#the whole thing feels redundant i don’t really get anything in the end i either get frustrated or get spoken over | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luxshine · 3 years

Text

“Yo a ti, Cas” Or how mexican dubbing gripped us tight and raised us from Despair.

Ok. So I promised a big meta about the dubbing thing and so while I don’t have all the answers YET, here’s a bit of perspective on the differences between Despair and The Truth.

First, a little background. I am a former professional dubbing translator. While I worked on anime series from Japanese to Spanish, rather than in live action ones from English to Spanish, the process is not that different. Also, I worked in Mexico, where Supernatural is dubbed, so that’s why I can make the assumptions I make. Finally, my specialization in college was translation from English to Spanish, so I guess I know what the hell I’m talking about.

So let’s start on HOW you translate something for a dub. Back in the day, you got a ton of VHS tapes with the episodes on them with time codes, and, if you were lucky, a shooting script. This is to say, it was not a transcript of the actual words said in the episode, but the script BEFORE the actors, directors, and everyone else had a hand on what was said and changed. And thus, anything adlibbed? Is not going to be in that script which, at least for the anime side of things? Was a nightmare as the script was usually “And here X actor can say whatever they want” and I had to go and listen to the scene ten thousand times. Now a days, you get either a video file or a streaming link, and sometimes, the shooting script. If you get a script, btw, you can also not get a script in the original language. I know that the person who had to translate Sprited Away to Spanish was working off a German script, not the Japanese one. So yeah, some things can be lost in translation there.

THEN you get to translate. BUT you can’t just translate word by word. You have to adapt it so that it will sound like something a person will say, and sometimes, literally is not the way to do it. And in particular, Mexican dubbing has a reputation to uphold as the “Neutral” dub that is send to most Spanish-speaking countries in Latin America, so we can’t use certain words (I don’t have the list at hand, but I remember that I couldn’t use “Llanta” for Tire, and so I had to use “Neumatico”. And no “sweaters” or “hotcakes” or stuff like that), AND we have to match the lips of the original video. Which is like, the worst nightmare ever because of what we call “labiales”, that is to say, the letters where lips close.

I can’t tell you how much we all loved when a character gave a long winded speech with their back to the camera due to those damned closed lip letters.

All this is to say that sometimes, the line could be “We are all in this together for good or bad”, and the translation become something more like “Estamos en esto, por las buenas o las malas” (We’re on this, the good way or the bad way) or “Estamos juntos en las buenas y en las malas” (We’re together in the good and the bad), depending on the translator, dub director, and voice actor.

Depending on the client, that is, the original owner of the series, sometimes they will review the translation once it’s all dubbed and edited. I know that in the Avengers movie, a Disney rep was present on the cabin and forbade any changes from the script, which resulted on a couple of awkward lines in the end result. I don’t know if that’s the case for Supernatural, but I honestly doubt it. Still, translators can’t make huge changes for the dialogue. One couldn’t just ADD a relationship that wasn’t there, no matter what.

(As an aside, due to the very conservative mindset of some tv stations, it’s more common that gay relationships become more ambiguous, by changing “I love you” to “Te quiero” which can be more of a filial love than a romantic one. And well, that one case in Sailor Moon where a gay character was changed into a woman because the dub director honestly thought the character was a woman. But that was in the nineties)

Now, let’s go to how Castiel’s speech was translated.

The original, according to Superwiki, went like this:

Castiel: You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know. You know, ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me, Dean.

Dean: Why does this sound like a goodbye? Castiel: Because it is. I love you. Dean: Don't do this, Cas. Cas.

And the translation, as it was aired, went like this (And people, you have no idea the war flashbacks transcribing this gave me, so I hope you appreciate it):

Castiel: Eres el hombre mas amoroso sobre la Tierra. Un hombre sin egoismo; el hombre mas generoso que haya visto, y que jamas vere. Sabes que desde que nos conocimos y desde que te saque del infierno, el conocerte me ha cambiado. Porque a ti te importa. Y a mi me importa. Me importas tu. Y me importa Sam, me importa Jack, me importa todo el mundo. Y fue por ti. Tu me cambiaste, Dean.

Dean: Porque suena esto a despedida?

Castiel: Porque asi fue. Te amo.

Dean: Yo a ti, Cas. (The empty appears and Billie opens the door) Cas…

Castiel: Adios Dean

Dean: No!

Ok. So… At first glance, they’re pretty much the same until we get to the I love you. BUT let’s dissect it a little bit.

Cas begins with a “Eres el hombre mas amoroso sobre la Tierra” which is not how I would’ve translated “The most caring man on Earth” since “caring” is more like “Cariñoso” rather than “amoroso” which would be “loving”, and yes, there’s a difference. Plus, “el hombre mas amoroso” sounds a bit clunky, so Personally, I’d have gone with “Eres el hombre mas cariñoso en la Tierra”, that would’ve given us more time for the rest of the speech, but I wonder if the translator choice for Amoroso instead was more due to the fact that “amor” (love) is more clearly romantic than “care” (cariño, in a sense, more on this later) and so it foreshadows the end.

Again, with the literal clunkyness we have “Un hombre sin egoismo” (A man without egoism) which sounds weird no matter what language you speak, and it should’ve been “Un hombre dadivoso” (A giving man) or “un hombre desinteresado” (a selfless man) although the second could be mis-construed as “a man without interests” so “dadivoso” would’ve better. But the more puzzling is that the Spanish separates the selfless man from the next, which is REALLY confusing as the English is “the most loving man”, which would be “el hombre mas amoroso” making it quite redundant, so the Spanish changes it to “the most generous man”, “el hombre mas generoso”. To add to this, Cas continues with “that I have seen and I will ever see” instead of “That I know”, because it’s far more poetic. And loving.

So yeah, Mexican Cas is basically saying that Dean Winchester is made of love and puppies.

Ahem.

The next part “You know, ever since I pulled you out of hell, you’ve changed me” is more or less word for word, and the only thing that changes is that the English sounds more like a question and the Spanish one is an affirmation. YOU KNOW that ever since I pulled you out of hell, you changed me.” Little verb tense play, that doesn't change much except Cas’s resolution to say what he has to say.

And then we get to the part that made me squeal out loud. Because we go from

“Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam. I cared about Jack. I cared about the whole world because of you”

“Porque a ti te importa. Y a mi me importa. Me importas tu. Y me importa Sam, me importa Jack, me importa todo el mundo.” Which at first glance is the same, but NOPE.

First change: The original is in past tense “I cared”. Spanish version is in present tense: “I care”.

Which is a little non important thing except when you remember that simple present means “immutable absolute truth that won’t change with time”

Second, the choice of word for care.

I mentioned before that Care can be Cariño, as in filial, non romantic love (Or romantic love pet name, as it can also be Darling. It’s one of THOSE words). Other translations for care include “cuidado” (as in attention, concern, keeping, and worry), and of course “interesarse” (Which also can be care), “preocuparse” (care, bother, trouble, mind, fuss), and yes, “importar” but “importar” ONLY translates to English as a verb as “import”, “matter” “amount to” and notice how none of those words include “love”.

Mexican Cas is not saying “you love the world, and so I do”. Mexican Cas is saying “The world matters to you, and thus it matters to me, but my feelings for the World (and Sam, and Jack) are not in the same league as my feelings for you.”

And then Dean asks “Why does this sound like a Goodbye”, just like in English, in present tense…

And Mexican Cas replies in PAST tense. “Porque asi fue”. And THIS is important because it means that everything he said before WAS the goodbye, and not what comes next. All the rest? Is in the past. “Because it was”. Not “Because it IS”. And the next part? Is their future.

I love you.

Te amo.

Simple present. No ambiguity like “te quiero”. Spanish Te amo is for romantic love. Not brotherly, not family, not bro-mantic. ROMANTIC.

It’s like “I’m IN love with you” (Although that’d be “Estoy enamorado de ti” and I doubt that would’ve fit in the time Misha spoke)

And of course, the answer. “Yo a ti, Cas”. Not “And I, you” as I’ve seen it before (And I also thought it was, until transcribing the scene) but a simple “I, you, Cas.” Which ok, pretty cave-speak, but the meaning is pretty clear. Dean Winchester loves his gay angel.

It is also telling that the empty doesn’t appear until AFTER Dean confessed, so no, Mexican Cas is not “happy with the saying”, he had to get to the “happy with the having”.

And when Billy appears, it does seem as if he wants to say something more, but Cas is a love-sick selfsacrificing dumbass and so we all get our hearts broken.

I did get in contact with Dean Winchester’s mexican voice actor, and am waiting for answers to a small interview I did with him which includes the question “did that And I you, Cas” was in the script, and am trying to contact Castiel’s mexican voice actor. So I will be updating you on that. But I hope this clears up some of the questions about how Mexican dubbing made Destiel Canon :D

#dean deserved better #castiel deserved better #they silenced you #bi dean #supernatural mexican dubbing #y yo a ti #te amo #destiel #destielforever

10K notes · View notes

darkcircles4lyfe · 3 years

Text

Death to All Might, Rebirth to Yagi Toshinori

So about All Might. I’ve been extremely wary of talking about what could happen to him because straight up saying “I don’t think he’s gonna die” is asking the universe to spite me. Plus it also feels like a room full of people turning to stare at me as if I said the Sun isn’t a star. Man has death flags everywhere, I know.

But, okay, *Bill Nye voice* consider the following:

Mr. Yagi here, if he overheard everything, just received the final nail in the coffin on his career. His time as the symbol of peace is not only over, it was in fact partially responsible for the current state of things, since he once did so much on his own that his absence now makes heroes and civilians alike ill-prepared to cope. I think it was very apt for that one guy to be wearing an All Might shirt--he was acting as a mouthpiece for the latent societal problems embedded in All Might’s legacy.

We know already that he’s been feeling useless. I love this scene and although I’m not gonna talk about it right this second, remember what Aizawa says about just “being here” being enough:

And we know from conversations with Inko that Toshinori is also reframed his purpose around looking after Izuku. But in the end, Izuku rejected his help, and it was his classmates instead who were able to save him. Now the very progress of humanity is rejecting him too. You may me wondering how on Earth I don’t see the logical conclusion of all this being his death. Hold on. It actually has a lot to do with the fact that we’re all expecting it. Nighteye himself saw it, and despite any contrary convictions anyone might have, the plot doesn’t seem to be veering away from that end. All Might Is Gonna Die, says absolutely everything.

It’s occurring to me that I have previous experience with this kind of plotline that probably little to no one else in this fandom shares, being that I’ve read a certain book series in which the main character is told in no uncertain terms that he will die (no, I’m not talking about hp). The series in question is T*e Und*rland Chronicl*s (censoring so it doesn’t get put in their side of tumblr) and I’m sorry but I’m about to go on a shameless tangent about it and spoil the ending for you.

So in this series there is a prophecy in every book, each one having something to do with war and conflict, and so far all of them have been right. In the last book [mc] finds out that it’s prophesied that he will be killed. Lots of the things in the prophecies are convoluted and metaphorical, but no, this one literally says “when the [mc’s title] has been killed.” He spends the whole book coming to terms with this, and he gives into it, only to find himself waking up in the hospital instead. “Wow, plot twist. /s” you may be thinking, and yeah sure, the mc in a kids book survived, big shocker. But it doesn't end there. After the war, there are peace talks, but they escalate until the two sides are on the verge of declaring war again. And [mc], bless him, has just been caught in the middle of all of this the entire time. He’s sick as shit of fighting, of watching the suffering and death of people he cares about. He draws his sword against both of them angrily, gives a speech saying he won’t take a side, and then promptly breaks his sword across his knee: “There. [mc’s title in the prophecies] is dead. I killed him.” He’s giving a huge middle finger to everyone there, to the man who wrote the prophecies, to the entire fucked up culture of it all. And so something that was taken literally turns out to be metaphorical. That is, if you still believe in the prophecies at all.

Hopefully you’re catching my drift here. What I’m saying is, even though this other series has nothing to do with bnha, it goes to show sometimes it’s the most absolute certainties that are red herrings, and a “death” can consequently be a symbolic one. In All Might’s case, it could be the death of hero society and a rejection of his own past. In other words, character development for Toshinori himself that reflects on the way the world is changing, too. Also there’s the fact that the mc from that other series I’m trying not to name has an honorary title, and I’m imagining that role he occupied “dying” could correspond to something that amounts to, “All Might is dead. I (Yagi Toshinori) killed him.”

And here’s another thing: we also have to ask ourselves what good a dead Toshinori is to Izuku, narratively speaking. Yes, Izuku has spent his whole life idolizing even the more toxic parts of All Might, and his idealized vision of his hero does need to “die.” But how about Toshinori as a father figure? Izuku regretting that his last interaction with Toshinori was to reject his help may drive home the fact that he shouldn’t go off on his own, but at this point it’s kinda redundant. If anything it would negate some of the progress that was just made because it’d make him extra paranoid about losing other people too. To be honest, the whole “Uncle Ben” trope, the mentor/father figure who dies and gives the mc a reason to do better, is so tired. Experiencing the death of a loved one really doesn’t deserve to be romanticized like that. I might as well admit that I’m speaking from experience, and let me tell you, losing someone you love suddenly, when you weren’t around, and with unfinished business--it makes you paranoid as hell that it will happen again. It literally gives me nightmares. Y’all, I cannot stress enough that trauma does not equal character development. Granted, just because I know this doesn’t mean Horikoshi does, but in general he does seem to lead his characters toward healing.

Okay, back to the present. Toshinori is turning away from UA. He likely feels useless and rejected. We can infer that what happens next will involve Stain, and we have a couple of extra clues to go with it: Stain considers All Might a true hero, and has stated that he would let All Might kill him. And since Horikoshi loves his parallels, we also have this fight between Endeavor and this random villain who admires him so much that he wants to die by Endeavor’s hand:

This suggests a confrontation in which Stain challenges All Might to live up to himself as he once was, so that as a hero he can vanquish Stain and symbolically overcome society's perversion of that role. But based on what All Might has learned about the system he upheld, Stain is wrong. All Might is not a “true hero” in the sense that the societal issues Stain witnessed exist not in spite of All Might, but (in part) because of him, because he took too much of the responsibility for himself.

Stain probably had no idea about the personal cost of All Might’s lonely burden until after the fact. Maybe he’s seeing it now. So then perhaps the confrontation would be more about Stain claiming he’s just as fake as the rest. Either way, Toshinori has the opportunity to denounce himself and be rid of “All Might,” to stop living in his own shadow. Nighteye’s vision has been defied before, and I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the combination of society shifting + Toshinori’s own conviction is enough to do it again and work fate in his favor.

He is not All Might. He is Yagi Toshinori: quirkless, worn down, and directionless except for his dedication to Izuku. If he survives his interaction with Stain, he can resolve his imperfect mentorship by confessing about his shortcomings and simply supporting Izuku as a part of his family, not as his teacher (as Aizawa said, just “being there”). And that’s how you really get character development, for both of them. I mean, shit, imagine Toshinori straight up telling Izuku to stop calling him All Might.

#disclaimer: I have a lot of emotional investment in dadmight #so I am hella biased #but hopefully I also have some unique insight to share #all might #yagi toshinori #bnha #mha #bnha meta #bnha 325 #bnha 326 #lin speaks

574 notes · View notes

sunlight-moonrise · 4 years

Text

Sugar, Spice, and Everything (Not So) Nice (Reid Imagine)

Summary: Being a Barista and falling for a regular is as cliche as it gets. Having that customer become your new professor? Not so much.

A/N: *Peeks head out* Hello everyone. I have come back from my unannounced hiatus to show off this baby. Major thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog and @clean-bands-dirty-stories for helping me put this fic together. This was written for the lovely @httpnxtt for the secret-fic-swap in the Discord (thanks @imagining-in-the-margins.) I hope you all enjoy this smutty goodness.

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: Face Slapping, Degradation, Slight Hair Pulling, Oral Sex (male receiving), Fingering, Spanking, Penetrative Sex, Unprotected Sex/Creampie

Word Count: 6.4K

Masterlist

Being a barista is pretty awesome. Sure, there were bitchy customers and super early mornings but it had it’s redeeming perks. We got free coffee, tea, and snacks during our shifts, which served the caffeine addict in me. I also learned how to make popular lattes, mochas, and frappes that I ended up making at home for myself one too many times. While there were the occasional assholes who couldn’t appear human before getting their hands on some caffeine, there were the regulars who made it worth it. Most of the regulars were so sweet, I appreciated a familiar face when they came in. Some.. more than others.

“He’s baaaaaaaaack,” my coworker Hazel whispered to me in a sing-song voice as she scribbled a customer’s name on a cup. I turned to see who she was talking about, but I already had an inkling about who it was.

My suspicions were correct. I turned to see one of our kindest regulars, my personal favorite customer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Is it weird to know the full name -including the honorific- of a customer? Possibly. But when I’d asked for his name to write on his cup the first time he came in, he accidentally gave me his full name.

“Dr. Reid- uh, Spencer. Sorry, work habit.” He stuttered, avoiding my eyes after the mistake.

“No worries! What can I get started for you?”

As a Criminology major, I learned to study the people who catch my attention before indulging them. Call it an old habit.

Dr. Spencer Reid had earned his title and then some. He’d joined the FBI at only 22, having six degrees under his belt by the age of 27. He’d written several dissertations and co-wrote novels with his colleague, David Rossi. Someone with his reputation could be a pompous ass and have a leg to stand on, which is what made his humbled demeanor so much sweeter. He was also incredibly easy on the eyes, which was a nice little bow on top.

Hazel liked to joke about how we’d make a cute couple but I know she only did it to watch me get flustered.

I walked towards the counter to take his order, leaving Hazel with the task of refilling the caramel syrup. I’m always the one to help him since he very aptly pointed out that I’m the only one who makes his coffee just how he likes it.

Some days, he’d let me surprise him with a random creation. I’d confirm if he wanted caffeine (he always did), iced or not, and any flavor requests. He’d take his drink, tip me handsomely and let me know his thoughts on the drink the next time he came in. So far, his favorite was the almond milk honey latte I’d concocted. It was nice to have a little bit of fun, especially with regulars who were as consistent as him.

“Hey Doc, what can I get ya’?” I asked.

“The usual, please,” he said with a smile. I nodded and set off to make his drink: a venti dark roast with a shit ton of sugar, a dash of nutmeg, and a tiny bit of cinnamon.

“Of course!” I quickly go to fill his order, making sure to put a complimentary treat in a bag for him. I know he had the ultimate sweet tooth so I try to sneak him a confection whenever I can. At first, he was a bit reluctant to take the free pastries, but nowadays he usually smiles when he sees the small bag.

“Here ya’ go.” I handed him his steamy cup of caffeine along with the little treat, seeing him smile at the small pun I add to his cup, “Have a BREW-tiful day, Doctor!” I watched as his lips landed on the rim of the cup, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, the sight making my cheeks promptly flush. I cleared my throat before asking, “Is it good?”

“It’s always good when you make it,” he stated matter of factly, a small smile touching his lips. The heat in my cheeks rose again. “Will you be taking a course this summer?” he asked, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it. My first day is actually later today. I’m surprised the class section was open, to be honest.” Super surprised actually. I’d been trying to enroll in this class for the past couple of semesters but it was always full by the time I was able to even load the registration page.

“Well, I’ll wish you luck, but I’m sure you won’t need it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I can just tell.” He stated calmly, like it was common knowledge. I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. Before he could respond, an insistent cough caught both of our attention. I peeked over Spencer’s shoulder to see a customer waiting for his order to be taken. I turned my attention back to the Doctor, an annoyed look painted on my face. He nodded, taking a hint from the impatient mouth breather behind him.

“Thank you for the coffee. Enjoy the rest of your day. I hope that class goes well.”

“Bye, you too.” I waved, watching as he exited the door. I turned to the waiting customer, a bit miffed that he interrupted our conversation. But because I was at work, I plastered a fake smile on my face so that he wouldn’t see just how annoyed I was. “Welcome, how may I help you?”

●●●

After clocking out at 2:30 PM, I made a dash for the building where my class would be held. It’s not supposed to start for another half-hour, but I wanted to be sure to get there in time to choose a good seat and settle in before the rest of the class arrived.

Luckily room 301 was relatively empty so I was able to score a perfect seat by the window. I decided to kill some time by listening to some music and doodling randomly in my notebook. Some time had passed when I felt someone take the seat next to me. I turned to see a young man occupying the chair beside mine. He looked to be a frat boy based on the Greek letters he was sporting. Who wears a cap and hoodie in this weather? I really hope he didn’t expect to cheat off of me- although these types of guys always seem to do so.

I was about to return to my doodle when I felt a poke on my shoulder. I turned to give the offender my full attention, removing one of the earbuds from my ears.

“Hey, I’m Tony,” frat boy said, with a wide smile adorning his face. I must admit, his boyish grin melted the slight annoyance I had begun to stir toward him. I returned his greeting and introduced myself as well. “I don’t mean to be a bother,” he continued, “but I like to have at least one buddy in each of my classes. In case we need help or miss an assignment or something.”

I nodded my head - a friend in a class was always useful when it came to studying and swapping notes. We chatted a bit more, learning about each other’s major and why we both decided to take a summer course. Tony is a double major and this course will satisfy the credits he needs for his psychology requirement. This is why you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

It wasn’t until I heard the hush of the classroom that I realized the class was about to begin. I turned back to my notebook, preparing to jot down some important information despite it being the first day of class.

“Good morning class.” Wait. That voice... I didn’t even need to pick my head up to know who had spoken. “This is Criminal Psychology and I am your instructor, Doctor Spencer Reid. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe could not cover this course so I’ll be his permanent replacement. Now…”

I raised my head, watching as he continued to talk about what is to be expected in this course while a TA handed out the syllabus. He went on, able to capture the attention of everyone while speaking of the experiences he had with an array of criminals. His eyes scanned the room and for a brief moment I thought they would land on me, but they continued to take in the mass amount of students before him.

My concentration was broken by Tony passing me a copy of the syllabus. I scanned it over, making sure to highlight all the important dates. I didn’t want any exams or projects conflicting with my work schedule. I also made note of how the overall grade system is broken down. The whole thing seems pretty fair and everything was spaced out enough where I wouldn’t feel too overwhelmed with the workload.

“… and that pretty much wraps it up. Does anyone have any questions?” I tuned in just as he was pulling the first class to a close. No one raised their hands, so he dismissed us with a reminder to read the first chapter of the textbook and to check for any emails.

“So do you want to grab lunch?” Tony asked from beside me. I contemplated whether or not to go with him. He must have seen the hesitation in my face because he quickly added, “Not as a date or anything, I just wanted to grab a bite and I didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Sure,” I smiled, “Let me just ask the professor a quick question about his office hours and I’ll meet you at the food court.”

“Sweet, I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, Tony gathered his stuff and exited the back door.

I focused my attention on the podium, seeing a gaggle of girls surrounding him asking redundant questions. From what I could hear, their questions could have been answered if they’d read the syllabus. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, they were probably more focused on him rather than what he was saying during class. I waited a few more minutes for them to finish up before I made my way to him.

“So do I call you Doctor or Professor now?” I laughed.

“From you, I’d respond to either,” he replied warmly. The comment made me blush. If he looked into my eyes at that moment, he’d see more stars in them than the night sky. I bit my lip to stop the idiotic grin from spreading across my face.

He’s your professor, get a hold of yourself.

“How can I help?” he asked, bringing me back to the original reason as to why I was standing in front of him without a cash register between us.

I cleared my throat. “Um, I was wondering if it was possible to see you outside your normal office hours? I usually work the morning shifts and I don’t want to flood your emails with my questions.” I asked.

“Of course,” he said. “You can come to my office at whatever time works best for you. I know balancing a work and school schedule can be hard. Besides, I’m usually there handling paperwork anyway.” He gave a small shrug, pushing his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you so much. I look forward to the rest of the semester Professor Reid.” I liked the way his newfound honorific rolled off my tongue.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

“Goodbye, Professor.” With that, I left and headed out to meet Tony.

I was able to find him at the food court. We got some food and chatted more about our classes as well as life outside of school. He made it easy to be his friend, and it was nice having someone to talk to. He works as a waiter so we shared our customer service horror stories and tales of sneaking food at work. It was a nice distraction that took my mind off of Dr. Reid and the ongoing battle of calling him Doctor or Professor. As Tony rambled, my mind wandered about other things I’d like to call Spencer instead.

●●●

In that short span of two weeks, we already had an exam, an oral presentation, and a report on the psychoanalysis of serial killers. Not one day had been wasted, but this is what to be expected from a summer course. The essay was due the day before. Now we had to wait for our grades which gave us a moment to take a breath.

I was worried that my paper was subpar; especially since I chose to write about Andrei Chikatilo, a serial killer from Ukraine. He wasn’t as popular as those in America, so I ended up spending hours on deep research to find substantial information about his crimes. It also didn’t help that some of the original reports weren’t in English. I had worked hard, and hoped Professor Reid would see that, even if my writing could sometimes be a little weak. I was worried about the grade as our research papers held the weight of 20% of our final mark.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N! Anyone in there?” Hazel’s voice pierced through my worry bubble, her hand waving in front of my face. I shook my head, trying to focus on restocking the coffee beans.

“Sorry Haze, I’m thinking about this class.”

“Funny you say that; your favorite professor just walked in. Thought you might want to take his order.” She wagged her brows at me, making kissy faces as I hurried to the front register, trying my best to not let my eagerness be so glaringly obvious.

There he was, in his usual handsome glory, patiently waiting for me to take his order. He greeted me with a small smile that I happily returned.

“Hey Doc, what can I get you today?”

He debated for a moment before saying, “Surprise me.”

“Gotcha.” I already had an in my head; it’d been a while since he asked me to make him a random drink so I’d had plenty of time to plan. We got an early shipment of ingredients for our fall-themed drinks and I figured he would appreciate some pumpkin spice in his caffeine. “How are the papers coming along?” I asked casually as I rang him up.

“Pretty well. I’m almost done, so you’ll all receive your grades later today.” Wow, that was fast. I wondered if he stayed up reading all those papers to be done by today. Probably not, a TA must have helped him.

“I am a bit nervous about mine, especially since it’s worth a huge part of our final grade.” I really wanted to get an A in this course, but it was hard juggling everything in such a short amount of time.

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he reassured. “I haven’t properly finished yours yet but it looked great just from what I’ve seen thus far.” His words gave me a little reassurance.

“Thanks. I put a lot of effort into it. Let me grab your coffee now.” Spencer walked towards the pick-up station while I grabbed a venti cup for his drink. Just when I was about to make his order, I saw another familiar face come up to the register. “Tony, hey!” I shouted, placing the cup back down, “What can I get you?”

This was the first time he’d been here, despite him saying for the past few days that he’d stop by for a visit, even with the promise of a cake pop if he did. It was nice to see another familiar face.

“Hey coffee girl, how you doin’ today?”

“Just peachy. My feet are killing me, though.” Just saying the words caused the ache on the soles of my feet to spike higher. I thanked my lucky stars I was almost done with this eight-hour shift.

“Give me the chance to sweep you off your feet, I promise you won’t regret it.” he offered boldly. It wasn’t the first time he’d joked about taking me out. I laughed, especially since he had a girlfriend. She met us for lunch one day and we became fast friends- she was an incredibly sweet and intelligent girl, polite and elegant as well. It is a wonder how his frat boy charm won her over but opposites attract, I guess.

“Shut up, Casanova. What are you gonna have?”

“I’ll have a grande iced matcha latte, please.” I should’ve known. He told me that he loves matcha flavored food and drinks the first time we grabbed lunch after class. He had complained that there was no good place to get one on campus.

“Coming right up.” I quickly filled his order since it was faster to make compared to the pumpkin spiced latte. I handed him his bribe-cake pop, matcha flavor of course, while he waited for me to finish making his drink.

“By the way, we’re still studying at the library for the exam later tonight, right?” Tony asked.

“Yup, I’ll meet you at 8.”

“Copy that, see you later coffee girl.” He turned to leave while I turned to make Professor Reid’s order. I put extra whip cream and a bit more syrup to satiate his sweet tooth. I grabbed a fresh chocolate muffin from the display case and popped it into a bag for him as well, drawing yet another pun on the good doctors bag. “Thanks for being such a TEA-rrific professor!”

“Here ya’ go Doc,” I called out before placing his drink and muffin on the counter. I looked up to see him no longer smiling. “Is everything okay?”

Ignoring my question, he said, “I wasn’t aware you were so close to Mr. Montgomery.”

“Oh yeah, we study together once in a while.” I could have sworn I saw his frown deepen before his features became void of any emotions. He shifted his eyes downward, his hand moving rapidly to grab the cup.

“I should get going.”

“Oh, okay” Before I could say goodbye, he was already halfway out the door.

That was weird. I looked at the counter and noticed that he left the cupcake behind. Maybe he was in a rush?

I shook my head. I needed to concentrate on making it through the last couple of hours of work.

●●●

I made my way to the classroom, smiling at Tony as he pulled out my seat for me. Professor Reid walked in a few minutes later, his tall figure drawing all the attention to the center of the small stage. He let us know he already graded the papers and that they would be distributed by the TA before the end of class. I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach but decided to brush it off and pay attention in class. Despite my attempts to focus on his lecture, I found my mind wandering every so often anyway.

I couldn’t help but think he was less animated today. Usually, he taught with such passion that the class couldn’t take their eyes off him. But today, it felt as if we were all in a boring seminar with an ancient professor. Tony kept glancing at the clock, probably also wondering why time felt like it was going by so slowly.

I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling the entire class. It didn’t help matters that every time I would raise my hand to answer a question, he would call on another student. What the hell did I do?

I decided to tune out the rest of the class. There is no point in being an actively engaged student if I wasn’t going to get treated like one. I’d just get the notes from Tony later.

Thirty minutes before the end of class, the TA handed out our essays while Professor Reid wrapped.

“Some of you did very well, while a few others struggled with the assignment.” His eyes landed on mine as he said that. It was the first time he had glanced in my direction the whole class. He moved on to the other side of the room. My mind was probably just playing tricks on me. “If you have any questions you can see me at my office hours next week or send me an email. You are dismissed.”

The TA finally made his way over to me, handing my essay in a slight fold. I looked at the grade on top and almost dropped the paper. My heart sped up as I stared at the letter in bright red ink. No way, no way this could be my report. I looked at the right-hand corner and saw my name at the top. I read through the first page and saw they were indeed my words.

How the fuck was it possible that I got a D on this paper? I knew my writing wasn’t the strongest, but a D?

“How you’d do?” Tony asked. For a moment I forgot I was in a room with other people.

I cleared my throat, trying to relive the lump so that he didn’t hear the croak in my voice. “Umm, not what I expected. I’m going to try to speak to him about it.” Tony was a smart kid, so I was sure he could see how tense I was. Luckily he didn’t question me any further and instead told me he’d text me later before leaving the classroom.

Fortunately, there were no other students in the classroom to slow me down this time. I walked right up to the podium, watching as Professor Reid placed some papers in his satchel.

“Professor, I need to speak with you.”

“Not now, I’m busy,” he replied, not even bothering to glance in my direction. This can’t be real. The sweet, kind Doc could not be the man acting like a total asshole right now.

“I really need to discuss with you my paper,” I pressed, raising my voice a little louder in an attempt to get his attention. That was wishful thinking on my part since he continued to fiddle with his satchel.

“I said I’m busy,” he uttered once again, his voice void of any emotion. He was about to walk past me, ignoring my whole being. His blatant disregard made my cheeks burn, and not in the usual way they usually did when I was around him.

“Spencer,” I barked, “We need to talk. Now.” For a few moments, he stood in front of me, his back facing my direction.

I was about to speak again before I heard him say, “My office. Half an hour.” He exited, leaving me alone in an empty classroom. The only things keeping me company were the fuming feelings swirling inside me and the failed paper clutched at my fist.

●●●

I knocked on his office door ten minutes earlier than he’d told me. The anger in my gut brewed hotter the longer I waited. As soon as I heard a “Come in,” I rushed through the door, slamming it behind me. He regarded me coolly, but didn’t comment on my actions.

“What can I do for you Ms. (Y/L/N)?” I walked up to his large desk, not bothering to take a seat in the chair in front of me. I took a moment to calm myself down before replying.

“Well, you can start by explaining to me why I got such a low score on my paper.” I guess he didn’t like being the only one of us sitting down because he stood up and leaned against the wall behind him.

“It did not meet the requirements for a passing grade as outlined in the rubric. The information given was boring and the overall topic was uninteresting. It was tedious to get through,” he responded nonchalantly, like he was giving me a weather report.

“You said that you enjoyed it so far.” I rebutted, placing my hands on the desk. I needed something to offer me stability so that I wasn’t visibly shaking.

“I’d mistaken your work for another student’s. Maybe Mr. Montgomery,” he dryly clipped.

A bitter laugh escaped me as I put the puzzle together. Was- was he serious? Was this man acting like this because of Tony? The audacity! The laugh that bubbled from my lips must have unsettled him. He left his position from the wall in favor of standing in front of me.

“You want to know what I think?” I didn’t give him a chance to respond before continuing, “I think you’re jealous that I have another guy that isn’t you getting friendly with me at the shop and because of your inability to keep your---“

“That is enough,” he grounded out, shaking his head. But I didn’t stop talking.

“--private feelings away from your professional ones, you decided to give me a failing grade. Do you know how hard I worked in-” my voice rose up higher and higher until I was yelling.

“I said that’s enough,” he said again, louder this time. But I wasn’t done.

“-this class? This is my life, my fucking future on the line. I’ve told you how important this all is to me and you don’t even give a shit! You’re going to let your interpretation of my relationship with another student influence the way you do your job? And here I thought you were a decent man, Professor.” I hissed, “Do you even give a damn abo-”

“Enough,” he roared, slamming his hands on the desk and caging me against the wood. His breathing was matching the upbeat pace of my own. His quick movement and the sheer volume of his voice caught me off guard, effectively silencing me.

“I don’t deserve to be punished over your envy,” I whispered, locking eyes with him in a steady gaze.

“You want to see a real punishment, darling?” he hissed, the heat of his words almost breaking my glare, his breath fanning along my face.

We stared at one another for a while, neither of us willing to be the first to back down. The tension between us kept rising and rising until the inevitable happened. I couldn’t be sure who made the first move but before I knew it, our lips collided with a mix of rage and desperation. My arms draped around his neck as he pressed me on to the desk. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up high enough until I was perched on the cool wooden surface.

Spencer’s lips were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh way he was kissing me. His tongue parted my lips, gliding over mine with fervor. I couldn’t help but moan as he rolled his hips into me. He continued his rough grind, keeping my legs open as we moved as close together as our bodies would allow. He overwhelmed my senses- the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him. Everything was making me absolutely feral for this man.

I never expected the gentle Dr. Reid to be so fervent, so sensual. The kindhearted, sweet professor who regularly drank his weight in caffeine never gave me this impression. But then again, I’m sure he was shocked by my attitude as well. He knew me as the friendly, bubbly barista, now student, who enjoyed his class. He was about to meet a whole new side of me, just like I was going to for him.

Spencer pulled away from me, our mouths making an audible ‘pop’ sound from the sudden separation. I tried to catch my breath as he stared at me, our chests rising and falling together. If I were to move a bit closer to him, we would be touching once again.

He took a few steps back before motioning me to step in front of him. “I want you to get down on your knees. Now.” I wasn’t going to argue with him, mainly because I wanted the exact same thing he did. I kneeled down, keeping my eyes on his face.

“You going to shut me up, Professor?” I teased, feeling powerful, even though he was looming over me. He didn’t reply, just continued to look down on me with those honey colored eyes- full of lust and rage.

I watched as he slowly placed his hands on his slacks, undoing the belt and buttons. He drew down his pants and boxers at the same time, just low enough to reveal his impressive size. My mouth salivated at the sight of his bulge as he came closer to me.

“We’re going to put that smart mouth to better use. Open.” He said, gripping my face between his fingers, forcing me to follow his orders. I opened my mouth slightly, not giving him exactly what he wanted. Instead of ordering my mouth to open further like I expected, he placed his thumb inside. He pushed the digit deep, pressing it against my tongue. I moaned around the finger, softly nibbling at the skin. He continued to slide his finger within my mouth before dragging it out completely. He wiped the excess spit on my cheek before lightly smacking it. The small shock of pain sent a shiver down my spine.

“Open, and do it right this time.”

I obeyed, opening wide enough to accept him into my mouth. My lips were stretched almost uncomfortably in an attempt to fit around him. He was so hot and thick, I couldn’t help but hum at the taste of him on my tongue. The soft “fuck” that fell from his lips had me purring around him. I went to place my hands on the remaining portion that couldn’t fit, but he batted them away.

“You’re using only your mouth.”

Fine, have it your way, Sir.

I placed my hands behind me as I bobbed my head, hallowing my cheeks with every rise. His shallow thrusts encouraged me to suck harder. I slowly pulled away to run my tongue against the vein protruding on the underside of his cock. I was rewarded with a groan escaping his lips.

“I should have known that you would be so good at this, darling,” he said, his voice slightly hoarse as he tried to control his grunts.

I made sure to look in his eyes as I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock. The face he made was purely angelic. The muscles of his neck protruded more evidently and his breathing became more labored. I placed him back in my mouth, this time taking my time to go down on him.

“That’s right, Princess. Show me what a good girl you are for me.” He moaned as I felt his hands weave in my hair before he pushed my head down on to him, causing me to gag around him, tears pricking my eyes. He continued his thrusts into my mouth, barely allowing me a chance to breathe. My nose repeatedly touched the base of him as I swallowed around his hard length.

Spencer tightened his fingers in my hair and I knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The pace was brutal, but I enjoyed the rough treatment. Knowing that I was the one making him feel good was such a turn on. He buried himself deep in my throat after a few more thrusts to finish. I swallowed his release like the greedy brat that we both now knew I was.

He eventually pulled out, a satisfied sigh leaving his lips. I swiped the back off my hand across my mouth to clean off any leftover spit and cum.

“Get up,” he ordered, his voice hoarse.

I did so, rubbing the ache in my knees as I slowly rose. “I want you bent over the desk,” he continued.

“I want you to answer my previous question.” I quipped.

“You’re not in the position to be making commands,” he growled. He wrapped his fingers in my hair again, pulling just roughly enough so that I was looking up at his face. “If you want this to end well for you, I suggest bending over my desk before I stuff my cock in that bratty little mouth of yours again.”

He released me, eyes still on my face waiting for me to follow through on his order. I turned to his desk and did as he asked, bending over the wood until my chest laid flat against the surface. I waited as patiently as I could for him. It felt as if I was in this position for an eternity before he touched me. He pushed both my underwear and skirt down to my knees before placing his hands on my hips. I heard it before I felt it- the smack on my ass that caused me to yelp.

“Fuck, Spencer. What the—” I was cut off with another resounding smack.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to give you a real punishment, darling?” I took a deep breath as another shiver went down my spine. He had no business sounding so hot right now. Another smack, this time on my opposite cheek, had me biting down on my lip to stop myself from crying out.

“This” *SMACK* “Is” *SMACK* “What” *SMACK* “Happens” *SMACK* “To” *SMACK* “Bratty” *SMACK* “Little” *SMACK* “Girls” *SMACK*. A sob ripped from my chest as the last blow landed. My ass was on fire and surely littered with his hand prints.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood since you sucked me off so nicely, or I would have made that worse.”

Gee, thanks.

“You look like such a dirty slut like this.” I felt a finger enter me easily, the wetness gathered there making my entrance ready to take him. “So wet. Was it the spanking that got you like this, or your mouth around my cock?” A moan was my only reply as he added another finger, the two digits moving in a scissoring motion.

“Are you gonna be my sweet girl, now?” He asked as I moved my hips along his fingers, desperately trying to seek some more relief for the fire burning between my thighs as his mouth littered marks along my thighs. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me as he curled his fingers, a slow moan falling from my lips. He pulled them out of me, wiping the slickness against my still burning ass. Fucking bastard. I wiggled my hips against him, hoping he would grant me a reprieve and put his fingers back inside me. Instead, he spanked my ass one more time- one quick, sharp blow against the bruised cheek.

Just when I was about to yell at him, he placed the head of his member against my entrance. He moved up and down my drenched entrance before penetrating me in one full thrust. I took a short breath in, trying to get used to feeling so full. He was stretching me out in the most amazing way.

Spencer waited until I was grinding against him before he pulled out and pushed back into me. “Look at you, such a wanton little bitch aren’t you?” He could call me whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop fucking me.

He kept a steady pace, making sure to grind into me every time he slammed back in. The obscene sound of our skin smacking against one another’s and the moans escaping our throats was an erotic symphony that had my body heat raising the temperature in the room.

He hitched my leg on top of the desk, entering in an angle that made the pleasure so much better. I couldn’t stop the whines that kept escaping my mouth every time he pounded into me. His hand stayed upon my leg, holding me down and limiting my movements. His nails dug into the skin so harshly I was sure there would be bruises left in their wake.

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he hissed under his breath. “Should have known you just needed to be fucked like the cheap whore you are.” He sped up, hips snapping at an almost punishing pace. The desk creaked every time he slammed into me. I hoped no one was nearby to hear what was going on. A whine left my throat when I felt his fingers rub against my clit. I was so close now.

“Should I stay inside you? Fill you up so you walk around campus carrying my child?” He growls, his pace increasing with each passing moment. “Knock you up so the whole campus knows what a whore you are for me?” He asks, earning a cry ripped from my throat.

“Who’s fucking you?” he grunted. I don’t know how he expected me to form a coherent statement at this current moment. My eyes could barely stay open at this point.

“Spencer, please.” He smacked the outside of my thigh.

“Try again, who’s fucking you?”

“You are, Doctor.” Apparently, that was the wrong answer too, because it earned me another smack on my thigh. I had tears streaming down my face from the pleasurable pain he was giving me.

“You have one more chance or else I’m not letting you come. Now, who’s is fucking you?”

“Professor Reid!” I cried out.

“That’s right darling. Now come on my cock.” A harsh bite on my neck was the ultimate push that had me seeing stars. Spencer thrusted a few more times before fully sheathing himself within me.

He slumped over me, the feel of his breath against my neck causing me to shiver once more. We took a moment to have the high leave our body before he pulled out of me, a gasp leaving the both of us. Spencer was the first to break the silence between us.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice a bit shy.

I giggled at his demeanor. A few moments ago, he was fucking me senseless and spanking me over his desk like a porno, and now he was asking me out to dinner.

“Absolutely,” I smiled. “But I should probably cancel my study plans.” I quickly added.

He led me to the faculty bathroom so I could freshen myself up. When I emerged, he was back to being the prim and proper professor I knew him to be. Just before we left his office, he leaned down and whispered, “By the way, you got an A.”

2K notes · View notes

amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Hogwarts AU (Haikyuu!!)

feat. Kita Shinsuke

Previously: Miya Atsumu. Miya Osamu.

Masterlist link here

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff

A/N: Any other characters you’d like to see? Send me an ask!

You knew of Kita Shinsuke, certainly - at least from your gigging girlfriends.

He’s known for his stellar grades (second only to your own) and his reserve position as the keeper on the Hufflepuff team.

You found him serious and studious when you partnered with him once or twice in class.

But otherwise, you weren’t well acquainted with him.

That all changed when you were appointed head boy and head girl respectively, and had to share an office for prefectorial duties.

‘Shall I get started on the disciplinary reports due this week, or draft the allocation of duties for the month?’ You ask him when you met him to split up the work for the first time.

‘Neither, I’ve done them both’, he replies curtly. A stack of reports in his neat, square handwriting drops in your lap.

‘Oh’, you say lamely, feeling a little redundant. ‘Is there anything else I can help you with then?’

He shakes his head, a clear dismissal as he turns back to his work.

He’s too high-handed, you complain to your friends. He takes charge of all briefings, tries to refuse your help for most tasks, only accepting when you archly remind him that you’re his peer, not his subordinate.

He’s infuriating, you continue to complain. He doesn’t have a spark of humour in his eyes when you try to joke around with him, he’s stern and harsh with the other prefects, who all end up protesting to you. And worst of all - his grades are catching up to yours, slowly, steadily - your pride doesn’t appreciate him nipping at your heels.

You don’t dislike him. But you don’t like him either.

That is - until you’re two months into your final year, and you’re off on a solo round one night.

Your mind was full of the entrance requirements for the Healer course that was just released this evening that you completely forgot where you were (the side staircase between the ground floor and the second floor is tricky, even the first years know that) and stuck your foot right into the vanishing stair.

It’s a full moon tonight. Your foot is stuck in the stair. All incontrovertible facts. It’s so late that you’ve long given up hope of anyone rescuing you until dawn, so you crouch on the stairs, head huddled in your arms, prepared to camp here until dawn.

Anyone, that is - save for one Kita Shinsuke.

He clears his throat, rousing you from your nap, and though you glance up with hope, you end up deflating when you realise it’s him.

‘You didn’t report back after your round’, he says, the faintest shadow of a smile on his face as he looks down on you, uniform rumpled, eyes heavy with sleep.

‘I kinda got stuck’, you admit, letting him pull you up, and you mutter a resentful thanks when he frees you from the accursed stairs.

‘I can see that’, he chuckles, and you blink owlishly.

Kita Shinsuke, laughing? You must be hallucinating.

Still, for all his flaws, he’s a gentleman, insisting on walking you back to Ravenclaw tower. It’s such a shock to your system to find that he’s actually human that you find the courage to voice out your long held complaint that he’s not letting you do enough work, that it makes you feel redundant.

He apologises earnestly. ‘I didn’t mean to do that - I’ve been so used to just tryin’ to do everythin’ by myself that I forget I’ve a partner to help me with this’.

You accept his apology with a laugh, wishing him farewell and goodnight.

As you get ready for bed, your face heats up for some reason when you think about him referring to you as his partner. You’re glad he didn't pick up on it.

------------------------------------

That marks a turning point in your relationship with him.

True to his word, Kita starts to treat you like his partner in all prefectorial tasks, splitting all tasks equally with you, seeking your counsel when he needs to. And you start to see why your friends giggled helplessly when you told them that he would be head boy, and would share an office with you.

‘He’s hot!’ They protested, when you scolded them for being silly twits.

And now, you have to agree - staring shamelessly at the sight of his broad shoulders filling out his quidditch uniform, his light grey hair tousled in the wind as he glides gracefully down on his broom towards you.

‘Yachi-san forgot to get you to sign the report’, you tell him, waving the sheaf of papers at him. ‘And don’t scold her, she’s still terrified of you’.

The younger girl still shakes whenever Kita speaks to her, and she even begged you on her knees to seek him out in her stead. You should be the one thanking her, you think amusedly, appreciating the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the proud curve of his neck as he signs the documents, giving you a wave as he returns back to practice.

Then you discover he’s not as heartless as his demeanor led you to believe.

‘Kita, what are on earth are you doing?’ You gasp at the sight before you.

You heard some rustling in an empty classroom, and assuming it to be another amorous couple getting frisky (you would turn a blind eye, really but you’ve had to clean up after them far too many times for you to have lost your patience by now), you kicked the door open, only to be greeted by the absolutely adorable sight Kita Shinsuke surrounded by a whole gaggle of younger students seated in a circle around him. The younger kids giggle, and even Kita breaks into a smile.

It turns out he’s been tutoring the weakest students in his downtime because, as he says - magic is hard for those not born into it, like him. Refusing to be left out, you join him in these tutoring sessions, cajoling him to hold it in your office, magicking up beanbags and cushions to make the entire tutoring session a much more comfortable affair.

‘Well done!’ he exclaims in excitement as the shyest first year succeeds in casting a wingardium leviosa for the first time.

‘Good work!’ he tells another second year approvingly, as she shows him her top marks for her transfiguration essay.

Watching him take the whole brood of younger kids under his wing makes you look at him in a different light - a softer light, for the first time.

------------------------------------

‘Would you like to go to Hogsmeade together?’ you ask him after a prefects’ meeting, as you walk back to your office together to gather your things. You’ve practised far too long in front of the mirror to channel your inner Gryffindor (even though you’re at heart, a studious Ravenclaw) to mess this up.

‘Sure’, he responds without skipping a beat, and you grin, fist pumping behind his back.

But when you turn up at Hogsmeade, the entire batch of final year prefects is there too.

‘It was a good idea to have a batch outing’, Kita says, as he turns around to chat with Kiyoko from Gryffindor.

Kuroo from Slytherin, who you hear would’ve been head boy if Kita didn’t beat him out, grins knowingly as he notices the lip gloss you used specially for this occasion, and even kind, funny Aran from Gryffindor bumps your shoulder sympathetically as you look utterly downcast for the rest of the afternoon.

------------------------------------

You’re a Ravenclaw, for Merlin’s sake, so you take a hint, lick your injured pride, and stop any further romantic overtures towards one Kita Shinsuke.

But when you notice his eyes growing tired, his hand faltering over another report he should’ve delegated to someone else, you shoo him stubbornly out of the office, pertly telling him it’s time to take his own advice and rest - or you’ll write to his grandma, and see if she doesn’t send him a howler to take care of himself. When he’s gone, you promptly take over the report, and in complete defiance of your own words to him, you keep yourself up all night finishing not just that report, but the rest of the reports on his plate for the week.

It’s what a friend would do, you tell yourself, gritting your teeth and setting your quill viciously on an accounting report that bloody Daishou managed to push off to Kita instead of doing it himself.

It’s dawn by the time you faceplant into the stack of reports you managed to plow through.

‘Et tu, brutus’, he mutters when he finds you asleep on the desk the next morning, head still pillowed on the mountain of reports. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he gazes down at you, laughing softly when you shy away from his attempts to wake you.

‘Kita?’ you mumble, when he finally takes hold of your shoulder and gently shakes you awake. ‘Didn’t I tell you to go to sleep?’

Wait a minute. Is it morning already?

You jolt awake, swiping the drool collecting at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, flushing red in embarrassment at cool, collected Kita catching you like this. This is a bloody nightmare - you grab at your things, making hurried excuses to leave the room when he catches your wrist.

‘Would ya want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?’

‘With the rest of the prefects?’ you mumble shamefacedly, not even noticing that he doesn’t let go of your hand. ‘Sure, I guess.’

Kita laughs again. Twice in a day, you note distractedly. Did you miss something in Astronomy class about the stars aligning with Jupiter or something?

‘Nope, just with me.’ He tugs you towards him, standing so close your ears flame bright red. You’re sure that if he takes a step closer, your ears might explode.

‘Kita?’ you stammer, unsure if you’re awake or lost in your dreams.

‘I owe you an apology’, he says, eyes trained on your lips.

It definitely isn’t a dream because oh Merlin you can feel his breath fan against your lips.

‘I only realised you were askin’ me on a date the last time after Aran set me straight. And I’ve been waitin’ for the right moment to ask you out to set matters straight.’

‘You don’t have to - ‘ you squeak, but your words are swallowed by his mouth slanting hungrily against yours and oh gods you’re one of those couples you have to book for making out in school, aren’t you - but does it count if you’re doing it in the head prefects’ office - and wait, does this mean you have to book yourself -

Then you lose all train of thought when Kita swipes his tongue into the seam of your mouth. Clinging to him for dear life, you tangle your fingers in his hair.

‘I want to’, he promises, when you separate for breath.

Your mind is still blank as you nod dumbly, agreeing to meet him at the Great Hall next weekend. You’re still touching your swollen lips, completely distracted that you don’t even notice the squeals and whispers in the corridors when he walks you to class, hand in hand.

#haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu romance #haikyuu angst #kita shinsuke x reader #inarizaki #kita x reader #kita x y/n #kita shinsuke #hogwarts au #haikyuu headcanons #hq writing #haikyuu writing #haikyuu fic rec

608 notes · View notes

jawabear · 3 years

Text

1 of 10 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Not my GIF (look at this man...)

A/N: so here’s that Bucky fic I’ve been talking about. This took me too long to write but I like it? I’m absolutely loving Falcon and The Winter Soldier! I’ve mentioned this before but Bucky Barnes is my all time favourite fictional character. This is set before the events of episode one but maybe like a week or so before. I hope you enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: fem!reader, tfatws spoilers, Bucky being awkward, nightmares, therapy, Bucky isn’t as smooth as he was in the 40s but he’s still cute

Summary: Bucky has ten contacts in his phone. One of which belongs the the girl he feels he has been searching for for 106 long years.

The times in which he found himself now were more than confusing. But that was the best way Bucky could think to describe them. For him though it seemed a lot worse than for others. For others, they had a gap of five years missing. For Bucky, he had far more than that.

From 1943 to 2023 there was a lot missing. He remembered it however. He remembered everything. The good, the bad, and the horrifying. What was meant by missing was that it wasn’t him who was living. He had missed out on living between those years. He had missed out on everything. And he knew, like the billions of others, he would never get those years back.

But now he was a civilian. Working to make amends from his past after being given a pardon. However, settling into his new easy life was proving far from that. It had been a few months now since the whole ordeal with saving the blipped half of humanity, Bucky included, and it had been a few months now since Steve went back in time and started a new life leaving him and Sam behind.

Sam. Right.

Sam was an avenger. More so than Bucky could ever be. So he was off doing his avenging work while Steve’s shield gathered dust in a wardrobe somewhere he was sure. Sam didn’t have it in him to take up the mantle of Captain America. He felt the shield belonged to someone else. It was Steve’s. It only ever could be.

More often than perhaps Bucky would like, he would get texts from Sam. Asking him how he was and telling him about missions he was going on. Bucky never replied. He didn’t know how to half the time and he didn’t want to.

He didn’t know how he was. He didn’t know if he was okay. He was forced to go see a therapist but all he did was lie to her.

“Have you had any nightmares recently?” She would ask him.

Bucky would think back to the night before their meeting and all the others as well. Each night he’d have to be faced with the horrors of his past. Every mission he carried out. Every person he carelessly killed.

“No” he would answer. And it wasn’t like he was wrong in his answer. The things he saw in his sleep were not nightmares they were memories. The nightmarish horrors he was were his reality, so when he said no in response to her question, he found it difficult to be accused of lying.

There were few things he could agree with her about. But the one thing he could see eye to eye with her about was the fact he was alone.

Sure, he had Sam. But only when Bucky wanted to acknowledge him which had not been often as of recently. And as his therapist so kindly pointed out he only had ten contacts on his phone. But in his defence, he still wasn’t used to the whole world of mobile communications and internet. So his phone was basically redundant to him. His mind was still in the 1940s where you’d find a date, what would now be classed as, the old fashioned way. By looking in person and talking. Not just texting or swiping left or right on an app.

Granted, Bucky did try his hand in online dating but it was far too much for him. It wasn’t only hard for him to figure out but also he saw too much of people he didn’t even know. The openness of the internet was something that was mind boggling to him. So that was thrown out of the window pretty quickly.

But what his therapist had failed to note was one name in his contacts. The name of his neighbour and quite possibly the one he wanted to end his loneliness with.

Back in his time, when he didn’t just have the looks of someone in their 20s, Bucky was in fact quite popular and good with the ladies. But the ladies, he found, of this new age were completely different to the ones of his time. Not that there was a problem, he just knew that he couldn’t used the same moves now as what he could back then.

He met (Y/N), his neighbour, as he was first moving in. After coming back, loosing Steve and getting a pardon, Bucky thought it be best to try and start a new. He did that by moving back to his old home of Brooklyn. His old apartment was obviously gone and with little money to his name he couldn’t afford the one that replaced it. It was far to big for him anyway. But he managed to find a smaller more affordable one and he much preferred it. If not only for the quieter location then the others in the building too.

(Y/N) was the first person he spoke too when back in Brooklyn. She was sweet and kind when introducing herself. She offered to help him move in but he really didn’t have that much stuff to use in making his new apartment more homely. And he had no food either. So (Y/N) did the neighbourly thing and invited him in for some food. A meal of sorts although she didn’t have much food either at the time. Even so, it was nice for him to be in company for once. And it was such warm company. They didn’t speak about much but he learnt a few things about her.

And now, on most Thursday evenings, he’ll find himself with her in her apartment eating a meal, sometimes she’ll cook, sometimes they’ll order take out, but he enjoys it regardless.

It was clear from the offset that she knew who he was. He frantically explained to her that he wasn’t what he used to be anymore and explained the terms of his pardon and how he’s making amends. But he needn’t have waste his breath on it. She didn’t seem to care about it. About who he used to be. She told him that she doesn’t live in peoples pasts and that she wanted to get to know him for who he is, not who he was. Those words meant a great deal to him. And from that moment on he had fallen for her.

Bucky sighed as he dragged himself up the stairs to his floor. He desperately wished there was some way of getting out of these therapy sessions. But he was tied to them. He couldn’t stop going to them even though he wanted too. But there, it wasn’t really like he had anything better to do. Nothing but either sitting at home in silence or walking around busy streets constantly looking over his shoulder. Those were his only other options.

As he walked to his apparent at the end of the hallway (Y/N)’s door opened and she walked out dressed for the outdoors, it was getting cold so it was smart of her to be wearing a warm coat. “(Y/N)” he called gently to her. She lifted her head after locking her door and gave him a warm smile.

“Hi James” She said, she always called him James rather than Bucky. He didn’t know why but he didn’t exactly mind. “How was your session today?” She had memorised the times at which he went to his therapy sessions. She probably knew he schedule better than he did.

Bucky shrugged “the usual” he told her making her laugh a little.

“That bad huh?”

“I guess” he said scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, I’m heading to the store to get some food if you wanted to talk on the way? Don’t feel you have to”

“No, that sounds good” he tried to smile but it was a little awkward, but she didn’t seem to say anything and just motioned her head for him to follow.

The shop wasn’t too far away so it was a quick walk. Bucky wasn’t the talkative type, not really anyway. Especially not to someone he didn’t like. And Dr Raynor was someone who he didn’t like. He was sure that deep down she was a lovely person but he didn’t like the fact she was insistent in getting him to admit his feelings. Although that was her job.

It wasn’t long until they arrived at the store “so what happened?” (Y/N) asked as she picked up a basket.

“Just the usual...she asked me if I had a nightmare-“

“Did you?” Bucky didn’t answer and just looked away from her. “James, you know that it’s her job to help you. And it’s in your best interest to let her”

“I know...but at the same time...I don’t see the point. These things are mandatory. So if I don’t want to go then I don’t see it being helpful”

“I can understand that” her eyes flicking between two boxes of cereal as she inwardly decried in which one to get, but her indecisive nature got the better of her so she opted to get both. Her indecisiveness, Bucky thought, was incredibly cute. It linked in with her kindness, on their Thursday evening meals together it takes ages just to decide what to have. “But still,” she continued, Bucky following her like a lost puppy “like you said, it’s mandatory. And there are people who would love to be in your position. Getting therapy I mean. So you should at least make the most of it while you can”

“I mean...yeah. I guess. But...I don’t know I just...well it’s easier to talk to someone like you then it is to talk to her” (Y/N) smiled at little at this as she finished putting on the last few items before making her way to the till.

Neither of them said much else. Expect for (Y/N) making light conversation with the cashier as she paid although both (Y/N) and Bucky knew that the cashier really didn’t want to be there. Luckily it didn’t take long for (Y/N) to bag her items and pay for them before they were both leaving the store.

It had gotten colder outside then when they left originally. (Y/N) shivered and pulled her coat around her a little more before they both began walking back to their apartment building.

“So what is it about me that makes you find it easier to talk?” She asked, she brushed her hair from her face as a sudden gust of wind blew it out of place when she turned to look at him.

“Well...” he muttered shoving his hands into his pockets “for one, you don’t sit there with a passive aggressive notebook ready to write shit about me” this made her laugh a little, she always found it funny when he’d talk about this notebook Dr Raynor had. She didn’t really know why he hated it so much, and she knew she shouldn’t have found it funny but he never stopped her from laughing about it, in fact often times he would join in thereby encouraging her.

“Yes, that is something better I guess. Although, I’m sure I could find a notebook if you wanted” she teased.

“Oh god. Please don’t” He said holding back a smile.

“Anything else?” She asked him.

Bucky thought for a moment. There were many things about her that made it easier for him to talk to her, but he couldn’t list them all. For one, that would be embarrassing, and two he didn’t think he’d have the breath to do it. “Well-“

He was cut off when he saw (Y/N)’s smile fall and her pace began to slow right down to a stop. Bucky stopped and looked at her “everything okay?” He asked her, his voice full of concern.

She turned sharply to the side so she was facing the road “y-yeah..” she stuttered nervously “just...my ex is walking this way and I really don’t want him to see me”

Bucky felt a strange feeling inside him. He didn’t even know she had been in a relationship. It must’ve been a recent thing right? Unless it was a really bad break up in the past, or this guy had done something to her to prompt her being so on edge. Bucky turned to try and scope out this guy but he didn’t have a clue what he was looking for. So he reached over to her and pulled up her hood on her hoodie that she wore under her coat and pulled her into his side so that her face was hidden from view.

“Tell me when he’s gone” Bucky muttered to her. She nodded her head and let him walk her along the path, she kept her eye on the path ahead as best she could while still covering her face. But she was now more focused on two things, his arm around her and his wonderful smell. Never did she think she’d ever get this close to him. She never thought he’d let her, but here she was attached to his side with his arm wrapped around her, holding her protectively against him.

And his smell. It was just as comforting as she dreamed it would be. A mix of his cologne and what she could only describe as Him. All she wanted to do now was to just melt into his strong and warm embrace and just stay there forever.

In all her daydreaming she didn’t notice that her ex had long since walked by and they had reached the entrance to their apartment building and she didn’t tell him he could let go or that it was safe for her to walk properly.

Bucky came to a stop and slowly slipped his arm from her “I mean...I take it he’s gone now right?” He said a little nervously. (Y/N) stood up straight and pushed the hood from her head and nodded quickly, her cheeks burning in embarrassment.

“Yeah. Yes, right. Sorry. Yes. He’s gone. I um...I just wanted to make sure he didn’t suddenly turn around you know? That’s all” she said in an unconvincing tone. But Bucky himself was too flustered to actually care that she was flustered as well.

“Of course, that’s smart. Well we made it back” he said stepping up to the door and pushing it open for her. She nodded and thank you and quickly hopped inside the building, Bucky following after her.

The walk up the stairs was an awkward silence. They felt like teenagers after their first ever date. Who says something first? What do they even say? Luckily for them, this wasn’t a first date, and they weren’t teenagers. They were fully grown, mature adults. But that doesn’t mean adults can’t get flustered in the presence of their crush...right?

After what felt like hours, but was more like five painstaking minuets, they finally got to their floor and walked down the hall, both briefly forgetting that they lived right next to each other.

(Y/N) stopped at her door and placed her bag of food on the floor to fish out her keys from her pocket. “Uh...you want to come in?” She asked whilst fiddling around in her pocket to find the keys. “I know it’s not Thursday but we didn’t really talk as much as usual...” her voice seemed to trail off as she finally found her keys and put them in the key hole before unlocking the door. “You don’t have too..”

“I’d...like to...” he said in a soft voice with a gentle smile to try and put her at ease even though he too was freaking out inside. She smiled back and picked up her bag before walking inside her apartment, he did too.

They both made their way into her small kitchen and he made himself at home by sitting in his usual seat at her white kitchen table and she began to unpack the shopping “Do you want me to help?” He asked her as he went to stand up but she waved off his offer.

“No no, it’s fine. There’s only a few bits anyway” she told him as she began to pack each item away in its rightful place.

“So uh...” Bucky began quietly as he scraped his metal finger again the wood table. “This ex of yours...what’s the story there?”

Bucky was a little cautious of his words. He didn’t want to say anything to hurt or offend her but at the same time he wanted to know what about the guy made her so on edge earlier.

“Oh uh...” she muttered as she pulled two cups from her cupboard.

“You don’t need to tell me if you want want to. Sorry..”

“It’s fine” she assured him “nothing really happened I guess. It was just a bad break up. He didn’t really take it well and for a few weeks after that he just kept texting me and trying to call me. He came round to my place too to try and get me back. He never did know how to take no for an answer. But about a month ago he finally got the message and stopped all contact with me. Seeing him today...I was just worried that he’d try it all again”

“He sounds like a real asshole” Bucky said flatly making her laugh a little as she went about making some tea for the both of them. “But in his defence, if I lost a girl like you, I’d struggle with taking no for an answer as well”

(Y/N) let out a nervous laugh and almost dropped his tea cup from the shock of his comment but she was a little more used to his flirtatious nature that would sometimes make an appearance when they were in her apartment. After he told her about his boyish charms back in the 40s she noticed how he would often slip back into that era. It was cute to say the least.

She set down his tea in front of him and he flashed her a “thank you” smile before wrapping his fingers around it.

There was a brief silence in the room. She was greatly over thinking is earlier comment. But so was he. Maybe he shouldn’t have said it. He meant it though. But what if he had pushed the limit a little too far?

“What was the other reason?” She asked him, her finger nail scratching again the tea cup trying to avoid eye contact with him at all costs.

“Huh?” He questioned looking over the table to her.

“Earlier. You were going to give me another reason why I’m easier to talk to. What was it?”

Bucky’s muscles tensed as his fingers gripped the tea cup handle as he stared into the black tea she had made for him. “If I’m being honest...” he began slowly “I think...there are too many reasons why I find talking to you easier. But I guess one is that you don’t do it because you have to or it’s your job to. You do it out of kindness. And it’s...easier to talk to someone who’s listening because they want to. And yes, I get that Dr Raynor probably does want to help me but I also know that at the end of the day, it’s all for a pay check. But with you...you do it because you want to. Or at least...I think you want to”

“I do want to, James. I’ll always be around to ask if you’re okay. And to make you okay when you’re not. I care about you...”

“And...I care about you. Another reason I prefer talking to you is because...I like you...a lot. I just think you’re the most beautiful woman, and you have such a sweet and caring nature and a good heart that is wasted on me. But I can’t help but like you...” he couldn’t really believe he just said what he did. He wasn’t mean to tell her that. It was meant to stay a secret within him into the end of time. But there was a shift in atmosphere that just made it all slip out.

“You...you like me?” She asked, still not looking at him.

“Yeah...” he said. There was a little more confidence in his voice as he admitted his feelings towards her.

“I like you too..” she too held a little more confidence in her voice as she admitted her returned feelings. It felt...good. Especially since she knew he returned the feelings she had harboured for him since they met.

She stood abruptly and held her hand out to him. He looked at it and looked up at her again before taking her hand. She pulled him to his feet and a little close to her.

He smirked a little as he looked down at her “you want me to kiss you or something?” He said almost proudly.

“Yes..” she said “but first...I want to know something”

“What do you want to know?” He asked her. She squeezed his hand and dragged him out of her kitchen.

She lead him to her bedroom and noticed the worried expression on his face when he looked at her bed. This was what she wanted to know.

“You don’t have a bed in your apartment...” She told him quietly. (Y/N) turned her body so she was facing him completely, he cautiously lifted his hands to settle on her waist.

“I know...” he mumbled.

“Why?”

Bucky paused but he felt safe enough to give her an honest answer “I...I’m...scared. Of them”

“What is it about a bed that scares you?” She whispered, her fingers gently trailing down his cheeks. Bucky didn’t answer right away, for one he was to busy focusing of the beautiful touch of her hands, and for another, he didn’t really know the answer to her question. But he could take a guess.

“Because I...I don’t think I’ve slept in one since 1943. And I...after everything I’ve done...I don’t deserve to lie in such luxury...” his voice was quiet and barely audible, had it not been for the close proximity they were in, she probably wouldn’t have heard him.

“James...” she laid her forehead against his and he instinctively griped her waist a little tighter. The comfort and warmth she was bringing him was something he didn’t want to loose. She was someone he didn’t want to loose. He felt safer with no one but her. For once he actually felt...okay. But he felt he was holding her too tightly, but if he was she was wasn’t willing to tell him that.

“You know that you have no reason to be afraid. You are changing. You are becoming a good man. You do deserve to live in luxury, even if that starts with sleeping in a proper bed. Maybe it is scary for you...but...if you’ll allow me, I’ll help you face it”

“Please...” he whispered with a nod before pressing his lips to hers.

05/04/21

Taglist: @lunaserenade @phoenixhalliwell @slytherin4ever

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Sebastian Stan #tfatws #marvel #fluff #angst #fanfic

274 notes · View notes

minimoefoe · 3 years

Text

About Kerblam!

So basically a lot of people seem to really hate Kerblam! and I just finished re-watching it and I literally have no problems with it so I thought I would give some of my Thoughts™ because apparently I just have to give my opinion on everything. This is way too long, sorry.

Tbh I kinda think that this episode is a great example of people taking something from Thirteen’s era and trying to twist it and make it seem way more horrific than it actually is. ‘The systems aren’t the problem’ does not equate to ‘The system runs perfectly well and everything that’s happened here is fine.’ Which is what I feel like some people jump to.

I think to turn that quote into some pro-capitalist statement is to just completely twist how the whole episode presented the situation at Kerblam and how the end of the episode showed that positive change, which the Doctor was pleased with, was happening.

Obviously the system sucks. Barely anyone can get a job and the people that do get jobs are supposed to be grateful that they’re doing the most mind numbing tasks you can imagine. The episode doesn’t try and tell us that what’s happening at Kerblam is okay. We’re supposed to feel bad for Kira, Dan and the other workers. We’re supposed to think that this is a shitty way to have to live. It’s not like the main message of the episode is that what’s happening at Kerblam isn’t a problem. It very clearly is a problem and the episode presents it as such. .

THE DOCTOR: ‘The systems aren’t the problem. How people use and exploit the systems: that’s the problem. People like you.’

Uhhh, she’s kinda right, actually. There’s nothing inherently wrong with people creating systems and using technology to help make some things easier. The problem comes when the systems takes over and makes people redundant or when the systems end up hurting people.

I was reading some articles about this episode and I found this section of one that I really liked:

‘...the moral of the episode is one that’s coming more and more clear the more we rely on technology as a species. Charlie plans to commit mass murder because he’s decided that the system must be destroyed in order to fix anything, but the Doctor disagrees, saying, “The systems aren’t the problem. How people use and exploit the system, that’s the problem.” It makes perfect sense coming from our engineer Doctor, someone who understands full well that technology isn’t inherently evil of itself—it’s all in what we choose to do with it.’

The system, as it is during the episode, is a problem, for sure. But the source of that problem is the people that put the systems in place in the first place. The Doctor sees that very clearly. People created robots and made everything automated. People made humans pretty much redundant. People put in the 10% human quota. People (Charlie) are trying to literally kill other people using the system. The system killed someone but only after it started getting attacked by a person.

And it’s not okay that the system killed someone, obviously, but there is a reason why it happened. Much like how it’s not okay that Charlie wants to kill a ton of people but there is a reason he wants to do that. You might not think the reasons are big enough to make the deaths okay or worth it but they are still reasons (only one of which is even slightly valid imo but I’ll get to that). And I don’t think the Doctor thinks the deaths are okay either. She certainly doesn’t think all the murdering Charlie is going to do is okay. She doesn’t specifically say the murder of Kira isn’t okay, as far as I can remember, but she doesn’t say it is either, she just states why it happened.

The systems wouldn’t have literally killed people if Charlie wasn’t scheming away. He has the right idea in terms of wanting the current system to change but his plan was just... not good. His plan wasn’t to make everyone on Kandoka see how awful the current system is so steps can be made to fix it or to like, get people protesting the current system, he just wants to make people scared of technology altogether.

THE DOCTOR: It took [Kira], knowing how you felt about her. To show you how it would feel. Because how you feel right now about Kira is how all those families and friends will feel if your plan goes off. CHARLIE: If that’s the price to change how everyone on Kandoka sees technology, then it is worth it. For the cause.

Charlie’s whole plan is using and exploiting the system which is why the Doctor directly calls him out with ‘people like you.’

This brings me back to the reasons for the killing that’s going on. I think I’ve seen the argument that ‘The system LiTeRaLlY killed someone’ as a ‘the system is obviously the problem’ argument’ and I just... don’t agree. The reason the system killed someone leads directly back to people being the problem. Kira would not have been killed if Charlie hadn’t been planning something awful. And that’s not to say it’s completely okay the system killed Kira. It’s to say that there’s a somewhat valid reason that it happened. Valid isn’t the right word but like.. The reason the system killed someone makes a lot more sense to me than the reason that Charlie wants to kill a bunch of people.

The system isn’t 100% helpless, because we see it has enough power to kill Kira, but it’s way of killing Kira fits into what the system was already programmed to do - deliver a package to someone. It contacted the Doctor and asked for help by doing something it was already programed to as well - print a package label. Killing Kira was all the systems could do to try and get Charlie to stop what he was planning. It didn’t work but it was worth a try because that might have been the last chance of stopping Charlie if the Doctor didn’t figure it out in time. Had the system’s plan of killing Kira worked and made Charlie realise that what he was doing was crazy then I think her death would probably had been worth it.

Now, Charlie on the other hand is basically planning to have the Kerblam men kill a bunch of people in order to make everyone on Kandoka scared of technology. I think it’s likely that if he were to have got away with his plan, it wouldn’t have had the effect he was hoping for. I can’t imagine a mass Kerblam ‘malfunction’ would make everyone eternally scared of technology. They would surely just create a new set of robots that were just controlled differently so the ‘malfunction’ wouldn’t happen again. And then things would basically go back to how they were.

Charlie’s plan does nothing to make the actual system, like the general work flow at Kerblam, look bad in order to force change, it just makes the robots look like they need major fixing. So imo, Charlie saying it’s ‘worth it’ for all those people to die in order to get what he wants is ridiculous because his plan is so higher risk.

There’s no way for Charlie to have known how people would have reacted to a mass Kerblam man malfunction, anything could have happened because of it, but there were only two outcomes for killing Kira - either Charlie carries on or he stops and sees sense. That’s worth the risk imo, especially if that was the absolute last chance of stopping him, which it would have been if the Doctor and co hadn’t been there.

The systems can and should exist, that’s just evolution, the progression of humanity, people just need to be more careful with what they do with it or things like the situation at Kerblam will keep happening. Getting rid of it completely, like Charlie wants, is an unrealistic goal. Things just have to be put in place to fix the damage that’s already been done. Technology has come too far for it all just disappear.

At no point do I think the Doctor is saying that the way Kerblam runs is okay. She’s obviously not fuckin advocating for the way Kerblam and every other company like it treats their workers. She’s just saying that people are the reason that the systems have got so bad and it’s the people that have to do something about it.

And that ends up happening, things get put in place to make life at Kerblam better than it was. The things Judy and Slade put in place aren’t gonna be perfect, I’m sure, but it is progress from that 10% human quota.

I mean, in an ideal world no one would have to work at all and the robots actually would just completely take over but everyone, including the Doctor I’m sure, knows that that is an unrealistic goal and the changes put in place at the end of the ep are a positive step in the right direction, even if it isn’t the ideal life.

I was going to add another long section in here about how I don’t care that Charlie died and I don’t think Thirteen did anything wrong but basically it just boils down to - She gave him the option to come back up and leave with them. He knew she was going to detonate those bombs, the Kerblam men were already opening the packages, but he refused to move.

Had he decided to come back up with them, I’d imagine that the Doctor would have stopped the detonation to give him time to get up. But he didn’t so we’ll never actually know. All we know is he was given the option and he refused. It’s really that simple imo. Idk what about the situation makes Thirteen this horrific person who murdered some ‘innocent’ guy. Charlie was a prick. It would have been nice if he say sense and went with them but he didn’t so tbh I can’t say I care much that he’s dead

#dw txt #doctor who #thirteenth doctor #kerblam #dw meta #nataliechats #im sure people will hate this lmao #but im sorry #i just dont see how this ep is soooo awful #and honesltly i feel like #that little article section i put in there #should be enough to make you see what the doctor was ACTUALLY trying to say #when she said the systems arent the problem #this post feels like a lot of me repeating myself but what can ya do #anways #hmu to argree / shout at me if you like idk

60 notes · View notes

dontcallmecarrie · 3 years

Note

Hey, I vicariously live in my imagination to escape from the reality.

So, I have been wondering about the Rogues reaction to Tony defeating thanos, the IronSmaug, taking over the world etc...

Have a go at it, if you are interested.

It's also fine if you dont.

thanks, I really, really needed the distraction. it's been. an interesting week. not in a good way.

tbh, the whole 'what does Team Cap think about this mess?' thing in TWiFFON is...something I had originally been torn about, and everything that's been happening ever since means I keep finding myself going "do I have the energy to tackle this? lol no".

For some context, because you probably know my stance on this sort of thing but I prefer redundancy just to make sure we're on the same page: once upon a time, I honestly, genuinely did like the Avengers. All of them, and yes, that included Wanda [...for less than an hour, but still].

Back when I still had faith in the writers, I was constantly going "...okay, so when are these guys going to stop acting so OOC? Where tf are they planning on taking these character arcs?" and just being disappointed at each turn— but I stuck around because I liked the potential. Steve "what do you mean punching fascists isn't cool anymore?" Rogers, Natasha "my past is a tire fire and I'll just leave it at that" Romanov, Clint "where's Loki? Let me at him!" Barton and the rest of the group had their good points, and I gave myself a headache trying to figure out wtf was their thought process when the time came for them to do their thing in TWiFFON.

It wasn't fun, I only did it because it was absolutely necessary... and I still ended up receiving complaints.

Look: for me, character bashing is exhausting. I have enough going down in my life that I don't have any interest in writing it, and over the past few years I've seen more than one of the fandoms I follow/lurk in become salt mines that have me going "...okay, if you hate it so much, why are you even here?"

When I write, I try my best to emphasize the 'actions have consequences' thing I learned long before I hit puberty; but that doesn't mean I'm up for anything beyond that. Again, I used to like these characters, so seeing the levels of suffering canon— and some writers— put them through just has me stepping back for a moment.

But TWiFFON attracted a lot of people who were pretty far out there in terms of what they wanted, some of whom got very very pissy when it wasn't the story I wanted to write, which is...probably like 99% of the reason I'm still burned out on that AU. Apart from the recent personal life bs that means I am Not Up To Dealing With any hypothetical rando that shows up in my inbox, because normally I could not care less about what people think but my energy levels are. Um. Not great atm. Not sure I wouldn't bite anyone's head off if they wanted to start something right now, tbh, or just ragequit writing for a while because I have way better things to do with my time than deal with random internet assholes.

...apologies for the tangent, but now you know why that situation is one I'm normally kinda reluctant on tackling.

As for what I'd originally headcanoned:

Back before things hit the fan, I'd originally planned to have some little interlude snippets of what Team Cap's been dealing with. Mostly, it would've forced them to acknowledge that for all none of them liked or trusted Tony, he was basically just the personification of what the rest of the world thought of them.

Nobody respects them, anymore, or trusts them; Clint'd be in very hot water and sleeping on the couch for a while, and Hank Pym would never let Scott hear the end of his involvement in this whole thing because Hank hates the Stark name and the English language cannot concisely articulate just how pissed off he was that he had to publicly thank Tony.

Team Cap overall would also start to fall apart at the seams as more and more stuff came out and ey, turns out the leader they'd trusted and broken international laws for had lied to them.

By omission, sure, but honestly— do you think that'd go down well? The "oh yeah, I've known my brainwashed friend killed his parents since DC but I am not going to tell him unless I'm forced to" thing?

I don't know about you, but I for one highly doubt Sam Wilson would be okay with that. Or Clint, for that matter, and the list goes on because the more time passes, the more stuff keeps coming out of the woodwork and for the first time in years, they're forced to deal with it.

One of the things I planned to include in the sidefic can basically be summed up as "the curious case of Bucky Barnes": that is to say, what'd happen after he's taken into custody, and poke lightly at the clusterfuck we're unpacking here. Tony, feeling bad for losing control in the bunker, would basically go "shit I fucked up but I also never want to see him again but he's an even bigger mess than I am, that's a whole lot to unpack so you know what? I'm just throwing out the suitcase entirely here, have all the resources for support and help and if I ever see you again, it'll be too soon".

...to sum up, it's messy af. SI Legal would feature heavily because his particular case means he needs a team of lawyers, what with the 'former POW who's trying to recover from All The Trauma' thing, and the 'so I literally was just trying to buy some damn groceries when you guys dragged me into this', and Tony basically went "hey, so if anyone wants to help him, uh, I kinda have some interest in this one. Fair warning, dude probably killed Kennedy while mind-controlled, with our luck".

And along the way, there'd also be some of that one subplot I'd cut due to pacing issues: specifically, the one dealing with prosthetics.

Remember how Miriam Sharpe said her son would never walk again? Yeah, we'd be revisiting that: her family'd get a letter or something inviting them for clinical trials, and meet Rhodey in passing as he's using his own leg braces to get around because he's still healing. Bucky would get a few design offers for a free replacement for his arm, and it'd probably end up being a collab with Wakanda because T'Challa feels bad for his role in that mess as well.

So Team Cap would be seeing this, seeing how everyone's acting and reacting, and the way one of their own is getting all the help and support Stark Industries has to offer and realizing that yeah, they messed up. Big time.

...depending on my salt levels and how close we're sticking to canon, I was thinking this'd go one of two ways.

Either they'd double down and just go "ugh, Tony is a supervillain and we can't do anything about it!" while TWiFFON marches on and then later go "...you mean he did it by accident?!", or...

Well, canon's proven character development and continuity isn't really in their writers' vocabulary. So my original idea of 'they're forced to deal with the reality of the situation, acknowledge they messed up and slowly move on with their lives' would've been very unrealistic.

Again, most of this is intentionally vague, I had not been keen to tackle that mess in TWiFFON in the first place and the way things exploded on me means I really, really don't have the energy to do so now. Not when there's far better things I could do with my time, like mess around with AUs where people actually get along, or knit, or— well, the list goes on.

#The War is Far From Over Now #From the Other Side [A Terror To Behold]#thinking aloud #I got an ask!#Naught replies #replies #behind the scenes

45 notes · View notes

meggannn · 3 years

Text

guerrilla does something interesting in HZD with aloy and her motivations and how they let her goals differ from the player's goals. most of the time when a main character's driving goals differ from the audience's, it means the writing has misfired and it feels jarring when you shine a spotlight on it. but it definitely works in HZD because guerilla knew what the player's immediate interests would be—they open their game with huge scenic shots of a pre-industrial community contrasted with these enormous robot dinosaurs! they want you to be sucked into the mystery of why things are the way they are—and they also knew going in that they had had to tie the player's interests to aloy's goals as a character (john gonzalez, the narrative director, talks about it a bit in this interview). and over time, the two start to bleed over as aloy starts to care about the old ones and we start to care more about her. i don't know if they'll continue this strategy in HFW, but they've set themselves up in a really unique situation with the contrast of aloy's focus on the present/future and the audience's interest (mostly) in the past.

i've been trying to find a way to articulate the ideas in this post for a while, and i am really tired so forgive me if this gets redundant or some sentences don't make sense lol. spoilers for HZD obv

in HZD, aloy, the motherless outcast, is largely concentrated on finding out the mystery of her origins. i mean hopefully we, the player, are also interested in that because it's a pretty unique set up (it's not possible for someone to not have a birth mother... right?), but i'm willing to bet that most of the audience was overwhelmingly more interested in figuring out what the hell happened to the old ones of this world (us) and why robots are wandering around everywhere, than we were about figuring out what happened to aloy's mom. (i'm aware that is a large assumption, but i think it's a pretty safe one considering the reactions i see when people finish the game usually mention APOLLO in some way, or ask if it's still around or there's a way to bring it back.)

for aloy, the status quo of robots-that-nobody-really-understands wandering around is just a constant of her life, and discovering her mother is her pressing issue. for us, this world's major differences between our world (why did we die off and why are robots now the dominant species on earth) are more fascinating. so guerrilla ties the micro and macro mysteries together so that we are also interested in aloy's journey about her origins: by making the story of her birth and the history of the world woven into the same narrative fabric

aloy even directly says "it (finding out info on the past) isn't why i'm here" and sylens replies sarcastically "of course, what's the whole of human history compared to the search of one girl?" it isn't until after aloy realizes she's a clone, that she doesn't have a traditional birth mother, when she faces the nora and decides to stop HADES because GAIA asked her to, in a sign of extreme maturity and character growth (imo), does her goal of helping GAIA by beating HADES now start to align with the player's goals of trying to "set the world right" (by helping GAIA by beating HADES).

it's interesting because if anything, sylens, the anti-hero and arguable deuteragonist, is the character whose goals most match up with the audience's own throughout HZD: he's the one who is seeking out the knowledge of the old ones, he's the one who mourns losing APOLLO the way we do. aloy doesn't really react to what became of APOLLO at all (when it's revealed what happened to it, her immediate response is sorrow over the alphas' deaths, the more human element compared to sylens's laser focus on info-hunting). sylens is... also a total asshole and might be an anti-villain in the upcoming games (i hope not; i hope he's more of a rogue agent than an actual villain, personally) so it will be interesting if the audience eventually starts feeling torn between aloy's goals (save the world today) and sylens's (recover what can be saved the world of the old ones)

for aloy, APOLLO's absence is not a loss because she's never known a world without the knowledge of the old ones. why does she care about expending energy to hunt for info on our music and art and politics and wars? how does shifting through datapoints about things she doesn't understand and tools/tech she doesn't have access to help the planet today? after discovering GAIA's origins and purpose, i'm sure she'd probably be interested in recovering APOLLO if there is anything left of it to recover—even she's only interested in it to honor samina/elisabet's memory and the effort of PZD—but a lot of the fandom (myself included) keeps hoping and speculating and wondering if APOLLO is still around because APOLLO is the audience, or rather, it's the last scraps of what's left of us. we have an interest in APOLLO but aloy never shows any interest in or sorrow over it besides to vaguely wonder what happened to it. her interests are in the here and now.

when the audience looks at her world, we see what we've lost, and we know APOLLO is a way to get some of it back. for aloy, she's definitely engaged and interested in the old ones' technology and wants to make sure PZD's work is continued and restored and rebuild GAIA, so if APOLLO turns out to be around i'm sure she'd be interested in it, but for now, she's got too many things going on to consider it a priority. and even if she did, it would have to come after she's taken care of the immediate threats of the other chaotic subfunctions; and she would have to justify the time and energy spent on APOLLO to the value it gives her world (a world that doesn't utilize focuses as much as PZD had hoped, and a world whose language has likely changed enough that they might not even understand what they were being told) because she'd have to do it for her world. her world is already here, the old ones' world is gone, and her world the one that needs saving, not the possibility of bringing the old ones' back

so guerrilla has set themselves up with something very interesting here imo where the protag and the audience have mostly aligned but largely separate primary interests and i'm very curious to see how these interests will keep aligning, or not, in the future. personally i think they'll make the main focus of the series discovering and befriending the subfunctions and restoring GAIA, while also wrestling with modern-day politics in an effort to start preparing contemporary groups of people for a more holistic understanding of nature and machines, with the hopes of preparing them for GAIA's return and a future where they 1. take care of the planet and 2. stop attacking machines for parts lol. and i think they'll drag out the mystery of APOLLO possibly still being around until the end (assuming there will be 3 or more games).

personally, when i look at what we've been given so far (everything could change when HFW comes out), i could go either way on if APOLLO is still actually around or not. it would be an interesting (if expected) twist, but i wouldn't want it as wish fulfillment; i wouldn't want it to be used as a cheat that suddenly means ted faro's harm can be negated, or brought back as a HEA in a way that implies knowledge will suddenly be used and spread equally or even easily. also we should consider APOLLO is now an AI of its own! it will have opinions and things and the will to act on them!

discounting the overwhelmingly difficult logistics of introducing APOLLO to a new world that has evolved without its involvement from its inception, if APOLLO comes back in the way the we, the audience, want it to, then spreading several millennia's worth of knowledge to several diverse, warring peoples is full of difficult challenges that you are now suddenly introducing; aloy + GAIA + co. would now be in charge of not only taking care of humans on this spinning ball called earth, but also educating them equally and fairly. it's a huge task to introduce on aloy's already very busy schedule! so frankly i wouldn't be surprised if they wrote APOLLO off and went with an "it sucks but we have to make the most of the world the old ones left us" angle—or, alternatively, have aloy (or sylens!) dedicate the rest of her life traveling and hunting down and/or spreading what remains of APOLLO'S knowledge?

idk! there's a lot to dissect here about what guerrilla is doing and where APOLLO fits in as both a possible ally/villain and a narrative tool to keep us interested (it is a carrot on the stick for the audience)! and i find it all very interesting!!

#horizon zero dawn #horizon stuff #aloy #sylens

77 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

if every breath is sacred

When Carlos wakes up, flames and smoke are filling the room, but TK is nowhere to be seen. He knows the protocols for being in a fire: sit tight, stay low to the ground, wait for help to arrive. But, it’s TK. Protocols have always gone straight out of the window when it comes to TK. So, Carlos—

Well, Carlos does probably the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his life.

He grabs two t-shirts from a drawer, holds one over his mouth and nose, and plunges into the inferno.

ao3 | 2.1k | 2.12 spec

The air in their bedroom is sour with a rage Carlos knows isn’t directed at him, yet he can’t help but feel guilty for it anyway. TK is curled up on his side of the bed, back to Carlos, his arms wrapped tightly around himself and his breaths far too carefully even for him to be asleep.

Carlos wants to call him out on it, but he doesn’t want to make things worse than they already are.

He knows he’s not the one TK’s mad at - they’ve had that conversation already - and Carlos is angry too. Mainly at Owen for being so stupid, but also a little bit at his dad even though he knows he was just doing his job. It’s more that they put him in the impossible situation of having to explain to his boyfriend that his father was arrested than anything else; seeing TK’s face fall at the news felt like one of the worst moments of Carlos’s life.

They’ll have to talk about this eventually - tomorrow, hopefully - but, right now, it’s better to just let TK’s anger run its course.

Which is why Carlos bites his tongue when TK suddenly throws the sheets back and climbs out of bed, leaving the room with only a muttered comment about getting a drink. He sighs, listening to TK’s heavier-than-usual footsteps, relieved when he hears the quiet click of the kettle as opposed to the coffee machine. At least now there’s a chance of TK coming back to bed and getting some sleep, albeit a small one.

Carlos throws his arm over his eyes as the sounds quiet. He’s exhausted and, much as he wants to stay up for TK, he can’t resist the pull of sleep. So he lets himself drift off, praying that things will be easier in the morning.

He wakes to the scent of smoke invading his nostrils, harsh coughs already ripping from his throat even as he blinks the remains of sleep away. Carlos frowns, his brain taking a second to register the dim orange glow under the bedroom door for what it is.

Fire.

His eyes widen and he turns to warn TK -

But, TK’s not there.

The bathroom light isn’t on, either, which means… Which means, he never made it back to bed.

Which means he’s still downstairs.

Carlos jumps out of bed and races to the door, yanking it open, only to come to a sudden halt as flames jump up at him from the stairs. The smoke is thick, but he can see enough to tell that the ground floor has already been overwhelmed by the fire, and that it probably won’t be long until it makes its way up here. His heart is threatening to pound out of his chest with fear and worry, but he forces himself to concentrate, to slip into first responder mode; panicking won’t help TK, nor will it get them out of this mess.

Returning into the bedroom, he snatches his phone from the bedside table and dials, sliding to the floor as more and more smoke invades the room.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“My house, it’s on fire. My boyfriend and I are trapped inside, but I don’t know where he is. He went downstairs to get a drink and I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, there was fire everywhere and he still wasn’t back.”

“Could you give me your address, sir?”

Carlos rattles off his details, suppressing the tickle in his throat for as long as he can before he’s overwhelmed by coughing again. He can hear the dispatcher on the other end saying something, but he can’t make out what.

When the coughs die out, he takes heaving breaths of air, already in short supply. The dispatcher is still talking, so Carlos focuses.

“-ir? Sir, are you there?”

“I’m here,” he gasps eventually, closing his eyes.

“Good, help is on the way. For the time being, is there anywhere you can go to escape from the smoke?”

Carlos shakes his head, before remembering that the action is redundant. “No. There’s nowhere.”

“Alright, just hang tight. Fire and medical should be with you in around six minutes.”

Six minutes.

Too long.

Carlos glances back to the door, his mind going to TK and how long he must have been in the flames and smoke for. A chill goes through him as he realises he doesn’t even know, and he just... He needs to make sure he’s okay.

He may be a cop, and not a firefighter, but Carlos knows the protocols for being in a fire. Sit tight, stay low to the ground, wait for help to arrive. But, it’s TK. Protocols have always gone straight out of the window when it comes to TK. So, Carlos—

Well, Carlos does probably the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his entire life.

He grabs two t-shirts from a drawer, holds one over his mouth and nose, and plunges into the inferno.

Flames lick at his exposed skin and thick, black smoke clogs his lungs, the thin cloth of the t-shirt doing next to nothing to halt its path. His eyes are burning, vision obscured with how much they’re watering, but Carlos pushes on, squinting through the haze to search for any sign of his boyfriend.

Navigating his house is difficult, everything seeming alien in this strange half-light, but he manages, and eventually he stumbles - almost literally - over a crumpled figure against the far wall.

“TK!” he cries, or tries to. It comes out hoarse, and quieter than he intended, so Carlos clears his throat and tries again and again and again until he drops down on his knees next to TK.

“TK,” he says again, shaking his shoulder. TK’s eyes are closed, but they flutter when Carlos shakes him harder. “Come on, baby, open your eyes.”

TK must listen to him, because, slowly, his eyes blink open, widening as he takes in the scene around them. Carlos presses the second t-shirt into his hands and he nods in understanding, raising it to his mouth.

“Help is coming,” Carlos says, mouth close to TK’s ear. “Just a couple more minutes.”

TK nods again and lowers the shirt. He opens his mouth to say something, but he doesn’t get a sound out before a round of coughing comes over him, causing him to fold in on himself. It’s loud enough that TK misses the cracking sound coming from right above his head, the thin trickle of dust raining down on them.

TK misses it, but Carlos doesn’t.

His boyfriend’s name tears out of him, and he just has time to shove TK as hard as he can before the ceiling comes crashing down.

Carlos chokes, suddenly finding it even harder to breathe, as if it wasn’t near impossible before. He’s pinned, the only movement he has left in his right hand. If he strains, he can just about see TK, who’s staring at him with a horrified expression. Carlos attempts a smile, but he’s pretty sure it doesn’t work.

His lungs spasm as he tries and fails to take a breath, his entire body burning with the weight crushing him. His vision is dimming, and he knows it’s likely only seconds before he loses consciousness—and, judging by TK’s slow blinks, the same is true for him.

Carlos prays that whichever station was dispatched gets to them soon, but if this is the end - and he really, really wants it not to be - then he can only think to be grateful that they’re in it together. Carefully, he inches his hand forward, stretching his fingers out until they meet TK’s, and he grips on with all the strength he has left in his body.

“I love you,” he chokes out. He doesn’t know if TK hears him, but he knows that he understands by the way his fingers close around Carlos’s.

TK’s lips move, the roaring flames and the pounding of his own heart making it impossible for Carlos to hear him; still, he knows. It’s a comfort, and he gives TK’s hand one last squeeze before all the energy leaves him and his eyes drift shut.

A flash of blue lights up the room behind Carlos’s closed eyelids, but he doesn’t get a chance to figure out what it means before the darkness swallows him whole.

TK doesn’t know how he got here.

He comes back to awareness slowly, a sudden panic constricting his already tight chest as he stares up at the night sky, his mind trying desperately to work out what’s going on. The last thing he remembers, he was in their front room, surrounded by fire, and Carlos—

Carlos.

TK gasps, his lungs on fire, his back arching and his fingers clawing at what he now realises is a gurney - whether he’s fighting for air or to get to Carlos, he doesn’t know.

Either way, he’s quickly pushed back down and an oxygen mask is pressed against his face.

“TK, I need you to calm down,” a familiar voice - Tommy’s - says.

“Carlos -”

“He’s in good hands, I promise you,” she cuts in, an evasion tactic if TK’s ever heard one. “You’re my priority right now; just focus on breathing for me, alright?”

TK wants to fight, but he still doesn’t have any strength in him, and he’s powerless to do anything as he’s lifted into the ambulance and taken away.

He hates hospitals. After the kidnapping, after Grace and Judd, TK had hopes not to have to enter one again for a while.

He should have known that was just wishful thinking.

This is the worst one, he thinks. He’s not allowed to leave his bed for another day at least, the burns he’d suffered are superficial, but he’d inhaled a lot of smoke and the doctors want to make sure his O2 levels are stable before letting him go.

That would be unbearable enough, but it’s made worse by the fact that he can’t see Carlos. All he’s been told is that Carlos’s injuries were far worse than his own and that he’s been put on a ventilator because his body is too damaged. A horrible guilt wells in TK’s gut at that knowledge - it’s his fault Carlos isn’t awake right now. He knows Carlos saved him when the ceiling came down, and he wishes he hadn’t; he really didn’t need to know what being on the other side of a coma is like.

A quiet knock on the doorframe reaches his ears and he looks up, expecting it to be his dad or one of the team. Instead, he’s surprised to see Carlos’s mom standing there, her eyes red, and a terrifying coldness floods his body.

“Mrs Reyes,” he says, voice trembling. “Is everything okay? Carlos, is he -”

“He’s okay,” she replies, giving him a wobbly smile as she walks towards him. “Or, there’s been no change, which the doctors tell us is a good thing. Gabriel is with him, but I wanted to come and check up on you.”

TK swallows guiltily, wincing slightly at the lingering soreness in his throat. “You didn’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Ah. I see Carlitos didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“I raised four children, TK,” she says, a hint of a real smile on her lips. “I know when someone is lying to me.”

TK flushes and looks down at the bedsheets, picking at them idly. “You’re right. I’m not okay, but I don’t think I will be until he wakes up.”

“You care for him a lot.”

“With all my heart.”

She nods and pats his hand, the simple, yet comforting, touch breaking something in TK. His eyes fill with tears and he lets his head fall back on the pillow as his chest heaves with sobbing. It irritates his throat, but he doesn’t care, not when there’s a greater pain that reaches right down to his very soul.

Mrs Reyes holds him against her without hesitation, not complaining even though his cries must be making a mess of her shirt.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs, stroking his hair in a way that makes TK yearn for a mother he never really had. “Everything will be okay. My Carlitos is a fighter, and I know that he is doing everything he can right now to get back to us. To you.”

TK sniffles, and hangs onto her words with everything he has.

Four days later, Carlos’s eyes open and, for the first time since the fire, TK think he can finally breathe again.

96 notes · View notes

immaturityofthomasastruc · 4 years

Text

#1: Chloe’s “Damnation Arc” That Was Totally Planned From the Start

Time to talk about one of the most infuriating anecdotes of Astruc, and it shows how chaotic the production of Miraculous Ladybug is.

Chloe Bourgeois the resident mean girl you see in a lot of cartoons and shows with a school setting in general. She's the daughter of the mayor of Paris, so she tends to get her way a lot. And her callous personality has left several people emotionally vulnerable, which is how Hawkmoth creates his minions of the week, Akumas. Of the 26 Akumas in the first season, Chloe has contributed to 12 of them becoming akumatized through bullying, insulting, and publicity humiliating them.

In the first season, Chloe was the kind of character who you loved to hate. She was someone who served as a minor threat in the civilian lives of the main characters, and she would usually get her comeuppance at the end of the episode.

There was effort into giving Chloe character development, don't get me wrong, with six episodes between Seasons 2 and 3 dedicated to it. But for every moment of heroism Chloe got, it was always negated by the end, having her go back to her old self and learning nothing in the process. This was because of a strange idea Astruc has. For some reason, he wants the status quo to be the same so new viewers can jump in at any time. While that may work for a show like SpongeBob SquarePants or The Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy, but not for a story driven show like Miraculous Ladybug. So Chloe's “character development” was an unfortunate case of one step forward, two steps back. This ended up disappointing fans, who were really hoping for Chloe to get a proper redemption arc. What's important to remember was that Astruc claimed that he planned for everything that's about to happen from the start, when you'll see that it couldn't be further from the truth.

Even after getting an entire trilogy of episodes focusing on her “development”, Chloe didn't really grow as a person. The only thing that changed was Ladybug would occasionally loan her the Bee Miraculous because of how good she is as Queen Bee. They tried mixing things up in Season 3 when Ladybug said she couldn't be Queen Bee anymore because her identity was public and it would be too dangerous... rather than how rude she is to everyone she meets, and is overall irresponsible with her powers (In her first appearance, she sabotaged a train so she could pull a Syndrome and save it herself, and it was quickly swept under the metaphorical rug). So throughout the third season, we'd get snippets of Chloe saying “Queen Bee could handle this if you let her!” whenever she was on screen. This culminated in the season finale, where she got fed up of waiting, and willingly sided with Hawkmoth to get back at Ladybug.

And when fans were naturally miffed at all this time wasted on a character arc that went absolutely nowhere, guess how Astruc responded?

I find it ironic that Astruc is saying fans shouldn't insult the writing team or other fans because they didn't like the twist... while insulting fans who didn't like the way Chloe's character arc went. Astruc could have easily turned down the idea of a Chloe redemption arc, or find some way to compromise instead of whatever we got. But even if he didn't, why does he have to be so callous about it?

Even if you don't like Chloe, this still screams bad writing. Why focus so much on a character's development so much if you're going to just throw it out the window? There were several times where Marinette was scolded for saying she couldn't change, and that she needed to see the good in Chloe, and now you're just turning back on it? If she was irredeemable the whole time, why dedicate so much time to her “damnation arc”, as Astruc puts it? Why not focus on getting to know other characters and their relevance to the story like Master Fu? Why not focus on writing more interactions between Marinette and Adrien? You know, the two leads whose relationship is the main focus of the show?

And it wasn't just here. Before the season finale, whenever people talked about how they loved Chloe and fanfics showing her growing as a person, Astruc just shut them down. If someone tries to reason with Astruc the importance of being kind to others, he'll just say something like “That doesn't matter, Chloe sucks!” Because that's a good lesson to teach kids, right? People can never change, so why bother?

It's not just those characters either. The last decade we got characters like Weiss Schnee, Pacifica Northwest, and Amity Blight. These were all mean girls who weren't just one-note caricatures of bullies, but characters who actually grew as we got to know them the longer their shows went on.

The thing is, Chloe has all the pieces necessary for a redemption arc, and there are fans and writers alike who want her to get a proper one. But because of Astruc's own stubborn beliefs, he refuses to let anything interesting happen. Change is possible, some of the most interesting characters in fiction are those who genuinely want to be better (Just take a look at all those examples I used earlier, and I'll show more if I need to).

And when someone pointed out that character development is a thing?

I mean, it's not like there was any evidence in the show that made it look like Chloe was trying to be a better person—OH WAIT.

And then, that same person pointed out the redundancy of having two mean girls to antagonize Marinette in her civilian life, relying on the stereotype that all girls do is fight over cute boys instead of actually finishing the redemption arc the writers set up, as well as showing a screenshot of a Tumblr post that perfectly summarizes my feelings on Chloe's character development.

What does Astruc have to say in response to these valid criticisms? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

That's literally all he said to this person. He didn't refute anything that person said, he didn't defend any of his writing choices, he basically plugged his fingers and his ears, and went “LALALALALALA, I'm not listening! I'm not listening!” Dude, you chose to open this Twitter account and take questions, so expect a little criticism thrown your way. But what should I know, according to him, he already planned this for years!

But the main question remains: If you didn't want Chloe to develop or grow as a person, Astruc, why did you even get our hopes up in the first place?

745 notes · View notes

tsckcyomi · 2 years

Text

@chaosleads : If there was one thing you could have changed in her story, what would you have changed? Do you think she had a complete arc?

Part of me wants to say her death because I don’t know what it is with Square Enix and female characters, specifically villainous female characters, but they usually end up dead and I don’t like it. But to be honest, I think if Yotsuyu had survived she never would have been able to find any happiness. She’ll always despise Doma and its people for what happened to her, and even if she were able to settle down and live a ‘normal’ life after killing Asahi, she wouldn’t be able to ever let go of her hatred entirely. Especially after seeing how Doma didn’t change a lick during the job quests.

So maybe if I could pick something to change in her story, it would be her legacy. No, the Domans don’t have to forgive Yotsuyu, they can still view her as the villain that she was because she DID go out of her way to torment them. That’s absolutely fine. But I kind of thought that we’d see ANYTHING that’d prove that Yotsuyu’s story had an impact. Because Yotsuyu’s entire arc was a critique towards the Doman society, how they prefer to avert their eyes to the suffering that others experience and how their traditions and customs can break people. Instead all that we got was Hien lamenting that he should have killed her when he had the chance ( don’t get me wrong, I’m happy we got some more background on him and all, I’m just unhappy about everything else that concerns Yotsuyu in that quest line and how every quest line I’ve done up til now makes each country’s leader look incompetent as hell-- ). Where’s Doma’s version of ‘hey we gotta put a stop to human trafficking and forced sex work’? Maybe not even a whole thing but just hints towards it. Doma just feels... stagnant at this point. It’s only really the Minstrel that ever puts into words what I want to be acknowledged in-game ( “I do not mean to excuse her atrocities, but very few of us are born villains. Circumstances conspired to break her spirit even as she made her misguided choices.” ).

Initially though, I think the developers did a good job with her, especially in the post Stormblood quests where we could actually see and hear what has happened to her by either experiencing it through the Echo or by having the actual people involved in her past make an appearance rather than just hearing it from her. I also wouldn’t have wanted Yotsuyu to stay as Tsuyu because then all the suffering that she endured and also put others through would have felt more redundant in my opinion as it would have been easier to ignore ( ‘well she’s fine now isn’t she’ and all that jazz ).

So, tldr: I feel like Yotsuyu herself had a complete arc, just that the purpose of her arc just kind of fizzled out and, considering how old Stormblood is at this point, won’t be picked up again ever.

#.OOC #but yes i have a yotsuyu survives verse anyway fdjgkd #ty for the ask!! <3

6 notes · View notes

everythingsinred · 3 years

Text

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 26)

Gosh, I'm just so excited for this part.

After months of separation, Natsume has finally found Mikan, thanks to Shiki being a hopeless romantic and not knowing how normal people act.

Speaking of not acting like normal people, these twelve year olds will devote themselves to each other on Christmas, promising eternity and really meaning it.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Four

Shiki lets Natsume find Mikan, who wanted to see him as well, and is standing on the balcony to find him.

The first thing Natsume does is call out for her, maybe because it doesn’t seem real. After so many months of searching and coming up empty, he’s finally found her, probably in a place he’s checked thousands of times. When she calls back down to him, he knows for sure that it’s real. He climbs up to the balcony and in no time he’s reached her. They’re both excited to see and feel each other for the first time in so long. They’re able to hold hands, but they can only reach so far. Shiki can’t allow Natsume to actually break her out of her labyrinth.

The existence of the barrier is kind of a downer for Natsume, who had been looking forward to finding her and saving her all at once. She starts asking lots of questions, but he’s preoccupied, thinking about the thickness of the barrier and how much room he actually has to work with.

Mikan doesn’t stop talking, so he puts his hand on her mouth to shush her. If she’s too loud, they might get caught and then their clandestine reunion would be over and he might not see her again for who knows how long. And then a watchman passes down below, so Natsume is temporarily distracted, intent on not being found out.

When he looks back at her, her eyes are welled up with tears and she’s holding the hand he placed over her mouth with both of hers. He’s surprised, because he never fully processed that she confessed her love to him too. That could’ve been a dream or a fantasy or a projection or wishful thinking or maybe it didn’t mean the same thing to her as it does to him. But she’s so happy to see him that she’s in tears, holding his hand like it’s precious and she doesn’t want him to disappear again.

It’s a confirmation again that his feelings really are requited, that she’s been wanting to see him too. For so long, he’d thought of himself as the last person she’d ever fall in love with. He’d been Team Ruka, because he’d taken himself out of the running. He just wants her to be happy and it really had never occurred to him in all that time that he could be the one to make her happy.

So he comes to close the distance too, leaning his head against hers. They haven’t seen each other in so long, and no doubt there’s a lot left unsaid, but just a moment of quiet affection, to show each other how much they’ve missed the other, is necessary. She says she’s missed him, and it would be redundant for him to say it back. He’s been searching for her tirelessly night and day for months. To say he missed her would be an understatement.

Now that she has his attention, she can ask her earlier question properly: how did he find her, anyway? He answers that she was calling him. The power of her missing him caused this to happen. There’s no other explanation. He’s only half teasing. He’d never imagined she would care for him romantically, so he wants to milk the situation for all it’s worth. It makes him happy to imagine that she can say over and over and in many different ways how much she misses and loves him.

When Mikan protests, he pouts, because he really thought her calling out to him and the power of their feelings for each other had brought them together. When she concedes that there might be some truth to his theory, he smiles. This is a real smile. He’d never imagined this kind of situation, and it’s all somewhat surreal and dreamlike, and it makes him happy that after all this time he actually can get almost everything he wants. The only thing that could make this better is if he could actually break her out of her prison.

He expresses dismay that he’s helpless to get her out of there. She assures him that it’s enough just seeing him, and then panics because she didn’t prepare a present for him even though he got her a storybook. So she asks if there’s anything he wants for a present that she can give right then and there and Natsume asks for a kiss.

Natsume has up to this point always stolen little moments from Mikan, thinking she’d never value them the way he does. Their last kiss, snuggling on New Year’s, his half hug to her in the RPG… It was all affection he had to steal. But if Mikan really does love him, then maybe he doesn’t need to steal anything anymore. He can ask for her to give it of her own volition, and she would do it because maybe she wants to kiss him too. He’s way more honest than he’s ever been, because he doesn’t have anything holding him back anymore. Not only is he no longer the school’s pawn, but he also doesn’t have to hold back with her either, because his feelings are requited. He can be honest about almost everything.

He's just being honest for once, Mikan.

What he wants is a kiss, and since she asked, he’ll tell her.

He pretends to fall a little, in the midst of her freaking out. He makes up a bogus story that he’s not secure on the ledge and will fall soon, so if she’s gonna do it she has to do it quickly. This is another instance of Natsume being selfish. This is one of the few things he wants for himself that has nothing to do with protecting other people. He must think she wants to kiss him too, even if she won’t admit it, because he probably wouldn’t ask if he thought she hated the idea.

He must be onto something, because Mikan does lean in to slowly kiss him, even though her face is red and she’s deeply embarrassed. They kiss for a while, not knowing that Shiki can see them. When they finally part, he asks her to do it again. She protests that it would make her heart explode to do it again, so he surrenders.

Fine. They don’t have to kiss again. But then she should tell him that she loves him. Properly. From her own mouth.

Jeez, he's so needy tonight.

Natsume has confessed two times to her of his own accord and one time on accident when she felt his feelings through telepathy. The only time she did the same was also through telepathy. She should be fully aware of his feelings for her, but he needs to hear it properly. The one time she’d confessed, they were about to be separated forever and it was a heart-wrenching moment for them both. On top of that, he’d never imagined such a thing and needs further confirmation that she really meant it.

When Mikan protests again that she already gave him what he wanted and that he hadn’t really said it properly either, he promises to say it after she does.

Natsume needs confirmation before he can say it right. Almost the entire time that he’s been in love with her, he’s been perpetually giving up. She should give her stone to Ruka, dance with Ruka, be with Ruka, because she obviously prefers him anyway. Natsume’s been particularly selfless about this, and it was easy because he thought she would never love him back. He wasn’t about to genuinely pursue her or obviously pine after her (though it ended up being kind of obvious anyway) because he could never win her over anyway. All the other reasons not to be with her--putting her in danger, not being able to offer her a future--are harder to focus on when she’s actually saying she does love him too. But they still matter, and he won’t confess and give in and finally put all his chips in for the idea of being a couple until she says it properly. Until he knows for sure she feels the same, it’s not worth it to risk everything else.

And she does say it.

Out loud. Properly. With her own mouth.

Natsume's smile can cure illnesses... Just... Not his own, of course.

So Natsume smiles another real genuine smile. Those were words he’d never imagined he’d actually hear from her. Despite all his efforts to distance himself, to make himself into the bad guy to protect her, to be cold and cruel, she still ended up seeing past all of it and loving him anyway.

He’s so excited and happy that he leans in again and wastes no time before confessing right back. This is a promise he can keep: he loves her too.

From now until forever, more than anyone else.

He’s twelve years old but he means it.

The adults at the academy didn’t take his feelings seriously enough. They thought that threats and violence were more powerful than his foolish puppy love. But nothing really is. He gave everything up for her, and will give up even more. He can’t promise forever but he will love her for that long anyway. For the rest of his life and for every second after his death.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Five

They’re kissing again. When they break apart, they’re both happy.

This whole rendezvous seems dream-like and surreal. She has her hair down and they’re both wearing outfits they don’t usually wear. It’s snowing and they’re both standing on the balcony. It would be easy to claim that it all is just a dream, like it’s happening only in the depths of Natsume’s most self-indulgent fantasies. It shouldn’t be possible, is only happening because of Shiki’s whims. It stands out to the reader too, because of all of these elements, and doesn’t blend into the reality of every other chapter or arc. That’s actually effective in making it dream-like for us too. Is this all really happening? Is this just a strong wish that took shape? Is it a dream?

I really don't have anything to say except that this is a really vulnerable question and it's amazing that Natsume has the courage to ask it now.

In any case, Natsume swears he will save Mikan from the tower she’s trapped in, like the prince he’s supposed to be. “Can you wait for me?” he asks, and it’s the reverse of all of Mikan’s earlier questions. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?” she had asked, because she wanted him around. And then later, when it seemed she’d disappear forever with Yuka, there was the unspoken question if he could wait it out, survive long enough to see her again. Now he’s asking her if she can wait for him too, if she can have faith that he won’t abandon her.

This is again almost literally a dream come true. Mikan is saying she loves him back. His feelings are requited. What he wants is to hold onto this with all his might. He will save her and they will be together. She just has to wait long enough for him to get her out. He wants her feelings to last that long, even if he’s not around.

And she smiles and agrees, promising that she will wait as long as it takes, until they can be together properly forever. But she has a caveat: she doesn’t want him to push himself to get her out. She wants him to live, but if he does “whatever it takes” he might die. In fact, there’s a certainty in his demise, and every coming chapter makes that more and more clear. They’re still star-crossed, more than ever actually. They’re not just paralleling Rapunzel here: they are also Romeo and Juliet, confessing their love on a balcony under the light of the moon and promising a forever that is not to be.

He hugs her, but there’s something about his expression and lack of proper response that is off-putting. He doesn’t promise not to push himself. He can’t. He’s made lots of promises that he will break, but he made them because he wanted them to be true. He cannot make this one. Mikan’s safety is more important to him than even their joined happiness. He will do anything for her, and he won’t promise that he won’t.

Just don't die. Why is that so hard for you, Natsume?

Changing the subject, there is now a flicker from under Mikan’s coat, coming from what she reveals to be yet another alice stone on her necklace. She reveals that she made it. He’s impressed with the size, because the one she gave him less than a year ago was a mere pebble.

Natsume is disappointed to only be one of the many inspirations for Mikan’s stone, and it might be more evidence to him that she may love him but he loves her more. He doesn’t voice this insecurity, but we can see it, and it might be even more a reason why he can’t promise not to push himself. She could probably get over him. She could survive without him. He can’t live without her. Thus, his existence can be traded in for her freedom, her happiness, her safety, and it would scar but heal. He loves her more, he thinks. She’s more important. He can and will die for her.

She calls the stone her heart, a result of all the love and care she has for everyone in her life, and entrusts said heart with Natsume. She wants him to have it, a more fitting version of the stone she gave him before. She then rejoices that the alice stone exchange is complete, so they’ll be happy together forever.

Natsume looks shocked again, and I’ll repeat myself by saying that he’s still not used to the idea that she feels so romantically about him as well. She is in love with him and wants to be with him forever, so much so that she wants to do over the alice stone exchange properly with a stone she’s proud of.

He calls her out for proposing to him, which embarrasses her but she admits she did have that intention. But he tells her that he applied the romantic intent first when he gave her his alice stone. Here he’s confessing that his romantic feelings are nothing new. He’s loved her since then, at least, and she’s been a dream of his all along.

If she’s handing over her stone--her heart--to him, then she’s fully reciprocating. She’s not just into him. If she wants her future to be entwined with his, for them to get married and live together forever, than this is no passing fancy for her. Thus, she is now his. He asserts that because he has to hear it. She only wants to be with him, right? Then she is his girl, nobody else’s. He doesn’t tell her that he’s hers because he considers it redundant. He’s hers. He’s been hers since she tackled him in that warehouse so long ago. He will be hers forever. This is the first time he’s considered that she would be his too.

I thought I should pay attention to the word "hate", but I should've focused on "remember". Yikes!

He presses the stone to his lips, ultimately showing her how precious her heart is to him, and tells her that he won’t ever give the stone back, even if she comes to hate him. There’s a lot to unpack in just this one declaration, but let’s get into it.

When I first read this, I thought it was foreshadowing of another kind. I was distraught, actually, because I thought maybe Mikan would come to hate him! That’s silly though. Mikan cannot hate Natsume. Not ever again. It’s not possible. Mikan saw the very worst of Natsume and still fell in love with him. That is true, unconditional love. She sees the beauty in him, sees a future with him, even when he wanted to only show her the darkness. But Natsume doesn’t get that her love is unconditional. He says, “even if you come to hate me”, like it’s even a possibility, but says “I will never give this stone back,” because hating her is not a possibility. Yet again, he’s underestimating her love for him. He loves her more.

In his mind, it’s possible that she could stop loving him. She could turn that affection into disdain. She could completely hate him. But he won’t. Not ever. Even if she hated him, he would love her. Even if she wanted her stone back, he wouldn’t give it to her. Even if she gets over him, he will never give up on her. He will be with her and hold onto that stone forever.

But perhaps he’s saying, “even if you come to hate me” like it is an impossibility. Maybe he realizes that she will never despise him again. Maybe he gets that. In that case, then he’s promising that nothing in the realm of plausible or implausible will cause him to let go of her heart. Because it’s not just a stone! She’s told him herself that it’s her heart, so this isn’t just a declaration of endless loyalty, love, and fidelity, it’s also a promise that he will protect her heart, because it is precious to him.

They're twelve years old. I'd giggle if I didn't take them so seriously. I have no right to laugh... This is part 26 of a very long essay about them. I suck.

Whatever he means exactly, Mikan is touched. She starts stammering, trying to say something but obviously too embarrassed to say it properly. When she finally finds the words, asking if this is all a proposal, he answers. Yes.

The moon is their witness.

Nobody else is there to see this (as they have no idea that Shiki is the one who arranged this and has been observing them all along), and after this ends there will be little evidence that this moment between them passed at all. It’s all so surreal, so unrealistic. But the moon bore witness, and they can rely on that for the rest of their lives.

Because, especially for Natsume, this night is something out of a fantasy, and he’ll need all the evidence he can get to hold onto it as reality.

But the moment doesn’t last forever, because Shiki has to end it at some point. The barrier is reinstated and Natsume falls.

He calls out to her but it’s to no avail. She can’t do anything to hold onto him, and he can’t hold on to her. The only way to make this happen again is to save her.

Shiki and the MSP discuss what he just did, and how Natsume and Mikan probably won’t ever meet again. And for all that fate is concerned, it’s true. They’re not meant to be.

I kinda want to cry now.

Natsume lies in the snow afterward, looking at the moon and gripping Mikan’s heart, holding onto the only proof he has that the moment truly occurred. Otherwise, he could easily be convinced it was just another daydream. It came and went so quickly, he needs the evidence, the witness. Natsume is newly engaged to be married, though when exactly that marriage was supposed to happen is anyone’s guess.

It’s not the world’s shortest engagement for sure, but it sadly won’t last.

They are fated for sure, to meet and fall in love. But he’s fated to die and their love was doomed from the start.

He won’t make it another week.

Conclusion

They're engaged now, their feelings intense. My feelings on their fate has evolved over the past couple parts. I now fully believe that they are soulmates, fated to love each other. I also believe that they were supposed to end in tragedy, that fate didn't want them to last. I'll probably talk way more about that in Mikan's part, but it's made me an even bigger fan of NatsuMikan, if that was even possible.

I have written the entire Natsume POV essay. It's all done. The end is a bit lacking, but that's not my fault. Still, I'm excited to wrap this up. I'll post updates four days a week as usual. I reckon there'll be less than two weeks worth of essay left before I've finished posting. I've talked about this a bit before, but I'm going to take a pretty lengthy break between this essay and Mikan's, because it was a huge project and it really exhausted me. I loved doing it, don't get me wrong, but I do need a break before I can do Mikan's, especially because I think hers will be much longer (I might be wrong about that, but it's the feeling I get). I probably won't touch Mikan's essays 'til January or February. In the meantime, I'll be working on fics again, so if you're interested in that, you're in luck!

Thank you for reading, folks. I hope you have a great day!

<- Previous Next ->

#gakuen alice #alice academy #hyuuga natsume #natsume hyuuga #natsumikan #sakura mikan #mikan sakura #my meta #ga #mine #ga meta #ga meta: nm #ga meta: manga #ga meta: manga nm #let's talk about natsumikan #let's talk about natsumikan: natsume #while editing i just listened to love bug by the jonas brothers over and over so u can count that as a song if u want.#but it doesnt do quite as much as kissing in cars by pierce the veil does!#literally every lyric fits them so well i think im gonna scream #anyway this is the last part of the essay where i can be entirely happy about their story #the rest of it is either heartbreaking or lowkey disappointing #kageki is nice and im a big fan but they were not focal at all so. again. disappointing.#im spoiled i just want endless nm content #alternately: im spoiled and i just want a decent nm ending #how sad and tragic for me

35 notes · View notes

myelocin · 3 years

Text

please know that i’m yours to keep | oikawa tooru

synopsis: a comfort for the days you feel like you’re everything but what you try so hard to be.

genre: fluff, comfort | warnings: suggestive themes | wc: 2000+

characters: oikawa tooru

a/n: this is a commissioned piece from @triskoof ;w;

the girl | city in colour

ko-fi | commissions

Because you’re always meant to be yours, Oikawa Tooru loves you in the way that reminds you of that.

Like the tips of his fingers just barely grazing the skin on your face, he has a habit of pulling back before fully cupping your cheek. The kind of warmth that hovers—never touches—but still lingers.

Moments like now are where you’re glad that traces of him still stay, because it reminds you that his presence was meant to be one of the things that was lasting within a world that truly was anything but.

“I don’t feel beautiful,” you say, and Oikawa thinks the look in your eyes holds nothing but your most vulnerable truth.

And he supposes that he understands, because our thoughts aren’t just thoughts at the end of the day. Intertwined with them are the emotions that come as feelings, with the intention to be felt to the end and not just realized as a passing epiphany.

So, “Beautiful,” he replies, tasting the word on his tongue before swallowing it whole hoping that the heart from his truth would reach the words he always holds for you.

And he’s gentle, with not just the look in his eye, but also his honesty, when he says, “You.”

He cups your face in between his hands, and warm, you think.

They’re warm, because he’s here, and because he’s true.

He kisses you; the first on your forehead, right as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The second, on the tip of your nose, as he says the word beautiful, again, right before he mutters your name.

Your name, Hailey, as just six letters from the alphabet strung together to make a sound just this morning, but suddenly turned into your whole truth laid bare as Oikawa kisses you again.

You realize that it’s your truth in not just the objective sense, but more so because it’s one of the few things that would always be your constant.

“You’re beautiful,” Oikawa mutters again, then lets his face hover just inches away from yours as he leans down, pressing his lips against yours. Phrases from him to you, which speak of not just his love, but also both his respect and awe, are mumbled in between the kisses he gives you.

In his arms you keep yourself still—pliant, even, as you let your body mold into his arms. And you feel safe, doing so. The thoughts in your head simmer from screaming into just whispers, but even as you still hear them poke and prod at you, Oikawa’s voice is what’s immediate in thundering over those which are unwelcome.

“Why aren’t you nice to yourself?” he asks, and in your moment of absolute vulnerability, you look at him and allow yourself to crack.

You don’t necessarily break, because you’ve always believed that a person can never fully be broken, but the cracks of your hurt run deeper in some places. The word beautiful rings in your head, like an echo you can’t seem to get rid of, but you want to shake it away.

Glassy brown eyes mean to peer at you and offer comfort, but it’s the ugly cracks of your resolve that come to you and whisper in your ear that you are anything but beautiful, when you see a reflection of yourself against them.

“Sometimes,” you sigh, taking the liberty of pulling yourself back and parting from him, “—it’s just hard to feel like you’re something.”

“Beautiful feels like a different person, Tooru,” you confess.

“Have you always felt this way?” he asks, ushering you to follow him to bed and making space for you to lie down in beside him. When you settle, he lies beside you, his face just inches away from yours once more.

“Some days,” you express, shrugging your shoulders. “Yeah.”

Your some days, meaning that there really are moments where it feels like you have to constantly tell yourself that you are still beautiful that it becomes redundant enough to the point of sound like a drawl.

Tonight’s one of those days.

You’re a little more cracked than composed, so you let yourself be and hang on to Oikawa who you know has never wavered.

Intimacy in the little moments shared like this, but because today you feel like you’re everything but what you should be feeling and seeing things in every way but the way you should be seeing them—like yourself—you close your eyes when your reflection flashes across Oikawa’s again.

Intimacy like trust, because you know here, you are safe.

His palm that’s quick to move up and rest against the expanse of your cheek says “I love you.”

But it’s his voice, that makes his truth be known through words as he says, “You’re always gonna be beautiful.”

“Not for now,” you shake your head.

Oikawa chuckles, murmuring something you couldn’t quite catch as he leans forward again to press a kiss at the tip of your nose. In response, you close your eyes, comfortable in the warmth he emits.

“For now is just that,” he hums. “You can’t always be on your own side or see things in the lighter way, but I’m here,” he smiles. “My eyes are open and they still you.”

“My beautiful girl,” he adds.

Through the strands of your hair that fell across your eyes, you see Oikawa offer you his honest kind of smile before propping himself up on one elbow to lean over you. He moves with purpose, but keeps his eyes on yours.

When he gets close enough, he smiles, again, and even if the thoughts in your head still rage with the intention to nestle within the cracks they made to grow and root themselves, you push them to the side in hopes they would quell.

(They don’t.)

But Oikawa’s voice reaching out to you—and arriving, hushes them again.

In the silence he builds with his words and presence alone, you release the tenseness of your muscles and sigh, holding up one hand just as Oikawa lets his down, both of your palms cradling the other’s cheeks.

Then it’s within the darkness where the two of you lay, eye to eye and face to face as the sunset in the sky shifts into the beginnings of the blue hour.

The blue hour, you recall, is the time of day that happens in the morning and night. The in between that bridges night and day, setting the scene for the transition. From black to blue at six AM, right before the sky erupts into shades of vanilla. Then, when it’s six at night—like right now, it’s the burnt orange of today’s sunset mellowing into the depth of blue.

You know it’ll turn dark soon.

But you stare straight into Oikawa’s eyes anyway, hoping to drown out the sounds of your demons with the hues of earth and reflected fragments of the sky within the two perfect orbs that look at you, as if you hold constellations.

In the blue hour—the inbetween—you let yourself be still and fall.

And at the sight of your surrender, Oikawa leans down and kisses you. His lips on your neck, starting from the spot right behind your ear, trailing down to the tops of your collarbone, he mumbles your name in between the traces of him he intertwines with you.

His name, from your lips, sounding like just a breathless whisper to the ears of the world is like a sort of lifeline for him to hang on to, because through the haze he’s aware you probably are seeing the world with in your moments of weakness—you still are with him.

So he holds you.

His legs on either side of your waist, and arms on either sides of you, he nips at the skin of your exposed neck, leaving a mark. “You’re beautiful like this,” he winks at you, all the while as you laugh, knowing full well that his words are fueled with the intent to lighten the situation.

It works, because in the soft light of the blue hour, you wait as he raises his head from your chest, your stare steady, meaning to lock with his. At the sight of you, Oikawa holds your gaze, a light smile against his lips.

“You’re just saying that,” you laugh, peering down and moving your hands to brush away his bangs that fell across his eyes.

At the sight of your earth—your world within this world—you soften. It’s only as you peered underneath the underneath where you realized that Oikawa was just a man who still had his flaws beneath the porcelain mask he wore.

“I say things because I mean them,” he tells you, and from the steadiness of his voice, there’s nothing in you that tells you to doubt him.

So you do the logical thing and believe him.

In the blue hour you make your hurts be known, finding words to string together to atleast give the hurt a name, and Oikawa listens.

But none the less, he tells you you’re beautiful, through the silence that he blankets around the room, and by the way he moves with you. He kisses you on your forehead again, tenderly, before capturing your lips with his. And love, you think—right then and there—has always felt like patience with him.

Slow kisses under your ceiling with the glow in the dark stickers in the shape of distant galaxies and stars, it has you feeling infinite.

His hands that know the contour of your body: from the dip on your waist to the scar that’s barely even there right by your thigh. He touches you like he would glass, fragile. And he breathes your name like he would whisper his confessions—and you know they’re all of love.

(You are in love.)

As in love as you are, you also are reminded that emotions can move like waves.

One day you feel beautiful, then in the next you don’t.

Emotions will always be raw, because at the very core of what they are—that’s just their nature. The ugly parts of it can come like a whirlwind some days instead of creep in slow and slam against your foundations, getting cracks to form in deep.

But, the beautiful will still remain, you think.

Beautiful like the earth of Oikawa’s eyes staring at you as if you hold all the constellations in the skies.

The silence comes and goes, and beautiful is the way he holds you when night comes and darkness floods the room. He still feels you against him, your skin a familiar kind of warmth against his, while the calluses of his palms don’t scare you even as he trails them under your shirt and over the bare skin of your chest.

“You’re beautiful,” he says again, and Oikawa knows that it’s only been those two words that you’ve heard from him again and again throughout the night, but the more he wracks his brain for a better set of words to say—the less actually comes to him.

He tries to show you, none the less.

And it isn’t just in the intimacy of sex where he lays himself bare to you too, but it’s also through this that he hopes to convey his whole truth to you, in hopes that you’d see you through his eyes to get you through the aches of your today.

Oikawa’s aware that perhaps tomorrow, you’ll rise again.

But it’s this for now where he reminds you of the infinity he’s always known you’ve held.

“I love you,” when he pushes inside you, and “I love you,” again, when he hears you sniffle at the emotions that he knows just overwhelm.

“You’re beautiful,” you know he means to say when he leans down anyway and brushes the hair away from your forehead to press his against it. “You’re beautiful,” you hear again, when his thumb brushes over the scars you know have long healed across your body, then at the shell of your ear right after he whispers your name, again.

(And your name is beautiful.)

Most days you think it is, but because today it’s a word that’s a little hard to say, you hang on to him and allow his truth to come to you and wrap you whole.

Oikawa feels you hold on to him, so he holds you too—centering you back to the now.

You’re probably a mess underneath him, you think. Lipstick from earlier still wasn’t wiped off and he’s probably kissed you a hundred times now. Your clothes are crumpled, your shirt pushed up at best and your underwear just shoved to the side in his haste, but he says beautiful again, and again, as if it’s the first he’s truly seeing you.

(Perhaps it is.)

(The face of vulnerability has always looked different every time, after all.)

The now is a moment of vulnerability, so you let him hold you.

And because Oikawa knows you’re always meant to be yours, he shows that he loves you forever, by holding you and giving you a safe space to just feel the things that come.

“I don’t feel okay,” is your moment of weakness, because you’re still human.

But in Oikawa’s wordless way of conveying “I love you,” and “You’re beautiful,” do you feel the assurance that even though days like this come and try to drown you—you’ll always have your boy with two eyes holding the earth who will keep your head from going under.

#nc.commissions #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #hq x reader #hq scenarios #hq imagines #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru scenarios #oikawa tooru fluff #oikawa tooru imagines #oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa scenarios #oikawa fluff

128 notes · View notes