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starry-bi-sky · 10 months

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i've mentioned in a few past posts about an au where Danny is a variant of Jason Todd. I haven't made a post about it yet because I need a good rhythm flowing however i've been listening to Gladiator by Jann and I have been having thoughts.

but first, let me set the au:

Danny Fenton is Jason Todd, or at least, a variant of him. A him from a universe separate to the major Batman timeline - but still Jason Todd, down to the structure of his face and his name itself. The only thing that changes, is who picks him up - and, that he follows old Batman canon, and was an orphan. Jason Todd steals the tires off the batmobile and wallops Batman with his tirejack, and then runs off. Shortly after, he gets picked up by the Fentons.

(Customary line break,,,, word count check: 5k)

And his name changes from Jason Todd to Danny Fenton. He doesn't care much for the new name change, it stems from his mute refusal to share his name to the people that picked him up; an attempt to make him untraceable should he get away from them, and to keep something of his to himself. So they name him something new. He grows to like it enough as he acclimates to his new family.

(He hangs onto the name Jason Todd like a secret - he may be 'Danny Fenton' now, but he'll never forget his time on Gotham's streets. He'll always be Jason Todd.)

(Jazz is the only one who he tells his name to in the family - she affectionately calls him Jay whenever she wants.)

He becomes friends with Sam and Tucker and deals with Dash and his bullying. And when Danny steps in during a fight between Dash and another student, Dash gives him a bleeding nose and mockingly says, "Do you think you're Robin just because you're from Gotham, Fenton?"

Jason looks him in the eyes and he bares his teeth, "Why not?" he asks, spitting blood, "being Robin gives me magic."

The nickname sticks. It's supposed to be an insult; Daniel Fenton is not Robin, he'll never be Robin. Not now, not in a million years. Jason Todd has always wanted to be Robin, so he takes the insult and wears it proudly. He buys a school varsity jacket and painstakingly undos the stitching of all the school's motif on it. On the breast of it, he embroiders in a black circle with the Boy Wonder "R" on it instead. It's not good stitching, but the next day Danny wears it down to breakfast and into school.

In normal au canon, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton (its a mouthful, just call him Danny) only meets the Waynes after he becomes Phantom - an event that leans more towards Daniel Fenton's accident than Jason Todd's death, but traumatizes him all the same. (Is it too much to want to be mourned? His best friends like to deny that he died - and Danny - Jason? - wishes they wouldn't, even if he did come back.)

(The accident embitters him, even more when his parents don't seem to pick up on it. He stops calling himself Danny Fenton - he's always been Jason Todd. It shows itself in his ghostly form. He doesn't want to wear the thing he died in, not in something that belongs to the Fentons, and his suit reflects that.)

In this timeline, Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton, aged 13, meets Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne after a mishap with magic on the other end of the reality sends the three of them careening through time and space, and spat back out on the other end, in a world not their own. And together.

Danny is paired with a very confused Bruce Wayne and Richard Grayson. Luckily, there's a few heroes there to help them. Danny can hardly comprehend the idea that he's in another universe - he doesn't know why Dick Grayson and Bruce Wayne are seemingly handling it well.

On their way to a secondary base with the heroes, Danny turns to Bruce Wayne and asks, "So, is it part of rich-person training that you're just totally chill with being sent into another universe, or are you just weird?"

Bruce Wayne huffs at him, rather than get offended, and he smiles that dumb lopsided billionaire smile that Danny's seen on every vogue magazine he's been in. "I'm not so worried with these skilled heroes here to help us get home."

Danny silently concludes that he's just weird. At least Dick Grayson is biting back a smile behind him. "Riiiight..." He says, dragging the vowel out dryly.

When they get to that secondary location -- a safehouse that one of the heroes had set up -- the three of them are sat in a living room-like room while one hero, Zatanna, goes and calls someone from the Justice League. The other two heroes stay with the three of them.

Within a few hours, Danny is face to face with Batman - someone who he hasn't seen since he whacked him in the stomach with a tire iron - and Nightwing. For a moment, Danny swears that the both of them look almost spooked by him.

Batman stares at him for a moment when he enters, and then he goes to speak with Bruce Wayne. Danny doesn't care enough to hear what they're talking about, he pulls out his phone as Nightwing goes to speak with Dick Grayson.

"Are you a fan of Robin, little man?" Someone says, and when Danny looks up he locks eyes with Dick Grayson -- who is leaning around Nightwing to talk to him, the both of them are smiling. And considering who Nightwing was, Danny finds himself turning pink to the ears.

But he will not hide his jacket. He forces a grin through his embarrassment, "Hell yeah, man, Robin's cool." He says, and pushes his arms down to pull out the hem of his letterman, showing off the emblem. "I made it m'self out of a school varsity after the A-Listers started callin' me Robin."

"A-Listers?"

"Popular kids," Danny corrects, loosing his hold on the hem and brushing invisible wrinkles out of the embroidery. "They didn't like that I kept stepping in when they were bullying. Dash asked me if i thought I was Robin because I was from Gotham."

Dick Grayson looks intrigued -- and concerned, and he leans forward onto his knees and raises an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

And Danny grins a shark-like thing, straightening back his shoulders with a burning sort of smug pride and all the sharpness of broken glass left in Crime Alley. "I told him being Robin gave me magic, and then I punched him."

Dick Grayson's smile widens, splitting into showing teeth as he leans back into his seat. Danny isn't sure why he's so delighted - but Nightwing looks incredibly amused, and he suddenly remembers that the Robin himself was there in front of him.

Danny's face burns anew and his arms fold themselves in front of him once again.

"I don't think I ever caught your name, Robin." Dick Grayson goes, his voice thick with laughter, and Nightwing steps off to the side as Batman and Bruce Wayne walk over to join them both. They're just close enough that Danny can see Bruce Wayne raise an eyebrow at them both.

"It's Jason." Danny says before he can think about it, and barely stops himself from frowning at himself for the slip. He amends himself, glancing over at Batman and Bruce as they get closer. "But everyone calls me Danny."

Dick Grayson's head recoils slightly, and he looks a little surprised. "Why Danny?" He asks.

"Why Dick?" He shoots back, and Bruce and Dick both smile at him, with Dick Grayson shrugging with an expression that looks like 'you've got a point.'

In the end, the three of them - yes, three - get sent to this world's Wayne Manor, and Danny is bewildered by that decision to include himself -- he's not a Wayne. Why not just send him to the Fentons?

Batman tells him that the Fentons don't exist in this world, and Danny falls silent. "Oh." He says quietly, a pit growing in his stomach with an ill-kind of dread. He can't keep Batman's gaze, looking away with unease.

No Fentons in this world. No Fentons. Where was he then, in the grand scheme of things? Where was he in this world? What happened to Jason Todd? Was he even alive? He can't keep the worry off his face, and he jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder. When he looks up, Dick Grayson squeezes him gently.

Dick Grayson is steadily beginning to remind him of his sister.

They end up driving back in the Batmobile. It's such a shock to Danny that he momentarily forgets the lack of Fentons. He makes a laugh sound, actually, and immediately he covers his hand with his mouth and stares at the car -- tank? with his teeth sunk into his lower lip.

"Jason?" Dick says, and hearing his name being spoken feels like someone touched him with a livewire. It's weird, it's foreign - he hates, in some way, that it's foreign - and it's so nice. Yes, that's me.

He drops his hand immediately. "Sorry." He says, realizing he'd stopped in his tracks, "I -uh, was just surprised."

"It's not every day someone sees the Batmobile." Dick agrees. Nightwing has his back to them but Danny swears he sees his shoulders shaking a little.

"Yeah," Danny nods slowly, dragging his eyes over the batmobile as Batman opens the driver's side and gets in. He thinks for a moment, of what he should say next - whether to admit that he's seen it before, or to pretend that he's seeing it for the first time. Snd as Nightwing opens the door for him, Bruce, and Dick, he chooses the funnier option; "The last time I saw it, I was stealing its tires."

To his surprise and unsurprise, Danny only gets two pairs of eyes on him. Nightwing gets into the passenger seat as both Bruce and Dick turn their gaze onto him; Dick's eyes big like they were going to bulge out of his head.

"You what!?"

So Danny tells an amazed Dick Grayson that he hit Batman with a tire iron after he stole his tires - something he is very proud about and also incredibly embarrassed about when he retells what happened in the backseat of the batmobile, with Batman and Nightwing listening in from the front seat.

(Bruce Wayne doesn't ever tell Dick shit, he's going to lord this over Bruce's head the moment they are alone.)

"Please tell me this didn't happen in this world." Danny groans behind his palms as he sinks into his seat. Dick Grayson is killing himself laughing on his left, and he saw Bruce Wayne stifling a smile before he obscured his vision with his hands.

Much to his luck, its Batman himself who speaks next, (Danny was being mostly rhetorical). "It did." He says, and his voice sounds like the rumble of the earth before a stampede. It will never not throw Danny off every time he hears it. "It takes quite a lot of spunk to steal the tires off the batmobile."

He can't believe it. Batman is making fun of him. Fucking, Batman.

He wants to die with embarrassment. He groans even louder as Dick Grayson's laughter crescendoes. Danny risks a peak through his fingers, he doesn't know whether to regret it or not because he can just barely see Batman smirk very faintly from his position in the middle.

(His world axis tilts five degree leftways seeing it; like someone dunked a bucket of ice water on him.)

"He ended up being adopted by the Bruce Wayne of this world."

Danny's hands drop with his jaw into his lap. Dick Grayson on his left chokes on his laughter and careens into a coughing fit. Bruce Wayne on his right chokes on air, and quickly recovers himself with a cough behind a closed fist.

"What?" Danny croaks.

Apparently, Bruce Wayne's family is much larger in this world than it is in his. Danny can barely wrap his head around the idea that he ends up adopted by the man, but now he has to learn that Wayne had several children in this world?

He's still not wrapped his head around it when the three of them wind up at Wayne Manor, finally, or even when he's standing in front of him himself. For his effort, Bruce Wayne does a good job at looking unruffled by it.

God, he's weird. Danny's starting to quite like it, actually. How human of him.

He still can't wrap his head around it when he meets the rest of Bruce Wayne's children, all of whom are already aware of the three of them. Danny thinks that someone from the Justice League might've alerted them before they got here.

It makes sense, he supposes.

It helps that they are just as weirded out as he is. A boy named Tim Drake sees him for the first time and blurts out; "Oh wow, you're tiny." In a tone like he's just seen a two-headed snake burst out of the ground.

Danny is still offended. He's still growing. It's not his fault he spent twelve years of his life malnourished. "I'm gonna be taller than you," he tells him seriously, "and when I do I'm gonna kick your ass."

Tim snorts at him.

The other Bruce Wayne -- Mr. Wayne's -- youngest looks at him up and down with a face of carefully controlled judgement. His name is Damian, he's Bruce Wayne's only biological son. Danny can't believe that there's only one.

If anything, Bruce Wayne himself looks surprised too.

"Todd, yes?" Damian says, his green eyes narrowed at him.

Danny feels like the specimen under his parents' microscope, he feels like he's standing on a platform that's being slowly spun by scientists. He looks over at Bruce Wayne in confusion, and then back at Damian. "I- yes?"

Damian Wayne nods, and then leaves.

Danny does not once see himself. That is unsettling in and of itself - surely Jason Todd would have been told about another version of himself in this world, wouldn't he? How old is he here? An adult, probably. Danny doesn't know if he wants to see him. What does he look like when he's grown up? He pulls his Robin jacket around him a little tighter, like a cocoon, like a shield.

"It's weird to hear them call me Jason Todd." He says aloud to himself, and it leaves a weight behind in his chest that shouldn't hurt the way it does. It shouldn't be weird to be called your name. It shouldn't cobweb up your throat to hear your name being said. It was his name. It was his.

Danny acclimates to the manor slowly. The house is big, massive. He's never been in a house so large before, he feels like a stray cat being taken in for the first time, again. He and Bruce and Dick Grayson are all given their own separate rooms - one of many inside this mansion - and the sheer size of his bedroom is bigger than his living room and kitchen combined.

it's daunting. Danny sits outside on the balcony and stares at the stars he can see - Wayne Manor is far enough away from Gotham that its light pollution doesn't obscure the sky here like it did in the heart of it.

Danny finds the constellations he can find and wishes he had his books with him. He finds the library the next day and buries himself in the back, curling up into a comfy armchair next and inhaling each book he can get his hands on.

Tim Drake wanders past him at some point, Danny would have missed him if it weren't for the fact that Drake stared at him strangely when he saw him. He walks away when he realizes Danny was staring back.

It's a rinse and repeat for the next few days. Danny doesn't go to meals, he sneaks food from the kitchen afterwards, and then buries himself in hundreds of books in the library.

Dick Grayson, the one from his world, goes and finds him three days later. Danny's eyes hurt with strain by then, but he is furiously halfway through a Jane Austen novel when Dick sits down across from him.

"Have you been here all day?" Dick asks, he drapes himself across the side of his chair, contorting himself into a position that Danny doesn't think is comfortable when he looks up at him.

Not that he looks up at him long - he hums absently and goes back to reading. Frowning when he realizes he lost his place on the page.

Dick Grayson raises an eyebrow, "Have you at least eaten anything?"

Danny hums. No, he hasn't, and he hadn't thought about eating all day. Until now that is, his frown ever deepening as his stomach pangs with a deep hunger.

"That's not healthy."

"Mhm."

"Are you going to eat something?"

"Mhhh."

And this gets Dick to frown. He straightens himself up, propping onto his elbows to stare at Danny. "Jason." He says strongly. And it's that that gets Danny to finally look up from his page, jumping like he'd again been poked with a live wire as he stares at Dick with wide eyes.

"Yes?"

"Put the book down." Dick orders, gesturing towards the side table next to Danny with a nod. "And come eat something." There's very little room for argument in his voice, he sounds like Jazz when she's trying to parent him, but instead he actually sounds authoritative. Not bossy.

Danny still frowns at him. "You're not the boss of me." He says, sinking back into his chair with a thumb bookmarking his page.

Dick gives him a look and makes a decisive noise, swaggling his head side to side while he does. "I'm pretty sure that for as long as we're here, me and B actually are the boss of you."

He's never really liked authority figures, not ones that tried to boss him around, that is. Danny doubles down, his lips curling into a shadow of a scowl. "Just because you're my brother in another world doesn't mean you can act like it."

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"I don't want to go eat."

"It's not good for you to skip meals."

"Quit talking like Jazz."

"Danny."

Danny sinks his teeth into his lip and scowls darkly at him, shrinking into the back of his armchair in hopes that it'll swallow him whole. The idea of going into that large fucking dining room fills him with a dread that makes him completely forget his appetite.

"Your fucking- dining room is- it's too big." He grits out, finally closing his book and hugging it tightly to his chest.

Dick blinks at him. "What?"

"You heard me! It's too big. This whole place is too big. It's- what do you even do with this much space? I don't know how this- other me ever lived here."

Dick Grayson surprises him, and his expression softens. "Oh," he says, "I get it."

"You do?" The tension bleeds slowly out of Danny's shoulders

"Yeah, I felt the same way when I first moved in with Bruce. I lived with the circus for most of my life, but I slept in a trailer." He says. And he talks more.

The end result of their conversation ends with Dick Grayson offering to let Danny sit across or next to him during mealtimes, and that he can talk to him if he starts getting uneasy. But he can't keep skipping meals - it was making them all worried.

Danny agrees, and Dick takes him down to the kitchens for food.

"They look at me weirdly too." He grumbles as they leave the library, Danny's book returned to the shelf where it belonged. When Dick looks at him curiously, he scrunches his nose up. "The - your other siblings. They look at me like I'm- I'm someone else. S'weird."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Dick asks, "You are someone else."

Dany shrugs, staring at the ground with a heavy frown. "I don't know."

Danny seeks out Dick more after that. And vice versa. Dick reminds Danny of Jazz, and he latches onto the familiarity like a leech. If Dick is bothered by it, he doesn't show it, whether he's talking to his other world's self, to the Bruce's, or to one of the other Wayne kids.

Damian Wayne seems particularly keen to seek him out, Danny finds. He thinks it means that they're close in this world, and that Damian wants to see more of what a young Dick is like. That's what he would do, at least.

He takes up on Dick's offer of seating near him during dinner, and finds an open spot across from him. Unless he has something to show him, then he sits next to him.

("You can call me Jason." He tells him one day when they're in the Wayne's massive, fuck-off gym and they're both climbing over the jungle gym. Dick's showing him how to be more flexible. It's the most Danny's worked out ever, he likes the burn it gives him.

Dick looks at him in surprise, "Really?" he's doing a handstand on the bars and Danny's more than a little jealous at his balance.

"Yeah, dipshit," he says, rolling his eyes, "I'll even let you call me Jay, it's my nickname."

Dick happily takes him up on that offer, and much to Danny's embarrassment, starts calling him Jaybird. All because of his stupid Robin jacket.)

Danny has yet to meet his other self still, it's scaring him a little. Where was he? And matter of fact, how long until he could go back to his home dimension? The three of them hadn't gotten any updates since they arrived.

Speaking of, he was starting to talk to Bruce more, it was just... strange. Even stranger than talking to Dick. Bruce Wayne in another life would have been his adoptive father, Danny can't wrap his head around it for the life of him.

Whatever did Bruce Wayne see in Jason Todd that made him worth adopting? He's too afraid of the answer to ask. They start talking more after they run into each other late at night. Danny had been hit with a bout of insomnia and was going to the library.

He ran into Bruce on the way. He was just.. staring, out the window, with a faraway look in his eye. He didn't even look startled to see Danny standing there.

Danny asks him if he wants to go to the library with him. It was out of panic. He isn't expecting Bruce Wayne to agree, and they walk there in suffocating silence. Danny keeps looking at him from the corner of his eye.

("You're staring?" Bruce doesn't sound upset, Danny jumps anyway.

"Yeah, sorry." his voice sounds stilted, "it's just..." his jaw wires itself shut for a spell, "...you looked like you were about to disappear."

"Ah.")

When they reach the library, Danny leads Bruce Wayne into the science section and takes out books upon books about stars. He leads him over to the armchair and fire and they both sit down on the ground.

"When I lived in Gotham I would stargaze." Danny says, it's the first thing he can think of. Bruce Wayne looks at him quizzically. "Well, I would try to. The sky's too polluted for that. Mostly I would just watch the skyline and try and spot Batman and Robin, was the same thing."

That cracks a smile out of Bruce. It's a small one, barely there. "I hardly think the two are comparable."

Danny is still serious. "Not to me."

He goes on, talking about how after he was adopted he got his hands on every star book he could find. He loves english and he loves to read, but something about the stars drew him in like a song. He rambles about every star fact he knows with Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne surprises him by telling him facts he didn't know. Danny soaks it up like a sponge, listening intently to him speak. And when they run out of star books to talk about, Danny tells Bruce that it was his turn to find something for them to talk about.

Bruce Wayne smiles again at him, a sly little thing like Danny's challenged him, and gets up. He comes back with a stack of film books, and they spend the next few hours going through them. Bruce Wayne rattles off every single movie fun fact he knows, and there is so much that he knows.

Danny is in awe, and moves to press against Bruce's side to see the stuff he points at in his books.

"You're smarter than people give you credit for." He says at some point, when his eyes hurt from being open for too long and his head leans against Bruce's arm for support. It follows with a jaw-cracking yawn that he tries and fails to stifle.

"Thank you, Danny." Bruce says, his voice soft and soothing and not helping with Danny's weighing exhaustion. His eyes drift, and then jerk open. "Do you want to go back to your room? You look tired, chum."

He bites back a smile at the nickname, and fails to keep it bitten. "No, no, I'm awake." He mumbles, shaking his head slowly. "I wanna hear-" he yawns again, "-hear you talking."

Danny swears he can hear the smile in Bruce's voice as he speaks; "Alright. Now, where was I?"

In the end, Danny falls asleep on the floor of the library next to Bruce Wayne. He doesn't even realize it until he wakes up the next morning. But it's not to worry, Bruce Wayne fell asleep too, an arm thrown around Danny protectively like he was his own kid.

This becomes a thing for them soon enough. When neither of them can sleep, they go to the library and talk and talk about whatever comes to mind.

There comes the dreaded night after they've finished whatever book they were looking at when Bruce, the little shit, turns to Danny and goes; "You never mentioned what happened after you hit Batman with a tire iron."

Danny groans, big and dramatic, burying his head in his arms, and ignores the low chuckle. "I thought he was gonna chase me down for sure." He complains, his voice muffled by his arms.

"Why did you hit him with a tire iron?"

The look Bruce gets is one of pure disbelief. "If Mothman suddenly showed up behind you while you were taking the wheels off his ride, you'd hit him too!"

"Last time I checked, Mothman isn't real." Bruce told him amusedly, and Danny flops over onto his back to stare him down. His arms sprawl out like a starfish, intentionally hitting Bruce in the shoulder.

"You don't know that, Batman's a cryptid and he's real."

Bruce roars with laughter, and Danny preens like a bird.

That next morning when Bruce passes by him for breakfast, he reaches over and ruffles his hair. It's the same thing he does for Dick every morning. It's the first of many, and it gets many stares from the surrounding family.

Bruce has a newspaper tucked under his arm, and when he sits down Danny stands up and skedaddles over to him, leaning over the side of his chair to peer at the paper.

"Any cryptids spotted, Buzz?" He asks, getting a startled laugh out of Bruce, who looks up at him.

"Buzz?"

"Well, yeah," and Danny states it as matter-of-fact. He gestures his head at Dick Grayson. "Dick calls you 'B', and B is for bees, and I can't just call you Bees, that's dumb. So; Buzz."

He grins triumphantly when Bruce laughs quietly, his shoulders shaking imperceptibly. "I know," he tilts his head up proudly, "I'm a genius."

Now he's actually laughing, dropping his head into one of his hands and trying to quiet himself as much as possible. Danny is positively beaming, ignoring the stares of the other Waynes as he flounces back to his seat just as the other Mister Wayne enters the room.

When Jason Daniel Fenton Todd meets Jason Todd for the first time, they both just stare at each other.

Danny recognizes himself immediately in the library, and he freezes up. His tongue ties to the roof of his mouth, and he's unsure of what to say.

He doesn't need to say anything at all, because when Jason Todd looks up and they lock eyes, they both just stare. And stare. Jason Todd is a large, hulk of a man, built like a brick shithouse, with a tired, traumatized look in his eyes and a white streak in his black curls. The same black curls that Danny himself has.

He has no idea what to say. Or if he should turn back around and leave.

Jason Todd sighs at him, "I know they told me you and another world's Bruce and Dickie were here," he says, but it sounds like he's talking to himself. Even moreso when he mutters half-heartedly, "-but I was hoping I wouldn't run into you."

Danny feels small next to him. He doesn't know why. "Sorry." He says lamely, his one foot skips back, "I can leave if you want." It's unlike him to be meek, he thinks. Not after years of Gotham living and dealing with the likes of Dash and his Jerk Jocks.

But this also isn't the streets, and this isn't other kids being dicks. Jason Todd shakes his head, and gestures with one large arm for Danny to come over. "You don't need to do that, you were coming to read, right?"

He nods, and tentatively makes his way over. When Jason looks at him, he sees him cast his eyes over his Robin jacket - he wears it everyday. Danny sees him narrow his eyes, just slightly. But he says nothing.

It's... a strange conversation. Interaction. Jason Todd doesn't talk to him much, and if he does it's stilted and awkward, like he doesn't know how to treat him. Like he's holding him at arm's length.

Jason's getting tired of being treated like a ghost.

They talk about their books. They compare lives. Jason Todd was picked up a few days after he stole the wheels of the batmobile. He wasn't an orphan, he lived with his mom and his stepdad before he lived with Bruce. They both like to read, only Danny has an interest in the stars.

("What do your adoptive parents do?" Jason Todd asks him, one arm slung over the back of the armchair, he looks relaxed. He looks tense. Danny feels like he's back in Crime Alley again.

"They're 'ectologists'." He says, making air quotes over the word. He rolls his eyes, "Ghost hunters. They study the dead and all things afterlife."

Jason Todd makes a dry laugh huff, a sarcastic half-smile on his face. He doesn't explain why he does, Danny doesn't ask why. It doesn't seem like his business.)

Danny wants to ask him where he got that white streak in his hair. It doesn't feel right. It feels like his parents' lab, and that isn't right. Nothing ever feels like his parents' lab.

Jason Todd leaves first after giving him a few book recommendations. Danny isn't sure how to rate the experience. Being in Jason Todd's presence was like standing in a liminal space. An empty parking lot at night. When he leaves it feels like much the same thing.

He struggles to read his books afterwards, unable to shake the feeling of being haunted.

#THERE WILL BE A PART 2 #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny is jason todd au #daniel jason fenton todd #daniel jason fenton todd?#man i love these variant aus huh #somehing about exploring identity man #I DIDNT EVEN GET TO THE PART THAT WAS THE WHOLE REASON I MADE THE WHOLE POST #that will be in part 2 onfg #but its so late i've been writing for literally hours #you know its late bc these tags aren't half as long as they normally are #its not a starry au unless it needs a read more #there's so much fluff here folks #so much fluff #it was supposed to be rlly only between dick and danny but bruce the sneaky bastard snuck in there #bc i needed him to also??? be on Good Terms with danny #parental ambiguity with the fenton parents. are they good? are they bad? who knows!#claps loudly IT IS VERY IMPORTANT THAT DANNY DOES NOT FIGURE OUT THEIR IDENTITY AT ALL DURING THIS #starry coming in hot with another unnecessarily long au #none of my friends are in DPDC so tumblr gets it instead

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watchingblsnowandforever · 4 months

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Hello!!

The crack post saga continues... =D

Warning: long, long post 😊😅

To be very honest though, for today's ep I will be getting serious more than usual, because it was quite significant in the flow of the plot, and also had moments of communication (this emotional constipation is what makes me yearn for Cherry Magic ah) that need to be studied a little closely.

HOWEVER, there will most definitely be crack because this group of friends is (unapologetically) batshit crazy and my brain refuses to not make comments at the most inappropriate times.

Peem: NO ONE SAW ME CUDDLING MY CRUSH TO SLEEP RIGHT?!

The sheer panic in his movements, oh my gods. It should not be as hilarious as it is 😭😂

To be very honest though, I would've panicked a bit in his place too, with friends like those, they'd never let him live it down

Peem is so cute 😭

Nothing to see here, just a guy getting shy over how his prince charming hom-ed him, and they kissed through his hand and cuddled all night hehe

Phum: here he comes again :) *eye twitch*

Peem's expression, how he's still holding his hands as if he has the cup, Kluen's disbelief, and Phum's smug af face-

I'm wheezing 😭🤣

Kluen, I'm kinda starting to like you, but no.

You don't stand half a chance against them and their situationship.

Hope you find another boyfriend to fall in love at first sight with (and leave my boys alone please, they don't need any more complications) <3

Oh, Fang knows too. Of course he does, that's his little brother right there

We all know how protective of his brother he is, there's no way he'd let anybody else take care of him... unless, he knew Phum liked that person

les voila

Poor Tan, his theerak just ignoring him T-T

*looks between them* yeah, pretty much the same pic 👀

And here it is. The root of all his fears.

See, in this camp, almost all of them are paired up in the sense that they usually stick to that person. Even Beer has MIck. But then comes wild card Kluen, who's hogging all of Peem's attention as much as he can and that leaves Phum. Alone.

I will be getting back to this running motif of Phum being alone and how it changes through the ep in later scenes as well

Also, after they went back, both Mick and Beer asked if he really was okay, which made me smile, because maybe, Phum isn't as alone as he thinks himself to be. There are people who care for him, who are concerned, who'll support him, and of course, he always has Fang, his beloved phi

My poor babie Tan 🥺🥺

Also, notice how the shot is taken in such a way that they're the only ones in the frame, and are also standing within one specific part of the wall? (Ignore Kluen's head and hands please). It reflects how they're in their own world with each other, especially Tan

The nosy peeps gang strikes again!

Jokes aside, the synchronised strides, the background music together set the perfect levels of suspense and comedy

Peem, smug: yes! that emotionally constipated dumbass is finally getting out of De Nile

Pun: wait... is my plan actually working? Ah, of course it is

Toey: head empty, no thoughts, but... DOES P'Q ACTUALLY LIKE ME OMG I'LL DIE

Oh gods, FINALLY. I wish them a happily ever after. Sadhu 😌🙏🏼

Pun forgetting all about being quiet when Toey finally confesses is so on character 😭👍🏼

Also... what's even the point of being quiet? Q and Chain have been friends with these idiots since high school, of course they know they're peeking

Toey: *shooketh*

Gays in thai bl and staring off into the distance 😭

This scene was so, so beautiful and also quite important for both Q and Toey

Q knew what was up, more or less, but his confusion stemmed from his knowledge of Toey

Would Toey really go to these lengths? For him?

"Why? Are you the only one who can tease me?" <- Q says this to tell Toey that he might have been angry, but now he understands that Toey didn't really have any bad intentions

Hugs always get bonus points from me, and this was pretty up there

Pun hiding behind Chain is so on point

His friends: you're an idiot so we had no choice but to intervene 😭😭

Matt's (JJ) comedic timing is >>>>>>

Toey and Matt's friendship is also given weight in the series, and I'm happier for it.

Also revenge is sweet ehehe *coughs*

Moving on.

If there's no live singing dedicated to your One True Love, is it even Thai BL??

We Are making generous use of MSP songs 😭👍🏼

This scene.

The apology. It is at this point that they're leaving all the past pain, grief and anger in the past

Q makes sure to tell Toey that yes, he may have loved Milk Frappe Boy, but now, in the present, all his love was for Toey, his lovable annoying mentee

This apology is not only to Toey, or Milk Frappe Boy, but to himself as well, because by causing pain to a person he loves twice, he'd caused himself pain too

The perfect sweet and romantic moment, but also with a teeny bit of teasing, because that's who they are

No joke, I gasped and nearly stopped breathing when he said this

Peem's reply, his soft but kind of hurt voice were just so painful to hear

But it's also this moment that Peem gives Phum a reality check – if he really didn't want to, he wouldn't be doing any of this, and Phum had no business trying to control his life

The conversation outside with Q was significant, but also a diluted reflection of Peem's earlier (in ep. 7) talk with Q

Even a few episodes earlier, Q would have gone ballistic on Phum for treating his bestie like this, but now, he asks Peem how he feels for Phum, tries to understand exactly what their relationship is

It was at this point that he knew, he fucked up

Beer is a godsent. I love him <3

I think Toey says "I asked hia Tan to blow it up for me."

Also, Tiw and his rubber duck floater from MSP anyone? 👀

And, we are back to square one where Phum is left alone again

As I'd said before, this a repeating motif throughout the series, but especially the last two episodes

This is how it has always been in Phum's life: he has been left behind. He does have Fang, but now even Fang has a boyfriend. And while this does not affect his brother's affection towards him in anyway, it does introduce a new strand of lonliness for Phum because 1. no matter what, he loves his brother a lot, and knows how much he loves Tan, so he definitely will try to stay out of their way at least sometimes and 2. he wants a boyfriend too. Further, he wants Peem, but there's a push and pull there, and after what he said, in his mind he had pretty much ruined his chances with his crush

This is the moment Phum starts to hope that maybe, just maybe, his feelings aren't as unrequited as he'd thought.

On the other hand, Peem is the one afraid here. What if the deal is all that's holding them together? What if without it, Phum will have no reason to be as close to him?

Peem, baby, for one, your groups are already merged, and secondly, this guy is head over heels for you, no way he'd stop following you like a lost puppy

(Apparently, it's not Peem's turn with the communal braincell this week 😭)

Here, Phum is technically alone, but he's surrounded with friends, and he's smiling

He isn't left behind here, for once, he's sitting there by choice (to shamelessly ogle his crush, but shh we don't talk about that) with the comforting knowledge that when/if he jumps in, he won't be left out, Kluen be damned

Once the floodgates of affection have been opened to Q, there's no going back <3

(Also, notice how Tan is already asleep on Fang's shoulder? 👀)

FINALLY

I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT SINCE PEEM KICKED PHUM'S BALLS

Jokes apart, this moment is so, so beautiful. The kiss, the soft question "are you ready for my answer now?" (maybe Peem isn't, but hell if he denies this man his kissies).

Everything leading up to this point is also so very delightful

Phum helping them out in the cafe, despite probably having never worked a day in his life, discovering how Peem still kept the roses and finally, finally, the completed painting. This sight, above all, is what convinces Phum that Peem might have feelings for him after all; because which fool would lie about not having completed something that would free them from being a slave to someone? A fool in love, that's who

ALSO,

if they don't get together and have the fluffiest moments in the next ep, I swear to god, hands will be thrown *grumbles* they're already making me wait a whole damn week

Anyways, that's all for this week, see you next ep! (I cannot promise I won't be jumping around and screaming, but then again, this is supposed to be a crack post so-)

And if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a bubble tea and a sandwich 🧋🥪

[If you'd like, here are my previous posts: Ep 8 and Ep 9.]

#we are the series #we are series #we are #watching bls: we are #let's talk bl #phumpeem #qtoey #tanfang #chainpun #thai bl

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rowanwritestoomuch · 21 days

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How to Create Your Own Symbolism

with rowan

gather round children, I want to tell you about symbolism.

The wall isn't always blue, but when it is, what does it mean to you?

I often see young writers (and even some of us veterans) using symbolism in the most banal ways, simply because they believe they have to. The world said 'we think this thing means such and such' and the writer feels confined within that analysis.

But to be blunt, what if we weren't so anal about it?

What if we, the author, got to decide what exactly a certain motif, a certain quirk, a specific flower, a sound, a sensation, meant more than what it does and it meant exactly what we wanted it to?

We do this through research, as all good things are done. Recently when setting up a scene in my current work, I explored the symbology of flowers for my original plan, and I inserted flora that I was familiar with and felt right. Then I realized I live in Michigan and my characters are standing in a field in Georgia. Oh boy, what a mess. So it was that we must find out what exactly blooms in Georgia, in this particular month (being that of early August). I looked for a long while at various photos and descriptions, percipitation charts and spreadsheets about bloom patterns, and when it was that I found several flowers that aesthetically pleased me, I created a bouquet in my mind. I wanted this scene to encompass the characters in the somber beauty around them. But where to begin figuring out what these flowers mean?

We look first into the meanings that other people lend to these things. We ask the florist 'what does it say when I hand someone a frond of grey goldenrod? Is it different from early goldenrod?' and the answer may surprise you with its affirmative yes. We may consult the spiritualists, 'in what context of ritual do you place this flower on the altar of worship?' and we can consider the metaphor of their response in our own character's interactions. We look to the biologist and we say 'how does this flower exist within our world? What are its strengths--- its weaknesses?' and we ask our characters the same thing.

We then look into ourselves. Can this information we have collected be arranged and placed and fed to the reader in a way that describes what I want to portray? Will I remember to continue to weave those threads, that lasting impression, throughout the text? Does it speak to me with the same rich voice that a symbol should?

Bringing all of this together, before I choose the symbols I was going to use in finality, I reflected on my text. Did the appearance of this blossom fit the color language I have used so far? Will it remind the reader of earlier moments, of foreshadowing I have previously set down, of events that have brought our paths into this moment? Will it be jarring, in the revelation of what deeper meaning I have placed upon it? Will that shock be what I desire?

Often I think we don't ask enough questions, or perhaps, we are not guided to which questions should be asked in order to inspire us. Anything placed within a scene can be a symbol. Make it memorable, make it unique. The walls are blue because she is sad, and we see that throughout the entire body of the text, and never do we forget that those walls are closing in, they are weeping, they are longing, they are cold, they are solitude. The breadth of the text remembers that. And perhaps, in your own way, blue can be happiness, it can be light, it can be like the air, or the calm ocean, or the perwinkle opening its petals to dawn. If only you decide.

Always remember, write because it hurts if you don't.

until next time.

#rowanwrites #creative writing #on writing #writeblr #writing advice #how to write #rowanteaches #writers on tumblr #writing tips #ao3 #symbolism

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alavestineneas · 8 months

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The star reborn

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader summary: But most importantly, her eyes. Bloodshot. Sharp. Intelligent. The eyes he tried so hard to ignore, the eyes he will undoubtedly try as hard to forget—they are his eyes, even if the colour is different. Inside them, there's nothing of the person he painted or conditioned her to be—those eyes are neither of prey nor of a sheep. No, the dreamy, unblinking orbs are the curved mirrors reflecting the truth he fears to control. warnings: canon-typical violence, narcissism, character death, implied sex, implied/referenced suicide word count: 3,5K

PART 1 IS HERE

author's note: hiiii! chapter 2 is finally here!! please let me know what you think of it in the comments - I did leave my comfort zone a little with this one. also, it is kinda angsty - be sure to be in a right headspace before reading it. Love you - enjoy!!

The lights above her head shine with dull, warm colours, casting their heavy shadows on the green, heavily painted walls. The silver lining of the ceiling opposes almost sickening stuffiness. YN's eyes follow it through half-opened lids: hot and cold, the contrast so vibrant it hurts already irritated senses. Was it alcohol? The half-full bottle of sugary liquor stood as if trying to hide, beside the gigantic bed. It couldn't be; her body was long used to the fire spreading through its small canals. The feeling, although equally unpleasant, was different—like a hidden bruise she took too long to notice, its purple hands stretching down her abdomen.

It was supposed to be just a one-time thing, a job she could handle without any complaints—like she did every time. Maybe it was, but soon one time turned into twice a week, then whenever he felt like it. It was good, sensing the want, and need every time his figure appeared at the doorframe—almost too good. Staining her lips with taste, his taste, sending her head round and spinning. A twisted carousel with countless bed sheets, counters, and extravagant salons of the latest cars instead of smiling animal figures.

Coriolanus's breath was hot on her skin; his whispers marked it with unreadable praises that YN knew he didn't mean—they still landed right on her chest, sinking their way into her lungs and clouding the air her brain desperately needed. He curses and swears, so far from the professional persona he puts on every time he finishes. The feeling of cold, long fingers on her hips pulling YN's body closer turned into electric-like impulses, crashing into her flesh and mixing with the rhythm of her poor, booming heart.

It's easy to guess the patterns of his movements, his broad shoulders covering almost the entire room from her eyesight—a minute more, and all of YN's vision would be taken by the knitted blonde brows and silk-like lips. Coriolanus's eyes draw motifs on her bare body, drinking everything down to the slight twitches of her legs, but never meeting her own. She almost feels sad about the fact; after all, she deserves to see how they grow dark, changing from sky-like blue to almost sapphire, heaving along with his breathing.

His hand changes its position, clasping YN's throat instead of the bedframe. It's brutal and animalistic to feel him holding onto the last bits of self-control to not let his guard down completely, in an attempt to regain the power back. YN closes her eyes—the sensation of his trembling limb is poisoning her insides with the sweetest taste of fear. The heartbeat in her temples, echoing in the empty chamber of her chest—the tempo of prey running from its hunter, the pace of the chase of an illusive prize. She feels Coriolanus twitch, the grip tightening along with her before finally relaxing. Caught. Eaten.

She doesn't mind the feeling of heaviness his body seems to plant in her own; he lays his head near, chest rising and falling, the smug, satisfied ghost of a smirk lingering on his swollen lips. YN doesn't remember when exactly she became content with it; it seems something inside of her has always craved him. Coriolanus squints his eyes under the light of the ceiling lamps, but all she sees is a wolf. A hunter sizing up the sheep before sinking his white, pearly teeth in the soft waves of flesh. Now, he is full, although no one knows for how long. YN guesses the hunger never entirely goes away.

Hers doesn't. She devours until she's sick, and does it again, again and again. His touch is too much, and YN wants to leave, hide, and scrub it off until her fingers bleed—and at the same time, she craves it more than anything. If he is a hunter, what does that make her? Prey. Deer. But does the prey have teeth as sharp as she does? Does she bite as often, tearing her way to survival? Maybe, and maybe not—YN is never in the habit of putting a label on her head and eating at it until there is nothing left of her but a hollow shell.

''Is there something wrong?''

YN almost cringes at the sound of her voice; its sound travels the room, circling the bed she was lucky to call her escape before finally landing on the tip of Coriolanus's tongue. He doesn't turn to her, taking in the ball of nerves she called a question before answering.

''The reviews of Games become more and more disappointing—game makers, although they change each other quickly, don't bring anything new. People don't want to watch.''

The hum of understanding escapes YN's dried lips before she can think twice about it. Coriolanus leaves her mind a dessert, an arena she thought she left behind, left as a victor, making her fight for existence once more. His next words prove it.

''You gave a show with all the weaponry skills, especially because they aren't typical for your district. How?''

She shouldn't feel pride in what sounded more like an interrogation, but YN never liked to do as she should've—that's why her naked body is now interwoven with his, the rising heartbeat in her ribcage sending waves to his fingertips. ''I trained with stones and butter knives. When you learn how to kill a bird with them, the human body is nothing.''

Coriolanus chuckles, the deep vibration resonating against her head on his chest. ''Impressive. But why risk getting caught preparing for something that might never happen to you?''

Maybe it's the way his hands draw circles around the lines of her neck, or maybe it's the way the lights flicker, but the slumped words from YN's mouth become more difficult to pronounce. ''You see the games as punishment, but the real punishment is life outside them—the arena is a golden ticket, and to compete is a privilege. Once more people get that into their heads, they will fight to even have a chance to put on a show for you. Of course, if you turn a blind eye to the preparations: can't impress with excessive knowledge of gemstones or fabrics, can you?''

His silence could've meant a lot to people who didn't know better, but the slight, almost invisible nod of the blonde-crowned head suggested understanding. If YN had been a little more attentive, she would've noticed the subtle shift in his pose. That way, the voice booming into her ear wouldn't have caught her by surprise.

''Turn on your stomach.'' Coriolanus only commands, and never asks. His pale cheeks are not yet free from colour, and the glimmer in his eyes reeks of determination.

YN wants to refuse; she wants to open her mouth and bite him right where a vital vein pulsates on his neck, draining the life force mixed with the scent of his bitter cologne. She doesn't; she hides her teeth in the silk pillowcase, its soft fabric making a home in her opened mouth. It wasn't the closure she craved, but YN knew better. You take what you can get, and with Coriolanus, you take what he gives. She needs to be adored, to be worshipped—he turns a blind eye to her every time he gets what he wants. Maybe that's what she gets for loving a man like him—he knows she is just a woman and tolerates her despite that. In the end, it doesn't really matter; he is still a god, and she is still on her knees, begging until they grow raw.

It was harmless fun at first to have her around. In addition to his small collection, a limited edition of the human she was—the whole world underneath her pretty heel, her eyes only on him. It fed his ego; Coriolanus will admit that much. Like a golden watch on his left hand or a new-tinted car, YN revolved around him. An ode to status, a testament to his power. But all things have to end—the lights are turned off after the long day of work, and the plates are cleaned after dinner.

He watches the buildings change rapidly, their warm windows mixing with tall structures of concrete. Even now, in a silent car, he finds their ever-changing looks captivating—the city jungle is never asleep, its loud voices covering the streets with a thick coat of isolation. Among men, he still stood alone. Undefeated. Victorious. Coriolanus doesn't bother to turn to the woman beside him. He played this conversation in his head too many times; now, there is nothing of the initial curiosity that used to sparkle. ''I think it would be better if we stopped seeing each other; the press is too relentless, and it's becoming dangerous for our image.''

He doesn't even have to come up with something plausible—rumours are circling of a ''new mysterious man" who was seeing the Panem's favourite star. But no one suspected it was him, and even if they did, who would dare to question him? The reason behind his decision is less poetic—the one he is somewhat reluctant to admit, even to himself.

''What?''

Her voice cuts the air, pulling Coriolanus out of his thoughts. He almost feels her figure tense up, her manicured hand gripping a stunning purse with all the power she has. It looks like claws, which he notices with humour. He imagines the same nails digging into the skin on his back, just like they did a few nights ago; the feeling sends a pleasant wave down his spine. ''You will continue with modelling and photoshoots, just like before. It even might be better—there are a couple of new projects I want you to take on.''

''Do these ''projects'' include other men that you promised to keep me safe from?''

She is mad. Coriolanus, it seems, tastes the venom dripping from her painted lips on his tongue, its bitter acids burning his throat. Maybe it's that lingering sensation, or maybe it's the air conditioning in the car—his body grows a little hot, and his head turns a lot more annoyed. He swallows; the car is almost at the mansion's driveway. A few more minutes and a starch of fresh air will get to his lungs.

YN doesn't wait for the car to fully stop; she opens the door abruptly and closes it right in his face, her boots stomping on the expensive lawn, leaving small holes in the green scenery. Her long coat flies as she walks, ignoring the shouts he throws her way. The wind, or him, leaves her eyes watery; the thick black mascara is already smudging and creasing under her beautiful lashes.

''YN! YN, wait! Woman, why won't you stop for just a fucking second?''

She doesn't answer, pushing through the buttler into the huge hall and throwing the leather bag onto the grand staircase. Fleeing, escaping—the actions stir something in Coriolanus—a mixture of anger and strange excitement. He grabs her by the shoulder, showing her back, but YN twists away, turning to face him instead.

''Why won't I stop? You are planning on leaving me, on selling me like a used car, and you have the audacity to ask me to stop?''

''YN, darling, let's just quit shouting for a second; you are overreacting.''

''Me?'' Her eyes are mad, maniac—nothing of the stoic beauty he is so used to enjoying. She yells, backing her way into the living room and throwing anything that gets under her hand at him. Coriolanus watches as the books, vases, and small statues fly over and into him, crashing against the walls and crashing into small pieces. ''I am overreacting, asshole? I have given you everything I had, every fucking piece of me that you wanted, and now you demand that I stop?''

He only plants his feet and abandons chasing her when the coffee table is in her hands, its golden lining matching the buttons on her blouse. Coriolanus lifts his hands in surrender; they both know she is not above launching it at him. So, he leaves her be.

YN's figure slides down the wall, her body trembling with anger and cries. They echo inside his head, a strange melody of defeat and desperation. Coriolanus watches her from a safe distance on the sofa, his head resting against the soft pillows. He can wait—this is likely the last time he gets to admire the beauty the world has graced her with.

The carefully styled hair that now resembled nothing of its original form, the freshly applied makeup that now streaked across her face. Even the way her neck bends to allow her a better view of him. YN's gaze follows his every move—it seems one wrong step—and the newly bestowed stillness will flee from his grasp again.

But most importantly, her eyes. Bloodshot. Sharp. Intelligent. The eyes he tried so hard to ignore, the eyes he will undoubtedly try as hard to forget—they are his eyes, even if the colour is different. Inside them, there's nothing of the person he painted or conditioned her to be—those eyes are neither of prey nor of a sheep. No, the dreamy, unblinking orbs are the curved mirrors reflecting the truth he fears to control. Coriolanus desires her; Coriolanus requires her; and if there is a want, there is a need. That's why he doesn't wish to see her anymore; if he does, she will eat him alive.

''Don't leave me,'' YN's voice is a siren's call, softer than any other sound. She crawls to him, carefully placing her head on his lap, searching for something, anything, on his face.

''You should get help, darling, for a little bit. What do you say? A nice place near the mountains—just a few months to wait for the press out.''

YN looks up at him, her face deprived of any emotion. ''Promise you will have me back?''

Coriolanus just nods, his large hand running down her back. The matter is already decided. He is not safe just because he owns her. If YN feels like it, she will stain her mouth with his blood, too.

''Hi Maggie!''

YN's voice booms through the speaker of the phone Mags holds tightly to her ear; finally, her friend is allowed to answer her calls. ''Hi! How are you? Are they feeding you well?''

That's probably not true—the mental health institutions have a history of underfunding, but Mags hopes Mr President was kind enough to choose a better place for his ex-mistress. She wasn't shocked when she heard of YN's mental breakdown; on the contrary, Mags thinks the hospital is just what her friend might need—the life of a victor isn't all glamour.

''Good enough! You know I can't put on too much weight; the designers won't forgive me for that!''

She sounds happy over the phone like this—if she is, Mags is too, no matter how much she wants to cry at the sound of her voice.

''Did he say something about me?''

Mags knows who she is asking about but hesitates to answer. She doesn't have the heart to tell her that the Snow family just announced the pregnancy of his wife, so she does what any good friend would do—Mags lies. ''I don't think so. But! The new law was just put in place—1, 2, and 4 are allowed to train their tributes from now on!''

''Oh, that is wonderful! Maggie, I am so sorry, but I have to go now. I promised I would help with books in the library. But I will call you as soon as I can!''

''I'll be waiting, YN. Be on your best behaviour; I would like to see my best friend soon!''

YN laughs. It's not very clear, but the warmth radiating from it translates definitely. ''I would never leave you, Maggie. Even as a ghost, you will never get rid of me—not for a moment.''

Mags hopes it's true. It's hard being YN's friend sometimes, but no one deserves to be alone in this cruel world. The phone call ends before she can answer; all that is left are long beeps.

The same beeps she is left with after the next call. It is answered by a different voice; this one is more mature and not as lively at all.

''We are sorry to inform you that Miss YLN lost her battle to depression on Friday, the 25th, at…''

Mags doesn't listen after that; she throws the phone across the room, bringing yet another death to delicate machinery. She has no point in keeping it in her house now for a simple, mundane reason: there is no one left to call. That is when the feeling she tried so hard to escape all her life finally nestled in her stomach, swallowing her from the inside. Hatred.

She hates the games, Panem, the Capitol, and the people who live there. Hates newspapers, hates tabloids, and hates interviewers—the people flooding the centre where the funeral is held. She doesn't want to see any of them—to see them cry and hug, whisper and tell long speeches about a person they murdered—YN didn't know any of their names, yet somehow all of them ''grieve with the world at the loss of their dearest friend''. But most of all, she hated the one who didn't even bother to show up, the one who had caused all of this.

Mags doesn't even bother remembering her own pain; it is greatly overshadowed by the cold body of her friend in a coffin she would've hated—nothing bored YN more than simple colours and ''refined tastes''. If Mags could, she would've filled the room with clashy patterns and as many shiny things as possible and served the cheapest burgers one could find in Capitol—just how she liked it. But all she can do is stare at the cold ground and a freshly planted bush of pearly-white roses on top of it. Her hands itch to dig it up, to stomp on it and replace it with something else—she doesn't. YN would've wanted them to stay.

She told her that one time, a year or two after her death—every time she appeared at its anniversary, exactly a month before the reaping. The first time Mags saw her, she thought she was going insane, but then the fear adjusted to never-changing grief. YN was harmless, even kind, although she communicated only with hand gestures—those are the rules, she told her, and rules should be followed.

The sky already grows dark, but YN hasn't shown up yet - Mags is too tired of a long day of teaching in the academy to ponder why. Maybe, after the fifty years that passed since, her friend finally found her peace. If so, Mags is happy for her. She can't wait anymore—the old woman picks up a coat from the locker and puts it on, closing the classroom before starting her journey to the exit.

The halls of the training grounds are empty; all of the children have already gone home. It pains Mags to remember who inspired the careers, and it fills her heart with immense pride at the same time. YN, to this day, is the golden standard of tribute; she is forgotten, neither by the people of Capitol nor by her own. Mags can't even count how many times the young victors of one hesitantly came to her with an old magazine in hand, asking to share something about their idol's life. She would often only smile; those children learned it by themselves sooner than she would like them to, most suffering the exact fate at the hands of the same man. The only thing that brought hope to Mags's heart was her declining health; she was getting older, and so was Coriolanus Snow. And as much as he would like, no one was immortal; he would pay for all the deaths on his hands, she would make sure of that.

''Excuse me, Miss?''

''Yes?'' Mags thinks that she heard it wrong and that her hearing is getting worse. But no—a boy, not younger than fourteen—leaves his spot at the bench near the gates and stands up, coming closer.

''Are you Maggie?'' The childish voice contrasts with the muscular build; the boy is definitely a student. ''I was just practising knots when Miss came up to me and said Maggie could help with that.''

The air leaves her lungs suddenly. Mags grips onto the coat, her hands desperatly in search of the headache pills. It all must just be her imagination, right? But the boy looks real, studying her face in curiosity. ''What woman?'' she finally breathes out.

''I don't know,'' the boy shrugs. ''Not from here. In a pretty white dress with stars on it. I asked her where she bought it, but she just laughed.''

Mags smiles weakly—that does sound like something YN would do. ''Did she say anything else?''

''Yeah!'' The boy beams excitedly, showing a missing-tooth grin. ''She said I will be the brightest star there ever was if I work hard enough!''

''That sounds about right," Mags says, her voice filled with nostalgia. "You know what? Find me tomorrow after your classes - I'll help you with knots. What was your name again?''

''Finnick, Miss. And thank you!'' The boy turns on his feet, not listening to whatever she has to say, and hurries home. ''Bye Miss Maggie!'' he shouts on his way before disappearing in the maze of brick buildings.

An impulse to correct him and remind him that her name is ''Mags'' crosses her mind, but she decides against it. After all, the name was too special to forget. The stillness of the evening lands on Mags' shoulders, and she continues the way to the victor's village. She has a lot to do - the 65th games are starting in a month, and then she will have a chance to finally rest.

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bonefall · 1 year

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BB!Goosefeather

[ID: Goosefeather from Warrior Cats in the Better Bones AU. He is a round, wolflike cat with tiny, unreadable, deep blue eyes. In the second image he's caught in a vision, signified by swirling eyes and a nosebleed]

I've always had a very different take on Goosefeather than the wider fandom. In particular, his final scene with Bluefur at the end of Bluestar's Prophecy has always FASCINATED me. She's mourning the loss of her kits, and Goose comes up, almost as if he's going to comfort her like anyone else...

But his tune is very different from the rest of the Clan. He reminds her that the kits were not part of fate, and ergo, her own choice. This screed has this intriguing taste of bitterness, and it immediately made Goose one of my favorite WC characters.

Was that resentment? Smug satisfaction? What was behind those words, Goosefeather?

Did you know that the raid you sent your sister on was going to kill her? Did the herbs even need to be destroyed? What if the only vision he'd received was that Moonflower had to die?

It's one thing if he's just, you know, plagued by visions that will come no matter what, and he's Sad About It. I do love the Cassandra type characters in fiction, but... the idea that he's DEDICATED to the prophecies that haunt him, that it's both a curse and a commitment, a damnation and a destiny... it gives me... gOOSEBUMPS HEYOO

AND SO! Better Bones Goosefeather is a situational antagonist in nearly every story he's in. He believes firmly that to defy fate only creates worse outcomes, that you have to kill a mouse to have a meal. More than just following the 'will of StarClan,' he believes that a prophecy is more than just a warning. To him, they are instructions.

(More info below the cut!)

In Bluestar's Flowers, he receives a vision of Moonflower dying in a WindClan raid. He knew she had to die, and so, he got her killed. This is not revealed until near the end of the book.

At the same time, he will occasionally (and uncharacteristically, Featherwhisker will note) help Bluemoon escape being caught when she sneaks out to meet up with the Forget-me-Not friend group.

Bluemoon's kits are children of prophecy... or, one of them is.

Mosslight is fated to become a grand hero, and overthrow the horrible tyrant, Thistlestar.

Goosefeather will ensure the propagation of both sides of this prophecy. Thistleclaw must become leader. Mosskit must be born.

But, in the end, Bluemoon's love is stronger than destiny. She will NEVER let Thistleclaw become leader, she will NEVER let him command innocent people like Rosetail and Thrushpelt into early graves, and she will NEVER let him brutalize the Clans of her friends.

Goosefeather thought it was a checkmate when she was in the nursery with the three kittens, clearly ineligible for deputyship after accusation of having halfclan kittens (Thistleclaw's questioning violating the Queen's Rights) and his personal endorsement of him for deputy.

he was WRONG

Bluemoon brought them to RiverClan, the hero of destiny dying in the process, cinching the deputyship by a hair's length.

With great tragedy, with great cost, with great sacrifice, Bluestar WON.

The thread of prophecy was severed so hard that Goosefeather never received another vision ever again. Nothing would be the same again, he was living in a new world and a new time.

He lived the last of these days quietly, reflecting on his life, his actions, considering... if all those times where he'd Done What Had To Be Done, if it was for nothing.

Goosefeather is allowed a peaceful death, unburdened by the buzzing curse of prophecy, slipping into his sleep in a doomed timeline that yet persists.

DESIGN STUFF

I need these visions to look painful. I want to drive it home that these are hurting him. So I gave him nosebleeds.

He's committed to the thing that hurts most, because he can't imagine another way

symbolism

His family carries a wolf motif, this is very important because I said so. Awoo, even.

You can see how Goosefeather's big fat tummy is present in his relatives, Sorreltail and Dovewing.

He reminds me of Winnie the Pooh but as an evil wizard. He's got a haunted plushie kind of vibe.

like a teddy ruxpin, even

And lastly this is unrelated to everything, but when I was designing Skywatcher I kept thinking about the two of them having a wizard battle. I just think that is very funny and it is a thought I am now sharing with all of you. <3

[ID: Wizard battle meme]

Skywatcher and Goosefeather at Bingo Night after the Skypelt/Silverpelt reunification in BB!AVoS

#CW nosebleed #tw nosebleed #tw blood #cw blood #blood warning #blood #epistaxis #Better Bones AU #Bluestar's Flowers #BB!Goosefeather

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therainscene · 2 years

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Ever notice how frequently Will is associated with rods?

They show up in multiple places: Will wields a rod-like weapon in every season; he’s compared to Phineas Gage, the man with the iron rod driven through his brain; Castle Byers is made up of them, as seen above; and there’s even a couple of uncomfortably phallic references here and there.

This motif works remarkably well as a framework for understanding his character arc:

At the start of S1, Will has begun to realize that he really is as gay as his abusive father always accused him of being. He’s horrified. His homosexuality manifests as a monster from the game he plays with the boy he has a crush on.

He grabs a gun, a symbol of his father’s expectations of manliness...

...but he can’t bring himself to use it. That’s just not who he is.

He lets the monster drag him into the closet, and it’s terrifying in there. His upbringing in a homophobic 80s environment has robbed him of the opportunity to understand his sexuality in an age-appropriate way; all he knows about it is perversion and disease.

He’s haunted by disturbingly sexual thoughts he’s not old enough to handle yet.

At the end of S1, he metaphorically comes out to his mother when she rescues him from the Upside Down and reassures him that he’s still loved. Will feels a bit better... but he’s not out of the Demogorgon-infested woods just yet.

In S2, he still feels the urge to fight his developing sexuality. His mother’s support has made it easier to forget about his father, though, so the urge isn’t as strong as it used to be.

His gun is now a nerdy toy, more reflective of Mike than of Lonnie.

Unfortunately, his father isn’t the only homophobe in town, and word of his metaphorical coming out has gotten around -- the bullying is worse, and even his loved ones don’t look at him the same way anymore. He feels like a freak; he identifies with Phineas Gage when he learns about him in Mr. Clarke’s class.

His homosexuality comes for him again in the shape of yet another monster from D&D. This one can’t drag him fully back into the closet -- that ship has sailed -- so instead, it torments him. You’re a mistake, it whispers in his ear. Why not be angry about it?

Like Phineas Gage, he’s not acting like himself anymore.

Joyce does her damnedest to help, but her efforts aren’t as effective as they were in S1. She just doesn’t understand what he’s going through. This time, it’s Mike -- the boy who refuses to treat him differently or leave his side -- who succeeds in reassuring him that he’s not a mistake.

Will falls even more in love with Mike in the wake of such a sweet gesture. He knows that Mike will never truly love him back in the way he wants, but... maybe Mike really does want to be his D&D-playing bestie forever. That’s good enough for him. It’s the best a bundle of sticks could realistically expect to get, anyway.

His gun has become a D&D wizard staff, now fully symbolic of his feelings for Mike.

Unfortunately, Michael “I’m not gay ur gay” Wheeler is too busy having his own character arc to notice how important D&D is to Will. They argue over it, and without meaning to, he pins Will to the wall like a butterfly: “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls!”

Will feels seen. He feels rejected. He feels stupid. Of course Mike doesn’t want to be a kid with him forever. It’s too much; all of his pent-up trauma and internalized homophobia and grief for his lost innocence comes spilling out at once.

His gay wizard staff morphs into another symbol of Lonnie’s expectations and he uses it to destroy the last vestiges of his childhood.

The wooden rods that were once Castle Byers lay strewn about. One slices clean through his face as he sobs:

His father’s in his head again. He’s not acting like himself.

At the end of S3, Will moves to Lenora, far away from his homophobic hometown and his memories of Lonnie. He gains some perspective. He grows more confident in his identity.

He decides to be honest with Mike about how he feels.

For the first time, he’s not wielding a weapon. He's finally stopped trying to fight his sexuality.

How could it be a bad thing to love a boy as sweet and stubborn and loyal and stupid and brilliant as Mike Wheeler? The painting is the purest possible expression of his love for Mike.

However, this is only the penultimate season -- Will hasn’t self-actualized just yet! He chickens out of a true confession, sacrificing his own feelings in favour of helping Mike repair his romance with El. He still believes that the best he can hope for is a close platonic friendship...

...but he can’t lie to himself about that being enough for him anymore.

At the end of S4, he returns to Hawkins, and we get another shot of Phineas Gage imagery as the Cali crew arrives in town:

Memories of homophobia are flooding back in the form of a D&D villain’s voice.

The shame instilled in him by this town still affects him. But he’s also matured enough to understand now who it really was that he should have been fighting this whole time.

Will’s ready for one final battle. But what about his relationship with Mike in S5? Does the rod motif give us any clues there?

All I’ll say is, it’s interesting how both boys were sweeping at the start of this scene... but only Mike carried his broom over to the sofa.

#stranger things #rod symbolism #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #castle byers #my analysis

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4rainynite · 1 year

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EAH Dorm Rooms Headcanon pt 1

Apple & Raven's Dorm.

One's a princess who's loyal to her destiny, while the other princess is rebellious and fighting for a cause.

Throughout the series we've seen Apple & Raven's room the most since they're the main characters. but let's dive in a little more.

It's obvious that Raven and Apple have different styles as Raven's style would be associated with the gothic subculture and Apple would be associated with the preppy subculture. Apple's main colors are red, white, and gold (and sometimes pink) and her motifs are apples, bows, and pearls. Raven's main colors are purple, black, and grey/silver (and sometimes turquoises) and her motifs are birds/feathers, chains, and scales. Also, their main colors are Ever After High school's color and their alliances purple for the Rebels and red for the Royals.

Mirrors seem to be one of the things that unites the two girls. Think about it, in the Snow White story it was a magic mirror that told the Evil Queen who was the fairest. Throughout the dorm mirrors are shown on both sides (heck, there're tiny mirrors on Raven's slippers). Throughout history mirrors have been used to reflect what we see and who we want to see. And during the book and web series mirrors have been used during important story lines for example: Headmaster Grimm hearing the Evil Queen laugh, Apple using the mirror net to spy on Raven (consent much?), how the Evil Queen spies on others (Ugh, privacy!), mirrorpads, mirrorphones, mirror prison, the booking glass in Dragon Games, etc. Mirrors are important in the EAH world.

From what is stated on Apple's card (under Apple's side) the room she and Raven share is the largest dorm room (in the girls' dorm) reserved for epic tales. Seeing how the Headmaster plays favorites I'm surprise he didn't give this room to Apple first. But maybe he doesn't assign the rooms and as long as the character is from an epic tale: evil, good, or neutral they can have it!

Apple's side: Apple is a Royal both in alliance and birthright. Apple aspires to be the perfect queen and her dorm room reflects it. Honestly, don't tell me this wasn't the bedroom you wanted when you were five-years-old and in your princess phase.

From what I read in the books Apple's furniture consists of: redwood furniture, canopy, gilded chairs and wardrobe. Only the best for a future queen!

Apple lives and breathes the princess lifestyle and not just because she is one, she works hard for it. She's also very studious as she is one of the few students with the top grades so whenever she's not checking herself in the mirror she is studying, reading, or preparing for future school events.

Apple cares deeply about her looks and her magic talking mirror helps her both in fashion and in confidence. I love the irony that Apple spends more time consulting a magic mirror than Raven.

Though it was never seen in the show Apple did receive a jewelry box similar to Raven's. The jewelry Apple may keep in there are probably pearls, rubies, mini crowns, and apple barrettes since that is what she usually wears.

In the Getting Fairiest line Apple has a nightstand where she places her crown while getting ready for an event or sleeping. It was never shown in the webseries, but we did see Briar's nightstand where she keeps her sunglasses (will show when it's Briar's turn) and them seem to be larger than the toy version.

Apple's Fainting Couch has been seen in a few episodes, sadly we never saw her use it. Which is a bummer because, picture this:

Apple laying on her fainting couch writing in her diary WITH HER GLASSES ON! Suddenly, the door knocks and Apple scrambles to put her glasses in the secret compartment and looking very awkward hiding them. That could've been a running gag, we were robbed of that and seeing Apple in her glasses! Plus, the embroidered apple pillow is so cute!

It wasn't seen during Dragon Games, I'll let it pass since the animators were probably busy and we're human we forget stuff. I also believe that Apple keeps her diary in the storage of the fainting couch.

Seeing how she and Raven have the biggest dorm (in the girls' dorm) of course Apple would have a closet and a dresser to fit all her luxurious clothes. But, sometimes the closet isn't there in some scene. My theory is that since Ever After High School is magical maybe the furniture appears when it is needed, or for example when the student is in the room the windows will appear to bring in some like. Like I said above during the Fainting Couch the animators are busy and the layouts change with each animator.

The vanity was originally Apple's desk which had a bulletin board above it. Again, layout change and the furniture appears when it is needed. I kinda like that Apple has fairy lights seeing how traditional her style is, but see does have a poster of guitar, so she may have a spark to her.

Raven Side: Even before the Rebel movement Raven had a rebellious streak in her. She questioned how her world worked, her story, and herself. Despite Raven's fashion sense matching a traditional fairy tale villain it was her choice to dress that way.

Raven's didn't originally look the way we see it now; Apple (along with Briar) redecorated her side of the dorm to resemble more of an evil queens lair. In the webseries Apple gave Raven an evil throne, an evil crown, and an evil haunted mirror (she may have added the extra mirrors), while in the book Apple put spikes on most of Raven's furniture and gave her a goblin bed sheet set. As nice as Apple was trying to make Raven feel at home, it wasn't right of her to change roommates and go through Raven's things without consent.

One thing that stands out in Raven's room is a white guitar, which gives us the idea that Raven is a music lover. One of my many headcanons is Raven's dad got her into music as a bonding activity between the two and the guitar used to be his before he passed it down to his daughter.

Personally, Raven's is my favorite room design (that we got to see) and if I had the budget, I would remodel my room like hers.

As stated above the room Briar (and Ashlynn) are currently living in the same dorm as Raven's mother (and Cerise's mom). I believe Raven lived in her mother's dorm during freedom year (freshmen year) or will live there her final year, and like many boarding schools/ colleges students don't live in the same room every year.

In the color palette it says imperial gold, but I see black in the color scheme, sure there's 'gold' in the flooring and candlelight, but maybe this was an early idea that the creators had to unite Raven and Apple in a way.

Despite being the future Evil Queen, Raven spends the least amount of time looking at herself in the mirror, gotta love irony. It was also mentioned in the book that Raven tries not to compare herself to Apple since that's what lead to her mother going off-book and vain, so she avoids them.

I believe the wide-eye girl was Brooke, which means besides Maddie and Kitty, she's the only non-Wondelander to see a narrator (lore).

We were able to see the jewelry box when Raven was getting ready for her date in 'Date Night' and an actual was available like Apple's. The jewelry we saw Raven take out of the jewelry box were mainly a silver ring and a chain necklace; so, her jewelry is mainly chains, spikes, and amythest. On the bracelet one of the charms is a potion bottle and Raven does have a potion/ bookcase (can be seen in one of the above images) that I wish we saw in use.

In the getting fairest line Raven has a nightstand where she places her high collars during the night. It wasn't seen in the show, but it's somewhere in her dorm.

We only saw glimpses of Raven's destiny vanity in the webseries. In 'Unfairest of Them All' Raven was heartbroken when Baba Yaga Hut's baby destroyed it., luckily it was rebuilt. The vanity has a built-in keyboard and a brush that looks like or doubles as a microphone. Raven is usually seen with her headphones on, listening to Taylor Quick, playing her guitar, or playing on her keyboard at her vanity. She probably spends more time making music than looking at herself.

Like Apple's diary in her fainting couch I think Raven keeps the books in the vanity's cabinets and reads them when she's alone.

The closet and evil throne (not shown) are only seen in glimpses since furniture appears when it is needed. At first I thought Raven was the only student with a fireplace in her dorm, before we saw 'Epic Winter' on Briar's side of the dorm has a fireplace as well, so I guess each dorm has a fireplace on one side of the room. To keep warm during the cold months and having two fireplaces is a bit much and a fire hazard.

At the beginning of 'Croquet Tastrophe' Apple was first seen in Raven's side of the room for some odd reason. But, wait, Apple has a mug in her hand for some reason. Which made me think Raven owns a coffee machine that she lets Apple use sometimes.

The girls do have a balcony (pretty sure everyone at the school has one) that the girls like to go out to get fresh air during times of stress and peace. In 'Apple's Princess Practice' they have a zipline which I'm pretty sure Briar set up.

Well, that's the first of the dorms, now to the next.

Images can be found here: EAH wiki, Royal&Rebelpedia, and @teatimewithmaddie .

#ever after high #everafterhigh #ever after rebel #ever after royal #eah #ever after high headcanons #raven queen #apple white #dorm room #my art

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detroitbecomeonline · 6 months

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Themes and stuff in DBH I enjoy so much:

Family (Mothers/Fathers/Sons/Daughters)

Lost/Found/Looking

Red vs Blue

Day vs Night, Shadow vs Light

Death vs Life

Denial

Animal motifs (Bird in a golden cage/Mother bear/Dog on a leash)

Chess and Strategy

Love (Familial/Romantic/Platonic)

Self Preservation and the Preservation of Others

Survival and Sacrifice

The Approval of Others and Self Worth

Eyes/Seeing/Waking Up/Reality

Perfection (Price of Perfection/Futility of Striving for Perfection)

Memories (Being reset/Forgetting/Never forgetting anything/Bad Memories/Remembering)

Religion (rA9 and android believers/Christian themes such as the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Jericho itself, Rising From the Dead, etc.)

Morality (Killing)

Mirrors (Reflection of Self/Recognising Intelligence/Vanity/Introspection/Identity)

#There are heaps more but these are fun for me to think about <3 #dbh #dbh meta #mydbhbrain #mine

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whiskeyswifty · 5 months

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Feel free to bank this ask if you need more time but what are your overall thoughts? I feel like I won’t be able to ever rank this album bc it straight up doesn’t feel like an album it more feels like she was like 🤲 here ya go! Which I don’t mind too much bc there’s plenty for me to dig into here but I’m always curious to hear your takes! :)

i fully took your permission to bank this and sit on it, so thank you for that haha but FINALLY i think i can talk about it with enough perspective and time with it where novelty or initial vexations have worn off. I think for the sake being respectful of people's sensitivity (not a value judgment) i'll break it up into positives, net neutral thoughts and criticisms. So you can skip the critical section if you're unable to handle frank but thoughtful criticism of her and her work (again not a value judgement, do whatever you need to enjoy what you want to enjoy. i just enjoy engaging with art critically and it is my blog after all). I'm sure i missed something, and i'll babble about it in the near future, but for now this feels like a good place to stop and share where I've landed.

My TTPD songs on repeat (in no particular order):

The tortured poets department

down bad

so long london

but daddy i love him

florida

guilty as sin

who's afraid of little old me

loml

broken heart

smallest man

clara bow

the black dog

i'mgonnagetyouback

i look in people's windows

so high school

the prophecy

POSITIVES:

loml upon first listen was my favorite and is probably the most Taylor swift song on this album, in the best way. the soft and emotive voice, rising with anger and cracking with pain. the piano and the rhyming structure of the bridge being a cascade of couplets, and even the conceit of the song! taking a well known acronym loml and despite the song being a heartbreak song, still using it in the song the way you expect. luring you in and getting you to let your guard down, knowing to wait until the right moment, and then on the LAST LINE subverting that expectation devastatingly. it's got all the swiftian motifs; the longing that lingers despite a betrayal, the magnetism of an old flame that you can never quite stamp out, haunted by it, passion as fire as it but also how it consumes and destroys, being a fool for love, the burden of remembrance and willing yourself to forget. you name it, this song's got it. just really a remarkable little gem of a song.

but after the anthology came out, loml was usurped by the prophecy. it's absoutely my favorite like hoooooooooly shit. this is what i LOOOOOOVE hearing about from her. the perspective of time!! the self reflection!! the tension of what you want vs. what you think you deserve!! The guitar plucking at the start every time makes me go AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH and the way she jumps up and down in pitch or whatever in the chorus??? WOOOOOOOO THATS THE GOOD SHIT.

the title track really grew on me (and i have supplanted the fairly obvious subject with someone else that suits my taste so i have a ball listening to it. i won't say cuz people are fucking weird on here about deviating from the ~truth~ for their own personal enjoyment but my buddies know and we all agree it makes it so much more fun). I love the melodic way she sings on this song, and it's my platonic ideal jack production, where it's imitating that 80s emotional garbled synth a la new order or erasure or the cure. i eat that shit uppppppp. that final bridge/ring situation though is..... not great and is only saved because of how the way she sings it and how it tickles my brain.

THE BLACK DOG!!!!!!!!! THE. BLACK. DOG. HELLOOOOOOOO WHAT A TUNE WHAT A SONG WHAT A SPECIFIC GIFT FOR ME. literally the starting line lyric gets me every time like WHAT A NICHE EMO BAND NOBODY KNOWS HUH. fun fact, at my moms house recently i found this framed school assignment from when i was like 14 or 15 or something. we had to do a mock front page of a newspaper as an icebreaker activity, you all know what i mean if you know what i mean. And under the music section i put "I love to listen to The Starting Line and The Killers" like askfjalskjfsadklfj. taylor clearly wrote this song about me and sorry i did all that i guess, but you can keep stalking me it's fine.

Clara bow of course absolutely incredible closer, incredible song that i've waxed poetic about several times already so i won't bore you with repeat rants. just a stunner. a curtain close of a closer as the crowd jumps up for a standing ovation.

Aaron on this album.... my guy..... WHAT a showing from someone who has jumped aboard the taylor ship and steered it into incredibly rich directions!!! i think most of my picks for My Version of this album are aaron songs, and even when i thought it was a jack song and i was ready to congratulate jack on finding a sweet spot again..... oops it was aaron ajsdlfkdsfjlkdsjflsd. THE GUY!!! THE DUDE!!! LETS HEAR IT FOR UPSTATE NEW YORK!!!

NET NEUTRALS:

album proper is very solid and fun to jump around! it took me a few listens to really dig into it, but i like it. i don't think i love it, and i think it's a middling ranking somewhere in my ranking overall. Also, I don’t think the order is particularly important, as none of these songs really need to go before or after one another as they have little to do with each other. Which is neutral, and how honestly most albums are, and I'm pretty fine with how it is now . And anyway, play through-concept albums are rare and specific but a different beast than your standard album. I’m fine with how it is because I listen to different songs in different orders each time depending on my mood. but i'm also not interested enough in the subject matter to play around with it too much. I think the album proper is a good distillation of this project's songs with a little bit for everyone in there, which to me is a marker of success, even if i would swap some anthology songs for album proper songs.

I’m not invested in her romantic life anymore, and i've noticed that seems to be one of the top complaints or roadblocks to enjoying this album, which is understandable. Especially when this one is incredibly unsympathetic, as is the sentiment writ large (and if I did care about her personal life, I would have those same roadblocks so lol). But I don’t think her diaristic songwriting is overdone or she needs to hang it up, which i've seen some people complain about. I think at this point, her choice in subject matter is what is key to the success of it. Her love life in a 2024 social landscape is yes comparatively straight, white, privileged, and because the romantic lives of people in that demo have been begun to be de-centered in culture over the course of her career, it’s now boring and rote, and we've had centuries playing out the cyclical drama of straight, white, and privileged people. But rather, her fame is what really is worth writing about imo. that’s what’s juicy about her now and what people wanna know, if she’s going to trade on personal details of her life as song fodder. She’s in such rarified air and songs that delve into how she feels about it are the best on this. what it has done to her? what has it driven her to do? The longer she spends in this machine, what does she decide is most valuable? What is worth it and what isn’t? What did she think would change and what did she think would stay the same, and which of those things was she wrong about? I love hearing about all the answers to questions like that on this album, and also answers to questions I had that she perhaps gave away unknowingly and quite…. Unbecomingly but still delicious none the less. Where we usually get one or two songs about fame per album, she has a nice handful on here and it’s so curious to me, especially considering she wasn’t raised among it. She’s an avatar for the common man in Hollywood in some ways, but losing touch with the common man more and more each day and I love seeing that documented, and how she has a self awareness about that, if no idea what to do about that. if she’s now the monster we made her, I wanna get to know that monster in all it’s ugliness and vindictiveness and whatever else lurks in there, and it seems she too is tired of caging it.

CRITICAL:

i loathe the anthology concept, mainly in how quickly she dropped it. i think the album proper is solid and dropping all those additional songs lowers the batting average significantly, as noted in many critical reviews of the album v. the anthology. I personally chalk it up to her experience with the vault tracks' success, which she mistakenly took as ALL of her songs are great and she should cut LESS of them. when the reality of that was they were received with such excitement because they had the lore of being vault songs, and they were ways for us to revisit eras of her musical styles that have long since passed, and there is IMMENSE novelty in nostalgia. I also think that if she pays attention to middling or negative reviews both from critics and fans alike (which i don't think tree puts on her desk, but she might seek it out for whatever temperature check reasons she has so i won't rule it out) she would have seen how midnights' "bonus tracks" or whatever you want to call them were received pretty unanimously as a great batch of songs, compared to polarized reactions to the album's original songs. perhaps that inspired her to approach her album release this time around by throwing spaghetti songs at the proverbial wall of an audience and seeing what sticks. i don't know if this is.... a bad approach? I don't feel great about it either, but it certainly is interesting coming from someone sooooooo meticulous in every other instance of her Taylor Swift brand in recent years. (or maybe she really did think every single song on the anthology was worthy, and that is perhaps my greater fear).

all jokes aside, I don’t actually think her and jack’s relationship has run its course in terms of inspiring one another to do new and exciting things, I just think perhaps some editing is required. I’m firmly of the camp that it’s not jack’s fault for something sounding how it does, as most people who work with him are quick to take offense to that and say that he very much is an employee as a producer. The artist is always the boss. Of course lesser artists or ones who are more friendly with him may be less honest, because of intimidation/gratitude or fondness respectively, but on the whole, it seems like he is at their mercy and will. And has the range to make music across many genres and composition styles. That being said, I do think there is a comfort in him and Taylor’s working relationship, of course because of their personal one, and that perhaps has become a bit of a hinderance to her. (He continues to make incredibly wide ranging stuff with other artists and his own music, so he stays pushing himself and being pushed) I don’t think what they make is bad, when it’s the least successful, but it’s a tad rote, heavily trodden, and flat. Perhaps the flatness in her voice on some of those songs is her trying to compliment an instrumental that is a bit flat, which is trying to keep pace with her vocals that are flat, and so on and so forth and there is no culprit but just two flat bitches saying exactly to each other. But it’s extremely frustrating if only because we have, on this album even, examples of when they both really blend beautifully and push towards something unique and exciting (Broken Heart, Black Dog, imgonnagetyouback to name a few). I would just like to see more development of sounds like that and exploration of that more boldly, as even those songs dance at the edge of progressing stylistically, but ultimately shy away from fully embracing something new.

it’s very interesting that this album does not have the same retention that her other albums have had with me, at least not instantly or in the weeks after. And what I mean by that is songs are not getting stuck in my head that much. I do not want to revisit them immediately after listening to them, and when I do, some of them have somewhat diminishing returns. And I asked myself why that is and the greater existential question of what is music supposed to be. And I think midnights is a great album to compare to this album and maybe history will make sisters of these two albums, it’s too soon to tell, but with proximity as something to inspire comparison, I think they’re great to talk about in conversation with each other. Midnights is an album that many critics and many longtime Taylor Swift fans did not enjoy to the degree of her others, and some new fans who came to her during folklore were turned off by her returned to pop in a way that some felt was empty. But what is interesting about midnights is despite the fact that the rich text isn’t really there or well articulated or particularly inspiring, the bangers are there to be so crass. Songs like antihero and bejeweled and even karma every time I would return to them or listen to them again I could not get them out of my head. Even though the lyrics are next to nothing or are the simplest versions of those concepts, the marriage of the lyrics with the melody is perfect. I wanna listen again, I get them stuck in my head, I wanna dance to them. Very little of that is on this album currently, even with songs I like or love. There are songs that I enjoy more with each listen, yes, and chew on lyrically and composition wise, but the bangers are not here, not like they have been in the past. if midnight was her putting bangers over substance, this album is her putting substance over bangers. I don’t know if either of those things is the right way to make music, or if there is a right way to make music.

This gets into the existential question that is far beyond her, and not her responsibility to answer, that is what purpose does music serve as an art form. What metrics of success do we measure it by, obviously charts and financial success not being competent measures for art? And should music, which is perhaps the most populous and accessible form of art we have on planet earth because of the universality of a banger, maybe err on the side of bangers as enjoyability is it’s main purpose? Which is to say that should it always put the song over substance? If you can manage both, which she has historically been able to do time and time again, then by all means do so. But if you find yourself wanting to choose between the two, in the aftermath of this album I think my personal feeling is this. If you’re gonna write poetry, just write poetry, but don’t tell me that it’s a song if it doesn’t bang. And I don’t mean that it has to be a pop song, I am being a bit glib. I mean that I should want to listen to it. wordiness and any flow disruptions because of it should not take priority over the fact that it it a song and it should be pleasing to listen to, more so than it needs to be poetic. This album is a bit indulgent in the latter and i feel the songs that couldn't bend to the will of the "poetry" suffered. I think that’s ultimately what makes this album so easy and delicious to talk about because it is forcing us to ask these questions. Not just of music in general, but of Taylor Swift who, in a lot of ways, is a microcosm of the music industry. No I don’t mean that ~she is the music industry~ silly way that people refer to her. But I mean in the way that Taylor is a good case study in asking ourselves what we want from music because she is capable of all of the things that music is capable of. Even further, it’s us asking ourselves what we consider to be successful music. I recognize that this is an incredibly personal question for everyone in the sense that the success of music and art is a subjective opinion and that I am once again wading into waters where my feet don’t touch the ground but I do think it’s what makes talking about all of this so fun and why I find it to be an engaging and important and stimulating debate that we will probably have for eternity, or at least as long as Taylor Swift keeps making music.

#i'm not going to answer the other anons asking about my thoughts directly #so this one is for ALL of you!#and i'm so flattered that you even care what i think lol so thank you for sending those! i was probably going to post my thoughts anyway #but it's nice to have some encouragement :)#my silly little essays

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sxnyarostova · 1 year

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it's almost been a year since i first hyperfixated on into the woods so let's get back into my cinderella bullshit! people seem to forget that into the woods is a satire sometimes so let's state that real quick before i get into the nitty-gritty-- on the steps of the palace is meant to be funny-- satirical, if you will, and cinderella's character arc is meant to be reflective of someone who slowly grows to scorn societal expectations of how women should react when faced with the choice to marry a rich handsome prince.

okay so let's get into why i think my beloved itw cindy can be read multiple ways; first, we've got the aroace lens. her dissatisfaction within her marriage with the prince, her disregard for romantic love, almost? she evidently does not want this. she likes (or is she forced into liking) caring for people in the platonic sense; when it comes to romance, however, she starts to quail and i think that's really quite interesting. this response can also be read into her not wanting a man for a romantic partner (lesbian cindy is my favourite reading but let's not get into that; that deserves a whole brainrot post), being pressed into marriage with the prince because it's what society tells her is right for a woman of her age and station, or just, you know. WANTING TO SOCIALISE WITH PEOPLE AT A BALL, because the only people that she converses with at home are her demeaning stepfamily, distant father, and the birds who flutter in occasionally to help her with things.

the last one is where the satire really comes in, i think, because what cinderella wants is freedom and autonomy; not a prince. that is why she struggles so much with making that decision of staying or leaving; she's never been in control of her fate before and she doesn't know if she should go with what society wants or what she personally wants, so she ultimately concedes her power of choice and lets the deus ex machina to do it for her. I've got a whole other post about the motif of decision making in itw somewhere on my blog (if you go to the into the woods tag and scroll back far enough it'll be there) but yeah. that's all i wanted to say i guess. i think this last bit is reflective of what happens in society; we long for something, but when it's given to us, we throw it away because we're unsure what to do now that we've got it. crazy, huh.

#into the woods #cinderella

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thehaniverse · 2 months

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[Han Radio 📻 #1] TXT - Chikai ✨ Album First Listen & Review

Eh hem.

Yes, I am aware this album dropped 2 weeks ago. And yes I am aware that Jimin's <Muse> dropped today, and I still have not written my RM <RPWP> review, but you know what, bite me - life happens!

Anyway, now that I've finally had a second to get my mind straight, and I will likely be hearing all of these songs live in Osaka next weekend, I'm finally ready to give <Chikai> my first listen and share my personal thoughts on the album!

So without further ado, let's jump in!

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Track 01. We'll Never Change [Title Track] My Rating: 8/10

One thing I can confidently say about TXT is that their title tracks always hit the mark - and for me, their more ballad/RnB songs always match my taste perfectly - this song being no exception. 😌

The distorted piano rift at the beginning of the track creates an enchanted atmosphere, which I find is reminiscent of the unique fairytale influence that has become characteristic of TXT's concepts and musical message. Then it's complimented by the juxtaposition between the thumping of the bass representing a racing, anxious heart against Beomgyu's ethereal vocals which are instantly soothing.

My favourite part is definitely the pre-chorus with the repeating 'let go let go let go' motif - particularly in the second verse with the transition from Soobin to Beomgyu's voices. I think these two really have soft airy voices that truly compliment this track. And the layering of the other members' voices underneath really adds to the magical and emotive mood of the track.

I think using Yeonjun to build up the tension in the first pre-chorus, and keeping Hueningkai and Taehyun's more powerful vocals until the choruses was a great choice to build the atmosphere. On the flip side, I do have to say this song lost points for me because the chorus just didn't hit as hard as I was expecting for how much it built up the emotion. (It felt like all that build-up with no payoff?! 😭)

Again, Soobin and Beomgyu's voices really complete this song for me, the reprise of 'you you' after the chorus just causes my emotions to swell and both of them have these beautiful forlorn vocals, which goes wonderfully with the message of the song.

Speaking of the lyrics, I think the song is pretty transparent with the meaning from the title alone - it's a beautiful reflection of a promise between two (or more) parties to never forget their relationship regardless of how far apart they are and what else may change around them - they themselves, and the essence of their relationship will never change.

The other gripe I have with this song is the typical 2024 complaint, but the song is just so short 😔 I would have loved just one more chorus at the end, potentially with the more stripped-back audio and distorted piano and then a final crescendo of all the vocals and music... but yeah, streaming so short songs.

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Track 02. Deja Vu (Japanese Version) My Rating: 10/10

Okay, as a self-identify 'translated song hater' - I have to say this is one of the best translated tracks I've heard in a long time! I don't know if it's a mental block or what, but in my 17 years of K-Pop, I have always found listening to translated songs SUPER jarring, even if I hear the translated one first, I could just tell.

And that does somewhat apply to this track too, like Hueningkai's rap and the chorus sounds a little staccato but otherwise, it's not a half-bad effort. (Honestly, the only song I can say is flawless is TXT's {Your Light}, but that's probably because they intentionally recorded all 3 language versions at once. I still only listen to the Korean one though! 🤧)

It also doesn't hurt that Deja Vu is just such a bop of a track. I loved it in <Tomorrow> and I love it in <Chikai>, and I love songs with dope fan chants too, and this is just hitting all the marks for me!

//I'm not going to get into the lyrics because I'm far too lazy to check if the translation matches the Korean, but if you want me to review the original <Tomorrow> album or at least {Deja Vu} track, then lemme know.

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Track 03. Kitto Zutto My Rating: 7/10

I'm SO happy they kept an upbeat song after {Deja Vu} on this album just like they did on <Tomorrow> because my body was just waiting for {Miracle} to play, so having this album have a truck that's equally high tempo and high tension was great.

I also think this song is really tailored to the tastes of the Japanese audience, it would fit right in as the OP/EP of an anime or game - however, I do think that could hurt its marketability elsewhere. (However, it's no secret that K-pop idols' Japanese songs really do well outside of Japan, so maybe they just don't care at this point.)

For me personally, I do think the transition between the verses and choruses could have been a little smoother, the sudden change in the tempo of the vocals from the subdued verse to the upbeat chorus is a tiny bit jarring. In their defense, they do build up a little, which lets you know the speed change is coming, but it's just not my style and this is my review so... (It's also just a lot on my sound-sensitive ADHD ears.)

Nyangnyangs are taking it vocals-wise for me in this song, but Hueningkai starting the bridge was an absolutely artful choice, his voice is just perfect for those moments, especially in Japanese songs.

All in all, while it is a good song, it's definitely going to be one of those I enjoy when it comes up on shuffle, but isn't necessarily a track that I will search for, that's why I capped it out at 7 points.

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Bonus: We'll Never Change [Choreography] My Rating: 10/10

WOW. Just WOW.

Honestly, my heart hurts so much for Beomgyu because I can only imagine how much they all practiced for a routine this artistically stunning.

When I talk to others about TXT, I often comment on how absolutely breathtaking their live performances always are, and this song is no exception at all.

The incorporation of their stage outfits into the dance, and the way the harp-like movement actually compliments the piano motif in the music is just... URGH, I LOVE IT.

I really hope Beomgyu's condition has improved by Osaka as it would be an absolute honor to see the first complete version of this stage in all its glory - but if not at our show, then I hope he is able to perform before the end of the Japanese leg of the tour.

While I know I said Japanese songs usually aren't that popular overseas, I do wish that K-pop idols would perform one or two of their Japanese tracks throughout the whole tour - especially artists with such amazing Japanese tracks like TXT.

If I'm completley honest, seeing {Ring} live is one of the major reasons I even wanted to go and see them in Japan so badly. It is undoubtedly my fave of their Japanese songs, and arguably one of my fave TXT tracks in general (the cute lyrics and Taehyun's vocals just blow me away every time) - so yeah, anyway, please show some love to your fave J-tracks and maybe we can set a new president.

Anyway, my final rating for this entire single album is a solid 8/10. While it's not perfect marks, with so few songs (one of which is a remake), I think it's a fair score for what we were given.

TXT never fails to impress me with their ability to add their own color to everything that touch, and the magic truly is never lost. <Chikai> is a fantastic way to round off this chapter and I'm excited to see what they bring us next once Act: Promise has ended.

One thing we can be sure of is that their unique musical identity will never change~!

//Okay, cheesy ending aside - I'd love to hear what you all think of the album, and if you agree or disagree with my review. This is genuinely my first listen so my mind may change in the future, but that's the beauty of first impressions.

Till the next one! Thanks for tuning in to Han Radio! 📻✨☺️

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