#a beaming shining example of someone not to be or not to be born as if you want love | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

afy2018 · 1 year

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Revised* One Night Stand

Kara sat alone in the corner of Al’s after a long day at DEO. She had her first drink of the night, a highball that tasted like bitter citrus. In her head, she felt the low buzz numb her as she reminisced about her time as a normal ‘human’ who worked for Cat Grant. Her sister was right, she should have stayed hidden. Her cousin was the perfect example of what happens when aliens live in the light. A soft rap on the table broke her stream of thought. Before her, stood a young passing being who looked upon her with kind and inviting eyes. She was dressed as if she had also just clocked out.

“You okay?” she sincerely asked.

“Yeah, just a long day, you know?”

“I do.” She extended her hand. “I’m Maggie.” Kara accepted her invitation and introduced herself as well. “May I sit with you?”

“I won’t stop you. So, what’s your day job?”

“Detective for NCPD, you?”

“Impressive, I work at Catco.”

“Ah, yeah. I love their tabloids, well ones on page fourteen, the celeb stuff, eh.”

“Yeah, if I had known that being a journalist meant selling your soul for candids, I’d have been an English teacher. I should have realized after I had a whole unit on baiting readers.”

“They actually have a unit on that?”

She nodded and jibed, “Telling you all the secrets, they might revoke my degree.”

Maggie beckoned Fiona to take her order. Once she received her drink, she continued, “You look new, how’d you find this place?”

“You come here that often?”

“I do more than drink.”

Kara scoffed at her witty remark. “My friend, a martian, brought me here. I like it, it’s the only place I can actually get drunk and not feel like an alien. So, what’s your story?”

“When I first dropped down in National City, I got into some trouble. Luckily, one of the bartenders found me and brought me in, so now it’s sort of my safe space, you know, even if I’m not one of them.”

Kara shifted in her seat at the reveal and whispered, “You’re human?”

“Yeah, it’s not a secret. The regulars know me, part of what I do is get these guys the glimmer and reps they need to live out here. This is the perfect discrete place for me to offer that service.”

“How noble,” she beamed.

“I wish it weren’t something I had to hide, but this is just how it is for any alien, E.T. or not.”

“Well, I know I can speak for everyone when I say that it’s nice to see people on our side.”

“I don’t see the difference, like, on a moral level. When it comes down to it, so all the fear-mongering. Well, you know. I’m sure you don’t need some ‘Human Savior’ coming in to tell you how dangerous or unfair life is.”

“It’s nice to meet someone else fighting on our side. You’re like,” she chuckled, “like a knight in shining armor.”

Maggie ruefully grinned, “How are those?”

She swirled the glass around, “Really good, might be a bit strong for a human.”

“How many of those have you had?”

“Just this one so far.”

Maggie nodded, clasping her hands under the table as she leaned in, “Not to be rude, but where are you from?”

“Here, kind of.”

“Explains why I haven’t seen you before. Why kind of?”

“I was born on a dying planet then shot out into space and voile la. Now your turn.”

“I’m second generation, my parents were from Cuba,” she began. “They met after they got to the states, though, and made a life here, not here here. I’m actually a fish out of water if I’m being honest.” When she earned a curious looked, Maggie further explained, “I’m from Georgia.”

“So, why did you pick me from the crowd?”

She glanced around, “What crowd? I didn’t recognize you, so I thought maybe you’d like to know about my services. Docs, jobs, whatever else peaks your fancy?”

Danvers leaned in as she finished off the first drink. “So, what do you get out of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, do you get paid, do you keep info on the aliens?”

Maggie suddenly pulled away, palms flat on the table, “I make no profit, I only want to give back to the people who saved me. I feel like it’s the only way I can repay them.”

“I’m sorry if I-”

“Don’t,” she relaxed a little again, “it’s a touchy subject and not something I get asked about often.”

“Since I don’t need your services, what else do you have that I’d be interested in?”

“If I’m being honest, you’re gorgeous and I thought I’d try to brighten your night.”

“With flirtatious banter?”

“Yeah.”

“That might not be enough?” she tried to clue her in.

Maggie willingly took the bait, “Oh?”

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

“Yeah.”

Maggie paid their tab and brought around her bike for a quick lift to her apartment. On the ride, Kara kept a firm grip around her lay’s waist. They cruised through the oddly lit streets until they got to her flat. Up the stairwell, they chased each other, pausing to make out when one caught up to the other. Halfway up the third floor, Kara pushed her against the wall, her knee pushing its way between Sawyer’s legs until her thigh ground against her. Maggie jumped a little at the contact but ground against her. Kara tore herself away, leaving them both wound up. Sawyer groaned out a laugh and jogged up the last few steps and opened the door to her apartment.

The weekend passed and Sawyer hadn’t seen the alien since. When Monday morning came around, she received an email from her latest partner for a ‘Special Case’. As she entered her office, she found Agent Danvers pacing the room.

“Woah there Danvers, you might leave marks on the carpet. You wanted something?”

“Yes, good morning, by the way,” she said on her way out. “I’m taking you to the office.”

“Okay?”

She followed her from the station to a black car. They sat in silence for a moment while Alex answered a few messages.

“There’s a lot you need to know,” the agent began. “I’m not FBI and neither is Henshaw.” As Maggie reached for her firearm, Alex quickly unlatched and removed it from her reach. She quickly proceeded, “Don’t worry, still government, just not the FBI. We’re from DEO where we handle alien cases and our site works with Supergirl.”

“You mean the one who scares half of the public and demeans my peers?”

“She’s willing to help, she’s not like other aliens.”

“Yeah, I know. She risks the lives- well she just causes too much damage to the city.”

“I hope those are all of your grievances because you’re meeting her.”

“Great,” Maggie huffed. “Can I have my piece back?”

“Yes.”

They pulled into a subterranean structure. Badges were flashed and Alex gave Maggie a fob.

“That was quick.’

“The paperwork you signed with the city gave you access, we just blocked it until we needed your help. Since you proved more than capable of handling the E.T. cases in the field, I thought you’d be interested in what we do here.”

They entered the high-tech bunker fitted with massive LED screens showing trackers and rows upon rows of agents pouring over information at their desks placed perfectly so their supperiors could watch their work from a vantage point.

“This is very interesting.”

She watched on as aliens were paraded from elevator to elevator as they were interrogated and inevitably locked up. Across the room, was a row of monitors and an agent in casual clothes standing next to a caped crusader. Maggie couldn’t help but groan as she looked at the back of the woman’s head.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting Supergirl,” she said in an exasperated tone.

“Usually people sound happier when they say that.”

Maggie merely grimaced as they approached the group. Alex cleared her throat to introduce her, “Everyone, this is Detective Margaret Sawyer of the NCPD.” When they turned around, Maggie immediately locked eyes with Kara, she tried her best to stay composed and politely shook her hand while they went down the line. “Supergirl, as you know,” Alex’s pager went off, so she finished up, “Winn Schott and Hank Henshaw. Sorry, I have to go.”

“Ah, so you’re Sawyer,” Kara connected. “You’re not nearly as harsh as my sister makes you out to be.”

Maggie scoffed, “So, not too many good things?” Kara stayed silent on the response. “So, what is my job here, why suddenly show me all of this?”

“Alex should be returning with your pager soon, but we don’t have an open case for you yet,” Henshaw explained. “This is mostly for formalities and giving you access to and contact with the DEO.”

“Sorry Sawyer, here’s your stuff,” Alex huffed as she jogged back with an envelope of items.

“Thanks.” She looked in and retrieved the aforementioned pager, a badge, and a computer fob. “What’s on this?”

“This is how you get access to the computers here,” she looked at her watch, “I should get you back before your captain gets suspicious.”

“He doesn’t know I’m here?”

“No.”

“It was nice to meet you all. We should go before I lose my bonus.”

Alex promptly dropped her off at the department for another few bureaucratic-filled days. A week passed before she received a 212 in the middle of the day. So she collected her belongings and went down to the black car waiting for her. A random agent met her inside.

“You’re a new face,” Maggie commented. After she didn’t receive a response, she continued, “Are you just here to make sure I don’t commandeer the vehicle? … Are you mute?” She was handed a manilla folder. “Ooh, is this my first case?” Inside were details of a foreign entity they found at a construction site. “Thank you.”

“You can head back inside.”

“I’m not going to DEO?”

“No, we’re dropping you off in the parking garage.”

“Cool, not suspicious at all,” she huffed on her way back inside.

As the day closed out, Maggie drove to Al’s. She spotted Kara in the same booth, so she joined her.

“How’d you know I’d be here?” Kara asked.

“Lucky guess. Also, I got a page in the middle of the day, so figured you were busy.”

“Life of the heroes.”

“We signed up for it. So, big reveal, what else don’t I know?”

“Alex is my sister. Other than that, you’ll just have to wait and see,” she teased.

“So much juicy info.”

“Not that I don’t like your company, but don’t you think you should be selling your services?”

“Well, I wanted to spend some time with you and have a drink, but I see you’re ahead of me.”

“Only by one, you got time to catch up.”

“You look like something’s bothering you?”

“Do you know how many people tell me to go home on a daily basis?”

She was held aback by her honest remark. “No.”

“Too many, way too many for the work my cousin and I do.” Maggie held her tongue as Kara opened up. “I wish I could believe me, but there is no home for me to go to.”

Sawyer reached across the table, “If I wanted you to ‘go home’ it’d be my place.”

“Really was not smooth at all.”

“Who said I was trying? What if I was just being honest?”

“Then I’d still think that was a schlocky setup, but I have nothing else to do.” Kara left her drink unfinished and led the way out of the bar. “Have you ever wanted to fly?”

“I’d be happy to try it out?”

Kara briskly pulled her in, hands gently placed at the back of her neck. She placed a few sweet pecks on her lips and then her forehead. “Okay, just remember to breathe, I’ll try to stay low.”

She swiftly lifted Maggie and ascended over the streets, weaving between skyscrapers until they landed on Kara’s balcony. The moment the doors were opened, they collided again attacking with fervent kisses and considerably less apprehension than their first night.

The following day when Maggie’s alarm woke her up, she found herself face to face with the Girl of Steel, her soft features wrapped in the early morning hue. Her hair fell in a curly mess but she looked calm, like Sleeping Beauty. She slipped out of the warm comfort of her bed and started collecting her clothes. When she turned back to check on her hostess, she found a set of tired eyes staring at her.

“Leaving so soon?” Kara inquired.

“Yeah, I need to get to work, but I might need some different clothes. No need for ‘Stride of Pride’ questions,” she joked.

“Okay, you want a lift?”

“No thank you, I don’t want to start any rumors.”

When Danvers stood up out of bed, Maggie could have sworn she had forgotten how to breathe. There in the gleaming light of her cheap curtains was the valiant protector of the city. She almost couldn’t believe that one day she’d be shit-talking her and the next week, she’d be waking up next to her.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go while I can still will myself.”

Kara swift-stepped to her in a flash and placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “I hate to see you go.”

“You can always page me.”

“No phone number yet?”

Maggie looked her up and down, “Third time’s a charm?”

“Okay, I’ll see you around, Sawyer.”

“Hopefully soon,” she called on her way out of the apartment.

Kara watched her leave, soon aware of her current state of undress in the doorway, so she hid in her apartment again as she got ready for work. After a brisk shower and meal, she took the subway on her way to Catco, quickly ascending the stairs with Grant’s breakfast. Finally, at her desk, Kara spotted Winn slowly making his way over.

“Early as usual, but something looks different about you?” he hinted.

“More sleep, no night cases.”

“Hm, really? That can’t be it.”

“Sleep does wonders for a Kryptonian,” she brushed away as she logged in.

“Do I have to ask Alex?”

“I wouldn’t if I were you. Remember when she threatened to break your fingers.”

“That was when she was trying to interrogate me,” he whispered.

“Trying, I mean, she succeeded pretty well. Besides, Danvers women keep secrets well.”

When the elevator next opened, Kara immediately recognized her boss’s distinct gait. She quickly grabbed the coffee and pastry and waited to greet her in her office. She followed her quickly and placed the meager meal before her.

Without making eye contact, her boss stated, “Well someone’s extra chipper today.”

“Finally got some sleep.”

“That can’t be it.” Cat put on her glasses as she assessed her assistant. “You look like you had a good night. It’s the glow.,” she explained. “What’s their name?”

“It was just a one-night stand.”

“No name?”

“Not yet.”

“Yet, sounds like it was more than a one-nighter.” She created a stack of folders and pushed them to her assistant. “Can you take these to Olsen, and tell him to save them for another month until he can get more information? At this point, they’re only images, no context.”

“Of course, ma’am. Anything else I should know before I give these to him?”

“When you get back, I need you to update my calendar for January and set up a meeting with Dani and Erin. I have all of the dates attached to an email I sent last night.”

“Okay, thank you, ma’am.”

She was able to work her nine-to-five without interruption, but her time off soon ended when her pager beeped at her with a 504, so she responded with 214 and suited up. She jetted to DEO and quickly descended to the main floor. Swiftly stepping, she found her way through the busy agents until she got to her sister. Winn was typing away while Maggie organized her file.

“You need to look him up,” Alex commanded Schott.

“I told you, no name, face, or prints, no info. It’s like looking up a ghost.”

“Winn, come on, work your magic.”

“Okay,” he began in annoyance, “it’s deduction and second, I can’t.”

“He looks like this.”

“Okay, that’s a start, but does he have a name? Is that his actual face?”

“Guys, stop. Alex, go get someone to trick him into telling you something. Winn, go through facial recognition in the DEO and CIA databases,” Kara interrupted. Winn took the laptop and carried it to the floor while Alex paged someone on her way to the holding cell. She slid beside the detective and looked down at the file. “How are you, Sawyer?”

Maggie reached back for her hand. “I was hoping for a quiet night but I’m glad I get to see you.”

She let out a quick scoff and brushed her thumb across the back of her hand. “So, what’s all of this about?”

“A lead has a list of gang members but he isn’t talking.”

“Why was I paged, then?”

“If they get the list, they’ll need you to retrieve the people.”

“Okay, but why am I here right now?”

“He keeps mentioning you, so we weren’t sure if you knew him.”

“I guess I should go check in with Alex then.”

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing?”

“Um, I’m trying to see if he’s shown up on any cameras, but no luck. There’s one that has the front door of a possible money laundering scheme. Alex had me look into it and it’s this whole IRS loophole thing, but the main point is that I don’t know how he’s connected.”

Alex approached her sister, “Hey, he’s asking for you.”

“Good luck, Mags.” As they proceeded through the building, Kara asked, “What do we know about him?”

“He doesn’t talk much, but he’s not from Earth.”

Alex closed the door behind them as they interrogated the young alien. He studied them both from his position cuffed to a table. After a minute, he scoffed and leaned back in his chair.

“She is happy, no?” he asked in a thick accent.

“No, because I have to be here looking at your smug ass face,” Kara snapped.

“Non, non. Vous vous sentez bonheur. C’est quelque chose… quelq’un différent,” he finished with a low hiss. “Il y a une nouvelle personne, qui?”

“I don’t speak French.”

“Ils sont spécial, yes? Who is it, her?” he directed at Alex. “That boy at the computers? No, c’est le flic. The girl who is a cop.” Kara held herself still during his soliloquy. “Lequel, hmm… ah, la personne dernière. Votre cœur, c’est plus rapide, vous avez peur. Vous devez l’avoir.”

Alex briskly pulled her sister out of the room. “Kara,” she tried. “Kara,” she tried again a little more urgently. “Snap out of it. You need to get him out of your head.”

“Sorry, what is he?”

“White martian, I should have told you. Just wait here,” she apologized on her way back in.

Kara waited for her to return, surprised when only five minutes passed and she emerged triumphant.

“Let’s update the others.”

“Okay. Hey, I’m-”

“Don’t, you’re fine, just a little shook up. What’s going on? You can tell me.”

“...I love her,” she began.

“Who, Sawyer? Does she know?”

“I don’t know. I mean, we’ve been together, but we aren’t together.”

“Oh, okay, well that’s great. Sorry, I’m trying not to process you getting laid in general, but I am happy for you. Anyway, we need a plan, so down the hallway we go.”

“Hey, wait. Thanks, Alex,” Kara said as she pulled her in for a tight embrace. “So, what’d he tell you? Why’d he wait until he saw me.”

Alex stopped in her steps, “I think he wanted to know what you loved most.”

“She’s not who I love the most.”

“Be real, Kara.”

“She’s new, so she’s the freshest in my mind.”

“Well, we’ll keep an eye on Detective Sawyer, but until then, we got some good names.” Alex pulled the interrogation footage while Kara called everyone to the bridge. “Hopefully we can figure out how they’re bringing E.T.s here so discreetly.”

“You don’t really think he can communicate with anyone about Mags, right?”

“Not for another twenty-three hours. What do we tell her?”

“I’m going to distract the boys with the update, you take a moment to talk to her.”

“Okay, give me strength.”

“Sending you good vibes,” she stated as they approached the group.

“Hey, Sawyer, can I speak with you?” Kara discreetly requested.

Maggie backed away from Henshaw and Winn but was soon led to an area with less traffic. “What’s up?”

“The guy in there, he knows um… that I care about you and that’s dangerous for both of us. I freakin’ I knew I should have kept my distance from you.”

“Woah, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t want you to live like Lois. She gets kidnapped so often that no matter what kind of precautions we take, bad stuff happens because people know that Superman cares about her. I don’t want that for you.”

“Can you just rewind a little? How does he know and why does that matter? He’s just going to be sent back to Mars.”

“We don’t know how he got here nor his connections, so we just need to be vigilant about our surroundings, especially with unfamiliar aliens.”

“I can’t exactly do that Kara. I’m the only one helping at Al’s,” she finished in a whisper. “Thank you for caring, you know, thanks for the tips, but can we just get back to the case?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m sorry, I- I’m sorry for putting you in danger.”

“That’s a little- it’s okay,” she politely dismissed as they rejoined the group.

Alex immediately began, “Here’s the list. Five of them already have open cases. We’ll go through and see how many are legal.”

Maggie looked over the list as well, “What about the others? Who are they?”

“Not sure, there isn’t a lot of information, mostly documents dating back a few years.”

Kara glanced over at the detective.

“What?” Alex read them. “Do you know these people?”

“No,” Maggie assured her. “I don’t recognize them.

“Supergirl?”

“No, I haven’t seen them before. I-I don’t remember them at the last bust.”

“Okay, we’ll assign agents to watch them before we do the tests, be sure they’re the correct targets.”

“What about the Martian?”

“We’re putting together the paperwork to deport him.”

“Am I good to leave?” Maggie asked as she looked at her watch. “I have a ton of paperwork at my real job.”

“Yes, in fact, you can all leave, we’ll handle it from here and give you updates.”

“Oh hey, next time you send over a suit, can you make it less obvious, people at work think I’m a fed.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Hank reassured her.

The three unofficial agents filed into the elevator in awkward silence. Kara stood in front as she game-planned how to prepare for Maggie’s imminent danger. The elevator doors opened to two parked cars. Silently, the two humans went to their cars while Supergirl watched on. She blasted through the garage to Catco to get get back to work. Once she landed on the roof, she pulled out her pager until Winn came up to let her in.

To Maggie, she typed in the codes for, “Your place this evening?” A minute passed before Maggie accepted her invitation.

As night fell, Kara patrolled from the sky until she found Sawyer’s apartment. From what she recalled her place was on the third floor so looked for her minimally decorated fire escape. She carefully landed on the shaky structure and knocked on her window. She watched Maggie jump and warily approach the window with a knife. After a pleasant wave, she was let in.

“You don’t have to scare the crap out of me. Besides, don’t you think it’s a little dangerous coming here suited up?”

“And instead people see some random woman in the sky? At a certain point, they ignore the red cape. Can I add my number to your phone?”

“Oh, yeah,” she agreed, handing over her device.

As Kara input her contact information, she stated a few ground rules. “When you text or call me, only use my Earth name. Supergirl stuff is for the pagers, they’re more reliable anyway, and tracked,” she finished as she handed back the phone. “How was your day?”

“Not bad, I do love working at DEO despite not really being all that useful.”

“You’ve always worked for DEO, now you just know they exist.” At Maggie’s confused reaction, Kara explained, “You’re a subdivision that’s really the only reason why Alex didn’t kick you off the case.”

“Fun fact, thanks.” she draped her arms over her guest’s shoulders. “Can we switch topics?”

“Oh, yeah, anything in mind?”

“Well, I have one thing, but there isn’t a lot of talking involved. Once you get this tight suit off, of course.”

Kara pulled her arms away and closed the blinds as she disrobed.

Danvers sat up out of her partner’s warm embrace. She could spot the green rays of the morning light creep through the uncovered cracks between the blinds and window. Maggie was still asleep shortly before her alarm was supposed to go off. Too awake to pretend to sleep, Kara went through her host’s cabinet to make coffee. As the machine went through its loud process, Maggie appeared in the doorway, a pleasant smile across her face.

“How’d you sleep?” she asked.

“Well, yourself?”

“Great, as usual.” She placed a brief peck on her cheek and began to make her meager breakfast.

“You have one of the best views of the city, even better than my place,” Kara complimented.

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe my rate.”

She slid over a cup of coffee. “Do you have any plans tonight?”

“Nothing unless Alex calls.”

“Great, drinks after work?”

“Sounds perfect.”

“I should probably head out, right?”

“You should, but I’ll see you tonight. You can head out through the fire escape when you’re ready.”

“When I’m ready?” she teased as she placed her hands on Maggie’s waist.

Sawyer however pushed her away, “Morning breathe, Kara.”

“I don’t care.”

She playfully pushed her away by the shoulder and poured the remaining coffee into her thermos. “Have a good day.”

Kara kissed her fingers and pressed them against Sawyer’s temple. “See you around.” She ducked through the window and dramatically fell before swooping off into the low-lit sky.

She watched on as she disappeared behind a building and finished getting ready. As per usual, there wasn’t much she could do with DEO cases until she got an update from Danvers, and no new cases on her desk, so Maggie was left pouring over old files. She even got to the point where she placed her pager in eyesight so she’d be sure to see it. She sat at her desk, watching officers and detectives walk around in a frenzy as they went through their procedures. She envied how busy they were to the point she had a tab open for a standing desk.

Suddenly, everything went silent as if the entire department held its breath. Maggie looked around, everyone looked normal, just preoccupied. A few younger officers were gathered around a detective’s computer while the more senior workers listened in on their radios. Sawyer stood and watched as a task board was switched around by their head negotiator. Everything moved slowly as she led the pack that would soon descend upon the new update.

“We have a situation currently developing at the National City Bank. Big surprise,” their chief began. “We have enough reinforcements on site, but there have been no casualties so far.”

“What do you need us to do?” an officer asked.

“Nothing, I’ll let you know if we need extra hands, but we have twelve officers and a negotiator down there. That’s all.”

Maggie watched alongside her peers as the board was finished up. She began to sweat as tension rose in the room. She hated situations like this, they nearly always ended up messy whether or not the perpetrator brought down others with them. Luckily the main suspects had been identified and a profile was already being put together about them, two culprits named Ward Kennedy and Garrett Haymitch. Two hours elapsed since the crime was reported and not much progress had been made.

Maggie sat at the desk of one of her subordinates as they listened in on the radio.

“Come on Kennedy,” the negotiator could be heard saying, “How long can you keep this up?”

“As long as the bathrooms work.” A few officers snickered at his retort much to their superior's chagrin.

“What’s that?” a sniper asked over the radio.

“Is that- of course. Snipers, watch exits closely. All units on the ground back away from the scene.”

“If it’s Supergirl,” a young cadet in the office stated. “I win the pot.”

Maggie shot her a side eye and focused back on the updates. Again, to her dismay, the cadet was proven correct as the radios went crazy with various officers voicing their disdain for the extraterrestrial heroine.

“For fuck’s sake,” Maggie seethed. She went off to her office and pulled out her pager to contact Alex yet ultimately decided against it. Instead, she felt like it would be best to voice her grievances with the guilty party in person.

Like the other officers, Maggie despised it when Kara broke in without first consulting the proper emergency services. It was fine for disasters but help on simple arrests was unnecessary. If the damage was caused by her, the government would have to help pay for reconstruction, not to mention if anyone got injured in the process.

The remainder of her day was filled with mixed annoyance and excitement at Supergirl’s interception. The officers on site described the carnage, yet complimented her on leaving the criminals free of injury. She did, however, have a pretty heated argument with the negotiator, ending with a bit of undermining on her part. Maggie hid in her office, unwilling to hear all of the shit-talk about someone she cared for deeply.

Once she clocked out, Sawyer slipped through the street on her bike to Al’s and patiently waited to be joined. She bought their regular drinks as she went over how to address the issue. Without a verbal greeting, Kara slid up with a quick kiss and took the spot across from her.

“What’s wrong, you’re making a face.”

“Kara, you need to stop worming your way into police business. You’re perfect for disasters but when it comes to hostage situations, arrests, and robberies, you have to let us do our job unless we contact you.”

“Is this about the bank?”

“Yes! Sorry, yes. Now that that happened, the department has to pay thousands in damages just for the buildings. Luckily the criminals are fine or they could have used the ‘Supergirl Defense’.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s when you use harsh tactics against humans, it’s like police brutality except for those cases usually win. So, please, when it comes to this kind of stuff, just confirm with us before you go all gung ho.”

“It took you guys forever to fix the situation. Obviously, you need help if you can’t close a deal within two hours. Isn’t it just a waste of resources? Can you imagine all of the crime you could have missed if you were there for any longer?”

“Then we would have handled it or called you, but you need to wait. Look, there’s a time for a scalpel and time for a hammer. Just let us do our job and we’ll let you do yours,” Maggie bitterly concluded.

Kara let out an annoyed grunt, “Fine, next time I’ll ask.”

She left her drink unfinished and stormed out of the bar. In the dark alley, Kara haphazardly bolted into the air, but before she could get any further, she came plummeting down trapped in a disorienting net. She cursed under her breath soon aware of how much pain she was in. Kara pathetically pulled at the green glowing net until it partially fell off of her. She crumpled to the ground at a firm push between her scapula. Kara threw off her glasses as the footsteps of her assailant echoed in the narrow pathway. He stood before her, his clean shaved head reflecting the light from Al’s bar, and held out an odd firearm which sent off near silent shot to her torso.

#supergirl #supercop #Kara danvers #Maggie Sawyer #Kara x Maggie #Fanfic #sfw #sfw fanfic #lesbian bisexual wlw femslash

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feralphoenix · 3 years

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SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS: The Mechanics of the Infection

welcome back to feral’s essay tag where the hot takes don’t stop from keep being hot!

this particular meta has a Lot of citations from canon, and my plan is to have them as actual footnotes in the dreamwidth mirror when that goes up (as i always crosspost my meta there in case my layout text is too small for any folks accessing these from computer and not mobile).

CONTENT WARNING FOR TONIGHT’S PROGRAM: This essay contains discussion of body horror, cancer, and many of the darker aspects of Hallownest’s society.

ALSO, AS USUAL: I read Hollow Knight as anti-colonialist fiction and all of my meta approaches the text from that angle. This essay is strongly critical of the Pale King and Hallownest, and affords sympathy to pre-Hallownest societies & native characters, including Radiance. If you come from a Christian cultural background (regardless of whether you currently practice the religion or not), some of the concepts I am going to discuss may be challenging for you. Please be responsible in your choice whether to engage with this content, and also, be respectful here or wherever else you’re discussing this essay. Thanks.

SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS: The Mechanics of the Infection

If you’ve ever looked through my Hollow Knight tags, you have probably seen me joke about the Infection like a lot, usually along the lines of Radiance casting Level 9 Inflict Tang on Hallownest, or “(radi voice) the End of EVA will continue until you Let My People Go” or some such. In addition to being some of the most beautiful body horror I’ve yet seen in fiction, its appearance also makes it a veritable meme factory.

It is also something that inspires a lot of very wild theorizing amongst fans, because canon tells us WHY the Infection exists but doesn’t ever directly explain WHAT it is. To name just a few of the guesses I’ve seen, people have posited that it could be some sort of pupa juice, or maybe some type of parasitic fungus.

I have my own guess, though, and it’s based on hints we can find in-game. I would like to share it with the class today, so let’s take a quick look through the sauce, starting with what we already know!

WHY

We learn why the Infection happened from Seer and Moss Prophet, and this is also summed up more directly in Team Cherry’s dev notes attached to Seer.

The Pale King wanted to be the only god of light in the crater,* so he tried to kill Radiance by thralling her children - attracting the moths with his light and making them forget about her,** assimilating them into Hallownest. Radiance survived because some moths still remembered and tried to preserve what they could of their original culture,*** and eventually she attempted to reassert her existence and communicate with the bugs of the crater by speaking to them through their dreams. However, the Pale King realized what was happening and ordered his worshippers to shut her out.****

Radiance did not give up, and continued to broadcast her message through dreams. This unstoppable force VS immovable object conflict could not last forever - something eventually had to give, and what gave was the mortals.***** The Infection was an accident that Radiance did not initially intend, but presumably chose to weaponize after the fact as a way to attempt to pressure TPK into releasing the moths and leaving her alone (or, barring that, a way to thoroughly destroy his kingdom at the very least).

SOURCES:

* “No blazing kin. Only one light shall shine against the dark.” - Lore tablet hidden beside the Pale King’s throne in the White Palace.

** “None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters.” - Seer’s 1200 Essence dialogue.

*** “But the memories of that ancient light still lingered, hush whispers of faith... Until all of Hallownest began to dream of that forgotten light.” - Seer’s 2400 Essence dialogue.

**** “The King and the bugs of hallownest resisted this memory/power and it started to manifest as the infection.” - from Team Cherry’s dev notes attached to Seer.

***** “Light is life, beaming, pure, brilliant. To stifle that light is to suppress nature. Nature suppressed distorts, plagues us.” - Moss Prophet's dialogue.

HOW

Now that we’ve recapped why the Infection exists, let’s examine the process of how the Infection works. We see some examples of this with various characters in-game, and the Hunter also shares his observations of the Infection’s mechanics in his commentary on the Infected Crossroads entries.

Since we’ll be bringing up the Hunter's Journal here, I want to first examine three entries to establish its dual authorship and how trustworthy it is: The Shade’s entry, the Lightseed’s, and Radiance’s.

We know that the bottom section of the Hunter’s Journal is the Hunter’s personal notes on each creature because the game itself tells us so. So who writes the notes on top that give a brief explanation of what each creature is? It’s a common fan theory that Ghost writes these, which I believe is indeed the case.

First let’s look at the Shade, which is automatically unlocked when we receive the Hunter's Journal in-game regardless of whether we have died and fought the Shade or not. Mechanically this is important because if the Shade weren’t unlocked by default it would be impossible to attain the Hunter achievements without dying at least once - this would REALLY suck for anybody who likes to suffer enough to try to complete the journal in Steel Soul mode.

The Shade’s entry reads:

Echo of a previous life. Defeat it to retake its power and become whole.

Each of us leaves an imprint of something when we die. A stain on the world. I don’t know how much longer this kingdom can bear the weight of so many past lives...

Notice that the top text knows exactly what the Shade is and how it works. In story terms, this would imply that Ghost has died and come back enough pre-game to understand the mechanics of how their revivals work.

The Lightseed’s entry reads:

A single-celled organism, completely infected. Scurries about simple-mindedly.

Strange air has been seeping down from above for years. Some of the air became liquid, and some of that liquid became flesh, and some of that flesh came to life. I don’t know what to make of it.

In this entry, the top text assumes that Lightseeds are a Lifeseed-like creature that has been infected, and the Hunter’s notes reveal that this is incorrect and the Lightseeds were actually born from the Infection itself. From this we learn that the top text isn’t omniscient and can be mistaken: It’s written from a limited perspective.

And here’s Radi’s entry:

The light,* forgotten.

The plague, the infection, the madness that haunts the corpses of Hallownest... the light that screams out from the eyes of this dead Kingdom. What is the source? I suppose mere mortals like myself will never understand.

Here, the top text has information that the Hunter doesn’t, and which only a handful of bugs are privy to anymore.

From these three examples, I believe it is safe to say that Ghost is in fact the author of the journal entries’ top segments.

It’s important to remember that the observations these characters make can be not wholly correct, and I’ll bring that up when I believe it to be relevant, but for now let’s build a picture of how a case of the Infection generally progresses by looking at the Hunter’s commentary on Infected Crossroads enemies, and at a handful of characters whose Infection we directly observe: Bretta, Sly, Myla, and Moss Prophet.

The Hunter describes the broad arc of Infection progression in the Violent Husk's entry: “First [the bugs of Hallownest] fell into deep slumber, then they awoke with broken minds, and then their bodies started to deform...”

The two NPCs who we can save from becoming Infected, Bretta and Sly, are initially found emitting orange fog and mumbling to themselves. In Bretta’s case, when listened to, she initially talks about being left behind and forgotten** as she assumes that all people will treat her this way even though she craves affection and attention; Dream Nailed either before or after being listened to, she mentions a “shining figure”.***

Meanwhile, Sly speaks about his pupil Oro and someone named Esmy, and when his symptoms subside he identifies that he was led to the Crossroads village ruins by a dream.****

Listening to Bretta and Sly completely brings them back to reality, after which they leave the underground area entirely to return to Dirtmouth. However, when the player encounters Myla after defeating Soul Master and obtaining Descending Dive, listening to her does not cause any change in her condition despite that she is not yet hostile.

During these encounters, Bretta is surrounded by orange fog, Sly is surrounded by orange fog and his eyes have also begun to turn orange, and Myla's eyes are glowing but there is no fog around her. So, we can deduce that for as long as the orange fog is present, a bug may still be awoken and cured (Bretta and Sly both show no signs of relapse over the course of the game), but once the fog disappears the bug can no longer be saved by external means.

The "deformation" that the Hunter mentions in the Violent Husk entry refers to the large blobs of Infection that develop on the bodies of creatures that have been infected for a long period of time. We observe these upon the Infected Crossroads enemies, as well as on Hollow and the Moss Prophet. We also see that these Infection tumors can eventually kill bugs once they grow too large and impede bodily functions, just like real cancer: The Moss Prophet and Mossy Vagabonds are all discovered in this state after the Crossroads become infected, as are the Husk Guards in the Crossroads.

So, the progression we can see here is that bugs become infected through their dreams, and while they can initially be woken, if left alone they will fall into too deep a sleep to wake up. Some time after this they will start to move around again but will be hostile to any creatures that are not infected. And, if left in this state for a very long period of time, they will develop tumorous growths which are potentially fatal.

Potentially fatal. This is an interesting contradiction to a basic assumption that most players - and even Ghost and the Hunter - seem to hold about the Infection: That is, that the Infection functions like a pop-culture zombie plague, and infected creatures are all undead (reanimated dead things that can't be killed); thus that the enemies that respawn after resting or going offscreen are the same ones that Ghost just murdered, and have simply been reanimated by the Infection once again.

But infected creatures can die of the Infection. What’s more, bosses and unique instances of generic enemies (such as Myla and the Moss Knight at the pier of Unn’s lake) do not respawn once killed. And it’s definitely not that Ghost killed them that counts: Traitor Lord dies whether Ghost fights him solo or whether Cloth is brought along, in which case she always gets the final blow. This creates the argument that the respawning generics are NOT in fact the same individuals reanimated over and over, but different individuals of the same enemy class, and that their different respawn rates speak to how plentiful those creatures are - small animals respawning faster because a new one will arrive in the recently killed one’s territory sooner, for instance.

Ghost and the Hunter both seem to assume that infected enemies are all undead - many creatures are identified as “husks” or “the remains of [whatever specific bug]” in the Hunter's Journal. But we’ve already established that sometimes Ghost and the Hunter are wrong.

So, if infected creatures aren’t undead, then what are they?

SOURCES:

* I find it a very interesting tidbit of characterization for Ghost that they refer to Radiance as the Light, as native bugs do, rather than calling her the Old Light, as Hallownest bugs did. This has some fascinating implications for where Ghost feels their allegiances to be, but that's neither here nor there right now lol.

** “Ohhh... please... don’t leave me behind! You... forgot about me...? I knew you would... everyone always forgets about me...” - Bretta’s dialogue, Fungal Wastes encounter

*** “...Shining figure...So bright...” - Bretta’s Dream Nail dialogue, Fungal Wastes encounter

**** “...ugghh, Oro you oaf.... You wield your nail... like a club... ...Esmy... how much deeper do we have to go... Oh! What?! Who are you?! ...I see. This old village. What a strange dream, to have led me down here! If you hadn’t found me, I don’t think I would’ve ever woken.” - Sly’s dialogue, Crossroads village encounter

WHAT

In a move very on-brand for Hollow Knight, there’s actually a line from Seer that gives the whole game away - and I mean this incredibly literally, she declares her loyalty to Radiance and says Fuck Hallownest and also hints at what she hopes for from Ghost all in two breaths!! - except that most players are never going to see this line because Seer only says this if you screw up platforming in the Forgotten Dream and yeet yourself off a platform before picking up the Dream Nail.

I do not doubt that I could wring a whole essay out of this one line by itself (and Seer deserves an essay from me so maybe I will), but today the part we’re concerned with is the third line of this dialogue, i.e. how she describes the Dream Nail to Ghost: “The power to wake this world from its slumber[.]”

Its slumber.

The Infection doesn’t only spread through dreams. It is a dream.

To put it in a more meta/video game mechanics sort of way, the Infection is a status ailment. Sleep exists as a common status ailment in RPGs, strategy games, and even some adventure games and platformers. Usually the status ailment of sleep is a mild nuisance that wears off after time, when a character is struck, or if the requisite curative is used; in comparison the Infection is Sleep But Bass Boosted. Appropriate, for a glorified status ailment that’s inflicted by the literal actual god of dreams.

The Infection can only be cured in the very early stages. Once an infected creature has fallen into a coma, there’s no longer any hope of a third party breaking the curse... and also, infected creatures sleepwalk. Violently.

This may also provide an explanation for why mummified bugs in the catacombs have been infected, too: If they were freshly dead and their lingering spirit was still attached enough to their corpses, and that lingering spirit retained enough of a mind to dream...

Aside from those mummified bugs, though, I believe it likely that most if not all of the infected enemies in-game are very, very much alive.

Beyond all the dialogue and lore crumbs pointing to the Infection simply being a cursed sleep, this explanation makes the most sense when thinking about Radiance as a character. She is the literal embodiment of dreams as well as the sun, so inflicting eternal slumber with bonus malignant sleepwalking is a natural extension of her power and a way to use it offensively without being directly violent.

(I've written about this at length elsewhere, but signs point to Radiance having been a pacifist prior to the Pale King’s invasion. Short version: The Moth Tribe were pacifists and Radiance was the center of their culture so it would be odd if she were an exception; she is incapable of inflicting any physical harm whatsoever in a game where lack of contact damage from an active enemy indicates helplessness and such enemies always flee from Ghost unless they have a tool they can use to fight with; her behavior in her boss battles indicates a lack of combat experience, and her nail-generating spells seem to be based on Hollow’s abilities. Real-life adult moths cannot fight - they defend themselves with flight, camouflage, mimicry, and I’m Poisonous So Fuck Off coloring.)

Now, I don’t want to downplay the harm the Infection causes - it doesn’t have to turn bugs into literal undead zombies to be devastating. What we can glean of Hallownest’s ruins suggests that as a state it was heavily dependent on labor to run its industry, so incapacitating the laborers would have turned the whole country on its head, especially because those laborers cannot be woken. The Infection also created an intense atmosphere of terror throughout Hallownest as bugs tried to discover ways to cure it or at least protect themselves. And as the Hunter observes,* because of how the Infection is caused, the harder you try to block Radiance out, the worse the Infection will get.

(A sidebar: Interestingly, the Infection's progress seems to be very slow when a creature willingly accepts it; Moss Prophet has Infection tumors when met but doesn’t die of them until the Crossroads is infected, though many Crossroads bugs are found dead of tumors immediately. Traitor Lord and his followers opted in to the Infection long ago, but Traitor Lord is still at the “orange fog” stage and could theoretically be cured, if he wanted to be. Both Traitor Lord and Moss Prophet are still completely lucid, too.)

Radiance may not have committed any direct violence against Hallownest, but the Infection does incite violence: infected creatures become hostile to and will attack the uninfected. And as we’ve discussed, the Infection itself can become fatal once it’s progressed far enough for tumorous growths to form.

A god smiting the shit out of her people’s oppressors by nonviolently but thoroughly disrupting their kingdom, Especially if that kingdom is a genocidal colonialist slave state,** as a Let My People Go And Leave Me Alone :) ultimatum is not unreasonable. (And Moss Prophet tells us point-blank that literally just listening to Radiance in the first place would have prevented the Infection before it began!) But despite that Hallownest as an institution is unambiguously awful, Hallownest bugs victimized by their own state (such as the maggot slaves and other menial workers) probably saw much less benefit from Hallownest’s genocides than the rich and nobility, and likely deserved the smiting way less than said rich and nobility.

Meanwhile Hallownest’s neighbors - all native nations who are just as much victims of TPK’s bullshit as the Moth Tribe - did not deserve to get caught up in the smiting at all.

Lateral harm in Hollow Knight is another topic that deserves its own essay - and more than that, lots of in-depth conversation! - but, again, that’s not the topic we want to focus on today. I do want to make it clear, though, that infected creatures being alive and theoretically wakeable if the curse should end doesn’t suddenly mean the Infection was actually no big deal. If you want your jimmies rustled, try Dream Nailing enemies that pull from the generic Dream Nail dialogue pool: They are on some level aware that they’re dreaming and can’t wake.***

Clues that the Infection is literally a dream are littered all over the game, from Elderbug’s initial dialogue**** to the name of ending 3, Dream No More - not only named that because that’s the ending where Ghost sacrifices Radiance’s life as well as their own to end Hollow’s suffering rather than only sacrificing their freedom.

Some of what Bardoon and Moss Prophet have to say about the Infection is suggestive of the nature of this dream, though. Moss Prophet appeals to their audience to find unity through the Infection,***** and Bardoon also remarks on this, though he cautions that this comes at the cost of being reduced to instinct.****** Dreaming does tend to come hand in hand with lack of inhibition and suggestibility, but I’m more interested in what Moss Prophet and Bardoon mean by unity, since infected creatures’ thoughts are different depending on what they are and what they were already doing while awake.

There's less specific hard evidence for this aside from how we can observe that Infection blobs are connected to Radiance, transmitting her heartbeat and birthing the Lightseeds, her unintended creations. But given that those blobs do originate from Infection fluid according to the Hunter... Radiance is not just the embodiment of dreams but the heart of THE Dream. So could the Infection be a forcible pseudo-immersion into that capital-D Dream, the Dream Realm itself?

Whether my hunch here is right or not, I can’t in good faith end this essay without bringing all y’all’s attention to absolutely my favorite bit of The Infection Is A Dream foreshadowing: The way multiple parties mention the fact that the Infection smells and tastes sweet.*******

You know... it’s sweet... it’s a sweet dream... get it.........

And now that you can no longer unsee that brilliantly awful pun, I think I'll see myself out!

SOURCES:

* “The infection that swept through Hallownest so long ago... they say that the harder you struggled against it, the more it consumed you.” - Hunter’s commentary, Slobbering Husk Hunter’s Journal entry.

** I’m referring, of course, to the maggots. See: “Weakest members of the kingdom of Hallownest. Generally looked down upon and forced to do menial labour.” (Ghost’s commentary) and “If they try to bargain for their life, just ignore them. They have nothing to offer.” (Hunter’s commentary) from the Maggot Hunter's Journal entry as well as False Knight/Failed Champion’s backstory. Remember also that maggots are the larval form of flies like Sly (you’ll see the resemblance if you compare Sly’s features to the maggot siblings’), meaning Hallownest employs child slavery. In more cheerful news Sly’s backstory must be absolutely goddamn wild.

*** “I’m not...Dead..” “Am I...Sleeping?” “I can’t....Wake up...” - Dream Nail dialogue from generic Hallownest bugs (Wandering Husk, Leaping Husk, Horned Husk, Husk Bully, Husk Warrior) and from God Tamer for some reason

**** “Perhaps dreams aren't such great things after all...” - Elderbug’s initial dialogue

***** “Embrace light! Achieve union!” - Moss Prophet’s dialogue

****** “Theirs is a different kind of unity. Rejection of the Wyrm’s attempt at order. I resist the light’s allure. Union it may offer, but also a mind bereft of thought... To instinct alone a bug is reduced...Hrrm...” - Bardoon’s dialogue (Listen four times, not counting other dialogue flags)

******* “A thick orange mist fills these walking corpses. It has a sweet, sickly taste to it. I find it foul. After you kill these creatures, I suggest you do not eat them.” - Hunter’s commentary, Husk Bully Hunter’s Journal entry, just for one example.

#hollow knight #hollow knight spoilers #hollow knight meta #long post under cut -#essay

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impala1967dwinchester · 3 years

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Castiel: Stars in the night sky

Pairing: Castiel x Y/n/Reader

Pov: Reader

Warnings:sweet moments, kisses, realization of love

Summary: Castiel takes Y/n to go stargazing for the first time, and she gives a kiss on the cheek. A gesture of thank you she says

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

Taglist:

Castiel and I have always had a great relationship. Something between Castiel and I clicked, like a lock. Being around Castiel I would say has made me more appreciative of the things around me.

Like for example; Castiel would list off all the stars in the night sky, while we were on a hunt. It was also so refreshing being around him, he had this passion in him like I’d never seen before.

That passion had such a great effect on me. especially when I was around him, it was as if a huge magnet was forcing me to be beside Castiel.

I guess I wouldn’t say that I didn’t love being around Castiel, but he had a way of making me feel nervous and timid. Not that he was a bad person... not that he was a bad angel.

What I’m trying to say is that he had a great effect over my emotions and I knew no matter what that he’d end up finding out eventually.

What may he find out?

Castiel may find out that I see him more as special person in my life, then just a friend. I hate putting titles to things but I think in a situation like these things need titles.

I promise that this will make more sense in just a few moments.

I heard a knock on my door. “Can I come in?” I heard Castiel said through the wood door. A sudden wave of shock rolled through my bones, “Um, sure Castiel.” I said pulling the comforter over my very much covered frame.

“I was wondering if you and I could go look at the stars tonight, Y/n?” Castiel asked, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Something that he had picked up from Dean.

I set down my book that I had only started reading earlier this morning. “I don’t see why not.” I said giving him a small smile. His face lite up, those bright baby blue eyes glistening with excitement. A face the reminded me of much I really did enjoy being around Castiel.

The day went on as usual. Dean washing his precious impala “Baby”, Watching whatever Dean watched for fun of course, or eating lots and lots of food. Sam trying to find another hunt, running, or reading through the lore.

I on the other hand really hadn’t left my room since Castiel came in. I had sat there for what seemed like at least twenty minutes. I just stared at the door, thinking of every possible way that this could go wrong.

‘You could say the wrong thing, at the wrong moment. Wear the wrong thing, think you’re getting some sort of sign when in all reality you aren’t’ I was brought out of my thought when I heard another knock at my door. “Come on in.” I spoke

Hoping more than praying that it wasn’t Castiel again. To my surprise it was actually Sam. “So, I might have heard that Castiel and you are going star gazing tonight?” Sam said a little to knowingly.

“Yes, I might be going out with Castiel tonight.” I returned getting out of my bed. I waved Sam in to my room. He shut the door behind him and sat down in my desk chair.

“Well let’s just say that this conversation never happened” Sam said raising his eyebrows. “O-okay.” I said with a confused tone. “So Castiel and I are good buddies you know?’ “Hmm” I said. ‘He might have told me that he like it when you wear... when you wear that blue flower shirt of yours.”

I guess I was giving him a very confused look. The next words to fall from my mouth were “Huh?” “Actually, ignore what I just said, he just wants you to be happy and according to Castiel. You are the happiest when you’re wearing that flower shirt.” Sam said softly clapping his hands.

“Okay I can be happy” I said, smiling a little wider than before. “Well, I’ll let you get to the rest of the day, Y/n.” Sam said sitting up from the desk chair, kissing my temple hastily before walking out of my bedroom.

Once I was alone, I turned into a giddy teen. Jumping up and down squealing at the top of my lungs. I eventually ended up falling on my back onto my bed. I couldn’t express to you what I was feeling even if my life depended on it.

A few hours had passed, and I had taken a very long shower, but not for naughty reasons. I had taken my time with my makeup. Which I don’t say so myself I was getting so much better at doing, picked out my clothes things that made me feel happy and a bad-ass bitch.

Just as I was putting my sweater on I again for the third time this glorious day I heard a knock at my room door. “You can come in.” I said my back was facing the door, but I could smell was sugar cookies, and a hint of lavender. turning around after i had slipped my arms through.

There I saw Castiel standing in my doorway, not wearing his normal trench coat and suit. Which was odd at first, but what he did have on was much better. He was wearing a light blue button up shirt that was under a dark blue sweater.

It was like looking at someone completely different. I’m saying that I wouldn’t mind Castiel wearing more ‘normal’ like clothing more often. “May we?” Castiel said reaching his hand out to take mine.

“Yes, we may.” I said placing my hand in his, shit man his hands are so soft. As we walked out of my room Castiel shut my bed room door. As we walked past the kitchen door, and past the library, Sam gave me a short smile.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dean throw a pair of keys towards Castiel which caught them. ‘Be safe you two.” I heard Dean say. That was odd, not teasing, no asking where we were going, no... no nothing.

“I grabbed a blanket for our gazing at the stars tonight.” Castiel said still holding my hand. At this point I was wondering if he’d forgotten that he was holding my hand.

Castiel walked me over to the impala. I gave him a questionable look, wondering why and how Dean would ever let Castiel drive ‘Baby’. He walked me over to passenger side, opening my door, and then shutting it for me. This entire thing was giving me butterflies in my stomach.

No man that I had ever been around did that for me. I mean yes, the two Winchester boys were great, but again there was something about Castiel. The way he was just such a gentleman.

I was pulled from my thoughts when I heard the driver's side door slam against its frame. The start f the engine and we were out of the garage. Gone and Castiel driving to where ever he wanted.

Castiel quickly realized that we were listening to Dean's music, so a few changes to the radio and we were listening to some classical music. I won’t say that it set a mood for the rest of the night, but I’d like to think that was what he was trying to do.

It was actually a short drive only about ten minutes from the hidden bunker. Castiel parked the impala on a nice clearing of grass. He looked over at me giving a cute smile his dimples showing. Which in turn made me smile. He shut the impala off, and got out. Not before telling me “Wait, Y/n.” So that’s what I did.

I watched Castiel through the rear-view mirror. Open the trunk, pull out two blankets. One look much larger than the other, but that doesn’t matter. I watched as Castiel rounded the Impala and just as he was in front of the car, he throws the bigger blanket out.

Then placed down the other blanket. When Castiel was finished he walked over to my side opening my door. Giving me a hand with getting out. Castiel walked over to the area he had set up. I sat down and then Castiel did.

I had never been this close to Castiel before he radiated so much heat. Castiel started rapidly firing off all the stars in the sky. “This star right here’ he said pointing in some random direction. ‘This star was the one that was out the night you were born Y/n.” He finished; a smile could be seen on his face.

“Really?” I asked surprised that he knew that. “Yes, actually it was the biggest in the sky that night. Imagine Y/n the night that you were born this star right here was a lighthouse. That huge beam of light. It honestly for a few moments blinded us angels in heaven.”

Castiel looked over at me. I could feel my face getting hotter and hotter by the second. “Are you okay, Y/n? You seem to be very warm.” Castiel said. His hand falling to my forehead like he was checking my temperature. “I’m fine Castiel, I just... I didn’t think that you knew all this stuff about me.” I said a little timid, messing with the hem of the sweater.

“I won’t say that I know everything about you Y/n, but I’d like to learn more about you.” Castiel hand grazing over my cheek. “Really Castiel?” I asked slowing building the courage to look him in his baby blue eyes. “Of course, Y/n. You’re the brightest star, and I want to learn more about you every day.”

I couldn’t help but to smile, now choosing to look up at Castiel. Looking down at me Castiel gave me a soft lipped kiss on my other cheek. As Castiel kissed my cheek he whispered in my ear “I think I’m falling.” A chill running down my spine.

Castiel left my cheek, and his hand fall yet again down to my open hand. His fingers grabbing to hold onto my pinky, so his thumb could gently graze over the top of my hand.

I leaned forward, catching his lips, in a gentle needy kiss. Like a dam had finally broke, and it was finally okay to feel every raw emotion. When I was very much in need of air, I slipped away and whispered in his. “It’s okay to fall, because at least we will be falling together.”

“Can I ask you something, Castiel?” I spoke. “Hmm, Of course Y/n.” Castiel responded. “When you did start feeling this way, you know about me?” I said, falling back into my timid and shy self. He gave me that face that told me ‘I’m thinking’ only a few moments passed before I received an answer from Castiel.

“I’d say it was the day that I finally met you. You shined just bright as the star the sky did. You were like a magnet for me. I just wanted to spend the rest of time with you. You are shy now, but when we first met. You, Y/n were a forced to reckoned with.” I smiled, and fell into Castiel arms.

“You are the reason why I love humanity. You make me want to be more human. You make me want to thrive. You show me that not everything is hard to finally have. You showed me long ago that you don’t have to be prefect.” Castiel said.

I started to laugh and cry into Castiel chest. “Are you alright, Y/n? Did I say or do something?” Castiel worried voice coming out. I lifted myself from Castiel very warm chest. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Castiel. You just made me feel nice, extremely good for the first time in a very long time. So, thank you Castiel.” I said, as Castiel wiped my happy tears away.

“Well, like I said Y/n. I want to learn more about, I want to be there to protect you. You and I for the rest of time.” Castiel said winking at me.

Completed: 03/07/2021

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yyxgin · 4 years

Text

YOUR EYES TELL

"A future without you is a world without colour"

jungkook x fem!reader ; coming of age/angst

↪ summary: In your world, everyone is born color-blind. But as you find love, the world starts to get more and more colorful.

words: 7.5 k

warnings: swearing, a panick attack, character death

A/N: inspired by a tiktok about Felix I saw the other day lmao. Hope ya'll like this :~)

Little Jeon Jungkook was just nine when he shocked the entire classroom with a random fact about himself.

Everyone looked at him in awe when he told the teacher that his favorite color is red, even though it's the only color he can see by now.

"What do you mean that your favorite color is red, Kookie? Can you see red?" asked the teacher with a confused look on her face, but voice still careful enough not to hurt the poor boy.

"Of course! You have a red blouse on today. And apples are red! Well, over time. They are grey, but when september comes, they turn red," grinned Jungkook and shaked a little in his seat, perhaps from excitement mixed with a sudden wave of shyness that hit him when all eyes of the children were on him, "and y/n's sneakers are also red." he mumbled and looked at your feet under the table.

"That is… awesome, Kookie. I'm so glad!" smiled the teacher.

Back then, you were in awe from your best friend. You've never seen a single color in your life before. Your mum told you just what color of clothing you were wearing each day and you asked her to explain every single color of the rainbow to you, but you could never really understand. That didn't stop you from asking her, though.

Now you know why the teacher was so shocked. Jeon Jungkook was just nine when he saw his first color. People usually didn't see colors up until they are adults, or even later on in life.

People in your world are born color-blind. You live your life in black and white every day, feeling monotone and numb from everything that's going on. You go to school every day and you learn about the aspects of the world without really seeing them in full beauty. You get dressed every day without knowing how it really looked like. Sad days felt even sadder to those who still lived their life as color-blind.

When do you start seeing colors, you may ask? It's when you start falling in love. Some may not even notice it, because it comes slowly and naturally. Some start seeing a few colors at once, some only one and nothing for a long, long time. Some people start off with less-saturated colors that turn more vibrant as their love intensifies and some just start seeing the colors in their full beauty from the start. It varies from person to person. It was amazing, really.

But what was unbelieveable at little Jeon Jungkook seeing red at just the age of nine is that, he was a child.

Little Jeon Jungkook was just nine when his heart was already full of love.

You were fifteen when you layed on the grass in your back yard with your mum.

You asked her again about the color of the sky, the desire of finally finding your true love so big you could combust.

You didn't understand her when she told you about the saturation and the hue of the color blue that was right in front of your eyes. Of course you didn't. You were fifteen and still color-blind.

"When did you start seeing colors, mum?" you ask her and look at her with pure interest written in your irises, which color you're only about to see.

"When I met your dad, of course." she answered. It was beautiful to see the love her eyes still held for the man. You admired the simple emotion.

"How old were you?"

She took a quick moment to count the years in her head before responding a simple number. "Nineteen."

You looked at her in surprise. "Wow. That is so young." you beamed.

"Yes. But the thing is, it could happen even sooner."

You furrowed your brows at her in confusion. "How?"

"Well, it's also about if you really realise you're falling in love. Sure, you can see a few colors a few times some times, but they quickly turn grey in your memory if you don't embrace the feeling in your heart. If you sub-conciously deny the feeling, you deny the colors." she explained and your face scrunched up into even a bigger confusion, urging your mother to explain more.

"Yes, it's about falling in love. And you can't stop that. But the more you embrace it, the quicker the colors come. For example, I could be falling in love without even realising it. That happens. But you start seeing the colors only when you do." she talked more and you listened to her with pure interest.

"That means you didn't realise you were in love with dad for a while?" you asked, referencing to her previous point.

"Yeah. I didn't like him very much at first. Or at least I thought so," she giggled, "but after a while, I started seeing soft shades of color whenever he was around and that's when I really knew."

You turned to look at the grey sky again, frowning. "That sucks. What if I never realise I'm falling for someone? Will I be stuck with black, white and greys forever?"

Your mum laughed next to you, quick to bring you the comfort you need. She grabbed your hand and gently squeezed it in reassurance before speaking to you again. "Don't worry, honey. When time comes, you will fall for someone and your world will turn upside down."

No longer so little Jeon Jungkook started seeing the color blue just at the sheer age of seventeen. You know this, because he's told you just at the moment it happened.

You were at your school dance. It was your first time attending. You were already a sophmore in high school and even tough you had yet so much to learn from life, you felt so mature, swinging ever so gracefuly in your long dress to the rythm of the music ringing in the school auditorium.

Your best friend was your date. He asked you the day the dance was announced, excitement shining all through his handsome face.

"I thought you'd want someone else to go with you," you said, sceptical about his decision.

The little nine year old Jeon Jungkook who could see the color red grew into a handsome teenager. You swore some of your classmates started seeing color just because of your best friend, and you wouldn't blame them - he had the manners of a prince, treating women like a true gentleman would, showing only his sweetest side to the world. I mean, you would know, you've known him for your whole life.

So the thought of seventeen year old boy Jeon Jungkook wanting to spend his first high school dance with his best friend that yet had to go through her glow-up was a little unbelieveable in your eyes.

"Why?" you still remember the way he furrowed his brows at your remark, looking like a lost puppy.

"Well, any of these girls would go with you if you just asked them…" you pointed out, trying to enlighten the poor boy.

"Do you not wanna go with me?" his face fell down a little and when your heart physically feelt like someone squeezed it with full force. You mentally told yourself that it wouldn't hurt if Jungkook spent his first dance with you, because you'd like it too, after all.

"No, I do, really. I just didn't think you'd want to go with me." you chuckled.

Nobody else would want to go with you. You were sure of that. In your eyes, you haven't really blossomed into a beautiful girl yet, with braces on your upper teeth and boobs that yet had to grow into their full potential. Maybe Jungkook wanted to go with you out of pity, or out of obligation to your parents, because they were a big part of his growing up as well.

"Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend, I want to spend that day with you." his reasoning sounded sweet, yes, but in your ears, it only made you believe that what you thought was true.

Nonetheless, you smiled at him and nodded, searching for that excitement you felt just a while ago and answered him with the most joy you could. "Okay."

Searching for the dress wasn't that fun. You were still color-blind, so the color did not really matter for you. You were quite envious of Jungkook for seeing the color red since he was nine, because that would be enough for you, truly. It meant you could see the apples turn ripe, you could see the color of some of the fireworks on New Year's Eve, the way people would blush cutely in embarrasement. It would be enough for you even when choosing a dress, because you were sure that if you saw even one hint of a color, you'd choose a dress in that variation. But you saw nothing but a million shades of gray as you walked through the aisles of the clothing store.

You chose a dress on its siluette that time. You felt like a princess wearing it. What a shame you did not even know the exact shade of your hair that was braided into a stylish crown.

It happened on the last dance of the night. Jungkook swore to get you home by midnight and you were actually fine with it, because you've spent the night with him only, due to the fact that you did not have many friends. You were getting a little tired from dancing the whole evening and being up since the early hours after a short time of sleep you got due to the fact that you were just too excited to fall asleep the night before.

The song was slow and you felt the hands of your best friend hold you tighter, hugging you around the waist. It felt good. You always felt good in his arms. He was your best friend and you could not imagine a person you'd feel safer with.

"Thank you for tonight, Kook." you mumbled and put your head on his shoulder, eyes droopy and hazy. You felt like you could fall asleep any second in his hold when his excited voice woke you up.

"Your dress is blue!" he cheered, making you snap your head off his shoulder and looking him in the eyes in confusion.

"Yes, I told you that weeks ago, when my mum told me. You said that your mum helped to match the color of your tie," you pointed, voice a little croaky from screaming into his ear over the music the whole night.

"I know, but I see it now! I swear!" he beamed, eyes roaming all over your body, taking in the color, hue and vibrance of it all.

"What?"

"It's beautiful, y/n. It's blue. You look so good in blue." he said, biting on his lip.

You swore your best friend has never looked so beautiful before, with eyes shimmering in the light in excitement and pure joy, lips tugged into a big bunny smile.

You smiled a him back, squeezing his shoulders in return. "That's awesome!"

But even after that, you still felt something small pointing inside of your heart, making your eyes water a little and smile fall just the slightest bit, because

Jeon Jungkook is falling in love and he can now see the color of the sky.

You were just at the sheer age of eighteen when you saw your grandma cry for the first time.

It was hard to see her through your already teary eyes, but her sobs echoed through your head like knives that were slowly, but surely cutting all the way through your heart.

You were sitting in the plastic hospital chair, looking at the grey wall right in front of you. You swore the day felt even more faded than it already was, the fear in your heart clenching your insides, making you feel like you could vomit every second.

Suddenly, the loud sound of a violet sob cut through the air, making you snap your head to look at your grandma sitting next to you.

"What is happening? Are you okay?" you asked, suddely up on your feet and crouching down to look into the face of your grandma with her head down.

She didn't respond as she tried to catch her breath. "Grandma, talk to me. What is going on?" you insisted and held her hands in your shaky ones, desperately trying to understand the situation.

"I can't see colors anymore." she cried out and the noise was so hurtful you swore you were going to hear it in your biggest nightmares. You stopped holding her hands, bringing them up to cup your own face to ground yourself.

Because that was it. It's the end. There was no need for you to sit in the uncomfy hospital chair, because there was nothing left for anyone to do. It was over.

When the doctor came into the waiting room with a saddened expression on his always so professional face, there was nothing left for him to say, because you both already knew.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs y/g/s." he said nonthless, but perhaps he already knew that these words couldn't ease the pain you both felt at the time.

The doctor couldn't save your grandpa. He was gone. And your grandma knew, because her world was colorless again. She was left without her love on this world. It was quite poetic, really. Your world turned into grayscale as soon as your true love died, as if the world couldn't be beautiful anymore because the love of your life wasn’t there with you to live it.

You heard quickened footsteps reaching the waiting room as your parents and a familiar figure ran up to you and your grandma, anxious expressions on all of their faces.

You were just eighteen when you swore you never wanted to see colors ever in your life in fear of losing them some time. You were fine without them, if it meant you had nothing to lose.

You were eighteen when the arms of your best friend enclosed around you to shield you from everything, trying to take all your pain away as he whispered into your ear.

"It's going to be okay. I'm here."

Jeon Jungkook has been with you through all stages of your growing up. He was there when you lost your first tooth, when you fell and scratched your knee while playing catch with him on sunny afternoons, he was there even when you've gotten your first period and cried to your mother about it.

It only made sense for the two of you to become roommates at the age of twenty-one after getting into college. It did not surprise you that the both of you chose the same school, you two were kind of connected, after all.

And so here you are, laying on your couch in your two-bedroom small apartment, watching the TV with your beloved best friend. The scene was kind of domestic, if you really think about it. Just the two of you beside each other watching whatever tv show was playing in the TV to spend time definetly more productively than studying or doing your school work.

"I still can't believe that Mickey's trousers are red." you huff, pointing to the Disney classic going in your TV.

"What esle would they be?" laughs Jungkook in disbelief.

"I think you're lying to me," you playfully furrow your brows, "I always imagined them to be like.. green or something." you mumble.

"Green? Ew," he giggles, "besides, how could you imagine a color that you can't even see?"

"Well, I just have this feeling." you point out and giggle a little in return, realising the full volume of your words. You must sound truly ridicilous.

"You'll see when you begin to see colors. Green would really look horrible. Red is just right." he chuckles.

"Yeah, like that will ever happen." you scoff at him, earning a confused look from your best friend that kind of looks almost offended at the same time.

You glare at him and sigh. "Kook, we've talked about this. I don't want love. I'm fine as I am."

He rolls his eyes at you, scoffing. "You don't know what you're missing."

In attempt to change the topic, you quickly asked him a question that was, in your opinion, kind of spicy. "Who are you even in love with, though? Since you see some colors and shit."

He looks away from you, focusing back on the TV again. "I dunno."

His unbothered expression was truly getting on your nerves. "Yeah, sure. I bet it's Jieun, she's always been around since you saw the color red in elementary school." you chuckle.

His expression changes, his eyes once again rolling at your antics. "If you really say so." he mumbles.

"Don't even try to hide it, I've known you since, pretty much, always. She sat in front of us in elementary school and you never seemed to look away from her. Besides, she even goes to the same college as us. I don't know any other girl you've known since nine." you explain and watch him chewing on his bottom lip, the sign of him being irritated with you. But you don't really care. Just because you were fine without seeing colors did not mean you were fine with giving up on teasing your closest friends just because they do.

"Shut up."

Yeah. You got him.

You sigh again, finally getting back to watching the stupid cartoon replaying in the TV. What would it feel like watching it with color?

You quickly shut yourself in your mind. No, y/n. You don't care. You don't want to see colors.

You are currently sitting in a booth in a diner, a group of young adults surrounding your bored figure. You desperately try to engage in the conversation, but you just couldn't bring yourself to enjoy the company you currently have.

Jungkook is sitting opposite of you, Jieun right next to him, making heart eyes at him. Yes, she definetly does see color, you think. You are sure of that. Next to you, there is a tall boy from Jungkook's film class, Kim Taehyung. The rest of your group consists of Jimin, being a best friend of the boy sitting next to you, Hoseok from your english class and Yeri, perhaps the only girl friend you have.

Don't get me wrong, you love these people. But sometimes, you tend to feel a little left out.

Jungkook is talking to Jieun. They seem to be really engaged into their conversation, their shared classes being a connecting point for the two. Jimin, Hoseok and Yeri are talking as well, but you don't bother to even listen to the topic of their interest. And then there's you, awkwardly sitting next to a boy you've just met moments before, bearing the occasional looks from your best friend that are, as you interpret, urging you to talk to Taehyung and get to know him better. He really never shuts up about you needing to engage with people more, because he still has his mind set on making you finally see colors.

"Wanna go somewhere else?" you hear a deep voice next to you ask, making you snap back into reality.

"What?" you furrow your brows, looking him into eyes.

"You don't seem to feel comfortable here, so I was just thinking if you wanted to leave or something." he cleared up and you moved your eyes back to the table in front of you.

"Oh."

"We could go to the park, it's quiet there. Or I can walk you home, if that's where you wanna go." he says and you think about it a little. You look around the group surrounding you and realise that you really have no intention to fully try to enjoy the time with them today.

"Sure. Fine." you sigh and stand up, swiping away the non-existent dust on your trousers.

"Okay." he says before saying goodbye to your friends and leading you out of the building so you can finally calm down the headache that was starting to form upon hearing all the noise.

You quietly leave the diner with the feeling of all eyes on you as you made your way to the nearest park.

"Wow, I've been told I'm a social butterfly, but meeting you, I really don't know how to start up a conversation," says Taehyung and scratches the back of his neck.

You softly laugh at his remark. "I'm not the best at making friends."

"Why is that?" he asks with curiosity.

"I don't know. I've never really had that many friends growing up and college is not making it any better," you chuckle and look around the park.

It's fall, just the start of your first semester in college. You know just a few people in your class and a few of Jungkook's classmates, but that is all. You never really had the need for many friends. Jungkook was enough for you. He was always there for you, he was all you needed. You never even attempted to make more friends before.

"Aah, I see. Well, we could be friends." he smiles, looking ever so attractive in your eyes.

"Yeah, we'll see, we'll see." you tease him as you walk through the park.

Kim Taehyung is an interesting person and you've learned that just the moment he came into your life. The night was filled with laughter and you quickly found yourself feeling content and happy with him. It felt natural, being with him.

"You know what, maybe you are a social butterfly after all." you tell him just before saying goodbye after he walked you home.

"Do you see any colors yet?" asks Jungkook the next morning when the both of you are eating dry cereal straight from the box for breakfast.

"What? Of course not," you scoff, "why would you think that?"

"Well, you left with Taehyung last night and you seemed pretty happy when I came home later." he shrugs and moves to look to the box of cereal in a meaningless manner.

"Do you really think he is the love of my life? Please." you laugh out loud just at the thought.

Yes, Kim Taehyung certainly was attractive as hell, but no sparks went flying between the two of you. You didn't see him in that light. Maybe it was because of the promise you made to yourself three years ago, but that did not change anything. You were not falling in love with Kim Taehyung, or anyone, ever.

"He is a good guy, you know…" mumbles Jungkook.

"Okay, and? My vision is still in gray scale Kookie, and it will stay that way." you deadpan and stand up from your seat to go and change into your clothes so you can leave for school.

"I'll remind you of this statement when you finally start seeing color one day." he chuckles and follows you through the hallway into his own room to change from his rusty sweatpants into something more presentable.

Kim Taehyung is right next to you as soon as you reach the school grounds. "Did you sleep well?"

You look at him in confusion before answering his sudden question. "Yeah. Did you?"

"Just peachy." he nods and smiles like a little ray of sunshine.

Jungkook glares at him from the place to the right from you. "Are you not gonna ask me how I slept?"

"No, not really." laughs the other boy, teasing him.

"Okay, you two, I'm gonna head to the english class, I'll see you at lunch?" you point to your best friend, questioning him, but the answer comes from the boy next to him, making you furrow your brows once more.

"Yeah!"

He pretty sure just invited himself to come. Well, he wasn't called a social butterfly for nothing, am I right?

You meet Yeri in your english class and sit next to her, as always. It was good to have at least one girl at your side to gossip about all the boys in your class with. Nothing like a good girl to girl conversation.

"Boys are weird." you grunt instead of greeting, making her look at you in pure confusion.

"Yeah. Any reason in particular?" she asks.

You think of answering for a while, but decide not to mess her head with your confusion. Were you and Taehyung friends from now? It was always just you and Jungkook sitting together at lunch. It made you feel somewhat secure in the mass of unknown people surrounding you in the cafeteria.

"Hmmm, no." you mumble and start to focus on your lecture.

"Are you having lunch now?" asks Yeri after the class and you look at her with big eyes.

"Yeah. I'm eating with Jungkook and Taehyung." you enlighten her and try to rush so you don't keep them waiting, but your classmate stops you as she pretty much invites herself to join you as well.

"Oh! I'll join you."

What was with people these days?

The lunch is kind of awkward. Each of your friendships has a different dynamic and you feel like they don't really match each other. I mean, you've known Jungkook pretty much your whole life. You are confortable with him. Yeri is your new friend and you are both at that point in your friendship where you are comfortable with gossiping together, but wouldn't trust each other with their secrets. And Taehyung was a person that you've spent the last night out with and you didn't exactly know if you'd consider him as a friend of yours or just a very friendly acquaintence.

Yeri tries to start a conversation first, but you can't seem to find the right words to say. Her focus quickly changes to Taehyung as he's the only one who knows how to really speak in this group.

"Yeah, I'll go." you mumble as you finish your lunch and apologitecly smile at the three people in front of you.

You truly are not good with people.

It is winter and you decided to go ice skating with your roommate, who from this day was also known as your personal skating teacher.

"Fuck you, I hate this." you spit at him when you land your ass on the cold ice just about the hudredth time.

"No, you don't! It's so much fun!" he cheers and takes you by your hand, which wasn't a foreign gesture from him, but has always made you kind of shocked.

"Yes, I do. You should have asked Jieun to go with you." you glare and try to stand straight in order to keep your unsteady body on your legs.

"Why would I?" he scoffs and you swear you see just the tiny bit of redness creeping on his cheeks when he looks away from you.

"Because of the colors and stuff. I haven't heard you talk about a new one in a while, though. Is something happening between the two of you?" you bring up, questioning him.

"No," he shakes his head, "and I still don't see why you think I'm in love with her."

"I told you a million times and I'm 100% sure of it. I mean, you are blushing right now, so if that doesn't prove anything…" you trail off and look at him rolling his eyes next to you.

"Well, what about you and Taehyung? Do you see any colors yet?" he changes the topic and tries to counter-attack.

But he fails. "No. Tae is just my friend, that's all."

"Tae? As long as I know, his name was Taehyung." he points out and you furrow your brows.

"And? People are allowed to have nicknames, you know." you glare.

"You only ever called me by a nickname, though…" you see him getting redder at pointing it out and you can't help but laugh at his embarrased face.

"Yeah, because I only ever had one friend, you know."

"Is he only a friend to you, though?" he asks and you swear you feel your blood boiling.

"Why are you so obsessed with this? I can't see colors for shit, so I'm pretty sure of my feelings, you know. And I'm perfectly fine and content with that, I told you numerous times." you spit.

"Because I want you to love someone." he deadpans, making you stop in your tracks. You are surprised you were able to do that without falling again.

"Why?"

"Because it's beautiful," he shrugs, "and you deserve that."

"But I don't want that. It would ruin my life." you say, perfectly sure of your opinion you've guarded since you were nineteen.

"Do you really not want to fall in love just because you're scared of losing them one day? Because that's bullshit." his eyes are hooded with annoyance and his voice is slightly raised as he kills you with his glare.

"Love is bullshit." you argue back.

"Your opinion is bullshit! Why would you give up on love?"

"Look, Kookie. I'm not a hopeless romantic like you are. I don't need that baggage in my life. If I don't have it, I can't lose it. That's my view of things." you shrug and continue to skate.

"But you always wanted to see the colors of the sky." he says nonchalantly, but the sentence holds more hurt than you'll ever imagine.

Because it was true. It was your biggest dream since you've been a child. But if it meant falling in love, you were more than happy to give up on your dream.

"I don't anymore. And now, kindly go to hell with this bullshit. Call Jieun if you want to talk about love, I'm sure her life is full of color." you say as you bite on your lip, feeling your eyes burn with a familiar feeling.

You let go of his hand you didn't even realise you've been holding the whole time and cautiously leave the skating rink.

"Did Tehyung ever talk to you about… seeing colors and stuff?" asks Yeri one day before class, making you truly annoyed. It seemed like everyone but the two of you wanted for you and him to be a pair.

"No, Yeri, he did not, and we are not in love." you snap back at her, rolling your eyes. You swear that if she doesn't stop talking about him soon, you will cut a bitch.

"Oh. Well… that's.. good? Umm…" she mutters, looking away from you.

"Sorry if I caught you off guard, I just… everyone keeps talking about him and me being together, but I just want all of you to understand that it's not happening." you change your tone and try to act less annoyed than you really are.

"That's really good, truly. Because… well, here's the thing," she starts and confidently claps her hands, "I am going to tell you something."

"Yes?" you ask, eyebrows close to your hairline now.

"I may or may not have see a color or two. Perhaps three." she says and you look at her without any reaction. Don't blame yourself though, your mind's gone pretty much blank with a little hint of jealousy that you desperately try to hide. "And it's all since I've known Taehyung." she completes.

You are pretty sure your mouth is hanging open in surprise when she gently takes her hand and forces you to close it. "I know, I know, it's kind of ridicilous, but…"

"It's not!" you yelp, trying to calm her down and encourage her.

"Yeah, well…"

"And are you sure it's because of Taehyung?" you ask.

"I'm pretty certain." she nods.

"How do you… know?" you ask, feeling like that one time when you asked your mum in your back yard.

"You just feel it. I feel safe with him, I feel joy. Content. He makes me feel… happy, you know?" she grins and her grey eyes glitter with fondness over the boxy-grinned boy.

They are all right. Love really is beautiful.

But you'll be fine without it, right?

"I'll ask Tae about you," you smile at her, suddenly feeling like you want to play a true wingman to your friends.

"No!" she yelps. "Don't. I don't want to.. you know.. I don't want him to know if he doesn't feel the same."

You giggle in understatement. "Don't worry. I'll make it so he doesn't realise."

Well, you did say that. But the fact that you still weren't really good at talking to people was very much appearent as one of your permanent personality traits.

"Tae, do you.. see colors?" you ask, watching his tiny dog wiggle his tail as he walks a few meters in front of you.

"Oh. What a sudden question," he mutters and when you look at him, his cheeks are a little red.

"Yeah. So? I was always pretty straight-forward." you giggle.

"Why are you asking?" he asks, unsure if he wants to answer.

"Just answer."

"Mayhaps…" he trails off and nervousely giggle.

You stop in your tracks and you swear you can feel the offended look of Yeontan on the leash looking at you. He was a dog of many emotions.

"Holy shit! Everyone I know sees color now!" you yell out, not really knowing how to act at this realisation.

But you were here to ask about Yeri, after all. So you go back to the business. "And since when?"

"Since fall," he smiles and you physically feel your face turning into a smile.

Bingo. That's when he and Yeri met!

"Okay, that adds up." you giggle and he looks at you, shocked.

"Wh-what? Do you feel the same?"

You swear you gasp at that moment, all the air in your lungs leaving your body. "Do- do I feel the same?"

"Well, you said that it adds up, so…" he starts, but his expression quickly changes into a dissapointed one.

"Yeri. You met her in fall." you deadpan.

"Yeri-"

"She loves you." you blurt out, now anxious and desperate of saving the situation.

"But I- I am falling for you."

You swear you hear your heart thumping after hearing the sentence. No, this can't be happening…

"Taehyung…" you start, but your voice breaks.

"I started seeing colors since the day I met you, y/n. It's you." he says, biting on his lip.

You were twenty-one years old when you broke someone's heart for the first time. You were twenty-one when someone confessed to you for the first time, leaving you feeling guilty of not being able to love them back.

"I'm so sorry-" you start, your breathing uneven and short.

"You should go." he says as he takes the leash of his dog from your hand and looks away from you, slowly walking in the other direction.

You were twenty-one years old when you got your first panick attack.

You ran home all the way from the park, silently cursing youself in your head. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What have you done?

You tried to hide in your room as soon as you unlocked the front door, but Jungkook was right next to you as soon as he heard your heavy breathing and lound thumps on the floor.

"What is going on? Are you okay?" he asks as he sits next to you on your bed, eyes on your shaking body.

You don't let yourself cry when he hugs you and soothes your back, calmly whispering words of encouragement to your ear so you relax. "Focus on my breathing, okay? Breathe."

Just his thoughtful words make you get back to reality, attempting to breathe just because he told you to. You listen to his breath, breathing in when he does and breathing out at the same time. Your breaths were synchronized and you soon felt your hands stop gripping the material of his hoodie you didn't even know you were desperately holding on to.

"Are you fine now? Are you okay?" he asks with worry in his tone.

You just nod and burry your nose into the fabric of his hoodie further, trying to relax with the calming scent of his fabric softener.

"Do you want to talk about it?" his voice cuts through the relaxing silence again.

You think before responding to him. "Maybe."

It would be hard to keep it all in. You needed to talk to somebody. And you know you can always count on your best friend to listen to you.

"What happened?"

You sigh. "Taehyung… he just told me he's falling in love with me."

You feel his breathing hitch in his throat as his hands grip you a little tighter. "And what did you say?"

"Koo, you know I don't see any colors. I am not in love with him." you mumble and look him into the eyes.

"I'm sorry." he says, taking you off guard.

"For what?"

"Just… yeah." he scoffs and gently caresses your back. "Why did you have a panick attack about it?"

You bite on your lip before speaking again. "Because I broke his heart. He started to see colors because of me and I feel like maybe I led him on? Why did I make him fall in love with me? What did I do? I ruined his life, Kook." you explain, expressing all of your deepest regrets.

"It's not your fault," he reassures you, but you don't believe him. The guilt you feel on the inside is just so much bigger.

"I am not worthy of love." you shake your head, but your best friend is not going to let you talk like that about yourself and you should have known that by now.

"Stop. You are," he starts, softly cupping your cheek, "you are the most important person in my life. You are kind, gentle, sweet and so, so beautiful. So stop saying that. Taehyung knew all of this when he fell in love with you, and it's not your fault you don't feel the same. You don't have to feel guilty."

You stare into his eyes. "Love sucks."

"No." he shakes his head.

You sigh and turn around in his arms so you are laying in your bed, head on his shoulder. You felt comfortable and safe. You knew you could uncover your everything to him.

After a moment of silence, you begin to speak again. "What about you, though? You haven't talked about Jieun in a long time."

"Do I have to talk about her?" he asks.

"I mean, you don't, but you're in love with her, so I thought you'd talk about her at least once in a while." you chew on your bottom lip.

You hoped Jungkook never gets his heart broken like Taehyung just had.

"I am not. You just say that." his voice is serious and it makes you look at him in surprise. Your faces are way too close to each other and you swear you feel his breath on your skin.

"You are! Who else would you love? Or have you fallen out of love with her? Is that possible? You haven't talked about a new color since we moved in here, so that would make sense-"

"Y/n, I can see all the colors since I was eighteen." he shuts you up.

You blink a few times, trying to connect all the dots in your head. "I don't understand." you shake your head.

It's his turn to sigh before closing his eyes for a second and responding to you. "Do you remember the first color I saw?"

You furrow your brows. "Yeah. It was red. You were nine."

"Yeah. I was nine and you were my seat-mate." he says, but you still don't catch on.

"And?"

"Do you remember the second color I saw?" he asks again.

"Yeah. It was blue. On our sophmore-year dance." you answer.

"I was fifteen and you went to the dance with me. Your dress was blue and blue has been my favorite color ever since." he says and you physically feel your heart swelling.

"And?"

"And do you know when I started seeing all colors?" he asks.

"You never told me. I thought you only saw these two and green." you mumble, a sudden pain dripping in your chest. Did he not trust you enough to share that with you? He always told you everything.

"It was when we were eighteen, y/n. On the day your grandpa died." he says, licking his lips and nervously chewing on them.

"O-oh." you sigh.

"I just didn't tell you because it wasn't the right time. You were in pain, and I held you as you were shaking on the ground. All I wanted to do was take all the hurt and pain from you, even if it meant I'd die. And when I blinked, there it was. All the colors. Everything." he explains, his gaze not once leaving your eyes.

"No, Jungkook-"

"Y/n, I-" he starts, but you can't let him finish it.

"Don't say it. No." you cut him off, your eyes burning with tears.

You begin to cry as the weight of his words fall on you. Your best friend is in love with you, and you are for sure going to break his heart, even though it hurts you. You can't accept his love, because one day, it will be gone and that will hurt more than anything. And you can't let that happen.

"Y/n, just let me say it. My world is so beautiful just because of you, and I just want to let you know. I don't want anything else in return, because I know what you think about love, but I just need to get this off my chest," he begins and you have no strength left to stop him, "but I love you. And I have ever since I was pretty much nine." he softly laughs.

You shake your head in dissaproveal, hoping to let him know everything that is going on inside of your head.

"Why are you crying, baby girl? It's okay." he whisperes into your ear, holding you tighter.

"Because I don't want to break your heart. I care about you too much, Kook. I just-" you sob into his shoulder, bearing the second mental breakdown of the day, "you are my everything, you know? I can't let you get hurt."

"It's okay. You won't break my heart, y/n. I know you don't see any color, and that's okay." he says and pets your hair like you are a little girl.

"It's not-" you say and you open your eyes after a while, but the sight in front of you makes you stop.

Jungkook. He is so beautiful. His doe eyes are a little glossy, his lips bitten. His hair is a mess and his hoodie has a wet stain from your tears, but he is still so, so beautiful. And you take it all in, because his eyes are dark brown and so is his hair, and his skin looks like honey. His lips are pink and so inviting, and the hoodie he has on is dark purple.

And suddenly, you laugh through the tears.

You were so stupid. How could you think you could resist? You've broken the promise you made to yourself when you were eighteen. You had everything to lose now.

"You are so pretty." you say as you trace his cheekbones with your thumb.

He stares at you with galaxies in his big, open eyes and lips parted. You swear you've never seen a better view.

"What?" he chuckles.

"You are so colorful." you breathe out and his lips slowly turn into a open-mouthed smile.

His fingers wipe away your tears. "Do you- do you mean that?"

You just nod. Because that is everything you're capable of now. The feelings come in waves to you, but they feel like they've always been there somewhere, ever since you were little. But now, the intensity grew as the pain of breaking his loving heart creeped to the insides of you, making you finally realise what you've been feeling, but mentally denying all along.

"Jungkook, I love you." you say.

He softly laughs before slowly tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "I love you. But why so.. why so suddenly?"

"I just… the thought of breaking your heart hurt so much it made me realise some things, I guess." you mumble and look at his lips, still so pink and inviting as if it was the first time you've seen them.

He takes it as a hint, but still asks for your permission. "Can I kiss you?"

You gently nod before closing your eyes and leaning to meet him in the middle, your lips softly crashing and moving in sync, as if they were made for it. You feel the same wave of emotion fill you again as it warms up your whole entire body and suddenly, you understand why you've always felt safe with him and why all your happy memories contain your best friend. You just never chose to realise it.

You were twenty-one when the love you felt came so strongly to you that you started seeing the whole rainbow at once.

You were twenty-one when a dream of the little Jeon Jungkook has finally came true.

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avatar-state-kate · 4 years

Text

Okay so I alluded to a potential essay in this post and now I’m here to deliver on that promise. So here is the essay on

Kuvira as a Foil for Korra: A Culminating Conclusion

I am a firm believer that the difference between a foil and a great foil is the presence of similarities to really accentuate the differences.

For example, by making both Katara and Azula prodigious, 14-year-old benders, that they use their power for such different ends is only more poignant.

When considering Korra and Kuvira, it is their similarities which help to make their differences shine, so we will begin there.

One in the Same

Action oriented: Korra’s approach to problems is to rush headfirst into them, Korra is not a patient person and needs to take an active role, which is partly why having to sit out post season 3 is so difficult for her. While Kuvira is not impulsive she similarly takes action, stepping up to reunite the earth kingdom pre season 4 and fighting her own battles- best demonstrated in her one on one fight with Korra for Zafou

Ends justify the means: Korra’s morality when introduced is not based on any hard code so much as it is on sides- the good side and the bad side. Most actions, if done by the good side, are justifiable. For example going around the presidents back and having the united forces fight in a foreign countries war. It is Korra’s intentions and status as the Avatar (the good guy) which define her actions as moral. Kuvira, similarity operates on similar moral logic, her intentions are good, and thus what she and her army does to achieve those intentions is also ‘good’, or at the very least excusable.

Isolated childhoods; Korra was raised in the white lotus compound and Kuvira in Zafou. Both are cut off from the larger world, and both are over protected, Korra by the white lotus and Kuvira by Su - who we can infer from Opal’s subplot in season 3 of needing to convince her mom to let her go out on her own to train as an air nomad as being overprotective

Capability: both Korra and Kuvira have a need to prove themselves as capable as a result of their sheltered childhoods where they were made to feel incapable. Being action oriented this manifests in both developing and show casing their bending abilities

These similarities are important to remember as it is how each women handles these characteristics that defines them.

Black, White, and Grey

A lot of the older discourse surrounding Legend of Korra discussed how Korra’s arc was to learn compassion for others, however current discourse has fortunately recognized that Korra did not need to learn compassion; she was always a compassionate person. However, what she did need to learn was a level of moral ambiguity.

As described above, Korra followed an ends justify the means sort of mentality, as an extension of that however, Korra’s morality was defined by sides. Her side, and those against her. The avatar’s side, or the bad guys side. Under this oppositional framework there is no cross over, for her villains to insinuate they are anything like her, she is anything like them, is a deep insult.

This unfortunately prevents Korra from learning from her adversaries, as everything they thought is, to Korra, connected to what they did. We see the fallout of this mentality most in the transition from season 1 to season 2 where the dissolution of the council and democratic election where not initiated from Korra and none of the community initiatives started by Amon, such as the self defence classes, are continued. Korra abandons the equalist cause I’m full. However we begin to see this change in season 2 when Korra decides leave the spirit portal open, conceding that Unalaq was right about some things.

Korra’s learning moral ambiguity concludes with her meeting with Zaheer in season 4. Actively seeking guidance from a ‘bad guy’ symbolic of Korra’s realization that all people have worth while insight, that Zaheer is not just a villain, but a person.

Kuvira conversely maintains her ends justify the means mentality until the finale, with those who question her actions against her. Either you are on Kuvira’s side, the side of progress and stability, or you are an insubordinate, with no grey space in between.

Yin and yang is a common motif throughout the Avatar series, and while framing yin and yang as a good/bad dichotomy is a farce, the concept of light existing in dark, of one being born of the other, is extremely relevant. The fight between Ravva and Vatuu in the legend of Wan was not threatening while each was of equal size, it was only when they separated and Vatuu became stronger that the threat to the world arose. It is not a question of whether someone has badness in them, but a question of inner balance.

Stability versus Balance

Korra developing a more nuisances moral framework causes a shift from seeking stability to seeking balancing in the world. This may seem like the same thing, but to be balanced on a beam or wire is not to be rigid and rooted, but to move with the changes to stay upright. Balance is dynamic and fluid, the world is always changing and Korra needs to learn to guide the flow, not stop it.

Kuvira, however is not seeking balance but stability. She does not want to move with the world, but to bend it to her will. Her plan to reclaim Repyblic City and the rest of the now independent former colonies is a testament to that. Rather then develop with this new world Kuvira wants to set it right.

Connection versus Isolation

Korra begins season 4 more alone then she has ever been, one of the major themes of Korra Alone (which will get its own analysis one day). Korra’s injuries and trauma from the season 3 finale caused her to cut herself off from others, and while time away to heal was undoubtedly necessary, to complete her healing Korra must reconnect to the world and others.

This journey starts with a pilgrimage to the swamp, which in atla is where Aang learns that separation is an illusion as all of the vines are connected. Here Toph removes the last of the poison in Korra enabling her to connect to the avatar state. Korra also learns to use the spirit vines to see the world- she is reconnected spiritually.

Upon regaining her spiritual connection Korra is able to reach out to the air kids- her family- and begin to reforge the relationships she had disconnected herself from.

Kuvira, alternately has an opposite arc as she becomes more isolated. We see that Kuvira is emotionally distant as those who are supposedly in the inner circle, Bolin and Varrick riding in her car on the train, have no knowledge of the true nature of Kuvira’s regime. Her confrontations with Su culminating in operation Beifong where she physically fights her mother figure showcase Kuvira cutting herself from her family. By the finale her loyalest followers (Varrick, Bolin, Zhu Li) and her family have deserted her, all she has left is Bataar Jr. who she is willing to kill in cold blood for her cause. (Look, while we all know Kuvira is sapphic this is still a significant move, bataar was nothing but loyal and a true friend to her, possible her only real ally)

Ultimately this is Kuvira’s undoing. Bolin, Varrick, and Zhu—Li warn of Kuvira’s impending attack on Republic City and the spirit gun. Opal, Lin, and Bolin break out and recruit the rest of the Beifong family. And finally Bataar jr. provided the krew with the intel needed to take down Kuvira’s mech.

The mech acts as a symbol for Kuvira, as it operates as a giant armour for herself, and is similarly dismembered, all of its limbs isolated just like Kuvira has become. It is only when she lies in the wreck of her armour that Kuvira sees how isolated she has become.

Just as Kuvira the mech is destroyed through dismemberment/isolation, Korra is only able to dismember the mech as a team, with Asami, Hiroshi, Varrick and Zhu-Li creating the hole to enter the suit, Lin and Su taking out the gun, Mako and Bolin taking out the spirit vines, and Korra the head Kuvira.

Korra, and us, need other people, to be healthy and happy – to be balanced.

In Conclusion: The Final Confrontation

Kuvira is the perfect villain to capstone the Legend of Korra because while she is a foil to the Korra at the end of season 4 she is in many ways similar to Korra’s past self. Kuvira is the perfect villain for the series finale because she demonstrates how much Korra has grown since her introduction.

This growth culminates in Korra’s ability to recognize herself in her enemies “we’re a lot a like”, a statement that when said by her adversaries was once seen as an insult now a realization of moral ambiguity.

In their final confrontation rather then taking Kuvira out Korra offers Kuvira forgiveness, a chance for redemption. While moves like this can cause discourse in fandoms (she was a fascist and she lives but x innocents die etc), in terms of symbolic story telling it is very significant as Kuvira in many respects represents Korra’s past self, and has become the isolated Korra of Korra alone, for Korra to forgive Kuvira is to forgive herself.

#cannot be bothered to edit this has been a long time coming #if something really makes 0 sense I am sorry #but clearly I can go off on this forever so hit me up and I’ll clear it up #Korra #Kuvira #legend of korra #lok #lok meta #legend of korra meta #meta #avatar

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vventure · 4 years

Text

Flex for Me

Pairing: Satori Tendō x fem!reader

Genre: Angst to Fluff

Word Count: 1k

All characters are aged 20+

Warnings: Slight angst, mentions of sexy times, mentions of pregnancy

A/N: This was something that came out of Haikyuu Horny Hours (I think I have this right, I’m sorry if I bungled it) on @haikyyuwu ‘s blog, and Kai gave me the go-ahead to write out the scenario in the pic below. I decided to have him wear boxers instead of being completely nude lol I wanted to make this gn, but I struggled with doing so, and I apologize for that! Also, I don’t think any of these things about Satori. He’s one of my favorite characters, but as someone with self-esteem issues, I understand where he’s coming from!

Tendō glared himself down in the large mirror over the sink of the master bathroom, his reflection slightly marred by the steam clinging to the smooth surface.

Even with a distorted view, he could still see his red hair and red eyes clear as day. They stared back at him tauntingly, reminding him that his appearance was a monstrosity.

And with that thought, his mind went to you. How could someone as beautiful, kind, and warm as you find him attractive. He didn’t have the looks, and he certainly didn’t have the personality.

The fact that you’d even agreed to marry him was baffling, but what astonished him the most was your desire to have a family with him some day.

What if your kids came out looking exactly like him? What if they got none of your normal, beautiful features? What if they were absolute teasing monsters with shit-eating grins like his? What if once they were born you resented him?

Self-doubt swirled around Tendō, latching onto the steam still lingering in the bathroom and coating his naked skin in an uncomfortable layer of wet heat.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t told you about all of his insecurities. You’d been the one to show him he was worth love, and he could never repay your patience and love. He’d even been honest about his concerns surrounding you getting pregnant, not realizing that he would offend you in the process.

Tendō was perfect to you, both physically and emotionally and the fact that he thought you’d ever resent him for having a child that looked like their eccentric and fun-loving father made your heart clench.

“Satori?” Your muffled voice carried through the door of the bathroom, accompanied by a light rapping of your knuckles against it.

Toweling off quickly, he opened the door to a gush of cold air that pricked goosebumps all over his skin. With a deep shiver, he walked past you with a sad smile to the dresser and pulled out a pair of black boxer briefs, pulling them onto himself and turning to look into the mirror over your vanity.

Everywhere he looked he saw a monster! He willed himself not to stare his visage down again, but it was almost like a car wreck: no matter how hard he tried to look away he couldn’t.

Something shifted in the mirror, and there you were standing next to him, looking into his eyes as he took in your figure. The morning light that illuminated your frame made you look like a goddess, golden light so strong it bounced off your shining hair and nearly blinded him.

He may have hated to look at himself, but he could look at you all day.

That thought made his eyes wander back to your face, where he saw your brows furrowed and your mouth set into a line.

“Why?”

“Why what?” He replied, one eyebrow arching into his forehead.

“Why are you beating yourself up again? I thought we talked about this.”

“It’s not that simple, [Y/n]! I can’t just--”

“Nope, I’ve heard this before, Satori,” you stopped him, walking over toward the stereo that sat in the corner of your shared bedroom. This was something that you both loved to enjoy together, and had multiple linked speakers throughout your house so you could listen to music together regardless of where you were.

“You know how body-builders flex for audiences?” You asked as you stuck a well-used CD into the player; it was something you’d burned yourself and had all of your favorite sexy songs on it. Pony by Ginuwine immediately came on, and Satori shot you a confused look. He wasn’t in the mood for sex.

“[Y/n] I--”

“I just want to try something, we’re not doing anything sexual, just do this for me, please?”

“O-Okay,” he replied, watching you sit down in the middle of the bed while he stood at the foot of it, waiting for you to tell him what this was all about.

“Okay, jellybean, I wanna see those muscles. First pose,” you commanded, a smile spread across your face.

“I don’t know what pose you want,” he replied, his brows knitting.

That’s when you did something that he thought would make his heart explode: you lifted your arms and flexed your biceps, fists raised into the air with a triumphant smile.

Tendō let out a snort and an eye roll, but he could never deny you when you looked that cute, so he flexed his arms like you showed him.

Immediately, you placed your pointer finger and thumb into your mouth and let out a piercing whistle while your hips swayed against the comforter along to the music.

“Second pose!” You shouted with a laugh, repositioning your arms so that one fist was pointing toward the ceiling and one was pointing toward the bed, your biceps flexed.

A weight was lifting off his chest as he mimicked your pose, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Damn! Are you single?” Came your squeal, your hands clapping together feverishly as you beamed at him, your smile lighting the room more than any morning sun could. He couldn’t tear his eyes from you, loving the way you moved your arms and body from a seated position, really feeling the music. Coming back to yourself, you caught him staring and shot him a wink.

“Ok, last pose,” you laughed out. Your fists clasped together in front of your chest and you flexed your arms and pectoral muscles as an example. There wasn’t much for you to display, but you looked so endearing while showing these poses; he wondered where you’d learned this.

The burden of his self-conscious mind was fully lifted as he performed the last pose for your giggling, clapping self, his face on fire from the sustained smile.

“I’d say you won first place,” you spoke as the song came to a close on the stereo, flipping to the next track on the disc.

“You tricky kitten, you,” he teased, leaping onto you and pushing you back against the plush bed, his lips finding yours for a deep kiss. “I love you, [Y/n].”

“I love you more, Satori.”

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samwilsonshandsandass · 4 years

Text

Chapter 13 of Mr. Cavill you dog is kinda fat by @keanureevesisbae

‘I’m a changed man, Livi.’

I will only ever trust that sentence if it’s backed by numerous actions

Wesley could’ve stabbed me in my stomach and that wouldn’t have hurt or shocked me, as I am now. ‘He is six?’ I ask him, trying so hard not to raise my voice. ‘You knocked someone up right after you left me?’ Wesley doesn’t say a word. ‘Oh my God,’ I say in utter disbelieve, running my fingers through my hair. ‘You are un-fucking-believable. You left me, let me figure this whole parenting thing out all on my own, while you start a family? Wesley, what the fuck is wrong with you? I can’t believe this. You leave me, my whole family leaves me, because I got pregnant. Have you any idea in what kind of fucking situation you put me through?’

He's even more of a piece of shit than I thought

‘I want to get to know her.’

Are you fucking shitting me?!

It’s quiet for a few seconds, before I finally snap again. ‘That idiot honestly thought that he could just barge right back into my life, after everything he didn’t do for me?’ I ask myself out loud. ‘That bastard had the guts, the guts, to hand me over his card, so I could call him if we change our minds about it. Did you know he has a new lady, who is pregnant and already gave birth to a kid of him? That kid is six. Six! While I’m struggling with my job, with my new baby all by myself, he is out there, impregnating this other woman…’ ‘Mommy, what is impregnating?’ ‘… having kids with her and being a loyal loving family man. What the hell is wrong with him? Now I finally, finally have the life that I wanted for both myself and Vanessa and he has the nerves to just walk into my life again? Thinking he can do that? Why are men such big fat pigs? Who has the audacity to look around in a restaurant, see his ex girlfriend with her daughter and obviously her new boyfriend and just walk up to them to ask: ‘Is this her?’. Like he knows Vanessa. Like he was there for her when she was just born!’

‘Because… I want to get to know him.’ I sigh deeply. ‘Sweetheart, he left you, before you were born. I think that is all you need to know about him. Besides, you have a great dad now.’ She nods. ‘I know, but I want to ask him something.’ ‘What do you wanna ask him?’ ‘Why he left.’

‘But what if she likes him more?’ I ask and I realize that was my fear all along. ‘I tried so hard for her and what if she meets him and thinks: oh, that man, I like him a lot more than I like my mom and the entire family she gave me.’

My heart just ripped in half even just at the thought of this happening

‘No, no, no,’ Henry says, ‘you know that is not going to happen. Because of your honesty to her all these previous years, she is well aware of what he did to both you and her. It’s always her biggest fear that I’m leaving after she did something that she shouldn’t do. I think she just wants some answers, so she can think about it.’

And my heart tore a little more and then mended itself a tiny bit

I’m surprised Wesley is early. He was always late when we dated. Maybe he did change, a little bit. Before we walk into the cafe, I stop Vanessa in her tracks and I say: ‘You can ask him anything you want. If there is something he says that you don’t like, you can tell him that. If you want to leave, you can just ask me or Henry and we’ll leave right away. Remember, you don’t owe him anything.’

This is so important to tell Vanessa that this is in her hands!

Wesley takes her hand in his, while he keeps standing up. I don’t want to compare (but I’m still gonna), but all the insanely tall Cavills crouch down when they talk to her. ‘Hi Vanessa, I’m Wesley.’

This is such a good example of show don’t tell, I mean how do you not crouch down on the child’s level? Who is this awful? Even the leaders of entire countries do that!

‘Why did you leave my mommy?’ ‘Because I was scared,’ he says. ‘I thought I wasn’t ready to be a dad yet.’ There is so much I want to say to him. You think I was ready to become a mother? You think I wasn’t scared?

Seriously, show me one person, especially women, who aren’t scared of becoming a parent for the first time, especially under the pressure society puts on them in the manner of “Motherhood is a woman’s greatest calling and there is no reason to be scared or bad parts or whatever”

‘Why didn’t you want to love me?’ … Wesley doesn’t know what to say. ‘Am I that unloveable?’ she continues to ask.

My heart is breaking again

Vanessa frowns. ‘But he didn’t love me.’ ‘He didn’t even want to love you. He didn’t even try,’ I say, not caring he is there and can totally hear this. ‘Remember sweetheart, he walked out on you and me, not the other way around.’ ‘I was scared,’ Wesley tells me. ‘Don’t you think I was?’ I ask him, absolutely dumbfounded. I turn to Vanessa again and ask her: ‘Remember what I always tell you? About fear?’ She nods. ‘That you are allowed to be scared, but that it should never stop you in life.’

This child is the best and for the rest, refer back to the above. This man is unbelievable. Instilling the notion of not being lovable in Vanessa before she’s even born and then trying to justify himself with this weak-ass shit without any kind of introspective

‘You know,’ Vanessa continues, ‘I always wondered why I didn’t have a dad. Kids in my class have one and I wanted one too.’ ‘I understand,’ Wesley says, though he grows more uncomfortable with the second. I bet he underestimated my daughter and her communication skills and now he should deal with the consequences of that easy thinking of his.

Don’t underestimate children ever but especially don’t underestimate this child

‘And then my mommy met Henry,’ she says with a beaming smile. ‘He is a real daddy, you know. He bought me my first bike, my first Christmas tree and he took my out on a Valentines date two days ago.’ Yes, honey, please rub it in.

Tell him everything girl!

Wesley takes a sip of his coffee and he actually is trying to leave, I can totally see it in his body language. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Henry asks, picking up on those signs as well. ‘You sit down now. Vanessa is talking to you and you better listen to it.’

Okay but Henry has never met this man and each person has kinda different body language and tells (even if they’re small differences) and still he saw right through him

Vanessa nods. ‘He is going to adopt me soon,’ she continues, eyes shining bright with excitement. ‘And then we are officially a family.’ ‘Right.’

Rub it in rub it in rub it in rub it in

‘My mommy cried a lot because of you. She didn’t know I saw her, but usually at night she would cry on the couch. I heard her talking to my auntie Belle about you and that I don’t have a daddy. That’s your fault.’ … ‘Vanessa,’ Wesley says, ‘I don’t want to have this conversation with you.’

Wesley is not only a piece of shit he is also a coward. Yes, this is a seven year old child telling you in all honesty what she feels and how she feels about him but on top of that Wesley lacks any kind of introspective and he had seven years to work on that plus a new family which somehow has to endure him/lives with him

She seems a bit shocked. ‘Why not?’ she asks. ‘Yeah, Wesley, why not?’ I ask him, crossing my arms in front of my chest. ‘Tell her why not.’ ‘This is a grown up conversation.’ ‘No, it’s not,’ I retort. ‘It’s about her, so she should have a conversation with you and if you are intimidated by a seven year old, then you are really even less of a man than I figured you were.’ Henry clears his throat. ‘You keep your ass on that chair and if you don’t do that, I have no problems at all forcing you onto that seat. You listen to Vanessa and you have a conversation with her. Right here and right now.’

If he expected anything less, he’s even dumber than I thought

She thinks about her next move long and hard. ‘Cool.’ Vanessa simply stares at him and even tilts her head. ‘I don’t like you.’ My mouth falls open and I can’t help but feel so proud of her. ‘Excuse me, what?’ Wesley asks. ‘I don’t like you,’ she repeats, rolling her eyes and I can almost hear her thinking: Are you deaf? ‘You made me sad, because you walked out before I was born. You made my mommy sad and very angry yesterday and I don’t like it when that happens. I am happy that I saw you, because now I know that you… Mommy, can I say this?’ ‘Go for it.’ ‘Now I know that you really are an idiot.’ She looks at Henry. ‘Right, daddy?’ Henry nods. ‘You’re totally right, sunshine.’

YOU GO GIRL

‘You allow this?’ Wesley asks me. ‘You allow this kind of talk?’ ‘I didn’t know you had the right to give an opinion about my parenting skills,’ I say to him. ‘I wanted a second chance, but with what you are telling her about me…’

Wesley loses an IQ point with each second by himself through being himself

‘Is the truth, buddy,’ Henry says. ‘What did you think would happen? That they waited seven years for you to come back? Of course not. You left them and Olivia made the brave choice of raising her daughter with the upmost honesty and respect, something that you obviously lack.’ ‘And you think you can just barge into their lives and be the savior?’ Wesley retorts. ‘Excuse me?’ Henry asks. ‘I’ve been acting more like a dad to Vanessa in one day than you have been your entire life. I think you should be grateful that I swooped in and give her the dad she deserves to have.’

And apart from that, his dog threw up on his carpet and that set everything in motion but Wesley doesn’t need to know that

‘You totally set this kid up,’ he continues. ‘Talking bad about me behind my back.’ ‘Well, I would’ve talked bad about you right in your face, but you walked out of my life, remember?’

This is one of the situations where what happens/happened is actually their fault. And gaslighting? He is getting worse and worse by the second and I didn’t think that was possible

‘I do, actually and I did waltz into their lives. Turned out to be amazing. Honestly, Wesley, you don’t know what you’re missing. Vanessa is such a bright and intelligent and well spoken girl and Olivia is fascinating on her own and an amazing mother.’

Olivia marry this man asap

Wesley doesn’t have any control over himself anymore, because he launches forward, planning on hitting Henry, who doesn’t seem impressed one single second. Henry grabs my lousy ex boyfriend by his collar and pushes him against the wall. ‘What was that?’ he asks unbothered.

Who thinks of the idea of hitting a man of this body, height, posture, muscle mass and strength and thinks that’s a good idea? Like, every camera, even when used by professionals make you heavier by, say, 20lbs. So, in real life Henry (like every person) is a little slimer than on camera but his muscles stay and everyone can see what weights he lifts and how he runs and through his movies we also know how he moves in a fight and then hitting him seems like a good idea? Holy shit how dumb is this man?

God, he is sexy and this is totally doing things to my panties right now.

Same

‘Easy, wasn’t it?’ I could’ve known that Henry wasn’t going to just let him go. He throws Wesley to the ground and says: ‘You big piece of shit.’

How is this so hot

‘You are truly Superman, daddy,’ Vanessa says with a smile. ‘We are really tough, aren’t we?’

Vanessa sees him as Superman but she sees all of them as tough and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

The Cavill and Tran family groupchat Piers: I already told you guys, but I am proud that you told that idiot off and please tell me what Vanessa wants. I want to buy her a present for being such a total bad ass. Charlie: I swear, if I ever run into him, I’m going to throw him accidentally in front of the bus. What a fucking idiot. Mom: Charlie! Charlie: What? You said the exact same thing! Mom: But with you, I never know if you mean it. I don’t want any of my kids in jail, even if I agree with your actions. Dad: I’ll do it then. I’m old anyways. I have nothing to lose. Mom: Colin! Niki: Yeah, you go dad. You go throw that fucking moron in front of the bus. Henry: I support you, dad. Olivia: Not to be that kind of person, but I’d rather you spend time with Vanessa than in jail. Please leave the idiot alone. Mom: Finally some common sense in this group chat. I’m glad we added you, Olivia, because it can be hard being a woman alone with these guys. Dad: So I can’t throw him in front of the bus? Olivia: No, I’m sorry. I can tell you this though: resisting the urge to kill him, will get easier over time. Henry: I hope you are right, love. Simon: Not to be that guy, but Olivia, can you give me Belle’s number?

Have I already said I love their group chat? And Simon you go!

#my things

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angelspigeon · 4 years

Text

Rewrite the Stars - Chapter 02

Please go on AO3 to see Naotoosh’s awesome art!! I love was she is doing so much and i’m always blessed when she accepts to take my commission (plus her commission are open if I am right!!)

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When the spectacle had been over, Lea had received his own trailer. It was really tiny. Just having the place for a bed. But he wasn’t surprise. That was like that. He was new. He couldn’t have the same privileges as other. They didn’t know him. They even didn’t have shared the meal with him. He had eaten, of course… but alone, on his side.

Lea could have stayed in his trailer. He should have but… But he wanted to walk a bit. Know the place…

Maybe already train for a number?

Prove his value?

Just do something with his life?

He came outside, under the full Moon, and walked through the trailers. If he noticed the animals in their cage, there weren’t anyone outside. The windows were displaying light from everywhere and it was easy to wander here.

Though, as he moved along the circus area, he noticed someone. The moonlight was gleaming, reverberating on different area and this one especially. He jogged to them and smiled when he noticed Kairi, her arms on the side of a huge aquarium. The huge aquarium were everybody was gathering earlier.

“’Night,” he said.

“Night! If you’re still here, I suppose you’re one of us, right?” she smiled.

“Yes!”

“That’s what you wished from the beginning?”

“Yes!” he smiled. “I left my other Circus. Radiant Garden Circus.”

“Oh… A lot of us are coming from there!” she replied. “How many… hm…” She started to count of her fingers. “Well, with you, more than ten, for sure!” she joked, showing her hands. “Why did you leave the Circus?”

“It was hell… I really couldn’t stay there. I ran away… Took the first train. But I couldn’t just stay outside, wandering. You know how it is.”

“Actually… no?”

Lea was surprised but, yet, smiled slightly.

“Well… Me, I can only be a freak. I never had a home…” He looked down. “I couldn’t become an accountable or anything. I had to find another Circus.”

“So you ended here. Why here?”

“It could have been anywhere else. It’s just the first Circus I heard about, the first I found.”

“I see…”

“But you?!” Lea asked with a smile.

“I was born at Radiant Garden but Xemnas wanted to have me in his spectacle. He said he bought me. Someday, I’m asking myself if he really bought me like he would have bought fish at the supermarket?” she asked, letting go a giggle.

“Fuck… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry!! It was longtime ago. I think the things would have been the same if I was here or there! I’m Kairi, by the way!” she said, moving his hand to him so he could shake it.

“You’re strong!” he complimented, shaking it back.

“Thank you!”

“What’s your spectacle? I’ll cheer you up!” Lea said.

“I don’t have a spectacle,” she replied.

This time, the man frowned.

“But you said he wanted you for his spectacle?”

“Yes. But… he couldn’t actually put me in the spectacle. I’m not a talented magician like Luxord, nor a Lady Muscle like Lexaeus or Xaldin. Though they’re not ladies,” she added in a low voice, as if it was a secret.

She was still smiling.

“But then…”

She let out a giggle and jumped in the water. It splashed and Lea was immediately wet from the tip of the hair to the feet. But, especially, he saw a big pink fish tail, shining under the beam of the Moon.

Then the water splashed again and he let out a laugh.

She jumped out of the big tank and swirled, grabbing her tail to release it and land in the aquarium, making more water pass above the edge.

Her head appeared again outside, showing her beautiful smile.

“You’re a Mermaid!”

“I am!”

“A real one!”

“Yes!”

“Woaaah!” Lea said, blinking.

“You really came here because you have to go somewhere if you didn’t know this Circus owned a real Mermaid!”

“Yeah. But people believe this?”

“Not all,” she replied. “But there are so many others people willing to buy my scales. Or the water of my tank!”

“No way?!”

“Yes way!”

They both laughed.

Lea moved his hands and showed his palm to the young lady. He could see the tail move under the Lights around and he brought even more gleam. Fire came from his skin in a perfect ball that turned in big flame, trying to reach the top of the Circus tent.

“You’re doing fire?!” she said.

“Yeah!”

“That’s awesome!”

“It is!!”

Well, honestly, that made him a freak and, once he had stopped to impress people, he was just a Monster. And he didn’t even really impress people. They all believed he was using fire coming from somewhere else. He was just an artist like the other. With the disadvantage to receive the hate every Beast could receive…

It was stupid but, somewhat, he was happy to have meet her. To have someone he could share this experience with. She didn’t even received a spectacle, just has to be there, at the mercy of the crowd. And he already saw child with aquarium: obviously she would have to deal with people knocking that window all the time.

It turned out that Kairi slept only in water. She went to go “in bed” when Lea discovered her. So, after a bit of discussion, he let her and just walked back to his trailer.

It was stupid, maybe, but the fact he had found a friend gave him a feeling to be at home… He still would have to do a lot of work but he could have his place here! He had found someone. Someone as special as him!

As he passed in front of a trailer, he heard sounds. Groans, moans, breath and heavy sighs. He blushed a bit, not that surprised. At Radiant Garden, there was some couple too and you could hear them too. Like that, you could see the trailer quite harshly. He didn’t paid more attention and walked to his own trailer, planning to sleep.

He was twenty or thirty paces away when he heard the voice of the Ringmaster, making him stupidly turn his head.

“Stay,” Xemnas had said.

“I can’t stay. Demyx needs me.”

“He doesn’t need you.”

“Sir… I really can’t stay.”

“I want you to stay.”

Lea walked on the side, frowning. Being a Traveler Performer, being a Circus Artist for so long, it was just normal to him to rely on his Ringmaster, hence why he turned, but this… this he didn’t like it: the conversation turned weird.

“You’re mine…” Xemnas’ voice came out.

“I’m all yours, Sir,” Saïx replied. “ Now and ever. However… I can’t stay. Please, Sir…”

“When will you stay?”

A silence.

“One day…”

“One day, I won’t leave you the choice, Saïx.”

Silence again.

And then, the sound of the door closing echoed.

“You never leave me the choice…”

This time, Lea moved toward Saïx who was putting on a white large pullover over his chest and his jeans.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Saïx turned quickly to him, a cold and frightened look on his face. He stepped back and shook his head before leaving.

Lea didn’t know what this meant.

He watched him move away.

Not going to the trailers lot but somewhere else.

Lea was new here. He knew nothing. No one. But there… he felt something. He felt a sadness coming through him and he did have heard their conversation, could grab a part of the situation.

Maybe this was bad.

Certainly?

He hated himself but he tried to find him. What he had heard? It was bad! Really bad! Saïx maybe needed to talk? Maybe he had badly understand something and everything will be eased when they’ll talk. If Saïx accepted to talk with him because he looked like he didn’t want to talk with him…

But he was worried.

Really worried.

He went at the place he saw Saïx leaving away and walking, he just came out from the lot of trailers. He could think he was on the bad path but he also had the feeling he wasn’t so wrong… He continued to walk until he noticed the man standing next a lake which reverberated the big Moon in the black mirror formed with the calm water…

Lea could have leave, let him there because he was doing nothing wrong, just watching the water.

But…

“You didn’t try to catch you up.”

Saïx jumped once again and turned his head toward him. This time, his eyes were animated with rage. Maybe because tears were rolling along his cheeks. And when the man hugged himself, Lea could read disgust.

Toward him?

For himself?

“Who are you?” Saïx asked.

“Name’s Lea. I’m com…”

“I was there when you introduced yourself. Why are you here? Why are you losing your time?”

Lea couldn’t reply. Maybe it was because he saw his sadness and was willing to do something? He didn’t want to let him alone, suffering. Especially because the two times he truly had seen him, he only seemed to be draped by sadness and horror. It was a lot.

“I don’t have many things to do. I thought… you could wanna talk?”

“Talk? With you?”

Lea looked around him and scratched his nape.

“I don’t see anyone else? Unless you want to talk with the squirrel? Look at those!”

The guy moved his hands to show the fireflies dancing around.

“They aren’t squirrels,” Saïx replied.

“Nooo, but I think they sleep?”

“Probably, yes.”

“And the fireflies are beautiful… The mosquitos will be less fun, though… But if you look correctly, you may see cool animals!”

“Like snakes, camels, elephants and lions? For example?” he asked, hugging himself a bit more.

“Uh… you win!” Lea laughed.

“You said you came from Radiant Garden Circus?”

“Yeah! I talked a bit with Kairi and… that’s the reason the boss accepted me, right? The boss.”

Saïx nodded. “Xemnas has a special relationship with them.”

“You’re coming from there too?” Lea asked, approaching him.

“Yes.”

“May I ask what happened? Why did you…”

“Xemnas bought me.”

Lea remembered that was the same thing for Kairi. He watched as Saïx sat on the edge of the lake, arranging his pullover. But a shoulder keep showing and he hugged himself even more if it was possible.

So, Lea approached him. He had a yellow scarf around his neck so he just untied it and laid it softly on Saïx’s shoulders. The acrobat was surprised one second then calmed down and grabbed a side of the fabric.

“Thank you.”

“Can I sit?”

“Yes… The square is for everyone,” Saïx replied.

Lea sat next to him.

“So… why did you not catch yourself?”

“Can we talk about something else?” Saïx asked. He frowned slightly. “I’m Isa.”

“I thought you were called Saïx?”

But now, he remembered that the young man had called him ‘Isa’ too when he was so worry for him.

“That’s the name Xemnas gave me. He adds an X in the things he owns. It’s my artist name, in a way.”

“’kay, Isa. And the young man? The one afraid for ya?”

“He’s my little brother. Demyx.”

Lea frowned.

“It’s his real name,” Isa said. “He’s just an assistant. He loves to play music. However he doesn’t participate at the different spectacles.”

Lea was almost sure he had heard him mumble ‘it’s better like that’.

“I see.”

Isa closed a bit more his fingers around the yellow fabric.

“You’re thinking I’m an awful person, am I right?”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t catch myself. I wanted to fall on the floor in front of thousands people, in front of my dear little brother…”

Lea didn’t say ‘I though we wouldn’t talk about it’ because he was actually happy they have this discussion. Happy Isa could free the weight on his Heart…

“I don’t think you’re an awful person. I’m rather worried on why. The crowd, I can understand. You don’t care. But you seem to really like your little brother. When I hear your voice when you talk about him… I can tell you truly care for him…”

“I do. He’s the most important. I know… I know I shouldn’t have to do but when I was at the top…” Isa looked to the Moon in the sky. “When I was flying… There was nothing else. Nothing. And I fell. There was nothing too. I wanted…”

“To fly forever, right?”

Isa nodded.

“You don’t have to support that.”

“I have to,” Isa replied.

“No!”

“I’m his belonging!”

“And so it’s that, he made you believe you were an object?” Lea asked, bitter.

“What do you think I’m?” Isa replied. “He bought me. The only thing I was allowed to do was begging for my brother to be with me. I’m his belonging.”

“I think you know it’s wrong. I heard you. You talked back to him!”

“Did you heard when he said, one day, I will have to stay? One day, I will…” He closed his eyes. “One day, I will be so broken I will not be able to talk back. Today, I was able to do it because…”

Isa didn’t continue to talk, his eyes looking the reflect of the Moon in the lake. Lea could see in his eyes the desire to just jump in this Moon. Disappear. Fly forever…

Lea moved his hands and fire created, a bird appearing in it.

Isa couldn’t help but move back. Then, he blinked, looking the fire. Lea only watched him, the face slightly lighten by the flames, giving an orange color to his whole face, coming dancing in his hairs.

“How are you doing this?”

“I always have been able to do it,” he said. “I guess I’m a kind of Monster?” Lea laughed.

He breathed out on the bird that flew and turned around Isa’s head. The acrobat looked it, moving his face to follow the movement.

“This is not the oeuvre of a Monster. This is so beautiful.”

He moved his fingers and brushed the flames. He moved them back because of the burning feeling but not seeming annoyed at all.

“Thank you, Isa…”

“You want to do pyrokinesis show?”

“Yes!”

Lea caught back the bird and approached his hand from Isa. He didn’t touch him though.

“Can I?”

Isa nodded, still gripping the scarf with one hand. He couldn’t help but smile when the bird came in his palm. It was warm but nothing disturbing. It was really sweet, comforting, to be honest…

Lea stared again the face slightly warmed, painted with warm orange and red… He was so beautiful. He could understand Xemnas had wanted him but… seeing him with a slight smile, he wished it could live forever.

“I wish I can let you have it. But… I’m afraid you’d burn the whole Circus.”

“Yes,” Isa laughed softly. “Thank you, however.”

Lea watched him, his Heart beating fast.

“You have a pretty laugh,” he whispered.

“Hm?” Isa said, looking toward him.

Lea hesitated. He didn’t want to oppress him. With the whole situation, frightening him with unsolicited compliment was easy to happen. And he wanted to avoid it so much…

“You have a pretty laugh.”

“Thank you.”

Isa stared the bird and moved his fingers so he could caress it.

“And thank you for the talk. I… I needed it.”

“It’s a pleasure. If you need, come anytime. I know… I know you don’t know me but…”

“I believe it’s because I don’t know you it was easier… Here, I know some people since ten years. It’s hard to become weak at their eyes.”

“To be fair, when I saw you, you looked like a cold untouchable man. Like…” Lea scratched his head.

Isa smirked, passing his fingers under the fiery beak.

“A perfect doll?”

“Yes…”

“That’s pretty much what I have to be?”

“What do you want to be?”

Isa unfolded his legs and his feet brushed the surface of the lake. Tiny circles appeared and came to disturb the Moon reflecting inside.

“I want…” Isa let out a sad laugh. “I don’t know.”

“You have time?”

“I’m twenty-seven years old.”

“You’ve time.” Lea bent slightly toward him. “I don’t push you but really, if you need to talk, just come… I’ll be a listening ear. My shoulders are there for you. And my hand.”

Isa lean on him and kissed his cheek softly.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…” Lea smiled.

#Akusai #Leaisa #Circus AU

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spnxmarvel-fanfic · 5 years

Text

Fairytale!Destiel AU : Chapter Seven

Supernatural or Marvel

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel (Destiel)

Warnings: talking about the sexualities

Words: 1695

Description: Some things become clearer for Dean

Important A/N: this is a very important chapter. not necessarily to the fic, but to everyone finding out who they are. please be aware that i have not and will not experience all the different sexualities and gender identities, and this is just my best interpretation of them. I have also talked with a few friends about how they feel as a *blank* to help, and their experience may be different to others. thank you and I hope you enjoy the chapter.

chapters one, two, three, four, five, six

ao3

“What?!” Dean jumped up from the log, a look of confusion on his face. “I thought you were gay!”

Castiel raised an eyebrow. “Well, when you put it that way…”

The two boys had been discussing an all-female band that had recently visited the kingdom, which Castiel had managed to sneak Dean a ticket too. Away from him, of course.

But Dean had mentioned how ’hot’ the lead singer was, and Castiel dreamily agreed.

“But, I thought I- if you’re straight then how do you-” Dean stumbled, taking a step back on instinct.

Shaking his head and chuckling to himself, Castiel patted the spot beside him again, asking him to sit down. He waited until Dean had hesitantly done so before talking.

“Less, gay, more Asexual Panromantic,” Castiel smiled sweetly. This was a big step for them really, because despite knowing about how much they loved each other, neither were exactly ready for any kind of relationship.

“I’m going to assume that you’re not gay either?” Castiel teased, wondering how much the hunter actually knew about his sexuality.

“Those are some mighty big words,” Dean laughed nervously. “Well, I’ve never called myself gay. I mean, I like girls. But then there’s you, Cas,”

Castiel took in a sharp breath.

“You could be Heteroflexible, or uh, Heterosexual Demiromantic? Or-”

“Whoah whoah whoah, I don’t understand any of that,” Dean recoiled slightly. He’d heard of Heterosexual, but the others?

“Bisexual” Castiel finished

“Bi- bi what?” Dean forgot about his past confusion. There was something about that word.

“If you’re bisexual, you like men and women. ‘Bi’, as in two” Castiel looked over at Dean’s face, sliding a bit closer to him.

“Oh,” Dean said quietly, trying to let it sink in. It has a name. “ So, that’s what you think I am?”

“Dean, no one can tell you what you are. Experiment with the names. Find what makes you feel comfortable. You don’t have to know now. You could even call yourself Queer, if you can’t find a comfortable label, or if you don’t want a label at all,” Castiel comforted Dean, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Dean took in a big gulp. “So is your dad uh, is he cool with all that? With your aces- uh, and pans?”

Chuckling, Castiel continued. “Oh yeah, he’s big on letting us be ourselves. To a degree, of course. Michael, who you’ve met, is actually genderfluid,” Castiel almost kept going, but he saw Dean’s confused face.

“Genderfluid is like… I can’t exactly do it justice explaining it, because I have never experienced it. It’s where someone sometimes feels comfortable in their body, being a girl for example, but other days they can’t stand their body, because that day they’re a boy. Then other days they might be both. Or neither,”

“That’s a thing?” Dean was struggling to get his father's words out of his head.

“Don’t be insensitive Dean.”

“I’m sorry, sorry,” Dean hung his head. Goddamn John and his-

“I’m sure it's okay, I guess this all new for you,” Castiel noticed his shame and quickly tried to fix his problem. And then he continued.

“Raphael, the third oldest, is transgender. He didn’t feel comfortable in the body he was born in, so he got some help from Chuck and my brothers to be a man. Chuck is bisexual as well actually,” Castiel added, nudging Dean.

“Bisexual,” Dean said, but his mind was far away. He was trying it out, seeing how it felt. “I’m- I’m Bi,”

“Like I said Dean, you don’t-”

“No!” Dean jumped up, from excitement this time. “No I mean- I mean it all makes sense now!” he turned to face Castiel, a look of pure joy across his face.

“Everything I’ve felt, all of these things and feelings that I’ve just dismissed, it all makes sense now. I- I can’t thank you enough, Cas,” Dean sat down again, sunbeams practically shining from his face, the happiest he’s been in years.

Looking at him with loving eyes, Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s hand, and his eyes widened in shock. Fearing that he was taking it too far, he went to take his hand away, but he found another hand on top of his. He looked up to see Dean giving Castiel the same look.

“Could you please explain what Asexual Panromantic means?” Dean shyly said in a small voice, earning another kind smile.

“Asexual means I don’t feel sexual attraction. I don’t want sex,” Castiel spoke a little nervously.

“What? No sex?” Dean tilted his head slightly, less accusing and more curious.

“Nope. I just don’t. If you wanted some, too bad,” Castiel forced a laugh out, trying to hide years of pain behind his eyes. Yes, he came from a supportive family. Doesn’t mean he understood it himself.

“I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to,” Dean looked Castiel in the eyes, as serious as he could get, earning a nod and smile from the prince. “Now, tell me. You’re romantically attracted to kitchen appliances?”

“No,” Castiel laughed, shaking his head. “No. It means I could be romantically in love with anyone. Any gender, binary or non-binary,” he explained after letting himself cool down from laughing.

“But isn’t that-”

“Bisexual? Well, technically. Just because you’re Bi doesn’t mean you can’t love non-binary people. Some people feel more comfortable with the Pansexual label, rather than Bisexual,” Castiel could see this going over Dean’s head, but the boy was trying. That counted for everything.

“And non-binary is…” Dean trailed off, hoping Castiel would take the hint.

“People who don’t feel comfortable as a guy or a girl. They might be neither, both, or something completely different. There are also many cultures that don’t have just two genders, but that's a story for another day,” Castiel explained quickly. It was getting late, and he was tired. The constant worrying that his father would find out about everything was really getting to him. But once Castiel was eighteen, he and Dean would run off together. They’d already talked about it and agreed. The small steps they’d taken meant to world to them, and they never wanted to let it go.

Castiel hadn’t even realised they’d been silent for a few minutes, staring off at a small gap in the trees, when a shooting star flew by. Turning to Dean, he expected him to still be looking at the sky so he could say ‘make a wish’, but the hunter was already smiling at him.

“Cas, can I please kiss you?” Dean asked, and Castiel’s whole world stopped spinning. His breath hitched. His heart skipped a beat.

Unable to find words, he nods and watched as Dean bites his lip, staring as Castiel’s. Dean cupped Castiel’s head with one hand and leaned in. As they made connection, their eyes closed on instinct.

And it was every bit of perfect Castiel had hoped for. Dean’s lips, oh, his lips were so soft, were gentle with Castiel, and he was melting. Melting into the kiss and into Dean’s arms.

Both soon needed to break for air, and they rested their foreheads against one another. Castiel was suddenly conscious about his constantly chapped lips. But ultimately, the kiss was at the front of his mind.

“That was…” Castiel started, but Dean finished for him.

“Awesome,” Dean looked into Castiel’s eyes with a smile.

He smiled back at the hunter. At his hunter. And then they kissed again.

Dean walked into his house with the biggest grin on his face. As expected, his mother was in her room, most likely sewing. Grandpa Sam was snoozing in his chair, and Sam was- Sam? What was Sam doing at home? Sitting at the bench! There’s no way he’s getting away with lying about the biggest smile on his face ever.

“Dean! I’ve been waiting for you!”

“Uh, hiya Sammy,” Dean had stopped in his tracks, holding an empty hunting bag, failing at his attempts to mask his smile.

“What's got you beaming like a mini sun?” Sam teased, getting up from the bench, where he had been reading his book. “Also, why are you so late?”

“I could ask you why you’re so early,” Dean dropped his bag on the ground and held his arms out for a hug. Dean held his little brother tight.

“Not unless you tell me who put that massive grin on your face!” Sam argued.

SIghing, Dean walked to the bench and leaned on it, and Sam followed so he was facing his brother. “Whose home right now? Dad is-”

“Dad’s out like always. Why-”

“What would you say, Sammy, if I told you I was in love?” Dean spat out, cutting his brother off.

“Why would I care Dean? Like sure, that’s great. But-” Sam was getting a bit sick of the cutting off.

“With a guy,” Dean finished, searching his brother’s eyes for a reaction. A response. Anything.

Sam furrowed his brow for the shortest second, before turning nonchalant again. “So? Again. Do I care?” he sighed, rolling his eyes and grabbing his book again.

“You don’t mind me being… you know, Bi?” Dean realised that he’d probably have to explain everything to Sam and-

“Again Dean, don’t care. I’m Bi too,” Sam answered, not looking up from his book as he took a spot on the couch. The older Winchester’s mouth went slack.

Due to the lack of comebacks, or any noise at all, Sam looked up to Dean and laughed. “Get over here! Are you going to tell me about this guy or not?”

Smiling as he regained muscle control to walk to Sam, Dean was trying to think of a way to explain the love of his life to his little brother, but it hit him.

Just start at the start, like all good fairy tales.

“Well…”

“Son, we need to talk,” Chuck said the minute Castiel stepped foot in the room. He had only just arrived back at his bedroom door when some of his father’s most trusted men came to escort him to the king’s chambers. A very rare event indeed.

Castiel gulped.

tags: @tardisheart134 @niteowlangel @asociopathandadoctor @waitwhyami @notfunnydean @leatherandapplepies @cross-roads-blues @astheryart @winchestered-since-1983 @sp0okyweek

Send me a message in my ask box or PM’s if you want to get tagged

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squisherific · 6 years

Text

She Knows

Summary: My contribution to Gruvia week. Gray returns from the hundred year quest only to be met with criticism about his answer to Juvia. Gray’s POV. Rated: K+ Status: One Shot/Complete.

She Knows

Gray had promised to give Juvia an answer. And he thought he had. But apparently, and according to everyone else, he was wrong.

“You’re MINE?! That’s what you said?!” Gajeel guffawed, nearly choking on his beer.

“It wasn’t just that!” Gray said defensively, as he gestured hurriedly to the left side of his torso, which, for once, was covered with a navy blue t-shirt, obscuring the massive scar underneath. “Look, I have a hole in my body, ok. I think that speaks for itself.” He was of course referencing when he had stabbed himself in order to prevent himself from killing Juvia while they were both being controlled by Invel’s magic.

“Big deal, everyone has holes in their body. I was born with most of mine,” Natsu said, unimpressed.

Gray glowered at him. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“I’m just saying,” Loke began, his voice softening slightly in amusement, “shouldn’t you have been a bit more… direct?”

“Juvia got it, alright? She understood. So, I really don’t care what any of you think.”

Loke gave Gray a pitying look, which Gray did not appreciate at all.

“It doesn’t matter if she got it. Juvia actually used the word “love” when she confessed to you, didn’t she?”

Gray looked away embarrassedly, while giving a grudging nod of confirmation.

“Even the word scares you,” Gajeel laughed again.

“I’m not scared, idiot,” he growled at Gajeel, who grinned unperturbed.

“I just don’t see what the big deal is in saying it. If we both know what the other is feeling, isn’t that what matters?”

“No,” they all chorused in agreement.

Gray rolled his eyes. “Well, thankfully, none of this is any of your business, so you can take your advice and shove it where the sun don’t shine. I’ve got better things to do than to listen to you morons. I’m outta here.”

Gray could still hear the trio’s mocking laughter as he made his way out of the guild. How word had gotten out about exactly what Gray had told Juvia that night at Lucy’s party Gray still wasn’t quite aware. But it had, and he was already sufficiently annoyed by it.

It’s not like his words were the most interesting bit of gossip around. For example, Gajeel and Levy had announced that they were actually expecting a child. But apparently the excitement of that had died down during the two weeks Gray and the rest of team Natsu were out on that hundred year quest. So, ever since their return, news of Gray’s risqué declaration had spread like wildfire, and it was all people were talking about. The most likely suspect to have outed the conversation was Juvia herself, but it was unlike Juvia to relay such delicate information, so Gray felt like there was another source.

In any case, it wasn’t how people had found out, but the keen interest that infuriated Gray the most. It was common knowledge that he and Juvia had essentially been together since the war had ended. Sure, there were no big announcements, or any major changes between the couple beyond frequently going out together on more than just missions, and that one wild night after Lucy’s book party, which, thankfully the guild had not yet heard about. But, most people knew what had happened between he and Juvia during their battle against Invel, and were well aware of the unspoken shift in their relationship since then. So, why would some simple words that merely gave some weight to that shift be such a topic of fascination to everyone?

And more importantly, and what was worrying Gray the most, was, beyond all the jokes, could it be that the guys were right? Did Juvia deserve something more from him?

“Gray-sama!”

Gray had been walking along through the streets of Magnolia in such dour contemplation that he had been carried to his and Juvia’s arranged meeting point in the market square before he had quite realized where he was. He could see the bluenette waiving at him, a big, floppy, white hat on, shielding her porcelain complexion from the sun, as she beamed brightly at his approach.

“Sorry, am I late?”

“Right on time, Gray-sama!”

“Good,” he felt a bit of the heaviness and anxiety lift from his heart as she smiled at him. “Should we go?”

“Yes!”

They walked side by side in silence for several minutes. When Juvia had initially entwined her arm in Gray’s he had barely noticed. The gesture had become so second nature to them both at that point, that it would have felt odder if she hadn’t done it.

“Is something wrong, Gray-sama?”

“Huh? No, why?”

“Well… Gray-sama had such a terrible frown on his face before he reached Juvia,” she said, and Gray could see she was studying him intently.

“Oh, that… was nothing. Really,” he added reassuringly.

“Alright, if Gray-sama says so.”

But Gray could tell from Juvia’s tone of voice and expression that she didn’t really believe him. He knew she wouldn’t press him on it, though, because she understood how he was. And usually he was grateful for that. However, this time a part of him almost wished she would pry.

That’s when Gray finally noticed the picnic basket Juvia was carrying in her other hand. That’s right. They were going to have a picnic in the park. He had been so distracted he had forgotten exactly what their plans had been.

To take his mind off his troubles, he asked, “what are we eating for lunch anyway?”

“Caramade franks,” and he didn’t even have to look at her to know she was grinning.

“That’s nostalgic.”

“Juvia thinks so, too.”

“I hope you’re not as messy eating them this time as you were the last time,” he teased.

“If Juvia is, it is merely because Gray-sama didn’t teach Juvia how to do it properly.”

Gray laughed. “I guess I’ll just have to give you another lesson then.”

“Juvia would like that very much, Gray-sama,” and she beamed earnestly up at him again.

His heart lightened some more.

As it was a Saturday afternoon the park was relatively busy. But Gray and Juvia were lucky enough to find a shady spot to set out a blanket under a sakura tree. They ate lunch, and made small talk, discussing some of the jobs they might take together soon, and even ventured into a bit of gossip themselves now that Jellal, Meredy and the Oracion Seis had been pardoned. They speculated on Erza’s relationship for a bit, and then the conversation shifted to whether something was going on between Lyon and Meredy. Gray watched fondly as Juvia very excitedly theorized about their good friends, and if they should set them up on a date.

“Juvia just thinks they would be so good together. Juvia knows Meredy is so lonely since Ultear-san disappeared, and with Jellal-san surely spending more time with Erza-san now, it would be nice if Meredy had someone she could rely on, too. And Lyon-sama is such a wonderful man-“

“You think that idiot is wonderful?” Gray questioned partly in annoyance, and partly in jest.

“Well yes!” she said, without thinking, but then quickly added at the look on Gray’s face, “But Juvia’s heart belongs only to Gray-sama! It’s Gray-sama that Juvia truly loves!” she assured him emphatically.

Loves. It tumbled from her lips so easily that it made him feel ashamed.

“Gray-sama?” And she sounded worried again.

He must have looked exactly as he felt, because she took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“There is something wrong,” and this time it was a statement, not a question. “Lyon-sama isn’t-“

“It’s not Lyon,” he looked seriously into her eyes, and he knew that this was worrying her more. But, he wanted her to understand this time. He owed her something, and he had made her wait long enough.

“Look, I know I don’t always say and do everything I should. It’s not because I don’t feel the same way as you do. I just- it’s just… I’m not good at this,” and he was floundering again, and it was confusing her, but he tried to carry on.

“I promised you I’d give you an answer.”

Juvia’s look of concern turned immediately compassionate at Gray’s words, and surprisingly she put up a finger to Gray’s lips to silence him.

“And Gray-sama has done so…” she said gently, “many, many times now,” and she took her hand away from his mouth to press her palm tenderly against his now naked torso. When he had stripped it off, Gray didn’t know, but Juvia’s hand now rested on his most prominent scar, which stood out glaringly on his skin.

“Yeah, but you deserve to hear the words,” he insisted.

“Juvia is Gray-sama’s, is she not?” she said, almost proudly.

Gray scratched his head embarrassedly at the reminder of what he had said a few weeks ago.

“Well… yeah.”

“And Gray-sama is also Juvia’s?”

“Eh?”

“Isn’t he?” She pressed.

“…Yes.”

“Then, what else does Juvia need?” and she smiled again. Confidently. Contentedly.

Just as he had told the guys earlier that day, Juvia knew. Of course she knew. How could she not know?

She’d known since the night of the party. She’d known since he had rampaged in grief at having thought he lost her. She’d known since they sacrificed themselves for each other in front of Invel. She’d known since he had told her he had wanted to protect her. She’d known since he promised her that answer on that bridge. She’d known since they had lived together for six whole months. She’d known since he thanked her at his parents grave and embraced her in tears.

She’d known that she loved him, and that he loved her. And if you love each other, it doesn’t always need to be said. It just is.

So, he didn’t say anything. Instead he kissed her. Right there. Under the tree. In the park. Surrounded by laughing kids, elderly couples, jogging singles, and happy families. Everyone could see them, but nobody bothered to look, because there was nothing odd to see. It was just two people in love.

Their lips separated hesitantly, already missing when they were together. Gray traced his hand from Juvia’s soft cheek into her wavy hair, the floppy hat long since abandoned on the shadow-strewn blanket courtesy of the above canopy of sakura blossoms.

Juvia looked down shyly.

“What is it?” Gray asked, noticing the nervous smile playing on her lips.

“Well… the truth is, Juvia actually had something she, too, wanted to say to Gray-sama.”

Gray raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Juvia seemed to deliberate for a moment, as if trying to find just the right way to phrase her announcement.

“That night before Gray-sama left on the hundred year quest, it seems that our passionate goodbye… created another life,” and Juvia’s hand moved to gently rest on her belly.

Gray stared blankly, his mouth opening wider as the silent seconds passed by.

“Oh,” he breathed.

He could think of nothing else to say at that point.

Things had moved slowly between the two of them since the war had ended. Perhaps too slowly now that Gray really thought about it. And that night after the party was the first time Gray had really let his emotions rather than his head lead the way with Juvia. He hadn’t regretted a single moment of their night together. It had been awkward, but exciting - nerve-wracking, but also exhilarating. And while Gray and Juvia were both inexperienced, things seemed to fall into place quite naturally. It was a wonderful night. But having left on the hundred year quest the very next day, Gray hadn’t really had time to process the implications, let alone ramifications of this new step in their relationship. Now, however, he was being forced to do just that at lightening speed.

Thus, it was the second time that day that Gray had found himself lost in his own thoughts, though this time it was out of shock more than anything else. And it was only at Juvia placing a soft kiss against his cheek that he was able to pull himself out of his reverie enough to finally register what he was truly feeling.

As he had demonstrated multiple times in his life, Gray was never much for words. He preferred showing rather than telling someone how he felt, and that was nearly always true when it came to Juvia, for his strongest feelings always seemed to revolve around her, and thus were the hardest to properly convey. But, at this turn of events, Gray knew his and Juvia’s relationship would take an even sharper upswing in the weeks and months that followed. And Gray immediately began to realize that telling the soon-to-be mother of his child how much he loved her was a much easier thing to do.

So, that’s what he did.

The End

A/N: I’d say this is a combo of the prompts promise and especially you’re mine. But I decided to post this today because I might make another small additional something later in the week.

I really wanted to address Gray’s answer in this fic because I know people were not 100% happy with what we got for Gruvia/wanted something more in the final chapter. Not to mention how long we’d been waiting for Gray to properly talk to Juvia. But, as this fic states, I think Mashima showed Juvia already knowing Gray’s answer a long time ago. ^^

Anyway, I hope those reading enjoyed it. ^^ And, as always, reviews are greatly appreciated. <3

#gruvia #gruvia week #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #fairy tail

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honeylikewords · 6 years

Note

the baby asks you have been answering are so cute!! so i have to ask-- what do you think t'challa and his queen are like preparing to welcome a little panther to their kingdom?

Oh, how wonderful! I’m excited to do more T’Challa content, and hopefully I do right by him and his canon!

(Again, I refer to my original disclaimer on my first T’Challa post, wherein I state that while I am white and cannot, in any way, speak to the black experience, I want my Black Panther content to be explicity inclusive of black readers, who are usually negelected in the fic community. I hope my work pays its dues to the important and necessary presence of black readers and creators, and that they feel represented here! I’m also dedicated to doing my research and doing it well, so if there are any inaccuracies portrayed here, absolutely tell me and I’ll work on amending them.)

So, without further ado, here we go!

I researched birth rituals from a number of the tribes that contributed to the design and culture of Wakanda. The two that stood out the most were the Zulu tribe and the Himba tribe, who both have very strong ritual histories for birth culture.

For the Zulu people, especially Zulu traditionalists, no marriage is truly permanent until a child is born. While Wakanda has moved into a more progressive understanding of marriage, one that includes validation that, yes, a marriage is permanent, binding, and important, even without the prescence of children as a possibility, birth and childbearing are still seen as noble and important tasks, and, if willingly carried out, should be respected.

Certainly, for the royal family, there is an expectation to carry on the line. There is no immediate pressure, necessarily-- it’s not as if Queen Ramonda was breathing down T’Challa’s neck to have children-- but it is an honor to uphold the royal lineage, and an honor that T’Challa does not take lightly. He’s known ever since he was a child that it would be his responsibility to take the throne and, yes, to one day pass it down to a child of his own, should fate be permitting.

So, yes, even before he was married, he made it very clear to his beloved that he anticipated children in his future, and wanted to be sure that she anticipated that, too. He understood if she didn’t want that for herself, or couldn’t, for whatever reason, and was ready to handle whatever happened next, for better or worse. But he was immensely pleased (and secretly giddy) that she, too, wanted children, and was ready for that stage to come in their future together.

Once married, T’Challa became very, very excited for the prospect of children. He may seem calm and collected, and that’s because, in many ways, he is: through years of practice and a naturally level head for leadership, T’Challa can keep himself in check and in line. But every time he thought about his child, the offspring of his love to a woman who fills his heart with overflowing joy, he would start smiling, even in the most serious of situations.

Sometimes Okoye would catch T’Challa staring wistfully out a window at the Wakandan skyline and wave her hand in front of his face, breaking the reverie.

“My king? Is all well?”

“Mhm, yes,” he’d mumble dreamily. “I was just thinking about... little socks.”

“...Little socks?”

“Yes, you know,” T’Challa would say. “As in for babies. I wonder if M’Baku has any good seamstresses, what with his having so many children and being in the cold climates...”

He gets daydreamy about the baby. It’s just a fact of life.

Similarly, it’s also a fact that in the Himba tribe, there is a belief that a person’s life does not start on the day they are born, nor when they are conceived, but when they are dreamed up inside their mother’s mind.

The Himba believe that once a woman begins to want to have a child, she should go away from her village and sit under a tree, meditating until she can hear “the song of her child”. After that, she can return to the village to go and conceive her child, though the child is already made real in her mind. It’s a truly beautiful sentiment, and one that is surely still intact in Wakandan culture.

For T’Challa’s wife, she began to think about having a child pretty early. Now, it wasn’t a truly settled idea, but more of a sudden burst of thought, like a little bubble popping, especially in the months before the wedding. “One day, you’ll be having a baby with him,” her mind would say. “One day, perhaps very soon.”

She didn’t let the thoughts solidify too quickly, since there was so much to deal with, but after a while, she began to seriously ruminate on the idea. And once that rumination took place, she knew that the spiritual conception was already beginning, according to tradition and to her own heart.

She probably went to talk to Queen Ramonda in private about the feelings, and about how Ramonda had handled the thoughts when it was her time. Ramonda was very supportive and warm, encouraging her to take the time to go and meditate, to listen for the song of her soon to be child, should all forces work in their favor.

So she did. She took a day away from the royal duties to go and rest in a field alone, sitting under a broad tree and watching the grassy plains before her rustle in the wind. She waited and quieted her mind, letting time roll past without concern. It took a while, a long while, of concentrating, then losing focus, then trying to concentrate again, and just when she was becoming frustrated with herself, she felt a wave of calm come over her.

And in the wind that whispered through the grass and the fronds of the tree up above, in the sounds all around her, the ones she observed in her silence, she could hear a melody forming.

That was the voice of her child, calling to her, telling her things would be alright, and that they’d be here to see her soon. They were beginning their journey from concept into conception.

When she came back to the palace, T’Challa found her and asked her where she’d been.

“The Dora said you’d gone out by yourself; no guard, no communication...” he mumbled, hands clasping her cheeks. “I was worried.”

“Don’t worry,” she said back as she pressed up to kiss his forehead. “I have some very, very good news.”

T’Challa tipped his head sideways like a curious kitten, making the confused but intrigued face his wife has learned to love, to giggle at.

“A little panther sang to me today,” she said, taking his hand.

It took him a moment to understand, to put together the solitude, the quiet, the singing... and then his face broke into a great, big, gap-toothed grin, the light inside of him beaming out and shining in his eyes, wonder surrounding him.

“Really, my love? You-- you’re ready? They sang?”

She nodded, and he gripped her waist, an unsuppressable laugh of joy bubbling out of him. Then he lifted her and spun her around, uncaring of what anyone else saw or thought.

“Our baby,” he breathed, glowing. “Our baby!”

“Our baby!,” she echoed back.

Both of them were overwhelmed and warmed to their cores by the moment, because there’s something indescribably beautiful about excitement for the future, and the promise of facing that future hand in hand with someone beloved. T’Challa was, quite frankly, moved to tears, thinking of his child’s spirit visiting his wife, telling her that it was time for them to come into the world.

When they were in private and able to be emotionally intimate, he expressed the depth of his joy and his tears came without shame, and she cried, too, both of them swept up in the love that they were able to experience together. Knowing that before them lay a lifetime spent together, but now with the inclusion of a new life, one made with their love, made with the reality of their union.

It’s a wonder beyond comprehension, and neither of them needed to explain away the feelings. They just lived them, experienced them, and let their hearts guide them where they needed to be: together.

In the following months, there’d be much preparation, gearing the kingdom up for the arrival of a new royal. There would be so much excitement in the kingdom, since the royal family is beloved and respected nearly universally in Wakanda! Even M’Baku would come and pay his respects, bringing gifts for the new baby.

“Hopefully this Udaku will be able to hold up in a fight,” he bellows, chuckling at his own joke, standing next to piles and piles of rich furs, handmade baby toys and ceremonial tools, and more gifts than is probably necessary. He just really wanted to show off what a good dad he is, and make a splash to show that none of the other gift-givers respect and honor T’Challa and the new baby as much as he does. That cheeky man.

Shuri is delighted, too, to start developing technology for the new Udaku baby. Not exactly smartphones or tablets for baby to play with, but something more useful, more constructive. Those arenas of vibranium sand that can form themselves into moving models could be revamped, Shuri imagines, perhaps as a changing and shifting play-pen for the baby... T’Challa insists that she not experiment on her nephew or niece, but she assures T’Challa that she wouldn’t be experimenting on the baby.

“Just experimenting with the baby,” she laughs. T’Challa finds it a little less funny, but still smiles. He knows she’ll care for that baby and protect them with her life (not that he’d ever allow harm to befall either of these, his prized people).

To come would be a great many celebrations; many of the tribal cultures use song and dance to greet and celebrate the arrival of a new baby, and so nearly every tribe in Wakanda would have a separate celebration to pay homage to the new royal-- for example, the border tribe might bring woven blankets made to honor royalty, like Basotho blankets. For the more religious cultural aspect, there would certainly be the praising and thanking of Bast for the gift of the baby, and praying for safe passage and protection during their lifetime.

But most importantly, there would be the gathering of family to bring this child into the world and to let them know how loved they are, how honored, how cared for. That they will be descended from kings and warriors, but also from parents who love one another and their child with all their hearts and souls.

So, in short, T’Challa and his queen would be the most loving parents in the world, and their preparations for the little panther’s arrival would, without a doubt, reflect that love.

(Here are some of the sources used to find historical and cultural information for this post. Here is an article about the Kamba tribe, one about the Zulu tribe, and the Himba tribe, and a list of some of the tribes referenced to and from in the film Black Panther!)

#this turned into more of a worldbuilding exercise in birth rituals in wakanda hshgkhg?#but i hope i still accomplished my main goals which were #1) to remain respectful to the original source material and cultures #2) to spread warmth and love through the writing #and 3) to spread BabyFever Joy!#anyway #messages #long post /#original #black panther #marvel #gif warning /#t'challa #t'challa udaku #baby talk #goddd this isn't even Half of the stuff i have in my BrainZone but i gotta trim the edges ghkhgkhg #Anonymous

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feynites · 6 years

Text

Howling For The Slain - Chapter 3

(submitted by @fantasysdrivingforce)

CHAPTER THREE

“I do not think that was wise.” Knowledge seeps back in from the Dreaming, like a serpent pulling itself from the ripples of a lake. It curls up, slithering up Salla’s arms and resting in a coil around her neck. “He was infuriated with you.”

“Good,” Salla growls lowly.

“I do not understand how that can be good,” says Knowledge.

Salla simply sighs and leans against the backing of pillows and a too-fashionable headboard. “It’ll make him think, and I want him to think.”

“But if he grows more curious, he will ask more and more of you,” Knowledge points out. “And Fen’Harel is known for getting his way. He is always two steps ahead of others, even when he was Pride.”

Her brows stitch together and she glances down to the three eyes peering up at her. “Pride?” she asks. The word sits sour on her tongue, the word that quickly settles sickly in her stomach.

Solas.

“Before he was Fen’Harel, he was Pride, and before that, a Spirit of Pride,” Knowledge explains. “And – oh, I’ve upset you and… and you knew someone by his name? Solas? Pride?”

Salla stills. Like Cole, this spirit can see more than what she lets on, more than what she wants it to know. And it isn’t helping.

“I… see,” it simpers, drooping down from her neck and coiling in the tangled sheets of the bed.

Shoulders drooping, she blinks wide and wipes the sleep from her eyes. “No, it’s – I’m sorry. It’s not -” She huffs. “It’s hard to explain, I’m sorry.” She offers a hand to the serpentine spirit, brushing fingers over the light that shimmers like scales but feels like small sparks of lightning that travel up her arm. “I knew a man that called himself ‘Solas’ and he… he…”

The spirit’s eyes glimmer. “He was your heart. The one who taught you how to change your shape. The black wolf, he – oh.” Seemingly bright with revelation, Knowledge snaps up, three sparkling eyes of pastel green staring into Salla’s own gold. “I understand now.”

It… understands? But she doesn’t know what exactly it understands.

Suddenly, it tightens its body around her wrist, tugging, the bright light of it igniting against her skin as it tries to usher her from the bed. “Come!” it beckons.

“Where?” Salla questions.

And the spirit beams. “A place of learning and knowledge. Come!”

With a disgruntled huff, she does. She allows the spirit to guide her out of her provided quarters, through quiet corridors and ramparts, up spiraling stairs until all she can smell is parchment and ink. It opens to a pathway and that, to a chamber that reaches high. An eternal sun seems to grip the light shimmering across the arching ceiling as books and papers fly from bookcases that have no end in sight.

“No, no, absolutely not.”

The air sours and Salla swallows a bite of bile that burns the back of her throat. When she glances away from the magical books, she comes face to face with an elf wearing Mythal’s vallaslin and a scowl twisting his lips down.

They turn their nose up and wave a hand dismissively. “This thing does not belong here,” it snuffs. “This is a place of learning, not meant for constructs. Take it somewhere else, Knowledge.”

But the spirit doesn’t budge; only coils tighter. “No,” it says defensively. “She wants to learn. This library is meant for all.”

“This library is meant for People,” snaps this bookkeeper. The atmosphere around them sharpens and chills. “It doesn’t have the permission to enter.”

But, wait –

“Yes, I do,” Salla rebuttals, and earns the ire of the bookkeeper’s glare. “Mythal and Fen’Harel gave me permission.”

But they puff up, like some proud, obnoxiously feathered bird. “I doubt that.”

Sleep may still haze her eyes, but Salla smirks and gracefully steps forward, like a predator eying prey caught in the throes of a trap. “But they did,” she says. “They offered me leave of the palace. To eat, drink, and learn. And this is a place of learning.” Salla tilts her head ever so slightly. “Are you really going to forbid me entry? Must I go to Lady Mythal and Lord Fen’Harel and explain that you’ve denied me the learning they’ve so graciously offered?”

The bookkeeper starts back and the aura about them softens with a spark of surprise.

Knowledge purrs against her arm, unusually pleased.

Finally, they straighten. “Very well,” they snap with a grimace. Their eyes track to Knowledge. “You will watch it and clean up after it if it makes a mess.”

Salla fights down the urge to hit this elf right across the face; she’s not a bloody hound who tears up furniture and belonging any chance it gets. But she may consider marking up their pretty face if they continue to hound her.

“Come.” Nonetheless, Knowledge pulls at her, beckoning her past rows of bookcases and tables until finally settling in a corner far off from most. “We will not be bothered here. I can help you learn in peace.” With a blink of bright eyes, it removes itself from Salla’s arm and spins through the air. “Let’s see, let’s see. Hmm, ah yes! Volumes of the great Clans, written works on spirits and memories, and – no, not that one – but yes, this will do, and – oh! Do you think you’ll need to record your findings to help you remember? I think that will be helpful and, hmm, I know a few more things that’ll do!” With a flutter, the spirit disappears like a ghost moving through walls, except this time it weaves in and out of bookcases.

Huge volumes of books sail through the air until they land gently, and neatly, upon their table – stacking high – only leaving room for rolls of blank parchment, inks, and quills that stuff the grasping limbs of Knowledge when it returns.

“This should be enough for today,” it deduces with a brisk nod before sinking down to the desk.

“Today?” Salla gapes. “I’m supposed to go over all of this today?”

“Yes,” confirms Knowledge. It tilts its head. “Is it too much? I can return a few if it is overwhelming.”

“I…” With a sigh, Salla slumps down into her seat, fingers thrumming against the sanded and polished marble and wood table. “We’ll see what we can get through. If we don’t get through everything” – and she highly doubts she will – “I’ll make sure to record the titles and locations of our current reading so we can come back later.”

Knowledge seems to accept this, for it nods and slithers around one blue-colored quill. “Excellent,” it beams. “Would you like to start with words or memories first?”

“I am… not sure the difference.”

Quickly, Knowledge shoves a book in front of her. “Words then!” And engraved in a heavy leather-bound cover is an aravel – or what looks like an aravel – similar, but not. And above it, the image of a dragon. “Recordings and tales from many of the early clans before Arlathan’s creation.”

Salla blinks. “Are we in Arlathan?” she asks.

But Knowledge tilts its head. “Why would you think that?” it asks. “No. We are in Mythal’s territory. Arlathan is a long way off on foot, and you were found on the cusp between Mythal’s territory and Fen’Harel’s. Now I am sure they’ll both be discussing terms of who will claim you.”

Claim her? “I am not property to be claimed,” says Salla, lips twisting until all she’s doing is scowling at the serpentine spirit.

“No, you are a person,” Knowledge agrees. “But every person bids their life and service to a member of the Evanuris. For example, a child born in an Evanuris’s territory will have their markings when they grow to be an adult.”

“And for those who are found?” Like her?

“It often depends on the territory, or the war. Since Mythal and Fen’Harel found you on the borders of both their territories, both have the rights to try and claim you. If you were found on other territories, same would go for that Evanuris,” Knowledge explains, but the information still sours in Salla’s mouth.

“So there’s absolutely no concept of freedom in this world, is there?” she bites out.

Knowledge blinks. “There is. The Evanuris take care of their subjects.”

“But everyone here is slaves, except for nine elves. Nine!” her words drip like venom. Escape one world and get thrown back into a society run by slave-owning tyrant mage-kings-gods. Absentmindedly, her fingers run over her temple and cheeks and chin, where her vallaslin once ran in rivets of gold but now is bare from markings – except for her scars. “What happens if I refuse to be claimed?”

Knowledge shimmers, curling a tendril of itself around her hand. “Don’t,” it says, and the chill that pricks at her skin makes her shiver.

“Hypothetically,” Salla attempts. “Knowledge, just tell me.”

And the spirit droops. “They will kill you, or sacrifice what power is in you and take it for themselves, or…” the spirit pauses.

“Or?”

“Imprison you,” it says. “Do not refuse to be claimed. That is a fate worse than sacrifice. I do not wish to see you shattered. Or killed. Whichever is the correct term for destroying a living, knowing person.”

Salla sits in silence, but she lets the spirit slither up her shoulders and rest around her shoulders. Only when the rays of a rising sun filter in through opened balconies around this opened library chamber does she run her hands over the books again and flip one open to the information inside.

And the days continue like that; sit in the library and read with Knowledge, absorbing and taking note of what information is useful for her to know. When the sun sets, but the magical sun in the ceiling still shines, Salla and Knowledge finish. She records what books she wants to go through next, marking their pages and titles on her own spare parchments, while the spirit returns the books to their appropriate places. Then, sneaking in the dining hall for meals and disappearing to a shadowy spot in a garden to eat.

A month passes like that, and she seeks the company of spirits more than she does the people who do not even consider her a person. The Spirit of Compassion returns, with others following at the ribbons of its warm magic. There’s a Spirit of Sorrow and a Spirit of Rage, and they hover around her as she eats in her silence.

“We could, you know,” the Spirit of Rage once said to her.

Do what?

“End him,” it clarifies.

But then Sorrow shimmers and hovers close, peering at them with drooping eyes and limbs. “She doesn’t want to end him, though. It pains her to think of it. He isn’t him.”

“But she’s full of anger,” claims Rage, blooming with a cold heat that thrums on her skin. “It can fester and grow and explode. What’s one dead wolf to save a world from his teeth?”

Ah. That.

Salla sighs. “There’s more to it than that, Rage,” she says.

“Is there, though?” the spirit asks. “All it takes is one carefully shot arrow, or one clean, twisted blade.” The air shimmers and it draws a weapon, composed of its being – with a sheen like that of a beautifully forged iron weapon, woven with bluish metals and veins, but perpetually on fire. The spirit levels the sharp blade to the soft skin of her neck that isn’t hidden by the threads of her tunic. “Just like this.”

The flames of the sword lick against her skin, but do not harm her. Instead, Salla looks up at the spirit’s head that resembles the armored helm of a masked warrior. But like a bow pulled taut, she snaps.

The spirits rear back as the air snaps. Fingers twist and pull, and Salla knocks the blade from Rage’s hands until she levels it at the spirit instead, the flames burning against its own. It presses into the light of its throat, sparks snapping like a sword against a hot polishing stone.

“Do it,” says Rage, and the cold heat draws her breath shallow. “Show me your rage. Shatter me.”

But Salla does not move.

“But we could also be together,” the spirit says instead. “We can destroy all their pretty things, all their extravagant wealth and temples. We can stain that pretty’s wolf’s fur red.”

Rage’s cold heat thrums against her skin almost painfully, and she remembers.

The prickling of an eluvian’s magic at her back, furs of russet clinging to her wolf shape, and her lips pulled back to bare teeth as she watched the destructive magic eat away at Alhannon’s arm, the agony spasms drawing curses and cries from his lips.

“Your death would cause more senseless chaos, more bloodshed.” His voice said – not Alhannon – Solas. “It is unnecessary. Though I doubt you will thank me.” The brutality of how he grabbed Alhannon, how roughly he pulled the remnants of the Dalish hunter’s arm forward and severed it, blood sizzling as it dripped to the ground.

“Live well, while time remains,” Solas had said as he turned away, only to meet Salla’s own eyes as she blocked his way to the eluvian at her back. And a smile found its way across his face, shattering the stoic façade he wore so well. “Vhenan.” That singular word tightened around her heart and she almost ran for him then and there – not to hurt him, but embrace him, to follow him. But anger boiled deep. Rage bubbled below the surface.

“Surana!” Alhannon called for her – her old name, the one she held before she left the clan and took another – and he shuttered painfully, clutching at the stump that used to be his arm, magic still crackling in the air. “Kill him! Do it now!”

She could try; it’d be easy, but would it work? Would he just turn her to stone like the Qunari? But before she even realized she was there, her teeth clamped around one of Solas’s arms.

Though she did not bite down; her fangs barely even pierced the armor he wore. Instead, a whine rumbled deep in her, and fingers pressed into her fur.

“Vhenan,” he whispered and pressed a kiss right at one of her folded back ears.

“Surana, what are you doing?” Alhannon asked between gasps. “Kill him already.”

But she could not. Instead, she let him go and slunk back, allowing him to pass.

She couldn’t kill him.

And she can’t shatter Rage.

The sword drops from her hands and clatters to the earth below. “No,” she whispers. “There’s more to this than rage and anger.”

The spirit simply simmers and stares down at the discarded weapon.

Without a word, she leaves the garden for her quarters, knowing full well that a pair of emerald eyes watches her from the shadows.

***

“Lady Mythal and Lord Fen’Harel have requested your presence at tonight’s meal.”

Salla and Knowledge glance up from the bundles of rolled parchments and bound books at an elf with Mythal’s vallaslin sketched across their face. They’re stiff, unsure, but their insecurity flutters in the atmosphere around them and soils the taste of the air.

“I’m usually present, for a few minutes at least,” Salla retorts.

But the messenger’s lips purse. “Allow me to be clearer then,” they mutter with a sharp edge to their words. “They want you to join them at their table.”

Salla stills, halfway with scribing a written line across her parchment. “Join them?” She blinks.

Knowledge though shimmers and weaves through the air. “Oh!” it boasts. “It’s an honor to sit with an Evanuris at their table. That’s normally only a privilege given to their highest ranking.”

“An honor,” Salla mumbles. Doesn’t really feel like an honor to her; more of an excuse for them to ask her questions, which she’d have no choice but to answer.

She looks to the messenger. “Thank you, I will head down as soon as I’m finished here,” she says. But the messenger doesn’t budge, rather only watches her finish a few more inked lines. With a sigh, she glances up from the drying ink and narrows her eyes. “You’re still here,” she deadpans.

“Lady Mythal and Lord Fen’Harel requested me to bring you to the dining room,” they say. Ah, so not just a messenger then.

Salla huffs. “Very well,” she drawls and finishes her parchment. “Knowledge, can you help me with the books?”

With the heavy volumes returned, the spirit scoops the rolled parchments up in the tendrils of its limbs and curls in the air. “Salladin, you eat. I’ll return these to your quarters,” says the spirit.

Begrudgingly, her lips twitch and she turns, following out this nameless messenger down twisting tower stands, through corridors, until Salla’s ears ring with the voices of many, many people. She hesitates a step, pauses, and glances at the back of this elf’s head and their hair which is warped and tied with beads of crystal, sapphire, and silver.

These petty elves with their pretty things.

Her eyes narrow on their hair and ties and wish they’d rather fall away and let their hair fall free than bask in this prideful image.

The table of the two Evanuris is at the highest platform, where spirits swim high in number and color. Several elves sit around the table, and the two tables at each head are sculpted fashionably – one with a dragon sporting many curling golden horns, and another with a wolf carved out of crystal and six emeralds cut where its eyes would be. She spots Mythal, but no giant white wolf.

“My Lady Mythal and Lord Fen’Harel, I’ve brought you the construct,” says the messenger as I come to their side. Again with that offensive term.

Heads turn and conversation pauses as eyes track over us. The messenger begins. “Do you need anything else of me, my-”

A sudden snap silence the messenger as the ties in their hair suddenly come free, gem beads falling and scattering. All color drains from their face as silver hair falls down to their heels, and they freeze mid-word.

Salla fights the urge to smirk and laugh, instead only blinking and glancing to a few sapphire beads that roll down to some elves who’ve turned their way.

Well. How embarrassing.

The horned woman Salla remembers as Mythal rises from her dragon-carved seat and waves a hand dismissively. “That is all, thank you,” she says before the messenger bows and darts away.

Golden eyes find Salla’s and Mythal gestures toward an empty side on the other side of the table, near the wolf-carved chair. “Sit,” she commands, and Salla dares not refuse, bowing on her way to the chair.

Except when she does sit, her eyes trail upward and finds the seat of the wolf is not empty. Salla’s thankful she’s sitting because her eyes scan his face – Solas’s face – though definitely younger than the Solas she knew where time and wisdom aged him. She knew Solas without any hair, but this… man, has hair – sides shaven to dark stubble and braids of tightly woven hair falling past his shoulders from the crown of his head. Different braids are clasped with gold or emerald or crystal, eyes a gray but deep with a brewing storm, but with cheeks you can cut your hand on.

And what he wears, oh – what he wears sits on him tightly, illustrating every breath he takes, and the pelt of a white wolf is draped over his right shoulder.

His eyes meet Salla’s own, and he notches a brow high. “Salladin, is it?” he begins, and it’s his voice, definitely his voice.

Salla feels like she’s about to vomit.

“You’ve just paled,” he says. “Are you ill?”

She’s thankful her emotions don’t flutter in the air like theirs do. But she closes her eyes gently, swallows tightly, and shakes her head. “I just remembered I haven’t eaten all day,” she lies. It’s better to lie, at least right now. Salla needs to remind herself this isn’t the Solas she knew.

He hums. “Then help yourself,” Fen’Harel offers and nods to the table strewn with platters upon platters of elegantly crafted foods and sweets and vegetables in the shapes of dragons and wolves.

But all she reaches for, and deposits on her plate, is a tiny, spongy cake with a pinkish red flower petal pressed into the top.

Oddly though, it draws a laugh from Fen’Harel’s lips, and Salla grows rigid. The sound of his laughter pulls at something in her, tightening like a serpent around her lungs and heart and burning between her ribs.

“A wild berry cake isn’t a meal,” he states then.

But defiantly, Salla settles her napkin layout down upon her legs and gently stabs the cake with the edges of one of her given forks and easily pops it in her mouth.

The splash of flavor is a shock; Salla doesn’t remember the last time she had something quite like this – probably when Corypheus was defeated and Josephine threw the party. But even then, her palette was soured with worry and loneliness.

The taste of several berries erupts on her tongue and she swallows with a soft cough. “It is now,” she says coyly and offers a smirk his way.

Only, he tilts a brow and there’s a spark in his stormy eyes, a twitch to his lips.

Salla blinks and glances away; now doubly grateful her emotions don’t betray her in the air.

In silence, she slowly reaches for the sliced rabbit and pheasant upon the table and serves some of it upon her plate.

No one at the table talks to her as they eat and continue their conversations. She’s thankful for it, and allows her to softly nibble her meats, berries, and vegetables in silence. Until-

“Salladin.” Mythal’s voice stills her, and Salla glances up from her plate. The mage-queen’s eyes are calculating, and the aura about her calms like a relaxed beast. Eyes of all find her before Mythal continues, “I hope you are enjoying yourself here.”

Salla swallows and nods her head low. “I am, and thank you for hospitality,” she says.

“My spirits have told me you prefer to eat and walk alone. Why is that?” Mythal asks.

“I am used to a much simpler life, my Lady,” Salla explains. “Before I arrived, I hunted and grew my own food, and ate what I caught that day. The extravagance of my home was few.”

Mythal hums. “So, you’re overwhelmed?”

The Evanuris is calculating and careful with her words, Salla knows.

“Simply unaccustomed to the generosity of others,” Salla replies.

The atmosphere around them warms.

“Yes,” Mythal hums. “Fen’Harel has told me of your meeting in the Dreaming. I had thought a construct would not be able to dream, but you’ve proved us both wrong. My dear friend doesn’t believe you a construct.”

Blinking rapidly, Salla turns from Mythal to Fen’Harel, who watches her like a puzzle that’s not easy to solve.

“Your people did not all have magic,” Mythal continues and Salla turns back, eager not to meet the Dread Wolf’s eyes again. But she knows his stare burrows into the back of her head.

“Yes,” Salla confirms.

“And those that did not outnumbered those that did. They imprisoned those with magic, policed them, and tore them from who they are,” Mythal says.

“Yes.” Salla lowers her head.

But the air about the rest of the elves sharpens, slithers into uneasiness and horror.

“Then it would make sense that you’re how you are,” the Evanuris says. “And we’ll be happy to help you.”

But what would that cost?

“I have petitioned Mythal to allow you to come with me,” his voice suddenly says and chills her blood.

Salla turns, appetite soiled, and catches the Dread Wolf’s stare. A smirk curls his lips up.

“I will be glad to help you find your place,” he says.

More like, happy to study her, for she’s such a fascinating curiosity.

It’s difficult to swallow, but Salla forces herself to. She wants her freedom, she wants to run out into the forests and disappear; she wants to build herself a cottage by a lake, grow a garden, and just simply live.

But she’s faced with this mage god-king and she doesn’t know what’s next. Her Solas is gone, her world is gone; everyone she knew but a remnant only in her mind and erased by time. She’s the only one who knows, who may be able to steer events away.

Salla could stop him from erecting the Veil. She could prevent the rise of Corypheus, the destruction sowed when Arlathan falls. But she can’t do that from within a tiny cottage in an unknown forest.

She can only do that from the inside.

“Thank you, my Lord Fen’Harel,” she forces herself to say. “I will go with you then.”

#submission #salla #long post #oh man #i really like knowledge a lot i think #and salla's dread here is so good #the discomfort of having things known and figured out #also i really liked the bit with rage #this was a wonderful read!#<3333

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caradickson · 3 years

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Structure Brief

Our structure brief explores the world of architectural photography. It requires us to research and analyse architects work and how to photograph their work to show their vision.

10 examples of architectural photography:

Chris Humphreys

https://www.chrishumphreys.net/about

Firstly I wanted to talk about Chris Humphreys based in Edinburgh. I began my research close to home and looked for local photographers who specialise in architecture. Chris Humphreys has been a trusted photographer for architects, interior designers, construction companies and developers for over 10 years. As well as being a professional photographer, he has been a qualified architect for over 25 year, working in Scotland. Having the creative skills and knowledge of both areas means he has a further developed understanding of how to complete projects in the best possible way.

‘Chris believes that good architectural photography is not just about documenting spaces, but capturing the design intent behind the space.’

Architecture photography is all about: composition, lighting, detail.

Chris works mainly with natural and ambient light.

I chose the below photograph of Chris’ to speak upon as I was attracted to the warm colours. Here Chris has thought about the buildings connection to it’s environment and clearly done the right planning to catch the weather at the correct time, capturing tones of pink, blue and yellow in the sky. The warm yellow glow from inside the building provides a homely and inviting appearance. The building is called Whitehouse Lodge in Isle of Coll and I imagine Chris was commissioned to photograph the home for promotional purposes, to invite people to come and rent out the lodge for holidays. The photograph has been shot with a wide angle lens, showing off the spacious, empty landscape surrounding the lodge.

Iwan Baan

Iwan Baan is a Dutch photographer, born just outside Amsterdam and studied at the Royal Academy of Art in The Hague. Iwan’s images are known primarily to narrate the life and interactions are occur within architecture.

The below image is of the Arbre Blanc building in Montpellier in France. In 2013, the city council sought to built a ‘beacon tower’ to enrich the city’s architectural heritage. The building is comprised of homes and shops.

The building is very striking with square platforms protruding all up the sides. Iwan Bann has done a good job at photographing the building at the right time of day with appropriate weather conditions so that the sky compliments the building. The photograph has a pale blue and white wash which gives a feeling of delicacy and peacefulness. Baan has successfully captured the abstractness of the building.

Paul Clemence

Paul Clemence is a photographer and artist born in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil but now lives and works in New York. He explores the areas of design, art and architecture. I came across his work from an article on designboom.com, which has a whole section on architecture. The article was covering his project photographing Thomas Heatherwick’s design ‘Lantern House’ in New York. The structure has a unique bubble/pod appearance, comprised of different levels and sections. The below image shows the building as a whole, capturing all parts of the structure. Heatherwick’s design was inspired by the areas maritime warehouses and industrial heritage. I think Clemence has captured the full structure well, while keeping the vertical parallel lines straight. Lines are important in design and architecture photography as they move the eye through the photograph. The green hinted glass windows of the structure are complimented by the blue sky.

Lucien Herve

Lucien Herve was a Hungarian/French photographer, known for his architectural work. Throughout his career he worked closely with architect Le Corbusier, who designed the below structure named ‘Unité d'Habitation’. Herve went to visit the structure and supposedly took 650 photographs of it that day.

The geometric photograph below is full of texture and shapes. The vertical lines are straight and the stone of the structure frames the image well. The way that the light is shining through the stone to create the contrasting shadows allows our eyes to flow through the image. The use of light and shadow compliments the strong structure and the textured surface of the walls. The building is a bold, large structure and Herve captured the light that reenforces it’s build.

Barbara Spaggiari - http://www.barbaraspaggiari.com/

I came across this image on the website Eye-em, who hosted a competition on minimalism architecture photography. The below image is by an Italian photographer named Barbara Spaggiari. Firstly I would like to compliment the soft pastel tones. The blue and yellow compliment eachother well. The minimalist photograph is composed well, with the vertical lines remaining straight. The soft shadow in the bottom left corner is a nice touch to tell us the direction of light and so that the image isn’t too flat.

Adrià Goula Sardà

The building below was designed by architects Nomo Studio. The structure was commissioned to be built into a summer villa, in amongst an archaeological site. The unique build of the building is a result of several factors, including a steep gradient on the land and there were areas of the archaeological site that were to be conserved. The walls are curved and the ceilings arched, as to avoid the protected areas while remaining to maximise the structures space. The whole interior is open plan with large windows, as to give the perception of space. To maximise the light that entered the building, which reflects how big the building feels. The photograph below was taken by Adria Goula Sarda, who originally trained and studied as an architect before years later settling in architecture photography. I think the perspective and position that the photograph is taken front highlights the quirky shape of the building. There is a nice clean lit sky, the whole scene feels calm and serene. I think keeping the steps in the frame allows our eyes to be lead up the photo and to the main structure.

I found this project and photographer from the Nono Studio website.

The photograph below is the interior of a music school in Portugal, designed by the architect firm Aurora Arquitectos. The image was taken by someone in their team, but beautifully shows the design and texture within. The floor to ceiling windows giving way for the sun beams across the floor. The structure was built as a connector between two buildings that were part of the music school. The colourful space in between was made as a relaxation space for rest in between classes. The bright colours are sure to inspire and motivate the mind. The composition of the photograph allows us to see the texture and intricacy of the patterned ceiling and the clean, smooth tonal floor, both contrasting one another while working in harmony. The centre of the windows where both side meet in the middle is centre of the image which brings balance. The sun flooring in the right hand side of the windows allows us to see that the space is home for a lot of natural light. The photograph taken at this time offers some more contrast. It is true our environments have a impact on our performance, and this light, colourful space with lots of different shapes present, provides excitement and positivity for the mind. Important for a place that houses the creation of music and art.

David Goldblatt

David was a south African photographer whose work largely focused on landscape and architecture in Johannesburg during the apartheid era. He documented the realities of apartheid during that time, and how it influenced the cities architecture. Goldblatt commonly worked in monochrome throughout his career but come the 1990′s starting exploring the world of colour. The image below is titled ‘Incomplete Houses’ and was a development of 1000 houses that was stalled for many years. It took three years to complete 430 of the 1000 houses. There were many reasons for the delay in completion; lack of funds, theft of materials, shortage of water, issues with sewage disposal. The image was taken August 6th, 2006. I think Goldblatt has captured the incomplete, empty feeling within the photograph. A desolated land with a washed over sky. Photographing this landscape on a day where there is no bright sun or contrasting shadows which can bring drama or character to the land, emphasises it’s emptiness and stillness.

Below is another photograph by Goldblatt taken in ‘86. It is a Dutch Reformed Church. The image is very striking with the structures dramatic design. The stone building bares little windows or areas in which to access inside the church. Goldblatt spoke about churches that were built during the apartheid and said of them being defensive. Emphasising the race separation during that time.

I think tonally the photograph is beautiful. The flowing lines of the structure and monochrome stone blending with the cloudy sky. The whole front of the structure is shown, showing us the peculiar build. The light is soft, no harsh or hard shadows are present. I scene feels still. Nobody in site and no insight into what is beyond the walls of the church. It is a structure of privacy.

Hélène Binet

Helene Binet was born in Switzerland but is based in London and is a famous architecture photographer. The below image is of the Hedmark Museum in Norway designed by architect Sverre Fehn. The photograph was taken in 2009 and the building was built in 1971.

Binet speaks a lot about the 3rd dimension when speaking about photography. She does not photograph things but tries to show and experience different dimensions.

The photograph has some beautiful shape and soft light. We have the vertical lines perfectly straight, which is important within architecture. The curved lines cutting across the centre of the image keeps our eyes exploring around the photograph and creates flow. The light falling on the floor gives a smooth complexion and hits the walls beautifully showing the texture of the stone work. The photograph is a beautiful example of a well executed, thought out image that compliments the structure.

Resources:

https://www.pierremm.com/architecture-photographer/architecture-photography-famous-artists.php

https://www.nomostudio.eu/

https://www.michaelhoppengallery.com/

https://www.eyeem.com/

https://www.urbanrealm.com/

https://www.archdaily.com/?ad_name=small-logo

https://www.designboom.com/architecture/aurora-arquitectos-music-school-portugal-yellow-ccm-10-12-2020/

https://placesjournal.org/article/david-goldblatt-and-the-indeterminate-landscape-south-africa/?cn-reloaded=1

https://www.goodman-gallery.com/search/index?utf8=%E2%9C%93&term=david+goldblatt&commit=search

https://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/05/21/dancing-in-the-dark-the-architectural-photography-of-helene-binet/

http://helenebinet.com/photography/sverre-fehn/

#preproduction

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thecitysorrowbuilt · 6 years

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Cry

"Since the passage of the Differently Powered Americans Act in 1989, relations between the newly designated 'perdos' and powertypicals have improved markedly. Where previously perdos were viewed with disdain and fear by the majority of the populace, now both groups live side-by-side, unafraid. By ensuring equal treatment under the law and instituting government oversight over powered vigilante activity, the DPAA stands up today as a shining example of compromise between two groups who have historically faced difficulty seeing eye-to-eye."

Jeremy chewed the inside of his cheek and shot a glance around the room. Only Cheyenne seemed to be even interested in the documentary, that is assuming it was notes she was writing down and not just random scribbling.The rest of the team by turns stared at the clock, considered the inside of their eyelids or examined their fingernails. Generally speaking, Human-Perdo relations was not that bad of a course, at least it was easy, but these documentaries always seemed to rub Jeremy just a little bit the wrong way. It was amazing how the pleasant voiced man narrating could be so quick to forgive decades and decades of mistreatment, glossing over it as if it was some far off dark age and not merely a few generations removed. Jeremy steepled his fingers and popped his knuckles, earning a shush from Greenstar at the back of the room. He hadn't asked to be roped into all this. Half the time he wished his parents had just followed through on their threat of shipping him off to a military school for kids with powers. The rest of the time he shivered and wondered if it was true the things he'd heard about those schools, how kids got listed as run aways so they could be turned into human weapons and used against the Soviets. Being a member of the Youth Vanguard wasn't terrible really, when compared to other options. It just wasn't fair that while some teens got lucky and were assigned to good teams, with good leadership, Jeremy had somehow wound up on one of the 'problem' units. These were kids that either had shit powers, shit families, or shit attitudes. He told himself that he was here because of the latter, although at night the thought popped into his head that maybe it was his ability after all. He'd push these thoughts back and back, but they always lingered on waiting for the right moment to attack. He told himself that what sent him here was his conduct record, and that it was nothing a little hard work and positivity couldn't fix. Not that these were things that came easily to him. He looked over at Cheyenne hoping to meet her eyes. She didn't even notice, remaining enrapt in the exciting tale of how normals in their profound generosity had given up on exterminating every single perdo. Jeremy looked back down, his hands callused and his nails bitten low. 'Maybe this will be good for me,' he whispered to himself. Mercifully the documentary ended soon, and everyone was allowed to stand and stretch. Jeremy stifled a yawn as he rolled his neck, mentally patting himself on the back for good behavior. Greenstar and Catcher, their assigned mentors, came to the front of the classroom and collected the question sheets they had passed out earlier. Catcher spoke first. "Alright, now that that's out of the way. Was there anything in that video anyone found particularly surprising?" Completely unsurprisingly, Cheyenne's hand was the only one to go up. "Ms. Hererra." "I had read before about the riots in 1987, but I had no idea it was so violent! So many people died just because they were born different." Her voice started off excited, but trailed off. Catcher nodded slowly in agreement while Greenstar crossed his arms. "Anyone else?" In comparison to Catcher's even tone, Greenstar's voice always seemed harsh to Jeremy's ears. "Mr. Harris?" Jeremy blinked his eyes automatically at hearing his surname, then looked down to his desk and back up. "Well, uh, I thought that it was interesting that perdo became the preferred word when the DPAA got passed, but now it's such a controversy if we should keep it or not." Everyone sat in silence for a second. From the corner of his eye, Jeremy saw Liam flash him a thumbs up and a goofy grin. Before one of the adults could respond, his hand went up too. Hesitantly, Catcher called him. "Mr. Bernard.." "I learned," Liam began excitedly, "that Jeremy actually can stay awake during an in-class movie." Silence persisted only for a second before the class set to giggling. Jeremy's face burned and he pursed his lips. Catcher clapped his hands loudly and everyone sat at attention. "Hilarious. Don't do it again, Bernard. Class is dismissed, but as I'm sure you're all aware we have combat training at 4:30. Go to your dorm, change, get ready, come back." As soon as that sentence ended, Jeremy felt himself jamming all his papers into his bookbag, zipping it in one motion and rushing toward the door. He tried to beat the rush, but his desk sat at the far edge of the classroom, so he was unable to make it far down the hall before encountering conversation. "That was pretty funny, right?" Liam said to him, grabbing his shoulder as he walked up behind him. Jeremy rolled his eyes. Connie stepped beside them and smirked. "Don't do it again Mr. Bernard", she quoted, punching him lightly in the stomach. Even still Liam gasped and bent with the blow, releasing Jeremy. "I just don't see why Greenstar has to always call me out. As if I'm the only one other than Teacher's Pet who doesn’t want to be here." Connie shot a look of pure death at him. "Be nice," she said, pulling back her arm, "Or else." Jeremy licked his lips nervously and nodded. "Yeah, alright. I'll put it on my to-do list." Shooting a glance over his shoulder he saw Cheyenne still hadn't left the classroom, and Eric was dragging his feet behind them, completely unhurried. Strange, because his power required the most downtime before it could be used effectively. While many abilities could operate with no buildup necessary, Eric needed to spend a fairly decent amount of time holding onto something hot in order to charge up his heat beams. Normally this took the form of him sitting next to the stove in the dorm he shared with Liam and Jeremy, one hand gripping the red hot element, the other lazily flipping through channels. The dorms were really only supposed to accomodate two YV members, but because of the nature of their team as a 'problem' unit, all three of the boys on the team had been forced to share one room. At first it had been a hassle, but over time they had fostered an uneasy peace, going so far as to make a schedule so no one had to sleep on the futon more than one night in a row. This was not to say the bunks were appreciably more comfortable, but in the minds of the roommates, sleeping on the couch permanently while the other two got the beds would be a clear sign of submission. It had been Liam's idea, ever diplomatic. He had told Jeremy once that he was the middle of seven siblings, and it showed. Eric on the other hand was like a smooth stone, not difficult to deal with, but unmoving. He kept to himself mostly, preferring to watch tv or listen to music, but if one of the others challenged him he was quick to lash out. So long as everyone followed the rules and he understood and agreed to them, he was a perfectly amicable dormmate. The three had been living together for almost a month now, but Jeremy still felt sometimes that he barely knew either of them. On their second week, the three had sat together playing cards and Liam had raised the topic of how they all ended up there, half jokingly. When silence reigned he volunteered that he had always wanted to be in the YV, and that he had actually had to beg his parents to let him go to try and be a hero. He laughed when telling the story but it was obvious that hurt sat just below the surface. Jeremy had gone next, telling them after tripping a teacher at his old school and using his powers mischeviously, his parents had forced him to join, giving over the other option as Perdo Military school. What he hadn't said was that he had been pleased, because he had been trying to get away from home for years unsuccessfully. Both of them turned their glance to Eric, who all the time had been studying his hand of cards. Feeling their gazes, he looked up and regarded them with his deep grey eyes. One corner of his mouth twitched to the side before he spoke. "I burned someone."

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