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daydreams-after-dark · 8 months ago

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Scientist Chan part 2 of ∞

Read Part 1 here

SMUT WARNING // MDNI ⚠️ scientist!Chan (Chris) x test subject fem!reader (feat. Video call with Minho)

Scientist Chan Masterlist

Scientist Christopher is doing experiments on making pussies come. He has a range of devices that he has been using on his subject each night. In part 1, Chris introduced sexual intercourse into the experiment, which was a success. In this installment, he explores your reaction to various sexual positions, and introduces anal penetration while on a video call with Professor Lee Minho Approx 5 minute read Unhinged level 🤡🤡🤡🤡

CW: master/dom x sub // unprotected vaginal and anal sex // videoing sex // livestream sex to colleague // anal penetration with devices // squirting // faux scientific observations // clitoral stimulation // potential masturbation

“Your pussy takes cock so well no matter what the position.” States Scientist Chris, for the benefit of his voice recorder.

It’s the fourth sexual position he has you in for the night. Starting with missionary on his desk with your legs over his shoulders, then on all fours where his cock seemed to reach even deeper parts of you, followed by you riding him facing him while he laid on the examination bed.

Now he’s got you reverse cowgirl, him sitting on his leather couch, you with a foot planted on the cushions either side of him while he lifts and drops your hips on his cock. You’ve been instructed to hold your vibrator against your clit, and under no circumstances are you allowed to remove it.

“Sir! Can’t…. Can’t take any more… pussy’s sore…” you cry out.

“Shh… I know you can give me one more. There’s… so much cream still leaking out of you.” He pants. “You’re my best test subject, yeah?”

“Mmm hmm… I’m a good girl… I wanna be good.”

“Then one more and I’ll stop.” He pulls you down hard onto his cock, and leans you back so your laying flush against his chest.

“Come for me.” He takes hold of the vibrator and rubs it hard against you while he grinds into your cunt.

You sob as you climax once more. You don’t know this, but one of Chris’ secret goals is to train you to come on demand.

You go limp against him, but he doesn’t let you rest.

“Quick. Up on the examination bed. I must inspect you.” He says, pulling up his trousers and putting his white coat back on.

“Yes. On your back. Open your legs…. Good girl.”

You’re naked, sweaty, still trembling from god knows how many orgasms. You close your eyes, happy to finally rest.

Snap. Snap. Click

You lift your head to see Chris taking photos of your swollen pussy.

“I’m just collecting evidence to show my colleagues.” He states. “Spread your lips for me. That’s it.”

Click. Snap. Click.

“Speaking of colleagues.” He pops his camera down and picks up his phone. “Remember how I told you about Professor Lee Minho?”

You nod.

“He wanted me to video call him and show him what he’ll be working with if he collaborates with me. Can we do that for him?” He asks.

Of course he can. Your Chris’ test subject and you want to help him with any experiment or project.

“Chris. Update me. How did she do tonight?” Professor Lee says through the phone.

“She did well. Her pussy adapted wonderfully to the positions. Although, it became fatigued and overstimulated by the end of it.” Chris gives his update.

“Show me.” Demands the professor, his voice laced with lust.

Chris moves the phone close to your pussy so the professor could see. He sucks in a breath. “Her labia is still engorged. Lovely.” He approves. “Spread her open.”

You use your fingers to spread your lips. “Her lubrication is of a creamy consistency.” The professor notes as Chris focuses on the camera on your hole. “And her clitoris looks agitated. How many orgasms?”

Chan checks his notes. “Six.”

“Is your test subject experienced with anal stimulation?”

Chris chuckles. “Well, friend. My plan was to begin that experiment tonight on our call. If you have time.”

“I’ve nothing on my schedule. It’d be my pleasure to witness this. Plus it’ll give me a good idea of what she can take when I’m visiting.”

Chris puts on his head strap that has a camera attached, and reconfigures his tech so Professor Lee can get a virtual front row seat of what he’s about to do.

He flicks the main lights off, and turns on the bright lamp, directing it on you so your holes are illuminated. Then he brings over a rolled up bag, placing it on his little table next to him, and settles himself on his stool at the end of the bed.

Unrolling the bag, he spreads its contents out carefully. Six anal plugs and vibrators of various sizes, and a bottle of lubrication.

“Let’s get you as comfortable as possible.” He says as he props your legs into straps that hold your knees up and open, essentially folding you in half.

“Fuck! Her little ass… ahem… anus is perfect isn’t it?” Professor Lee observes.

“It is. Ready to begin?” Chris checks in with you.

“Yes, Sir.” You gulp. You’re nervous but terribly excited.

Chris begins by dribbling some lube directly on your hole and onto his index finger. You gasp at the coldness, and then again when his finger presses against you. He uses the palm of one hand to hold you nice and wide while he massages your asshole with the pad of his finger. After a short moment, he reaches over to his little table and selects the smallest vibrating plug.

Neither of the men say a word as he lubricates the device and switches it on.

“Look how she reacts to just the sound of the vibrator.” Observes Professor Lee.

Chris has you so trained up that just the sound of a vibrator has your cunt gushing.

You moan low when it’s placed against your anus.

“Mmm… I think she’s going to like this. Chris. Where did you find such a receptive subject?” Professor Lee muses.

Chris simply chuckles to himself and pushes the tip into your ass, drawing another moan from you.

He slowly stretches you open, building up through his range of plugs, adding lubrication as needed. It feels agonisingly torturous, with his slow and careful ministrations. Your empty cunt clenches around nothing in frustration.

As he withdraws the fourth plug from your ass, the two men watch in awe as it settles back into its natural position.

“It’s a beautiful sight.” Sighs Professor Lee.

“It is.” Chris hums, sliding two fingers into your hole.

“Oh… god… fuck…” you cry as he finger fucks your ass. “Please… please… need to come.” You sob loudly.

“She’s close.” Professor Lee states. “Maybe we should skip the next two devices entirely?”

“Hmm. I feel you may be right.” Chris agrees, pulling his fingers from you and standing up.

“Do it. I need to see.” He says with a strained voice.

You hear Chris unzip his trousers and the squirting of more lube. He pushes his tip of his cock against your opening.

“Relax for me. That’s it… just like that. Let’s show Professor Lee how good you can take cock, yeah?”

The tip slides in with little resistance, but the stretch is much bigger than with the devices.

“Just a little bit at a time, you can take it. Look at you. You’re doing so well.” Chris encourages.

“She looks tight. Is she choking you? Is there much resistance?” Lee demands.

“Fuck. So tight.” He pants and stops still for a moment.

“Please…more… fill me.” You plead. You’re close to having your seventh orgasm of the night.

“She’s extremely aroused, Chris. Note the arousal leaking from her cunt.”

Chris applies more lube to his cock and around your rim. He might like testing your limits, but hurting you might cause you to be less receptive in the future, and that would set his experiments back.

Once he has you well lubricated, he withdraws his cock slightly and then presses himself in until he is three quarters of the way in. He pauses again to let you adjust, and then squeezes in the remainder of his length.

Professor Lee swears under his breath. You sob at how full you feel, your hand clinging to the thin sheet underneath you.

Chris starts to fuck you. Long, languid thrusts. Not too hard. But deep. You reach down to rub your sensitive clit. It’s still swollen from earlier, but you need to touch yourself. The combination of stimulating your clit while Chris fucks your ass has you crying with a desperation you’ve never felt before.

“Look at her taking it in the ass like that! I can’t wait to feel it around my cock.” Lee growls.

“Hear that, babygirl? You gonna let Professor Lee fuck your ass like this when he visits?”

“Y-yes… yes… want him him to have a turn.” You whimper.

“Good. Girl.” He pants and starts to fuck you harder. He grabs one of the unused vibrating plugs and pushes your fingers away so he can apply it to your clit.

You squeeze your eyes tight as you feel yourself about to burst.

“Look at you. Perfect little specimen. Come. Come for your master, little slut.” Professor Lee’s demanding words make you snap and you cry out as you come, squirting all over yourself.

Chris follows, trying his best not to throw his head back so Minho doesn’t miss a second, and coming deep inside your ass.

He stills, catching his breath.

“Female ejaculation. Interesting.” The professor purrs to himself.

Chris eventually pulls out of you and releases your legs, pulls his pants up, then picks up his phone to address the professor. “So Lee. What do you say? Want to work with me on the next phase?”

“Chris. let’s talk about scheduling me in for a visit.”

Taglist is open.

Next time, Professor Lee visits… then in another instalment we meet Dr Kim Seungmin.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @lurking-coconut sorry if you’ve already seen this… my tags broke but hopefully it’s fixed now.

#skz smut #Chan smut #lee know smut #bang chan x reader

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mommyownsmee · 8 days ago

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About how I learned to love Brats, Pillow Princess behaviour & the Art of Dominance

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot. Something in the way I think changed.

Every Submissive always talks about being a “good girl”—doing what makes the Dom/me happy, always being obedient and eager to learn. I used to think that is the way it always has to be. Used to. For over ten years as a Domme, I thrived on that concept: A “good girl” has to follow rules and submit without hesitation. For years, I thought that was the pinnacle of submission.

But the thing about power is that it evolves. True power doesn’t stay stagnant—it grows, adapts, and deepens with experience. Over time, I’ve come to realize that submission is more nuanced than a simple checklist of behaviors. It’s raw, alive, and deeply personal. Submission isn’t about perfection. It’s really all about connection.

For years, I believed brattiness in every way always needed to be corrected. To me, it once felt like resistance, a flaw, or a rebellion that threatened the structure of the dynamic. But now, I see it differently. Now, I see it as a form of self-expression. A way for my submissive to show her fire, her confidence, and her trust in me.

Yes, trust. Because it takes trust to push boundaries. It takes trust to tease, to play, and to challenge the person who holds the power. And when my submissive does that—when she smirks and says, “Mommy, I’m the most beautiful girl in the world, aren’t I? Others must have it really hard, not being as perfect as me,” or when she pouts and demands, “Mommy, I want it because I deserve it”—I don’t see rebellion anymore.

I see confidence. I see life. I see a woman who knows her worth and isn’t afraid to own it.

And it’s sexy. Damn sexy.

Bratty behavior doesn’t weaken the dynamic. It strengthens it. It adds layers, complexity, and depth. It turns submission into a dance—a playful, sensual exchange of power where no one is truly in control except for me. And yet, her fire ignites something primal in me. It keeps me sharp, keeps me present, and keeps our connection electric.

Being a Domme for over a decade has taught me that dominance isn’t just about control. It’s about responsibility in a other way than I thought it is. It’s about seeing my submissive for who she is—not just the quiet, obedient girl who kneels perfectly at my feet, but the playful, demanding princess who knows what she deserves and isn’t afraid to say it.

Why should I suppress that part of her? Why should I try to mold her into someone different and docile when her strength and confidence are what make her so captivating?

When she teases me, when she pushes the boundaries, it’s not defiance. It’s trust. She knows I’m strong enough to handle it, to match her energy, to guide her through it without breaking her spirit. That’s the real power of dominance—not in silencing her, but in allowing her to roar, knowing I’ll hold her steady when she’s ready to submit.

That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have to put in the effort sometimes. Of course she does. Submission is a two-way street. There are moments when she needs to kneel, to focus, to give herself fully to me. But those moments don’t need to be constant. Submission isn’t about perfection—it’s about authenticity.

Some nights, she doesn't want to exert any strength. She wants to be my Pillow Princess, indulgent and adored. And why shouldn’t she? Why should she always have to work for my approval when my love for her is unconditional?

I’m the Domme. It’s my responsibility to take care of her.

When she looks at me with that confident sparkle in her eyes and says, “Mommy, I deserve to be treated like the princess I am,” not a single muscle in my face flinches—even though my heart skips a beat every time.

“Oh, is that so, my darling?” I ask, leaning forward, my voice soft but commanding. My thumb brushes over her lower lip, and I lock my gaze on hers. “Then show me how much you deserve it.”

She melts, every time. It’s a game we play, a game of confidence and submission, of power and vulnerability. She knows I’ll always win, but she also knows I love the fire in her eyes when she dares to try.

Her brattiness doesn’t threaten my dominance. It enhances it. It reminds me of why I do this—why I’ve spent over a decade mastering the art of control, not to break someone, but to guide them. To make them feel safe, cherished, and understood.

When I pull her close, kiss her hair, and promise her that she’ll get everything she deserves, it’s not just words. It’s a vow. A vow to build her up, to nurture her, and to remind her every single day that she’s mine.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow, she’ll kneel. Not just because I demand it, but because she craves and wants it. Because submission is her gift to me, and my gift to her is the freedom to express it in all its forms—bratty, playful, vulnerable, and fierce.

That’s the beauty of our dynamic. It’s not rigid or predictable. It’s alive, pulsing with energy, passion, and trust. And as her Domme, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

For me, there’s nothing more intoxicating than that.

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mono-blogs-art · 4 months ago

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Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko - The Lesbian Office RomCom You Needed

Blatant flirting, hilarious misunderstandings, and lesbian shenanigans aplenty - this show is funny, over-dramatic, and most of all gay as hell. Here's my review! Spoiler-free version first, and a more detailed spoiler-y version under the cut. I hope you enjoy!

A quick summary: Overall: 9/10, you should absolutely watch this! Genre: RomCom, with some serious elements and a heartfelt exploration of sexuality Watch if you are looking for... : A silly and fun time, a happy ending, misunderstandings, and character development. Highly recommended to watch this with your partner(s) or your sapphic friends! Watch out for... : Although the tone of the show is mostly comedic, it contains discussion & depiction of homophobia at the workplace and past trauma relating to that Where to watch: Official TL on GagaOOLala, or Fansubs by @furritsubs (highly recommended!)

"Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko" (Ayaka-chan wa Hiroko-senpai ni Koishiteru) is a Jdrama adaption of a manga by the same title. The series premiered this year July 2024 and has wrapped up a short while ago, with a total runtime of 8 episodes of 24 minutes each.

The title of the show already says all; the plot is simple: Junior staff member Ayaka is head-over-heels for Hiroko, her senior at the company she works at. And she has decided to go on the offensive.

There are many obstacles in Ayaka's way: first of all, Hiroko is 13 years older than her (they are 23 and 36), and her superior at the workplace. Hiroko is beloved by both her superiors as well as her staff, so Ayaka's love for her is just one of many. And no matter how blatantly she ups her advances (and girl, she is BOLD), Hiroko is 100% convinced that all the flirting is just misplaced, straight-woman obliviousness.

The irony of it all is that Ayaka is absolutely barking up the right tree, because Hiroko is a lesbian, but has been firmly in the closet at work - something that she has no plans on changing. Her professional life and her personal must stay completely separate, at all cost. The only place she can truly be herself is the lesbian bar she's been a regular at for years.

^ Me when I'm a lesbian disaster doing insane mental gymnastics

However, "giving up" is not in Ayaka's vocabulary. As her seduction attempts keep escalating and being misunderstood, Hiroko's hard exterior begins to crumble bit by bit. Can Hiroko finally overcome her rigid ways, and let herself fall for someone?

Although the show is first and foremost a comedy, both Ayaka and Hiroko as characters are handled really well. They have their own problems, insecurities, reservations about the other, and both have a simple but great arc over the course of the series. Ayaka is discovering her sexuality, something she had never even considered before falling for Hiroko. What does being in love with a woman mean for her future? And Hiroko, who is already very confident in her sexuality, is confronted by her past trauma, and the fact that she's still not ready to come out despite the changing times. And while being undercover has saved her career in the past, it has also made her feel alone and isolated. She likes Ayaka back, but can't allow her true colors to show.

Something that I find very hard to achieve with comedy shows is the switch between funny and serious, and I think that Ayahiro manages this very well. Both of our main characters feel grounded enough in reality that when they get emotional, it feels relatable and sincere. For a silly show like this, striking a balance like that is crucial, and save for a few pacing issues in the later half of the show (that I honestly didn't mind at all), I think the show totally nails it. Ayahiro is not a realistic show, but it contains elements of reality that made me connect to it, despite all the insane shenanigans that go on. And because of that the show made me laugh and cry as much as it did, often in the same episode. It works, and Kudos to the writers (and actors!) for that.

Speaking of actors, one thing I must mention is that the show is very well made. The actors (especially Mori Kanna as Hiroko is the standout for me, she has a natural charisma and gay swagger) do a fantastic job, the leads' chemistry is great. The production overall has some real money behind it, with lots of changing sets that all look great and have been crafted with care. Ayaka's outfits are absolute KILLER, she is giving insane femme energy. The show also looks very pretty, the color graders turn that saturation up to 100 and it fits Ayaka's rose-tinted world well.

That's it for the spoiler-less part, I'll now get into specific characters and plot points with full spoilers up to the end of the series under the cut. If you don't want to get spoiled, I hope the review until now made you want to watch the show for yourself! I hope you enjoy!

First of all I need to disclaim that I have not read the original manga that she show is based on, so I can't compare the series to its original and how the plot is written there. I do intend to read it (I hope it gets localized to German so I can support the official release, but I might check out the English Official TL anyway before that) but for now, I will only judge the series as is.

Ayaka: Our protagonist is a femme fatale, in... another meaning of the word, I guess. She is a disaster, bad at pretty much everything she does except not giving up. Once she has set her mind to something, she will get it done. That leads her to often be inconsiderate and unable to see what others around her are feeling, which goes mostly for her best friend Risa, but also for Hiroko, whose feelings she also fails to consider even when pursuing her. Ayaka has to learn the hard way that her naivete is hurting others, and herself. She hasn't really thought her advances through, simply acting on instinct. But as the series goes on, she takes her feelings and her newly discovered sexuality seriously, and grows comfortable with calling herself a lesbian. She is also unashamedly horny, like, Oh My God, this girl is trying to get laid so bad. This is hilarious and refreshing to see, and although her seduction attempts are often played as comedic, it doesn't feel like she is being ridiculed for her sexuality by the show. Ayaka often crosses boundaries (physical and emotional) with Hiroko, both out of naivite and in deliberate attempts to seduce her. To me this was never truly infuriating, even though sometimes she really did go too far, but for me it always kept in tone with the comedy of the show. Even when Ayaka finally comes out in front of the entire office, she makes it clear that she doesn't want Hiroko to do the same if she's not ready.

Hiroko: Our deuteragonist is probably my favourite character in the show, and I think she's very relatable and well done. As an older lesbian, she's got plenty of experience, having even earned the title of "The Ace" in her lesbian friend circle for being a talented womanizer. But a traumatic experience of losing her last partner due to being found out at the workplace has changed her. She's afraid to get attached, she's unable to let people get close to her true self. So when Ayaka is fighting tooth and nail to get to her, Hiroko is caught in conflict between her feelings of attraction and her past trauma. She does everything in her power to dismiss Ayaka's advances to protect herself, and later when she learns that Ayaka is in fact not straight (duh), she still turns her down to protect Ayaka's (and her own) career. Hiroko is a bit of a conservative - something she's also called out for in her lesbian friend circle - she believes that coming out at work is impossible and irresponsible. And you know, I get it. Not only does she have personal bad experiences with exactly that, it's also not unreasonable to think it would be a bad idea to hook up with your junior of 13 years. Like, I get it girl. Hiroko is clearly attracted to Ayaka, not just physically but also emotionally, because Ayaka is everything Hiroko wants to be but can't. And that leads to Hiroko constantly underestimating Ayaka, even treating her like a child. She thinks Ayaka is not really thinking the gravity of her actions through, and she gets called out for that and has to overcome it. In the end, Hiroko ends up being a character that needs time, and needs to unlearn a whole bunch of shitty behaviour, something the show clearly also shows is being worked on and that Ayaka also respects (more on that later).

Risa: Easily the character I struggled with the most, Ayaka's best friend Risa is complicated. She's very observant but also shy, and secretly harbors a crush on Ayaka. Quietly struggling with her sexuality, she only decides to come out when she realises that Ayaka's feelings for Hiroko are serious. Oh, it's messy! She confesses to Ayaka, who in turn has to struggle with her feelings for someone else, but also not wanting to lose her closest confidant. And to her credit, Risa takes the rejection quite gracefully and continues to support Ayaka in her pursuit of Hiroko. However, Risa also outs Hiroko against her will to Ayaka, which... is just a shitty thing to do, even though she just wanted to help her friend. Good motive, still murder. After the conflict between Ayaka and Risa is resolved, Risa just kind of... is around, quietly worrying in her corner and kind of (in my opinion) overstepping her boundaries with Hiroko. I don't dislike Risa, but I thought her character was not done super well in parts, and although I understand the complicated situation she herself is in, the show doesn't really let her grow as much as the other characters. Anyway, good for her for bagging the hottest chick at the lesbian bar, though. Good for her!

The "break-up": The story's conflict comes to a peak when Hiroko finally realises there is only one way to shut this all down. She needs to fulfill Ayaka's desire, and then turn her down, once and for all. But Hiroko at this point still thinks Ayaka is immature and hasn't really thought her actions through. Ayaka sheepishly asks for a kiss, so Hiroko kisses her. "Now you've achieved everything you wanted." We're done, you can give up on me and this childish crush you have on me. And most importantly, I can let you go, too. Not realising that Ayaka wants much more. She wants a real relationship, she wants the kiss, sex, real emotions, she wants to see Hiroko's true self too. She wants a partnership.

The Finale: With the encouragement of her peers, Ayaka finds the courage to express her feelings to Hiroko one last time. And she finds just the right words to finally get through to her. Hiroko realises how much of an ass she's been all this time, how she ended up hurting the girl she loves and herself by denying herself happiness. This whole scene was so well done (Kudos to Kato Shiho as Ayaka, this is probably her best scene in the entire show), brother I cried so hard. And finally Hiroko can say what she should have a long time ago: "I'm sorry."

One year later: In the show's worst case of bad pacing, we immediately cut from their tearful reunion to "one year later", lol. I don't mind the sudden jump too much, but maybe a bit of a slower fade-out would have softened the blow, because I think a few people probably found this very jarring xD not too bad for me. I was actually positively surprised that we actually get to see the aftermath, see how their relationship has developed a year into it.

I've seen a few people complain about this "no-sex scene" (lol) and I just want to add my two cents. I actually really like how this scene played out, for two reasons. Reason 1 is that it's just very much in-character for Hiroko. We've seen her struggle back-and-forth with the intimacy Ayaka wanted from her for the past 7.5 episodes, and her own internalised homophobia and constant fear of "crossing the line". She's a traumatized person, and it makes total sense to me that even one year into the relationship, she's still struggling with sexual intimacy. Sure, a whole year is a long time not having sex with your partner (even though you both clearly wanted to from day 1) but like... it makes sense for Hiroko. She's still working through the past 10+ years of repression. I do understand how this scene can be interpreted as "the show is afraid to show them being horny and sexy together, they're cowards for making Hiroko so obsessed with Ayaka's "purity" etc" and like, yes, that is a totally valid interpretation, but IMO also a quite bad faith one.

"I'm happy to know you feel that way. Which is why, could you please wait a little more, just until I sort my feelings out?" "What?" "I want to cherish you, Ayaka." "Right." "I'm sorry for everything, Ayaka." "For everything?" "In the end, it seems like I still haven't came out yet. I understand that I'm making you endure something when you don't have to. But… I do want to be with you, and I want to keep my job. I'm really sorry for making you put up with my selfishness."

^ Like, that is the conversation that follows. It's not just about sex for Hiroko, that kind of intimacy holds a deeper meaning to her and she's just not ready for it yet, and trying to sincerely tell her partner that. And when Ayaka reaffirms her willingness to be patient in this scene and is respectful of Hiroko's choice, Hiroko realizes that she's being a stupid coward, and finally makes a decision...

... to come out in front of the whole office, who's been gossiping about their relationship the whole year anyway.

And that is the end of the show!

So really, Hiroko did manage to overcome her fears in the end, and it took her a whole year into a healthy relationship to do so. And I think that is honestly much more realistic than some people would like to believe. Is the smooch in front of the whole office silly and cheesy and over-dramatic? Of course, but that's the entire show so far. And if you think that kiss-and-dip is dumb then I can't help you, I think you just don't like fun.

Oh yeah, and my reason 2 why I thought that no-sex scene was done well is because it's just funny. Ayaka has been DTF since minute 1 of the show, and her still being unable to get it this far into it is just funny. I would have loved a little nod to them finally getting down at the very, very end, but eh, I can live with it like this. They've conquered the emotional hurdles, I'm certain they will cross that other bridge when they get there on their own time.

Conclusion: "Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko" is a great and incredibly funny lesbian show that touched me emotionally much more than I thought it would. It made me cry several times, the production and acting quality positively surprised me, and honestly deserves my Nr 2 spot of favourite Lesbian JDrama after Tsukutabe (which is a 10/10 show) for now. I really hope this type of show gets imitators, adapting relatively short stories into mini-series with great quality. I appreciate the more adult tone of this series, its shameless comedy while still being able to hit serious beats with real emotion. From what I've seen of the BTS, the actors and staff also handled the subject matter with respect and care and had a lot of fun making the show. I don't think a season 2 is needed, but I do hope that the series can inspire more similar works. I love Ayaka and Hiroko, and I'm so happy they got their happy ending, and by God, I hope they have the best sex ever in their beautiful lesbian future. God bless.

That's it from me, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this show as much as I did! Hopefully see you soon!

#ayaka is in love with hiroko #jdrama #review #mono-loguing #ayaka chan wa hiroko senpai ni koishiteru #ayahiro

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vickyvicarious · 4 months ago

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"He is young and strong; there are kisses for us all."

May 16

"He is so young and strong and of blood so pure that we need not defibrinate it."

September 8

Thinking about this echo, and the way Lucy and the suitors + Van Helsing provide a kind of opposing force to Jonathan and the vampire ladies + Dracula.

In both cases, we have the young, appealing innocent who is soon to be married and has entered a new phase of their life (Jonathan/Lucy). Both have an older foreign man become very interested in them and very fond of them in their own way (Dracula/Van Helsing). Both have three 'admirers' who want to 'love' them (vampire ladies/suitor squad).

Of course, noting this is nothing new. Plenty of people (and I myself) have pointed out these and other parallels between all these individuals. But I want to go a little farther with it today.

A vampire's 'love' is one of corruption and consumption. Jonathan was held captive in Dracula's castle, and forced against his will to adopt a largely nocturnal schedule*; he had to adapt in this and many other ways to his captor's way of life. The vampires had him in their control from the start, and he had to behave in certain ways to please Dracula lest he suffer consequences of his displeasure. Dracula was extremely possessive of Jonathan, right up until he wasn't going to be around anymore, and then he was happy to throw him aside for the others to devour. Despite this 'sharing', he and the vampire women are at odds and dismissive of one another (he spends most of his time shooing them away from Jonathan, they scoff at and mock him), and whatever love may have been there in the past is clearly long gone.

Human love is one of dedication and trust. The suitors (and later Van Helsing) all come to Lucy. Both initially, in visiting her to make their proposals at her house, and then later on coming to her home when she is ill; they come to her side when she is in need, and they drop what they're doing to adapt to her. When Lucy has to turn two suitors down, she feels awful about not being able to please them all, but each of them emphasizes that they don't hold it against her at all, and they will remain devoted to her friendship. None of them are possessive of her. (Admittedly, Van Helsing does somewhat frequently work to keep Lucy's loved ones apart from her, ushering Arthur away or drugging her to sleep when he's there; but he also invites them to come and help her with their transfusions.) Arthur, the one she has chosen at the exclusion of the other suitors, is notable for being especially welcoming to the others. It is on his behest that both Jack and Quincey arrive to help Lucy in the first place, and he is extremely grateful for and welcoming of their efforts in that vein (pardon the pun):

"Young miss is bad, very bad. She wants blood, and blood she must have or die. My friend John and I have consulted; and we are about to perform what we call transfusion of blood—to transfer from full veins of one to the empty veins which pine for him. John was to give his blood, as he is the more young and strong than me"—here Arthur took my hand and wrung it hard in silence—"but, now you are here, you are more good than us, old or young, who toil much in the world of thought. Our nerves are not so calm and our blood not so bright than yours!"

And this quote brings me to the next detail I find so interesting. In order to finally escape alive, Jonathan turns many of Dracula's tricks against him. Just to name a few, he does things such as: wall-climbing, sneaking around while Dracula is asleep, stealing Dracula's belongings. There are a lot of reversals between them in the last few days, both in Jonathan's explorations and his attack on Dracula. He's 'fighting fire with fire', so to speak, and it works to get him out of the castle. Later on, we see even more of this when he is hunting Dracula down near the end of the book.

He's far from the only person to do such a thing. Dracula himself is very deliberately doing this sort of thing throughout much of the book, from imitating Jonathan in the Castle to innovating ways to work around old vampiric limitations. And Mina is of course a whole example on her own of weaponizing the enemy's own tools against him. But so is this Van Helsing + suitor squad group in a really interesting way. Even Lucy herself, though due to circumstances, she's not the most intentional/active participant in doing so. Let's look back at that quote above again. Van Helsing says that Lucy "wants blood, and blood she must have" - in order to stop her from becoming a supernatural vampire, instead they willingly perform a sort of medical vampirisim. Here we once again see the contrast between modernity and the supernatural, and interestingly, how they overlap to cross purposes.

Dracula takes Lucy's blood away. Van Helsing (by proxy at first) gives it back. Dracula wants Lucy to become a vampire, and drink the blood of those around her. Van Helsing, in giving her transfusions, enables her to drink in their blood in order to prevent her from becoming a vampire. The three vampire women wanting to gang up on Jonathan and drain him of his strength. The three suitors join together to take turns sacrificing their own strength in order to supply Lucy with more when she's in need of it.

Dracula wants her to take, just as he and the vampire women do. In fact, almost everything he does to turn her involves depriving her of things: restful sleep, blood, eventually her mother. But in her friends, Lucy is surrounded by people who love her and give freely, and this saves her (at least temporarily). They all work together and love one another in a way deeply at odds with Dracula and other vampires' form of consumptive 'love'.

And so their vampiric actions of transferring blood between bodies are life-saving instead of life-taking. Jack and Van Helsing even remember a version which is all the more a mimic of vampiric body language and leans way into the vampire-as-disease metaphor, with the reference to the time Jack sucked "from [Van Helsing's] wound so swiftly the poison of the gangrene" - it's got the mouth on skin, the sucking, but it's taking away illness rather than infecting someone. It also fosters a long-standing dedication and love, which in turn lends itself to the saving of someone else. This too ties in to the way vampiric love isolates, while human love connects.

* Lucy, meanwhile, in fighting against her terrible dreams, often attempts to be awake at night and is unable to do so. A more nocturnal schedule would make her safer, since her sleeping state is where Dracula has the most influence over her.

#dracula daily spoilers #dracula daily #dracula meta #my meta #dracula parallels #lucy westenra #suitor squad #van helsing #count dracula #jonathan harker #vampire ladies

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nightlyrequiem · 3 months ago

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Love Bite

Perhaps in another life, one where she was still living, you two could've been something. If she had a heart that still beat maybe you wouldn't look at her like she was a monster.

Masterlist AO3

A/N- I would let Valeria feed from me.

Tags/Warnings: Vampire Valeria, Power Imbalance, Blood, Blood Drinking, WLW, Unrequited Pining, Slightly Sexual Themes

Two, tiny goldfish mindlessly swim around in their tank. Their orange scaled bodies turned vermillion by the low red lights in Valeria's office. The tank isn't small, but it's not large either. You feel bad for the fish. It must be maddening to only be allowed to swim within such a limited perimeter for the rest of your short, short life. You shiver and pull your blanket tighter around your shoulders. Not that it does much good. This coldness is inside of you is like a disease. Thin sheets of ice covering your delicate, mortal organs. Your heart works overtime to try and supply you with the proper amount of blood but it just can't keep up the demand.

You needed money. The only jobs available to someone of your skillset didn't pay enough. Not even the cheapest apartment was cheap enough. There was one job that paid very well. Ever since Vampirism started making it's rounds within the human population, those infected were afflicted with heightened strength, stamina, and cravings. The newly infected quickly adapted to their new lives and decided they were superior to the uninfected. The Dark Days, is what they're called. Thirty years before you were even conceived Vampires had waged war on Humans. Trapping and slaughtering them left and right. The Rebellion were a large group of humans who didn't roll over and die. They bit back, and hard enough to earn the begrudging respect of the Vampires.

Negations were hashed out and governments were formed. Parliments and parties of Humans and Afflicted (the technical term both medically and politically.) to protect the rights of both groups. Although the Vampires remain at the head of the seat, metaphorically speaking. While it is illegal for Vampires to go out and hunt and kill free standing people, they still reap the most benefits of the new barbaric system. Criminals who receive the death sentence are given to vampiric guards to satiate their hunger. The afflicted can get by on animal blood, now stored beside the milk in most grocery stores but human blood is just better. Thus, the Feeder Program was born. Humans who need more money - or just find the idea of being indentured to a stronger, crueler being erotic - can sign up to be paired with a Vampire. A living, breathing blood bag, essentially.

Only the wealthy can afford a Feeder. You suspect the Vampiric government has increased the prices on everything from rent to food to force more people into the program. The allusion of choice. You used to judge the people who participated. Why would you willingly throw yourself at the mercy of an unmerciful creature? You told yourself you'd work hard so you'd never resort to that. Unfortunately, that's not how the real-world works. You were speeding down the highway to homelessness and without a home you're as good as dead here. The government spends all its energy and money on the afflicted that there aren't even any homeless shelters. Leaving the homeless to battle with both the elements and blood thirsty creatures of the night.

The door opens, startling you awake. You hadn't even realised you were drifting off. Valeria strides in. She joins you on the couch, her harsh expression softening as she meets your gaze. Her eyes are a normal shade of brown, her ears aren't pointy, the only giveaway to her different biology are her fangs. Which aren't visible unless she's smiling or laughing. Valeria pulls you into her lap and turns you around to straddle her. Having your back to the room makes your skin crawl. She nuzzles her face down your jaw, resting it in the crook of your neck. Valeria is one of the few vampires that will employ humans. Species based discrimination also isn't allowed but the Afflicted have found a way around that. Most of Valeria's grunts are human though. It should comfort you, but the disgusted looks they throw your way when they think you can't see just makes you feel like you're less than human.

Valeria breathes in your scent. You imagine she can hear the fragile beating of your heart. Smell the blood currently running through your veins.

"I'm hungry." She murmurs. You hate being fed from. That should be obvious but there are people out there who get off on it. There is a certain point during the feeding that does feel pleasant, but it has never turned you on.

"You fed yesterday." You reply quietly. She's been feeding from you more and more. From the recommended monthly to unhealthy weekly feedings.

"And I want to feed again." Valeria replies. Gently grabbing the side of your face to tilt your head, baring your throat to her predatory gaze. Valeria noses along your neck, searching for the best vein to pierce.

Your face scrunches with apprehension as you wait for that painful little pinch. Valeria sniffs along your cold skin before pausing. She takes another inhale before slowly sinking her teeth into you. You hiss at the pinch and wave of warmth that passes through you. You can feel the blood leaking from the puncture holes into her mouth and the sensation makes you feel ill. Or maybe it's losing so much blood that's making you feel ill. Valeria cradles you to her body while she feeds. Rubbing her hand across your back in an attempt to comfort you. You lean against her for support. Her hand wanders lower, fingers skimming over your clothed tailbone.

The red light is giving you a headache. You close your eyes, but the lack of visual stimuli just accentuates the pain. There's an uncomfortable heat inside of you. Pulsating in waves and slickening your skin in sweat. This doesn't seem to bother Valeria though, who greedily laps up your life force. The other side of your neck is littered in bruised bites. Overlapping and scarring after not being given any time to heal. The heat dies down and the blissful tingling feeling is beginning to take hold. Your body relaxes. Just as it starts to feel good Valeria unlatches from your neck, a bead of blood runs down your neck and chest.

Valeria smooths her long fingers over the stray hairs at the back of your neck in an affectionate gesture.

"Good girl." She murmurs. Not mockingly but as genuine praise. Valeria is aware of the stress put on your body from being fed on. Not that it stops her from doing it. The momentary high wears of and you're slammed by exhaustion. Every limb weighing twelve tons. You have no choice but to lay your head on her shoulder as your eyes droop. You don't see the smile gracing Valeria's usually stern features.

The feel of your body against hers is the highlight of her day. Your breasts pressed against hers, your soft breath in her hair while she feeds. You taste warm and tender and Valeria wonders if you're warm and tender anywhere else. She can feel you trembling slightly. Can picture that little furrow in your brow. The imagery will serve to fuel some late-night fantasies in the privacy of her bedroom. You're the star in every single one. Valeria can hazard a decent guess as to what you'd sound like moaning and breathless, but the lack of confirmation leaves her frustrated. The fact that you'd never give her a chance just leaves her sad.

She continues to stroke you gently like she would a pet. Her nails gently catching on your scalp.

"I wish you did this willingly." She says quietly. The words drag you from sleep.

"What?" You ask, voice slightly slurring.

"I wish you were here willingly, in my lap, in my life." Valeria clarifies. The light bleeds into her sclera, making her look every bit of the monster she is.

"...I am." You reply, confused. You made the conscious decision to sign up for the Feeders Program. You are a legal volunteer. Valeria silently considers your words.

"No, I mean without the money." She sighs. "I want you to want to be here."

Your eyes droop again. You're so tired and cold.

"I'm tired." You mutter. Ignoring her words. They make you a little angry. It feels entitled, to want you to be here, to want you to enjoy being fed off of.

"I know." Valeria says after a few seconds. Voice hardening slightly. She's feeling the rejection. She had attempted to be real with you. She let you catch a glimpse of her dead, shriveled heart and you stabbed a stake through it. Valeria carefully adjusts you so she can lay down with you. Despite your rejection she still seeks your companionship.

Perhaps in another life, one where she was still living, you two could've been something. If she had a heart that still beat maybe you wouldn't look at her like she was a monster. Valeria gets a little burst of satisfaction when you wriggle up against her. she can tell by your breathing and the slowing of your heart that you're asleep. Valeria never realised how fragile the human body was until she turned. You're like a little bird. Hollow bones and delicate limbs. If she's not careful she'd shatter your ribs, snap your neck. She wants to clip your wings to make you stay.

She buries her face into your hair. Inhaling lungfuls of you. For a fleeting second, she thinks she'd sacrifice immortality for you. Briefly considering offering you enough money to never need to come back again - to open your cage door - but she fears if she did, you'd never return to her. Valeria is a monster. Even before she turned, she was a monster. She will never do what's best for you. Feeding from you has weakened you and made you sick, but it has brought Valeria closer to you. She knows she should, but Valeria is selfish. If she has to slowly kill you to keep you then so be it. She presses a loving kiss to your cool temple and closes her eyes. Finding tranquility in the slow beating of your heart.

#valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #cod mw2

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frosted-hyacinth · 11 months ago

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You have a bad day

Feat. sae itoshi

Tags. fluff

cw. near-death experience (if there are any more, please let me know)

You practically collapsed on your chair after you finished the huge mountain load of work and documents. After how tiring and mentally draining your day was. You'd almost gotten hit by a car that screeched to a halt after seeing you in front of it, crossing the road. It was a green light so you proceeded to walk across the road, looking around to check if there were any cars around. After making sure that there were none, you crossed the road only to be met with headlights in your face and the loud noise of brakes. You were shocked, after all, you almost got killed on your way to work. You stood there stunned before seeing the flashing red numbers on the traffic light and ran towards the sidewalk. You were expecting to continue on your way to work peacefully, continuing on your day like you hadn't almost died but just before you could take a step forwards, the driver of the car decided that this incident was entirely your fault and logically, the only thing they could have done was to open their car window and start screaming at you.

They thought that it was because of your carelessness that they could almost have been sent to prison yet the driver was the one who almost ran a red light. So you just sped up and walked to your work building. As you finally arrived at the building, you set your stuff on your desk and sat down on your chair, opening your computer screen since you were preparing to pick up on the work you were doing yesterday. Before you could open the document, your co-worker tapped you on the shoulder. You didn’t notice but she had been silent walking behind you while you got your things prepared.

“The boss asked for you.” She said, a smile on her face.

“Thanks Mika.” You replied with a similar smile then took your laptop with you to walk towards a glass covered room. These types of rooms made you nervous, not only because every time you came into these types of rooms you were going to have serious conversations but also because the room itself felt scary. Sometimes it could be claustrophobic and feel like the perfect environment to have panic attacks but this time, you were seeing your boss. The one that helped you keep your job but also the one that could fire you at any moment. You couldn’t just break down in front of them, that could make you risk your job that you’d worked so hard on finding! You walked into the room with some non-existent confidence that was made last moment, taking a deep breath before your eyes were met with the very direct eye contact of your boss.

Her eyes were still on your but she gestured for you to take a seat on the chair in front of you, an order to which you easily complied to. The two of you sat in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds that felt like hours. If you had to sit there any longer in silence, you felt like you would suffocate. Thankfully, before you could die mentally, your boss spoke up.

"I have been... Watching your work that you hand in, and I've noticed some things about the pattern that you give me your work. You tend not to finish you work as fast as other employees and to try to make your adaptive skills better, I have decided to assign you an amount of work that you must finish today." She said while reaching under her desk and handing you a pile of papers and documents.

You nodded slowly then was motioned to get out of the room and resume your activities with the workload that your boss had just given you.

You walked as quickly as possible out of the room as an attempt to get more time to work done.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You sighed, clicking off your pen and shutting down your laptop. You were finally done. When you walked into the elevator, you heard a small ding sound coming from your phone so you turned it on.

Sae: When are you coming home

When you saw that text, you let out a small chuckle as you realised that you forgot to tell your boyfriend that you would be coming home a little bit later than usual due to the work that you had to quickly finish. You stepped out of the elevator once it had reached the floor you needed then you replied to the text that Sae had sent you with some explanations to why you were late but not much else other than that. You didn't send him the time that you'd get home since it was dark out. When you sent the message to him, it had the symbol that it was sent underneath the text and just as soon as that appeared, it was read by Sae.

Sae: Do you need a ride

You looked out of the building. It was snowing. So it was cold, slippery and dark outside... Not the best combination, not the safest either... You responded with a quick and straight forwards, yes.

Sae: I'll be there in five

And now you were set to wait five minutes before your ride arrived.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Sae's car arrived in front of the building, you saw so you walked out of the warm building towards the car. Just before you entered the car, a large gust of wind caught you off guard, making you shiver and stumble backwards before opening the car door and entering the car. You slid swiftly into the front seat of Sae's car, when you made contact with the seat's leather, a large and fluffy jacket was placed over your body, covering your head as well. You pushed the jacket off your head and smiled at Sae, buckling your seatbelt. When you smiled at him, he saw a glint of stress in your eyes but right now, it seemed like all you wanted to do was go home. He'd ask you about it later but for now he'd focus on driving.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You and Sae changed into a comfortable sweater, you having stolen a hoodie from his closet. When you finished changing, he quickly pulled you to the couch, on his lap, making sure that you were comfortable then he looked directly into your eyes.

"Did anything happen today?" He asked, tone dead serious. "..Yes'' He continued staring at you, initiating a silent request for you to tell him what happened. You were hesitant to tell him but continued anyway, listing everything that happened, from almost getting killed by a car on your way to work to getting overwhelmed with work. When you were done saying everything, you asked him if he could watch Howl's Moving Castle with you to unravel from the day, he silently agreed then proceeded to turn on the tv, playing the movie you mentioned. For half the movie, you watched with your head nuzzled into your boyfriend's chest until you dozed off.

He stayed in this position with you for a few hours, almost falling asleep in the process but he managed to somehow stay awake. He quietly crept out of your grasp, grabbing his phone and wallet from the table, getting ready to use any and all contacts he possibly could to try and fire your boss and make the life of the person who had almost killed you, a living hell. So don't be surprised if you wake up to find that your boss has been fired. It shouldn't be shocking if you have a boyfriend like Sae.

-I don't actually have a job so... This is probably inaccurate. I also don't know how this ended up this long but... Also, I don't have much on Sae's personality so he might also be a little out of character. 映

#sae itoshi #sae itoshi fluff #sae itoshi x reader fluff #sae itoshi x you #itoshi sae #itoshi sae fluff #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock fluff #blue lock x you #bllk #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk fluff #bllk imagines #⌕ 茶ʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵃʳᵈᵉⁿ

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goldenseresinretriever · 4 months ago

Text

False Confidence: Chapter 13

Pairing: Javy “Coyote” Machado x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: The Athletic named Javy Machado the fifth sluttiest player in the NHL last year. He’s a known playboy who leaves every game with a different girl. As far as he’s concerned he’s living the dream, playing his dream job with the dream lifestyle. Unfortunately his friends and bosses don’t agree. At 33, they think it’s time for him to settle down. You’re a kindergarten teacher at an esteemed private school. You don't expect much when you finally accept your colleague’s invitation to attend her husband’s hockey game but when you accidentally get separated in the post-game rush, you find yourself in a compromising situation with the last person you’d ever expected to meet. When his PR rep suggests a mutually beneficial agreement, your hands are tied. How long will you have to keep up the act? And how long will you be able to?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, angst, fluff, fake relationship, suggestive language, anxiety, school system inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: I’m back!!! Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for this update! It’s been a long time coming and I’m glad to be settled to the point where I can start writing again!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

Not many things in your life have been as hard as having to leave Seattle the morning after Valentine’s Day. You and Javy had stayed up all night, walking around the Seattle center after the Space Needle, and eventually heading back to his hotel room. Despite your initial nerves, the two of you had sat on his couch and simply talked until Josie knocked on the door to let you know it was time to go. You’d felt the physical heartache as you forced yourself to walk through his door and you know it must have been showing on your face because Javy simply grabbed his jacket and tagged along in the Uber to the airport, keeping an arm around you without another word. Despite that extra half hour together you still held him tight as the Uber lingered for Reuben and Javy at the deserted drop-off area.

While you’re extremely thankful to Josie for the Valentine’s Day surprise, it’s made the rest of your week unbearable, and you could barely do anything but watch the clock, waiting for Friday. Things have gotten even harder now that you know that Javy’s back in town. He’s just on the other side of town and you can barely hold yourself back. You still have a day of work and Javy’s probably exhausted from the road trip. You tell yourself that he’s at home, asleep, and you shouldn’t bother him, that you shouldn’t be so desperate, and yet you’re aching to text him and ask if he wants to grab dinner because you’re not sure you can wait until your plans tomorrow to see him.

You’ve resorted to turning your phone off and banishing it to the bottom of your deepest desk drawer and throwing yourself into your teaching to try and keep your mind off him. It was working, for the most part at least, but now that your students have been dropped off in the cafeteria for lunch and you’re faced with your empty classroom, your thoughts run wild in the space. Josie’s not even here to keep you company. She took the kids off-campus for lunch to meet up with Reuben. You have no idea how Josie’s done this for ten years, and you’re even more impressed with how adaptable the Fitch kids are. You’ve always known it must be hard, not having their dad around so much, but now that you’re right there alongside them in the trenches, you feel their pain acutely.

You drum your fingers on your desk as you debate releasing your phone from its prison if only just to distract yourself from the silence in the room contrasting with the loudness of your mind. Your fingers itch for the distraction, and you’re so in your own head that you almost miss the knock on your door. Head whipping up from where you were scrutinizing the wood grain of your desk, your heart leaps into your throat as you meet the pair of dark brown eyes peering through the window into your classroom. Your body moves before your brain, tripping over your own feet and your chair as you scramble towards the door as it swings open. Your legs give up their struggle with the chair and you go tumbling into Javy’s arms as he runs over to catch you and you let out a screech of surprise.

“Hi,” you breathe out on an exhale as you stare up at him where you’re crumpled awkwardly as he holds you up.

“Hi,” he says fondly as he smiles down at you and you bask in the warmth of his expression as he helps you find your footing.

“What are you doing here?” You can’t keep the wonder out of your voice as you’re tempted to reach out and touch his face to make sure he’s really here. He chuckles as he leans down and bumps your foreheads together.

“I missed you,” he says like it’s nothing but it sends your heart racing and you swear he can feel it pounding through your skin.

“I missed you too,” you feel your cheeks heat at the admission, at speaking the words that have been echoing in your head all week and you’re heart stops as his face brightens into a boyish smile at your words. You can’t stop yourself from kissing the smile off his face and he leans into your touch, reciprocating in kind. Kissing Javy feels like making up for lost time, it fills you up in a way that feels like bottling up sunshine, reenergizing you like you run on the solar energy that comes from simply being in his presence.

When you break apart, you can’t tear yourself far, hovering close to him and he seems to feel the same way until he pauses like something’s just occurred to him and he turns behind him and you follow him with your eyes as he scoops up a brown paper bag that’s fallen onto the floor and comes back over to you. “I brought lunch,” he explains and you’re glowing all over again as he leads you over to your desk and hands you the sandwiches he got from a place near his apartment. The food tastes spectacular but you’re pretty sure that has more to do with the company than the food itself.

Javy asks about your week and you ask him about his. You’ve had at least some idea of what he's been up to since you spent Thursday evening at the Fitch’s to watch the Colorado game together. He leans into you conspiratorially when you ask how Denver was and you try to ignore the way the proximity makes your heart skip. “I think Bradley almost proposed,” he whispers and your eyes widen in surprise. You don’t know Bradley as well as you know Zam, now that you’ve been welcomed into a group chat with the other girls since your art show, but you know from Zam that she and Bradley are particularly close.

“Didn’t they just get together a few months ago?!” You squawk indignantly and Javy laughs as he nods.

“They even broke up for a bit in December, but that’s Bradley.” Javy shrugs.

“Wait how do you know? Did he tell you?” You ask and Javy barks out a laugh.

“Bradley’s a locked vault, Meep, and only Zam has that key. But according to her, next time they go out for pizza in Denver, the team has to come because a certain someone has no self-control.” He shrugs nonchalantly but you can see conspiratorial mirth dancing in his eyes and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you. The two of you sink into a comfortable silence as you eat, content just to be in each other’s presence after the time apart before Javy breaks it.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask,” you arch an eyebrow silently as you chew, “do you think you’d be able to come to our away game in Dallas next month? It’s on a Saturday so you’d be back in time for school on Monday, and I’d take care of the tickets, but it could be fun.”

“I’d have to look at the exact date, but I should be free, yeah.” You say, smiling shyly at the fact that he’s inviting you to an away game. Somehow it feels different than going to a home game. “Of course, I’d love to come,” your heart thuds at the ease that those four letters fall off your tongue. The relief on his face is apparent and you’re confused by how it contrasts the excitement dancing in his eyes. Your head cocks in suspicion but where you’d normally bury the feeling and wallow as your anxiety sows the seeds of distrust, you feel the urge to confront Javy. Maybe it’s because he’s always been painfully honest with you. No matter how well he seems to think he is at hiding his secrets and emotions, he wears his heart on his sleeve. Maybe you can learn to do the same. “There’s more, what aren’t you telling me?” His eyes widen in surprise and you feel your heart thunder in your ears at his confirmation that he’s hiding something. It makes your stomach turn sour even as your brain screams for you to hear him out before you pull away, retreating into the hermit-crab shell in your mind.

“I…” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not that I’m hiding it, I just…” he shakes his head. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you, especially when you’re still at work, and I didn’t want you thinking that I was making assumptions or moving things too fast.” He’s still walking around the truth, treading carefully as he tries to slow you down and grab your metaphorical hand before you can run for the hills.

“And?” You hate how small your voice sounds. You’re supposed to be getting better. Javy’s brought you out of your shelf over the past month along with all your new friends, but it seems old habits die hard. You see something you can’t read pass through his eyes at the tone of your voice.

“My mom wants to meet you,” he says with a resigned sigh, and your brow furrows in confusion. You’d expected a lot of things, but not this. “Well my sisters too, but my mom specifically. I told her about you, about us,” you watch his hand twitch like he’s holding back from reaching for yours. “And she said she wants to meet you. The whole family usually comes up to Dallas for our away games there and she asked me to bring you.” He pauses before adding, “If you want to obviously, she didn’t ask me to kidnap you or anything.” The last addition makes a small laugh bubble up in your throat and you let it slip out to watch Javy’s shoulders relax at the sound.

You nod after a pause. “Sure, Javy, I’d love to meet your family,” your heart squeezes gently as you watch the nerves holding Javy stiff release him from their grip and you wonder if that’s what you always look like to him. “Thanks for telling me,” you murmur, a mirror of what you tell your students when you successfully get them to open up. He nods, but you can tell something’s still bothering him so you reach over and take his hand in yours, rubbing reassuring circles on the back of his hand.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you, I mean it.” You give him a gentle smile but he’s not looking at you, instead, his eyes are focused on your joined hands. You reach your other hand to guide his chin up to look at you, trying not to get distracted by the feel of his smooth, warm skin under your fingertips.

“It’s okay, Javy. I mean it. I didn’t like you trying to keep it from me, but I understand why you did, and you apologized and I accept that apology. You’re okay. We’re okay.” You reassure him and you watch his deep brown eyes search yours before the uneasiness slowly creeps out of them. His fingers close around yours in his lap and he turns his head to brush his lips against your fingers still on his chin.

“Thank you,” His voice is soft like he’s still a little unsure, but then he shakes his head like he’s fighting to keep words inside his mouth. “Are we still on for tomorrow, Meep?” You can’t stop the way your face blossoms into a smile at the mention of tomorrow and you nod enthusiastically.

“Are you going to tell me what you have planned?” You ask, trying to hide how desperate you’re becoming. Javy’s promised that he has top-secret plans for your belated Valentine’s Day plans but he’s been annoyingly vague about them since he asked you to save the day for him.

“And ruin the surprise?” He raises a cocky eyebrow that makes you scowl. He brushes another kiss to your fingers. “Not a chance.” You pout at him and he looks like he’s fighting a grin. “So impatient,” he mocks and you roll your eyes, removing your hand from his chin with a scoff that lacks any real strength. Your attention is caught by the beginnings of movement outside the classroom and your heart aches subtly at the realization that he’ll have to leave in a moment and you’ll have to return to your work like he didn’t just blow through the door and lift your mood exponentially. Once again you feel the urge to ask him if he has dinner plans but your anxiety holds you back from possibly overstepping. He’s already taken time out of his precious day off to come and bring you lunch, you don’t want it to feel like you’re smothering him. Javy’s eyes dart to the window in your door, clocking the motion outside as well and you’re convinced that you see his shoulders slump slightly, but it’s likely your own delusion. “Guess I should get out of your hair,” he says, before coming back to look at you. Normally, you’d feel uncomfortable, being the subject of a person’s undivided attention but you don’t with Javy. His eyes rove over you like he’s recommitting your features to memory and you feel your cheeks heat as you take advantage of his distractedness to do the same. You can see the exhaustion from the past week lingering under his eyes and your heart aches slightly at the idea of how exhausted he must be as guilt twists your stomach. He should be home, asleep, or at the very least getting some rest.

“Get some rest, Javy,” you implore softly and he smiles gently in response.

“Don’t you worry about me, Meep, you just have a good day.” Your brows pinch together indignantly.

“I mean it, Javy.” Your voice is sharper, your teacher voice slipping through.

Javy chuckles. “Yes, Ms. Roadie,” he sing-songs, imitating your students and you roll your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Your brow relaxes and you nod.

“I’ll be there,” you assure him before adding, “That is as long as you tell me where we’re going.” You give him a pointed look.

He gives you a mysterious smile, “All good things to those who wait, Meep.” You’re about to protest again but the sounds outside your classroom rise in volume and you know your time together is almost up. Anxiety at the idea of Javy leaving knaws at your stomach and before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached out, arms wrapping around Javy in a tight hug. His body starts with surprise under you but he reciprocates before you can draw away and second-guess your decision. “I’m tired of waiting,” you know you sound petulant as you grumble the words into his chest, but his chuckle in your ear reassures you that he knows your words go deeper than your plans tomorrow and he feels the same.

“I’m tired of waiting, too, Meep.” He reassures you and you heave out a sigh, relishing the feeling of being in his arms for a moment longer.

***

Your knee bounces particularly hard and slams into the steering wheel as you drum your fingers on it, waiting for the light to turn green. You’ve spent the last week brainstorming ideas of what Javy’s grand plans for today would entail but instead, he surprised you by texting you last night to meet him at the arena, which seems odd since he has the day off, but you didn’t question it, knowing he probably has something in mind. He told you to dress warm but the anxiety gnawing at your gut has your brain convinced that the sleeves of your sweater are itchy. You scratch your arm for what seems like the hundredth time as you gaze at Hard Deck Arena looming ahead of you as the light finally turns green.

As expected, the private parking garage is almost empty but you spot Javy’s Land Rover and you park next to it. A quick peer inside the neighboring car confirms that Javy’s not there. You’ve been to the arena a few times now but you still can’t shake the feeling that you’re intruding as you step out of the car, wiping your sweaty palms off on your jeans before you make your way to the door and swiping the guest pass Zam hooked you up with a few weeks back.

The hallways are eerily quiet with the day off and the normally raucous atmosphere of the players and staff being absent. You pause, halfway down a dimly lit hallway, fishing your phone out of your pocket before you call Javy. You don’t hear a phone ring in your vicinity and you can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. Did he stand you up? Even worse, are the lights about to come on and reveal a hidden camera? Is this all a prank? A familiar sense of unease twists your stomach and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that you miss the click of the line picking up.

“Meep, are you here?” Javy’s voice in your ear makes you jump and you spin around like you’re expecting him to appear behind you.

“Javy?” You question the shadows around you. He chuckles in your ear.

“Hold on, Meep, I’m coming to get you. Hang tight.” His voice stops but the line doesn’t cut, a quiet reminder that you’re not alone except for the sounds of his muffled footsteps on the other side of the line as you do your best to ignore the dimly lit hallway around you as you await his arrival.

Contrary to his explicit instructions to you, Javy’s wearing a fitted t-shirt, arms bare and glowing under the dim LEDs as he jogs down the hallway towards you, grinning boyishly. He takes you by surprise when he doesn’t stop, barreling into you and sweeping you into his arms as you let out a squeal of surprise, arms instinctively reaching for his neck to hold on tight as your feet leave the ground. “Hi,” his voice is breathless with giddiness as he greets you, dark eyes boring into your own, mouth spread in a wide grin as he holds your body against his, the heat radiating off him a comfortable aura that you’re shamelessly drawn to.

“Hi,” you breathe back as the air comes back into your lungs and you gaze at him, lips slightly parted in surprise. Your mind goes back to yesterday and you nervously let the words on your tongue escape, heart fluttering at the vulnerable honestly. “I missed you.” His face is like the sun as he beams at you, surely a mirror of yours yesterday when he let the same admission slip. He rubs his nose against yours affectionately, the warmth rolling off his skin in waves meeting the shy heat of yours.

“I missed you too, Meep.” Your body relaxes instantly, reassured the moment he reciprocates. He puts you down then, but even once your feet are safe on the ground again, he keeps you caged in his arms, pressed tightly against him. He doesn’t seem keen on inviting space between your bodies and you’re hard-pressed to argue.

“So,” your curiosity bubbles to the surface from where it’s been percolating all week. “What are we doing here?” You ask, and you watch boyish mirth dance in Javy’s eyes as his lips quirk into a ghost of a smirk.

“So impatient,” he teases, leaning down to peck your cheek as your skin tightens beneath his lips as you scowl at him, no anger behind the twist of your lips. He chuckles as he pecks your pouted lips, effectively sending your brain into a tizzy. It’s still getting used to all this casual attention after years spent lacking it. “Alright then, my little roadrunner, let’s go,” your body instantly bemoans the loss of contact he pulls away but he makes up for it, sliding his hand unto yours and lacing your fingers together like he too can’t bear to not be touching.

He leads you down the dimly lit hallway with a familiarity you envy. Your feet almost stumble as you reach a slight incline and then you catch sight of light at the top. When you emerge into the arena, the contrast of the blindingly bright LEDs compared to the dimness your eyes have adjusted to makes you blink rapidly, struggling to adjust quickly to get your bearings. The cooler air confirms your suspicion until your eyes adjust to the blinding sight of the lights bouncing off the white of the ice rink. Javy waits patiently next to you as your eyes adjust and your frown of discomfort shifts into one of confusion. He clocks the difference and leads you through a clear door into the bench area. You’ve seen it through the glass before but you’ve never been in here. It seems laughably small considering that it’s meant to house several dozen men in bulky gear. You make your way to the boards that you’ve watched the boys swing over effortlessly, eyes widening as you see where it falls in comparison to your body, realizing exactly how much upper body strength it must take. You’re not sure you could do it, let alone piled under the extra pounds of hockey gear. You shake your head in disbelief before turning to where Javy’s watching you, seated on the bench.

“This is amazing,” he grins at your words.

“Just wait until we get out there, Meep.” He says, grin widening as your stomach drops and the puzzle pieces start falling into place.

“Out. There?” You squeak even as your brain has already descended into chaos as you glance from Javy’s smiling face to the white ice stretching out ahead of you. Anxiety rises up and claws up your throat as you realize exactly what Javy has planned. “Oh,” the word is a soft exhale and it must betray your fear because Javy reaches for your hands, pulling you closer and turning you to face him. “I can’t skate.” The words flood past your lips, splattering into the floor between you, laced with nerves and fear and you watch Javy’s eyes soften. He rubs circles into the flesh of your hands where they’ve started to tremble in his hold.

“I know, Meep,” he says and it doesn’t reassure you. “Nat told me, so I figured maybe I could teach you.” Your eyes widen in surprise as you slowly put things together. You look away from his gentle gaze back to the rink, the bright expanse daunting as it glows back at you. You swallow, fear sticking in your throat. Javy lets go of one of your hands, reaching to turn your chin back towards him, cupping your cheek, and sweeping his thumb across your trembling skin. “It’s okay,” he soothes gently. “I won’t let you fall.” The words are like hot water, thawing the ice of the nerves encasing your heart. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You believe him.

His smile turns rueful as he squeezes the hand still holding yours. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, though.” Your heart squeezes painfully. “We can get out of here, forget it ever happened. We’ll go get some dinner and then we can eat at my place.” He keeps up the gentle strokes of fingers against your skin. Your nerves are still present, deep in your stomach, licking painfully at your gut but your heart glows at Javy’s words. “Don't worry about it, either. This day is for you. If you’re not comfortable, it’s not worth it.” The aching of your heart is overwhelming, drowning out the twisting of your stomach and you shake your head.

“No, I want to.” Your voice doesn’t sound convincing so you clear your throat, squeezing his hand in yours. “I’ll be okay. I want to try at least.” He smiles, soft, as he scans your face, looking for any signs that your words aren’t genuine. When he’s convinced you aren’t doing this for him, he tugs your hand, gently, standing and switching places, carefully guiding you to sit on the bench as he stands in front of you.

“Sit tight,” he says and you nod as he steps over the bench to fuss with something behind you. While you wait, you nervously bring your gaze back to the ice rink. It looks cold and unforgiving. A thought pops into your mind as you wait for Javy.

“Javy, I don’t have skates,” the words die on your lips as he steps back in front of you, and your eyes fall on the box he’s holding in his hands. It’s clumsily wrapped in pink patterned paper with a bow awkwardly perched on top and he hands you it, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Sorry, it’s not the neatest job. I probably should have just gone with a bag, but I’d already committed to the paper, and I figured since it was just a box it couldn’t be that hard.” Your eyes soften as he blubbers in front of you and you take his hand in yours, squeezing gently.

“I love it.” You reassure him and you watch the nerves seep out of his body, shoulders slumping in relief. You let go of his hand so you can unwrap the box on your lap, being careful not to tear the paper too much. You know you’re going to want to keep it. Maybe you’ll try your hand at a mixed-media piece and you can find a way to incorporate it. Adding some of his work into yours. The box inside is nondescript and you open it, breath catching in surprise as you unfold the tissue paper inside to reveal its contents.

The blades of the skates sparkle under the bright lights and you reach a curious finger out to run along the surface. The skates are simple but beautiful. As you reach to pull one out to examine it better, the paper falls away and your heart clenches as a simple detail catches your eye. Along the ankle portion of the skate is a custom patch depicting the Looney Tunes Roadrunner. A surprised laugh bubbles up your throat as you run a revenant finger along the patch. When you lift the skate, you see a matching patch of Wile E. Coyote on the other skate. Your lips quirk into a smile as you look up at Javy where he’s watching you.

“They’re perfect,” you assure him and his smile widens. “I love them, thank you Javy,” you reach for him awkwardly, trying not to drop the box on your lap and he closes the gap so you can give him a hug. When he pulls away, he drops to one knee in front of you, easing the skate box off your lap and placing it on the floor by your feet he holds out a hand, and you flush as you offer him your leg, feeling silly as you watch him carefully remove your shoe and guides the skate onto your socked foot, lacing up the skate, glancing up to make sure he hasn’t pulled it too tight.

When he finishes, he takes a seat next to you, lacing his skates up with a practiced speed. Then he stands, and you gawk, looking down to see how he’s standing balanced on the blades, your nerves quickly resurfacing at the idea of having to do the same. He clocks your expression and gives you a gentle smile as he steps over to you, holding out his hands. “I told you, Meep. I won’t let you fall.” You swallow, hard, before placing your trembling fingers in his. Javy’s brow furrows and he bends down, rummaging through the box at your feet, before he produces a pair of gloves and guides them into your shaking hands. Then he laces your fingers together again. “Ready?” You nod and he squeezes your linked hands and pulls, gently helping you ease off the bench. You’re surprised when balancing isn’t as hard as you expected.

Javy carefully leads you across the rubber flooring to the small door in the boards, slipping through and holding it open with his hip and you stare at the ice. “Whenever you’re ready, take your time,” Javy says comfortingly, waiting patiently for you. You swallow before raising a trembling leg and placing your skate on the ice. You feel the blade slide through the ice and gasp. Javy’s hand tightens on yours and you look up from the ice to meet his eyes. “I’ve got you,” he reassures you and you squeeze his other hand and carefully step your other foot onto the ice. Your footing is much less sure now, and your legs tremble like a baby deer as your wide eyes go from the ice to Javy’s. “There you go, look at you, Meep. You’re doing it.” His pride is a little premature, you know that, but your chest still swells under his praise. “You ready to move?” You swallow, throat feeling dry, but you manage to nod anyway. He carefully pushes off, still holding tightly to your hand and he skates backward, effortlessly, slowly pulling you after him.

“Javy!” The surprise of how easily he moves and the strange feeling of gliding behind him forces the cry out of your mouth. Your weight feels unbalanced and your feet not having a proper grip on the ground is disorienting.

Javy slows to a stop, pulling you in so you’re close to him. Your hands grip his forearms tightly. “Easy, Meep, I’ve got you. Okay so to balance you’re going to want to bring your center of gravity lower, kind of reach for your knees. I’m going to let you go and-”

“NO!” You shout, fear gripping your heart at the idea of having to let go of Javy.

“Hey, hey,” Javy placates gently as your wild eyes find his. He’s calm and you force yourself to focus on him, to even your breathing. “Even if I let go, I’m right here, okay? I won’t let you fall. The moment you need me, I’ll be right here.” You swallow, hard. You’re scared which you know is ridiculous. The worst thing that can happen to you is that you fall and Javy’s reassured you that he’ll catch you if you do. You need to trust him. You do trust him. Despite the racing of your heart, you nod weakly.

“Okay,” you hate how small your voice sounds. “Okay, I can try.” Javy beams down at you.

“That’s my girl,” he praises and you feel your entire body go hot. His words echo in your ears with your heartbeat and you feel stronger. “Okay, I’m going to let go, okay? Just reach for your knees, you won’t fall.” Your heart thunders as Javy’s fingers slip from yours and you feel yourself start to wobble. “Reach for your knees,” Javy’s voice breaks through your panic and you feel your center of gravity shift as you alter your stance, the wobbling evening out. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“I did it!” You cry, grinning giddily up at Javy and he grins back.

“You did it!” He reassures you and then skates back a few feet, holding his hand out. “Now try to move. See if you can come over to me. Just remember, it’s not like walking. Think about how you used to skid around in your socks as a kid.” You decide against pointing out that you still do that now. “You’re going to move with your knees and push.” He skates over to you slowly and your brows furrow in concentration as you watch his motions, committing them to memory so you can try and replicate them. “Here,” he skates over to stand beside you, “just copy me, and if you start to slip, I’ll grab you.” You watch his leg and follow with your own. Your attention is glued to his legs and replicating his movements. “There you go, you’re doing it!” Javy’s cheers snap your attention from his legs and you realize how far across the rink you’ve moved. Your eyes widen and you forget to move your feet. Unfortunately, unlike on the floor, when you stop moving your feet, you don’t stop moving and you continue to glide forward. You squawk in surprise as you realize you have no idea how to stop.

“Javy! Javy, I don’t know how to stop!” You shout and Javy’s quick to skate in front of you.

“Okay, easy now,” Javy says as your panic rises. “You’re going to bring the tips of your skates in, like the point of an arrow, and keep your weight in the center.” You fight the doubts warring in your mind and try to trust Javy’s instructions, moving your feet slowly, and to your surprise, you slow to a stop right in front of Javy. You gape at your skates attached to feet that don’t feel like yours before looking at Javy who’s wearing a proud grin. “Attagirl! You did it!” He cheers, wrapping you in his arms and you sink into his before realizing that’s probably a bad idea as your combined weights are unbalanced. Javy shifts his weight almost instinctively, keeping the two of you from bowling over. “What did I say, I won’t let you fall, pretty girl.” You feel your cheeks heat as you relish being in his arms. “You did so well, Meep, I’m proud of you.” His pride warms you from head to toe and makes you feel confident. “You all skated out, or do you want to try some more?” He’s giving you an out and your new-found confidence has you shaking your head.

“I think I want to try some more,” you see pride and joy sparkle in his eyes and he helps you rearrange your weight so you can stand on your own again.

“Well then, let’s see what you’ve got, Roadrunner,” he grins at you. “You think this Coyote can catch you?” You know he could without breaking a sweat but you play along.

“We’ll just have to see,” you tease as you carefully start moving across the ice again and Javy follows right behind, sticking close.

***

An hour later, you’re exhausted and your legs are trembling from that rather than nerves as you and Javy sit side by side on the bench, unlacing your skates and trading them for your shoes. Strands of your hair stick to your forehead that’s somehow managed to get a little sweaty despite the chilly air.

“So, did you have fun?” Javy asks as he scoops up his skates, offering you his free hand to help you back to your feet. You nod, a giddy grin still on your face. You weren’t anywhere close to his level of skill but by the end, you were a lot more confident moving across the ice. And Javy had kept his promise, you hadn’t fallen once.

“Thanks for this, Javy, really. I loved it.” He pulls you into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“It was perfect,” he agrees before he pulls away so he can see your face as he asks, “What do you say to doing this again next weekend, maybe with some more company?” You cock your head, confused before he explains. “Next weekend is Family Day, where all the guys bring their girls and their families to the rink. We all just hang out and skate. There’s a potluck after and it’s just a team bonding event. I’ve been meaning to ask you to come but I knew you didn’t know how to skate and I didn’t want you to have to feel pressured to learn in front of a bunch of strangers. So I planned this, and I’d say you’re more than good enough to come if that’s something you want to do.”

Your heart pounds even as it aches at Javy’s concern for your comfort. You nod without a second thought. “I’d love to come, Javy.” You squeeze his hand in yours. “And thanks for looking out for me, I really appreciate it.” He smiles, the relief on his face is like watching the sun come out from behind the clouds and you smile back. “I can’t wait.” You assure him, snuggling against his side and he wraps you in his arms.

“Me neither,” he says and you can’t help but feel that despite the nerves and jitters, today has been perfect. You’re glad you didn’t let your nerves and anxiety ruin this perfect day, and you’re even more thankful to Javy for making you feel safe enough to have this much fun. You wouldn’t have been able to do it without him.

A/N: And with that, the Valentine’s Day festivities come to an end! But there’s plenty more to look forward to on the horizon! Which are you most excited for?

#san diego dogfighters au #san diego dogfighters #san diego dogfighters hockey au #false confidence // goldenseresinretriever #fc // goldenseresinretriever #javy coyote machado x you #javy machado x you #javy coyote machado x reader #javy machado x reader #javy coyote machado #javy machado #coyote x you #coyote x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick hockey au #tgm #top gun #no use of y/n

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nekropsii · 3 months ago

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I'm sorry to bother with my ask, but you are the most trustworthy mituna/ alpha trolls writer and I need to hear your thoughts.

How do you think mituna Pre-game life has been based on his classpect? Heirs usually have a certain privilege over the aspect they inherit, they dont have to work hard like a page to get it, however they either dont know what to do with it or the aspect get to take control of the heir. Do you think Tuna got to live a more comfortable life for beforus standards? How would the doom manifest in him? John became wind, equius became irrelevant, pehaps mituna great act of heroism was doom taking control of him instead of him learning how to take control of doom.

We actually can infer quite a bit about this. He was Cassandra. The logical conclusion is to keep adapting the Cassandra myth, and to assume his Doom is being Cassandra.

Mituna was an incredibly powerful psionic and basically an oracle. In the game, he knew whenever something bad was going to happen, and tried desperately to tell people. They never listened. I wouldn’t say his story follows 1:1 with that of Cassandra’s, where his Doom Vision was granted to him by an Apollo figure… But it’s pretty damn close, and I’d have to assume part of why they never listened was because he still got Apollo’s subsequent curse - to see the future, but never be believed. Considering this is a destruction of others’s belief, and the curse came as a punishment for Cassandra telling Apollo she doesn’t want to date or have sex with him… We already know who the Alpha Trolls’s Apollo figure is. It’s Cronus, Bard of Hope. Destroyer of Beliefs, and Known Sex Criminal. Due to the severity of the abuse he inflicts upon Mituna on screen - the violent bigotry and insults, the blatant disregard for his clear, desperate, repeated exclamations of his lack of consent, the molestation - we must also assume he fulfills the role of Ajax the Lesser as well.

Following this train of thought is the idea that people would actually readily listen to Mituna’s advice on Beforus. If he told someone to cut shit out, they’d listen to him. He likely didn’t have all that much mysticism surrounding him, considering he entered his SGRUB session at 13 years of age - it likely would’ve manifested in the same way Jade’s friends listen to her because she tends to be right about everything, inexplicably. They think it’s weird he can do that, but just shrug their shoulders, puzzle about it, or think he’s cooler for it.

Although he was an able-bodied male and carries an extremely useful ability, he was still a Goldblood, so his life was not privileged. He was pretty high on the Culling block, with him actually likely being specifically sought after due to his unique ability. Perhaps he evaded this through means of reclusion.

Getting culled might, theoretically, adopt you into the potential for wealth of a Highblood, but your autonomy is still getting stripped away from you quite violently. You are a trophy. You show wealth and status. You’re a novelty toy. You’re shown off like a cool knickknack, as if you’re not a person with a life and feelings. Everything is decided for you - what you wear, where you can go, what symptoms you’re allowed to have and express, what you eat, etc. - your control of your own life harshly limited to the whims of the Highblood. You are a foster child in middle class white suburbia, and your life is hell.

So, his life before the game was theoretically not as bad as it was in and after the game. He had yet to meet his combination of Apollo and Ajax the Lesser. He had yet to sacrifice himself for people who he called friends, yet who discarded him the second he stopped being what they wanted. He had yet to get locked with these people for eternity, still never listened to. But it still sucked. He’s an Heir of Doom, and a Lowblood on Beforus. It all still sucked.

#posting this immediately instills emotions of returnoftheking.png in you all. know this to be true.#homestuck #homestuck meta #homestuck analysis #alpha trolls #mituna captor #cronus ampora #beforus #beforan culling #cw abuse #cw assault #cw ableism #mituna.pdf #beforus.pdf #nekro.pdf #nekro.sms

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threepandas · 5 months ago

Text

Bad End: Out In The Cold

"What's this? A cold little mouse in my castle?"

Thick hair that wasn't mine spilled over my shoulder. As a familiar hand, warm and calloused, wrapped itself around my throat. I hadn't realized how cold the room had gotten, until her hand was there, skin warm against my skin. It had taken a while to get used to this.

I was grateful, in a way. For the the day she had done more then just scoff at my scarf. Telling me I would freeze. The way she had gotten worried. Pulled off her gloves, grumbling all the while, too fuss over me like some great mother bear. Hands warm but gentle, as the tucked themselves around my throat. Too better warm my blood, she had said.

It had been like a dam breaking.

And honestly? She WAS right. It was warm.

Now, whenever she so much as SUSPECTED I was cold? Her hand would sneak out to press against my pulse. Though, half the time, I suspected it was an excuse. She'd not had many chances for closeness in her life, I suspect. Calysta was the... ah, it was hard to translate, but... the CLOSEST translation? Was something like "Child of The Mountain Gods".

Or was it "Child of the Mountains AND the Gods"?

I was supposed to be writing a treatise on the subject. Gods knows no one ELSE would. Cowards. Bigots too. "Nothing but savages" my silk clad ASS. And they dare call themselves academics!? Ha! HA, I say! Both my professors and I would SPIT! (If it weren't WILDLY rude. I never COULD master that skill. I did try.)

Unfortunately, my professors, were too old to make the journey this far North. It hadn't stopped them from TRYING, when we had finally gotten permission. But... well. They barely made it too Wuntersgreen before the strain and cold became too much. They cried.

As the youngest? I was loaded down with their notes, questions, hopes and dreams, and sent on ahead. No one was impressed by me. The scrawny academic with her soft, soft hands. Never a day's fight in her. Didn't know how to do "anything". But? That had given their word to host me. So they did.

It's been AMAZING.

And I like to think I'm getting better!

Adapting. Learning how to do things and help around the castle. I even helped start a fire for the fireplace the other day! Before THAT? I learned how to set hunting traps... rather badly. I have yet to catch anything. But still! Progress, is it not?

Where was I? Ah, yes.

Calysta. Her rank is something between a Warlord and a King, as far as I can tell? It holds the respected sovereignty of a ruling monarch yet? Can be seized. Should she grow "weak". Is not NECESSARILY passed too one's children. They, presumably, have an ADVANTAGE... but? It goes too "the Chosen child of..." that word I'm still having some difficulty getting a good translation off.

And if I remember correctly, Calysta's brother's did NOT appreciate that. As they had been favored by her father. Showered with praise most of their lives. One of them ASSUMED to be the next leader.

They challenged her.

Did not back down.

Now? Now she has neither Father nor brothers. Not that it seems she had much of either to begin with. Frankly? I am GLAD she won. She is good for the North. Strong, steady, highly tactical. A wry wit. And a FEIRCE love for her people and culture. NO ONE will take it from her. Destroy these beautiful peoples.

I'm tugged back lightly, away from my desk to sit up properly against the back of my chair. The hand on my neck shifting softly, ever so slightly up, to cup the underside of my jaw. Tilting my head up so I can not see my work but must instead meet the eyes of my dear friend.

"Enough, little mouse." There is a fondness to the edge of her mouth, she is not one for great grins and wild expressions. It has taken me months to learn how to read her so well. "Your papers will still be there AFTER you warm up. Should be easier to right, don't you think, when you can actually feel your fingers again?"

I huff a laugh.

Honestly... where would I be with out her? Frozen to death, probably. I get entirely to fixated on my work. Food, drink, keeping the fire running. I notice none of it. Probably shrivel up and die. The fact she even takes the time to check on me? Dispite being as important as she is? Let NO ONE say Calysta does not CARE. She is a good person.

My legs feel numb and prickly, stiff, in that distinctly asleep and too cold sort of way, as I try to stand. Calysta has to wrap her arm around my waste and let me lean against her. She feels almost too hot against me. Another sure sign I have, indeed, allowed myself to get too cold. Oh dear.

With an exasperated snort, once it becomes clear my legs will probably not be recovering fast enough for her liking, Calysta decides she will speed things along. My legs are swept out from under me effortlessly. I don't even squeek anymore, this has happened so often. But I USED too.

It is how I became "mouse".

Now I just allow Calysta her way. She'll put me down when she wants to put me down. And honestly? It's kinda fun to be carried like a child. I feel tall. Weightless and somewhat decadent, it makes my heart beat a faster. And on somedays? All I want to do is go boneless. Allow myself to be HELD. Not that I'll ever tell. So Shhhhh, a secret to our graves, okay? It would make things awkward for her.

She strolls down the hall with me, too her office. No one so much as blinking an eye. We've become so common in our shenanigans, I imagine, it's become mundane. And... ah~ Calysta was RIGHT. I WAS cold. The fireplace in her office is full with logs burning away merrily. The windows we passed in the hall showed snow. It seems the storm's finally hit..

Instead of putting me down, Calysta heads for the couch. Turning and with a huff, flopping down, making both of us bounce a bit. Leaning back with me less in her arms now, so much as in her lap. The room is quiet. Hushed almost. The crackle of fire, the distant howl of wind, far away chatter of life, elsewhere in the castle.

Calysta has leaned back against the back of her office's couch. Head rested against the fur blanket draped against the back of it. The fur mixes with her riotous man of hair to create almost a halo, lit in golds by the fire's light. Her eyes are closed as she takes her moment. The fire light makes her face softer.

But never soft.

No force in all the world could make Calysta anything but the Queen she is. Dangerous and powerful. First into battle and last to leave. She is breath taking in the way all deadly things are, I think. Like blades and poison held up to the light. Predators and fires that burn.

"You're staring, little mouse." She says, voice nearly a whisper in the softness of the room. It is a rumble like mountains and the sweet call of dangerous things. She's always had such a commanding voice. I envy it. "Is my face so entrancing?"

She's smirking. Teasing me. I laugh and rest my head against her shoulder. Let myself drift as the chill in my bones fades away. The arm loosely around my waist to keep me from falling off, has taken to lightly stroking my back. Almost absent-mindedly. Occasionally, fingers playing with the ends of my hair.

A servant has come-by. Removed our shoes for us. Brought Calysta missives and responses. General updates. She shifts us. Tucking me against her as she lays down, tucking me between her body and the couch. Fuzzy blanket over me, arm wrapped around me. I... I feel boneless.

Safe.

Everything warm and quiet and far away.

Trusting, I doze off. Cuddling close and utterly content.

Calysta presses a kiss to the crown of my sleeping head. Let's her hand roam, just a bit, simply to feel the perfect way her little mouse fits right up against her. She was MADE for her. Born to be here. Still... she has to be... be GENTLE. Soft.

It's hard. She hasn't had much practice in that.

But good things are worth the struggle for them. True love is WORTH the time, the effort, to learn how the South romance. Figuring out how to woo her lil mouse as she deserves. Making sure she never leaves.

Speaking off...

She diges out the ridiculous fancy paper envelope at the bottom of the stack. Hidden, as per her instructions, so her little Mouse wouldn't see it. Another one, it seems, from that damn "House" of hers. Southern Clans were pretty damn presumptuous, weren't they? Had some fucking gall.

What did THIS one say?

Let's she... "come back at once" blah blah blah "how dare you ignore all our letters" blah blah "you WILL honor the engagement we've found for you, or ELSE" oh? Threats now, huh? Ah~? "Keep ignoring our letters and you'll be cast from House-" well, well~!

That's convenient.

One flick of the wrist, and the letter is in the fireplace. Burning away. Just like all before it. Oops. How difficult it is, to get news from the South. Her little mouse really SHOULD just forget about them. THIS is her home now. THEY are her people.

Her girl doesn't need anyone else.

"Don't worry, little love. I won't leave you out in the cold. You're gonna stay with me. Forever. I Promise."

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zutarasbuff · 10 months ago

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I watched the Netflix adaptation of ATLA today and being a hardcore fan of the OG series who knows every nook and cranny of the ATLA world, here’s my unbiased and truly honest review (It contains both the negatives and positives of the series, so dear reader please enter to read at your own risk).

Firstly, let’s talk about the wonderful additions to the already magical world of ATLA.

1. The depth of the genocide

Well, I always wanted to know how the air nomads were suddenly wiped out and how it would have been for them? Why didn’t they resist? I got my answers in the first episode where we explore how the unhinged power of the comet was “actually” used to create a genocide on a massive level. Before that, I had only heard about it in the OG series. Those few scenes were so powerful that they had left me sobbing uncontrollably and Gyatso’s concern regarding Aang had me bawling.

2. Suki’s Characterization

In the OG series, we do find our Suki the fiercest warrior, but here in the live action, she’s an absolute goddess. She is perfect in every sense. She understands the responsibilities she has being a non-bender and is fearless. Her character is what I believe to be was the strongest one of all.

3. Graphics & Music

We never talk about a film by M.Night (that didn’t happen), but this one is really a visual treat for you can readily set yourself up for some mind-blowing bending scenes, plus the fight scenes are quite impressive. It seems that the VFX team had really done their homework this time. Plus, both Momo and Appa are so freaking cute. I loved the fluffy Appa. Good work over there. The revival of the OG theme is also a highlight plus the sun warriors’ chanting in the end is given a new but intriguing twist. The background music especially in scenes where Aang unravels his Avatar powers is mystical in every aspect.

4. Life in motion

I don’t know about others, but I have always been a sucker for animation as well as live-action where characters are operating even in the direst of the circumstances. Life is there and even after they know what happened a hundred years ago, they are still trying to believe and regain their past confidence. This is beautifully portrayed and I was very much impressed by the way people are continuing their day-to-day activities even in the middle of a crisis.

Overall, the series serves the purpose of an adaptation carrying its unique colors (at least better than the previous live-action disaster that didn’t happen).

Now let’s move to the bad side, and when I say it’s honestly what I felt, you need to take my word on it being a hardcore Atla fan.

1. Weak writing & lots of exposition

ATLA remains at a 9.2 IMDB rating even after years because of its writing, strong plot, and very few plot holes. This time, the writers are the real amateur ones. Despite adding more to the already flourishing universe of ATLA, sadly, they killed the quest of the viewer to find answers. There is too much exposition. It seems that every character just wants to see the end of the war and keeps on revealing things after things. Plus, some of the OG moments that were the soul of the series are not even included. The way Aang finds Momo and then decides to keep it with him as a last remnant of their bygone air nomad civilization is nowhere to be found. In fact, the replacement of Roku with Kyoshi is the biggest disappointment. I love Kyoshi like no one else but that was unnecessary as per the cycle.

2. Bland acting

Even the worst writing shots can be digested only if the acting appears real good. Sadly, this is another issue that I found with the NETFLIXED version. No doubt the characters must have done a lot of hard work for this, yet, they lack the expressive power. Gordon as Aang is super cute but the goofiness is not even there. Katara seems a nerd who doesn’t like to talk much even when it’s necessary and Sokka’s jokes are forced. Meanwhile, Dallas seems to save the day at one point, but again his over-the-top angry young man attitude ruins it for me. Maybe the actors will learn from the criticism in the upcoming season (if Netflix plans to go with it).

3. Major changes

Yes, it’s okay to change the narrative while you are working on an adaptation, but targeting the loyal viewers who are OG fans of ATLA means that you have to be very careful when you are trying to implement your changes in scenes that are the real soul of the OG. You can’t change the Omashu myth as if it’s nothing when we actually see even the cute animated version of the folklore. You cannot portray Roku more as a perpetrator of the genocide and Bumi as the evil king when in truth he’s the mad king who’s known for his genius ways of teaching. I hated that. Plus, reducing Zhao’s authority and taking Uncle Iroh’s sarcastic attitude is just meh. Mai again doesn’t even seem perfect as a cast. Jet is good as far as the aesthetics are concerned but Jet being in Omashu doesn’t even sit right with me. The amalgamation of multiple storylines creates so much confusion and this persists till the end.

4. Bending at convenience

We all know how Katara’s bending progressed throughout the first season and it’s little effort each day. However, in series, one day she’s unable to bend even a droplet of water and the next day she is capable of producing ice crystals. This was unacceptable for me because I was anticipating her learning strategies. Besides, Aang doesn’t learn much water bending throughout this season and in the end, it’s him being the savior in Avatar state. Thoughtless bending sucks despite the great VFX and that’s one thing at which you can’t convince me otherwise.

5. Forced friendships

We all know how it took some time for Sokka to embrace Aang as a chum. However, here Sokka keeps on calling him “the kid” and remains mostly alienated from Aang. Talking to Katara, then she also seems more interested in helping Avatar fulfill his goal than being with a friend. I hated the scene where Aang comes into the Avatar state and instead of hugging him just like in the OG series, Katara runs along Sokka and keeps on calling his name. How is that going to build any organic friendship? I think the first mistake began right from the very moment when Aang was taken back to Wolf Cove on a boat in his unconscious state. Upon opening his eyes, the first person he finds near him is neither Katara nor Sokka but a tribesman who’s playing guessing games. Writers were really high when they wrote that.

6. Lack of the four nations’ biodiversity

Maybe in live action, it’s difficult to create all the marvels of the four nations when we talk about their natural biodiversity. In the OG series, it is indicated by Aang that even after 112 years, he has still not forgotten the animals that define different regions in the four kingdoms and that’s exactly why he wants to finish those “important tasks” alongside saving the world. His important tasks included keeping a check on the natural biodiversity of the lands and exploring whether the Hundred Years’ War had not damaged the majestic animals. Actually, his first dialogue right after regaining consciousness is to go for an otter penguin’s ride with Katara. When I thought about that I felt that somewhere in Aang’s mind he was always connected to nature and that’s why he wanted to regain that connection by being an avatar. Sadly we never see much of the biodiversity but I hoped that maybe they will.

Also, how come Aang had that silent whistle for one hundred years when in the series he only discovers that accidentally? I missed the OG Yip Yip for our Appa. There are lots and lots of problems with the Netflix version, and no I am not being a nitpicker. I appreciate how the current creators credited the original ones, but now I know why Bryan and Michael bade farewell to this project. On a scale of 10, it’s a 4 for me or 4.5 if I am being too generous.

If I am asked to review the live action in a single line, I would only say this:

“The Netflixed ATLA makes you go back to the OG series and you end up watching the animation to give your mind a much-needed respite from a carefully crafted artistic disaster aimed at the sensationalized generation.”

#atla #avatar the last airbender #atla live action #atla netflix #avatar aang #atla katara #avatar zuko #avatar roku #avatar the legend of aang #iroh & zuko #zutara atla #kataang #avatar canon #avatar review

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tobiasdrake · 4 days ago

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I still have live-action Dragon Ball movie on the brain.

Second movie covers Goku and Krillin's training under the Muten-Roshi and the 21st Tenkaichi Budokai. Since Bulma's been set up as our anti-Everyman viewpoint figure, she needs to be adapted into the training arc.

That's not hard to do. In the original manga, Bulma tried to visit them but couldn't find where they'd gone off to. In the movie, she succeeds. Easy enough.

Like. We start our movie on Bulma showing up to Kame House like....

Lunch: Oh, you must be Bulma! I've heard so much about you. Bulma: The hell are you? HEY GUYS, THERE'S A STRANGE WOMAN IN YOUR HOUSE. I THINK YOU'RE BEING ROBBED. Roshi: (coming out of the back) Not currently, no.

And then Bulma gets filled in on the Lunch and Krillin backstory through flashback. Lunch still flips personas when she sneezes. At least one time, I want a special effects shot of her hair color-shifting on-camera. The new color starting from the back of her head and spreading forward as if propelled by the force of her sneeze.

Yamcha isn't with her because he abruptly left West City to go train for the tournament, and Bulma's pissy about it.

Fortunately, the movie should have a lot of screentime to work with. Not only are the characters already established from the first movie, but it doesn't need to hype up a villain. Goku and the Muten-Roshi are the finale it's building to.

So there's time to explore the film's central theme of what the true measure of a martial artist is. What does it mean to be a martial artist? What does it mean to Roshi, to Krillin, to Yamcha and Giran and Namu? What does martial arts mean to each of these people?

And what should it mean to Goku?

(Roshi has to blow up the moon. Like Bulma shooting Goku in the face, I refuse to budge on this.)

#dragon ball #hypothetical live action dragon ball movie

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lil-ms-darkness · 3 months ago

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Crumbs - Bigby Wolf x Fem! Goldilocks! Reader [Part Seven]

The sunset behind her illuminates the apartment as Bigby examines her closely. The way her hair is tightly pulled back rather than gently gathered, the strain in her jaw, and the darkness under her eyes. She blinks in confusion as she looks at him,

“Sheriff? What’re you doing here?”

“It’s been a couple weeks and nobody has seen you come out of your apartment, so I figured I’d bring food.”

“I- uh, thank you.” she steps aside to let him in, more confused by his sudden visit than anything. He steps inside and she closes the door, following him through the small entrance hallway and into the rest of the apartment.

He glances onto the kitchen island, where he spots the accumulation of her baking. He gets a whiff of fresh baked pecans and dull baked-in brandy. His eyes follow his nose, spotting a pie resting on a mesh-metal dual platform he assumed was for cooling multiple pies at once. He tears his gaze away and heads to the love seat, setting the bag of food on the pony wall. She watches him, not moving but he can tell by her body language that she’s getting antsy.

“I didn’t know what you like, so I just grabbed you orange chicken, rice and some veggies.”

She nods and, after a moment of hesitation, makes her way over to him, sitting down on the love seat as he skillfully fishes out the white temple paper boxes full of inauthentic Chinese food. In his time in Europe, he’d found Chinese food to be his least favorite, not by any fault of their own. They certainly enjoyed their delicacies, and prided themselves on their cuisine, as it is a part of their culture. The multitude of spices were delicious to other Fables, but to his wolfish tastes, he preferred pork with the slightest bit of chicken hearts, if any at all, too many spices were overwhelming. Of course, ever since Snow cut him with that knife, he’s been able to adapt his tastes to blend in mostly, and get him by in the Mundie world. Even so, this was most definitely not authentic Chinese food, it’s as processed as the McDonalds around the corner.

He hands the blonde woman two of the containers and a fork, then grabs his own. He doesn’t miss the excessive bounce of her leg, or the way she repeatedly switches which leg is crossed- left over right, right over left, left over right again.

“What have you been working on?” he asks, pretending to be interested in how the crinkled piece of wanna-be steak clings to his plastic fork.

“Orders.” she says without looking up, and his eyes look her over. She’s spotless for having been hard at work, but he can smell the salty must of sweat and the way the buttercup curls stick slightly to her temples confirms it.

“I thought most of your orders were completed.” he probes

“I wanted to get a headstart,” he doesn’t miss the subtle edge to her voice. “Please stop beating around the bush, why are you here?”

“I was checking in on you, like I said, nobody has seen you around for a while.”

“So the Fabletown Sheriff is also responsible for performing wellness checks?”

“I have a lot of responsibilities, but yes, making sure Fables don’t kill each other is one of them.”

He watches her mouth open, tremble for a moment, then close tightly. She wanted to say something, but it seems she thought better of it. Looking from her face back to his own dinner, he caught a look at her own container, she hasn’t eaten any of it. Before he can ask if she has eaten already, the oven beeps. She stands, setting the takeout on top of the pony wall, again and makes her way to the oven. She slips on her mitts, reaching inside and pulls out the fresh pie. Even from where he is, he can smell warm caramelized sugar, molten blackberries and hear the crackle of the cooling crust on top. She slips the fresh pie underneath the first pie, eyes lingering on the pie on top.

“Whose order is that? Seems like you aren’t happy with it.”

For a moment, he doesn’t think she’ll answer and only intends on remaining transfixed on the pie, but she surprises him with a response.

“It was Woody’s favorite. Brandy Pecan Pie.” he watches her lips tremble again, eyes fluttering slightly with tears threatening to spill over, but she swallows and takes a breath, looking over at him. “Did you want a piece?”

“I’m not much of a sweets person,”

“Please? I know you and Woody didn’t really like each other, but I don’t want to eat this pie alone. I’ve managed to keep the tears away for a while, but if I’m alone eating this…” she pauses, and snorts quickly, looking down and tucking her chin against her chest, as if laughing at the absurdity of what she was asking of him. “Nevermind, I shouldn’t have made it.” she reaches down, now cooled enough to touch the pie tin, she grabs it with both hands and walks to the trash can.

He has only a second of shock before he’s on his feet. He clears the small distance, grabbing her hands just in time to force them not to let go. She lets out a startled noise and looks up, eyes wide.

“Don’t throw it away just because it’s a painful memory.” he holds her gaze and can see the pain behind them. He tightens his hold on her hands, momentarily before she lifts it, and only then does he let her hands go to watch her set it back on the island. She leans against the counter, gripping the edge until her nails dig into the wood underside, closing her eyes tightly as she tries not to cry, again. He watches her, unsure of what to do for a moment. She isn’t afraid of him, but does he dare risk a hand on her shoulder? The worst that could happen is she recoils, which he’s used to. Somehow, he has a feeling that her recoiling from him, be it from disgust or fear, would ache like a healing bruise.

He reaches out, tentatively, and rests a hand on her shoulder, anyway. Under his hand, he feels her muscles stiffen, and she looks up at him. Her eyes are glassy, but she tries to prevent them from falling by blinking them away. The hurt, anger and frustration in her eyes raises memories of white fur splattered in red, dripping and muzzles snapping flesh, tearing. Growling, low and menacing, clacking teeth, and the feeling of utter helplessness and the birth of his ambition to become who he had succeeded in becoming.

Without thinking, he moves his hand from her shoulder to the side of her head. Her hair is soft, and the free strands brush his calloused skin gently, reminding him of a faceful of his mothers fur. His hand slides around to cup the back of her head, pulling her forward. She follows, still surprised by his gentleness, until her face touches his chest. She inhales deeply against his white dress shirt, and he can feel her hesitance to touch him back. But when his other arm loops around her shoulders, she sniffles and wraps her arms around his middle, clutching the back of his shirt as she sobs into him. She clings tightly onto him for long moments, soaking through his white shirt with her tears.

He holds her firmly, but doesn’t move otherwise as she weeps. Closing his eyes, he thinks about his mother and all that she deserved, the kindness and love she’d shown him. He remembers what she smelled like after the winter snow, the warmth and weight of her paw, the-

“Sher-iff?” he looks down as she pulls from his thoughts. He hums questioningly as she looks up at him, eyes puffy and pink, nose red and cheeks wet. He hadn't even noticed her crying slow, or feel the hiccups that now wrack her throat and chest. She lifts her hand and gently touches his hair, just as gentle as he had been. “I think I'm hungry.”

He blinks and rolls his eyes, stepping back slow enough for her to let her arms release and return to her sides. He leads her back to the loveseat and grabs her food, offering it out to her. She takes it and sits on the couch, turning to lift her legs up and tuck them into the gap between the cushion and arm of the loveseat. He sits beside her and resumes eating as well, partway through her container of takeout, she gently sets the food down, again, rubbing her eyes.

“Tired?”

“I couldn’t sleep last night, every time I closed my eyes all I could see was…”

“I can stay here while you take a nap, if I can use your phone.” she looks up at him, examining his eyes as if she could read him as easily as he can read her.

“You won’t leave?”

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“And you won’t let anyone get me?”

The sound of hungry maws gnawing on bone drifts through his ears, “No, I won’t.”

She’s quiet, considering it for another moment before she stands up, grabbing her food. She puts it away in the fridge, grabbing her cell phone from its place on the counter against the fridge. Unplugging it from the charger, she brings it back to him and holds it out. He reaches out to take it, and she reaches further forward so that the back of her hand rests against his palm momentarily before pulling back and leaving the phone in his hand. He knows she did it on purpose, but she doesn’t look at him. Instead, making her way over to her bed and sitting down, pulling the hair tie from her hair and replacing it with a different, thicker one? He doesn’t understand, but as she lays down and pulls the blanket over her body, she rolls over to face him, offering a soft smile as she grabs one of the stuffed animals- a wolf. Now that he’s looking closer, the commonplace stuffed bear is nowhere to be seen. She doesn’t have a single stuffed bear, but he isn’t surprised. He doesn’t move, listening to her breathing slow more and more until her heart rate reaches rest and her breathing is slow and rhythmic.

Bigby opens up her phone, not surprised by the fact that there’s no passcode, as she wasn’t even worried about her door being unlocked when they first met. The wallpaper was a picture of Woody and herself years ago, based on the shorter length of hair that hovers just above her shoulders. He thumbs the button of the receiver, and begins to scroll through her contacts, finding a contact for B. Rose, Bo, then Beast followed immediately by Beauty, then Boy Blue which caught him by surprise.

Why would she need Boy Blue’s number, unless she was doing an order for him? He had never commented on expecting an order from her.

He scrolls on, deciding on the irrelevance of his contact being saved. Underneath his contact was the Business Office number.

Cindy, Dr. Swineheart, Jack H., Ozma- Ozma? How did she manage to get a phone number from the witches on the 13th floor? He makes a mental note to go and ask her some questions. The list continues; Rapunzel, Snow, Totenkinder, and Woody.

His eyes linger on the list of names before they drift over to [Y/N] asleep in her bed, then back to her phone. He thumbs the receiver icon and enters the number of his home phone before titling the contact “Bigby Apartment” and then creates a second one for his office titled “Bigby Office”. While it is his job to keep the residents of Fabletown safe, undiscovered, and not dead, he can’t deny that he has a soft spot for the baker.

Walking over to the pie, again, after a long moment of pondering on the case, he examines the crust, closely. The scent of roasted sugar on the fresh pie, the baked pecans of this one, and the melted white chocolate drizzle over some kind of raspberry sweet, he wonders how she doesn’t always have stomach pains being surrounded by candy and sugar.

He pauses for a moment, “candy. . .” he lifts her phone and scrolls through the contacts one more time before calling the Business Office line. It rings three times, then connects as someone picks up the other end.

“Fabletown Business Office.” It's Boy Blue.

“Blue, I need you to dig up everything you can on Hansel and Gretel. And I mean everything. I need you to bring it to me, I’ll give you the address in an hour.”

“Oh, right away, Mr. Wolf!” and the line clicks. He examines the pie, again.

Slowly, her senses become more aware as the sleep recedes and she can smell her empty apartment once more. A hollow feeling remains in her chest, but the clinking of silverware and dishes raise hope in her belly. Her eyes flutter open and she sits up, expecting to see Woody, prepared to push away the pain from a nightmare. But no, it was the Sheriff standing in her kitchen, cutting two small slices from the Brandy Pecan Pie she’d made. It wasn’t a nightmare, Woody was really gone. She frowns and he speaks up from his place in her kitchen without looking up,

“Have a nice nap?”

“I did. Until I had to wake up,” she rubs her eyes and sets her stuffed animal back in its spot against the pony wall. Turning, she drops her bare feet to the carpet, walking around to meet him in the kitchenette. He gently pushes a plate towards her, it has the slice of pie on it. Part of her doesn’t want to deal with this right after waking up, but she realizes that it’s not about dealing with it when she first wakes up, it’s something she doesn’t want to deal with in general. Still, the fact that he had cut it, and now has a piece on a plate for himself made her feel seen and understood. She looks up at him,

“I thought you weren’t a sweets person?”

“I’m not; Woody and I had our history, but he didn’t deserve what he got.”

She examines him, sees the tired and somber look in his eyes, and picks up the fork, taking a small bite from the end of the slice. It’s wonderful, nice and moist on the inside but crumbly and crunchy with the pecans on the top layer. The caramel glaze and the baked flavor made the pecans taste more nutty, giving the overall flavor a sweet and savory cacophony with every bite. No wonder Woody loved it. She opens her eyes, not sure when she closed them, and watches as the Sheriff takes his first bite. He nods his approval, and she feels the familiar swell of pride in her chest.

“It’s really good.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.” her voice is soft, just barely above a whisper. She takes in his appearance, the tie he normally wears has been removed and the top button is unclasped, allowing a bit of his chest hair to peek out from between the folds. “What was your history with Woody?”

He pauses, looks at her and lowers the fork a bit. “We lived in the homelands together, like you did.”

“But what happened that caused the tension between you two?”

“I thought you didn’t read other Fables’ stories?”

“I don’t. But I’m asking now to understand more about Woody. More about you.”

He stares at the pie for a long moment, “I’m the big bad wolf, I was doing bad things around Red’s grandma’s place. Woody and I got into it, it wasn’t a particularly good day for me, and it ended with him cutting me down the middle, shoving rocks in and kicking me into the river. We've been going rounds ever since.”

[Y/N]’s eyes widen as he recounts events casually and takes a bite of pie after he finishes speaking. “Oh wow…I can see how that would leave a bitter taste in the mouth. Were you going to hurt Red?” She's not sure she wants the answer, but the question is out of her mouth before she can even stop it.

“I don’t know. It was a long time ago, and like I said, it was a bad day.”

She hums in response, catching onto the clear message that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Did you finish with my phone?”

“Yeah, I put it back on the charger.”

“Thank you,” she sees a manila folder on the counter, underneath her phone.

“What’s the folder for?” she glances at him, curiously.

“I think I have a lead in the case.”

Her eyes become round with excitement, “really? Let’s go talk to them! Maybe we can stop them from hurting anyone else!”

“Not yet, I have to investigate first and see if it all lines up before I go accusing.”

“Who do you think it is? How did you find out so quickly?”

“It’s confidential.” he takes another small bite of his pie

“What?” Her voice comes out more incredulous than she meant it to, “Sheriff, someone I love was just murdered in cold blood and I was the one to find his corpse.”

“I don’t need you going on a revenge mission.”

“Somebody murdered an innocent Mundy woman and glamoured her to look like me to scare those close to me, and I don’t even know if I am really safe, but you’re going to refuse to tell me who you suspect is guilty of the crime for what? Because of the rules in the Business Office that you don’t even agree with? What if they come after me and I don’t know because you didn't tell me who to watch for?”

He examines her, closely, then the crumbs left on his plate. She prepares herself for a scolding, or him to just flat out refuse, but instead, he nods,

“You’re right, keeping you in the dark wouldn’t help. Just don’t go around talking about the case to anyone without me, anyone. That includes Red.” she nods, “I think it may be Hansel, Gretel, both of them, or perhaps Totenkinder has something to say for herself.”

“You think it’s-? But I haven't seen Hansel around in centuries? Isn't he still in the Homelands?”

“Either way, I need to find him and talk to him. Same with Gretel. Both bodies smelled like you, or at least your work, and with their history it could be a possibility.”

“But what reason would they have to glamour a Mundy to look like me or to kill Woody?”

“I’m not sure just yet. But I will figure it out.”

#bigby wolf #bigby wolf x reader #twau bigby #fem reader #mysteries and pastries

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littlest-w01f · 6 months ago

Text

Sunlight

Helion x Alora

HELION MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Helion is low on staff for his libraries, Rhysand casually mentions to him he knows of someone who wishes to try to go out of the House of Winds' library

Cw: None

A/n: Edit after @nox-ceur's comment, here's the breakfast, Enjoy :)

part one - part two- part three

As the morning sun casts a warm glow through the chamber's windows, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air, mingling with the scent of sizzling bacon and toast.

On the table, a bowl brimming with ripe strawberries gleams under the sunlight that beamed through the windows, their deep red hue promising a burst of sweet tanginess with each bite.

A plate heaves with golden-brown pancakes, their surface dotted with dollops of melting butter and drizzled with a rich maple syrup. A side dish of scrambled eggs, fluffy and tender, beckons with its creamy yellow hue, while slices of crisp bacon lay scattered like a constellation of savoury gold across another plate.

The golden pastries, so flaky and buttery, filled with sweet berries.

Alora gasped softly, seeing everything Helion had set on her plate, "Wow... This is so much..." Her curiosity peaked at seeing the different forms of pastries.

"Well, a good day should start with a healthy breakfast." Helion smiled, pouring some morning tea for her.

With a warm smile, Helion poured Alora a cup of freshly brewed tea. The steam rising from the cup carried the aroma of cinnamon and cloves, adding a hint of spice to the already tantalizing scents wafting from the table.

He watched as she carefully picked up a piece of pancake, holding it daintily between two fingers before bringing it to her lips. The sound of her soft sigh of pleasure echoed through the room, making his heart skip a beat.

He leaned back in his seat opposite hers slightly, admiring her delicate movements. His gaze lingered on her full lips, now glistening with traces of syrup, he looked away before he found himself imagining other ways those lips could be used.

"Helion," Alora spoke, her voice soft, pulling him out of his fantasies, "Will I be working in the library as usual? Like I used to in Night or are there..."

"…new responsibilities awaiting you here?" Helion finished her sentence, his expression thoughtful as he considered how best to utilize her skills within the Day walls.

"You've been an invaluable asset to Rhys, Alora," Helion began. "I envision you taking on more leadership roles, perhaps mentoring younger scholars."

"Of course, your time will still be divided between the library and other pursuits. We must ensure you maintain that spark of curiosity and creativity that makes your contributions so valuable." Helion's eyes locked onto hers, conveying a silent promise that he would always prioritize her well-being and growth, both academically and personally.

Helion's smile returned, softer this time. "Don't worry, my sunshine. You'll still have access to it whenever you desire. And with you being a Priestess, I doubt anyone would give you a hard time."

Alora began to speak but Helion's eyes almost darkened 5 shades, "If any of the staff here bothers you in any way, you come straight to me, alright? I have already asked them to behave." He sighed, his eyes soft again, "I won't handle your - or anyone's - mistreatment here, especially yours." He added, "Since you aren't from Day Court."

His words hung heavy in the air, echoing a promise that left no room for misinterpretation. Helion was prepared to protect her, to make her feel safe and comfortable.

Helion leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the edge of the table. "You're a part of this Court now, sunshine, our family."

"I appreciate that, Helion," Alora replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "It means a lot coming from you. I know I'm not familiar with the customs and dynamics here, but I'll do my best to adapt and fit in. But I don't wish to be treated like a breakable object, or be treated with child's hands."

He reached across the table, his hand covering hers. "You are a valued member of this court, and we will respect your boundaries and autonomy. You have my word on that."

Their gazes met, and for a moment, the unspoken connection between them crackled with tension. Then, Helion cleared his throat and looked away, breaking the spell. "Now, finish your breakfast, sunshine. And tell me, how do you enjoy your pancakes and treats? Do they meet your standards?"

Alora walked the halls and found her way to the libraries from Helion, where she would be working. Intimidating wouldn't even begin to describe it, the libraries were ten times the size they had been in the House of Winds, going on like a maze for as long as the eye could see.

As Alora wandered deeper into the labyrinthine halls of the vast library, she felt a sense of awe wash over her. It wasn't just the sheer size that was overwhelming, but the knowledge contained within these walls. She could spend a lifetime exploring and still find new treasures.

Her steps took her down row after row of towering bookshelves, each shelf laden with ancient tomes and scrolls. The scent of old paper and ink filled her senses, a comforting familiarity amidst the unfamiliar surroundings.

She paused occasionally to glance at titles, reading snippets of information that piqued her interest. There were histories, philosophies, sciences, and tales of fantastical lands that stretched beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

"Hmm, you're on time, I thought you might be late." Anahita greeted Alora as she came to her, there was a large steel canteen of water in her hand, "Good."

Anahita's tone was firm, yet there was a hint of warmth beneath her stern exterior. She appraised Alora critically, taking in her appearance and demeanour. She led the way deeper into the library, navigating the winding paths with ease. "Today, you'll be focusing on the cataloguing and organization of our collection. It's a tedious task, but an essential one for maintaining the integrity of our archives."

As they walked, Anahita continued to speak, providing Alora with instructions and expectations for her role in the library. Her words were clear and direct, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

"So exactly what I used to do for Night?" Alora asked with a smile, her head tipped up to look at the female.

Anahita nodded, "Yes, for the first few days, for you to get used to it." Anahita confirmed, her face relaxing into a slight smile. "We need to make sure you’re acclimatized to our routines and systems before we introduce you to more complex tasks."

"But you know better than to mistake this for easy work," she added, her expression once again serious. "This isn't just about putting things in order, it's about preserving our history, understanding our past, and shaping our future. There is knowledge in these walls dating back till even before the first High King."

Alora was surprised to hear that, "Really?" She looked at the bindings, wanting to read them all.

"Yes, really," Anahita affirmed, her voice carrying a note of reverence. "The knowledge contained within these walls has shaped us, guided us, kept us alive through countless generations."

"It's a responsibility we take very seriously," she concluded, her eyes meeting Alora's. They stopped at a section of shelves that needed organizing. Anahita gestured towards the books littering the floor. "Here, start with these. Make sure they're sorted properly, and add them to the correct sections."

"Alright..." Alora nodded, looking up as she noted the books and books of knowledge.

"I'll leave you to it. Here, take this canteen, and don't forget to drink, the Day sun might get to your head fast." Anahita nodded, handing her the steel canteen filled with cold water, "And stay here so you don't get lost in the maze of the libraries, if you can't help yourself and do get lost, don't forget to scream so we can get to you faster."

Before Alora could ask what Anahita meant, she was gone. Alora watched as Anahita disappeared around a corner, leaving her alone with the daunting task ahead.

She leaned forward, picked up the first book from the pile and examined it closely. Its binding was worn, its pages yellowed with age. She flipped open the cover with gentle hands, her fingers tracing the handwritten notes inside.

There was a certain magic in handling such antiquities, a tangible link to the past. Alora couldn't help but marvel at the dedication and care required to preserve these relics of history.

She got to work, organizing the books by subject matter, alphabetizing authors, and ensuring every detail was accounted for. The process was meticulous, demanding focus and attention to detail.

As Alora worked away, she couldn't help the distraction of the open book, wanting to read what was inside. Alora's curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself opening the book further, scanning the pages for intriguing passages.

The handwriting was elegant, written in old fae tongue, but she managed to decipher the meaning behind the words.

"Heliophilia, love of sunlight," She read, there was a note on the edges with a different handwriting, "Helion, what a perfect name for the Prince of Day."

Alora's eyes widened, this particular book was from the High Lord's direct family line. A small gasp escaped Alora's lips as she realized the significance of the book in her hands. Here, she held a piece of Helion's lineage, a testament to his ancestry. She carefully turned the pages, noting the entries made by various members of the royal family throughout the centuries.

Before she could get lost in the book, she resumed her work, marking the book down, shelving it in the correct place, trying her best not to get distracted.

With renewed determination, Alora returned to her task, meticulously filing the book away alongside others of similar origin and content. Each volume she handled was a piece of history, a window into the lives of people who had lived and loved, fought and died, centuries before her own existence.

The hours passed quickly as she worked, when it was time for lunch a kitchen staff had found her, bringing her food, her mind filled with thoughts of the rich tapestry of life laid out before her. In another few hours, the library had grown quiet around her, only the occasional distant echo of footsteps breaking the silence and she made her way outside.

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

{Sunlight Taglist- @anuttellaa @a-frog-with-a-laptop @lalaluch}

#acotar #acotar series #acosf #acomaf #acowar #my oc #helion x reader #helion spell cleaver #high lord helion #helion acotar #high lord of day #helion x oc #day court

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