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queenofzan · 2 months

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The Waterbending Master

So as I said, I'm rewatching Avatar: the Last Airbender. And this time, a few little things have struck me as potentially in need of improvement.

Master Pakku, his refusal to teach Katara, and his coming around when he sees she is Kanna's granddaughter.

This is the first culture in the show we have seen be extremely patriarchal (Sokka is supposed to be the man of the southern tribe and all that is left there are women and children, but they also have extremely low numbers, and honestly, it seems like Gran-Gran is as much in charge of the tribe as the chief's mom or mother-in-law as anything else). Kyoshi Island, obviously, has the Kyoshi Warriors and venerates Avatar Kyoshi; the mayor seems to be a man but Suki and the other warriors are considered leaders as well, despite being teenagers. We see several other Earth Kingdom towns and villages that seem mostly patriarchal, but apart from Sokka (and, once, Zuko) we don't hear a whole lot about what women can or can't do. The Fire Nation army and navy seem to be co-ed, although in season one we mostly see male commanders. However, working with women or taking orders from women doesn't seem to bother anyone except Sokka.

Then we get to the Northern Water Tribe, and they seem to have a pretty stratified society, with explicitly sex-segregated bending traditions. But it kind of seems like the writers wanted to have a moral about sexism without actually depicting sexism?

Pakku does say some derogatory things about how Katara's proper place is with Yugoda and the other girls, but he doesn't even hit as hard as Sokka does with the "girls shouldn't be fighting" stuff. He talks about tradition, which is...a really weird argument to make to the sole remaining Southern Tribe waterbender. Surely in the case of cultural extinction, the importance of keeping Southern waterbending alive is more important than sexism based on traditions? Like, are the traditions of the Southern Tribe completely irrelevant here? It wouldn't seem so, because the Chief does make a big deal of welcoming Katara and Sokka from their sister tribe and treating them as honored guests in their own right, not just as the Avatar's friends. So why didn't the Chief say "Pakku, we've failed to help our sister tribe at all in the last hundred years and now they're down to a single waterbender, we have to at least give the appearance of caring about them", especially since, you know, he's got the Southern Tribe's Chief's son and daughter there with the Avatar. Making sure the Southern Water Tribe still has waterbenders seems like a concern for the balance of the world, no?

And since when have sexist pigs become less sexist when presented with evidence that their crushes have been romantically entangled with someone else? Kanna has grandchildren, she got married to someone else and had children and meanwhile, as far as we can tell, Pakku has no family and never married. He certainly has no issue fucking off to help rebuild the Southern Tribe at the end of season one. Like...is it not much more common for sexist jerks to become more obnoxious after finding out they got dumped and forgotten about? Do men who want your number not usually call you a bitch instead of going, "Ah, you're right, I should reflect on my behavior?"

We also have absolutely no textual evidence for Katara's immediate assumption that Kanna couldn't stand the sexist traditions of the Northern Tribe. Apart from raising Katara, who is definitely not sexist, and raising Sokka, who is definitely sexist at the beginning of the show, we know very little about Kanna.

This is actually a pretty simple fix, in my opinion. A: make it clear Kanna does not stand for Sokka's sexist nonsense. I don't think this actually takes that much effort; some lines when Sokka is being sexist early on met with "You wouldn't say that if Gran-gran could hear you" or "Why don't you ever say that to Gran-gran?" implying that Sokka is in fact watching his tongue around his grandmother lets us know that Gran-gran has an opinion more in line with Katara's.

B: reverse Pakku's stated reasons for not teaching Katara. At first he grudgingly agrees, out of kinship and solidarity (and because the Chief pressured him and the Avatar is watching) but then not only is she a disrespectful student (by his standards) he finds out she's the grand-daughter of the woman who spurned him and apparently started a whole different family with someone else, and finds an excuse to kick her out of class. Or he sees her necklace and accuses her of stealing it, or something. Something so that his argument isn't based solely on the weirdly backwards presumption that his Tribe's traditions are more important than hers, despite the fact that hers are actively endangered.

I think we should honestly also see Pakku be more actively sexist, assuming Katara will be unable to match Aang's progress or his progress or something. He should talk more specific shit about how ill-mannered or boyish she is, or blatantly judge her excellent skills more harshly than Aang's. We should see actual sexism, not just "la la la you can't be here" which is like. Annoying but certainly not the most common or most harmful way sexism manifests. I mean, even him claiming Katara would be unable to concentrate on bending because she's at that age where girls only think about boys would be more than he does; we could even have that tie into the betrothal necklace blowup where he's like "You're fucking up because you're thinking about your impending marriage, aren't you?" and she's like "The fuck you talking about, old man?"

I just. I know they were going for a sort of, oh look, he's been reminded of his True Feelings and the sexism was just sour grapes, but that isn't as strong and it doesn't really send any message about sexism? Whereas if we had any indication that Kanna really did specifically hate that part of the Northern culture, if we had any indication Pakku has actually internalized any sexist ideas beyond "this is how it is", and we had any sense of Pakku actually grappling with the idea that the same things he loved in Kanna are the things that annoy him in Katara, and how that means he's changed, this subplot would be a lot stronger.

I also wonder uhhh what the fuck was Pakku going to say, if someone asked him why he was spying on the Avatar? We know the answer, he's literally spying on the Avatar for the Order of the White Lotus, but it looks like he's just stalking a 12 year old student after dark. It's really weird. Is he that obsessed with enforcing the sexist tradition of women not learning combat waterbending? That's also weird, to be honest! He's an old man, he should have other shit going on! Or else everyone should acknowledge that he's being weird!

#atla #cut for length #what is 1 5/6 art degrees good for if not analyzing minor plot beats in decades old cartoons?

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alchemicaldesignquery · 2 months

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Playing the Hero vs Playing the Role

Something I've noticed in the stretch of conversations that pop up around 6v6 / 5v5 (Overwatch 1 vs. Overwatch 2) is the specific way folks (don't) talk about Tank.

Those players who enjoy(ed) it can get dismissed by large portions of the playerbase, because at some point it was decided that

No one wants to play the role

and you'd be forgiven for believing that? Because Queue times are almost always brought up. They were touted (developer's said as much) as the reason for why the game shifted to a 5v5 format for the sequel. Which...also kinda explains why the design and balance decisions feel a lot like throwing wet paper at a wall to see what sticks. Experimentation and all.

I'd argue though, that Tank, unlike the other Roles in the game, has not had very good decisions made at the design level. I would even go as far as to say, that, after the original cast, there has not been a well designed Tank released into either the original Overwatch 1 or Overwatch 2.

Which isn't to say the heroes released who happen to be Tanks are all bad? But there's a firm demarcation between-

A well designed Hero; engaging, fun, interactive and encouraging of any player willing to give them a try.

and

A well designed Tank: a Role/Job within the game with a certain responsibilities that caters to specific players with particular wants.

There's evidence of this demarcation found in other Roles. The Support Role, for instance, has seen a drastic uptick in "DPS"centric heroes throughout the last few years of Overwatch.

Illari, Kiriko, and, Baptiste all saw very swiftly delivered, widely useful, and borderline, automated mechanics introduced with their kits that performed their Support duties for them, while their Damage outputs and options became the core elements of engagement and interaction.

The devs have gone on to suggest this was done to entice more DPS players into the Role and Supports, for the last year, did enjoy a very promising and popular (read: broken) status.

The question of whether this is a good philosophy, let alone a fair one, is another discussion.

The argument I'd make is that these might be well designed Heroes? But the veracity of them being well designed Supports, is pretty loose and unstable.

Switching over to the Tank Role, the demarcation becomes even more stark; Tanks with heavy DPS influence (Mauga, Junkerqueen, Rammattra, Roadhog) tend to deliver a minimal Tank experience in favour of an oversimplified

Lots of Health + Sustain with unique Damage applications.

which, again, brings up the value of the design and how it heavily leans toward the Hero aspect while leaving the Role, largely unconsidered, if not outright minimized.

And this goes back further than the newer releases/re-works, into Overwatch 1. Of all the Tanks that have been released, after the original cast, how many can actually be considered well designed?

Sigma's kit remains a bloated 'omni-answer' with no weaknesses and little variability.

Orisa's kit went from a delay-bot with little agency, to a "Press 1-button every 5s" playstyle between the two games.

Doomfist's Tank expression oscillates between delivering every known type of CC available in such short intervals that few options exist for responding

Interrupting his interesting movement for a poorly disguised "window of opportunity" that sees him standstill and let the enemy waste time/resources on a ridiculous damage reduction %, that neither side can garner any satisfaction from.

Zarya's bubbles are now unlocked and, most often, executed purely on a selfish level, especially when combined with the singular Tank format that demands maximum survival when playing the front line. A minimal change of her design that has drastically increased the pendulum of her gameplay, swinging from extreme to extreme depending on the numbers.

Only Wrecking Ball, seems to provide a semblance of unique Tank Design that demands particular skillsets and learning, but even then, how much of that is the Uniqueness of the Hero and how much is that he is an effective Tank?

The argument that Tank is an unpopular role has been carried around from original to sequel for quite some time and is a very well-recognized refrain within the community.

Where it comes into deep question, is just how the design has gone from Winstons, Dvas, Reinhardts, and (old) Zaryas to a dumbed down philosophy on what makes a Tank and what sort of interest there is to be found with designs that are only really just...more health, more damage, and less thought?

And many of the older designs have become not just outdated, but difficult to execute against newer models who carry all their power in their stats and high-value, minimal execution mechanics.

Who wants to play a Role that hasn't had any creativity since the Devs thought about putting a Hamster in a Ball, into the game?

#Overwatch 2 #game design #Tank #Tank design #6v6 #5v5 #How are we supposed to have fun this way?#and if Tank players aren't having fun why would anyone else even try?

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axilarycobra · 11 months

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I hate Darkstalker rant

I'm heated rn. Sorry that it's so long. Most posts I write like this end up in my drafts so we'll see if this gets posted or not. Hopefully, people actually read this because I got so heated writing it, I needed to let off some steam now.

TLDR: You can like Darkstalker idc, but he's not a good person so plz don't try to defend him against what I say because he isn't

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Personally, I feel like Darkstalker didn't have any redeeming qualities and I've seen a lot of Darkstalker apologist posts but literally, almost every point they make comes with a 'yeah, but...' statement because there's always something that can be said about Darkstalker that destroys their point.

He undeniably was not a good person and although a lot view him as a well-written character, which I can get a bit of, there are still a lot of elements of his character that just aren't solved by looking at that (? that doesn't even make sense to me entirely).

Like, he was meant to be in love with Clearsight and that was supposed to make him appear to be some kind of morally gray guy ("cause he just wanted what was best for them, right?") but he did not treat her like how you treat someone you love. He gaslit her, manipulated her, guilt-tripped her, and even thought about killing her because her life wasn't even more valuable to him than his silly little animus magic?!? Like what?! He was just power-hungry and needed someone next to him to tell him that everything he was doing was great to boost his ego.

Like, he loved his mother maybe and that's it. Maybe Whiteout. But he also murdered Arctic in front of Whiteout which most likely traumatized her so I feel like he doesn't consider how she feels about her family and he also doesn't listen to her when she tries to warn him. Like, he's always undermining what she says to him. Like, it almost feels like he isn't trying to protect her specifically but rather protect the idea of a family since he also recognized that he could have helped her hatch that night but didn't because he knew that it would mean that she wouldn't be a threat to him if they weren't born on the same night.

On top of that, I know he was meant to be written to be a morally gray character, that was the whole reason for his creation, but nothing he does gives off any vibe that what he's doing could be perceived as the greater good. Just because you see a future where you and your future wife are happy with kids doesn't mean that it's ok to take over a whole continent and destroy the whole balance of peace, killing thousands of dragons in the process. Like, if he literally said that he would have to drag Clearsight screaming and crying in order for that timeline to happen, that seems like a pretty great indicator that he was not doing good stuff in that timeline.

Now, don't even get me started on Darkstalker apologist arguments. They either make claims that can be rebutted easily or are literally making stuff up. Like, there are some Darkstalker apologists who at some point, they have just created an entirely new character that isn't Darkstalker at all. You can't go on about how he did nothing wrong by denying the stuff he did because then that isn't Darkstalker. Like, yeah, if he didn't do all that stuff, he wouldn't be such a bad guy but he DID do that stuff!!! That's why he's a bad guy!!! You can't deny things that are canon when trying to argue that Darkstalker isn't a bad guy within the canon.

Also, there are people who literally just claim Darkstalker's character and blame Tui for ruining him which is absolutely ridiculous because I forgot the part where they actually created Darkstalker and Tui stole him from them. Like, Tui wrote Darkstalker the way Darkstalker is, he isn't some kind of character she took from somewhere. You can't say that she made him wrong, that's literally just how he is. I'm saying this as a writer myself, you will never know as much about a character as the person who made that character. Tui knows a thousand more things about Darkstalker than any of these apologists who pretend like Darkstalker is some voice in their head begging to be released from Tui's vices.

Another thing I see mentioned is how Darkstalker being from an abusive family or being autistic-coded means that Tui believes that people like that end up as bad people which, really? Have you analyzed any other characters in this series? First of all, Darkstalker isn't even in the top 10 most autistic-coded characters of this series (coming from an autistic person myself). There are also plenty of examples of characters who had abusive families (Winter? Qibli? Peril?) and although they have their faults, they all come out not being presented as bad people. That's literally just how Darkstalker himself came out to be. Like, he is just one example of a character with these circumstances and for him, it ended up with him doing bad things. That doesn't mean that everyone who had the same circumstances ends up doing bad things, that's just what happened for Darkstalker specifically.

Anyway, I can't think of any more arguments off the top of my head that Darkstalker apologists use. At the end of the day, if you just like Darkstalker, that's alright, like, don't feel the need to mention it to me you can do whatever you want, it's just the people who try to defend Darkstalker and claim that he was never a bad guy who gets on my nerves because he genuinely isn't.

#wings of fire #wof #wings of fire darkstalker #wof darkstalker

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emabatis · 4 months

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WIP Extract

I was tagged by @kaylinalexanderbooks

I'm not sure who to tag, so if you see this, consider it an ivitation to participate!

This is a snippet of the very first scene I wrote for this particular wip, and I'm pretty proud of it. The rest of the novel is just trying to match this energy:

His words arranged themselves like they’d been rehearsed. “I’ve been listening a lot about ‘free will.’” He said the last two words like they were many syllables longer than they actually were. “And if anyone really has it. Some-”

“Anderson, might I ask, what’s free will?” Emilie asked.

Anderson lurched, the way someone does when they almost fall while balancing on one foot. “It’s - well - it’s free will. When one’s will is... free.”

“It’s the ability to make your own decisions without being controlled by outside influence. Something I’m not surprised you kids know so little about,” Nettie said, not looking up from her money-counting.

“But the argument behind it all is whether or not anyone really has it.” Having successfully regained his conversational footing, Anderson continued. “Some people say, well, yes, of course we do. Otherwise we wouldn’t have things like opinions, and the whole debate is positive proof that people have opinions. But the other side says that everything leading up to every choice I make is out of my control, because everyone is so influenced by everything - and everyone - else, especially parents and teachers. It’s mostly their decision, even if only subconsciously. I’ve thought about it extensively, and it makes a lot of sense to me. So, I’ve been trying really hard, whenever I’m faced with a choice of what to say, or which path to school to take, or what flavor of ice cream to buy, to undermine that subconscious influence, and get the exact opposite of what I want.”

“Wow, Anderson. That seems like a hard thing to do.” Emilie said.

“That’s the point.”

Dahlia, who had been listening, as she always did, looked closely at her own chocolate ice cream. “If I chose things like that, I would have to buy peanut ice cream, but I’m allergic to peanuts.”

Anderson turned from flustered to downright alarmed. “Wh- well, it doesn’t - it doesn’t work like that!”

"Whyever not? It's naturally the exact opposite of what Dahlia here wants," Emilie said.

#my fiction #the icy wip #excerpts

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officialleehadan · 2 years

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Pinion Wings

Hello darlings! Today's story was brought to you by Hel! Darling, thank you so much for your support!

Prompt: Higher Being Housemates

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Michael was, in a word, obnoxious.

He didn’t like the Cats, which Tracy had expected.

He didn’t like Nephilim, which was also reasonably expected.

He didn’t like his brothers, which was honestly pretty entertaining.

Rafael was clearly used to being the go-between for Michael and Gabriel, who spent most of the next hour trading barbed snipes with each other, both under threat of wing-numbing if either of them tried to escalate to real violence.

If they were in Heaven, Rafael had explained with a put-upon sigh, he would have allowed them to fight and get it out of their system. Here on the mortal plane however, a battle between two archangels could seriously damage the world. Even if the battle was just a tussle between brothers.

So the Archangel of Healing sat placidly between his brothers, one hand on Michael’s shoulder, the other on Gabriel’s elbow, and smiled while his tea went cold so everyone could have a talk without a fight breaking out.

“Nephilim are a balance,” Gabriel was saying to Rabbi Herschel, who had managed to recover enough to have a reasonable discussion. In some unspoken agreement, Imam Abdul was talking with Michael about Holy weapons and ways to manage demons in the decidedly more lethal ways. Tracy didn’t really approve of that part, but she did probably have some demon fights in her future, so she listened anyway. “The line that only humans can walk between Heaven and Hell. Between good and evil, although those concepts are rather more broad than truly applies here.”

“Wait, I thought the Great War was over good and evil?” Tracy asked, a frankly shameful student of theology, considering her life. She had read the bible, made Blake and Angelika explain it, and watched their heated arguments over the whole business. Given the disagreement between an actual angel and demon about the text, Tracy figured it had some issues. The rest of the religious texts were no better, unfortunately. “You tried to explain it, but I wasn’t really listening.”

“I’m not surprised,” Gabriel said dryly, and sighed. “It’s often the way with Nephilim. Something about you often seems to reject the greater principles of the whole affair.”

“Whole affair, he calls the war that nearly destroyed Heaven, and created Hell,” Michael muttered, apparently offended enough to interject. He had, begrudgingly, explained what he knew of Nephilim to Tracy and his brothers. Now Gabriel and Rafael were going over it all again, translated into small words for the stupid human. Tracy would have felt worse about it, but none of the three Holy Men seemed to be following the explanation terribly well, either. Tracy wondered if their faith made things easier, or harder to understand. “We lost millions of angels in that battle, to destruction or corruption. The Fallen, you demons call them, but they were our family, once, before they betrayed for the Betrayer.”

Michael also did not like discussing Samael. Tracy hadn’t brought it up after he threatened to stab Gabriel for it, even if she was pretty sure that Rafael’s Disappointed Face was just as bad as Angelika’s, and that Michael probably wouldn’t risk it just to shut up a human. She would ask later, when the Angel of Smiting was no longer in he room.

“We don’t meet them for the most part,” Blake contributed. Angelika was seated just beside him until their wing-feathers mingled together, and they became a shared lap for no less than six of the Cats. They, of course, were keeping very quiet except to hiss at Michael whenever he moved too quickly. “The Fallen. They stay in their citadels. Risen aren’t welcome there. The only time we see them is when they’ve decided to make a move on each other, or if we get powerful enough to be interesting. It’s how I ended up working for Belial.”

“Perhaps that is why you have more flexibility of being,” Rafael mused. He leaned over and caught the tip of Blake’s wing before the demon could stop him, and pulled it out to full extension. “Stop struggling, young one. If I meant to harm you, I certainly would have by now. I want to see your wings.”

“I don’t want you to see my wings,” Blake muttered rebelliously, but gave in when Tracy caught his eye. He might be defiant, but he wasn’t going to refuse a direct order here in front of all the angels. It was too important that they remain a united front. He mantled his wings and huffed a very bird-y, put-upon hiss. “Fine. Go ahead. Poke and prod. Yank them out if you want. They just grow back.”

“I’m not going to pinion you,” Rafael said, entirely offended by the very suggestion. Gabriel winced and even Michael looked uncomfortable at the suggestion. There was some history there, but Tracy wasn’t about to ask about it now. “Even if I wasn’t a healer, I would not do such a thing.”

Blake ducked his head, appropriately chastened, but he still let Angelika take his hand reassuringly. She had been their Lady Redemption before she was Lady Redemption, and her wings had changed too. They were united in their shared strangeness.

“I told him they were like mine,” Gabriel contributed with a gesture at one shoulder where his wings would have been if he had them out. He didn’t, of course. Six people with wings in one small kitchen was at least four too many, and both Angelika and Blake had theirs out already. Michael, of course, had put his away after Rafael numbed them, and Gabriel didn’t have his wings out unless he was making a statement or using them to fly. “Changed by the behaviors that altered the core of his being.”

“You’re not entirely wrong,” Rafael said. The tip of the feather he held between his fingers silvered, and he raised a brow. “Ordinarily, I would agree, but…”

He held the feather, still attached to Blake’s wing, up for his brothers to see.

“This effect is more visible on the Cats,” he said, voice in the practiced cadence of a teacher. “They bleach out when exposed to Holy influences, with no sign of discomfort. Blake, can you feel this?”

“It’s like static,” Blake reported and tugged on his wing. Raphael obligingly let him go and the feather faded back to black as Blake finger-groomed it. “Not bad static, but not great. What is it?”

“Choice,” Michael said quietly, his eyes on the place where Rafael’s fingers bleached Blake’s feather. “The most dangerous thing between Heaven and Hell. We fought a war over choice. Millions died, over choice. And now you and your very, very strange household have dredged open that ancient wound once more.”

“A bone that heals wrong must be rebroken,” Rafael said, and released both his brothers so he could take a sip of his cold tea. “Perhaps it is time that we examined that old wound and see if it has truly healed as it should.”

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HBH - Higher Being Housemates V2:

Feathers and Tea

Grey and Red (Subscriber Only!)

From the Heavens (Subscriber Only!)

Silver Shine

Hounds of Hell

Potential Alliance

Wing Blade Runner (Subscriber Only!)

Third Side Saving

Figuring Fun (Subscriber Only!)

On my Turf

Fortified Three

Visit a Friend

Call the Troops (Subscriber Only!)

Men of the Cloth

Lost in Translation (Subscriber Only!)

The Voice of God

White Socks (Subscriber Only!)

Wing Flick (Subscriber Only!)

Pinion Wings (New!)

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MASTERLIST

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burnwater13 · 8 months

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Grogu had really thought he was done remembering stuff about Corvus, the Imperial Magistrate, and that beskar spear. It wasn’t like any of them mattered to him any more. His dad didn’t even have the spear now. He’d given it to the Armorer. She said that no one should make weapons from beskar, which seemed very funny to Grogu considering that Mandalorians were basically weapons and they were covered with the stuff. But he was smart enough to keep that to himself.

Yet, here he was, talking to you about it. Again. Again. Again. Why was he so obsessed with the Magistrate? He knew he wasn’t obsessed with the spear. It was just a pointy thing that hurt if you hit your foot with it. Not his foot mind you. Din Djarin’s foot. And that was a complete accident. He had no idea that his dad had taken off his boots to air them out (uff, how do air boots out in space?). Grogu was just seeing if he could balance the spear on one finger because of course he was going to try that, and his dad surprised him with his yelling.

“Grogu! Put that down right now! You might…Ow! Dank Farrik!”

Well, Grogu had put the spear down. Then, as he ran past his dad to go hide in his cabin, he touched Din’s foot for a split second and healed him. It was the least he could do and he hoped it inspired mercy or at least toned down the lecture he was going to get about minding his manners and not touching things that weren’t his. Grogu didn’t think he could get away with pointing out that technically he hadn’t touched the spear at all. His dad did not care for arguments like that.

Grogu had almost, kind of, met the Magistrate when she showed the Mandalorian the beskar spear. He was puzzled by her. She seemed very orderly and organized. She almost reminded Grogu of some of the Jedi he had known at the Temple so long ago. But there was something off about her. Something not quite right. Other than demanding that his dad hunt down Ahsoka Tano and kill her. That had made her seem down right Sithy.

But the way she treated the people of the town was pretty awful too. And why ask the first Mandalorian she met to do her dirty work? Did she think that every Mandalorian she met was a bounty hunter and that they didn’t have a higher purpose? That was pretty presumptuous.

(Okay, Fennec told him that word and Grogu really liked it and looked for places to use it whenever he could. This was one of those rare opportunities and he was going to take it. After all, these were his stories and he could tell them however he liked.)

So why was he still dreaming of her? Why did she keep showing up? Hadn’t he learned all the lessons he could from comparing his behaviors against hers? Hadn’t he tried to understand why some people were motivated to be selfish and hurtful to other people and try to curb those behaviors in himself?

He’d learned to share his meals with his Dad and he didn’t have to eat every last frog on the plate. He always offered at least one of them to Din or Greef Karga or IG-11-M if the assassin droid/marshal came to visit them around dinner time.

So why couldn’t he stop dreaming about Corvus? It had been a pretty beat up and battered world. It was pretty. It didn’t smell nice. The people there were nice once they’d gotten the Magistrate, Lang, his mercenaries, and the battle droids sorted out.

“Grogu? Are you okay buddy?”

Grogu looked up at his dad and coo’d that he was fine. Then it hit him. Corvus was where Din Djarin had learned his actual name. That had made them even closer. More like family. He wasn’t just a random ‘kid’ or ‘buddy’. He was Grogu.

So no Imperial Magistrate, no Ahsoka Tano, no Ahsoka Tano, no ‘Grogu’. He might never have heard his dad laugh. They might not have played the game with the silver ball. They might have just been two strangers traveling on the same ship to the same place, forced to spend time together because they each needed something the other one had. Uff. That would have been awful.

So even though he still didn’t like the Morgan Elsbeth, she had at least done Grogu on unwitting favor. She’d been at the right place at the right time and that had been just what Grogu needed for his Mandalorian protector to really become his Mandalorian dad. For that he would always be grateful.

Although, he would also be grateful if those dreams stopped. He got the message. No one needed to keep sending them to him. Honestly. They could stop. Really. Grogu will give you Jedi lessons if you help him stop dreaming about this stuff. Really. He promises. This is the Way.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #din djarin #grogu

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eristic-kaleidoscope · 1 year

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Sticky Fingers || Eureka 01 || Trial 1-3 || Re: Ae-Ra, Lapis || Attn: Lapis, AIRika

Oh damn shit was popping off here. It was kind of impressive actually. Accusations were flying and theories were coming out. Actually no. Theory was coming out. Her fucking theory that people kept saying was somebody else's. Her eye twitched as yet another person failed to attribute her theory to her, or at least acknowledge her work in setting up the argument they were all working off of now.

"Hey, motherfucker. I know Airchild made the correction but just so people are clear. The theory on the culprit having a restriction causing them to need to or be driven to make their food in the popcorn machine was my damn theory. Not Erika ND's. Not Airchilds. Mine. My theory. Cite my fucking participation god damn it. I know you especially Erika L the boring Erika, are use to not being around people or some shit, but that's just common damn courtesy when working with theory's."

As she spoke angrily her fork covered in honey whipped around in the air, splattering flecks of honey randomly around her. Then she stopped and took a breath. There were actual trial things to address. her smile returned and she looked over at Ae-Ra with a curious expression.

"You know I was trying to consider while everyone spoke. What restriction could be applied to Lapidot using the information we have, that would also lead them to cook in the way the killer did? The problem is that the testimonies don't actually line up to give me an idea unless Lapidot is just incredibly fucking stupid. See the issue is I did consider they were banned from carbohydrates but they are an athlete. They would know damn well that bread is a carb. I also considered they might be banned from prepared foods, which not everyone would realize applies to bread. The problem with that is them having a hard time making a stupid sandwich implies they were either having medical issues due to a deficiency or they were trying to avoid triggering their restriction. In either case, it seems like they would be pretty aware that the bread was going to shock them."

She looks over to Lapis, resting one arm on the podium as her chin sits within the palm of her hand. Her smile was catlike and her body shifted slightly with a playful motion. It was all a play to her and- CRASH! She continued looking at Lapis as the plate she had been balancing on her podium slid off the surface and shattered on the floor. If she looked at it then it would mean having to acknowledge she had forgotten to hold the damn thing. The fork was still in her other hand.

"You are clearly lying about your restriction. Because you would have to be an idiot to eat bread when you had a bread restriction. I don't think anyone here is that stupid. Because that requires a level of stupid that surpasses even basic human survival instincts. But, Pinky, who went off, has a point. We have no actual evidence at the moment that your restriction forces you into the role of killer either. So, we need your actual restriction champ. That or people will just keep assuming it is you. I would also give Pinky the point on Airchild suspcion but they seem to have an at least decent-ish alibi. They could have done the murder in that hour but who knows? I think really both of them should reveal their true restrictions because otherwise people will continue pointing at them because they seem sussy wussy to anyone wanting to save their own feely weelies... Oh yeah and somebody took another knife from the kitchen while we were investigating. i forgot to mention that. I noticed it while I was cooking delicious french toast."

#Eureka #chapter1 #trial1 #submission

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theright-sideofme · 3 years

Text

Feeling. J. Wooyoung

Wooyoung x fem!reader College au!, Soulmate au! WC: 4.9k Summary: You were one of the few who actually had a soulmate, shame you though the whole idea of love was artificial. Warnings: mentions of panic attack, language,

*12 years ago*

“Y/n got her soulmate mark!” Yeosang, your best friend shouted to the rest of the class a few seconds after the heart shaped scar bloomed on your skin; a moment you would never forget. The whole class ran over to you, shoving one another to see the mark that had just appeared on your skin. You were the first kid in your class to get a soulmate mark, so to say everyone was excited was an understatement.

“A heart? What’s a heart mean?” asked Mingi, another boy in your class. “Love” Yeosang said in a ‘duh’ tone that made you giggle. “Actually, it means Y/n will be able to feel what her soulmate feels, and they’ll be able to feel what she feels.” Your teacher explained, earning a chorus of ‘oh’s’ from you and your classmates. After everyone got a look at your mark your teacher was quick to get everyone back in their seats to resume class. You looked down at your wrist, a smile coming to your face as your heart swelled, “I have a soulmate” you whispered happily to yourself.

*Present*

You let out a sigh as you quickly cover up your soulmate mark with multiple bracelets, not wanting to look at it any longer. The day you found out you were one of the few who had a soulmate, you couldn’t have been more happy, but as you grew up, you realized your soulmate mark came with the watching eyes of everyone who saw it.

Soulmates were a bit of a rare occurrence, so when people saw anyone with a soulmate mark it grabbed their attention. Whether people were jealous or just curious about the phenomenon, everyone you had ever met only care about the stupid mark on your wrist. The only people who didn’t care were your best friends, Yeosang and Mingi. They both had marks of their own, but unlike you, they didn’t mind the prying eyes, the only thing they cared about was finding their soulmate.

“You can’t hide it forever you know,” Yeosang teased as he walked into you room, not even bothering to knock. “I can try” you huffed back in response. “What happens when you meet your soulmate, are you still gonna hide it” “probably” “dude seriously?”

Normally, when people find their soulmate, they proudly put themselves on display: showing off their mark, being overly affectionate in public, and over all just sucking up any attention they could get. It was disgusting.

“Yeah, seriously,” you stated. “I wouldn’t like that if I was your soulmate, I’d wanna show off our bond.” Yeosang stated, making you roll your eyes. Before you could respond with some witty comeback, a sudden wave of sadness hit you like a truck. Tears welled up in your eyes for god knows what reason and you felt like you had a lump the size of a baseball in your throat, it was awful. “What- whoah, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you upset- no no no don’t cry” Yeosang said frantically as he tried to calm you down. You tried to explain that it wasn’t him, but the only thing that left your mouth was a sob.

“Heyy- What the hell did you do” Mingi said as he walked into your apartment, quickly rushing to your side and pulling you into his arms. “I didn’t do anything-” “of course you did something, it’s you” “Hey-” “shut up, please” you managed to say through sobs.

As much as you hated your soulmate bond, you hated that your soulmate was feeling like this even more. It made you wonder what happened and if they were okay, if someone was with them to help them.

After about five minutes of you sobbing, you finally calmed down enough to explain what happened. “Ah your soulmate bond! I thought you really were upset with me” “good” you sniffled, “maybe this will teach you to stay out of my business” “hmm” Yeosang pretended to be deep in thought before tackling you, “nah I’m good.” “Group hug!” Mingi shouted before pulling both you and Yeosang into his arms.

For the rest of the day you had this lingering sadness and the lump in your throat never went away. You never really gave much thought to your soulmate before, but today you just couldn’t stop your mind from wandering. There was this urge to find them and hold them and reassure them that everything would be okay. You tried pushing those thoughts away, you didn’t even want a soulmate, so why were you so concerned? You tried to convince yourself it was just because you were a nice person, but there was a deeper reason and you could feel it, no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

You now sat at one of your favorite cafes with Mingi and Yeosang. You had went there to study, but no one was studying. Mingi was trying to balance a spoon on his nose, Yeosang was making sure Mingi would fail at that task, and you were recording all of it. Soft giggles left your mouth as Yeosang pushed Mingi for the third time, making the spoon fall to the ground. “Dude, come on-” Mingi pouted, shoving Yeosang back. “-I almost had it!” “Yeah I know, that’s the point” Mingi picked up the spoon from the ground and threw it a Yeosang, hitting him right in the forehead. You let out a loud laugh, all but snorting at the look on Yeosang’s face. The two bickered like two little kids for a while, giving you a front row seat to another one of their entertaining arguments. You were so distracted by your two best friends that you didn’t even realize the lump in your throat was gone.

Wooyoung lied in bed, a small smile on his face as he felt the urge to laugh. His soulmate was happy. He had been hurting all day, and he could only imagine what that did to his soulmate, so feeling them feel so care free- it made him happy. All Wooyoung ever wanted for his soulmate was for them to be happy, and he couldn’t stand when he would feel you hurt. He found it funny how quickly you would get annoyed or frustrated, he honestly just couldn’t wait to meet you.

After a while of just enjoying feeling okay, he looked over and saw it was actually getting pretty late and he had an 8am class tomorrow. He had already skipped class today, he couldn’t skip tomorrow too. So he quickly got ready for bed, slowly falling asleep with a warm feeling in his chest and a smile on his face.

“Feeling better” San asked as he plopped his stuff down next to Wooyoung. They had both shown up to class early, which was weird for the two who were normally the last ones into their classes. “Yeah, I’ll be good man” “that’s good, because we’re parting tonight.” San excitedly as he took his seat next to Wooyoung. Wooyoung had been down for the past few days and yesterday was the tipping point, San just wanted him to go out and let loose.

Wooyoung let a chuckle slip past his lips as he shook his head. “I don’t feel like going to another frat party-” “well it’s not a frat party because we’re throwing the party- just come on man” San whined as he all but begged his friend. “I’ll think about it.” Wooyoung sighed. He pulled out his laptop and textbook, getting ready for class when he heard the door get busted open. Everyone turned to the door to see two guys scrambling to stand up, and a girl, trying to get away from the two as quick as possible.

“You started it- hey, don’t run away from us!” The taller of the two shouted at the girl as she rushed to get a seat. She pretended like she didn’t hear them and sat two rows in front of San and Wooyoung. The two boys were quick to sit next to her, the shorter boy wrapping his arm around the girl as the taller one sat on her lap. “You two are so embarrassing- get off.” The girl whined as she tried to pry herself away from the two.

Wooyoung watched in amusement, they were definitely going to make this new semester interesting. He seem couldn’t pull his attention away from the trio, more specifically, the girl. She was beautiful, her smile was enchanting and her laughter made his heart swell, she was the type of girl people wrote songs about.

San noticed his friends staring and smiled. Wooyoung had always been faithful to a soulmate he had never met. He never had other relationships and he never gave into crushes he deemed “small” and “silly” all because he had a soulmate. Now here he was, ogling over a girl he didn’t know.

“Why don’t you go talk to her” San suggested, making Wooyoung snap out of his gaze. “Huh, why?” “because you think she’s cute” “I have a soulmate” “and you're not gonna know how to treat them if you’ve never been in a relationship” “then I learn with them” “what makes you think your soulmate's never dated anyone before?” Wooyoung had never considered that, but why would his soulmate date someone else if they knew they would end up with him- their soulmate. Wooyoung shook his head, trying to get rid of the jealous feeling that rose in his chest. He had no right to be jealous; he tried to reason to himself, but he couldn’t help it.

San saw him overthinking and sighed, “look, you’re just gonna have a nice friendly conversation with her, you’ll be fine.” Wooyoung thought for a moment, and San was right, he was just going to talk to her, nothing else. “Fine.”

After class you, Mingi, and Yeosang gathered your things and got ready to leave. “Be honest, the professor was totally checking me out, right?” You froze, giving Mingi an incredulous look before remembering, “It’s Mingi.” So with a small giggle you nodded, deciding to entertain his delusions. “Yeah Min, She was totally checking you” “I sense sarcasm; I will ignore.” Both you and Yeosang laughed as you continued to pack up, shaking your head at you crazy friend.

“Uh hey” the three of you snapped your heads up and saw two rather attractive guys standing in front of you. One had pink hair and cat like eyes that would probably be scary if he wasn't smiling. The other guy- he was breathtaking. He had jet black hair and the most enchanting eyes- whoa. “Um, hi” you replied, silently wondering if your heart speeding up was you or your soulmate.

“We’re throwing a party tonight and you guys seem… fun, so we were wondering if you wanted to come?” The one with black hair asked as he shot you a smile. Okay so the heart thing was definitely you, got it. You took a deep breath and looked back at your friends, who were already looking at you with puppy dog eyes. They knew you didn’t like parties, but they loved parties, and loved to make new friends. Mingi even grabbed onto your hand like a toddler and pouted out his lip. Letting out a sigh, you turned back to the two boys and nodded, “we’ll be there-” “yes!” The two boys behind you cheered, making you try to hold in a laugh, “um, I can give you my number and you could text me the address?” “yeah, sounds good.” The two of you quickly exchanged numbers and then the five of your exited the class before parting ways.

“They were cute” Mingi sighs as he looks dreamily into the distance. “Yeah, and one of them was totally checking out Y/n” “Ha, I beg your pardon?” Yeosang smirks as he pulls you in closer. “Come on Y/n, don’t tell me you're blind? The dude you gave your number to was totally checking you out” “well it doesn’t matter” you say simply, trying to ignore the feeling of heat rising to your cheeks. Was he really checking you out?

“You know, for someone who rejects the idea of her soulmate so much, you’ve been awfully loyal to them.” Yeosang points out, “huh?” “You’ve never been in a relationship, you never entertained anyone who had romantic feelings for you, hell you even stepped on Nicks foot when he asked you out” “yeah but Nick was a dick” Mingi interjected.

Okay, so maybe it was true you’ve never tried to pursue a romantic relationship with anyone, but you didn’t think that had anything to do with your soulmate. You had rejected the idea of love a long time ago. Nowadays, a relationship was another accessory everyone wanted to show off, and you didn’t want to feel like a human handbag. People who found their soulmates often just assumed they would work out just because they were soulmates, they didn’t try to make the whole process of falling in love special, they just flaunted their soulmate marks and relationships. You didn’t want to end up like that, ever.

The party had been going on for about an hour in Wooyoung, San, Jongho, and Yunho’s shared apartment and was now filled with people, most of which Wooyoung didn’t even know. Sure, Wooyoung was a social butterfly and had probably talked to almost everyone there, but that didn’t mean he knew them or even their names. Wooyoung lets out a sigh, leaning up against the wall as he sips his drink quietly. The only person Wooyoung actually wanted to see right now was you, but you were nowhere to be found.

“Hey, this is your party, right?” Some girl asks as she comes up to Wooyoung. “My roommates party, but yeah sure” “well it’s really great” she said cheerily as she looks up at him with a bright smile. Wooyoung nods, truly uninterested in what the girl had to say. “Mhm, it’s super” the girl giggles, leaning closer to Wooyoung who doesn’t even spare her a glance. “You seem to be the only one not having fun.” She says with a pout, and Wooyoung is about ready to just start ignoring her, but then he sees you walk in the room with your friends. He felt relief and excitement wash over him when his eyes landed on you “Excuse me.” Was all Wooyoung said to the girl as he quickly made his way over to you.

“You made it” Wooyoung cheers as he approaches the three of you. You smile and nod, looking around the crowded apartment for a brief moment, how do so many people fit in this small ass place, you wonder. Yeosang places a hand on your shoulder before telling you he’s gonna go get you guys some drinks and you nod. Wooyoung directs him to the kitchen and he ends up taking Mingi with him, leaving you and Wooyoung alone, well as alone as you can be in a crowded room.

“I didn’t think you’d come” “I thought about it, trust me” you only half joked, parties really weren’t your thing. “Well I’m glad you did, my night just got a whole lot better” he said as he gave you a sweet smile. You could’ve swore your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widening slightly at his comment. Wow this boy was smooth. “I’m sure your night was just fine without me” you teased as you tried to play off your mini panic. “Sure, it was fine, but now it’s better.” You just started at him, trying to push your butterflies deep, deep down. What the heck was up with this guy and why were you so affected by him?

Wooyoung smiled at your reaction, trying to push his own butterflies to the side, but he really couldn’t, not when you were staring at him all cutely. He had to fight back the urge to pinch your cheeks, crossing his arms to help him out a bit. He was just as confused as you were, he had never felt so… interested by anyone like this before, it made his heart pound in his chest.

You quickly averted your gaze to try and stop the heat spreading to your cheeks, and that’s when you noticed your two friends had abandoned you for some guys from your psychology class, Hongjoong and Seonghwa you think their names are. “Well that’s rude” “you mumbled under your breath, and Wooyoung heard you, following your gaze before laughing. “Come on, let’s get you a drink,” he said. He placed his hand on the small of your back and you quickly jumped away, feeling like you had been shocked.

The two of you stared at each other. Did he feel it too? Wooyoung, out of curiosity, looked down at your wrist, only to see it covered with a copious amount of bracelets. You too, looked at his wrist and you felt the urge to vomit when you saw the same little heart scar that you had stared at every day since you were nine on his wrist. It had to be a coincidence, right? It didn’t matter, you suddenly felt hot, like someone had set you on fire and your breathing became uneven and heavy, you had to get out of there. Quickly turning on your heels, you rushed out of the apartment, rushing down the stairs to get as far away as you could.

Wooyoung was hot on your heels though, following behind you as soon as you left. “Y/n, Y/n slow down” Wooyoung called after you. The look on your face before you ran out had him so worried. Your eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape as your breathing started to pick up, he just wanted to know you were okay.

After running for a while, the thoughts in your head running rampant, you became light headed. You could barely stand up straight anymore, scraping both your palms and knees as you fell to the sidewalk. Wooyoung felt his heart drop when you fell and rushed to your side as quickly as he could. “Hey Y/n, you okay, just breath. In and out like this, can you do that?” “N-no- I- too much” “Y/n, hey Y/n look at me.” Wooyoung cupped your face, forcing you to look at him as he helped you calm down.

He knew then that you were his soulmate, because he could feel all of it, the light headedness, the heart racing, the fear that had built up in the pit of his stomach, he knew. So once you were calm and in his arms, he let out a shaky sigh, holding you a bit tighter as he looked down at you. He had dreamed about meeting his soulmate for so long, never did he imagine that his soulmate would get a panic attack upon finding out. All he wanted was for you to feel safe and happy around him, not scared and vulnerable.

The two of you sat there in silence on the side of the sidewalk for about 30 minutes, he still held you in his arms and you allowed him, feeling an odd sense of comfort from his hold. The two of you would get strange looks from passerbyers but you didn’t care, not right now.

“Thank you” were the first words out of your mouth as you pulled away to look at him. Wooyoung just nodded, keeping his hand on your back, rubbing it gently as if to reassure you. “I should go home” you said quietly as you stood up, “let me walk you” “you don’t-” “I’m not letting you walk alone at night.” His voice was gentle, but his tone also told you there was no room for argument, he was going to make sure you got home safe.

The entire walk was silent, Wooyoung was trying to figure out what to say to you. How was he meant to start a conversation with his soulmate who seemed so freaked out about having a soulmate? Wooyoung wanted to let out a loud groan of frustration and fall to the floor like a toddler throwing a fit, but he didn’t. Instead he turned to look over at you, letting a small sigh fall from his lips. “Can I ask you something?” Wooyoung finally speaks, making you stop to look at him. You nod, having a feeling you knew what he was going to ask. “Why are you so afraid” “I’m not” he gave you an unamused look before holding up his wrist. “I can feel what you feel, remember?” Damn this stupid fucking bond, you mentally cursed. You know he deserved an answer, he was your soulmate and was equally affected by whatever was going on in your life as you were, but you didn’t know him, you didn’t feel comfortable opening up to him, not yet. “Will you be mad if I tell you I can’t tell you” “can’t or won’t” “won’t” you answered truthfully. Wooyoung let out a soft sigh before shaking his head, “I won’t be mad, if you're not comfortable I’m not going to push you-” There was a beat of silence as he ran his hand through his hair as he tried to calm down his frustration. “Will you tell me eventually?” “I don’t know… I hope so” you answer truthfully. That seems to be enough for Wooyoung as he nods and takes your hand in his, motioning for you to lead the way.

It had been two days since the party and you hadn’t seen Wooyoung since, and for some reason, it was killing you. You felt like a total sellout, just a week ago you were perfectly content with never meeting your soulmate, barely giving the idea a thought, but now? Now you felt like you needed to see him. You had heard about this from other people with the soulmate mark, they say that once you meet your soulmate, all you want is to be around them, you thought that was utter bull shit, until now.

Yeosang and Mingi still didn’t know, and you weren’t about to tell them. You knew that once you did they would tell you how much of an idiot you were being. All you had to do was talk to him, get to know him and then maybe explain why you think soulmates are overrated, but you were scared that you would break around him, and give into the system you despised.

“It’s been two days, you need to get out of bed” Yeosang stated as he yanked your covers off you. “What even happened, why are you so moppy” Mingi asked as he helped Yeosang get you to stand. “Nothing” you mumbled, allowing them to push you into the bathroom so you could brush your teeth and get ready for class. “Come on Y/n, we’re not dumb, we know what’s going on.” You turned to Yeosang with wide eyes, he knew? How? “You’ve done nothing but stare at your soulmate mark for the past two day. So…” “so what” you replied, quickly turning back around to rinse out your mouth. “Who is it bitch” Mingi shouted as he turned you around to look at him. “No one, stop being weird” you tried to dismiss them and walk out but Yeosang blocked the door, staring straight into your eyes. “Who is it” “Who is it” they asked one after another, over and over again until they were basically chanting it in your ear. “Stop it! It’s Wooyoung, god it’s Wooyoung you freaks!” You shouted, quickly pushing past them to go back into your room.

“Wooyoung! The guy who invited us to that party?” Mingi exclaims with wide eyes. “Why didn’t you tell us” “because I knew you guys were going to freak out” “obviously! You found your soulmate that’s huge!” You just shook your head, he didn’t get it, after all these years he still didn’t understand. “Yeosang, I don’t want a soulmate” “no you don’t want an artificial, showy love” “wha-” “Y/n, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve been nothing but closed off and reserved when it comes to the idea of soulmate, but I see you when you see couples, real couples walk down the street, or when you watch those cheesy rom coms or dramas. You want to be loved” Yeosang all but shouts at you. He loves you and he wants nothing but the best for you, but sometimes you could be so stubborn. “You’re afraid of your soulmate using you and your relationship for attention” “I- shut up” you pout, you hate how he knows you so well, it’s sickening.

Yeosang chuckles and takes a seat next to you on your bed, “so, it looks like you have two options, keep pretending that love is gross and disgusting and is the root of all evil, or you can share your concerns to Wooyoung and hope he understands” “what if he doesn’t?” Your voice is so small you ask the question, because you were terrified he wouldn’t, that the person you were meant to be with for the rest of your life would ignore your worries and brush them and you off. “Then me and Mingi will go have a little talk with him and you’ll never have to see him again” Mingi nods rapidly, showing you that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, neither of them would. “You guys suck, you know that'' you tease, allowing Yeosang to pull you into a hug. He hums in response, pulling you closer to ease your anxiety.

You stood in front of Wooyoung’s apartment, eyes trained on the door as you worked up the courage to knock. Which was proving to be a lot harder than you thought. You bring your hand up to the door, fist ready to knock, but you don’t you just stand there- until the door opens. You pull your hand back and step back quickly, you weren’t expecting anyone to open the door. San smiles at you, “you can go in, his room is the last door on the right” “thank you” you mumbled, quietly slipping in as San leaves, probably to attend one of his classes.

Knocking on Wooyoung’s door is a lot easier than knocking on the front door. “Go away” sounds tired and it hurts to think you caused that. “I can’t do that Wooyoung” you respond. In no time at all he’s standing in front of you with wide eyes. His hair is a bit messy and his shirt is on backwards, but he still managed to look so god damn good. Pushing that thought aside, you give him a weak smile, and he returns it, stepping out and closing his door. “I would say let’s talk in my rooms but it’s a bit of a mess right now” you giggle, nodding as you follow him to the living room.

“I’m sorry” is the first thing out of your mouth, “for what?” He seems genuinely confused. Wooyoung didn’t think you did anything wrong, he knew you needed space, it was just giving you that space was harder than he thought. “Y/n you have nothing to be sorry for” he reassures, gently rubbing your knee.You look at him and suddenly your fears of him not understanding melt away, in the short time you knew him, he’s probably the most understanding man you had ever met. He was sweet and kind and caring, how could you think he wouldn’t understand.

So you tell him everything, from how you feel that soulmate love feels fake, artificial, that no one tries, to your fear that he might use you as a way to get attention from others. And He listens, he listens to it all, never once interrupting you, encouraging you to take your time when you struggle to get the words out. He even wiped your tears when you started crying, hell he even started crying himself.

“Y/n-” He speaks up after you finish. He takes your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze, “-I know my words won’t be enough to reassure you, so I’ll show you” he smiles. When you give him a confused look he smiles even harder, “I will show you that love isn’t superficial and I’ll show you that I will never use you, because I would never want to hurt you Y/n.” He speaks with so much sincerity that it overwhelms you, causing tears to effortlessly fall from your eyes. “All I have ever wanted was for my soulmate to be happy, and if I can make you happy, I will” Your body reacts before your brain can and you're immediately on him, hugging him so tightly as you let your happy tears flow freely. You don’t say anything, and neither does he, but you don’t have to, because both of you know that everything will be alright, as long as you’re together.

“Awww!” Wooyoung doesn’t let go of you as the two of you turn to see the owner of the voice. “Yun, you have terrible timing dude” Wooyoung grumbles to his roommate Yunho. “I’m sorry but that was just so sweet-” “get out” Wooyoung whined as he pulled you closer, making you laugh. Yunho mocks Wooyoung before giving you a joking bow, “it was nice to meet you Y/n” he says as he playfully winks. Wooyoung chases his friend out of the room before returning back to you. “Movie?” He questions and you nod, smiling up at him, “a movie sounds nice.”

#jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung au #soulmate au #soulmate #ateez au #ateez fanfic #ateez soulmate au #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop au #kpop soulmate au

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monstas1ut2 · 3 years

Text

1/3 (Eren Yeager)

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Bitches is my sons, that's why I be like, "Chile"

Chile, chile, chile, chile, ch-i-i-i-chile

At the lowest volume, Nicki was spitting bars. The LED lights on the brightest red there's to come as the window was covered with black out curtains. It happened to be bright outside but who opens their curtains at 8 am in the morning..? People who are productive and that's not you.

"Don't spend hours in there, brat."

A pout came onto your face, almost sucking your teeth... it wasn't going to be long until you were finished. Nonetheless though, your father always thinks you take hours to get ready to go somewhere.

"Im not ,daddy... Ion even wear makeup no more.. so it won't take long.."

Leaning towards the mirror, and pressing the lipgloss tip against your soft lips, your thoughts came around to your father.

Levi Ackerman, he's a short male who is quite intimidating, he IS intimidating. Despite his height, he's always winning a battle, whether it's verbal or physical. Which is why you always fail to win an argument against him. This was noticeable when you moved to his house ten months ago.

Before living with Levi, you were living with Hange.

Hange co-parents with Levi, the two were never together but they kept you happy and they are both Mom and Dad to you. The two are so different though. Hange would let you skip school, get ready late, almost everything in the book. She had to stop you from getting a sugar daddy though-

Levi is strict, he doesn't want anyone or thing touching his pretty Princess. Yes you're not biologically his but he still is your father, the only one you'd ever had. He taught you things, showed you the great life. He tried to get you to speak a bit more proper but he just stopped, oddly enough, he wanted you to embrace everything you had to offer.

It was a pain learning about your background, Hange was bad at doing anything for you as well. In result of this, your hair has dreads. Watching YouTube videos was Levi's new thing when you were younger. He managed to skillfully put dreads in your hair and... now they look quite amazing. Very long and pretty on you.

That's something you embrace, those pretty dreads. Knowing that your father put them in first , is one reason as to never take them out.

"I'm done, and, Mom said stop ignorin her... she wanna have a picture of me.. since it's my last year I guess.. ion know.. but she blowin up my phone.."

A bit of a smile casting on your brown skinned face. Fiddling with the phone in your hand. Today you were wearing a Jean like skirt and a black top to go with. Your med-long nails being a mix of white and gold, it complimented the melanin of your skin.

Levi glared at his phone that was vibrating on the nearest table and he'd sighed inwardly. Hange was so excited for your last year, while Levi was not. He also hates the fact that you are now going to the same school that he works at... the only bad thing being... the men there are complete perverts and prudes.

"Tell that bratty friend of yours to do it-"

"Connie isn't a brat, he just a lil mental..."

A lot of bald guys seemed to be mental, or is that just... stereotypical to say? Eh, either way, your Connie was mental. The guy was hilarious, he always knows how to put a smile on your face. Even though you two used to be fairly seperated. You now go to his school so at least you'll have one friend to lean on.

"dad, can you at least be happy for me...? It's my last year of school, not my last year of me bein in ya house.. cuz ion know how to cook... or do adult stuff.." a sheepish smile came upon your face, just staring at your father who happened to be suppressing a smile. He eventually did not though, but... you are the only person who can make him smile..

"I know, you burned down a kitchen before.." An evil smirk cascaded on his pale face. He knew that would hit you where it hurts, considering you were now silent but squinting your eyes playfully. It definitely wasn't Levi's kitchen, it was Hange's kitchen.. she had to get it remodeled.

Honestly, Levi liked that you couldn't cook, that way, douche bag men will stay away from you and it'll prevent them from making you barefoot and pregnant in a kitchen... he overthinks okay?

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Gripping your wrist ever so tightly, the two of you were walking towards the huge school. It was more of a modern taste, probably because the school was built only 6 years ago. The scale of the school had caused your body to overheat from anxiety. So actually, Levi was pulling you towards the school, no effort needed.

Once that door was open, it was all over. The main entrance had a pretty scenery. It was pictures and everything, though something that was odd was that black people were limited, looked like-

Okay okay, you're overthinking, but this school really doesn't have black people. If they do, they are in sports... which is why there was a man constantly talking on and on about female's basketball team...

You have to admit, you are a stallion.

"She doesn't want to be on the team... Shadis... stop yelling in her face.."

A bit of a concerned smile came upon your face as you glanced towards your father. Who only gave a soft look towards you. Levi may be insensitive at times but when it comes to you being nervous.. he's there.

"Where the hell is the principle..." Levi grumbled under his breath, he was quite late for his class.. but he had to make sure you were going to be fine.. like the worried father he is.

And Like on cue, a fine.. smexy blonde man came from the back door of the front office.. oooh.

His eyebrows were thick and he had this smile on his face. Like he knew who you were, though at the same time he probably already did. This man was in pictures at home, Levi knew him personally.

Apparently this man changed your diaper when you were little too.. so.. low chance of him seeing you any different..

Principal Smith... oohhh

"Levi, I told you yesterday, she'll be fine in my hands.. I can make sure she gets to every class. I'll also make sure nobody messes with her.." Erwin hummed out, knowing these words that came from Levi last week. His voice was deep and sincere, his pretty blue eyes glancing you over.. gawd oh mighty.

"And?" Levi's eyes squinted hard, his face quite serious about the last statement that Erwin seemed to pass by... or forgotten.. Man, someone would think Levi is the principal... and not Erwin.

"I'll make sure Yeager stays away from her.."

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

The bell had rung oh so suddenly, the anxiety in you causing you to need to go to the bathroom but... your ancestors had to come down.

They whispered into your ear and explained that you are the baddest bitch in the world. Nobody can take that away from you, nor can the stupid anxiety.

"This is my daughter, (Y/n)... "

The baddest bitch with anxiety...

Every single eye was on you, in front of the class... it was obvious that most were just curious about you, mixed with shocked. When they heard the other day about getting a new student, they figured that it'll be someone... like them. At the same time though.. they could get used to the.. balance of the room.

The window across the room was beaming on your brown skin and it happened to make you look like a goddess. Your lipgloss sparkling as you glanced around, a soft smile on your face. Honestly, that only happened because of the fact that.. your bald friend was waving to you..

Connie...

The other day, a deal was made... Between you and your father. Who is also now your teacher for first period.

The deal was, you clean your room spotless and you get to sit next to Connie in class. Guess who succeeded?...

Your arms wrapped around male as he was blushing a tad. Being almost manhandled by you was everyone's dream at the moment. Especially a male who was behind you and Connie's table. He had this cool haircut, his face was long too but it fit his features.

"Why is she hugging the egg..."

"Jean you're just jealous.." the person who said this happened to be playing with their pencil. She had black hair and.. freckles.. it was cute. She looked mean though.

"Okay and..?"

Connie then began to of course, show off his best friend.. who happened to be you. Apparently what happened was that he told everyone about you one day. Nobody believed him, and Jean being the asshole he is.., he wanted answers so he -reluctantly- asked Levi if he had a daughter...

They weren't expecting someone like you...

Nor was.. this brown haired male who had his eye on you ever since you came in. His intimidating... blue, greenish looking eyes.. it's not something you failed to realize... but at the same time, you could feel your father's eyes as well.

"That's Eren over there, by Armin and Mikasa... he's a little coo-coo... so just talk to Armin and Mikasa.. then that's Bert , Annie, and Reiner, and Ymir, Jean, Sasha is the one eating and Historia.."

Honestly, you were never one to listen to someone when they say don't do something... Connie said don't talk to Eren... but some how... with the fluttering of your eyelashes.. you gave the long haired boy a wink. The wink sending him a burst of confidence that he already had..

it just got worse..

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ Masterlist 2

#black reader #poc reader #eren x black reader #three part #aot imagines #aot x black reader

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procrastinatingsapphictrash · 3 years

Text

Can’t get over her

Word count: 5010

Genre: A little angst with a little fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: Little bit of swearing (let me know if I need to add more)

Summary: Reader has always had a bit of a crush on Natasha but it’s unrequited. She lets Tony and Wanda take her to a club and Nat starts acting differently.

A/N: This is not a request, I just felt like writing this story. I’m super nervous about this because I’m not sure if it’s very good but I thought I would post it in case anyone is interested. This is my first x reader fic and first Natasha/Marvel fic so I wasn’t sure how to write it. That being said I hope you enjoy, and if you do, I’m always open to take requests! Btw this is completely unimportant but even though this fic is a medium length, it’s the longest story I’ve actually completed so I feel proud of myself for that!

“Y/n!” A voice rang out loudly disrupting your sleep.

“Ughhhh,” you groaned, “what do you want?” Instead of an answer the door to your room gets thrown open loudly, allowing all the light to come in. You bury yourself under the blankets, partly to stop your eyes from seeing the light and partly to hide the fact that you were wearing Avengers themed pyjamas.

“Rise and shine sweetheart!” You hear Tony’s voice mock. Reluctantly you poke your head out of the blankets just enough so you can see and squint at your best friend/mentor just in time to see him rush off, probably to wake up another unfortunate avenger. When you first joined you never expected to like Tony at all, much less consider him your best friend or look up to him. You had heard rumors of him being inappropriate with women and while his jokes most certainly were and you did occasionally catch him staring at your boobs he never did anything creepy to make you uncomfortable and inside he was a good man, way more so than you expected.

All that in mind you decide to get out of bed to see why Tony woke you up because he (probably) wouldn’t wake you up for no reason. Taking a minute to change out of the avenger pyjamas and into some clothes as well as brush your hair you wander downstairs. On the way down you bump into Clint who unlike you has made absolutely no effort to look presentable and looks like he just rolled out of bed. You say a quick hello but he just grunts in return, not even looking at you. Inwardly laughing about how much Clint hates to be awake in the morning you continue downstairs to meet up with the rest of the avengers who are varying degrees of awake. Most seemed to be like you; awake and fairly alert but not happy about it. Clint was probably the most asleep and Tony the most awake considering he was practically bouncing off the walls. Looking around you see everyone except for Thor and Natasha. Thor wasn’t there very often because he wasn’t from earth and Natasha usually avoided group activities at all costs to your displeasure since you had a secret (not very secret) crush on the assassin.

“So why did you wake us up, at an ungodly hour may I add, and bring us down here?” You ask Tony, curious.

“That information is above your clearance level.” He replies somewhat sarcastically.

“Does anybody else know what is going on?” you ask. “Or did Tony wake me up for no reason, in which case I’m going back to bed.” They all shift guiltily on their feet except for Clint who seems to be still too tired to pay attention leading you to believe they are all up to something you wouldn’t like. Nobody answers your question so you glare around the room, your eyes landing on Steve. He almost squirms under your gaze and eventually seems to give in.

“I’m sorry Y/N, this wasn’t my idea and thinking back on it we probably shouldn’t-”

“We are giving you a makeover and finding you a date.” Tony cuts Steve off.

“Seriously??!??!??” You half shout. “What makes you think I want to go on some random date you guys set up? If I want to go on a date I can find one myself.”

“Y/N…” Wanda says softly, reminding you to stay calm.

“Don’t Y/n me,” you say, still angrily yet quieter, “I can find my own dates, thank you very much.” Tony gives a small snort of laughter in response to this.

“Sure you can kid. I mean it’s not like you haven’t been on a date in over two years. Or that you’re harboring a crush for our resident scary assassin that prevents you from dating others.” You glare at him but stay silent because all of what he said is true. In your head you excuse the not dating off as being busy because you are a hero yet almost everybody on the team is dating someone and it all seems to be working out fine.

“Look Y/n,” Tony says softly which is a rarity for him, “I know you wish something could happen between you and Romanoff but it hasn’t happened yet and likely never will. You need to get over her and back out there. Besides we weren’t planning on choosing your date for you, we were just planning to go clubbing later with you.”

“Ok,” you agree begrudgingly, “I’ll do it, I just don’t see the need to wake me up at 7 in the morning if we aren’t going out until tonight. Also does everybody need to be here right now?”

“I second that,” Clint says in a voice still rough from sleep, “just because I helped planning a little bit does not mean I had to wake up early to have this conversation. I’m going back to bed.”

Wanda rolls her eyes at him before turning to you, “No not everyone has to be here right now, Tony just got a little over excited. As for you, as we said we are giving you a makeover which means we have to go to the hair appointment I set up plus I was thinking we could go shopping since we almost never have time to. Besides Natasha gets back from her solo mission sometime later today, so we wanted to talk with you when she wasn’t around.”

“Ok,” you respond with a little bit of excitement, “when do we leave?”

“Right now! We can have brunch while we’re out!”

“Yes and then we can go get our nails done and gossip!” Tony says in a fake voice. Both you and Wanda turn to look at him exasperated. “Ok fine, maybe not but I am coming and we are gossiping. Also I need to find a good birthday present for Pepper’s birthday next week.”

“Well that’s good you’re coming because unless you want the same reaction as last year, you’re going to need a lot of help.” Wanda replies. You laugh a little as the three of you leave the tower, Wanda and Tony continuing their mock argument about Tony’s gift giving skills.

Five hours later and you severely regretted going along with their plan. You were already exhausted and still had so much to do before going clubbing. You had already bought an outfit plus a few others which wouldn’t be so bad except Wanda and Tony made you try on what you believed to be the whole store before they seemed satisfied with your look. You had also gotten your nails done and were currently finishing up a lovely brunch which consisted of waffles, maple syrup and some fruits. That would have been enjoyable if not for the fact that Tony and Wanda alternated between nagging you about not chipping a nail and teasing you about your pathetic love life. It was a well known fact in the tower that while they didn’t hate each other, Tony and Wanda didn’t usually get along well but that was probably for the best since together they were ruthless. They seemed to have decided that the time for brunch was over so sighing you followed them out of the restaurant after Tony paid the bill. That’s the one positive at least, all of it was free for you thanks to Tony.

Another five hours later and you could honestly say you were looking forward to the night more than you thought you would. You were currently looking in the mirror in your room and although usually you tended to be indifferent towards your body, sometimes even insecure, you had to admit that you looked pretty hot. The dress was in the perfect colour to bring out your eyes according to Wanda and although it was the perfect balance between classy and slutty, revealing a bit of skin and showing off your assets while still leaving it to the imagination. You also were carrying a black purse which matched your nails and shoes. Your makeup was perfectly done, naturally showing you beauty but adding a little extra glimmer. The thing you were most proud of however and the most noticeable change you had made was your hair. Before you had hair that when completely straight could reach your waist but now it was barely long enough to tuck behind your ears. When you first got to the hair salon you were planning on just trimming it and straightening in it but when you got in the chair something came over you and you just decided to chop it all off.

BANG! The door to your room barges open and Wanda comes flying in.

“Damn girl! You look hot as fuck!” You blush profusely at her words managing to stammer out a thank you. You have never been good at taking compliments because you always get a little shy and awkward.

Tony pokes his head around the doorframe and gives a whistle. “You are smoking hot Y/n, I mean if I didn’t have Pepper I would be all over you. You ready to go?” Not waiting for an answer he turns and starts towards the elevator. You follow but not before exchanging an eye roll with Wanda about Tony’s words. The elevator ride is short and smooth thanks to Tony’s engineering so you don’t have enough time to succumb to the urge of placing your hands on the bars and pushing while lifting your feet. The elevator beeps, Jarvis informing you that you’ve reached the ground level and the doors open. You step out ready to get on with your night but the sight of Natasha just back from a mission freezes you in your tracks.

“Hi,” you say lamely, “I thought you were supposed to get back earlier today?”

“We had some intel that wasn’t fully correct but luckily it didn’t take too long to fix. You look different, where are you heading off to?”

You glance at Tony and Wanda for help because for some reason you feel awkward telling her but they don’t seem to know what you want so you answer anyways. “We’re going clubbing, I’m kinda nervous since I haven’t been in awhile but Wanda helped me get ready-”

“Hey I helped too!”

You ignore Tony’s protest and continue to speak. “-and I think it should be fun. Also there will for sure be hot girls there which is always a plus.”

“Seems like it should be fun,” she responds in her monotone ‘I don’t care’ voice that you hate, “Good luck with the girls though, because your hair looked better long, I don’t like it like this.” You don’t usually get offended easily but you feel tears spring to your eyes at her comment. The only good part is that she doesn’t notice because she’s already walking away, swaying her hips, either not knowing or caring that she hurt you.

Tony and Wanda rush over to you. “Oh sweetie,” Wanda comforts while wrapping an arm around you, “don’t listen to her, that’s not true at all!”

“Then why would she say it?” You ask, careful to keep your voice from cracking because you hated showing when you were upset.

“I don’t know and honestly I don’t give a fuck.” Tony replies. “Just don’t think about it too much, the whole point of this night is to get over her anyways.” You give him a small smile at that. Tony is good with words which translates into being good at comforting people. You know he’s right so although the comment is still upsetting you do your best to push it out of your mind. Locking arms with both Tony and Wanda you pull them towards the door and into the waiting limo. You couldn’t help but smile at the way Tony ruffled your hair as you stepped in or how Wanda kept running her fingers over her arm in an attempt to be reassuring. You had the best friends.

The ride over seemed way shorter than it was supposed to be and before you knew it the limo was stopped to let the three of you out. You take a deep breath and wipe your sweaty palms on your dress before smiling and stepping out after Tony and Wanda. Nobody seems to have noticed the three of you yet which was a good thing. Being Avengers Tony and Wanda were pretty much celebrities and often got swarmed by groups of fans. Technically you were an avenger as well but like Natasha and Clint it was only because you were a Shield so while you did get recognized it wasn’t as often and only tended to happen if you were with other avengers. You make your way inside, splitting from Tony and Wanda at the door. The plan was for them to go to the bar and look over you from there while you went straight to the dance floor because you preferred to be anonymous tonight and they would ruin that and also you didn’t feel like getting drunk. That was the plan at least but you suspected that they would get too drunk to continue watching over you because it had been stressful lately with a lot of paperwork and they needed to unwind. Wanda had practically confirmed that fact when she gave you permission to leave without them.

You step over to the dance floor glancing around to see if there looked to be any single women already there. The reason you had chosen this club was because although it wasn’t lgbtq+ exclusive, it was open to everybody and therefore frequented by many members of the community.

Just as you were glancing around you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Wanna dance?” You spin around to find the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen, apart from Natasha. It bothers you that you’re using Natasha as your standard and comparing other girls to her but you brush that off.

“I would love to!” At your response she takes your hand, pulling you into the crowd and starts to dance. You dance as well and slowly you lose track of time as you loosen up and your dancing with the girl becomes less and less innocent. You can feel yourself caring less about what Natasha thought although as great as this girl seemed to be you knew you weren’t ready for a relationship so you hoped she wasn’t looking for one. After what could be a couple of hours because you’ve completely lost track of time, you and the girl whose name you still don’t know head over to a corner of the room and take a seat on two of the stools that were provided.

“Hi, I feel like I should know your name by now, I’m Y/n.” You introduce yourself.

“Wait I thought you looked familiar!” She exclaims. “You’re the Y/n that’s a part of the avengers right?”

You awkwardly give a nod and gesture towards the bar where you can see Tony and Wanda who have obviously had at least a few drinks each. “Tony and Wanda came with me. They are just over there but I didn’t particularly want the spotlight tonight so I split from them at the door.”

“I understand, I must admit I have no desire to be famous. I’m Jamie by the way” She says with a cute little giggle before her mood seems to be more solemn. “I can’t believe I’m saying this to a literal avenger and if my friends find out they are going to kill me but I’m sorry if you’re looking for a relationship but I just got out of a serious relationship and am not ready for another one quite yet.”

You let out a relieved sigh. “I’m not looking for a relationship either, because I’m trying to get over my feelings for a friend.”

“Phew!” She replies. “But tell me more about this ‘friend’ of yours.” You take a minute to think before deciding that Jamie could be trusted. You begin to spill all about your feelings for Natasha and how she didn’t seem interested and what she said to you on your way here. Jamie listens sympathetically the entire time before telling you all about how she thought her ex was the one but it turns out she was emotionally abusive. Even though you just met you talk like old friends, offering advice on serious topics but also chatting about random things. You have 3 more drinks each and after every drink your barriers crumble more and more. Eventually you exchange numbers so you can meet up again although you both agreed it would be a platonic meetup. Just as you were giggling about a joke you couldn’t even remember, you saw Jamie tense up and a second later you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turn your head in anger expecting it to be some creepy guy trying to hit on you but it turns to confusion when you see Natasha.

“Can we talk?” She asks, giving Jamie a dirty look. “At the tower. Without her.”

“Why?” You ask. “I’m having fun here Nat.” You specifically say her name as you speak so Jamie knows who you’re talking to.

“Just come home.” She says not answering your question, instead tugging at your wrist lightly. You sigh not knowing what to do so you glance at Jamie for help.

She shrugs and then says, “I have a ride home planned if you want to leave, but I wouldn’t mind staying longer if that’s what you want.”

You make a quick decision in your head before responding, “Ok, we’ll go back to the tower but there better be a good reason.” You then turn to Jamie, “Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, and then we can figure out when to hang out.”

“Of course,” she agrees leaning forwards to hug you while whispering in your ear, “good luck but remember not to let her treat you badly just because you’re in love with her.” You pull back from the hug and smile at her as Natasha’s hand moves down to your own as she starts walking, pulling you along with her. You can barely think straight, you have no idea what is going on with Natasha or why she’s acting so weirdly. You glance over to Tony and Wanda to see if they’ve noticed what’s going on but just as you suspected they were drunk out of their minds. If they were normal friends you would have worried about them but you knew Tony’s drivers would get them home safe because although Tony was more responsible with Pepper around this was not the first time they’ve had to haul his drunk ass back to the tower.

Natasha continues to pull you out the door and over to her parked motorcycle where she hands you a helmet and one of her leather jackets. Still not speaking she hops on and motions for you to get on behind her. You swing your leg over the side somewhat awkwardly and scoot forwards so you can grab onto her waist. Once she’s sure you’re secured properly she hits the gas, the motorcycle roaring as it starts. You’ve never been on her motorcycle before so at first you are a bit nervous but after a couple of minutes you start to feel more comfortable. At this point your only nerves come from holding Natasha and wondering what she wants to talk to you about and not the motorcycle ride. Compared to the ride over to the club, this ride feels like it’s taking forever as you start to go over all the important reasons Nat would want to talk to you. You still didn’t know how to feel about everything because she insulted you earlier and now is making you feel important. To protect your feelings you tell yourself that there is probably a mission or a meeting that came up last minute and this isn’t just Natasha wanting to talk. It’s improbable because if that was the case she would have outright said so but you can’t think of any more plausible reasons off the top of your head. Luckily before you can analyze her strange behavior anymore you reach the tower and after parking underground you follow Natasha upstairs into the main living area which is obviously deserted as it is now between 3 and 4 am.

“So why did you want to talk?” You ask, breaking the silence as you take a seat on the couch.

“Why did you go to a club?” She asks, also sitting down on the other end of the couch, avoiding your question.

A surge of anger floods through you and while you don’t shout, you raise your voice a little. “Answer the fucking question Nat. Or did you bring me all the way back just to ask that?”

She looks somewhat surprised that you raised your voice but she keeps hers even. “I just wanted to know. It looked like you were having fun with whoever that girl is.”

“Yeah I was.” You respond, still confused. “But how do you know that?”

Natasha avoids eye contact looking everywhere but you. “I was watching you.”

“YOU WERE WHAT?” You shout before lowering your voice to avoid waking up the whole tower. “Why the fuck were you spying on me?”

“I- I wasn’t.” She replies seemingly caught off guard by your tone of voice. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“Tony and Wanda were with me.” You respond confused. There’s something she’s not telling you that’s making her act weird. She knew you could handle yourself so she obviously was not telling the truth, or at least omitting details. She hasn’t responded to your last statement, instead choosing to look at you in the weird way she does that makes you feel like you’re being interrogated. You decide that if she isn’t going to talk, you won’t either so you pull your phone out of your jacket to check it. You see a text from Jamie saying she got home ok with a little smiley face at the end that causes you to smile. You type back a quick reply, just saying you’re glad she’s safe and that you were with Natasha right now and were probably going to bed soon so you’d text her tomorrow. She wished you luck and goodnight with another little smiley face that made you smile again. Putting your phone away you look back up at Natasha only to find out she’s glaring at you.

Unsure of what could have changed her attitude towards you, you ask, “What?”

“Who were you talking to?” She asks ignoring your question for the second time tonight.

You sigh, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business but if you really must know I was just saying goodnight to the girl from the club, Jamie.”

“So that’s her name.” She says wrinkling her nose. Now you’re really confused as to what Natasha is thinking. You couldn’t tell on normal days but usually she acted rationally and never was like this.

“Why do you say it like that?” You ask.

“I don’t like her.”

“Why don’t you like her?”

“I just don’t.” She answers, offering no explanation. Although you do want to find out why Natasha doesn’t like her you’re too tired to spend the time asking questions so you stand up to go to bed.

“Where are you going?” She demands.

You sigh for what feels like the thousandth time of the night. “I’m going to bed. You wanted to talk to me but won’t actually talk, and when I ask you questions, instead of responding you insult my new friend.”

“Friend?” She questions.

“Jamie.” You say confused because you thought the answer was obvious.

“Oh.” She responds, “I’m sorry, please stay.” You think about it for a second, deciding to stay so you go to sit down again, but before you do Natasha scoots over to your end of the couch pulling you down into her side. Your entire body freezes up because you’re so unsure of what to do. Natasha never initiated physical contact of any kind but now she was practically hugging you. Seeming to realize how uncomfortable you were, she quickly moves away.

“Sorry,” she mutters, “That was stupid.”

“No, no, it’s fine, you can come back.” You respond quickly. As much as you were uncomfortable, it felt really nice to have her by your side. She somewhat shyly shifts back over to you but this time instead of wrapping her arm around your shoulders she nuzzles into your side, maneuvering your arms so they wrap around her. You have no idea what’s going on right now but you can’t help but smile as you look down at her. She looks cute and relaxed, with her hair covering parts of her face. Thinking about her hair reminds you of her opinion of your new haircut. You bite your lip nervously as you debate asking her about that or not. You definitely don’t want to ruin the cuddly mood that she’s in now but the comment still bothers you, not to mention you never actually found out why she took you home from the club.

“Um Natasha?” You ask in a timid voice. “Is my haircut really that bad?”

“Of course not, I think it suits you.” She responds smoothly. “I lied to you earlier.”

You smile at that. “Thank you but why?”

She takes a deep shaky breath before speaking. “Promise this won’t change anything between us first, that we will stay friends.”

“Ok,” You respond, earnest but confused, “I promise.”

“I didn’t like the idea of you going clubbing and coming home with some one night stand or even worse a girlfriend because I have feelings for you. So I was childish and took out my frustrations on you by pretending I didn’t like you. I’m sorry.” She’s looking up at you now, the most nervous you’ve ever seen her. Your mind is exploding with this new information and your heart feels so happy you can’t even believe what is going on.

“Is that why you were watching me with Jamie at the club and then told me you had to talk to me?”

“Yeah”

After a few more seconds of shocked silence that feels like hours to Natasha you finally speak. “I know I promised that this wouldn’t change anything between us but I don’t think it can be the same.” She starts to pull away from your side but before she can you lean over and press your lips against hers. At first you are hesitant but once she starts kissing back you gain confidence, the kiss getting more heated. After a minute or two you both pull away to catch your breath, smiling at each other.

Natasha lightly swats you on the arm. “You’re evil.” You giggle a little in response. “I was so worried for a second there, I thought you would be weirded out by that.” She continues also giggling slightly.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that I had feelings for you,” you confess to her, “it was actually Tony and Wanda’s idea for me to go out because we all thought you didn’t like me so they thought it was a good idea to get over you.”

“Well that plan failed,” she says smirking, “I guess you can’t get over me.”

You look at her and yawn. “No I guess I can’t.”

At your yawn she glances at the clock. “We better get you to bed, it’s almost the time Steve wakes up for training.” You would like to spend more time with Natasha but you’re too tired to argue so you just nod and follow her as she pulls you up and leads you to your room, holding your hand the whole way. Inside your room she sits on your bed while you change, politely looking away. Once you’re in pyjamas you hold a pair out to her and she looks at you confused.

“Do you want to stay the night?” You ask her. She eagerly nods, accepting the pyjamas as you open your covers and crawl into bed. As soon as she’s done she turns off the lights and hops in behind you, spooning you. You sigh as you feel her plant a kiss on the back of your head. You can barely keep your eyes open and although you still haven’t talked about exactly what your new relationship with Natasha was yet, you were excited for what was to come. Your last thought before you drifted off to sleep was complete bliss as Natasha kept planting soft kisses on the back of your neck, head and shoulders.

The next morning you hear a loud pounding at your door. You groan and slowly gain consciousness, smiling as you remember last night and the redhead still cuddling you. Just like yesterday Tony doesn’t bother to wait for you to answer and instead barges straight in. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you spooning and he starts to splutter. You laugh at him with Natasha until he shouts for the other avengers to come. Multiple pairs of footsteps make your way to your bedroom and you see the shocked faces of a few of the other avengers, including Wanda, Steve and Clint.

“What,” Natasha says speaking up, “can’t a girl cuddle with her girlfriend in peace?” Steve immediately apologizes, ushering everyone out of the room and closing the door.

You raise your eyebrow. “Girlfriends?”

“I assumed so, if you want.” She responds.

“I like the sound of that...girlfriend.” You both smile at each other. You definitely did not complete your goal of getting over Natasha and instead fell further in love but you were totally ok with that.

#marvel #natasha #romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fic #marvel fanfiction #tony stark #wanda maximoff #clint barton #orignial character

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pekotranslates · 3 years

Text

Traces of Two Pasts: Episode Tifa - pgs 40-52

Disclaimer: Also, I started this for fun so that my friends who don't have access can read it. I'm just another fan like you. With that said, I do try to be as faithful to the original source material as possible, and for those of you who can read Japanese, please support the author by buying his book.

Not everyone agreed with Chief Zonder's decision. The elderly—a major force in the village—began to make noise. They seemed to take a liking to Zangan's longevity exercises, and regretted not being able to memorize what was taught to them. They wanted someone to check if their poses were correct, and wished to learn the remaining exercises he was supposed to have taught them.

The village chief paid a visit at dinnertime.

"Hey, Tifa..." he said with a sullen expression. "Will you teach the old folks how to do Zangan's exercises properly?"

"Why Tifa?" her father asked. She just knew he would ask.

"Because Zangan named her. Told me that if we ever needed someone to mentor us, Tifa would be qualified. Said that she had the most controlled form* out of everyone who gathered there that day.

Kata, which means “form” in Japanese, is the term used to describe specific sequences of motion that are used to practice technique and execution in martial arts

It pleased her knowing that someone spoke of her like that when not in her presence, but it also caused her to be slightly embarrassed.

"Zonder, don't get my family involved."

"Aw, c'mon! I'm already in big trouble as it is. The old folks just won't let it go!"

"Hmph!" Brian Lockhart snorted. He enjoyed seeing the village chief squirm. She couldn't tell whether or not they actually got along with each other.

"Tifa, what do you think?"

"I'd just be teaching the elderly people those exercises, right? If that's all there is, then I'd like to try."

"Tifa..." her father began, but he swallowed back his complaint. He knew that it wasn't good for her to have too much time on her hands. "Well, if you're gonna do it, then do it right."

While preparing breakfast, Tifa heard a knock at the door, and opened to a woman’s face she barely recognized. It was an elderly woman called "Mon Amie" who was an aunt of sorts to Chief Zonder. Her hair was pulled back into a bun so tight that it looked like her eyes were being pulled straight up!

"Good morning to you. It's been a long time, Tifa. I heard that Zonder told you all about it. How about 2 gil per hour?"

"Sorry?" She had not heard about any renumeration.

"Well, you are thirteen now. Not a little girl anymore, so that doesn't cut it for you, eh? Alright then, how about 4 gil?"

"No, I don't want any money."

"That won't do. We are taking this very seriously, and you will be properly paid for your work."

No matter how much Zangan trusted her, would she really be up to the task? But, being able to earn her own money sounded very appealing, as if a whole new world had opened up to her.

Mon Amie took Tifa's silence as her wanting to bargain for higher wages.

"6 gil."

"Alright. 6 gil it is then."

"Brian never did leave the village. He wanted to keep Thea all to himself." Mon Amie suddenly brought up her parents during their exercise routine at the public square.

"Really?" said Tifa, adjusting Mon Amie's arm posture. She needed to get her to straighten her back and push out her chest a bit more for the desired result.

"She was quite the popular one, that child."

It wasn’t very pleasant hearing her mother being called "that child", yet Tifa encouraged her. Listening to the elderly tell old stories was a part of her job. The responsibility she felt from receiving wages tempered her patience.

"You should leave the village," said Mon Amie suddenly. "Doesn't it sound like fun going around to different places with Master Zangan?"

"It sure does."

"Alright, you don't have to play along with me. No need for you to learn things like that. Just think about it carefully, okay? Something needs to change for women here in Nibelheim."

Tifa silently nodded as she propped up Mon Amie's arm.

"There weren't any women around in my day who held this kind of thinking. But that Strife girl”—she was speaking of Cloud's mother—"tried to leave. Not sure if it's because she hated it here, or if she dreamed of going to the big city."

Mon Amie abruptly altered her pose, ruining her base form.

"To the traditional Nibelheim women, she seemed pretty unconventional. We all refused to accept her ways, but secretly felt the same. Even though we scolded her, deep down inside we were cheering her on. We even felt jealous of her for carving out her own path. Perhaps she changed something in us, little by little.”

Tifa lifted up Mon Amie's knee. "Up high like this. Thank you."

She supported Mon Amie as the woman’s body rocked back and forth.

"But Claudia remained in the village, didn't she?" said Tifa.

"Well, that’s because she fell in love. You see, a man traveled here. Claudia was helping out at the inn at the time. She must have been taken in by the outside air he brought with him. And he was a pretty fellow. I’m sure you see it when you look at Cloud. That boy got the best of both his parents!”

“Right…”

“But, just like the wind, he just couldn’t keep still. Not sure if Cloud learned how to walk yet, but around that time he told her he would go to the mountains, but never came back. They found his belongings though. His body probably got eaten by monsters. You were lucky you didn’t meet the same fate.”

Tifa braced herself. Was she going to bring up that incident?

“Cloud egging you on to climb Mt. Nibel… Maybe that was in his blood.”

Mon Amie’s body began to sway. Tifa had stopped holding onto her causing her to lose her balance. She couldn’t regain her footing in time, and fell flat down on her backside.

“Alright then," said Tifa. "Now let’s use the opposite leg. Please lift up your knee.”

Tifa held out a helping hand to her, but Mon Amie refused and got up on her own.

“Quite strict for a pretty face.”

“That’s because I get paid 6 gil to be.”

Before long, she became more attentive. She noticed Mon Amie lifting up her other knee, but it was at the wrong height again. While Tifa helped her to adjust, Mon Amie said, “You really don’t remember anything? You know, about that accident you got into?”

She was eight years old when she got into that accident on Mt. Nibel. Cloud was with her. The villagers chose to believe the story based on Emilio and the others’ testimonies, and nothing else could be said about it. Tifa really couldn't remember what happened.

"No, unfortunately not..."

Whether the elderly came to her for exercising or just to chat, it was tougher than she had imagined. Her father laughed at her and said he wouldn't have anything to do with them, even for 100 gil.

They never listened and were set in their ways, even the ones who kept away and smiled modestly at her. They just had a different view on things, and sulked if nobody paid them attention.

The topics they discussed also surprised Tifa, and sometimes hurt her too. She disliked whenever they brought up how her body looked so grown. There would be someone who sensed her discomfort or resentment, and would try to change the subject, but then it would turn into whom she should be with and things of that nature.

So, all things considered, Tifa preferred hearing them going on about herself rather than her father’s failed romances, or whom her mother used to hang out with before she got married to him. To the elderly townsfolk, her father and others his age were still “the village youth”.

After her day finished and she was about to go to sleep, she thought to herself that maybe there would be a time when she would be the one telling someone else about what happened today, or about some news she heard from another person. Telling the same stories over and over again, everyday just like the next, until she, herself, became just a relic of an era in village history.

※

“They confused me at first, but I got used to being around them, and then it wasn’t so bad anymore. That feeling of wanting someone to talk to—Everyone has that,” explained Tifa.

“So that’s where you learned to entertain guests? From spending your time talking to old folks?” asked Barret.

“Possibly. Maybe that did me good. More and more of the elderly signed up, and they started calling their morning gatherings the ‘Calisthenics Club’.”

“It’s like that at Seventh Heaven too,” said Barret with some intensity.

Aerith urged him to talk.

“It used to be just a small shop owned by this one gramps, but when Tifa started working there, the business picked up. Men crowded the place. Know what I mean, Red?”

“What I’m more interested in is what happened to Zangan afterward? I can sort of imagine based on your fighting style, Tifa...” said Red XIII.

“You’re right. There was a little more that happened before I got to where I'm at.”

※

A month passed after the start of the Calisthenics Club. All morning Tifa would teach the exercises and set aside time for her reading and arithmetic. The afternoon she'd go to the mountains and work hard towards building up her strength and stamina, and then would return home before sunset so her father wouldn’t worry. At night she would examine Zangan's writings and practice her form, reviewing the materials over and over again so as to not overlook anything.

One day, she received a letter from Emilio. He wrote about the fast-paced lifestyle in the big city, and told her about everything he found perplexing: arguments he had had with people, things he ate, the social inequality, and their differences in moral values.

“But whenever I get discouraged, it’s you I think about, Tifa, and then I imagine that day when I’ll come and get you. I'll write to you sometimes and teach you about the city, so you won't be so confused when that time comes.”

Who do you think you are? That's how she honestly felt reading the letter.

Zangan appeared, acting as if nothing had happened. He knocked on the door just in time to greet her father and asked for his permission to call Tifa out, and then led her to the river where they first met.

“Master Zangan, please let me be your student. I want to be stronger.”

“That’s exactly the answer I was looking for, but what’s the matter, Tifa? I sense your impatience. Why are you in such a hurry?”

“That’s not it!” she replied, but felt self-conscious. “No… It’s because I got that letter from my friend.”

“What kind of letter?”

“I think it’s because I don’t want to lose. I don’t want to lose to anyone who left the village.”

“Hmm. My hand-to-hand combat techniques are not meant to be used to make you feel superior to others.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. But the answer to that can only be found through diligent study. All right. I will acknowledge you if you pass my test.”

“Test?”

“Show me everything you’ve learned from Volume 1. You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Tifa performed a sequence of forms from the physical training method.

“One more time, from the beginning.”

“Okay.”

This time Zangan interrupted with instructions.

"Check the book to see the direction your palms should be facing."

Tifa crouched down over the book and flipped through the pages. The form was wrong from the very start. Should have been above not below.

“I was wrong.”

“Try again.”

When she extended both hands and slightly shifted the direction of her palms, she felt a different set of muscles tingling.

“Everything from the Book of Secrets must be obeyed. Don’t try to interpret it another way or decide that your way is better. While disciplining your body, you must learn to be faithful to your decisions. If I take you in as my student, you will become stronger. So, you must cultivate your mind to control that power. The greater and stronger the power to handle, the greater the responsibility of its owner. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

The second time around, Zangan pointed out any minor mistakes she made. Each time she would have to go back and confirm with the Book of Secrets before advancing, which made things take twice as long. Fatigue built up in her arms and legs.

“Alright, now relax and close your eyes. Focus your attention and check the condition of your body. Does it hurt anywhere?”

“My upper back… I wouldn’t say it hurts but it feels like it’s burning...”

She slipped her right hand underneath her left armpit until it touched the lower part of her shoulder blade. Digging her fingers into it felt good.

“Hmph!” Zangan gave a satisfying nod. “That’s your shoulder blade. What you’re pressing into is the trapezius muscle. Surrounding it is your deltoid, infraspinatus, psoas minor and other muscles. The second volume will teach you how to train each one of those muscles on your back,” he said, while holding out a booklet to her. It was Volume 2.

“If you want to live your life with pride then pay close attention to your back. Squeeze your shoulder blades together, chest out. Walking through life with a beautiful posture is also part of your training.”

“Got it.”

“Let’s get started. Well then, onto Volume 2, No. 2-1-1, scapular push-ups.”

Zangan immediately prostrated himself on the ground, and lowered his chest. Tifa hastened to follow his example.

“All you're doing is supporting your whole body with your arms. Concentrate on your shoulder blades. Rotate them outwards—protract, retract, protract.”

It was her first time experiencing those movements. How was she supposed to move to protract her shoulder blades? She couldn’t picture it in her mind. Glancing over at Zangan she noticed he was rotating his shoulders outward, something her cat, Maru, often did.

“You look like a cat,” she said.

“Right. There’s a lot we can learn from cats.”

She focused her attention on her scapula, going up and down, until the repetition of movements were drilled into her body. Zangan rose and watched over Tifa for some time before clearing his throat.

“Good!”

The movements were subtle but still made her perspire.

“That’s because the muscles across your back are wider. Moving them increases the blood flow and raises your temperature, so that’s why you’re working up a sweat.”

After completing Volume 2, Tifa was sweating profusely. She felt unthinkable pain throughout her whole back.

“Alright, any questions? If you do, now’s your chance.”

She wanted to say, yes, but nothing came to mind at the moment.

“If not, then we’ll move onto Volume 3.”

“Huh?” she couldn’t help but shout. Her whole body was screaming in pain. Zangan ignored her and continued.

“Volume 3 is for chest and abs. We’re going to train your front body. The pectoralis major muscle is roughly divided into three parts: upper, middle and lower. There are several different ways to effectively train it, but I’ll teach you the basic concepts.”

“Alright…”

“At your age, your overall motor skills are complete, and in that regard, you excel. You haven’t had any special training, have you? If so, then you must have been born with this. Treasure it.”

“I will.”

She felt energy pour into her body. Perhaps listening to Zangan talk with a relaxed mind helped her to recover from fatigue.

“After a while, we’ll concentrate on building your muscles. But you will not be using any equipment except your body. We won’t be using barbells or dumbbells until you’re much older. Besides, our Zangan-ryu hardly finds them necessary. That is because I prescribe individual fighting styles that suit each of my students. You don’t need arms built like logs or a bulky chest. What you need is to build up a fighting style that will utilize those reflexes, that body, and your speed. Well, what do you want to do? Shall we call it a day?”

“No. Please go on.”

She didn’t want to disappoint the first person who had managed to earn her respect.

“Yes, that’s the spirit! Alright. But we’ll stop here for today. Let’s call this current level of fatigue your limit. Keep it in mind. You have a long way before you can try to challenge that limit to surpass it. Continuity is more important now than ever.”

On their way back, a realization came over Tifa regarding Zangan’s test. It didn't annoy her. If her father tried to make her work like that she’d probably stop talking to him for three days in a row. With those thoughts in mind, she walked her teacher back to the inn.

“Say hello to your father for me.”

As she stood in front of her house she could smell the scent of spices in the air. Spices that her mother liked to use in her best recipe. It was her father’s favorite dish, but since Tifa didn’t really like it, it was hardly ever served at the dining table.

She opened the door and said, “I’m home.”

“Welcome back.” Her father, dressed in an apron, peeked out at her from the kitchen.

“This smell… Huh? Is it mom’s?”

“I was really craving it... Oh, but I made something else for you.”

She was filled with remorse. She didn’t like the way he looked or the tone of voice he used when trying to gauge her mood, but it was all her fault for making it that way.

Novel by Kazushige Nojima

Translated by pekotranslates

Proofread by Eerie

#ffvii #ff7r #tifa lockhart #traces of two pasts #aerith gainsborough

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little-mad · 3 years

Text

A Seat at the Table Pt. 1

~ Prologue Story ~

~ Part 2 ~

Guess who's baaack? Yup, it's Gavin and Rael, ready for another lil adventure. This one is gonna be shorter than Downsides of Thievery, but I have several little pieces planned for this universe so don't worry, these lads aren't going anywhere.

Gavin just wanted to sleep in. Considering he had been...let’s say “self employed” ever since graduating high school, he was unaccustomed to being dragged out of bed at an unholy hour. The past two mornings had been the same way, but somehow he’d managed to scrape himself out of bed. This time however, his body seemed to be holding a protest.

“You need to get up,” a familiar voice called, the same voice that had already urged Gavin awake a couple minutes ago.

The only response Gavin offered was burying his head deeper into the stunningly plush handkerchief that served as his makeshift sheets.

There was a pause, then suddenly he felt a gust of warm air roll over his back. “If you don’t get up on your own, I’m going to have to make you,” the voice was much closer now, in fact it sounded as though the speaker was only a few inches above Gavin. A shiver ran across his spine, but still his tired brain refused to signal any action from the body. The only thing he did manage to do was shoot back an irritable groan.

The hot breath remained for a moment before disappearing. “Good, maybe he’s leaving me alo--” The blanket that had been protecting Gavin from the early morning chill was suddenly ripped away. Before he could even let out a complaint, a firm pressure took hold of either side of his waist.

A less than dignified yelp slipped out of Gavin’s mouth as he was effortlessly snatched out of his bed and lifted up into the air. He didn’t need to turn around to know what had happened, even in his groggy state he could put together the pieces. “What the hell, dude?!” he yelled as he squirmed angrily.

“You can’t say I didn’t warn you,” came Rael’s response as he rotated Gavin around so he was now dangling facing towards him.

Unlike Gavin, the teal-eyed alteon looked perfectly content being up at the asscrack of dawn. He was already dressed in his uniform, and his long black hair was neatly tied back in its usual style. He looked down at Gavin with an amused smirk on his lips, as well as a mischievous glint in his eyes that Gavin couldn’t help but feel responsible for encouraging.

Gavin scowled. “Put me down, Rael,” he ordered with as much authority as an action figure sized person could muster.

Rael’s grin widened, making him look alarmingly like the cat that ate the proverbial canary. “If you insist.” A sharp gasp got caught in Gavin’s throat as the hand holding him abruptly lurched into motion. The last thing he saw was a swath of tan before he was unceremoniously plopped down on the unidentified surface.

Scrambling to his feet, Gavin whipped around to try and make sense of where he’d been placed. It only took a moment before he realized, and when he did his face instantly began to flush red. “I didn’t mean on your lap!” he hissed, his cheeks now a bright red color as a result of being deposited on Rael’s left thigh.

There were several places that Gavin didn’t much like to be due to the fact that being there made him feel like a giant’s pet. On Rael’s lap was a big one. Other ones included being cradled in hands or set on a chest--which Rael had actually done the other day without seeming to realize how embarrassing it would be for the human.

Rael gave a small snicker, something that a couple days ago would have sounded foreign coming from the Imperial Guardsman. “Consider it punishment for not getting up the first, or second time I told you to,” he remarked, looking down at Gavin with unconcealed mirth.

Rather than try to argue, Gavin just glared up at his...mentor? Was that the right word? Parole officer was the closest thing he could think of that fit properly, but it didn’t really fit in with the medieval vibe of the alteon dimension. “Master” was maybe a better term, but Gavin would be damned if he ever referred to Rael as “master.”

Thankfully Gavin didn’t have to suffer in Rael’s lap for long, because a moment later the giant reached down and carefully scooped the human back up.

It was hard to believe how much less skittish Gavin had become about being around Rael’s hands. Over the past couple days they’d made a surprising amount of progress. That wasn’t to say Gavin’s heart rate didn’t pick up every time those oversized appendages came near him, but at least he didn’t have the urge to run for the hills anymore.

Gavin was only in transit for a short moment before being deposited back on the bedside table where his improvised bed resided. Until the palace craftsmen completed the miniature furniture set that the Emperor had commissioned, Rael had provided Gavin with a small wooden crate filled with fabric to sleep in.

Atop the table was also a small pile of clothes. The gray jumpsuit he’d arrived in the alteon dimension in was folded up neatly after having been washed for him. There were also several sets of simple garments that had apparently been painstakingly sewn by giant fingers. The work was certainly impressive, and apparently Gavin could expect even more intricate articles in the future.

“I’m going to get breakfast,” Rael announced, already making his way towards the door. “You’d better be dressed by the time I get back.” He glanced over his shoulder to shoot a warning glare back at Gavin, however the edge was taken off by the slight smile on the man’s lips.

“Yeah, yeah,” the human replied, waving a dismissive hand.

As soon as the alteon was out the door, Gavin let out a low sigh. “He still doesn’t think I can handle eating in the dining hall,” he muttered to himself as he went about getting dressed.

Ever since Gavin had started out as Rael’s assistant, Rael had insisted upon bringing their meals back to the room rather than joining the rest of the members of the Imperial Guard. At first, Gavin had been grateful. After the Ashryn incident, he had no desire to interact with any more soldiers. However, on the second day he’d begun to wonder why exactly Rael seemed so adamant about it. When he had posed the question to the alteon, he had simply responded with “it’s easier this way.”

Despite what many of the people in Gavin’s life might say, he wasn’t stupid. He knew each and every alteon was a potential danger to him. But everyone in the dining hall would be soldiers--soldiers who were bound by the Emperor’s order that Gavin be protected. Surely he would be perfectly safe there?

“I can’t spend this whole year hiding,” he grumbled. Tying the laces of his sneakers was the final touch on his outfit for the day. The human-sized shoes that were being crafted for him by a cobbler would take some time. He’d wondered why, if alteons had magic, they couldn’t just conjure a pair of shoes. But according to Rael, it didn’t work like that.

Either way, until the shoes were completed, he’d have to stick with the ones he’d arrived in the dimension with. They clashed pretty terribly with the loose fitting cotton tunic and fitted brown trousers, but looking fashionable had fallen pretty low on his list of priorities ever since he got arrested.

With no mirror around, Gavin could only hazard a guess as to what he looked like. He ran his fingers through his frequently disobedient brown locks. He felt pretty confident that his hair was a mess, aside from the fact that it pretty much always was, it had also dried uncombed after bathing the previous night.

Rael had taken Gavin to a massive stone basin to bathe in, and the experience was positively magical for the human. While the basin was intended for washing hands, at Gavin’s size the thing was almost like a small swimming pool! The water had been wonderfully warm and filled with lavender scented bubbles. It had been just the thing Gavin needed to unwind after the whirlwind past couple days he’d endured.

“They have the sausages you like again,” Rael announced as he pushed open the door, balancing an enormous tray of food on one hand.

“So you’re not letting me eat at the big kid table again, huh?” Gavin questioned, ignoring the sausage comment despite the fact that he did in fact like them quite a bit.

A stiff look came across Rael’s face as he snapped the door shut behind him. He said nothing at first, remaining silent as he took a seat on his bed with the food tray on his lap. Gavin began to think the guy wasn’t even going to bother responding until finally, “There’s nothing to gain from doing so.”

Gavin folded his arms over his chest, stepping closer to the edge of the bedside table closest to Rael. He hated when he took on that tone. It was the same tone he’d constantly used when they had first met. Gavin had started to think it was dead and gone, but clearly not.

“There’s nothing to gain from staying in here,” he countered.

Rael pressed his lips tightly together, as if there was something he wanted to say but also didn’t want to at the same time. Finally he blew out a long sigh. “I’ll think about it,” was all he said.

His tone wasn’t exactly promising, but Gavin didn’t want to pick a fight so early in the morning. His brain wasn’t full awake yet so any argument he got into, he’d no doubt lose. So for the time being, he let it go.

#i'm posting this at an absolutely terrible time #but oh well #maybe my fellow night owls will appreciate it #idk how many parts this will be for sure #I feel like I don't handle ocs the way most people do #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #my writing #oc: gavin stone #oc: rael #I could say this is a 600 followers celebration #but I was gonna post it anyways lol

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