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dabidagoose · 3 years ago

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What's your fave video game sountrack(s)? =^o

Ok that is a very loaded question so this is gonna be a long ass response, I hope you're prepared for what you've done.

(ok there's a tl;dr at the end if you want it sorry for this lmao)

FIRST POINT my immediate thought was the Ikenfell soundtrack (actually my immediate thought is I can't fuckin' choose they're all amazing but. then ikenfell). On the personal side, I was pretty much obsessed with the game for like three months straight, and i fuckin' love aivi and surasshu's music. I am also a simp for chiptune so jot that down. Moving past what may very well just be personal preference there are some incredibly interesting musical choices and impeccable choices story-wise that hit just. SO fuckin hard. Like emotionally. I won't elaborate on to the context and why the song works so well but the final battle theme is absolutely SPECTACULAR. (I could elaborate though so. ask if you will and i'll write another spiel on why it breaks my heart and soul). But also to reference a less-plot relevant piece I'm gonna bring up Alchemy is for Everyone. The squish bass sounds at the beginning are SUCH a fun environmental sound, it is really just NOT a sound I hear often which makes the track really stand out. And it fits SO perfectly for all the slimes and just. It's so WET. I love it. Makes me wanna wriggle. Which ok is probably also personal preference on reflection because my friend hates a wet song that I love but. Ok it's GOOD. Anyways continuing to the melody the fuckin PITCH bends. This is digital music at it's peak. We get the fun sounds. We get the fuckin pitch bends. Which are so fun because having slightly out of tune notes is such a fun feeling. It's a little off kilter, it's a little different. It's just SO funky and sounds so awesome to bend those pitches just a little bit, take full advantage of the medium and play around with it. Now I'm gonna talk a bit about why I love aivi & surasshu's music so much which. Ok so I believe(?) they coined the term "digital fusion" where you're mixing all these fun fresh digital sounds with real instruments/more traditional sounds and it can work SO fuckin well (for extra musical literature on this subject I'd like to suggest Yoann Turpin and specifically Chip Ship). Which we already get a taste of that where the pitch bends are playing on piano but it really kicks in when the violin takes over the melody and it's SUCH a graceful instrument in comparison to all this funky/awkward stuff we've had. The dichotomy is fuckin awesome. The violin is like a graceful victorian socialite ballroom dancing in after these pitch bends just pinned their arms to their sides and wiggled their hips around. We then get a third spacey instrument (I. have no idea what it is.) and it is. SUCH a switch. We have moved from awkward and stilted to almost too perfect and graceful (I forgot to write before but the high piano at the violin adds so much) to a moment of awe and discovery. We are now exploring the universe, the world of science and alchemy, and it is fantastic. The song almost seems to have it's own little narrative, and this is just a backing track for exploring one of the buildings!!!! This is within the first couple hours of gameplay, it is incredibly non-plot-relevant but SUCH a piece of art. I am absolutely in a slime ball watching amazing science happen so precisely and it is. so fuckin cool. And I could probably go off about every single other song, but in the interest of keeping away spoilers and finishing this post before 2 am, I will not. (Addendums because I can: this is less wet than the one my friend hates, and also this song is MOIST. I would also like to mention It's Showtime and Between the Lines as other song favorites but if I went into them I would never sleep.)

Okokokok. So. So SECOND point (I'm. so sorry.) I looked at my video game music soundtrack (I have two main soundtracks one for just every music but I didn't want to overwhelm it with VG music so I made one just for that that has ENTIRE soundtracks from almost every game I've played which. oops.) and I found two other contenders based mostly on I Really Liked The Games. The Oneshot soundtrack and the Night in the Woods soundtrack. Ok I'm gonna talk about Night in the Woods first cause HOLY shit. holy shit. The fucking astral songs. Those are fucking masterpieces. Such a simple ensemble but it creates such an INTENSE atmosphere. I really love instrumental music can you tell. I specifically want you listening to Astral Train for this one (played it for my senior recital and even though I had to play the violin part on clarinet I maintain it was one of the best choices I've ever made), but we the way the layers blend together is a fucking masterpiece. Since this song had to be designed so that any layer could play alone and each one could join in any order, each part of the quartet has to be interesting, but they still all must blend together and so they each get melody moments but the harmony/bass lines have to be interesting as well and. They ARE. This is such a hard task and it's accomplished SO. INCREDIBLY. WELL. (Side note: also makes for a good ensemble piece for, say, your and your friends' senior recitals, so everyone gets fun parts, a chance in the limelight, and a chance to rest, haha totally irrelevant note right there definitely no connection to my real life). With Astral Train we really get this cool ghostly train feel and through all the Astral pieces we REALLY feel the absolute intensity of Mae's dreams and the music creates such an immaculate vibe. It is unmatched. The rest of the soundtrack contains plenty of bops in a variety of genres too, where the bass songs have to be both playable and fun (Die Anywhere Else my beloved), and we get nostalgic and mischievous music fit for this ragtag team. This is the feeling I've had hanging out with my teenage friends at 10 PM in a parking lot. It is absolutely perfect for this video game. The music is SUCH a bop and really emotionally connects to me cause the game is such a bop of a plot. It is truly fantastic. (Addendum: Ok listening to Gregg rn and. Holy shit bop. I love him. I love this)

Ok now onto Oneshot, which, admittedly, does not have as strong a holding on the podium as these other two do, but curse me for having been emotionally destroyed by the video game because now I am emotionally attached to the music too. But, again, ATMOSPHERE. I am once again gonna be speaking in the interest of spoilers here, so I hope anyone who's finished the game will forgive what I'm not saying, but the entire landscape of this desolate planet is just SO much. The world is so simple and empty, and yet awe is often mixed with this feeling of despair. This is incredibly fitting for Niko, for the hopeful little pal they are, and creates an incredible effect. (I included specific song reccs for the last but I don't quite for this - so I'll just say now that I'm listening to On Little Cat Feet). The visuals are fairly simple, the map small, and just looking at the game the world feels incredibly small. But the music makes it all seem so vast. We really get put into Niko's shoes (or their little cat feet I suppose), and get to see this world for the vast, terrifying, but incredible place it is. The music makes you feel like that child seeing a new world for the first time, (this isn't spoilers past the first chapter but I'm warning you anyways) even though you are meant to be a god, you are still made to feel small and the world still large. The music does so much of this work, and it's incredible. Throughout the soundtrack the underlying angst, the despair, remains present, and the game has so much more impact for the music. No game is incomplete without it's music, and Nightmargin does a fantastic job creating this music for Oneshot. I haven't analyzed the actual music instruments/structure so much, but it's those instrumental sounds again tearing at my heart strings again. I would also like to recommend this game beyond the soundtrack, since it is an incredible story, with some puzzling gameplay, and it has made me feel how no other game has. It is a masterpiece of a game, and I implore everyone to play it through. Get hints if you need to, or play alone, just make it to the Ending. You'll know when you're there. (Addendum: I think I'm very repetitive here but I refuse to edit it so you have to live with this. Anyways gonna say it again: Play Oneshot!!)

Now I have chosen three game soundtracks that had a story that incredibly connected with me, and music to bolster that story and those emotions in incredibly meaningful ways. But there are so many others with great music, but that didn't necessarily connect on such an emotional level. Portal and Portal 2 have fantastic soundtracks, Celeste has beautiful music, Underhero has some funky and spectacular beats, Undertale and Deltarune are famously incredible (although I also did emotionally connect with them... but they're already talked about enough. Lancer beloved.), Clam Man is just. Fun., Oxenfree is also incredibly atmospheric and spectacular, Sewer Rave just has nice beats, and Minecraft is nostalgic as all hell. There are so many games to choose from, that from the moment I saw your question I knew I would be writing a far too long Tumblr post to answer you, because it feels an injustice to just answer one without reasoning, or without bringing to light all of the other amazing sounds I've discovered.

To finally answer your question, I think Ikenfell deserves the top spot in my heart. My instinct was right, there's fresh sounds, great musical structure (see: Between the Lines that I didn't elaborate on), incredibly emotional sounds, and fantastic storytelling within the soundtrack. But I love all of these other soundtracks, so I must bring them up. For they also have spots in my heart.

TL;DR - Ikenfell wins but I also love Oneshot and Night in the Woods and many others so I don't know what to say chief (lies i have too much to say)

#i will not apologize you brought this on the world by asking #i'm so sorry you had to find out i'm such a nerd This Way #i want to ask my friends to proofread this for legibility before posting but lets be real thats not happening. it wont be legible #so sorry about being this much of a nerd. not really but. wow that got long. mm vulnerability my behated #ikenfell #night in the woods #oneshot #only tagging those three cause theyre the ones i got too emotional about.#ok ok im gonna post this now lmao #wait am i legally allowed to mention blaseball cause the garages or is that not allowed #ok i think its not allowed #but the garages r very good i listened to the newest album today and *chefs kiss*

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years ago

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First-Line Defensive Pairing

Of all the things they’d done in the last few months, spending the afternoon at the Museum of Ice Cream was one of the more ridiculous. Mostly because of the wooden spoons they gave out on the tour. Partially because it seemed Will Scarlet could not stop casting furtive glances at Belle French. Or the heels that always matched her dresses. Maybe because she kept answering his hypothetical questions. And maybe even because he was willing to drift far closer to genuine these days. At least when it came to his feelings for her.

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Word Count: 3.7K AN: Take two! Ok, so apparently yesterday when I posted this Tumblr thought it’d be a really cool idea to just...reformat the entire story. With whole graphs in totally wrong spots. Anyway, here it is again. Just as ridiculous as yesterday. With just as many Will and Belle emotions. Because that’s a thing I’m doing now, apparently. Writing Blue Line-era Will and Belle. If you’d like more of these flirt-prone idiots, here is their first date and Belle getting annoyed that Will fought someone on the ice. Technically, this was part of the kiss prompts and was “height difference kisses.” I hope the five of you who are interested in this enjoy it. That includes @shireness-says and @eleveneitherway who are mostly to blame for this.

————

“I’m going to ask you a hypothetical question.”

Belle lifted her eyebrows. Let some of that light creep back in her gaze, a flash of amusement that regularly made Will’s stomach leap dangerously close to the base of his ribs. That’s why he did it. Maybe not the rib thing, partially because he wasn’t even sure that was the correct technical term. The rest of it, though. The eye thing. Sure. Definitely. One-hundred percent. Why he’d also made sure the little wooden spoon they’d been given at the start of this tour was still in the corner of his mouth; to guarantee absolute absurdity, and he figured that started when they decided to spend their afternoon at the Museum of Ice Cream, but he was willing to take it all a step further.

In the absurdity factor, at least.

Other things were—

Well, it wasn’t as if they explicitly decided to keep the relationship a secret. Not on purpose. Not really. Or come to any sort of legitimate agreement regarding the use of the word relationship. It never seemed...important, honestly. And that was a potentially problematic and lackadaisical approach to someone who made Will smile with an almost alarming consistency in the last few months, but she’d also sort of snuck up on him, and Ariel was going to be so annoying.

About the whole goddamn thing.

She’d never shut up about it, he knew.

So he didn’t push. Belle didn’t, either. An unspoken agreement, that’s what it was. He had other things to do, anyway. Like get ready for a playoff run and ignore the lingering ache in his calves after the echo of Arthur’s whistle stopped ringing in his ears, and, ok, his apartment was starting to feel a little bit larger than it had in a long time, maybe since Killian had moved out, but that was fine. Cup runs did not come because someone was in a relationship. Will had seen that first hand. With Cap, of all people.

Watched the way his whole life had fallen apart around his ankles, little shards of hope and possibility that, Will knew, still threatened the structural integrity of Kilian’s internal organs and all four ventricles of his heart, and he did not understand enough basic biology to be making those sorts of sweeping observations, but Robin had lost someone too and that had been horrible and tragic and—

If Will simply did not want to jinx things, then that was neither here nor there.

Relationship’y speaking.

It was good. They were good. He hated the wooden spoon they gave them to taste test half a dozen ice cream flavors.

He was legitimately worried about getting splinters in his tongue.

No excuses could possibly reason away that problem pre-game.

Belle’s eyebrows were still in the same spot. “You going to follow up on that, or…” “Would you burn a Gutenberg Bible? To stave off the apocalypse and or potential frostbite?” “Those two things go together, do they?” He shrugged. “In this instance, yeah, because—” “—Well, it wouldn’t matter,” Belle said, eyes flitting towards the overly enthusiastic tour guide and the seemingly never-ending history of ice cream, “because I wouldn’t allow myself to be in that position. And I don’t live anywhere near the Public Library. What would I be doing there when the freeze-wave came?” His stomach. Did that thing. Jumped and twisted, got a ten from the Russian judge on its floor routine. He was cautiously optimistic he’d be able to pull off a flawless beam performance too. It was an exceedingly convoluted metaphor. Wrong Olympics, too.

“Does salt air give you mind-reading powers?” “You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are,” Belle grinned. Moving her hand faster than he was entirely prepared for ensured that he nearly dropped his small plastic cup of churro churro ice cream. He made noise. Without trying. A hiss and a grunt in the back of his throat that then led to a sound escaping between Belle’s half-hearted scowl, and that sound was closer to a giggle than either of them would ever admit and just enough to mess with his mental faculties a little and the tour guide stopped talking. To stare straight at them.

Color lifted on Belle’s cheeks, ice cream-covered spoon held awkwardly between them.

“As you were, ma’am,” Will said, all false bravado, and that was something of a trend. In several different capacities. It was far too depressing a thought to have while eating cinnamon-flavored ice cream.

Belle elbowed him.

And the tour guide got back to her to spiel. Without a reprimand.

“Say freeze-wave again without laughing.”

Her eyelashes were more of a problem, honestly. Than the eyebrows. Or the specific jut of her chin Will had rather quickly learned meant she was ready to challenge him on some ridiculous topic, fully prepared to argue a position she might not have otherwise agreed with. Only because it wasn’t what he was arguing, and it was easy to understand why she won that Model UN award.

Plus, her eyelashes were just stupid long, and he thought she was really pretty.

Like in a fundamental sort of way.

“Freeze-wave,” Belle enunciated, pausing between syllables for maximum effect, “are you asking me Day After Tomorrow questions because of the ice cream, because I’m a librarian or because you’re the strangest man alive?” She finally ate the rest of the ice cream. It was starting to melt, that was why. This was very melt-prone ice cream. “Oh, shit,” she mumbled, “this is really good. Better than mine.” Something popped in his shoulder when he reached towards her plastic cup. He wouldn’t tell Ariel about that, either.

“Which kind is—” Fighting off the objections of a small librarian who resolutely refused to wear anything except heels, no matter what the weather was like, was not usually as difficult as it was in that moment. Will assumed it had something to do with sugar. Or the force of his smile. Robbing the rest of him of energy and the ability to fend off either one of Belle’s fists. “Why are you like this?” “You didn’t want to try peanut and pretzel. With peanut butter swirl.” “Swallowed the flyer for this place while I wasn’t looking, huh?” Sticking her tongue out was distracting. Almost enough that he didn’t notice the absolutely atrocious attempt at impersonating his voice. “Oh, no, no, babe, I don’t want that; you can get peanut butter anywhere. That’s not special.” “Well, it’s not.” “I’m a big fancy hockey player, and I know everything there is to know about ice cream flavors and the potential life-changing palette moment that comes from the sublime combination of salty and sweet.” “Oh, now you’re just taunting me.” Her eyes narrowed, that time. His smile was going to permanently stretch out his cheeks. “You have a disgusting mind.” “You can’t get churro ice cream everywhere, babe.” “I’m going back to get honey later.” Will hummed. Stuck his lower lip out. Noticed that flash return. And hoarded it. Like a relationship—

Ah, fuck.

“Would you burn the Gutenberg Bible?” Her laugh was quickly becoming his favorite sound. Which wasn’t bad, per se. Was just kind of passably concerning. God damn. It was the heels. All of them kept matching the dresses she wore. She kept wearing dresses.

Of course, that was going to mess with Will’s head.

Belle shook her head. “No.” “Historical significance?” “Well, once again, I would not be in that position, would have listened to science and fled to warmer climates, so as not to make myself prey for escaped...what were they? Tigers?” “I honestly can’t remember,” Will admitted.

“This was your hypothetical!”

Heads snapped their direction. Frustration creased the tour guide’s forehead, and they’d paid extra to learn about the history of ice cream. Will had already known about the origins of the ice cream cone, though. So, the whole thing felt almost like a raw deal, and he was far more interested in preserving the color in Belle’s cheeks. He saluted. Who he was saluting was anyone’s guess, but it very likely was the otherwise unengaged teenage kid trudging behind his family who absolutely recognized Will.

“That’s going to end up on sixteen different social media sites,” Belle warned, not quite able to get her voice to an appropriate whispering level.

“So long as he got my good side, you won’t hear me complaining.” “Do you have a good side?”

“Sweetheart, the self-confidence. God.” She squeezed her eyes shut. While practically beaming at him, and Will had to bend his knees to reach, something else creaking in the process, but that was fine, and good, and pretty goddamn fantastic because her lips tasted a bit like chocolate.

“‘S’not your best work,” Belle mumbled, almost entirely into his mouth.

“Brain freeze.” “I would burn no books. That’s my final hypothetical answer.” Her eyelashes must have existed purely to torment him. Leaning back made it clear when they fluttered back open, and he swore there were flecks of gold in her eyes. Maybe he was melting, too. With the ice cream. That was almost poetic. “None at all? What if you were going to die?” “Maudlin.” “I don’t know what that means.” “Liar,” she challenged, another smile tugging at her mouth, and Will was clearly staring at her mouth. Stained slightly with chocolate, as it was. “I stand by it, though. The book stuff, not the commentary on your burgeoning intelligence.” “You want to find a corner to go and make out in?” Different laugh. The kind that came with her head thrown back, hair tickling Will’s forearm because at some point his arm had found its way around her, and touching Belle was becoming something almost close to second nature. “I could keep complimenting you if you want,” Belle said, “or I could give you my reason for not burning books.” “You’re a giant nerd, that’s why.” She clicked her tongue. “Very, very cute nerd, though.” “Betcha say that to all the girls.”

His stomach stilled. Dropped a few inches, for good measure. Below where it was supposed to be, and inching dangerously close to his feet, and what Will could not imagine was a very sanitary floor. The Museum of Ice Cream had a giant sprinkle pit. Nothing about that seemed very sanitary.

“I think stories have a purpose,” Belle said, still not quite whispering but definitely getting there, and he knew. Knew she knew. What he was thinking and feeling and unspoken understanding was quickly becoming the name of this particular game. With them.

Where it wasn’t a game at all.

Damn.

Ariel was going to be so annoying.

“No matter what they are. Shitty as they can be, all those ups and downs, and ridiculous, often unnecessary melodrama. It’s going to matter to somebody. Someone, somewhere, will be living their life and read those words or see those letters, and they’ll think, wow, whoever wrote this, gets me, and it will change everything for them. They’ll go back to it. Find solace and safety in it. Themselves, maybe. They’ll believe everything will be ok. Even if they only think that while they’re reading.” “Don’t forget audiobooks,” Will muttered, voice strangled and tinged with emotion. In the ice cream museum. Figured, honestly.

Belle pinched the side of his wrist.

“Ow. Avoid the bruise further up, please.” “Did you get hit?” Nodding took more energy than it should have, too. She hadn’t been to a game. He hadn’t asked her. What an idiot. “Not bad though, that’s just—” “—Par for the course.” “Mixing idioms, mon trésor.” “Oh, I got that one, actually.” “Slow pitch softball, that’s why,” Will reasoned, some of the tension he wasn’t especially pleased by loosening.

“I think we’re on a roll now.” He hummed. Nodded, again. Curled his fingers into the back of Belle’s dress. Blue, that afternoon. With matching heels. “It all matters,” she added, soft and earnest, and his eyes snapped. To her and with her and that second one didn’t make sense, not really, but he was and wanted to be and that absolutely terrified him.

Of it all falling apart again. Of it not being enough.

He wasn’t enough.

A story no one was ever all that interested in finishing.

“You think?” Belle nodded. “Why’d you start playing hockey?” “Quite a transition.” “Tit for tat, or—no, no, c’mon don’t look at me like that.” Red stained her cheeks, now. Making it difficult to concentrate on anything else, although the desire to kiss her again was a fairly strong second, and that kid was taking more pictures. “That’s not fair.” “You’ve brought this on yourself, babe,” Will argued, and he hoped Lucas didn’t yell. At him. He’d never really listened to the social media rules. “It’s a very long, occasionally depressing story about a kid and his single mom, the second of whom often worked her ass off and her fingers to the bone, and all those other delightfully visual clichés. But then! Who would guess, she got a job picking up extra shifts cleaning at the rink in town. Home to the world’s shittiest ice and loudest Zamboni, it instantly drew the attention of our kid-like hero.

“He was...infatuated, let’s say. With the sounds, especially. Nothing sounds like that first scrape of skates on fresh ice. Full of possibility, you know?” Belle didn’t answer. Will kept talking. “Best noise in the world. And then he learned there were other noises. Pucks hitting the back of nets. Sticks clanging together. Grunts and groans and the game itself, how loud it was. Helped silence some of his thoughts, none of which were ever very good. Lots of worries, some about his very dead sister, then a few more about that mother and her predilection toward clichés.”

“Good word,” Belle murmured. He kissed the top of her hair. The kid was openly staring at them, now.

“Anyway, the crux of the story is that the guy who owned the rink agreed to let the kid play on the rink. Knew the mother, understood her situation, and hockey is expensive. Like, well, we spout all that bullshit about hockey is for everyone, and I’ve got to stand up there and smile and nod and agree, and it’s fucked up because it’s not really true. Hockey’s for rich kids and families with regularly functioning alternators in their car.”

He shook his head. Had to. To chase away the memories and the cobwebs, and Cap knew this, too. Understood it, even. Remembered a life before the Vanklads, and not every kid got the Vankalds, and sometimes Will let himself wonder what would have happened if he’d found the Vanklads. Or their upstate New York equivalent.

Gotten better shin pads, probably.

“Hockey’s an exclusive sorta club,” Will continued, “gotta know someone who’s related to someone else, and they know someone who played, and it’s six degrees of increasingly desperate separation. By some lucky twist of fate, though, Jimmy Newell knew some bastard who knew somebody else, who saw me play, and you don’t say no to USA Developmental. Spent two years in Minnesota, way before Cap did, so he doesn’t get to claim that state as his own.” Belle’s lips twitched. “Good to know, for argument’s sake.” His stomach was becoming a problem.

Heart, too.

Sputtering and slamming, uneven beats that were going to leave another bruise. Will licked his lips.

“I went to Developmental, declared for the draft, got picked by New York, went to college, stayed in college, and the rest is history. As they say.” “They do say that, yeah.” “What’s the next question, then?” “How do you know there’s another question?” “Shot in the dark,” Will shrugged, but that was a lie, and it was getting increasingly easier to read that pinch between her eyebrows. “So, hit me.” “Literally?” “Please do not literally hit me. Locksley’s been feeling the forecheck the last couple’a practices.” “I know what that means!” Someone shushed them. Will couldn’t imagine the color will ever leave Belle’s cheeks.

He kissed the bridge of her nose.

“Who’d you get to teach you French?” “Who said I didn’t just learn French on my own?” “Babe,” she chided, and, well, that was the tipping point. As they say. To his heart and his stomach and—

“You wanna come to a game this series?” Belle blinked. Once, twice. Leaned back. Tilted her head. Likely waited for the camera crew that was inevitably lurking in the corner he was cautiously optimistic they’d make out in eventually. Didn’t happen, though. There was no camera crew.

Just Will Scarlet, professional hockey player, and part-time sap. Standing in one of the more nonsensical museums they’d been to in the last two months. Although they did go to the transit museum on three separate occasions, and he could honestly say he didn’t expect that.

So, maybe this was all just—

Par for the course.

He’d have to make some sort of deal with Eric. To make sure Ariel didn’t proclaim her relationship-plotting victories from a variety of rooftops. Someone in front office had to know someone else with Empire State Building connections.

Zelena probably did.

Ariel would use that.

“Where would I sit?”

He pulled her. Up. With an almost violent amount of force, threatening the safety of both of Belle’s shoulders in the process. But she’d asked the one question he hadn’t totally considered in his half-plotted plan, and getting his mouth back on hers was an acceptable diversion. Plus, she looped her arms around his neck pretty quickly.

Which had to count for something, he figured.

One hand cupped the back of his head, pulling him closer. Like he had any intention of being anywhere else, swiping his tongue against Belle’s lip and swallowing her sigh. They were still in public, technically. Her feet trailed the multi-color carpet beneath them, Will’s arms tightening and his palm flat against her back and her spine, and if she kept rocking up like that, he was going to do something drastic.

Something in the same realm as melting, probably.

Strands of hair tickled his skin, making him tilt his head and alter the angle, and that was entirely appropriate, but getting kicked out of the Museum of Ice Cream would probably make an absolutely fantastic story. Once they told people they were—

Doing whatever it was they were doing.

They’d get there eventually.

“Cap’s sister-in-law is coming,” Will said, not entirely able to catch his breath, “wants to see Kris and—” “—Should I know who that is?” “Works in equipment, and that’s not really the point.” “What is?” “That Little Vankald isn’t super interested in listening to Cap be full older brother on her and, far as I know, is fully capable of getting tickets wherever she wants. Can sweet talk the gold out of anyone’s pockets, and—” “—Wait, wait, are you equating hockey tickets to gold?” “When I’m playing, ma choupette.” “Is that cabbage?” He hummed. Nearly tripped over his own feet trying to hold onto Belle and the mostly melted cup of ice cream and paying for more churro ice cream made perfect sense. At the moment. “One of the kids at school was French Canadian,” Will explained, “used to swear all the time on the ice, and then he’d use stuff like that.” “You’re sharing endearments with a trash talker.” “More or less, yeah. Used to infuriate other guys.” “Who wants to be called a cabbage?” “I think you’re super cute.” Belle scowled. Didn’t argue, though. And Will refused to linger on the beat of his pulse. “I’d really like it if you were there,” he added, “Little Vanklad’ll be cool about it. She owes me. I fed her for a very long time.” “Did you just?” “I make incredible garlic bread; ask anyone.” “Wow,” Belle drawled, “just like people on the street, or…also, do you call her Little Vanklad all the time?” “To her face and behind her back with startling regularity. Not everyone gets my French endearments, babe. Consider yourself lucky.”

She scrunched her nose.

Stayed silent. All Will could hear was the soft explanations of the tour guide, and the questions from tourists who probably also thought going to the Museum of Sex made them edgy. After they bought a STRAND tote bag. God, maybe he was a dick. A judgmental dick, who still had too many thoughts and used an occasionally violent game to silence them by making sure he was the one dictating the noises and the trash talk and—

“Hey, uh, Will...Mr., uh—Mr. Scarlet? Do you think we could get a picture?”

Belle’s lips disappeared. Behind her teeth, and that didn’t do anything to temper the sound of what might have actually been joy. At the prospect of the staring teenager and his photo request.

In the goddamn Museum of Ice Cream.

Giving a jerky nod, Will quickly scanned the kid for any team-branded, but it didn’t look like he was wearing merch and that was a rather small miracle. Far as those things went.

Still, he had been in the middle of a pretty intense internal dialogue and potential freakout, and there was going to be ice cream on his hand if he didn’t throw this cup away.

Belle took the phone.

The kid’s phone.

“Smile,” she instructed, and Will tried. Really. He hoped he didn’t end up looking like a murderer on Twitter or Instagram or whatever kids used, and he had no idea when he got that old. When things started to freak him out, and he let the nerves claw back in, and the worry take root and—

“Hey,” he said before the kid could walk back to his parents and their matching STRAND tote bags. “You think you could take a picture of us, real quick?”

No one had ever moved faster.

In, like, the history of photography.

Circling an arm around Belle’s waist, Will’s smile came a bit easier and that was good because he was totally unprepared for what happened after that. Another instruction and flick of someone’s thumb, but then Belle was on her toes, even with the heels, and her lips were pressed against his cheek and it was like some sort of really exceptional sugar high.

Without the threat of inevitable crash.

Will didn’t think so, at least. He was also pretty positive it wasn’t tigers in The Day After Tomorrow. Wolves, maybe.

“Tell Little Vankald to save me a seat.” “I mean, I don’t think you should call her that.”

Her teeth grazed his jaw. Both of them were laughing in the picture, the kid’s eyes going impossibly wide as Will thanked him. “How hard you think it is to set up an Instagram account?”

#scarlet beauty #scarlet beauty ff #scarlet beauty fic #will x belle #blue line one shots #what did i use yesterday as my tag for this?#so as not to also confuse it with the au of the au staring will scarlet?#defensive!blue line #that wasn't it but it is now #anyway these have been real fun to write #because as we all know i am certified trash for alternate stories in the same 'verse #also giving belle a personality finally is a delight #seriously i hope the five people interested in this enjoy it

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aurora-van-van-vana · 4 months ago

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SO. (sorry for how long this is. I also don’t think I answered the question.)

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

I’ve seen plenty of people discussing the space race (within the RusAme side of the fandom, sorry I’ve taken field trips there.) and Alfred & Ivan as a duo have both been seen drawn in a lot of fan arts of them in space or with space suits or like with stars and all that jazz. BUT. with this comes along the very serious RusAme shippers. And they began THINKING. mostly, since this is a very new thing as far as I know, it’s mainly been seen and discussed in text form, not a lot of art yet. (I am obviously working to change that lmao.)

Anyway, back to the point. The people were thinking. They thought, since the fact that they are beings tethered to the earth and the soil that they happen to be, the side effect of going to space would be HORRID.**like since he is leaving the earth it’s like he is leaving his life or like actually imagine this. A string. And like all of the hetalia characters have strings attached their bodies. Tethered to the earth. And then they leave the earth and whatever power that gives them the ability to live is physically fighting and punishing them for leaving. Which, imagine if you were the Earth and then your creature thing left. Like. How?? How did my blorbo leave. Anyway space blah blah blah stars blah Alfred obsession blah blah

I’ve read an interesting telling of the results of Alfred being in Space, (and Ivan too can’t forget about him.) and him coming down. Him getting home. The fact that as soon as he is healthy and home and back on earth, the KNOWLEDGE OF HIM NEVER BEING ABLE TO GO BACK. LIKE. PHYSICALLY BEING UNABLE to go to the place that he dreamed of, no matter how cringe one could argue that my whole spiel was just now (excuse: it’s very late I’m probably gonna draw a bit and maybe go sleep, maybe hang out on tumblr for a bit!) but I just ADORE that new trope. I think I’m using that term wrong. Not to like torture the blorbo. but. like torture the blorbo.

**also. How the Alfred reaction was written is….beyond words. Like. The PANIC. like the HERO the DUDE the WORLD SAVER not knowing how to handle this sorta thing is just. Mwah. Chefs kiss. My poor blorbo I’ll help him later. Also I know this is crazy there’s two certain Hetalia artists who have definitely been infecting me and I’ll handle that later. And I will NOT share this thing I read for reasons. By the way, thank you for asking I appreciate that so very much fr. Sorry for answering so so late.

♥️

If anyone needs me, I will be brainrotting about Alfred F Jones. Feel free to join me by reblogging this post and telling me what you're brainrotting about lately. Is an AU? A headcanon? A meta-analysis? Are you rotating him in your head like a rotisserie chicken? Let's talk about the blorbo.

#⭐️ you earn a star my friend #alfred f jones

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millennial-star-gazer · 4 years ago

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When A Celestial Prey Dreams: Chapter: 2 (Nalu Week 2020)

When A Celestial Prey Dreams

Nalu week 2020 Prompts: Voice, Flirt, Charm & Smile (All implied)

Genres: Romance, Drama & New Adult Fanfiction

Pairing: Nalu/Endlu (Natsu x Lucy & E.n.d. Natsu x Lucy)

Rating: M for language, steamy and mature/adult sexual content (all consensual) in these and future chapters. Reader Discretion is advised.(You've been warned!)

Summary: Such a carnal thrill of the hunt is too electrifying for words; especially when a fire demon sets his sights on a celestial maiden who's more-than-willing to be his prey. What seems to start off as a random dream for Lucy quickly escalates into far-more sizzling territory. New ficet which will eventually combined into upcoming chapters for TDDW along with other fics. First two chapters are entries for @nalu-week 2020. (Nalu/Endlu-centric and semi-au/canon divergent).

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Chapter 2: A Major Reunion and The Most Lethal of Vows

A/N: Hey guys, here's chapter 2 aka my second entry for @nalu-week 2020. Special thanks again to @mannyegb for helping me edit and further develop this chapter! Now on to the actual chapter-enjoy!

Note: Scroll past the Read More Button/Cut for designated links and actual story content.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fairytail which instead belongs to the one and only Hiro-sensei instead!

________________________________________

Read More of This Fic and on other Platforms

Note: Copy and paste links into another browser tap if reading on desktop site

1. When A Celestial Prey Dreams

A. Tumblr

Previous (Chapter) (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/621681896131379200/when-a-celestial-prey-dreams-chapter-1-nalu

Chapter: 2 (Click Here:) Next (Chapter) (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/627371278930755584/when-a-celestial-prey-dreams-chapter3)

B. Fanfiction

I. Main Fanfiction (Click Here:) (or here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13623687/1/When-A-Celestial-Prey-Dreams-Nalu-Week-2020)

II. Secondary (Click Here:) ( or here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13143482/1/Millennial-Drabbles)

II. Other (Click Here:) ( or here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13246734/1/Millennial-OTP-Drabbles)

C. A03

I. Main A03 (Click Here:) (or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24802720/chapters/59984170)

II. Secondary (Click Here:) (or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18244343/chapters/43167767)

3. Master Post Of All My Writing And Profiles (Click Here:) (or here: https://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179665258923/master-fic-rec-post)

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Legend

Italics: Lucy's dream or song/literary quotes

Bold: First Person Thoughts Within The Dream

Bolded Italics: Telepathic dialogue or empathized words

Bolded Italics: (outside of main story): A/N

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"When you need me, I'll step out of the shadows and protect what's mine"

(Source: Unknown)

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Sometime later

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How long have I been running?

Lucy couldn't pinpoint just how much time passed when she reached a steady-moving creek just beyond the edge of the forest clearing. 20 minutes, 30, 40? Difficult to tell really. But hey, the brook was very much a welcome sight for her sore eyes either way.

Hmm…..I wonder...

A quick cursory scan across the surroundings confirmed that navigating through the shallow waters would be a Highly efficient trek across to get to the other side for Lucy.

And it'd shave a bunch more time off my trip than it would go all the way around. Not to mention, the opportunity for her to hopefully scope out the perfect spot for laying low. Like, say a cave or a grove beneath the cover of trees to set up camp with the much-welcomed cozy heat of a crackling fire.

It'd be nice to take a breather and regroup with my spirits. Figure out my next move. Maybe even get a quick bite and some shut-eye. Even better if it's in Natsu's arms and I can convince him to let us spend a few days together in the woods instead of being cooped up in that goddamn horrible fortress. Just us, plus Happy and my spirits when they pop by. Either way, all in all, it should be a nice retreat from all the chaos. God, I miss them all already. Okay, gonna cross.

All decided then, a proverbial hop, and skip to the stream it was.

A few minutes later

__________________________________________

A bit chilly and soggy but not the worst experience overall.

Kind of impossible for the blonde not to notice the river water soaking into her boots though.

Definitely unfortunate though no biggie ... I'll just hang the boots by a fire to dry and wear shoes from one of my star dresses.

"Lucy-hey !"

Natsu's audible shout pierced through her thoughts.

Sounds like he found me ...

"Up here, Luce!" The voice hollered down a second time with an undeniable note of urgency. "Yeah, look up!"

Definitely Natsu then ...

Lucy's eyes flickered above to see the aloft fire demon in the air with unfurled wings.

"There ya' go. Wait. Why are you—" he began to question, brows knitting together in confusion. " Never mind. That's not important right now. How about you finish crossing and meet me on the other side?"

"Sure," Lucy complied, finding no actual reason to object. God knows she couldn't help but desperately need— no crave-to be inside her soulmate 's robust arms as if deprived of precious oxygen for too long. So much so that i had to be some kind of astounding miracle that her already fragile self- resolve didn't shatter sooner ."Meet you on the other side."

"Yep."

The celestial wizard watched Natsu sail over her head with relieved eyes before; making her way over to a grassy bank. Not long after, the demon lord's feet landed on solid ground just as she reached the river's edge.

Finally…

"Land ho, huh?". Natsy let loose a breath of tremendous relief. "Thank god you're all right. Honestly had me pretty worried there when I caught whiffs of your blood. Here- let me help you." An open hand to his mate who gladly accepted.

"Thanks," she breathed, a faint smile pulling at the corner of her lips. So warm ... Mavis knows that it was impossible for the celestial wizard not to relish in the blissful warmth of the fire eater's touch. "and I accidentally ended up slicing my hand open when running earlier. Probably the reason why you could smell a bit of my blood too .

"Aw Shit... yeah," Natsu echoed, brow creasing in moderate concern." That does make a lot of sense actually. Can I take a look?"

"S-Sure..." Lucy willingly let her palm be turned over by Natsu's hand with the still-bleeding gash in plain sight.

"Oh crap— this is pretty bad". He sighed, dismaying the corner of his lips into a frown ."Not life-threatening but you're still gonna need stitches for sure". A thumb brushed over Lucy's wound; with such delicate care, that warmth flooded her veins.

"So sorry about your hand Luce. We'll get you fixed up in no time though."

"Okay... I don't doubt that ."

"Good to hear."

Still, there's something bothering me about Jackal and the others...

"Hey, Natsu?" Lucy spoke up, trying her most damnest to sound nonchalant—untroubled even. No need to panic prematurely after all. "I was wondering about Jackal, Rayan, and Tempest."

"Yeah, what about them?" Natsu's attentive hum along with the open light of his gaze in response to her question was an encouraging sign . "Now, where did I put that cloth? Be pretty useful for your hand right now. I'm still listening by the way. Please continue."

"Okay. So.. those three aren't searching for me too, are they?" Lucy couldn't mask the tremor in those words; not with the surge of terror shooting through her heart. "Really don't want either one of them coming after me..."

It'd be terrible...

"Those slimy bastards won't be getting anywhere near you, Lucy," E.n.d. declared, voice coming in eerily calm with a distinct edge that bordered on lethal. "Trust me. I'll make damn sure of that. His tone dropped to a thinly-veiled threat of menacing proportions that sent a chill down Lucy's spine." By smashing all their teeth by breaking and crushing every worthless bone in their bodies if they so much as lay a finger on ya' or even try. "

Jeez... Natsu really would go that far to keep me and everyone he loves safe, wouldn't he?

"Hell, why not broil their flesh to a blackened crisp too? Pretty sure I told em' as much and more before setting out to find you earlier."

"Okay…"

" Aw Damn.."

Just for Natsu's eyes to instantly soften at the unfettered panic that was written all over Lucy's face.

"Whoa easy there" The dragon slayer soothed, running the back of his hand down her cheek in a gentle caress. " It's gonna be alright, sweetheart. I'll protect you if it comes down to a fight. Just like I always have— promise. Plus, we got your spirits to back us up or get you out of here or create a distraction if we bump into those guys again. It'll be fine, okay ?"

"Okay," Lucy let out a breath, speeding heart rate now slowing down. Her fears were eased by Natsu's attentive care after all. "Okay. I feel a lot better. Thanks, Natsu."

"Yay— that's the spirit, Luce!" Natsu approved, flashing his mate a sunny grin that set her heart aflutter. "And anytime. Now lemme' get your hand bandaged up for ya'."

"Alrighty."

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A/N: And that's Chapter 2 folks! Hope you enjoyed and stay tuned for more! Anyway, I don't really have to much to say other than my usual A/N spiel. You know by basically being sure to let me know what you think by leaving a comment/review, liking and reblogging! Please feel free to check my other entry and the rest of my writing. (Corresponding Links are above, in the navigation bar and bio if reading this on tumblr. Please also see my FF and A03 profiles!) All right, that's all for now folks! Thanks to everyone for the incredible show of support so far again ! Until next time-take care!

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hanalwayssolo · 6 years ago

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In The Line of Duty

A/N: Timely for Iggy’s name day! So. Slightly departing from the usual structure in which I write my stories, so this may seem a bit... weird? Fragmented? So I kind of not recommend reading this via Tumblr mobile bc that app murders the formatting lmao

Tagging them pals! @blindedstarlight @valkyrieofardyn @bleucommelhiver @gowithme @noboomoon @emmydots @lazarustrashpit @raspberryandechinacea @hanatsuki89 @mp938368 @boo-dangy @animakupo

Ignis breezes through the freeway, his Aston Martin almost flying through the rainy night. He is never one to drive like a madman, but this is a desperate time that certainly calls for this very desperate measure. He spares a glance at the rearview mirror. A shabby white Mitsubishi and a gaudy yellow Volvo still remain in close pursuit. Looks like the flock of paparazzi back from Maagho’s really is a persistent lot. In the passenger seat, you sit in an unsettling silence.

Fuck these bastards, he mutters under his breath.

Speed limits be damned. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel. Ignis revs the engine and zips past the steady traffic.

“Let’s get you back to your flat, alright?” he offers kindly.

You say nothing.

Suddenly, Ignis finds himself missing your chatty, teasing antics. That silly smile of yours. By this time, you should have been pleading him to let you go someplace else—anywhere but your place—while annoying him to death with your usual smartass quips. You never do.

Months before, Ignis had been perfectly convinced you were the most insufferable human he has ever come across. Funny how he now thinks otherwise. Even funnier that he now cares. Because it’s not his business to care. His job was never to look nor to listen.

But at this point, you have made him break every single rule in his book.

The first thing Ignis notices when he meets you is your eyes.

Something about your strong and striking gaze makes him wonder why someone like him is even employed at your service. One look from you, he is pretty certain you are completely capable on your own in terms of sending anyone who dares cross your path—may it be troublesome paparazzi, or overzealous fans and haters alike—to run with their tails between their legs. Your composure and confidence says just as much. Seems to him that you’re the type of person who does not need anyone’s protection, let alone a bodyguard.

Which is a sentiment you made very clear that morning in the luxurious luster of Hotel St. Regis’s lobby.

“I’m afraid Aranea here has wasted your time—” you tell Ignis as you set your cup of coffee back on the table, sharply turning your attention to the silver-haired woman who is sitting across from you— “but like I said, I can take care of myself just fine—”

“Really?” Aranea scoffs, casting you a challenging glare. “And by taking care of yourself, do you mean going around punching paparazzi square in the face and breaking their camera as you please?”

You shrug. “Well, that fella fucking deserved it—”

“Whether they deserved it or not isn’t the fucking point, you idiot. Do you have any idea how Cor had to shell out his own money to keep that incident from going out to the press?” Aranea sighs in resignation. “Look, this is more than just taking care of yourself. This is about—”

“—my career, my image, and my reputation, blah blah blah. Yes, you don’t need to do all of Cor’s spiel—I get it.”

Aranea raises an eyebrow. “Do you really? ‘Cause if you really did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation and Ignis wouldn’t be the fourth replacement in the span of six fucking months.”

You fall silent. Though Ignis is compelled to say something, he knows very well not to provide his thoughts, unsolicited or otherwise. That’s never in his job description. He had been trained to keep his mouth shut, and he is going to do just that. Besides, what would he know? Such is the world of glitz and glamour that is show business, and Ignis has never been tasked with handling celebrity clientele before. If anything, among his peers, it was either Gladio or Nyx who gets paired with the high profile A-listers. Clarus’s directive for him came as a strange surprise, the initial briefing of his task even stranger. All throughout his fifteen years of service in the Lucian Security Bureau, people frequently assigned to Ignis were government big shots, business moguls, and upper echelons of society who have been targets of terror and violence.

However, in your case… Ignis could see that you fit in neither the former nor the latter. At least for now, that’s what he thinks.

You spread your elbows over the table, eyeing Aranea with a wicked smile all over your face. “You know what would be better, Ari?”

“Don’t call me that—”

“You could pass as both my handler and bodyguard, don’t you think?

Aranea looks at Ignis, then back at you. “Does that come with a raise?”

You lean back against your seat. “Nope.”

“Didn’t think so.” Aranea exhales a derisive laugh. “Then I suppose we leave Ignis to do that job for all our sakes. Anyway, we better get going—” from her satchel, she pulls out a sleek-looking tablet— “you have to be ready for your four p.m. table read and a seven p.m. interview Dino of Meteor Publishing.” To Ignis, she says, “I assume you’ve already been briefed by your superior about all your responsibilities?”

Ignis sits up straighter and nods. “Yes.”

“Good. It’s pretty simple actually, but the past bodyguards can’t seem to do it.” Aranea smiles, clapping Ignis by the shoulder as she narrows her eyes on you. “Just don’t let this moron out of your sight, and we’ll all be fine.”

The first thing you notice about Ignis is his eyes.

Never mind the scar that cruised the left side of his face, that tiny slash over his right eyebrow, or even the one on the bridge of his nose. He didn’t even need to look at you directly for you to marvel at how fiercely green his eyes are, like the colour of a bright summer’s day. However, back in the lobby with Aranea, there is no warmth in his silences nor in his clinical concentration; there is only a crippling coldness. One look at him and you could already surmise that he’s had his fair share of danger in his profession. Though he is lean and lithe unlike your past bodyguards who all seem to be built out of heavier materials, you cannot shake the feeling that Ignis might have killed a man with his bare hands.

Still, you don’t really need someone like Ignis. You never needed someone like him. A bodyguard should have been the least of your concerns. Besides, you have enough people monitoring your every move that getting a fucking bodyguard is as insane as it’s going to get. Cor often reminds you that this is all for your safety, and that as your manager, he only wants to keep you safe. Aranea chastises you that you’re overreacting, and that you’re still free as a bird. Except you’re as free as any bird locked in a cage that they might as well just lock you up in prison.

And in the first few hours that Ignis has started following you around, the fact that he hardly spares you a moment for a decent conversation—except for his courteously clipped responses like “Let me know if you need anything else,” or “I’ll be right outside your door”—prison seems like a more amiable place to be.

By his second week, Ignis finally understands how unpredictable you can be.

Okay, maybe he does not understand it quite fully. He has to admit, though: he admires the elaborate effort you put into your juvenile pranks. It comes in the strangest of ways and in the oddest of days: from your attempts to lock him up inside your trailer, down to that crafty disguise to sneak out of the film set, all of which he had seen you fail miserably time and again. Out of all your many crimes, petty they may be, hopping in the backseat of someone else’s car to escape him from an after party still takes the cake. He had to forcefully “borrow” a stranger’s motorcycle just to chase you down, which he managed to do in less than an hour. Not an impressive feat for someone his calibre, but at least he got you home in one piece—and without Cor or Aranea even knowing.

What fuels your sheer determination to drive him off his wits, Ignis does not know. The only thing he knows for sure is that you’re one bloody piece of work.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn ya, Specs,” Gladio reminds Ignis one sordid afternoon back in the Lucian Security Bureau HQ. In the saintly cleanliness that is his cubicle, he finds Gladio lounging on his seat together with Nyx, as if they had been expecting his unlikely visit. The air-conditioned hustle remains the same, the glass panels and all the white walls still as stark bright as Ignis remembers it to be. He really has been away for far too long that he finds himself missing that familiar scent of ink and paper, and even the faces of these two troublemakers.

“So how’s your new post treatin’ you?” Nyx breezily asks. His tone is not of concern, but a knowing amusement that Ignis can easily recognize. “The look on your face says you’re either in need of a stiff drink or to get laid.”

“Or could be both,” Gladio adds.

Actively ignoring the smug looks on his friends’ faces, Ignis does not answer them, but instead, he asks: “Aren’t the both of you supposed to be somewhere else?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” Gladio snaps back. He picks up Ignis’s tin of mints on his table and pops one on his mouth.

Nyx loops an arm around Ignis. “Y’know, celebrities can be a pain, so if you’re here to request Clarus for a reassignment, we promise not to judge.”

Ignis looks at Nyx for a brief moment. A reassignment. How come he never thought of that? Sure, you can be annoying and a menace to his daily routine, but Ignis suddenly finds it strange that he has never considered the prospect of requesting for a change in client. Maybe he has his brand of patience to thank for, or his unworldly forbearance in the years that he has spent in this profession.

But then—as if by seeing Nyx and Gladio after such a long time of being away—he realizes that maybe, you’re not that bad. Even in your reckless and determined attempts of making his life a living hell, you also make an effort to make conversation. Not that it’s anything special. He has been wired to being strictly on someone’s beck and call that most of his past clients do not even bother to look at him in the eye. Most of them see him as a weapon, a blade to be wielded against their enemies. Small wonder Ignis himself often forgets that he is a living and breathing person. He can barely remember having a life outside this job. He can barely remember the last time someone apart from Gladio and Nyx asking him anything about his hobbies or other interests or even about his family.

But you do. You try. Even on the first few days when Ignis didn’t know how to respond. It’s just that he doesn’t know how to. He fears that you might have interpreted that as indifference, and he regrets to have responded to you as such. He thought you would have given up by now, seeing how he had acted so callously, but you have the persistence of a honey badger that you use on him to get him to talk, or to even to smile a little.

Nyx looks at Ignis, this time with a genuine hint of concern. Ignis has not realized that he had been quiet for some time.

But he has realized that you have grown so much on him, which is such an disturbing thought to entertain.

“I think a reassignment is highly unnecessary,” Ignis says finally—almost to himself and not to Nyx and Gladio—as he takes his leave.

By his second week, you finally understand how Ignis can be so predictable.

There’s the matter of his morning routine. He follows it too religiously that you start to notice the little things. He wakes up as early as six a.m.—on the dot, not even a minute late—to work out at the back of your trailer. Three sets of push ups, squats, crunches, all in that order. Seven-thirty a.m., he wraps up, takes a shower, grabs a nice cup of coffee with some of the film crew. He likes his coffee strong and black, no sugar. How you know all of this like the same way you know all of your lines is beyond you.

But maybe he’s not too predictable. Not entirely.

You still have not seen him smile, despite the significant progress in the conversation department. And by significant, you mean that his answers have finally upgraded from one-word responses to lengthy sentences. Considering all the stupid shit you pulled on him, it’s almost a wonder that he even indulges you from time to time by answering any of your random questions.

Though in the process, you have learned a handful of tidbits about his life. For one, you find out that he happens to be an excellent cook. Once, he has shared with you how he wanted to build a restaurant of his own, and that it is only a matter of time before he could pursue that dream. Hearing him confide something that personal throws you off guard, but somehow, you feel quite relieved. You also learn that he has never seen any of your films, nor is he even aware of your awards and accolades—which, frankly, is the most gratifying thing you have ever heard in your life. You have also learned that he has not forgiven you for making him chase you all throughout the city. Which is fair. If that had happened with any of your previous bodyguards, they would not even bother sparing you another word even if you are the last person on this planet, and they would most certainly quit their job the next day.

But Ignis is different. A good kind of different.

Nevertheless, what you now find unfair is that you have never seen him smile. Unfair because he has seen yours a countless times at this point—fake ones on set included. He even gets a bonus because he has also seen you laugh at the most ridiculous things. Ignis, however, seems to be programmed with a limited range of emotions. You have not seen his face look anything but blank or bored, too surly or too serious.

It is only when you suddenly fall sick in the middle of filming that you find a new expression on his face.

Right after the director screams “Cut!” you wobble outside the set, past the cameramen, past the make up artists, past Aranea who’s probably busy handling your next schedule. When Ignis hurries by your side, you could barely focus your eyes. Your mouth tastes like acid. The world is spinning out of control.

Ignis presses the back of his hand to your forehead. “You’re burning up. I’m calling a doctor—”

“No, don’t.” You weakly wave a hand. “I’ll be fine by morning. Don’t tell Aranea. I just need to sleep, that’s all.”

Ignis walks you back to your trailer, looping your arm around his neck, and his around your waist. Your cheek momentarily rests against his chest, and you can feel his warm breath fanning over your head. You try your best not to retch on his shirt. Perhaps it’s the fever talking, but all you could think about is how this shirt looks perfect on him and you do not want to ruin it with your vomit.

Which is why out of your delirious haze, you say out of the blue: “Have I ever told you that you look so good in black?”

Ignis tilts his head. He hesitates for a moment, and then says, “I’m afraid not.”

“Well, now you know. I like your black dress shirt. You look so dapper in it.” And there goes your filter straight out the window.

“Thank you. It’s… nothing special.” He sounds unsure. Or is that embarrassment? Either way, you’re too sick to even look at his face to see his reaction.

Ignis guides you straight to your bed. You toss yourself so gracelessly against the mattress, and you gather the sheets to bundle up for warmth. A wave of nausea threatens to lurch out of your mouth. As far as you’re concerned, the inside of your trailer should not be this freezing cold.

“I’ll get you something to eat,” Ignis says, and as he prepares to drift to the kitchen, you grab for his hand.

“Please stay for a minute. Tell me a story.” You sound like a five-year-old.

He sits on the edge of the bed. “What kind of story?” His voice is gentler than usual. It is jarring, to say the least.

You pull yourself up, your arm brushing against his. “Like, is it possible that you’re a gremlin? ‘Cause how come it’s so hard to—” you thumb the corners of his mouth to make him smile— “see you do this?”

You can feel his face tremble a little in your touch. He looks at you strangely. You know he’s about to say something, but you are ill-prepared to what happens next.

Ignis starts to laugh.

You can’t believe this is what you have been missing for the last couple of days. What you have been missing your entire life. You have only known him for two weeks, but now, it’s like looking at a completely different person. He’s all lit up, his laughter radiating like the sun, bright and warm and blinding. His eyes disappear behind his smile lines, and his mouth curves to exhibit his perfect teeth and that illegally gorgeous smile. Your heart is pounding and you are certain that this is not your fever doing the talking anymore.

“I can assure you, I’m not a gremlin,” he says, wiping his eye with his hand.

“Good to know,” you say, sinking back to your pillows. “But I swear—I will make you laugh like that again when I get better,” you say confidently. And as you drift to deep sleep, the sound of his laughter is the last thing you hear.

The third month arrives and Ignis sees you a little differently.

Different in a way that your smile is now a bullet to his heart. Your laughter, a drug. Your kiss, a secret he would forever keep. Not only have you grown on him, but you have made a home inside his body. His mind, your temple. You have seduced his empty heart, and now it is beating only for you.

But if there’s anything Ignis knows by now, it’s that good things always come to an end. They always do. And he knows better. He knows you aren’t for him, and he isn’t for you.

The third month sweeps you off your feet as Aranea enters your trailer with a new man in tow. At first, you think he is one of the new actors with the way he carries himself with an air of confidence, but you immediately recognize the logo on his jacket.

The first thing that leaves your mouth is: “Where’s Ignis?”

Aranea’s mouth twists. She hesitates, then says, “Ignis quit. Told me he found a new job. Nyx here would be his replacement.”

Your heart plummets. The expression on your face might have been so fucking obvious because Aranea casts you a worried glance, and so does this Nyx. He looks slightly uncomfortable with the way you skate your narrowed eyes at him, as if he has no right to be in your breathing space. As if he has no right at all to ever replace Ignis.

“I can see that you’re upset with this change,” Nyx begins to say, quickly regaining his charming composure, “but by 'quit,' it means he has left to pursue a different career path. Doesn’t mean he left you—I mean, for another client, that is.”

A simmering silence. Aranea and Nyx are watching you with growing alarm. You don’t know why, but something in you breaks.

You force yourself to smile, but it’s not very convincing. Some actor you are. And in the most modulated voice you could muster, you say, “Good for him then.” To Nyx, you say, “Do send him my regards when you see him around.”

As soon as Ignis pulls over your apartment building, you climb out of his car, weaving past another throng of paparazzi. Someone yells “Congrats on another blockbuster! Is this your new boyfriend?” and a couple of other things that only grates your ears. Ignis is quick to follow, and he shields you with his body as he leads you inside the lobby. Probably his force of habit, but it only unearths a memory of a good time that has already hollowed you out.

When the two of you reach the front door of your apartment, he finally breaks the silence. “I’m assuming you have Nyx trapped in some dark alley?”

“No, not really,” you say flatly. “He actually let me go on my own. Cooler than my previous bodyguard, if you ask me.”

“How convenient.”

“So, sous chef to the illustrious Weskham Armaugh, huh.”

“Indeed.”

“Now, care to explain to me why you really left without even saying a word? Especially to me?” There is a tremor that breaks your voice, and his smile slowly creases to a frown. “Is that it? Was that your grand plan? Make me fall in love with you and then just go up and leave—”

“I beg your pardon?” Ignis looks mystified, as if you have said something completely ludicrous. He stares at you for a long, scalding moment. “What did you just say?”

You scoff. “Are you kidding me right now? I said…”

The realization dawns on you in a slow unravel. Before you can even formulate an explanation, Ignis steals your breath away with a kiss. You have done this before in the confines of your trailer, but this time is different. This time, the feeling is no longer secret.

“You have absolutely no idea how I’ve wanted to do that this time around,” he says with a smile. And when he tells you I love you, he does not mean I love you regardless of or I love you despite, but rather I love you just because I do.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #fanfic #ignis scientia #older!ignis scientia #ignis x reader #older!ignis x reader #my writing #good things come in threes and on this one i've made myself a favourite new trio

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shenmeizhuang-blog · 6 years ago

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update: dramas + personal stuff

I’m finally back in the States and have free access to Tumblr! Yay! That said, I’ll probably be updating far less frequently in the next six months or so, mostly because of academia (sobs) but there’s also a bit more on that under the cut, if you guys are interested.

More “relevant” to my drama-watching Tumblr, I ended up not watching anything while in China. Oh well? But coming back, I dropped Sweet Dreams mostly due to lack of time (and how sort of pointless it is, anyway). After I finish 假如没有遇见你, these are the shows that I hope to get to, this year:

Burning Ice 无证之罪

Hello Dear Ancestors 亲爱的活祖宗

Yanxi’s Conquest/The Story of Yanxi’s Palace 延禧攻略 (dude but everyone Chinese in my circle is obsessing over this)

Ashes of Love/Heavy Sweetness, Ash-like Frost (it’s really really well-received)

Bloody Romance 媚者无疆

The Rise of Phoenixes

Secret of the Three Kingdoms

My Ahjusshi

Unnatural

Miss Sherlock

I doubt I have the time to actually get to all of the ones above this year because I will be busy (and one day Ruyi will come out, and I will watch it even if it’s like 90 eps long), but I will prioritize watching those. And then here are some others I might check out (this year?):

Martial Universe

continue 给我一个十八岁

Destiny of White Snake (I already know it’s mostly good acting + pointless angst, but I have too much love for certain actors)

Life on Mars

Mother (Korean + Japanese)

Lost in 1949 (again, I can already see how the plot is at best “meh,” but Chen Kun and Wan Qian...*cries*)

Caught in the Heartbeat

Sand Sea

S.C.I.谜案集

And these are only things that have already been released (this year, excluding Burning Ice). :D

Something I’ve noticed is that most of the time the shows that I end up loving aren’t exactly the ones I spend months anticipating, but stuff that gets attention...somehow.

Anyway, anyway, onto my “personal” spiel under the cut:

I’m a dumb person and got into a long-distance relationship! \^o^/

I think it counts as a whirlwind relationship because a lot happened in freaking less than two weeks (*giggles*). But it felt so natural too, so coming back to watch dramas, I’m really all, “I personally had the better experience.” \^o^/

It’s definitely rather grating, to have to leave when we’re technically at our most passionate stage, but we’ve been video-chatting every day so far. I know and have heard of how long distance usually doesn’t work—mostly because of academic stress, which both of us have plenty of. D:

But I also think he’s definitely the best so far (okay, isn’t that what everyone thinks in a new relationship?), and right now I’m in that stage of love and euphoria, so don’t mind me.

(Um...basically I have considerably less time to watch and blog about dramas, but we’ll see.)

#updates #normally i dont post personal stuff #and it's not the sad type i'm used to reading #but yeah #if you guys are interested #elvis han looks like 30% like him??#\^O^/

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barbecuedphoenix · 7 years ago

Photo

(To read the full analysis, hit the blue ‘Photo’ button on the side of this post.)

When I picked this quote for Leiftan 2 months ago, I had no idea just how appropriate it might be. 0_o

Seeing that we have an elf, a vampire, and a faery-blood barbarian as potential love interests in the game, why would we want some obscure moon-child to round out the cast? Give us a straight-up demon. Sorry, I mean, ‘aengel’.

At any rate, with the latest revelations of this not-lorialet’s not-so-sweet side, I’ve made a few adjustments to all Leiftan-centric pieces on this blog, as well as to the group requests that feature him. If you’re interested, take a look. :) (Hint: he’s usually the fourth and/or last entry for group requests; those pieces are long, so feel free to skip straight to the good stuff.)

Analyses:

What would be their ideal partner?

Headcanons:

Cafe AU

Open Relationships, Part 2

Police Department AU, Part 1

Leiftan, from A - Z (C, E, S, X) [NSFW]

Leiftan, from A - Z (I, V, Z) [NSFW]

Leiftan’s Kinks [NSFW]

Scenarios:

How to seduce a clueless Guardian [NSFW]

What makes them jealous, and how they’ll react

Granted, I’m still a long ways away from playing Episode 17, so most of the information on Leiftan’s new Jekyll-and-Hyde persona was pulled from the spoilers that other players released on Tumblr. Thank you all for your reactions. ^_^

In fact, here’s mine: now I’m dusting off my poor, neglected Spanish account and speed-running through a Leiftan route. Because I think his story has gotten 2 magnitudes more interesting. And I don’t believe he is a full-blown psychopath.

Don’t shoot me as a Leiftan fan-girl. Let me explain.

True, he’s a seasoned actor with serious personal issues and a long-term scheme that’s bound to be bloody. But he does have a functional personality and moral compass of his own, even if they are subducted by a grim vendetta during that final scene in Ep. 17. (This would put him within, if not on the edge, of the sociopath class of mentally-unbalanced individuals: anti-social, deceptive, and amoral, but not thoroughly-malicious, controlling, and predatory like psychopaths.)

The main reason I believe this not-lorialet is not a psychopath: he has a functional love-o-meter. You can gain or lose approval depending on your personal responses to him, and/or the opinions you privately express about the Guard… and his reactions to you don’t often correspond to his long-term aims or how easily you give into him.

For example:

In Ep. 9, you can lose approval by trying to be optimistic about Mery’s chances when he disappears (at which Leiftan’s emotional responses will shut down). If you meet Leiftan later in the day and criticize his ongoing concern for Mery, his approval will drop still lower. The sympathetic response, in both cases, nets approval.

Again in Ep. 9, he gets (naturally) ticked-off if you call his familiar ‘difficult to handle’, but becomes really grateful if you tell him the damage is minimal (or are blunt in informing him how the little fiend woke you up).

If he’s your mission partner for clearing Yvoni’s ashes in Ep. 10, he’ll disapprove if you a.) refuse his help in recovering from your inglorious trip, and b.) get melodramatic and declare that Yvoni’s clearing has been devastated. For both cases, he’ll react happily if you offer jokes instead to lighten the mood; he’ll even briefly join you in goofing off and sitting down on the forest floor (though at the clearing, he’ll make an ominous comment on how destruction is just another form of creation.)

After clearing Yvoni’s ashes in Ep. 10 (accompanied by him or someone else), you can earn his censure if you refuse to discuss the mission honestly with him (that you both may have shared). Or if you went alone after he refused to accompany you, he’ll express concern at how you entered the forest alone. And will be far from thrilled if you blame him for refusing in the first place, or grow skeptical once he starts flirting.

For that same situation in Ep. 10, he’ll actually be flattered if you turn the conversation around and inquire about him instead. Even though he dodges the question and offers a short uninformative spiel about work, you’ll still see a rise in his approval.

Later on in Ep. 10, after your nightmare on Yvoni’s return, Leiftan will approve if you acknowledge your haggard appearance with a little joke. Whereas lying through your teeth on how you are nets his disapproval.

In Ep. 11, Leiftan won’t be ecstatic if you lecture him for skipping meals, whereas he’ll be grateful if you offer to share your lunch-breaks with him and chaperone him to make sure he eats.

After returning from Balenvia in Ep. 12, Leiftan will approve if you again apply a little sarcasm in admitting you’re upset, and disapproves if you refuse to tell him anything (when you are clearly upset).

And then there are some responses from past episodes that really raise some eyebrows on the principles he might value, especially now that we know his real roots and antipathy to the Guard:

In Ep. 8, you actually lose approval by criticizing the Guard’s level of organization for mission debriefs, and he’ll tersely admit that they’re doing what they can. Telling him instead that you enjoy making reports earns his approval. (My guess: he’s anal-retentive he appreciates organization, and people who respect a level of organization. Regardless of where they all happen to be working.)

Before the third and final recon mission in Ep. 9, Leiftan will disapprove if you tell him that you’re not thinking too much about the assignment, but he keeps his outward response minimal and wishes you good luck. (My interpretation: he doesn’t think highly of literal-minded agents who don’t question the system.)

In Ep. 13, after he tells you his alleged race, he actually gets disappointed if you call lorialets ‘selenites’, but approves if you keep your guess open-ended, and let him explain. (My assumption: he’s still anal-retentive he respects people who don’t misuse names, or casually throw around labels.)

Now if Leiftan’s emotional reactions from past episodes are all part of a ploy, if he’s a manipulative psychopath to the core whose only ambition is to witness the Guard burn, then he wouldn’t strongly approve or disapprove of any of your responses to him. He would have to show approval or disapproval to maintain his guise in the Light Guard, but his love-o-meter shouldn’t actually respond; that’s his emotional barometer, and if he has the emotional depth of a puddle (or a psychopath, colloquially-speaking), then it would read as a flat 0, or close to it.

So in practice, if Leiftan has no lasting sympathy or ethical system (which are the calling cards of a psychopath), his emotional reaction to others would be largely restricted to contempt. He wouldn’t internally respond to your changes in health, wellbeing, or safety, or the danger that finds young children. He wouldn’t be much affected by jokes, or displays of your concern/interest/consideration for him. He wouldn’t care one whit on the damage (or lack thereof) that Amaya causes for others. He wouldn’t bat an eyelid if you’re a thoughtful agent. Altogether, he wouldn’t care what you say or do, so long as you’re an easy victim.

In short, if Leiftan was written in advance as a traitor with no conscience or lasting empathy, then his approval system should be completely nonexistent. Or skewed to only respond-- shallowly-- to how easily you defer to him.

As Leiftan fans prior to Ep. 17 can tell you, that’s not the case.

Now I doubt Chi no Miiko and team would stick us with a fake love-o-meter for thirteen episodes (not including the first three). That will be pushing it when it comes to ‘trolling’ players, who’ll then have the right to consider if other love-o-meters are rigged. It’ll be more constructive for the team to instead foster more love triangles and expand the Leiftan fanbase with a route that is guaranteed potentially tragic. Starring a fourth LI who isn’t flat-out evil (which isn’t relatable anyway), but a troubled adversary who guards his heart carefully (which will satisfy both the original fans of ‘sweet’ Leiftan and those who’re now asking ‘will I die if I bang a demon?’).

And let’s not forget that this is the same game company that-- in MCL-- had you stand up to sexual aggressor Evan and (momentarily) dump his groupie Kentin. Even with genre and demographic differences, would they allow you to keep a quasi-crush option on a pure psychopath? Personally, that also smells like an abusive relationship to me.

Granted, Leiftan is definitely no angel. (Sorry, Leif; not with those eyes and horns.) All the others in the Light Guard should take notes from him on how to live a spectacular lie. And some of his actions cast doubt on why he approves of your trust in him: how much of it is because he benefits emotionally from your trust, and how much is because he can confirm that you’ll be less of an obstruction. But the rest of Leiftan’s behavior to you-- which results in quantitative drops or rises in his personal affinity, and thus demonstrates a value system-- falls outside the neat binary of “Hero of the Guard” / “Nemesis of the Guard”. And because of that, it doesn’t strike me as fair to paint him as simply a harbinger of evil who deserves an appointment with Mr. Constantine. More like a very flawed, very troubled man intent on catalyzing a storm in this life as the last demon left in the realm, but underdogs and/or crushes can still inspire the tenderness and protectiveness he once held in full as a boy.

Plenty of clues to his humanity (so to speak) have been dropped in the past, and a lot of questions left on his future. But personally, I don’t think it hurts to be optimistic with Beemov and this raven-winged aengel. ;)

For a little more general information on psychopathy and sociopathy, check out these articles:

What’s the difference between psychopaths and sociopaths?

How do psychopaths’ brains differ?

Do psychopaths genuinely lack empathy?

#Eldarya #motivationals #noncanon quotes #Leiftan #character analysis #Episode 17 spoilers #psychology

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astro-zomby · 7 years ago

Text

Don't take your spouse for granted.

Note: this is a rant, tumblr is the only site that I won't be igniting drama in my life if I vent.

I understand that relationships aren't perfect, and when you move in together, things change. You're not missed because you're always close by. You lose touch in the sense that they already know what happened (they were probably there), so you don't need to say anything. Going out to get dinner is mundane, because (hopefully) you eat dinner everyday. It can be discouraging, I know.

Moving in together can be fun and maybe even convienient. But sometimes that is short lived once life becomes mundane.

You don't feel nearly as special. You're just a fixture. Sometimes, you don't feel wanted.

But maybe one day, something finally fractures. A bright light fights its way in. It's an epiphany, you may have to chip away at it to see the full story. Or sometimes, it's an infected open wound. You have to make critical decisions that can affect your life dramatically in the long run.

I came to experience this on December 31st, 2017.

Let me preface this by saying that I acknowledge that I am not perfect nor is my partner. We are human beings, we both suffer from mental illnesses, but I guess we are doing the best we can...

As some may be aware of, because they have gone through it, depression can cause the simplest things to become overwhelming. Cleaning becomes a very difficult task on most days.

I felt awful that day, just the passing year was hard to deal with, and the thought of a new year filled me with dread. As far back as I can remember, I haven't been okay. Why would 2018 be different? My partner decides he is going to have people over, I'm not enthused about it, I merely give him the spiel about 'not feeling well' (read: I'm feeling deeply depressed today, I need space). It's something I had to adopt to keep the arguments at bay. Additionally, I tell him to keep it down to a reasonable noise level. This is a common thing as I usually have to be up at 4 a.m. for work.

Anyway, my partner has a tendency to nitpick and hover over me when I clean. When the mood does strike me, I make sure I am alone when I clean. It is difficult to stay motivated when you get picked apart on how to do something because it's not done a specific way. He began nitpicking about how I could stand to be cleaner, which yeah, I can agree with. Although, the same can be said for him. I spend 90% of my time at home in the bedroom alone because I usually only get 2.5 hours of me time after work before I need to be asleep. This means I rarely get to use other parts of the house, but that's only part of it.

Our living room is usually a write off. We have a room mate to help supplement bills, but that's because I can't afford to foot all the bills myself. Because of my partner's anger issues, he can rarely hold down a job. This means I usually take any overtime I can get, resulting in me being socially isolated because I am far too busy and exhausted all the time. Hopefully, if you don't already know, you never have yo experience what it's like to be constantly on the verge of being evicted.

I digress, back to the rant.

Our room mate is not a very tidy person. He works 4 hours per day, usually late shifts, in a kitchen. It can be a high stress job, I've learned that first hand. He usually ends up sleeping for like 16 hours a day. But, that's his business. I used to work 2 part time jobs at minimum wage to keep myself afloat. I know all too well how stressful that aspect is, it can cause irregular sleeping. At that point, I could sleep for 20 hours straight if no one stopped me. On top of that, our room mate is fairly into pot, mushrooms and molly. Again, whatever. It's his life so I will leave him be.

But that's hard to do when the living room is covered in pot, tobacco and shrooms all the time. The coffee table is disgusting because it's layer up layer of poppers. The couch smells like b.o. There is always garbage left on the couch, table and floor.

My partner has now found someone to encourage this kind of behaviour. Smoking pot all day, doing mushrooms on the weekends and drinking whenever possible. They take up all the space on the couch, always use the tv and Xbox (which I bought him). I haven't watched tv in about 6 months because of this.

I will openly say, I am not one for this life style. I believe you should get to unwind every now and then, but if your spouse is working themselves ragged to keep themselves afloat and you fed, take notice.

Again, I digress.

On New Year's Eve, he was taking such a toll on me by berating me for being so lazy (read: exhausted from working). I had to sit down and breath, I was on the verge of tears, so I silently went to gather myself. He then stormed into the room and began yelling at me for getting overwhelmed by the simplest tasks. I explained that I didn't feel that I should have to clean the living room because I never get to use it. He didn't take to kindly to that and exploded. I feel like this one is pretty perspective based. When I sobbed loudly and began crying because he raised his voice at me, he stomped off and began talking to himself. He was saying things like, "like it's so fucking hard to keep the house clean!", or "You don't have a mental illness, you're just a slob", or my favourite was "stop ramming your mental illness down my throat!".

I just curled up in a ball on the bed as the insults and yelling began. I lay on the bed while every word weighted me down.

"The only reason I'm still in this relationship is because I have abandonment issues."

"I have to do everything!"

"You're faking it. There's nothing wrong with you."

"You don't know what numb is."

"I've had it worse, so there's no way you're actually depressed."

The list goes on.

But at some point, he would say nice things but then devalue it by tearing it apart.

At one point, he stated that we were done.

And honestly, I felt like there was a weight lifted. Sure, I felt crappy still. But there was that small sliver of light that found me. He even told me that I could have the room while he took the couch until I got my shit out.

However, not five minutes later, he returned. Crying about how I can't leave him. That's when I felt so obligated to stay. I told him that I would seek counselling through the CMHA and we would work to rectify the issue.

Now, here I am. Roughly a month later, and it still haunts me that I stayed. I'm still here, but everyday I fantasize about life without him. I fantasize about meeting someone new, someone who would appreciate the way I work so hard to get ahead, the way I make dinner, the way I want to snuggle into them, the way I bring them coffee in the morning.

I regret staying.

Fundamentally, I just want to be appreciated. Sometimes, I find myself fantasizing about a domestic life with a stranger who should me an ounce of kindness. I fantasize about relationships where I can wake up next to someone happily more than I fantasize about sex with strangers. And honestly, I think that is far more alarming.

I shared these thoughts with the counsellor. She thinks that I have many stresses in my life, but from the way I talk and break down everyone I talk about it, my relationship is the biggest factor. I have another appointment with my counsellor soon, she is going to see what mental illnesses are impeding me so I can work on them.

The strongest words that have stayed with me from her is the validation that I am suffering from depression (and possibly a mild mood disorder). I kept repeating myself about "I don't know if I actually have depression or if I've convinced myself that I do". I appreciate so much that she confirmed that I am not crazy, I literally cried with relief.

But, in the wake of the demise of my relationship, I think there are some things that should be said.

If you have an s/o, take sometime to appreciate the small things they do.

Pet their hair, let them listen to your heart beat

Kiss them at the most random times

Let them wrap their arms around you so they know you're still there

Wrap your arms around them to let them know you're always there

Sweet kisses on the forehead go a long, long way

Sex shouldn't make anyone feel like a chore

With that being said, sex requires a warm up (i.e. foreplay)

Don't be afraid to hold their hand whenever and wherever the mood strikes you

Don't let them be afraid to tell you things, don't let them suffer in silence

(My personal favourite) let them fall asleep holding your hand

Good morning texts go a long way

#mental health day #ranting #lonely #disconnected #rise above #dont take your spouse for granted

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dynamics-of-an-asteroid · 7 years ago

Note

I really would like to know your opinion about Sherlolly and Molliarty 💕

My opinion on Sherlolly grew as my opinions on fandom politics thankfully matured cause it’s really easy to make assumptions about M/F ships since typically they’re filled with everything Progressive Fandom supposedly hates.

But what I’ve come to realize is that Progressive Fandom is kind of full of shit.

It says one thing (“we want better material for this female character!”), but then proceeds to do the complete opposite (takes a male background character with exceedingly less material and creates mountains of fanworks to the point where even the creators start giving him more screen time over the female character). It’ll come up with all these tl;dr think pieces that seek to blame some other outside sources as to why this keeps happening (“men are just written better!”, “there’s just more male characters to choose from statistically!”, etc.), but there’s really no denying which types of ships and characters and dynamics and narratives it actually values when you see what kind of content dominates creative spaces that no one is controlling except the fans.

So I realized a lot of my “concerns” were just the result of theoretically wanting the most subversive conceptualization for the ship as any good Progressive Fandom member prides itself on seeking, but then falling in to the same traps that reinforce a very biased hierarchy Progressive Fandom measures everything by and upholding ridiculous standards that I wasn’t holding everyone else to.

For example, I’ve done the typical “pOoR mOlLy :(( sHE dEseRveS bEttEr tHaN sHerLOcK” spiel everyone seems to say after watching ASIB since that scene is meant to elicit a reaction. She very clearly was in love with him and particularly series 1 & 2 Sherlock, despite whatever good he was doing or moments of ~humanity~ he had, was overall a pretty rude, abrasive dick. He wasn’t this way just to her, but Molly is a legitimately decent person on a show full of assholes so there was some part of me that wanted to protect that, you know?

However, my reaction shouldn’t have been “Wow, Molly deserves better than Sherlock”, it should have been “Molly deserved better from Sherlock because she deserves common fucking decency.” Her unwavering love for him is always considered a problem that needs to be either removed entirely or given to someone else more deserving. It’s never Sherlock’s behavior that’s the problem that needs to get checked because Progressive Fandom doesn’t typically criticize male characters for their actions. You excuse, you explain, you apologize, but you don’t with any kind of negative intention seek to frame their reaction in any given situation as the part that’s wrong. The feelings of white dudes are valued over everything and everyone.

So my reaction of “come on, Molly, let’s get out of here and find you someone better” sounds noble, but all I’m really saying is “Well he’s an ass and we can’t do anything about that, but your crush on him is definitely fixable!” Again, she’s not the problem here, her love for him is not the problem here. He is the problem here, his rudeness is the problem here. There’s absolutely something we can do to fix that and we know this because part of his character arc was about becoming warmer and kinder. “Molly deserves better” is such an empty, meaningless statement when you really get in to it and I cringe every time I see it now.

Plus, something I’ve noticed that seems to be exclusive to the ship is most people in fandom ship one of these characters with Sherlock or are invested in a dynamic that includes him in it. And I guarantee you there’s a scene or a moment or a line that Sherlock was the source of that you had to go fix with fic or meta or some AU gif set or something because you wouldn’t still care about it if you didn’t. He’s done some pretty horrendous shit to these characters that far surpasses what he did with Molly at the Christmas party. But we’re not saying poor John he deserves better (hell we’re not even saying poor Sherlock he deserves better), we’re not saying poor Mycroft he deserves better, or that poor little Lestrade deserves better. It’s always poor Molly, specifically, because Progressive Fandom isn’t about to micro-comb through her material like they do with male characters in order to flesh her out more and find ways to make her a person of equally nuanced value to Sherlock. Then it would be easier to see why he’d extend more than just common courtesy to her, which lays the foundation for potentialness (specifically romance cause no one is gonna flip their shit about friendship), and now you’re sighing in agony about having to deal with a love interest - and worst of all - yet another M/F ship existing.

And listen, I get it - M/F ships have everything and it’s obnoxious. They get the coveted title of being “most likely to happen”, they get all the exposure, all the juicy arcs, all the cast conversations when it comes to their expressions of sex and love and romance being treated as completely plausible and entirely normal, etc. But when Progressive Fandom notoriously doesn’t produce nor consume F/F media let alone at the same rates as M/M media, when Progressive Fandom deeming a female character “too awesome/independent for romance” is basically a death sentence in spaces where romance and pairing up characters is the name of the game - what are people supposed to do with Molly that doesn’t decrease her visibility or sideline her entirely in the name of what? Making sure heteronormativity doesn’t happen? Cause looking at tumblr’s most popular M/M ships that are full of exceedingly harmful gendered stereotypes about the characters then being further conceptualized in to gross top/bottom discourse among other issues, that pesky problem of not reinforcing heteronormativity shouldn’t fall solely on M/F ships cause they’re not the only ones perpetuating it.

From what I can tell, Sherlolly shippers are the only people placing her in multiple kinds of dynamics and narratives that seek to explore the depth of her character without treating all of her material with Sherlock like a joke or a predicament that must be changed (which is different from fixing some bumps or gaps or straight up missteps that may be present, and there are some, but no one is denying that). Sometimes it’s a reversal of expectations, sometimes it’s not, and that’s pretty standard summary of any ship in fandom, really. You don’t have to like what they’re doing, but the door is always open for these diverse, inclusive stories Progressive Fandom wants so badly to be brought to the table yet I get the feeling they won’t be walking through it any time soon.

so tl;dr - the ship isn’t bothering me and any faux-criticisms I had about it in the past I can easily say about other ships, including my own, so it’s not fair to condemn one but then bolster another with the same elements. As long as they aren’t engaging in anything harmful or pushing any Ists, Isms, and Phobias, which they aren’t, I’m cool.

And I’m not even gonna lie, I could not stand Molliarty in the beginning stages of fandom.

I hated how Jim from I.T. was treated as a separate person from Jim Moriarty just to give Molly a cuter and more fun version of him to continue dating (to be fair, this ship isn’t the only one that did this, [don’t even get me started on the Richard Brook\twin thing omfg], but I loathed this trend regardless of who did it more cause particularly with Jim everyone would always push the ‘we don’t know anything about his private life!!’ excuse to justify wildly ooc shit [and still do to this day]).

I hated that narrative of Molly ~softening~ monstrous beast!Jim with her kindness and in return he became obsessed with having her love him, but she couldn’t cause he’s a bad person or whatever, so he’d protect her until his dying days instead (I recognize the trope, I personally can’t stand that trope, but I still don’t understand why it was applied to this dynamic).

I hated all the creepy undertones in a lot of the really early fanworks that were like “come with me little girl and you’ll never be hurt again” (look, MY ships are capable of creepy undertones, but particularly with this ship it felt more like an impending sense of doom that Molly was getting herself in to a really skeevy, fucked p situation which is gross).

I hated with a goddamn passion that still consumes me to this day that Little Red Riding Hood/Big Bad Wolf aesthetic cause it’s just piggybacking off what I just said of this lecherous devil ready to devour this unsuspecting and naive victim (as you can imagine I don’t like imbalanced dynamics so a lot of this one is just personal irritation too, but it still feels like you’re having to compromise their characters by bastardizing the shit out of them in order to get this to work).

I hated how Jim was treated like her sassy gay best friend who’d stay up at night watching Say Yes To The Dress with her and Toby, and gushing about cute boys when someone did a more platonic bff take on the ship (this was the biggest one for me because Andrew was walking a fine enough line as it was with Jim to not have everyone go ahead and throw his character into stereotype hell anyway and I hate most fanworks with Jim for this very reason, so again this problem isn’t exclusive to the ship).

And I hated how Molly tapping in to her inner darkness thanks to Jim awakening it somehow always took the form of her becoming sadistic and murderous to illustrate how strong she really is in an effort to put her on even footing with him so she’d get the love and respect and appreciation she wasn’t getting else where through being his faithful killing babe (besides having problems with women having to become badass and bloodthirsty in order to equal strength of any kind, the implication she can only be treated right through bad people is unsettling).

After making that list, I realized a lot of why I couldn’t stand it was tied to general misinterpretations of their characters that was floating around fandom, so putting those specific versions of them together to make a ship out of it was unforgivable to me. I’m gonna make an assumption here and say I’m willing to bet a lot of their earlier stuff wasn’t made by the shippers themselves and that it was people from other ships making material for it based off what they thought it was. So for all I know a lot of what I hated wasn’t even what the ship was about cause I know that’s the case for old stuff about my ships. None of us really had the numbers to change public opinion about how we perceived it, so there’s a lot of lingering misconceptions thanks to those works and I might have just listed all of them for Molliarty, I don’t know.

But a lot of this seems to have gone away now in any case? Not all of it, but it’s been replaced with lighter, more comical material which is still not the ballpark I’d personally place them in, but I’m not in that inner circle of shipping so I don’t know why it took that turn. They could be trying to counter fanon ideas surrounding the pairing, they could be trying to build up a more diverse selection of fanworks, I have no idea, but the ship doesn’t bother me in the same way it use to mostly because I’ve become too indfferent for most ships to even get a reaction from me anymore tbh

#this came out longer than expected #apologies if this somehow ends up in the mobile tag

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