#the third idea is just poetic and beautiful

[brokenhardies]

i have... three ideas for how athel's involved in the group hdywtdt;

-idea number one (when she had more levels of ranger) - uses grasping vine to hold uka'toa down

-idea number two - similar to what vex did in that group hdywtdt; she shoots an arrow into the bottom of uka'toa's jaw and another arrow through the crown of his head

-idea number three - she marks the mighty nein's symbol into uka'toa's side either with one of her arrows or her shortsword like how he marked fjord with his symbol

[sage-nebula]

When The Owl House first came out, there was a lot of discussion surrounding how King could potentially be Bill, with the most common theory being that Bill had somehow been reincarnated into King by the Axolotl. After all, not only does Alex Hirsch voice both of them, but the voice he uses for King is very similar to the voice he uses for Bill. (Very similar, but not the exact same; apart from not having the voice distortion, King's voice is higher pitched. King's voice is basically Bill's voice before Bill hit puberty, lmao.) Apart from that, both King and Bill are demons; King had an obsession with ruling, power, and conquest; King has yellow sclera; and, well, people were desperate for connections between Gravity Falls and The Owl House, to the point where I actually did end up pretty annoyed for awhile that people weren't letting The Owl House stand on its own two feet and were instead treating it like a sequel show. (Though there are actual, canonical connections between them now, the most notable being that Eda married Stan for less than 24 hours in Vegas so that she could rob him blind, lmao. He still thinks fondly of her to this day, as he should.)

I bring this up because I never really subscribed to this theory, or thought very much of it . . . until now. It's not that I think the theory is more plausible now, but more that I think that the idea holds a sort of poetic beauty to it now, if it was true. (Which again, I don't think it necessarily is, but more that it's a nice "what if" to think about.) And the reason for that comes from information that we gained from The Book of Bill, along with additional information that we've now gained from the website, along with how King's story arc developed and played out in The Owl House. (So, spoilers for that show, the new book, and the website if you haven't kept up with any of that.)

Essentially:

It's been heavily implied for years now (to the point where, in my personal opinion, it was known, but to be safe I'm saying heavily implied) that Bill destroyed his home dimension. In the show, Bill says that he "liberated" his home dimension, and when he brings it up, there is fiery imagery around him that is similar to the rift that opens in the sky to link Gravity Falls to the Nightmare Realm during Weirdmageddon. Then, in one of the spinoff books, when Dipper asks the Axolotl about Bill, the Axolotl says, "Saw his own dimension burn [. . .] blame the arson for the fire." Considering that Bill said that he "liberated" his dimension with fire imagery, and the Axolotl says that he saw his dimension burn (and blames the arson, rather than the arsonist for the fire) . . . the conclusion can easily be drawn that Bill's "liberation" was actually "destruction." Which makes sense, when you remember what he wanted to do to Earth during Weirdmageddon.

Nonetheless, we have had that confirmed now thanks to The Book of Bill and the website. We know that when Bill tries to recant what happened to his dimension, there is a loud ringing in his ears and he blacks out; we know that he looks "more distant than [Ford] had ever seen him" when he tries to recount the story to Ford (implying dissociation; we know that he told his henchmaniacs the "liberation" story and that he freaks out when Time Baby tries to speak openly about what actually happened and who actually caused it; and we know that, during his therapy sessions in the Theraprism, when the therapist tries to turn the discussion to his parents, he shuts down discussion altogether. (And also only draws red and blue triangles during his art sessions, implying that may be what his parents looked like.)

So we know that: Bill destroyed his own dimension, that he's the sole survivor of the massacre, that he was severely traumatized by this (because he didn't intend to massacre his entire people, he honestly was trying to help them see what he could see -- the third dimension) and that he just handled his trauma in the worst possible way, particularly since he did not have anyone left to give him a support system. A billion years without a proper support system or any form of healing, sinking further and further into denial, rationalization, and detachment (outlined on Bill's page on morality as his tools of the trade), lying until his lies were no longer lies to himself, made Bill into the monster he is today.

But then the Pines family defeated him (thanks to Stan), he invoked the name of the Axolotl, and got sent to the Theraprism. He hates it there, and he is so deeply entrenched in the lies-he-no-longer-recognizes-as-lies that he is not making any progress. As Alex said at one of the Barnes & Noble Q&As, what Bill really needs is to actually be honest with himself, but it's unknown if he will ever be able to do that. Until he can do that, the hope of him actually making progress at the Theraprism is nil.

But here is the thing about the Theraprism. Well, here are the two things about the Theraprism:

The first is that we are told that the Theraprism is a place specifically devoted to reincarnation. The reason why the "King is reincarnated Bill" theory was popular before was mostly due to the reasons I mentioned above, but also because of another line in the Axolotl's poem: "A different form, a different time." People understood this to mean reincarnation, and it's easy to see why. But for me personally, I always found it a bit strange that the Axolotl would simply let Bill reincarnate simply by calling out for help. Would that really be all it took for the Axolotl? True, the Axolotl is the god of this universe, and Jesus (from how I understand it) is all about "accept me as your savior and you're immediately absolved of all sins," but I also felt that was just too easy of a Get Out of Death Free card for Bill. It was a very clean getaway, considering everything.

But The Book of Bill makes it evident that isn't the case. As it is described by the Theraprism employee in the book:

"Here at the Theraprism, we believe death can be the beginning of a new life. With good behavior, former wizards, world-eating titans, and even Mr. Cipher have many exciting options for reincarnation -- perhaps as a newt, shrimp, or a cloud of fungal spores!"

The Axolotl also made this clear to Bill (though Bill misunderstood entirely:

"You cannot regrow through denial. You'll have to face my hardest trial. See my program to the end, then you may yet live again. You're getting what you need the most; one way to absolve your crimes, to change your form will take some time."

Now, many of you are probably thinking: a baby titan from the Boiling Isles is a huge leap from newts, shrimp, and fungal spores. I would agree with you; it seems that the Theraprism does tend to pick very lowly life forms for the big bads they rehabilitate to reincarnate into. But here are the reasons why I think it would be poetic if it were King, and therefore why I like to think that it would be nice if this were the case:

Like Bill, King is the last of his kind. Unlike Bill, this is through no fault of King's own; the other titans were wiped out before King even hatched, and King's father had to hastily inscribe runes to protect him from the titan hunters (or archivists?) so that they couldn't find and kill him as well by destroying his egg. Nonetheless, King is the sole survivor of a genocide and this is something that weighs heavily on him and influences his character arc in a big way in the second half of the show. The fact that he doesn't know what he is lends struggle to him trying to discover who he is. Yes, he's in a family of misfits, but Eda and Luz know what they are and who they come from. King doesn't have that. King has no basis for what he is, or why he was abandoned -- none of it. And then when he does finally start to get answers, it's to learn that his people were massacred in a genocide; that there are people still out there who want to kill him; that he is going to grow to be a deity-like figure, that he'll outlive those he loves . . . King is a child of about eight-years-old, but he has so, so much weighing on him already.

But where Bill accidentally destroyed his dimension and killed everyone in it, and then was crushed under the weight of that trauma because he was left alone and covered in blood, King did have that family of misfits to support and love him through it all. He was still burdened by the fact that he didn't know what he was or where he came from, but Eda, Hooty, Luz, and eventually Lilith gave him unconditional love and a home and support to figure all of that out, to the point where it was King's idea to be formally adopted by Eda and change his name to King Clawthorne. And while he will eventually outlive them all, he made a friend in The Collector who is also immortal, so he'll never be truly alone.

Essentially, what I'm getting at here is: there are parallels in Bill's and King's story, now that we know Bill's backstory. They aren't the exact same, especially since King was not responsible for what happened to the other titans. But there are still parallels that can be made. But whereas things ended as badly as they could possibly end up for Bill, King's story had a much better ending. So if we imagine that Bill was reincarnated as King, then it is almost like he got a do-over. Like he was put in a similar situation, but this time he was found by a new adoptive mother who raised him with love and care, and got an adoptive big sister, and owl tube house mate, and aunt, as well as a ton of friends. He suffered trauma, but this time he didn't have to suffer it alone, and was able to handle it in a much better, much healthier way. Yes, he's an all-powerful demon (or at least, he will be someday, when he grows into an adult). But this time he isn't going to be causing any apocalypses, or delighting in any mortal suffering. This time, things are going to be different for him, because his soul completed the Axolotl's program in the Theraprism and he was able to reincarnate for that second chance.

(And if you're thinking, "But The Owl House doesn't take place that long after Gravity Falls, so how is that possible?" Well, the Theraprism exists outside of time and space, so it doesn't matter how many millennia it takes for Bill to complete the program. He literally has all the time in the multiverse.)

So I'm on board with this theory now. Again, I do not think it's canon. But it's a nice idea, and one that I think has a poetic sweetness to it. No one has to agree, of course, but that's just my take on it.

[saphronethaleph]

Who the Edda you

The door to Odin’s study opened with a dramatic thud, which wasn’t quite the crash that Thor could manage but was still quite passable.

“Father!” Loki began, without preamble.

“Loki,” Odin replied, turning around. “You seem upset.”

“Congratulations, you can tell,” Loki replied. “I don’t suppose your all-seeing eye has told you why I’m here?”

Odin frowned, then shook his head slightly.

“I don’t know that,” he said. “I know you went to Midgard recently.”

“Well, of course you’d know that,” Loki agreed. “But I have to ask. Am I adopted?”

Odin winked.

“...what?” he asked, mostly to buy time.

“Because some of this stuff is complete nonsense,” Loki went on, slamming a book down on the nearest table.

Odin saw that it said Prose and Poetic Edda, but Loki just kept going. “I mean, really, complete nonsense. It’s impossible for you to conceive of just how ridiculous this is, I read the whole thing and according to this book’s version of things, Sleipnir is my son.”

Odin stared for a moment, then looked at the book again.

“Sleipnir…” he repeated, slowly. “The horse.”

“Yesss,” Loki confirmed. “I understand your confusion, old man, because I very much share it. Admittedly they do have an explanation, but – that’s not even the only child I have in this book! I also have a sea serpent, a giant wolf called Fenris and a half-zombie woman called Hel!”

Odin coughed.

“They what?” he asked, coughing again. “...where did you even get that book, anyway?”

“Book store, while I was waiting for Thor to finish… being Thor,” Loki replied. “Amazingly enough, they quite like books down in Midgard. And some of the things they mention in it are quite familiar. A lot of names, for example, though it’s astonishing what they get wrong. Heimdall’s in there, he’s described as the whitest of the gods.”

Odin looked at the book, then out the window towards the Bifrost (which wasn’t actually visible from this angle), then back to the book.

“And you’re using this book for information?” he asked.

“I said it got all kinds of things ridiculously wrong,” Loki said. “That’s why I’m asking you. I have to say, though, if some of the details here are correct then I’m very much looking forward to them.”

He picked up the book, and flicked through to one of the pages with a turned-over corner. “For example, according to this story Thor and I go on a heist to get Mjolnir back after someone steals it.”

Odin now looked even more baffled.

“Couldn’t Thor just call it back to his hand?” he said, despite himself.

“I don’t know, but knowing Thor he may have forgotten,” Loki said. “And I was apparently having too much fun with the heist plan to actually mention it to my brother… what with how the plan was to disguise Thor as the most beautiful of the goddesses, and insist on the dowry being Mjolnir.”

He smirked. “I do suspect that I came up with that idea. It has my flair.”

“Aren’t you getting it out of a book, right now?” Odin asked.

Loki’s expression soured.

“Fair point,” he admitted. “Did you really pluck out an eye and impale yourself to gain omniscience, though?”

He gave Odin an askance look. “And if you did, is that an Asgardian thing, a parent thing, or just… you, being yourself?”

“...does that book say I was impaled?” Odin asked.

“To death, actually,” Loki confirmed. “Apparently you got better. I don’t pretend to understand.”

Odin frowned, thinking.

“If there’s some deep, dark secret, do tell,” Loki requested. “I know a huge part of this book is absolute nonsense, but some of it is extremely telling and I’ve even got some ideas from it. I should really try shapeshifting into an eagle and flying around some time.”

He made a face. “Not doing a mare, though.”

“Why not?” Odin said, again trying to buy time to think.

“According to the book – which, again, I know isn’t true,” Loki noted, “Sleipnir came about when you’d hired a giant to build the walls of Asgard but didn’t want to pay him. About two thirds of the work was done by his magic horse, and apparently I seduced the horse.”

Odin nodded, slowly.

“Loki,” he said. “My son. I can tell you that that part of the book is Millennial nonsense.”

Loki blinked.

“...what’s a Millennial?” he asked.

“People born this millennium,” Odin clarified. “So, anyone under nine hundred and eighty years old.”

He paused.

“Oh, and – yes,” he added. “You were adopted, but I wanted to wait until you and your brother were mature enough to accept that.”

“You don’t think I’m mature enough now?” Loki asked, hurt.

“I do know about that time you had a bet with Thor to vanish out of a plane in mid-flight,” Odin said. “And, before you ask, that’s both of you that I mean.”

Loki frowned.

“I concede that,” he said, sounding pained. “All right, I’ll try to process that.”

He picked up the book again. “Though I may need to stay away from mistletoe from now on. Getting involved with that particular plant doesn’t seem to end well for me…”

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Don't you think it's funny cause actual canon gay characters in BL manga will say "I love you" but only the shounen bromance can spew out some of the most romantic shit akin to a 19th century poet writing a letter expressing his surpressed love for his lover 😭.....

Genuniely can't tell if it's bait or not, but I'm going to treat this ask seriously anyway.

Here, have some examples of beautiful and poetic expressions of love in BL media!

I'm going to start with my favourite murder husbands, Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu from Word of Honor/Faraway Wanderers!

This happens in episode nine, less than one third into the story- it's that early, they've known each other for like a week and are already able to tell they're meant to be. They've made their decision to be together, and over the course of the story:

They defend each other multiple times and fight side by side in multiple episodes, sometimes protecting their adopted kid/mentee Chengling as well

Zhou Zishu is willing to go against the whole martial arts society for his boyfriend. With zero hesistation, might I add.

They both know the other has done horrible things (lots of murder on both sides here) and that's not only okay, it's a big part of why they're soulmates and get each other so well!

Zhou Zishu is slowly dying (poisoned nails in his chest, long story) and Wen Kexing can and will risk his life to save him. Don't worry, they get a happy ending both in the show and the novel even if the show's last episode is behind a paywall and Netflix didn't even include it for some reason?

But enough about them, let's move on to the immortal fantasy genre boyfriends Hua Cheng and Xie Lian from Heaven Official's Blessing!

Please note how Hua Cheng is ready to accept Xie Lian in whatever state he's currently in- as a god, a fallen outcast, even grieving and angry and at his absolute lowest. He's stood by Xie Lian in his worst moments, even if at the time Xie Lian had no idea it was him.

Hua Cheng has loved Xie Lian for 800 years, ever since he was a boy Xie Lian saved from falling to his death during a procession.

Xie Lian became a god, then fell due to horrible circumstances, almost committed a war crime against another nation that destroyed his country, spend 800 years wandering the mortal realm as a poor cultivator with his powers greatly reduced, and eventually ascended to become a god again. Throughout it all, Hua Cheng loved him and did his best to help him and then find him.

They're both adorable and the definition of a power couple once they're reunited- no spoilers, but they eventually fight an incredibly powerful god side by side and win & the last scene in the story is them reuniting for good since there's no more obstacles to their immortal love.

Let's move on to my favourite Japanese BL, Our Dining Table (also available as a series that came out semi-recently, but the examples below are from the manga.)

Yutaka is a lonely salesman who meets Minoru, a restaurant worker and his much younger brother Tane grieving the death of their mother.

Yutaka and Minoru hit it off by bonding through food they cook and share. The series is incredibly heartwarming, and as seen above Yutaka becomes a much happier person thanks to both his new relationship and big brother-like bond with little Tane.

As a little bonus, the whole found family together!

This post can't be complete without Golden Stage (or Golden Terrace, as the English official translation calls it).

Fu Shen and Yan Xiaohan aren't even in love at this point! This is at the beginning of the story, when their marriage has just been arranged by the emperor and they're still bitter rivals.

Yan Xiaohan is already protective of his future husband- later on, he also builds him a mansion meant to accommodate his disability (nerve damage in both legs, which requires a wheelchair and/or crutches). They're both incredibly powerful military generals, and the emperor was an idiot thinking an arranged marriage would humiliate them.

Of course they fall in love, of course they're a power couple, of course they send each other letters through trained geese when they're separated during the war, of course they run to each other as fast as they can across a wide cold river when they're finally reunited! Of course they're important to me!

....Aaand how about some Wangxian to wrap up this post? They need no introduction, an absolutely wonderful and complex relationship in a complex fantasy/intrigue story available in several forms - the books, the animated series (as seen above), the live action series, the audio drama, there's so much!

Some of their most beautiful moments:

Lan Wangji writing a song for Wei Wuxian and naming it Wangxian. Years after it's composed, Wei Wuxian plays it and LWJ is able to recognise him even in a different body.

LWJ begs WWX to come with him to Cloud Recesses, to safety, after WWX makes himself an enemy of the whole cultivation world for protecting innocent people.

They confront the final villain together, and work together to expose his crimes. This is also when their final love confession happens, and it's hilarious- in front of everyone's salad, WWX declares he also wanted to sleep with LWJ.

Despite censorship, the animated series was still able to allude to their wedding, showing them in red wedding robes (unfortunately can't find a gif rn)

Respectfully, if you genuinely think BL doesn't have beautiful love confessions and displays of romance, you need to find better BL.

[mask131]

Greek monster myths (1)

Various mini-articles loosely translated from the French « Dictionary of Feminine Myths », under the direction of Pierre Brunel. (You could also translate the title as “Dictionary of Female Myths” – the idea being all the myths centered around women)

Article 1: Gorgô

[Note: this mini-article is distinct from the mini-article about “Gorgons”]

The appearance of Gorgô, at the end of the eleventh chant of the Odyssey, is meant to cause fright – not just to Odysseus himself who is just done with invoking the dead, but also to the audience hearing this rhapsody (the Phaeacians listening to Odysseus’ tale), and to the very listener of the Homeric poem. Gorgô forms the dominant peak of this “evocation of the dead” (nekuia), she is the “chlôron déos”, the “green fear”. Odysseus’ mother, Anticleia, just disappeared back again nto the Hades – the hero wishes to summon other shades, such as those of Theseus and of his former companion Pirithous, “but before them, here is that with hellish cries the uncountable tribes of the dead gathered”. And Odysseus adds: “I felt myself becoming green with fear at the thought that, from the depths of the Hades, the noble Persephone might sent us the head of Gorgô, this terrible monster…” (633-635). It is barely an apparition, it is the possibility of an appearance, but it is enough to terrorize the living.

Jean-Pierre Vernant, in his work “La Mort dans les yeux” (Death in the eyes), establishes the link which ties together Gorgô and Medusa. Because Gorgô is more than a singular unification of the three Gorgons: she is a superlative form of Medusa, she is what happens when her petrifying gaze survives beyond death. By studying the depictions of Gorgô in ancient statues, Vernant establishes two fundamental traits: the faciality, and the monstrosity. He explains that “interferences” take place “between the human and the bestial, associated and mixed in diverse ways”. Maybe Gorgô is, as Vernant suggests, “the dark face, the sinister reverse of the Great Goddess, of which Artemis will most notably be the heir”. But Gorgô is also placed in the function of watchful guardian of the world of the dead, a world forbidden to the living. The mask of Gorgô expresses the radical alterity of Death and the dead.

Article 2: The Graeae

Daughters of Keto and Phorkys (they are thus also called “The Phorcydes”), sisters of the Gorgons, these divinities of shadows, which were born as elderly women and doomed to share one eye and one tooth for all three, appear exclusively in the tale of Perseus and Medusa.

The most ancient mention of the Graeae comes from Hesiod’s Theogony, which only counts two of them and names them Pemphredo and Enyo (Enyo was also the name of a goddess of war within Homer’s Iliad). The third of the sisters appears within a fragment of the Athenian logographer Pherecyde: Deino (“The Dreadful”), later called Persis by Hyginus (in his “Preface to fables”). Other authors, like Ovid, prefer to stick with two Graeae. Hesiod makes a quite flattering portrait of them: he makes them elegant goddesses with a “beautiful face”, even though they were “white-haired (understand “having white hair due to old age”) since birth”. And while their very name means “old women”, the Antique iconography actually follows the Hesiodic model: the depictions of the sisters as disfigured by the effects of time are quite rare… At most the artists will just put a few wrinkles. These mysterious hybrids between youth and old age, virginal seduction and sinister ugliness, finds an echo within a few lines from Aeschylus “Prometheus bound”: “Three ancient maidens, with swan bodies, that share a single eye and a single tooth, and who never receive a look from the shinng sun or the crescent of the night.” Aeschylus had an entire tragedy written about them (Phorcydes) which was unfortunately lost – but Aristotle wrote about it in his “Poetics” and implies that the play insisted on their monstrous aspect, placing them within the legendary area known as “the gorgonian fields of Kisthene”, and closely associating them with their sisters, of which they form a reversed image. Indeed, the Gorgons have a very powerful eyesight which no mortal being can face, while the Graeae have an extreme form of blindness. This trinity of women, old by nature, can also be understood as the antithesis of the three Charites, the Graces which embodied eternal youth.

The Graeae seems to have only a role within the myth of Perseus. And, outside of a few details, this legend does not change much from Pherecyde to Ovid’s Metamorphoses, passing by Lycophron, Apollodorus’ Bibliotheca, and Hyginus’ Astronomy. In all those versions the Graeae are the jealous keeper of the secret path that leads to the Gorgons, and Perseus must steal their eye in order to obtain the knowledge needed to reach Medusa. However, Pherecyde did change an element: according to him the Graeae do not protect the path leading to the Gorgons, but rather the path leading to the nymphs that hold the magical items Perseus needs to fight Medusa.

Due to their limited presence in Greek mythology, the Graeae have quite a poor cultural posterity. In the 19th century Goethe will remember them: in his “Second Faust”, Mephistopheles appears under the guise of “Phorkyas”, a monster with only one eye and one tooth. In the world of paintings, Edward Burne-Jones, who created a true “Perseus cycle”, had a strong interest for them: he worked for a very long time on a painting of the Graeae. Their face is barely visible, but the cloth that wraps itself around their body is menacing ; they are within an arid desert, under a dark sky heavy with clouds – they perform a sinister dance, in a mockery of the Graces. Perseus comes to steal their eyes, and the grey color that invades all the nuances of the picture symbolizes the unique presence of those strange crones, both disquieting and pitiable.

Article 3: Echidna

Echidna, “the viper”, is according to Hesiod the daughter of Phorkys and Keto, themselves born of Pontos, the Sea, and Gaia, the Earth. Echidna’s sisters are female monsters like her: the Graeae, and the Gorgons. Hesiod describes her as having half of the body of a “fair-cheeked nymph”, while the rest of her body is the one of an enormous, big, cruel, spotted and terrible snake which “lies within the secret depths of the divine earth”. Echidna as such belongs to this large mythological family of snake-women, of which the most famous case in France is the fairy Mélusine. But unlike Mélusine, Echidna can never leave the snake-half of her body, and thus a better French heir would be Marcel Aymé’s depiction of the vouivre with her cohort of vipers.

Theodore de Banville, when he imagines Hesiod scolding him for sanitizing Classical mythology, makes of Echidna the symbol of the archaic mythology: he tells him that he is “making a toy out of the history of the gods” by depicting Love as “a sweet child, free of carnivorous appetites, ignored by the Furies and by bloody Echidna”.

Echidna precisely appears as a being led by an amorous desire within Herodotus’ tales, that he claims to have collected among the Greeks of Pontus Euxinus: as Herakles was sleeping, Echidna steals his horses away. She only agrees to give them back if he sleeps with her. When Herakles leaves her, she tells him that she will bear three sons from their union. He advises them to only keep with her one that would be able to bend a bow just like him, and to force the others to leave. She does that, and this favorite son is supposed to be the one that created the Scythian people. This meeting between Herakles and Echidna might be derived from the famous encounters between Herakles and three of Echidna’s other children: the Nemean Lion, the Hydra of Lerna, and Cerberus.

In Aeschylus, Orestes compares his mother, Clytemnestra, to “a horrible viper”. Sophocles has Creon call Ismene, which he believes to have helped Antigone, “a viper that slid in my house against my will to drink my blood”. These examples show a link between the Ancient metaphorical speech, and the mythological allusions. Indeed, only the context can allow us to determine if these authors meant “viper” as a common name, or as a proper name: as “Viper”, “Echidna”. But it confirms the idea that, in Ancient Greece, Echidna is a monster born of an archaic fear of the women, and embodying their supposed perfidy.

[cheetahsprints]

Lingyi fic rec list!

In case anyone floats into the tag and needs this. Personal and without review/explanation because brain too rotted. I just adore this tragically non-canon pairing almost as much as our main guys.

💌 trust my love - panpipe - E - Chapters: 1 - Jin Ling confesses his feelings, and Lan Jingyi has to muddle through the aftermath. (The aftermath is they're in love.)

🕊️ best friends forever - varnes - T - Chapters: 1 - Jin Ling and Jingyi get engaged. Things spiral from there.

⚔️ Can’t Keep Holding My Breath - singingintheshower48 - T - Chapters: 2 -  Two post-canon snippets about Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi enduring growing pains, enduring a war, and somehow finding their way together.

🔥 how can i find the words to say (love has surely shifted my way) - annadream - G - Chapters: 6 -  Jingyi’s steely eyes blazed brighter than the flames surrounding them and in that moment Jin Ling knew he was in love with this loud, obnoxious fool.

📱 the song stuck in my head - poefucker (drbubblegum) - E - Chapters: 7 - Waiting until his third year of college to finish off his last actual gen ed class is absolutely a mistake, and Jingyi proudly admits to it. Public speaking is an unfortunately necessary evil. Or: the juniors have that college experience like the movies show us.

🧞‍♂️ over, sideways, & under - poefucker (drbubblegum) - T - Chapters: 10 -  Jingyi goes nighthunting. It should be that simple. But somehow, after a fateful encounter with a rude, runaway boy and getting trapped in a cave, he's strongarmed into bringing disaster upon the whole of the cultivation world by summoning the infamous Yiling Laozu for unknown purposes. Except now he grants wishes and is actually really funny for an evil spirit. Weird.

🙇‍♂️could someone call a referee - poefucker (drbubblegum) - T - Chapters: 1 -  The one where they go to prom.

📦 all there’s left to do is run - poefucker (drbubblegum) - T - Chapters: 1 -  Lan Jingyi helps his professor move in with his husband. The day doesn't end up like he expected.

🐇 what must it be like to grow up that beautiful? - taetaeloveschimmy - Not Rated - Chapters: 6 -  Jin Ling is in love with Lan Jingyi and he's not exactly thrilled that he's finding this out about himself. Meanwhile, Jingyi is also grappling with his own emotions and complicated history with Jin Ling, leaving both of them unsure of where they stand with each other.

📑 A Guide to Dumbasses Getting Together - Midori_99 - T - Chapters: 5 - Lan Jingyi pines, in poetic melancholy fashion like a true Lan, bemoaning his fate of falling in love with someone as difficult as that Spoilt Mistress Jin. Too bad his love would forever be unrequited and there's no way Jin Ling would ever look at him that way! Lan Sizhui and Ouyang Zizhen would like to disagree. "Mission: Get an overworked Jin Ling to rest and an idiotic Lan Jingyi to stop pining and just confess already, commence!"

📝 Jin Ling’s Heart Is So Big Because It’s Full of Bad Poetry - corduroyserpent - G - Chapters: 1 -  If Jin Ling had learned anything about love in his sixteen years of being alive, it was this: love made people crazy. Sometimes love made you do things like write horrifically bad poetry. It happens!

💝 Oh no- Jiujiu!!! - You_know_yeah - M - Chapters: 1 -  Jin Ling takes a break and fucks off to the Cloud Recesses to "study". Jiang Wanyin follows with the threat of paperwork and leg breaking. All Jin Ling wants to do is kiss his boyfriend and chill :(

🦊 Chasing Gold - albsyant (transtobio) - T - Chapters: 9 -  Jin Ling expected this to be just a regular night hunt, but it didn’t even last a day before disaster struck.

Lan Jingyi, meanwhile, had no idea what to do with the fox that seemed determined to cuddle against him 24/7. What had done this to Jin Ling, and could he please get his prickly cru-friend back?

🌧️ bending the clouds - Jenki - G - Chapters: 1 - Jin Ling's father left him destined to become a leader of the earthbending sect but he didn't leave him his earthbending skills. On the other hand, his mother's waterbending talent was the reason for all of his problems. But he had learned how to isolate himself and hide his secrets and feelings from everyone.Until one day an airbender from Gusu discovered his secret and, with the help of his friends, began to do his best to make Jin Ling feel loved.

👨‍🏫 just because you’re an idiot doesn’t mean you can’t go to college - theinkquiry - T - Chapters: 1 -  “So Lan Jingyi asked you for help to get Professor Wei and Professor Lan together. Does… does he not realize they’re already married?”

“No.” Jin Ling rolled his eyes. “Because he’s an idiot.”

[shroudandsands]

Prompt #3: Tempest

Her wings swirled around them both. They cut through the air with ease. Each of them as a limb that she’d been born with. Each of them as a part of her in a way that nothing else could be. Which is why it was particularly frustrating to lower them into Sawyer’s grasp for the third time today.

“Now, Heartlight,” Came that ever-steady, ever-rolling voice beside her horn. She was bent slightly so that she might both bear her wings and steer her thoughts. Her hand was on the small of Amesha’s back. The tickle of electricity that curled the tip of her tail was a small consolation for the frustration. “Try again.”

Her brow furrowed, her heels twisted and dug into the dirt. She felt the indentations of her sandals mark themselves like they might just form the roots she’d prefer she had. Perhaps to anchor herself. Perhaps to weather the sheer storm of annoyance that came with this moment and territory. She really did mean well. Her wings were the most extraordinary gift she’d ever received. Better than life. Better than all its joys. The sudden freedom they gave her. The changes they wrought in her being. The way she went from “was” to “is” in her own mind could hardly be described in anything but the most esoteric and abstract poetry. It’s a good thing she was the exact woman for that sort of thing, then. Less of a good thing that this meant the love of her newly lived life was encouraged to find more and more ways to enhance that piece of her. Sawyer’s penchant for creation was a wonderful thing. A beautiful thing. A fantastic thing that left her without sleep for suns on end and oftentimes leaving random cups of tea on whatever surface she happened to be near when an idea struck her and she couldn’t do anything but follow its whims back to her workbench. Or dinner table. Or the floor, given the way her fixations often went. And so it was this newest thing was born. Her new wings. Amesha sighed. Her new wings. Fine.

To say they soared to her side would be a poetic nicety that she wasn’t entirely willing to make. These weren’t light, crystal feathers that were meant to be a part of her body and soul. These were… Her heartlight called them Practical. They rocketed from their distance away as the wayward edges of her soul hooked onto them like weights. She could feel them hum, sing, reverberate back in response as they came to life. As they hung onto her senses and weighed down her thoughts while they came to a hesitating halt around them both. She let them move as she would let her arms rest by her side- They spiraled about her in jittering, jilting flight. They sunk for a moment, rose, too high now- then came to an unsteady circle in rest. She felt like she had a sweater wrapped around her head. But Sawyer whispered her encouragement as she watched these new wings float. Remarks falling from her lips about their motion, the status of their cores, how she seemed to be getting along with their new additions. She tried to listen to all that her heart spoke.

“Okay,” Sawyer’s voice in sharp clarity beside her head again. Her hands on her waist. “Try out the-” The four wings slammed into the ground. Amesha felt heat burn across her face, under her scales. Sawyer’s hands lifted. “…Maybe try now, Heartlight.” She almost couldn’t stand how pleased Sawyer sounded. That slight undercurrent of suppressed laughter. The love that drew out the beginning of their name together. The surety of it as she stepped around to pick up the dropped wings. The wings hummed back to life as she took them back into her soul’s grasp; as Sawyer released them to the air.

She just had to funnel her magicks through them. Just like the normal wings. It was so natural with them. It should be the same with these. Sawyer had made them, and changed them, to be especially suited for it. Amesha held her breath, pointed the four of them, and dug in her heels.

She hadn’t quite known what the intended result was. Something about increasing their conductivity- Improving her connection. Amplifying the output of her magic. Going by the fact that she was now being held by Sawyer, who was laughing in a glee that was generally reserved for sudden thunderstorms, and the reality that she was fairly certain she’d blown herself off her feet… She was probably going to be using these wings more in the future.

Great.

[zarvasace]

Another Point in Favor of Vidow

By this point, many of us in the Four Swords manga fandom are aware of the relationship that is (or maybe isn't) implied between Vio and Shadow. I agree that it is up for some debate, but also my opinion is that the relationship is as clear as it can get, operating within the bounds of its context—that is, early-2000s Japan, kids' manga, the bias against gay couples.

This is just another pin on the conspiracy board of red lines!

The moon is present in three main places during the Vio/Shadow arc—very first (and most damning) when the two meet one-on-one, once in a panel showing the Fire Temple that the two are hanging out in, and once behind the two as they ride on the dragon to cause chaos. (Many thanks to @hauntinghyrule for helping me find those!)

There is a common belief in Japan that the author Natsume Souseki once told a student that their translation was wrong. They'd translated "I love you" as "kimi o aisu," and he thought it was far too blunt. He was a product of the Meiji era, and preferred the idea that the Japanese language should be more poetic and subtle. He then proposed the idea that instead of "ware kimi wo aisu," one should say "tsuki ga kirei desu ne" instead, which translates to English more as "the moon is beautiful, isn't it?" (You can read more about that, and why the guy might not have actually said it, here!)

You can see where I'm going with this.

Whether or not Souseki actually said it, the phrase is widely understood to be a sideways way of saying "I love you." The moon has a lot of meanings in Japanese culture and language, and I won't say that this is the interpretation, or if our lovely authors meant this at all, but they might have. They seem fond of hinting at it. ("We feel blessed that the characters' feelings came across so clearly.")

If we can read into the presence of the moon as presence of romantic possibility, what happens then? Well. A lot.

When Shadow first approaches Vio, he's seen hanging out on top of a pine tree with the moon bright and full behind him.

This isn't the actual manga panel, I don't have that right now, but this art was based on that specific scene, and you may recognize it. There are a few other panels this scene that Vidow shippers like to call out—Vio's apparent blush when Shadow casually moves his sword away (a power move regardless of intent that made me fall in love with him), or the way Shadow hangs on Vio when persuading him to turn to the dark side. If we can read the moon's presence as a hint towards romance, then it's pretty clear what's being implied here—there's an element of seduction.

The second place we see the moon is just after Vio and Shadow's heart-to-heart on the balcony, one of the only canon interactions between them during this period without a lot of plot happening. Here's the panel I mean:

Like hauntinghyrule pointed out, if the moon is visible here, it was likely present during that conversation. That feels like reaching, but I think it's pretty significant that we can see the moon in this panel, too. It's here for that bonding moment. It's part of establishing the tone and setting. If the moon is inherently romantic, then so is this scene.

And then the third panel that the moon is seen in is this one, Vio and Shadow flying on a dragon to bring chaos and fire:

If the moon means romance, then this is a date. They've had their moment, they're in love, all is going well.

It might not mean that much. I could be veering into atla-levels of overanalyzation, for sure! However, this feels like something that could definitely be intentional. "月が綺麗ですね" is understood to sort-of kind-of mean "I love you," turning the moon into a symbol of implied love.

And...it's very thematic, even if it isn't intended. Come on. The moon, hinting toward unspoken romance in some of the scenes where Vio and Shadow's dynamic is at its most stable? Dramatic. Amazing.

...You could read even more into it, and say that Vio is Shadow's moon—reflected light of the Hero or the Princess, guiding him to see the good, a desirable light in the darkness that Shadow insists he has to stay in. There's something lovely about that interpretation, too. :)

[doggone-devil]

By the Cover: Chapter 1

Behold! A secondary novel for me to write while I work on my other one XD No, but this idea has a chokehold on me so of course I had to write it. Pairing: Alastor x afab!Reader Warnings: none for this chapter~ Word Count: 2,517

"I waited for you my entire life and you were worth every minute." - Mark Anthony

Two lovers, hand in hand, facing the odds of the world around them. A poetic tale of how love triumphs over everything, not even the Universe itself able to keep them together. A romance little girls dream of as they watch their idols on screen, fantasizing about the day they'll be swept off their feet into a happily ever after. Such a beautiful hope, a goal they could one day accomplish, unlike you.

Wrapped in a well-worn blanket, you sit on your couch with your nose buried in the latest episode of your favorite show. The second you received the notification of its release, your were scrambling to go to the streaming site, the show queued in your favorites, ready to play. Giddy with excitement, you began to watch, engrossed in the plot as it furthered, the various characters building the hype of the upcoming climax. As much as  you loved seeing them, your eyes waited patiently to recognize one character in particular.

There.

An audible gasp escapes you before a high pitch shriek, your toes wiggling to try and exert some of the built up energy you felt just from seeing them appear. Red hair dipped in black, fluffy ears, and captivating red eyes. You swoon when they speak, voice filtered to sound like those old 1920s radio broadcast. Some fans find the voice annoying but you swore it was an angel speaking, your body shivering in response to their words. They were the love of your life, your hyperfixation, your absolute obsession.

Alastor was the their name, a very powerful Overlord and one of the main characters of your favorite animated show, Hazbin Hotel. It had appeared and swept many into it's fandom, becoming favored next to the other show released by the same creator, Helluva Boss. Granted, you still loved that show and watched it when the episodes came out, but this one - you squeal - this one had you in an iron grip and all because of the radio demon so graciously displayed on screen.

Granted, you realized your quick fascination with the character was a bit problematic. Firstly, he was manipulative, scheming, and in it for only for him. He didn't care, really, about the other characters, even having a near breakdown when almost dying for them. You were certain if he existed in real life, he wouldn't be as lovely as you dreamt him to be, but that didn't stop your heart from skipping when you saw him. It also didn't stop  you from spending your hard earn money on countless fan merch, his face decorating every pillow, blanket, and object you owned. Even the phone in your hand had his face on it, smiling at you with hooded lids. Yes, you had a problem but you weren't stopping any time soon.

"Another perfect episode," you sigh, letting your hands drop to your lap as you lean back into your couch. The credits roll and you happily stare up at your ceiling, thoughts already plagued by him. He was so cool this time, not that he wasn't all the time, but this time he had been so sassy. You were already thinking of ways to write about it, ready to tell others in the fandom how baby girl coded he was. You giggle, tossing your blanket off your legs. You stretch with a groan, looking back at your phone to note the time. Your stomach grumbles.

You hum as you walk to your kitchen, looking in the fridge for something to eat. You weigh your options of a ketchup sandwich or mayo sandwich. Tough decisions, both sounding very appeasing, but you opt for the third option. You grab your keys and hoodie, tugging it over your head as you slip on your flip flops. You may only have sixteen dollars left after purchasing that one Alastor keychain, but it was totally worth it. Besides, you only needed eight of it to buy an everything bagel and coffee.

Basking in the sunlight for a second once you step outside, you head down the sidewalk from your duplex home, steering clear of other pedestrians as they mosey about. It's clear out, the cold air leftover from winter barely noticeable with no wind, the sun warm as it hangs high in the sky. A very nice day to enjoy as you walk, wondering what it'd be like to take Alastor to a small café. You tilt your head down to keep others from seeing your goofy smile, unable to hide the joy you feel of imagining Alastor critique the food.

He would probably comment on the way it's processed, stating how homecooked meals were the way to go. Oh, how you'd give anything to taste a meal cooked by Alastor. From what you knew of his backstory, he loved to cook and enjoyed a good jambalaya. You weren't raised southern, nowhere close as you recall your hometown in Michigan. You grew up with cabbages and kolackies, a drastic difference from shrimp and gumbo. Granted, you have tasted the Cajun dishes, curious to know what they tasted like when you discovered Alastor's birthplace, but you wanted them cooked by a real southern man. No, you wanted them cooked by Alastor, otherwise they just couldn't be as good. Shame.

You're greeted by a barista as you walk into your favorite café, breathing in the air deeply, enjoying the favorable scents that assault you. It's just a small business a block away from your house, easy and fast to get to. It had the best bagels you've ever tasted and the coffee wasn't half bad, either. You step in line, eagerly waiting behind three other customers while you roam the menu above. You already know what you'll order but it doesn't hurt to see what's new, checking their daily specials. Today seems to be an in house blueberry muffin, complimented with a drink of the customer's choice. It's appealing, but you're not that big a fan of blueberries. Or muffins.

"Excuse me." You hear the voice before feeling the shove, a person squeezing in the line to get through. You step back to avoid them, yet your foot gets caught on the other. You begin to fall backwards until a firm body stops you. You turn to apologize as you regain your footing, but your words get caught in your throat. You see a man standing behind you, his hands fixing his bowtie, but that's not what makes you speechless. He's tall, very tall, with bright red hair and tan skin. As he looks down at you, your breath hitches. His eyes are almost as red as his hair and you wonder if they're contacts. They have to be, you think to yourself, no one's eyes are red. It's not a natural color but they look natural. You must be staring too long cause he clears his throat.

"Sorry!" you blurt out, quickly turning to face forward, realizing a gap between you and the customer ahead of you. You scamper to move up, nearly tripping over your feet, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. You try not to think about the man behind you or his stupidly good looks. Seriously, how chiseled does one jaw have to be? You could cut marble with it. You focus on anything but him, staring at your feet until the barista is asking for your order.

Bagel and coffee secured, you walk to your usual spot in the corner of the café, a window table with two seats. It's comfortable and spaced far enough away from the other tables to let you enjoy your food in peace. You shrug out of your hoodie as you sit, hanging it on the back of the chair. You take a bite of your bagel, moaning softly at the seasonings popping off on your tongue. It's simple and yet, to you, so delicious. Pulling out your phone, you go to scroll through some apps, but your attention is caught by a red coat passing by. You glance up and nearly choke on the bite you swallow. The man from before settles at a table close to yours, only a coffee in hand when he sets it down. He also pulls out his phone, paying no mind to anything around him. Unlike you, your eyes glued to him. You swear he seems familiar despite never seeing him before.

He's wearing nearly all red, minus his black pants. His coat is a deep red, matching his hair. The undershirt is white, however, and you notice black gloves on his hands. Huh, you chuckle to yourself. He almost looks like Alastor, the clothes very similar and even his build - You blink. 

Oh my god. Oh my fucking god, you think, eyes wider than the plate your bagel sits on. You quickly look away, your hand slapped over your mouth at the realization. You just compared a real person to a fictional character. 

You take another glance, trying to study him more. He's tall like Alastor, slender for sure, but you can't really tell with the coat on. He's style is like that out of the 1920s, just like Alastor. A tailcoat, collared undershirt, bowtie, and even dress pants completed with dress shoes. Just slap a monocle on him and he could be Alastor what with the slanted, bob haircut had had. God, if you had your cosplay Alastor ears and antlers, you'd ask him to wear them and call you darling.

No, wait, what's wrong with you? Ugh, you're so creepy and you need to stop staring so much and - oh my god, now he's staring back. Idiot!

You take interest in your bagel again, taking a rather large bite as you struggle to chew. You begin to cough as the pieces roughly slide down your throat, eyes watering as you reach for your coffee. You're gulping it down to help the food along, gasping for air. You hear a snorted chuckle and look up, seeing the man cover his mouth with the back of his hand, avoiding your look. You can see the smile and blush, realizing he watched all of that. Could this get any worse?

You sigh, wanting to bang your head on the table. Instead, you reach for your phone, knowing tumblr will distract you. Only, the Universe decided today was the day to pick on you and as you reach for said phone, your arm bumps your coffee. It spills. All over your table. All over you. You want to cry.

"Here." You see the man walk over to you, extending his hand to offer a handkerchief. You take it, sniffling with a pout.

"Thank you," you mumble, wiping at your now ruined top. It was white ten seconds ago, now stained brown. As you wipe, the liquid spreads. You sigh in defeat, knowing you'll have to throw it away when you get home. Thank god you have your hoodie.

"Here, let me," the man says, taking the handkerchief gently from your hands. You let him, too embarrassed and sad about your shirt. He smiles as he dabs at your shirt. "Wiping only helps the coffee to set. You have to dab for the best results." You watch him, slightly annoyed at the way he fusses over it like a dad would, but you're not angry. In fact, you feel kind of in awe as he moves, your eyes glued to his face. His nose is pointed and sharp, eyes angled like a cat. His lashes are long, complimenting those strange red eyes. You try to see if they are, in fact, contacts, but as you lean to get a closer look, they snap up to meet you. You jump back, knocking into the table. Your coffee cup sways but before it can spill again, he reaches out to steady it. You sigh in relief.

"Sorry," you apologize.

"You have a clumsy habit, don't you?" he hums, chuckling when you pout again.

"Not usually," you state, turning to grab your hoodie when he steps back. You can't help but feel so small when he straightens up to full height again.

"Really? I couldn't tell." It's a banter, but you're failing to think of how to respond. You're not use to actively conversing with people in the real world, most of your conversations being with friends online or AI chatbots. Ok, maybe you didn't need to think about the last one, but the fact still stands that you don't know how to talk to people. Especially people as attractive as he is.

"Well," you grab your bagel and what's left of your coffee, "as fun as was to bother you and embarrass myself, I have to go." You need to escape, more like it. Your social battery is already beeping in alarm, drained from the back to back events that was your attempted outing for lunch. You throw your trash away as you leave, not taking the chance to look back at the man.

As you walk back home, you can't help but think of how the scenario could've played out different. If you were a normal person, you could've held a conversation with the man, maybe even inviting him for coffee tomorrow. You could flirt and date until, one day, he would ask your hand in marriage. Then you would have kids, grow old together, and live a life well filled. At least, that's the person your mother wanted to be. A normal woman with a normal love life, finding a man to support you and give her grandkids. Sadly, that was never going to happen, you think as you step into your house. If the seven foot cardboard cutout of Alastor greeting you at your front door wasn't enough to deter potential mates away, then surely the numerous framed Alastor posters scattered across your walls would.

Maybe you should cancel that order for the Alastor cursed cat plushie…

Nah.

You toss your keys down and kick off flip fops, pulling your hoodie off to grimace at the disaster that is your white-turned-brown tee. Yeah, there's no getting this stain out and you weren't about to buy some fifteen dollar produce that claims to erase the stain. You shrug it off, opening your kitchen bin and tossing it away. It doesn't bother you too much, thankful it's not one of your Alastor shirts. Speaking of, you walk to your bedroom, going straight to your dresser. You rummage through your shirts before picking one and putting it on. This was one is black, Alastor's face printed on the front with the words 'Smile Like You Mean It' placed around him. It's one of your favorites.

Shuffling back to your living room, you decide to ease your stress with the one thing you know will put a smile on your face. Sitting on your couch, tucking your legs as you bring your blanket back over your body, you quickly open your phone to its browser. Archive of Our Own loads up and you quickly begin filtering through the latest additions to Alastor fanfictions.

Masterlist ... Ao3

[thefreakandthehair]

happy valentine's day, @legitcookie! I was so excited to get you as my giftee, and I hope I didn't go too, too off the mark here! <3333

Steve Harrington has always loved Valentine’s Day. 

A hopeless romantic at heart, he knows he’s a complete sucker for all things love and hope, right down to the otherwise lame stuffed bears holding equally stuffed hearts with the words I love you sewn into the fabric. He’s found, however, that Valentine’s Day may as well be Tax Day when you share it with someone you can’t imagine ever wanting to spoil with chocolates and flowers, nevermind scrounge the clearance bins at Walmart for. Unfortunately, this year, that’s where Steve finds himself— on a date at a gay bar hosting it’s annual Valentines Day Emo Night, conventionally attractive but loathsome man sitting next to him waxing poetic about who even fucking cares what anymore, kicking himself for thinking that this was a good idea. And kicking himself for having this last drink, not tipsy enough to convince himself he’s having a good time but just tipsy enough to know he won’t be able to drive for a while. 

A sea of couples surround him— hightops are full, the bar is full, the dance floor is full— and Steve just feels kind of… empty.  My Chemical Romance plays over the speakers, and not even the raspy screaming and strobe lights excite him. He’d rather have been with Robin truthfully, even if it meant third wheeling her date with Nancy, but instead he’d decided to make one more go of it. One last ditch attempt at the dating apps, one last hopeful swipe and offer extended for drinks. Stupid fucking idea that was, he thinks as he washes down the last of his rum and coke. Really, he just wants to go home, and sulk, and maybe doom scroll with a pizza until he reaches the end of Instagram. 

Dan— or is it Dave?— continues on about himself and how great he finds himself as Steve lets his eyes wander. Couple after couple entirely immersed in one another, jumping around when appropriate and swaying otherwise, until Steve’s eyes land on who looks to be the only other single guy in the bar tonight. He also happens to be one of the most beautiful men he’s ever seen, which certainly helps distract him from what’s-his-name’s monologue. And sure, Steve knows it’s impolite to stare but he just can’t help himself. 

Mystery Man is sitting at a lone hightop in the corner of the room, drink in one hand and phone in another, dark curly hair splayed out over his shoulders just obscuring what looks to be some kind of tattoo just below his collarbone. A leather jacket hangs heavy over his frame with black, torn jeans and laced up combat boots completing the look. The glint off Mystery Man’s ring-clad fingers as they flit across his phone ricochets in different directions and colors as the lights bathe him in oranges, reds, and pinks. Steve watches long enough to decide that orange is definitely his favorite of the hues, mesmerized by the way it warms up his otherwise bored, or maybe frustrated, face. 

Maybe I won’t go home just yet after all, he thinks, trying to conjure up an excuse to get over there. Steve’s so busy staring at the stranger that it takes him a solid minute to notice the neon Bathroom sign right next to him. 

read the rest on ao3!

[threeking]

... ⠀⠀יִיִ⠀𝃣 ⠀⠀ writeblr intro ⠀⠀ 💌 ⠀⠀ ── ⠀⠀ ;

hello ! my name is third king january but feel free to call me third or january ( or any other nickname you'd like ) ! i'm a twenty two year old black lesbian pursuing a graphic design major with a minor in art history and creative writing—considering media studies—who uses they/them pronouns !

ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ :⠀ 🍓. i think this may be my third or fourth time trying out a writeblr, but the other attempts didn't go well since i was busy and didn't put a lot of effort into interacting with my mutuals </3. this time around, i really want to be a part of the community and be more supportive of everyone's writing! my goal for this account is to share my wips, any writing, and keep motivated to do more than just stare at a blank document for hours </3.

i'm a big reader and i plan to share some of my recently reads on this blog. please feel free to send me book recs if you think it's something i might like or if you just wanna ramble about something you read that you really liked! my favorite genres are horror, magical realism, fairy tales and fantasy. i love beautiful prose that's almost poetic and ambiguous writing that has you questioning everything until the grand reveal.

my favorite books are: bunny by mona awad, deathless by catherine m. valente, and how to win the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone. the last two books helped me understand the kind of writing style i want to strive for as did poetry !! i don't have a whole lot of fav poems, but worm king's lullaby by richard siken is one that's always spinning in my head.

alongside reading i like manga, webtoons, videogames, and anime. my all time favorite anime is hyouka followed by angel beats and clannad. my favorite webtoon is omniscient reader's viewpoint and i can't recommend it enough. it's soosososo good! ( i started with the webtoon before switching to the novel bc i was too impatient to wait for the updates ) my favorite games are the halo series and oxenfree.

other interests of mine include music, drawing, art, watching youtube videos, journaling, horror movies, and sleeping 😴. i have a few graphic novels / webcomics in my wips so i'm learning how to draw to make them a reality! i also have a video game that's tied to another wip so i'm getting into coding as well !

please never be shy / afraid to tag me in ask games, send me an ask, or even a message! i also have a discord ( username: thirdking ) if you'd like to add me and message me there. also never think or feel like you're bothering me or anything if you wanna say hi or ramble about your interests. i'm always looking to make new friends !! 😁

i ask that minors don't interact or follow !! thank you !!

i have a handful of wips that's been running laps in my head for some time now but these are the ones ( excluding shorter stories ) that aren't multimedia projects or animation ideas, but i may talk about those anyways 😋 since most of these are still in the outlining stage they're subject to change but i'll make sure to update anything to reflect those changes !

📝 𖹭 ⠀ֵ⠀ wip one ; spring ( technically untitled but springs gna be in the final title )

the story follows two ex band mates reconnecting in their adult years after they parted ways when their front man signed a major record deal.

📝 𖹭 ⠀ֵ⠀ wip two ; sisyphus

sisyphus stars three siblings at the center of a conspiracy 1!1!1 the oldest sibling, an astronaut, goes missing during a privately funded space mission embarking to a new planet found in the solar system. i wouldn't call this a greek retelling, but it does a feature a lot of nods to classic greek myths!

📝 𖹭 ⠀ֵ⠀ wip three ; atwe

atwe follows the mother of a teen superhero getting revenge after her kid is killed by an unknown villain. though it's my own special take on superheroes featuring my personal criticisms on teen heroes, it's also a study on family—in particular—distant family relations and saying i love you a little too late.

📝 𖹭 ⠀ֵ⠀ wip four ; march marchen ( title will definitely change )

march marchen is my sort of alice in wonderland / fairy tale retelling that follows an unnamed girl in what might be wonderland trying to figure out who she is and who she isn't. ft parallel worlds, escapism, the fear of childhood, and the fear of adulthood.

📝 𖹭 ⠀ֵ⠀ wip five ; neapolitan ( title will definitely change )

neapolitan is a magical girl webcomic / graphic novel. the story follows a trio of girls becoming the successors of a long line of ice cream inspired magical girls. ft a bright fun palette, gore, and cannibalism! though it's a webcomic, i intend to give it a novelization from the perspective of a different set of magical girls.

if you'd like to be added to a taglist please send me an ask! it'll be easier for me to keep track ! thank you for reading <3

[radiowallet]

Promise

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Marcus Moreno Summary: Dieter gets a gift while away on location. WC: 1.9K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Sexual content. Exclusive M/M dynamics. Written in third-person POV, male protagonists, allusions to smut, and dirty talk. Mentions of food and drug use. Small angsty moments. Yearning. So much yearning. AU Marcus Moreno (no wife, no Missy). A lot of purple prose and waxing poetic in this one, besties.

A/N: We're back with more of these boys. What can I say? I am obsessed with their dynamic and as long as my broken brain keeps sending me ideas for them, I intend to keep writing them down. Big thanks to @magpie-to-the-morning and @jazzelsaur who are patient as patient can be while I barge into their DM's to screech about these two soft, vulnerable boys. I love you both.

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The bouquet had been delivered to set, the candy cotton pink petals hard to miss amidst the cranes and cameras and all the rest of the hardware it took to put a film in the can. Everyone had fawned over the flowers from the moment they arrived, their delicate shape a marvel beneath the heat of the Moroccan sun. 

But when the courier called out Dieter’s name, the room almost erupted, everything from squeals of elation to nosy questions being tossed his way. Dieter couldn’t help himself, cheeks warming and chest puffing, as he accepted the vase, the increased attention not only from the crew but also his fellow actors, stroking his ego in a way he couldn’t help but relish in. 

Maybe some would be embarrassed at the sheer honesty in that one single thought but Dieter found peace in the sentiment. Hell, he was an actor. What else was there to say other than the truth in validation, hoping that enough of the attention could one day fix the broken pieces inside his heart. 

“One of your many admirers sending you flowers now, Bravo?” A well-meaning production assistant asks in passing. 

“Something like that,” he hums, taking care to tuck the card into his pocket for later. 

After that, the flowers find a place on the craft service table, and if an extra take or two is needed because Dieter’s eye line strays just a tad too far left no one makes mention of it.

The day is called just as the last of the light is lost, the sun setting far behind the rows and rows of beautiful blue houses. There’s an offer for drinks and dinner brandied about, a few cast and crew breaking away. Dieter quietly bows out, and again, if anyone notices the once infamous party boy choosing a quiet night in over a raucous night out, not a word is said. 

Once back in his hotel room, Dieter is instantly restless, the flowers moving from room to room, the vase twisted left, then right, then right again. Self-doubt starts to dig at the base of his spine, the very beginning of a panic attack creeping up his back, tight and hot and painful, a wicked whisper telling him he should have just gone out, damn all and any consequences. There is only a bouquet of pink peonies in this hotel room to keep the loneliness at bay tonight, and not for the first time, Dieter feels the icy cold fear that he’ll forget all he has waiting for him back home.  

He does his best to ignore it, breathing slowly around the rubber band across his chest, counting each second with the tick of his fingers. One, two, three, four, in. Five, six, seven, eight, out. Twice more is enough to chase the feeling away, giving Dieter the space he needs to finally breathe fully, his head clearing just enough to ground him back to the moment. The blossoms finally find a home right beside his bed, the low light of the bedroom illuminating the pretty pink petals, and only then does he actually start to settle down for good. He fishes the card from his back pocket, dragging his thumb across the seal.

It’s nothing remarkable; a white envelope, only his first initial scratched across the front. But it’s enough to have his cheeks warming all over again, the tip of his nail finally piercing through the thick paper. The card is equally unassuming, but when he opens it up, the words are anything but. 

Dieter reads it over once, then twice, then one more time for good measure, lips moving along with the lines, one promise after another infused to each and every one. It’s enough to have him scrambling for his phone, dialing with shaky hands and a breathless laugh. It only rings once before it clicks over. 

“Hey, baby.”

“The flowers…” Dieter starts, his mind racing faster than he can manage to speak, any sort of coherency lost at the sound of Marcus Moreno’s soft baritone on the other end of the line. 

“They were too much.”

“No! Fuck no!” Dieter is quick to cut the other man off, refusing to let him think that for even a second.  “No, sweet boy. I love them!”

Marcus would do this from time to time, doubt himself and his place by Dieter’s side. It always brings him back to the moment in that lavish hotel room, Marcus’s warm breath painted across his cheek, lips bruised and fingers grasping, when the heroic had admitted that most couldn’t handle it. To this day Dieter can’t help but wonder if he was maybe talking about more than just superpowers.

He thinks maybe Marcus doesn’t realize. That he doesn’t see what it means to possess a heart so big. Bigger than anyone deserved, the weight of it nearly dragging him down, away from the light and into the shadows. The very ones he tries so hard to protect the world from. And Dieter knew that when the man fell, he fell fast. Fully. All of him hanging out on a precarious line, waiting for the other inevitable shoe to drop. 

Dieter wishes he could figure out a way to convince him that both of his feet were firmly planted on the ground. 

There’s a beat of silence and he swears he can hear the words neither of them dare to say. Not yet. Not with things so new. But he can feel them. Always feel them. With each kiss Marcus pressed into his skin, every drag of his fingertips, each scrape of his teeth, there was the promise of an affection too great to imagine. It was there, on the tip of the other man’s tongue, quietly unspoken but still so very very present.

“I love them,” the actor says again, determined to make his point stick this time. 

Marcus hums, and Dieter can almost picture him then and there as if he was sitting beside him on the 1000 thread count duvet in Morocco instead of miles and miles away, in an empty apartment, his only plans for the night a crappy tv dinner. He could chide the heroic, remind him to have fun, take more chances, but that’s a sticky subject all its own. 

It had been a running theme of the last few months of their lives, the two of them stealing what little time together they could. Marcus would plan, meticulously, weekends away explained under the guise of training or intel or some other bullshit excuse. Dieter would make a stink to his manager on those days, stomping his feet and demanding a mental health break. Maybe it was the fact that he returned from those weekends brighter and lighter than ever before, but Marissa never fought him too hard. 

They would lose track of the hours as easily as they lost themselves in the other, tangled sheets and broken sleep bookending their pleasure. The give and take between them deepened with each weekend that rolled around. Dieter delighted in Marcus’s company, preening beneath the wonder of having him all to himself. The way his whole heart became the center of the universe, genuine affection and care feeling better than any late night or black out bender. 

Marcus would watch Dieter paint, only a sheet around his waist as his eyes traced the curves and colors inspired by his own tender touch. And Dieter would marvel at the bend of the other man’s form, following his steps to the gym, his own eyes wide as twin blades cut through open air. They stayed in. Always in. The pair of them forgoing even ordering in, digging through Dieter’s freezer in search of mini pizza bagels and knock-off taquitos rather than risk breaking the peace of their privacy. 

And if he showed up to the set of the big budget action movie with his belly still soft, it hardly mattered. His heart was full, his mind at peace, and even as the director rolled his eyes, all Dieter could see was Marcus dropping to his knees, nuzzling into the patch of coarse hair smattered across the swell of his stomach, before swallowing him down to the base. 

Those days gave them both something to cling to when life and work and reality would push them back to opposite sides of the country. Memories they could remember in the between, when it was only phone calls and FaceTimes the touch of their own hand to chase away the anxieties hiding around the corner.  

Dieter learned in great detail how to coax those little whines from the heroic, memorizing the ragged sound of his cries as he whispered all manner of filth into the crease of his skin. Marcus matched the energy in kind, splitting up inside the actor, lips on his throat and hands in his hair. Dieter called him sweet boy and Marcus declared him his whole sky, a promise of more following every goodbye. 

And Marcus always keeps his promises. 

When it came time to leave for Morocco, six months of loneliness looming in the distance and one awkward farewell party behind them, Dieter did his best to remind Marcus to not linger in his solitude. It would be too easy for him to fall back on old habits; long nights on rooftops chased by haggard days in the gym, but Dieter hoped the hero would make time to tend to his heart in ways he had forgone for so long. 

Marcus took care to meet Dieter where he stood, urging him to hold onto every word he ever said, his whole heart following Dieter, even when he physically could not. The actor clung to the sentiment, doing his best to remember every weekend spent wrapped around the other man. He held onto every ripple of pleasure and each drip of afterglow. 

Dieter shakes his head, refocusing on the present, even as he wishes for all the little things he so desperately wanted here and not there. Plush lips and dimpled cheeks, brown eyes wide as he nods and quietly accepts the truth in Dieter’s words. 

“I’m glad.”

The silence is back, but more of a comfort now, the blend of their breath lulling the last of the sun and sand and stress away from Dieter’s heart. His eyes are heavy in the best way, his fingers loose where they curl around the phone, still matched to the curve of his cheek. 

“You should shower, Dee. Then sleep,” Marcus prompts, his voice somehow even softer. 

“Mmm, jerk off with me first,” he half whines, free hand already pulling at the threadbare sweats he had worn from set. 

There’s a chuckle, low and sweet and steady, one that Dieter has learned means a promise is about to be made. 

“I’m at the office now, mi cielo, but call me when you wake up and we will.”

It’s enough for now, Marcus’s gentle voice in his ear and the catch of pink petals in the low light, giving Dieter the push he needs to let sleep find him. In a few hours' time he’ll wake up, his stomach empty and his neck sore, but the fresh scent of peonies and an aching promise have something else curling deep inside his belly. And when he dials, the answer comes on the first ring. 

After all, Marcus always keeps his promise. 

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Pretend Alleyways Masterlist II Main Masterlist

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[acourtofthought]

Just adding a disclaimer here since I recently got a harassing anon claiming I think I'm an expert on Az:

***I am not an expert on Azriel. This is simply my interpretation of the text and his character of which there can be many. Until SJM confirms or disproves things in her next book, my interpretation will only be as valid or as wrong as anyone else's. These are only my thoughts and opinions. If you are bothered with Anti E/riel posts than I encourage you to look away and seek out blogs that are more in line with your own thoughts***

WHY DOES AZ WANT ELAIN TO BE HIS MATE?

Because "the Cauldron chose three sisters."

Because "my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another "

Because "Lucien will never be good enough for her" (this is not fact but merely a comment born from Azriel's own insecurities. Lucien is a favorite of the authors, a character who has been around since book 1, and a character she's setting up to be a High Lord so he's obviously "good enough").

Because "she has no interest in him anyway"

Because she gave him a gift last Solstice but didn't get her mate one.

Because of the envy in his chest

Because Elain knows why he doesn't come to family dinners or why he didn't go near the fire.

In my opinion, those don't seem like valid enough reasons to want a mating bond with someone because those things don't speak of Elain as an individual outside of Az.

SJM is a romance author and if she wants readers to believe a male is in love with a female, she's not going have us fill in the blanks as to why he loves her.

Some claim Az wants to be Elain's mate because he truly loves her but nothing Az has said or thought has managed to convince me that's the case. He might love the idea of having a mate and being worthy of a bond, he might love the idea of being someone's protector, he might love the idea of three brothers and three sisters because of the convenience but what does any of that have to do with the person Elain is?

Feyre and Nesta could have had another attractive third sister named (XYZ) and those particular statements would still hold true.

If Elain had interest in Lucien then would Az feel the same? Or is it only because Elain doesn't seem interested that he latched on to the idea of the third sister being available so he could be part of the three bothers / three sisters club?

If she hadn't gotten him a gift last year, would he have become fixated on her?

He would have still felt envious of Rhys and Cassian even if Feyre and Nesta had no third sister.

Elain knowing why he hasn't been to family dinners is once again making it all about Az and he doesn't give her credit for how she knows. He could have said, "Elain was always so observant / perceptive and it was something that impressed him" (something Cassian actually acknowledges about Elain) but we don't get that even though he's got no issues thinking on Gwyns charming irreverence later in the series. That she's come a long way since Sangravah. That she gives a beautiful, precise blow with her sword. Why are his thoughts of Gwyn as an individual more poetic than those he has of Elain as an individual (outside of her physical appearance)? The thought of Gwyn's happiness sparks something in his chest but does he ever think of Elain's happiness?

What about Elain outside of Az does Az like? You should like someone for who they are and not only what you think they do for you.

Even as early as book 1, we get the sense that Rhys is impressed with Feyre outside of what Feyre has done for him:

A deep, elegant voice replied this time. “She’s building a trap.” Rhysand. “But the Middengard—” “Relies on its scent to see,” Rhysand answered, and I gave a special glower for him as I glanced at the rim of the trench and found him smiling at me. “And Feyre just became invisible.” His violet eyes twinkled. I made an obscene gesture before I broke into a run, heading straight for the worm.

“Yes, I’d say almost my entire court bet on you dying within the first minute; some said you’d last five, and”—she turned over the paper—“and just one person said you would win.”

Early on in book 2:

“You are no one’s subject.”

“You can be a pawn, be someone’s reward, and spend the rest of your immortal life bowing and scraping and pretending you’re less than him, than Ianthe, than any of us. If you want to pick that road, then fine. A shame, but it’s your choice.” The shadow of wings rippled again. “But I know you—more than you realize, I think—and I don’t believe for one damn minute that you’re remotely fine with being a pretty trophy for someone who sat on his ass for nearly fifty years, then sat on his ass while you were shredded apart—” “Stop it—” “Or,” he plowed ahead, “you’ve got another choice. You can master whatever powers we gave to you, and make it count. You can play a role in this war.

Even before Nessian's book, Cassian has a lot to say about Nesta as a person:

He’d left their frst encounter here not entirely sure where he’d stood, or who’d had the upper hand.

And, Mother damn him, in the past few weeks, he’d found himself turning over every word and look he’d exchanged with her, over and over.

“You’re ten minutes late,” she only said, moving toward the far end of theroom, wherea frecrackled against early springs chill. Where the sound of the flames might cover their voices. Clever girl.

His temper rose with dizzying speed at the words, the absurd perfection of her. A blade given form—that’s what she was.

The fire drew out the golden sheen in Nesta’s hair as she angled her head. A predator sizing up a worthy opponent.

And in those blue-gray eyes, he could see the thoughts swirling in her as if they were smoke under glass. The cunning mind at work behind that face

He’d seen that fire before—and the steel. He half wondered what might happen if the two of them ever met. What might come of it.

With Rhys and Cassian I can feel the respect they have for Feyre and Nesta and none of that has anything to do with what the sisters had done for them. In fact both Feyre and Nesta fought like hell against Rhys and Cassian at that time in the story, actively expressing their disinterest towards them, yet the males were still impressed by who the females were.

Shouldn't Az be thinking about how impressed he was that Elain stood up to Nesta? Shouldn't he admire her for wanting to help do something dangerous, encouraging her to follow through because he believes she can? Shouldn't he (and not Cassian) be commenting on how Elain saw everything Nesta was?

Instead it's "Elain got "ME" a gift" and Elain knows why "I" don't come to dinners" and "I" saved Elain after all (even though Elain saved Briar, Nesta and Cassian and stabbed the King which are all big deals yet he doesn't ever mention any of that). It's like he doesn't view Elain as anything outside of what she's done for him or that he got to save a damsel in distress. And sure, he lent her TT but that's so he could feel like he was doing something worthy after Cassian first tried to. Yes, he helped her with the potatoes but that's because she reminded him of his mother being a servant.

Why do we have both Rhys and Cassian remark on Feyre and Nesta's cleverness yet we've never heard anything remotely close to that from Az? Why did Lucien give Elain credit for killing the king yet Azriel never once thinks on it or mentions it to Cassian as proof that she is capable of doing the things that need to be done? What about Elain impresses Az? If we have no examples in his own words or thoughts of why he likes her outside of "she got him a gift", "she doesn't want her mate" and, "she's a beautiful female whose scent of arousal makes his eyes roll back in his head" then I'm standing firmly in my belief that he doesn't actually want Elain for Elain.

[9w1ft]

Hey 9wing!! Hello and I hope you're doing well <3

I've seen a couple of your posts mentioning this sort of sentiment and now I'm genuinely asking with curiosity; how would one think that Kaylor is a romantic love story?

No doubt, the songs are amazing masterpieces, the long-term perseverance is admirable and there are certainly many aspects of Kaylor that are poetic and remind me of the magic of 'soulmates,' whether that is practically real or not

However, even as a third party observer who has no stakes in this, I find it bleak and tiring sometimes

Constant backlash and scrutiny from the media, the people and most often your own fans; having to communicate in cryptic language; having to engage in unpleasant PR stunts; having to hide a central part of yourself just to survive in this world; not having the liberty to be yourself and love whomever you love loudly and proudly; being constantly misunderstood by a large fraction of the world; being loved but not seen; living in uncertainty about your own rights and freedom when the political climate's so unstable

I understand that life is not without problems and sometimes you have to do what you have to do with whatever choices are at your disposal. And these two will always have my support, and I make sure to respect my own mental health and step away from this site of the internet when things get too much

But how would one see the beauty in this? The light in the darkness? I would love to know and hear your and other's perspectives and what keeps you optimistic despite it all. Thank you and good day

i would love to hear from others!

i think that everyone will have their own definitions of beauty or romance, so i understand where you are coming from, and your impressions are valid for you!

for me, there are aspects of their story that i just cannot find in other places in the world, and it’s always been something that brings me opportunities reflect on my own life and life philosophy.

i think that there is something to be said for the amount of unconditional love that they show one another that appears when picking haven for one another at the risk of their reputations. i recognize that it probably doesn’t look that way for many people but from my perspective, it’s how i see it. there is something singularly authentic about it to me. as a enneagram type 9 (where my username comes from), i gravitate to the concept of holy love like a moth to a flame, and the dynamic of seeing taylor push her lovers away all her life and then meeting karlie and being inspired by karlie but still fighting doubt and ultimately trying to push her away only for karlie to vehemently refuse to leave is just.. something that really speaks to me. it sort of embodies the human struggle not just to give love but to accept love. i’m not sure if i’m explaining it well but there is so much depth to the love that she writes about in these albums, separate from the heavy external factors that have shaped their story.

but for me, those external factors only work to heighten my interest and appreciation for their journey. in my career i’ve done a lot of executive coaching work and study in leadership theory and i find the study of defining moments (sometimes called crucible moments) incredibly interesting and for taylor and karlie, at the top of their game, the stakes could not be higher and their navigation of everything is very interesting to me.

and i think that the struggle is a part of the beauty because i don’t always find easy things beautiful, and by that i don’t mean that pain is beauty in some voyeuristic way but that success after pain feels more spectacular than success without struggle.

if you are a fan of literature or philosophy, i would recommend the seminal work of junichiro tanizaki called “in praise of shadows” — there’s a fairly well known concept in japan called wabi-sabi which is the idea that true beauty is found in the transient and the fleeting. that a falling cherry blossom is more beautiful than a tree in full bloom, or that cracks in pottery ought be to celebrated (there a tradition in japan of fixing cracks in ceramics with gold called kintsugi). tanizaki’s writing is very formative to this concept and it’s something that has giving me a heightened appreciation for things with complication and age.

[gavroche-le-moineau]

Voilà, le soir qui tombe / Behold, night falls

Trying a proof of concept here: my plan is to start posting my translations + annotations of the Les Misérables Original French Concept Album. For each set of lyrics, I plan to make a text post as well as providing a link to a PDF where the French and English lyrics are side by side with footnotes at the bottom.

I'm starting with a short song that has minimal notes/annotations, sung by Éponine about the lead up to the attack on the Rue Plumet. The PDF can be found here: Voilà le soir qui tombe translation

Voilà, le soir qui tombe ; hélà! trêve de rêve Ils vont venir en nombre, l’attaque est pour cette nuit

Behold, night falls; alas! that’s enough dreaming They’re going to come in numbers, the attack is for this night

C’est l’aut’jour comme ça par hasard que j’ai retrouvé sa¹ trace En faisant le guet devant pour ce coquin² de Montparnasse Qu’avait repéré c’te belle villa déserte, abandonnée Et qui voulait qu’j’vérifie, qu’on pouvait la vider en paix ;

It was the other day, just like that, by chance, I found their¹ trail again While keeping watch out front for this scoundrel² Montparnasse Who had spotted this beautiful house- deserted, abandoned And who wanted me to verify that it could be emptied in peace;

NOTES 1. “sa trace” – I just wanted to note that I’m using “their” in the singular since the French “sa” is the third person possessive (his/hers/its/their). While I assume Éponine is referring to Cosette’s trail, I wanted to keep it ambiguous, as it is in the original.

2. “coquin” – Other translations include: “scoundrel, rascal, rogue, little devil” etc.

L’endroit n’était pas vide, j’ai vu un vieux monsieur Le père, le vieux mécène, avec une jeune fille J’ai su tout d’suite que c’était elle J’ai dit, danger, c’est louche à c’te villa, pas touche!³

The place wasn’t empty, I saw an old gentleman The father, the old benefactor, with a young girl I knew at once that it was her I said, “danger, it’s shady at this house, hands off!”³

NOTES 3. I added quotation marks here in the translation just to make things a little clearer. Éponine is explaining what she said to the Patron-Minette.

J’ai voulu protéger l’amour Sans rien trahir pourtant dans mon discours Mais je sens qu’ils viendront quand même Et mon père, s’il s’évade, de même

I wanted to protect love Without betraying anything in my speech But I feel they’ll still come And my father, too, if he escapes

Courez vite auprès d’elle Lui dire que vous l’aimez Je reste en sentinelle Chacun sa destinée⁴

Run quickly to her side Tell her you love her I’m staying to keep watch To each their destiny⁴

NOTES 4. This was the hardest line to translate and if any native speakers can weigh in I would love it. French has two words for destiny or fate, “destinée” (the one in the song), and “destin”. From my understanding, “destin” refers to the idea of a divine fate, something that you cannot change. “Destinée” can also refer to that divine fate, but it seems to refer more to someone’s own destiny in life which they can make themselves. Poetically, and in literature, it can also mean “life, existence.” In the lyrics, I can’t be sure whether the writers used it intentionally as opposed to “destin,” or whether it just fit the rhyme better.

[skeeverboyreviews]

Death Cab for Cutie - Transatlantacism

An analysis.

Overview

Transatlanticism is a third wave emo/indie rock concept album about a long-distance relationship. It's Death Cab for Cutie's fourth studio album, and it's by far my favorite that they've released.

The lyrics explore speaker's loneliness within his long-distance relationship, and it generally has a very somber tone supported by the instrumentation. The songs range from sorrowful ballads to higher energy, more upbeat tunes.

Personally, I love Ben Gibbard's voice. It's very smooth and melodic, and I find it nearly hypnotic. I find the vocal melodies very captivating, especially in tracks where he shows off his range- Death of an Interior Decorator, Lightness.

The lyrics are captivating, perfectly descriptive. They're poetic, devastating, and so painfully real. I love the instrumentation, too, from the beautiful yet simple piano part in Passenger Seat to the heavier chorus of Tiny Vessels.

This is one of my top five favorite albums of all time. I find it so captivating, so beautifully written. Everything, down to the album art, is so incredible.

The New Year

If you ask me, this is the perfect opening track. Starting off with a more powerful instrumental introduction, leading to the minimalistic but moving lyrics, this is overall a memorable track. It's one of the strongest songs on the album.

It works very well in introducing the themes of the album. It starts off with the lyric "So this is the New Year / And I don't feel any different," setting up the depressive, empty tone of the song. He isn't present at the celebration, lyrics saying things like "Thirty dialogues bleed into one" suggesting his disinterest in the celebration.

Later on in the song, he introduces the overall idea of the album with the lyrics "I wish the world were flat like the old days / And I could travel just by folding a map," then, later, repeating the line "There'd be no distance that could hold us back." This reveals what the speaker is truly upset about- the absence of his significant other.

Lightness

This song has a heavy theme of head versus heart. The second verse sets up a metaphor; "Your heart is a river / That flows from your chest / Through every organ / Your brain is the dam / And I am the fish / Who can't reach the core." While I find this metaphor a little bit silly, it sets up that head versus heart theme that's later expanded upon in the lyric "Instincts are misleading / You shouldn't think what you're feeling."

Now, I'm no expert on lyric analysis, and I will admit that I went to a couple sources in order to decode some of these lyrics. I found a few interesting interpretations about the chorus, "Ivory lines lead." One that I found intriguing is that the "ivory lines" are the white lines in the road (credit to u/Double_U120 on Reddit). Other interpretations in the same thread suggested the ivory lines are legs (u/cathalaska) or bra straps (u/ToysNoiz) but personally I love the road interpretation. I love that links to the other car-related songs in the album like Title and Registration or Passenger Seat.

I also love how the chorus feels unfinished. He sings, "Ivory lines lead," but trails off without finishing. What does it mean? Don't ask me.

Another fact I found out through Genius is that Ben Gibbard credited the book The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera as an influence. This book is on my reading list, but I haven't gotten to it yet. I do, though, have a friend who is currently reading it (thanks Elliot!) who told me that the overarching theme is that of lightness, being complete freedom without morals, and heaviness, being morality and emotions. This heavily ties into the idea of brain and soul earlier described. Perhaps I'll be able to analyze this song further after reading the book.

Title and Registration

This track really explores the disintegration of the relationship after the speaker's girlfriend moved away. It's fairly straightforward; the speaker laments over the good times his relationship had, wishing it was what it used to be.

I believe this is the song where the relationship ends, with the lyrics "I stumbled upon pictures I tried to forget / And that's how this idea was drilled into my head / 'Cause it's too important to stay the way it's been." I think the speaker then breaks up with his partner, the breakup being the idea drilled into his head.

This song is truly devastating. The chorus, "But there's no blame for how our love did slowly fade / And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all" is heart-achingly realistic. The speaker's regret and longing are clear in his tone.

Expo '86

The speaker wants so badly to rekindle the relationship he ended. It explores the cycle they experience, of toxicity- maybe even an off-and-on sort of relationship dynamic.

It starts off with the lyrics "Sometimes I think this cycle never ends/ We slide from top to bottom, then we turn and climb again," demonstrating that cycle. The good parts of their relationship, followed by the lows, and neither can stop.

One of my favorite lyrics in this album is in the chorus: "I am waiting for something to go wrong / I am waiting for familiar reason." This is so captivating to me; the speaker believes the relationship's end is inevitable, and he almost wants his partner to break up with him because it's what he's expecting. This is later expanded upon when he says "I am waiting for that sense of relief." He can't relax in the relationship because he's constantly waiting for the end, and when it happens, he's relieved.

Another lyric I love is "Sometimes it seems that I don't have the skills to recollect / The twists and turns of plot that turned us from lovers to friends." This is how the cycle repeats itself; the singer forgets the reasons they broke up in the first place, blinded by his love and desire for the subject.

Sound of Settling

This track is much more energetic than the previous tracks, almost sounding upbeat you're not reading the lyrics. Though, this is a song about settling for second best.

The song starts and ends with the line "I've got a hunger twisting my stomach into knots." This is the singer's desire for more. I love that it both starts and finishes the song, showing that this feeling was never resolved.

The line in the second verse, "And I'll sit and wonder of every love that could've been / If I'd only thought of something charming to say" shows the hunger for something more, but it's too late to do anything. Therefore, the speaker has to settle.

Really, I have nothing to add to this song. He's settling.

Tiny Vessels

The singer's brief and meaningless rebound. It starts off bluntly, "This is the moment that you knew / That you told her that you loved her but you don't." It goes on to describe the speaker's physical relationship with this girl, and his realization that he never loved her, that the relationship was never more than a physical desire.

The lyric "All I see are dark gray clouds / In the distance moving closer with every hour" remind me of the line in Expo '86, "I am waiting for something to go wrong." The speaker knows the relationship is doomed, and he's only putting off the inevitable end. He's plagued with the anxiety over the end of their relationship.

In the end, they go their separate ways, and each pretend that the relationship meant more. For the girl, she pretends that she meant more to him, and for the speaker, he pretends he never got with the girl in the first place. He describes the relationship as "vile and cheap," acknowledging his own cruelty in leading on the subject.

Interestingly, in the beginning of the song, the singer uses second-person language: "she was beautiful, but she didn't mean a thing to you." Later on, he switches to first-person language, addressed to the woman: "You are beautiful, but you don't mean a thing to me." This switch indicates the speaker taking responsibility for his actions within the relationship and acknowledging his own fault.

This song also transitions so beautifully into the next track.

Transatlancticism

Holy shit, this song is a work of art. The lyrics are minimal; the real star of the show is the delivery and the instrumentals. The track starts off with piano and a sort of percussive part in the background, then introduces vocals.

For a song with such few lyrics, it fits so much into those two verses. It's the namesake for the album, obviously, describing the birth of the Atlantic Ocean. My personal favorite line is "I thought it less like a lake and more like a moat." The ocean only serves to separate the speaker from his partner across the sea.

The metaphor of the Atlantic Ocean being created in a single day is used to describe how the speaker feels about his lover moving away. When he says "The Atlantic was born today," he obviously doesn't mean literally; it only feels that way because his lover moved across the ocean, and now that is a massive obstacle in his way of seeing her.

After the verses, more instruments are introduced accompanying the piano as the feelings get more intense. The final half of the song is just two repeated sentences. First, "I need you so much closer," repeated over and over again. While he repeats this line, the instrumentals get louder and more intense, crescendoing on and on even after he stops. This just shows the increasing intensity of his feelings and the cascade of emotions as he's thinking. At the peak, he changes to saying "So come on."

Passenger Seat

Without the context of the rest of the album, this song is a beautiful ballad of love, for all of time. In context, it's only a memory. There's no percussion, no guitar or bass, only piano and vocals, and the melody is filled with such longing and desire. Just the first few measures, the piano part, nearly bring me to tears.

It's a pleasant memory of the speaker and his lover, being driven home. He focuses on all the good parts of the memory; the sweet smell of evergreen, his lover's smile. In the end, he promises: "If you feel embarrassed / I'll be your pride / When you need directions / I'll be your guide / For all time." This is a beautiful promise of eternal companionship. Without the rest of the album, it's a simple love song about true love forever.

I find it so devastating. When the speaker promises "For all time," it's within the context of their inevitable breakup, the inevitable fade of their love. When listening to the song, the tone is very longing, very depressing, melancholic, and nostalgic. It crushes me every time, listening to the full album, knowing what is to come for their relationship.

Death of an Interior Designer

This is a retelling of the Woody Allen movie Interiors. I haven't seen the movie, but I read the Wikipedia plot summary, and, yeah, it's pretty much that.

As for how this fits into the context of the album, I think it has something to do with the relationship between Arthur, Eve, and Pearl. Arthur and Eve are married, when Arthur suddenly and out of the blue separates with Eve. He meets a woman, Pearl, across the ocean in Greece following Eve's suicide attempt and marries her back at home, which leads eventually to Eve's death in the end of the movie.

The speaker is comparing either himself or his lover to Eve; I'm inclined to say he thinks himself Eve, as his lover was the one to move across the ocean, although he does start the song with the line "You were the mother to three girls so sweet" and refers to Eve continuously as "you." He also, though, vaguely refers to Arthur as "he" rather than "I" so it's unclear who's who.

We Looked Like Giants

I see this song as very similar to Passenger Seat, reflecting on old, cherished memories, though it's much less melancholic and much more energetic. Instead of looking back at the young relationship with regret and longing, he's simply remembering the relationship for what it was.

Most of the song is him describing sex in the back of his car. He makes it clear that this was young love, using the phrase "learn[ing] how our bodies worked" which suggests this is a somewhat immature and younger relationship.

I don't have much to say about this song. It was covered by Car Seat Headrest, though, which was pretty cool, I guess.

A Lack of Color

The first verse of this song is romantic. He refers to the subject as "lover," promising them that there's color everywhere. It's almost sweet, optimistic about their relationship.

The rest of the song changes tone. My favorite line in the song, "This is fact not fiction for the first time in years." This contrasts his optimism in the first verse. His loneliness is very real.

Thanks to Genius annotators for pointing out that 703, mentioned when he says "I'm reaching for the phone to call at 7:03," is the D.C. area code. Ben Gibbard stated that he had a failed long-distance relationship with a woman who moved to D.C., so it ties into that theme.

He repeats the regretful, lamenting line: "I should've given you a reason to stay." He regrets the end of the relationship. Then, the song ends, on the line, "This is fact not fiction for the first time in years."

I think that this alludes to the off-and-on dynamic explored in Expo '86, though this time, their breakup is final. Instead of a temporary break, this one is fact, and they aren't getting back together.

It's a tragic end to their relationship and the album. But there aren't happy endings, not for Ben Gibbard.

I wanted to add here at the end something about the album cover. I find the red thread interesting, the crow wrapped in some sort of red string. It reminds me of the red string of fate, which I'm sure everyone is familiar with.