a human woman who was a doctor trained in surgery and herbal medicine was able to regrow and heal the spirit tree using an earth seed (when I do my full info thing on my tumblr you'll learn more, but that's later!)

Due to the healing of the spirit that houses Mother earth's (daughter 'Rrta) spirit herself a plant had blossomed allowing the humans to breath great mother Eywa's air the humans along side they're now Na'vi spirit family live in harmony over many years.

(They live within the mountain caverns)

/the request/

The Sully's were originally traveling to hide away from the RDA and Quaritch, were going to seek uturu from the Metakiyan, that was until they cam across this young avatar driver? Na'vi teen? Saying her clan would be able to hide them from the RDA gladly.

Neteyam who was intranced by this strange bubbly and wild girl who (as his father called it) talked like an excitable hippie, was absolutely gorgeous... and it would seem his soon to be mate Aonung would agree, also just a little question but, how the HELL IS SHE FLYING AN IKRAN WITHOUT TSAHEYLU!?!?

\Basically I would like to request the Sully's and Tonowari's family having to go into hiding and stuff meet this Ki (a character from Mars needs Moms) like teen girl who finds the Sully's mid travel and offers to shelter them within her tribe since they'll be much more accepted there. They arrived at the floating Mountain, though quite dizzy since they aren't used to being this high above, and are welcomed by the Tsahik who is a bit ditzzy though very calming and understanding, high difficult to anger see's there strife and welcomes them wholeheartedly all the while kinda jokingly yet a tad bit seriously scolding her daughter (the reader) about how she wasn't supposed to leave the Mountain until she was 18 to pass her Iknimaya (since those in the tribe bond with they're ikran's just before they hatch at a young age, giving them time to learn how to fly and practice the bonding dance when they are 18.) Along the way Neteyam and Aonung fall pretty hard for the happy go lucky tsakarem.

Basically the Sully's coming to learn a different side to humanity than they're used to./

\a bit more info to help with the story/

That Tawsyuram's healing hut is sheltered between three gigantic curly trees with book shelves holding many medical records, medicine information and tactics. With a huge curly tree in the middle with glass jars holding glowing bug fireflies to light of the room, tables and comfy sleeping mats and big pillows on the floor in the open spaces of the room for the patients.

Little ones at the age of 6 to 9 will go up to the Ikran nest that house the expecting ikran parents to be with either a food gift or a nesting gift, That is only given when the the egg wiggles in the direction towards its chosen, sensing its soon to be rider. After the gifts are given the children will carry the egg in a type of bundle strapped to they're chest making it easier to carry to a large crystal that gives off heat, watching as the ikran hatches from its egg on a soft nesting near the crystal. The baby will then nip its chosen on they're skin too show they have chosen they're future rider.

Once a year has passed, the child and its somewhat grown ikran who know are coming into they're colors will learn to fly together as a part of their training. The child with a sky diving wingsuit and the youngling ikran, with jump off a not so high ledge gliding of floating above a somewhat deep lake.

The Iknimaya is quite dangerous, so the Na'vi and humans alike agreed that it will only be carried out when the child has become 18 years of age. To do the Iknimaya they must fly on the back of they're ikrans back and then are left to climb up the flat faced mountain, which is even high than they're home's mountain. They meet their ikran onto of it and then jump sky dive off the mountain with a special wingsuit material made to look like they're ikran, which is made by the parents as a sign of sending them off into adult hood. They will then fly with they're and must land on their back and bond mid flight, strengthening the already growing bond they had when they were little.

The humans planters who run the fields found ways to plant human food, while the doctors and a few scientists found ways to detoxify the pandora meat so they may eat it. Their cook fire has a huge round island like table where the cooks cook the food inside the circle. The cook fire room if big to hold many of the tribe with two stories with pillows on the floor to sit on. Even sweets like cakes and such are on the menu!

The Na'vi and humans also wear clothing like the Omaticaya and Metakiyan but also wear winter clothing using wool from a pandora like sheep that are taller than humans but only come up to a Na'vi's waist.

The Tawsyuram clothing

All the images were made from using Bing AI prompts I made.

(I hope this is an okay request? And not like too much, if the whole neteyam and Aonung thing isn't cool, then I'm fine with you just doing Lo'ak. Thank you for taking the time to read this!

I hope you are having a wonderful morning/evening/afternoon/night! Hun!

Helloooooooooooo darling! Honestly you have such a big imagination and vast ideas here. It took me a good while for this story to be as good as you visioned it to be. Unfortunatly some stuff was cut out but I hope that what stayed is good for you and everyone to read! So sit back and relax! Enjoy!

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

Tawsyuram clan

It wasn't easy. Leaving all that you know for somewhere that beyond what you are literally built for. And to look for a clan that is willing to welcome a family that seeks refuge from a way is even harder. There is a lot to gamble on. Child born living only the life of war, and to live a life of peace is very desirable but would be getting used to.

So that is what Jake and Neytiri sully do. Leaving their home for the sake of their children. The question is, where? Where can they go? Who is willing to accept them? While Jake sully had an idea of heading to the islands of the reef na’vi where they are more isolated. He needs a plan B in case the reef clans reject them.

If only by Eywa’s miracle can a open chance appear before him.

“Why not join us?”

A human. With an ikran. A Human riding an Ikran was standing before the sully family. A Human, without a MASK. And very short too. Everyone was staring at the human in unbelievable shock. None uttered a word.

“Hello…..? Is something on my face?” The human asks her ikran who only grunts in response.

“Who are you?” Neytiri was quick to react, her blade ready to strike. The human raised her hands to show she meant no harm and didn't take another step. “Easy, I am not here to bring you harm. My name is Danu”.

“What do you want?” Jake asks/demands.

“It's not what I want, it's more like what you need,” Danu replied.

“And what would that be?” Kiri asks, feeling a slight irk prickling behind her head.

“Protection from the RDA. My clan can help you with that and more” Danu adds.

“What clan would have humans in it?” Neytiri hisses, not liking the young human by the second.

“The Tawsyuram clan” .

The travel towards wherever the girl was leading them to didn't take that long. Only about a day. The family would have gone longer if they still headed towards the reef islands. Instead of going north, the girl led them south. Where neytiri can remember, is just pure open mountains and large bodies of water. No clan inhabits those areas. At least clans neytiri is familiar with.

“We are here!” the girl shouts behind her. The family looks around, but all they see is thick clouds surrounding them. Cant see anything further than 15 feet of range vision. “Where is here?” *Jake asks. The girl didn't answer. The view did.

High above, in the middle of vast floating mountains stood one massive floating island. Large and vast. As they get closer, more details are easy to see. The island has its own mountains, its own clouds! Everyone was in awe.

“Welcome everyone! To Aurora mountain!”

Words cannot even begin to describe the beautiful mountain. Wild ikran flying freely, clouds forming above the mountain peak. Plants grow in so many shades and colors. It was vibrant. And it felt so familiar yet new to the sully family. And as they landed on the ground of the mountain, the gentle breeze welcomed them. Everyone got off of their ikrans and looked all over at the new location.

Danu happily jumped off of her ikran and skipped along. “Come on, there is so much to show you. My mother would love to meet you all” gesturing to follow her.

The family all stuck together, still wary of this place. Unsure of what to think of it. “Ma’jake, what if it's a trap?” Neytiri suspects, holding tuk close to her as the child wanted to follow Danu. Jake reassured her by holding her close, “our ikrans are ready to take flight again, we are armed and ready to fight. We should be fine” he replies.

Kiri and lo’ak on the other hand were admiring the new view and happily followed Danu as they entered the save. The entrance was hidden by massive leaves that can move by a single touch. Inside was a path full of colorful paintings and murals. So many details and no doubt so many stories it holds.

“Come on, don't slow down on me! Everyone is excited to meet you!” Danu’s voice echoed in the cave. Picking up speed, everyone followed Danu, where she stood in an open area, her smile big and bright and arms wide in a welcoming gesture. “Welcome to our home!” she announces proudly.

“Oh my Eywa….”

The inside literally looked like a whole new world. Ikrans flying high above the massive cave, hanging flowers from the cave sides or from smaller floating rocks. Waterfalls everywhere, little creatures flying or running about. And most of all, na’vi and humans were together. Many playing games, farming, chatting, anything they did together. What Jake noticed was that the humans were not wearing masks. And neytiri noticed that there was a mix of pure na’vi and what looks like hybrid na’vi’s like her children. It was a perfect utopia. Perhaps suspiciously too perfect.

As they continue deeper into the village, the locals all stop to look at them, curiosity evident in their eyes. Some children even follow them closely.

“This is so weird…” Lo’ak whispers, kiri was quick to shush him.

“Come, my mom will be super excited to meet all of you!” Danu says, learning them through the village, and through another patch of forest. “I know the village must have overwhelmed you but it was to give you the view of your possible life here. Of course if you choose to stay” Dany informs, moving some plants out of the way without the need to cut them.

“Who is your mother…?” Neytiri asks.

She wasn't given much of an answer as Danu climbed a set of stone stairs leading up to an uphill. The family quickly followed and coming in view was a tree. But not just any tree, a tree so different yet so familiar. With a hue of glowing teal color and Atokirina floating about, this was the people’s spirit tree. However, something else floats alongside the Atokirina. Something neytiri has never seen before.

“MAMAAAAAAAAA~!!” Danu calls out in a happy cheery voice.

At the base of the tree stood a human woman. Long braided hair, the ends with what seem like white stone and beads spreaded around her braids. Her outfit seeming to tell she is of higher status.

The woman looks over at danu and smiles, welcoming the girl in a tight embrace. “Mom! I have brought some new guests! Meet the Sully family!” Danu happily introduces and she points to the family.

The woman looks at the family, and greets them in the na’vi way, with grace and elegance sewn in every movement. “Welcome to our home, it seems like you have traveled a lot. Perhaps some rest is needed before you can ask your question"

They were given a home. Looked like a mix of a marui and a hut if Jake could describe it as best as he could. It was spacious, the kids got to have a private spot each and the pit for a cook fire was in the middle. They got to settle down and gather their thoughts, until jake called in for a family meeting.

“Look, I get this is all new. For you, for us. But it seems they are willing to take us in without even asking. So try to be on your best behavior, all of you. Especially you lo’ak” jake says, looking at his second son. Lo’ak wasnt making eye contact so neteyam grabbed him by the neck making him face his dad.

“Will we really stay here…?” Tuk asks nervously. While it seemed very exciting exploring a new place and meet new people, it was also scary. Jake took a moment and answered, “if they let us baby”. Tuk made a whining noise, frowning “I want to go home!” she whimpers. Close to crying. Neytiri looks at her baby with sadness, “oh tuk…”. Jake holds tuk’s hand to comfort her. “This is most likely to be our home now…and we will make most of it”

“What does your father always say?” Neytiri asks her children…

“I hope you have all settled well. Come, you must all be famished” the woman says with an unusual softness to her voice. The sully family were invited to her home, where danu happily helped in serving the food for the newcomers.

“I'm sorry, but what was your name again…?” Jake asks, wondering of the lady. And the woman lightly taps her head, “oh where are my manners. My name is Mai, the tsahik of the Tawsyuram clan” mai introduces herself.

Neytiri’s tail sways curiously, “tsahik? You? But you are a human” she says.

“Indeed, but soon you will learn neytiri, that this clan, this mountain, is not like what you know” Mai says, giving a playful wink.

Mai gestures to everyone to take a seat as Danu serves everyone their portion. The food looked and smelled delicious, and from long travel, all of a suddenly everyone was starving. Tuk was all too happy to dig in, lo’ak doing the same. Both humming at the welcoming taste on their tongues.

“Hungry I take it?” Mai teases as she takes a bite from her food. Neytiri cautiously takes a bite, her ears perking up liking the taste. It taste familiar yet different at the same time. Kind of tricky to describe the taste. But it had meat and other nutritional pieces of food.

Danu sat next to neteyam, the boy looked over at her, really taking in her appearance.

“You can stare at me all you like, pretty boy, but later, it's meal time” Danu winks at him. Neteyam nervously smiles but looks away, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He didn't say anything further and just ate in silence.

After their hearty meal, questions flowed out like an endless river. But everyone asked so many questions at the same time, it was a mumbling mess. So, with a simple gesture of a hand, mai lowers the volume collectively. “One by one, all of your questions will be answered” was all she said.

“Exactly, what is this place…?” Jake asks. A lot has happened in the few hours they have been exposed to something this strange. Even for pandora standards.

“A floating mountain. Well, to be more specific, it is a mountain cut from the northern mountains. It is so big, it created its own ecosystem. I found it many years ago and settled in” mai explained.

“Found it…? How?”

“I was a scientist when the RDA arrived, much like many, I fell in love with this planet. It's precious and pure. I remember crying for seeing something so beautiful, so natural and colorful. To say, it didn't take a whole lot to change my mind. So secretly I planted my own ideas. Quiet literally”

Mai turns to point at the spirit tree.

“That tree? It grew from a single seed that I brought with me from earth. Originally, the seed was of a red oak tree. However, when infused with the pandora soil it grew to something different. Something more beautiful. I see it as something from Eywa, her way of blessing the tree, blessing this mountain. And through this miracle tree, we humans can breathe the same air as the na’vi”

Once the na’vi were mentioned, it was neytiri’s turn to ask, “Why would na’vi come here?”

Mai offered tuk a sweet treat as she continued, “why wouldn't they? After many raids from the RDA, many lands destroyed and their homes gone, where else could they have gone? Yes to another clan, but who is to say that clan won't be targeted next? They are tired of constant loss, so here is their answer”

Jake knew there will be many more questions to ask, so he thought of telling his kids to go out and explore, but mai beat him to it.

“Danu my love, why dont you give the sully kids a proper tour of our home? Make sure they know and learn everything of their new home” mai tells danu. Her daughter nods in glee and leads the kids outside of her home.

“Now, with them being entertained, lets talk about…”

“C’mon, this way!” Danu tells the four kids as they follow her closely. Neteyam being very close, might as well be at equal sides, lo’ak not too far and kiri carrying tuk as to not fall behind. Through the many plants, trees, and small bridges, they return back to the village where everyone was doing something.

Tuk smiles as she gets to see the village life in a longer range. Everyone looked so busy, chatting, moving cattle from one place to another, people in stalls trading some items for others, others cooking and feeding those who are hungry. There is something going on in every corner.

“It looks so……busy” lo’ak says as he observes the people.

Danu lets out a short cackle, “of course! It is always busy here, wither hunting, weaving, trading, there is something going on and there is always something new! Come on, let me show you!”

Once again Danu leads the siblings. Weaving a path through the busy crowd, neteyam follows easily, not losing sight of her noticeable hair. He and his siblings silently say “excuse me” and “I'm sorry” as they catch up to danu. They caught up to her as she stood in front of an older na’vi. Sitting on his seat as he fans the smoke of something he is cooking.

“Welcome danu, are those the newcomers I see?” the kind elder na’vi asks, danu nods eagerly. “Yes, I am showing them around the village and soon the whole mountain!” she answers happily. The sullys introduce themselves one by one. While they chatted, tuk couldn't help but drool as the tasty looking food. The elder na’vi noticed and asks, “Would you like one young tuk?”

Tuk hides her face behind kiri’s arm but shyly nods, the elder na’vi chuckles and hands her the most delicious looking treat. “Here, all yours, it is a fish kabab, but be careful. It is really hot” he says, tuk accepts and gently blows on it before taking a bite. Her big eyes sparkle with delight.

“MMNNNNN~!! Its so yummy!!” she happily praises. The elder na’vi smiled with joy, then he handed a fish kabab to each sully. “Enjoy your treat” he says, everyone happily thanked him and soon they made their way again through the paths.

“Damn, this is good” lo’ak comments as he enjoys the fish kabab. Danu turned to him, “trust me, that kabab is just the start. Our cooks are so talented and know just how to use everything and make a delicious meal!”. As she goes on to explain what each clan member does, of all the siblings, neteyam seems to hear but not 100% listen.

He focuses more on danu’s voice and her personality. Something about her seems to draw him in. Is it her enthusiasm? Her boldness? Her extroverted ways? Neteyam doesn't know himself, but if they really are going to stay, he has time to figure it out.

“Oooooooohhh~!! They look so fluffy!!” Tuk says as she points at cute, sheep looking creatures that are being hurdled by a human farmer. Danu took her time to introduce the kids to many aspects of the mountain, To show them that here, it is safe.

“What are they exactly? I have never seen or heard of them before?” kiri asked curiously.

Danu snickered a bit, her shoulders shaking from trying not to laugh “they are called…..floofers. I am not joking, that is what they called”. Tuk looks back at the cute creatures, three yellow beady eyes on each side, 2 sets of horns curled backwards with six hooved feet and remarkably pure white floof as their fur. However small, they look tough.

“I like it, floofers is an interesting choice of a name” lo’ak comments as he twirls a hanging vine nearby.

“But why that name?” it was neteyam’s turn to ask, danu shrugged. “I'm not sure, my mom named them that. I guess because they are floofy? I really don't know but I like it either way” .

They all admired the different herd animals in the massive farm land, until danu led them somewhere else. But as they keep on exploring, kiri notices that a few here and there are interesting glowing insect like creatures. They remind her of Atokirinas, they fly gracefully in a delicate manner. Close to a butterfly shape, they seem to be a bit see-through, almost as if they are either made of thin glass or thin fabric. The light they produce is beautiful, a gentle white glow. And for some reason they are getting closer to her, and kiri in return getting closer to them.

“So pretty!” tuk notices the pretty looking insects, letting one land on her hand.

“Awe, they like you” Danu coos as the glowing beauties land on kiri, taking interest. “What are they…?” Kiri whispers as to not scare them.

“Tswatuhì” Danu replies slowly, admiring the little display in front of her. “They are like atokirina, little blessings of our great mother. And it seems they have taken you quite well kiri”

The little butterflies then left kiri and landed on tuk, lo’ak and neteyam, giving each of them their own glow. “Oh ma’eywa, truly a lovely blessing” Danu says in awe. Humming a bit, Danu enjoys the scenery.

“Truly, truly you guys are like disney princesses” she comments.

“What's a disney princess?” Tuk asks

“It's a Earth thing”

“Ma’jake…are you certain?” Neytiri asks nervously. They have returned back to their new temporary home after talking with mai. They had a lot to think over. So Jake, rubbing his chin as he sits with his mate by his side.

“You heard what mai said. This place is hidden in the clouds and aware from any RDA areas. It is just…too good. Too good of everything. The mountain, the environment, the people…” he goes on.

Neytiri lingers on the people part. Yes, the people. Human and na’vi and the inbetween. As they made their way back, she noticed many romantic couples that were na’vi and human. If they are going to stay, this is something she has no choice but to tolerate. Yet the irony is there, to run away from humans they now have to live with the humans.

“And our children…?” she asks more. But before Jake could respond, as if on cue, their children returned with baskets full of things and big smiles on their happy faces.

“Mom! Dad! You won't believe what we saw!” Lo'ak said eagerly, tuk light slapped his arm because he beat her to it.

“Look look, this fruit is called a watermelon! And it is so good! Very sweet and we can make all sorts of treats with it!” tuk showed the big green melon to her parents. Jake saw it and couldn't believe his eyes.

“Watermelon…huh, this was long gone back in my time…” he whispers.

“We had fish kebabs and we gotta try to make some! Oh! And some of the locals were kind enough to give us these….”

The kids happily spoke of their little journey through the mountain, the people they met, the foods they tried and the overall culture thanks to their new friend Danu. But as they chatted away, Neytiri and Jake shared a look. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to stay.

As the sun sets below the horizon and darkness covers all sky and land, the mountain and the life inside comes to life. Bioluminescent colors glow in beautiful colors, and like any part of Pandora, the mountain was its own other word once darkness falls.

Nocturnal creatures come out, and the daytime creatures lay in their nests to sleep.

And the Tawsyuram mountain? They thrive.

Like any tribe, the Tawsyuram clan was no different when it came to communal meals. Everyone went to the main center of the village, light hearted laughter, people dancing, singing, enjoying the moot. It was different yet it felt so familiar to the Sully family. The 5 gather together in a huddle like grip, many other locals surrounding them, giving their greetings and offerings to make them feel welcome.

They appreciate it, Jake is neytiri still feel nervous but the kids have gotten more used to the welcoming treatment and more comfortable talking with the other villagers. Even tuk managed to chat with other kids around her age!

“So…I take it you kids like it?” Jake asks his children, they all nodded eagerly. “Do you feel safe here? Welcomed?” Neytiri asks after him.

“As welcoming as they can get mom” lo’ak grins as he presents her a basket full of unfamiliar fruits and flowers. Kiri snatches a mango from the basket and happily munches on it. “What about you neteyam?” neytiri turns to ask her eldest child.

But neteyam didnt respond, not immediately.

In the center of the moot, there was a ring of young teens, many around his and his siblings' age, dancing and enjoying the moment. Among the youth was danu, who was dancing in a very grateful way. The rhythm of the music flowed around her, keeping up with the pace and matching every beat and note. She looked so lovely with the lighting of the fire. Really hypnotizing really.

Until danu’s eyes met his. Her smile widened more and she makes her way over to neteyam, grabbing his arm tugging him forward. “Come on, dance with me” danu invites. Feeling hesitant, neteyam respectfully tries to deny, “oh no, I dont know how” he says. Earning a little giggle from danu, she tugs him harder making him stand, “it is the way” danu said.

She successfully brings him to the center of the moot where he begins to follow her moves and quickly gets the hang of the dance.

Neytiri and Jake look in awe as they are reminded of their night.

“I believe that answers your question” jake whispers as they take in the full warmth and welcome of the Tawsyuram clan.

Okie this one seriously took me a looooooooooong time! There was so much re-writing and adjusting, I feel like despite how much I did, its not enough to truly cover what I envisioned but I did my best to fit everything in. So I hope you all enjoyed this one! Until next time! See ya!

143 notes · View notes

violetasteracademic · 6 months

Text

On Disrupting the Status Quo: The Archeron Sisters

First of all, I want to thank everyone so much for the love on my previous post! I genuinely thought I was sending a Vassien Hero's Journey dissertation out into the void and not a soul alive would read it. I am thrilled and delighted to have been met with such welcome in this space!

I'll keep this next one short and sweet, (retcon- I did not keep it short and sweet) but one of my additional favorite topics to break down regarding the structure of the Archeron sister's and their journey's is a disruption of the status quo to the world at large. Through their stories of healing, love, and coming into their power, both Feyre and Nesta have tackled a system of patriarchy within Prythian/Illirya and improved conditions for females in a way no one has been able to do before the arrival of the Made Sisters. I truly hope Elain gets her chance to do the same!

Feyre at the beginning of her Hero's Journey: There are no High Ladies. Only males have the power to oversee a court. Feyre, not only through her relationship with Rhys but through her own healing journey and establishing her power, takes his side as an equal. She is High Lady. Feyre showed that females can be more. They do not simply have to sit by the side with no titles or agency and let males fight over who gets to keep them as Lady of their court. They can be equal in power. Even Tarquin, who has his own plans to disrupt power imbalances, was surprised.

And of course, my hope is we got some foreshadowing for more High Ladies to step up with Viviane. She single handedly held the Winter Court together during those harrowing years Under the Mountain, both as a warrior and a leader.

Moving on to Nesta, her Hero's Journey led her to solve a problem that her mate and the High Lord of the Night Court hadn't been able to solve for HUNDREDS of years- getting females training.

More than that, she and Gwyn and Emerie became not only the first females to ever participate in the Blood Rite, but they also won.

By coming into her power and going down her path to accept her life as Fae and heal, The Valkyrie's have been restored and females of any heritage now have a safe space to train without the leering contempt of Devlon and the Illyrians. I certainly hope Illyria continues to progress, but this is a huge start. And it is all because of Nesta and her choice to lean into who she would be in this new life now that she had chosen to face it.

Aaaaand I'm crying. Please hold.

Now we move onto Elain. And this is my question- if Elain is *not* going to disrupt the status quo by challenging the mating bond, by pushing against the expectations of her court to satisfy political conflicts and taking away her agency in who she wants to love, then who is going to do it? And what is going to be done for the females of Prythian who are unhappily mated? What is going to be done for Lady Autumn, for females like Rhy's mother, for all who *tried* to make it work because females have little to no choice in who they are paired with?

*Someone* is going to tell this story. And in doing so, they will not only be making the best choice for themselves, but they are going to challenge the very foundation of another way females are kept in submission like Feyre and Nesta did. They are going to demand that no one else goes through what Feyre did-giving Tamlin the right to wage a war simply by putting a ring on her finger then deciding not to go through with the wedding and leaving him by choice. Someone is going to ask why anyone had the right to sell Lady Autumn into a lifetime of abuse. Why Morrigan was allowed to be sold as a commodity. Someone is going to remember what it felt like to lose their fiancé because the mating bond meant they "belonged" to someone they didn't even know.

Someone is going to say no more. No more of females being political pawns, being objects to be sold and traded, to having their choices stripped and lives controlled over a system that is widely accepted as deeply flawed and not entirely understood.

This story will be told. And if it is not told by Elain Archeron, then I simply ask, who will?

The Archeron sisters are not maintaners.

They are disruptors.

#elriel #pro elain archeron #pro elain #pro elriel #azriel x elain #elriel supremacy #elriel endgame #elain archeron

97 notes · View notes

respectthepetty · 1 year

Text

Be My Favorite, I have something important to tell you.

Seriously. Was it episode four that did it? Episode two? EPISODE ONE?! Or was it even earlier than that? I thought about you daily for a year and a half before you even premiered, so have I loved you all along? I DIDN'T EVEN MUTE THE SINGING! I knew as soon as Kawi was looking for a talent what the outcome would be BUT I DIDN'T PUSH MUTE!

I'm in too deep. I can't stop these feelings now. Not when you gave me this scene at the beginning of the episode where Pisaeng tells Kawi he will be honest about his feelings, and Kawi, looking so small, knows exactly what he is talking about.

Or when you gave me this ENTIRE journey of Pisaeng seeing two men kiss with the multi-colored lighting, and the multi-colored neon sign asking him to evaluate his emotions, and the safe space he lands in front of!

Only to have Pisaeng run away, but return in BROWN. I have a theory that Pear is peach/pink, Pisaeng is black, and Kawi is brown, so Pisaeng going back in the color of the boy who awakened these feelings in him . . . *opens up pint of ice cream and bottle of wine*

Then the fear Pisaeng had running into Max while the song in the background sang, "I'm not afraid to love"

But Piseang showing up the next day (with the closed sign sooooo appropriately placed on his body)

Because Max is the perfect friend even when he doesn't want to be. He told Kawi that everyone treats Kawi with kindness while he is kind of a dick to people, and even though he snapped at Pisaeng for thinking the world revolves around him and his issues, he course-corrected and offered a kind ear to him.

Max presents this character who is visibly queer, and to tell a straight-passing privileged boy that queerness is not a destination or a place, but an answer within ourselves is powerful. Max doesn't have to be kind to Pisaeng, but he is gentle because he realizes the struggle of being judged by appearances.

Max states that he was wrong to judge Pisaeng by his cover, and we got several books in this episode which all showed depths to the characters:

Pear had Behind the Painting - Siburapha's famous work about an arranged marriage, forbidden love, social injustice, and inequality.

Pear also has Ujjeni's book of poems The Golden Horizon, which many of the poems encourage people to keep faith against injustices and to live with an open heart.

Not of all people wrote a book that deals with love.

Kawi has 1984, a story about a society who is constantly monitored by an oppressive government and the way the protagonist actively contributes to its control by rewriting the past.

And I think Max is reading a book about gardening or cooking, but I'm unsure.

But this all leads to the overall point of this episode - Kawi's evolution. Magic won't help him find the answer. He won't find his answer in a destination or a place. The answer to how to improve his life is within him and has always been. Kawi is quick to judge everyone else, yet thinks he was unfairly judged, but the more he matures, the more he will realize HE contributed to his current situation.

Pisaeng was bothered by Not laughing when Kawi sang (he looked over at Not several times). Pisaeng invited Kawi out after their freshmen interviews, but Kawi dismissed him.

Kawi hasn't been kind. Period. He hasn't been kind to himself nor to others. Pisaeng rejected Pear with kindness. Pear rejected Kawi with kindness. But Kawi avoided Max in the past and Pisaeng because of . . . their queerness? What that would imply about him? There are several answers, but he never treated them with kindness. Not is slowly learning this lesson as well. Everyone hates his book, but the second he is shown kindness, he sends it Kawi's way.

Because the point of all of this is that magic doesn't heal people.

Kindness does.

Random sidenotes because I can't be crying in the club: I'm obsessed with this woman and her big black eyes.

And Be My Favorite hasn't faked us out once so far with these previews, so . . .

*pushes play on Fluke Gawin's OST "Unable" while I think about Kawi looking at Pisaeng at practice as he sings about the other person unexpectedly changing his life because I'm UNABLE TO STOP LOVING THIS FUCKING SHOW NOW!*

#I'm in deep #this is going to be a top for me if it keeps this up #Be My Favorite #It is my favorite!#be my favorite the series #episode 5 #pisaeng x kawi #How can I love this show so much?!#When did it start?#Have I loved it forever?#This is like my bisexual awakening all over again!#I knew the feelings were there but now that they are out I can't go back

326 notes · View notes

amhrosina · 2 years

Text

To Be Loved (Namor x f!Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

A/N: I read a Druig fic with this concept like a year ago and it’s stuck with me since then. However, I’ve searched through an entire year’s worth of tumblr fics & ao3 bookmarks, and I still can’t find it. If you know who came up with this concept, PLEASE tag them or let me know! I would like to credit them for the idea! Also, I can’t stop writing Namor (and I won’t, I love that man so much).

Update: A very kind soul found the fic that inspired this one and sent me their @! It was @itsapeterthing who originally wrote this concept and you should definitely check the Druig fic out!

Summary: Reader is an Eternal (you don’t have to know the movie to understand the fic) who can time travel. We follow her as she visits her lover, Namor, in different stages of his life over a 500-year time period.

(Warnings: no big ones, some descriptions of war I guess?, soft!Namor, this is pure fluff like I somehow made myself fall more in love with him writing this??)

Translations:

in yakunaj – my love

pixan – my soul

ki'ichpanech – pretty girl

Namor was being watched, though he didn’t know it yet. As he stood on the outskirts of his mother’s homeland, holding his mother’s body in his arms, the beauty of her memories was tarnished, ripped to shreds by slavers with whips and hatred in their hearts. Namor was a boy of ten and two, barely old enough to grasp the responsibilities he’d inherited in his birth, but strong enough already to understand the gravity of the situation in front of him.

The hatred that burned in his heart mirrored the flames he’d set to his mother’s homelands, his homeland, which had become a falsity so grand that he could no longer contain the rage within him. It was a wound that wouldn’t heal, a festering cesspool of a memory that would play in his mind for years afterwards. This day would go down in his people’s history as the day the boy-king became a man.

From a young age, laying his mother to rest was something Namor knew he was going to have to do, but no amount of time could have prepared him for the overwhelming heartbreak he felt as he laid her down in her final resting place. He remained by her side, content to sit with her body for as long as he pleased, but he knew he would eventually have to return to Talokan.

All the while, an unfamiliar set of eyes peeked at him through the brush. You would not reveal yourself to him, not quite yet. This moment, as important as it was to Namor’s moral compass and the man he would grow to be, was not a moment you felt the need to share with him. You had travelled through time and space to be here, at present-day Namor’s request, and you would not interfere with this moment.

The young Namor, the one that was blissfully unaware of your presence, knelt down and whispered his last goodbyes to the woman who raised him. You remained in your kneeling position amongst the greenery, unwilling to move until you were sure Namor had gone. When the last of his people returned to the sea, you stood, shaking the ache from your knees.

You tapped into your power, the warm hum traveling through your body as you focused on returning to the present, to your home where Namor was likely waiting for you. It was only a snap of your fingers, a quick blink of your eyes, and suddenly you were in familiar territory again.

The walls around you were filled to the brim with Namor’s art, painted over the centuries. They told the story of him, showcasing different memories that he deemed important. The first one, the one you’d just returned from visiting, was a small painting of his mother, lying in her shallow grave.

“How was it, my love?” Namor’s voice carried from the above water chambers you shared, his voice so warm and deep that he might as well have been standing right next to you.

You peeked your head around the corner, spying his relaxed form in his favorite armchair. You had spent hours there, wrapped in his warm embrace. It was your favorite place to be, too.

You scurried forward, eager to take your designated spot in his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his protective hold. You looked down at him, placing a soft kiss on his brow before cupping his cheeks.

“It was informative, my King. I can see why you were so angry when we met.” You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs in an attempt to soothe the ache.

“I spent many years after that day consumed with vengeance. It was only when I met you that I learned I still had the capacity to love.”

“I’m sorry, my love, for the hurt humans have caused your people throughout the years.” You winced at the thought of Namor consumed by anything but love.

“Don’t apologize, in yakunaj. You will see the man I became to protect my people, and you will see me as my enemies saw me. I did not know mercy for a very long time, and I fear you will not like the man I thought I had to be.”

“I will always love you, K’uk’ulkan. Nothing,” you gripped his jaw for emphasis, “will ever change that.”

Namor gripped your hand, pressing his lips into your knuckles. “I am undeserving of it, but I will accept it anyways, pixan. I am greedy like that.”

He smiled, and your heart warmed at the sight. At one point, it had been decades since a smile had graced his beautiful face, so you always cherished the smiles he sent you, even if you got to see it all the time now.

“Where am I going next?” You asked, glancing at the wall of art.

“To our favorite place to hide away, before it was ours.” He nodded to a small, somewhat hidden section of the wall that had always been one of your favorites. You grinned in response.

Namor looked over the landscape in front of him, a little envious of the humans that got to see it every day. The view his hiding spot offered was a spectacular array of gold and red, surrounded by lakes and rivers, and if he didn’t have a million things waiting for him back at home, he might want to appreciate it more. The sea was his home, but he couldn’t help the desire to explore the surface every once in a while.

Home. The empire he had built with his bare hands. Hidden from the world, protected from human interference. Namor was proud of his people and what they had achieved, but he had spent so many years fueled by anger that he feared he may have forgotten the beauty of living along the way. He was lonely, and he could not let this weakness lead his people into their graves. This hiding place was a respite from all of that, but the loneliness tended to follow him here.

A sharp buzzing interrupted his thoughts, and he swung around, ready to defend himself. A being, no – a woman, stepped into the clearing. Namor studied her. A human? No. He could feel the power drumming in her veins, and he tried to make sense of her human-looking face. A threat? Maybe.

You raised your hands in an innocent gesture. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Namor couldn’t stop the chuckle from leaving his throat. No one, no one, could hurt him.

“Who are you?” He pointed his spear at your heart, ready to drive it deep in your chest at the slightest movement.

You murmured your name. “We’ve met before.”

“I think I would remember meeting you.” His brow furrowed.

“Not yet, I mean. It won’t happen for another few centuries.”

Namor’s confusion grew, and you reached towards your sleeve, rolling it up a few inches. The bracelet Namor had given you was tied around your wrist, and you held it up for his inspection. He balked. That was his mother’s bracelet, and he knew for a fact that it was tucked away in a safe space, miles under the sea.

“You gave it to me a few years ago. You sent me here, K’uk’ulkan, many years in the future. It’s hard to explain.” You scratched the back of your neck. “The paintings on your cavern walls tell a story, and he, you, wanted me to experience them with him, er, you. Is this making any sense?”

Namor eyed you carefully but lowered his spear.

“I feel your power, deep in here,” he gestured to his chest, “but I do not understand it. It’s different from mine.”

You smiled and lifted your hand, allowing a tiny sliver of your power to form into a ball in your palm. A stark yellow lit the clearing. The orb pulsed with power, and Namor took a step forward. Present-day Namor was also enamored with the way your power manifested and loved watching you create different shapes with it in your palm.

Namor stepped closer, watching the orb float in the space above your hand.

“How?” He asked, flicking his gaze up at you.

“You will understand it, one day, in yakunaj.” You fell into your natural pattern with him, even though the man standing in front of you was centuries away from the man you knew and loved.

Namor startled at your ability to speak his language so easily, and then inhaled sharply when he realized what you had just called him. He knew he should’ve been hightailing it home by now. This display of power could mean trouble for his people, and it was his duty to protect them, but the gentle caress of your power in his chest rooted him to the spot. His curiosity always did get the best of him.

“You speak my language?” He asked in his mother tongue, too enthralled with you to worry about the rules he was breaking by doing so.

You nodded, watching as the power faded back into your hand. “I know many languages.”

“We are...together in your time?” He asked, looking over you again.

“Yes. We are bonded, though that probably doesn’t mean anything to you right now. It will, one day.” You paused. “I must return to my time.” You gestured towards the forest, even though you didn’t technically have to move your body anywhere to jump forward in time.

“Will I see you again? Before we officially meet?” He asked, taking a step closer to you.

“Would you like to see me again?” You returned, tilting your head curiously.

“Yes.” Namor said bluntly.

“Then you will see me again, in yakunaj.”

In a flash, you were gone, and Namor spent a long moment staring at the spot you had been standing in moments before. He wondered how long he would have to wait to see you again and hoped it wouldn’t be too long of a wait.

Namor waited decades for you, searching for you in every face he came across. His cousin and closest confidante, Namora, didn’t miss the excitement buzzing under his skin every time he had to leave for the surface. He finally told her of your existence after years of holding the secret close to his heart. She was cautious, warning him of the surface dweller’s wrongdoings, but he couldn’t think of you in the same way that he thought of them. You were different, gentler, and he spent the vast majority of his free time thinking about you.

The night that you finally reappeared was a night of celebration for his people. It was Winter Solstice – the one night of the year that his people freely travelled between the sea and the sand. It was always a huge party, but he had spent the majority of it stewing in his longing for you. He had almost convinced himself you were a dream of his when you appeared.

You stood towards the back of the crowd, looking up at the stars. Namor’s heart thundered in his chest as he approached you, unsure of what to say to the person he had spent the last 80 years of his life longing to see. Fortunately, you spoke first, and he wondered if it was possible to fall in love with someone after only meeting them once.

“There are so many stars here. The doesn't look like this anymore, where I’m from. The surface dwellers have many flaws, and I think that is probably their worst transgression.”

Namor said the only thing that he could think of in response.

“I missed you.”

You smiled bashfully, turning to look at him for the first time in 80 years.

“I know. Thank you for being patient, in yakunaj. I go where he sends me, and there is always a good reason for it.”

“Is he...like me? I mean, are we the same, or do you see us as different people?”

“That is a hard question. You are the same Namor I know, but you are also different. At your core, though, you are the same man that I love in my time.”

You looked back at the sky, shifting your body to stand next to his. A somber expression formed on your face, and he couldn’t help but brush the back of his hand against yours.

“What is it, ki'ichpanech?”

“I want you to enjoy this night, in yakunaj, because you will not have another one this easy for a very long time.”

A cold chill ran down Namor’s spine. The conviction in which you spoke left little room for denial, and he could not ignore the uneasy feeling building in his stomach.

“What do you mean?” He finally asked, breathing deeply.

“I mean,” you paused, linking your pinky in his, “he chose this moment for me to visit for a reason. I cannot tell you details, because even I do not know them, but you will have to face an unimaginable threat, and it will be very hard for you. I will not return until after the carnage, and I want you to enjoy tonight, because you will have a hard time enjoying anything for many years afterwards.”

He looked out into the sea, processing your warning. He wasn’t aware of any threats to his people, but the pleading look in your eyes told him he would soon face horrors, maybe outright war.

“How long will it be before I see you again?” He asked, taking your hand in his and lightly squeezing it.

“Do not worry about such trivial things, in yakunaj. Everything will right itself in time.”

Your tone left no room for argument, not that Namor would want to argue with you anyways. You tugged him further away from the crowd, turning to face him after the darkness had blanketed you from the light of the party. You rested your palms on his cheeks, pulling his forehead down and pressing it against yours.

“Be strong, my King. You will be pushed beyond what you believe your strength to be, but do not let that break you. You are a force to be reckoned with, and you will do anything to protect your people. Remember your strength, and above all, remember that there is love in your heart, even if you cannot feel it yet.”

You pushed your lips against his in a chaste motion. It was over before it had even begun, and when Namor opened his eyes, you were gone. Namor clutched his chest, attempting to remember the feeling of your body against his.

Your warning rang true a few days later, when the borders of Talokan were breached for the first time in its history. The water surrounding the city remained a misty red for months afterward.

Namor pushed his spear deeper into the chest of the enemy King, finally ending the slaughter that had plagued him and his people for many years. The jungle around him rang with a silence so sickening that he fell to his knees. He hung his head low, exhausted from the fight. You had been right about everything, and the only thing that had kept him fighting for this moment of triumph was the speech you’d given him all those years ago.

The guilt of his warrior’s deaths weighed heavily on his shoulders. It didn’t seem fair, that he would continue living after so many of his people had to mourn the loss of their family members. Their family members, who had died fighting his fight. The weight was almost too much to bear, and he was suddenly glad that he was alone.

His people did not deserve to see his pity-party. He slammed his fists into the ground, letting out a brutish grunt. It was over, but his mind was still reeling. The sound of your soft footsteps brought him out of his rage.

“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice was hoarse as he pleaded with you not to see him like this.

“I am here, all the same.” You waved your hand in a nonchalant motion, lowering your body into a kneeling position in front of him.

He couldn’t look at you. The awfulness of what he had done, of the person he had to become to defeat this threat was so far beneath you, and he couldn’t imagine anyone loving the broken man he had become. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and he squeezed them shut to stop them from falling.

“You should go.” He pleaded with you, shaking his head at the thought of you being so close to the gory battlefield he had just fought on.

“I will not leave you, in yakunaj, just as you would not leave me if our positions were switched.”

You reached forward, gently wrapping your hands around his wrists. The steady drum of your power grounded his thoughts for a moment, and he prayed to the universe that your touch wouldn’t leave him. He didn’t move for what felt like hours, cherishing the warmth in his chest at having you so close to him after so long.

“I cannot stand being apart from you like this.” He mumbled, head still hung low.

“It is not for much longer, my King. One day, not so far in the future, we will be together.”

“How much longer must I live with this torment of longing I feel when you’re gone?”

You cupped his cheeks, swiping at the dirt and grime that coated his face with your thumbs.

“Soon, my love. I promise.”

You walked with him as he made his way back to the sea, the urge within him to return home too strong to deny any longer. There weren’t many words spoken between the two of you, but words didn’t seem necessary. You were here, and you were a gentle reminder that his future was bright, and that’s all that mattered to him at the moment.

When Namor stepped onto the beach, the bobbing heads of Namora and Attuma a few hundred yards out at sea caught his eye. They would return to Talokan with the news that their King had come out triumphant, and that the war was officially over.

You watched as their heads dipped below the surface before facing him.

“I have been gone for too long. I must go.” Namor’s grip on your hands tightened, unwilling to let you go so soon.

“Stay. Please stay.”

You smiled warmly, bringing his knuckles to your lips. “I cannot, in yakunaj. I must return to the present. But I will leave you with a gift, so that you don’t forget me while I’m gone.”

“I could never forget you, ki'ichpanech. Even if you don’t return for 1,000 years, I will still remember you.”

You smiled, pulling your hands out of his. You cupped your palms together, tapping into your power until the yellow orb appeared, floating between the two of you.

“Take this with you. It will shine brightly in Talokan. Bring your people the sun, K’uk’ulkan, after the dark times this war has brought with it.” You pushed the orb into his hands, releasing the speck of power from your being.

Namor gasped, shaking his head. “I cannot do that. This is yours.” He tried to push it back into your chest, but you wouldn’t accept it.

“It will be mine again, one day, in yakunaj. Until then, let it guide your people. Let it guide your heart.”

Namor looked at you, wide eyed. The orb floated around his body, refusing to move further than a few inches from his skin.

“I do not know what to say, ki'ichpanech, other than that I am undeserving of this gift.”

“You will take it anyway,” you say, patting the area of his chest near his heart. Your hand lingered on his skin, and he could not stop himself from crashing his lips into yours. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He held you tightly against his body, arms wrapped fully around your waist in a tight embrace.

You pulled away, gently cradling his face. “Stay safe, my King. I will see you soon.”

Namor stumbled forward in your sudden absence, and he couldn’t help the frustrated grunt he let out. Soon had better be soon, or he’d start scouring the Earth for signs of you.

Namor had not expected to see you so soon. It had only been a few years since your last encounter, and after the enormous stints of time between your previous meetings, he had not expected you for another few decades. An enormous eruption from the sea had beckoned him far from Talokan, the furthest he’d been from his home in years.

Something was different this time. Unlike your previous appearances, where you’d appeared seemingly out of thin air, this time you were accompanied by a small group of people. Your hair was disheveled, and it looked like you and the people around you had been fighting something, something huge.

He rushed onto the beach towards you. If there was a threat to you, he’d eliminate it faster than you could blink. It wasn’t so much a choice, but more of an instinct. He stumbled forward when he felt the full brunt of power between you and your friends.

Oh. They were like you.

Your friends stiffened when they noticed him, but your smile was the only thing he could focus on as he made his way towards you. This felt different because it was different. You weren’t here from your present. This was the present, and he was about to officially meet you. He was suddenly glad you hadn’t told him the details of your first meeting because he hadn’t had time to grow anxious about it.

You met him halfway across the beach, jumping into his arms when you got close enough to reach him. He pulled you into a hug, wondering if he could get away with never letting go of you again.

“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but we’ve met before, ki'ichpanech.” He mumbled into your ear.

“Yes, we have.” You let out a light laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Namor’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out how this version of you could know who he was, or how you would know about your previous meetings since they technically hadn’t happened yet. He shook his head. The thought of it gave him a headache, and he wasn’t going to try and figure that one out on his own.

“You are here to stay, right?” He asked, hopeful.

“Yes, in yakunaj, I’m here to stay.”

Namor kissed you sweetly, arms still wrapped around you. He wouldn’t be letting go of you for a while, and you seemed perfectly okay with that.

When you stumbled back into the present for the final time, Namor was stretched out in the bed you shared with him. It was late, much later than you had intended on being, and you opened your mouth to explain your absence before realizing that Namor would remember the encounter with you, and likely already understood why you had been gone for so long. You crawled into the bed next to him, pressing a kiss into his bare shoulder before cuddling into his side.

“Now you have seen me at my worst.” Namor’s voice was a hushed whisper against the late hour.

“I love you, even at your worst, in yakunaj.” You responded in an equally hushed tone.

He pulled you closer, angling his body so that he could wrap you into a hug, and you shuttered against him. He was always so warm, and never once complained about how cold your skin was.

“You are my greatest inspiration, ki'ichpanech. You are my strength and my love. My people are very lucky to have you as their queen. I cannot express the love I have for you in here.” He tapped his chest, resting his head on the top of yours.

“You are an unbelievable sap, Namor.” You chuckled, nuzzling your face into his chest. “I love you even more for it, though.”

End Note: I really really love how this came out. I hope you enjoyed it! Either way, thank you for reading!

Tag List (Click here to join!):

@thatlesbosimp @legocity2 @softclue @violet-19999 @uwiuwi @omgsuperstarg @purpleetou @raeluvsbloodline @historygeekgueen @kneelarhmstrung @euphoricjupiter @kneelarhmstrung @ethereal-athalia @quackson03 @johfaam @messymissy @husherstan @quackimilktea @certifiedhunter @shoxji @dazecrea @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @layazul

939 notes · View notes

luna-rainbow · 1 year

Note

I've been reading through the posts and anons regarding Bucky's characterisation in FATWS and I couldn't agree more with your responses.

I think the deep dives and theories from some of the anons on how the writing for Bucky could be spun if we really wanted to are interesting and well intentioned but when I look at what was actually presented, I finished FATWS feeling like I was supposed to view Bucky as a reformed villain who was looking for redemption and that I was supposed to root for him now that he was on the right path and making choices to atone for his sins and make right for his life of crime ---and, considering Bucky was a victim, that did not sit right with me at all. I find it hard to believe that someone could have watched Bucky's story from the beginning and not rooted for him the whole way through.

I actually found the attempts to villainise him a disgusting narrative choice.

This was not an arc about a victim healing, it was an arc about an assassin looking for redemption.

So I think that even if the attempt was to show the shadiness of the government or to portray it as Bucky's misplaced guilt being the driving force, it ultimately doesn't matter because that's not how the narrative presented it. Bucky makes a lot of statements that signify his own feelings of guilt and low sense of self worth 'the power I gave her' 'I know crazy because I am crazy' the conversation he has with Sam about why he has to be the one to talk to Zemo--and none of these statements are shot down, not even by Sam who is supposed to be our hero and experienced PTSD therapist. In fact, Sam even encourages Bucky's negative self image at points with lines like 'even him, and he's killed everyone he's ever met' (which is why I'll also argue that Sam is mischaracterised in this show too)

That's because the narrative wants us to take Bucky's guilt at face value, they want us to see this as a matter fact and something that Bucky has to redeem himself from in order to reach his goal of feeling worthy and human again. They want Bucky's guilt to be a point both he and the audience agree on.

While the narrative leaves space for us to counter its perception of Bucky and his level (or lack) of responsibility for things that The Winter Soldier did--it does nothing to counter its own assumption that Bucky should be considered complicit in the things he was forced to do by Hydra.

We are told some form of this by everyone from Zemo to Sharon to Karli to Raynor to Isaiah to even Sam.

Even when Bucky finally breaks and openly admits that he's beginning to question Steve's faith in him, there is no response to counter his lack of self belief. Neither Sam nor Raynor argue the matter.

During the one moment that the writing could have explicitly made it clear that the narrative viewed Bucky as a victim of Hydra instead of the villian he believes himself to be, we got blank space instead. They could have expanded on the scene between him and Yori and used the father of one of The Winter Soldier's targets to make the point that Bucky was a victim too but instead, we got the implication that Yori was yet another person seeing him as the same monster that Bucky believes himself to be.

So when we take the writing as it actually is, we are left with Bucky believing he is responsible for the crimes that Hydra committed using The Winter Soldier. We are left with no one countering his belief, we are in fact left with both our protagonists and antagonists equally reinforcing Bucky's guilt and self-portrayal as a reforming villain and we are left with Bucky learning that he has to pay for what 'he' did by living in service of those 'he' hurt.

That is what the narrative tells us about Bucky Barnes in FATWS. That is what the character of Bucky Barnes tells us in FATWS, that is what the other characters tell us about Bucky Barnes in FATWS--and we have nothing within the narrative of FATWS that leads us to believe otherwise.

Hello lovely! I'm not sure how I missed this post although I did have a lot of personal stuff going on a few months ago and maybe I shelved it for a time I could reply properly, so apologies for the delay!

All excellent points up there.

Back during the height of the TFATWS discourse (mostly stemming from the fact that several of us were trying to write fix-its and just couldn't make the canon make sense), one of the key points of contention was between fans who felt the narrative fell short in addressing Bucky's lack of agency and therefore lack of liability for the Winter Soldier's crimes, vs other fans who felt Steve's one line in CACW "it wasn't your fault" was enough and hence his lack of agency did not need to be raised again in TFATWS.

But you are absolutely right. The narrative frames Bucky as guilty and volatile, and it does nothing to dispose the viewers otherwise. None of the characters treat him in a way that suggests any empathy for his status as a prisoner of war, only something bordering on derision that he's been spared punishment.

Which, I think, accurately reflects how most of the MCU writers have spoken of him.

#bucky barnes #asks #tfatws critical

158 notes · View notes

talonabraxas · 2 months

Text

Ehecatl : God of Winds

Ehecatl: Ignite your Passion

Ehecatl-Quetzalcoal (Ehecat) is the Aztec God of invisibility and intangibility who oversees the mysteries of passion and love.

In order to fully understand adult love one must experience loss in a personal manner. This takes place at all levels in our life. Last week the day Winds of Spirit arrived by UPS, I experienced a few losses as well: the front gates which house my former Healing Arts Center were stolen; my boss who provided the space to write the book took a new job at another company; and a tenant is leaving. Winds seek balance, and intensity will always swing towards disappointment or lethargy, then back again.

Seeds of passion sometimes grow in the ashes of disappointment, and later blossom into fragrant spring lilies. Like the wind, love, passion and relationships are also mysterious forces.

Aztec cosmology is built on the framework that there are five suns. Each sun represents a creation story in which humans are born, sustained and destroyed by the elements of nature; earth, wind, fire, water, and earthquake respectively. Ehecatl is one of the many faces of the Quetzalcoatl, the famed feathered serpent deity. In Nahuatl, Ehecatl means four winds, referring to the four cardinal directions.

Ehecatl presided over the second sun of creation that was called, “4 Wind.” During this period, human beings fell from the grace of the Gods and were destroyed by a hurricane. As Ehecatl blew, it swept away the debris, and those who survived were transformed into monkeys. Ehecatl reappeared in the Fifth Sun after the world was destroyed by fire.

Ehecatl traveled deep into the underworld and persuaded Mictlantecuhtili, the God of Death, to give back some ashes and bone. Ehectal mixed the bone with blood from the Gods and created humanity.

According to Aztec legend, Ehecatl snuck into the lower world, abducted the maiden Mayahuel, and brought her to the middle world. Their passion was so great that they became one and merged into a tree. Upon awaking from sleep Tzetzimutl journeyed to the middle world, pulled the lovers apart, shredded her grand daughter Mayahuel into pulp, and then returned Ehecatl to his rightful place in the wind.

”Whenever the wind blows, the Aztec believes it is an expression of Ehecatl’s desire.”

If Ehecatl appears as a longing East wind, it is time to listen closely to your heart.

East

If Ehecatl appears as a longing East wind, it is time to listen closely to your heart. New projects, new lovers, art and/or music will ignite your passion.

As a contrary wind, Ehecatl can remove worn-out love stories and soured memories that are preventing you from experiencing a new cosmic order in your life. It is time to examine your beliefs regarding love.

South

Ehecatl is fanning the flames of your innermost feelings and hidden desires. A willingness to love again will arise from the ashes. You are worthy of love and passion. Allow the mysterious thread of the universe to carry you into the next cycle.

Unlike Ehecatl, who was molded from a stone knife, you are an emotional being who thrives on love. In the contrary position, a howling Ehecatl is prompting you to open your heart to love. There is a wind-stirring deep within asking you to soften your heart in order to forgive those who have harmed you. Now is the time to heal the emotional scars left behind by abuse, loss, or abandonment.

West

Ehecatl brings the rains to nourish your crops, signaling the end of the dry season. Wash away your inhibitions, and rejuvenate your body with physical activity. Celebrate by dancing, hiking, gardening, swimming or sex.

When Ehecatl appears in the reverse position you are being offered forbidden fruit, so be alert and cautious. The sun may set on your goals if you merge with the wrong energies, as in the tale of Ehectal and Mayahuel.

Misguided passion and intrigue might pull you from your true path if you do not establish clear boundaries. Ask Ehecatl to help you to sweep away any blocks that stand between you and a bountiful harvest.

North

When Ehecatl blows in from the North, it is a sign that invisible forces are at work in your life. A soul mate isn’t necessarily your lover; it might be someone who has your back, no matter what troubles you may be facing. Enrich your life by connecting deeply with the people you love, and with those who have your best interests at heart.

In the contrary position Ehecatl points out that you are neglecting certain daily rituals which prevent you from keeping your spiritual life in order. Ask Ehecatl to help you understand the deeper aspects of your true self. It might be something as simple as rearranging your altar, planning a vacation or going on a spiritual retreat. Ehecatl : God of Winds ART: Corazon Mexica @MiCorazonMexica

The creation of bats. This is a new painting, which is part of a cycle of paintings that tell the story of the birth of flowers. It begins with Quetzalcoatl, who is the wind and creation, pleasuring himself on the banks of a river. His seed falls upon a stone, and from the stone is born the first bat. When the bat emerges from the stone, he asks it to go to Tamoanchan, the 12th heaven, and bring him back the “flower” of Xochiquetzal, who is love and flowers. The bat is thus the child of the wind and of the earth, and the story goes on to describe this theft, and describe the origin of flowers and menstruation.

46 notes · View notes

somberjoon · 8 months

Text

METANOIA [1]

✩ pairing: hybrid nj x hybrid reader (f) - eventual ot7 x reader

✩ genre: soul-searching , romance🔞 , found-family , healing , angst , happy ending

✩ word count: 4.4k

✩ chapter warnings: mention of murder , uncertainty in behavior and emotions , 'pups' used as an overall label - children and breeds will be specified when important. (none of the mcs are parents)

✩ summary: She doesn't know. There is so much about her and her cheetah that she hasn't had the privilege to understand. Unknown backgrounds and unknown emotions clash with feelings of want- hopes of being herself unapologetically. Namjoon seems to be someone that can help her- but can the rest of his pack truly be what she has wanted and needed?

✩ cover: me

ch.1 , ch.2 , ...

✩ disclaimer: this is an opening chapter to the story. backgrounds and personality for the fmc are vague on purpose. You will go on this journey with her. The importance of events and scenarios will be later brought back up. Not everything is as it seems.

Y/N - Unknown Time

Nobody really prepares you to kill someone. Not everyone will have a mentor that teaches you where to stab, where to shoot, where and how tight you need to push to crush a windpipe. But, sometimes you do get taught- unknowingly at least. You know skin is thin under a sharp knife, putting you much closer to vital organs than you would think. You know, at least, that you need air and blood to live- but, you also know you can take it. You can rid the body of its most vital necessities.

As Y/N stands over the lifeless body of her once guardian- her now very dead guardian- she realizes that nothing could’ve prepared her for how easy it was.

Kim Namjoon - Present Day

“There was a new case over the weekend Namjoon, we think you’d be great to be the first volunteer if you’d like.”

Zade hands Namjoon a manilla envelope over the lifted counter that looms over the ‘Resource’ front desk.

“I’ll take a look over it while I change. Would I need to do multiple stops today with the other kids on the list?” Namjoon tucks the envelope under his arm as he jots down his info into the volunteer sheet laid out for the day. A surprisingly long list of volunteer’s names gives him a little pep.

“We actually have more volunteers than necessary, so the foster homes are double stacked today. You just have this one as a priority if you’re up for it- oh and this one is a little…special. I mean- they all are, but this one isn’t as young as you’re used to, so the boss told me to tell you to really read it over and consider it.”

“Alright, thank you for letting me know. I’ll let you know in a bit.”

The locker room is just slightly warmer than usual, evidence that multiple bodies have been in and out of the small space far more frequently than normal.

He has no issue with it, if anything he’s excited to think of everyone getting the attention they need today, especially the younger kids that always look forward to young adults spending time with them. The foster homes have other kids, but the age range isn’t as large as one would hope in an adjusting environment. The young pups always need a variety of species and ages when they’re growing, especially when they don’t have a specified pack to normally grow with.

Namjoon feels extremely lucky to have as large of a pack as he does, love circulating within a seven member pack is truly limitless- growing his need to give back to others with care and time. Especially the little pups that are sadly without a pack. He’s never done any volunteer work with anyone older than 18, and even then, the ones over 15 were too busy working when they wanted to or going to school during the day- so the time spent together was minimal. The younger pups always get the most attention, especially because those are the cards the organization is dealt. When pups become of age, they can choose to further their education, with funding help, or they can work until they figure out what they want to do, also being provided resources to find hybrid-friendly employers. If this case is older than usual, he’s curious to see just what could be the reason.

Namjoon changes from his personal clothes into scent-less volunteer clothes. The simple t-shirt, jacket, and jeans allow for the homes to not be crowded with scents from a pack, but to allow the volunteer’s scent to be memorized and clear. He changes before he even decides on the case, knowing in his heart that if the case is in the organization’s hands they must need this adjustment and type of therapy in some type of way- making him the person that can help. He’ll always help when he has the chance.

The manilla envelope is sealed with the customary buttons and string wrapped around to keep the paper in and harder to access than a normal folder. The direction of the string confuses Namjoon only a couple of times before he finally gets the papers out.

Name: Y/N L/N Sex: Female Age: 25 Birth Date: N/A

Blood Type: N/A Breed: Cheetah

Immediate Reason for Admittance: Found resting under ‘Hope Bridge’ by a volunteer off-duty.

Known Background: Parents unknown - Family unknown - Home unknown - Reason for lack of living needs unknown.

Assigned Residence: Caddel Household - Maria Caddel, Richard Caddel - Under file for 4 months - 1450 Madison Lane, Tree County.

Notes: Made by Dr. Selena Castillo

‘Patient admitted without any resistance but shows signs of skittish behaviors. Patient seems to be unused to hybrid counterparts and interactions. Expedited tests still under review for any diagnosis / allergies, but immediate tests show no illness or disease. Slight chill and stuffy nose were only signs of sickness, specific medication given with no sign of allergy. No known vaccinations since birth, first round given to patient - 07/15/23 - day of admittance. Vaccinations may cause patience uncomfort and slight sickness as the adjustment period for vaccines is unknown for their body. Next vaccines needed after - 12/15/23. To be updated accordingly.’

Volunteers must be aware of body language of patient and person at all times - slow adjustment needed - report all incidents to the organization the day of.

Namjoon reads the paper over four or five times to get a really good grasp of who Y/N is, but nothing can prepare him thoroughly for this one- not even the notes know anything, no one has gotten any answers. He thinks of the work that he’s done previously, the pups he’s met and the difference in all of them but the basic underlyings that come with being a young hybrid. If Y/N is unused to hybrid counterparts, there is a chance that he can approach this with the same speed and attentive micro-expressions.

He thinks and thinks, but nothing in him points to ‘no’, so he stuffs the papers back into the envelope and locks his stuff away in his personal locker before heading to the front desk. Zade and his adorable bunny ears perk up as Namjoon walks back towards the desk- reminding Namjoon of his little bunny at home that he misses so much.

“So?” Zade asks, hopeful look in his eyes that also reminds him of his Jungkookie- it must be a bunny thing, because truly it is insane how similar they are in mannerisms.

“Of course I’ll go.” Namjoon gives with a smile, “Can I get some extra note papers? I’ll make sure to take a lot even if we don’t get to anything drastic today. There aren't too many behavior specifics so I’d like to add to them.”

Zade fishes some papers in the top drawer of a file cabinet without a question.

“Mila also wanted me to remind you to keep your phone on vibrate- they seem to have no knowledge of devices either, so sudden loud noises might be a trigger.”

“Of course boss, don’t worry. I’ll message you when I get to the residence.”

He loves this county. It was the main reason he decided to search and wait for a large enough home for his pack here. The name is spot on. A variety of large trees allow their branches and leaves to billow over home yards by fours and fives, allowing sun to peek through while still providing shade for cool leisure in the hot seasons. It smells perfectly no matter where you are. The lawns are plush and soft despite the variety of species growing. It’s perfect really. And he finds it quite nice that Y/N has a place like this to enjoy nature in times of need.

He passes his own street to get to the street where the residence is, a medium, dark blue house that has two trees in the front yard alone- the type has flaccid branches that seem to have dew drop leaves that rain down the branches and block the front of the house beautifully.

He wastes no time organizing his papers into the jockey box and changing both his personal phone and work phone to vibrate after sending a quick message to Zade. He grabs the paper bag of goodies he picked up before he made it to his destination then hurries out of his car.

The path to the front door is paved with an array of colorful rocks that also take Namjoon’s attention, admiring the details of the land. The off-white door had a glass pane design at the top, a bloomed flower.

He gives a few light knocks to let the owners know that the company outside their door isn’t just a rushed mail man or delivery driver. It doesn’t take long for a kind looking woman to open the door with a smile.

“Hello?”

“Hi, my name is Namjoon, I’m a volunteer with the hybrid re-homing organization. I’m here for the ‘recommended time with hybrid’ adjustment.” Namjoon gives his signature smile with dimples, his second ears twitching to make out the sounds coming from inside the home out of habit.

“Oh! Of course, I apologize, I wasn’t paying attention to the time. Come in, come in. There’s slippers for you right here.” Namjoon slips out of his simple dunks, noting the clean array of shoes and the clean foyer of the house. “Y/N’s just out back, she has been out there almost all times of the day since she got here.”

“It’s a beautiful neighborhood, I can see why. By the way, do you know what type of tree you have out front? They’re gorgeous.”

“Willows. Richard wants to cut them down because he hates cleaning up the leaves in Autumn, but I love them too much- plus it gets too hot and even he finds himself using their shade in the Summer.”

“I think keeping them would be lovely-” Namjoon finds the homeowner already heading towards sliding glass doors, “Mrs.Caddel-”

“Just Maria is fine, sweety.”

“Maria, I think it’s best that I start the meeting with those she’s familiar with, but once we get things going I’ll suggest verbally and obviously what my plans are, just so everything is clear for her and you guys. Is there anything I should be aware of before we head out? Like changes in behavior since she arrived, or triggers that you guys have noticed?”

“Oh, um not really, actually. She isn’t too talkative, she doesn’t initiate conversation easily at all and she’s not been reactive to anything specifically. She doesn’t like loud noises though, and doesn’t care to answer all questions. But, she’s friendly and considerate even if she doesn’t know it or acknowledge it for what it is. I think praise is great in those times.”

Namjoon is glad Y/N has someone so attentive to her unknown personality and needs.

“That’s perfect, thank you. We should be good to go then. If you can introduce me yourself that would be great.” Namjoon’s smile lights up at her assured nod and continuance to the sliding doors.

The backyard is a mirrored image of the front lawn but with more trees and a pretty, small garden that looks well-tended to. Even a large, above ground pool sits in the unshaded area of the yard, practically perfectly in the middle of the yard.

“Y/N?” Maria asks loud enough for the whole yard to hear, but not loud enough to startle her. “We have a guest if you’re up to meet them, sweety.”

Namjoon’s hearing can pinpoint in the yard where she’s at but he pays attention to the rest of the yard as not to look expectant for anything.

He looks at the specific shade of stain on the fence as he sees little golden ears and the top of a head of dark brown hair that peeks around one of the larger trees. The dark, long, curly hair cascades off her shoulder. Namjoon only lets the bare details reach his conscience from the corner of his eyes as she still seems to be assessing him.

“Ah, there she is.” Maria says with a smile as Y/N makes her way towards them at a leisurely pace. Namjoon still keeps his eyes on the horizon even if she’s at the perfect distance to assess. The only detail that he can point out at the moment is her gold and black tail, not waving or wrapped around herself in comfort, but dragging along the ground behind her as if she’s forgotten it. His heart clenches at the realization. She stops at a distance that seems cautious, but shows comfort with her guardian.

“Y/N, this is Namjoon, he’s with the re-homing organization.” Namjoon finally meets her eyes to find her gaze locked on his ears, then moves to roam his features without hesitance. “He’s a…I’m sorry dear, I didn’t get your species or breed.”

“Wolf, Alexander Archipelago, to be exact.”

“How precious, Namjoon meet Y/N.”

Her eyes finally meet his, but they don’t tell Namjoon anything about how she feels or what she thinks of him and his wolf. His smile grows at her curiosity, though.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m sorry I didn’t know specifics- and I’m sorry to assume- but I brought some treats if you guys would prefer to sit down and talk?” Namjoon holds up the bag, giving it a little wave and his precious dimples for convincing.

Y/N meets Maria’s soft, asking gaze and nods once before heading for the picnic table on her own to plop down. Maria gives him a discreet smile before waving him on to join. Before he sits opposite to the two, he pulls out a 6-pack of individual lemonades, pre-cut watermelon, pineapple, and cucumbers.

“I tried for stuff that suits the weather and wouldn’t be too hard on the stomach. And- like I said- I didn’t want to assume, but one of the cheetahs I know loves watermelon, so I thought I’d try that at least.”

Namjoon looks at them as he speaks, noting the pick up Y/N seems to slightly show at the mention of the watermelon and then again at the mention of another cheetah. This is the best way he could think of introducing himself. He always acts as himself, open and chipper, but gifts are even better. They’re memorable, even if it’s just a breed’s favorite food, a soft blanket or slippers, or a toy for the pups.

Respectful comfort is also very important when in another person’s space. Showing that you open the things you got them to hand out and to talk in times of silence shows your want to be there and the excitement you have of being in their presence. Namjoon opens the bowls of finger food and even breaks the seals on the lemonades for convenience before setting them in front of them on the table.

“Thank you, Namjoon.” Maria points out after he finally sits and grabs a piece of pineapple to pop into his mouth.

“Of course, have as much as you’d like, it’s yours to keep if we don’t finish anything.”

Y/N - Present Day

He’s too kind. Too smiley. Too…perfect.

“Of course, have as much as you’d like…” She’s never seen anyone like him. Pretty and nice. It’s never both, but- here is the first wolf she’s ever seen with the most perfect smile and manners. To be fair, she can’t compare him to all hybrids- she’s never been around them before- at least, she doesn’t remember.

The opened watermelon takes her attention over the quiet talking between Maria and Namjoon. She truly doesn’t care about the conversation when it’s tempting her so badly. She’s extremely obvious, she knows it- but when Namjoon pushes the bowl discreetly towards her she can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed.

She takes a piece, nonetheless, sniffing the sweet aroma from the juice before popping the whole thing in her mouth at once. The taste is perfect, the piece is sweet, yet cold and crunchy. The juice explodes as she bites.

“Mmph-” The sound leaves her with no warning. She looks up from under her eyelashes at the new stranger, ears twitching to hear any change in his attitude upon bringing more attention to the sound. But- he doesn’t bring attention to it, only gives her another pretty smile and goes to take a drink of his lemonade. She’s never tried lemonade. She puts her attention on that, opening the bottle instead of daring to look at Namjoon’s exposed neck. She takes a small tentative sip, worried about how strong the citrusy smell is to her nose.

“Oh my god.”

“Good, right?” Namjoon asks suddenly. She looks up at him, her own expression in awe. She can only nod as she takes a greedy gulp. “These are my favorite, I keep a ton of packs in stock at home.” Home. She can’t help but suppress a shudder at the word despite the mood being good. She pushes through though- determined to give something back since he’s been so nice.

“I’ve never had lemonade before.” She gives just above a whisper, “I don’t like lemons, I didn’t know they could taste like this.” It wasn’t supposed to be funny, but she shocks a little when Namjoon giggles- actually giggles- at what she said.

“Yeah, I had that problem starting highschool, that was when I finally had a school lunch for the first time. Sadly, that was not as pleasant as this.” Maria laughs, but Y/N can only give a small smile because she doesn’t know if the food would be bad. She’s not that picky but she didn’t even get to go to school or have their lunches, so she can only imagine the type of food that Maria teaches her to make.

“Do you have more favorite foods?” Y/N asks quietly, curious, having to shove some curls out of her face to beat the sweat building on her forehead despite the love of the warmth. She shoves down the need to wipe the sweat just out of self-conscious habits. Everyone sweats, it’s hot- but, Namjoon looks perfect, and she somehow can’t get past that part.

“Mmm-” His face contorts to show another expression she has never seen, a thinking face that scrunches up cutely. She looks away again and pops some more watermelon pieces into her mouth just so she doesn’t have to think too much about it. “I’m more of a beverage person, but I’ll eat literally anything my hyung makes- he’s great at cooking. Do you have any preferences?”

Y/N barely has to think, the first word pulls itself out without warning.

“Watermelon.”

The prettiest smile she’s ever seen blooms on his face, one that hasn’t shown up yet. It’s the best one.

“Fair enough.”

The snacks go by quickly with small answers and more distraction-aimed looks that stray away from Namjoon and lock onto the table under her crossed arms. It isn’t like the other days when she just feels like an empty-promised burden- this silence is formed out of uncomfortable, new feelings.

Being this close to another hybrid- another prey hybrid that drives, has a job, and an education- is daunting. She feels like a foreigner to him in a way that can’t be described. Part of her wants to ask question after question while the other just wants to never see someone so perfect and put-together again to gain a semblance of pride.

Her name from Namoon’s lips pulls her out of the thoughts.

“Y/N, this yard is lovely, has great sun and shade- do you have a favorite spot?”

He’d like to see her spot? That thought makes her ears perk up, an exciting nod giving Namjoon the answer. She’d love to show him her spot- she doesn’t know what that tells about herself- but she knows Namjoon would understand to some extent why her spot means so much to her. Having Namjoon in her spot sounds nice as well.

“Could I see it? I’d love to see more of the yard.” It’s a hopeful smile, that much Y/N can tell. Nods are the only answer she can muster at this point, looking over at Maria to gauge her reaction.

“Go ahead sweety, I’ll clean up and get dinner started for Rich’.”

“Okay.”

That seemed to be the only queue everyone needed to disperse. Namjoon stands to let her lead the way with a small wave.

Her favorite spot isn’t special, now that she thinks about it. It’s not a cozy spot to everyone, but to her it’s perfect. That should be all that matters, but why is she questioning it so much?

The specific tree closes in on them faster than she was prepared, going around it to stand on the side that faces the wooden fence. She turns to look at the tree and smiles- everytime she’s near it there is the slightest fuzzy feeling that she just can’t place. It’s larger than the width of their bodies together, wide enough for a whole other person of Namjoon’s muscly size to get close to the width of the tree. Its leaves create the perfect shade, but the best part is how climb-able it is. She usually climbs and perches perfectly into an indent that seems like it was made for her.

“It’s massive- you like to sit at the trunk?”

“No, uh-” She points up to the indent, a visible thing only to her mind.

“Ooh, yeah, despite me being a predator I am actually a horrid climber.”

The laugh rips from her before she can stop it. She slaps a hand over her mouth just over the fact that she really didn’t mean to laugh at him at what could be an insecurity. She looks over to him- nothing but an open-mouthed smile of disbelief.

“Look at you! Not all of us could be as nimble as the felines. There’s been more times than I can count that I had no problem going up, and even less problems coming down- at a very fast rate.” He laughs at himself, drawing even more giggles from Y/N.

“We can sit at the trunk if you’d like.” She offers, then backtracks, “Well- if you’d like to er- if you’re staying longer?” Namjoon sits halfway through her rambling, patting the grass next to him as he leans his back against the trunk to look up at the sun filtering through the leaves.

“I can stay as long as you’d like me to- or at latest until 6PM, that’s the limit for the volunteers.” Y/N sits as he answers, pulling her knees up to her chest to lay her cheek on when she asks another question.

“Do you volunteer often?”

“I try to do it five times a week, on the weekdays usually.” Namjoon closes his eyes to feel the breeze pick up.

“That’s- a lot.”

“I love it. A lot of the time it’s little pups that just need someone to really take the time to learn about them and be their friends. Every hybrid deserves a chance to have someone like that. I like to be there for them.”

She can only observe him in awe- his serene expression, the lightness in his aura that seems to want to push and push his calmness onto her. She doesn’t feel the way she felt when she first met Maria and Richard. She’s never met anyone and felt this- this instant connection of sorts that links them. Whether it’s because he’s the first hybrid she’s met, or he’s just that attractive, she can’t help feeling okay with him.

“Do you- do you know about me? About- about why I’m here?” He opens his eyes to look over at her, gauging her expression.

“Not exactly, not-” He positions himself to sit up straighter and keep his head level as he looks at her. “I don’t know your story, I don’t know what you struggle with or what exactly you would like to talk about or seek out. But, we’re transparent at the organization. We get notes from the doctors and suggestions for how to approach someone we’re meeting for the first time. But- honestly- you haven’t told your story yet, so- No, I don’t know you.”

His words sink in, letting Y/N think about what to do or say. She’s never had this before- but- she’s not ready to reveal everything, not now.

“Will you come back? Here. Even if you don’t know me.”

“I’d like to, If you want me to. That’s why I do this- to give every hybrid I can the chance to have someone that cares. Even in times of unknown.” Namjoon says, his open gaze not leaving hers.

“I have never met someone like us before- or, I don’t remember if I have.” She shifts uncomfortably under his gaze, looking up at the trees instead. “I want to learn about me, about us. I don’t know why I do certain things or have certain feelings. I don’t even know how to take care of myself properly and- and Maria, she tries, but she barely knows anything-” She stops. She can’t just ask him these things, she can’t beg for information if he doesn’t want to give it, especially if it’s personal. What if this is all too personal?

“You can ask me anything, Y/N.”

Namjoon answers her without getting any final question. He understands. Everything about him feels sincere. Everything feels as simple as the breeze with him. Why is it this easy with him?

“Then I’d like you to.”

Namjoon’s ears twitch to show he’s questioning what she means despite his expression not changing.

“I’d like you to come back.”

Namjoon’s thick, black tail thumps a few times into the soft, plush-feeling grass. For the first time she actually notices it, the black hair that is well groomed unlike her own. It moves with him, it’s a part of him, through and through. She doesn’t know the first part of being anything like him, a hybrid. All she knows is her human half- she wants to know more. She wants to be both, she doesn’t want to ache for the other part of her any longer.

#bts au #bts fic #bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #bts hybrid fic #namjoon x reader #namjoon au #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader

67 notes · View notes