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#with the artist despite them being a fucking stranger and it's WEIRD and more than anything it's fucking ANNOYING

hella1975 · 9 months

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hi hella do you have thoughts on the tiktokification of ethel cain (given her leaving social medias) anyway sorry if you dont i just love the way you think xx

i think a very simplified explanation of what tiktok does to music and why it fundamentally always Grates on me is that people on tiktok cannot just listen to a song. it's no longer enough to enjoy a song or an artist. you're not a 'true fan' if you just simply listen to the music and find any level of enjoyment from it. you have to instead know every single lyric, and every meaning of that lyric, and then when that isn't enough because the masses are now also doing that, you then need to know what the artist's thought process was for the lyrics, where they were when they wrote it, exactly what they mean by it. interpretation is no longer allowed because the 'true fans' correct you with what the artist said in a niche interview from 2019 and 'if you really liked the song you would know that'. it doesnt matter what the song means to YOU because it now needs to be consumed in the Exact Way Tiktok Says It Should Be. and then of course it all becomes narrower and narrower and all the while the fans are TEARING the artists apart in an attempt to be the one individual listening to them most often and most correctly and with the most thorough understanding, and the artist is just. some guy. like literally just a person behind a screen reading every stupid as fuck thing and seeing the same stupid as fuck comments over and over and over again and it's like yeah. that would drive me fucking insane too actually

#there is no correct way of consuming media. like this need to be special and the snobbery it creates is something even ive been guilty of #like i will say ive only ever joked about it (like i made a post a while ago about tiktokers not realising gibson girl #was about drugs and prostitution) but i cant think of a time ive ever been ACTUALLY pissed about it #and that was more me being annoyed the tiktok crowd had got ethel cain anyway like IN GENERAL lol #but people on tiktok are actually IN that mindset. like they truly believe there's a correct way to listen to music #and they WILL police you on it if you dont adhere to that and they NEED it to be memeable so they can feel like they have inside jokes #with the artist despite them being a fucking stranger and it's WEIRD and more than anything it's fucking ANNOYING #and at the end of the day someone who listens to gibson girl bc it hypes them up and they have no idea about the lyric meaning #or its context in the rest of the album or in fact who ethel cain even is #are doing just as much justice to the art as people who listen to every single song religiously and know every single meaning #ultimately music is created to make people feel things. art is created to make people feel things #if you felt something listening to it then great. that is literally the only requirement needed. you dont need the artist's social security #number and worst traumatic experience in order to be considered thee fan of all time #ask

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theladygazingatemptiness · 2 years

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on the topic of early dA... see the reason why I’m so protective of young artists now is bc the overall culture of the art community as a whole during the late 2000s to early 2010s was so extremely hostile towards beginners and kids like.. when I first started posting traditional art online in 2009 it was not only socially acceptable to verbally attack (not critique, Verbally Attack) young artists it was lowkey encouraged and I saw Dozens of literal children get cursed out and called horrible names and told to stop drawing and to kill themselves and etc by adults bc they Drew Arms Weird or w/e and then being gaslit into thinking that They were the bullies and the bad guys for getting their feelings hurt and told that they just “”couldn’t take critique”” and sometimes it would escalate to the point where it would turn into a straight up harassment campaign against the 13 y/o who Dared to get upset about some 25 y/o loser with no actual desire to see them improve calling them names and the few people brave enough to actually go “hey um that’s kinda not ok and going too far actually??” would have a harassment campaign against Them too and I remember putting something like “feel free to be harsh and insult me/my art!!” in my bio even though I Knew I was extremely sensitive bc I wanted to seem like Someone Who Could Take Critique(TM)

and plus back then the “cringe culture is dead” mindset wasn’t really a thing yet (hell “cringe culture” wasn’t even a popularized term until maybe 2016) so Bad Art Blogs/Accounts were all the rage and the only Socially Acceptable reaction to having your art stolen and mocked behind your back to thousands of strangers on the internet was to just smile, force out a laugh, and nod; react in any way that’s Slightly more negative than that and you were labeled an Oversensitive Butthurt Killjoy and You would be blamed for having the audacity to post art that The Mods Didn’t Think Was Good or w/e bc how Dare that 12 y/o kid draw things that aren’t extremely photorealistic and detailed!!! how Dare that beginner artist not have a 100% perfect grasp on anatomy the very first time they pick up a pencil!! how Dare a young artist putting out free content for fun not be perfect!! if you don’t come out of the womb producing Van Gogh-quality artwork you deserve to be bullied and harassed, apparently!!

and so all of that made me incredibly insecure about my own art for Years and when I first started drawing digitally I wouldn’t post anything I drew online bc I was terrified of being dogpiled; I remember when I first made my art blog in 2013 and for over a year I was living in Constant paranoia that my art would be showcased on a Bad Art Blog and that everyone would hate me bc my anatomy wasn’t great or w/e. but now, looking back, posting art online is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made and I’ve allowed myself to grow as an artist and I’m glad I didn’t suppress my hobby to appeal to people who don’t and will never have my best interest in their mind.

so basically: I’m here for young artists, I’m here for beginners, I’m here for people struggling to learn how to draw, bc nobody was there for them back then. my advice: Please keep drawing. Please keep sharing your art with the world. Please don’t be afraid of imperfections. despite what Art Snobs might have hammered into your brain, it is Not a fucking crime to not have a complete grasp on anatomy, or not to be well educated in color theory yet, or etc. you don’t deserve to be bullied or mistreated for it. you never did.

#wak #spice tag #this turned into a ramble but. I feel Very Strongly about this #vent /#art positivity #so others can see it I guess #long post #essay post

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runekeepershymnal · 2 years

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I think I am prepared to say that I am kinda not okay. I have been way worse, and there are so many people who have it far, far worse right now, so conisder what all is under the read more as just me needing to type someplace out somewhere besides my journal. It’s long.

I have been off for the past few days. At least, I think it's been the past few days; it's hard to tell because my sense of time is a little fucked right now. I know it’s hormonal, partially. Holler at me if you want links to abstracts about how people with ovaries still firin’ off the ol’ eggs can find their ADHD made worse with hormones at different parts of the cycle.

That may be part of it, but I also know it’s not just that. I feel a bit isolated because I am, despite being able to go out a lot more than I was a few weeks ago.

I’m away from the two friends other than my spouse I was able to see in person on a regular basis.

I have finished all my classes with my most supportive professor.

My closest fellow classmate graduated at the end of last semester.

There’s also some frustrations with living in a new place, many of which are just me being a judgmental, awkward jackass who doesn’t know how to talk to people.

I have yet to see a single outfit on a white person (singled out because this town is very white, I am also white, and the majority of the people who aren’t white who I’ve seen down here have been killing it, fashion-wise) that deviates even a little bit from the median here.

Just sensible ponytails on everyone with long hair.

Not one punk. Not one butch. Not one goth.

I admittedly live in the suburbs, and I’m sure if I got in closer to the city, I would see more variety.

Because I am southern, and have a southern U.S. accent (hybrid costal southern and southern Appalachian, if anyone wants specifics), I feel like I’m getting looked at like I’m insane. It’s true, I do fill silences with little southern quips, often self-depreciating.

I am one of the few, non-50+ people who still wears a mask indoors. I make a point to smile under it, including with my eyes, and it seems to weird people out?

There have been several strangers who have been absolutely lovely and kind to me, and I appreciate every one of them, and I hope to return the favor / pay it forward.

I brought one of my cats to their new local vet, and was hit with a longing for our previous vet that felt like homesickness. She was so, so lovely, adored both our cats, including my vicious old granny cat, and always complimented any of my rainbow gear, and was always so kind to me about being a pretty neurotic cat parent. There was nothing WRONG with this vet, she was very professional, and she might grow to be fond out our cats in time, but… she just wasn’t Dr. Katie, or Rachael, the incredible angel of a tech.

I’ve joined a local discord server, but it’s pretty enormous, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to make it out to one of their events. Some folks have been pretty nice, so I’m hoping to maybe make some local friends there.

Then there’s the sense of self / aging / paranoia / worry / feelings of horrible inadequacy.

Much as I do not want to have my sensible ponytail anymore, I am now weirdly afraid that, at 42, my usual pixie cuts will just be seen as “how do you do, fellow kids” trying to seem younger than I am.

I usually give zero fucks what anyone thinks of my appearance as long as I like it, and usually that doesn’t even matter to me because, unless there are mirrors present, I don’t really have to look at it either.

Why the fuck am I afraid that if I go to the gender-affirming, trans-friendly salon staffed with they/them hair artists that I’m gonna get judged? That if I show them a picture of Benthe De Vries’ haircut that they will be laughing about me in the back?

I’m still in pain from the physical efforts of moving (which, given that those efforts aren’t really done yet, kind of makes sense). Apparently I am now of an age, and so out of shape, that those efforts make me feel like I’ve been pushed down a never-ending staircase like in that Don Hertzfeldt “Rejected” cartoon. I have also apparently fucked up my right wrist by lifting things too heavy for me, and that is my dominant hand, so while I have it braced, it’s not really something I can rest.

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Description: A black and white animated gif of a stick figure child falling down a seemingly never ending flight of stairs from the 1999 Don Hertzfeldt short animated film "Rejected"

I still haven’t gotten an internship or a job, speaking of “Rejected,” but a lot of that is because I haven’t applied to very much. I’ve been reworking my resume, but at this point, I pretty much have to admit that I’m procrastinating because if I don’t try, when I fail, I can tell myself that it’ll be fine, as long as I try my hardest next time.

I’ve been having a lot of physical dysphoria lately. Rationally, I know that by its very definition, there is no NB body type. Right now, though, I really feel like my body type should be… not this. I am short, I have wide hips, and I have cartoonishly large tits that even a custom binder can’t really mitigate.

Reduction isn’t really an option unless I can make a medical case for it through insurance, which I might be able to do. But there’s other shit that I worry about, unfounded, as well. If I get a reduction, will my spouse still find me attractive? I feel like an asshole for even wondering that, because while it took him a while to get his head around the whole NB thing, it’s been like… ten years, and it’s not really fair of me to be mad at him for having needed some time to sort out his feelings. Especially when we’ve talked about it.

The discords I’m in have quieted down a lot, and that’s normal, lulls happen, there’s a lot of shit going on in the world. But my fucked up little brain keeps whispering that it’s somehow my fault.

I really need to quit looking at Twitter, because at this point watching the latest shit go down in the TTRPG community involving Velvetine Firebird and Some Guy is depressing. I’ve spent hours just going through and blocking and reporting horrible people, despite knowing that they’re just gonna be back with another account. I don’t engage with them, I know better than that, at least, but why the fuck do I still look at twitter??

I’m just feeling tired, and gross, and old, and kinda a bag of low-key despair.

#tangentially related to fandom #asynchronous screw loose #just… me bein’ a fucked up little guy #dysphoria #getting older #looking for work #homesickness

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youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

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Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 4

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Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2877

Additional note: This is the final chapter. There'll be an epilogue, but you'll have to wait a bit because there are a lot of challenges I've signed up for and I'm way behind schedule.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

Devastated and angry at the world. That's how Ivar is feeling.

Holed up in his room since the night before, and despite Lagertha incessant requests, he doesn’t plan to come out, not now at least. Come to think of it, he might as well decide never to leave his room again.

He can't stand the idea of facing his brothers. He doesn't want to have to tell them about his failure. He doesn't want to endure Ubbe's pity and condescendence. He doesn't want to see the look of triumph on Sigurd's face. The thought makes his stomach lurch while at the same time a murderous urge creeps into his mind. No, he definitely can't see his brothers.

Surprisingly, and unlike Lagertha, his brothers have left him alone, as if sensing that entering his room would be as moving into a minefield. Only Hvitserk had taken a chance earlier, cautiously poking his head through the door. His disapproving look obvious when his eyes had taken in the scene before him, Ivar's belongings scattered on the floor, some of them smashed into pieces.

"I got you a chocolate muffin from the kitchen, baby bro," he had explained, putting it on a nearby shelf, and it had almost brought a smile to Ivar's face. To Hvitserk, there's no predicament that can't be improved with comfort food.

"Look, Ivar," scratching his neck, Hvitserk had then said, "I don't know what happened and I don't want to pressure you. You tell me when you're ready, if you are. But I'm here, okay? Whatever the time of day or night, you don't have to be alone if you don't want to. If I'm upstairs, just call me, okay?" With these words, he was gone, the door closed.

Ivar can't get the events of the previous evening out of his mind. Like a waking nightmare, they are playing over and over in his head: how he had freaked out when he heard the beeps; the confused and then so disappointed look you had given him when he sputtered his need to leave; finally, his shameful escape into the night.

What could he have done? What should he have done?

He does know the answer. He should have been more cautious. He should have checked the time, asked for your number and just walked away.

On the other hand, what difference would it have made? He would still have no future with you, right? He would still be a cripple, and you would still be... you... perfect... too good for him.

So yeah, he had run away like a coward. He lets out a bitter chuckle to himself. Run away? Who is he kidding? He hadn't run away, that would have been too easy. Cripples don't run away. Without his cane – why the fuck did he leave it behind?? – he had pathetically limped away, stumbling, his feet sinking into the sand. He had still been on the beach when the battery had died. He had had no other choice but to crawl like a worm the rest of the way, silently praying to the gods that the darkness of the night would prevent you from seeing him like this.

Tears of despair run down his cheeks for the umpteenth time. He's used to feeling humiliated, but feeling humiliated and heartbroken simultaneously is really too much to take. He feels like he's dying from the inside over and over again, cursing himself for wanting to attend the party, for wanting to see you again. He should never have let his walls down, he should never have dared to hope. What was he thinking? He may have walked, and even danced with you, but at the end of the day, he still is a pitiable cripple with stupid, crooked legs, in love with a girl way out of his league.

If he's being honest, that's what hurts the most. He now realizes how delusional he had been. Holding on to a dead dream for years, he had not forseen the painful yet unavoidable reality check. And now, it's like he's been hit by a train. Because there's no denying it, dreaming of a life with you is no longer an option, not after last night. And even though it's almost unbearable, he knows now he has to let go of you, of the idea of you and him being together. As much as this mere thought is devastating, he has no other choice. He has to stop fooling himself, for his own sanity, if nothing else.

Giving a guttural cry, much like that of a wounded animal, Ivar doesn't hear when the front doorbell rings. Not that he would have reacted even if he had heard it, too busy wallowing in self-pity.

***

"Thank you for having us here on such short notice, my dear." Your uncle states joyfully, his eyes sparkling, as Lagertha greets him with a handshake and a tight-lipped smile. Even though you don't know why, it's obvious that she's not his biggest fan.

Your uncle, who doesn't seem to notice – or doesn't care, you're not sure – keeps giving her a beaming smile. "My niece here," he turns his head toward you for a short moment, "has a weird request. She met a boy yesterday, during the party. He lost something and my sweet Y/N has been adamant since this morning that she wants to find him and personally return it to him. We were wondering," he turns his gaze in the direction of the couch, "if it could be one of your wards."

There are indeed three young men, half sprawled on the couch, who get up as one when Lagertha gives them a stern look. If you vaguely remember having seen them before, a single glance is enough for you to know that the one you're looking for is not among them.

You're on the verge of saying so but your uncle doesn't give you a chance to. "See boys," he unceremoniously grabs the cane you're holding behind your back, "here is the lost item. A cane! Fairly uncommon, if you ask me. Anyway... Does this... thing belong to any of you?"

Since you know it doesn't, you're surprised when two of the guys both take a step forward. "Actually, it's mine," they say in unison, each of them only then becoming aware that the other is speaking.

Dumbstruck, you look at one then the other successively. They've got a lot of nerve! You know they're lying, and you would have known it even if these two idiots hadn't spoken at the same time. They just look nothing like your handsome stranger – if he's a stranger.

"Sigurd, you know it's mine!"

"Don't play dumb, you never use a cane, Ubbe! Whereas me, I do sometimes. Everyone knows artists tend to be eccentric, right?"

The blondest one – Sigurd if you heard right – points his finger at a guitar leaning against the wall and then winks at you, "I'm a musician, you know?" You don't even have time to roll your eyes as the other one – Ubbe? – yells, his nostrils flaring.

"Shut up Sig, you're so full of shit! You know I've got a sprained ankle!"

"A sprained ankle, no kidding? Who did a ten-kilometer run today, huh? It's not me! So, you are the one going to shut up, you fucking douchebag!"

It's almost funny to watch them arguing back and forth. If you weren't so pissed off, you'd laugh. But right now, you're mostly mad at them. Their blatant lies make your blood boil with anger.

Are they really thinking you're a complete idiot? That you can be fooled so easily? Who do they think they are? Who do they think you are? Some stupid chick ready to fall for their good looks? If they think that, they're kidding themselves.

"You're the fucking douchebag, Sig!! Don’t forget I'm the oldest!"

"And what's the difference, huh? You can't have all the girls, Ubbe! Keep fucking Margrethe and just let me be! Stop being a controlling asshole!"

"STOP!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!"

Lagertha's shout is deafening and if looks could kill, these two morons would be lying dead on the floor right here, right now.

"Y/N, my dear," Lagertha gives you an apologetic smile, "I'm so sorry for that. I swear they usually know how to behave, better than that at least. Guess they don't know how to handle your striking beauty. Now sweetheart, tell me, is one of these two knuckleheads the one you were with last night?"

The silence that falls on the room after her question is so complete that you could hear a pin drop. Acutely aware that all eyes are on you, you shyly lower your gaze, shaking your head slightly, as you clasp your hands over your belly. You eventually speak, your eyes meeting Lagertha's, and you can see she knows what you're going to say. "No, the guy I was with last night is not one of them."

"How can you be so sure?" Sigurd's voice is soft and tentative now, and Ubbe adds, seemingly for once in agreement with his younger brother, "yeah, how can you? It was pretty dark after all."

You give them a smile. "How can I be so sure? You mean beside the fact that you obviously don't need a cane? Neither of you?" The third brother, who still hasn't opened his mouth, chuckles, giving you a thumbs up. "Look, I appreciate your interest, I really do, but neither of you are the one I am looking for. Therefore," you look at your uncle, "we should leave, don't you think?" Checking the time on your watch, you shrug. "What about the Eyvindsson family? Didn't you tell me about three brothers? We may have time to go and see them tonight if we hurry."

Your uncle nods, handing you back the cane. "You're right, Y/N, we should leave." Taking two steps forward, he grabs Lagertha's hand. "Sorry dear, we will waste no more of your time."

You're about to thank her when one of the boys clears his throat. "Ahem..."

Turning your head, you're surprised to see the third brother, the silent one, raising his hand. "I think I might know who this cane belongs to." Frowning, he glances at his brothers. "And you both know it too."

"Shut up, Hvitserk!" Sigurd spits, clenching his hands into fists. "Don't bring the fucking cripple into the conversation."

"Sigurd! Keep your mouth shut!" Lagertha glares at him for several long seconds then her face softens as she looks at Hvitserk, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What are you trying to say, Hvitserk? Do you think this cane belongs to your baby brother?"

Hvitserk nods. "I know it does, actually."

"Come on, Hvit, you're talking nonsense. It cannot be, it just cannot. That guy was standing. It wasn't our brother. Our brother wasn't there last night." Ubbe stubbornly insists, but Hvitserk just shakes his head.

"Of course, he was. I saw him. And don't bullshit me, Ubbe, you saw him too. With Y/N." Hvitserk states. That's when you realize that your palms are sweating and your pulse is racing.

Hvitserk keeps going, now speaking to his guardian. "I know what I saw, Lagertha. It was him. I don't know how, but he was standing, Ubbe is right. He was even walking. It may sound weird but I swear, it was him."

Lagertha nods. "I believe you, Hvitserk." A beaming smile spreads across her lips and she tilts her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if Floki had something to do with such a miracle. Go get your brother, Hvitserk, please."

Your heart leaps at these words, you're barely able to contain your excitement and as you let out a nervous chuckle, you cannot help but jump for joy. Needless to say, Ubbe and Sigurd seem much less enthusiastic than you.

***

Reluctantly following his brother, Ivar mutters under his breath, "you're pissing me off, Hvit. I'm fucking not in the mood for whatever you have in mind."

Hvitserk pays him no mind though, a small smile dancing on his lips. "Trust me, baby bro, you'll be in the mood."

Ivar wants to protest, or maybe just turn around and wheel back to his room but all at once the sound of your voice reaches his ears and he stops, frozen in place, his eyes wide open. He may have stopped breathing.

Patting his shoulder reassuringly, Hvitserk whispers, "It's Y/N, baby bro, but I have a feeling you already know. She's here for you, she was looking for you, Ivar. Go..." before giving a single push to his brother's wheelchair, his right hand on the backrest.

Ivar honestly doesn't know how he manages to wheel himself into the living room. What he does know, however, is that you're suddenly standing right in front of him. The heart stopping smile you flash him blows all the air out of his lungs, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, and the outside world – Lagertha, his brothers, Harald – ceases to exist.

A little voice tells him he should be feeling self-conscious with his hair all messy and wearing worn sweatpants, but he can't bring himself to care, not when you kneel in front of him with stars in your eyes.

"Here you are, finally," you breathe, gently placing a hand on his knee. Ivar didn't know until now that one could die of happiness, but that's exactly what he's feeling and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Swallowing, he blinks several times. When he speaks, his voice trembles, his bottom lip quivering. "Hello Y/N, you were... looking for... for me?" He has trouble getting the words out, his nervous fingers fidgeting on his lap.

Grabbing both his hands in yours, you nod, your thumbs stroking his knuckles tenderly. "I was, yes, and for a very long time."

Shyly lowering his head, Ivar, almost feeling dizzy, can't wrap his head around your words. They're just too good to be true. "But... why?"

"Why?" You giggle, your laughing eyes lighting up your face, and he's positive, you're even more beautiful like this. "Isn't it obvious? I want to know more about you, what's your favorite color, what you eat for breakfast, where you see yourself in ten years. I just want to spend time with you, Ivar."

'Ivar' You've just said his name and it's like the sweetest music to his ears. He can't believe it. Wow. "You... You recognized me?" There's so much hope and joy in his voice, he cringes.

You shrug, your smile never leaving your lips. "I wasn't sure at first. You've changed a lot." Your hand cups his cheek. The sensation on his skin is so overwhelming he has to hold back the tears threatening to gush. Yet, he can't help but think you're speaking about his legs.

He grits his teeth. "Yeah... Standing tall can change a man."

"No! no, no, no," you retort without missing a beat, "That's not what I meant. In my memory you still looked like you did when we were ten, but look at you now, all grown up! Your hair was so short back then." Reaching out, you brush a strand of hair back and tuck it behind his ear before letting your fingers run slowly down and up his bulging biceps, your hand finally lingering on his forearm, "Plus, you clearly work out a lot. So, yeah, I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure. When we were dancing last night, I thought I'd ask you right after, but then you left and... well... I didn't have a chance..."

Ivar wraps his fingers around yours, a frown creasing his forehead. "About that, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left like–"

You shush him, holding a finger to his lips. "It doesn't matter, Ivar. You don't have to explain. All that matters is that I found you." Standing up, you lean forward and gently kiss his cheek and he feels like he's floating. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you whisper in his ear, "I reckon we got some lost time to make up, you and me. Can we go stargazing now?"

Hearing this makes Ivar's insides turn to jelly. Barely able to think, he is on cloud nine and wishes with all his heart never to come back down to earth again. But despite the daze, despite the fog in his head, despite the blinding happiness, he knows one thing: no matter how many stars he sees, you'll be the brightest one.

"Yes, Y/N, you're right," bringing your hand to his mouth, he gives it a kiss, "let's go stargazing."

And as he leaves the room, you walking alongside him with your hand on his shoulder, his heart filled with joy and wonder, he doesn't miss the thumbs up Hvitserk gives him, nor the scowl on Ubbe's and Sigurd's faces.

For a fleeting second, he thinks he should – he could – taunt them. They deserve to be laughed at, don't they? But then, he realizes he doesn't have time for that. The time for happiness has come, and it's far more important.

Giving you a beaming smile, Ivar inhales deeply before releasing a sigh of satisfaction. Yeah. Happiness. Happiness sounds good.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar’s taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

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reidsconverse · 3 years

Text

memories • spencer reid

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: none! just 4000 words of pure angst

This was an old fic reworked to be about around spencer so its taking a lottt of creative/artistic liberty with the character, so it kinda sucks im sorry! 😁

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Every moment you had with him was one to be remembered and cherished for better or worse.

It had been a few weeks since Spencer had officially ended things, he had moved all of his stuff out of your apartment and now it seemed as if he had never even existed in the same place as you, as though you two were strangers. That is had it not been for the images of memories the two of you held. So, here you were sat alone in your room, your only company the half-empty bottle of wine and photographs of the two of you which sat strewn carelessly across your floor.

You picked up a picture and stared at it realising you both looked so happy. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, a cup in his hand and his signature grin sitting across his face. Your head was leaning against his shoulder, the smile on your face reminding you of how free you had felt that night, you had never felt happier and you recognised that night as the night you realised...you were so in love.

"We should have a party," Spencer yelled despite there being no one else other than the two of you in the room.

"Right now?" You looked at him as if he was insane, not only was it completely out of character for your boyfriend but also, it was 1 am on a Wednesday and although your friends weren't those with a regular schedule you presumed most of them would decline a house party in the middle of the week.

"Yeah right now, c'mon doll I'll call Derek and some of the others and you call your friends." His hand was already on his phone texting Derek before you could protest so you followed his instructions and went ahead and invited your friends before getting up and preparing for this impromptu party.

It had only been 10 minutes when you heard Derek and some others open the door shouting for Spencer and you walked over with a grin on your face, "Hey D, Spencers being a diva and redoing his hair, he'll be right down." You said, rolling your eyes as Derek pulled you into a hug, he may have been Spencer's best friend but he thought of you as a sister and always treated you as such.

"Well I have look good for my girl," You heard Spencer say from behind you quickly placing a kiss on your cheek before doing his weird handshake with Derek, "Hey, thanks for coming'."

The three of you made your way to the kitchen to grab some drinks and greet some more guests who had congregated in that area and before you knew it, you were 4 shots in, feeling way past tipsy and in the mood to dance.

"Hey Spence," You said walking over to where he was now sat, a cup in his hand as he held a conversation with JJ and Emily about something that you didn't care too much about. You waved a quick hello to the girls so as not to be rude and then placed your head on his shoulder to let him know of your presence.

"Hey darling, you feeling good?" He turned his face and flashed you a wide grin before wrapping an arm around you to pull you close to him. He enjoyed being near you whenever he could, when he was away he would long for the days where all he did was sit and hold you close to him regardless of what the two of you were doing, so now whenever he had the chance he would hold you close.

"Feelin' great Spence.. wanna dance with you..." You said pulling out of his hold and grabbing his hand leading him onto the 'dance floor', which was just the open space in your living room. He laughed and quickly finished his drink, discarding the cup somewhere in the room and held you as you both danced to the music playing through the speakers.

After a couple of songs, you both made your way to get another drink and get a break from the crowd, you sat at the kitchen island and passed him a drink."You know, considering you're a genius, I would've thought you'd be able to coordinate a bit better." You said teasing him about his choice of moves which had essentially been him waving his arms in the air attempting to be in tune with the music.

He looked at you in fake shock and scoffed, "Yeah well it was still better than whatever you were trying to do." Referring to your horrendous attempt at trying to be sexy which in truth was never going to be anything but embarrassing. You stuck your tongue out in a childish manner causing him to laugh and quickly move to place his lips against yours giving you a soft kiss.

You jumped down from the counter after pulling back as a couple of your friends walked in and struck up a conversation about nothing interesting yet you made the effort to look engaged as Spencers's arm slipped over your shoulders and you placed your head against his shoulder.

"Hey guys, look here." You both turned to see your friend Harry, as always with a polaroid camera in his hand. You and Spencer gave each other a quick smile before grinning wide for the camera, both your faces full of love and happiness.

You sat there thinking about how quickly things can change, the people in the image you held so young and naive to the struggles the future would hold. Taking another sip of your wine you skimmed through some more pictures before stopping at one that held a bittersweet meaning. A picture that was taken a few days after what had been your worst fight, you both looked happy but all you could think about the events leading up to the image being taken.

It was your and Spencers 5th anniversary and he had promised he would make it to dinner. You hadn't seen each other in weeks because he was away on a case but he had promised he wouldn't miss this day, he had asked for permission from Hotch to leave for a couple of days so he would be there. "No excuses, No ifs and buts...I'll be there babe. I promise."

But there you were, alone at a table for two. The look on the waiters face held nothing but pity as he walked over for the fourth time to ask if someone would be joining you. Finally, you gave up and shook your head to let him know you would be leaving and would like the cheque. You had never felt so humiliated walking out of the restaurant head held high but tears building up in your eyes and so you cried. You felt so broken, almost as broken as all those promises Spencer had made you. The word promise and sorry had lost all meaning in the last 5 years, simply a courtesy rather than meaningful.

The minute you got home your phone began ringing, it was Spencer.

"Hey doll, I'm so sorry I couldn't make it, the team wanted to go out last night and I kind of missed my -." He began to explain causing you to scoff, 'no ifs or buts' my ass.

"How could you?" Your voice cracking as you tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill for the second time that night. "I waited for 2 fucking hours Spencer, I felt like a fucking idiot."

"What? What are you talking about?" His voice was full of confusion. "Didn't you get my text?"

"No, I fucking didn't. I didn't get a fucking text. But that's not the fucking point, You should've been here, you promised you would be here."

"Babe, I'm so -," He began but you knew what he was gonna say. The only conversations you seemed to have were stuck on a loop like a broken record.

"Save it. Don't say you're sorry when you don't mean it, stop saying sorry and show it instead."

"Look, I'll get on the first flight out. I'll see you in a few hours, I'll make it up to you I prom-." You hung up the phone before he could continue, his promise worth nothing to you anymore. Walking over to the couch, you fell asleep the minute your head rested against one of the many cushions populating the seat.

You woke up to keys jingling in the door, yet you made no effort to move from where you were. The sound of his footsteps got louder as he approached.

"Babe? I know you're up." He said, kneeling beside you making you sigh and sit up. "Babe, I'm so sorry. I fucked up."

You just stared at him, it might have been petty but you didn't want to give in to his apologies just yet, he had to understand just how much he had hurt you first.

"I couldn't care less anymore, Spencer. I just need to remember that I'll always come second to work and that's fine, it's important to you and I understand that." You got up and walked over to the kitchen to gather yourself.

"Babe you are the most important thing to me, I'm sorry-."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. "Here we go again, Spencer there's only so many times you can say you're sorry before it loses all meaning. I'm sick and tired of this, I don't know if I can do this anymore. You're never here, you make promises you can never keep and I'm pretty sure you've told me you're sorry more times than you've told me you love me."

"Please don't do this. I love you." His voice was shaking, breaking down at the thought of you leaving him. He moved over to you and turned you so you were facing him. "I know this means nothing to you but I am so sorry. I've been so shitty to you and I know it."

"Spencer, I deserve better than this and I'm sick of forgiving you and acting like I'm fine with how you treat me, you might not mean it but it fucking hurts. I love you so much and I know you love me but would it kill you to put me first for once in your fucking life."

This annoyed him, the lack of sleep and being overworked leaving him less patient and more irritable, "That's not fucking fair, you knew what you were signing up for when you started dating me, I'm doing my fucking best. I go to work for US, to support US. If I could devote all of my time to you if I could, but I can't and it fucking kills me. You can't understand how much I miss you when I'm not here."

Tears welled in your eyes seeing him breakdown, unable to keep up the unbothered facade you had on, "I just...Spence, I miss you too. It hurts not being able to be near you and so when you're not there when you promise you will be, it hurts it really fucking hurts not to mention it's terrifying, how am I supposed to know you're ok if you do shit like that."

He pulled you into his arms as you sobbed into his chest, all the emotions you'd kept bottled up during the argument letting go. "I know baby, I'm so sorry I hurt you. I promise, and I mean it this time, I won't let you down again. I love you." He mumbled into your hair, slowly kissing your forehead whilst consoling you and holding you like he never wanted to let go.

The two of you went to bed that night in silence, not a word was spoken until the next day wherein Spencer switched off his phone and dedicated the whole weekend to you and only you. He kept his word once he had to leave, always fulfiling his promises, never pushing you to the side and communicating with you always. The two of you felt strong again, you were happy.

You put your glass down and walked out of your room and began pacing around the living room, pictures of you and him still up on your walls, the walls that no longer belonged to the both of you. You thought back to when he asked you to move him, how nervous he was and how excited you were.

It was movie night at Spencers house. Each week he invited everyone over to watch a film, everyone taking it in turns to select a film. This week Emily had chosen Midsommar, a film you were yet to see so you were excited. You were sat beside Spencer on the loveseat, his arm around you and your face resting against his chest, a blanket covering you both for extra comfort. You looked up and saw Derek and Penelope lay spread across the floor whilst JJ and Emily sat on the sofa. Bowls of popcorn and sweets were scattered around the room and beer bottles were piling up. It was nights like this that you wanted to treasure forever, for the first time you felt like you had a family, people to call your own, people you could trust.

"Watcha thinking about?" Spencer asked, glancing at you and realising your mind wasn't directed at the movie anymore.

"Nothing, just really lucky to have you in my life," You reached your hand up to hold his face and gave him a soft kiss. "I love you."

He pulled you in closer if that was even possible, "I love you too."

"Ugh, get a room." Derek groaned making you both chuckle.

Spencer responded by throwing some popcorn at him, "Aw is someone jealous, don't worry you'll find someone soon enough."

Derek murmured a quiet, "Fuck off" before turning his attention back to the movie, making everyone laugh.

The movie ended shortly and everyone was discussing what to watch next, you were in the mood for a comedy but Derek wanted to watch Die Hard for the millionth time. After several minutes of slight arguing, you finally decided on rewatching Moana for the 12th time.

Everyone was pretty much settled, drinks refilled, popcorn replenished and everyone back in their positions. Emily was about to press play before JJ stopped her, "Wait before you start I'm kinda cold can I borrow a sweater?" She asked Spencer.

"Yeah sure, take one from our room." He said casually like it was normal but it made your breath hitch in your throat, did he just say our room? As in, yours and his. Unofficially he wasn't wrong, it was your room as much as his, you spent pretty much every night here making having your own apartment redundant, but he hadn't yet asked you to move in with him. You couldn't help the small blush on your face and the way your lips turned upwards at his words. It made you happy knowing he thought of it as something for both of you.

"What has you so happy?" Penelope asked in a teasing tone, she'd picked up on Spencer words and knew exactly why you were smiling.

You just stuck your tongue out at her and looked up at Spencer, "Our room huh?" You asked making him smile.

"Yeah I mean, you're here every day, maybe more than I am. You should just move in at this point." He let out a little laugh after he said leaving you confused as to whether he was being serious, so you just laughed along and waited for JJ to come back so you could start the movie.

A couple of hours later almost everyone was half asleep, everyone apart from you and Spencer. You began making your way to his room followed by him carrying the blanket he had taken from his bed. The two of you went about your night routine, Spencer had insisted on keeping at least half of your things at his place hence why you never had to leave. You quickly changed into one of his shirts which fit you just right and climbed into bed where he was already sitting, reading a book.

"Spence, were you being serious...earlier when you said I should move in?" You asked him, making him put down his book and look at you.

"Would you like that? You don't have to say yes but I would love it if you moved in. The mornings when I wake up and you're still next to me, are the best mornings. Honestly, knowing I'm going to wake up next to you makes falling asleep easier. Plus Tesla and Edison love you, maybe even more than they loves me." He asked, the mention of his fish making you laugh despite the fact your eyes were welling up, what had you done to deserve the sweetest man to walk the earth.

You shifted yourself so you were straddling him and held his face in your hands, "I would love to move in with you." You answered placing a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you so much," He said as you moved back to laying down next him. "You make me the happiest man alive and I'm so lucky to have you."

"God, Spence you gotta stop before I start crying, I love you too." You said, as he laughed and pulled you into a comfortable sleeping position.

"Goodnight love." He mumbled, already falling asleep.

"Goodnight Spence." You responded, closing your eyes and beginning to drift off but not before saying, "By the way, the fishies definitely love me more."

You hadn't realised you were crying until a tear fell onto the frame you were holding. The image just as blurred as the memories it held. You carefully placed the image face down onto the table rather than placing it back up. Making your way to the sofa, you got your phone out and glanced at the image that had left you in this state. A picture of him and her, his hands holding hers as tight as they once held yours, the grin on both of their faces wide. He was happy, only it wasn't because of you anymore. You closed your eyes again, remembering how it all ended.

He had been distant since he had come back from this last case, he had been away for almost two months trying to catch this unsub and you had thought he'd be more excited to come back to you and finally be home. But he hadn't spent more than 10 minutes with you, the only time the two of you were in the same room for longer than that was when you fell asleep. Recently that had also stopped, he spent more nights away from home and at clubs with Derek and Emily , only coming back once he knew you weren't there. It was killing you but every time you questioned it he shrugged you off, telling you he loved you.

You wanted to scream at him if he loved you why isn't he showing it, why does he refuse to acknowledge you. You knew he was lying to you, he didn't love you anymore, you could see it in his eyes, how he never looked at you as he used to, he never held you like he used to. It was killing you and you knew you should ask him but you also knew that would lead to conversation you didn't want to have, an ending you didn't want to happen. So you kept quiet, went about your day and didn't question his actions, you had decided you would rather have the worst of him than not have him at all.

But that didn't last long. A few weeks later something happened, something you could ignore. Spencer had barely been home, only coming back to grab new clothes and leaving again often returning at 4 am or not all. The nights you spent alone, his side of the bed going cold broke your heart bit by bit. But you weren't ready for it to completely shatter, the images Penelope sent you of him holding that girl, a little too close, a little too tight, a little too much, start to fill your screen causing a lump in your throat and tears threatening to spill. You walked to the kitchen, surprised to see him there, he was sat at the counter head in his hands and a coffee in front of him.

"Spencer, what fuck is going on?" You all but shouted.

"Shh, my heads killing me." He said, burying his head in his hands attempting to block you out.

"You fucking asshole." You screamed at him, the pain and hurt evident in your broken voice as you tried your best not to cry.

This made him look up, far quicker than he should've causing his head to fill with pain and throb, but he didn't care, the memories of last night were coming back he knew he had fucked up. "I-I'm sorry, I was drunk and she was just there, nothing happened.

"You're sorry? Are you fucking kidding me?" You said, moving away from him as he got up to come closer to you. "No, don't fucking touch me. I'm done."

"What? No look I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I love you." The words were said, but the tone held so much uncertainty you couldn't tell if he was trying to convince you or himself.

"No you don't Spencer, not anymore. I know you don't and I've been lying to myself, saying that I'm ok with it when I'm not. I love you so much but I can't keep hurting myself by pretending like we're fine, We're not fine, we haven't been for a long time. Yes that fucking hurts, I thought we were forever, I thought we were going to grow old together and have kids and show them that we were soulmates. I thought we were perfect but we aren't."

"I never wanted to hurt you, I love you so much but-" He started with a sigh.

"You're not in love with me anymore..." You finished for him

"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different, I wish I could control how I felt. You were everything to me, I really did picture a future for us but things changed, I don't know why and I don't know how. You don't deserve this, I'm so sorry."

"I know Spence, I know." You moved closer to him and he held you like it was the last time... because it was. "I'm sorry too."

You pulled away from him."I'll grab some stuff and go stay at my mom's for a few days. I just need to find a new place to move my stuff to." You said, trying to brush some tears away but failing as they kept falling.

"No, it's fine. I'll go, this is just as much your home as it is mine. I'll stay with Derek for a bit, you take your time sorting stuff out ok?" He said, using his thumbs to attempt to wipe away your tears. You sighed but nodded knowing he wouldn't take no for an answer.

You sat down as he went to the room to gather some things, your mind reeling from the last half hour. How could so much change in such a short period of time, years spent together thrown away so quick.

"I'm done, I'll get going ok?" He said placing his duffel bag down beside by the door.

"So this is it huh?" You said, with a sigh. You felt him walk towards you and take a seat next to you.

"The last 10 years have been the most incredible time of my life, you put up with so much of my shit and loved me unconditionally and I can't thank you enough for giving the eager 25-year-old who wanted nothing more than to impress you a chance. I'm never going to stop loving you, you know that. I'm never gonna forget about you, my first love, the first woman to capture my heart. I'm so sorry things didn't work out like how we'd imagined them. If I could change how I feel I would, I wanted nothing more than for this to be a silly phase, for me to wake up one day and feel how I felt again. But it didn't happen and it fucking sucks."

"I get it, Spence, you have to do what makes you happy and I'm not gonna stop you. I'm just sorry it wasn't me that could give you want and need, but you're gonna make some girl out there very happy if you're even half the man you were when you were with me." You gave him a soft smile as he stroked your hair and kissed your forehead.

He stood up and walked to the door. "Call me when you're ready ok? I love you." He turned and gave you a soft smile before picking up his bag and walking out the door.

You just broke down, you don't know how long you sat there sobbing your heart out but it felt like forever. Everything hurt so bad you didn't think you'd ever feel any emotion other than heartbreak for as long as you lived.

You took a deep breath as your hand hovered over the delete button on your phone, it was time to move on just as he had. As you released the breath you were holding, your finger pressed against the button, deleting all the pictures you had with him and you felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and the realisation sunk in.

You loved him so much, but he wasn't yours to love anymore.

He was just a memory.

-

tagged: @gcblers @187-reid @mgg-theprettiestboy @mggbler @snitchthewitch

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer fluff #my works!

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chaos-event-horizon · 2 years

Note

pls dont be so defensive i was curious because a lot of people fetishize my abuse. i wasnt inciting discourse. and if u look up electricpuke u get the info from one of the other artists saying how they abused them

Okay, I was wondering when this would take a turn and here we are. You came into my inbox asking me about invasive shit. You suddenly started throwing around a stranger's abuse in a way that was obviously supposed to make me feel bad for liking a third of a game. You're talking to me in a way that implies that you seem to think you have something to do with me. I'm not defensive, I'm annoyed. There's a pretty substantial difference. How were you thinking I'd react to some anonymous rando asking me about my feelings on rape, and acting like I somehow have something to do with a stranger's abuse? Was I supposed to just go "oh, sorry, I forgot that every stranger on the internet is in charge of my bodily autonomy! I will now proceed to remove this character from my mind with brain bleach!" How often do you have people asking you about this stuff? Because lemme tell you, it's weird and rude to walk up to strangers and start asking them random interview questions about a free dating sim. Are you also going up to people who like Strade and asking them about cannibalism??? Have you asked a Sano stan about whether or not they kidnap people and turn them into dolls today??? Honestly going after the tentacle demon lover should be lower on the list, considering realism.

Second of all. It isn't just your trauma to be explored. It's also mine. No one is fetishizing anything about you, because you aren't in any way involved in my relationship. You are not a participating .ember of my life. This isn't about you, and was never about you at any point. You aren't me, or Rire, or any other character in that game. You are a completely separate entity. A total stranger who for some reason latched onto my blog, despite me not talking about Rire in MONTHS. I don't need your permission to explore my trauma, any more than you need my permission to dislike this game.

Furthermore? Why do you assume I in any way keep up with ANY of the creators of this dating sim, besides maybe darqx??? I genuinely would have no particular reason to. I downloaded BTD in 2017, and honestly haven't looked at the download site since then. Frankly Rire and his route are the only part of the game and lore I care about. I don't even look at his creator's stuff that often. I would have 0 reason to ever need to look up the other artists, and obviously have not done so, because quite frankly I didn't even remember their usernames. Why in the world are you acting like I'm complicit in someone else's abuse when my ship and love for Rire have nothing to do with anything?

AND ONE MORE THING. Not here to incite discourse? Then why ARE you even here? You came to my inbox, asked me to explain myself to The Board Of Sunglasses, and then got mad that I'm being less than saintly? Fuck were you expecting, the sugar queen? Awful bold of you to walk into my house, start demanding answers you are in no way entitled to, and then act like I'm victimizing you and other people somehow. As if my 2017 download of a free itchio game and occasional thirst for an unrelated character has any bearing at all on someone's current problems? Why in the world are you acting like you're shocked that I don't like being spoken to this way? Why are you here, continuing to message me, and trying to insert yourself into my romantic relationship? This polycule isn't taking applications dude.

A word of advice from someone who just recently reached the 20th anniversary of the first time they were sexually assaulted: you have nothing to do with another person's trauma. Approaching other survivors while acting like this will only piss them off. If you don't like a person or piece of content, use the block button. It's free.

#mature #discourse

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guesst · 3 years

Text

some of the best fantasy au fics for bnha that i've read

i decided to make a fic rec list of one of my favourite aus/fusions. mostly midoriya-centric, there are some crossovers (with hp), and a lot of different ways in which the authors have taken them - so it could be Quirks, ghosts, outright fantasy aus, spirits, witches etc etc. there isn't a specific order and there aren't a tonne (these are the ones i could find buried in my bookmarks lol), but the ones on the list are all really well written i love them.

i've tried adding relevant information, the summary (shortened if it's pretty long) and just. adding some random tags that may be important. not all of them though. obviously this is not a complete list and there will most definitely be more fics out there, if there are some really good fics that you know that aren't on this list, feel free to tell me, i'd love to read them!!!

i hope someone enjoys these!

Faith Becomes You by SugaSuga

oneshot | gen dfo, quirkless midoriya summary 'There's a tiny shrine in Musutafu that's overgrown with kudzu vines between Izuku's apartment and his middle-school. There may very well still be a god inside it. There may be nothing but the myth of a man from when Quirks were first emerging. Izuku hides in its walls for a while and ends up tending to the forgotten shrine. All good deeds have their impact, don't they?'

Of Mythos and Men by Oceanbreeze7

oneshot | gen spirit animal au, kinda summary (shortened) 'When he was young, Midoriya always wondered what his mythos would be. The matching half to his quirk, the ancestry of its power. Mythos were strange things, not linked genetically like quirks seemed to be. [...] Midoriya hadn't met his mythos. Even in UA. (In his dreams, something called to him, 'Chase me!')'

what a lion cannot manage by LadyLiterature

multichapter | ongoing | f/m, m/m kitsune au, female izuku, future bakudeku summary (shortened) 'She wants to be a hero. Wants to save everyone she meets and even the people she hasn’t. [...] A smart fox avoids fights. A smart fox does not seek them out. A smart fox does not fight for everyone. A smart fox, when they absolutely must, only fights for themselves and what is theirs and nothing else. Izumi, for all that she tries to be, is not a good fox.'

My Magic Academia by Kiterou

series | oneshots and multichapter | ongoing | gen HP crossover, wizard midoriya, platonic bkdk, some ocs summary (shortened) ' [...] In which Midoriya Inko is a witch and Izuku a wizard and even after 150 years of quirks taking over the world, Izuku still couldn't tell Kacchan that he isn't worthless and that he still could become a hero all on his own.'

A Lonely Windchime Makes No Sound by Musecookie

multichapter | ongoing | multi reader/shinso, total fantasy au, very wholesome summary (shortened) ' [...] You enjoy visiting your slightly creepy local library. When you accidentally befriend the elusive owner's familiar, he begins to appear more and more when you visit. You don't really mind, and he doesn't seem to hate you, even when the two of you become tied up in each other's fate as you pursue the secret to reviving a magical species of flower. Soft Strangers to Friends to Lovers type beat with lots of fluff and naps! Sleepy cuddles included.'

The grapes of friendship by Gentrychild

oneshot | gen crack, dfo, vampire izuku summary 'Izuku, a dhampir hiding his real identity as he goes to UA, the best wizard school in the country, spends the day with his friends. None of them are aware of it.'

Yesterday Upon the Stair by PitViperofDoom

multichapter | complete | gen less supernatural, izu's quirk lets him see ghosts, he still has ofa summary (shortened) 'Midoriya Izuku has always been written off as weird. As if it's not bad enough to be the quirkless weakling, he has to be the weird quirkless weakling on top of it. But truthfully, the "weird" part is the only part that's accurate. He's determined not to be a weakling, and in spite of what it says on paper, he's not actually quirkless [...] Not that anyone would believe it if he told them.'

sum of all (and by them driven) by Elemental

series | multichapter | ongoing | gen dadzawa, spirits give quirks, izu sees these spirits series summary 'Quirks aren't what you think they are.' first part summary (shortened) 'Midoriya Izuku is medically quirkless, not technically homeless, perpetually exhausted and doing his damned best despite it all. He also sees spirits, which might be cool if not for the fact that a) no one else does, b) they really don't like him very much, and c) he's pretty sure the heroes now think he's a villain working for the League [...]'

The Struggles of a Modern-Day Vampire by miraculousemily47

oneshot | gen crack, 1-a shenanigans, vampire midoriya summary 'After Midoriya Izuku is turned into a vampire towards the end of his first year at U.A., he decides he wants to tell his classmates about his condition. The only problem is that he can't physically say the words, and his classmates are fucking idiots.'

Lights in the Dark by FrostKitten

series | oneshots | ongoing | gen supernatural au, izuku can see demons etc, quirkless/magic au summary (of first part) 'Midoriya Izuku, like most young kids, knows there are monsters. They live in closets, under beds, and occasionally in the park. As he grows older, his friends stop seeing them...but he still does.'

Hand in Unlovable Hand by jumbletea

series | oneshots | ongoing | gen vampire midoriya (and aizawa), dadzawa, toga n dabi n mido being siblings summary 'A collection of stories surrounding a not-quite-human Izuku and everyone he meets along the way.'

Simply Superstitious by CryCaladrius

multichapter | ongoing | gen lots of folklore and yokai and stuff, 'quirkless' magic user izuku, decent dad hisashi too summary (shortened) 'Izuku Midoriya’s father is a Hou-ou — a Japanese phoenix. For some reason, this means yokai have a standing invitation to pester Izuku with their existence. Birds assemble choirs for his birthday. If there’s no cedar leaf under the welcome mat, the amazake babaa that lives two apartments over will be knocking on their door by evening. His yokai-purifying excursions get mistaken for vigilantism far too often. [...]'

Cuckoo Bird (anonymous author)

multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | gen it may be discontinued but theres lots of fae folklore, deku is a changeling, deals etc, plus some platonic shindeku building up?? summary 'There's something off about Midoriya Izuku. (change·ling /ˈCHānjliNG/ noun a child believed to have been secretly substituted by fairies for the parents' real child in infancy.)'

tread softly as you go by IceEckos12

oneshot | gen if you read any fae au please let it be this! has faeries but mido is not one summary 'Humans used to be good at the old ways. They used to know how to bait the trap, to spin a web of words and lies that would ensnare even the most wily. Humans used to be able to twist deceptions around knots of iron and turn them into weapons of power. They forgot a long, long time ago. A boy unwittingly makes a deal with one of the fae, severing his ties to humanity. However, he finds that the fae world is far more strange and complex than he ever could have imagined.'

Hell is just a shoujo manga by supercrunch

multichapter | complete | f/m fantasy au, bakudeku, fem!izuku, isekai, dekusquad stuff, also some iidachako summary (shortened) 'Izuku wakes up crushed under a statue, trapped in the body of a princess who doesn't exist. Turns out she's a demon, which is weird. What's even weirder is the déjà vu that surrounds Kamino palace, reminding her of the events of this one manga she used to love. [...] But that's probably just a coincidence. [...] The problem here, obviously, is that Izuku's the demon princess. Ergo, she's a villain. And that means she's going to die at the end of this manga. Again.'

hold your breath as you cross by cassiopeia721

oneshot | gen dadzawa, another 'quirks are from spirits au' (expect more of those actually), mido is sad :( summary 'As the bridge between the world of guardian spirits and the quirk users who are blessed by them, Izuku's duty is to clean up the mess his predecessor left. It's taken what feels like an eternity worth of work, but Izuku's finally finished, and he's ready to rest at last. Unfortunately, the pro heroes who just watched him take down the Scourge of Kamino have no intention of letting him just wander off, and he finds himself stuck in an interrogation room with a bunch of humans who he's sure will never believe a word he says.'

To See with Eyes Unclouded by CrazySatan

series | oneshots | ongoing | gen witch au, witch midoriya, quirkless mido, bkg is not a good friend series summary 'Midoriya Izuku is a witch. A powerful witch. And even though he doesn't have a quirk, and magic doesn't Work Like That, Izuku ends up a hero. Somehow.'

Demons and Darkness by wolfsrainrules

series | oneshots | ongoing | gen dadzawa, shinso and mido and bkg are becoming friends, they can see monsters/spirits/bad things summary of first part 'Izuku has believed in the things that go bump in the night since he was small. That means he can see them, and almost everyone he knows....can't. So he decides he's going to be the shield humanity needs, no matter what. Eventually, he finds others that See too.'

know what i've made by the marks on my hands by simkjrs

multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | gen dadzawa, quirk spirit au (this inspired most of the others on this list), also eri summary (shortened) 'Midoriya Izuku just wants to lead a quiet, peaceful life. This is foiled by the fact that a) he can see spirits, b) his good nature demands that he help anyone he sees in trouble, and c) he, by all rights, should not exist. [...]'

Izuku haunts class 1-A by Artistic-Gamer

series or multichapter whichever floats your boat | incomplete (hiatus) | other there are some triggering themes! such as suicide, blood, body disfigurement! please take care of yourself and avoid reading if this will hurt you! in other news: so much dadzawa, so much friendship, hurt mido summary (of first part) 'Class 1-A is rumored to be haunted, only the residents are aware it’s more than just a rumor..'

U.A's Resident Ghost by BeyondTheClouds777

multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | gen ghost midoriya, dadzawa, friendships!!!! summary 'There is a ghost at U.A. Not haunting U.A. Not even hanging out at U.A. There is a ghost. Enrolled. As a student of U.A. And it's just Shouta's luck that he has everything to do with it.'

and now, the weather by xylophones

oneshot | gen CRACK, paranormal/ghost hunters au, dekusquad stuff summary 'Izuku runs a fictional horror radio show. Because ghosts aren’t real. Right? (“Holy shit, ghosts are real,” Izuku whispers. Then, with the smugness of a sixteen-year-old who just won a decade long bet, “I knew it! Kacchan owes me five hundred yen!” “Midoriya,” Todoroki sighs, “this ghost is trying to kill us.”)'

U.A Unsolved by handcrusher(ameliafromafairytale)

oneshot | gen (it's a fic of a fic, so if you've read yesterday upon the stair then you'll understand better) izuku can see ghosts thats his quirk summary ' "Hey there, ghosts," Midoriya says, "it's me, ya boy." The dorms are haunted. Shenanigans ensue.'

The Haunting of Class 1-A by BritishRobutt

multichapter | ongoing/maybe discontinued | n/a ghost midoriya, vigilante au, crack, the ghost bit is izu's quirk summary 'Everyone always told Izuku he couldn't be a hero, so when he dies and discovers his quirk, he becomes a vigilante out of spite. Whoops. After becoming Spectre, Japan's most wanted vigilante, Izuku realizes he can just fulfill his dreams of going to the top heroic school- after all, who can physically stop him from attending UA when he's a literal ghost?'

Caged by SternStunde

oneshot | gen tododeku, fantasy au (todo is a dragon, mido is a princess), genderbent deku (fem deku) summary 'Then she held up one of the books and smiled. "Want to learn an ancient language with me?" She was kind of a nerd, and she really hoped the dragon was too.'

Magic Runs Deep by draconicschinx

multichapter | ongoing/probably discontinued | gen mido has a quirk and he can see mythical creatures. summary '"Midoriya Izuku has always been good at making friends. Not human ones, really, but they are good friends nonetheless. " Izuku can see and talk to and interact with mythical creatures. It's not exactly the quirk he was hoping for, but he's going to use it to help humans and his non-human friends all the same.'

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httphopewrld · 4 years

Text

hot summer (sneak peek pt.2)!!!

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He was a boy across the street—no—an attractive boy across the street who happened to be a tattoo artist. You didn’t want to do anything about it, but your friends encouraged you to either stop sulking or make a move. And you chose the latter.

Pairing: tattoo artist/neighbourjungkook! x female reader

Genre: fluff and smuuuuuut

Rating: 18+ because there’s some smuuuuuutttt (it’s the most detailed I’ve ever written, soooo proceed with caution) and swearing

Warnings: smut, soft sex, dom!/sub!jungkook, dom!/sub!femreader, penetrative sex without protection (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), bullet vibrator, oral fem receiving, creampie, fingering, making out, and swearing. There are mentions of domestic violence, but it is not detailed. It is in the perspective of the reader, who is witnessing this from a distance.

Word Count: 9,000-10,000 (each because there will be 2 parts)

A/N: Uni has been a lot, so I will be post the full part 1 on Monday. Thank you so much for waiting, and for all the support and love I’ve gotten from the previous sneak peek! Here’s a little more to keep you on your toes ;)

Also, if you’d like to be on this fic’s (and future ones) taglist, comment your username, and I’ll update this fic and have your username in future fics too!

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You looked across the traffic, into the apartment building across from yours. A boy sat back into his chair, holding a book in his hands. He began to read, of course, in a simple manner. His eyes scanned the pages, imagining the words written in his mind.

He was man, most likely, in his early twenties, but referring to him as a “man” felt odd.

You were fascinated by him. He was good looking, even from kilometres away. If you leaned against your balcony’s rails, you could see his dark wavy brown hair, his slightly sun-kissed skin, and his all-black clothing ensemble. He wore no shirt, probably from the heat or being in the comfort of his own home.

You stepped away from the railing and back into your apartment, drawing back the curtain and turning your back to the balcony.

How long have you been gawking at this stranger? Had he glanced up from his book and saw you standing there?

You drew all your curtains closed, paranoid, and embarrassed.

People crowded the city’s streets.

The sun was out, which meant everyone became runners, joggers, and walkers. People, families, and friends came out from their hideaways and into the sunshine. You, on the other hand, sat safely on your balcony.

Crowds made you nervous. You liked meeting people, but the thought of pushing through a dense mass of strangers made you shudder.

So, you watched people push and brush pass each other from ten floors up, sipping at your iced tea.

You gazed at the apartment from the other night.

It was empty.

You could see simplistic black and white art and photographs decorating the walls and modern furniture. His bedroom is to the left, with a gaping window that allowed anyone to look in. The same applied to the rest of the apartment: big windows and no curtains.

You sipped your iced tea.

You could imagine this man’s wardrobe. Minimalistic shades, and maybe some pops of colour. Chunky black sneakers and dark accessories. He must’ve been an artist of some sort.

Your phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” Your friend, and roommate, Ashly, chimed on the other end. “Are you busy at the moment?”

“Not at all,” you replied, setting down your drink, “what’s up?”

“I was thinking of having a get-together. There’d be wine, snacks, and music. It’d be small, maybe five people, including ourselves?”

“You want me at your party?”

“Well, it isn’t a party—just a few girls and gossip.”

You pondered for a moment. “Where is it?”

“The get-together?”

“Yes,”

“It’d be at our place in two weeks.” Ashly sighed. “Is that enough time, mom?”

You chuckled. “Yes, my child.”

“Awesome! We can plan when I come back from work.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

“See ya!”

“Bye.” You hung up and looked back at the apartment.

The boy had come back. He wore a back cap, which he quickly took off and ruffled his hair, and, like a few days ago, adorned a full black ensemble. Despite the warm weather, he had worn a black leather jacket, jeans, and sneakers.

You watched him shuck off his jacket and toss it on the couch, and head to his bedroom.

He, with a lack of better words, flopped onto his bed and appeared to take a nap.

You chuckled to yourself—definitely a boy.

.

.

It had been a week since you looked back at the apartment.

You had just come back from work, and Ashly usually arrives back home an hour later.

The apartment you shared with Ashly was a carbon-copy of an IKEA display. You joked about it before, saying, “if someone were to flip through a 2019 IKEA catalogue, randomly choose a page, you’d probably think our place looked the same—or you’d find one of our pieces of furniture.”

It wasn’t a bad thing. IKEA was a popular place to shop at, and it was excellent quality.

Your furniture was various shades of white, navy blue, grey, silver, and light brown. The colour palette continued to your cutlery, kitchen items, and your bedrooms.

The place was cozy and didn’t leave room (pun intended) for a frivolous lifestyle.

The boy’s apartment was similar yet different. There was a sense of minimalism, like yours, but the furniture was dark—almost raven black.

As remarked before, there were black and white photographs and inky modern furniture. There were no colours in his home, just assorted shades.

His front door opened, and two bodies tumbled inside—his and a female.

Their bodies entangled with one and other and gripping each other’s clothes. The female’s clothes were the first to come off, exposing her bra and lack of underwear. The boy seemed pleased because he smirked before attaching his lips to her vagina.

You were shocked, scared, and worried all at once. You wanted to look away but found a curiosity within.

This man—boy—didn’t appear to have any desire to shut the world out.

You watched as this boy perform oral sex to this female—in the right way because the girl appeared to be moaning a lot—and you couldn’t look away.

It was like watching live porn, in a weird and public sense. It was, slightly, pleasurable too.

They took off their clothes shortly after the girl seemed to orgasm and engaged in penetrative sex. He took her from behind, against his couch. You, and whoever else stumbled upon this erotic scene, had a perfect view of their naked sides.

“Oh, my lord,” you gasped.

You felt the familiar tingle in your lower region.

Realizing this, you cursed under your breath and closed your curtains.

“What the fuck,” you exhaled, leaning forward on the dining table.

“I just watched my neighbour have sex,” you muttered, “and enjoyed it.”

You paced the room as if giving a lecture to a child.

“You were turned on by your neighbour having sex!” You shouted at yourself. “What the hell?! Were you fantasying? Him?! What the fuck, Y/N? Might as well be Joe Goldberg, and whip out your—”

“Y/N?”

You stopped in your tracks and turned to your front door. Ashly stood in shock.

“Are you alright?” Her Australian accent was thick with concern.

You smiled, “Never better.”

She let out a pulse of nervous laughter before tossing her keys in the small dish on the kitchen counter.

“What were you saying about Joe Goldberg? The guy from You? And why are the curtains closed?” Ashly leaned her hand against the counter, and her other on her hip. She resembled a mother about to lecture their kid about a text from a stranger.

You chuckled. “Nothing of importance—anyways, how was your day, Ash?”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, Y/N. You’re not escaping this one.” She walked up to you and firmly placed both her hands on her hips. “What is all this that about?”

“Look who’s the mother now,” you muttered, making Ashly raise her eyebrow.

You inhaled a lungful of air. “The boy in the apartment across from us is having sex right now, and they’re bare-ass naked in front of their big-ass windows. I had to close the curtains because I felt like I was intruding on their sexual activity, and it was just weird that they didn’t close their own—but I feel like that boy doesn’t own any curtains—so I just closed our curtains.” You said in one breath.

Ashly’s eyes widened with shock, “What?” She walked past you and threw open the curtains.

“Ash, don’t just rip them wide open!” You rushed over and closed the curtains.

She glared at you before cracking the drapes a bit to take a look. “Oh, my God.” She gasped. “They are having sex.”

“Still?” You crouched down and peered through the break.

“Oh yeah,” she nodded, “and harder than ever.”

You both watched, only for a few seconds before closing the curtains again, the boy drill into the girl. The boy faced the windows, leaving everyone to see his face and the top of the girl’s head as she tilted it back with pleasure.

“Well, he seems very good at what he’s doing,” Ashly commented, walking away as you closed the drapes.

“Ash!” You said in a loud whisper as if the boy across the street could hear.

“I’m just saying, the girl seems like she’s having the best time of her life, being pounded by that dude!” She defended.

“Jesus Christ, Ash, shut up!”

“I’m not wrong,” she shrugged.

You looked at her sheepishly, and you both burst with laugher.

Both of you spent dinner recapping your days: Ashly was currently dealing with an HR (Human Resources) problem in her company—she couldn’t go into details because of confidentiality, but it had to do with a problematic employee who was spouting racist nonsense online, which could affect the company’s image; and was immorally wrong because racism and any discrimination based on sexuality, race, religion, and so on, cannot be tolerated.

Your day and work-life were conversely dull.

You managed finances and taxes for your corporation, and the only exciting event to date was the incorrect money evaluation from a co-worker, which lead the company to believe there was wiggle-room for spending; when in reality, they were spending too much.

You pushed the pasta around in your plate while looking at the covered windows. You watched the curtains sway in the wind. Ashly had opened the windows a few minutes ago to let the hot air out of the apartment.

It was the hottest summer since you moved to the city five years ago, including the weather and the recently noticed neighbour across the street.

You continued to think about him and the way he had sex with that girl. It was romantic, yet aggressive and needy.

Fuck. You cursed.

“Hello?” Ashly waved a hand in front of your face. “I know that HR can be boring to listen to, but please try to look interested.”

You chuckled, “Sorry, Ash. I just zoned out a bit.”

“Oh, I know,” she replied, “but thank you for the apology.”

She sighed. “Well, I’m ready to watch some Netflix.” She looked at her watch, “And as it is almost eight o’clock, I think I’ll only be able to last for a ripe two hours until my old body starts to shut down.”

You laughed, taking both of your empty plates and cutlery to the kitchen. Ashly joined you, bringing the drained wine glasses.

“Care to join me?” She asked while you loaded the dishes.

“It’d be the highest honour, m’lady.”

⋅. ✯ .⋅

Reminder:

if you would like to be on my taglist for “Hot Summer” and my future fics, please comment something like:

(ex.)

Hello! I would like to be in your taglist. My username is _____. Thank you!

Thank you!

- Mae (httphopewrld)

#jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fuff #ficswithluv

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puredivinity · 4 years

Text

be yours. (erwin smith x reader)

word count: 1845

I was listening to this and i got the vibes. the lyrics aren’t gender neutral and neither is the title, but i didn’t put any gendered pronouns in there so i hope you guys don’t have a problem inserting yourselves!

i made this cute little thing! i hope you guys enjoy it!!!

this isn’t the original birthday fic i drafted but i really liked this so you got this instead

how we all love some good yearning

masterlist - erwin

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Erwin caught your eye a few times. You two went to the same college, hung around the same groups of people, and even had a few classes together. He was hard to miss, really. With his charming blue eyes, perfectly sculpted face, even his beautiful smile that he gave to you whenever you passed him. You noticed the way his eyes would narrow when he’s concentrated on something, how he idly fiddled with his pencils after finishing a test. You know, things you’d usually notice about someone.

Not to mention him catching you staring at him a few times during class, from across the room. Hey, you couldn’t help it. He’s just extraordinarily handsome, that’s all, is what you told yourself. Maybe you would’ve believed that at first, but not now. It’d been far too long, having been around seven months. You’d known of him for seven months, but had yet to have a conversation with him. Sure, you’d said hi a couple times when you ran to get your morning coffee, or when you waved to him while he walked to meet his friends.

You weren’t exactly friends, per se, but more so acquaintances. Besides his name, you also knew other things about him, like his birthday - which happened to be today - and things like his favorite color, coffee blend, artist, etc. However, you weren’t sure he’d really acknowledged you even existed. He was very good friends with two other people in your class, Levi and Hange. You hadn’t formally met Levi, due to the fact that he didn’t seem to enjoy the company of other people - not that you complained - and you’ve talked to Hange a handful of times. They’re louder than Erwin and Levi, always earning a scoff and a harsh ‘Shut up, Four Eyes,’ from the smaller man.

He hung with them frequently, and from what you gathered a few months ago, they’d been friends for a couple of years. Erwin trusted them greatly, and they reciprocated. You wished you had that type of relationship with him, but settled to yearn from afar. Most would probably describe you as weird, but you wouldn’t. At least not out loud, anyway.

The bell rang, signaling the class was over, and you snapped out of your thoughts. You’d spent the class time fondly gazing in Erwin’s direction, missing the strange look Levi gave you. He’d noticed that you’d done that a lot and brought it up to Erwin a while ago, but the blonde dismissed it. Erwin figured you were staring at the wall or something, before he shot a glance in your direction, briefly meeting your eyes. From that day forward, he began noticing you too. Not that you picked up on, of course.

Packing up your things, you left the classroom and began heading to your dorm. However, when you were halfway there, you noticed that you’d left your pencil on the desk. You cursed to yourself, turning around to go retrieve it when you came face to face with someone’s chest, craning your head upwards to see who it was. To your surprise, it was Erwin, pencil in hand. He gave you his famous smile that melted your heart, clearing his throat to speak.

“Sorry to seem like a creep,” He nervously chuckled, fiddling with the item in his hands. “But I noticed that you left it at your table and wanted to return it. I hope this doesn’t seem weird,” He mumbled, handing it to you. You stared in astonishment for a moment, before shaking your head. You took the item from him, smiling in response.

“Thank you,” you said as you placed the item in your pocket, to put in your pencil case for later. “But um,” you tilted your head, pointing to yourself. “You know who I am?” That earned you a laugh and an even wider smile from the man in front of you, causing your heart to thump louder in your chest.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “We have a class together, silly. You sit closer to the window, two rows behind me.” You nodded, a blush forming on your cheeks. You honestly didn’t know what to say, you didn’t think he even knew your name, let alone where you sat.

“Right,” you confirmed, fiddling with your fingers. “What brings you to my dorm?”

“I wanted to bring your pencil back, remember,” You internally facepalmed. He just said that, you thought, feeling embarrassed. “I’m also here for another thing,” he continued, staring into your eyes.

“I was wondering if you wanted to join my friends and I for a birthday dinner tonight.” He looked at his watch. “It’s at eight. I’ll pick you up at seven.” You already knew who the friends were, of course.

Your eyes widened. He wants me, a stranger, to join him for dinner? Someone that hasn’t had a full conversation with him ever, to join him and his closest friends? You internally panicked, Erwin clearing his throat to snap you out of it. You sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck, nodding in response.

“Sure.” You pulled your phone out of your pocket, opening the contacts app and pressing the button to add a new one. Inputting his name in the field, you turned the device in his direction.

He took the device from you, fingers brushing yours. Oh fuck.

Erwin gave your phone back to you, waving you goodbye as he walked in the opposite direction. Looking down, you noticed he not only input his number, but put a ‘;)’ next to his name.

Hurrying back to your room, you fumbled with the key to unlock your door before pushing it open, throwing your bag down and rummaged through your closet. It was almost hilarious how fast you moved, tossing items you disapproved of onto your bed. It seemed like what you had in your wardrobe didn’t fit the occasion. Or, maybe you were just overreacting. Probably both, to be honest.

Thirty minutes later, you finally decided on an outfit. You’d gone for something simple, not too over the top. Sliding on your flats, you checked yourself out in the mirror, smoothing any creases or wrinkles out with your fingers. You were nervous, to say the least. Maybe nervous was an understatement. Checking yourself once more, you checked the time on your phone. It was about 6 pm, meaning you had an hour left before Erwin came to pick you up. You made a quick run to get him a birthday card, signing it and adding his favorite candy in the bag next to it.

You spent the next hour lost in your thoughts, missing Erwin’s text thirty minutes later and jolting at the sound of someone knocking on your door. Glancing at the clock on your nightstand, it was indeed 7 P.M. You stood up, double checking that you had everything you needed before heading outside to join Erwin. He greeted you with a grin, glancing at your outfit. He held his hand out for you to take, leading you to the passenger side of his car and holding the door open for you.

He informed you that Levi and Hange were already at the restaurant, waiting for the two of you to join them, meaning you’d be alone during the car ride. The ride itself was initially nerve-wracking, but things calmed down once he’d broken the ice by telling you a few jokes of his. He made you laugh and asked a few questions about you on the ride there, learning your favorite color and the type of music you liked to listen to. You found that Erwin was really easy to talk to, in addition to being funny.

Arriving at the restaurant, he opened your door for you once more, leading you inside of the restaurant. It was fancy, having beautiful portraits on the wall and playing classical music over the speakers. Your eyes scanned the crowd, spotting Hange waving the two of you over, with an unenthusiastic looking Levi next to her. He looked like he didn’t want to be there, but Erwin assured you that he always looked like that.

Taking your places across the brunette and raven-haired man, a couple of menus were placed in front of you. You flipped open the menu, eyes scanning the options. There were plenty, various dishes containing some type of seafood and the other side of the menu containing kid’s meals. You hadn’t noticed that there were a curious pair of eyes on you, admiring you.

You’d ordered and enjoyed your food, exchanging a bit of small talk with the people around you. Hange and Erwin cracked a couple of jokes, their loud laugh resonating throughout the restaurant. Levi, as usual, was mostly quiet but did engage sometimes, throwing a poorly-timed shit joke just as you were taking a bite of your food.

Despite being nervous at the beginning, you came to truly enjoy the event. It felt like you fit right in with them and they welcomed you with open arms. Well, if telling you shit jokes could be counted as open arms. They definitely got a few giggles out of you, almost making you cry from laughter at one point. You had a wonderful time and was thankful that Erwin invited you.

After paying the bill, the four of you left separately. Hange and Levi drove to their dorms and Erwin drove you back to yours. The car ride was pleasant, the radio playing songs the two of you liked. The most notable one being ‘I Wanna Be Yours,’ by the Arctic Monkeys. You sang along and Erwin hummed beside you. His larger hand brushed over yours, fingers stroking the back of it.

After reaching your dorm building, you sat in the car for a moment. Erwin’s hand squeezed yours, making you look at him. The look in his eyes was soft, one you’d never expected to see from him. He gazed fondly at you, bringing your hand up to plant a kiss on it.

“Thank you for tonight,” he whispered to you. “I hope you had a good time.”

“I did!” you blurted out, startling both yourself and Erwin a little. He laughed it off, nodding.

“I’m glad.” Silence remained for a brief moment before you reached in your bag, handing the card and candy to him.

“Happy birthday,” you mumbled, leaning against the back of your seat. “I wanted to get you a present, but I didn’t have much time, so I rushed out and got you your favorite. I hope you like it.”

He was touched. His hand cupped your cheek, him leaning in to give you a gentle kiss on the lips. Your heartbeat thumped in your ears as your eyes fluttered shut. Internally, you were screaming; yelling to the high heavens, so loud you would’ve lost your voice.

But on the outside, your hands were slightly shaking as you lost yourself in the kiss.

Erwin pulled away, stopping to mutter a quick “Thank you again,” before pressing his lips to yours once more.

#erwin smith #erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #reader insert #modern au #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #i loved the song i was listening to while writing this

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rainofaugustsith · 3 years

Text

SWTOR and Companion Death

So. Some thoughts about companion deaths in SWTOR in general.

I'm not a fan.

SPOILERS FOR KOTFE ONWARD.

I do know the name of the franchise is Star WARS, and people die in wars. It would probably be extremely unrealistic if we had a scenario where our characters spent literally 17 years of their lives (and counting...well, 12 if we don't count carbonite) fighting and nobody around them died.

However, in SWTOR I think that most of the deaths could been avoided. I don't think they benefit the story. I think that all they really do, in the end, is deprive the audience of a lot of interesting characters.

I do think there are occasions when a player's character may wish to reject or kill a companion, but I also feel that there are ways to write so that it is an exception, and not commonplace.

And we have not even gotten to the NPC deaths. It has been a bloodbath for years with SWTOR and the writers show no signs of stopping it. Nathema - the body count from Nathema has taken almost twenty NPCs out of the main story. Onslaught? Yeah. Many more. It's become more unusual for an NPC to actually survive for the duration than to have a kill option.

I feel there are better ways to write than to take a Game of Thrones approach and kill everyone. When you eliminate everyone's beloved characters, and you leave the player with nothing more than a rotating cast of strangers, it's quite difficult to get into the story after a while.

Going through the companion deaths from KOTFE to Iokath:

Tanno Vik: The voiceover artist who played Tanno Vik died several years ago, and apparently the devs decided not to make the character recruitable in KOTFE because of that. I can understand this one. It seems that Tanno may die regardless of your choices, too. If you spare him during your meeting, he may not have survived the attack on Asylum, especially if the PC chose to use Valkorion's power.

HK-55: Yes, we get it, you wanted to show everyone that Arcann is a big old monster. The "thrown into carbonite," "slaughtering the Scions" “subjugating both the Republic and Empire” and "ruling as a harsh dictator" plot points didn't get it across quite enough. Dramatic. Yes. And they do bring HK-55 back

My objection to this death is not that they did it - because it actually does fit, even if it's a little extreme - is that they didn't make HK-55's return available to all in the actual main story of the game. I can understand making Shroud of Memory a bonus, because it's cute and funny but doesn't tie super directly into the main plot. But Arma Rasa? I think that should have been for everyone. Yes, I know you can buy it now - and I did - but I still think it should have been main story. If it were, we could have enjoyed HK-55's commentary in the rest of KOTFE and KOTET.

Kaliyo Djannis, Aric Jorgan: Fan service. But it makes no fucking sense. What exactly are you killing them for? They didn't listen, after they tried to compensate and salvage a mission that had gone south? They were left in the lurch because your PC was mission critical and went on a hallucinogenic hiking trip and didn't show up? There's literally nothing you can do to make the mission go right. It always fails, no matter who is in charge or what you tell them to do.

In Kaliyo's case, I really question why the devs thought that she, of all people, would be the character that most players would just love to spend an entire chapter with in one-on-one quality time in KOTFE. I think her kill option was a response to that - "yes, we forced you to play a chapter with this character but look, you can let her go now." Or perhaps it was a response to the frustration some players had with not being able to kill or reject her in the class story.

I think the class story could have sustained a branch where Kaliyo was asked to leave after the Wheezer incident. I think it's reasonable that a player's Agent may not have wanted to continue associating with her at that point. There were four other characters who could have taken her dialogue in the class story missions. But to do it years later? Eh.

In Aric's case, I have no idea what they were thinking. I've never had the feeling he's a character that is widely disliked. They needed to give an option to kill someone along with Kaliyo. I don't know. But it's weird and doesn't make sense IMHO.

Senya: So she's saved her boy. We get it. But considering that Senya also spent several chapters insisting that her children needed to be brought to justice, and was fully willing to engage Vaylin in combat if not kill her - the change of heart was confusing. I think Senya's fate was attached to Arcann's simply to give Arcann greater odds of survival. It seems that people like Senya even if they don't like Arcann. If the two had been separated, I really think less people would have saved Arcann.

Koth: Fan service. Nothing but fucking fan service. I'm sure it had nothing to do with Koth being a LGBTQ+ Black man who actually protested the player's actions and didn't let them off the hook. No, nothing to worry about here with that. That;s sarcasm in case I need to clarify. If things get to the point where Koth has left, your character literally works with him to save the ship and then can kill him while Lana stands there and watches and not a single person protests. After Koth has hijacked the ship and planted a bomb on it. The ship he adores. I can’t even. They could have done so much with this character and they just...did this instead. And then chose to completely ignore him even if he remained in the player's story. I still am salty, years later, that he didn't even get a cameo in the Nathema story. It's not as though the Gravestone's fate would have bothered him at all, amirite?

SCORPIO: One of the few kill options that actually might be justifiable, but the larger question is why she was trusted so much to begin with. And why the game feels it's light side to let her merge with a planet that keeps a necropolis of billions of organics it has slaughtered as research subjects.

Arcann: I feel Arcann should be handled and considered separately because he was not established first as a companion. He was framed and written as an adversary for all of KOTFE. But here we are forced to choose between "let Arcann live and become your new BFF who takes over Lana and Theron's place of trust with no punishment for his crimes" or "kill him on live television! I'm sure I'll be an Instagram Influencer now! Follow me at AllianceCommanderOdesssen uwu!"

Vette; Torian: Completely unnecessary. You have an Alliance that is so large that fighters are literally on the cliffs and in the trees helping you as you progress through the chapter. The Gravestone's taken to the skies. And yet nobody is available to swing by Torian or Vette's position to help them. You and Lana/Theron or Senya/Arcann are literally THE ONLY PEOPLE EVER who can do that. Oh, and the super-smart Hutt scientist in charge of your Research and Development team has given Vette an assault cannon for this huge battle against strong, skilled forces, despite the fact she's only operated an assault cannon...once? For a few minutes? *thumbs up, Oggurobb!*

I feel this was simply done to try to evoke emotion and to erase any sympathy the player may have had for Vaylin, since it immediately follows the Nathema sanitarium visit.

If they really felt the need to go with this, I feel they could have tied it to player actions earlier in the game. Did you do a lot of Alliance Alerts? Did you raise the Specialists' influence above 10? Did you do some of those veteran Star Fortresses and pick up a few extra companions? Then maybe you have enough extra personnel to save both. Quinn: More fan service, served up for those who would have liked to kill or reject Quinn all those years ago in the class story.

Just like Kaliyo - and Skadge, and Tanno Vik - I think the class story could have gone on without him if the Sith Warrior had been allowed to reject him after the Quinncident. I would have rejected him at that point. The writing in the class story could have sustained it. They could have given the healer role to one of the others. And then you'd get a branch where if Quinn was present, he'd show up on Iokath. If not, it would be someone else from the Sith class story, like one of the many Moffs the Warrior meets. Maybe the dude from Ilum, since he doesn't die. Or Hesker.

Theron: Now, here's the issue. The story sets up a scenario where asking Theron to leave because you no longer trust him is understandable. But I plead the case that it never should have gotten to that point. The entire betrayal story was completely unnecessary. Theron NEEDED to go undercover like that? He had a secret language he and Lana developed and just never used it to tip everyone off? He thought frying the Commander on Iokath or throwing her out the train window would be fun? After working so hard for peace, he literally sparked the next galactic war by tipping off everyone about Iokath and manipulating them all into going there so they could learn lots of fun new ways to kill each other?

Come. On. It doesn't make sense. Even in a spy game, I don't think Theron would have really thought that prodding the Empire and Republic to war with each other and the Alliance would have been worth it.

I feel like they could have done so many other things with the Order of Zildrog, and even had the same flashpoints, without making Theron appear to betray the Alliance.

DS Jaesa: *sigh* So she saw the Commander on the Holonet, never thought of coming to Odessen and instead went to Iokath to slaughter Alliance troops. Oh, and threaten to kill Lana, who may be the player’s partner. Again, it sets up a scenario where it makes sense that a player might kill her, but why was that even necessary? The scenario itself doesn't make sense. If you have Master Ranos, she says that Jaesa was spotted hunting for artifacts, I think? Maybe just maybe they could have worked with that?

Xalek: You're killing Xalek for...um...terrorizing miners...and...yeah. Okay. Dude was in the class story for about five minutes so I don't think anyone knows what is going on here.

Broonmark: Yes, he's basically a cold-blooded killer. But he's going after this Wookiee senator because he's allying with the Republic? Or getting some Talz to be allies? The Talz already seem to be aligned Republic. He's a bit late to that party. Why is it that I don't think Broonmark would be into politics or watching the news and would not care about this?

Rusk: Um, yeah, Bey'wan, about that guy you wanted me to recruit, he's, um, dead. Because I decided to sell him out to a Black Sun gang leader. Don't be mad?

Skadge: One of the few kill options I think most could agree is...not that bad. Your mission with Rusk is to kill him. He was an adversary in the game. My headcanon for my bounty hunters is that he never gets on the ship after Belsavis. There’s no way they would have ever brought him along. Another case of correcting something from the class story?

#swtor #swtor critical #rain plays swtor

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captainjanegay · 4 years

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Sharp Dressed Man | Stucky | Meet Cute | 2.1k words | Ao3

Summary:

The curtain is pushed to the side and Steve automatically looks up. The man takes a step out of the cubicle. His head is turned as he looks over his shoulder to check himself in the mirror.

“Oh wow,” Steve breathes out despite himself.

A/N: This one is for my precious Helena @hbalbat based on a meet-cute prompt she's sent me. I'm not completely happy with it, especially the ending but hopefully that's just my sleep deprivation talking. Have fun! ♥

Also let's consider this my third entry for the @stuckybingo2020 because it fits.

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“OK, I might have overdone it.”

Steve looks up from where he’s going through a rack of t-shirts, each one with a more obnoxious print than the other. To his surprise there’s nobody around. After a moment he realises that the deep male voice must have come from one of the cubicles that serve as the shop’s dressing rooms.

“The suit’s nice but I think the turtleneck is a bit much for it.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, confused. Either the guy likes talking to himself or he came with someone who wandered off, instead of waiting for him to change. So Steve goes back to his search and he shakes his head a bit to himself, realising what the guy has said. Turtlenecks are ridiculous, Steve never liked them and usually they just look weird. On anyone. But pairing them with a suit? That’s a whole other level of ridiculous in Steve’s opinion.

The curtain is pushed to the side and Steve automatically looks up. The man takes a step out of the cubicle. His head is turned as he looks over his shoulder to check himself in the mirror.

“I think I’ll take the suit, though. My butt looks good in it,” the man laughs but then he fully turns towards Steve. The laugh dies on his lips. He looks around, a bit confused and then glances back at Steve.

“Oh wow,” Steve breathes out despite himself.

The thing is, the man in front of him is gorgeous. Unfairly so. He is almost as tall as Steve, his dark hair is long, pulled back into a messy bun, one strand falling onto his forehead. Steve fingers itch to brush it back behind his ear. The man’s eyes are bright and there’s a short stubble on his face that only makes him look hotter. He is wearing a dark brown suit that fits his body perfectly. But the weirdest thing? Underneath the suit jacket he has a bright, mustard-y yellow turtleneck and it really shouldn’t work on anyone. But the man looks good. It makes Steve feel a bit weak in the knees.

“Oh,” the man blinks at Steve, his cheeks going pink. “You’re not Natasha.”

Steve mentally slaps himself across the head. There’s nothing better than to drool at the sight of a random man in a clothing store. A straight man, probably. With a possible girlfriend, if Steve wanted to jump to conclusions and he usually did.

“No, I’m not, I’m just Steve, sorry. I just—Looking for—T-shirts—” Steve says, not really sure where he is going with that. “Your girlfriend must’ve wandered off somewhere.”

Not being able to look at the man's face without embarrassing himself further, Steve glances somewhere above his shoulder. His eyes land on the mirror in the changing room and he sees that his entire face is bright red. Way to go, Steve.

"My girlfriend?" the man asks, raising a brow in confusion. "Oh you mean Tasha? She's not… I'm not…"

The man averts his gaze and rubs at his neck, looking rather uncomfortable and Steve really wishes he picked a different store. But on the other hand, if he did he would never have seen this man and it would be a shame. A real shame. No matter how much of an idiot he's making of himself right now, it is kind of worth it if he gets to look at this gorgeous human for a bit longer. This guy could easily be a model. Or maybe he is, Steve wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest. Steve is an artist. He can appreciate beauty. And there is so much beauty to appreciate in this man.

So much beauty.

Steve wonders how weird it would be to ask if the man wanted to pose for him. Steve has already embarrassed himself plenty already so it wouldn’t hurt any more.

“Shit,” the man says to himself with a breathy laugh. He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to—,” he waves his hand vaguely between them and laughs again. “I just thought my friend will be useful for once and give me her opinion but apparently she just left me in the lurch.”

“For what it’s worth—you look incredible,” Steve says, sincerely. He can’t stop his eyes from wandering down the man’s body and then back up. “It—Really suits you.”

To Steve’s surprise he doesn’t get punched for—quite obviously—checking the guy out. It could be because of his size—it usually discourages people from trying to fight him, even though they sometimes want to. Like when he tells them that being racist, misogynist or a homophobe is a very fucking bad thing to be, for example. But the man doesn’t even look like he wants to punch Steve. Quite the contrary, a small smirk appears on his face. He tilts his head to the side and straightens up with confidence, even though his cheeks are still a bit pink.

“You think so? It’s not too much?” the man asks, apparently not noticing that Steve’s about to die.

“It’s great. You look great. And that’s coming from someone who despises turtlenecks,” Steve hopes that his smile is sincere, maybe even a little flirty and not as nervous as he feels.

The guy raises an eyebrow in response and he glances down before saying, “That’s fair. I don’t think there’s a turtleneck big enough to contain all of these muscles anyway. And it would be really unfair to hide those collarbones of yours.”

Automatically, Steve looks down where the two top buttons of his Henley are left open and it takes him a second to fully understand what the man just said. Is he being flirted with? Is the most attractive person he’s ever seen flirting with him? When Steve looks back up, the man’s eyes are already fixed on him, his smirk bigger and definitely more amused now.

OK, maybe Steve was too quick with labelling the man as straight. Or at least he hopes he was.

“I’m Bucky,” the man offers. Despite the fact that it’s a rather unique name—or nickname, who knows—Steve finds it quite fitting. “And you’re Steve, if I got that correctly?”

Steve nods with a smile, not really sure at which point of his mumbling he managed to introduce himself. For a moment they just stare at each other. Steve is not sure whether he wants to run or get significantly closer to the man. To Bucky, he reminds himself. Before he can do either of those things, Bucky shakes his head slightly and blinks.

“Right,” he says, taking a step back. He points his thumb at the changing room behind him and smiles. “I’d better—Gonna change and—Thanks for your opinion, Steve. You’re very—helpful.”

When Bucky turns away and grabs the curtain, Steve decides to take a chance. After all he was never the one to back down from a challenge.

“Hey, Bucky?” he calls.

With his hand curled around the curtain, Bucky looks over his shoulder at Steve. “Yeah?”

“Your butt looks really good in that suit.”

The curtain flutters close but Steve still can hear Bucky’s melodic laugh. He grins to himself.

And that’s when a small, redheaded woman walks over to the changing rooms and raises one of her perfect eyebrows at Steve.

“James? What are you wearing that makes a hot stranger compliment your ass?” she says with her eyes still trained on Steve as she reaches to grab the curtain behind which Bucky has just disappeared.

And that’s when Steve decides it’s his time to run.

Steve wanders around the mall for another hour or so. For some reason, he feels reluctant to walk into any other clothing store. It might be because he is worried he’d bump into Bucky again and embarrass himself further or it might just be trauma. It’s not ideal. Especially because his main goal of coming here was to buy some clothes so Sam would stop complaining about his “grandpa wardrobe”. Which is an obvious exaggeration, it’s not that bad. And Sam owns his fair share of khakis and checkered button-ups, so he is in no position to judge. But Steve figured that buying a new pair of jeans, some t-shirts and maybe a jacket won’t hurt.

Instead, he goes to a stationery shop and walks out with a new set of pencils and a sketchbook. The one he has is already half full anyway. Nearby, there’s a bookstore and Steve saunters between the shelves for a while, picking up whatever book catches his eye. He doesn’t really intend to buy anything but in the end he gets a sci-fi novel he wanted to read for a while but hasn't gotten to yet.

Steve would totally consider it a successful trip to the mall and called it a day. Sadly, he can imagine Sam laughing at his mumbled explanation as to why he didn't buy any clothes. So instead of going home, he decides to grab a coffee and then try to face the clothing store again. It can’t be that hard.

Rounding the corner, Steve collides with someone coming in the opposite direction. Automatically, he grabs the other person’s arm to help them regain their balance.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t—” Steve starts and looks up. Just as quickly, he completely forgets what he was meaning to say next.

It’s Bucky.

Bucky’s standing barely two feet away. His eyes are some kind of stormy blue and there are freckles splattered across his nose and part of his cheeks. Looking at him from this close is making it hard to breathe for Steve.

When recognition dawns on him, a smile blooms on Bucky’s face, “Hi, Steve!”

“Hi,” Steve just answers weakly. Only now he realises that his hand is still wrapped around Bucky’s bicep—a very nice bicep, Steve can feel the muscle hidden underneath Bucky’s layers of clothing and tries not to think about it too hard—and takes a step back, putting down his hand.

Obviously, Bucky is not in the outfit he had at the store but he still looks like he'd walked straight out of a fashion magazine. Now he's wearing a black button-up with little white dots all over it and a black leather jacket. His bun is even messier, several loose strands tucked behind his ear, but he still looks as attractive as before. Or maybe Steve is just biased.

"Fancy bumping into you again," Bucky says, seeming genuinely happy.

"You too," Steve finally gets a grip on himself and smiles. "Did you buy the suit?"

Bucky chuckles at that, blushing, "I did, actually. The turtleneck, too. Your…um, feedback was very helpful. Tasha approved, too." He glances to his side and furrows his brows. Turning around in a full circle, he looks back at Steve. "And apparently she ditched me again. I swear I'm not making her up!"

"I believe you, I've seen her back in the store," Steve assures him with a laugh. "Petite redhead, very intense stare?"

"Sounds like Natasha. She's great, at least when she's not busy abandoning me in shopping malls. Did you get whatever you needed? I didn't see you around when I left the changing room."

Tilting his head to the side, Steve just stares for a moment. Did that mean Bucky looked for him? The thought makes his insides twist in a slightly uncomfortable but pleasant way. Steve tries not to get his hopes up. The pink tinge on Bucky's cheeks doesn't help with that.

"Not really, couldn't find anything fitting," Steve says.

It's not exactly a lie, he just doesn't add that he was too embarrassed to face Bucky after complimenting his butt. Bucky opens his mouth, then closes it and bites the inside of his cheek, deciding against whatever he wanted to say. Steve raises an eyebrow at him. "What?" he asks.

"Nothing," Bucky says. "Just trying not to say something highly inappropriate again to a guy I don't really know."

The hope flutters in Steve's stomach, making him grin. At this point he's pretty confident that his initial assessment of Bucky was wrong. So he feels bold enough to ask, "You know, I was actually on my way to grab a coffee. Maybe you'd like to join me?"

"Sure, that would be nice," Bucky smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling adorably.

Steve might be a bit gone already.

"I'm still not gonna say, though. If that's your plan," Bucky adds and before Steve can say anything, he smirks. "It's gonna take more than one coffee to break me."

And this sounds like a challenge Steve's determined to win.“

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Title: Sharp Dressed Man Creator(s): niallhoranbitches Card number: 065 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961397 Square filled: E2 - Muscles Rating: Teen and Up Archive warnings: None Major tags: Meet Cute, No Powers AU Summary: The curtain is pushed to the side and Steve automatically looks up. The man takes a step out of the cubicle. His head is turned as he looks over his shoulder to check himself in the mirror.

“Oh wow,” Steve breathes out despite himself. Word count: 2118

#stucky #stuckyfic #stuckybingo2020 #stucky fic #stucky fanfiction #stevebucky fic #stevebuckyfic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #ok so #i really wanted to finish and post it today #as a little gift for you #after long and bad day at work #so hopefully it will make you smile at least a bit #even though i messed up a bit #and the header is meh #but i really wanted to do an edit for it #but its late so thats how it looks daskj #sorry #also fun meta fact - natasha totally does it on purpose #she disappears just to let steve and bucky talk #and after they go for coffee bucky wants to text her #but he finds a text from her instead #saying like #'don't let go of a man who can appreciate your butt james'#'follow your dreams and lick his abs'#because natasha's supportive like that djsakdas #lmao this is way too long and i really should go to sleep #i love u helena ♥#if you got that far into tags lmao

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pikapeppa · 4 years

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Felassan/Lavellan modern AU: Habit

Chapter 3 of Inadvisable (professor Solas AU) is posted!

In which Tamaris gets pulled into an odd conversation with a strange man named Felassan, then pulls him back into something that involves considerably less talking. 👀

Drop-dead gorgeous art by @elbenherzart!!

~3400 words; read on AO3 instead.

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- TAMARIS -

Tamaris should’ve stayed home.

She propped one elbow on the cocktail table and idly looked around. The campus bar was full to bursting with faculty and grad students. Many of the grad students looked younger than her, and all of them were bright and shiny and enthusiastic about starting their grad careers.

Good for them, she thought flatly. She took a sip of her whiskey and raised an eyebrow at Athera. “You’re drinking that cider awfully slowly, considering the day you had.”

Athera sighed. “I wish I could get buzzed, believe me. But the last thing I want to do is show up at work hungover tomorrow and have Abelas — sorry, professor Abelas — thinking I’m a drunk as well as an incompetent baby.”

Tamaris curled her lip. “I still can’t believe he insisted on you calling him ‘professor’. What a dick.”

“Shh,” Athera hissed. She elbowed Tamaris. “Keep your voice down! He might be here. Or one of the other faculty will hear you.”

“I don’t give a shit who hears me,” Tamaris said.

“Okay, then you can find me another research coordinator job at this university,” Athera said brightly. “Make sure it’s a history or social studies lab, though. I’m a little rusty in my organic chem. I wouldn’t want to go blowing up a building by accident or something.”

Tamaris rolled her eyes. “All right, all right, I get it.” She sipped her drink again, then glanced at Nare, whose big blue eyes were scanning the room as though she was looking for someone. She was also already nursing her second cocktail of the night, which was unusual for her.

Tamaris nudged her. “What’s up with you?”

Nare glanced at her. “Hm? What do you mean?”

“You’ve been weird all afternoon since you got home from the museum,” Tamaris said. “Did you have an artistic epiphany or something while you were there?”

Nare smiled distractedly, but her eyes were still shifting around the room. “Uh… um, no. It was a good exhibit. You should go.”

“I will,” Tamaris said. “But seriously, you’re being cagey as fuck.”

Athera snorted a laugh, and Nare finally turned to face them fully. “I’m not being cagey!”

“You are too. You look like you’re being hunted,” Tamaris said matter-of-factly. “Or like you’re hunting for someone. I can’t decide.”

Athera pulled a little face. “You are acting kind of weird, lethallan. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Nare said brightly. “Just excited! First day jitters, you know. Almost first day, I mean.”

“Uh-huh,” Tamaris said. She eyed Nare skeptically, then tilted her head. “I like your dress.”

Nare smiled and smoothed a hand over the short flowy skirt of her cranberry-red dress. “Thanks! It’s my favourite.”

Athera brushed a bit of lint from Nare’s shoulder. “Isn’t this the one you usually wear on first dates?”

“You’re right, it is,” Tamaris said. She raised her eyebrows at Nare. “Why are you wearing your sexy first-date dress?”

Nare scoffed. “You guys are such stalkers. It’s not a first-date dress, it’s a confidence dress.”

Athera shrugged affably. “Red is the colour of confidence.”

“Exactly,” Nare said. She took another sip from her drink — more of a gulp, really — then looked at Athera. “So you didn’t meet Solas today at the lab, then?”

“No, but Merrill said he should be here tonight,” Athera said. “That would be nice if you met him tonight, hey? Get it out of the way so it’s not so nerve-wracking tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Nare said, and she drained the last of her drink.

Tamaris narrowed her eyes at Nare, but before she could pick on her some more, Athera straightened up and tapped Nare’s arm. “Oh, speaking of Merrill, she’s over there with Dagna and Tamlen! Come on, you should meet them. I’ll introduce you guys.” She looped her arm through Tamaris’s elbow, but Tamaris balked.

“You go ahead,” she said. “I’ll wait here.”

Athera’s face fell. “Why? You should come meet them! We’re probably going to end up spending a lot of time hanging out with them.”

Tamaris shook her head and extracted her arm from Athera’s grip. “It’s all right. You guys go have your ancient Elvhen lab chat. I’ll be here.”

“Seriously, Tam, are you okay?” Nare asked.

Her expression was apologetic, and Tamaris frowned. Nare and Athera both knew she hated making small talk with strangers. “I’m fine,” she said testily. “Why are you asking?”

Nare pulled a little face. “I don’t know. I just… now I feel kind of bad dragging you here.”

Tamaris gave her a chiding look. “Don’t feel bad. It’s fine. You meant well.” She rolled her eyes. “Getting the fuck out of the house is apparently good for people sometimes.”

Nare smirked, then squeezed her arm. “All right, we won’t be gone long.”

Tamaris nodded and watched as Athera and Nare slipped away into the crowd. She sighed and finished her whiskey, then leaned her elbows on the table and watched the new students chattering with each other and making nervous attempts to talk to the faculty members.

“Well, you look out of place.”

Tamaris rolled her eyes at the strange male voice. Some men just couldn’t get the hint to fuck off even if it was practically stamped across the back of her leather jacket.

She glanced dismissively at the man who’d spoken to her, then paused in surprise. He was a tall lean elf with unusual violet eyes and a cocky little smirk. But it was his hair that really surprised her. His midnight-black hair was long and lustrous, probably longer than Tamaris’s if it was loose, but it was pulled into a neat bun at his nape, with two understated braids that coursed from his temples back into the bun: a style that was both classic and foreign.

“Like you should talk,” she said. “You’re from Arlathan, aren’t you?”

The stranger smiled. “What gave me away? The accent? The sense of superiority?”

Tamaris smirked despite herself. “Definitely the accent. The superiority hasn’t reared its head yet.”

He chuckled and stepped a little closer to her. “Yet, you say? I’ll keep that in mind and try to hide it for as long as possible.”

She huffed. “Don’t bother. If you’re an asshole, might as well just admit it up front.”

“But then you would stop talking to me,” he said.

“Yeah, I would,” she said bluntly. “It would save us both a lot of time.”

His smile widened, and he held out his hand. “Felassan.”

She hesitated for a second, then shook his hand. “Tamaris.”

“Tamaris,” he said slowly. He released her hand. “That’s a classic Elvhen name. Do you know what it means?”

Oh boy, she thought ruefully. “Let me guess: you’re going to tell me,” she drawled.

“I could, if you like,” he said.

She eyed him skeptically, then turned to face him and folded her arms. “Go on, then. Tell me.”

He leaned casually against the cocktail table and folded his arms as well. “‘Tamaris’ means ‘my forever second’. The meaning is not unlike ‘best friend forever’ or ‘partner forever’.”

Tamaris barked out a rough little laugh. “What a line. How lucky for you that it doesn’t mean something unflattering like ‘thorny weed’.”

“It is lucky, isn’t it?” Felassan said pleasantly. “But then again, one man’s weed is another man’s favourite flower.”

She stared at him incredulously. That was smooth as hell. How had he come up with that response so fast? “I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?” she asked. “Are you a student?”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Do I look like a student?”

“No, actually,” Tamaris said. “You’re dressed like shit compared to everyone else here.” To be fair, Felassan wasn’t badly dressed; his black jeans and Converse sneakers were well-fitted and clean, and his Veilfire t-shirt was also a flattering fit that showcased his lean but muscled chest. All the same, he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt when every other man in the room was wearing blazers or collared shirts.

He snickered. “I could say the same about you. I don’t see any other women here in combat boots.”

“Well, I’m not a student,” Tamaris said.

“Neither am I,” Felassan said. “Not anymore.”

“Oh,” Tamaris said. “Congratulations.”

He tilted his head. “Why do you say that?”

“I…” She trailed off, feeling a little nonplussed. “I assumed you finished your degree.”

“What degree do you assume that I finished?”

“Uh… fuck, I don’t know.” She stared at him with growing bemusement. “Did you finish a degree?”

“I did, in fact,” he said. “I finished my PhD two years ago.”

“Oh,” she said again. Then she frowned at him. “Then why the fuck were you giving me such a hard time about saying congratulations?”

He smirked. “For the pleasure of seeing the confusion paint your pretty face.”

She stared at him for a second longer, then scoffed. “Fuck’s sake. You’re a real menace, you know that?”

“Thank you,” he said cheerfully. “I try my hardest.”

She huffed in amusement and reached for her whiskey glass, then realized it was empty. Felassan nodded his chin at her glass. “Would you care for another?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why are you talking to me?”

“Should I not be talking to you?” he asked.

She shrugged. Now that he was talking to her, she didn’t really mind, but it didn’t explain what had brought him over in the first place. “I don’t exactly look inviting,” she said.

“That’s true,” he agreed.

“So what then?” she demanded. “Why did you bother me?”

“Because I like the look of your face,” he said.

She raised her eyebrows. “My face? You mean my resting bitch face that you totally ignored?”

He smiled, but his tone was serious. “I mean that you weren’t smiling. Yours was the only face in this crowd that wasn’t smiling.”

She shot him a look of rebuke. “So what, you came over here to make me smile? Did you think smiling would make me more pretty?”

“You mistake my meaning,” he said. “You were not smiling, but you looked as if you were seeking a reason to smile.”

Something in her belly twisted uncomfortably. She huffed and looked away from him. “Aren’t you a fancy fucking fortune-teller.”

“Not at all,” he said. “Just someone who recognizes the feeling.”

She glanced at him once more. For the first time since he’d come over to her, his expression was completely serious.

She dropped his gaze again and shrugged. “All right. I could use another drink.”

A small smile lifted his lips, and he gallantly ushered her to the bar. A minute later, he handed her a glass of whiskey before lifting his own.

“Enansal’in,” he said. “Or ‘cheers’, as you would probably say.”

“Cheers,” she said. She tapped her glass to his, then eyed him as she sipped her drink. He was undeniably smooth, which instantly made her suspicious. He’d also obviously been watching her, since he knew exactly what she’d been drinking.

Some women might find it charming. Tamaris found it creepy. On the other hand, he was hot and clever, and she hadn’t had sex since she and the girls had moved to Orlais a few months ago. And if Felassan wasn’t a student anymore, she probably wouldn’t get stuck running into him through Nare or Athera.

She gulped down the rest of her drink, then placed her glass on the bar. “Do you smoke deep mushroom?”

He grinned. “Deep mushroom isn’t legal in Orlais.”

“I don’t give a fuck what’s illegal in Orlais,” she retorted.

Felassan chuckled. “You really are my kind of woman.”

She scoffed. “Come on, then,” she said. She pushed away from the bar and headed for the door, and a minute later, they were standing against the wall in the empty alley beside the campus bar.

Tamaris pulled a joint of elfroot and deep mushroom from her purse and deftly lit it, then offered it to Felassan. He took it with a smile and brought the joint to his lips, then took a deep drag and released the smoke in a series of perfect rings.

“Show-off,” Tamaris accused.

He treated her to another handsome grin, then handed her the joint. “Where do you hail from, then, if you smoke deep mushroom with such impunity?”

“Kirkwall, most recently,” Tamaris replied.

He nodded. “Ah, Kirkwall. I’ve heard tales. Is it true that it’s possible to get anything there if you know the right people?”

Tamaris huffed in amusement. “Pretty much, yeah.” She took another drag of deep mushroom and handed him the joint, then eyed him thoughtfully as he smoked it. “You’ve never been there, then?”

He shook his head and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Orlais is the only place I’ve been since leaving Arlathan.”

Tamaris nodded slowly. “Orlais is… honestly, there are better places to visit. You should travel more.”

“Are you well-travelled?” he asked.

“I wouldn’t say that, really, but I’ve visited a few places,” she said. “Rivain, Antiva, a few of the Free Marcher states…”

Felassan raised his eyebrows. “That sounds well-travelled to me. You have been many places more than I.” He held out the joint.

Tamaris took the joint and brought it to her lips. “Our reservation is just east of Starkhaven, so it’s pretty well-situated for making trips along the east coast.”

“Reservation?” Felassan said. “You’re Dalish, then?”

Tamaris frowned. She hadn’t meant to tell him that. She didn’t usually like getting into the ‘are you actually Dalish’ conversation with strangers.

Serves me right for smoking deep mushroom with a stranger, she thought ruefully. She took another deep drag, then held out the joint to him. “Yeah. I’m really Dalish. This vallaslin isn’t just a ‘cute aesthetic’.”

Felassan nodded thoughtfully. “That tattoo means something to you.”

“Of course it does,” she said. Then she gave him an appraising look. “I’m kind of surprised you don’t have vallaslin.”

He smiled slowly before exhaling a mouthful of smoke. “Why is that?” he asked.

“Vallaslin is an ancient Elvhen tradition,” she said. “I thought you Arlathani elves knew those traditions better than we do.”

He laughed softly and handed her the joint. “I would no more compare Dalish and Arlathani traditions than I would compare a dragon and a lizard.”

Tamaris narrowed her eyes. “And who’s the lizard in this scenario? Us or you?”

“Either,” Felassan said. “Take your pick. The dragon and the lizard are so far removed as to defy comparison.”

Tamaris lifted her chin. “You’re telling me you don’t think the dragon is more powerful than the lizard?”

He gazed at her in silence for a moment before replying. “I’m saying there might be a reason I am still in Orlais even though I finished my degree two years ago.”

Tamaris studied him wordlessly. His lips were curled at the corners with humour, but there was something about his eyes on her face that felt… piercing, somehow. Like he was seeing more on her face than just her vallaslin.

She looked away from him and took one last deep drag from the joint, then dropped the butt on the ground. She blew out the smoke in a long exhale, then turned back to Felassan.

She stepped very close to him and curled her fingers in the fabric of his t-shirt, and a wicked smile lit his face. “Is there something I can help you with?” he said.

His voice was laced with mischief and a hint of heat, and a little seed of lust bloomed deep in her belly. “Yes,” she said, and she kissed him.

His lips parted beneath hers, and Tamaris dipped her tongue into his smoke-perfumed mouth. His hands rose to cradle her neck before sliding into her hair, and Tamaris savoured the warmth of his palms on her scalp.

Felassan’s tongue slid smoothly around her own, a slow heated caress inside of her mouth, and Tamaris was surprised to feel her shoulders relaxing at the slow and soothing movement of his mouth over hers. Then his fingers tightened in her hair, and he gently tugged her head back.

She gasped as a rush of lust fanned through her body. A second later, she was pressed against the cool alley wall with Felassan’s hands in her hair and his mouth at her throat.

She gasped again and clenched her fingers in his shirt. His teeth and lips were trailing slowly along the tendon in her neck with a torturous sort of delicacy, and the frantic pulse between her legs was a total mismatch with how slowly and carefully he was kissing her neck.

He lapped gently at her neck, and she dragged in a breath. “F-fuck,” she whimpered.

He dropped another tantalizing kiss on her throat, then leaned away slightly and stroked her neck with his palms. “Tamaris, I thought you should know. I… don’t make a habit of this.”

“A habit of what?” she panted.

“Kissing strangers in alleyways outside of bars,” he murmured.

She scoffed. “Uh-huh.”

He quirked one eyebrow. “You don’t believe me?”

“With how smooth you are?” she said archly. “Of course I don’t fucking believe you.” Not that it mattered whether this was a habit of his or not; she was primed and ready for him, and she didn’t care if she never heard from him again after this, not if he was able to fuck her as well as he kissed.

He smiled slowly and stepped even closer to her — close enough that the hard ridge of his groin was pressing against her belly. Her eyelids fluttered at the feel of his hardness, and he chuckled softly. “I can understand your suspicion,” he murmured. “Words are cheap and easy, aren’t they?”

She nodded distractedly, and Felassan tilted her chin up with one hand. “This is a conundrum, then. How to convince you that I’m not the playboy that you take me for?”

“I don’t care if you’re a playboy,” she panted.

He brushed his lips over hers. “I do,” he whispered. He kissed her softly, then coaxed her lips apart with little careful laps of his tongue before sealing his lips over hers.

Tamaris whimpered, but the sound was muffled by his tongue sliding smoothly along the length of hers. He was so gorgeous, and his kisses were so careful and delicious, and when was the last time anyone had kissed her like this? That anyone had taken the time to really kiss her, like the kissing in itself was an act worth enjoying in its own right rather than the necessary prelude to something more?

Not that she didn’t want more – gods, did she ever want more. And her apartment was just a fifteen-minute walk down the street…

She gripped Felassan’s hips and pressed herself firmly against his front. He broke their kiss and groaned: a gorgeous, bone-melting sound that trickled down her spine and lit a fresh pulse of desire through her core.

Then he released her and stepped away.

She stared breathlessly at him. His cock was a visible ridge in his pants, and he was smiling broadly.

“Goodnight, Tamaris,” he said. “It was a pleasure to meet you.” He bowed his head politely, then turned and walked away.

Tamaris watched in disbelief as he turned the corner and disappeared. By the time she was able to move her lust-paralyzed limbs and step out of the alley back onto the street, he was gone.

Un-fucking-believable, she thought. She stood on the sidewalk for a second, torn about what to do next. Should she go home and get herself off, or should she go back into the campus bar and get rip-roaring drunk by herself? She honestly couldn’t decide which option was more tempting or pathetic.

She sighed heavily, then pulled her phone out of her purse to find a number of texts from Athera.

-Athera 22:37- Where are you? Did you go home?

-Athera 22:37- Nare abandoned me to talk to someone else lol

-Athera 22:45- Taaaaaaaam don’t ghost me ilu ToT

-Athera 22:48- Seriously though I should probably get going soon, early work tmr ugh. Are you guys gonna come home with me? Hot choccy when we get home? I’ll make it :3

That was about ten minutes ago. Tamaris sighed and shoved back her hair, then tapped out a reply.

-Tamaris 22:58- Just outside for some air. Coming back in

She dropped her phone back in her purse, then realized something: neither she nor Felassan had thought to get each other’s phone numbers.

She froze for a second, then laughed bitterly to herself. Of course she hadn’t gotten his phone number. And of course she hadn’t gotten any sex. That was just her luck.

“Fuck’s sake,” she muttered, then shoved open the door to the campus bar and went back inside.

#felassan #felassan/lavellan #felassan x lavellan #inadvisable #professor solas au #pikapeppa writes #elbenherzart

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diyeoracha · 4 years

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IwaOi Master Fic Rec List (50+ Fics)

Hello! In celebration accumulating over 190+ bookmarks on my AO3 account featuring IwaOi and Iwaizumi coming back into the manga (and for his (almost) birthday), I decided to create a masterlist of all of my favorite fanfictions in order to keep myself organized as well as contributing to more traffic on those works! I decided to split the works up by my own self-imposed genres, such as angst, coming-of-age (or the childhood-friends-to-lovers trope that we all love which depicts how their relationship changes as they grow up and will mostly be canon-compliant), and alternate universe. With the revival of Iwaizumi in the manga, alternate universes will be broken down into adulting AU where he and Oikawa’s diverge differs from in canon and actual, legit AU where there’s basically no volleyball.

I’ll include the title, link, word count, fic summary, and my own commentary (mostly for my own personal entertainment). While the AO3 fandom has been going strong since 2014, I personally have only been reading IwaOi fics for about 3 months, so I will most likely be recommending some cult-favorites, especially since I’ve been reading my fics by sorting through the tag with the most kudos.

My absolute favorites (or the ones where I personally push onto my IRL haikyuu friends) will be denoted with ♡ in increments of 1-3 with 3 ♡ being an absolute must-read. Fics marked with a * indicate that Iwaizumi or Oikawa or both are professional athletes because that’s honestly my Favorite Trope. This is incomplete as I got distracted while re-reading a lot of these and have only gone through half of my bookmarks, but feel free to check my own page here for the rest of them! This took me about 9 days to compile (aka this was in my drafts for about 9 days) but I do hope you guys enjoy reading these and leave comments and kudos!

Adulting AU

*♡♡Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad)

Word count: 19k

Summary: It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

Thoughts: THIS IS IT. THIS FIC IS GOD TIER. They’ve been separated but now are falling back into old habits and there’s a confession on the line? Akaashi is in here and he’s pretty funny. I reread this all the time.

*♡♡♡the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle

Word count: 66k

Summary: Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

Thoughts: Absolutely the best IwaOi fic I’ve ever read. I’ve reread this about 4x and I always pay attention to a new sentence or detail that leaves me breathless. The characterization is pretty spot on, and I have to admit that this fic made me appreciate IwaOi a little more. I’ve cried countless times too. A cult-favorite but it doesn’t have nearly as many hits as it deserves.

♡days fall away

Word count: 17k

Summary: Except now he’s back home, so close to his old haunts and to Oikawa himself, and it's—weird.

Thoughts: They’ve separated for a bit but now they’re back in the same city and learning to be around each other again. Cue teasing from the biological and Seijoh family

it's been so long (nobody knows me the way you do)

Word count: 8k

Summary: Tooru hums, only half-listening. Somewhere along the way, Hajime’s palm has settled itself over the curve of Tooru’s cheek, thumb tracing over the line of his jaw.

Thoughts: They’re living together post-college feat. snapshots from their lives before getting together and their Seijoh team! It’s really soft but it manages a humorous tone as well.

Time

Word count: 5k

Summary: When they're twenty-three, their story only begins.

Thoughts: A piecewise fic told from Oikawa’s point of view. The tone is almost chatty but it really fits the pacing of the work as you get snippets and sentences of their relationship throughout the years

♡Almost a Stranger

Word count: 16k

Summary: Iwa-chan's leaving Japan. Tooru's not sure he can forgive him, but he's not going to admit his long-held feelings, either. A trip to Miyajima complicates everything.

Thoughts: They go on vacation right before Iwaizumi leaves Oikawa for a year. Oikawa ponders their relationship.

where fireflies never die

Word count: 4k

Summary: >>Oikawa: Hey Iwa-chan >>Oikawa: Did I ruin it?

Thoughts: Oikawa is a mangaka and basically writes his best selling series based off of him and Iwaizumi. This was pretty angsty ngl with a lot of introspection and second-guessing.

In the Business of Love

Word count: 22k

Summary: Meet Oikawa Tooru: He's a best-selling shoujo manga artist, a hardcore romantic and you won't believe where he's getting his lovey dovey fodder from...Enter Iwaizumi Hajime: He's Oikawa's best friend, a realist who also happens to be a wedding magazine writer despite not believing in romance...

Thoughts: Mangaka Oikawa but this is basically a rom-com lmao

Alternate Universe

Even Heroes (have the right to dream)

Word count: 20k

Summary: Oikawa Tooru, ace reporter of the superhero beat of Asahi Shimbun, hates superheroes. Or maybe he just hasn’t met the knight one yet.

Thoughts: Superhero-hiding-his-identity-Iwaizumi and begrudging Oikawa? Sign me up. This fic spent a little more time on worldbuilding than eventual romance, but it is still absolutely unique and entertaining

The secret omega

Word count: 17k

Summary: Iwaizumi’s annoying as fuck best friend. Who absolutely, definitely, no matter what, cannot find out that Iwaizumi is an omega.

Thoughts: A/B/O dynamics where Iwa is the omega and Oikawa is the alpha. 90% plot building which is pretty nice.

Conquering the Great King

Word count: 105k

Summary: Oikawa's lips twitched into a smirk and he brought them hovering just over Iwaizumi's, "One time thing, Two time thing, what's it matter as long as it's not a Relationship thing?"

Thoughts: Malicious and flirtatious Oikawa meet immovable object Iwaizumi. They’re businessmen trying to navigate friends-with-benefits and love all at the same time. A+ sex scenes tbh.

♡Infinite Risks

Word count: 8k

Summary: “It’s my fate,” Oikawa responds slowly. He’s crying.“It’s too lonely,” Iwaizumi’s heart sounded broken. “And I’m not there with you. Not really.”

Thoughts: Edge of Tomorrow AU!!!!! Please watch Edge of Tomorrow first because it’s truly a brilliant movie that I wholly enjoyed and this fic reflects that. This also made me really sad so Beware

*♡Something Like Us

Word count: 28k

Summary: Friends since childhood, Oikawa and Iwaizumi now live together, both playing for the National Team. It's no secret that athletes who are bonded perform better. So if the two of them happen to bond...It'd be for the good of the team, right?

Thoughts: ABO dynamics (and somewhat canon-compliant) as they’re roommates, on the national team, and try to navigate being “fake” mated while harboring feelings

And All the Prince’s Men

Word count: 65k

Summary: “Father only loves that which he owns, and I am the one thing that can never truly be his.”

Thoughts: Royal bastard son Oikawa and his servant Iwaizumi. An enthralling read and universe. The romance takes a secondary seat here as it focuses more on plot and world-building.

♡long nights, no peace

Word count: 18k

Summary: It's the steady knowledge that Iwaizumi Hajime will always be someone that he can rely on, that no matter what the world throws at the two of them, they share in a piece of each other's soul.

Thoughts: Pacific Rim! AU. Otherwise known as my favorite types of AUs because they’re basically soulmates (platonic or not,, but they’re not platonic here)

♡(sing with me) A Song of Conquest and Fate

Word count: 26k

Summary: When Seijou receives a missive from Aobajousai to discuss a potential peace, its emperor Oikawa Tooru could not have foreseen the series of events that would follow.

Thoughts: Warring states/historical fantasy AU. The world building is amazing and this author has great control over her language use

Cotton Breathing

Word count: 13k

Summary:

Thoughts: Long-distance and summer only but childhood friends Iwaoi!!! A dreamy summer piece and reading it almost makes me feel like I’m in a Studio Ghibli movie because of the mood it puts me in

Similar Creatures

Word count: 53k

Summary: "What's your name?" "Whatever you want it to be."(Or, Oikawa gets directions from an attractive stranger on a street corner.)

Thoughts: Iwaizumi is an escort and Oikawa needs a fancy date

Space

Word count: 44k

Summary: Tries not to think of his rooftop garden, or the apartment he used to inhabit, or Hajime’s broken expression on the night they whispered their goodbyes before Tooru’s launch, attempting to push it all to the back of his mind behind visions of this alien world terraformed

Thoughts: Oikawa’s in outerspace. They’re separated. This left me feeling pretty empty ngl.

♡here comes your man

Word count: 8k

Summary: Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties.

Thoughts: Doctor AU where Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s relationship is pondered by Suga

In the Telling

Word count: 6k

Summary: Muggleborn Iwaizumi could not be less impressed with pureblood Oikawa Tooru.

Thoughts: Harry Potter AU where they’re in the same year and aren’t really friends but are also friends

♡♡The Loyalty of A Traitor

Word count: 76k

Summary: Iwaizumi Hajime was an undercover officer with a single objective: Infiltrate the Seijoh Syndicate of the Yakuza and tear them down from the inside out. His primary target was the boss, Oikawa Tooru. The job itself was simple enough, until Iwaizumi got in too deep and absconded not only from the mission, but from the city itself.

Thoughts: Oh fuck this was Good. Yakuza boss Oikawa???? Disgraced Iwaizumi??? Do they fall in love (again)?

and suddenly, we were traitors

Word count: 17k

Summary: "sorry, it's just... you’ve been amazingly kind to me these past few days. ...but i'm still not sure who you are.”

Thoughts: The amnesia fic this fandom needed

Trial by Fire

Word count: 78k

Summary: (lawyer!AU - in which Iwaizumi loves his objections, Oikawa is beautiful, and they have more chemistry than two opposing attorneys probably should.)

Thoughts: Hot

dear diary, i met a boy

Word count: 15k

Summary: Iwaizumi's first impression of his upstairs neighbor involves getting woken up at two in the morning to the sound of Oikawa singing along to trashy pop music. He'd thought it would get better, but it all just goes downhill from there.

Thoughts: Model Oikawa and salaryman Iwaizumi meet and try to make it work

on shipwreck shore

Word count: 8k

Summary: “I’m going to murder you in cold blood and feed you to the basilisks,” Iwaizumi says conversationally.“You can’t do that, I’m your boss,” Oikawa sings, positively sparkling. “Also we’re partners, which means,” he points at Iwaizumi and leans in, “you’re stuck with me.”

Thoughts: Detectives but they’re actually funny

♡Lockdown

Word count: 72k

Summary: Within the first few months of his stay, Oikawa gets caught up in a war between cellblocks, becomes a prime target, and must decide just how far he's willing to go to protect Iwaizumi Hajime.

Thoughts: Orange is the New Black AU!!! Im a sl*t for tatted Iwaizumi

an allegory of all the things we could’ve been

Word count: 16k

Summary: “I don’t know anything about some red string,” Iwaizumi murmurs into the cracks of Oikawa’s skin, “or even about lifetimes or fate. But no matter where you are, I’ll find you. Gods or otherwise.”

Thoughts: Reincarnation AU throughout the timelines. A good soft read that leaves you sort of empty

Angst

Timeless (We Have 30 Days)

Word count: 12k

Summary: Or AU where you're branded 50 days before you die. But Oikawa doesn't tell anyone so now there's only 30 days left.

Thoughts: Ahhhhhhhhh tears

the weight of water

Word count: 6k

Summary: “Again,” he says, the smallest tremor in his voice, and Oikawa blinks at him a moment before smiling, soft and sweet. “Iwa-chan,” he replies, and Iwaizumi closes his eyes. “Again.” “Iwa-chan.”

Thoughts: Death fic

open when

Word count: 1k

Summary: Iwaizumi knew it was coming, but it still hurt. It still hurt when he opens one letter and drowns it in the tears he cannot keep at bay.

Thoughts: It takes only 1.6k words to make me cry

Canon Compliant/Coming-Of-Age

♡♡i sing the body electric

Word count: 8k

Summary: It was never part of the plan, falling in love with his best friend, but then again, most things in Iwaizumi’s life that involve Oikawa rarely unfold the way he thinks they will.

Thoughts: A beautifully introspective piece told from Iwaizumi’s point of view. It’s wholly intimate and it toes along the lines of pining and soft angst. It’s told in snippets from their lives growing up together.

♡we can do better than that

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

Thoughts: There’s a lot of character analysis and it takes a step away from the casual banter they’re always portrayed to have and focuses on the intricacies of their relationship. The tone is almost a little more melancholy. (also they have to share a bed! trope)

♡when it starts to rain, they go inside

Word count: 33k

Summary: “Where?” starts Iwaizumi.“My parent’s old lakehouse, silly, didn’t you hear me the first time?”OR: Oikawa takes Iwaizumi to his lakehouse for two weeks, post-graduation.

Thoughts: Oh This Is It IwaOi stans. This fic really solidified my own headcanon for Oikawa (spoiler alert, OP isn’t too fond of Oikawa but she fleshes out his character and his idiosyncrasies so well that you can’t help but be drawn into all of his imperfection) and this fic respects Iwaizumi as well. It has absolutely great characterization and the fic ends on an ambiguous note.

to be first, to be best

Word count: 26k

Summary: Hajime is apparently something of a masochist, and as he stares down at the tie-dyed AREA51 T-shirt in his hands, he thinks “I’m totally in love with this asshole, aren't I?”

Thoughts: College roommates trying to navigate having feelings for each other while also dating others and not realizing that they’re jealous? A cult favorite.

♡things that change, things that stay the same

Word count: 8k

Summary: Oikawa realizes he's in love with his best friend; it sucks for a while. (But only a while.)

Thoughts: Ahh a slow burn featuring daily moments between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, and Oikawa starts to notice the little things. This was a cute read because Oikawa just comes off as wonderfully earnest. My first Iwaoi fic! And a great one because it really set the standard to how I interpreted their relationship.

it’s better than words

Word count: 3k

Summary: [ or : oikawa makes iwaizumi participate in three bonding activities for new friends, and iwaizumi just wants to know why oikawa's being so weird about this]

Thoughts: Soft pining, fluff, banter, and whispered confessions. This fic really nailed the banter of high school students really well.

♡shiver

Word count: 16k

Summary: Oikawa was always the brave one. Hajime just followed two paces behind.

Thoughts: Oikawa falls first and but Iwaizumi realizes his feelings later on! So soft, so slow burn, so much pining. We get to see their relationship through Iwaizumi’s eyes and actually read him analyze his own feelings.

♡we shine like diamonds

Word count: 26k

Summary: "You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

Thoughts: Character analysis, homophobia, and coming of age makes a good and angsty iwaoi fic

terrarium

Word count: 11k

Summary: At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Thoughts: Oikawa has a terrarium and names all of the rocks he puts in (that Iwaizumi gave him) “Iwa-chan #_”

Chasing Paper Suns

Word count: 10k

Summary: Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart.

Thoughts: This was pretty sad tbh. Of what it means to grow up together and then suddenly having to adjust to living without each other’s presence.

with every second that you could give

Word count: 9k

Summary: The journey of Iwaizumi and Oikawa going for gold.

Thoughts: Of growing up together, making decisions for each other, and wanting to be together

Only the jellyfish know

Word count: 6k

Summary: Their third and final year at Aoba Jousai has come to an end, and the guys decide to go to the beach the day after graduation.That day, the ocean water is salty, the watermelon is sweet, and the people are sweeter.

Thoughts: Established relationship

Smut

strange.

Word count: 1k

Summary: "god, i fucking hate you."oikawa smiles, cause he knows it's not true. he knows iwaizumi loves him, knows iwaizumi adores him. but he plays along."i hate you too,"

Thoughts: It’s hot

Say My Name

Word count: 2k

Summary: “Hey, have you ever tried saying my first name?” Iwaizumi blurts, and the thought jumps out of his subconscious only after he's posed the question.

Thoughts:

No Touching Allowed

Word count: 10k

Summary: “You’ve got one rule,” Iwaizumi winks at him.

Thoughts: ExoticDancer!Iwaizumi and stressed out/repressed businessman Oikawa also an AU.

Honorable Mentions

things wikipedia doesn’t tell you

pillow

Phone Home

Share my life, it’s yours to keep

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#iwaoi #oikawa tooru #oikawa #iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq!!#hq fic rec #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #id ask that u guys pls reblog if u can so more people can enjoy :') rly there are some Underrated works #and im surprised bc it looks like iwaoi is the most popular pairing in hq rn with the most fics #and there are iwaoi fics being uploaded like everyday #some of my favs were published in 2020 too

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shanethvarosa · 3 years

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Music Review: 2020

My blog has been a lot of things over the years, but it did originate as something I used to publicly review music; especially in the Visual Kei scene. Since I began the blog so many years ago, I had actually been hired to review Visual Kei and J-Rock music for an actual website: VKH-Press.com, work I am very, very proud of to this day. However, with not much news to comment on or work to critique, I haven’t been as active. Plus, personal issues always seem to stand in my way. However, I always take the time to discuss my passions at the end of the year. There were so many incredible releases, despite the COVID-19 pandemic, and so I wanted to take the time time to discuss my favorite releases and, maybe, the not-so-favorites as well. Quick shout out to Bastille’s Goosebumps EP and Megan Thee Stallion’s Good News LP as I did not get to listen to them before I wrote up my lists, but were still excellent releases. See my thoughts below!

Overall, there were about 75 albums or groupings of albums I listened to this year and split them between various tiers. Starting with the bad tier, there were actually only ten albums listed here and mostly just because they were seemingly unnecessary collection albums. For example, another Satsuki collection? Rides in ReVellion releasing two greatest hits LPs after only five years of work? Beyonce releasing The Lion King: The Gift again? None of those felt like necessary releases. There weren’t many albums that really screamed bad to me this year, but I really could not stand Vanessa Carlton’s “Love is an Art” or Justin Bieber’s “Changes.” The only other albums on this tier were just underwhelming compared to what I know the artist is capable of, but the “best bad tier album,” in my view, was The 1975′s “Notes on a Conditional Form.”

The mid-tier albums had all sorts of reasons for being only mid-tier. They weren’t quite bad or outright unnecessary, but are mostly by artists who put out work that was nowhere near the caliber of their usual work or were re-releases or other collection albums. For example, Tove Lo’s “Sunshine Kitty: Pawprint Edition” or Man With A Mission’s remixes/b-sides/covers albums. Nice to have with good quality music, but I wish we’d just have had brand new EPs or LPs.

The good-tier albums were all really excellent releases, but didn’t hit home the way anything on the “God-Tier” list did. Here, I’d like to share a quick top ten:

10. Taeyeon’s “Purpose: Repackage” & Japanese EP, “#GirlsSpkOut” 9. Charli XCX’s “How I’m Feeling Now” 8. Miyavi’s “Holy Nights” & “Holy Nights: 2020 Lockdown” 7. TK’s “Sainou” 6. PVRIS’s “Use Me” 5. Buck-Tick’s “Abracadabra” 4. Katy Perry’s “Smile” 3. Alicia Keys’ “Alicia” 2. Dua Lipa’s “Future Nostalgia” & “Club Future Nostalgia” 1. Ava Max’s “Heaven & Hell

Without furhter ado, though, the God Tier Top 25:

25. Acme’s We Are Visual Kei: Essentially a collection album of several songs that were b-sides that never made a full-blown album. This LP was loaded with some of Acme’s best work and shows that they are going to be here for a long time, despite Div not quite working out. Recommended tracks: Mononoke Requiem, Gekiyama Celluloid, Houkago no Shiiku

24. Alanis Morisette’s Such Pretty Forks in the Road: Admittedly, a huge fan in the 90′s and loved her cover of Seal’s Crazy. However, before this album I didn’t really listen to much of her body of work and I can see why today’s youth might not listen to this album. It is very “adult” insofar as it deals with her struggles in marriage, parenting, religion, etc. Her vocal performance is exceptional and her song writing remains some of the best in the business. Recommended tracks: Smiling, Nemesis, Reasons I Drink.

23. Niall Horan’s Heartbreak Weather: Not my usual cup of tea, but for some reason Niall’s music makes me feel softer than normal. He’s very cute and charming and his words are always so romantic. It feels more genuine than the music made by other members of One Direction and kind-of reminds me of earlier Taylor Swift writing, but from a male perspective. Recommended Tracks: Put A Little Love On Me, Arms of a Stranger, Still.

22. K/DA’s All Out: I don’t even really understand what this is, but I love it. There’s something to do with League of Legends? Cartoons? International pop stars? Whatever it is, I’m totally obsessed. These songs just completely slap. Recommended Tracks: The Baddest, More, Drum Go Dum.

21. Darrell’s Brilliant Death: This might even “officially” be a single, but there’s enough content to market it as an album. Darrell is a band formed from the ashes of Deathgaze and Ai’s solo project. Who knows why Ai didn’t just continue after his solo album, Confusion, but he decided to go back to the band-format with confusingly-named Darrell. This album is then, incidentally, mostly Deathgaze covers. It brings the production into the new era and gives you a lot of nostalgic love for old hits. Recommended Tracks: Brilliant Death, Evoke the World, Abyss.

20. Alice Nine’s Fuyajou Eden & Kuro to Wonderland: Neither album was particularly long, in fact these were glorified EPs that could’ve been merged to one two-sided LP, but in either case... Both albums had something really special to offer and felt like a true comeback after years of name changes and finally going back to their original, kanji-styled name. Recommended Tracks: Kakumei Kaika -Revolutionary Blooming-, Testament, Replica, Glow.

19. Mucc’s Aku: This album felt very long in the making after a series of weird singles that didn’t feel like they were going anywhere. Ultimately, a lot of those singles did not make the album including my favorite one: Taboo. The resulting album, though, did feel very cohesive and thematic and even featured one of this year’s heavy hitters: Hazuki. Recommended Tracks: Aku -Justice-, Memai, Ameria.

18. Miley Cyrus’s Plastic Hearts: This person is absolutely one of my favorite people in music. I’m pretty sure they have comeout as genderfluid/non-binary, so I want to stick with safe pronouns, just in case. However, they’ve always been a favorite and as they’ve come out as such a champion for the LGBT, I love them even more. The album though gave me a lot of hype for something very 80′s rock, but didn’t quite give me what I expected. All in all, the music was fantastic, just a little off-beat from expectations. Recommended Tracks: Gimme What I Want, Angels Like You, WTF Do I Know.

17. Rina Sawayama’s Sawayama: I didn’t expect to fall in love with this girl the way I did. My boyfriend recommended “STFU” to me as kind of a joke because the song discusses a lot of Asian racism that I’m always criticizing people in my life for falling into, but then the song was so bad ass I checked out the album. There were so many different types of music on it and she really did a good job with all of them. Then, with the deluxe edition coming out and the hardcore club banger “Lucid” being involved... Just really brought it all home. Recommended Tracks: Tokyo Love Hotel, Lucid, Fuck This World.

16. Amber Liu’s X: This was just an EP, but every song on it was great. Amber Liu was from f(x), a K-Pop Icon Group, but she always seemed like the odd one out. She was such a tomboy, so silly and funny all the time, and didn’t really behave like other Korean idols. I mean, really, she isn’t actually even Korean. I believe she’s Chinese American. In either case, the EP really noted some of her own personal strugles in the business and also remaining pretty fun at parts too. I saw her live in Philly before COVID-19 and she was truly excellent. Recommended Tracks: Numb, Stay Calm, Other People.

15. Blackpink’s The Album: Not much of an album at only 8 tracks, but that’s K-Pop for you. I bet next year I’ll be putting “Blackpink’s The Album: Repackage” on my top 25 list. The quality of the music was pretty dope though, all things considered. It was a very solid debut effort with all of their previous songs being somewhere in the same lane as this one. I still kind of believe they are a reminder of what 2NE1 could have been, but they’re doing well enough on their own. Recommended Tracks: Ice Cream, Lovesick Girls, Pretty Savage.

14. Hazuki’s Year Over All: Kind of a weird way to word it, but Hazuki basically released two albums this year in different formats. His work with his band, Lynch., was pretty magnificent. I’m not one to usually dwell on a Lynch. album. Their singles or featured tracks are what I usually get into, but the actual album (Ultima) really did a good job of showing how versatile Hazuki can be. His solo album, Souen -Funeral-, was an entirely stripped down, gothic orchestral album of Lynch. covers and other J-Hard Rock artists. Hearing it done like this was almost transcendental. Recommended Tracks: Xero, Idol, Ray, D.A.R.K.

13. Sam Smith’s Love Goes: They had me scared that their album wasn’t coming this year once they pushed it back, back in May. Then again, at the time, an album called “To Die For” was probably super tone deaf. In any case, literally every single released for this album had me in love. So, when they all got included in the final version, I was thrilled. Sam gave us a bonus song after the album as well, but I can see why that one didn’t get on. In any case, this is a huge step up from “The Thrill of it All,” which I didn’t really care for. Recommended Tracks: Another One, Dance (’Til You Love Someone Else), Forgive Myself.

12. Troye Sivan’s In A Dream: I love this kid. He’s so gay and so not shy about it and it really makes me smile. The EP comes after his last LP, Bloom, where the title track basically talks about bottoming for the first time and this new EP deals with a few other queer issues over weirdly produced beats that just... make sense. Recommended tracks: Stud, In A Dream, Easy.

11. Matenrou Opera’s Chronos: Unfortunately, this band just lost their guitarist again. Their original, Anzi, was basically the most consummate guitarist in the visual kei scene that wasn’t Hizaki and he left them. Their sound wasn’t quite right since and they seemed to just get it back with Chronos when Jay left them. I guess we’ll see what they do next, but I think Chronos could be their last great release. Recommended Tracks: Chronos, Silence, Reminiscence.

10. BoA’s Better: A very recent release that hasn’t had much time for me to digest. This is strange for me to put it so high on my list for that reason, but BoA is one of my all time favorites. She never disappoints me. This album was no different. It wasn’t exactly up to par with “Woman” or “Watashi Kono Mama de Ii no Kana,” but it definitely gave us some new and very iconic Queen BoA bangers. Recommended Tracks: Cut Me Off, Start Over, Temptations.

9. Kesha’s High Road: A semi-step down from Rainbow, only because a lot of the same melodic elements and, sometimes, even beats were used on this album too. However, her vocal performance was outstanding and she even gave us a new dirty-pop song with some interesting indie-pop tracks to go with it. Plus, who doesn’t love a Big Freedia feature? Recommended Tracks: Resentment, Raising Hell, Tonight.

8. Lady Gaga’s Chromatica: Anyone who knows me knows I don’t really love Gaga anymore. After all the drama with Madonna and her experimentation with “Joanne” I didn’t think I’d ever like her music again. However, she definitely won back big points for me on Chromatica. It was finally fun, weird, dancey, and then simultaneously emotional and I was really able to get back into it. She’s always had the voice, but on this one it also showed us that she still has what made us love her. Recommended Tracks: Rain On Me, Plastic Doll, Enigma.

7. Koda Kumi’s My Name Is... Angel + Monster: She is, very likely, my Japanese Pop Queen. She always makes these absolutely outlandish bangers of dance tracks that have such a great attitude and beat and when she released re(CORD)... last year? 2018? Who can remember... I thought she could never outdo herself. Then she released “Lucky Star” and I was floored. I was a bit disappointed when they were only to promote a “My Name Is...” collection album, but then, to my surprise, a full set of new tracks came out just after that just blew me entirely away. Guess the last 6 albums must be pretty great, huh? Recommended tracks: Killer Monster, Work It!, Alarm.

6. Grimes’ Miss Anthropocene: I’ve never been a big fan of Grimes, but when Violence came out I was really looking forward to whatever album this was going to end up promoting. The song is actual fire, but then the LP ended up being some kind of experimental Gothic Pop with Asian Pop influences I never expected. I doubt I’ll ever find something she does this good ever again, but it was really a musical light in the darkness of this year. Recommended tracks: Darkseid, Delete Forever, Violence.

5. Kylie Minogue’s Disco: Admittedly, my draw to Kylie has always been that she is like some kind of Australian Madonna. Madonna being one of my all time favorite artists... In fact, number 2 for all women I listen to, Kylie has some big shoes to fill with her sometimes generic pop that she puts out. However, I haven’t really truly loved a Kylie song since “Get Outta My Way” and then this album comes out filled with tracks to love for the rest of time. Recommended Tracks: Miss A Thing, Till You Love Somebody, Magic.

4. Chanmina’s Notebook/Angel: I don’t have really any way of knowing how popular Chanmina is in Japan or if she is as popular in the Japanese Queer Scene as she should be, but god damn does she know what she’s doing. Her music is raunchy, bitchy, and condescending at it’s highest and deeply personal at it’s most mellow. There is no “lowest.” “Notebook” was a two-sided album and “Angel” a strong follow up EP, but all the recommended tracks are from “Notebook.” If you have not listened to “Picky”.... go do it now, I’ll wait. Recommended tracks: Picky, Baby, Lucy.

3. The Weeknd’s After Hours: Incidentally, I got into The Weeknd after someone said something shitty about him here on Tumblr! I took their likely-valid criticism and went to check him out for myself and I gotta say, I love his work. The beats are literally always on point and his voice is like silk. This album provided more than a few iconic songs and I always can’t wait to see what he does next. Recommended Tracks: Alone Again, Heartless, Blinding Lights.

2. Halsey’s Manic: The singles and features she did between Hopeless Fountain Kingdom and Manic gave me such insanely high hopes and I was not disappointed. HFK was a strong album of course, but this was near perfection for me. I think the production of this alt-pop album was the star of the show because it wasn’t all one way, there were heavy-bass songs, interesting piano riffs, striaght up punk rock, all of it. She really made an album quite like it’s namesake. Recommended Tracks: Ashley, Killing Boys, Still Learning.

1. Dexcore’s Metempsychosis: A newcomer to the visual kei and death metal scene, they’ve been putting out single after single for years in preparation for their extemeley long and multidaceted debut album. With a total of about 33 songs, the entire second disc was rerecorded singles from their early days and some even got new lyrical treatment. The main series of songs were, of course, also totally flooring and all of the recommended tracks are the new ones. If you haven’t checked them out by now, you have to! Recommended tracks: Cibus, Scribble, Period.

#personal #music #2020 #visual kei #k-pop #dexcore #halsey #the weeknd #chanmina #kylie minogue #grimes #koda kumi #lady gaga #kesha #BoA

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 4 years

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Lover is the Queliot Soundtrack!!

this is 100% true and i have hyena yelled about it at length before and continue to think about it really a bizarre amount... i had a lot of weird feelings about lover when it came out ANYWAY because i have a lot of weird feelings about taylor swift which i like to attribute to the fact that we are astrological mirror twins of a kind (cap sun sag stellium vs. sag sun cap stellium) because honestly i am truly powerless to explain through logic why it is that i think about her so often and in such depth given that my reaction to most of her work is pretty muted in either direction. but like, the thing between me and being really into her as a musician had always been this overall hollowness i felt in her writing, like she has from the beginning definitely had her consistent strengths and her moments of total brilliance, but so much of her lyrical material feels like it was made by a martian whose exposure to humanity was watching a bunch of CW dramas, or whatever (which itself also isn’t necessarily like awful but i always bristled more about it because people tended to praise her specifically for her eye for detail and her emotional insight and i was like ??? that’s the part you like? but where... is it?) (this is all also happening in a context where i encounter her first at age 19 so i’m old enough to think teenagers are children but too young to understand that i’m only very barely not a child and way too young to empathize forgivingly with my teenage self much less take that healing and use it to fuel an expansion of empathy for others and a general diminishment of kneejerk reactivity, also my journey of taylor swift opinions is inextricable from the internet contexts of feminist blogging/tumblr pop talk, and the evolving conversations there and my own shifting ideas about them, i hung around in for a long time... anyway.) (CAP SUN SAG STELLIUM VS. SAG SUN CAP STELLIUM I AM DOOMED TO DISPROPORTIONATE FASCINATION)

the thing she tuned into earliest, the subject matter on which she found her voice first, was heartbreak, right, and it never bothered me the way it did some that to public appearances she’d never had a relationship longer than 3 months; you can get your heart broken in 3 months. artists in general tend to be people who experience feelings strongly, i think less because you need to feel things strongly to make art (which i’m not sure is true) than the other way around: people who experience feelings strongly need to find a way to deal with that, and art, making or experiencing it, is one of the more socially acceptable and productive coping mechanisms around. a certain inner grandiosity can be useful for artists, which is why melodrama is a perfect album. (melodrama manages this very neat balancing act of being wry and self-aware enough to let you know it’s on purpose but also being full-throatedly committed to the affective grandeur of being 19 and on fire; i mention that mostly because another shade of my doomed fixation with taylor swift is she’s a proxy for my issues around sincerity & jadedness & shame &, yeah, where the hell into all of that art fits.) i think this is probably especially true for artists working in a form like music, like pop music, that succeeds viscerally or not at all, that can include an intellectual dimension but can’t rest solely on matters of thought, can be analyzed but not wholly appreciated primarily through the analytical mind. music like emotions is a bodily experience and you can’t instruct your body into what may appear a more proportionate response, so there’s relief in watching someone else skywrite commonplace heartbreaks as big as they always feel inside us. megaphone to my chest: broadcast the boom, boom, boom.

it was her descriptions of love that left me colder, and as her career went on there was something to—i don’t really want to get into the question around her celebrity self and a narrative of victimhood, except i think it’s more complicated than people on either side of the issue tend to acknowledge, but it was a difficult narrative to escape, and it did intertwine for me in noticing in her work a certain... i don’t even know what to call it. “lack of introspection” comes to mind, but obviously taylor swift is no stranger to her own thoughts; the way people talked about it tended to hinge on this idea that she never took responsibility in her music, that it’s alway someone else’s fault, which, see above re: it’s complicated. i don’t think that narrative about her music would have taken hold without the narrative about her public persona, and it’s a weird thing where i see resonance in that critique with the thing i’m trying to name but also think that on its own it doesn’t mean much. there are plenty of great break-up songs that take no responsibility. part of the joy for me of pop (used in one of the broader senses) is precisely that because songs exists as 3.5 minute bursts of sensation it’s a realm particularly suited to indulging pleasurably in the less evolved areas of our psyche. the role of the artist is not to meticulous address across their body of work every emotion a human being can have. it’s never bob dylan’s fault either but who wants to hear that song?

i keep talking about the narrative around her persona and again: complicated. i’m not going to detail the factors, because it’s not 2015. but it’s not like at times she didn’t lean in, right? i mean she can be so annoying. and i think what i was reacting to was not so much her insistence on positioning herself as a victim (i mean, after the initial shock i kind of fell in love with look what you made me do, not despite but because of the fact that it’s so dumb and nasty) but simply that the repeated act of self-positioning over time near inevitably invites a certain calcification. there’s a line between shaping your memories into narrative to make use of the meaning you can find there, and attaching to the story of yourself so strongly that you lose sight of your actual self, which is unfixed and fluid and ever-changing. it’s possible to begin scrambling subconsciously to match your self to your story, rather than the other way around. and a public self, a self which exists in lopsided unrelationship with people you will never meet, exacerbates this tendency for all but the most secure in their true identity. there’s spiritual danger in becoming a brand. there were a lot of reasons i deleted my not even very popular personal blog but one of them was this: i had started to worry that i might be ready to outgrow the self i had built there and not be able to see or actualize it. years ago i read a book about the ancient celts and the only thing i remember was the suggestion that the religion of the druids retained a degree of spiritual potency and mysticism lost to the ancient greeks because the druids didn’t write anything down. i don’t know if that’s true but it stuck with me.

anyway. when reputation came out i called new year’s day the first song she’d ever written as an adult specifically because of how it located the self in the verb of loving—don’t read the last page, but i stay—which felt to me like the first true thing she’d said about love. and then after hammering us with the one-two punch of the two most heinous songs of her career, because whatever else taylor swift she also is a dummy with terrible taste, it turned out that lover was after all an album that mostly lived there too. it was an album where she did cop to bad behavior, no winking or cuteness, and more than that where she named regrets in a way that had weight; i still kind of can’t believe taylor swift came out with something as real as “i never grew up / it’s getting so old.” and it was also the album where she first sounded convincingly besotted, uncomplicatedly joyful; the album where she finally learned years after crossing over how to write a pop song that was actually fun. there was an ease to it, a refreshing and novel sense of not having anything to prove. and it just really fucked me up listening to it and thinking inescapably that these might be linked: that it really seemed like what happened, partly, was taylor swift fell in actual love and it let her give up on some of the frantic posturing that was choking her art. that something really good happened and it made space in her head and therefore in her songs for the beauty and the ache, the ugliness and the joy. i recognize that this has long since passed unhinged territory regarding speculation onto the spiritual journey of a famous stranger. i really don’t get like this about anyone else, including any of the many artists i like a lot more. blame it on the stars.

anyway, so that’s all a dementedly long way of saying that even beyond which the fact that nearly every track on this 18-track behemoth is undeniably Queliot Content, i have these preexisting bizarre and unreasonable feelings about the like meta-statement of lover as an album in taylor swift’s body of work, what it means not just as a collection of songs but as this album coming from this artist, which........... are also, now, Queliot Content???? because that’s all the quentin/eliot thing, right: these are two people who are very, very afraid of their own darkness. they latch onto these narratives of self partly to try to escape the parts of themselves they don’t want to look at. and it’s not even that those narratives are totally wrong: quentin really is brave and loyal and caring and all that hero stuff; eliot really is funny and sharp and fond of the finer things in life. (there’s nothing about lover that is not deeply, absolutely a taylor swift album.) but they’re incomplete. they’re archetypes. they don’t have room for the fullness of their hearts and their lives, the bad stuff and the good. they’re so afraid of their flaws and their pain that they can’t see their strengths or feel their joys. quentin in season 1 can’t see that really and truly alice doesn’t give a shit that he’s not as good a magician as she is, and that will only ever be an issue as long as he makes it one. eliot can’t see the depths of his own enormous heart, or trust margo’s love enough to follow up on her emotion-bottles plea to save their friendship. and this sucks for them, and also for the people around them! they do a lot of bad things in their attempts to protect themselves.

and the very lovely thing the show unbelievably seems to have well and truly done by accident and had no interest in exploring but which remains nonetheless delightful to consider rly is this exact idea of, like: together they find something good and it doesn’t fix anything but it makes space for everything. bleep blorp, beauty of all life. the bad and the good. they find something good and it helps them be brave. it helps them let go of who they’re “supposed” to be, not to reject every piece of it out of hand but to pick and choose: what here serves me still? what reflects who i am today? pruning away the defenses you just don’t need anymore. i used to think “i forgot that you existed” felt like a rep-overgrowth taylor mistakenly thought she needed, over-narrativized context-setting for an album that really stood on its own, and, i mean, it is that, a little bit. she’s still taylor; her version of chilling out is still most people’s frighteningly intense. but i like how weightless it is, how sonically it recaptures the kind of quiet elation of that feeling. how “i thought that it would kill me, but it didn’t” is about the strange distance of that past self so convinced she could never let go, which is to say it’s also about healing. about recognizing your own enough-ness so that you can see what it is you really need. quentin and eliot are both constantly asking this question: what is the thing that is going to fill up the space inside of me where i should have something else? is it school, magic, clothes, wine, a girl, a boy, a crown, a quest? and the answer is—it’s not “each other.” the answer is nothing. but their kind of open-hearted love is the thing they need to see that’s true.

#well this got... predictably unhinged #i was talking to someone about nostalgia for 2013 tumblr so this caught me in like #a particular mental place i guess #also it's feed your dad to cannibals day in the middle of quarantine #no apologies for content in either of those circumstances!!!!!#the magicans #kinda

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skeletorific · 4 years

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CLASSPECTING TIME

You have no idea how fucking long this took. Also I’m willing to like hear ideas about this but as these are my personal headcanons don’t be like….weird about it ahfdksafd classes are FAKE AF and we are all just guessing bitches out here.

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Ardata Carmia: Maid of Doom. A Maid is typically understood as “one who creates [aspect]/creates though [aspect]” for the benefit of others. The Doom aspect represents death, suffering, misery and destruction, something Ardata quite literally serves up on a silver platter for her subscribers. She creates (relatively) low stakes of misery for her subscribers to watch and enjoy, as well as to feed her lusus’ hunger for blood. Despite the apparent selfish motivations, its clear that Ardata doesn’t really enjoy what she does. At least, not for its own sake. Its a means to fulfill the role she believes society demands of her, even if filling it makes her actively miserable and very, very lonely.

Diemen Xicasi: Page of Hope. A page is typically understood as one who “provides [aspect]/provides through [aspect]” for themselves. While his meal of choice may be some savory meat products, Diemen’s real bread and butter is his unwavering optimism. Not to say he’s always looking on the bright side, merely that he allows the miserable realities of being a homeless rustblood on Alternia to wash off his back. Like other pages that have proceeded him (Tavros Nitram and Jake English), Diemen has been noted to have an effect on people that makes them want to help him, without any apparent psiionic tricks to force it out of them. Furthermore, when he really wishes for something (and its usually hot dogs), well, things have a way of working out in his favor, no matter the twists and turns it takes to get there.

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Amisia Erdehn: Heir of Mind. I’m gonna be honest, Amisia was tricky. Mind doesn’t on first glance seem like a natural fit for her. However, while there’s a variety of definitions for what an Heir does, I prefer the description of the Heir as someone who strives (or succeeds) to wholly embody their aspect. As such, Amisia is the pure embodiment of both Mind’s decisive problem solving and single-minded logical framework. Need paints? Well, blood is multicolored. Actual creation is difficult, yes, but when it comes to getting the right materials, well, there’s no one more driven and no one less deterred by mere sentiment. This isn’t to say she’s emotionless, merely that emotions are often an obstruction to her true potential, rather than an aid.

Cirava Hermod: Prince of Hope. Awful dark class for such a chill motherfucker, but like most things about Cirava, it makes far, far more sense in context. Hope is about convictions, about right and wrong, about doing what your internal code compels you towards. And, there was a time when Cirava felt like this. They would constantly get into fights on Chittr with highbloods, despite knowing it was risky, because they felt it was wrong to take credit for their work. However, the Prince is ultimately one who bring about destruction through/destruction of their aspect. Cirava certainly brings about destruction in a physical sense: they destroy their eye in order to prevent injustice. Likewise, they take the time to try and destroy their own connections to the hopeful aspect, attempting to kill off their morals and content themselves with keeping their head down and quietly streaming.

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Skylla Koriga: Knight of Time. While Time is perhaps the aspect most bound up in the mechanics of Sburb/Sgrub, its ultimately defined by a determination to triumph despite the odds. In Skylla’s case, like Dave Strider, that desire is tempered by a sense that what she does should be for the sake of others. Skylla is one of the most selfless trolls we encounter, expressing generosity and kindness to a stranger even at her own personal costs and even expressing confusion when others (like Konyyl) are not so kind. Skylla, while she may slip into despair when the situation is pulled beyond her control, ultimately refuses to take anything lying down that she can fight against.

Bronya Ursama: Sylph of Breath. The typical verb applied to a Sylph is “one who heals through/heals their aspect” for the sake of others. In general, I prefer the verb “restores”, as it has a broader application. However, in Bronya’s case, that healing is for the most part literal. Breath is the aspect of freedom and individuality, which seems an odd choice for the rules-oriented Bronya. However, by looking at the people in her life it begins to snap into greater clarity. Bronya may restrain herself, but her presence provides freedom to so many characters: she gives the reject wrigglers a chance at new life even when the culling system would condemn them to death. The other jades are allowed the freedom to explore themselves and the world around them because, on some level, they know Bronya will protect them from consequences as much as she can. Bronya does not serve freedom or necessarily provide it wholecloth, but she restores it to others who would have it taken from them otherwise.

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Tagora Gorjek: Thief of Space. Space is hard. Like time, its an aspect very bound up in the mechanics of Sburb. How Kanaya describes it, as concerned with propagation, didn’t seem to have much to do with a guy who doesn’t seem concerned with much more than the propagation of his own wealth. This is part of why Thief felt natural for Tagora: “one who steals/steals through their aspect” for themselves. However, as we’ve seen from Meenah and Vriska, while the motives of a Thief may often be selfish, it doesn’t mean that they are necessarily harmful to the party. The Thief will take the most direct path to getting what they want, but if what they want is the good of the party, then they make powerful allies. Space heroes, like Tagora, are creative and very aware of the way they go through the world. Tagora is environmentally aware, which is part of what makes him an effective legislacerator (and an effective con artist).

Vikare Ratite: Mage of Mind. The Mage, like the Seer, is bound up in knowledge about their aspect. However, they are often cursed by either an excess of or severe shortage of their aspect. Vikare, arguably, suffers from both an excess AND a shortage of Mind. On the one hand, atmospheric flight a logical first step before interstellar flight, and the fact that Alternia didn’t take that step is in fact, pretty fucking wild if you consider it. Vikare suffers by being (apparently) the only one aware of this level of absurdity. However, in other respects, Vikare is cursed by a lack of Mind when it comes to decisive action. Rather than actively pursuing his desires, he hides them behind an apparent embrace of his true role, and eventually has to have flight “forced” on him for him to truly enjoy it.

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Polypa Goezee: Rogue of Breath. Polypa here can be seen to be stealing her aspect in two regards. One, she is literally stealing “breath”, or life (not to be confused with Life GODS ASPECTS ARE HARD) from her targets. Two, she is in some sense stealing their movement and independence, in particular from highbloods, who are not used to the fear of death impeding their choices in the way it impedes the lowblood. However, unlike the Thief, Polypa steals for the sake of others, whether it be working as a hired killer, getting vengeance for her lost lusus, or protecting her friends from the uncomfortable truths that would force them to act against their true wishes (as with Tegiri).

Zebruh Codakk: Heir of Doom. One who invites misery and despair wherever they go. Definitely sounds like how it feels when Zebruh walks in a room. Jokes aside, Zebruh is drawn to situations of misery and destruction (e.g., his attraction towards lowbloods) out of some latent sense that he can exploit it. If the Heir is someone who reaps the benefits of their aspect, then Zebruh certainly fits the bill. Likewise, the world is affected when the Heir is finally allowed to “Become” their aspect. Easily one of the endings most literal about it being a “doomed” timeline is Marvus’ bad ending; notably, its also the only ending where Zebruh dies. When Zebruh finally fulfills the promise of doom, the entire timeline goes down with him. That is very possibly some powerful godtier commentary.

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Elwurd: Witch of Hope. One who changes their aspect/changes through their aspect. Elwurd doesn’t believe in shit if she doesn’t want to, and if she wants to believe something then damn it if she won’t make it true. She commits herself consistently to relationships that she knows are a bad idea under the presumption that she can change them. You can’t ever properly convince her that she’s not hung up on her relationship with Bronya. In the end, the only one who can change Elwurd is Elwurd.

Kuprum Maxlol: Knight of Hope. optimistic Duelist has a good video already on the topic and while I disagree with their classpecting for Folkyl ultimately I don’t really feel the need to add much onto it. Suffice to say, Kuprum defies fate for another person. Rather than let voidrot run its course, Kuprum volunteers himself as a battery for his moirail. While its perhaps a short sighted plan, its one that stems wholly from Kuprum’s belief in his ability to make a difference, if not for society at large, at least for one person.

Folykl Darane: Seer of Void. One who is wholly in sync with their aspect, in full understanding of it. Folykl is entirely aligned with the nothingness and emptiness associated with Void, being quite literally denied vision, power, and even the ability to ambulate on her own. Likewise, though, she has a clarity of vision in the metaphorical sense. She accurately assesses both Kuprum’s feelings towards Trizza and Trizza’s worthiness of those feelings, emblematic of Void’s disdain for a comfortable lie. However, true to the passive nature of her class, while she often chastises Kuprum for his feelings she isn’t ultimately willing to do more than bicker about it.

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Remele Namaaq: Page of Space. Initially I thought we might end up with two Thieves of Space, but what important to note is that whle Remele does steal artwork, theft isn’t necessarily her true nature. At her core, she’s an artist that has been forced to become cynical because of the society she lives in. Sburb roles aren’t just meant to embody you. Often they’re meant to challenge you. As such, her more derivative works can be seen less as the final fulfillment of her role and more the beta stage of her coming into her aspect. While it may not show in her artwork yet, Remele demonstrates a great potential for on the spot creative thinking that could potentially be bolstered into a powerful force in its own right. Likewise, like Diemen she demonstrates the Page’s intuitive ability to get people to aid her in her quest, regardless of whether or not its in their own best interests

Konyyl Okimaw: Prince of Light (because gendered classes are FAKE NEWS). One who destroys/destroys through their aspect. Light is associated with both fortune and knowledge, and Konyyl can be seen destroying (and destroying through) both. Her matesprit, Azdaja, is the Mind aspect: he supplies knowledge to Konyyl, who in turn uses that knowledge to destroy the lives of others. Likewise, she’s heavily resistant to doing the thinking for herself, seeming to intuitively sense its not her role. She’s also a bit on the unlucky side (I mean, what are the odds of an adult troll being there at that exact drop off point) but can destroy the luck of others. By killing them. Worst luck ever. Also she’d look cute in the puffy pants don’t tell me otherwise.

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Tyzias Entykk: Page of Blood (damn there’s a lot of pages in here its almost like most of these characters have yet to come to their true potential or something). While its not always the case (Jake English being a notable exception, to my mind), Pages may often start the game with a deficit of their aspect. Tyzias has a deficit of friendships. She mentions she doesn’t have time for any quadrant but her matesprit, who is arguably the only troll on Alternia more overworked than she is. Beyond that, her social circle is restricted to people she meets in class. Despite this, Tyzias has a unique capacity to reach out to other people, which, once tapped into her, makes her a force to reckon with, especially so far as the empire is concerned.

Chixie Roixmr: Witch of Mind. GODS Chixie was so hard. However, what ultimately unlocked it for me was the rap battle. A witch is one who manipulates/manipulates through their aspect. Chixie, for as sweet as she is, is a pretty effective manipulator. She keeps Zebruh on the hook without getting forced into a quadrant with him, she manages to sway the crowd into her favor (despite the fact that no one in their right mind should be siding with a bronzeblood in a highblood owned club), she even manages to get the Reader to act in her favor on certain occasions. She does this through clear, decisive action, and through careful combinations of absorbed information, all of which come to a head in the rap battle. Despite potentially risking everything she’s worked to build, she forces herself onto that stage and, under pressure, synthesizes everything she knows about the band from social media and her own encounters with them into some pretty sick lyrics.

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Azdaja Knelax: Thief of Mind. Azdaja, as previously mentioned, is the information half of Konyyl’s duo. Utilizing powerful psiionics, a quick grasp of strategy, and a willingness to do whatever it takes (all of which can be understood as part of the Mind aspect), Azdaja manipulates scenarios into ones that will directly benefit him. Often, he quite garners literal monetary gain, but equally as powerful for him is the added notoriety his actions gain him.

Chahut Maenad: Knight of Hope. No title more fitting for a defender of the faith. Chahut has strong convictions that run to the core of her being, something vital to a Hope player. However, while her convictions may render her single minded, they do not necessarily render her selfless. When the player does not antagonize her morals Chahut seems happy to benefit them (although most players would probably not view being a sacrifice as a benefit). She is happy to learn at the feet of people who have earned her respect, and defend those like Amisia who she considers worth protecting, all of which render her an apt candidate for the Knight category.

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Zebede Tongva: Heir of Light. One who embodies their aspect, often perhaps to the point of excess. Zebede is many things, but he is certainly knowledgeable, in particular about his interests. At times, that interest can be cute, but at other times it can lead him towards creepy and possessive behavior. He knows everything about Cirava, to the point that he feels comfortable posting fanfiction about their life. Likewise, he displays frustration and anger when he is not allowed knowledge (or, in a meta sense, is denied union with his aspect), as in hs bad end when the Reader implies they are talking to other people while at Zebede’s house. Zebede, though his method of expression isn’t the healthiest, at his purest form is really just curious about the lives of the people he watches, and allows that curiosity to overcome him.

Tegiri Kalbur: Rogue of Void. If Tegiri embodies anything to me, its how much the temperament of a person affects their expression of their classpect. On first glance he and Roxy Lalonde have nothing in common. However, like Roxy, Tegiri has the ability to “steal” nothingness by replacing it with something else. He replaces it with order, imposing laws whether otherwise no sane troll would think to enforce them. By doing so, he’s not only stealing away the chaos associated with the Void, but also the sense of meaninglessness he might otherwise succumb to if he ceased to believe in Alternian law (much like a few other teals I could mention). Also like Roxy, Tegiri seems troubled by the sense that he may be irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, and becomes determined to impress his status as a hero of the blade upon us as quickly as possible.

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Mallek Adalov: Witch of Time. Ok this one’s a little weird, but hear me out: a Witch, inherently, is about a refusal to accept your aspect as it is. Mallek demonstrates an understanding of the lacking nature of Time. With his Rites of Maturation perigrees away, he has a hard time coming to terms with how little time he has to do everything he wants to do. This might imply a Mage or a Seer, but what strikes me is not that Mallek wants to understand time, but that he is frustrated with his inability to do anything about it. We aren’t really told what he does after his conversation with the reader, but it can perhaps be assumed that, inspired by their words, he is doing what he has to to give himself the time he needed. Were an sgrub session to take place, he would be given the literal chance to do just that.

Lynera Skalbi: Maid of Rage. Again, whipping through an unusual class combo. The Maid is one who creates their aspect, for the benefit of others. Rage is not just about anger (although Lynera certainly has that in spades), but about convictions and truth. Lynera creates her truth and beliefs, and makes them in alignment to the people that matter to her. When she understands that keeping under the radar of Alternian society is important to Bronya, she becomes the bad cop needed to enforce those convictions. When she understands her making other friends is important to the Reader (and to Bronya), she immediately latches onto them as her nearest and dearest friendship. Ultimately we never see Lynera at a healthy place with her aspect, but she’s a dedicated soldier, ready to evangelize (or, create convictions) on behalf of the people in her life to matter to her.

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Galekh Xigisi: Seer of Blood. The Seer is of course, associated with understanding. However, its important that unlike the Mage, one who already understands and suffers from it, the Seer is rather one who invites understanding. They may have a large knowledge base already as regards their aspect (a la Terezi with Mind) but are constantly on the hunt for more to the benefit of their party. Galekh, while he can be pompous and uptight, at his very core wants to understand people, and the people who matter to those he cares about especially. He is one of the few trolls to approach us with the explicit intent of forming a relationship (and deepening an existing one with Tagora). That wordiness and sense of self-righteousness likewise aligns him with our other known Seer of Blood, Kankri Vantas, although Galekh has arguably gotten more of a chance to mature than Kankri got.

Tirona Kasund: Thief of Heart. Tirona seeks to override the convictions, and by extension the “soul”, of others, whether by force or by persuasion. Her memeaganda is one branch of this, ingratiating the Heiress to people in a way that will make them forget the various ways in she has harmed her. Likewise, she goes rooting through the offices of their friends to dig up details about their personal opinions and politics in order to expose them for her own gain. Heart Players really can’t catch a break outside of Boldir huh. Speaking of…

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Boldir Lamati: Muse of Heart. Unusual, I know, but then, she’s an unusual lady. Not much is known about the muse class, given that our only Muse is Calliope. Typically, the verb that I would assign to the Muse is “inspires” or “unifies”, as a contrast to the Lord’s “command” or “dominates”. Boldir’s strong unity of the self would likely explain how she demonstrates an uncanny awareness over the strange time activities. She is, arguably, on the verge of becoming her ultimate self. Likewise, simply by being around her the reader becomes deeply aware of their alternate selves. However, unlikely Dirk’s existential dread in the face of his splinters, Boldir inspires that peace and independence unique to the Muse class which allows her to transcend the division of self so often toxic to Heart Players.

Stelsa Sezyat: Knight of Blood. Together with Galekh, they’re two halves of a whole Signless kin. Knights defend their aspect and defend through their aspect. In the case of relationships, Stelsa does both. She is a loyal and caring friend, always on call for both the Reader and her matesprit Tyzias even when she disagrees with their actions. Likewise, Stelsa’s strongest asset, in addition to her boundless energy and organizational talent, is her capacity for networking. More so than perhaps any other troll, Stelsa understands that the key to victory sometimes isn’t what you can do, but who you know. In the event she goes godtier, though, the first thing she’s doing is ditching the hood. Not subjecting her hair to that, no sir.

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Marsti Houtek: Heir of Void (side note, Inherit Nothing by phemieC may have been written for Equius but it is a jam and a half and kind of snaps this class into greater perspective for me). Like every troll on Alternia, Marsti has been forced most of her life to confront her limited options under the hemocaste system. True to her nature as a Void player, she seemed to have accepted her apparent irrelevance in the grand scheme of thing. As an heir, she embodies not only this irrelevance, but the enigma around it. We’re never truly given an insight into how Marsti actually would want her life to go. She seems resistant to any attempts to force her into some kind of emotional arc. Rather, she frames her actions in terms of simple “this is what I do” statements. Marsti is content with her own nothingness, and is frustrated by people who cannot accept that about her.

Karako Pierot: I uh…..really like the Lord of Mind theory. There are a lot of mind players in Hiveswap, but Karako, to me, embodies the karma aspect of Mind more clearly than any that proceed him. He either gets justice against his attackers, or, should he be killed, the reader feels compelled to enact that justice on others. Karako at once breaks the rules of his aspect (his illogical speaking patterns, his afterlife return to the Dark Carnival, the embodiment of whimsy and mystery) while commanding it through his will and the forces surrounding him.

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Charun Krojib: Sylph of Rage. If Lynera embodies the part of Rage that deals with convictions, then Charun embodies the more anarchic, confusing parts of the Aspect. However, they do not seem to use it for destructive purposes, but deconstructive. Charun meets the player at a point when they are feeling low and burnt out and angry. However subtextually, Doc Scratch’s imposition over their narrative is starting to chafe at them a bit. Charun utilizes that anger and that confusion into a tool for healing via their art. They encourage the Reader to make something. Doesn’t matter what: if it turns out crap that it can just be stripped down and made again. And working with those nebulous guidelines, the Reader is able to process their frustration into art. Art that has no set meaning, but who’s lack of stakes and general confusion bring healing to the reader. Thus, Charun embodies the Sylph’s restorative role.

Wanshi Adyata: Seer of Doom. Seers are often seen as already understanding their aspect in some respect, but the role of Seer is one who is perpetually learning and understanding more about their aspect. Notably, Rose and Terezi are both still having revelations about the nature of their aspects and abilities even as late as Act 6, where most of the other players have broadly figured out their own as far as they need to. Wanshi has demonstrated a proclivity towards knowledge and understanding, being a voracious reader. However, we as the Reader are there with her as she takes her first steps into her aspect. Though no stranger to the suffering of Alternia, we see her experience death in the most direct way she has at that point in her life, and struggle to comprehend it. Depending on how Hiveswap goes, as she grows older she may be forced to reckon with this role, and part of her maturation will be whether she buckles under the negativity of doom, or successfully incorporates it into her worldview, allowing it to inform her without sinking her.

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Fozzer Velyes: Bard of Heart. Man, heartbound derse players just canNOT catch a break….criminal. In any case, the heart has to do with the self, the soul, and the identity. The Bard is not someone who destroys, but someone who invites destruction of (or destruction through) their aspect. Notably, bards often demonstrate avoidant personalities, often refusing to directly confront the things that scare them (as Fozzer with the ghosts), and are prone to talking big game but falling victim to minor hitches in their plans (as the Reader notes contrasting his cowardly reactions with his revolutionary spiel). Fozzer’s self is in fact destroyed over the course of his route, and rewritten by forces beyond his control. Its possible he will continue to enact this role on others. If we’ve seen anything from homestuck, its that bards are the ones to watch out for.

Marvus Xoloto: Seer of Time. Alright, so like I said, I’m like 99% sure we’re do for some kind of twist with Marvus. However, the Caprist sign he’s been previously associated with is timebound, and based on his bad end especially I’d say that’s a good fit. The Seer is the role I chose because Marvus doesn’t really seem to exert any particular control over his aspect, nor does he feel bound to serve it (actively defying it, in fact). Rather, he demonstrates a more in-depth of the machinations of paradox space and “canon” than any character prior, arguably even more than Dirk. Marvus may not successfully wrest control of the narrative, but he provides further insight into the function of doomed timelines, as well as some possible hints as to how paradox space’s pull can be resisted by means other than the retcon juju.

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Daraya Jonjet: Rogue of Hope. Something notable about rogues is that in their immature stages: a lot of them seem to initially covet their opposite aspect. Roxy, Rogue of Void, struggled with a desire for recognition from others (Light). Rufioh, Rogue of Breath, tries desperately to forge relationships that ultimately he isn’t ready to live out (Blood). Likewise, Daraya seems desperate to perform the anarchic and embittered Rage aspect. Her bad ending is her giving herself fully to these bitter teen “burn it all down” impulses. However, that’s not ultimately how she’s happiest. She is at her best when she learns to redistribute Hope to other people. Notably she’s the first person we make legitimate effort to connect with Tyzias’ revolutionary actions. Tyzias is a powerhouse in her own right, true, but she’s one person, and though her Blood aspect gives the the ability to connect to other people, as we’ve seen she’s not the best at rallying the troops (given that her attempts at a pep talk with Daraya fall flat with the Reader not there to help). Daraya, as she grows into her role and partners more with Tyzias, may be able to help with that, stealing the Hope so long denied alternian trolls and giving it back to the people with her rebellious actions. One things for sure: the two are stronger together than they are apart.

Nikhee Moolah: Knight of Rage. She weaponizes anger into her powerful arsenal, but arguably does do it for the benefit of others. In her good ending she strengthens the reader to their utmost, actually reaping muscular benefits as a result. Likewise, her fights are (arguably) a place of catharsis for Alternian trolls and may draw in more outsiders (given the only non-clown purple we have ever seen is….there PLEASE SOMEONE EXPLAIN THIS NOT CLOWN TO ME WHAT’S THEIR STORY). That anger becomes just as powerful a tool turned against the Reader as it is for the Reader, but ultimately Nikhee seems to do what she does for the good of her audience.

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Lanque Bombyx: Thief of Life. Insert mandatory vampire joke here, but its not far off from how Lanque goes about his day to day. Life isn’t just about literally being alive, its also associated with growth, betterment, and positivity. We see Lanque take these things, especially from Lynera. While the amount of growth Lynera really demonstrated is VERY debatable, its hard to argue that Lanque immediately shut down the first attempt at reaching out to someone romantically that Lynera has done for anyone but Bronya, immediately turning it into an opportunity to put the moves on someone else. This may nudge him into the Prince class, but I think its more accurate to assert that Lanque isn’t destroying his aspect, necessarily, as he certainly seems to benefit from it. Instead, he’s simply ensuring that no one else gets it. Lanque is childish in temperament, and may assume that other people are as slow to mature as he is. Likewise he displays the Thief’s attitude that “I should get what I want if I’m smart enough and strong enough to take it” that we see with both Meenah and Vriska. Like both of those characters, he’s not necessarily doomed to evil behavior, merely that its more realistic to hope that he’ll start to see the good of the party as beneficial to him as well, rather than wish he’d just lose his self-interested ways (as Bronya does).

Barzum and Baizli Soleil: the fact that these two embody two different aspects (Breath and Doom respectively) seems to imply that there is at least some difference between the two twins, but whatever it is is hard to riddle out, given that they effectively switch personalities on a whim. As such, its possible to see Breath and Doom as merely two potentials towards which they could drift, either becoming more and more individuated as they embrace their Breath aspect or more and more singular as they embrace Doom. As such, I would probably assign them both the page role, as they are both untapped potential yet to mature enough to really embody anything but chaos.

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