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slugtranslation-hypmic · 3 years

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Hihihi this is may be a weird question but is your opinion on the main hypmic cast?

In brief:

(Spoiler alert: It was not brief. Stuck under a cut for length)

Ichirou: He's a good kid. I wasn’t super into him at first, as main protagonists very rarely hold my interest, but I appreciate him now for the struggles he goes through and the growth he’s experienced across the series.

Jirou: Jirou is also a good kid in his own way. I didn’t know what to do with him for a while, but now I feel like I understand him too. I don’t think he quite gets what makes Ichirou be as loved as he is, nor does he really understand what makes people love him for who he is. But that’s okay. He’ll get it someday.

Saburou: If you had tasked me as a fourteen year old to create an idealized anime boy sona, I would have come up with someone shockingly similar to Saburou. I’m fond of him. He can be a bit mean at times in a very fourteen way, but deep down, he’s a good kid too. All the BBs are good kids.

Samatoki: I just can’t not make fun of him. His posturing is so ridiculous to me that I am constantly filled with the urge to clown on him. Oh, you think you’re so tough? You think you’re a big tough guy? Well, I’m just a little bastard; what are you going to do about it? But underneath the posturing, I do feel sorry for him and admire his strengths a lot. He’s a good kid too under a very funny exterior.

Juuto: I’m enjoying learning more about him from the BB/MTC+ manga, but I’m a bit surprised at how much of a dick he is even deep down. Still, he has plenty of good qualities too, and I like him in a vague sort of way. I’d throw fruit at him over a fence but wouldn’t put any malice in it.

Riou: What a delightful individual he is. The BB/MTC chapter about him really resonated with me. For a character so outwardly obsessed with the military, Riou has an incredible understanding of the weight of his actions and such a deep appreciation for every living thing. There’s a lot of his depth to his simplicity, and the level of care he exhibits towards everyone is delightful to witness. An absolute favorite among the cast.

Ramuda: Self-recognition through the other (derogatory). In all seriousness, Ramuda’s story arc and actions are great narrative tools for me to examine some things about myself and grow to try to be a better, more considerate person towards myself and others. I want to see him achieve freedom and happiness.

Gentarou: I enjoy Gentarou quite a bit, although I think he gets overshadowed by the other members of Fling Posse at times due to my sheer passion for Dice and Ramuda. He’s my favorite character to translate at the moment, which is apparently heresy among Hypmic translators. More than the sheer fun of writing his witty banter, I find him to be a very intriguing individual, and I’m excited to learn more about him. I want his happiness too.

Dice: Oh, Dice... He’s a really good kid in a way that the BBs could never be. He’s deceptively good, and he does choose to hurt other people and himself in ways that characters like Ichirou don’t. But he also finds the goodness in the oddest places, like a person finding a coin in a cracked sidewalk, and that’s delightful. His narrative is one of the most compelling for me. What a champion of a character.

Jakurai: Wow, what a good foil for Ramuda. Let me bounce narratives off of you like a mirror. I’m slowly learning to find him compelling in his own right, however. This is also a self-recognition through the other (derogatory) scenario, but there’s more of an emphasis on the derogatory part.

Hifumi: A funny little individual bearing a lot of sadness and a whole lot more courage. Like most of Matenrou, I admire him a lot, but I think that Matenrou resonates much more strongly with other people than they do for me, so I prefer to sit back and let other people appreciate them. I think he’s very brave and very fun to read/write.

Doppo: The biggest fucking mood in existence. When you move past the stereotypical aspects, you end up with another character who has a lot of deep flaws but also an incredible amount of courage. I’m excited to see where they go with him, but again, I’ll sit back and let others take the first row here.

Kuukou: Having already drafted Saburou, if you came back to me at age eighteen and asked me to make an idealized anime boy sona, you would probably have ended up with a character astonishingly like Kuukou. He brings me sheer joy. Astonishingly, I feel like Kuukou has exhibited the least growth out of any of the cast, and yet I do not mind a bit. He is the closest to the perfect man I have ever met. I would drop everything to be this dude’s homie if he existed in real life. Just a champion individual.

Juushi: Juushi’s a good kid. I’m very fond of him and like writing him, but much like Matenrou, I feel like he does a lot more for other people than he does for me. Therefore, much of how I work with him is less, “How do I enjoy this character as a reader?” and more “How do I nurture the traits about him that other people love?”

Hitoya: Hitoya strikes me as a damn good person with a lot of heart who sometimes lets his anger drive him a bit too much. He’s also utterly ridiculous, of course, but I try to write him with as much strength as possible to be present behind his words. He honestly seems like a great person to know in real life, not simply as a fictional character, as well.

Sasara: I have to clown on him to assert dominance. Joking aside, I admire the depths of his character and the growth he’s shown over the series. He can be pretty callous at times and goes to odd lengths to get what he wants, but I think he’s now starting to realize how much his actions affect other people. For a while I was really in his camp as a hardcore Sasara lover (back before he was a main cast member - I love writing quirky minor characters), but now I approach him with the idea mentioned above, ie how I can present him for other people.

Roshou: Whenever he’s around the rest of Dotsu Hon, I think he’s kind of an idiot. I mean that in the best way possible. It’s very endearing. Yet moments when he’s on his own are where I think he best shines, and I would love to see more solo material for him. He’s an incredibly good support character, and I admire his passion for his students.

Rei: I really enjoy asshole antagonists, which is why I liked Ramuda for a while before the clone story came up behind me and struck me into the ground with its mighty fists. Now Rei fills this role. I would love to learn more about him and team up with the Buster Bros to pelt him with rotten eggs in a fun bonding activity. I’m sure there is some strong backstory that will absolve him of at least some of his shittiness, but until now, I’m still not excusing his whole abandoning his children thing, not to mention the human trafficking thing he pulled with Ramuda.

Otome: I hate translating her, if only because she and Rei frequently talk about things in extremely vague terms that I have no context for. It’s hard to make her sound idiomatic in English while also not shooting myself in the foot by accidentally filling in the wrong information. But with that aside, she’s okay. I like her, I guess. Her motivations are pretty interesting.

Ichijiku: Ichijiku was written for people who are sexually attracted to women, and I’m not at all, so I 100% approach her in terms of her pull on other people. She’s fun on her own, though, and I’m impressed at her ability to walk in high heels. Her complete disrespect for everyone but Otome brings me no end of entertainment in reading and writing.

Nemu: YOU. Maybe this is some stupid toxic masculinity thing, but I always feel embarrassed speaking affectionately about male characters but not at all about female characters. Therefore Nemu gets all of my loveposting. She’s a wonderful girl! She has such a strong spirit, and I’m completely overjoyed that she’s making her own decisions and becoming her own character defined on her own terms. I want to watch her grow up big and strong. Fuck yes, baby girl! Fuck it up! I’m very proud of her.

#not a translation #asks #hypmic asks

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dreamteamfanblog · 3 years

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Y'know, I don't actually have a well defined stance on the "Should We All Be Treating Dream Better In Prison" debate, partially because I haven't been watching the Smp regularly for a while and am most likely not up to date with everything and from what i've heard/seen I am kinda on the fence, so like, i'm not arguing for either the stance that Dream should be treated better in prison than he is or for the stance that nobody's obligated to be nice to him after the moral event horizon's he's crossed. Like. I am not making a stance on which is correct.

But I will say the debate in Dream's favour makes me a bit uneasy solely for the fact that it really seems like the long standing Dream Apologism (or at least tolerance) tendency back in full force. That's not me saying "We can't criticize the way the prison is set up rn", I myself don't know how I feel about the conditions in the prison. It's not the suggestion that conditions should be better in of itself that puts me on edge. It's the sheer unadulterated passion and fury and intolerance towards characters who aren't Dream next to this very lackluster mumbly noncommittal "hahh yeah that was really bad and not good :(" certain parts of the fandom extend when it comes to what Dream's done.

I see lots of people incredibly passionate about how Dream's mental health is bad now and he's not getting enough nutrition and he's being mistreated, and i'm not going to go on record and say I even disagree necessarily but I will ask where that energy is from these exact same people while Dream's continuing to regularly commit atrocities?

A lot of the "Dream Deserves Better Treatment In Prison" crowd will vaguely acknowledge that Dream is Bad and has done Bad things, but they never match the passion they extend in Dream's favour to criticize him with the same fierceness when it comes to things like his consistent and continued abusive behaviour towards poor Ranboo, the fact that he beat a child to death while locked in the prison together then laughed about it (then smugly taunted about how he could do it again and again and the people on the server were still his puppets), murdering Ghostbur/reviving Wilbur with no remorse or hesitance, etc.

I mean sure all but the most diehard out of touch Dream Apologists will very briefly acknowledge these things with a neutral-negative tone but it's literally so blatantly lackluster besides the same people's impassioned fury over how Dream's treated in prison.

And this isn't a new thing!

People are quick to downplay Dream's corruption in the early days of the Smp before the revolution, people are quick to minimize Dream's role in everything Schlatt did, people were a bit too hasty to insist back when the exile conflict first happened that he very possibly really was just upset with Tommy for griefing and probably wasn't even planning to hurt L'manburg or use Tubbo (which...we know is false now and honestly knew was false then too lets be real), hell, there was this whole cognitive dissonance mental gymnastics thing going on throughout season two where people tried to juggle both the fact that Dream's actively psychologically torturing a child all season and the idea that he's not really a tyrant per say and we don't necessarily need to shove him out of power cause has he really done that much to deser-

you get the idea

It's not apologism per say. When pushed people will acknowledge that Dream's a bad person or that specific things that are pretty impossible to ignore were really awful of him.....then cha cha slide right into "But is it REALLY okay to do/say/feel ____ regarding him???".

It's not apologism. But it is tolerance. And the expectation that his victims be tolerant as well.

During the early days of the Smp, Dream unfairly asserted an authority over people who did not want him to govern them. He dished out punishments, made up rules, dictated the lives of others, involved himself in conflicts that were not his business, etc, and when he was told to leave just a few of these people alone in just a tiny little area of land because his governing was unwanted? He asserted himself supreme authority, named his friend king, and then repeatedly killed and destroyed the land of like four people who literally just asked him to leave them alone and stop bossing them around for no reason. He was oppressive, he killed, he stole, he destroyed everything around him with no mercy because someone asked him to stop bothering them and not enter a plot of land that literally took up like a hill in a plains biome and nothing else at the time. There are one person houses on the server bigger than the original L'manburg land plot. Dream was a tyrant who took five canon lives in one day because he was so entitled he couldn't fucking handle the hit his overblown ego took over such a reasonable request. However many people, even people who will vaguely acknowledge that Dream wasn't a good leader back then, will actively ignore or even openly flippantly downplay his atrocious behaviour while also getting weirdly fixated on, like, the 'drug' van thing. Wilbur is a very corrupt person and he has been since before the Pogtopia arc, I will die on that hill, but within the context of the Independence War....L'manburg was entirely in the right? And didn't really do anything?? Like first off I really don't care how often they do the whole bit of calling them drugs, they're potions, the implications are not the same. Secondly, they literally just scammed Tubbo, and not even out of much all things considered, which are like, standard Dream Smp shenanigans, come on now, and like, when it was blown up and made into this big thing where now Tommy and Wilbur are going to jail.....everyone was kinda just like "wait what the fuck". Like. Eret and Tubbo both literally switched sides to side with Wilbur and Tommy midway through the arrests cause like...what the fuck. Like, as Wilbur himself pointed out, they didn't even do anything illegal, Sapnap just decided on the spot that it was and he's taking them into custody. Tubbo was literally the one person scammed and he was a L'manburg citizen from its very conception. The fact that people have always been so ready to minimize Dream's corrupt bs at the time while fixating on bUt ThE dRuG vAn is really weird. And while most people don't take it so far as to claim that independence was a bad thing to ask for full stop, they're also way too fuckin' keen on making L'manburg's side look a lot less innocent than it was and making Dream and his soldiers look a lot less corrupt, unreasonable, and power hungry than they clearly were at the time, instead implying that L'manburg somehow took things too far or had disingenuous origins despite not actually doing anything illegal or super immoral anyway, they were literally just asking Dream to back off from their absolutely tiny little patch of land and stop telling them what to do, and Dream was the one who declared war outright and then started murdering/stealing/pillaging/burning-and-exploding shit all over the place. A lot of people, even as they acknowledge he's Bad, expect an unreasonable amount of tolerance for Dream while being rather overly critical and judgmental of the other side of the conflict in question to an unfair degree. They aren't defending Dream per say, they're just fixating heavily on the other party's perceived wrongdoings while Dream is doing horrific atrocious things and just kinda gets vaguely handwaved at. Sometimes this dips directly into the "Dream was bad obviously, but was starting a revolution and war against him really necessary when it caused so much bloodshed :( ?" argument as well.

This carried on very neatly into the Manburg-Pogtopia arc, Dream's tyrannical oppressive destructive violent acts are acknowledged by a little "Dream's bad and all" and then is followed up by heavy criticism of the other side for doing something completely reasonable as the "Well, Schlatt was TECHNICALLY legally elected!" argument takes hold and it's implied that Pogtopia maybe shouldn't have staged a coup, I mean, that wasn't legal, y'know? Are they Just As Bad actually? Or if not just as bad at least also bad and therefore worthy of criticism? What right did Every Single Member Of L'manburg have to overthrow a democratically elected leader even if he did wrongly imprison them, exile his political opponents, tear down historical monuments, raise taxes unreasonably, and execute a child in front of a crowd? What about the Law? Aren't Pogtopia technically usurpers??? Isn't that Wrong™? I cannot stress enough how often i've seen people trying Really hard not to look like they're defending Dream while actively downplaying his actions and criticizing the rebellion on its legality as if Schlatt was not literally the only citizen of L'manburg left because he executed/exiled/chased-off literally every single other person in the nation wanted him gone because he was a tyrant and obviously his Legal Election doesn't counteract that despite people's attempts to argue that while Dream was bad (and schlatt too, though we'd be lucky to get any sort of description of what 'bad' entails here, much less one that does justice to how monstrous these people are) did we really have a right to force them out of office so harshly with violence?

Or going into the exile conflict, I like, instantly clocked that the plan was to isolate/hurt Tommy, drain L'manburg of whatever resources he wanted out of them, then destroy them. I think most people with two braincells to rub together at least picked up on some of his plan, and of course it's very obvious that what Tommy did was not exile worthy and that Dream would have picked up any excuse he could think of here. But of course you had a ton of people downplaying Dream's actions/intentions/motives. And somehow the weird hyper criticism of the victims got even more severe. Like. To the point where some parts of the community almost seemed to be engaged in a contest to see who could find the most ways to tone police Tommy, Quackity, and Fundy the most for being upset about tyrannical governmental abuse that put all of them in danger and functionally destroyed one of their lives. Like. They will literally downplay or brush right past Dream's shady horrendous bs so quick to jump right into their best point of how Tommy brought this upon himself or was too emotional or needs to learn how to control himself or is so Selfish because he dared be....baffled and angry by the random unfair disproportionate punishment when he didn't do anything wrong. This exact same bullshit extends to when Quackity and Fundy get upset and snap over the exile decision, people sweep right past how horrifically agonizingly atrocious Dream's actions were and then immediately start calling Quackity and Fundy hysterical at the absolute best but much more commonly manipulative or power hungry for the high crime of being deeply upset that a good friend of theirs was just unfairly exiled on the whims of a tyrant, to the point where there were people outright criticizing them for the fact alone that they dared be upset/question the decision instead of immediately politely accepting it and just letting the leaders responsible get on with their lives with no complaint!

And then the rest of the season was the same shit with people acknowledging Dream as bad but pearl clutching at any sign of action against him or people not being polite and tolerant of him. I think I damn near cracked when people watched Quackity call Dream a tyrant and insist he couldn't get away with treating people the way he does and immediately jumped into how dumb and reckless and mean spirited and power hungry and whatever Quackity is. Literally any time he spoke out against Dream for like any reason in any way! This also extended to anyone else whenever they weren't super palatably polite and tolerant of Dream and wound up immediately labeled all sorts of distasteful things because they actually tried to take action against him or even just had the 'audacity' to say some mean things to/about him or the people who help him commit atrocities! Dream gets away with just vaguely being Bad™ but his victims, whenever they aren't the picture of grace or respect or obedience for two seconds, become any number of very specific and very passionate insults and accusations.

They aren't Dream apologists, they don't condone or defend his actions, they acknowledge him as Bad, but they're so much more angry whenever people DO something about it!

Dream is bad™ but wasn't L'manburg escalating to independence like that so quickly in bad faith, especially after the Drugs™? Dream is bad™ but like he has a point that Schlatt was elected so did the people really have a right to stage an illegal coup there? Dream is bad™ but Tommy shouldn't have been so angry and reactionary when Dream tried to get him exiled for no reason, right? Dream is bad™ but can we really say it's right for Quackity to engage in mild skirmishes with him and insult him??

This weird tone policing in which anytime one of Dream's victims is harsh or mean with him they're suddenly *insert wide range of very harsh insults/accusations* is really weird. Dream is bad™ but if anyone does anything about it besides quietly/politely asking him to please stop that sir? They get harshly critiqued to hell for it wheras there's never any suggestion for what they should be doing besides Giving Him What He Wants Very Politely Until He Goes Away. Any insults or acts of rebellion or god forbid violence against Dream is so unacceptable and the people who do any of the listed things are just indescribably bad. Even when Dream hurts and oppresses everyone to this very day and shows no remourse about a single thing, I still see people out here doing this shit.

And, well, I see a lot of the "Dream Needs Better Prison Conditions" crowd be very critical of people who aren't Dream and literally every time they do anything that could be considered even remotely Mean To Dream and they get so much more heated about that then about the actual horrific things Dream has done.

So while I don't take a stance on the point itself at the moment, i'm at least very wary of the whole situation because there's this long standing precedent of fixating in on people not being palatable™ and respectable™ in how they handle interacting with the person responsible for brutal and consistent oppression against them, this long standing precedent when it comes to narrowing in on how Dream's effected by the people who's lives he's ruined acting out against him or not treating him well and absolutely refusing to extend empathy to the other party who, even when they do end up doing 'bad' things at any point, never do anything near as bad as what Dream's done and yet get significantly less sympathy or tolerance than he does. And while i'm neutral on the topic itself i'm deeply suspicious of this whole debate by nature of this precedent and how a lot of the Improve Prison Conditions For Dream crowd are openly much more empathetic towards him than any of the people he victimized and are more likely to brush by his honest to god unforgivable sins than literally anything at all from the objectively much more sympathetic/justified people he's hurt. It just all feels very familiar and i'm inclined to feel like a lot of the debate can read as worryingly disingenuous on that premise alone?

#dream smp #dream smp discourse

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fellulahh · 4 years

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Lucifer x MC x Satan Fic, Part 28/???

Read Parts 1-27 here!

Lucifer no longer cared about his pledge or his constantly shedload of work. All he cared about was MC and all he wanted was for her to finally know exactly how he felt about her.

And he needed to tell her everything before it was too late.

Stirring in bed, MC let out a soft moan as her body began to awake. As she fell back into consciousness, she was a little dazed and confused after feeling a pair of arms wrapped around her body.

But then the memories of the previous night came flooding back into her mind.

With her eyes fluttering open, she blinked for a moment before turning to glance at Satan. He was still sleeping peacefully with his head resting on MC’s chest. His blond hairs were stuck to his forehead as his lips were parted.

MC found it amusing how she fell asleep curled up in his arms yet in their slumber, they appeared to switch positions. Satan’s arms were draped across her body; as though he was afraid of her leaving him.

The human found herself gazing at him softly. Lifting her hand gently, she caressed his cheek with her fingers as he continued to sleep. While studying his face, MC’s eyebrows furrowed.

‘I can’t keep my eyes off him...’

Being held in Satan’s arms made MC forget about everything bad that had happened lately. Her heartbeat had quickened just thinking about how oblivious she’d been all of this time and just how happy Satan truly made her feel.

He made her feel safe, warm, beautiful but most importantly, loved.

Bringing her head forward, she pressed a kiss on the top of Satan’s head; lingering for a few seconds. Moving her arm around his back, MC gave him a gentle squeeze. All she wanted to do was tell him how she’d been blinded to her infatuation with him but she was worried.

Considering mere days ago she was crying over Lucifer, would people really believe her if she now claimed to love the brother who’d been her shoulder to cry on?

Letting out a sigh, MC fell back onto the bed; loosening her grip on Satan. Despite having conflicted thoughts, her mind soon eased again after the feeling the warmth radiate off the demon beside her.

Suddenly stirring, Satan stretched out an arm as his eyes slowly opened. It took a moment for him to adjust to the light but soon his tired face turned to MC. Although he was beyond happy to see her still beside him, Satan kept a soft expression.

“Hey.” He spoke in a hoarse voice, “how are you feeling this morning?”

“Good...” MC breathed, not taking her eyes off him. “I...that was one of the best sleeps I’ve had in months.”

“Me too.” He smiled.

Laying in silence, MC lifted her hand once more as she began pushing Satan’s hair away from his forehead, admiring the way his eyes were glassy having just woke up.

“There’s something I want to tell you, Satan.” MC spoke quietly, feeling herself growing tense as the atmosphere grew silent.

Despite being completely nervous, Satan didn’t seem to notice MC’s change in behaviour.

“If you’re going to thank me for last night, then please don’t bother.” He let out a chuckle, “I’ve told you time and time again that you don’t need to.”

“...okay.” MC spoke simply, deciding not to go with her original confession. “If you’re not going to allow me to thank you, will you at least let me make breakfast for you?”

“No.” He shook his head, “I want to make it together.”

Nodding her head, MC found herself gazing at Satan again. “Okay.” She smiled warmly, “I’ll go and freshen up and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Wanting to leave but unable to, MC lingered in the bed. Although she needed to shower, she couldn’t find the strength to leave Satan; especially when their bodies were entangled. And especially when he was looking at her like that.

Feeling her stomach begin to flutter, MC’s eyes trailed to Satan’s lips and before long she was imagining kissing them again.

With any further hesitation, MC brought her face to Satan’s and kissed him quickly on the lips. Pulling back out with a blush, she smiled at him one last time before walking to the door.

“I’ll see you down there?” She asked hopefully, turning around as she was about to leave.

“Yeah...” Satan breathed, feeling a smile creep onto his lips, “I’ll see you down there.”

As soon as MC left, he flopped back down onto his pillow; unable to comprehend how perfect it felt to wake up in MC’s warm arms. Turning over in bed, Satan’s whole body relaxed when he felt the scent of her linger in his nostrils.

Closing his eyes, he imagined what it’d be like to experience this euphoria every morning.

‘Maybe she could grow to love me...’ Satan wondered.

Sighing, he began to realise that perhaps it was time to be open with his feelings. Regardless of whether he thought he was a rebound or not, he wanted to tell MC he loved her.

A small part of Satan clung to the thought that MC really could have fallen for him too.

Meanwhile, walking through the hallways, MC bit her lip and played with her fingers as the thought of sleeping with Satan crossed her mind. There was a small red tint to her cheeks as she neared her bedroom door. Despite being a mess barely 12 hours ago, things seemed to be clear for MC now.

But could that be changed?

Reaching her bedroom, she turned the door handle. As she stepped inside, she froze in her tracks when she saw Lucifer sat on the edge of the bed with her necklace entangled in his fingers. Despite being in her room, he seemed surprised to see her. As he glanced up, MC could tell that he hadn’t slept. Though his eyes were surrounded by dark circles, he still managed to look handsome.

“MC.” He spoke in his usual stern voice, standing up from the bed, “I was hoping you’d come back soon.”

“What are you doing here?” She asked quietly, concerned to see him in her room.

Shutting the door behind her, MC stepped closer toward him.

“I have been doing a lot of thinking.” He informed her, setting the necklace to one side. “My mind has been racing and I’ve been unable to sleep because of this.”

Despite seeming so open, MC could tell that it took a lot of courage for him to be talking to her. Usually his pride radiates off him but this morning was different.

Eyeing him up cautiously, MC remained silent as she listened to his words.

“I understand that I have hurt you not only once, but twice now.” He continued, “and for that I don’t expect forgiveness from you no matter how much I apologise. I just...I just need to talk to you.”

“I’m listening...” MC said slowly, intrigued by his conversation.

“My intentions are never to push you away, MC.” He stated, “I don’t expect you to understand but I find great difficulty in being able to commit myself to someone when my whole life is being restricted by a pledge.”

MC nodded, expecting to hear the same vague, generic speech that she had received weeks ago.

“As you know, I hold a lot of pride in my duty. But I am finding it even more difficult being able to go about my usual life like there’s nothing constantly riddling my mind.” He further explained.

“What do you mean?” She pressed.

“I wanted to be able to commit myself to you.” He admitted, “but I felt that I couldn’t because my time was always needed elsewhere. And yet I still couldn’t just say no to you; I was always drawn to you and couldn’t find it in myself to push you away.”

“But that’s exactly what you did?” MC furrowed her eyebrows.

“Please...” he spoke softly, “let me explain.”

“I’m listening.” MC stated.

“And then I kissed you.” Lucifer spoke, lowering his tone, “and in that moment, everything seemed to flash before me. The happiness that radiated off you in that moment made me realise how easy it’d be for me to rip it away. All I could think about was how I’d let you down if I tried to commit to you. I feared that if I were to put duty before love, it’d eventually drive you away or even hurt you.”

MC parted her lips and her heart began to thud.

“But after realising my fear for losing you to somebody else was far greater, I realised that I’d have to swallow my pride and take a risk.” Lucifer confessed.

“You saw Satan and I?” MC asked barely above a whisper.

“That I did.” Lucifer reluctantly confirmed. “And to see the one demon who loathes me claw into you after I couldn’t even bring myself to admit any feelings for you, I realised that I couldn��t go on acting oblivious.”

“Satan never clawed at me, Lucifer.” MC stated firmly.

“Try to see things from my perspective, MC.” He insisted, “he knows my weakness, he knows exactly what troubles my mind—“

“He knows?” MC questioned, “is there something I have missed?”

Although MC knew that Satan and Lucifer didn’t exactly get on, his words of disgruntle seemed oddly specific.

“I don’t want you to focus on Satan and I.” Lucifer spoke quietly, “I only want you to focus on what I am about to tell you.”

“Then start talking...” MC breathed.

“I may have fears and worries...and a pledge to Lord Diavolo but I don’t want to use them as an excuse anymore.” He stated passionately, “I don’t want any of those factors to rid me of the one beam of light in my life.”

“What are you saying?” She whispered, feeling her whole body freeze.

“I love you, MC. And I want to be with you.”

Standing on the other side of the door, frozen in his spot, Satan’s face fell. Despite making plans to meet downstairs, he still wanted to see her face one more time before getting ready.

He had a hopeful spring to his step as he made his way toward MC’s room. However, after noticing the door closed and two voices on the other side, he decided to give her some privacy.

That was until he recognised the second voice as Lucifer’s.

Satan didn’t want to invade MC’s privacy but part of him knew he couldn’t walk away after knowing she was alone with the one demon who hurt her. Therefore, not caring about what may happen to him if he’s discovered, Satan stepped closer to the door. Leaning against it, he slowed down his breathing as he listened carefully on the other side.

And that’s when his heart was ripped from his chest.

Not wanting to hear any more, he lost all hope as he swiftly stormed back down the hallways. His face completely soured after hearing Lucifer confess his love to MC; the one thing she’d always wanted to hear.

How could he be so stupid into thinking that MC could have fallen for him? Of course she only confided in him because he was a shoulder to cry on and Satan felt like he had himself to blame for that.

Passing Asmo in one of the halls, the fifth eldest spun around after feeling the rage radiating off his brother.

“Satan, what’s wrong?” He asked quietly. “Have you seen MC?”

“She’s busy.” He breathed before pushing his way into his bedroom.

Shutting the door behind him, he pressed his back to the wood before sliding down until he was collapsed on the floor with his face buried in his hands.

Though usually he’d force himself to be happy for MC, he just couldn’t find it within himself to feel that way now.

Oh no, Satan!

How do you think MC will react to Lucifer’s confession?

#obey me #obey me shall we date

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morievna · 3 years

Text

My problems with Haruki’s arc and why it could be done better

Hello, a bit late but still happy halloween ^^

Something a bit different this time - more of rant than meta. As maybe you noticed I don’t post usually about Haruki – it is not that particularly dislike him, just his storyline is not that engaging to me and I feel a bit lukewarm about him. Don’t get me wrong – in real life I think it would be great to have friend like him, but fiction works differently. I was thinking why I feel this way about him and I wanted to put it into words.

Since it is my personal opinion therefore goes disclaimer first - my intention is not to bash Haruki or anything like that. Most of my criticism is more about story, because I think Kizu Natsuki could done it better. Some of choices regarding his arc are really weird to me. Although I love Given a lot, it is not that I consider it perfect story. Nothing is perfect after all.

Okay, so let’s get started.

Honestly, to me it feels like Haruki is more of sidekick even though he is one of main characters. To me it stands out how Haruki’s story is done differently than rest of the band. He is usually there to support other characters or help them moving on, but in regards of his characters development there is not that much going on. I mean – at beginning we had learnt that he is kind, caring and dependable person and currently… we don’t really know more aside that. Of course, these traits are admirable, but it is not how character arc should be ^^

For why it is important:

We tell stories because there is a universal lesson. It’s why we feel humanity in far away galaxies and in magical worlds, it all relates back to the same, very human need. Maybe it’s overcoming trauma, or learning how to be independent, or just bettering ourselves in some way through universal experiences. There must be something your character learns about themselves. They should be a very different person at the end of your story than they were at the beginning, otherwise the story isn’t really about them, they’re just in it.

[source]

The last two lines are especially good explanation why I have problem with Haruki.

For rest of main characters we have characters development going in two ways – honing their music skills and more personal side – working on their flaws, overcoming trauma, following the dreams. Even though their family background is vague, it still gives some explanation for their behavior. We see them interacting with various characters and see how they relate to others. Live performances served as important plot points, where we see them reflecting on themselves, making decisions and moving on with their life.

But with Haruki with have very little of all of that.

There is no information why he started playing music or why it is important to him. We just know that he is doing it for fun, which is very little comparing how much time was spent on Mafuyu writing songs or Akihiko reminiscing on his dreams about violin. I mean – is it his passion or is he doing it just to be close to Akihiko? I am not really sure. Though Haruki considers his abilities as mediocre, we don’t really know why he thinks like that. His music skills are not really in the focus of the story – only comments are like “ bass and drums are in good sync”, which don’t really are about his skill, but more about what state is his relationship with Akihiko.

On the other side, there is no better situation with Haruki’s character growth. We can see that he has not much of self-esteem and always puts others before himself. But it is done rather in sketchy way and comparing to other characters it is not given that much attention and time.

Let’s look on it closer.

Haruki’s arc started for good after first live - we got more of his POV chapters after that. As mentioned earlier, he believes to be mediocre at everything and later we see him feeling inadequate and not at the same level as others.

Even though both of them are talented he seems to idealize it very much and kind of assume it all came effortlessly – it is a bit weird to me especially considering how much time they all spend practicing in the studio, but I guess it is to show how low his self-esteem is.

Then the issue with his self-doubt skyrocketed after whole situation with Akihiko – although Akihiko had done a lot wrong to him, what mattered the most to Haruki was fact that he refused his help and didn’t even wanted to share his worries with him. It seems like the most he fears that he is not needed by others.

He tends to put others before himself even not thinking about his own well-being beforehand.

And then all of it is suddenly solved by this scene after Haruki playing badly at practice and never brought up again *facepalms*

Though I get from that scene that Gusari’s intent is to tell us that leadership and soft skills are as much important as music skills but still… the way it is executed and whole context is just not satisfactory to me.

Akihiko telling Haruki that it is his own fault for playing badly – sure Akihiko it has nothing to do with what you done *facepalm*

Akihiko telling Haruki that he should focus on solely him - surely it feels like good solution to focus only on person who hurt you a lot not that much time ago *facepalm*

Overall, i also don’t like how it kind of feels like Haruki’s music skill doesn’t matter and he just should be supporting others and not thinking about anything else.

Though Akihiko’s words helped Haruki, it is very unconvincing to me. This scene feels to me like it was done without thinking through what happened earlier between these two. Even though there is good intent, execution is could be way better – because it makes Akihiko look arrogant and not really being empathetic to Haruki’s situation. I preferred if it would be more emphasis that is okay that Haruki played badly this one time and more like assuring that it is okay for him to take time to heal after what happened.

So in short – we got character which is dependable, who is anxious whether others find him dependable and then his love interest told him that yes, he is dependable and problem solved xD

Which is disappointing to me. I mean - obviously positive feedback is important and valuable, but still imo self-esteem should grounded not only on that.

What I dislike about all of that is that it puts Haruki in box of being dependable. It is like only that matters when it comes to him. Even more background characters like Hiiragi, Shizu or Ugetsu are given more nuances, but he is defined just by this trait. It looks like his main role is to support other characters and hence he isn’t given more characters development and stay the way he is whole time just to preserve current dynamics in the band.

Next ~~

The other problem I have is that Haruki’s storyline orbits too much around Akihiko. I mean I get it that he is his main love interest and sometimes love stories are like that, but it is just too much. Because of that it feels to me like Haruki is more passive as character – like he is not in center of his story just only reacting to what Akihiko does and wants. Even conversation he had with other characters are mostly about Akihiko. Even when he is not main topic he is briefly referenced. All of it feels like in Haruki’s arc it is Akihiko who matters the most.

Especially looking close on his subplot about playing as support:

he started that to cheer up because was feeling lonely and his one-sided crush for Akihiko weighted down him

Haruki didn’t want to tell Akihiko about playing as support, because he suspected that he will not like it

Haruki put on hold playing as support because Akihiko was displeased about that greatly

later when their relationship was on better terms he decide to play with other band

It is like what Akihko wants and thinks of him is most important to Haruki. Like that he that matters to him the most and makes his decisions because of that.

Maybe I wouldn’t mind that much if their dynamics were interesting to me. However, their interactions feel to much repetitive to me – it is always Haruki acting flustered around Akihiko or commenting how he is handsome/adorable/whatever.

On the other side, it is a bit odd to me how different Akihiko treats Haruki than Ugetsu. With the latter he is often more patient and understanding, but around Haruki he usually behaves like big spoiled kid. In addition, there is problematic stuff that happened between them that is well, problematic and could be better resolved imo.

Don’t get me wrong – it is still better done than most BL, but still the way it is executed is a bit off-putting to me. It feels like only one aspect is brought up the most – that Akihiko didn’t rely with his Ugetsu problems on Haruki – and the rest are kind of forgotten by the story. Besides, sometimes I not even sure if Akihiko know how much he hurt Haruki by his action – he looks so much shocked by Haruki’s reactions multiple times to the point it is just weird to me.

Because of that his apology rings a bit empty too. It is not like I want Akihko to apologize more or having to prove himself. For me it would me enough if it would be line somewhere like “i know I’ve hurt you a lot” . But no, even during confession scene he talked mostly about himself all the time XD Though he admitted to be childish - it is not the same as regretting wrongdoings. What he done was too severe to be so overlooked even though Haruki forgiven him completely. Or dunno maybe it is again just me being too much of Capicorn.

To sum it up, for me Akiharu relationship is much too close to het romances in mainstream media (like in Marvel movies), where usually you got main male character who has to save the day and his love interest which main role is supporting him on the sideline. And usually she is his kind of reward for his “manning up” when they got together at the end of the story. Therefore these characters are often flawless embodiment of being pure, kind and innocent. They exist as safe haven for protagonist and don’t have usually any arc in the movie.

And it is the way Haruki was framed in the story – as being only Akihiko’s salvation and not full-fleshed character who matters as much as him.

Okaaay, so I am done complaining. I don’t want to end here on negative note, so I will add where I hope story would go^^

Basically I want Haruki to think of himself more, to realize that he doesn’t have to be genius to be good at something, to find out that there are things he is really good at, to realize that he is too hard on himself. That he doesn’t have only to support others, but he matters as person and musician too.

I also want to him to be more independent and be more assertive sometimes. To not putting others before himself and finding out that is okay to selfish sometimes. Even though it would means some tensions and challenges for Given. But I think it is necessary for his growth as person.

If Akiharu is endgame for real, then I want their relationship to be more balanced and it should be shown that Haruki’s needs and wants matter as much as Akihiko’s. And Akihiko should be more understanding and not that he is still too insecure about Haruki’s playing as support (like in the last chapter *sigh*). If not, then I would preferred them to stay as friends.

To put it shortly – I want some proper epiphany for Haruki that he is the one he should love in the first place ^^

Thank you for reading and stay healthy <3

#given #given meta #given manga #haruki nakayama #nakayama haruki #kaji akihiko #akihiko kaji #kizu natsuki

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silverlightqueen · 4 years

Text

Tequila Sunrise

Hoseok x reader - smut, fluff, very slight angst at the beginning

Inspired by Tequila Sunrise - 88rising, Jackson Wang, Higher Brothers, August 08 and GoldLink

Word Count: 7k+

Summary - Hoseok bails on you for work on day one of your holiday, but he soon makes it up to you...

Warnings - there’s a lot !! very brief mention of blood, alcohol consumption, lots of swearing, lots of dirty talk, degradation, possessiveness, dom!hobi x sub!reader, a very brief moment of dom!reader and sub!hobi, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), face sitting, edging, lots of breast play and nipple play (Hobi loves boobs lol), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mildly bratty reader, spanking, praise kink, pain kink, asphyxiation, reader calls Hobi Sir, rough sex, Hobi has a big dick, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it !!) creampie, cum-eating, impregnation kink, reader cries during sex and Hobi loves it, reader holds his hand and he busts a nut lmao, begging, hair pulling, groping, hickeys, gross overuse of ‘baby’ ‘baby girl’ and ‘doll’, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed anything lol

a/n: hey guys !! I’ve been listening to this song on repeat the past couple days bc the weather’s been so nice, and (after that pic of jhope in malta appeared on my tl again) I was inspired to write a little Hobi fic (which then became 7k words long lmao). unedited as usual, but I hope y’all like it. lmk what you think, and make sure you listen to the song when you read it !! x

silverlightqueen masterlist

When his Mercedes pulls up, I’m sat on the front porch – as I have been all day and all night – looking out at the still night sea, the sky above me dark with stars, the air a crisp and cool relief from the humidity of the daytime.

I don’t even look in his direction, trying to supress the anger that’s been building up since I awoke yesterday morning to his side of the bed empty and his car gone from the drive.

In my peripheral vision, I see him take a black cargo bag out of the boot and head up towards the house, watching me.

He doesn’t say anything, walking past me and through the front door, and I try not to follow him into the house and scream at him, opting to take a deep breath and look out at the view in front of me instead.

It’s not every day you get to sit on the porch of your private villa and watch the gentle waves rock up against the shore, the starry sky twinkling overhead.

He joins me a few minutes later, having changed from his all-black attire into a pair of black slim trousers and a loose white shirt, the neutral colours setting off his golden skin.

He puts a jug full of my favourite cocktail (therefore the only cocktail he knows how to make) down on the glass coffee table in front of us and pours out two glasses, handing me the one with a straw in it.

I take it from him wordlessly as he sits next to me, our legs touching, and I sip up a mouthful through the straw, the notes of tart orange flooding my senses, closely followed by the almost sickly-sweet taste of pomegranate.

He may not be the most… diverse drink-maker, but he makes a beautiful Tequila Sunrise.

He puts his bare feet up on the footstool beside him and rests a hand on my thigh.

I restrain myself from throwing it off.

‘I don’t feel like arguing with you, so let’s have a conversation instead. Say what you want to say, y/n,’ he prompts calmly, and I take a deep breath before speaking, knowing he’s right about having a conversation instead of an argument.

‘We came on this holiday to reconnect and spend uninterrupted time together. I wake up at 3am on our first day to find you gone, and you don’t come back ‘til 4am of day two. Do you understand why I’m annoyed?’

‘Yes, baby, I understand why you’re annoyed. But my staff knew we were coming here, and they sent me the information for a… for some business in the area,’ he says, purposely being vague because he knows I don’t like knowing the details of his dealings.

‘You didn’t have to go. You’re the boss; you don’t follow orders from your staff,’ I say, knowing I sound a little whiny, and he chuckles.

‘And I wouldn’t be the boss if I turned down jobs, y/n. I got where I am by taking every possible opportunity to make money. If I turned down jobs, doll, we wouldn’t even be on holiday right now,’ he points out, looking at me with raised eyebrows, and I pout, refusing to look back at him as I take another sip of my drink.

‘A call. A text. A note. Something to tell me where you were, and a couple updates wouldn’t have killed you, Hoseok. You were gone for over 24 hours,’ I say, and he chuckles.

‘Don’t go giving me that silly ‘I was worried about you’ routine, because you’ve never worried before. You know there’s nothing to be worried about,’ he says, annoyingly laidback and cocky, but he’s right.

He’s an expert, and he knows what he’s doing, having never once given me a reason to worry about him.

Whenever he comes home with blood on his clothes, there are no wounds to match.

It may have taken me slightly longer than I’d like to admit to realise that it was because the blood wasn’t his. ‘I wasn’t going to give you that routine. But if you’re planning on disappearing for over a day, at least let me know where you’ve gone,’ I reply sharply, and he’s silent, knowing I’m right.

‘I’m sorry, y/n. I thought you would’ve enjoyed it. Being alone for over a day in a fully equipped private villa in a foreign country with beautiful weather,’ he says gently, and I let out a laugh.

‘Hardly alone. I’ve had your staff bringing me food, watching me on the CCTV – don’t even deny it, I know you get them to keep an eye on me – and I spotted more of your staff patrolling around the house during the night,’ I say pointedly, and he lets out a gentle laugh.

‘You might not worry about me, baby, but you know I worry about you. If anything ever happened to you, I wouldn’t forgive myself. My priority is your safety,’ he says and, despite my annoyance with him, I feel my heart warming.

‘I understand that, Hoseok, but it’d be nice if it was you making sure I’m safe. By being here. With me,’ I say softly, and he nods, holding my hand up to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to my skin.

‘I’m sorry, baby. What do you want me to say?’ he asks, words calm and genuine, never confrontational and defensive.

‘I want you to say that you’ll stay with me for the rest of the time we’re here. No more business from your staff,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow, sighing.

‘y/n, you know I can’t make promises like that. You knew that when you started dating me and you still knew that when you married me. But… I can make you one promise. If I have to go, I’ll tell you when and where I’m going, I’ll keep you updated, and I’ll come back as quickly as I possibly can,’ he says, and I can’t hold back the way my lips curl up at the corners at how he’s trying.

‘Okay. That sounds good,’ I smile, and he lets out a gentle chuckle, no doubt amused at how quickly I’m appeased.

‘I’m sorry, baby. I wish that my work didn’t mean me having to leave you,’ he begins, putting down his (empty) glass and pulling me onto his lap effortlessly, and I giggle as the cocktail sloshes in my glass at the movement, nearly spilling over the edges.

He takes the glass from me with a gentle smile and puts it down beside his, before he turns to look back at me, and I notice the way his pupils start to dilate, turning to look out at the sea to hide the blood rushing to my face at his gaze.

‘You know that, if I could, I’d spend every second of every day by your side, doll, but my work comes a close second to you in my life, which means that you also know that I can’t just refuse jobs,’ he says, arms holding me close to him and mouth moving against my bare shoulder.

‘Not only because of the money and because I need to pay my staff, but because I love my work,’ he says, his relaxed tone contrasting with the way his eager hands wander, one drawing patterns around my collarbones, the other subtly groping my breast.

He may be a big man with hundreds of staff beneath him and millions to his name, but to me, he’s still the boob-loving boy full of hope that I fell in love with.

‘Almost as much as I love you, baby,’ he says, and I can hear his smile in his voice, bringing a smile to my face too.

His fingers gently touch my chin, turning my head to face his, and when our eyes meet, I get that soft, warm feeling in my chest.

The feeling of falling in love with him all over again.

My eyes flutter shut and not even a moment later do I feel his hand curl around the back of my neck and pull me down to press our lips together.

Within seconds, the kiss becomes passionate and fiery, and I can feel that he’s missed me in the way he kisses me.

Our mouths move in sync, his tongue slipping between my lips and turning my brain into slush, the soft and pleasant pleasure of kissing him making my body numb all over.

‘Finish your drink,’ he says against my lips, and I ignore it for the moment, so caught up in the feeling of his lips of mine and his hands wandering around my body.

‘Baby. Finish your drink,’ he repeats, pulling away from me, cheeks glowing with a gentle blush and lips swollen.

‘Why? I’ve got… thirteen days to finish my drink,’ I joke, and he lets out a gentle chuckle.

‘I think it’d be more fun for us to spend some of those thirteen days in our room. So, maybe, if you finish your drink, we can head upstairs, and I can make my absence yesterday up to you,’ he smirks, and I gulp, my pants suddenly becoming a little… damp.

I reach for my drink, knocking it back as he chuckles, and then I look at the jug, still with four glasses worth in it.

‘Shall we just finish it off?’ I ask, and he raises an eyebrow at me as he reaches for the jug.

‘Okay, baby girl wants to get drunk, huh?’ he teases, pouring out another glass for me before he refills his own, both of us knocking back our drinks.

The more of it I drink, the more I can taste the agave beneath the orange and the pomegranate, and I know that, after having not eaten much today, I’ll be tipsy in no time.

He watches me amusedly as I hold my glass out to him again, a grin playing at his lips as he refills it, and I start gulping it down before he can even refill his own.

He knocks his back and practically snatches the glass out of my hand, putting both of our glasses down before he slides his arms under me.

He stands up, lifting me up bridal-style, and I shriek, giggling as he heads into the house.

The back of my black floral maxi dress trails along the floor and he’s careful not to step on it as he carries me up the stairs, both of us laughing, high on desire.

When we reach our bedroom, he kicks open the door and places me carefully on the bed, never throwing me around.

He’s only ever rough with his cock inside me.

The balcony doors are open, the white curtains flowing in the gentle breeze, the sky above still dark with stars, but the sky ahead beginning to lighten to a pale yellow that’s reflected in the sea, signalling the sunrise.

He crawls over me, pressing kisses to my neck as I run my hands through his soft hair, my dress splayed out around us.

‘You’re so beautiful, doll. In this sexy dress. Can see your pretty tits through it,’ he mumbles against my skin as he begins marking me up, fingers toying with my nipples through the material, sending gentle waves of pleasure through me.

I can feel his hard-on against my thigh, and I reach down to palm him through his trousers, revelling in the way he lets out a choked breath against my collarbones.

‘Fuck, baby girl, let me….’ he begins, trailing off as I tilt my head to press a kiss to his lips, his tongue instantly delving into my mouth.

The taste of Tequila Sunrise dances across my taste buds as our mouths move together, his hands snaking around my waist as I rest mine on either side of his face.

It’s not long before I start grinding against him, letting out little whimpers, my pants embarrassingly damp at this point.

‘Let me… let me help you out, baby,’ he says breathlessly, breaking away from me, before moving further down the bed as I move further up.

He moves my dress so that he has access to the area between my legs through the thigh slit in the material, before reaching up and pulling the neckline down, my breasts spilling out of the material.

With a smirk, he rips my pants off, throwing the flimsy material over his shoulder, my glistening core on show to him, and he lets out a gentle chuckle.

‘Oh, baby, you’re soaked. Did you really miss me that much? Did you touch yourself, doll?’ he asks, looking me in the eye, and I shake my head honestly, biting my lip at the feeling of the cool air on my bare heat.

‘God, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you, baby girl?’ he asks, eyes now focused between my legs, and I nod with a gentle little whine, wanting him to do something.

He lets out a gentle chuckle, looking up at me with hooded eyes as his hands start to travel up my legs, moving my dress further out of the way.

‘What do you want, baby? Use your words,’ he prompts, hands stilling at the tops of my legs, and I shiver when a sudden puff of wind travels through the room, ruffling his hair and hitting my core.

‘Your fingers, your mouth, your cock, anything, babe, please,’ I whine, hearing the desperation in my own voice, and he laughs, the air he expels hitting the area between my legs, prompting another whimper from me.

‘How about in that order then? My fingers, then my mouth, and then my cock?’ he asks, and I nod, his words causing another gush of arousal between my legs. ‘

Yes, god, yes. Please, Hobi, just touch me. Need you, need you so bad,’ I beg, and he seems to take pity on me, obviously sensing how desperate I am for him.

He parts my folds, the ministration making my body jolt, before he gently works one finger into me.

‘Oh, oh, god, Hobi,’ I moan out at the slight stimulation, clenching around him uncontrollably.

‘Fuck, baby, stop clenching, you’ll break my finger. Can I add another?’ he asks, and I take a deep breath, nodding fervently.

‘Please,’ I whine, and he wastes no time pushing another finger into me, the feeling making my back arch off the bed as a gentle whimper escapes from between my lips.

He gives me a few seconds to adjust before he starts gently rocking his hand, his fingers very slightly moving inside me, and I let out a whisper of his name.

‘So sensitive, doll. You can’t stop clenching. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill you up with my cock,’ he mumbles, eyes focused on the way his fingers disappear between my folds, and his words cause another moan to escape from my mouth.

He knows my body so well, knowing when he can increase his pace, gradually doing so until his fingers are pumping in and out of me rapidly, moans frequently falling from between my lips, my fingers gently clutching onto his soft fluffy locks.

When he adds another finger, my breath hitches in my throat, hands tugging on his hair, and he lets out a groan at the feeling, having a very slight pain kink that he (usually) manages to hide quite well.

He starts to rub at my clit with his thumb as his fingers pump into me, and it’s not long before I’m on the precipice of my climax.

And he knows that, which is why he removes his fingers, prompting me to let out a frustrated whine.

‘Don’t be bratty, or I’ll have to punish you, and then you’ll have to wait even longer before I let you cum,’ he warns, and I can’t stop myself from letting out another whine.

‘But, Hobi, please. I need to cum,’ I breathe out pathetically, and he raises an eyebrow at me, jaw clenched.

‘Come on, baby, don’t be a brat. You were being so good for me before, don’t spoil it,’ he says, sitting up, and it’s like I want to push him, want him to punish me.

‘But it hurts, Hobi,’ I whisper pitifully, and his eyes darken.

‘Fine. I gave you two chances, but you still want to be a brat. So now you can choke on my cock instead of having it stuffed into your little pussy. And it’s Sir to you now,’ he spits out, getting up off the bed.

‘Get up,’ he instructs, and I decide not to push him any further, climbing off the bed and watching as he lies down amongst the messy sheets and cushions, slowly pulling his shirt up slightly and unbuttoning his trousers, pushing them down to the tops of his thighs along with his boxers.

His rock-hard length springs up to hit his stomach, head swollen, red and leaking with precum.

‘Come here,’ he says with a tilt of his head, and I climb back onto the bed.

‘Ass up here,’ he instructs, and I throw a leg over him so that my ass, covered by my dress, is in front of his face and my face is centimetres from his dick.

‘Suck, you dirty little brat,’ he says, and I support myself on my forearms, breasts pressed against his stomach as I spit on my hands and run them up and down his cock, preparing him.

I take his head into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the tip and tasting his precum, and he pushes my head further down, making me supress a gag as he holds me in place.

My nose is practically pressed up against his balls, his cock pushing down my throat, and I try to take measured breaths through my nose as he continues to hold me where I am.

He then grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me off his cock, allowing me to clear my throat before prompting me to take him back in and, when I do, I instantly begin to bob my head up and down.

‘That’s a good girl. Go as deep as you can, baby,’ he instructs, one hand still holding my hair in a tight grip as he gathers my dress up to reveal my ass and pussy to him.

‘Look at this pretty ass. Can’t wait to leave hand-shaped bruises on it. Count,’ he commands, before his hand comes down harshly onto my ass.

‘One,’ I attempt to say with his cock in my mouth, the word coming out garbled and nonsensical.

He lands slap after slap onto my ass, hand still pulling my hair tightly as I’m trying my hardest to count whilst bobbing up and down his dick, and he stops when I reach ten.

‘Fuck, you’re such a good girl,’ he breathes out, letting go of my hair as his hands gently rub my ass to soothe my sore cheeks, and I hum against his cock, his hips bucking up at the feeling.

I cup his balls in my hand, and I can feel him nearing his orgasm, his hips beginning to buck up, causing him to fuck my mouth.

‘Fuck, love it when you let me fuck your mouth like a good little slut. Love it when you choke on me, doll,’ he grunts out, his thrusting obviously taking a lot of effort.

I stay still, allowing him to do as he pleases as I play with his balls, until he reaches down and puts his hands on my shoulders, pulling me up and off him.

‘I don’t wanna cum in your mouth, baby, I wanna cum in this tight little pussy. But.. I believe I promised you my mouth,’ he says, and I try not to move, knowing I need to wait for instructions from him.

‘You wanna sit on my face, doll?’ he asks, and I nod eagerly, looking over my shoulder at him.

‘Yes, sir, please,’ I reply, and he smirks with an amused chuckle, moving to lie down.

‘Come on,’ he says, and I move so that I hover above him, hands gripping onto the headboard as he wraps his arms around my thighs, pulling me down so that I’m practically sat on his face.

He doesn’t even give me a moment to prepare before he licks a bold stripe across my slit, making my whole body quiver above him.

‘Fuck, you taste so sweet, baby. So good, could eat your pussy all day,’ he says against my core, the vibrations making me whimper.

He starts relatively slow, tongue circling my clit before lapping up my slick and poking between my folds gently.

And then it’s not long before he loses his self-control, abusing my heat with his tongue, hands holding me in a bruisingly tight grip as I squirm above him.

‘Please, please,’ I moan, again and again, and I can see the amusement in his eyes as he breathes against my folds, his tongue circling my clit again and again.

‘Please, what? Words, baby,’ he says against my folds, making me jolt forwards, my face contorted with pleasure as he continues his attack on my pussy.

‘More, Sir, more. Need- ah, oh, fuck… need to cum,’ I force out between moans, face contorted in pleasure, and he lets out a gentle chuckle.

‘My little slut wants to cum?’ he asks, words dripping with amusement, and I nod, mouth open in a silent moan as the waves of pleasure roll over me.

He practically begins to make out with my pussy, lips moving against my folds as his tongue continues to push between my folds.

And then he decided to torture me further, mouth moving to suck at my clit as he pushes two fingers into me, curling them inside me.

‘Sir, fuck, feels so good, need… need to c-’ I moan out, my words cut off when his fingers scrape against the spongy spot inside me.

‘Then cum, doll,’ he prompts, pushing me over the edge when he curls his fingers and gently nips at my bundle of nerves, my orgasm washing over me.

My body convulses as he holds me in place, a drawn-out moan falling from my lips as he continues sucking at my clit and pumping his fingers into me in order to prolong my high, cumming on his tongue and feeling him lick up my release.

Once he senses me coming down, he gently flips us over so that I lie among the sheets and he pulls off his shirt, exposing expanses of beautiful golden skin pulled over hard muscle, before moving to hover over me.

‘You need time, baby?’ he asks, concern mixing with the desire in his eyes, and I nod, taking a deep breath.

‘Colour?’ he questions.

‘Green,’ I reply breathlessly, and he chuckles, the concern in his face disappearing.

‘So you don’t need time,’ he smirks, pushing into me with no warning.

I let out a loud moan at the feeling of him filling me up and he curses under his breath as I clench uncontrollably around him, my walls squeezing against his cock almost uncomfortably.

He doesn’t bother giving me time to adjust, just pulls all the way out of me, and slams back in, making me moan out, my back arching up from the bed, his face buried between my breasts.

‘As much as I love a face full of tits, I need you to stay still, baby,’ he says, voice strained as he continues slamming into me, our hips meeting every time he fills me up.

‘Fuck, more, Sir, more, please,’ I beg, and he chuckles as I wrap my legs around his waist, digging my nails into his back.

‘More? You wanted some time a minute ago, and now you want more?’ he asks, and I nod, leaning up to capture his lips in a kiss, tasting the sweet cocktail mixed with my own arousal on his tongue.

He moans into my mouth as I clench around him, and he speeds up even more, the headboard beginning to hit the wall as he pounds into me, balls slapping against my ass.

‘You feel so good around me, god, baby, so good. No one has pussy like yours. I’d fuck you all day if I could,’ he groans against my lips, and I grin at the praise, loving it when he compliments me.

‘Let me hear your pretty moans, baby,’ he prompts as he bends one of my legs between us, the new angle allowing him to go deeper, hitting the spot inside me that has my eyes rolling back and my back arching up into him.

‘Love your cock, Sir, love it when you fuck me rough. Just want you filling me up all the time,’ I moan out, the leg that’s still around him pulling him closer to me as I rake my nails down his back at the pleasure, loving the moan of my name that falls from his lips.

‘You love it rough, huh, doll?’ he growls, one hand coming to rest at the base of my neck, his rings providing some cool relief against my burning skin, and I sigh blissfully at the feeling of his thick cock stretching me out and filling me completely, awaiting his hand tightening around my neck.

And when it does, slightly cutting off my airways, I let out a loud moan, my breathing quickly becoming laboured.

My head whirls at the pleasure he’s providing me, and I can feel myself slowly nearing the edge.

‘I’m gonna…’ I force out before trailing off, unable to speak as his thrusts become more drawn out and forceful, his tip dragging against the spongy spot inside me.

‘You gonna cum, baby?’ he asks, and I nod as he smirks before ducking his head to suck one of my nipples, his hand still lightly gripping my neck.

‘Hold it,’ he says, my nipple still in his mouth, and I let out a loud frustrated moan when his thrusts slow down.

‘Sir, please,’ I moan, voice hoarse, my eyes beginning to fill with tears as he slowly rocks into me, lips mouthing over my nipple.

‘Beg. I love hearing my dirty little slut beg for me. Love hearing you beg whilst my cock’s buried in this tight little pussy. Who’s pussy is this, baby?’ he asks, mouth moving to the other nipple, and I whimper as my fingers tangle into his hair.

‘Yours, Sir, only yours,’ I force out as it becomes harder and harder to breathe, the lack of air making my head light and intensifying the pleasure.

‘It’s mine, is it, doll? If I own this pussy, I own your orgasms. So you better fucking beg me to let you have one,’ he spits out against my breast, hips still slowly rocking back and forth as his hand around my neck loosens slightly to let me speak.

‘Please, Sir, let me cum. Been so desperate for your cock, can’t hold it. Feels so good, no one can ever fuck me better than you. Only want your cock. Please let me cum, Sir, your cock’s too good, I can’t hold it,’ I moan, the words coming out without thought, and he groans.

‘Fuck, you’re so hot. Cum then,’ he says teasingly, without increasing his pace at all, and I whine.

‘Sir, I need… I need more,’ I whimper, and he chuckles.

‘Be specific, y/n. What do you mean by ‘more’?’ he asks, still with the same teasing tone.

‘Faster,’ I breathe out, feeling him instantly increase his pace.

‘H… harder,’ I whisper, and he practically begins pounding into me, the bed creaking embarrassingly loud.

‘Rub… rub me,’ I plead, and he chuckles, before one of his hands slowly trails down between our bodies, his fingers gently rubbing at my clit.

‘Ch- fuck, oh god. Choke… choke me,’ I manage to breathe out, and he groans, ‘so sexy,’ under his breath before his hand tightens at my neck again.

‘Talk,’ I mumble, and he chuckles, eyes darkening as he continues to fuck me, harsh and rough.

‘You want me to talk? What shall I say, baby? You want me to say how good your tight little pussy feels around me, especially when you clench?’ he spits out, making my walls flutter around him frantically, and he grins darkly.

‘You want to say I love how submissive and good you are for me, how innocent you look with your big eyes when I wrap my hand around your throat?’ he says, tightening his grip on my neck again, the lack of air making me light-headed, my vision blurring with tears.

‘You want me to say that I love it when your tits bounce against my chest, and that I love sucking on your nipples?’ he grunts, his hand momentarily abandoning my clit to gently slap at my breasts before squeezing them roughly.

‘You want me to say how much I fucking love it when your eyes roll back into your head and when you look so fucked out because of how good my cock makes you feel?’ he asks, pulling all the way out to slam back into me, and my eyes roll back, a laugh falling from between his lips at how predictable I am.

‘Or would you rather I beg you to cum all over my cock and soak it like a good little slut for me? How about that?’ he asks softly, before he begins his attack on my body.

His fingers roughly rub figure-eights on my clit, cock pounding into me almost painfully and hand tightening to almost completely cut off my breathing.

Almost instantly, I feel my orgasm wash over me, and I scream out, tears spilling down my face as overwhelming waves of pleasure flow through me.

He fucks me through my orgasm, continuing to rub at my clit and grip my throat as my release practically gushes out of me with each thrust, soaking the bed and both of our thighs.

Once I’m beginning to come down, his hands move to press into the bed on either side of my head, and he begins fucking into me with renewed vigour, the overstimulation making me sob.

‘Fuck, fuck, so sexy when you cry for me, doll. I don’t know whether it’s because you’re sensitive, or whether you just love my cock that much. Both, right? My baby loves being a little slut, but can’t handle it, huh? I’ll make sure you handle it, baby,’ he grunts, continuing to fuck me, and I know he won’t stop until he cums.

‘Take my cock, baby, fucking take it,’ he spits out, thrusting so hard I’m worried one of us will get injured.

The thought soon disappears from my head, the intense and painful pleasure rendering my mind blank.

‘Look at you, doll, such a good fucking slut for me. Letting me overstimulate you without complaining. Fucking love it when you’re like this. All messy and tired and dumb for me,’ he grunts, and I know I need to help him cum, or he’ll probably bruise my cervix.

Despite being so fucked out that I can barely think straight and having eyes streaming with tears, I have enough sense to reach down to cup his balls, and he lets out shaky breaths at the feeling.

‘Give me your hand, baby,’ I breathe out, and he balances all his weight on one hand, holding his other out to me, continuing to fuck me as I place his hand over my lower stomach.

‘You feel that? Can you feel your big, thick cock through my stomach? That’s how good you fill me up, baby,’ I say, knowing that his cock is protruding obscenely, and he moans at the fact that he’s managing to do this to me, throwing his head back out of pleasure.

‘Come on, baby, cum for me. Want your cum,’ I whisper into his ear as I wrap an arm around his back to pull him closer down to me.

‘Where, baby?’ he breathes out as I press kisses to his jaw and cheek, caressing his shoulders and neck and gently scraping my nails on his scalp.

‘Well, I’d say my tits, but you can’t ruin the pretty dress you bought me. And I’d say my face, but I put on some pretty makeup especially for you – love looking pretty for my baby boy. So how about you just cum inside?’ I ask, taking control, and he’s so desperate to cum that he doesn’t even put me back in my place.

‘Inside? Are you sure?’ he asks, voice strained, and I nod as his thrusts start to become a little uneven.

‘Want you to fill me up with your cum, baby boy, love it when you leave me dripping with your cum. Want your baby. Hmm, how does that sound? You wanna fuck a baby into me? Fill me up with you cum, baby boy, so deep that I can’t possibly not be pregnant,’ I whisper into his ear, knowing he loves it when I do so – he called me a sexy little vixen last time, and I can’t say I object to the name.

‘Fuck, fuck, wanna… wanna fill you up, wanna fuck a baby into you,’ he moans out, my heart fluttering at the momentary break in his dominant disposition.

‘Cum, baby boy, dirty up my pussy with your cum and give me your baby,’ I whisper, completely focused on his pleasure rather than my own.

His hips stutter, cock twitching inside me, and I take the chance to wrap both of my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his lower back to hold him in place as I play with his balls.

But the final straw for him is when I slip my hand beneath his on the sheets and intertwine our fingers together, the movement full of my love for him.

‘Fuck, y/n, feels so good,’ he chokes out, head buried in my neck as he reaches his high, thick spurts of his hot cum hitting my walls.

I continue grinding into him to prolong his orgasm, and his body falls limp after a few moments, his entire body weight resting on mine. I feel my high (that was beginning to approach) diminish rapidly, but I don’t care – as long as he feels good, I’m happy.

‘God, that… was intense,’ he mumbles against my chest, cock still buried inside me, and I smile to myself, playing with his hair.

‘Just a bit. I can’t believe you let me dom. Even if it was for, like, a minute,’ I say, and he laughs, breath hitting my bare skin.

‘Pussy so good, it turns me into a sub,’ he jokes, and I laugh, feeling him chuckle.

‘Let me… let me get you off,’ he says, moving off me, and I shudder at the feeling of his cock falling out of me.

‘No, it’s okay. I don’t know if I can handle it,’ I say jokingly, though I mean it – he’s given me such a good fucking, I don’t know if I’ll even be able to walk straight.

‘I’m not asking you, baby. I’m not done with you yet,’ he says with a dark grin, and it’s as though he’s regained all of his energy.

‘Hobi, I can’t take any more,’ I sigh, and he ignores my protests as he settles between my legs, moving my dress out of the way.

‘But you’re being so so good for me, doll. You’ve been handling it so well,’ he says, eyes fixed on the way his cum gently drips out of my abused pussy.

He begins leaving open-mouthed kisses up my thighs before he collects up his cum that’s dripped out of me, rubbing it back into my clit before gently pushing a finger between my folds.

‘No, Hobi, please, I can’t,’ I whine, the overstimulation too much as pumps in and out of me slowly.

‘Colour?’ he asks, and I sigh, knowing I should answer truthfully, before I say, ‘green.’

‘So you can, and you will,’ he says, and I whine again as he adds another long finger, scraping against my walls.

‘Listen to me, baby. I’m gonna eat your sweet little pussy until I’ve had enough, and you’re going to cum on my tongue as many times as it takes for me to be satisfied. Because I own this pussy, and I will do with it what I please. Understand?’ he asks, voice sounding slightly harsher, and I nod as his eyes meet mine, which are already beginning to fill with tears.

‘Yes, Hobi,’ I say submissively, and he grins, wasting no time before he licks a bold stripe across my heat, his fingers continuing to pump into me.

‘Ah, fuck, Hobi,’ I moan as the pain of overstimulation begins to ebb away into pleasure, the feeling of his mouth and fingers quickly bringing me ecstasy.

And then his fingers disappear, quickly being replaced by his tongue dipping between my folds and licking up his own cum that begins to gush out of me.

‘God, you taste so fucking good with my cum dripping out of you, baby. Best thing I’ve ever tasted,’ he mumbles against my heat, and I throw my head back in pleasure as my back arches, tears beginning to spill from my eyes.

He laps at my core like he hasn’t eaten for days, moans and whimpers falling frequently from my lips.

My fingers tangle into his soft, silky locks, pulling him as close as possible, my legs wrapped around his shoulders, heels digging into his upper back.

I can feel his eyes on me, watching as he works wonders at my core, my orgasm beginning to approach.

‘Fuck, more, Hobi, please,’ I whine, and I feel his lips curl up into a grin against me.

‘A few minutes ago, you didn’t want any more, and now you’re moaning for more, begging for more, like a dirty little slut,’ he chuckles, before pushing three fingers into me, making me cry out.

‘Yes, Hobi, god, yes! Feels so fucking good,’ I cry, tears streaming down my face, and he pumps his fingers into me rapidly before he begins sucking at my clit.

‘Look at you crying. Do I make you feel that good that you cry, huh, baby? Look so fucking sexy when you cry,’ he says teasingly against my clit, and I let out a loud sob, his ministrations feeling absolutely euphoric.

‘I’m gon- fuck! Hobi, I’m gonna cum,’ I moan, and he speeds up even more, my head whirling at the blissful feeling.

‘Come on, baby, fucking cum for me,’ he says, his fingers disappearing and quickly being replaced with his mouth.

His tongue dips between my folds as his lips furiously tug at my folds, before he begins alternating his tongue and fingers.

Both his digits and his muscle dip in and out of my folds, my moans getting louder and louder, and when his nose nudges at my clit, my mouth falls open in a silent scream.

‘Come on, y/n, cum for me, baby girl,’ he prompts against my clit, fingers continuing to abuse my pussy, and I feel myself beginning to come undone.

I scream out his name as my orgasm washes over me, body convulsing beneath him, and he prolongs my high by continuing to rock his fingers into me and lap at my clit gently, holding me in place.

Once I begin to come down, he removes his fingers and licks them clean, watching me with an affectionate smile as my thighs twitch with the aftershocks of my orgasm.

‘You did so well for me, baby, so well,’ he praises, as he climbs off the bed, pulling his boxers and trousers up, buttoning up as he disappears into our bathroom, coming back with a towel.

He gently cleans me up before helping me to sit up and handing me the bottle of water sat on the bedside table.

‘Drink it all. I’ll go get more from downstairs,’ he says with a smile, and I chug down the water as he disappears from the room.

I look out of the balcony doors to see that the sky is streaked with beautiful pastel colours, the sun peeking up from the ocean in an orange half-circle.

When he comes back, I’ve adjusted my dress (so that my tits aren’t out) and am sat against the headboard, and I laugh when I spot to jug of Tequila Sunrise in his hand with two glasses.

‘I thought we could have some more. Who say we can’t get morning drunk?’ he grins as he pours us out a glass each, handing me mine with a kiss to my lips.

He comes to sit beside me and puts an arm around me, and I instinctively curl into him, throwing my legs over his.

‘Did I push you too hard, baby?’ he asks, and I shake my head instantly.

‘It was great, baby, perfect. But I’ll probably need a nap soon,’ I say, already feeling a little sleepy, and he laughs.

‘That’s okay. You can nap, because we’ll still have twelve days to do whatever we want,’ he says with a gentle kiss to the top of my head, and I smile contentedly.

‘As long as you don’t leave me for work,’ I joke, and he chuckles softly.

‘I’ll try my best, baby,’ he replies, voice gently, and I smile to myself as I take a sip from my glass, both of us falling silent as we watch the sun rise.

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thegrandkinghimself · 3 years

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who is oikawa tooru?

i guess that’s a weird way to start off a post, considering just how popular oikawa is in this fandom. i’m absolutely certain that he’s still one of the most popular characters if i can take the #oikawasear trend on twitter a couple of weeks ago seriously. (i will be mourning that iwaoi is no longer the top ship in this fandom. it’s devastating to me on a personal level). and i can’t say that i’m any different, either, otherwise i wouldn’t have made this blog or this post. but i guess the reason i’ve been itching to write this is because i’ve been in this fandom--and more specifically, a fan of oikawa--for about four or five years now. i devour the content available, and i can assure you that i’ve read too many of the fanfictions on ao3 to be healthy, and never before have i seen a character whose characterization is so hotly disputed.

and i get it. he’s a complex person. he’s kind of awkward in that there is a very clear disconnect between his outward personality and who he is alone. it’s a very hard balance to strike, especially when you consider just how much conjecture goes on in his characterization among fans and in discourse. he’s really easy to project and certain traits, correct or otherwise, are amplified based off how authors perceive him. there’s plenty of presumptions that can be made based on his on-screen actions/thoughts/beliefs that can be taken to some very logical conclusions.

but i’ve also seen people write him in ways that don’t strike me as particularly truthful. he’s type casted into stereotypes that don’t do him justice, or made into something that is vaguely like oikawa, but not quite. in the following post, i’ll be trying to dispel misunderstandings of his character, if only for my own sanity.

tl;dr i think that oikawa is chronically one of the most misrepresented characters in fandom and i want to fix that

exclaimer: i am solely an anime-watcher; i have seen snippets of the manga and therefore have a general idea of what is going on.

let’s establish some very very basic stuff. just to keep it simple, i’m not going to talk about anything beyond what has been published via the anime (as of season four).

Oikawa Tooru | 及川徹

gender: male

d.o.b.: 1994.7.20. or 20 July, 1994

height: 184.3 cm

weight: 72.2 kg

occupation: high school 3rd year, class 6

position/number: setter, 1 (captain)

here’s something that’s never pointed out: oikawa is in class 6 which, if we go off the trend of every other school in haikyuu!!, means that he is in a college preparatory class aka he’s pretty dang smart. it’s not confirmed or anything, but it a. follows the trend of every other class 6 student and b. is the highest class available among seijoh 3rd years (classes 5, 3, and 1). don’t get the idea that he’s dumb or unintelligent, or even that his strengths only lie in the classroom because that would be a gross understatement of his skills.

anywho.

generally speaking, i like to start with the building blocks of his personality because there’s so much room for assumptions. here are the things that i think make up his core personality:

intelligence/knowledgeable: not only academically speaking, but he’s also well-versed in people. he knows how to play them--what will make someone more confident, more doubtful, what will help his teammates succeed. clearly, oikawa is very knowledgeable in human thought patterns. or he’s dedicated a lot of time to knowing them.

loyalty: of all of oikawa’s traits, i think this one gets talked about the least, but we know it to be true. we make jokes about “you should have come to shiratorizawa” but it really shows you exactly how loyal, how much trust, oikawa has in this team that he has spent three years shaping. he never stops believing in the work that he has put in, and especially the hard work that his teammates have put into their volleyball.

hardworking: one of the most well-known things about oikawa. most fans already know that his white knee pad is actually a knee brace. ‘nuff said. i salute you, good sir.

insecurity: oikawa’s insecurities are perhaps his most notable trait. in a sense, he’s sort of the underdog--so good, but never quite good enough to accomplish what he’s set out to do. and we know that he’s struggled with his doubts since junior high, literally since he was 12 or 13, and that’s informed all of his character from the moment he ran into ushijima. oikawa is someone who is defined by his insecurities.

oikawa is a lot of things. he’s introduced as someone who is very flamboyant--he’s built up by kageyama as the best setter, his senpai literally and figuratively, his initial shots are all of smug smiles and easy, unfaltering swagger in the face of this new team. even his theme, all rambunctious brass and jazzy, is meant to be all in your face, here’s the big boss! he’s someone who is petty and silly and seems to favor shallow conversation. but he’s oikawa, so there’s a surprising amount of depth in the little time that we have with him. there’s a reason that, in any other franchise, he’d probably be the protagonist.

he is someone full of contradictions. he’s childish and he spends time with a bunch of girls and is very clearly someone who likes to project a certain image of himself to the public (see: his cute lil’ humming run after his yell in s4e23 to make him seem kind of normal). but he’s also spent a lot of time with himself. in fact, if we take the few scenes we have of him alone and his bedroom (bare, spartan, meticulous) into account, oikawa actually is much more solemn and/or serious than the image he projects. he’s comfortable in the silences between all the white noise. he’s alright just being with iwaizumi. he allows himself to dwell on the past and his shortcomings, while also looking forward to the future. his ambition and passion to improve drive him, but his past failures weigh him down. they haunt him.

personally, i think that he’s naturally a pretty silly guy when given the chance. it’s not just for show. iwaizumi would even corroborate this à la oikawa’s introduction speech in s1. he likes having fun when he can with his friends. if we assume that oikawa is most himself with iwaizumi, then we definitely know that’s the case (see: “are you my mom, iwa-chan?”), and there’s nothing wrong with that. but i think that the most basic traits of his character, combined with his experiences in volleyball, have pushed him to be this person who is mired in doubt. it’s forced him to go down a path where something that he once loved for the fun of it has now become the source of his ire. it’s really just that simple. maybe in another life, things would be different and oikawa wouldn’t have to struggle as much. but that’s really just a part of the human experience, isn’t it? and, in all honesty, would we really love oikawa as much without all his vices?

and maybe this is getting into speculation, but i don’t think it’s a difficult argument to make that oikawa is really mature. he’s introspective. i say introspective because the revelations that he’s had in regards to his own strengths and weaknesses--those are things he’s had to confront and deal with since he was in junior high (starts at 12 years of age). it takes someone with a lot of maturity and self-awareness to realize those kinds of things about himself.

and he’s stronger than he gets credit for. most people depict him as a crybaby, but he’s really not. he doesn’t cry or give up in the face of ushijima or kageyama’s unfettered growth and successes, he doesn’t cry when faced with defeat. oikawa is there to support iwaizumi in his own doubt as ace, and lend support to his teammates. and oikawa doesn’t get stuck on the what-ifs or has-beens. driven by his infamous ambition, he looks forward to the future.

it’s kind of a double-edged sword. it’s pushed him this far--he’s put in this much effort to be one of the best in the prefecture--because of his competitive spirit, but it’s also something that has caused him serious injury. oikawa’s motto (”if you’re gonna to hit it, hit it until it breaks!”) is the very epitome of this mentality. it’s a message to work hard to finish what you started, but i also think that you could interpret that hard work breaking you, too. he’s steadfast—obsessive, really—to the point that oikawa will let his passions break him before he would ever give up. it’s the point of all the strife in his life, because he would never have the problems he does if he were even a little less enamored by this sport.

and you really have to wonder where he would be without ushijima and kageyama as his obstacles. his drive will always be there, that is an intrinsic part of him, as are the standards to which he holds himself, but you really have to wonder just how good oikawa would be if he didn’t have such direct competitors. this is an incredibly important question to ask about kageyama and oikawa in particular. yes, oikawa does loathe ushijima: for his disregard for oikawa’s decisions, for his disregard of oikawa’s loyalty, for his flippant attitude of seijoh, who oikawa has poured his blood and sweat into creating. but ushijima is an opposite hitter. oikawa is a setter. those are two very different positions with little crossover. but with kageyama--that is a clear rivalry. they push each other to be better, made all the more potent by their differences as players; one setter’s growth as a player directly impacts how the other performs in each subsequent game. seijoh’s defeat by karasuno in season 2 just feeds into oikawa’s drive for the future. he has not intention of giving up. a light was lit under him, pushing him forward, to do better, to be better.

this is something that has been pointed out in a different analysis (linked below) but, narratively speaking, oikawa is kageyama’s foil. their interactions inform their characters and are a major cause of tension in their development. their relationship is really the most complex in the story that i have noticed, and is something that has not been appreciated enough. the iwaizumi-oikawa thing has been expounded and studied in every facet possible (i love the alexander the great/hephaestion allusions), but it’s true that kageyama has impacted oikawa the most. they begrudgingly respect each other’s talents, what it is that they bring to the court, while also envying what the other has in spades that they do not. in oikawa’s case, his strength clearly lies in his interpersonal relationships--his ability to intuit exactly what his teammates need to be at their best. kags is just a fount of overwhelming technical skill who has a really hard time getting to know those around him. living up to the standards that oikawa places on himself, in tandem with kageyama threatening his position as setter, leave oikawa floundering, fearing his own incompetence against opponents who are naturally much better than he. so he’s left with the knowledge that maybe his best isn’t good enough, but he still continues on anyway. he pushes himself past a seemingly unreachable threshold just to go toe-to-toe with this monster. it’s the purpose of his character--to tell this story of the ordinary v. the extraordinary--and it is perhaps the most relatable arc that a story like haikyuu!! can tell.

their connection naturally causes oikawa to seek out help, seen in the flashback scenes where he is talking to an unspecified coach/adult. that coach’s words then become the creed upon which oikawa plays, maybe even more than what iwaizumi has taught him, and is the final push that completes oikawa’s character arc in s2ep24. that change in mindset allows oikawa to see kageyama’s unbridled talent not as an obstacle but as a challenge. it’s very nuanced, but it makes all the difference. it’s why, following seijoh’s defeat, oikawa has the audacity to declare to kageyama and ushijima his plans for the future. in a sense, karasuno and kageyama and ushijima have won the battle but not the war. it’s the tipping point in his story and, more than anything, what makes oikawa so compelling. we have seen what has led up to the change, but now we want to know what he’s going to do to meet that challenge. what will he be doing beyond the story when he is no longer relevant to the narrative? we don’t know the details at this point, but we know that oikawa’s love and ambition for volleyball have been reaffirmed in this moment.

but to bring it back, the kags-oiks connection also makes us question what it is we are watching, makes us as the audience think: what qualifies someone as a genius? are there any limitations to what that genius can do? what can ordinary people do in the face of those geniuses?

these are questions that exist beyond the reality of sports and transverse into other disciplines. for me, those are very real questions that i have had to ask myself as a musician. i have dedicated nine, almost 10, years to my practice but there are still 10-year-olds who are just better at it than i ever will be. part of it is time and practice to be sure, but some of it is just innate. and i think the more appropriate version of those questions would be this: what qualifies someone as a prodigy? are there limitations for prodigies? what can we do in the face of prodigies?

oikawa is a genius player--he knows the ins-and-outs of his sport better than anyone, and he can accomplish great feats that others in his same position can’t. but even with all that veritable experience and skill, he is ultimately still overtaken by a prodigy whose talents seem endless. it’s why he can hate ushijima but fear kageyama. one is something he can actively fight against, the other is inevitable.

and really, i think that’s the beauty of oikawa tooru, why he’s so beloved by the fandom, even years after he has stopped being relevant to the narrative. beyond the fluff and goofiness and hijinks, there’s someone there who is really, truly, human.

an aside with much less significance/why do people think this??

so here’s one thing: even though oikawa has fangirls, i wonder what he actually thinks of them. for one, it’s only natural for anyone to be super flattered if people think you’re hot stuff. that’s just... i don’t think he’s weird if he pays attention to them. but i think that people are conflating his being kind to them to being genuinely egotistical due to the attention. actually, i think these are opposing ideas and a contradiction of who oikawa is. when you’re an arrogant person, you think that you deserve all the attention you’re getting and you’re not going to bother with the people who worship you.

but that’s not at all what oikawa does. he’s rather kind to his fans. i would never say that he’s self-effacing, but knowing what you’re worth is different from being pompous. and think about it. it’d be a real jerk move for oikawa to not say nice things to them and thank his fangirls when they spend time, energy, and effort to make him food and see his games. he would just be a genuinely awful person if he didn’t at least give them thanks. it’d be more alarming if he didn’t talk to them, at least in my opinion. more than anything, we should consider this: why is it that oikawa has the fan club and not anyone else on the seijoh team? i’m sure a part of it is because he’s attractive and the captain of a team, but i think it’s more than that, too. we see these interactions from other perspectives, but i think that reflects more on those around oikawa than oikawa himself if they don’t understand why he acts the way he does with those girls.

another thing: i don’t think that anyone can question that oikawa is very pretty, or handsome, or whatever descriptor you would like. it’s prevalent in fandom (see: pretty setters squad), but he is also the only person in canon to be acknowledged by other characters as being particularly good-looking. maybe the miyas count at this point? i’m not sure. but i don’t really understand where people get the idea that he is particularly focused on his appearance, though. there is literally no indication of that from the material that i have seen. and maybe he uses that to his advantage with his fangirls, but i highly doubt that, in all honesty. i think that it’s fun to imagine him being into these things as a hobby, but it irks me greatly when i see that people spend time saying that oikawa wakes up extra early just to fix his hair or slather on foundation/concealer just to look presentable.

he’s a teenaged boy who clearly has other things that worry him, he’s a full-time student, and volunteers to coach at lil tykes volleyball classroom in his free time. he wouldn’t have time to spend on his hair or makeup. and we even seen in the hanger tooru special that he even wakes up looking like that.

he is au naturale, my friends. and we even know how little he gives thought to his own body, if you take into account his knee brace. for oikawa, his body is merely the medium through which he can accomplish his goals. we even have evidence of this when we see oikawa up all night studying karasuno game play or via his knee brace. he doesn’t know how to stop or understand when enough is enough. he breaks himself if there’s no one to watch him.

also, just... how would makeup work, logistically speaking? i don’t wear makeup, but i’m thinking that foundation and concealer and hair product would be, um, really bad. like, it’d run down his face and stuff. also, it’d probably get into his eyes, too? seriously. i’m not against oikawa wearing makeup in the slightest cause he’d be even prettier, but we know that oikawa would absolutely not jeopardize his chances in any way.

thank you for reading this long-winded, probably awful look into my favorite character of all time. and i do mean that. he is my favorite character in all of media. which, like, says a lot when he’s competing against the casts of a:tla, call me by your name, and my actual favorite book, the song of achilles. after all of that, if you would like another (better) analysis of oikawa’s character, i suggest this reddit thread: https://www.reddit.com/r/haikyuu/comments/94irsi/character_analysis_16_oikawa_tooru_discussion/

#oikawa tooru #haikyuu #character analysis #i'm so sorry about this #i just had to get this off of my chest #thanks for coming to my ted talk

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hotforharrington · 5 years

Text

Goody Two Shoes (Pt.6/6)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing

Notes: This is it! The end of the series that brought me back to writing! Thank you all for the support of this series! I hope you all enjoy the ending :)

—

As you stood there you felt as though you were in a horrible nightmare. Between your best friend just going on that rant, Billy standing on your front porch in his normal attire, and your mother being present for all of it, everything felt as though it was falling apart. And you thought you’d just break into a million pieces and collapse with it.

You turned to look at your mother and said, “Please just give me a minute, Mom.”

“Fine.”

You could tell your mother was unhappy with this whole situation, and therefore you were surprised she allowed you to have this.

You grabbed Steve by the arm, pulled him out to the front porch, and closed the front door behind you all.

“Hey gorgeous.” Billy said with his eyes glued to you.

“Don’t get me started, Billy. What the hell do you think you’re doing here like this?”

“I just wanted to see you, princess.”

“Don’t act all innocent. I’m not stupid. I know you were jealous because Steve was spending time with me today and so you decided to cause a scene.”

Steve laughed and you turned to glare at him. “Shut up, Steve. You didn’t exactly make things better, spilling the beans about how Billy ‘fakes it’ for me and shit.”

The comedy of the situation faded away from him.

You continued, “Both of you are coming in here like tornados and stirring up so much trouble for me!”

“Well maybe it’s about time you got what was coming to you.” Steve said softly.

“Excuse me?” You responded.

“I mean I don’t know how Hargrove feels about it but it’s your last year of high school, so I think it’s about time you tell your parents what you want and stop taking their shit. And more importantly stop letting them treat the people you care about like shit just because they think you’re a princess that can’t be associated with anything other than the most perfect and pure royalty in the world.”

You looked from Steve to Billy.

Billy’s expression didn’t give any clues to what he was thinking before he spoke up, “As much as I hate to agree with Harrington, I think he’s got a point. I mean, you are my perfect princess so I can understand that you’re parents would want you to be treated like royalty, but what they need to see is that just because we aren’t perfect and don’t have straight A’s, doesn’t mean we’re incapable of being good to you. And they need to let you make your own decisions for your own happiness.”

Everything built up within you all at once. Tears were welling up in your eyes because you knew the two boys were right. And they were setting aside their differences to help you improve your situation and reinforce your happiness.

“You guys are right. Thank you.”

You looped your arms around Steve’s torso for a quick hug before letting go and turning towards Billy. You lifted your hands to drape them around his neck and he rested his hands at your waist. You leaned in and brushed your lips against his, causing your lips to spread into a smile.

“Ugh, all right, I don’t wanna see all that.” Steve said, disgusted.

You and Billy laughed, still interlocked in one another’s embrace. He leaned back in for another kiss and you met him halfway to connect your lips together.

Abruptly, the door flung open, and your mother stood their with a big frown across her face.

You were still tangled up in Billy, when she erupted from the household.

You, Billy, and Steve jumped at her presence. Your mom’s eyes were wide, her face red with anger. You mustered up all your courage, took a deep breath in, and said, “Mom. There are some things we need to talk about.”

“You’re right about that, young lady. Get in here. You two impertinent boys are corrupting my daughter and you both better be out of my sight within the next few minutes or I’m going to call the police for trespassing!” Your mother yelped.

“No, mom. I won’t let you treat them like that. They’re staying.”

“Excuse me?” She replied.

“I said they’re staying. These boys are the two most important people in the world to me. They both care about me beyond measure. And when I say they care about me, I mean they care about me! Not my grades, not the college I go to. They care about who I am as a person and what is going to make me happy. Mom, when was the last time you asked me about what I wanted out of my life? Do you even know anything about me?”

Your mother stood there with guilt spread all over her presence. She looked at the ground, ashamed.

“Do you even know what my favorite color is? My favorite book? My favorite band? My favorite food?” You continued.

Your mother had nothing to say.

After a moment of silence, you looked toward Steve. Instinctively, he spat out all the answers, “Yellow. To Kill a Mockingbird. Fleetwood Mac. French fries.”

“Mom, I love you. But you and dad both have to realize that there’s more to my life than my grades and Harvard. These guys know that because they took the time to get to know what was underneath all of that. I’ve slowly come to realize that these two know me better than my own parents. Just because they don’t dress to impress you all the time and you don’t think their manners are perfect, doesn’t say anything about the true content of their character. A few moments ago, you basically said Steve was a bad influence when in reality, a lot of the time Steve is the one that keeps me out of trouble! I’m so tired of trying so hard to be perfect to you and dad. I’m done with it. This is my last year of high school and after that I can do whatever I want with my life. Do you really want the last few months of me living under your roof to be filled with arguments and resentment?”

Your mother shook her head in embarrassment, squeaked out an “I’m sorry. To all of you.” And walked back inside the house.

You felt the tension release from your body and you let out a sigh of relief before turning around to face the boys.

First, Steve smiled at you and engulfed you in a giant hug, lifting you up goofily. He placed your feet back on the ground and squeezed you tighter. “I’m so proud of you, kid.” He whispered to you.

“Thanks... And I’m not a kid!” You laughed at him, pushing him away playfully.

Billy stood there awkwardly, and Steve said goodbye to you before leaving the porch and heading home.

You approached Billy with a look of adoration across your face. As soon as you were within reach, he pulled you into him.

“That was badass, princess.” He said to you.

You laughed and shook your head in response. You gave Billy a quick peck before saying, “I know you think you do, but you have nothing to worry about with Steve. We’re just friends. I’m really into you, B.”

“I really like you too, (Y/N).” He said with a sexy smile.

You arched up one eyebrow before saying suggestively, “You just like me?”

“Well...I mean... I guess...” Billy stumbled through his words.

You inched your face close to his, to where your lips were less than half an inch away from his, and whispered, “Je t’aime de tout mon coeur.”

“Well that was sexy,” Billy said before expressing his confusion, “What does it mean?” He said as you turned around.

You kissed up from his collarbone to his neck before reaching his ear and saying, “I love you with all my heart.”

Billy was flabbergasted and red in the face. He recollected himself before saying, “I... I love you too, princess.”

He crashed his lips onto yours, creating a passionate, hungry kiss.

You pulled away from him and softly said, “Sneak into my room at midnight, and we can see where another kiss like that could lead us.” You said with a wink before heading inside.

Let’s just say, that night you and Billy consummated your relationship with the most amazing, passionate, and unbelievable sex either of you had ever had. ;)

—

Epilogue // •a few months later•

After getting your parents on the same page as you, you felt for the first time you were able to think freely.

You were finally able to realize what you were passionate about and what would make you happiest. With this newfound freedom of thought, you discovered a love for fashion and designing.

It was a reality check for your parents for sure, as they decided before you were even out the womb that you’d go to Harvard and that you’d grow up to be a doctor or lawyer.

When you opened up your letter of acceptance to an internship for a fashion company in Paris, you were over the moon. Then you realized you’d have to leave all of your friends and family.

You told Steve first, and although he knew he’d miss you, he was more proud of you than anything. “If this is what’s going to make you happy, then I’m ecstatic for you!” He said.

But telling Steve wasn’t the hard part, it was telling Billy that you dreaded. You and Billy were more in love than ever, making it harder to tell him. You procrastinated and procrastinated until you couldn’t put it off anymore.

Billy snuck into your window like he did just about every night.

“Hey, princess.” He said when he laid eyes on you.

“Hey, B.” You said, holding the letter in your hands.

“Whatcha got there?” He asked, “A love letter for me?”

“Not exactly... Billy, there’s something I need to tell you...”

Billy sensed your uneasiness and said, “Woah, what’s going on baby girl?”

“It’s my acceptance letter.” You said vaguely.

“Acceptance letter? For Harvard? Don’t tell me you’re going to Harvard after everything...”

“No, no, it’s not for Harvard. Remember when I told you I applied for a fashion internship?”

“Yeah?”

“Well I got it.”

“You got in?! Princess, I am so proud of you! That’s amazing!” Billy was so happy for you. He came to pull you into his embrace, but stopped when he realized how cold you were being. “What’s wrong?”

You turned to lock eyes with him, your vision becoming blurry as tears began to form. Your voice cracked as you said, “It’s... it’s in Paris.”

“Like in Europe?” Billy asked.

You nodded your head meekly.

“Oh...” Billy’s heart began to shatter at the thought of not seeing you everyday. Hell, you may never see each other again.

Tears streamed down your face as you could see Billy’s demeanor change from his normal self, to the hurt one that stood before you now.

You were speechless. Even if you wanted to say words, you couldn’t squeak them out no matter how hard you tried.

As if you could read each other’s minds, you both lunged toward one another and fell into each other’s grasp. You squeezed onto him as if your life depended on it. He held you tighter as if it would make time stop and keep you there with him forever.

The tears continued to flow knowing that this good thing would be coming to an end.

“I’m not going to ask you to wait for me, Billy. But I will come back one day. I don’t want to leave you... but this is a huge opportunity...”

“I know, princess. I am so so proud of you. But I can’t deny that this hurts like hell.”

“Should I just stay?” You asked him.

“What? No. Why would you stay?”

You reached for his rough hands and held them in your dainty ones, caressing his palms with your fingers. Your voice was now in a whisper. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“That’s not a good enough reason. I’ll be okay, princess. You can’t pass up this opportunity just because of me. I won’t let you.”

Tears continued rolling down your face. He lifted a hand to caress your cheek and whispered, “Hey, shh, (Y/N), listen to me, princess... You’re gonna go and make a name for yourself and become some big fashion executive. Show your parents, show me, show Harrington, show the world what you’re made of. And then you can come back to me. Okay? Everything’s gonna be just fine. It’s gonna be more than fine, it’s gonna be amazing.”

You didn’t know if the words he said were to assure you, or to assure him, but it what probably both.

You pressed your lips against his. Your mouths slowly and passionately danced together.

—

The day you left came around all too fast.

Your heart was heavy. Your mind was racing.

Saying goodbye to Steve and your parents was rough.

You and Billy decided not to have a big dramatic goodbye. You both thought that would only make things worse. Instead, for your farewells, you each wrote the other a letter. You met up the evening before to have one last night together. Before he snuck out your window one last time, you both exchanged letters and that was it.

You sat at the airport, waiting to board your plane, when you decided to open up your letter from Billy.

Princess,

Saying goodbye was something I’d never thought we’d have to do... but here it goes...

I will always remember the first time I saw you in the school hallway, the very first time we kissed on the steps of that house party, the time we shared a cigarette outside the school gym. I’ll never forget telling Harrington after basketball that you were special and you weren’t going to be like the other girls. And, damn, was that the truest thing I’ve ever said. There are so many lovely memories in our short time together but the fact remains the memories are not enough to bind us for rest of our lives. I still have some hope deep in my heart that someday the love we’ve built will bring you back in my arms. Though I know things may never be the same but ... I will always love you... I’ll love you with my whole heart till the day I die. Forever and always, you’ll be my princess.

-B

—

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#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things preferences #steve stranger things

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suchplausibilities · 5 years

Note

supercorp + medieval au or theme park au 👀💕

Don’t think I don’t know this was a Trap to do a Merlin/Supergirl fusion bianca. I do. but i have too many feelings about both of them and am not prepared for the inevitable implosion of emotion when the combine.

SO. Since last time i went to a theme park I spent the entire time dizzy and nauseous and therefore have bad feelings, I’m counting on your kind heart to allow me to slightly alter the timeline, and instead of doing a medieval AU, doing a Renaissance AU. Cool? Cool.

This fic would be called Open to Interpretation*, and would be forever long because I am physically incapable of shutting up. Lemme outline it for you (or give you the entire plot of the first half of the story):

Kara D’Anversa, the youngest daughter of a peasant class woodworker (originally Kara Zolea, daughter of a prominent traveling merchant), is nearly twenty when she decides what her course in life should be. She’s always been a thinker; the type to spend swaths of time in the field near her family’s cottage, taking detailed notes about the insects and animals and vegetation to better understand the whys behind their design. The way their aesthetics play into their function fascinates her in a very unique way. Her parents and sister - thinkers themselves, though in different ways - are happy to indulge her passion in any way they can, as they’re very aware that the older she gets, the less freedom she’ll have to be vibrant and brilliant and herself. If this means that half of most meals consist of the meaning of the color patterns of certain types of insects, then so be it.

(For the record: Alex knows a lot about leaves, now. A lot.)

When Jeremiah begins to notice the sketches starting to accompany her notes, he gets an idea. Kara receives her first book on techniques for crafting paint and canvas when she’s fifteen. Within three years, she has a total of six books related to painting and artistry.

When Alex is nearly twenty-five, her parents begin to discuss marriage. They’ve been receiving offers for years - unusual for the peasant class, given that poorer families usually required the help of their children for a larger portion of their youth, which also had the advantage of helping fathers to scrape together bigger dowries - but have neglected to give them any attention at all, given her age, their need for assistance in crafting and running the shop, and their desire to delay the inevitable for as long as possible, after they noticed that, even though she put forth a brave face, the idea of having a husband made Alex noticeably distressed. Now, though, she’s beginning to get offers from families known to be both kind and financially secure, and they’re afraid that, given her age, waiting would mean risking both her happiness and her future. Alex is both understanding and miserable.

The night that Jeremiah and Eliza tell Alex that they’ve narrowed it down to two men, and will likely have a deal by the end of the week, Kara spends the entire night in Alex’s bed, comforting and crying and laughing and just talking. It’s nearly dawn when Alex tells her to go. At Kara’s confused questions, Alex finally smacks her lightly on the back of her head, and tells her to stop being dense. She’s been talking about exploring and painting different parts of the country, finally finding a person whose portrait she finds interesting enough to paint, and meeting famous artists and being tutored by them for literal years. It’s time to shut up about it and finally go do it.

Kara’s understandably taken aback by this - um, she’s a woman near marrying age living under the feudal system. How in the heck would she even manage that?? Alex gives her money she’s been saving since she was Kara’s age (her dad was kind enough to let her take a cut from some of the jobs they completed together), meant to be her back-up plan if her parents were strong-armed into accepting the one of the proposals from the various jerks asking for her hand, and tells Kara that she’s smart enough to figure out the rest.

Kara leaves the next day.

Only, here’s the problem: She’s been reading and hearing about various artists for years now, and most of them have one thing in common: they’re stationed in Florence. That’s hella far to travel, considering that she lives in the Kingdom of Naples, in the province of Ultra, which doesn’t even have the decency to be near the Northern border - it’s dead up in the middle. That’s not even mentioning the fact that she’s a beautiful technically-still-teenager, traveling alone.

Furthermore, she’s not ignorant of her circumstances. There aren’t many artists that would be willing to take on a female pupil. She’s heard quite a bit about the personalities of several of them, and from what she can tell, that there are just a few that would even possibly maybe consider that. And, given that she’s risking everything for this, she’s not willing to settle on who she would like to learn from. If she’s going to do this, she’s going big. So, she decides to seek out the artist that most inspires her, to the point that the chance of learning from him is totally worth risking her life and future: Leonardo da Vinci.

During her harrowing trip to Florence (which involves lots of running, hiding, kind strangers with familiar names that are more than willing to help, and - naturally - punching of gross dudes), a few more hiccups in her plan begin to emerge. Firstly, she learns that da Vinci may be from Florence, and he may frequently stay there, but he definitely doesn’t live there. In fact, one thing that didn’t make it into her books or the stories she was told was that he is constantly traveling. He’s considered one of the greatest artists of his time, and is, therefore, frequently commissioned to work for rulers and nobles all over Europe. So, even if she makes it to Florence, there is a very good chance that she’ll never actually meet him.

Secondly, da Vinci’s willingness to tutor talented artists that wish to improve means that he already has quite a few pupils, assistants, and potential protégés that travel with him. Even if he was willing to take on one more artist, the fact remains that she is a woman. Her gender might not matter to him, but it’s unlikely that all of his students will share his feelings, which could potentially be a serious roadblock.

Naturally, though, Kara ignores the odds and keeps going. Even if he’s not in Florence, he’s a big enough name that she can probably still find him, and she’s willing to do whatever it takes. And, as far as his students go? Let’s just assume there’s a 16th century Italian equivalent to ‘screw those guys,’ and that Kara thought it very loudly.

Finally, two and a half years after leaving home, Kara arrives in Florence. Is she poor and tired? Yes. Is she also resourceful and unshakably determined? Absolutely. So, after she manages to secure temporary housing and an underpaying job willing to employ women on the down low, she starts asking around about da Vinci. Reports are contradictory, but she finally manages to speak to a reliable source that is absolutely sure that he’s in France, having been befriended, commissioned, and housed by the King, Francis I. With some effort, she finds the name of the town he’s settled down in: Amboise.

Nearly three years later, she arrives in Amboise. It reminds her of her village, because, although it’s slightly larger, it’s still small enough to be very close-knit. It doesn’t surprise her, then, that when people learn where she’s from and why she’s there, they’re slightly standoffish. What does surprise her is that, even when they realize her persistence, they’re entirely unwilling to even confirm or deny da Vinci’s presence, and continue to suggest that she look to expand her art knowledge elsewhere.

Finally, a local baker that she’s managed to befriend in the short time she’s been in town tells her that she’s asking the wrong questions. He tells her to head towards the eastern edge of town, and ask for Luciano.

Asking for this Luciano goes well - right up until the moment she explains why she wants to meet him and triggers the same brick wall she had before. She learns very quickly to keep it vague and let people draw their own conclusions about her reasons, which pays off well. Luciano Michelini, she learns, is a close friend and apprentice of Leonardo da Vinci. da Vinci, by this time, is elderly, and suffers from a crippling of his hand that has essentially stopped him from creating anything new. As a result, Michelini handles all requests for pieces, deliveries of purchases, and correspondence with those seeking guidance on artistic and engineering projects. Unlike da Vinci, Michelini is often seen about town, and the locals know him well.

After hearing all of this, Kara makes the painful decision to end her quest here. Bothering an old man so crippled that he barely leaves his home seems excessive and unkind, which is unacceptable, no matter how much it would mean to her to meet and learn from him. She’s disappointed, but there are other ways to improve in her artistry that don’t involve harassing the elderly. So, instead of seeking out a meeting with Michelini, she gathers her things a prepares herself to return to Florence.

…Which is, of course, when Michelini finds her.

See, the town is even more tight knit than Kara realized, and word had been passed around about the strange girl wanting to become a pupil of Leonardo da Vinci since the day she arrived. The baker (who truly had become fond of Kara), had been instructed by Luciano himself to point her his way. When they finally met, he explained that he preferred for his first impressions to be from a distance. He liked having the upper hand in a first meeting. da Vinci’s fame meant that it was important to know the type of person he was dealing with.

This does not annoy Kara as might have in other situations. Instead, she finds this man endlessly intriguing. Soon, she’s telling the tale of her long journey here, showing him her paintings, and getting a much clearer picture of what type of person would be able to get so close to someone like da Vinci. Before she knows it, Michelini is helping her to gather her things and leading her to the Château of Cloux - Leonardo da Vinci’s estate.

On the way, she learns a few things: Firstly, Luciano Michelini is not a painter. Unlike most that sought out tutelage from da Vinci, his desire was to be educated in the complex science of mechanics and engineering. Michelini saw the structures and machinery of the day and just thought that they could do better. There was so much more that man could do, and there was no one better than Leonardo to help him to learn how to make real, permanent advances.

Secondly, he met da Vinci in Milan, when he was 18 - eight years ago, now. He’d had many pupils when Michelini first began following da Vinci, but he was now the only one, and had been for several years. Luciano credits these years as ones that gave his life real meaning.

Once they’ve arrived at the expansive château and have taken up residence in the sitting room, though, a few more (fairly vital) pieces of information are shared.

For example: Leonardo da Vinci, Luciano explains calmly, has been dead for nearly six months. Kara’s silent shock ends up very convenient, in that it allows Luciano to explain without protest:

A little over a year ago, Leonardo contracted a mild illness, expected to resolve itself within a few days. A few weeks later, he was entirely bedridden, and stayed that way for months, before finally dying. Luciano, who had long since considered the man his father, was his primary caregiver, and therefore spent hours upon hours hearing stories of his past, ideas that struck him suddenly, and his regrets.

On his deathbed, Leonardo had shared that his greatest regret, by far, was that he had not carried out his works to the extent he should have, and had therefore failed God and accomplished no real change. This affected Luciano deeply, as he’d never met a greater man in his life. So, as Leonardo lived out his last few hours, Luciano came up with a plan that would prove to an even definitively how great Leonardo da Vinci truly was.

With the blessing of King Francis I, and a vow from those that lived in Amboise (a town that was very unique in that very few people moved in, and just as few moved out) to stay mum, Luciano kept da Vinci’s death a secret, abandoned his own projects, and set to work building - and, where possible, implementing - many of the inventions da Vinci had detailed in his notebooks. The king had granted Luciano two years to bring to life as many projects as he could before da Vinci’s death was officially announced, at which point they would be revealed and demonstrated so that all of Europe had a much clearer understanding of how much da Vinci had - and could have, if he’d had more time - affected their lives. It wasn’t enough, Luciano admitted, but it was something, and the least of what da Vinci deserved.

When Kara finally digests this news, she asks the first question that pops into her head: Why was she - an outsider with no affection for da Vinci, outside of the impersonal kind she’d developed from hearing about and occasionally seeing his work -let in on such a huge secret?

“You’re exactly the type of artist he would have taken as a student without hesitation. The type of unique fortitude combined with the level of skill you possess is very rare. You have a very sharp eye. He’d have never passed up on the opportunity to teach you. I can’t introduce you to him, but I can show you things of his that might help guide you.

“To be entirely, honest, though, my ego wasn’t entirely uninvolved in the decision. You remind me of myself.”

“Because of my passion and determination?”

“Maybe a little, but those traits are more common than you think. I was more referring to how we’re both women that went through great lengths to avoid having to give up our entire selves to better fit into our assigned roles.”

“…uh, yeah. That’s… similar.”

(Kara gets the full story the next day, when she’s less overwhelmingly stupefied:

Lena Lovatti was the daughter of Lorenzo Lovatti, one of the richest men in Milan. He was also one of the most feared. Though he was far from poor, he sought out ways to climb even further in the ranks of the nobility, and ultimately managed to gain much more wealth by acting as a spy for the French, a successful venture that ultimately helped them to overthrow the existing dynasty in Milan and take power there. Given his wealth and the protection he received from the Milan’s new French rulers, he was practically untouchable. This was a good thing, because he was also largely hated by the locals for his treason.

This little hiccup meant that Lorenzo had only recently found a suitable suitor for Lena, who’d just turned 18. Lena was in the process of finding a way out of that situation (and that house) when her father requested that Leonardo da Vinci, one of the most famous artists of the time, come visit their estate to discuss the possibility of Leonardo completing a piece for Lorenzo.

da Vinci ultimately declined, but during the visit, he caught Lena - who’d retreated to the study after dinner - sketching the design for a machine she was thinking up. Impressed, he convinced her to show him other ideas she’d come up with. When he mentioned that he would love the chance to guide her and help her to better her understanding of the natural forces at play that would determine the effectiveness of her inventions, she laughed, asking him not to feed her impossible dreams. She was a Woman, after all. Leonardo clearly didn’t care about her gender, but wasn’t ignorant of the challenges they would both face if a upper class woman joined him in his travels. He didn’t give up, though. After a brief silence, he asked, “Tell me: Would you be especially opposed to hosiery, or are you too attached to the bodice?”

Two weeks later, Lena Lovatti’s strange disappearance was clarified by her family: She’d run away and joined a convent.

Three years later, the French were overthrown in Milan, and its former dynasty once again took power.)

The epilogue (wtf is wrong with me) would involve an episode of Fox and Friends, wherein they discuss the recent discovery of letters and portrait sketches that would suggest that Leonardo da Vinci’s most prominent pupil and inheritor of his estate was most likely a woman. The implications of this were even more astounding, as said pupil was married to the woman who, just a decade ago, been identified as the artist behind a nom de plume that had been used on several paintings now considered to be priceless.

The segment’s a complete cyclone of insane garbage, but this is what becomes everyone’s favorite soundbite:

“This is just the most ridiculous – I mean, god. They got the bathrooms, they got the marriage, they got into congress - how much more gay do we need? Are we rewriting the constitution next? ‘We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created fabulous.’?”

*lol good try, past Erin. That is not its name.

#this took so much research #i hope it was worth it #inaccuracy in historical writing is my kryptonite #by which i mean it kills me slowly and cruelly #hahaha outline right?#in which erin once again fails to chill #ps d'anversa is a real last name common to that area i didnt make it up #but i WAS tickled pink #pps the idiot at the end is not quoting the constitution #pippytmi #writing memes #my writing #kara and lena #bianca #supergirl

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worryinglyinnocent · 4 years

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Fic: Pure (2/?)

Summary: Belle wanted to wait until marriage before she had sex for the first time. It was the one thing that still stuck in her mind after leaving her small town upbringing steeped in religious doctrine and abstinence culture. When her wedding night comes, however, the purity ideals of Storybrooke’s sex education are hard to shake off, and making the transition from virgin to sexually active is more difficult than she anticipated. With the help of a patient husband, Belle begins an intimate journey into understanding her body, her desires, and her identity as a woman.

Rated: E

======

Pure

Two

When she woke the next morning, sunlight peeping in at the edges of the thick curtains, the first thing that Belle felt was hot. She’d rolled away from Aiden during the night, but even so, she hadn’t reckoned on how warm a second person would make things under the covers. She liked it; she’d never need to bring a hot water bottle to bed with her again at this rate.

She rolled back over onto her side, pressing in close against Aiden again. She could feel him hard against her thigh, but she wasn’t unduly worried. Thankfully basic biology had been one thing that she had managed to teach herself that had stuck, after she’d left high school with an only very vague understanding of how the human body, whether male or female, worked. She wondered if the school still had all the old textbooks, with the pictures of genital anatomy inked out in Sharpie to avoid the teenagers getting any unsavoury ideas about the opposite sex’s naughty bits.

Waking up beside Aiden was something that she wanted to do for the rest of her life. That was one of the reasons why she had agreed to marry him, because even if she hadn’t actually slept in the same bed as him before now, she had always known that it was something that she wanted to do in the future.

And she did want to have sex with him. The thought of waking up with him after a night of passion was a thrilling one. Even more thrilling was the idea of waking up and then going straight back in for a morning of passion.

The problem was that she had such vague and nebulous ideas about what a night of passion actually entailed. Fiction had been her only guide so far, and she had grown out of her wide-eyed, small town naivete enough to know that fiction wasn’t reality. You couldn’t get decent sex education out of a romantic novel.

The internet had proved slightly more helpful, but almost more contradictory than everyone in her hometown had been, and every time she went looking for more useful resources, she always felt that snide little voice in the back of her mind telling her that this wasn’t something good girls ought to be looking up. Good girls shouldn’t be interested in sex. Good girls just lay back and let it happen. Or, if they were very good girls, then they didn’t let it happen at all. As much as she tried to counter-argue, ultimately that little voice would win, and would send her scurrying to close the browser and go and stick her head in the fridge to cool her blush.

Storybrooke was a good little religious town. Since leaving it to go to university in Boston and never returning on a permanent basis, Belle had lost most of her religious beliefs when she had learned that what was practised in Storybrooke wasn’t so much religion as a way of scaring everyone into subservience.

Ever since she had left and had her eyes opened, Belle had never really called the place home again, but still felt enough of a connection to want to get married there among the friends and family that she’d grown up with. She thought that they’d have more of a problem with Aiden, since he was twenty years older than she was and was already divorced, and like he’d said last night, half of the town seemed to think he was some kind of devil who’d seduced their sweet Belle away from them.

The other half were willing to ignore that in favour of the fact he was a successful businessman and property owner who could probably buy the entire town three times over if he had a mind to.

As part of its good little religious life, Storybrooke was obsessed with virginity. Especially the virginity of its young women. It was almost creepy, how seriously they took their abstinence education. Belle had recognised that only once she’d left the place, and she wondered how many women who had lived their whole lives there had missed out.

Sex before marriage was practically worse than murder when it came to the many deadly sins, which had led to the current dichotomy in Belle’s head that she could not seem to reconcile. Sex was terrible, sinful, an awful thing that you should never ever do. If you had sex before you were married, then you were used, marked for life, sullied. You would never again be pure in the eyes of God.

And yet, sex was also something that was so pure, so special, that the entire reason you should never have it before marriage was because it was something so heavenly it should only be experienced with the person you would spend the rest of your life with. It was precious and shouldn’t be shared around willy-nilly with everyone.

Belle had never truly been able to get her head around the paradox of something being terribly sinful and yet heavenly pure at the same time, that something could be evil or good depending on whether or not there was a ring on your finger at the time you did it.

As if that wasn’t enough food for thought, there so many paradoxes when it came to the act itself; once you’d got past the marriage part and therefore sex was no longer evil but actually a duty to be performed in order to have children. Yes, nice girls, pure, virginial girls, weren’t supposed to enjoy this wonderful, heavenly act of love, after all. Sex was for making babies.

But not your wedding night, obviously. You had to be on contraception on your wedding night in case, shock horror, you were on your period that day. You couldn’t present your husband with a bloody mess, after all. That was supposed to come later once the hymen was broken and you were officially deflowered. No longer a virgin. No longer pure.

No longer meaningful in the eyes of the town.

You weren’t supposed to like this act that you’d spent so long waiting for and preparing for.

As these thoughts were tumbling over and over in Belle’s mind, she began to come to the realisation of what had gone wrong last night. She hadn’t got to the bottom of it all by any manner or means; there were still going to be a lot of conversations to be had. But at the end of the day, she’d reached the crux of it.

She was scared, as simple as that.

The realisation took a huge weight of her mind. She had no idea what she was going to do with it now that she had come to it, but at least she could give voice to it properly. And if Aiden was the Aiden she had always known and loved, then he would help her through it. He had wanted to help her last night when she had been too emotional and overwrought to articulate anything of any use to anyone.

She smiled against his chest, closing her eyes again. It was a start, a baby step in the right direction.

A few minutes later, Aiden shifted and woke, pressing a kiss to her forehead before stretching out his arms and legs.

“Good morning, my beautiful wife.”

“Good morning, my beautiful husband.” Belle laughed. “We’ve only been married less than a day and we’re already one of those sickeningly happy couples from the commercials.”

“I’m very glad to hear that you’re feeling happier this morning.”

“Very much so. Yes. I’ve been thinking.”

“Good. Maybe hold that thought until after breakfast?”

Belle’s stomach gave an aptly timed growl. The reception did seem a long time ago now.

“Yes. Good idea.”

Belle reached for the room service menu as Aiden got out of bed and padded towards the bathroom, and she felt absolutely no shame in checking out his ass as he crossed the room. She had already accepted so much of what her upbringing had told her was sinful and she had no fears of going to hell. Appreciating her husband’s body was not something that she was going to feel guilty about. There were several reasons why she had married him, but the fact that he was very attractive was certainly among them.

They feasted on fruit and pastries, sitting on the end of the bed wrapped up in the hotel’s fluffy robes whilst they fed each other pieces of melon and strawberry, laughing with the sweet romance and silliness of it all. They needed to talk about what had happened last night, or rather, what hadn’t happened, but it wasn’t hovering over them like a black cloud, which Belle had worried it would. No, it was just a conversation that needed to happen. There was no blame on either side. No one at fault except the culture that had messed with Belle’s head so much.

It was only once they were full and leaning back against the headboard that Aiden turned to Belle again.

“Do you want to talk about it yet? We can put it away if you’re not ready.”

“No. I think the sooner we talk about it then the sooner we can work through it and the sooner it’s sorted. Otherwise it’s just going to be hanging over us forever.” She sighed, accepting Aiden’s arm around her shoulders before cuddling in against his side. “There’s a lot to unpack, and I accept that I probably should have talked about it before you know, the actual event, but there are some things that have become so ingrained that I just accept them for what they are. Not talking about losing my virginity being one of them.”

Aiden didn’t say anything; he just gave a small nod for her to continue with her piece.

“I think the thing that really freaked me out last night, the first thing to overcome, is that I was scared. I still am scared, and I’m not really sure how to stop being scared.”

“What are you scared of?” Aiden asked. “The first step to conquering a fear is always to name it so that you can confront it head on.”

“I’m scared of it hurting.”

“Sex shouldn’t hurt. If it does then I’m doing my job wrong.”

“Yeah, I know that it’s not supposed to hurt normally. I’ve read enough and seen enough to know that most sex scenes in books and films have the heroine screaming with pleasure, not pain. But this is the first time, and in books, it’s not normally so. The ones I’ve read with virgins are usually as prudish as I am and cut to black before the deed gets done. The first time always hurts. Breaking hymens and bleeding and the like. And you know, I’m not exactly stretched a lot. I’d had such a wonderful day, and I didn’t want to end it in pain.”

“Sex shouldn’t hurt,” Aiden repeated earnestly. “Not even the first time. The whole breaking and bleeding thing, it’s a load of bollocks. If you’re ready, then it won’t hurt, I promise. And if it does, then we stop, it’s as simple as that.”

“Yeah, but what if the fear of pain is the thing that’s making me not ready?” Belle thumped the pillow behind her in her frustration. “It’s a vicious cycle. And I think I am ready. I’ve been ready for ages, but I stuck to my resolution to wait till last night. It’s just this fear.”

“OK, maybe ready was the wrong word.” Aiden stared off into the middle distance, concentrating hard. It was his thinking face, the little furrow between his brows back again, and Belle had to laugh at it.

“Normally you’re so good with words,” she said. “You always seem to find the right ones when you’re making your deals. I’m sure you used to slaughter people in the courtroom with a well-placed word.”

“Oh, I did, which is why it’s so important to me to choose the right ones now.” Aiden gave a definitive nod as the correct words evidently came to him. “Ready probably isn’t the right word. Physically ready. Sufficiently aroused and begging to be touched. Then it won’t hurt. I mean, if you’re tense, then it will. But if you’re so drunk on love and orgasms that you’ve lost all that tension, then you’ll be fine. Think of it this way. When it comes to sex, I’m more like a Ford Fiesta.”

“What?” Belle looked at her husband as if he’d gone mad. “Aiden, you’re a Ferrari. Or Cadillac at least. I’ve seen your ass.” Which reminded her, in that moment, that Aiden still hadn’t actually seen her naked.

“I’m very flattered that you think so; but go with the analogy for a moment here. Considering I thought it up on the spot, I’m quite proud of it.”

“All right, all right.” Belle pecked a fond kiss to the end of his nose. “Going with the analogy. You’re a Ford Fiesta.”

“Yes. When you drive a Ford Fiesta, all you have to do is get in it and turn the key and you’re pretty much good to go. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes, but I still have no idea what this has to do with sex.”

“We’ll get there. You, on the other hand, far from being a Ford Fiesta, are more akin to Jefferson’s prize vintage Mustang convertible.”

“What, I only go out in summer when it’s not raining, and I get shut in the garage for the rest of the year? Sorry, sorry. Going with the analogy.” She giggled as Aiden gave a good-natured eyeroll and attempted to silence her with another kiss.

“No. Before you drive the vintage convertible, you take very good care of it. There’s a lot more to do before you can just get in and go. You check the lubricant levels, you check the fuel, you polish the mirrors, you check everything’s all right under the hood… Please say you’re with me now, because I’m not a car expert and I’m running out of things to say.”

Belle nodded. “So, what you’re saying is that I’m high maintenance?”

“No!” Aiden gave an exasperated sigh. “I just mean that when it comes to sex, it takes longer for you to be ready to go. You need more care and attention; you can’t just shove something up there and go. We guys have it easy. Get hard, insert tab A into slot B and ta-da, job done.”

“So, really, you are saying that I’m high maintenance.”

“Yes, but the maintenance is all part of the fun, my dear, and the myth of sex being painful on the first go is perpetuated by people who are too young and-or inexperienced to realise that, or too damn lazy to enjoy the maintenance. I mean, you said yourself, you’re fairly well-read. Wouldn’t all these stories have been so much more boring if it was a simple case of mindless fucking all the time?”

Belle thought about it. “Ok, you’ve got a point there. So, as long as I’ve warmed up properly before the sexual work out, I’ll be fine?”

“Yes.”

“I really need to start reading these books more carefully. This is what happens when you get your sexual education from fiction.”

“All things considered, having seen your home-town, I don’t really think you can be blamed for getting your sexual education from fiction. As fictional as it might be, at least it’s better than non-existent.”

Belle sighed. “You really didn’t know what you were letting yourself in for when you got together with me, did you?”

“Belle, I love you. The bags and baggage that you come with are all part of that. God knows, I’ve got an entire luggage compartment full of my own. I love you, and that means I’ll overcome these hurdles with you.”

“I love you too.” Belle turned fully on the bed so that she could face him, cupping his face in both her hands and kissing him slowly, deliberately. “I love you so much, and I am so glad I married you.”

Feeling emboldened by the conversation, she unfastened the belt of her robe and shrugged it off her shoulders. Although she had no intention of going much further right now, at least she’d know if the sight of her sent him screaming for the hills.

“Belle?”

She took his hands and brought them to the hem of her nightgown, kneeling on the bed.

“I love you. And I want you to see me. All of me. Maybe I’m not ready for the sex part just yet, but I’m ready for the getting naked part.”

Together they pulled the nightgown up and over her head, and immediately, Belle knew that she didn’t have to worry about Aiden running for the hills.

“Oh my, Belle. As gorgeous as you look with your clothes on, you’re even more wonderful with them off. Come here.”

Belle was lost in a flurry of kisses, heated and frantic as she pushed Aiden’s robe off so that she could be skin-to-skin with him, his hands splaying over her bare back and running up and down her sides. She could have kept kissing him all day, but the energy eventually petered out, leaving them lying in a tangle of silk and soft towelling, nestled close together and basking in each other’s warmth until the time came to get dressed and check out of the hotel, ready to start their honeymoon.

There were still things to talk about. The voice at the back of Belle’s mind had not gone away, but at least her immediate fears had been quelled, and she knew that whilst this was going to be a learning curve, it was not going to be a painful one.

They had an entire lifetime to work through it all, and what better time to start than on a honeymoon?

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Belle French #Mr Gold #virgin!Belle #Fic: Pure

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zuka-themed-username · 4 years

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Impressions: Spreading Golden Wings / Music Revolution! (yukigumi 2019 tour)

This has been a long time coming, apologies! As I didn’t write any notes at intermission this will be a shorter, more generalized opinion of the Monday, Oct. 14th performance in Kawasaki. It was two days after the ‘worst storm in Japan in 60 years’ according English news, and ‘violent typhoon no. 19′ in Japanese, which, they weren’t wrong. It was terrifying and exhausting, and I cannot imagine having to put on a brave face and perform like everything is totally fine just a day later. Both sections of Snow Troupe did however, and I will be forever impressed. It does not however, make me inclined to enjoy Spreading Golden Wings any more than I am able to, though this may be the first time I buy a blu-ray for the revue. More thoughts below the cut!

I’ll be popping back into my bullet point format from here.

This is the Revue’s first performance in カルッツかわさき (Culttz Kawasaki, honestly love the name). It’s beautiful, and reminds me of many new performance spaces - bright woods, streamlined design, open lobby and a ton of stairs. The seat I had is still considered S seki, and was pretty nice, though I’m glad I had my opera glasses.

The program is a nice light blue with just Nozomi Fuuto (Daimon) posing in her primary Music Revolution costume (black & silver w/ huge white gems and metal circles). I wish they had a Maaya Kiho (Kiho) variant or a cover with them together, but that’s totally fine.

I did write some notes on the train ride back to Tokyo, so I’ll be using those as a jumping off point. Note that the day before I had seen Star Troupe’s GOD OF STARS, so many of the notes are phrased comparatively. Spoiler-free until the [s]

Spreading Golden Wings

‘limited set’

It’s a touring show, and frankly I’m glad they don’t have to take a lot with them, as they may run into damaged roads on their tour south, but I was still surprised at the sparseness. It didn’t help that the aesthetic was medieval European, which made it look a bit like a televised Shakespeare production. However! This allowed you to focus on the scene without worrying about missing something. Unlike Grand Theater / Tokyo runs where people see a show several times, I would hope tours are designed to be seen once. Thus I’m glad I didn’t leave thinking, ‘oh next time I’ll look at opposite side of the stage, I missed xyz’.

‘single scenes, no additional side scenes’

This is something that made GOD OF STARS simultaneously amazing and terrible, as there were always 45 people on stage doing something elaborate. Spreading Golden Wings was the complete opposite. It felt old-school, to be sure, but I cannot recall a single scene where something was happening outside of the range of what my opera glasses could see. People could be spaced out across the stage of course, but they were all participating in the same moment. It really highlighted acting choices, especially considering a surprising lack of underscoring allowing you to hear every footstep and breath. The recording of this will flawlessly capture what yukigumi was aiming to project, which will be great to see again.

‘Daimon cackles into and out of a scene’

I will briefly break down the plot and characters in a bit, but there is an early scene where the villainous Vittorio, played by Daimon, enters the room where he is holding Clarice, played by Kiho, captive, and her laugh as she enters was identical to the laugh she gave as she left two minutes later. I thought it was fantastically over the top and well within the aesthetic of the work.

‘Kiho is ... befuddled / confused / flabbergasted -> meta for her character?’

I had a hard time with Clarice in this show, let’s be real. Kiho used her huge eyes to her advantage, looking woefully overwhelmed for the first 80% of the show, and confidently winging it (and therefore vaguely panicked) the last 20%. I would love to hear Kiho’s thoughts on the character, which may be in a Kageki somewhere if someone has the most recent issue.

‘Asami Jun just obsessed w/ Daimon’

I can’t speak for Asami but her character, Falco, gets one of the few solos to solely sing about how everything he does is for Vittorio. If you want to memorize the ‘ために’ grammar pattern do I have the song for you. It felt very St-Just 2.0 but it was still super engaging and later provided some shock value.

‘few interstitial chorus scenes’

I completely forgot this half of yukigumi had ~40 people in it until they would do a dance to establish the scene. The show starts with quite a long prologue, but I still forgot them completely until they would all pop up again to either establish a new location, tone, or event. It is very reminiscent of hoshigumi’s Elbe from earlier this year. This show does not require more than a dozen people for the plot, so when everyone shows up in roles clearly not meant to directly impact the story it was quite a surprise.

‘purposefully better sword work’

There are a few fight scenes / sword training scenes in the show, and the choreography for them becomes increasingly complicated as the show progresses, which was a nice touch.

[s] Kiho especially makes a dramatic improvement as the show progresses, which makes sense thematically, but by the end she’s legitimately holding her own against otokoyaku who have generally had more fight training (unless she did for Mibugishiden, which I have not seen)

[s] ‘clearly a repro of the 85 show’ / ‘tbh can’t tell what has changed’

Alrighty so it’s time to dive into the core of the interest around this production - the fact that it was originally a taidan / tour back in 1985, and that when this show was announced it was immediately followed up with, ‘we’re rewriting some things to make it fresh for modern audiences’. It was not relabeled in the same way as Elbe was with ‘Once Upon a Time in Takarazuka’, but there was a significant amount of notice paid to the fact that some things would be different. My question though as we went into intermission was, what changed? Reading through the plot on takawiki, the beats are the same. Full disclosure, I am not fluent in Japanese. There is a great chance that it is simply a nuance of language that perhaps makes the motivations behind actions more gray, but it does not change the fact that the scenes still play out with the same result. I believe there is an additional love song at the end between Daimon and Kiho because they sound ~amazing~ and can emote ~so well~ but that was perhaps the only thing that felt fresh to me. Everyone that betrays someone still betrays that person, questionable scenes of consent still look quite questionable, the interesting shift from lady to page boy was still fun to see. But I believe they were the same as before, and I don’t consider acting choices within scenes to allow for ambiguity to be rewrites. That’s just the benefit of restaging a production. Perhaps the chorus scenes were fleshed out, but I was expecting shifts in plot, character arcs, or concrete visual differences in motivation. I would love for a full breakdown of this show once the recording is released at the end of January.

[s] ‘some spicy scenes, audience was caught up’ / ‘whip scene? :o’

Here’s a brief breakdown of the core plot after me talking around it for 10 minutes

Daimon plays Vittorio, the lord of an Italian city state of Lago that is always feuding with the nearby city state of Bolzano. He kills the lord of Bolzano, and takes his daughter, Clarice (played by Kiho) prisoner. She of course is not on board with this. When she meets him, however, she is shaken up by his attractiveness, and he declares that she belongs to him now, no questions please. He attempts to force his point, she clumsily whips out a dagger that she loses immediately (sigh), and he is now charmed and attracted, and decides to teach her the basics of sword-fighting which will definitely not be needed later. Meanwhile Vittorio’s old bff/prime minister/secret admirer Falco (Asami Jun) is Not Having It. After clearly demonstrating to the audience his, honestly no other way to phrase it, love of Vittorio, we see that he will do whatever it takes to ensure Vittorio does not become weak in his love for Clarice.

Various plot things happen that put Clarice in danger and Vittorio saving her / demonstrating his passion for her, and eventually the prime minister of Bolzano (Clarice’s father’s old city state) Guillermo (Kujou Asu), catches on. This results in Vittorio and Clarice being captured, with Vittorio chained, whipped (by Falco!) and leaving without an eye.

Sometime later, Clarice, now dressed in disguise as a page boy and seemingly willingly with Vittorio, delivers a message to Guillermo from Vittorio, challenging him to a duel.

Vittorio (+1 sexy eyepatch) and Gulliermo (-1 for losing his cool and planning to use poison to win) duel. It is sanctioned by the Pope, who should be busy doing holy things but here we are. Several people jump into the fray after the attempted poison, Clarice shows off her sword skills like a boss, the Golden Wings of Vittorio’s city state arrive, and all is well. There’s a brief bit at the end where Vittorio and Clarice declare their love for each other, and curtain.

I definitely left out some side plots and characters because I wanted to get to my thoughts on a few main scenes I saw and wish I saw.

bed scene - early on in the show Vittorio forces himself onto Clarice. Daimon being Daimon leaves a bit of space as she looms over Kiho, but Kiho squeaked, there is no other way to describe it, and I wanted to gasp with surprise. Everyone and their mother had stopped breathing and stared through their opera glasses, collectively releasing it when Kiho went for the knife (after quite a hold - it was clear she had the release point on the scene and leaned into it)

whip scene - I was like, ‘oh this is scandy what’s going to happen’. It’s not as dramatic/musicalized as 1789, but I was still surprised. The only thing that pulled me out of it was the lack of cuffs on the wall XD. Daimon just held her arms up, shout out to that arm strength. Anytime someone gets whipped it’s pretty intense, and Daimon is great at pulling out strong emotions from pain. The yells, ooooof.

the scenes between the escape and the duel challenge - I really want to chalk this up to my lack of language, but I wanted more scenes between Vittorio and Clarice after their escape and before the duel, as it’s quite clear Clarice isn’t going anywhere. (Even back to her own home city state that she must not be welcome in anymore) I think that would have been a great place to add some softer moments, not just grand displays of affection due to a traumatic circumstance or misdirected force. Doesn’t have to be a coffee shop scene or even a wound-tending scene, but perhaps Clarice working with Vitorrio to account for his new lack of depth perception? Or another sword-fight training scene? I just wanted more Daimon and Kiho but not at the dramatic extremes of this Shakespearean-esque drama.

All in all, looking back on Spreading Golden Wings I had a better time than I originally thought. I never doubted for a second that yukigumi: top star edition wouldn’t put it’s all into this smaller scale production. Every scene oozed with intention, strong acting choices, and when it allowed for it, beautiful songs and choreography. I only wish the source material was a bit more... nuanced? Though there is charm in it’s clear presentation and design. As I type I waffle back and forth, so I will simply move on to Music Revolution. Once the recording comes out however, I’d love to hear other folk’s thoughts.

Music Revolution

I f*king loved this revue, and I did not see it coming. I had assumed a scaled down GT/TT revue would feel sparse but I was shut right the hell up immediately. First things first my journal’s incredibly vague bullet points.

‘got more and more fun’

This is so basic yet so true. Usually there’s a slump in a revue for me somewhere, a slower ballad or dance section, but I only got more hype as the revue went on. Spreading Golden Wings felt short due to the generally straightforward plot, but if you told me Music Revolution was 2 hours I would say sure, and I loved every minute.

‘’Music is My Life’ is so damn fun’

Thanks for the detail, past me. But truly, hearing crisp English, incredibly strong and beautiful yukigumi voices, sharp choreography... it was a dream. I was charmed to no end by how clearly Daimon loved that song. This feels like it could be a main theme for her moving forward, or one that comes back quite a bit for yukigumi or zuka as a whole. One of my favorite moments.

‘Lots of dancing, Daimon’s voice almost too strong?!’

This no doubt was bolstered by seeing hoshigumi right before (sorry not sorry) but it felt like yukigumi was dancing so hard all the time. Clearly the folks not in Spreading Golden Wings just went twice as hard for the revue as a result. And Daimon was in the thick of it, matching beat for beat to only then belt some amazing notes. After spending the previous week in hoshi taidan sadness / cheer it was so refreshingly perfect. Her couple of solo moments were mesmerizing, and I’m so glad I can sink back into my yuki love while waiting for hoshi to ramp back up.

‘amazing music, classical remixes so fun, trumpet and sax go home’

does the orchestra travel with them?? because if so, the f*king brass section went berserk during the jazz dance section and I nearly had a heart attack. It was so off the walls that they have to had recorded it in advance - it was way too hardcore to repeat every show. I wanted to applaud for the solo like you would in a standard jazz concert but alas.

similarly, this revue has the highest proportion of my favorite thing in revues - classical music remixes. Idk if they are popular but I love hearing the orchestration choices and genres they throw at classical melodies, and what bonkers choreo they toss in there as well.

‘adlib sections were stronger, lots of space’

While there were not extended sections to adlib an entire scene, there were some spots where the troupe or Daimon run into the audience. As it’s a tour, there is a bit of space in the song for the folks to navigate different sized halls. For this performance, Kiho was singing for Daimon as she jogged through the first floor, and as she made it back up to the stage she went to regard the folks in the first row before realizing she didn’t have time. ‘Ah shoot I have to be back up there the song’s almost done’ she remarked with a laugh as she hopped back on stage to regard a smirking Kiho. It was pretty fun, and it was nice to see her not panicked about it. Kiho had the song covered, there was still underscoring for her to make it back, and she had a charming way of commenting on it. Yay adlib improvement! There are some other places during full troupe dances where they can shout out the city / prefecture they are in, which Daimon and co. were quite inclined to do as she is from Yokohama, the capital of the Kanagawa prefecture where the show was happening.

I wish I had more concrete notes for this, like I do GOD OF STARS, but I hope this provides a bit of context when you get a chance to see it for youself. It’s not my favorite yuki show by any stretch, it’s honestly probably near the bottom, but it’s not from lack of effort or enthusiasm. It serves a unique role and no doubt checks off some square on Daimon’s ‘how to conquer Takarazuka’ bingo card so for that I’m glad. The revue on the other hand, is one of my favorites. I’ve never had such a stark contrast in my opinion on two ‘acts’ before, which in and of itself is fun to reflect on. I really like where yuki is at right now, and cannot wait to see Once Upon a Time in America.

Stay tuned for the most overlong and overdue look at GOD OF STARS this side of the Pacific.

#snow troupe #spreading golden wings #yukigumi #Habatake Ougon no Tsubasa yo #Music Revolution!#tour 2019 #Nozomi Fuuto #Daimon #Maaya Kiho #Kiho #Asami Jun

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aredhel85 · 5 years

Text

The Serpent’s Fate

The plan made sense, even the weird prophecy of the long dead mad witch made sense … and still Crowley was hesitant. Not because he didn’t believe the plan would work – deep down he knew it would, although there were more than enough possibilities for it to go wrong – and not because he didn’t trust Aziraphale, because if there was anyone in heaven, on earth or in hell that he trusted, it was the angel. Also, he knew that they knew each other well enough, long enough, to be able to convince their respective opposing side that they were the respective other.

All that did not worry him.

What worried him was a feeling, an urge, that had been strong in him for several millennia and was all but easy to overcome: To keep the angel save and unhurt.

He knew it was ridiculous, that the hurt that would come to him would be far worse if they didn’t switch bodies, but still …

“Crowley, dear, do you have doubts about the plan?”

They were standing in Crowley’s flat, Aziraphale still holding out his hand, waiting for Crowley to take it, waiting for them to switch bodies. After some drinking, getting sober again and hours of talking they had, after all, both decided that it was the most logical thing to do. You can’t kill a demon by the same means as an angel and vice versa. If they switched bodies, their soul – or whatever there was in Crowley’s case – would still be the same and the body they would then inhabit would be affected by that. If everything worked out, it would keep them both safe.

It was their only chance.

“I need to tell ya something first”, Crowley said in a slow voice. It wasn’t easy. He had kept that secret from everyone for so long, unwilling to admit weakness, even to Aziraphale.

Slowly the angel let his hand sink down and looked at him with those eyes Crowley could spend hours looking at. Now they were curious and slightly concerned.

The demon sighed heavily, started pacing around the angel, a habit that actually had something to do with what he was about to reveal. He wondered how to start, how to say something that had been his secret for 6,000 years. Aziraphale’s eyes followed him.

Finally, he started speaking. “Because you have done this, cursed are you more than all cattle, and more than every beast of the field; on your belly you will go, and dust you will eat all the days of your life. Blah, blah, blah.”

Surprised the angel raised his eyebrows. “Well, I must admit I didn’t expect you of all people to quote the Bible. But … what are you trying to tell me? This was obviously wrongly transcribed, dear. You are walking, after all. You are right now.”

Finally, Crowley came to a halt right in front of Aziraphale. He did not take off his sunglasses, glad that he didn’t have to meet his eyes directly. “No, it wasn’t, angel.” He paused a moment, before continuing. “I just think it’s fair to warn you before you are trapped in my body for a few hours or a day or whatever. It will hurt.”

Aziraphale just stared at him with barely masked concern. “I fear I don’t quite understand …” His voice was quiet, as though he feared what was to come now.

“Yeah … You know, I’m not supposed to walk. I wasn’t supposed to take a human form ever again. I defied Her, being the bastard that I am.”

He remembered that moment all too clearly. He had seen Aziraphale standing on the wall surrounding Eden. So perfect, so beautiful. He had watched him many times before that, while he had been, as he had called it himself very recently, on apple tree duty. Crowley had wanted nothing more than talk to him, but not in this form, not as the sinful reptile which had just sealed humanity’s fate. He wanted to talk to him as an equal, or at least as much an equal as he could, being the demon he was. And so he had slithered up the wall and before Aziraphale could see him, he had changed his form. Back then, the first time after God had cursed him for tempting Eve, it had taken so much more willpower than it did now, but he had done it, he had stood by the angel’s side for the first time of many more to come. And it had been worth the side effects, still was.

“I’m not supposed to have legs,” he continued. “Therefore, they hurt every time I stand or walk on them. Mostly when I stand for a long time, that’s the main reason I try to keep moving. But walking for too long isn’t much better, really. It gets worse when it’s cold and when I’m under a lot of strain. So it’s pretty bad right now. I doubt it will stop just because you’re in my body.”

Aziraphale stilled stared at him, stunned. He waited for the pity he had wanted to avoid so much. Maybe the disgust. The realisation that this was exactly what Crowley, the Serpent of Eden, deserved.

Instead, light blue eyes became watery. There was no pity, only compassion, so much compassion. “Oh my dear boy. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I should have noticed.”

Trying to hide the lump in his own throat, Crowley shook his head once. “Bullshit. I didn’t want you to know and so you didn’t. Easy as that. I’m used to it.” That wasn’t exactly true. On some days, warm and lazy days, preferably spent on the sofa of Aziraphale’s book shop, he indeed hardly noticed it, but there were days when he just wanted to scream and scream and scream. Not that this would change anything. The only thing that helped then was hiding away in his flat and spending some days in his snake form.

“How can you get used being in constant pain?”

Crowley raised his shoulders, slowly circling Aziraphale again, just to stretch his legs, to stop them from cramping up too much.

“There’s a lot you can put up with if you have to, angel. Anyway, I’m not telling you that for the sake of whining. I just want you to be prepared. It won’t be pleasant.”

Aziraphale straightened, turning around to look at Crowley. “If you can endure that for 6,000 years, I will manage for a mere day.” Again, he held out his hand.

The demon sighed. “Let’s sit down.” Hopefully that would lessen the initial shock. It was indeed pretty bad right now, with the stress of the fucking Apocalypse that didn’t happen after all and being on his legs almost constantly for days, his legs and hips were cramping like crazy. It wouldn’t be easy for the angel to pretend to be him when constantly distracted like that.

In the vague hope that the pain would follow him, no matter which body he inhabited, he finally took his friend’s hand – one of the few times he had actually touched him – and concentrated. The switch was quick and went without a problem and for a few selfish seconds he relished in the feeling to be truly painless for the first time in 6,000 years despite his human form. Aziraphale’s body was so very comfortable and …

The few moments of bliss were interrupted by a quiet, suppressed groan.

Crowley looked up and saw his own body, face not carefully concealing the pain with the ease of years and years of practice, but with a tight and painful expression. Aziraphale tried to hide it, but it must have hit him, who had surely known very little true pain in his long life, like a damn sledgehammer. The angel, trapped in the demon’s body, moved around, trying to find a position which was more comfortable. Crowley knew that this was a more than useless effort, especially in the current condition his body was in. It would take days of rest to get better after the last few days and let’s face it – years. Being in the useless nanny costume every day – he hated himself for having invented high heels – hadn’t exactly been comfortable either.

It was hellish for him, he couldn’t imagine how Aziraphale was feeling.

“I’m so sorry, angel.” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet and sincere. Despite the wonderful lightness of being in a different body he would have switched back immediately, but that wouldn’t help. It would get them both killed.

Aziraphale looked at him, the golden snake eyes painfully wide and unbelieving. “You live like that all the time?”

“No, not all the time, really. It’s not always that bad. It’s just been … crazy lately. As I said before, stress and a lot of strain makes it worse, so there we are. You shouldn’t have to endure that. You of all people sure as hell don’t deserve it.” The words were out before he could think them through.

“You don’t either!” For a moment the tightness left Crowley’s voice with which the angel now spoke. But his voice was uncharacteristically passionate. “I don’t care if you want to hear it or not, but you are one of the kindest people I have known in all my existence! You don’t deserve that. And if She thinks you do, well …” The angel’s voice faltered, but he did continue. “Then She’s wrong.”

“Don’t say that”, Crowley almost hissed in shock.

“Oh I will. Even to Her face, if I must.”

They were both quiet for a moment, then Aziraphale carefully got up, trying to keep his face straight, just like Crowley had done all those years. He walked a few tentative steps, getting used to the feeling, then he made an effort to walk normally, and then in Crowley’s typical way of walking. He was doing surprisingly well and the demon respected him even more for it.

“I thought you walk like that because it’s easier. It’s not, though, is it?” Questioningly the angel looked at him.

Despite himself, Crowley grinned. “Nah, it’s just for the sake of sinful vanity.”

---

It went well. Crowley had convinced heaven that he was Aziraphale and could not be killed by hellfire. The only thing he regretted was not being able to give that smug bastard Gabriel a good push towards the flames.

To his endless relief, Aziraphale already waited for him on their usual park bench, sitting there in a typical Crowley manner.

He was alright. Everything had been worth it.

They exchanged a few words, made sure neither heaven nor hell was watching them and then Crowley held out his hand.

This time, however, it was the angel who hesitated. “Are you ready for switching back?” His voice was hesitant once more, very quiet and through Crowley’s sunglasses he looked into the demon’s currently blue eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean … We could stay like this for a few days. I could take it. Really. I mean, I just get some rest, allow your body to recover, you enjoy a few painless days and when you return to your body, it won’t be so hard.”

Crowley had to look away. Those words, still spoken without pity, but endlessly compassionate and with so much kindness, moved him more than he wanted to admit.

And for a moment he was tempted. A few days, a few blissful days without pain, when he could do whatever he wanted to do … But no, he could not allow that. Not when Aziraphale had to bear his punishment during this time. How should he enjoy a single second with that knowledge?

Still he could not bring himself to say no immediately. “Why would you do that?”, he asked instead. An honest question; he didn’t understand it. Why would the angel, who had very recently claimed to not even like him, do something like that for him?

The angel raised his shoulders, looking at Crowley almost … sadly. “I can’t stand the thought of you being in pain all the time,” he finally admitted quietly. “And I can’t believe I never noticed. I will never cease to be sorry about that, my dear. I just want you to have … you know, a few nice days, I suppose. You deserve that so much.”

Crowley closed his eyes, shook his head slowly, but felt long, thin fingers, his own fingers, but not controlled by himself, on his cheeks. “Yes, you do, my dear. You really do.”

The demon took a deep, shuddering breath, again shaking his head. “No, we switch back now. I can turn into a snake and just sleep for a few days. It’ll be better after that. I doubt you’d manage that trick.”

“Probably not,” Aziraphale admitted, his hands now on his shoulders. He hesitated. “But … we can switch again someday. When you need a break. Any time, my dear.”

Crowley had no idea how to react to such a kind gesture and so he only nodded shortly, not meeting Aziraphale’s eyes, and with no intention at all of ever taking him by the offer.

Then he held out his hand and this time the angel took it.

------

I’m considering to make a small series out of this. What do you think?

If you prefer to read it on Archive of our own, here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20018443

#good omens #crowley #azirphale #ineffable husands #fanfiction #fanfic #my fics #angst and fluff #i guess #i have no idea why i'm doing this to crowley and i'm truly sorry #still the serpent was cursed by god for tempting eve and i had to do something with that #i hate myself a little #the serpent's fate series

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bluemoonpunch · 6 years

Text

I wanted to make this post to clear up some things that some of you very passionate taekook and jikook shippers who were upset because one of the asks I responded to made it seem like I was favoring/bashing jikook/taekook — somehow both sides managed to take it badly.

I wanted to apologize to anyone who thought that I was bashing Jimin or trying to portray Jimin and Jungkook’s relationship in a bad light. That really wasn’t my intention, but I did realize that with the way I answered that post anyone who had not read the Jimin and Jungkook relationship reading, Jimin’s Elemental Alignment reading, or any of the group readings it would be difficult, without that context, to catch my point. That was my fault. Honestly, not that many people come onto the blog or find my posts without having already read other readings which is why I tend to answer them as though people already know what I am talking about.

Just to clear things up, I don’t hate Jimin and I sure as fuck do not align myself with people that hate him purely because they are “supporters” of an opposing ship, or hate him for any reason at all really. As a grown adult, I am well past that stage in my life where I find jollies or even the slightest bit of use in hating people, especially people I don’t know personally. I’m beyond that and I encourage people that peruse my blog to also stay beyond that quite often.

I am not an “anti-jikook” shipper or supporter/opposer or whatever. I like all ships. Literally, since the dawn of time (2007) I’ve always been one of those people that liked all the ships in any fandom I’ve been a part of just because I’ve always liked the variations of connections that people seem to pick up on. I am not, however, one of those people that feels the need to show “support” for potentially closeted romantic couples by starting ship wars, constantly trying to “prove” that they are gay, or harassing other people who don’t have the same beliefs/opinions about those relationships between those people. I’m just not.

I have said since the very beginning of this blog that any information I find that I consider to be extremely personal, such as relationship status, sexual orientation, details on mental health, family matters and so on I will not include them in the reading or answer any asks about it directly where things cannot remain vague or completely anonymous. The only time I share that information is if it is already public knowledge, which most of the time, it isn’t.

For the people who think that I am trying to label Jimin and Jungkook’s relationship as toxic, I definitely am not. They have one of the strongest relationships in the group and I’ve said that many times. Where the “toxic” statement came from was the Jikook relationship reading where halfway through it I give an “intermission” to explain that I made a comment while in the midst of the reading saying that their relationship seemed toxic because of how their ENERGY mixed between them. This is that bit from that reading:

“In terms of dynamic, in the energetic sense, Jungkook does seem more submissive because his energy itself seems very easily manipulated or molded. I don’t know if that’s how he is with everyone, or if it’s just with Jimin, I think it might be, but I can’t be too sure.

“[INTERMISSION] So, right at this point I had some sort of fucking energetic overload from Kook. What had happened was, I was just edging in a little bit deeper into Kook’s side of things because the energy did seem off and I was actually trying to see if there was energy manipulation happening here and I even made the comment in my head that their relationship seemed borderline toxic, and that’s when I got fucking slammed. Literally, everything fucking flipped. It was a huge massive FLIP and I got dizzy, I goosebumps in waves all over, I had that static feeling in my fingers, I couldn’t breathe, and then I got this sharp fucking pain in my ear for a split second (that actually happens a lot when I channel for long periods of time, along with migraines), and then my ears were just ringing for two or three minutes.

I had to have me a fucking moment after that shit. Had to do me some breathing exercises, had to look out the window for a bit because FUCK that.

But yeah, Mr. Jeon don’t like his personal energy being tapped past the line of projection. That was my bad, sincerest apologies. Like, genuinely, I did cross a line there and I totally deserved to have my fucking brain melted. Not a problem. Lesson learned. Tread lightly around Kook.

But just to clarify for anyone concerned, there is nothing abusive between Jimin and Jungkook. ��I’m sure none of you thought that, but just in case that was what it seemed like, no need to worry. They just have a very odd balance that doesn’t make a lot of sense. It might make sense to them on one of two levels, but it’s just a messy picture for an outsider such as myself.”

That post is here.

I referenced that bit in the answer to that ask and, like I said, without prior knowledge of this bit in that post it would seem like I was literally saying that they have a toxic relationship. That is not the case at all. They’re a huge support system for each other and it does go both ways, without a doubt. In that reading I talked about their “layered” connection — that’s also something to keep in mind.

One of the other things that was taken a bit out of context was when I said that Taehyung and Kook’s relationship is very different than Jimin and Kook’s relationship. It is, but I didn’t mean that in a way where I’m trying to say that one is #REAL and the other is #FAKE. I, again, was talking about their energetic and soul connections. The vibe of those relationships are very different, but they are equal. I talked about it in an ask somewhere about how those two ships are the most prominent because of how the three of them link up with each other energetically. They are equal but different. The dynamic is different.

I really need people to understand that when I talk about people I am usually reading, I am channeling. I am always talking in terms of conscious, subconscious, unconscious, energetic, spirit, and soul connection. I touch on everything, not just the what we get at face-value. That is the point of these readings, it is why I started this blog. I wanted to open people’s mind to consider a broader view of the people they look up to. I did not start this blog to “validate” or “invalidate” ships — that is not my business and that is not my job.

Apparently, as people love to point out to me, there are plenty of blogs out there that will gladly tell you all about the personal lives of the guys down to the shade of red that their asshole is, but I gotta say, people who so willingly give out personal information have no moral code and no ethics that could keep them shoving shit down your throat for some likes and follows. Just saying.

I connect with Guides and energy cores and guess what, Guides (especially BTS’s Guides) do not hand out personal information about the souls they guide because it is beneath them to do so. It doesn’t matter therefore it is not shared. I, personally, just don’t like to do shit that could hurt someone. I really do not go into these readings with the intention of exposing people or trying to paint people in a bad light. I just want people to expand their view past what is shown and past the image that they have painted of the person I am reading. Plus, I just enjoy doing celebrity readings in general.

If you are new, I do encourage you to read through the BTS readings I’ve done as well as read through this to see what we’ve done with the BTS Soul Map and Soul Body healing as well.

Again, I am sorry to anyone who did interpret what I said as me hating on Jimin or trying to favor a ship or put a ship down. That was really not my intention, but I do see how it got a bit lost in translation and that’s my fault. I will try to be a bit more careful with how I answer questions and I will try to provide more context (links to posts, excerpts, screen caps) when I answer things from now on.

For those of you that are doing a bit more than sending me asks and PMs with questions or concerns, I ask that you chill the fuck out. This blog has 200 followers and my posts get no more than 20 notes. I’m not a big deal, these readings aren’t a big deal, they are simply something I enjoy doing and I make them for people who enjoy reading them and connect to them. I use this blog to fulfill my purpose and to help people grow and expand on their own through personal readings and group energy/meditation work. I will continue to live and breathe, and I will continue to post readings because it is something that I enjoy doing. Perhaps you should also find something you enjoy doing so that you’re not online so much getting angry over things that don’t affect you in even the slightest way possible. I have plenty of meditation recommendations for you, plus energy cleansing how-to’s which I feel like you might need desperately. >.>

If you don’t like me, my blog, or my work you do not have to be here. You can block me and you can blacklist my blog and then my posts won’t show up for you at all. It’s as simple as that. Again, I don’t think most of the people that read these readings look at them as anything more than entertainment, honestly, so there’s no reason to get all bent out of shape over posts that get 10 - 20 likes from people who don’t really pay any mind to what’s being said. I’m aware that a lot of shippers look to some of these posts in hopes of finding validation for their personal perceptions and views but that’s not what you’re going to get here.

If you have any more questions or concerns about anything that I didn’t touch on please PM me. I would prefer that to sending an ask that way we can have a back and forth conversation in real time and I don’t have to unload a bunch of things into my blog and then we can handle one topic at a time and understand each other better as well.

#jikook #taekook #park jimin #jimin #jeon jungkook #jungkook #kim taehyung #taehyung

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friendlycybird · 6 years

Text

1X05 - The Inconveniencing - Rewatch

Okay, we are on the first episode I watched 100% solo, and honestly I forgot how early this was in the series. I suppose that makes sense as it is the one that establishes most of the dynamic between Wendy and Dipper.

Let’s go.

I kinda love that the S on the “Mystery Shack” sign hasn’t been fixed.

I forget whether or not we found out where Stan was heading in this episode?

Also a shower curtain is a pretty lame way to hide a secret ladder.

Soos is an adorable worrier.

So, my player has been kinda stop and start, but that means I’m getting a lot of fun freeze-frame moments. Like when Wendy says “check it out” on the roof and Dippers face is literally just Ooooooohhhhhh and Mabel’s face is more like Whaaaaattt. Like they both look surprised but in very different ways.

Aww, it’s the first appearance of the secret sign between Dipper and Wendy!

...You know what, that cut is EXACTLY how I figure out I have crushes on people too. “Not like I lay awake thinking about her.” *Cut to laying awake thinking about her* “...uh-oh.” ...the rare moment in which Dipper is me.

“Since when are we thirteen? Is this a leap year?” Mabel, a leap year would not make you thirteen already. You’re adorable.

Wow. The literal start of the feud between Robbie and Dipper actually had nothing to do with Wendy. Robbie took initial dislike to him because he mistook the explosion picture for a muffin and the others laughed about it, not at Dipper for the mistake but at Robbie for the art being mistakable in the first place.

Wow. You know Thomson is a really great person when you think about it. He lets himself be the figurative group punching bag (although that ball-in-the-stomach game is a little bit literal on that count) and not only has zero resentment but he’s the guy that DRIVES them everywhere.

Also Mabel’s idea of grafitting a car is adorable.

Stan’s freakout at “The Duchess Approves” coming on is hilarious. His first response being to call the kids makes me wonder if he’d have been more willing to get up and look for the remote if he knew he was alone, like, you know, before this exact summer. Or maybe it’s a case of before the kids the remote never left its spot so of course he won’t get it ‘cause it’s not his fault the remote is someplace else? Why am I thinking about this?

Mabel had less trouble with the fence then Dipper? ...but Dipper climbs up onto the roof with zero trouble and knocks off the cover on the pipe thing and gets to the door again in seconds. I guess Dipper’s athleticism is directly tied to his level of motivation.

Y’know, I really hope this place wasn’t closed for very long. Or else NONE Of those sweets would be any good.

...okay, so Smile Dip is actually pretty creepy. Why, exactly, did the store owners just put up “do not sell” signs instead of, you know, getting rid of it when it got banned for, as Dipper suggested, “good reason”? Like, the initial hallucination itself seems...harmless? enough? I mean. As Hallucinations go. But Mabel’s face is just. ...you know I think I remember seeing this listed on the Nightmare Fuel page for this episode on TVTropes.

“You’re surprisingly mature for your age” “Yes, I am.” *promptly misses mouth with Popsicle several times.*

So, I read that it was apparently “Word Of God” that the freezer monster would never be explained but like, isn’t it just another generic part of the haunting? Like, thirty seconds later Dipper sees all their reflections as skeletons, and we’re suppose to assume at this stage that’s the same cause as the freezer monster, which turns out to be the old ghost couple...so didn’t the ghost couple just manifest the weird freezer monster? Or is it suppose to be something else that was deliberately left unexplained?

Also, if Stan didn’t want to get up for any reason, how did he get the Ice Cream? He must’ve gotten invested early on and made a run to the freezer during a commercial because he could tell he’d need it.

Okay, so the whole Smile Dip thing is actually pretty horrifying because like. What’s IN those things? and with how many Mabel ate (”eleven..teen”) she could easily have overdosed. Hell she LOOKS like she overdosed. Yikes.

Ah yes the body outlines. Makes sense that’d be the first thing to make Dipper speak up about his concerns.

Incidentally, while I had the video paused to type this, my partner (who is in the room while I’m working on this) said that this episode is “making (her) skin want to crawl away” I told her that this episode is kinda the shows first venture into proper horror but it’s not nearly as scary as some later episodes. (Weirdmageddon, I was thinking of Weirdmageddon.) Then she had a small crisis over this being a scary show designed for children. “Why are they trying to scare children?!” so I compared it to Coraline and that whole thing Neil Gamin said once about how “what a lot of adults experience as horror, children experience as adventure.” ...I’m not sure how much it helped.

So, these teens live in Gravity Falls...but don’t believe in haunting or, presumably other weird things. But we find out later the reason most people in Gravity Falls don’t believe in the supernatural is because of the Society of the Blind Eye. So like. Have these literal Children already had their minds erased sometimes? Or are they just...really lucky?

Tambry managed to update her status while trapped in the television?

Honestly in most situations, even supernatural ones, chucking the cash register at the glass doors would be a really good solution.

“They got Mabel!” ...poor Dipper. He’s already stressed out of his mind and then his sister goes from, you know, possibly overdosing on Smile Dip to being Possessed by a Ghost. That’s not...he’s really not having a good night.

“It Begins” you’ve...you’ve literally fucked over MOST of these teens already. This began several minutes ago.

Also, if this couple hates teens and therefore video games so much...why did their store even HAVE a dance machine?

FUCK that cracking sound when Mabel’s head twists around backwards. YIKES.

“Oh. Well. There it is.” ...this reminds me so much of the John Mulaney quote about “...well this might as well happen.”

Wendys face while Dipper was dancing is adorable. And the fact that Wendy lies about it for him is just. The best.

Also Mabel’s “I’m never going to eat or do anything ever again” has a vague DoesThisRemindYouOfAnything to it.

At least Wendy acknowledges what they went through was traumatizing. Even if she is, in typical Wendy fashion, awfully chill about the whole thing.

I also appreciate Mabel looking at her own writing and asking what kind of sick joke it is. Poor Mabel.

...also Stan gets...really passionate about his movies? Like. What seems like a standard love triangle related wedding interruption gets him to throw his TV out the window? He must *really* hate that character.

#gravity falls #cybird says things #the inconveniencing

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lostinthemazecalledmyhead · 6 years

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Imagine you found out that you have a sister, Sookie Stackhouse, unwillingly you fall into her world of supernatural creatures. Being a more advanced mindreader than Sookie, all supernatural eyes are on you. You’re a weapon, but will you make it out alive?

Part three Double heart

Part one (All your life) Part two (Stay in the dark) Part three (Double heart) Part four (Better dig two)

Word Count: 2236

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: Being back in Bon Temp you come across a connection you didn’t expect to find.

Previously: Alcide visited you at your house and told you that you needed to come back to Bon Temps with him.

It would be so wrong for you to say that you came along because Alcide is so persuasive. Why would that be so wrong you ask? Because you have morals of some kind. The kind that tells you that you should not just think about yourself. Okay, screw it! You came along because the thought of a supernatural adventure thrilled you. How many times have you re-watched Vampire diaries or Supernatural. This time it’s your time to kick some supernatural ass. And you’re doing ‘it’ again. Smiling sheepishly at your own thoughts. “You came back.” Sam greets you surprised. Not the kind of warm welcome you were hoping for. Alcide insisted on taking you here because he said the food is not better anywhere else. The food must be real crappy everywhere else then, for this to be the best food… You are not stupid. Alcide took you here because of Sookie. Your damned sister. Sitting down in the back of the bar flashes dance before your eyes. A vision. Having these visions is like watching tv, but in your mind. You’ve been shown images, video’s but also feelings. It doesn’t always clearly show what is about to happen, but putting together what is shown to you in your vision you mostly can figure things out. The image that is shown to you this time is a picture of Eric. He is somewhere in the woods and the feelings you are getting with this image are scared at first and then, passion? What? It sometimes happens that you interpret something wrong and this must be one of those times. Alcide sits down across from you. “So,” you say folding your hands underneath your chin. “what is it that you’re really up to?” “We’re here to see Sookie.” He tells you. You wave your hand at him. “Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” Does he really think you’re that dumb. “I mean what are you planning to use me for? Because I see a little of Eric in my future.” Alcide arches his dark eyebrow at you. “What are you talking about?” He asks confused. “She’s talking about a tall, blonde handsome man walking into her life.” Eric sits down next to Alcide. “Well if it isn’t the big bad wolf and the big bad vampire sharing a drink, thinking their deep thoughts and desires.” You say leaning back in your seat. Eric laughs. “She really is something, huh.” He tells Alcide, who is not amused at all. “I like her.” Eric adds looking at you. “Well color me blessed.” You scoff sarcastic. “Feisty too.” Eric notices. “That could come in handy.” Alcide turns to Eric. “What are you doing here?” Alcide growls. “To look at my new asset, of course.” Eric replies not once breaking his stare down that he is having with you. “I’m not some cow that you can just take in.” You tell Eric. “I’m more than that.” “Oh, you’re much more.” Eric agrees. “That’s why I want you so bad.” With a smile on your face you lean across the table towards Eric. “Oh, really?” You ask him teasingly. “How bad?” “I have a proposition for you.” Eric tells you, suddenly all business like. You hold up your hand, telling him to keep quiet. “Food first. Then I’ll listen.” You command him. Eric watches you and finally turns to Alcide. “Well, you hear the lady. Give her some food.” Alcide growls. He clearly despises Eric. Still he gets up to order some food. “Give me one reason to trust you instead of him.” You tell Eric hurried when Alcide is out of hearing range. “Honesty.” Eric tells you. “You’re a smart girl. It’s no use in lying to you. I won’t, but I can’t say the same for our hairy friend.” Pursing your lips you shrug. “Not really what I was looking for, but whatever.” You kick back resting your feet on Eric’s chair. “What were you looking for?” Eric asks genuinely interested. With pursed lips you smile amused. “Well wouldn’t the almighty vampire like to know.” Playing around with such powerful creatures may no be the brightest idea, but what is life without a risk. Before Eric could say something else Alcide returns with a hamburger and fries. “Jeez, I’m starving.” You tell him before digging your teeth into the burger. Feeling uncomfortable the men watch you devour the hamburger. “Well, talk.” You bid Eric after you ate the whole hamburger and he still hasn’t started his proposal. “I need someone to help me on a mission.” Eric tells you. Hello vagueness. You think still looking down at your fries. Which are not even that good by the way. “I’ll pay you richly.” He adds hoping to catch your interest. Instead you look up at him, with dead bored eyes. “So does my job.” Eric is speechless and you take a wild guess and say he is not very often. Not impressed you continue to eat your fries. You tap into Alcide and feel that he is delighted by the way you are treating Eric. “Better wipe that smirk off your mind, werewolf boy.” You tell Alcide in-between eating. Alcide coughs shocked that you read his mind, while Eric just smiles amused and even impressed. “Where are you staying?” Eric asks out of nowhere. “I’ll swing by later tonight and talk to you when werewolf boy isn’t around.” He just stole your nickname. Copyright... “Well Alcide dragged my ass over here and therefore, I have no place to stay, unless there is something I don’t know.” “I forgot. You can crash on my couch.” Alcide says. “Or you could stay at my house.” Eric says, making you raise your eyebrow at him. “You would have your own wing.” Eric’s mind is silent so you focus on him. It takes a lot of concentration, but you are able to catch a glimpse of something. “Fuck me sideways.” You blurt out without thinking. “You are sincere!” Your astonishment catches them off guard. “I think it’s time to go.” You stand up. Still a bit put off the men don’t move. “Well, Eric, are you dead or something?” Okay that may not have been the best question to ask someone who is actually dead. Do you seriously don’t have an off switch?

“That looks good on you.” Eric’s voice scares you to death. You thought you were alone in your guestroom. Wearing only your panties and an oversized Fangtasia t-shirt that he gave you. Your hair is worn down and you were just dancing around the huge room when Eric’s voice interrupted your music. “Ever heard of knocking?” You ask, not even the slightest bit of uncomfortable about your bareness.

“If I had knocked I would never have seen that move you made.” Eric tells you grinning. Smiling devilishly you turn up the music and grab his hand. “Knocking wouldn’t have made a difference, corpse.” Alcide got his nickname, now it’s only fair to give Eric one too. Adoring Eric looks down on you while your bodies move to the rhythm of the music. “I’m not going to sleep with you.” You tell him out of the blue.

“You really are remarkable at mind reading. I never met anyone who could read a vampires mind so easily.” Eric tells you astound.

“Oh, I didn’t need to read your mind to know what you were thinking.” You tell him satisfied. Bon Temps was maybe not so bad after all. You are, after all, having fun.

“Devilish.” Eric remarks

“I would love to say ‘that’s me’, but unfortunately I would be lying if I did.” You say. Eric turns down the volume. “What do you mean unfortunately?” He asks curious. “I don’t know why I’m even telling you.” You say and shrug. “But I always dreamt of being something like I am becoming right now. A heroine in a story to be written down and read by thousands of hungry eyes, wishing for the possibility of experiencing the same thing. I’m sick of sitting in my small office reading cases and searching through laws to find a loophole, which may surprise you do exist.”

“You are a lawyer?” Eric asks you uncertain. You just nod. “Has someone ever told you, you are nothing like your sister?” Eric asks as if you have known your sister your whole life.

“I have, but how so?” You are starting to get curious as to why you are nothing like her. The both of you sit down on the end of the bed. “You’re educated, a risk taker, out-going, bubbly and just ..different.” Eric’s remark makes you smile. Whether or not he meant is as a compliment, you are definitely taking it that way.

“Why do you hate your life so much?” Eric asks surprising you. That is a way you never really thought of it. Did you really hate your life? It’s a tough question. “What happened to make you resent normal life?”

In your head you are discussing whether or not you should tell Eric.But in the end you are still not sure. “I don’t know, it’s stupid.” You say.

Half-heartedly you hoped he would drop the matter, but he doesn’t care for the fact that you don’t feel like sharing your inner thoughts. “I’m a really good listener.” He pushes.

Giving in you sigh. Whatever. “A few years ago I was dating Chuck, a tanned biker who used to live on the farm with his parents. I don’t really know what business he had with his biker gang, but he never talked about that.”

“So, he was a bad guy?” Eric asks.

You nod. “I guess I liked the mystery around him and the fact that he was a bad guy intrigued me in a way. Apparently I have a weak for the bad guy.” You tell him not realizing who you are talking to. With a charismatic smile and puppy eyes Eric looks down on you, making you realize what kind of effect your words now have on him. In his ears all he heard was: ‘I have a weak for you, Eric.’

“So what happened?”

“One day, he came home and he rolled up is sleeve. I never expected things to escalate so quickly, but it did. And I never meant for things to become that way, but I guess he decided for me that it should. There were two little hearts on my rodeo man. He practically slipped a ring right on my finger.”

“He wanted to marry you?” Eric asks uncertain.

“Chuck didn’t say it with those exact word, but he tattooed two hearts on his shoulder. And at that moment I realized something. There was no way in hell that I was going to stay at home to watch the children and be a good housewife. I haven’t lived my life yet. All those years I was only alive, not actually living life. That’s why I left him with skid marks and a double heart.”

Eric chuckles. “A double heart.”

“Why is this funny to you?” You ask feeling a bit insulted.

“It’s just so beautiful the way your mind works.” He says, confusing you. “You left a guy because you were not satisfied with yourself.”

Feeling attacked you stand up. You could have chosen to say something nasty in return, there were plenty of things you could say, but you decide not to. Attacking back would only make you look worse. “What are you getting at, Eric?” You ask instead.

Eric rises to his feet. “It’s not an insult, sweets.” He assures you. Your eyes lock and Eric bends his face towards yours. Is he going to do what you think he is going to do? “What the hell are you doing?” You ask him not moving an inch. He pulls back looking at you. “Well, kissing you of course.”

“Did something in my story give you the idea that it was okay to do so?” You ask him. Was there something in your story you hadn’t realized made you seem cheap?

“Never mind.” Eric’s demeanor seems to change a bit. “The sun is about to rise, I’ve got to go.” With these words he leaves you wondering what went wrong. You go to bed and fall asleep quickly while the sun slowly rises. Stepping into a dream world you begin seeing things. Not dreams, though it could be mistaken for a dream by someone who doesn’t know any better. You see a body ignite and burn until there is nothing left, but black crisp. Eric. Wide awake you sit up straight in the bed that is way too big for you. Something is going to happen and you know it. Not only have you seen someone burn to death, but you could also feel it in your gut. And if there is one thing you’ve learned it’s to always trust your gut feeling. “Why does he has to have such a goddamned big place.” You curse while flying out the room into the big hall. Clutching your hands around your arms you focus on trying to get a premonition. A faint flash of someone throwing in a Molotov cocktail dances before your eyes. Rushing down the big stairs you run outside the door. You need to stop them before they do it. On your bare feet you run across the grit, hurting your feet, but right now you don’t feel the pain. Adrenaline rushes through your veins. The sound of breaking glass draws your attention. It has happened. You’re too late.

#True blood #tb #true blood imagine #tb imagine #Sookie stackhouse #sookie stackhouse imagine #sookie imagine #eric northman #eric northman imagine #eric imagine #Alcide Herveaux #alcide imagine #alcide herveaux imagine #imagine #sam #sam merlotte #sam merlotte imagine #sam imagine

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