#i had no idea from beginning to end where it was going

[delusional-day-dreamer]

Sleepy Girl - p.b.

‣ paige bueckers x gf reader!

‣ wc: 2k of smut 😛

‣‣ synopsis: waking up in the morning horny and ur girlfriend is right there tbh (ending is kinda rushed and the fic is not yet edited so please bear with me)

‣‣‣ a/n: hey guys... i know i completely ghosted this app for a good while but thank you for all the support even while i was MIA. this idea came to me at 11pm on vacation and i figured i should grind it out and make a return. i have a lot of drafts and ideas i came up with but no idea if i'll be able to write them all. in the meantime enjoy and happy holidays!

The warm sunlight spilling in to your bedroom and directly onto your face from the small gap in your curtains seemed to have it out against you.

It was one of the incredibly rare weekends of the season, where your girlfriend, Paige, didn’t have morning practice, lifting, or any PT sessions for residual pain after coming back home late from a basketball game (UConn won, obviously) and the two of you planned to make the most of it.

Having been in a relationship for almost a year now, the two of you had gotten to know each other pretty well over time. From working with the basketball team as a photographer to sharing a class with Paige, to running into each other literally everywhere every single day, metaphorically and physically, the universe seemed to have an intricate plan to bring the two of you together. And with such insistent force, who were the two of you to rebel?

The past ten months dating Paige had been a small roller coaster, the days spent together blissfully were obviously accompanied by the occasional argument of time management or messy rooms or even slight jealousy, but it was nothing the two of you couldn’t work through.

And of course, it was all accompanied by the mind blowing sex you couldn’t stop having. Bent over the kitchen counter, in the shower, in the living room, standing up, from the back, you name it.

But, there was one thing you and Paige had discussed exploring, but never gotten the chance to pursue, and it seemed like this morning was the perfect chance to test it out.

Depending on who woke up first, the two of you often liked to wake the other up with gentle kisses, roaming hands, and sweet nothings. But your synced ovulation cycles brought on a new possibility: morning head.

Although the concept of fucking your girlfriend while she was asleep seemed… well, odd to say the least, the two of you had discussed consent extremely thoroughly, and you weren’t going to sit (or lay in this instance) here and pretend that the sight of Paige laying in your bed right now wasn’t actively turning you on.

She had come to your off campus apartment immediately after her game at XL center and crashed pretty fast, only stopping to shower change into an old, oversized yet cropped off the shoulder sweatshirt of yours and a pair of boxers she left in your drawers.

Currently, she was conveniently splayed out on her back, her left arm stretched above her head raised the hem of your sweatshirt upwards, exposing the curve of her chest and the slightest glimpse of her pink nipples, which were already slightly peaked from the cold air radiating from your fan.

It didn’t take long for you to make up your mind, softly crawling over to rest in between her legs as you leaned over her sleeping figure, using your left hand to gently lift the fabric over her perky tits, exposing her creamy skin to you. You slowly peppered kisses on her boobs, not wanting to create too much stimulation that would wake her before you got to the more exciting part. Although, you weren’t sure you would have to worry about that. Paige could sleep through a hurricane if she was tired enough.

You nipped and sucked at her chest, making sure to pay special attention to her nipples before beginning your descent down her toned abs, bringing your hands to rub at her thighs simultaneously.

Paige groaned softly in her sleep, unconsciously spreading her legs out wider as your fingers danced over the waistband of her boxers.

Deciding that there was no reason to be a tease, especially with the growing ache in between your own legs, you hooked your fingers in her boxers and pulled them downwards, being extremely careful when taking them off her body fully and throwing them off into a corner of your room.

You shift lower, aligning your face with Paige’s already wet cunt as you grip her thighs and blow into her folds lightly, gently arousing her.

You start softly, small kisses and hickeys leading inwards before you finally allow your tongue to lick a long stripe from her entrance up to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her breath slightly hitch.

Even in her sleep, Paige’s body was actively reacting to the growing pleasure as you circled her clit with your tongue and hummed into her, sending shockwaves running through her body, legs spreading, mouth dropping open with low moans, and back arching.

And yet, she was still asleep. You had no interest in waking her up forcefully, it would defeat the whole purpose of morning head. So, you dutifully detached your lips from her clit, opting to replace it with your thumb as you run your fingers through the slick she had accumulated before inserting your middle finger into her, curling it upwards in the way you knew she loved, which seemed to do the trick.

Her eyes began to flutter open the moment you added in your ring finger, mouth dropping with a groan as her right hand reaches out to cup the side of your face.

"Good morning," you rasp out, your breath hot against her sensitive cunt as you smirk at the already fucked out expression on her face.

"Fuck baby, God I didn’t think it would be this good when we talked about-”

Her sleepy whines were cut off with another loud moan as you reattached your lips to her clit, pressing into her g-spot with your fingers while simultaneously sucking her clit, small laughs vibrating through her core as you watched her body shudder at your actions. Her hand immediately moved up to your scalp, placing a firm grip in your head as she secured your spot deep between her legs, anchoring you in place.

"Aw shit ma, fuck you're so good at that, right there just like that, such a good fucking girl for me, don't stop mama you're gonna make me cum," her breathless rambles were endless as she used her left hand to play with her already exposed nipples.

The added stimulation pushed her closer to the edge, and it wasn't long before her muscular thighs began to shake around your head, closing around the sides of your face as she began to grind her hips into your mouth, chasing every second of her orgasm as her mouth hung open with cries.

She eventually let up after you finished licking her clean, even making a show of pulling your fingers out of her and sucking her juices off of them. Her gaze darkens as she pulls you up and over her body once again, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

She nips at your bottom lip before pulling away, feigning annoyance in her tone. "As much as I loved the little stunt you pulled just now, shit pissed me off too. Brought this up in the first place cause I wanted to surprise you."

"Actin' like it's that big of a deal P, you can just do it a different morning," you teased, hand running up and down her side.

"Mm, whatever. All I care about right now is gettin' you right ma," she mumbles against your lips, reconnecting your lips as she slips her tongue into your mouth, grabbing your ass and rolling your hips into her at the same time.

"Nuh uh, it's your day to pillow princess. Lemme spoil you a little bit. You're still tired and sore from your game yeah? Besides, I have a better idea," you insisted, rising up and straddling her waist.

You shoved your sweater off her body before Paige's large hands pulled your grey tank top up and over your head, tossing it somewhere either of you couldn't be bothered to check. Her hand pressed into your mid back, forcing you to arch over her, conveniently placing your perky tits right over her mouth.

Her teeth scraped against your stiff peaks as her other hand, which had quickly returned to its place resting on your ass, began rocking your hips back and forth over her abs, drawing out deep sighs of pleasure from the multiple sources of friction and stimulation.

"Fuck Paige," you whined out, "why you gotta make it so hard for me to take care of you sometimes," you half-heartedly reprimanded, pinching her nipple roughly as you tore yourself away from her, shimmying your basically non-existent thong off as you resettled yourself in between her legs.

"Crawl up to the headboard," you demanded, raising your eyebrow at her inquisitive expression.

"Please," you added in with a soft pout, satisfied when she complied with your request. You eagerly followed her body, stationing your hands on her shoulders as you draped your right leg over her left, maneuvering her right in order to rest over your own left before gently lowering yourself down, hissing the moment your cores met.

You rolled your hips forward tentatively, moving your left hand down to Paige's right thigh while you sank forward, circling your other arm around her neck as you moaned against her lips.

The kiss was a needy, open mouthed mess of saliva and moans as you continued to roll your hips into Paige's with the help of her guiding hands, shocks of pleasure licking your spine every time your clits aligned.

As you approached closer to your orgasm, your head tipped back, mouth hung open with desperate, borderline pornographic whines constantly spilling out, impairing your ability to kiss Paige back. Though, she would never complain and simply kept her mouth busy by sucking hickeys along your neck and chest, whispering filthy words of encouragement into your skin.

"My girl's such a slut for me, huh? Riding me so good, pussy so wet she's dripping all over me, 's basically crying for me ma. You like that?"

Her gravely voice added to the fuzzy feeling that had taken over your brain, driven only by the tight coil threatening to snap any second in your belly. From the feeling of yours and Paige's warm slickness coating your entire cunt, to the deep throbbing you clit was experiencing.

You moved your left hand from Paige's thigh up to the headboard, using it to grind down harder against Paige's center, and the pressure on your clits had moans ringing out from both of you.

"God, Paige. So close baby, fuck I'm so close," you whined near incoherently, eyes screwed shut from the way your entire body was on fire, on the edge of immense pleasure.

She moved her mouth to the sweet spot behind your ear, nipping at the skin as she her fingers deftly began tweaking your nipples. "Cum for baby, give it to me. Please need it so bad."

You cry out as a freight train of an orgasm hits you, Paige's words and hands sending you over the edge, and the sight of you coming undone, not to mention the sounds you were letting out, left Paige no choice but to follow your lead.

Your body shuddered against hers, the pleasure slowly washing over you, leaving you breathless and extremely sensitive. You untangled your legs from Paige, collapsing on the bed next to her and pulling her down with you.

You kissed her sweetly, intimately, a far cry from the sex you were just having.

"I love you so much you know that?" You muttered against Paige's lips, cracking your eyes open to see the lazy smile set on her face.

"I love you too, even though I'm pissed you stole my surprise," she whispered defiantly.

"What you don't think those two orgasms made up for it? We can go for round two if you really insist," you smirked, knowing that there was no way your body could handle another orgasm immediately.

Before she can even answer, your stomach growled loudly, inciting loud laughter from both of you.

"How about we take care of that first yeah? We can go for round two in the shower after breakfast," she responded slyly, pulling you up and out of bed with her to get dressed and have breakfast together. To you, nothing in the world could beat mornings like these with Paige.

[synvil]

Recording.. // Pornstar! Rafe Cameron x Pornstar! Fem! Reader

a/n: welp, this will be interesting. there’s so many ways this can go but let’s see which one i came up with.

synopsis : getting to work with the famous, most current top rated star in the porn industry was a dream. Let’s see how it turns out for you. pornstar! au!

warnings : explicit content! penetration, choking, cunnilingus, afab!, multiple orgasms, roughness, squirt, etc.

“[Name], thank you for coming. Did you get the email regarding today’s content?”

Shaking hands with the producer, you share a smile and nod, pulling away. “Yes, I read through it. I’m alright with it all.”

“Great, and I take it you’ve already showered and cleaned up before coming? Any questions?”

You nod again to the first part before thinking for a moment and parting your lips to speak. “Actually, I just wasn’t sure who I would be working with today. That wasn’t clear in the email.”

The producer exhales in understanding and hears the door opening, “Actually, we needed confirmation that he was willing to come in today,” and a tall, muscular and toned male steps out, a towel around his neck and in nothing but boxers and some gym shorts. “And there he is. Cameron!”

“Cameron..?”

The male who steps out looks up as he ruffles one end of the towel against his head of hair. “Yeah?” Almost immediately, he locks eyes with you.

Holy shit.

THE Rafe Cameron. The highest rated star in the industry, where every man and woman alike would kill to meet the handsome stud, much more, to work with him.

Must be a fever dream.

When you first auditioned to be part of this industry, Rafe was only beginning to take off.

And now that you were one of the top stars alongside him, Rafe was the highest rated one, and every woman who ever had the chance to work with him, could never be the same.

Thing is, you had no idea what he was like. Was he rude? The pompous kind of asshole? Or was he charismatic and sweet? But if he was, was it just for show?

Many thoughts begin to flood your head until you realize the producer and Rafe have been talking, and now he’s coming over to you, hand extended out.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Y-Yeah, same.” You mentally curse yourself out for your anxiety and shake his hand but even more for the fact that you have yet to make eye contact, still glazing over his dripping wet bare body.

Rafe follows your gaze and gives a small chuckle, a charming smirk following it as he pulls away. “Sorry, thought I’d get a quick shower in before we start our filming.” He explains but you just manage a small nod. “R-right.”

The producer comes over and pats both of your shoulders. “Alright, now that we’ve done introductions, we’ll go over the scene once more with both of you and we’ll get started. Rafe, why don’t you go get dressed and I’ll get [Name] prepped?”

Rafe nods and gives you one more glance, his smirk still shining at you. With a wink, he turns away and takes his leave.

That smirk.. it sends a certain thrilling feel of desire in your stomach and you swallow thickly before attempting to focus your gaze on the producer, who begins to instruct the scenes.

Here you are..

“I can’t believe you!”

You shout as you slam the front door behind you, just for it to open a second later and Rafe coming in. “God, you’re insufferable!”

The current scene was you and Rafe coming home from the bar, celebrating a night of a special occasion, you had gotten a promotion at work.

And now you were rushing inside, having caught your on and off boyfriend of two years, openly flirting with another woman right next to you, once again.

At least that what it looked like to you, but your boyfriend has cheated before, and you weren’t going through it again.

“Would you just listen to me for one second?!”

Rafe’s voice follows after you while you take off your heels and throw it his way. “Don’t fucking talk to me!”

He narrowly dodges the heels thrown at his face before the expensive bag in your hand is also aimed for his head.

“What are you doing?” He asks, catching the bag with a scoff as you retreat to the kitchen.

“Take it back. I don’t want it anymore, we’re done.”

“Done? So you’re just giving all the things i bought you, back?” Rafe looks at you in disbelief as you begin to take off the jewelry on your person and drop it on the counter with a clink.

“I’m done with second chances, you asshole. You can’t just do one nice thing for me, one night.” I curse, slamming my hands down on the countertop as I turn to face him.

Rafe calmly sets the bag down as he stands opposite of you of the counter and sighs softly. “Baby, you’re not thinking straight, just let me explain before you-“

“Before I what? Break up with you for the final time?” You pull off the bracelets until you’re finally free of any jewelry and slide it towards him. “Take it all back.”

This time, Rafe can’t help but curl his lips into an amused smile, as he watches you return everything on you that he had bought for you.

“All of it?”

You tsk and point to the doorway. “The heels are back there.” You remind him though he was obviously aware.

“Alright, everything.. then the dress is included, right?”

. . .

“W-What?-“ Clearly taken back, Rafe’s lips forms a smirk at your clear surprise.

“Last I checked, I bought that stunning black gown you’re wearing tonight.. to celebrate.. remember?”

His words cause you to purse your lips and you’re aware of his slow advances towards you as he rounds the island counter in the kitchen. Rafe doesn’t break eye contact, keeping his eyes trained on you as he does this.

Tensions are high and you know he’s right, but you also know what will happen if you take off the dress.

However, behind the facade, behind the cameras rolling, your inner self is ready to burst. Your cheeks are beginning to flush and you can feel the intensity of his gaze on your body, trailing up and down your figure. Whether or not he was in character was unclear but it still made you wet with arousal at the sight.

Reluctantly, you bring your hands up to the straps, pulling it to the side of your shoulders and down slowly.

Rafe’s eyes hungrily takes in your fully naked form, you weren’t even wearing panties.

Your lack of undergarments weren't part of the script, which you can tell catches Rafe by real surprise momentarily, but it quickly dissipates into a smirk instead.

“No underwear?.. How naughty of you..” he murmurs as he finally makes it to your side and you fight the blush that’s threatening to spread and darken further.

“Shut up-“

Rafe just chuckles at your reaction as his hands sneaks around your bare waist. He looks down from his height with a certain glint in his eyes. “Hey, i’m not complaining..” He says as his head moves to your neck, kissing your collarbone softly. “it's kinda sexy..”

What the hell, I can’t respond.

He’s so hot.. i need to talk.. but im speechless..

My heart is pounding so hard— Relax, [Name], this is all just acting- Rafe Cameron is just acting.

You’re overthinking, stay professional!

But the next thing you knew, Rafe Cameron’s lips were smashing against yours in an intense, heated kiss.

And the faint whimper that escaped your lips wasn’t fake.

Needy hands roam your body everywhere, his lips planted on your neck and kissing every inch of your skin. He raises his head up to your ear and whispers, his breath hot. “You good?” It was quiet and subtle, not loud enough to pick up on the microphone hanging near us.

You nod faintly, and he grins, not waste another second ravishing you.

All the prior anxiety and worries you had faded and you found yourself melting into the kiss, Rafe’s muscular arms lifting you up by the waist and placing you on the counter, the cold touch making you gasp.

That gasp was enough time for him to allow his tongue to slip in, the muscle exploring inside your mouth, making you moan lightly.

Every movement was full of passion, Rafe fondling your breasts, giving each mound a full squeeze. His fingertips pinch your buds, a gentle twist causing you to send a breathy sigh. Your hands find their way to his hair and tangle your fingers in the locks of his dirty blonde locks.

Rafe's low chuckles reaches your ears again as he travels up to nip at your earlobes. His right hand goes down to dip between your thighs, his index finger planting itself right at your clit. He rubs it a few times before whispering, "So wet.. I can't wait to taste your pretty pussy.."

It's almost a growl when he says it, sending rushes of adrenaline through your body and the boost of arousal grows further in you.

The Rafe Cameron gives you one last kiss on the lips before he slowly slides down to his knees, muscular hands grabbing a hold of your thighs tight and firm, and being face to face with your already glistening pussy.

He licks his lips and doesn't hesitate to dive face first, tongue taking a long lick to your folds before going down on you. "O-oh, fuck-" Your eyes flutter shut at the wet sensation, a sharp inhale slipping out.

Holy shit, it felt incredible.

Rafe's tongue moves in circles around your clit a few times before continuously slurping up your juices that leaked from your folds, devouring your pussy like he was starved.

Your hands prop up your body by placing it firmly on the surface under you, but you can't help the hand that goes to tug on his hair and push his face deeper in, which causes him to chuckle deeply, the action creating vibrations through you.

"Oh god, Rafe." You breathily pant, his grip forcing your thighs to remain spread while his tongue prods at your entrance, pushing in and out. "Shit.. you taste incredible.." He mutters as his nose buries itself against your clit. The feeling is enough to send you into overdrive, your head tossing back and a tightening in your stomach makes you cry out.

"R-Rafe, I'm so close-"

Grinding your hips against his face, you illicit a loud mewl of pleasure, your body sending shocks throughout as you tremble from a hard orgasm.

Despite your fluids gushing down his chin, he continues to delve deeper in, overstimulating you, causing your thighs to shake as you cry out again, making him laugh.

“Aw, was it too much for you, sweetheart?” He grins mischievously and you flush, ignoring the way your heart flutters at the nickname as you attempt to catch your breath, watching as he licks his lips and stands up straight, ripping off his button up.

You can feel your mouth going dry at the sight of his toned, chiseled abs, the sweat glistening on his skin but what widened your eyes was the sight of his hardened bulge through his trousers, and you reach for the hem of his pants and pull him close, wrapping your legs around his torso.

Remembering you’re still on camera, you speak, “This doesn’t mean I forgive you.” You mutter, staring into his eyes while your hands palm him softly, working to unzip his zipper. But your words only cause him to flash a smirk as he helps you undo his trousers. “Oh don’t worry, sweetheart, by the time i’m done with you, you’ll forget about tonight.”

Crashing his lips with yours, you grunt but let him pull you even more towards the edge before pulling you down to the ground, his hands pulling the waistband of his pants and boxers down.

He strokes himself a few times, your eyes unable to help itself to the sight and you swallow thickly.

“Something wrong, baby?” He hums in amusement and you turn away a bit bashfully. “Not at all.”

Turning you around so you faced away from him, he breaks into a smirk as he wraps his arm around to give you a hand necklace, your throat firm in his grasp. Lining himself up at your entrance, he leans in close and speaks lowly. “Good, because I don’t intend to stop.”

Without warning, he inserts his length inside and you cry out a noise of pleasure. Your back at arches and he tightens his grip on your throat, but not enough to hurt you. “Heh, shit, you’re so fucking tight..” It almost seemed like it was actually Rafe saying this to you, instead of his character, but you didn’t have much time to think about it after as he begins to thrust into you from behind.

“F-Fuck-!”

One hand goes up to grab ahold of his arm that was holding your neck, and the other holds onto the counter for support. Every hard thrust causes your breasts to bounce as you two move in sync, Rafe doing deep but slow thrusts. His other hand is firming holding your waist but it travels up to grope your right breast, squeezing it hard.

Strings of moans are filling the room, and you momentarily forget the audience and cameras on you as all you can focus on is Rafe’s cock penetrating you hard.

He’s so deep.. i-i can’t think straight- it’s too much..

i’m so close- no wonder he’s so popular..

Rafe pulls away from your neck to use both hands to hold your hips firmly, his own picking up the pace as he begins to fuck you fast, the wet juices squelching each time your skin makes contact.

His hand goes down and his finger flicks your clit and it’s starting to send you over the edge. “Rafe..” Whimpers escape you as you dip your head down, clenching your fists on the countertop tightly.

“R-Rafe, fuck, you’re so deep.. i-i’m gonna cum-“

Rafe just smirks as he rubs your clit further, continuously thrusting you harder and faster until he feels a gush over your release and he pulls out, watching as your pretty glistening pussy squirts all over the floor.

“Fuck.” He bites his lip at the sight as he feels his own building up, and he spins you around while you’re panting. “Get on your knees,”

You fall to your knees to his command, and watch as he strokes himself fast and seconds later, his cum spurts its white salty liquid over your face, painting it like a canvas.

He pants heavily, catching his breath while you do the same, eyes fluttered shut at the warm liquid drips down.

“And cut! That was great, now get cleaned up you two!”

“You alright, [Name]?”

Still on the ground, you barely register a voice is talking to you while you appear dazed and confused.

Rafe has some skin-sensitive wipes in his hands, gently rubbing your face to wipe off any of his fluids before carefully helping you to your feet. “Did I go too rough on you?”

“I’m alright, thanks..” You whisper, feeling the exhaustion take over you. You lean onto Rafe, who holds you securely against his chest. “If it’s any consolation, today was fuckin’ amazing..” He chuckles lightly as he presses a tender kiss to your temple before guiding you to the couch where you can rest for a bit.

“Yeah?.. I think i understand why so many women gush over you after working with you.” You giggle weakly, sending an appreciative look when he sets you down gently, placing a blanket over you. He also chuckles lightly. “Yeah, but I think i’d like to work with you again, sometime soon. Maybe we can talk about our next filming together over dinner?”

Your stomach feels as though butterflies are doing flips inside you at the assumption of his words. “Are you asking me out, Rafe Cameron?”

Rafe merely shares a wink before pecking your forehead and getting up. “I’ll let you figure that out. Meanwhile, I’ll head to your room and draw you a bath to clean up.”

He takes your hand to press a soft kiss to the back of it before smiling your way and then turning to leave. Maybe he wasn’t acting the whole time.

“.. Rafe Cameron just asked me out..”

Best filming job ever.

a/n: hello all, hope you enjoyed! :) merry christmas. i shall have the first post of my camgirl series out soon!! <3

i’m sorry if this seems like such a rushed abrupt ending but i wanted to finish this in time for christmas :)

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo Ending Four: Little Omega

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.

WARNINGS: yandere themes, blood

Note: This is very late and not very good, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless! 

The zoo was bathed in a pale white under the glow of the full moon. You had never been here this late and you were beginning to believe it was a bad idea. The lions and hyenas had kept you, and you had to feed the wolves still.

The door to the exhibit creaked noisily as you opened it, carrying a bucket of steaks. You had to hurry, the zoo had already closed an hour ago. 

Unsurprisingly, Jack was waiting for you. He paced in front of the door and, when it opened, he turned to face you with childlike excitement.

You laughed at his expression and pulled a steak out of the bucket, handing it over to him. “Look, Jack, I have to be fast tonight…”

Jack looked offended.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you guys,” you reassured him, “I’m just running late.”

You peered around the clearing, not surprised to see it deserted, “Where are the other wolves then? Are they in the woods or down by the river?”

Jack looked startled, “He didn’t tell you?”

“Who didn’t tell me what?” you blinked, confused.

Staring at the ground as though thinking something over, Jack finally said, “I take you to them. Follow me.”

“Okay!” you said cheerfully. You held the bucket in both hands as you followed Jack into the woods.

You were a little nervous to face the other wolves again. They didn’t seem to like you much, but you secretly trusted Jack to defend you if necessary.

The trek through the woods was a long one, since you kept tripping over exposed tree roots the deeper in you got. Finally, it opened up into a clearing overlooking the river.

“What the hell happened here?”

Copious amounts of blood coated the tree trunks, the large rock, and the grass of the clearing. The grass itself was soaked in it, turned entirely red in patches. There were streaks of blood as if something was dragged and the rock had an ominous dark patch as though someone’s head had been bashed against it.

You stared at the horrifying display, unable to scream like you so desperately wanted to due to the lack of air in your lungs. Seeing all the red made you feel as though the air had been punched out of you.

“Jack, what happened?” you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jack stared blankly at you, “They hurt you.”

“SO YOU KILLED THEM?” you screamed.

Jack looked like a kicked puppy, his ears flat against his head as he ducked, as though afraid you might hit him. A surge of guilt ran through you before you remembered what he did.

“This is insane,” you murmured, “Are all of them dead?”

“Yes,” Jack replied.

It was all so brutal… you felt yourself shutting down, gasping for breath as though there was little oxygen left in the air. Jack did this? Sweet Jack who followed you around like a lost puppy?

“Are you going to kill me?” you whimpered.

His eyes went wide, “No!”

Tears began to flow freely from your eyes and you let out a small sob. Sure, you hadn’t liked the other wolves much, but to think they were all dead…

“I need to go,” you whispered, dropping the bucket of steaks and running blindly back through the woods. You tripped over a tree root and went sprawling across the grass. To your horror, even here there were streaks of blood inches from your face, as though someone had been injured but tried to escape.

You picked yourself back up, feeling sick, and ran across the clearing to the exhibit door. You pulled hard on the handle but it refused to move. Suddenly, the floodlights to the zoo turned off, bathing you in moonlight alone.

Someone’s doing this. You realized quickly. It’s an electric lock, so someone manually locked the door from the control center.

Tearfully, you turned around and found yourself face to face with Jack. He looked like Christmas had come early.

His large hand took your smaller one into his own, his claws carefully moved out of the way so they did not scrape your skin. He examined your hand closely, intrigued by what he saw.

“Omega,” he supplied eagerly.

“Huh?”

“My little omega,” he crooned, a look on his face you’d never seen before. His pupils were dilated, eyes wide open, and a little drool ran down his chin. He leaned in close, trapping you against the door, and took a deep sniff of your scent.

“Mate,” he said, “My mate.”

“Jack, let me go,” you demanded as you tried to extract your hand from his tightening grip. But it was far too late, he had gone positively feral. His tail wagged and his ears were pricked, his dilated pupils trained on your face.

Suddenly, he lunged forward, sinking his fangs into your neck. You screamed like a banshee in both pain and surprise. You tried to push him away, but his fangs only sunk deeper. You wept bitterly, unable to push him off of you.

“My mate,” Jack pulled free of your neck and grinned down at you with bloody teeth, “Your turn.” He tilted his head to give you free access to his own neck.

Some sort of weird mating ritual… you realized quickly. You opened your mouth and pointed at your teeth, “I don’t have fangs, Jack.”

Jack didn’t look particularly bothered by this fact and merely reached down and picked you up, ignoring your squeak of fear. He held you like a baby, curling his claws into your skin, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to give a warning.

He headed back through the forest and entered a cave near the civilians’ path. It had one glass wall, so guests could see into the massive cave.

Come morning, they’d see one wolf and one broken human resting inside.

[skulkingfoxes]

A post-mortem of "Good Morning, Rose"

A few weeks ago, I posted my addition to the comic anthology GLIMM*R, a short comic called "Good Morning, Rose".

The reaction to it has been so uplifting and exciting. It really seemed to struck a cord with people, which, really, the best thing for me to hear as a creator. I absolutely love writing and making short comics, you can do much with so little, explore such interesting stories. The feedback I've gotten has been very heartwarming! It makes me want to explore short stories even more!

But, first, I want to talk about some of my feelings and about the process of making "Good Morning, Rose". This got a bit long, so you'll have to indulge me a bit. You should also read the comic first before reading this. Don't worry, it's only 8 pages.

Now the preamble is out of the way, lets go back to the beginning.

The idea of "Good Morning, Rose" was a nugget in my brain for a long time! Originally it was actually from the Dreamwalker's point of view, where she was a faceless entity who had a long term relationship with Rose and was trying to figure out how to explain that their relationships only were in Rose's dreams. It was a story about seeing, accepting, and loving each other truly and fully, and the trials and tribulations of getting there. Also a cute girl with an ancient eldrich being is always fun to explore.

A lot of it was too convoluted, emotionally and storywise. It also required to get into what the Dreamwalker actually was, which I ended up really not liking. So, ultimately, the idea didn't work, and I put it down. I ended up going to do my short comic Twigs instead.

When I was invited into the wlw anthology GLIMM*R and was told that the theme was "dreams", I decided to take another stab at the concept. This time, I inverted the pov, it's now Rose's story. And instead of a long term relationship, it was about the powerful first feeling of a perfect (maybe even too perfect?) first date.

One of the hardest thing to write in romance is getting readers to care about the relationship in the first place. To have the readers believe in the character's feeling, to be invested in their romance. This is even harder to do when you only have 8 pages to do it. Focusing it around a first date helped a lot in that case. There I'm not trying to sell that these two character will love each other forever and forever, just the fluttering first butterflies of realizing you're developing feeling for someone. It's why I leave it so open-ended about whether the two of them meet again at the end of the comic, or even if it was real in the first place. It's just not the point of the story.

That's something important about writing short stories, I find. You really have to hone in on an idea, on a thought. Take a simple idea and try to find all of the interesting layers. It's too easy to try to stuff a short story with too many ideas that ultimately go unfulfilled. In fact, the first draft of the comic, at the time called "Dream Date", there was a big problem with this and the pacing.

Here, take a look at the first stab at the roughs:

(BTW, there is something so fun about roughs for me lol. The art is so kinetic and loose, all about just getting the story across)/

As you can see, a lot of the ideas and imagery made to the final version of the comic. But both the initial readers and I agreed that the beginning and end were good, but the middle was messy and slowed things down. You can also see that I got stuck in the same problem I did when I first conceived of the story, it's bogged down trying to understand the Dreamwalker in a way that actually hurts the story. You simply dont have any room for bad pacing a short comic like this. I need to focus more on the character's and their emotions and exploring their actual relationship rather than blandly trying to explain the situation. A friend also suggested that I should hone in on the fluid dream-like aspects of the first couple of pages, especially since it's so fun to explore in the medium of comics. So I got to work gutting it out and trying again with the new, much stronger imo, direction.

Also there were some issues with the page format that needed changes for printing, thus the final spread had to be split up. Which is a shame, but oh well, it still works. I also honed in a lot more on Rose and her insecurities. I ended up putting a lot of myself into Rose. I'm glad readers seems to able to relate to her.

After figuring out the the story and the pacing, I went and, well, made the comic. Once you've done as many comic pages I have at this point, once you figure out a process, the actual drawing is fairly straightforward. Eventually, after thinking, and drawing, and toiling, and revising, and thinking hard about my life choices, I come out of the other end of the tunnel with a comic. One that I ended up really liking. One that other people ended up liking, which is always crazy to me.

I got a lot of interesting reactions to the comic. One demographic thinking it was sweet, wanting more of it (always a flattering thought), and enjoying the romance. Other remarking on the bittersweetness of it all, finding your soulmate in a dream, maybe never to see them again if they were even real in the first place. There were a lot of people remarking how they had a similar dream, one where they met someone they seemed totally and completely convinced that they were real and told the dreamer so, until the dreamer woke up. There was one person who asked if I had met the dreamwalker myself. Alas, my dreams are not this romantic and straightforward.

But all of us can hold hands, nod at each other, united by one universally true statement: big eldritch lady hot.

There's a lot of little bits I can talk about, like how Rose's dress is actively modeled after selkie dresses because I think they're cute, or some other trials and tribulations. But I think I've finished all I have had to say. I hope you enjoyed this and will stick around for my future projects! I definitely want to explore more short stories in the next year, especially as I am illustrating big graphic novels for my day job and don't have the time or energy for huge projects.

Till then, thank you so much! Happy holidays and have a good new year!

[fangel]

always, attic angel — jake [ 심재윤 ]

synopsis : jake’s hidden secret isn’t so secret anymore, but he’ll go to great lengths to keep it. he reaches his breaking point when faced with betrayal. he relinquishes any remaining sense of sanctity, surrendering to everything he's spent his life trying to suppress. ⇀ read part 1 here ⸝⸝ updated playlist

pairing : jake sim x fem. reader featuring : heeseung genre : psychological thriller, smut, yandere word count : 7.7k content advisory : dark content ⚠︎ sexually explicit content, obsessive!jake, possessive!jake, jake in general, corrupt!reader, choking, dubcon, somnophilia, spanking, unprotected sex, stockholm syndrome, religious themes and concepts, violence, blood, mentions of homicide/death, open ending - mostly proofread

“can you keep a secret?”

jake wasn’t only asking heeseung the literal question, but he was questioning himself. how long could he realistically hide you away? were you, his sacred secret, something that he could actually keep? he’s thought about it a lot. often losing hours in a day just going over the agonizing idea of not.

heeseung at a loss for words, just watches jake’s body language. jake is like nothing he’s ever seen before. jay and sunghoon have brought up jake’s odd behavior with concern, but he always brushed it off. now heeseung is here to witness it himself, stunned with his brows furrowed and a mouth opening and closing, looking for words he can’t find. he looks back up to the top of staircase, the room that he knows is occupied with someone. hundreds of questions flood his mind but he doesn’t know where to begin. 

“jake,” he says quietly, eyes darting from the door up the stairs and to the boys huddled in the living room. “what did you do? who is here?” even if jake did have a girlfriend, or just someone he’s been seeing, why would he need to act this way? with the way the air feels around them, heeseung is sure that there’s much more going on. and whatever it could be, was far from good. 

jake still can’t look at heeseung. he just stares to the floor with a death grip on heeseung. his breathing picks up in slow, deep heaves. he holds onto his hyung like a lifeline. heeseung feels genuine dread. the chill he feels run through his body makes every hair stand up. he wants to pull away from jake, to go investigate before the others get nosy or cause a scene. but he can’t. his instincts are telling him that if he moves too quickly that jake will break.  

“jake… if i go up there—” he begins to say slowly, quietly. and that’s when jake looks up at heeseung. his eyes look wild, almost like they’re threatening him. heeseung swallows hard, sensing that maybe he is silently threatening him. 

heeseung tries to step back but jake only digs his nails into the flesh of heeseung’s arm. he hisses at the sting and attempts to tug his arm away from the hold. jake’s strength is something heeseung never knew he had; he thinks that jake might just fucking break his arm at the elbow right here and now. 

through clenched teeth, jake seethes under his breath, “i’ll explain, but get them all out of my house first. and i swear to god if you tell another soul you’ll be buried out back too.” 

what the fuck, is all heeseung can think. his eyes wide from the venomous threat. he complies with jake out of fear. these were treacherous waters and he wasn’t going to test it out by diving in. especially with the tension growing too thick and too fast for heeseung to waste any time. 

jake follows heeseung to the living, standing behind him, watching and listening. he doesn’t say a word as his older friend handles the situation. he just shifts on his feet while staring into the back of heeseung’s head.

heeseung stumbles over his words, nervously attempting a lie to get the rest of the boys to leave. the words catching in his throat that he masks with a cough whenever one of them makes a questioning expression. 

although disoriented and perturbed, they all listen to heeseung. heeseung being obviously troubled with something serious made them gather their things with haste. they were rushing out to the car in minutes with no questions asked. there were many to be had, but they assumed they would find out eventually. 

jake and heeseung watch as they drive away, from the front door. neither of them say a word even when the vehicle is out of sight. the taillights fading into the snowscape treeline of gravel road is all to be heard and seen. 

there’s a pregnant pause before jake closes the door and locks it, all 5 different locks. heeseung raises a brow, stepping back slowly. his eyes watching as jake stuffs the ring of keys into his front hoodie pocket. he makes note of it. 

jake, still yet to utter a word, just walks into the living room area to clean up the leftover mess. heeseung, unsure of what to do, just helps in stillness. the tv remains a static screen displaying no signal: (1) check the cable connections and settings of your source device. the kitchen oven light flickers every so often. and the darkness of the night bleeds into the house. it’s eerily quiet between them. 

after some time, there’s a slow creak of a door to be heard. both of the boys heads shoot upward and down the hallway. layla trots away from them and sits at the end of staircase. her head tilted, ears raised, and mouth open in what would be interpreted as a smile. 

slow footsteps make their way down. the space between each creaking step of the wooden floorboards shows how apprehensive and timorous you are. once halfway down, there’s a pause. you’re standing there, waiting for a noise or response from jake. you saw the group of his friends leave, but there was still another car parked outside. and after waiting for so long, listening to silence, you had to see why jake hadn’t come up to see you, to tell you it’s safe to come out. 

jake stands from his crouched position, dropping the wet wipe he was just using to clean the low coffee table. he throws off his jacket to the edge of the couch. there’s a clink of the cluttered keys, but only heeseung hears it. jake’s already in tunnel vision. he gives heeseung a daring glare before walking away to meet you halfway. heeseung sits down on the couch, his hands folded over his lap while his leg picks up an anxious bounce. he looks at the pocket of the abandoned material. a glimmer of metals peak through the opening. 

jake walks up the stairs that you stand in the middle of, layla hot on his trail. he gives you a small smile as he places his hands on your shoulders to turn your body back around. “i didn’t tell you when to come out, did i?” he whispers with small anger, trying to keep his tone light but what’s deeper surfaces regardless. 

you very rarely made jake angry. a feeling of disappointment envelops you like instinct. as if you had to feel bad for going against him. 

“i’m sorry i made a noise,” you mumble, “i got excited when i heard them mention me.” it’s an honest admission. you turn your head back to jake and your guilt drops to something empty. the color fades from your face when you see him. he looks disgusted. “i-i’m sorry, i-” your mouth open and mind trying to find the right thing so say. 

he grabs the back of your neck and begins to walk forward, forcing your body back up to the bedroom. you stumble over your feet, nearly falling. his footsteps stomp against the wooden stairs. his hold on you is squeezing with fingers pressing into the sides of your throat. you want to cough away the feeling but decide on struggling to remain quiet instead. someone is still here. i promised to behave. 

when back in the room, he shoves you forward with the release of his grip. the door slams behind him. you lose balance but catch your own feet, your ankle shooting in a great affliction that you’ve become accustomed to ignore. your hands reach for your throat to massage the ache. you whimper at the touch. 

“it was a perilous decision, making you my attic angel.” his heavy footsteps march forward. he picks you up from under your arms and tosses you onto the bed. you bounce slightly before gathering yourself. you push yourself back into the corner of the bed, hugging your knees to tuck into your body, like you’re protecting yourself. you watch as he places his knee onto the bed, his hands too, leaning towards you. “i am trying so hard, so why isn’t it enough?” his head shakes in disbelief. “i’m just not enough for you? you want everyone to see you, to know you. why? as if they would need or love you as much as i do.” the last sentence is a scoff, spat with hate. he just stares at you with a tilt to his head. you feel that he’s mocking you in some way with his ridiculous words. 

tears brim your eyes, your hands forming small fists that tremble in a rage you’ve always felt within you. “i never asked you to.” your words are firm, a tight lip frown wears your face. you want to argue that this isn’t love and he’s just a sick man, but you don’t want to spill more tears over him. you’ve been drained enough.

jake’s face flashes with an array of emotions. his fingers curl into the blankets so tight his knuckles turn white. he looks irated and dejected, but mostly broken.

“you didn’t have to.” his face is a scowl, glaring at you for the first time. how could his attitude change so quickly? “you wanted me, and now you have me. let it be enough.” he pushes himself off the bed and picks up the metal cuff chain from the floor with one hand. you instantly try to scramble up off the bed but he’s faster; he takes your bruised, weakened ankle in his free hand to drag you into him. you yelp with agony, trying to kick your leg around in a struggle that would hopefully prevent the entrapment. but he secures it onto you with a low growl, warning you that your actions have been enough. 

with a burning gaze, he pushes you back down onto the bed before making strides to the door. he’s never been so blatantly mean towards you. it hurts far more than you could’ve ever expected. you slide yourself off the bed with urgency, tripping up behind him. you want to cry so badly, but you also want to show you’re stronger than he allows you to be. your hands reach for him to grab at the back of his shirt, a try of pulling him back from the door. “take it off! take it off now!” you stomp your metal clad foot, the chain rattles against the floor. 

layla begins to bark loudly from the other side of the door. her paws scratch at the closed white wood. 

jake spins around with your raised voice and slaps his hand over your mouth, “shut the fuck up!” he whispers with heated aggression. his other hand grabbing the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair and craning your neck back to look at him. crazed eyes stare into yours like they want to rip you apart. you can no longer help it now, tears escape and wash down to meet his hand. your entire body is now shaking in fear. “angel, i thought i taught you better than this… haven’t you made yourself known enough tonight?” he softens in tone, but his expression and hands don’t match. they’re strong, keeping you still. 

you shake your head frantically under his hold. his large hand taking up half your face, making it hard to breathe. your mouth and nose only taking in larger breaths of air that just isn’t sufficient. fat tears run down your face as you continue to shout muffled pleas into his palm. 

“take it off!” 

“let me go!” 

“stop, stop!” 

“help me!” it’s a deadened attempt of a shrill scream.

it’s all lost against his skin. you try to slap his hand and arms off of you but it’s to no avail. you’re simply too feeble to put up the fight you want to. you’ll always be overpowered by man. 

his hold doesn’t let up. he just watches you struggle in blazing silence. your lungs losing oxygen make you see bright white stars scatter your vision. the burning tears only make it all the more hazy. your body feels weak, like it’s about to collapse in on itself. is this what it’s like to lose consciousness? weird, it feels kind of good. you use all your strength to keep your eyes open, but they blink slowly to a close. 

“please.” is the final beg to be said against his palm.

“i love you.” is the final words he promises before it all goes black. 

　 　　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

 　when jake finally comes downstairs, he looks like he’s seen a ghost. 

heeseung—who was in the kitchen—heard jake’s descent with the settling creaks of the house’s floors, returns to the couch. he nervously watches jake, who was yet to look over at him, as he stuffs something back into the hoodie that jake left behind before going up to that room. 

jake just stands at the bottom of the staircase with a dead stare, eyes unblinking and unfocused. he looks pale, stuck in a state that heeseung is not ready to approach or question. heeseung heard nearly everything from upstairs. it was jarring, and enough evidence to understand that the house is dangerous for everyone in it. 

to think that he’s been here before without a clue of what was happening behind closed doors makes his skin crawl. he never could have imagined that his own friend, or himself, would get wrapped up in a scenario like this. was it all merely a matter of time? 

heeseung slowly stands up. due to the silence, even the slight sound of movement has jake’s heard turn in a split second to his friend's direction. 

unknowing of what to do, heeseung just stays still like a deer in headlights. frightful in nature as if he was the one to be caught in the wrong place. he’s frozen under the cold, black eyes that bore into him. 

jake stalks over to heeseung slowly. the unbreaking eye contact and lack of words sends chills through the older male. the kitchen oven light hums in the background, and it’s all to be heard. jake places himself on the other couch in the living room. the light flickers off and on again when heeseung follows jake’s actions, sitting once more. 

“i’ve never hurt her before,” his tone hostile, as if to defend himself from whatever he was imagining that heeseung was thinking, “not physically at least, i don’t think.” 

heeseung feels a cold sweat take over. his palms sweaty, squeezing his own thighs for a sense of stability. this can’t be real. he couldn’t process any of this. how could this be what jake is? he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and gnaws with anxiety. eyes trained on the intense presence before him. 

jake speaks up again, his voice breaking like he’s about to cry, “she looked at me so.. she looked terrified of me, seung. and i made her cry again.” jake has his elbows resting on his knees, his head hung low with hands fisted in his hair. he pulls on his dark locks in distress. 

heeseung glances from jake to the front door. then back to jake. and then the staircase. and then the front door again before going back to jake. he feels like his lungs are going to burst, his breathing something he now has to force himself to manually maintain. 

“but fuck, man!” jake hits himself in the head once, twice, three times. his smack echoing through the room, sending shivers of panic through heeseung each time. “i-i can’t think! what the hell am i supposed to do!?” there’s a pause. “i want to be good for her. she’s supposed to help me but i’m getting worse everyday.” his hands drag down over his face, covering it. 

“jake, i don’t know—”, heeseung’s voice didn’t reach. 

“i went to church. i prayed. i couldn’t confess though. i was too cowardly to say what ill thoughts consumed me.” jake looks up to heeseung with tears in his eyes, “too cowardly to admit to what i’ve done. i want to be clean, man. but i am full of greed, lust, and wrath. i can wash my hands over and over, but i still remember the feeling. a damned confession wouldn’t take the weight of that away.” he laughs lowly, shaking his head. a hand lazily wiping his tears from his face. “and i see it every night. the stains that painted me, that should’ve made me feel dirty. it didn’t.” 

heeseung needs to get the fuck of here now. he can’t keep up with jake’s insane behavior or confession. this has gone far beyond his expectations; his flight or fight instincts are screaming that this is unsafe territory. 

“but when i have her, it’s not so bad. i can’t--i can’t have you getting in the way, or anything, anyone else, for that matter.” jake is hanging on by a thread, it’s clear. he was going to snap soon. “do you understand that?”

heeseung nods his head but can’t bring himself to say a word. 

“well say it, damn it! say ‘jake, i won’t get in the way.’” his voice loud, demanding. 

“jake,” he stands on shaking legs, “i won’t get in your way. i w-won’t say a thing. this has nothing to do with me, man.” his hands up in a defending position as he makes brave steps that lead to the front of the house. “you can trust me…” 

“i hope so, or you’ll end up like her parents… somewhere in the back of those woods to feed the maggots.” 

heeseung nods again then darts for the door and out to his car. he wastes no time in getting far away from that nightmare. as he starts the car, he looks up to the window at the highest point of the house. the light is off and there is no face peaking through with hope. heeseung exhales deeply. he recalls the smile jake wore with his leaving statement. closing his eyes, he knows that he is no hero, and certainly won’t be made a victim. 

but, he also isn’t someone to do nothing. so, he’ll leave for now. 

　 　　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

 　jake’s mind is in a whirlwind. he needs to release the weight of everything that’s suffocating him from the inside. he feels as if all his organs have corroded and are crawling up his esophagus, like hundreds of little centipede feet, only to get stuck in his throat. 

he doesn’t even recognize how he got back to the bedroom since heeseung’s escape; unable to realize that some has passed. 

he stands in the middle of room, blinking his eyes back to a state of awareness. he was watching you sleep in the bed he placed you in. or perhaps he was just looking through you. he made you pass out in and from his own hands. he despised himself for it, and how it gave him a sense of god-like power. 

jake moves towards the bed and creeps in next to you. his hands find a place on your hips to pull you on top of him. the subtle movement of your chest and small breaths assure him of your liveness. he hugs you close like that for a minute.

his fingers trail up and down your body, squeezing and caressing his favorite parts of you. they stop at your ass, full in his hands he begins to move your body back and forth. his growing cock pressing up into your pussy, grinding with the maneuver. the back of his throat releases a soft, guttural sound. 

his large hands slip up your night dress and pull your underwear to the side. he runs a finger along your folds, feeling every detail of your womanhood. the callosed tips rub over your core until a layer of wetness leaks through.   

you shift on top of him, not awake, but subconsciously sensing an uncomfortable intrusion. a small noise leaves your lips, something of a whine. 

“i know you’re not all there. you’re too compliant with all i’ve done. you listen too well.” he’s whispering against the side of your face. his free hand working to take off his pants and boxer briefs. “you’re like me.” he licks a strip up your face, wet saliva leaving a trail. you stir again, face scrunching before rubbing onto jake’s shirt. 

he grins at you, thinking you’re cute all out of it and on top of him. his eyes find the teeth marks on your shoulder. the thin spaghetti strap of your dress falling from it, revealing full sight to the scarring mark of his possession. “i can sink my teeth into you and you will do nothing but watch me lick it clean. and you would still let me hold you. kiss you. and,” he’s rubbing his leaking cock against your pussy, humping up into you so the head dips in and out. “fuckkk.” he moans, feeling himself being teased with the enveloping of your creamy, warm hole. 

you make another tired, bothered sound with eyes squeezed shut. 

“possibly i have let you think of me as tender, but i will prove to you i am everything but.” he thrusts his hips upwards, his cock pushing into your tight core. he moans at the feeling of you wrapped around him, hugging him with wet heat. “i’ve always had these tainted thoughts with me. i could never admit to anyone, or myself, what i longed for.” his arms are wrapped around you, holding you close. his legs propped up, knees bent and feet pressed down to the bed, as he begins a brutal pace to pound himself in and out of you. 

your eyes open along with your mouth, a sound in between a moan and gasp leaves your lips. you look up to the man who is fucking you, confused and disoriented. you feel a deep pain between your legs and in the bottom of your stomach. you try to pull yourself back, to sit up, but jake grounds you to his chest. 

“i prayed for all the disturbed thinking to come to an end. my mind became more grotesque, morbid.” he looks at you and all you see is misery. his eyes are so empty yet he forces a smile. “i am haunted like a sick man.” i know, you think. your head rests tucked by his chin and neck. you just watch him, letting your body make little moans and chases to his touch like it’s trained to. “i always wanted more. i didn’t want to just think it, i wanted to do it all.” 

“mhmm.” your eyes blink slowly, watching the faces of pleasure he makes through your eyelashes. maybe this is all a dream, you imagine wishfully. 

“i stopped praying a long time ago, yet kept stepping into god’s house. i knew something, someone, would come for me.” he grunts, squeezing the skin on your back to bruises. his trusts become messy as squelching sounds of your pussy. skin slaps and fragmented noises come from the both of you. “in the bible; tell me, angel, who did god send to fulfill all his obligations?” he nibbles on your ear. sometimes licking and leaving his spit coating it. 

him pistoning his cock at his assaulting speed and force, elicits a loud mewl from you. you wish he would fuck you even harder. violent enough that it rattles your brain and body senseless. you don’t want to think at all, just want to see those stars again. 

jake is pissed when you ignore his question. one of his hands slides up your back while the other moves down to slap your ass. you whine at the sting. he grabs the back of your neck like he did earlier and you can’t help but grin a little. he yanks your head back and your body sits up on top of him. he feels so deep inside of you. you hum at the feeling, not even realizing your hand drops down to rub over your lower stomach. 

you still wear the faint grin on your lips as you look down at him. “hm?” 

“who carried out his judgements, served punishments, and set examples?” he fucks into you slower, focusing on your body. noticing how your hips move in small swivels and bounces on his cock. how your nipples peek through in needy points of the thin material. 

he gives your ass another slap and your head tips back with a moan, “ngh, the angels.” 

he squeezes your neck from behind at your response. your eyes rolls back as you continue to fuck yourself down onto him in severity. a slutty sound leaving you with every kiss of his dick to your cervix. 

“yes,” he pulls you back down to his face. his hand is still tight around your neck, borderline suffocating in pressure. “and he sent one to me too.” he feels your pussy pulse around him, signaling you’re close to cumming. “he sent you to me. but instead of learning a lesson i became obsessed just as my thoughts.” jake always had a dangerous personality, hiding inside of him. his obsessions becoming an illness was nothing he should be shocked by. or maybe it’s the other way around and he was always sick so he became it. “i so badly wanted you to be my savior… to tell me lies of purity and goodness.” he feels his cock throb, aching to release. he chases the feeling of pure want, pounding relentlessly into you. 

“open your mouth,” he demands with a low growl. you listen without a second thought and he spits into it. his saliva meeting your tongue only to be swallowed down. 

he pressed a kiss to your lips while you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure as you cum. your body collapses on top of his like an act of defeat. your breathing so ragged and lungs suffering; jake releases his hold on your neck only to use both hands on your hips to bounce your body on him. 

while your body makes small quivers in overstimulation, jake groans loudly as he cums inside of you. as you feel the deep warmth coat your insides, a sense of drowsiness takes over you. 

“i feel like a besotted rot has taken over me, and it’s been growing evermore since i met you.” he whispers, relaxing his body flat against the bed. with you still on top of him and his cock still buried in you with his seed, he hugs you. “it’s killing me from the inside out. you’re going to kill me. i can feel it.” 

the quiet and gentle honesty of his fearful ending confession lulls you to sleep. 

he continues to fuck you until he’s too tired to not. 

　 　　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝　　 　　⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

 　when you wake up the next morning, you feel your entire body is in pain. there’s a throbbing pain in your head, a dull strain in your neck, and a heavy ache in between your legs. 

you sigh as you sit your body up, hands place slightly behind you at your sides. you make slow circles of your head to stretch your neck muscles. there’s a pang of sharp pain for a split second but you relax once reversing the movements around. 

with lazy eyes, you scan the surroundings of the bedroom. the sun shines bright through the thin lace, white curtains. the clock reads that it is half past 10 in the morning. on the white, wooden night stand beside the bed is a note, a cup of water, and a plate of cut up fruit that has probably been out longer than intended. the door is slightly cracked open and the cold, heavy weight is missing from around your ankle. 

you stretch your arms and back before leaning over to chug down the glass of water. you think of eating the fruit presented for you, but decide on not. it's hard to have an appetite these days. 

you move yourself to sit at the end of the bed, legs and feet dangling off the mattress. you realize how quiet the house is. normally, jake is always with you when he’s home. if he’s working from home then he is next to you, or at least at the desk with his work laptop. but it’s saturday, so why would he be working? 

“jake!” you call out his name, but there is no response. your voice doesn’t sound like normal, it’s rough. you call for him again and still there is nothing. only layla comes up the stairs to push past the door. she too looks confused. 

you look outside the large window next to the bed and realize that his car isn’t there either. 

you look back to the nightstand, remembering there was a note left for you. you pick it up and read: had to run out. i will be back soon. rest and eat well, angel. 

with the note in your hand, you squeeze your hand into a fist, crushing and crinkling the paper in your palm. you stare at the destroyed paper, enclasped in your hand, before releasing your fist and letting it fall to the floor. 

the sound of a car driving makes you turn around. you don’t know if it’s annoyance or ease that washes over you. but once your eyes see the car, you know that it’s neither. because it’s not jake’s car that you see outside. you can recognize it’s one from the other night though. 

you’re quick to stand up and make your way over to the side of the clear glass. you peek over the side of the window, suddenly not comfortable to be seen. is it because you know jake isn’t here? your heart rate picks up rather quick, along with a feeling of anxiety. who is here? why? 

a tall man with dark, brownish.. no reddish hair, steps out of the now parked vehicle. he glances around before jogging over to the side of the house. you furrow your brows in confusion, wondering what he could be doing. you bite at your lip, trying to look around the house as much as the window allows.

then you walk over to the bedroom door and close it quietly, leaving you and layla inside. you lean your back to the door and slide down to the floor. your ear presses against the wood, listening to anything that you can. there isn’t much to be heard for a minute or so. and then there is. there’s a landing thud from somewhere downstairs. a clashing of objects hit the floor with it. something like a glass bowl or cup, if you had to assume. you can tell it’s coming from the kitchen based on the direction alone. 

your heart beats harder now and you don’t even realize how your hands hold a small tremble. you’re frozen in place; you don’t know what to do. jake always tells you what to do. he tells how to handle situations, how to react, how to respond. 

the footsteps of the intruder are rushed. quick feet move through the house and up to the stairs, only to stop right outside the door that you’re in front of. you feel a dangerous panic coarse through you, and unknown to you, you’re holding your breath as if it could give you away. 

seconds feel like minutes followed by a knock at the door. it’s slow and just as scared as you are. 

you place your hands over your mouth, silencing yourself from uttering a sound or a word. meanwhile layla lets out a guarded growl. you shake your head as you look at her, as if she could understand the notion. 

“i know you’re in there. i’m here… i’m here to help you.” the voice is sweet, familiar. it’s a friend of jake that’s been here before. he must have been the one who stayed longer than he should’ve last night. 

for some reason, you still remain silent. why would he come back? 

“i don’t know what exactly is going on between you two, but i know when something isn’t right. and jake isn’t…” his voice goes soft. he’s worried and nervous. 

“he isn’t what?” heeseung hears your melodic voice, weak yet defensive. 

“can you open the door? i don’t know how much time we have.” the door knob turns but doesn’t push open. it’s not locked. you both know it, but neither of you bring yourself to break the barrier. 

you stand from the door, your legs uneasy as if a baby fawn learning to walk. you grab the door handle with a timid hand. you turn it slowly and pull back the door just a crack. you look up with wide eyes. you’re face to face with someone other than jake for the first time in what feels like forever. someone is finally seeing you, talking to you, acknowledging your existence. why isn’t it as exciting as you anticipated? 

heeseung gapes at your disheveled appearance. his eyes quick to find the many bruises that litter your body, from your neck to your arms and legs. then to the scarred bite mark that’s discolored and horrid along your shoulder. and lastly over your face: dry, bitten lips and dark circles around your sad eyes. “i’m sorry.” is all heeseung can say. you think his voice sounds disappointed. 

“why? it’s not like you did anything.” you pull the door open a little more, unintentionally though. it furthered the exposure of the room when your hand pulled back to wrap around yourself. your eyes scan over his face, taking in the up close new appearance. you think he’s very cute for a second before a dread of guilt becomes you. you wrap your arms tighter around your midriff, as if to conceal what you’ve begged to be seen. you avert your eyes from his, suddenly embarrassed. 

heeseung steps into the room, and you step back. your eyes watch his feet. it feels like you weren’t given the permission to look at him; like you’ve already overstepped jake’s boundaries and broken his rules by seeing and speaking what you already have. yet your heart races with adrenaline. 

“that’s the problem. i didn’t do anything the minute i knew something was wrong.” 

it’s nice to hear something rational for once.  

“i tried to come up with some sort of plan as soon as i could. he left and i found his keys,” you immediately look up at heeseung when he mentions the object you fantasize about. keys. unlocked cage. freedom. “i figured the kitchen window would be the less susceptible.” he attempts a laugh but it’s clearly full of nerves. his eyes dart from you to the outside window. it reminds you of yourself. that feeling of waiting for jake, always mixed with too many emotions to really decipher. 

“but for real, you need to get a jacket and shoes on. we have to leave right now.” heeseung deadpans. his eyes watching yours that refuse to look back. you just stand still in the room, shaking like a leaf in the wind. your focus trained to the floor, spacing out from the scenario. 

“is this real?” your voice is quiet, unsure. “did jake put you up to this to test me? i don’t want to cause more trouble with him. i don’t like when he’s…”

heeseung begins to frantically search the room. he goes to the closet and shifts through the hanging clothes for the thickest jacket he can find. he grabs a big one with faux fur lining and heavy material, “put this on. where are your socks?” he hands it to you but you just hold it low in your hands, letting it hit the floor. he opens drawers of the dresser nearby, finding a pair of socks. 

still spacing out, feeling dreamlike, you sit down at the edge of the bed. the large winter coat still hands in your fingers, half over your lap and exposed legs. 

heeseung crouches down in front of you with socks in hand and a pair of boots by his side. he looks up at you with despairing eyes, but you just watch the floor below him. i should sweep the floors. there’s dog hair and dust everywhere. 

trepidatious, large and unknown hands pick up your foot. the cold fingers brush over your abused ankle. a sick feeling of flutters fills your stomach, you jerk your leg back from his touch. this isn’t right. something like a stray cat who doesn’t let strangers touch. 

“what happened to this?” he lightly taps the bone, “you need to see a doctor.” he tries again but faster this time. gentle hands pulling the sock over your foot and then the other. next he reaches for the boots to put your feet into. “come on, get the jacket on.” he says as he stands, a hand reaching out to you. you stand from the bed and ignore the offered gesture. 

you take a few steps forward and stop. heeseung takes notice of the slight limp in your walk. his eyes follow the floor from your feet and that's when he sees it. the long silver chain that’s attached to the bedpost, mounted to the floorboards. 

“jesus fucking christ…” he exhales, taking the coat from your hands to put it on you himself. 

“i used to try and break that whenever i had the chance, but i ended up hurting myself in the process.” you laugh a little. he sees your blank stare and lost smile. “he would ice my ankle for me though. and he wrapped it up, changing the bandages everyday when it was worse.” 

“i’m gonna get you somewhere safe.” heeseung promises, taking your hand in his own to lead you to the door. “you won’t have to live like this anymore, okay? do you have more family somewhere, someone we could call?” heeseung is doing his best to remain calm, but inside he senses immense uneasiness. you can feel how his palms are sweaty and holding too tight of you. you don’t like it. 

“my parents…” it’s a whisper. he helps you down the stairs and to the kitchen. your heart feels like it's a ticking time bomb set to explode. each beat a warning that screams louder and louder.

“well, how about anyone else.” there’s consternation. 

you stop in your tracks, heeseung tries to pull you forward. his eyes begging to leave through the window he left open for you two. “why anyone else?” you question. you feel heavy again, a boil builds in your body, your heart racing faster than you know it was capable. your breathing becomes quick and panicked. heaves and wheezes now leaving your body. “what? w-what do you m-mean?!” 

“they… jake, he…” heeseung stammers, his head moving side to side in a slow display of sorrow. he reaches out to you, to pull you into a hug of comfort. 

but you just stand there, unbelieving of what the man is trying to imply to you. “no, no… he wouldn’t—” your bottom lip quivers and eyes sting. 

from the corner of your eyes, you see a dark shadow approaching heeseung from behind. a large object hangs high in the air with the shadow. you let out a blood curdling scream, eyes looking past heeseung. the tall man turns his head around before the held object comes crashing down into the back of his head. heeseung drops to the floor in an instant, his hand slipping out of yours. 

it all happened so fast. 

you’re in a fit of panicked sobs now. your eyes can’t look away from the man who tried to help you; the man you didn’t try to believe in. there’s an open gash in his head, bleeding and matting into the hair. you feel sick. 

your attention is removed from the man when a familiar hard grip pulls on your hair. “where the hell did you think you were going!?” jake’s voice is terribly sad, loud and croaking. he’s dragging you back down the hall and up the stairs to your room. 

“i wasn’t going anywhere!” you squirm around trying to look back at him, “i was never going to leave! i swear!” 

jake sits you down at the chair by the desk, his hands place on your shoulders. he looks down at you with disquiet heartache, “you promise?” he’s fixing to cry. you hate when jake cries. 

you nod your head quickly, still having a panic attack, still frightful and overwhelmed. 

jake swallows hard, staring into your eyes. he’s trying to trust your word, and ultimately he just does. he places a long kiss to your forehead. you feel a drop of wetness land against your skin. and you just sit there, watching him leave the room with hands of shaking fists. 

you hear a lot happening downstairs while you’re glued to the chair. there’s loud commotion and aggressive words being passed between the two. heeseung is still alive. they’re fighting. 

unknowing of what to do, you squeeze your eyes shut. you curl your body inwards and cover your ears, gently rocking yourself back and forth to ease your mind of the chaos. this isn’t real. it’s all a bad dream. it’s another bad story you conjured up. 

and then someone yells. a painful, agonizing noise that you can’t disassociate from. it sends shivers through you. you can’t open your eyes, you can’t leave the room. if you don’t see it then it’s not happening, right? 

the clashing of aggression comes to a halt. and the usual eerily silence of the house stands still. 

a few minutes go by. 

you lift your head and open your eyes when you sense the door being weakly pushed open. 

you gasp and stand up, quickly moving over to jake to help him stand up straight instead of leaning on the door. 

“j-jake…” you’re crying, “hey, wha-what happened?” you’re trying to support his weight but it’s too much. you both somehow manage to make it to the bed. did he do it? did he kill heeseung? 

jake is covered in blood and he’s crying too. he simply shakes his head and presses wet kisses your cheek, pulling you down to lay next to him. he can’t say anything. 

confused and scared, you ask him again, but he doesn’t speak yet. he just holds onto you as tight as his body allows. the blood begins to stain your clothes, the bed sheets and blankets.

he breathes a ragged sigh, looking at you with wet, thick lashes, “i thought god hated me. ya know, for making me the way i am and expecting me to follow him.” he coughs, turning his head away from you, hiding. “but why would he hate me and still give you to me?” he laughs with a small cough, he feels his mouth tinge with metallic iron. 

you watch from the side of his face, crying quietly. then you feel it. the warm, seeping of thick liquid spilling onto you. your eyes track down your body and his, landing on the gash of his shirt. an open wound punctured in his side. a wrecked sound slips past your lips with your cries. 

“even if it was a punishment, you’ll always just be an angel to me.” his head turns back to face you, his mouth painted red with slips of blood passing the corners of his smile. 

you push yourself from his hug, crazed to find some material to wrap around jake and stop the bleeding. but he pulls you back to him, his eyes closing. “h-hey, hey. stop, it’s okay. just hold me close a little longer.” and you do. through all your whimpers, hiccups, and tears. you wrap your entire body into him, legs entangled and arms wrapped never this tight around him before. 

eve was made from adam’s rib. so is it really your fault for wanting to crawl inside the man you’re closest to? 

jake’s breathing is starting to become dangerously slow, along with the pulse of his heartbeat. 

heeseung, who managed to crawl his way up the stairs, waits outside the door. blood is dripping down his face and neck from his head. he coughs, grabbing your attention. 

you sit up just enough to not let go of jake, swollen eyes watching heeseung sit at the edge of the stairs. his body is struggling to stay upward, he wobbles and sways. his eyes not able to stay open. he asks you if you could drive them to the hospital, in hopes that there is still time to save them. 

you don’t take the risk of losing the only family you have left, so you do what he asks.  

 　time passes by in a blur. you end up back at house a day later to take care of layla. jake and heeseung are still in the hospital. you don’t know who will recover or die first.

when you return to the house, you do all the things that jake would normally do. you take layla outside for a walk around the house. you make sure she has food and water. you make yourself a meal that will be left untouched. 

and then you trudge up to your room and you crawl into the blood stained bed. you attach the metal cuff to your ankle, and lay there in silence. you think of praying but end up crying yourself to sleep instead. 

the first man you knew to really sin, not just true nor venially but mortally sin, you can’t help but want to wait for the return of. to be damned with him may be his punishment and your fate, but whatever happens is in gods hands now. maybe it doesn’t really matter anyways because you’ll be his attic angel, always.

© fangel ┊ do not copy, repost, modify or translate my content ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ — feedback and reblogs are appreciated 🗝️ !

꒰ tags & those who asked for part 2 ⸝⸝ if you want removed lmk ꔛ @nshmrarki @enhalxvr @jaengwon @taeminsboogers @beomsdoll @immelissaaa @pshfan0812 @supershy3 @hauntsoul @jenniferecand @randomanothercreature @numnomn @en-heedeungie @hwasangel @thatonedaragirltho @hooneverse @maliakealoha @kon-ss @laybensu @whateveridontcaresheesh @strawberrynull ꒱

[nodutra19]

I dunno if I should even say this given I don't speak Japanese, but the change of "revolutionize the world" here really bothers me.

One of the things I like about Ikuhara is how he creates complex parallelisms, and I think the Black Rose Council is meant to parallel the Student Council, which is why they both speak of revolutionizing the world.

Another thing I like is his "boiling frog" approach. He lures you in with something seemingly nice, and then slowly but surely introduces odder and odder elements, occasionally jarring you until eventually you land yourself somewhere really bizarre. The Black Rose Saga does that very well and marks a shift in tone.

I get the impetus behind the change, but I've always interpreted the use of "revolutionize the world" as ambiguous, and in this case it's really meant to make you question what their revolution even brings. If this underhanded stranger can speak of the same thing as the "heroes," then what is it those heroes actually speak of? This disconcerting man also has a Rose Bride and seeks to usurp the powers that be...

But to what end? If his desire is the same, what does that say of the Student Council, and especially of Utena herself? They both don pink hair and off-puttingly similar Rose Brides, after all, and even similar uniforms. What do they actually want to replace these power structures with? Cuz Mikage just wants his Rose Bride to take Anthy's place and to unlock eternity for himself.

My only translation experience has been through a few songs, but changing a specific phrase like that doesn't seem right to me.

Not only that, but Mikage, and, for the viewer on a rewatch, the Student Council, give cult vibes. Mikage reduces people to their most basic and awful urges and ideas in order to turn them into weapons, and when he finally has them on the precipice, he ushers himself in and says:

You have no choice but to revolutionize the world.

Which reminds me of an actual cult.

I take this from Haruki Murakami's Underground, as translated by Alfred Birnbaum and Philip Gabriel:

Around that time I went to the Aum dojo at Setagaya. They explained my situation to me and told me right then and there how to treat it. I tried the breathing exercises they taught me, and I couldn't believe how quickly I got better. For two months after that I didn't go to the dojo very much, but then I started going regularly, doing volunteer work, folding leaflets and stuff. Soon after there was a "Secret Yoga" session where you could talk directly to the Leader [Shoko Asahara], and I asked him what I should do about my poor health. "You need to become a renunciate," he told me. It was like he saw the real me at a glance. People were amazed because he'd never said that to anyone before—so I felt I had no choice but to leave school and become a renunciate. I was 22.

(Bold emphasis mine)

Ikuhara also mentions Aum sometime in 1998, I can't remember if it was an interview or DVD commentary. Given one of his later works, the parallels are very clear.

I guess to make a more normal comparison, think of how many men complain about how "women don't allow men to express their feelings" or the "male loneliness epidemic." But you also know that most of them go back to old and harmful ways. They squirm at terms like "patriarchy" and "toxic masculinity," and when you ask them what causes these things and what they desire to replace it with, you begin to understand that these men fundamentally misunderstand the issues at hand. That doesn't invalidate their complaints, but you can't let that justifiable complaint blind you from what they truly want: to be the ones on top.

This is gonna be a really out of pocket comparison, but even P. Diddy complained about how white dominated companies are. But what did he actually do? Hearing him say that made my own skin crawl as a person of color, even though I agree with it. I just don't let that agreement blind myself from what people like him actually do and offer to the world. I've had that example on mind because of the recent F.D Signifier video on Diddy.

I think that's what the Black Rose Saga introduces to the series, and why I think changing this line doesn't make sense. I personally think it's meant to be flaccid coming from him, it's meant to be jarring just judging by Ikuhara's style (although I've only gone through RGU and MPD). If there absolutely must be a change, maybe "You have no choice but to overthrow the world around you" would work as a neater and more direct parallelism, although given "revolutionize the world" doesn't seem to be an idiom or some play on words in Japanese (other than "revolution" also meaning a cycle, as in the revolution of the moon around the Earth), I really don't see much reason for the change.

Of course, I don't speak Japanese nor do I know much about translation. And this is just my interpretation of Ikuhara.

I know this seems like a lot, but it's really bugged me. Other than that, I like this translation and adore the various corrections/creativities like "almglocken" for "cowbell."

Fansub Release + Analysis of Utena Ep 14

This is a big one!!

My fansub release posts aren't usually like this, but this episode is so jam packed with stuff I want to talk about that I had to write my translation notes as a series of essays. It's longer than usual so strap in!

First, a word on “The Mikage Seminar”

I’ve always found the translation “the Mikage Seminar” very strange. In English, a seminar is an event — a lecture. Yet “the Mikage Seminar” is discussed as though it’s not a recurring lecture, but a society or a school of therapy, or a cult (like scientology). In fact I did a bit of reading about scientology to try and find an alternative translation, and discovered that the origins of scientology, namely a set of ideas and practices called Dianetics, bears a lot of similarities to “the Mikage Seminar”. Both involve a type of therapy where one person looks into their mind and talks to an “auditor”.

The auditor coaxes the preclear to recall as much as possible. — Wikipedia

This in particular stood out to me! Mikage often says 「深く。もっと深く」 during his interviews (”Deeper. Dig deeper.”).

The Japanese word ゼミナール doesn’t actually come from the English “seminar” but the German “Seminar” (capitalised). According to Wikipedia, in Germany, and often in Japan, Seminar/ゼミナール is used to refer to a university course that includes a thesis project. So ゼミナール refers to a course of learning, rather than a talk or lecture. And it would make a lot of sense to call a system like Dianetics a “course”. Almost like a “course” of medicine — a “course” of psychological practices that you can join but never complete.

So it would make sense to translate it as “the Mikage Course”. But “course” has more meanings in English than just this, and in the context of a university this makes it sound more like a mundane teaching course. So I tried some other words: the Mikage Sessions, the Mikage Method, Mikage Psychotherapy, Mikage Therapy, the Mikage Movement. None seemed quite right. Until I remembered this post. ゼミナール is a foreign word in Japanese, why not find a foreign word for the translation? And so I settled on this:

The Mikage Seminarium, AKA The Society of the Black Rose…

Seminarium is Latin, and is where both the German and English derive seminar from. Its original meaning is “seed plot”, but it’s also just the Polish word for seminar. I really like how the Latin makes its meaning ambiguous — it kind of sounds like a location, kind of sounds like a society, and kind of sounds like a learning course. Because it is all of these things.

Anthy: では、香苗さん。失礼します。 Kanae: ね、あたしの事、お姉さんって呼んでいいのよ。もうすぐわたしはあなたの本当のお姉さんになるんだから。

A more literal translation:

Anthy: Thank you for having us, Kanae-san. Kanae: Please… you can just call me “sister”. I’m going to be your real sister soon enough anyway.

The translation I ended up going with:

Anthy: Thank you for having us, Miss Ohtori. Kanae: Please... you can just call me Kanae. We're going to be family soon. There's no need for the formalities.

Japanese honorifics strike again!

In English, sisters-in-law don’t ask to be called “sister”. That would be super weird in most scenarios, and this scene is trying to evoke a particular familiar feeling of closing a distance gap in a relationship. The audience is meant to relate. Changing how Anthy addresses Kanae was pivotal to this scene working properly.

わかりました。あなたは世界を革命するしかないでしょ。

I understand. Your only choice is to force the world to change around you.

This line is translated as “Your only choice is to revolutionise the world” by basically every other translation. The reason is clear — the Japanese is the same as when Utena pulls the sword out of Anthy, or when any of the other characters talk about “revolutionising the world”. However, in this context, I don’t like it. The nuance of the English phrase is quite different to the Japanese phrase. In English, it’s often used to describe new commercial products: “This new device will revolutionise the world!” It comes with an implied “for the better”, but has used to describe technological developments so unexciting that it can also feel hollow. When the student council talk of revolutionising the world, they sound like revolutionaries — the context makes it work. But in this context, it comes out of nowhere and doesn’t have any of that fervour, which makes it sound hollow and flaccid when it should sound sinister and manipulative.

I think a pervading throughline for all the Black Rose duelists is that they see their problems as caused by other people, with themselves being blameless. Rather than change how they approach their situation, Mikage tells them they’re in the right.

Your behaviour will set you down a path. If that path leads to your goals, well done! However, if your path does not lead to your goals, there’s only two ways you can achieve them.

The first is to change your behaviour so that it does align with your goals. The second, impossible way, is for the rest of the world to change such that your current path DOES end up leading to your goals. This second way is not possible in the real world. But it is possible in Utena.

Also I’ll just leave this here: “around you” → “revolve” → “revolution” 👀

Kanae tried to build a relationship with Anthy in a passive, non-confrontational, extremely Japanese way — the way she has been taught to behave, the “proper” way, a mechanical following of the social scripts. We don’t see a lot of their relationship, but the way she behaved and spoke of behaving towards Anthy is very very similar to the way my Japanese grandmother has behaved towards my and my brother’s partners.

It was unthinkable to her to change this pattern of behaviour. Her only choice was to change Anthy, change the rest of the world, so that her behaviour would lead to the outcomes she wants. You could describe this forceful bending of reality to be “revolutionising the world”.

この黒薔薇のある限り、私はこれから嘘の私を演じなくて住む。

As long as I have this Black Rose, I'm free from the lie I was living before.

Besides gender, growing up, and resisting change (which exist as separate themes but also all intertwine as one), another major theme present in Utena is the self and subjective reality. The self is explored within those first major three themes, but also in terms of how the self dictates reality with the Black Rose duellists.

Black Rose Kanae says that her past self was a lie.

It reminds me of all the times when I’ve been going through a personal trial and I’ve looked back on my past self and thought “How naive I was. I understand things better now.” And then after a while I realise I was wrong, and my first self was more right. And then later still, maybe I re-realise that the second self was more right! And so on! The reality of truth (or to use Kanae’s language, “lies”) is so subjective.

Who dictates knowledge production? Who decides what is true; what is valid knowledge? This is a question of sociology - and at the moment that answer is "science does, kinda". But science and academic systems are supported by capitalist structures and tainted by capitalistic incentives — needing to be published in a journal, issues of replicability, the barrier to entry into academia in the first place, etc, etc. In the future we may find our current way of organising knowledge to be archaic and primitive in the same way we look back at medieval scholars.

But what about organising self-knowledge? Knowledge where the only one who can really decide what is true is yourself. And the only one that can decide what yourself even IS is yourself. I feel like I have looked back on my old ways of conceptualising myself many times (not even counting the gender-based revelations) and thought it primitive and archaic, and NOW I truly understand who I am and how to think of myself and how my thoughts interact with my other thoughts. But I have no doubt that I’ll look back on this current self of mine and reject their way of thinking too.

After their heart is replaced by the Black Rose, the duellists themselves frame this change as a moment of self realisation, of clarity. Once the rose is inside them, they wake up from themselves, like I have countless times. Kanae says herself, “This is the true me.” Honestly, I don’t doubt it. I think that version of Kanae was her true self at that moment, given the things influencing her. Being brainwashed doesn’t make you less of a person, or less yourself. It just makes you organise your reality differently.

心を凍結させて作っただけの間に合わせのデュエリストでは、彼女は破れないな。

We won't be able to defeat her by simply freezing someone's heart and forcing them to duel.

Anya and I discussed this in depth. I originally translated 心 as “mind”, because that was the first thing that popped into my head and I thought that was the simple part of the translation. However, Anya pointed out that it didn’t make sense with the themes of self and subjective reality, and I strongly agreed, so I changed it to “heart” instead.

Anya suggested “conscious mind” instead of “heart” but I think heart is more accurate. 心 (kokoro) can mean heart or mind in Japanese (I find it interesting that those two things are portrayed as opposites in English), and that kanji is found in the word for biological heart, 心臓 (shinzou). When they say of the Black Rose "This is your new heart" they use 心臓. They also say "Your new 命 (life/lifeforce)" which I translated as soul since it sounded more hardcore and because "your new life" is a set phrase in English meaning a new chapter in your life rather than your life force. I think the idea is that they're freezing the duellists' ability to love and feel empathy, which in my opinion is necessary for them to commit to the unbelievably selfish act of revolutionising/reconstructing/bending the entire structure of the world for their own convenience.

A very special thanks to @dontbe-lasanya for being there to talk through all these themes and ideas. I'm incredibly proud of this episode's translation and I wouldn't have been able to do it without them.

If you want to see more analysis like this, let me know! And also follow this blog to see episodes of the fansub as they're released. You can find all episodes released so far here:

Rose divider taken from this post

[sweetbunpura]

Filled with Static pt.3

Summary: Yuu was already fed up before coming to Playful Land and now that it's over... She has some very choice words for she has reached her boiling point...

Part 1 - Part 2

"Ace-"

"What?" Ace rubbed the bruise on his cheek as they entered Heartslabyul. "I heard it enough from the others, I ain't gotta hear it from you two too."

Trey and Cater look at each other as the first year shoves his hands into his pockets.

"Ace, we're trying to say we're all at fault here." Trey tries again.

Cater adds in. "Yeah, Ace. We didn't do anything to stop you-"

"But you did!" He shouted. "You both said he looked shady and I ignored you two!"

"True, but we also didn't physical stop-"

"Where do I even try to begin?"

The three of them paused as they entered the lounge. Riddle and Deuce were standing there, the first year was behind the seething dorm leader.

"I'm very sure I deliberately told you NOT to go to that amusement park." Riddle glared at the three of them. "So why did you feel the need to disobey me? And what about you two, Trey and Cater?"

Ace was silent as he looked off to the side while Trey took charge of the situation.

"Riddle, I followed him out of the dorm-"

"And yet you chose now to bring him back?"

"We ran into some problems-"

"I assume the problem was spending all day at that park."

Riddle's tone was cold and sharp, cutting off any attempt Trey had at trying to give an excuse. The vice leader deflated, not willing to try and continue for an out.

"I believed you to be better than this, Trey." He crossed his arms and directed his attention towards Cater. "And you?"

"Hahahaha...." Cater rubbed the back of his head. "I, um, Lilia-chan and I thought it would be a good idea to.... uh, allow Kalim to go to the park?"

"With Jamil's permission?"

"About that?"

"You too!?" Riddle began to shout. "What could drive you both to even chose to do this!? I understand that I've been lenient on the rules lately, but certainly not to this degree!"

Cater and Trey flinched while Ace rolled his eyes. Before Riddle could start his tangent, Deuce chimed in.

"Ace, why do you have a bruise on your cheek?"

"Huh?" Ace rubbed the mark. "Oh. Yuu punched me."

"What?" Deuce looked confused. "Why would she- I mean I get it, it's you. But Yuu hardly punches any of us-"

"Wrong, Juice, she doesn't punch you." Ace scoffed. "She punched me for no reason-"

"Ace." Cater's voice had lost his playfulness. "Yuu got hurt, you said the off comment sentence of 'why don't you just go back home?'"

"You what?" Deuce's face twist in rage and he grabbed Ace's collar. "Did you forget that she can't!?"

"Of course I forgot! It didn't cross my mind when I said it!"

"Nothing every does, Ace, and that's the problem! She's told us about how much she'd love to go back home and you rubbed it in!?" Trey and Cater tried prying Deuce's hands off of the red head.

"Fuck off and let go of me!" Ace joined his upperclassman's hands

"Ace, you do this every time! You mock Yuu for not knowing the holidays we have and for the things she doesn't know! You forget she's not from here!"

"You don't have to rub it in!" Ace snarled. "Everyone else already did!"

"You're so fucking bullheaded and insensitive, no wonder Yuu doesn't tell you shit!"

"Deuce, let him go. You don't need to waste your breath on him anymore." Riddle commanded.

The blue haired first year glared at the heart solider before dropping him on the floor like he was a pile of trash. Riddle studied Ace as he directed his attention to Trey and Cater

"....Am I wrong for assume that Yuu left?"

"....No." Trey's shoulders sagged. "She left and didn't take Grim with her. Riddle, she's.... she's done with us. Done with NRC."

His eyes widened and it took a few seconds before he spoke. "....What happened."

With much hesitation, Trey and Cater begin to recount what happened as Ace crossed his arms and added in commentary. By the end of it, Riddle was livid and trying to hold not only himself back but Deuce as well.

"I have no words." Riddle struggled to control his breathing. "You three have done irreversible damage all in the span of a day. Get out of my sight, I'll decide your punishment later. Come, Deuce."

"Yes, Sir."

They depart as they leave the trio there to ruminate on what they've done. Eventually, Cater shuffles off to his room while Ace leaves for his in a huff. Trey stands in the middle of the Lounge and feel his heart drop to his feet before he too departs for his room. The next day, all three of them are awoke by a text message simply stating:

All named students come to Crowley's office at once. Ace Trappola, Cater Diamond, Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Jack Howl, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Ortho Shroud, and Lilia Vanrouge.

[margeoww]

So like queen idk if u have instagram but like recently the leclercs went to Mexico so can we maybe get smthn REALLL angsty where its like carlos x leclerc reader and she’s not too close to the family. (not on her part mainly charles and arthur) and they go on vacation without telling her and she’s like sad. You can have more ending if u want

💐 anon

a/n: okay, let me know if this is what you wanted. because I understand the point but not too much.

Left Behind

back to my masterlist

pairing: carlos sainz x leclerc!reader

summary: left out of a family vacation, you confront Carlos about the secrecy and the growing distance with your brothers. Tensions rise, but Carlos’ heartfelt apology offers a chance for reconciliation and understanding.

warnings: angst, themes of exclusion and insecurity, emotional confrontation.

The early morning sunlight crept through the curtains of your shared apartment in Mónaco, but the warmth on your face did little to ease the growing heaviness in your chest. You scrolled through Instagram absentmindedly, your feed filled with glimpses of familiar faces. Your brother, Charles and Arthur. Both smiling and laughing under the mexican sun.

Charles had posted a picture of himself sipping on a cocktail by the pool, Arthur had shared a video of their group riding ATVs through the desert, and then there was Carlos—your boyfriend of two years—posing in the same photos, his trademark smile shining brighter than the sun.

And yet, no one had told you about the trip.

Not a single word.

Your throat tightened as you swiped through the posts. You hadn’t even known they were leaving Monaco, let alone heading off to Mexico. What hurt most wasn’t the secrecy — it was the reminder that, despite your efforts, you were still an outsider in your own family.

You’d always known that Charles and Arthur shared a bond you could never quite penetrate. They were close, the kind of brothers who had their own language, their own inside jokes. As their sister, you loved them deeply, but there had always been a sense of distance, a silent barrier that set you apart.

And Carlos… he had fit into their world so seamlessly. You’d seen it from the beginning, the way he joked with Charles like they’d been friends forever, the way Arthur looked up to him. Sometimes it felt like Carlos belonged with them more than he belonged with you.

You sighed, setting your phone aside and staring blankly at the ceiling. The questions swirled in your mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.

Why didn’t they tell me? Did they think I wouldn’t care? Or… did they just not want me there?

The sound of the front door opening pulled you from your thoughts. Carlos walked in, a small carry-on bag in hand. His face lit up when he saw you, but his smile faltered when he noticed the expression on your face.

—Mi amor. —he greeted, stepping closer. —What’s wrong?

You crossed your arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. —You tell me, Carlos. How was Mexico?

His eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by your tone. —Mexico? How did you—

—Instagram. —you interrupted, holding up your phone. —Charles and Arthur have been posting non-stop. Seems like everyone had a great time. Everyone but me.

Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair. —I can explain—

—Can you? —you snapped, your voice trembling.

—It wasn’t like that. —Carlos began, his tone pleading. —It was a last-minute thing. Charles invited me—

—And you didn’t think to invite me?

Carlos hesitated, guilt flashing in his eyes. —It wasn’t my place to invite you. It was your family’s trip, not mine.

The words stung, each one hitting like a blow to the chest. —My family —you repeated bitterly. —Right. The family that always makes me feel like I don’t belong.

Carlos stepped closer, his expression softening. —That’s not true—”

—Isn’t it? —you challenged, tears brimming in your eyes. —They didn’t want me there, Carlos. And you went along with it. Do you have any idea how that feels?

He reached for you, but you took a step back. —I thought you were on my side. I thought… I thought I could count on you.

—Mi amor… —Carlos said softly, his voice heavy with regret. —I never wanted to hurt you. If I had known this would upset you—

—You should have known —you cut him off. —You should have thought about how I’d feel. But you didn’t.

The tension in the air was suffocating, the silence between you deafening. Finally, Carlos broke it.

—You’re right —he admitted in a whisper.

His apology caught you off guard, the sincerity in his voice cutting through your anger. You looked at him, searching for any hint of dishonesty, but all you saw was regret.

—I love you —he continued, stepping cautiously closer. —And I never want you to feel like you’re not enough. Not with me, not with anyone.

Your resolve faltered, but his words didn’t fill the emptiness in your chest. You took a small step back, letting the distance between you speak for itself.

—I don’t know if it’s that simple, Carlos —you whispered, avoiding his gaze. —I can’t keep feeling like an outsider.

Carlos froze, his expression pained. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped. He took a breath, and his shoulders slumped slightly.

—I’ll do whatever it takes. —he said quietly. —But only if you let me.

You didn’t respond, your thoughts a tangled mess of emotions. The love you felt for him was still there, but so was the hurt, the lingering doubt.

Carlos nodded, his jaw tight, his eyes filled with understanding—and fear. —Take all the time you need.

He didn’t try to close the distance again, and you didn’t move to close it either. Instead, you stood there, two people caught in the uncertainty of what came next.

The only sound in the room was the faint hum of the city outside, a reminder that the world kept turning even as yours felt stuck in limbo.

[girl4music]

Those last 2 episodes. Appropriately titled ‘Heart Part 1’ and ‘Heart Part 2’ because my heart is so full. I have so much to say and have no idea where to start with it.

So much happened. Every lead character’s individual arc was thoroughly concluded in a very satisfying way. Even some of the recurring ones got an endgame so there’s a lot to cover in this recap of a fantastic finale and I feel so fulfilled on great storytelling and great representation packed into a neatly tied up ending.

MAJOR SPOILERS: do not read this if you have not seen the finale of ‘She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’.

I guess I’ll start with Shadow Weaver because she had an endgame that I had predicted. Well, sort of. I said that Shadow Weaver’s arc can only go in 1 of 2 ways. I said it was either personal attainment (villainy) or personal sacrifice (heroism). So I wasn’t surprised when it was the latter. But I wasn’t able to trust in her going that way sincerely until she started attacking that monster, told Catra that she was proud of her, took off her mask and then told them both ‘you’re welcome’. I couldn’t trust that she was sincerely helping them to achieve releasing and channelling the Heart of Etheria’s magic… which by the way, is what almost brought them to the brink of destruction the first time they tried to do it. However, I understood that because She-Ra was the conduit for that, that it could have a different outcome. Still destructive but destructive only to the opposition. I think anyway. I might have to rewatch that part again because I don’t think I fully understood what was going on there. But yes, Shadow Weaver went out in a heroes death rather than was the cause of her own demise out of hunger for power and a desire to attain the magic of the Heart Of Etheria for selfish aim. I was happy with it.

Glimmer and Bow: I decided to talk about these 2 lead characters together since part of their arc involves each other. It was no surprise to me that they would declare their love for each other. I mean Glimmer has always had a crush on Bow and they’ve been the very best of friends since they were children. I wasn’t sure about Bow at first but I knew intense romantic feelings would develop and I’m glad it was Glimmer who said it first. I am a bit disappointed that there wasn’t a kiss on the lips but I think I understand why that was. I’ll get there. Be patient. There’s way too much to talk about first and I really want to save Catradora until the very last section because I’ll have the most to say about them as a lot of their arc informs well… pretty much the whole TV show.

Glimmer individually had more of an arc in the TV show than Bow did so a significant amount of my meta goes to her. It was mainly how she was fairing as Queen but also how useful she could be to the team because of it. Then of course there was Micah. Reuniting with him but having to battle with him because he was an unwilling agent of Horde Prime. I laughed with pure joy when the influence on him ended and he said “Hi, I’m your dad.” I really felt for Glimmer when she was desperately trying to heal him and she said “I won’t lose another parent!” So it was so satisfying for me to realize she healed him and that she poured all the love she could into that heal and when she succeeded, the proud smile that he wore must have made her feel like Queen of the world, never mind just her little town of Brightmoon. She deserves it.

Likewise it was wonderful to see how proud Bow’s dads were of him when he gave that rousing battle speech to the reawakened masses of Etherians, telling them to be their own warriors and fight for their home. It was right that it was Bow to do that rather than Adora or Glimmer because that is what he had trained himself to do from the beginning. He wants to be an archer battling on the side of the greater good and not a historian. So to see his dads holding each other, proudly watching him… it brought a tear to my eye, I have to admit. So beautiful!

Hordak and Entrapta: I had no idea that I would get a closure for Entrapta, let alone Hordak. I did and I’m so happy about it because even though she was only a recurring character, Entrapta buried her way into my science, tech and engineering loving heart (with a spanner and a blowtorch? You will never know 🤣) but I am glad that she got over her obsession enough to focus on what really mattered. Saving her friends.

The fact that what stopped Horde Prime wasn’t Adora or Glimmer or who you would expect, but Hordak and Entrapta? That hit so hard with me. To give THEM the hero moment of defeating the villain. I was like “Oh my god! That’s brilliant!” Because it is. Think about it. Who do you think Horde Prime tortured the most? His Little Brother! I still don’t know if that was literally or not. 🤷‍♀️ Was he actually related or was he just another clone because he did call Catra his “Little Sister” too? That’s still so creepy to me. But yeah, for Hordak to get that moment of retribution was absolutely delicious for me and then for Entrapta to reach him when Horde Prime tried to take over through the Hive Mind? So, so, good! That made total sense and it was brilliantly executed!

Scorpia and Mermista: The only reason to lump these 2 characters together is because they were chipped and controlled the longest that they caused significant damage to Etherians. There’s not really much to say about them other than that they’re going to have huge headaches now that this is all over due to how far gone they were. I mean I’m glad that they were able to save them but I just don’t know what the aftermath will be for them or whether they will be the same ever again.

From the way I watched and interpreted the TV show, I understood that one of the main narrative themes of it was psychological conditioning and I’ve been in awe that this children’s show was brave enough to tell that very dark story,… let alone see it right through until the end because it’s an ambitious, elaborate and difficult narrative undertaking. Especially to do it properly,… which they definitely did. To tell the darkness of… well… basically radicalization and genocide but to do so in such a way that it could teach and motivate kids to develop on their innate judgement and discernment so if - god forbid - they ever end up in that situation, they’ll know exactly what to do about it. With team She-Ra being their idols, they’ll be able to fight conditioning. I can imagine that’s what the creators intended with this and I cannot acknowledge and commend them on it high enough. I think that ND Stevenson and the entire creative team are incredibly courageous and amazing to make this a main thematic narrative all throughout this TV show and handle it with skill and compassion that it does not once come across as too much for PG.

Catradora: (Yes, I’m using the ship name because the way they tie up their individual character storyline arcs seamlessly also ties in with their romantic arc and you do not know how hard it is to find this with WLW ships.)

First off, I want to point out something that may or may not have been pointed out before with Catradora but this is just how it came across to me in the narrative given I interpret psychological conditioning as a main theme within it. To me, a lot of the reason why Catra is the way she is as a villainous character when it comes to receiving love and affection has do with this factor. She’s so closed off and repressed to the point that she cannot even see that she’s corrupting and sabotaging herself. She is a lot like Xena in this way. But a major striking difference for Catra is that she physically loses the one person in the world that stops her from doing this, whereas Xena physically gains that one person. Trust issues, abandonment issues, parental issues all tie in together - but that was all tolerable when Adora was around her. As soon as Adora leaves her behind in the Fright Zone and, furthermore, begins to oppose her as the hero of Etheria, she spirals so hard and so fast that all of those issues - which were always issues caused by the abusive treatment from Lord Hordak and Shadow Weaver - come crashing down one by one on top of her because she no longer has the person who makes those issues just inconveniences for her. Not only that but … it feels like personal betrayal for her that Adora fights her. She genuinely does think that Adora hates her. I mean who wouldn’t if they were in her shoes (paws?) and had the “upbringing” and “nurturing” backstory she’s had? So Catra has this preconceived notion that Adora never cared about her and left her because she thought she was better than her and was chasing after heroic glory and believes that she was too weak to go with her. In a way it’s a personal vendetta out of misunderstandings Catra has against Adora and those feelings are intense not just because the Horde brainwashing is that deep and severe but also because her love is that deep too and she can’t differentiate which feelings are which. So she becomes She-Ra’s mortal enemy because in her mind, She-Ra is what has taken Adora away from her.

But obviously, from Adora’s side, She-Ra was sprung on her, Etheria was sprung on her. In fact her entire world upended once she recognized her life for what it was. A lie. That she was the villain brutalizing innocent people. She couldn’t go back to them even if she had wanted to because everything she had ever knew was fraudulent and she had been coerced and deceived into being a weapon. And what I really like about Adora’s individual arc is that eventually this was revealed to be true on both sides of the war. She was a weapon for evil and for the greater good. But all she wanted - as all heroes do - was just to protect and defend her loved ones. That’s it. Catra could never see it that way though and it makes sense that she couldn’t given her conditioning was even worse as it involved one-on-one attacks from Shadow Weaver as well as whatever the treatment was with the entire group. Catra’s psychological conditioning was much more personal, intimate and isolated so what was ingrained into her had much deeper and stronger layers added on to it. Hers was a solid brick wall built trauma complex. Those are always much harder to recognize and escape from but with the right therapy,… it can be done. Given her issues weren’t so bad when Adora was around her but got much worse when Adora left her… it is clear that Adora represented a sort of therapy for her. Adora helped her keep all the crippling thoughts of self-doubt and self-contempt at bay. But they were on full volume when Adora left and kept attempting to kill her.

Okay, so let’s finally get on to their romantic arc and how the finale not only concluded their individual character representation and development arcs but also ended their ship slow burn. It wasn’t until the fantastic episode of ‘Save The Cat’ did I realize they were going there. See,… to start with, I knew that they were going to become a canon WLW couple at some point otherwise I would have never started watching it. That was the draw for me. That they were both lead characters in a canon WLW ship in a children’s TV show. That floored me. But I was not prepared at all for what I got to see in the finale. It was groundbreaking. It was phenomenal. In fact I’m sure it was life changing for many queer kids to see that kiss happen the way it did. Or… just happen on-screen at all. Look, I am so used to the “implied” and “assumed” and “disguised” when it comes to WLW physical intimacy that I just do not ever expect blatant leaves-absolutely-no-doubt-whatsoever kisses. I certainly don’t expect WLW kisses written and portrayed as “the power of love” kind. It’s extremely rare. To see it in a children’s show nailed me to the floor. But furthermore - added on to that astonishing feat - is that both lead characters overcome all their issues and obstacles through that very act like… a fairytale story. It’s like… when the Princess kisses the Princess, all is well… there’s no stopping either from that point on. It seems corny but it all just depends on how it’s done. But the fact is you don’t see it done between WLW at all. So to see it done WELL alongside seeing it done at all… I mean Indy knew that he had an assignment with this but the phrase “he understood the assignment” doesn’t cover or justify what was accomplished with this and I can’t believe it’s took me this long to see it.

Every TV art/entertainment creator should watch this TV show and regard this finale as the perfect example of what queer representation can and should provide in TV because this was just the epitome of what true love is. But the fact it was between 2 female lead characters.

I can’t even begin to explain how much it meant to me but I will spend the rest of my life trying to express it because this really was a groundbreaking achievement and I will be adding this WLW ship to my very short list of WLW ships that shape and satisfy every piece of me.

I have had the best fucking time watching this TV show and I will be doing reruns of it for god knows how long because I am sure there is so much more there for me just like there is with Xena, Buffy, Charmed, Dragon Ball Z, Wynonna Earp and Arcane. All these beloved shows are timeless to me for a reason and She-Ra is the same.

I hope you all enjoyed reading my recaps of my very first watch of ‘She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all. 🎄

[seaslugfanclub]

Heyyy !!! Love your writtings and drawings !! You Rock !! And I was really curious about your thoughts on Y/N and Ratigan's relationship! Like how Ratigan grew to like them and all- I have a funny headbanging that the park Attendant managed to save him from Lucifer the cat one time XD

Ratigan and (Y/N)’s First Introduction

————————————————————————

Being in the Disney parks is overwhelming enough, but try being less than a foot tall.

Oh sure, Disney can bring all of these fictional characters to reality, but guess it was too much work for them to size up the smaller characters!

Ratigan is not having a good time. Just like his entire life, he’s had to fight tooth and nail for even a modicum of respect. Now he has to fight even harder to get a room to himself.

Disney didn’t think that far ahead about having a rodent sized villain living amongst the others. For the first few weeks of Ratigan new existence, he had to rely on his extensive talents in order to carve out a small space for himself in the villains breakout room

Oh, how humiliating it was to sleep behind a wall socket like some common vermin!!

And the food situation! It’s nearly impossible to get access to the fridge, and the cabinets have nothing that could even begin to match his expensive tastes.

Not to mention the other villains less than stellar reactions to seeing a ra- ahem- a mouse in their living area

Most of the female villains would screech at the sight of him, jumping onto chairs and demanding for the male villains to kill him.

Yes… it certainly hasn’t been all champagne and caviar…

Ratigans new life only began to improve after his less than respectable meeting with the park attendant (Y/N)

————————————————————————

“(Y/N).”

The park attendant wiped off their brow, setting down a box full of spare costumes to turn towards the intimidating woman in the doorway.

“Oh, good afternoon Lady Tremaine. How’re you doing?”

Tremaine didn’t bother with the pleasantries,

“I have not seen Lucifer since breakfast. Would you have any idea where the little creature is?”

(Y/N) shook their head, “No, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“Well I have matters to attend to soon, and I need Lucifer with me. Find him.”

With nothing but a small grimace, Lady Tremaine left, her shoes tapping sharply against the linoleum tiles of the hallway.

“…..ok…”

(Y/N) shuffled in place for a moment, beginning to think of the cats usual whereabouts.

————————————————————————

“Luci!! C’mon baby! *pst pst pst*

(Y/N) shook a bag of Lucifer’s dry food, hoping the sound would lure the chunky cat out of hiding.

They had been searching for a good 15 minutes without any sign of the feline, and (Y/N) was beginning to feel an anxious flutter in their chest.

Turning up empty handed to Lady Tremaine was not an option.

(Y/N)’s search had lead them to a quieter wing of the villains building, this area mainly being used for storage and management meetings. The park attendant stopped for a moment, hoping to hear the sound of little paws, before going back to shaking the dry food.

“*pst pst pst pst pst* C’mon Luci, your mama’s looking for—” (Y/N) paused, faint scuffling could be heard further down the hall.

Finally!

(Y/N) followed the sound, approaching one of the storage rooms at the end of the hallway, but the closer they got to the scuffling, something else could be heard.

….Yelling?

The door was already slightly ajar when (Y/N) fully pushed their way into the room, causing two pairs of eyes to meet them.

In the back of the room, amongst filing cabinets and schedules of years past was Lady Tremaine’s cat, Lucifer, who’s claws were primed and at the ready… and the heaving body of Professor Ratigan pressed into a corner.

From the look on both of their faces, (Y/N) walked in on something intense, although Lucifer’s expression was one of disappointment while the professors was one of quiet relief.

“LUCIFER—The hell are you doing!?!!! Go, your mama’s been looking for you!” (Y/N) yelled at the cat, who seemed physically pained to leave the rodent alone. Reluctantly, Lucifer trudged pass the park attendant, who was still admonishing him.

“Like you’re not fed enough! What, Where you dropped as a kitten!?”

Once (Y/N) saw Lucifer’s tail disappear around the corner, they immediately turned their attention towards the still cornered Ratigan.

“Professor, are you alright!? I am so. sorry.”

They dropped the bag of cat food to rush towards the rodent, slamming down onto their knees as their eyes flitted over Ratigans form.

His chest was rapidly going up and down, Ratigan obviously still trying to catch his breath. His usually slicked back hair was now falling in front of his face as he stared up at (Y/N).

He seems frazzled, but thankfully free of any scratches or missing appendages.

“…alright?” Ratigan heaved after a few moments of silence, “You asked if I’m alright? OH YOU MENTALLY DEFECTIVE WRETCH, HOW ON EARTH COULD I EVER BE A L R I G H T???”

(Y/N) flinched at the sudden increase of volume, staring down at the now manic looking rodent in shock.

“Ever since I’ve been brought to this demented park, I’ve been nothing but humiliated and scorned! Forced to fend for myself like the common vermin because YOU PEOPLE didn’t have an iota of sense that taking me from the grave would cause me to live amongst GIANTS”

Ratigan began pacing, his eyes wild as he continued,

“I have had to scrounge and scrap to continue this miserable existence, reduced to living off of stale crackers and tap water, to lay my head beneath electrical wires. I’ve been forced to scavenge in these back rooms for supplies since every employee runs off at the sight of me before I can even open my mouth for the simplest of requests. Oh! And let’s not forget me being preyed upon by that devil in feline form! I’ve been hunted by that beast for the past few hours, nearly meeting my second demise! Left alone to die like a cretin, like I’m NOTHING. DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHO I AM? DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHO I USED TO BE? I HAVE NOTHING NOW. NOTHING.”

Finally his tiny body gave out, Ratigan collapsing to the carpet dramatically, arm covering his eyes.

“Oh…I’d have been better off a bloated corpse in the Thames.”

(Y/N) couldn’t find any words, watching helplessly as Ratigan sprawled across the floor. Their throat felt tight.

They’d only been hired several months ago, and they’ve only just begun getting along with a few Villains. (Y/N) rarely saw Professor Ratigan, and when they did they reasoned that he had the same provisions that the other smaller Disney rodents had.

When (Y/N) first arrived, they got to meet Ms. Bianca and Mr. Bernard in front of their tiny apartment styled home, which was built into one of the walls of the Disney Protagonist’s building. During the quick introduction, it seemed that the company had thought of everything the couple could’ve needed.

Guess the same quality of service didn’t apply to villains…

(Y/N) sat in silence for a few minutes, allowing Ratigans words to fully sink in, before finally speaking up.

“I didn’t— …..I’m sorry.”

Ratigan didn’t lift his arm from his eyes, “Please. Spare me your pity, human.”

“Oh please, don’t start with that— I’m sorry that you’ve been screwed over, I wasn’t aware that the company’s been this irresponsible.”

Slowly, (Y/N) reached out their hand, palm open in offering,

“I’m still pretty new here, but I think I’ve got a way to pull a few strings…”

Finally lifting his arm, Ratigan looked up at the park attendant. The scent of their sincerity almost nauseating, but what else did he have to lose?

Taking (Y/N)s palm as an invitation, he lifted himself off the carpet and onto (Y/N)s hand.

Oh, how low he’s stooped.

————————————————————————

Turns out (Y/N)’s “few strings” was the one of the villains that they had managed to befriend. With Ratigan in hand, (Y/N) went all the way to the other side of the building to the villains lounge, where they explained the professors dilemma to a very confused Hades, asking for his help.

As distrustful as Ratigan was around humans, he could appreciate this park attendants persuasiveness through subtle manipulation and use of accumulated favors.

Hades, who’s always been a fan of things creepy and crawly, (and also wanted to earn some brownie points with (Y/N) ) agreed to help their little charity case

Half an hour later Ratigan still sat in (Y/N)’s hands, looking up at the now nervous park attendant as they fidgeted in place, staring at the door of their managers office.

After a few minutes and some smoke leaking from underneath the doorway, a very pleased Hades opened the door. The god strolled up to (Y/N), patting them on the back and commenting how “he warmed him up for you” and was about to leave before acknowledging Ratigan in their palm.

“Ya’ better be grateful, tiny. You’ve found the only person in this park who gives a shit about you.”

Just as Ratigan was about to demand an explanation on what (Y/N) was planning, the park attendant strode into the office. Where the pair met eyes with a very pale manager.

The previous anxiousness on (Y/N)s face instantly melted into professionalism, introducing themselves, then placed Ratigan on the managers desk and asking him to share his current quality of life with the sweating man before him.

One slightly confused but melodramatic explanation later, (Y/N) went on to say how “disturbing” it was to see this type of mistreatment in a company who had bragged about the quality of their intellectual properties well being, and that it would be “unfortunate if word about Disneys beloved characters being mistreated got out to the general public, especially those protesting Disneys new holographic AI.”

(Y/N) went on to virtually demand that the company recorrect this oversight, and give Ratigan a fully furnished living space and amenity’s just like the other mice in the park.

The office was dead silent once (Y/N) had finished speaking.

The manager dabbed the sweat from his forehead, cleared his throat, and nodded. The pasty man tried to come up with excuses for the company before conceding, agreeing with (Y/N)s “request” and apologizing to Ratigan, who for once in his life was speechless.

(Y/N) and Ratigan left the managers office with the promise of Ratigans new home being fully constructed within two months, and full permission to take any food/ rodent sized items from the protagonists building.

Ratigan, who was still dazed with the sudden change of luck, was dropped off in the Villains lounge. (Y/N) promising to pick up some fresh food and maybe a rodents sized bed from the “good guys place” before running out of the room.

It wouldn’t be until months later that he’d fully express his gratitude…. But for now, he admitted , he is lucky that he found the one person in this park who gave a shit him.

———————————————————————

Hope this answers your request! I thought it’s be nice to learn how Ratigan and (Y/N) first met!

I’ll definitely make another post about their friendship and more fluff, but how could I resist writing some angst? 😭

[cosette141]

You, Me, and Who You Used to Be | CS Fic (CSSS 2024 Gift for BelovedCreation)

Merry Christmas!!

I'm your Santa this year!! :) 🎄🎄

Using your prompts of pining, Enchanted Forest, and angst with a happy ending, I give you:

Summary: (CS movie divergence) After getting her parents back on track, Emma’s magic returns. But before she can conjure a portal home, Killian is abducted. Alone in a world she knows nothing about and with no idea how to find Killian, Emma enlists the only person—or rather, pirate—who would be as motivated to save Killian as she is. However… Killian’s past may just be what destroys the future. CS

AO3

Words (so far): 5k+

NOTE: This is currently only the first chapter of this fic - long story short, the fic I spent weeks on just was not coming together, so I last minute changed to this one. It was an idea I had written the beginning of years ago that I remembered when I was trying to find something to align with the prompts you gave me :D so I knew it would be perfect to write for your gift!! I spent the past week working super hard on this trying to get it finished for you in time, but it was getting so rushed and you do not deserve a rushed gift!! So I decided to give you the first 5k words now, and I'll be updating it with the rest over the coming weeks! :)

Chapter One (under the cut!)

A/N: Story context: This is a canon divergence of the CS movie, which begins right after Emma gets the wand from Rumplestiltskin. (He does not send him to his vault of do-not-touch things in this version tho. We’ll pretend Elsa gets to Storybrooke some other way lol. I’ll also be ignoring Marian, which, the show pretty much did when it just ended up being Zelena anyway lol. 

Emma smiled at the faintly glowing wand in her fingers, feeling the warmth of the return of her magic, lighting a glow in the vast dining room of Rumplestiltskin’s castle. 

Everything was back on track.

Including herself.

Perhaps she had been trying to take the easy way out, blocking her magic from returning so she could go back to New York with no ties left behind. 

But more than anything, it was Killian’s smile now that made the warmth inside her grow even more, and if it wasn’t her imagination, made the wand spark a little brighter.

“It works,” whispered Emma, staring at the wand in awe, eyes snapping to Killian. “My magic is back!”

“I knew you could do it, love.” said Killian softly, a relief in his eyes, like it was for both the possibility of getting back home, and for the fact that he still blamed himself for her powers being taken in the first place. 

“Ah, the Savior, of course,” murmured Rumplestiltskin from his perch on the edge of his dining table. “I should have known you would have magic of your own.”

Emma suddenly realized just how much Rumplestiltskin knew. “Is it a problem that you know…?”

“It would be,” he agreed, but lifted his hand, where a potion bottle materialized. “However, I have spent the past few hours mixing myself a Forgetting Potion.”

Emma smiled. “Good. Well, let’s do this, then.” She then lifted the wand, about to attempt to bring forth the time portal.

“Wait, wait, wait,” said Rumplestiltskin, jumping down and pushing her hand with the wand down. “Not in here. You might bring any number of my possessions with you.”

Emma winced, eyes finding the myriad of scary-looking things in the castle, wondering just how catastrophic that could be. 

She looked from Killian’s raised eyebrow to Rumplestiltskin. “So where do we—“

But not a second later, Rumplestiltskin’s castle was gone, and suddenly they were outside. Trees, greenery and blue sky replaced the walls of the Dark One’s abode. They weren’t too far from the town below, and not far off was the sea. But they were in an empty enough area of the forest that no one should see anything, and nothing should come with them.

 “Well,” said Killian, giving her another smile, “ready, there, Swan?”

Emma nodded. She lifted the wand again, concentrating on her magic, on the emotion in her chest, bright and raw. The tiny flicker of a portal, like a zipper drawn in the very fabric of the air, appeared before them. 

Killian grinned. “That’s it, lo—” 

He was cut off with a grunt, and Emma’s eyes snapped to him, her concentration broken and the tiny beginnings of the portal fizzled back out of existence. 

Emma’s heart stopped. 

They were no longer alone. 

A burly, muscled man had his arm around Killian’s neck in a chokehold, his other arm pinning Killian’s left arm to his side. Killian let out an angry, surprised snarl, jerking hard against the grip. 

“Hook!” cried Emma, jamming the wand in her back pocket to hide it and running toward him, only skidding to a stop when three other thugs suddenly flanked the first.

“Sw—“ began Killian, his right hand scrabbling at the hold around his neck, but his airway was quickly cut off. Red rushed to his face, and Emma’s heart froze.

“Sorry, darlin’,” said the man’s raspy voice. “We got direct orders to bring Captain Hook in. He stole from us last night, and now he gon’ pay. Pretty stupid to show yer face in the open like this, without yer crew, no less.” A dark chuckle. “Shoulda sailed away when he had the chance.” To someone behind him, he shouted, “Lucky catch, men!”

Killian struggled against them, something angry and feral, landing a blow to the man's gut. The man growled and stumbled, and Killian reared back to hit him again until the man snapped, “Stop fightin’ or the wench dies!” That made Killian freeze, staring at her with icy horror. 

For a moment, Emma and Killian stared at each other, and it felt like time stood still.

Panic rushed through Emma's chest.

Magic.

Magic.

But she had no idea how to use her magic.

And if she took even a step forward, she'd get a sword through her in seconds.

Killian grunted as a second thug grabbed him on his other side, ripping Killian's sword from his sheath.

Panic rose even sharper in Emma's chest.

Killian swallowed, eyes locked onto her. “Go—home,” Killian managed, his eyes pleading and broken, with something in them that looked like goodbye, only making Emma’s eyes burn. 

“Hook���!” breathed Emma, running for him, but froze when three swords pointed in her direction, so close to her it made her stumble back, falling to the ground.

And by the time she made it back to her feet, they were gone.

-.-.-.

Dark had fallen.

The air had chilled. 

But none of it gave her the cold dread inside her chest. 

She’d searched for hours.

But those men obviously knew this forest better than she did, and it was easy to get lost in it. 

Too easy.

She let them take him.

Emma kicked herself.

She should have done something.

She should have done something.

She should have been spending all the time back in Storybrooke learning magic instead of shoving it away.

Because now Killian was gone, and it was all her fault.

She got them stuck in the past.

She was the reason Killian stopped trying to free himself from those bastards.

She was the reason that they may never see each other again.

Emma couldn’t stop seeing his eyes. 

The resignation.

The defeat. 

The horrible, utter sadness.

She was now alone, and she’d never felt this alone in her entire life. 

It was one thing to grow up being alone. 

And it was another thing entirely to find people, to fall for people, and to have them ripped from you.

It was an entirely different thing to know what it felt like to not be alone.

And ever since meeting Killian, more or less after he decided to become a part of something , he’d been practically glued to her side. He’d voluntarily gone back to the land he hated more than anywhere, he’d given up his revenge, he’d found her in freaking New York City —an endeavor Emma still didn’t know how he managed to do—and how he managed to find her in a world he knew hardly anything about?

Emma stopped on the path, feeling the chill of the air. 

Even the air felt different in the Enchanted Forest. It felt… unearthly, which, wasn’t exactly off point. The magic in the land seemed to crackle like a charged atmosphere. The animal sounds, the nightly coos and caws were different, and all this different was unsettling and…

She really, really didn’t want to admit she was scared. 

But Emma didn’t have Mary Margaret with her this time. She didn’t have a princess squad to help her through. And, she didn’t have Hook.

Killian, who was god knew where. 

He might even already be—

No , said a firm voice in her head, trying to quell the hair that raised on the back of her neck at the thought. They wouldn’t have kidnapped him if they were going to be quick about it. 

The idea of him suffering at all…

Emma swallowed, hard, trying to shove down the rush of panic that shook her fingers.

How the hell was she supposed to find him?

She was a complete outsider. 

She not only wasn’t from this town, she wasn’t from this world , and she wasn’t from this time, not by a long shot. 

She was trapped thirty years in the past, and Killian could be anywhere. 

“Go home.”

Emma shut her eyes at Killian’s echo.

Go home.

He wanted her to go home.

He wanted her to leave him here, conjure the portal, and go home.

The very fact that he thought she would made her chest hurt, because how could he think she’d leave him here?

But…

“You really thought I’d let you drown?”

“Given our history, can you blame me for being uncertain? ”

Here she was thinking how he could possibly think she didn’t care about him, when…

“Do you even care about them? Or anyone in this town?”

He said anyone.

He meant me.

And replaying it all, how could she think he’d know she did?

All she’s done since he saved her in New York, was walk away from him.

But she did care.

She more than cared.

And now, she may never —

No.

Emma opened her eyes, ignoring the burn in them.

Determination set into her face, Emma made up her mind without hesitation. 

There was no way she was leaving here without Killian.

The thought of returning to life without him, living without him…

It felt wrong. 

Something about him in her life just made sense. Even now, she felt like something was missing, and suddenly she was wondering how she ever considered leaving her family, leaving him, to go back to New York. 

“Go home.”

She couldn’t go home when he already became her home.

But… 

How on earth—or, how in the Enchanted Forest—was she supposed to find him?

And before they did something terrible and irreversible to him?

“He stole from us last night. Now he’s gon' pay.”

Emma blinked. 

Killian didn’t steal anything from anyone; she knew he hadn’t. He’d been too concerned with messing up the time continuum.

He hadn’t stolen.

But Emma had a pretty good feeling who had.

And Killian was currently paying for his crime. 

Emma smiled grimly, a plan unfolding in her head. 

She started walking, faster this time.

She just hoped the Jolly Roger was still in port. 

-.-.-.

Emma clung to the shadows when she entered the town. 

Thanks to Rumplestiltskin returning her clothes, she was no longer wearing the ragged dress and cloak that they had stolen, and was back in her jeans and leather jacket. Something that, Killian’s voice reminded her, hasn’t come into vogue, ever. So… she had to be careful. They just fixed the timeline; they cannot ruin it all over again.

But Killian was worth that risk.

As she clung to the dark areas of town, Emma was reminded of a younger her, living on the streets, dodging shadowy corners to pitch black alleyways. It was evening, the sky blackening with an array of stars, but the town still bustled with life, mostly around the taverns. 

Emma passed the tavern she and Killian had found his past-self in, and Emma risked a look inside, but he wasn’t there. 

Her heart quickening, Emma suddenly worried he wasn’t even in town.

She picked up her pace, following the path past-Hook had led her down when he’d been her inebriated guide. 

Emma emerged from the cover of an alley, looking up to see the sea, and ships of all sizes moored at the docks. And among them—

Emma felt relief flood her. 

The Jolly Roger. 

She smiled despite herself, picking up her pace. As she got closer, she could see the crew retracting the anchor—

They were leaving. 

Her heart pounding, Emma began to sprint. 

With grunts of heaving, two members of the Jolly’s crew were lifting the gangplank.

It was halfway up when Emma got to it, flinging herself off the dock and onto it, barely making the jump. She slid down the wood, landing in a heap on the deck. 

“What in the blazes—?!”

The two men nearly dropped the gangplank, but managed to finish shutting it, faster, as if worrying that someone else was going to attempt Emma’s jump. 

Her entire body throbbing from the mistreatment, Emma slowly picked herself up from the deck. She quickly noticed at least a dozen pirates were staring at her in shock. 

But a voice broke through the din, and Emma would recognize it anywhere. 

“Well, you don’t bloody see something like that every day.”

-.-.-.

Despite her protests, Emma had been manhandled by two of the crew members and dragged into the Captain’s Quarters a moment after she’d seen him. He’d witnessed her reckless jump onto his ship, but hadn’t said a word to her yet. 

She was currently in the chair opposite his desk, two burly hands on her shoulders keeping her pinned down, and Hook was in his chair behind the desk, staring at her in silence. 

“What are you doing aboard my ship?” he said finally. 

Emma flicked her eyes to the pirate holding her down, then back to Hook. “I’ll tell you, but only you.”

Hook sighed, then flicked his eyes to the man behind her, giving a minute nod and a slight roll of his eyes. Then, when the door clicked shut, he gave her a pointed look.

Emma let out a breath, her heart beating in a frenzy. This Hook was not half as drunk as he was when they last met. His gaze on her was cold and measured and there was no trace of the softness Killian had now. It unnerved her, this air of danger he held, sitting before her. Waiting. 

But Emma swallowed, trying to remember, this is still Killian. Just… buried under two hundred years of pain and resentment. 

It didn’t make her feel better. 

“I need your help.” said Emma at last, holding his gaze. 

His brow lifted, like that was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “My help?” he echoed, lips twisting a little in amusement. “I’m a pirate captain, lass. You’ve mistaken me for someone who gives. Pirates take.”

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the irony that all he’s done the past two years was give. 

Worry fluttered in her stomach, suddenly wondering if her Killian was all right.

And when did he start being ‘her’ Killian?

Emma let out another breath. “Yeah, that’s actually what brings me here. All I need to know,” said Emma slowly, “is who you stole from last night.” 

She’d thought it through; if she could just get the name or the place of the person who he’d stolen from, she could go find Killian without Hook ever needing to know she was from the future. 

Hook paused. 

Suspicion suddenly gleamed in his eyes. 

He stood, and rounded his desk until he was standing before her. 

The suspicion only deepened in his eyes.

Emma could feel the danger radiate off him like a cologne. 

She was trying not to shrink under his intense gaze when he leaned even closer, his face inches from hers. He searched her eyes.

“You,” he whispered. “I remember you.”

Emma’s heart skipped. “You do?” she breathed. 

She should have known it was irrational to think he meant he remembered knowing her. 

Because his eyes narrowed, coldness in the blue. “You owe me a nightcap, love.”

Emma froze. “Oh,” she said, biting her lip. “Didn’t blame the rum, huh?”

He leaned back slightly, but looked no less predatory. “I’m guessing this is from you as well,” he said, brushing the metal of his hook to his cheek where Killian had hit him. 

Emma winced. “Not exactly—“

He was suddenly in her face again, eyes narrowed, colder than ice. “You were trying to get me drunk. To get on my ship,” he muttered. “Why?”

Oops.

Emma tried to think fast. 

She did not like a version of Killian that scared her, and this one did exactly that. 

As if to prove the point, he raised his hook, tracing her jaw until the tip was underneath her chin, forcing her head up. Emma gasped reflexively, suddenly realizing how bad of an idea this had been. “Tell me,” he hissed, “or this will be rather unpleasant.”

Emma swallowed, trying to stem the rush of fear. To hell with the timeline. “I’m from the future.”

His brow rose sharply, surprise and a little confusion slipping into that cold expression. Clearly time travel was not one of the things he’d expected her to say. 

It was the second time she’d surprised him, and Emma knew he wasn’t an easily surprised man.

Before he could interrupt, she went on, wincing as the sharp tip of his hook stung. “I’m telling you the truth,” she said quickly, fear sending a shiver down her spine. “I’m from… about thirty years in the future. I think. It’s really hard to keep track with all the curses," she finished, which even to her ears sounded like she was crazy.

“Time travel is unheard of.” said Hook, dismissing her whole story.

"You spend two hundred years on an island where time doesn't even exist and this is too crazy for you to imagine?" snapped Emma exasperatedly.

He ignored her. “Now, what are you really doing on my ship? Clearly if you’d gotten what you wanted, you wouldn’t have been daft enough to return.” His eyes looked her up and down, his brow lifting when his eyes reached hers, and Emma glared at him. “And if I had gotten what I wanted, that night would not have ended with you injuring me.” A cold smile. “Well, not in the traditional way, anyway.”

Emma huffed out a breath, almost forgetting just how innuendo-clad he once was. “Look, I’m telling the truth . I need your help to—“ She gasped, the tip of his hook digging slightly deeper. 

“You will tell me what I want to know,” said Hook quietly. He removed his namesake, and Emma winced. “I’ll give you the night to think it over. Lie to me again," his voice lowering, dipping into the personification of danger as his gaze bored into hers, and she tried not to shrink under it, "you’ll be walking the plank in the morning.” He moved away from her, and Emma realized she'd forgotten how to breathe.

“Hook—“ began Emma, but Hook simply barked, “Jenkins!”

The door opened, and one of the men who had dragged her down here walked inside. 

“Take her to the brig.”

Emma’s heart pounded. “No— Hook,” she said quickly as he sat nonchalantly back at his desk. “I need—“

Emma was grabbed from behind and forced out. 

He didn’t look up as they took her. 

But when he thought she was out of sight, she saw him briefly touch his fingers to his lips, something unreadable stirring in his eyes.

-.-.-.-.

Emma waited until she was left alone, and the ship had quieted down enough to suggest the crew was asleep.

They’d bound her hands in front of her, which was their first mistake. 

Feeling a sense of deja vu, Emma felt along the ground until she found something useful. Finding something sharp and thin enough to work, she quickly got to work on the lock to the cage. 

The trouble was opening the door without it creaking, which took her plenty of precious minutes. 

Once free, she left the brig, and quietly made her way to the armory.

It was good that she was familiar with the ship after Neverland. Plenty of hours on the water had her nervous energy getting the better of herself and she’d done some extensive exploring. She’d paced the ship enough to know where its creaky boards were, so she was inside the armory in silence quickly. 

Emma grabbed the first blade she could find—a knife—and freed her hands, then took the gag from her mouth. 

Gripping the knife in her shaking hands, Emma left the armory, walking down the hallway to the door at the very end. 

The Captain’s Quarters. 

Feeling plenty of uncertainty, but needing to know where Killian was, Emma slowly reached for the door handle, glad the ridiculously loud chorus of snoring from the crew covered much of the noise she made. 

Slowly and without breathing, she opened his door. 

Emma shut it just as quietly, and the noise of the snoring was muted. 

Emma turned. 

The cabin was dark. 

And there, lying on his bed, was Hook. Asleep.

She could see him breathe beneath the blanket. 

Carefully, and avoiding every creak in the floor she knew of, Emma crept up to his bed. 

Then, she held the knife an inch from his throat, opening her mouth to wake him.

“Do I need to explain what a nightcap is to you?”

Emma jumped a mile in her skin.

Hook’s eyes were open, and he looked from the knife at his throat to Emma. A raised brow, he deadpanned, “You escaped.”

“You underestimated me.” she countered. He lifted his brow as Emma continued firmly, “I need you to help me.”

“Help me?” he echoed. His eyes flicked from the knife to her eyes. “You’re taking your life in your hands threatening me, lass.” he said dangerously.

“I’m trying to save your life!” snapped Emma.

His brow hitched higher, again flicking his eyes pointedly to the blade, then back at her. 

Emma sighed, removing the knife from his throat. 

He still didn’t move, eyeing her still suspiciously. “How is it you think you’re saving me?” he asked. 

Emma sighed shortly. “Look. I told you I was from the future. I am. I’m from your future. And I didn’t get sent to the past alone.” She took a breath, hoping telling him wouldn’t implode the timeline. But she was scared, she was alone, and without his information, she would never be able to find Killian. She could only hope that after she saved Killian, he’d still exist when they returned to their time. 

Emma sighed. “When I got sent here, you came with me.” she said finally.

Confusion kneaded his brows with honest puzzlement, and for the first time he looked almost like her Killian. “I… what?” he managed.

Emma sighed shortly. “You— future you,” clarified Emma. “You’re here, in the past, too.”

Hook looked lost in thought for a second. Then— “That was bloody real?”

“What was?” asked Emma.

He sat up, regarding her with both suspicion and shock. “The dream I thought I had of you, up until you foolishly returned.” Emma glared at him flatly as he went on, “I saw…”

“Yourself,” finished Emma impatiently. “Yeah. You punched yourself.” At his very perplexed expression, she went on, “I told him—you—it was a bad idea. So, blame yourself.” He blinked in utter confusion. But, at least, he seemed to believe her story. “Look,” said Emma, “we were on our way back to the future when some huge guys kidnapped him because they said he stole something and he needed to ‘pay for it’.” she finished in a bad facsimile of Killian’s abductor’s voice. Her eyes burning into Hook’s, she said, “What did you steal? Who are they and where did they take him?”

“You’re telling me,” said Hook slowly, “that there is a future version of me out here?”

“Yes,” said Emma through gritted teeth. “Now what did you—“

“Tell me, love,” said Hook casually enough, though the coldness in his words was back. “What is my future?”

“I can’t tell you that,” she said exasperatedly. “Already I need to get you a Forgetting Potion to make sure you get to that future.”

He stared at her for a long moment, a million things happening behind guarded eyes. But finally, his brow lifted a fraction. “And I’m just supposed to believe this?" 

Emma groaned. “What proof do you want?” she said impatiently. “Your father abandoned you and Liam; you used to be in the Royal Navy; you became a pirate after what happened to Liam in Neverland; you’re currently on a suicidal mission to kill Rumplestiltskin for taking your hand and Mila—“

“Stop!” 

Emma froze, having been angrily ticking off the trivia on her fingers, to see Hook’s eyes with more emotion than she’s seen from this version of him yet. 

“How do you know all that?” he breathed. For once, his voice lost Hook’s edge, and he sounded like Killian. The danger evaporated from him in seconds, replaced with something almost... lost. “It’s—it's been centuries since—"

“You told me.” said Emma simply. 

“I… told you,” repeated Hook flatly, words rolling off his tongue like something foreign. The edge in his voice swiftly returned as he demanded angrily, “And why the bloody hell would I do that?” 

“How should I know?” snapped Emma, her anxiety getting to her and sharpening her own tone.

He rose to his feet, and Emma did not like the feeling that he was attempting to use his height over hers to intimidate her. He leveled a look at her, with something different in his eyes, something dangerous in a new way. “Tell me one thing, lass," he began, voice casual-sounding, but underlined with something that sent a shiver down her spine, "and maybe I help you.”

“Why wouldn’t you help me?” exclaimed Emma, standing her ground. “You’d be helping you!”

“That remains to be seen.” He stepped toward her, and damn it he didn’t even need the hook to be imposing. “Tell me, lass.” Another step, and Emma felt her back hit the wall, not even realizing she’d been retreating. His gaze bored into hers. “Do I get my revenge?”

Emma swallowed, suddenly feeling a familiar sense of dread as to when the past version of Rumplestiltskin had asked about whether or not he found Neal.

When the silence spread a little too long, she whispered, “Hook—”

“Do I, or not?” he demanded, voice clipped. Cold.

Dangerous.

Emma felt paralyzed.

The Hook—the Killian —standing before her was completely hellbent on getting his revenge. He’s been at it for centuries, and the anger and pain in his eyes overpowered the blue in them, so much so it was hard to remember that Killian and Hook were the same person.

And here, Hook was his vengeance right now.

There was hardly a spark of him.

If she told him the truth, that he not only doesn’t kill his crocodile, but chooses to live peacefully in the same town as the monster? Gives up not only his quest for vengeance, but turns into a hero?

And worse yet, that he lets go of Milah?

For her?

From the amount of anger she’s eliciting from him right now, she doubted he’d be happy to know that information in particular.

So, she decided to tell him the truth.

Or…

Part of it.

“No,” she said finally, watching his brow shift dangerously. “Not yet.”

He searched her eyes, his face like stone. “Not yet?” he repeated, voice low, almost threatening.

Emma swallowed the fear slipping down her spine, hoping she was still as good of a liar as she once was. “Not yet,” she confirmed, which, still, wasn’t a complete lie. She took a breath, holding his gaze, preparing herself. 

And she lied.

“I’m helping you get your revenge in the future,” she said smoothly. “The Dark One is currently living in a realm without magic. He’s vulnerable. I’m helping you get there.” She swallowed, her entire body rigid. Hook was pin-silent as Emma finished, “We accidentally got sent to the past on our way there. That’s why I need you to help me. If you don’t, you will never get your revenge.”

Emma fell quiet, holding her head high, clinging onto confidence she didn’t feel in the slightest.

Killian could read her like an open book.

If this version of him was as perceptive as he comes to be…

If he found her lying to him…

Again …

Emma tried to ignore the fear prickling in her veins.

He held her gaze, pinning her to the spot with his eyes alone. Watching her eyes carefully, his narrowed. 

Finally, he said, “Why are you helping me?”

Emma tried not to flinch at the obvious distaste in his voice. She thought fast, and found something that held nothing but truth. “Because,” she said, “you did me a favor. I’m repaying a debt.”

His brow lifted. “Quite the debt.”

Emma felt something stir in her chest, thinking of all that Killian has done for her. “It was quite the favor,” she said quietly.

His brows kneaded with question, like he wasn’t sure why he would bother to do her a favor.

Emma was quickly becoming irritated with this version of Hook.

“How are you helping me?” he asked then, gaze boring into hers, almost as if he was trying to poke holes into her story to see if it would leak. “Why do I need you?”

It was spoken so carelessly.

And it hurt.

Emma was surprised at the sudden burn behind her eyes.

She’d brushed off Killian’s affections, his obvious devotion to her, more times than she could count. 

And here he was, looking at her like he couldn’t have cared about her less.

How could she have wasted all the time she had with him?

Getting him back now was the longest of long shots, for—and it made sharp fear race down her spine— he could already be dead.

Blinking away the emotion, Emma huffed out a breath, trying not to appear as hurt by his words as she was. “I’ve got Light Magic,” she snapped, making surprise lift his brow. “You’re trying to kill the Dark One. Do the math.”

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes narrowed, danger rolling off him in waves.

Finally, he spoke.

“I help you, and, him,” he muttered, uneasily over what to call his future self, “get back to your time,” he said slowly, “and then I will get what I want most?”

Emma felt the ghost of a smile touch her lips, for she didn’t have to lie for this one. “Yes.” 

He most definitely will. 

-.-.-.-. TBC

@belovedcreation-kitr-headcanon @cssecretsanta2020 @belovedcreation

[vaguelyaperson]

the more i think about it, the more i like that izuku becomes a teacher as a quirkless adult, and that he supposedly never takes on full-time hero work

... it just wouldn't feel like such an odd ending if it wasn't such a sharp turn from the themes of the story.

it would beat a dead horse to get into such themes: the insistence that izuku could be a [pro] hero too, save to win win to save (implication of bkdk as hero duo), go beyond to achieve your dreams, ect. others have commented on this eloquently enough. i want to contemplate how 430/431 are a valid ending... if the story matched the conclusion.

bnha has themes that could've been developed to make 430/431 make more sense. there's the excellent theme that average citizens can be heroes through 'mundane' actions, and a suggestion that an ideal future would be one where heroes have too much free time (ie, pro heroes overall would be a defunded profession). i personally adore these themes, and was disappointed that the ending didn't explore more of what a better quirk culture should look like beyond 'uraraka reforms quirk education classes.' those themes (plus the commentary on villains) suggested an eventual overhaul of the current quirk culture - which we didn't get. which sucks. because these themes, properly developed, would make PERFECT sense of a protagonist who decides to be an 'average citizen.'

yet these ideas weren't quite attributed to izuku's character. he's the protagonist. he was set up for the big flashy future, right? which is why it feels like such a sudden slap to so many fans that he was supposedly content working as a teacher for eight years, that he wouldn't jump at the opportunity to become a full time hero.

now, a good bit of this can be attributed to story medium. bnha was skewed in the beginning to function as a standard shounen (boy has powers, boy works hard, boy achieves big dreams), and that it wasn't until about the last hundred chapters or so that horikoshi dug his heels in about writing the story he wants to write. so clearly if the story's endgoal changed in his mind (which stories often do, and manga is extremely restrictive in that an author can't rewrite the full story to make the plot consistent), then he only had so much leeway to lead to the eventual ending of a quirkless citizen izuku without taking the hardest turn from the standard shounen tone at the beginning.

but even then. even then, that's about a hundred chapters that bnha could've introduced the idea that IZUKU could be a hero in ways unrelated to professional heroism. that it's so unhealthy for this kid to sacrifice so much of himself that it would actually be better for him to pursue a different career.* or that it was even a valid career path for someone who initially dreamed of being a pro hero.

like, take lemillion; izuku's literal mirror. the story could've kept togata functionally quirkless, could've explored the full grief of such a big dream lost, could've explored the sheer injustice that this KID was put on the front-line and thus his quirk and dream were snatched from him... and then introduced a way that togata could use his skills to help people in a different career.

or take all might; izuku's mentor and cautionary tale. maybe have all might talk to izuku about grappling with being quirkless again. maybe have him find who he is beyond being of service to others (which is clearly these two born-quirkless fuckers dealing with massive self-worth issues, trying to justify their existence with heroics), and find relief in that. maybe have him wonder aloud if it might have been better for him to choose such a profession outright from the beginning, rather than repeatedly almost DIE as a pro-hero. maybe have the two revisit that conversation from the first episode, that being a [quirkless] hero IS dangerous, but that there is genuine fulfillment in other work - as all might has found in teaching.

then when it happens to izuku, it wouldn't be such a shock to the audience. and even if we don't see him change over those eight years of the epilogue, it wouldn't be such a shock that he turns down full-time hero work. we'd get it.

*because continuing off this point: the story very much established that izuku CAN'T be trusted 'unsupervised' as a pro hero. that ofa is almost a curse. how many fuckin fanworks reference an adult izuku who never stops putting himself into harms way, who keeps nearly fuckin dying (or does die) cause he never thinks of himself? the story could've EASILY built on this to the point that it would feel like a blessing that izuku loses ofa and can't become a pro-hero.

(instead of it being played in this.... extremely weird.... grieved not grieved, katsuki's sobbing but izuku 'started out quirkless' so it's fine??? like??? the tone??? is in shambles???)

instead, the story said "you don't have to fight alone, izuku, cause your friends are here." most especially that katsuki inserted himself as izuku's primary protector and competitor. that katsuki developed a whole ass power-up that could MATCH ALL FOR ONE'S power, that he CAUGHT UP to izuku as a hero. at large, class a showed the fuck up, more than once, to throw down on izuku's behalf. the story said, yes izuku is recklessly selfless, and ofa only exasperates this, but his friends are so determined to work hard to make sure there's always someone at his back. this will be the new generation of heroes.

... which... should've led to a completely different story conclusion. one that would've been just as valid as 'izuku finds more stability and meaning in being a teacher.' it would just need to be an ending that would have fit the established themes. i would've loved that ending too.

in conclusion! there's more to being a hero than flashy heroic acts. izuku is a selfless maniac who's probably safer in the classroom tbh. manga is a restrictive medium that can't be rewritten into a more consistent plot. nevertheless, given the amount of chapters horikoshi had to play with the story he wanted to tell, there was time to develop pre-existing themes that would better anticipate the conclusion we got. 430 and gods 431 especially - despite being arguably a valid ending for the characters - didn't have to feel like such sharp left turns.

... and despite learning to appreciate izuku turning down katsuki's agency offer, i still don't like 431. lmao

[gildedbirdcage-if]

Your fingers threaten to do so, even now, but you recall Orion telling you there’s certain things you can only do when you’re young. That things lose their innocence as you get older.

You hear Alek, but you are not doing a very good job at listening. His face is awfully close to yours, in a way that could mean something when you’re older. The way Orion warned you. The way your novels sometimes end.

I'm not sure if you take requests for snippets, but if so could we please get a flashback of Orion having these talks with MC/warning them? It sounds like it would be both cute and funny with how sheltered the MC is! I understand if it's not possible though, so please don't feel pressured :)

So sorry to answer this so late- holidays are always so busy! Snippet down below- may not be exactly how it will be in the story but it’ll be something like this. Set around when MC is 15 and Orion is 14 with a crushing Orion because I can’t help myself. TW for slight alluding to sexual harassment/abuse. Please read at your own discretion and health. MDNI

You wake with a start.

It was not a very good day- filled with glares, comments, and shoves disguised poorly as accidents. It appeared such things couldn’t help but bleed into the night as well- into your very dreams. With such things invading your room, you fear there may never be an escape from the torment. No haven from this hate.

As quickly as you think there is no where to go, you remind yourself that of course there is. You could go to the kitchens in your wing that houses Orion. Grumpy with you as he may oft be, he was still a much happier option than being alone. He would never lay a hand on you and it has seemed like ages since he’s uttered a truly hateful word to you- whether that be because he found you more agreeable these days or because he was sick of Alek in his ear, you may never know.

You fling blankets off of you, rush to the window, and fling the curtains in a similar fashion. Outside the window, the sky was pitch black and the only light to cover the world is a rather full and bright moon.

Well… even better, you think to yourself. Likely Orion still sleeps and it’s been an awful long time since you’ve had a sleepover with anyone. The poison of the day, try as it might to get you in the night, could not get you when such a wonderfully genius idea manifests itself.

You arrange the curtains back to sorts and spin away from the window, the skirt of your nightgown expanding momentarily around you as you do, and set your sights on the door to exit your room and begin to roam through the empty halls.

The halls are silent, save the thumping of your bare feet, and you are grateful for this. People would only ruin the beautiful mood you’ve put yourself in with your brilliant idea and you simply can not, will not, stand for it. It’s a shame Alek isn’t home for you to share your idea, you hadn’t had a sleepover with him in so long either. Alek and Orion’s lives seem too busy for such things any more while you… well, you just seemed to float from one day to the next. Unchanging.

Time has robbed you of sleepovers, days where you would play all day, and days where it seemed all you had was each other. Now Alek leaves home more than he stays, puts his life in danger, and has become quite set on becoming the commander of the army one day. When you are most lonely and sad, he assures you in letters that someday you’ll understand. That if he could do it all from home he would. That it hurts him to leave you so. You wish you could tell him how hollowing it can be to one day feel like you were the center of someone’s world and the next realize you aren’t. But you are being unreasonable, Orion has told you many a time, and a country does not simply protect itself.

Orion, while in no great danger, similarly is too busy to entertain you. He minds you less and less occupying a corner in his kitchens but he is lost in the flurry of the work and he has no time to listen to what kind of bug you saw and what patterns it held, the way you got stuck trying to find a good hiding place for a game that you, Alek, and Orion no longer play, or how the sparks from the fireplace cracked so loud and reached so far you scrambled away so quickly with a fit of giggles lest it set you ablaze. How heartbreaking it was to make sounds at people but they never truly hear. Orion has his dreams of being the best chef in the castle, no, the country, he tells you, and he must work his hardest each day to achieve that. No noble wouldn’t know his name.

But look at you, making your own eyes water when you have set yourself on no one ruining your mood or idea. It seems you cannot let your guard down even against your own thoughts.

You enter Orion’s domain, the kitchens his room is attached to, and it’s as you’ve always known it. Orion runs a tight ship and the only imperfect, messy piece is the corner dedicated just for you that he allows no one to touch. Projects you start but never finish decorate it and you have to pry yourself from the idea of just setting up camp right then and there for the day. Sleepover, you remind yourself.

Opening the door, you smile at how very Orion this room is- as it ought to be seeing it is his. The moon shines it’s light through his window giving you the ability to see how tidy and very grownup the room is, not even a spare sock to be seen. Very different from your own room that you couldn’t care less if everything looked prim and proper. Dark blue, his favorite color since before you met him, is found everywhere here and adds to his air of sophistication.

The only childish thing that spoils the room can be found on his desk, in bright colors that betray the somber room. Your heart awkwardly beats at the sight… they were pictures you’ve drawn just for him, poems you wrote and stories from when you figured yourself an accomplished author, lyrics you wrote that you thought rather charming. Something unnameable warmed in you as you stared at it- it was not lost on you that in Orion’s busy, tidy, controlled, and uniform life he somehow found a corner just for you and no one else to have in his two most lived in places.

Unsure if he would have wanted you to see that he still kept the things you’ve given him over the years, you turn to his bed where he sure enough is sleeping, unaware of your entering.

The brown hair he’s been growing out is splattered across his pillow and messy as he sleeps on his side, facing the window, and he cuddles a pillow tightly to himself. His scars from his occupation shine like silver in the moonlight on his arms around the pillow. While mostly covered in a blanket, you can see his bare back, also scarred, and wonder why he is allowed to wear less clothes as time marches on but you must wear more. Thankfully, Orion does not wear nothing and you can see the waistband of sleep pants.

You come across your first hurdle here… normally, you would not have any problems with simply waking him up but he seems so peaceful here, so deeply asleep with his small snores here and there, that you fear you would feel guilty getting in the way of that. You cannot lay yourself quietly at his back due to how he sleeps and his bed is not as large as yours to find a place for yourself. Maybe at one time you could but Orion has grown too tall, unfortunately.

Troubling, indeed.

Well… Orion, you, and the pillow obviously can’t fit so you become resolved to remove the offending pillow. Crawling onto his bed, you pull at the pillow until it is set free, launch it somewhere in the room, and wiggle yourself in it’s place and you are immediately warm and comfortable.

Orion, in his sleep, seems perfectly unaware that the pillow has vanished and his strong arms wrap around you quite tightly. There’s something about the hold that makes you feel feverish and makes it hard to breathe… but you feel safe, nonetheless. Bad dreams can’t afflict you here.

Getting a good look at his face, your eyes are drawn to the crease his eyebrows create. Even in sleep, Orion finds a way to somehow have a scowl about him. Inching your hands to it, you can’t help but press at it and attempt to massage it away. You used to be skeptical when Alek’s mother would say that if you had your face a certain way it would get stuck like that… but now you think she may have been telling the truth.

Orion grumbles at your attentions, stretches his legs, tightening his arms about you more somehow, and opens his eyes a smidge and looks at you. You have been caught, which really should not come as a shock to you. Really, you can’t just touch someone’s face as you are and think they wouldn’t feel it.

Staring at you bleary-eyed, Orion plucks your hand away from his brow and places it on his chest, near his heart you dare say, before closing his eyes and placing his arms back around you just so… rubbing soothingly at knots that are not there.

You have no opportunity to make anything of it before his eyes shoot back open, wide, and he gasps- untangling himself and falling to the floor with a thud that causes you to wince.

He takes the blankets with him, pulls them up to cover his chest, and says, “What in God’s name are you doing in my room?”

His tone makes you feel as though, perhaps, your idea was not as brilliant as you thought.

“I… I was having bad dreams from the day and I thought-“ you begin.

Orion cuts you off. “I’m quite certain you weren’t thinking anything. My God, did anyone see you enter here?”

He gets up then and fetches a shirt to put on while you feel like you should get up and flee. Lock yourself up in your room. Hide away from your friend’s ire.

“I was not seen, I was not heard… I’m sorry, Orion, I just… I had a bad day that became a bad night and wanted to be with someone. Have a sleepover like we used to. Remember?”

You want to add that you don’t understand his anger, it never mattered before. Why would something as small as a sleepover matter now?

Still facing away from you, you hear Orion take a very slow, very large intake of air and expel it equally as slow. You recognize it, it happens often enough. It’s the kind of breath Orion breathes when he is trying to find his patience with you. You place your hands in your lap, fiddling with your thumbs, and look down at them feeling quite chastised.

You hear him walk back to the bed and you glance at him through your lashes, more so peeking at him. Orion’s stare goes from your exposed shoulder where your nightgown has shifted to your exposed legs- the kerfuffle had set your nightgown out of sorts without you realizing. Carefully, avoiding touching your skin, he fixes your sleeve and then grabs the hem of your nightgown to pull it back over your legs. As an extra layer, he throws the blanket about you to cover you up. You didn’t think you were so chastised that you were shaking… you figure he must have thought if you were shivering that you were cold with how he was covering you.

Orion kneels on the ground in front of the bed and seems to have a hard time looking you in the eye. “I need you to understand we’re not little anymore.”

Well, that was silly. Obviously you knew that. He and Alek have become like trees in the last year or so.

“I know,” you respond, confused why he would say that.

He takes another calming breath. “No, you don’t. I need you to understand we’re not children anymore.”

That bothers you. “Yes we are. Alek’s mother still calls us children. She wouldn’t do that if we were grown up.”

He looks you in the eye now and you can tell you’re still not hearing him the way he wants you to.

“We are not children, MC, and we’re not grownups either. We’re awkwardly in the middle but I need you to understand that it still means something. You cannot… sneak into a man’s room, especially one seen as a servant, in the middle of the night in just a nightgown.”

“What else should I wear for a sleepover? This is what I’ve always worn.”

Orion runs his hands through his hair. He looks a mixture of embarrassed and frustrated and you’re not sure why.

“We can’t have sleepovers anymore, MC, and when I say that I mean that you and I can’t. You and Alek can’t. Those days are over and gone. It means something different now.”

You feel your lip quiver at the mention of your days of fun, of being around them whenever you so choose, being over. Gone.

You feel that wall you thought of earlier begin to add more bricks between you and Orion. Maybe even Alek too. This knowledge that they’re so privy to while you stay infantile to them. You are older than Orion and yet that can’t be. They move on, they run, while you seem to never be able to move on beyond a crawl.

“Don’t do that,” Orion says, sounding a little taken aback by your apparent heartbreak and hurt.

“You’re just being cruel, the way Alek says you like to be in some misguided way.” You say, sniffles finding their way into the sentence.

You can almost see him cursing Alek.

“Maybe I am being cruel but I’m doing what no one else will do and telling you the way of the world. I would give anything for this to be someone else’s job but I can’t let you be ignorant any longer. It’s dangerous now to let you continue on this way. Everyone can treat you like a baby who says a word wrong but never corrects them because they find it cute but I won’t do that to you.” Orion says with great feeling.

Deep down, you know he is not intentionally being cruel the way he was when you first met. It was unfair to accuse him of it. Orion is pulling weight in your life that he shouldn’t have to.

He sees you are listening now.

“People like you are sold to the highest bidder when they’re young and I don’t think you’ll be safe from it for forever. And even if you are… there’s people out there, evil people, who will take advantage of you not knowing… things. You need to know how it is. Between people.”

“Things lose their innocence as we get older,” Orion continues. “That’s why you can’t have sleepovers anymore or be seen with us in just a nightgown. I know, Alek knows, that you sneaking into our beds means nothing… but anyone else? Anyone who would catch you doing that would think you did mean something. That you did something. That you’re- that we- anyways, you just can’t do that, okay?”

No, it wasn’t okay and you didn’t understand.

“Okay,” you say quietly, sadly.

Orion sighs heavily, his frustration moving from you to himself. “I- I don’t think I can explain the ins and the outs to you of what I want you to know. I thought I could but it’s… awkward and embarrassing, all right? Just… know that you can’t go sleeping with- next- know that you can’t have sleepovers anymore with me or Alek. And you tell us if someone tries to get you to, okay? You don’t agree, you don’t say anything, you just run as fast as you can to me or Alek’s family.”

He moves to tip your chin to make sure you’re looking at him, that you’re still listening. All you can do is nod your head. You understand he needs you to know this is important, and you do, but you don’t understand at all. You still feel rather unfairly chastised when you don’t know what you’ve done wrong… just that you have done wrong.

Orion drops his hand like it burns and looks embarrassed still, a rarity that you can’t even enjoy because you feel so down and ashamed.

“I’ll see if I can get a book or something so you can learn. Or maybe writing it would be easier on me and then you can burn it. I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. For now, you need to go back to your room before everyone wakes up. Go back to sleep. No more coming here at night.”

You come out the the blanket cocoon and head to the door, wordlessly doing as he asks. Orion seems restless at your silence.

Before you can leave, Orion grabs the crook of your elbow and pulls you back to face him.

“I didn’t want to- I didn’t mean to- why don’t I make your favorite for breakfast? And- and we’ll play that game I hate. The one where we have to draw something and the other guesses. The one you’re so good at. I’ll even make your favorite dessert for when you win.”

It’s awkward, him being so kind. You appreciate him trying.

You give him your best smile but even you know it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Okay.”

But you don’t leave your room that day. Today you hide away in your room, door firmly locked, and stay with your books and drawings that you wear as armor against growing up. At things changing. At your friends going upwards and onwards. At all the unknowns and things you’re ignorant to.

You will face the world on another day.

On this day, you cry.

[melisshivering]

HEARTSTEEL Dating Headcanons

A/N: I miss them your honor.

Kayn: Kayn’s idea of a date would DEFINITELY be something out of the house. I don’t think he can ever find sitting in one place for too long entertaining. Unless it’s pranking or teasing one of his bandmates which he would get scolded for by Yone soon after. The rush of adrenaline he gets while doing something spontaneous was unmatched to anything else. Besides being with you. He’d probably be laying on the couch with you proposing ideas of what you two could be doing which you’d quickly reject. You can’t let him tempt you. He sighs out of frustration. “Come on! Don't act like you don’t love messing around with me.” He’s right, and you give in. 

You two end up getting out of the house and walking around the city together. Not to do any window shopping or normal. Instead he’s taking you to some spots he’s been meaning to check out, most of them being places where you shouldn’t be. He understands it might not be your idea of fun. He reassures you that he would never abandon you if things got bad. He’s keeping an eye out in case you get seen by someone who knows you two shouldn’t be there. Before you two could even start trying to explore the off limits area you feel a tug on your arm.

Kayn pulling you into one of the dark alleyways, Your bodies closely pressed together as he hushes any protest. He explains to you that he heard the footsteps of someone. You stay there for a moment hiding from what he thought was a security guard coming around the corner. Or at least that's what you still believe. He should be looking more worried, shouldn't he. He’s not worried though. He just has a dumb smug look on his face like always. Even if this was just a ploy to get you close, could you really complain.

Ezreal: Ezreal would love to take you somewhere that he can use some of his skills from being an idol. He loves being able to do something almost flawlessly and receiving praise. Your praise means significantly more to him than that of a stranger. He excitedly pulls you along to the entrance of an arcade. So many different machines all with different colors on the screens and catchy songs playing from them, trying to tempt people to spend money. 

Ezreal begins directing your attention to the huge line of people waiting to play the DDR machine. If you don't exactly love rhythm games he’s pleading, practically begging you for one game with him. He picks the song (probably kpop) and reassures you that you can choose the easy setting if you aren't confident in playing. He would even play on easy if you asked. You can see that Ezreal gets super happy once the song starts, humming along and occasionally sings the lyrics of the song while his eyes are fixed on the screen pressing the correct arrows. If he notices that you aren’t having the best time he would use his flash to change his position. Backwards. Handstand. Hitting all kinds of silly poses just to make you laugh and distract you from the pressure. 

Ezreal also desperately tries to win you something from the crane machines. Watching all the other couples walk around with huge plushies in their arms just fuels him more. He spends too much. Like way too much money. But it’s you so it's worth it. At home later when you are both in bed he shows you the picture again this time with stickers that put cat ears on your head and emoticons surrounding you that he edited in.

Sett It really is a coin flip with Sett. He cares more on how you are feeling. If you want to go out you two go out. If you want to stay home you stay home. If you leave the house for the date it’s probably for a really cute picnic that he planned. A basket full of different food and drinks you both like. Sett lays down all the food he brought out in front of the both of you and you two dig in. Having a conversation in between bites. He would point towards certain dishes or snacks and say “When I saw it I had to get/make it for you.” 

When it started to get dark he made sure to take care of putting everything away. Throwing away empty containers and rerolling the blankets as you two made your way out of the park. He really appreciates you and just wants to take care of you that day. Not that he doesn’t think you can help clean up or carry things but he does work out a lot. What is it all for if it's not to treat you like royalty. 

If it's a date at home then it would be you too on the couch crocheting things for each other. Which he is surprisingly good at. Most would think a guy like things was purely a gym bro. Sett was in fact capable of many things. Drinks and snacks on the table as you both focus on trying to make your pieces come out as good as possible. Occasional grunts of frustration if things go awry. He'll give you pointers or guide your hands if you ask for assistance. His hands are warm against yours as your quiet evening continues. Eventually you finish your creation and he praises you for a job well done.

Yone

It’s often hard for Yone to have any free time. Even his days off are interrupted by calls or texts from the boys. His day of relaxation is now interrupted as he tries to clean up the mess they got themselves into. Normally he’s cooped up in his office or the recording studio. Any dates previously would be a quick trip to the local coffee shop since the man can’t live without caffeine. Occasionally there were work dates but he felt bad thinking it made you feel like less important than his job. 

But after pulling a few strings he made sure they wouldn’t bother him, allowing him to take a well deserved day with you.  You were a bit surprised when he formally asked you on a date. Taking you to one of the places he found relaxing. A tranquil botanical garden near the outskirts of the city. 

The trail of the garden was pretty uneven. He doesn’t want you to have difficulty walking with him so he lets you hold onto his arm and holds his hand out to you. Making sure every uneven step wouldn’t result in an accident. The stress washes away. “I’m grateful we can spend time like this..” Gentle words and praises were all you heard as you both took in the sighs of the foliage and trees. He’s almost sad as he notices the sky starting to darken. He promises to you that he’ll work hard to earn another day off to spend more time with you. You reassure him that you know he loves what he does. He needn’t feel shame for that. He may not be a big fan of PDA but being with you makes him feel like he has to do everything in his power to express his love. He gives you a deep kiss. He takes his time but doesn't let himself get carried away before you two make your way back home.

Aphelios

After getting with Aphelios you know better than anyone how he feels being out in public. So it shouldn’t be a surprise to you when he wants to spend time with you it’ll be at home 110% of the time. He finds it more intimate and enjoys the simple times with you. Where you two are just sitting, enjoying each other's company. Most if not all your dates involve both of you rummaging the kitchen for any snacks that haven’t been eaten by the other members. A soft blanket on the couch for both of you to be enveloped in later in the night. 

Remote in your hand since he wants your dates to be enjoyable. He lets you decide what to watch. Aphelios never disagrees with your choices since you seem to magically always choose something good. Or something he had been planning to watch. Even without him telling you. If you are the kind of person who rambles on about a subject related to the movie/video he will divert his attention to you. Yeah the film may be covering the things you're saying in a more professional way but the passionate tone you use is hypnotic to him. There's no way he would prefer some person reading from a script than you speaking from the heart. 

He is happy when you wait at him expectantly for his reaction to some vital pieces of the story and he usually is caught off guard. He will hand you snacks or a drink in intervals throughout the date, wanting to make sure your needs are met. You also do the same which he appreciates because it's common for Aphelios to ignore his own needs. Take care of him please 

K’Sante

K’Sante would also take you out on the down. Your date starts with the two of you sitting in a cute cafe together having a coffee together. Deciding together what you would be interested in seeing in the shopping district that day. Walking around the blocks of what felt like never ending stores. Everytime you two stop K’Sante asks if you’d to go inside. Declining the first few times since they seemed too fancy to even step foot into.

You two stop outside of a boutique with mannequins wearing elaborate clothing in the windows. A clothing store a bit more on the fancier end. K’Sante ends up explaining how he frequents the place and that he definitely recommends it. You give in because a date wouldn’t be a date if it was only window shopping. Going into some stores at least felt necessary to make sure the time was spent effectively. Being familiar with the place means that he knows exactly where to go. Already knowing your style and measurements, already having made and bought custom clothing for you. You pick out a bunch of different clothes still a bit hesitant about his offer. You didn't want to be rude and decline but also didn't want to spend too much. What even was the budget? Who knows. With K’Sante he saw no limit on what it took to get you happy. Even if there is a part inside him wanted to say that you’d never need to go out and spend money. That first statement couldn't be more true once he watched you step out of the changing rooms. Dressed in clothes that complemented not only your body but you entirely. Even if some items were overpriced he didn’t hesitate to buy you some pieces you felt like you couldn’t leave the store without.

Alune Alune would love a calm day to wind down with you. She will take you on a little date in the city with a lot of places she wants to visit. Even if she doesn’t end up buying anything she just loves having you by her side. Getting snacks from a convenient store. Grabbing all kinds of cute promotional items for whatever show is out and anything you two have already tried and loved. Alune happily places the basket of goodies on the checkout counter as she then pays for both of you. Next stop is the park.  Specifically, the one that has a big lake with a path around it. It's a nice break from her busy work days, managing the boys leaves little to no free time. You two end up taking small breaks on your walk. Sitting down on a bench under the shade of a tree simply just enjoying each other’s presence. A staple of going out with Alune is a trip to a local thrift shop. Walking down the aisles of clothes, calling each other over when you find a certain piece of clothing that would look cute on the other. If you two have similar styles it would be a playful game of “Who Can Find Cute Clothes First.”  Even then you two would give each other some of your finds just to make the other happy. Walking past other shops Alune would make comments on how she thinks one of the members would “totally be into something.” But more importantly you noted the things she says she's been eyeing. 

You come home with a bag of snacks, clothes, and self care products. You two have a mini fashion show before you both indulge in the pile of snacks you both picked out together. Ending the day with facemasks as you two decide what to watch that night.

[waywardwhispersblaze]

about Vi's ending

So, I get that a lot of people are unsatisfied with Vi's story arc in Arcane. I feel unsatisfied too. Here are some of my reasons. I wrote this as a response to another post initially, but I wanted to elaborate a little bit more.

So we know that the question the writers had for Vi was "what would happen if Vi had no one left to protect?"

"she would fall in love" is a lovely answer. I don't hate it, but it does feel like the bare minimum they could come up with... and even that had to be stripped for time. For instance, what does she want to do for a living?

That's not a random question. Her lore in the game tells us that she ends up working as an enforcer. Arcane makes it difficult for her at the beginning (you know, the enforcers-killed-my-parents thing), but we all expect that it's coming regardless.

I know a lot of people here never liked the idea of Vi becoming an enforcer. Not me. Give me Enforcer!Vi! Just make it a story, instead of skipping over it.

They had her join the enforcers in s2 act I for all the wrong reasons (guilt + fear of losing Caitlyn + thinking violence is the answer to her problems), which is not a bad thing, that's expected at this point of the story. They did skip over her motivations and left a lot to read between the lines, and that's frustrating in itself but that's not the problem. My problem with it is that it doesn't go anywhere. How does she feel about working with them in the end? Now that she's no longer blinded by her rage towards the Chembarons and Jinx's actions? Is it really just for Caitlyn's sake? Is there room in there somewhere for wanting to be a protector to the city, like Grayson did, if she even cares about that at all? (it makes sense that she doesn't in Arcane, but what about in the future? she's still a protector at heart, even if she has no family left) If she does, how does she reconcile that with what the enforcers are to the Undercity, does she genuinely think she can do some good? I could answer some of these with "oh well, she does end up as Caitlyn's partner so I'm just gonna go with 'yes' for convenience". But I wish Arcane had answered this for me.

What about the enforcers, how do they feel about her? Do they respect her? How would she interact with them in the future? Her only friend there, Loris, died at the end of S2 (I'm annoyed about that. not mad, not sad. Just annoyed), so she's effectively alone.

I suppose the root of the problem is that I watched Arcane with the expectation that Vi would end up as a Piltover champion by the end of it. That's not an unreasonable expectation considering her lore, but I can accept that Arcane just wasn't about "ending" character stories or bringing them to their lore counterpart. That's fair. Even within the story of Arcane though, where she ends up isn't fully satisfying. She's physically in Piltover, but mentally she's in a place where she doesn't really belong anywhere except with 1 (one) person, and we still have no idea what she wants to do with her life (outside of banging Caitlyn that is). Don't get me wrong, I love caitvi! I love what they did with them as a pair! But I have so many questions about Vi specifically that are unresolved.

Maybe that's the point. Arcane's ending is an open ending after all. But Caitlyn had a story arc outside of her relationship with her. Jinx had a story arc outside of her relationship with her. Even if their overall stories are not over, the Arcane story does leave them both in a place where they have grown from what they went through and even if we never see them again, we can feel like their story had a proper conclusion. Arcane doesn't leave Vi with a conclusion outside of her romance arc. Or to be fair, maybe it is a conclusion, just no one that I like / was hoping for. I sort of get that her not being able to grow was the point (to further Jinx's development. A lot of their scenes together were always more about Jinx's development and framed from Jinx's POV, which is a different complaint and an entirely different post). Not having agency at all was the point. But where does she go from there? Genuine question. Her character arc doesn't feel finished.

A lot of my frustrations would be soothed over if we had the certainty of having spin-offs. But 1) nothing is ever certain, 2) if something's coming, it's probably far in the future, 3) if and when it does come, there's no guarantee that Vi wouldn't be more than a background character.

Unfortunately, the general feeling I get from the writers' interviews is that they do feel like they really did get her where they wanted, so I'm not particularly hopeful that they have more stories to tell with her. Outside of being Caitlyn's partner that is.

(no, I don't think they "don't care about" or "hate" her character by the way. That's twisting their words beyond recognition)

So that's why I can't feel fully satisfied with Vi's story. I still love Arcane. I'm still looking forward to seeing more of the Runeterra universe. But as someone who really liked Vi's character from the start, I'm left with crumbs. Hints of what could be, but never the full picture, and more questions than answers. And that's disheartening, to be honest.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

can someone please do a hayden fic or c.ai bot of what life is like during lockdown/pandemic 2020 or any year with him and it’s also the holidays?

it’s not an “out of box” idea when i’ve seen a lot of hayden x reader / hayden x writer bots on here and c.ai

please? 🥺🙏🏼

MISTLETOE..

The beginning of the quarantine with HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN was kind of crazy. At first, it was filled with fear for the future, for how it'd all end, how it'd last. Then, as weeks went by, it turned to trying new things (in bed), buying different toys, lingeries, etc. But now? It was just..boring. So thanks to God it was Christmas time and the scenery outside the window like inside the house changed.

Hayden shuffled into the room, still in his sweats and that one hoodie you’d been trying to steal for days, holding two mugs of hot cocoa. His curls were tousled since the early morning, and you've tried to take care of them, but he always managed to slip away. Large hands were holding Christmas cups filled to the brim with hot cocoa and double serving of whipped cream

“Alright,” he plopped down next to you on the couch with a sigh “what Christmas movie are we pretending to watch tonight?” He handed you your mug, fingers brushing against yours - such a simple thing, yet still making your heart flutter.

And again - the pandemic had been hard on everyone, but somehow, these moments with Hayden were easier to survive. Days blurred into weeks, weeks into months, but you’d found peace in the slow pace of it all-- cooking meals together, building LEGO sets at midnight, and dancing around the kitchen to Michael Bublé while you baked yet another batch of cookies you didn’t need.

He had this way of making even the worst days feel like the best ones.

Like the time he let you help him on the farm and eventually name all the sheep he had. Or when it was your birthday but you run out of the decorations so he used the toilet paper where he carefully wrote "happy birthday!" and wore the ugliest Christmas sweater you’d ever seen - the question was, from where he had bought it? Because you definitely didn't give him that.

Or the time you tried to teach him how to wrap presents..

It didn’t go well.

“This is why I just buy gift bags,” he’d muttered, staring hopelessly at the mangled piece of wrapping paper in his palms. You’d fumbled over laughing, watching how his handsome face was scrunched in so much confusion and tiredness of the whole wrapping paper thing

So tonight was no different. As the movie you pretended to watch played, you found yourself using him as your own teddy bear - arms wrapped around his waist, legs tangled over his lap, face nuzzled to his chest, breathing in his too-good-smelling cologne that often was enough to turn you on. His arm draped lazily over your shoulders, and every so often, he’d press a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring something sweet like, long fingers brushing over your hair

“C’mere, let me show you how photogenic we are,” he teased, pulling you onto his lap. He kissed your cheek right as the camera clicked, capturing the purest moment of laughter and love.

Later, you’d find yourselves in the kitchen, baking cookies.. again - your freezer will be full with sugar before the end of the year. Flour streaked his cheek, and he smirked when you pointed it out. “What?” he teased “You don’t like the rugged look?”

“You look ridiculous,” you giggled, but the way he kissed you--slow, gentle, like he had all the time in the world--made you blush like never before

Quarantine with Hayden wasn’t perfect. But it was yours, and that made it enough.

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