#yet this story describes a time more similar to our own

[eypril-eypril]

the king

when i was doing some research for a historical wilmon fanfic at the royal library’s archive last year i found a short story called the king by martin andersen-nexö from 1914. it was a story of a king who no longer held any power, but was worshipped by his people who didn’t dare to criticize him.  

“let him sit!”, the wise men of the country said. “he’s the unsound fantasies of the people, collected in one hand - it’s the cheapest option. and he is our only memory of the slavery of the past. the more he stands out, the more he brings attention to how far we’ve come.” 

the king stayed on his throne, but he wasn’t allowed to speak. the people traveled from east and west to see him, and he had to sit nicely on the throne while the people looked at him. meanwhile, the people invented a road of light that would lead talented people to success, no matter their social class. but the king’s throne cast a shadow over the road of light, which paralyzed the entire country. 

after some time, the king asked if no one was upset with him. the people didn’t dare to be mad at him, because he sat so nicely on his throne. finally, the king had had enough and his soul left his body, but his body remained sitting. once his soul was gone, nothing stopped him from sitting nicely. he sat there, deaf and blind, until humanity accidentally pushed his throne so that it fell over.  

i love this story because in my opinion, it pinpoints some of the reasons as to why i think monarchs - both the real and fictional ones - shouldn’t exist. it’s fascinating how a story published in 1914 so perfectly describes the themes of a tv show from 2021. because this could have been a fabel about wilhelm, who is forced to sit nicely on his throne as tourist attraction and a symbol of the past, which in turn harms not only the people but also wilhelm himself. and if he continues to sit nicely, his soul will eventually leave his body, because it won’t be able to stand it any longer. 

[conelluwrites]

the red means i love you

Reader/Doppelgänger Francis (main focus on the doppelgänger aspect) (reader goes by she/her and is described with vaginal terms)

posted on my AO3

word count: 2.6k

title from The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley

Contains: monster fucking (doppelgänger fucking), headcanon design for non-disguised doppels, barbed dick, breeding, and blood drinking

You let the wrong one in, but maybe it's not as bad as it seems when you invite him back to your apartment.

“Mmm…”  The voice sounds uncanny, too similar to Francis with the slightest hint of a purr that the tired milkman would never express, “I’m rather thankful that you let me in earlier, you know?”  His uniform is clean and tidy, well put together in a way that Francis would never be able to achieve due to his early morning risings.  His hair is just barely out of place.  Things that no one would notice-- things that make her wish that she had called Francis’ apartment to see if he was home.

“W-Wha-!”  The doorman stumbles back in fear, causing her to bump her back into the chest of the doppelgänger who all too readily wraps his arms around her waist.  One of his hands trails down her rigid arm and grabs the hand of hers that is trembling its way towards the phone.  Even if he didn’t intervene, the D.D.D. would not arrive in time to prevent any damages, he was in the safety room.  His fingertips are inhuman, too sharp but not yet undisguised, as they intertwine with her own to prevent her from dialing the number she memorized so easily.

“Shhh, shhh…  There’s no reason for you to be afraid.”  He coos, brushing his nose against the exposed flesh of her neck.  “No need to scream, no need to squirm, no need to put up a fight…”  His voice is velvety but now lacks the tiredness the real Francis carries.  It’s not surprising that he’s giving up his disguise piece by piece, she assumes that it must take some level of effort to be so near-perfectly disguised and she knows at this point she’s utterly fucked.  “I could take you away from this annoying position forever if you want.  No pesky D.D.D. agents, no more anxiety from our kind, no more living in fear.  Sounds pretty nice, hm?”  His free hand goes to hold her chin, his sharp thumb slightly digging into her jawline.

“But I gotta protect my neighbors.  My job-- sitting here and looking at everyone and their documents, it might suck at times but it keeps everyone safe.”  She says, her voice trembling.  Her throat is bone dry from fear, her chest aches from the uneven breathing leaving her slightly open lips.

“Oh, my dear, that’s such a noble sentiment.”  The doppelgänger sighs dramatically before shaking his head.  He spins her around in his grasp, the hand that was holding hers goes to her waist.  His fingers trace along her jawline, making sure to keep a gentle, but firm, grip on her so she cannot try to escape.  There’s a bright grin on his face, his teeth too white to be human.  “But how many times have they let you down?  Surely they have failed you before.  People are fickle creatures; they don’t appreciate what they have until it’s gone.  I promise to protect you, sweetheart, just let me stay with you tonight, hm?”

Her mind races, so many thoughts of her own death and the death of her neighbors.  “How do I know you won’t hurt me?”  The answer is obvious-- if the doppel were going to hurt her, he already would have.  He’s stronger than her, stronger than any human and she’s still in his grasp.  If he wanted to maim her, he would have already.  “You doppelgängers just want to kill and eat us.”

“Ah, you misunderstand me, darling!  I could never harm a hair on your lovely head.”  The doppelgänger earnestly insists.  His thumb brushes gently across her cheek, trying to so lovingly convince her.  “All I want is to hear more stories about your day and listen to those sweet little fears of yours…  And yes, perhaps indulge myself in some delicious blood as well.”  He’s whispering intimately, as if they’re a pair of lovers.  The grip on her waist tightens slightly but remains mostly gentle, it’s almost comforting despite the sharp nails against her shirt.  “C’mon… please trust me.”

“But I-”  her voice dies out the longer she allows herself to fall into the illusion of mutual trust.

“It’s okay, my love,” he murmurs understandingly, “don’t overthink things, hm?”  He kisses her temple tenderly, a perfect imitation of love between humans.  His eyes flicker towards the phone, allowing even himself to dream of a different world where he could whisk her away and keep her all to himself.  “Let’s just go for now, let’s go somewhere private where no one can bother us.”

She relents easily, tearing her gaze from his face and allowing it to travel down the white uniform before making its way back up to his face.  “My apartment is on the first floor.  We… We can go there together.  We don’t have to worry about others seeing us, everyone else is in for the night.”

Francis’ grin grows even more, his canines growing sharper than any humans can be naturally, “That sounds perfect.”  He sounds appreciative, leading him gently to the door to exit the safety room.  The walk to the apartment is short.  As the apartment door closes, the intensity changes slightly; he is watching her carefully while also taking the new space.  “Nice place.  So cozy…”

“Thank you….” She murmurs. “I figured it’s safer for you to be here than anywhere else in the complex.”

Francis’ doppelgänger hums thoughtfully before nodding in agreement.  After the brief exchange, he takes the opportunity to explore the small apartment, touching things lightly as if trying to understand their purpose and history though touch alone.  Every movement exudes confidence in his decision-making process, evaluating the potential of each object.  “You’re so brave, you know.  C’mere.”

She walks over to him hesitantly and stands there.  The doppelgänger is taller than her.  Despite it all, since he’s imitating one of her neighbors that she’s rather fond of, she feels herself relaxing.  He wraps an arm around her waist casually, pulling her close while leaning down until their hands nearly touch.  He inhales deeply, enjoying the warmth that a human being brings.  He drawings circles on his back with his free hand.  He continues to lean down slowly -- closer and closer to her neck.  Her breath hitches as his nose finally meets her neck.  Her hands meet his waist and tighten slightly, crinkling his shirt.  Adrenaline is racing through her body, making her tremble slightly but she refuses to pull away.  The way the doppelgänger rubes and nuzzles his nose into the crook of her neck is the sweetest thing she’s experienced recently.

The doppelgänger lets out a satisfied rumble, savoring the sensation of her trembling beneath his touch.  If anyone saw them now, they’d assume it was two lovers locked in passion.  His lips brush against the skin he finds lightly before he stops abruptly.  “Promise me something -- promise that you won’t run away.”

“...”  She considers his words carefully.  Every primal instinct in her is begging her to run, to get away as fast as she can.  But she hasn't and, to be honest to herself, she doesn’t want to.  She’s rather content staying like this, being in his arms with his face buried in her neck.  She know he could bite her, sink sharp teeth in her neck and finish her life in less than a second, but she finds herself trusting that he won’t.  “ I promise.”

“Good girl.”  He praises softly, finally giving into temptation and pressing his teeth gently against her neck.  Not hard enough to yet draw blood, just merely teasing her.  His arm tightens around her as the gravity of her promise fully settles between the pair.  The danger she’s in never fully dissipates but mixes well with the affection he’s showing her.  “You deserve a reward for trusting me.”

“Oh?  Like what?” She asks, her grip on him loosening as her body adapts to the unfamiliar situation.

Francis’ doppelgänger chuckles, the vibrations tickling her neck.  “Don’t fret, just something that will make us both happy.”  With a groan, he allows his disguise to slip further and further, his teeth sharpening.  They puncture her skin ever so slightly, blood trickles immediately out of the small wounds.  With a satisfied hum, he pulls away and licks his lips, allowing blood to pool.  “Just relax, enjoy this moment.”  She struggles out a broken moan; it’s not necessarily painful but it reminds her of how weak and vulnerable she is in the moment, a feeling that is intoxicating.  “Relax.” he murmurs against her skin soothingly.  There was no aggression or hunger driving him, it was just to provide nutrients for him to continue his time with her.  Slowly yet deliberately, he licks up the collected droplets while sucking lightly on the wound.  He alternates between suckling and licking the wounds, moaning.

“Y’gonna leave a hickey on me.” She sighs out, her body relaxing even further.

“Only for me to look at later.”  He promises, his breath hot on her dampened flesh.  The rhythm slows down until it stops altogether and he pulls away.  Slowly and carefully, he raises his gaze to meet hers.  “Now tell me more about those annoying D.D.D. agents.”

“I don’t know much about them, to be honest.  They don’t hang around after the cleaning procedure and they don’t talk to me aside from congratulating me on living another way.”  She says, swiping a bit of her own blood from his lips with his thumb.

“You should know more than that.”  He growls. “We could use your help some day.”

“We?  You want me to help the doppelgängers?”

“Of course.  Someone like you, someone so skilled at calling us out…  You could be helpful in our cause.”

“I don’t believe that’s such a worthy cause…” She murmurs, resting her head against his chest.  His heartbeat is inhuman, too slow to be human, but it’s relaxing.  “Though…”

“Though?  You would be safe -- you’d be part of our family.  Perhaps one day I could introduce you to some of the ones I’m closest to.”

“Mm.”  She weighs his words carefully.  In a disturbing, unacceptable way, it’s almost sweet.  “I suppose that, as long as I’m protected by you, I’d be honored to meet them.  Does that make us mates?”

“Indeed.”  Silence stretches between them for a moment.  “In our world, we share souls upon consummation.”  He stares into her eyes after the statement, gauging her reaction based on his customs.

“Ah, like marriages for humans then?  Do you want to consummate our bond?”

The doppelgänger stiffens slightly at first before relaxing.  “Yes.  But we must proceed cautiously.”

“Why’s that, my love?  Is your genitalia that different?”  She asks, leaning up to nuzzle her nose against his for a moment before pulling away and going to stroke his cheek softly.  The skin is rubbery and like ice against her fingers.

“Hm…  No, not quite.”  There’s a beat of uncomfortable silence, he allows her mind to wander with possibilities.  “Our release is also quite different, I believe.  Is that okay?”

She’s quiet for a moment, allowing herself time to fully comprehend the possibilities ahead of her. “Yes.  I want to be your mate, so please…  mate with me the way doppelgängers do.”  Francis’ doppelgänger feels a surge of triumph.  The transformation starts gradually as he allows himself to rip through his disguise.  The clothes rip and tatter, falling to the ground around him as she lets him go, allowing him to fully transform.  Glistening black scales peek through skin like moonlight reflecting off ocean waves, his fingers grow out to sharp daggers, his arms and legs elongate as his muscles tense.  His teeth barely fit in his mouth, the sharp points poking slightly over his lips.  His cock is impossibly thick and long, tiny barbs lining the sides as it oozes black pre-cum.  He lifts her effortlessly, his hands on her ass as he carries her to her bedroom and places her gently on the bed.

“Lie back.”  He commands quietly, watching every breath he takes with anticipation and hunger.  She lays back, obediently as he hovers over her patiently.  There’s no shame or hesitation in his gaze as his hand travels up her shirt to lift it over her head.  She tugs off her pants, leaving her in her bra and panties.  His gaze is full of pride.  “You’re mine now, my soulmate.”

“You’re perfect.”  She says softly, cupping his face and kissing his monstrous face lovingly.  Her lips meet his rough lips and pointed teeth.  She winces preemptively as his sharp claws make easy work of her panties, tugging on the fabric until it tears away and reveals her glistening sex.  The thick, black sludge lubricates his cock, making it ease into her cunt slowly and easily despite its grand size.  She feels the tiny barbs grow slightly, just enough to dig into her walls to prevent her from squirming away or resisting.

He hisses appreciatively at the compliment and the feeling of her heat enveloping her slowly.  “You’re tight.”  He grunts out raggedly, thrusting deep.  The sensation matches beast-like intensity, every movement echoing throughout the small bedroom.

“Hah, you’re bigger than I expected.  So fuckin’ thick.” She pants out, her cunt swallowing his cock with little resistance.  “I was scared about the bars, but shit…  your cock is so perfect for me.”  The doppelgänger lets out an animalistic moan at her declaration, his thrusts becoming more aggressive and intense.

“That’s it!  Take everything I got!”  He exclaims hoarsely, nails digging into her hips.  “Answer me, would you want children?”  He gasps urgently.  Despite the heaviness of the question he posed, he keeps pushing relentlessly -- seeking assured release.

“I-I-!  Yes!  I want to swell with your young.”  She says lovingly, moaning.

He roars at his words, bowing low to catch her lips.  The kiss is filled with dominance and ownership.  “Perfect.”  He growls into her mouth, shifting positions easily so she’s on top of him.  “Ride me until we’re done.”

She straddles him easing, wincing as the shift in positioning digs his barbs deep into her cunt.  “Fuck, baby…”  She breathes out, her hands on his chest.  Her hips raise up and down rapidly despite her legs trembling greatly.

“Let me see those pretty eyes looking into mine.”  He orders hoarsely.  He hisses as her cunt adjusts.  The pain she felt was only temporary, but served its purpose well: reminding her whose body she was riding, a dangerous creature holding immense power over her.  His own gaze burned with need and desperation, pleading silently for satisfaction.  

She looks into his eyes obediently, so full of adoration for the monster.  “I-I-...”  Her breath hitches, she can’t finish her sentence.  She’s too embarrassed to admit her love for him.  Instead, she leans down to kiss him.  Her soft lips meeting his rough, uneven ones.

“Say it.  Tell me how much we mean to each other.”  He demands huskily.  His barbs grow slightly more, haling her movements for a single second.  It’s a sign of his nearing climax that’s mirrored by her frantic movements once she adjusts to the growth.

“I love you, fuck, I love you!”  She moans loudly.  Her cunt begins to quiver and massage his cock.  “Cum in me, cum in me, cum in me.”  She whimpers as his barbs dig in even more as her tight walls convulse around him.  Suddenly she can feel a torrent of his dark, murky cum release deep into her cunt.  His cock swells greatly, making her gasp and cum around him.  Her slick dribbles down his cock and coats him.  Her body slowly relaxes as his barbs retract but he remains swollen.  She lays limp against him, breathing heavily.

He roars hoarsely, pumping several times harder with his thickened cock.  He remains still, breathing heavily with his arms tight around her as he lays on his side, holding her tight to his chest.  It’ll take several minutes for his cock to decrease in size, but it’s unlikely that either of the two will be awake.  “Our bond is sealed.”  He rasps against her ear, nuzzling gently against sensitive skin.

[a-student-out-of-time]

Episode 13 was...something

I have to be real with you all: I don't think I liked this episode very much. And no, it has nothing to do with my theory. This is a lot more serious than that. But hey, we're actually moving forward with the plot, and there's a lot to discuss about this episode

Let's cover the big things in detail, shall we?

Levi the Moral Sociopath

So let's get this out of the way: yeah, I was probably wrong here. I thought maybe Arei had talked to Levi about his secret and they reached a mutual understanding, and that turns out not to have been the case. In ways that NOBODY predicted.

See, we were all under the impression that Levi had moral reasons to kill and that's why he holds "no remorse." Turns out that interpretation was meant literally; as in, Levi doesn't experience remorse. Or compassion. Or empathy.

From the way he describes it, it sounds like Levi has Antisocial Personality Disorder or something similar, something that impedes his sense of empathy. See, there's two types of empathy to consider: Cognitive Empathy and Affective Empathy.

Cognitive is where you can interpret the emotions of another, while Affective is the ability to share in emotional experiences with others. Low cognitive empathy is what autistic peeps (such as myself) experience, while low affective empathy is what one would associate with sociopaths. They recognize emotions in others and mimic them accordingly, but they're not able to share or really understand them.

Levi...seems to be lacking in both. He has trouble interpreting emotions and he admits he doesn't really feel anything when it comes to the others; their deaths might as well be the deaths of complete strangers on the other side of the world. He murdered three strangers and his own father, yet he barely remembers them because he's moved on since then.

But Levi is not an evil person. Quite to the contrary, he still believes in doing good and helping people, even if he has no emotional attachment to doing so, because it guarantees him a better and easier life than continuously being a delinquent. He may not really be able to feel compassion for others, but he'll still try and help protect them. That's such a rare presentation of a character with low empathy, especially compared to the more common stereotype that they're all serial killers, and I just think that's really neat.

Way more interesting than him being the volatile, crazed murderer so many believed he was.

2. Hu, Veronika and Nico

So while it was largely skimmed over, here's what I did get right: Hu is the one who's attempted suicide three times and Ronnie has engaged in self-harm in the past. The latter didn't share because she decided it would be more interesting to hold onto it, and also because she considers suicide a boring motivation. Concerning.

And as it turns out, we finally discussed the murder method and they managed to draw an important conclusion: Nico's attempted murder of Ace and our current murder do indeed have a connection. That entire scene wasn't just there to happen, I'm still willing to believe that it was due to David's influence and that was the first attempt.

Because, again, the last people we saw with David before the attempted murder were Nico and Hu. And then Nico tries to kill Ace. And then Arei apparently dies in the same method.

Does that mean Nico is the culprit no? No, probably not. As I've said many times, we have to consider that rule that the Blackened doesn't have to be the murderer, they have to be the "most mastermind-y." Nico also really doesn't seem to have any motivations, at least at this point in time. Levi seemed like he did, but as he explained it, it became clear he had even less reasons to do so than we thought. Nico already has very few reasons themself.

This isn't us zeroing in on the culprit, just moving the story along. And boy did we REALLY need that. Now time for the part where Mod complains.

3. The Wheel-Spinning Is Becoming A Real Problem

Now, one thing I've praised DT for in the past is how well it handles foreshadowing. Small details always come back, no matter how seemingly innocuous. It really gives the impression that everything in the story matters in some respect, which is what good stories should do.

...But we've only just NOW started discussing the murder plot, and it took only a couple minutes to say what many of us have been saying: they used the carousel the hang the victim and snap their neck using the trash and the rafters. We're on Episode 13 of this chapter. It took us 5 episodes and 17 months to get here.

That's what's made this trial and this chapter in general so frustrating to me, because most of our time hasn't been spent on what's relevant to the situation at hand. Most of it has been spent on tangents about secrets, or just pointless nonsense and comedy hijinks. And I get it, this is DR, that's to be expected. But at this point? We should have more information than we do, because we only have a handful of episodes to work with and so many things left unexplained.

I harped on the smaller details because time was devoted to them, attention was drawn to them, and I refused to believe they're going to be totally irrelevant to this chapter. Now I worry they are and I have to wonder why time was spent on them this chapter and not the one(s) where they'll actually matter.

There were so many tangents this chapter and so much time spent on discussing them, I want to believe we're building to something for the climax.

"You mean your theory, right?" You may ask.

And I have to be honest, the theory is barely on my mind at this point. My concern isn't just the many, many tangents that don't seem to add anything, but the direction DT seems to be heading.

4. What even was that scene with Arei?

I have...so many questions about David's flashback.

To immediately dispel the obvious question, no, he's not lying here. If we're allowed to see it, that means it's what actually happened. What Arei said in that scene was what really went down. And I'm not really happy about that.

Now, I'll admit, I had a very negative initial reaction to that scene. Arei confronts David about his secret, and it turns out...she's relieved that it's true. My initial reading of that scene was that she was giving up on being a good person because David being a liar has proven it's pointless. She then goes on to say that Eden's probably done something terrible as well, so there's really no such thing as a good person, and it really felt like a cynical, mean-spirited undermining to everything that came before.

But revisiting it, that's not really what happened. TA and Poi pointed out how, no, what she really seems to be saying by "there's no such thing as a good person" is there's no one who's just naturally morally upstanding. And that it's okay, because it means she's not too far gone.

What came off as her giving up really seems to be more of her deciding not to live by some arbitrary standard about who isn't and isn't a good person, because everyone's probably done something they really regret. Her saying Eden's probably done something terrible isn't dismissing all her good efforts, since she still considers her a friend. It's her accepting that labels like "good person" are meaningless, and that it shouldn't stop you from trying to be better.

And she extends a hand to David, hoping that maybe both of them can be better in the future.

And David...doesn't share a word of this with anyone, especially not Eden. That means that scene only exists for the audience's benefit. We're meant to consider what she said for whatever reason, and while my initial interpretation wasn't wrong, I do have concerns about that.

First of all, while this could still work with my theory, this is probably the biggest factor that changes things. At this point, I'm willing to accept there's an 80% chance I'm wrong. The problem is, theory or not, I worry what exactly showing us that scene is meant to suggest. Why did we as the audience need to see it for dramatic irony purposes?

There are only three interpretations that really come to mind, and I have to say, I'm not fond of two of them:

My theory is correct and this is all part of Arei's 4000 IQ play.

My theory is wrong and that scene only exists to twist the knife for our sake, especially if David is the Blackened.

My theory is wrong, David is the rival, and that scene exists to facilitate his future character development.

And that last one is fridging. Like, it's blatant fridging, where a (frankly more interesting) female character dies in order to spur development in a dude. I'm going to be genuinely pissed if that happens, because it renders her entire character arc this chapter pointless and ends it in such poor taste. It's also a very dumb course of action because why would you ever say all this to someone you know is a MANIPULATOR WHO TAKES ADVANTAGE OF PEOPLE?!

The second one is just poor writing, where it's only there to hurt the audience a little bit more. It's unnecessary and ends things on such a pointlessly bittersweet note. But I'll take that over option 3, because I genuinely don't give a shit about David and I really don't want Arei's death only happen to focus on him more. He doesn't want to change, he believes it's better to sacrifice everyone's lives for some cause he refuses to disclose.

And at this point, I'm pretty sure I'm wrong. Whatever, I expected to be wrong anyway, but that's hardly my biggest concern.

My biggest concern is that DT is resorting to genuinely bad writing decisions and it's going to have a lasting negative effect on the story. I don't understand what other interpretations there could be with that scene, and I really don't like the possibilities we do have. Everything I point to as a basis for my theory could end up being completely pointless to the story, and I have to ask what the point was.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I'm reading all this in bad faith and something else will happen, and we'll spend the remaining episodes discussing everything I've brought up in detail. I've been burned a lot by stories I've enjoyed going in very poor directions and characters I got invested in bore the brunt of it. Regardless of my theory being true or not, I don't want the same to happen to DT.

And I can see reasons why I may be wrong here: David only really gives a damn about Xander, for instance, and we've yet to really discuss the hows and whys of the murder. And I still wonder why J has been getting so much focus when she was barely in Daily Life.

Overall, while I got really negative here, I hope next proves me wrong and things head in a new direction.

[crazy-ache]

Jane Eyre x Elucien Parallels (In-Depth Meta)

We've been told SJM loves the book Jane Eyre and we know that she has made some literary references to the novel in her own writing. For example, the most commonly known Elucien allusion is the one below:

Elain in ACOWAR:  “It felt… strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.”

Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre: “I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I'm afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I'd take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you'd forget me.”

This parallel is a HUGE clue. Now, let me explain why the story of Jane Eyre is very well a map for what Elucien's central themes are likely going to explore in their book.

Could SJM be using Jane Eyre as a model for Elain's character and hero journey? Yes, I do. Here is why.

Let me describe Jane in a nutshell for you: she was someone who came from a difficult and isolated childhood and who used her meekness and reserved nature to fit into circumstances. However, we learn she is a smart, witty, innocent, stubborn, and feminine female protagonist. Despite all the societal and religious pressures to marry a husband, Jane was insistent she would only marry for true love.

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will.” ― Jane in Jane Eyre “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can't have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

....when I was reflecting on that, I was hit with a wow that is Elain Archeron if I have ever seen anything.

Jane Eyre is a story of Fate, Love, and Autonomy. Just like Elucien.

Without getting too wordy, let me summarize a few things for folks who never read the novel.

The connection described between Jane and Rochester is one of fate. Jane and Rochester fall in love from the start because he treats her as equal, but their marriage is thwarted because Rochester is still married to Bertha Mason (the madwoman in his attic).

Even though she loves him, she has complicated feelings about marriage. She is afraid of the restraints and expectations that will be placed on her if she were to marry.

She leaves him for some time and they endure a long period of separation. In that time she meets St John who will also propose to her, but is meant to represent dutiful marriage without true love and warmth. St John was described as a cold love, whereas Rochester was described as fire.

Eventually, she realizes she wants true love above all else, and returns to Rochester. He has lost his wife by then and it is only then that they are free to finally marry and live together as equals in love.

OKAY. That is definitely an oversimplification but I needed to lay it out for our road map. Let's compare now.

Elain and Lucien shared a fated connection created by the Mother with their mating bond. We also know that a long period of their relationship is defined by their separation where Lucien goes to find Vassa and maintains his distance from Elain out of respect of her feelings.

We know Elain likely has complicated feelings about the bond. She says to Feyre, "I don't want a mate. I don't want a male." She is resisting the bond with Lucien. While we don't have her POV yet, I imagine it has to do with resisting something that she doesn't understand, that is taking away her autonomy in love, and influencing her fate for her.

Elain is likely also going to have two marriage prospects, just as Jane did. We know of her engagement to Graysen, who was described as "kind enough" by Nesta and later rejected her horribly. This marriage would have been similar to St John - one more out of duty for status and safety and marked by coldness. Whereas we have Lucien, with fire in his blood, and a warm personality, which is what Jane described true love to be like.

What is keeping Elain and Lucien apart? Bertha Mason.

Bertha, Rochester's wife and mad woman in the attic, was a symbol of Jane's suppressed emotions and inner conflict in regards to Jane's marriage to Mr. Rochester. She represented what Jane feared the most of traditional marriage at that time--becoming trapped and isolated and mad by the female expectations of society and religion.

It was only once Bertha was gone that they could have their Happily Ever After. (It's important to note she perished in a fire.) Her absence was a physical representation of Jane losing her reservations about marriage and fully becoming sure of herself in confidence, status, and her DECISION to pick to true love.

Which tells me that Elain will return and love Lucien only after her own reservations of the mating bond are addressed. Maybe fire will even be involved/symbolic burning of their obstacles (which would be so fitting for our fireling). I think there is also an added layer that Elain wants more from life than what is expected of her by the Inner Circle, which is hinted at throughout ACOSF.

SJM told us herself in an interview:

“I’m not going to say if I am exploring it in future books or not, but it definitely offers a wealth of things to explore with this concept of freewill and what is true love. Is it something that’s destined? Or is it something that you make? Is it both?”

If she is truly influenced by Jane Eyre, we know the answer. When it comes to Elucien, it's both.

Other Symbols of Jane Eyre in Elucien

A few more interesting parallels I found:

Mr. Rochester gifts Jane a pearl necklace upon his first proposal. Jane refuses to wear it and even leaves it behind. "I left that; it was not mine: it was the visionary bride’s who had melted in air." Notice she rejected not because she doesn't like Rochester or the gift itself, but because what it symbolizes. A bride.

Lucien gave Elain pearl earrings for Solstice. She could barely thank him and we never know if she wears it. I am going to infer that Elain rejects the gift (with silence and indifference) because she is terrified of what it represents...of her accepting the bond between them. I found it so interesting SJM chose to use pearls and have them react very similarly.

Jane Eyre is filled with literary symbols of Fire vs Ice, with fire representing passion and true love, and ice representing duty and cold love.

Lucien could very well be a living symbol of fiery, passionate love ("Autumn Court males have fire in their blood—and they fuck like it, too" anyone??) Graysen and Azriel could also be symbols of that "icy, cold" love in comparison to Lucien.

We also cannot forget that Mr. Rochester waited and waited for Jane to return. Just as Lucien is waiting for Elain to be ready.

In Conclusion...

Let me leave you with one more piece of evidence to convince you. In Jane Eyre, Jane says this of Rochester once she has finally decided to be with him:

"All my heart is yours, sir; it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever.”

In ACOWAR, we have this moment between Elain and Graysen:

"I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.” Graysen’s face hardened. “I don’t want it.”

Elain will eventually realize her heart belongs to Lucien Vanserra. And he will give her the true love, peace, and happiness she has always wished for her entire life.

“When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?" He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Lucien's heart already belongs to Elain. Likely since the moment their bond snapped, which is why she can hear his heart.

In their book, Elain will give her heart to Lucien, as it belongs to him. And has likely always belonged to him.

[genericpuff]

I reread episode 24 of LO after having dropped off between seasons 1 and 2 and it genuinely brought me to tears. I feel like there’s no way the theory about Rachel not intending this to be a depiction of SA can be true. The way it’s written feels so powerful and intentional, and I honestly think that makes her dropping the plotline that much worse.

I mean, maybe I’m projecting because of how similar the scenario was to my own experiences, but I just don’t feel convinced that she didn’t fully intend to write this as SA.

The shots of Persephone trying to physically push him away, of her standing shell shocked in the shower, after the fact, her internal dialogue about wanting it to stop but feeling like she can’t take back the “okay” she gave. It’s gut wrenching. And Apollo commenting on her hair and saying she should leave it long is such a brilliant piece of writing that hits like a punch in the gut for us readers who know why it grows.

And honestly, I think that chapter being so well written is what hurts the most. Because it feels like myself and other survivors were lured in by the prospect of seeing our stories told, and getting catharsis through Persephone even if we would never have it. The conversation she has later with Eros, where he states plainly that what happened was rape, not dancing around the word, validating what Persephone and so many real readers have gone through… It’s so, so painful to read that back and know that this plotline was dropped. That we were led to believe we would be seen only to be completely swept under the rug with no resolution to that story.

And I know people criticize that it’s immediately followed by a phone call with Hades, but honestly? After rereading that too? I loved most of the phone call. They had real chemistry, and you could still feel the weight of what just happened in how Persephone carried herself, but as they talked and she had something to distract herself, the burden got a bit lighter, at least for the moment. It felt resonant. Emotionally intelligent.

It’s like you said. Lore Olympus wouldn’t be so easy to hate if it hadn’t been so easy to love. I think it could have been good despite its flaws and problematic elements, because no media is 100% pure— but somewhere along the way, Rachel stopped caring. And THAT is what ruined it.

No but this is so valid, everything you just described was pretty much why I loved the SA plotline in the first place.

I think the scene itself is beautifully written, but it's odd how it becomes more about Persephone simply wanting an "easy way out" of TGOEM, not just in the 'decision' to have sex (i.e. she was coerced and assaulted) but later when she tries to get out of TGOEM, like... is it because she wants to actually date guys, or is it because she doesn't feel like she "deserves" to be in TGOEM anymore due to the assault? The story tries in some places to explore this but never commits to it fully so it's really hard to know what point it's trying to make at times when you actually peel back the layers.

Really the biggest reasons I 'suspect' Rachel of not intending to write a genuine SA plot from the very beginning is because of how... 'back of mind' it is. It only seems to be brought up whenever Rachel can be bothered to remember, but then it's completely juxtaposed against scenes where it should affect her (or reasonably would) and it doesn't. Case in point, a few episodes after she tells Eros what happened and he confirms it was rape, he tries to convince her to go into Hades' office dressed in a trenchcoat and nothing else underneath and it's like bro... this girl just told you what she went through, why are you suggesting she try to seduce her boss who she doesn't even really know yet LOL

As a result , it really does just make it feel like the SA scene is just there to make Apollo an easy villain, and Hades an easy hero, with the only definitions being "well, Hades didn't assault her, so he's definitely the better choice!" (as if Apollo was ever a 'choice' to begin with, Persephone didn't like him from day 1 so there was basically no chance of there being a love triangle setup except for the audience members who quickly latched onto that "I guess he's cute if you squint a little" line). And with the way episodes are chopped up, separating points of the narrative from each other, it feels like whenever stuff does happen (esp surrounding the SA plot) it's because Rachel's finally bought herself enough time to come up with something, like the therapy episode, Eros confirming it was assault, Persephone stealing the lyre with the intent of hiding it from Apollo (only to then willingly show it to him alone in her bedroom with him a handful of episodes later), etc.

If she did intend to write an SA scene from the beginning, it doesn't feel like she thought the plotline through fully to make it actually feel genuine (and this goes for a lot of the subplots in LO, they always seem to start off as these base "get your attention" ideas but with no actual follow through). And with Apollo now being written as this "huehue you fell right into my trap!" villain (and very poorly I might add) it just feels like the SA is now taking a backseat to, "Actually, Apollo is the bad guy because he wants to overthrow his dad or some shit. Forget the SA happened, I don't wanna write about it anymore."

All those points aside, I agree with you fully, if Rachel cared about what she was trying to write back when the SA was first shown, then that level of care definitely doesn't seem to be there anymore and it's such a shame to see. It just feels like it's being used for artificial drama and nothing more and that's so frustrating and disappointing for many of the SA victims who are critical of this story (including myself) to see when that plotline originally felt like comforting visibility.

[redjadethewriter]

Blank the Series: The Novel vs The Show

After finally sitting down and reading the source material for the series, I must admit that I had expected it to be more provocative. However, to me, it was more like reading a soft-core erotica - nothing too outrageous. I hesitate to even classify it as soft-core, but that’s the best way I can describe it. Of course, anything involving BDSM is bound to stand out.

Despite my initial reservations, I found myself engaged in the love story between Khun Nueng and Anueng. The story, although a bit too PG-13 for my taste, held my attention. In my analysis of the series, I primarily focused on the character interactions, their internal struggles, insecurities, and how these factors influenced their actions and decisions.

Being a crone, I naturally gravitated towards examining Khun Nueng’s character more closely, as I found her to be the most relatable. However, I must acknowledge that Anueng is a well-developed character as well. She serves as a reminder that, regardless of age, individuals can possess cunning and resourcefulness.

While Anueng may appear childish around Khun Nueng in the series, after reading the novel, I gained a deeper understanding of why she expresses herself in such an over-the-top and annoying manner. It’s because she wants to elicit a reaction from Khun Nueng, as it seems to be the only way to make her “look more human” or act like it. In the novel, Khun Nueng rarely shows facial reactions unless she’s prompted to do so, which Anueng does often. Otherwise, Khun Nueng would simply hide behind her stoic mask all the time.

Interestingly, Khun Nueng’s go-to response to anyone expressing a romantic interest in her is, “Are you worthy of me?” as a tactic of scaring them away. This phrase serves as her motto, even though she doesn’t have any specific criteria for determining who would be worthy of her love, mainly because she has never truly loved anyone. So, when Anueng challenges this line by asserting, “I’m not today, but I will become worthy,” it deeply shocks our ice queen, both in the novel and in the series. It’s something she never expected.

As I’ve mentioned before, Khun Nueng finds herself in quite a bit of trouble because she has met her match in Anueng. They are contrasting yet compatible characters, and that’s what I find intriguing. They possess similarities that draw them closer together while also reflecting their deepest flaws. In a striking revelation, I realized their insecurities were actually quite similar, but in reverse. Anueng becomes jealous because of her insecurities about being young and not having much to offer, constantly worrying that Khun Nueng might end up with someone her own age who has a more established life. On the other hand, Khun Nueng frets about being too old and the possibility of the young girl eventually growing bored with her, changing her mind, and leaving.

Khun Nueng exhibits striking similarities to her grandmother, both in the series and in the novel. They share an icy demeanor, a controlling nature, and a toxic fixation on perfectionism. Despite leaving behind her privileged status, these traits have carried over into her more humble life as an artist. I now understand that her choice to rebel against her grandmother was not all simply out of spite, but a deliberate decision to assert her own identity.

While Khun Nueng desires her grandmother to acknowledge her responsibility for Song’s death and their collective suffering, she also longs to discover her true self. Above all else, Khun Nueng yearns to experience a wider range of emotions. She craves the taste of disappointment, having never truly felt loved or experienced the exhilaration of a racing heart. In the show, she exemplifies this by placing her hand over her heart and feeling it race in the presence of Anueng.

Khun Nueng lacks ambition. Although she pursues a career as an artist to sustain herself, she does not envision it as a long-term path. She wishes to continue using her artistic talents, but without the constraints of working for someone else. Her yearning for freedom outweighs any financial concerns, despite her constant struggle to make ends meet. In fact, Khun Nueng embraces the hardships that come with being a “starving artist.” Her upbringing with her grandmother shielded her from feelings of disparity and anguish, making the challenges she faces now exhilarating rather than burdensome.

Khun Nueng remains unimpressed by materialism and possesses a practical approach to life. She values essentials like food over fancy clothes, which captivate Anueng in the novel. Khun Nueng refuses to let those who flaunt their status and wealth sway her, as she cannot be bought.

Overall, Khun Nueng’s character is complex and multi-faceted. Her resemblance to her grandmother, with her stoic demeanor, her secret pursuit for emotional depth, her lack of ambition, and her indifference towards status all contribute to her unique persona.

While watching the series, I noticed that the first episode started the story at a much later scene from the novel. In this scene, the characters were already familiar with each other. Initially, I was confused because I wondered why Khun Nueng walked the girl to the bus-stop and knew which bus Anueng needed to get on. The wordplay exchange between them, especially with Anueng stating she was running away and asking to stay with Khun Nueng, added to my confusion.

As I continued watching, around episode 2 or 3, I noticed the girl had a lot of drawings that Khun Nueng had made for her. Being the analytical person that I am, I figured they must have met multiple times before. My confirmation of this came later when I read the story.

To explain Khun Nueng’s constant worry for the girl’s safety and her habit of always walking her to the bus stop, we found out that since the day they met, Khun Nueng had discreetly made sure Anueng got home safely at late hours. She would even follow Anueng from a distance to her house. From day one, our favorite dead-face character had been the protector, constantly concerned about the girl’s well-being.

I would like to highlight the similarities between Khun Nueng and her younger sister, Sam. However, before discussing their similarities, it is important to address the issues that arise between siblings. The reason Khun Nueng behaves more like their grandmother is because she received the most attention from her. Sam acknowledges this fact, admitting that although both of them were loved by their grandmother, she never had her undivided attention. This observation became clear to me while watching Gap the Series, as Sam was the one who received the least amount of attention. This dynamic only changed when Khun Nueng left and after Song passed away.

Even until the very end of their grandmother’s life, Sam tried to convey this, trying to get Khun Nueng to reconcile with their grandmother. Episode 6 showcased their close relationship, despite their occasional conflicts. I also understand the perspective of sibling favoritism, as Khun Nueng received the most scrutiny and was molded by their grandmother to potentially take her place in the future. This is why I see such striking similarities between Khun Nueng and their grandmother. However, Sam and Khun Nueng are undeniably similar as siblings. Sam has a tendency to express her jealousy openly, while Khun Nueng displays it in a manner that is passive-aggressive. Both of them struggle to admit their jealousy and have a tendency to hurt their partners in the process, as they refuse to acknowledge their own flaws and weaknesses.

Sam undergoes a transformation. We witnessed her growth in Gap the Series, and in Blank the Series, we see Sam attempting to show her love for Mon by baking a pie from scratch. This action surprised Khun Nueng, especially considering she could have easily purchased one from a top-tier bakery. However, Sam wanted to infuse her love into the pie.

We observe a similar act of love in episode 6, but this time it is Khun Nueng cooking home-cooked meals for Anueng instead of going out to eat. This is why I concluded by saying, “Girl... you are lying to yourself.” Cooking for someone is an incredibly personal gesture, and I don’t do it for just anyone. Therefore, I know fully that she constantly deceives herself.

In conclusion, the novel and the series share many similarities. Although there were some necessary omissions and alterations to the timeline and character interactions, I hope these changes will be seamlessly integrated in season 2, maintaining the steady pacing that has been established. Based on the first 6 episodes, I have a sense of what elements they might keep and what they may change. However, I do hope that they don’t stray too far from the meaningful aspects of the original source material, which I won’t go into detail about. I must acknowledge that the novel was clever in incorporating elements that kept me engaged until a satisfying conclusion. Therefore, if I see these same qualities in the series, I will be truly impressed, and the show will prove itself to be deserving of my attention.

I appreciate the good content.

Thank you.

[pinkeoni]

What the Upside Down Means for Will’s Narrative

(and why it’s so important for him to go back)

For this post, I’ll be using my own handy-dandy little Hero’s Journey chart that I made for this post.

Quick summary: The Hero’s Journey or the monomyth is an idea proposed by American writer Joseph Campbell that all stories follow this similar structure, using Homer’s The Odyssey as a guideline for naming different parts of the cycle.

So! With every story, there is a divide between the “Known World,” the world that the heroes feel comfortable in, and the “Unknown World,” or the world that the heroes must “cross the threshold” in to that they must learn to navigate.

Not every story is going to follow this structure, although I know that this show took inspiration, considering that their Known World and Unknown World has a very literal interpretation in this universe.

The Known World being the Rightside Up, and the Unknown World being the Upside Down.

But of course, elements of the Hero’s Journey (or monomyth) are meant to be transformative. For El, her Unknown World is the world outside the lab, and for the rest of our protagonists in season one, I would describe the Known World as “The World With Will Byers In It” and the Unknown World as “The World Without Will Byers In It,” considering that his disappearance is what kickstarts the story in the first place.

But still, the existence of this literal Other World is still present

And yet the one character who actually crosses the threshold into this Other World… is Will.

Well that’s untrue… kind of. There are other characters who spend their fair share of time inside the UD. Nancy goes on a little jaunt through there in s1. Jopper go in to rescue Will at the end of s1. The teenagers have their little mission in there in s4.

The difference between all of these examples has to do with when in the story it occurs, creating a different meaning for each of their respective narratives. With all of the above examples, the threshold has already been crossed, making the Upside Down more of a trial to be conquered.

I guess I should mention El’s brief appearance there in the beginning of s2, although I would argue that while yes the UD is connected to her, her story tends to revolve around the lab and the outside world.

This means that the Upside Down is more narratively significant to Will than to any other character

I just lied again.

While we don’t see Vecna enter the Upside Down until the end of s4, chronologically speaking, it does mark the beginning of a new chapter of his story, and preludes the rest of the show as we know it. (Yet another similarity between Will and Vecna)

Why does he have to go back?

Considering the confirmation that season 5 is going to focus on Will…

There’s a step in the Hero’s Journey called “Master of Both Worlds” where the hero becomes, as the name suggest, a master of both the Known and the Unknown world. Will may have been able to outsmart the Upside Down by hiding, but I wouldn’t say that he’s really a master of it.

Furthermore, there’s another step in the Hero’s Journey that comes before crossing the threshold and after the initial “call to adventure,” which is “refusal of the call,” where the hero turns away from what the story calls upon them for, before crossing intentionally. Will was taken by force into the Upside Down, so all of that agency was taken.

Will needs to master the Upside Down, in whatever form that may be, and he has to want it

The term “coming of age” is used a lot when describing Will’s journey in season 5, which is interesting considering that the Hero’s Journey is often closely associated with coming of age stories.

My prediction is that Will is going to be following this cycle very closely and very literally next season, crossing the threshold from the Rightside Up back into the Upside Down, becoming the master of both worlds and finally coming of age.

[nanomooselet]

Trigun Vol. One

Why, d'you think, they went with Stampede as a title?

I have a theory! And it conveniently involves the first volumes of the manga, so it's bookclub relevant.

The first volumes of Trigun and Trigun Maximum open with a distinctly ominous air. An image of disaster. A tattered silhouette. A blood-red eye, a hill of graves, and a celestial body permanently scarred. A date etched in time and a tale that must be told, accompanied by an imperative, a command: Look! Remember! Not knowing Japanese I can't say this for sure, but I'd wager it takes on the same tone, or at least one with a similar effect: ceremonial and grandiose, like an epic or a proclamation - and not one that you're happy to hear.

This is not a celebration. This is a dire warning.

Vash isn't introduced by the narrative in terms of his cleverness, kindness or other heroic traits, but representing a threat. Knives occasionally describes himself the same way, but (and do correct me if I misremember) he's never similarly backed up by an omniscient narrative voice. Or to put it in other words, everything Knives says is just, like, his opinion, because he isn't really that impressive. He's not the objectively scary one.

Vash is.

Which is such a contrast with Vash as we get to know him after this introduction. ("Note: Staunch pacifist" is one of my favourite gags, by the way.)

He's a sweetheart and a goober who complains that he'd rather buy pizza than bullets, and more poignantly a man burdened by hidden, unimaginable grief. Yet his inherent danger, the terror of his being, is a facet of his character you ignore at your own peril, driving most of the plot and several characters' development. And that is why it's the very first thing we learn.

I firmly believe that simply to know Vash is to love him, but also to be at least a little justifiably afraid of him - and he knows it too. It's inextricable to his nature.

Trigun Stampede... I hesitate to say it flips that on its head, because it doesn't, but it certainly takes a differing approach to our first introduction.

This Vash is a man who's been wrongfully accused of terrible crimes. He's put a lot of effort into his harmless bit not because he's the direct cause of destruction, but because he holds himself responsible for the destruction caused by his brother. In general, he isn't what you'd expect from a hero, or even a main character. He's reactive, and you have to play close attention to his actions and expressions to follow his inner conflict, because there's no narration or internal monologue to highlight it.

So why does the show call itself Trigun Stampede?

My theory is this: this manga tells the story of being Vash the Stampede.

Orange told a story about becoming him. And that's a preposition rather different from your average heroic origin, because, as we see, Vash has always been something different from your average hero.

[terramythos]

I got tagged by @gunkreads to give 3 book recs. Apparently this was supposed to be 1 sentence a book originally but who gives a shit.

1. A Memory Called Empire (Teixcalaan #1) by Arkady Martine

A Memory Called Empire is the first book in the Teixcalaan duology, a scifi space opera which focuses on the intergalactic empire of Teixcalaan, loosely based on the Aztec empire. The first book follows Mahit, a newly appointed ambassador from the independent Lsel Station, who comes to Teixcalaan's home planet after the mysterious death of the previous ambassador Yskandr. She soon finds herself caught up in the brutal yet seductive political intrigue of Teixcalaan as she investigates her predecessor's demise.

Mahit has a deadly secret-- a brain implant known as an imago which is imprinted with the memories of a younger Yskandr. Periodically he 'talks' to her and gives her advice. The imagos are a proprietary technology essential to Lsel Station's way of life-- a means to quickly train each generation to perform and survive dangerous jobs in the void of space-- and are a closely guarded state secret. But they're also a taboo concept to Teixcalaani culture, and discovery would put her and her people in danger.

This book and its sequel A Desolation Called Peace were both such a pleasant surprise to me. The prose is lovely-- elevated and intelligent without being pretentious. Frankly I love everything about these books. The characters are fascinating, and the thematic explorations of empire, identity, and sense of self are exquisite. The writing is so layered and intricate it's a joy to read. Specifically I love how Martine weaves the themes of the story directly into the characters' thoughts and actions. Like it's fucking CONSTANT but in a way that makes me chew at the walls and go crazy. The second book is probably my favorite but the first book is a great start.

You want a book where politics are performed through poetic verse? Fucking read A Memory Called Empire. Ok I love you bye

2. Jade City (The Green Bone Saga #1) by Fonda Lee

Jade City is the first book in a trilogy of what I can only describe as a fantasy/mafia/martial arts fusion series. Basically it takes place in a world similar to our own but with one main difference: jade grants people magic powers, and the China analogue Kekon is the only nation with access to and control over it. The story follows the No Peak clan, one of the Kekonese crime families with control and political influence over jade as a resource.

The whole trilogy takes place over a 50 years or so span and it's fascinating to see how the main cast changes over time alongside the country of Kekon and the world at large, and how jade as a resource influences international politics. There's a lot of intrigue throughout the series and I found it super entertaining. It also has some of the best fight scene choreography I've ever had the pleasure to read. Definitely a strong recommendation from me.

It's been a few years since I read it so I'm vague on some of the details, but that's the general gist. Sorry if I totally missed something lol

3. Annihilation (The Southern Reach #1) by Jeff VanderMeer

One of my favorite books ever- Annihilation is a short horror novel following an expedition of four women sent into a supernatural 'pristine wilderness' known as Area X. Told from the perspective of a character known simply as 'the biologist' we gradually learn about the downfall of her expedition and the bizarre happenings within Area X. While some questions are answered, many more remain by the end.

Annihilation is the first book in the Southern Reach trilogy, soon to be a quadrilogy with the surprise release of a new book Absolution this year, which I'm looking forward to. But even on its own it's a solid, creepy ecological horror story. Despite the short length, Annihilation has many layers to the narrative and plays around with unreliable narration a lot. This holds true for the series as a whole, and I HIGHLY recommend re-reading Annihilation after finishing the third book should you decide to continue the series. It's really crazy how much it sets up and foreshadows the later books while standing on its own. It's a short read but I wouldn't call it an easy read, and I mean this as a compliment.

Before you ask-- while I enjoy the movie adaptation, it is very LOOSELY based on the novel. I think the novel is much better, but outside the tone, atmosphere, and basic character setup, the book is a much different experience.

As for tagging people i think the whole mutual group has been tagged 😭 so i tag @mistressofmuses, @heywizards, and anyone who wants to do this!

[arachnixe]

Execution

(Part 9 of Night’s Longing - Previous: Past Hungers, Past Mistakes)

Carmen seems more withdrawn than before after sharing that story, as though even she was caught by surprise that those memories still have some power over her. A little fun in bed helps distract her for a moment, but I get the feeling she also uses it to distract me from the topic.

I try to get her to open up to me, permit herself to show even an ounce of vulnerability, but she smoothly redirects my efforts with flirtations until we’re fucking again because I simply cannot ever resist her.

At the very least I can offer her my company and my support, even when it’s four in the afternoon and I notice that Carmen’s snuck out of bed to brood in silence. I make her coffee just the way she likes, bringing it to her and sitting in the same room as her.

I wonder, and not for the first time, how much heartbreak someone her age has experienced. I guess it never gets any easier.

The story she told sticks with me for more reasons. She described a collection of vampiric abilities I have heard of but never before witnessed in the possession of any single vampire. I have heard tales, of course, of the “archvampires” slain by my ancestors, the greatest of which commanded a similarly fantastic array of powers. Until recently, I believed them to be exaggerations for the sake of inflating the reputations of those old, revered hunters. Yet Carmen’s abilities are perfectly in line with even the tallest tales.

It terrifies me the first time I watch Carmen pass by her curtains—frankly inadequate ones, letting slip a thin slice of sunlight through the gap during the pre-sundown hours—and I watch, stunned, as the light momentarily passes over her with hardly a sizzle.

“Not sunscreen,” she tells me, laughing, when I confront her with my first, admittedly silly, guess. “It is not the same ultraviolet radiation which gives humans a sunburn that also purges our kind from the world. It is specifically daylight. We are ontologically of night itself at the most fundamental level. A vampire is dispelled by the sun in precisely the same way that night is.”

I can only reply with stammering, half-formed words stumbling over each other, but she takes pity on my confusion and offers me a little more explanation.

“Resistance is not altogether impossible, though I remain a creature of night. You could say I have kissed the moon and may hide in its shadow.” She gestures as if groping for words that don’t come easily to her, at least in English. “In an occult sense, I mean to say.”

It’s clear that I’m not satisfied by such a metaphorical answer, and Carmen sighs. “It works something like your Boltman blessings. Here. One visible element of the work of many years.” She lifts her shirt to direct my attention to a particular cluster of lines tattooed below her ribs. “Before I ever became a vampire, I was something of a mystic. I have always loathed my own weakness, thus I work to diminish what flaws I cannot eliminate.”

Something about Carmen’s body language reads as vulnerable as she confesses this one small detail of her early life, and she seems relieved that I choose to pull her into a hug rather than pry further.

“Sorry.” My words are muffled with my face pressed into her. My heart isn’t done pounding with that initial panic of seeing the sunlight touch her. “I just need a second.”

Her gentle touch on my back is reassuring. “You do not need to worry about me.”

“I do a lot of things I don’t need to. Don’t try to talk me out of this one.”

“As you wish, darling.” She wraps her arms around me too. “I only mean to say that I have offered to help you overcome the circumstances of your birth, which would be an empty promise indeed from someone unable to exert similar influence even on herself. I ask you not to doubt my strength.”

I groan. “Fuck, I hate it when you talk like my dad. Worrying about you isn’t a slight, Carmen! It doesn’t mean I think you’re less cool and smart and powerful! It doesn’t mean I doubt your ability to help and protect me! It means I care about you!”

I feel a tremor in Carmen’s body, at first seeming much like sobbing, but after a moment I realize it’s laughter.

“Even now,” she says quietly, to herself, and I can’t guess what she means, but I only hold her tighter.

We stay like this together for a while longer.

---

The notification sound sends my heart bouncing around my ribcage. I check my phone, and it’s Liz. No greeting, no preamble, just a time and an address.

“Do you need a ride?” Carmen asks without needing any explanation at all.

I nod dumbly, momentarily paralyzed by the unexpected shattering of this peaceful time together before the phantom voice of my father roars in my brain to move.

I move. My gear is propped in the corner, waiting for me, and I make myself ready for battle faster than I ever have in my life.

We scream across the city in her convertible, once again hitting all the green lights—and now I’m wondering which of her tattoos controls the flow of traffic—on our way to where my target is supposed to be. The sunset casts the city in shades of gold which Carmen only requires a pair of shades to endure.

She could probably take on someone like Ylio without breaking a sweat, couldn’t she? Based on what she’s told me of herself and the stories passed down about how far beyond ordinary vampires the archvampires were, it would be no trouble for her even if Ylio brought friends to back them up.

I look to my left at her handsome face and remember how she immediately offered this very ride. How she offered to save me from the doom of my bloodline. Of course she would be willing to help. She might even insist on it.

But asking someone to kill their own is not an easy thing, is it? It’s a terrible burden to place on someone, especially when this is not her fight at all. It’s mine, for the sake of me and my sisters. Bearing the guilt of this assassination should be my burden alone.

I can’t let her come with me.

“Carmen, I don’t want your help with this.”

“As you wish.”

After bracing myself for an argument, I’m caught off guard. “Huh. Just like that?”

“Darling, I understand more than most the importance of vengeance against one’s own killer.” After a moment’s silence, she adds, “I also admit to some curiosity. How does a modern Boltman fight, I wonder? I will enjoy observing from a distance.”

A modern Boltman. In this context, hunting a vampire, I suppose that’s just what I am. It’s a role bolted through my flesh into my bones, and right now, as I wear the uniform of what I am, how can I pretend that I am anything more than Hanna Boltman, Vampire Hunter?

Deep breaths, Hanna. I can endure this the same way I always have. I just need to hold my feelings at arm’s length and let the body do as it was trained to do.

Exiting the car a few blocks early, I leave Carmen to find a place to park and a vantage from which to watch. With wary steps, I approach my destination.

I expect someone as pompous as Ylio to feed at one of the ritzy and exclusive vampire clubs. Sanguine Dreams, for example, feels like their speed; it’s a place that requires reservations in advance, and if you’ve got the connections and ability to pay for the VIP lounge, I hear they bring your food and entertainment to you live, and the presentation is supposed to be something really special. Now that I think about it, I’d bet Carmen could get in. That could make for a nice date night.

This side of town, though? It’s far removed from all Clan Sarthe fronts and infrastructure I’m aware of, and the address turns out to be an old, dilapidated building, four stories tall and from the turn of the last century. I can’t guess what it was once for. Banking? A factory? Moonshine during Prohibition? The windows are boarded up, the roof looks partially collapsed, and even the brick wall looks dark and rotting. The words “no entry” are spray painted on the side of the building.

What, does Ylio go after squatters? How unexpectedly pathetic.

It’s still early. I’m in luck that Carmen’s solar resistance means that we didn’t have to wait till full sundown to head this way. I have just enough time to scout the area, lay my trap, and find a place to hide.

The parking lot is overgrown with weeds, crumbling chunks of concrete filled by a late addition of gravel to smooth it out. Light glints off shards of glass and other assorted garbage among the detritus. Not an ideal place for a fight, all things considered. Keeping my footing here could be a challenge, but I might be able to hide something small in the cracks, cover it with gravel.

And there, adjacent to the parking lot, is another old building. Not quite so large, not quite so condemned, it should make a good place to hide. The alleyway between it and the next building down is just narrow enough for my purposes. I sprint, vault onto a friendly dumpster, leap toward the opposite building to kick off the wall and catch the lip of this building’s roof.

The roof is flat, with enough of a raised ridge around it for me to lay flat and conceal myself from anyone below me. The drop back down is only two stories, which is perfectly doable without a roll—and after seeing all the broken glass down there, I count myself lucky for that.

I prep my crossbow and settle in to wait.

It’s hard to ignore the itch in the back of my mind telling me something is off. My target isn’t just prideful; according to Liz they’re influential. They have allies. This is the sort of place haunted by weak, orphaned vampires, those without connection to their own community.

In a place much like this, back when I was a teenager, my father supervised my first few solo hunts. I remember at the time feeling shocked at how easy those kills were. Back then I didn’t even see vampires as people.

“That’s it?” I asked. “One shot to the heart, and it’s over?”

“Frail, weak, easy pickings for even a novice,” he said. “That’s the fate of anyone, hunter or bloodsucker, who lacks the support of others.”

It was one of many lessons he drilled into me repeatedly over the years.

“Without me, you wouldn’t know how to operate that crossbow. You wouldn’t have practiced your aim. You wouldn’t know where to shoot.” He severed my victim’s head to make absolutely sure they were finished. “Without my mother, I would not have known to teach you those lessons. Without the generations of Boltmans who came before us, without our clan’s hard-won discoveries and the lore of our allies, you and I would be as helpless as babes.

“Each of us is born owing a debt to our clan. Some few of us have the ability and work ethic to pay that debt in full before we die. If you manage to pass the trials, inherit my sword, and continue our family legacy, and if you or one of your descendants manages to rid this world of its vampiric scourge, then perhaps I will have done enough to pay mine off.”

I was 14 years old. “That’s a lot of pressure, dad.”

“It is the appropriate amount of pressure, Hanna. Our bloodline, like few others, is a holy one. It is blessed. We have been gifted the profound privilege to devote our lives in service to others.” He clapped me on the shoulder in a gesture that seemed like camaraderie, the sort of gesture that was as close as he ever got to expressing fatherly affection.

“Yes, sir. We are elevated above others for a reason, and it is our burden to bear that responsibility.”

“Exactly. Remember, none of us matter as individuals; all that matters is how we contribute.” Through repetition, he burned these lessons into my heart. “I do not matter, though I can make myself useful by killing monsters and sculpting you into the family’s next great weapon. You do not matter except through your obedience to me and how well you prove your dedication.”

“Yes, sir. I will make you proud.”

“See that you do. As my only heir, the worth of my life depends on the worth of yours.”

In a way, I’m glad I learned selflessness from my father. Family comes first— remembering that lesson dispels whatever unease creeps up my chest. Killing Ylio is not just a matter of revenge for my own sake; doing so eliminates a threat to my sisters. I cannot fail.

Twilight dims. Voices drift upward from the empty lot. Two figures round the corner of the broken-down building to chat in the ruins of the parking lot. One leans against the wall, looking relaxed, while the other scans in every direction, acting as lookout for threats.

I hear a soft crunch of footsteps far too close to me. I turn and see the silhouette of a third against the sky, standing on the opposite side of the roof from me. Did they leap up here just now? They’re keeping watch too, I realize, but whoever this is, they haven’t noticed me yet, their attention focused on the street below.

Shit, this is a complication I hadn’t planned for. The other person’s head turns in my direction, and I have no time to think before I fire my crossbow to stake the unexpected intruder in the heart. They collapse in near silence, the sound masked effectively by the city’s background noise of car traffic and distant sirens.

I check the body to be sure. Fangs. For the first time in years, I’ve killed a vampire again. Not even my target, just a witness, killed out of panic. Shit. Who were they? No identification, no Sarthe markings—or markings of any other clan I recognize—only a winged ouroboros tattoo on their back.

Did you have a family? Is there someone out there who will stay up wondering why you never came home? Or are you all alone in this world like those first poor, nameless victims of mine were?

I knew I might have to kill more than just Ylio. Liz said they have allies. I knew I might have to do this.

There will be time later to mourn the cost. Already I hear more voices approaching, and I think I recognize the imperious sound of my target’s among them. I reload my crossbow and wait for the right moment to spring the trap.

The three new figures approach the two. I hold my breath, straining to catch their words.

Ylio speaks first. “Look all around, the moon shines bright.”

“We and the dead make swift our flight,” replies the one leaning against the building with an air of ease.

The one on guard seems to relax after this exchange, and the two groups approach one another. Such a tight cluster of them, nearly ideal, but something makes me hesitate. That itch at the back of my mind returns. This isn’t what I expected to find. Something else is going on here.

“What news from Sarthe?”

Ylio makes a dismissive gesture. “The pieces move into place. No new risks. What obstacles remain are on track to be dealt with.”

The wail of a siren masks the reply, and by the time I pick out more words, Ylio is speaking again. “…your recovery efforts?”

“Our associates overseas have delivered his left hand to the courier. We anticipate delivery in a matter of weeks.”

“Should we be expecting you?”

“No. Best to avoid showing our faces. You’ll meet the courier directly.”

“I will set expectations accordingly.”

Shit, one of Ylio’s companions has broken away from the group, and the longer I wait, the more risk I take. It’s now or never. I twist my hand into the trigger sign and leap from my perch as artificial daylight blooms into life inside the parking lot.

Lucky break for me, the wary one was standing right at the center of the blast, and as the brief flash of light fades, all that remains of them is ash. With a twang, the one who stepped away from the blast is staked through the heart. I drop the crossbow and draw my sword.

Three badly charred vampires remain, staring me down with bloody murder in their eyes. It’s the dead of night, and their burns are healing right before my eyes, but right now I have a brief window of weakness to capitalize on. God, they’re still fast, though, dodging every swing of my blade as if I were moving in slow motion.

The one to my left lunges for me, fangs bared, and I nearly fail to raise my silvered bracer in time to defend myself. He screams in pain as the metal brands his skin, giving me an opening to strike that I have to abandon in order to dive away from the swipe of Ylio’s clawed hand.

I roll and leap to my feet, drawing a set of knives to fling in one smooth arc toward my attackers. Ylio bats one out of the air with contemptuous ease, but in a stroke of luck, one pierces the throat of the other vampire, dropping her to the ground as she hisses and claws in vain at the ensorcelled metal. She’s down, at least.

Ylio keeps coming for me, and they’re only getting faster and deadlier as their burns heal. The one who chomped my bracer is back in the fight too, and he’s furious. At the very least his blind outrage is making him a poor collaborator for Ylio, and the two interfere with one another enough for me to keep dancing out of their reach.

Still, all I can do with my sword is buy myself a little breathing room, one swing at a time. I utterly fail to land a single strike.

Then my luck takes a turn for the worse. I slip on loose gravel and tumble backward, and in a blink my assailant has pounced on me.

“You wretched little shit, I’ll make you—“

“Idiot.” I shut him up by ripping my talisman off its chain and shoving it in his mouth. You don’t stop to threaten someone in the middle of a fight, as I quickly demonstrate. When I speak the invocation, he bursts into flames. I kick the burning body at my last remaining opponent, making space to leap back to my feet.

“I know that voice. Elizabeth’s dog.”

Shit. “N-no…?” Good work, Hanna. That ought to throw them off the trail.

“You are.” Somehow they see through my cunning lie. “At last I begin to fit the pieces together. She has been hiding a vampire hunter in our midst this whole time.”

Ugh. I have one last trick up my sleeve, and I won’t be able to make it work unless they get in close. Worst case scenario, Ylio flees, knowing that I am a vampire hunter, and spreads the story of what happened here. No evidence of past heroics could save me from the condemnation that would follow. But more important than me is what would become of my sisters if they were believed to knowingly smuggle a hunter into a Sarthe stronghold.

“As if she knew.” I put as much scorn as I can muster into my voice. “You asked how a low-class vampire like her got a bloodbag of her own? I chose her for her gullibility. The status I could bring her was too good a deal to scrutinize very closely.”

I hope they buy it. Better for my sisters to be seen as fools than traitors.

“How I almost pity her.” Ylio shakes their head, accepting my story. Few things are easier than convincing someone that a person they despise is an idiot. “Ah, but instead I will enjoy using this secret to destroy her reputation.”

“You’ll have to kill me first. Without taking me as proof, nobody will believe the bloodbag you killed just got up and started murdering people back.” I grin and brandish my sword with a flourish. “But as you can see, I’m pretty hard to put down for good.”

“Cocky. But I have stalled for time long enough, and as you can see, I am back at full strength. Now, for the last time, I bid you goodbye, dog.”

Ylio moves in a blur almost too fast to track. In an instant, they are upon me, claws at my neck. My sword falls from my hand. The vampire’s deadly strike is slowed down only for the briefest moment by the gorget I wear.

However, I am ready for them, and that brief moment is all I need. I squeeze the trigger secreted in my palm and spray a fine mist of holy water—really a specially prepared emulsion of salt water and oils enhanced with theurgy—and the fine cloud halts the attack, forcing Ylio to recoil immediately.

Skin sizzles. They choke and gasp, inhaling more into their lungs, inspiring a paroxysm of coughing and hacking up blood. I run my sword through their chest, and the fight is over.

Numbly, moving on autopilot, I behead all four bodies, just the way I was taught, though only the one with the knife through her neck is still twitching and clinging to life.

Six vampires total, dead by my hand. None of them carry any identification on them, though all bear the same mark of the winged ouroboros. Except for one, I’ll never even know their names. Maybe in another life, we could have been friends.

Six more faces that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I drop to my knees and give myself permission to grieve.

Though my hands are stained with death, at least my family is safe.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

any high school fics where they get together really early on or are already together please? preferably they are or are similar to their canon selves. thank you!!!! :))

Here are some random fics that I've chosen from our high!school Klaine tab, and hope they suit. ~Jen

Redefining Views by inkinmyheartandonthepage [EPUB] [PDF]

Burt and Carol are getting closer and Finn has yet to meet Burt’s son, Kurt. Kurt isn’t like Finn, he’s the type of boy that Finn bullies. Finn and New Directions are about to meet the epic-ness of KLAINE!

~~~~~

The Architects of Life by misqueue

Follows the development of Kurt and Blaine’s relationship in the canon timeline from 3x05 “The First Time”.

~~~~~

Shiftings  by @chazzam  

The shift in their relationship didn’t come out of left field at all. Beneath the surface, things had been changing all along.  This fic describes what changed in Kurt ant Blaine’s relationship to make him realize that his feelings for Kurt were more than just friendship. 

~~~~~~

Family Week by DreamingisBelieving

Mr. Schue gives the assignment for the week: Family. That sends Blaine into a frenzy, because he never got along with his family, but with Kurt by his side, he’ll be fine, right?

~~~~~

Are you spying? by @nineofhearts4

Rachel graduates after the New Directions wins Nationals, leaving Kurt as the new captain of the Glee Club. He is left to pull a new team together, including finding a 12th member after auditions fall flat. He resorts to posting on a show choir forum to recruit new members, where he meets another poster by the name of BWarbler, who happens to be very fed up with his own glee Club, which is now run by Sebastian Smythe. They strike up a friendship online, never realizing that they are show choir rivals who will meet and compete against one another at Regionals. ....until they do

~~~~~

The Sex Investigation Squad by thetimesinbetween

Blaine has befriended the rest of the New Directions guys. In return, they become obsessed with his and Kurt’s sex life. (They’re pretty sure it doesn’t exist and have agreed that, if it does, it probably involves lots of candles and flower petals. But they need to make sure.) Meanwhile, Kurt and Blaine are in an established, happy, sexual Dom/sub relationship, and they’re getting increasingly desperate because people keep interrupting their time alone. Things…well, things escalate.

~~~~~

Nine in the Afternoon by lexinwonderland [PDF] [EPUB]

After Kurt chokes at Regionals, causing them to lose. Blaine does everything he can to reassure him that he still loves him and cares about him. And if that means he has to sing his favorite Panic! At The Disco song, well that’s a plus for him.

~~~~~~

99 perspectives on a single love story by @spaceorphan18

The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

~~~~

Glass Houses by JennMel

In an alternate universe, all babies are born with a level of empathic sensitivity to others; an ability to sense emotions, to glimpse deep into a person’s soul with just a kiss. Except Kurt Hummel. Registering at a mere 0.5 on the Hawkins Scale of Empathic Sensitivity, Kurt has resigned himself to a lonely life, empty of touch or true love. That is, until the mysterious Blaine Anderson transfers to McKinley, and everything Kurt thought he knew was changed. But finding love is never easy, even in a world where everyone’s emotions are shared. This is the story of the boy who could not feel, and the boy who felt too much.

~~~~~

Delinquent By balletismyobsession

Kurt is starting to lose hope that life at McKinley can be anything more than daily trauma, but that changes when a dark-haired mystery boy transfers and sends rumors swirling. But Kurt is determined not to write Blaine off. As they grow closer, spill painful pasts, and begin to trust one another and heal, they find more than they ever thought they could: someone to call home.

[youngerfrankenstein]

So today I watched two movies where the deuteragonist goes kinda nuts and turns into a dragon thing, before the protagonist has to calm them down.

They were both a pretty fun time!

Promare is something I had been meaning to watch for quite a while but somehow never got around to. Glad I finally did!

Promare has quite possibly the Worst oppression allegory I have ever seen. A bunch of people are discriminated against because they burned half the world and killed billions (with a B!) of people. Also it’s not actually anything inherent to them it’s a bunch of alien parasites that will destroy the planet. However, since this is basically just an excuse for robots to fight other robots on fire… I can’t say I really care in the end. Promare is ENTIRELY style over substance, and I mean that in the best way.

The plot is breakneck and stupid. Most of the characters barely register as such. The dialogue is so dumb. And it FUCKING RULES! I’ve seen the film described as “Anime the Anime” and that does kind of sum it up. Everything feels like a ten year old boy smashing his action figures together and you can’t help but get swept up in the enthusiasm.

Helped by the absolutely (excuse the pun) FIRE soundtrack. The energy almost never lets up, and on-the-nose engrish lyrics just add to the experience. Even if you don’t watch the movie holy heck listen to the soundtrack.

The characters may be paper-thing but holy hell are they fun to watch. Our protagonist, Galo, himbo extraordinaire is as ridiculous as he is somehow charming. You can’t help but admire his drive to help people. And his foil, the ironically icy Lio, here to set fires and fight for his rights. Aina, a nice, spunky girl set up as a love interest for about five minutes before it turns out her character has more of a story based around her relationship with her sister. Which is a nice change! In fact the only romance in the story arguably involves CPR for plausible deniability. And our hero remembers to open the airway thank heck. Though whether intentional or just ship tease who knows? And who cares. You can guess who the villain is about ten seconds after he shows up and he is as much a blast to watch as the rest.

And really, this is a movie with a secret robot used to save the day called the Deus X Machina. A movie that ends with two shirtless guys setting the Earth on fire to stop the Earth from being set on fire. It doesn’t take itself too seriously and really neither should you. Let it sweep you away for almost two hours and you will feel much better afterwards.

-

I started reading Nimona around the time it was wrapping up as a webcomic. I have a copy of the graphic novel on my shelf. I was excited when I heard the movie had been greenlit (less so when I heard it was Blue Sky Studios), disappointed by the cancellation and, well, I’m happy it’s here now. While I’ve gotten grouchier over the years, it does make me smile to see these guys on my television, even if they’re not quite the same people either.

Because the movie is very different, and yet much of it feels similar as well. Certain scenes, like the board game, are almost directly from the comic, others are from the comic but not quite the same. The characters are different, Ballister is less jaded, Ambrosius less delusional and Nimona less, well, monstrous. She seems to more beat the snot out of people than commit mass murder. In the comic she’s every bit the monster people fear her to be, though a sympathetic one, and perhaps one who will heal someday. While the ending of the movie is far happier, it fits the new tone. And honestly? I need to stop making comparisons and judge the damn movie on its own merits. Of which it has many!

Our setup is fairly simple, Ballister BlackBoldheart is a new knight of the realm, who immediately gets framed for the murder of the queen and disarmed (heh) by his boyfriend Ambrosius Goldenloin, while on the lam he is approached by a shapeshifter called Nimona who is up for a little mayhem and hijinks. Together they try and clear his name.

My fist fear when I heard Blue Sky studios would be the ones releasing the movie was that a lot of the humour would be Quite Bad. And while there definitely is plenty of that, I think more gags hit than miss. Hell the movie got quite a few laughs out of my dad and he’s a fair bit less likely to chuckle than I am. It is quite a funny movie, which is good because it helps the harsher moments hit harder. Because there are also plenty of those, especially in the final act.

Speaking of, the film is somewhat surprisingly well paced. Scenes tend not to overstay their welcome and the movie flows well. What else flows well? The animation! (My segways not so much) Everything is very smooth, which is rather necessary for all the shapeshifting, and there’s quite an interesting scene made to look as if subway tiles are telling the story of Nimona’s origins (ish).

And the main trio really are quite fun to watch. Ballister, always the underdog, now a public enemy and trying to both clear his name and perhaps open his mind a bit. Ambrosius, golden boy, trying to do the right thing and not always doing a great job. And, of course, Nimona, who’s just here to break shit, though it is quickly clear there’s more underneath, also a pretty blatant trans allegory.

The relationships Ballister has with both the other two are sweet as heck, but also riddled with mistrust that they all have to work to overcome.

And while the movie does get a little preachy at times, it’s a kid’s movie. What do you expect? Rah rah fight the power, all that jazz. I may be too jaded for it but it certainly works.

—

Would recommend checking out both or either if they sound like something you’d enjoy!

[tempestgnostic]

On Therianthropy

or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Label

As with all identity groups, the therian community has dealt with its fair share of misinformation, ignorance, and exclusivity throughout its storied history. For quite some time, I felt connected to the label—in that profound way when something just fits—yet, I wasn’t certain if I fit the bill. I had seen the common misconception that therians were limited to only “Earth animals.” There are many issues with this definition, and plenty of folks have gone over this already. This discussion between irritatedandroid and spiritus-sonne was one of the first posts I saw that gave me some background on this misconception, and it struck a chord with me.

As I began to look into it more, I kept finding challenges to what I thought I knew about therianthropy. Below is a snippet of the forum post that ultimately led me to identify with ‘therian’ as a werewolf rather than ‘otherkin.’

You can find the page right here if you’d like to check it out for yourself! The author is Lynna Landstreet/Lynx Canadensis at time of posting. (9/18/1999 on alt.horror.werewolves)

This might get a little lengthy, so here’s your courtesy readmore.

This word, ‘liminality,’ is everything that I am. Liminality, balance, breaking down false dichotomies—this is what it means for me to be a werewolf. As a quick disclaimer, there are almost certainly werewolves out there whose self-perception is similar to mine, but they use ‘otherkin’ instead. That’s completely fine! As who-is-page points out in this post, “While it’s important to understand the definitions of various labels for a variety of reasons, these labels are not the end-all be-all to what you can or cannot call yourself or identify yourself by.”

I’ve written previously about how my werewolf identity is deeply intertwined and ultimately inseparable from my queer identity and my experiences as an autistic person. I don’t just toe the line between person and animal—I practically live in the split tongue of therianthropy. I’ve made a home at the crossroads as an autistic, nonbinary butch who’s had top surgery and is on HRT, who rejects boxes and binaries like the plague.

I embrace the ways in which I challenge norms, call out injustice, ask “Why?” and “Why not?” of my society. It’s the reason I named myself Taliesin, after the influential Brittonic poet and bard. He lives on as a creative genius and master satirist, and—according to legend—a figure who can be invoked and channeled by poets who continue his legacy. I carry on the name of a trickster figure who connected with the universal creative spirit—the Awen—and aim to do the same myself whenever I create art of all kinds.

I see my own ‘purpose’ in life as self-defined, not fated, and I find strength in the fact that I can be part of an ever-shifting process of change. Above all, it is transformation—the divine lesson of The Werewolf—that lies at the heart of my therianthropy, and that’s pretty damn therian, isn’t it? The word resonates with me almost as much as my own name, and that’s enough for me.

I encourage all of us to consider how our language can help us understand each other, and how the hard-and-fast rules and restrictions proposed by even the most well-meaning folks can be counterintuitive. It’s not that any label can “just mean anything” — rather, labels can offer a general framework to describe and relate our experiences to others. A label should be the start of a sentence, not the period at the end.

I’ll close on my favorite part of Page’s post, linked above: “Identity is unique, it’s not something that can be charred well-done and then flipped into a tupperware container for tomorrow’s lunch.”

[writer-of-random-things]

Hmm okay so Tumblr-wise I'm supposed to be working on a analysis of a Crane Wives album right now, and I've been putting that off for months (I still haven't gotten past the first sentence). Life-wise...honestly I shouldn't even be on Tumblr considering the stuff I need to sort out. But. Here I am, and I am going to rant about Anais Mitchell--namely, the connections between the lyrics of her solo albums, and those of Hadestown.

The connections I'm about to make have no concrete evidence to back them, by the way; I'm just unhinged.

In her book Working on a Song, Anais Mitchell likens songwriting to gardening; that there are no 'right' or 'wrong' versions of a song, and that beautiful flowers may be discarded, but nonetheless they enrich the soil and bloom into something greater. There is no greater proof of this than her music. Let's look a few examples, shall we?

In Mitchell's first album The Brightness, she has a gorgeous track titled "Your Fonder Heart", in which she sings, "If I cannot take you for a liar or a lover / I'll take you for my brother in arms". In the off-broadway NYTW version of the song "If It's True", Orpheus says, "So I ask you as a brother / And I ask you as a friend / And I ask you as a lover / And I ask you once again / Is it true what they say?" Notwithstanding the similar word choices, both versions ring of an earnestness, and a sense of unity that is amplified in Hadestown's story.

Furthermore, Mitchell often describes the love between Orpheus and Eurydice in Hadestown as "cosmic". In fact, before "Wedding Song" was written, there was a less gritty (but very beautiful) song called "Everything Written", in which the Fates named several constellations, before Eurydice sings: "...When I look into the skies / I lose my head for scale and size / And still you're larger in my eyes / Than any star / You pull on me like gravity / I want to be where you are". The chorus and Orpheus' verse later on in the song echo the idea of inexplicable, cosmic love (this is reflected in the Broadway version, when the lovers lay on stage and stargaze during "All I've Ever Known"). But you know what else echoes cosmic love? "Bright Star", a track on Mitchell's latest solo album. Some lyrics include: "Bright Star / I have sailed in all directions / Have followed your reflection / to the farthest foreign shore" (sounds like Orpheus following Eurydice to the underworld, doesn't it?), and "There's a thought upon me dawning / You have touched a thousand longings / And I don't know who you are", which echoes Orpheus' "I knew you before we met / And I don't even know you yet" in "All I've Ever Known".

In addition, one of my favorite songs in The Brightness is "Old Fashioned Hat"; according to this thread, Mitchell said in an interview (the link is now broken, unfortunately) that the song was autobiographical, being about her husband and falling in love with him over and over again: "Sometimes you look at someone you know so well, and for a moment you don't even recognize them. It's exciting. I hope it happens our whole life". This is even more potent considering the lyrics in the song: "I have loved you for so long / Even when I could only do you wrong /...But you look like a stranger / In that old fashioned hat / And I got a pocketful of change / And I don't wanna go home yet / Clearly I remember when / I used to scratch my poems / On the backs of other lovers / In the darkness of my mind / Back before I made my home / In the marrow of your bones / Now I know your figure like my own / Even from behind". Compare this to Orpheus and Eurydice, who have known each other for centuries, as long as their tale has been told. Every time we sing it again, they meet for the first time, but they've also always loved each other. At the beginning and end of Hadestown, Orpheus and Eurydice look at each other. They know the other so well, and yet they don't recognize each other and thus fall in love all over again. If this doesn't match the lyrics of "Old Fashioned Hat", I don't know what does.

This next one is a bit more niche; in the Edmonton production of Hadestown , Mitchell wrote this line for Orpheus during "Doubt Comes In": "Eurydice / I can hear the birds / In the trees / And the laughter / Of our children on the wind". Mitchell explains, "I wept over it; it felt to me the most tragic thing to invoke these children, and this future, that would never come". In her album xoa, "Now You Know" feels achingly similar: "When I think about dying / I think about children / And when I think about children / I think about you / And when I think about you / I feel like crying / Crying for my youth". Similarly, the next stanza is "And when I think of my youth / I think of my freedom / And when I think of my freedom / I feel so alone / And when I feel lonely / I want you to hold me / Hold me in your arms", which parallels Eurydice's first verse in "All I've Ever Known": "I was alone so long / I didn't even know that I was lonely /... All I've ever known is how to hold my own / But now I want to hold you, too". And these are only the connections between the lyrics. "Now You Know" is a song made out of a train of thought. As a result, the structure of the song adapts a circular logic, similar to how "Why We Build the Wall" from Hadestown is written.

One more! I know I said earlier that the connections would be between Hadestown and Mitchell's solo albums only, but I *had* to include this. I'm not going to add much commentary here. Just take the last lyrics of "All I've Ever Known", when Orpheus sings, "I'm gonna hold you forever / the wind will never change on us / As long as we stay with each other / Then we will always be like this". Okay, you got that? Then compare it to "When I Was Younger", a song by Bonny Light Horseman (Mitchell's folk band): "When I was younger / I told you I loved ya / When I was younger I said things like that / Said I would hold you and love you forever / Love you and never look back".

("Love you and never look back" was the line that made me absolutely feral when I compared it to Orpheus and Eurydice, in case anyone was wondering).

So. That was that. I highly recommend you listen to Anais Mitchell's solo albums, read Working on a Song, and watch this beautiful documentary if you want to learn more.

TLDR; I have Hadestown brainrot. Also Anais Mitchell is a lyrical genius and her advice about recycling lyrics and treating writing like "gardening" is not only wise, but can be seen through her own songs, Hadestown and otherwise. I also apologize for referencing "All I've Ever Known" ten million times, I promise it wasn't intentional.

@still-july @activatebutterflyshield I was going to keep this to myself until I thought "Y'know the only two people who might like this post? Great gotta make it for them" so here I am.

[activatebutterflyshield]

Time to be long-winded about music again featuring the Four Winds albums by the Oh Hellos. I desperately hope this one will be shorter given how bloody long the thing about Coyote Stories ended up being so to somewhat ensure that this will be split up into four separate posts, one for each album. I’m going in chronological order of release. Come one, come all, but especially @writer-of-random-things, to see me put more effort into tumblr posts than my english essays.

Part 1: Notos (you are here!)

Part 2: Eurus

Part 3: Boreas

Part 4: Zephyrus

Before even getting into the songs, let’s look at the album art. A cicada, the hallmark of summer, buzzing in chorus for a few days before dying. They are a horde, second only to their cousins the bees, wasps, and locusts, but a horde nonetheless. The cicada blindly sits underground for most of its life, growing in solitude and waiting for its cue to escape to the sunlit world, mate, and die. A cicada does not question it’s place in the universe. A cicada harbors no thoughts of doubt in its mission, and holds no grudge when it dies under the sky. But humans are not cicadas.

The first song of the album is “On the Mountain Tall”, a relatively quiet start. It’s very biblical in its symbolism and imagery, but perhaps the most important lines are when the singer calls out, “Still the wild wind blows / Up our of the grave of an angry ghost / Firing bricks from broken canon and prose / To build a wall so high it reaches the heavens in the sky”. The spelling of “canon” is not that of the instrument of warfare on the high seas, but that of generally accepted truth when it comes to creative works, as well as religions. But it is used to describe an action much more befitting the weapon, as the “wild wind” is “Firing bricks from broken canon and prose”, a metaphor for using hypocritical or untrue logic and facts to defend itself. Whomever the singer is singing to, they want the singer to fear them and love them in equal measure, but the singer doesn’t. This nebulous thing is described as being “Quiet as a candle and bright as the / morning sun”, not unlike some angelic thing from on high, and yet whoever they are, they are not “He”, who is “not within them, the clatter of / brass and drums”.

“Torches” soon follows, a quicker paced tune of a back-and-forth between two singers. Each alludes to the other, “Father Ignorance” and “Mother Fortuna”, matching up with the leading male and female vocals. Both figures are referred to by the others as making either “Brothers of us all” or “Sisters of us all” through their actions, though neither seem to be very virtuous people. “Father Ignorance” seems to feed people’s anger and fear, setting “our torch aflame” and burning someone at the stake, no matter their innocence. “Mother Fortuna” turns “shadows into shapes”, stoking paranoia and encouraging violence despite the fact that “the faces in her wake / Look more like our own than the / effigies we immolate”. Neither singer seems to be the one from “On the Mountain Tall”, as the previous song was about someone resisting the carrots and sticks offered by someone quite similar to both Ignorance and Fortuna. And yet these two beings still have power, as they sing together, “We keep that old wheel turning / Over and over, again”, maintaining the endless cycle of fear, paranoia, anger, and destruction.

The next song is an instrumental interlude, “Planetarium Stickers on a Bedroom Ceiling”. It’s a gentle tune that slowly builds into the next song, “Constellations”, but the name alone indicates that whatever stars exist far above are not real things, but rather facsimiles. Pretty things, sure, but nothing like the real, burning, blazing balls of gas that dot the night sky.

“Constellations” begins slowly, as the singer describes the sensation of speaking something that takes their voice away and feels upon their tongue like “Brick and mortar, thick as scripture / Drawing lines in the sand and laying / borders as tall as towers / I babble on until my voice is gone”. The clear and more cloudy references to the Tower of Babel and the Empire of Babylon show how the singer has been confounded and confused by that thick and choking scripture. Everything good in their life, everything good done by them and to them are “like constellations, a million years away”, no more real than those “Planetarium Stickers on a Bedroom Ceiling”. What few pieces of joy they have are no more real than the lines drawn to create “Constellations”. But by the end of the song, those good stars are “imploding in the night / Everything is turning, everything is turning / The shapes that you drew may change beneath a different light / Everything you thought you knew / Will fall apart, but you’ll be alright”. The singer has realized how much they have been smothered by thick scripture, how little they know about the world, how much they want to be free, and how they have been denied their freedom by the world they grew up with, by Father Ignorance and Mother Fortuna.

The titular “Notos” is next, starting with the singer describing the world in the moments before the clouds break and a storm crashes down. The world is holding its breath, waiting for “A thunderous disturbance”, the inevitable response to what the singer has done to those “Planetarium Stickers on a Bedroom Ceiling”. But whatever the world is expecting is not what happens, as the rush that comes “will take you away / Like you’re caught in the undertow / And you will drown in the wake / Of the things you lost to the winds of Notos”. Everything the singer has lost to the thick scripture, all that the spent in hopes that the “Constellations” of good intentions would become real, is now being repaid tenfold over. Their realization is as strong as a hurricane, as untamable as the sea, and more furious than a thunderstorm in this moment. They’re drowning Fortuna and Ignorance in “the wake / Of the things you said that you can’t take back”. It’s a beautifully poetic description of the pure, flaming anger felt by someone in the moment they realized their betrayal, but as the final line of the song says, “You gotta let go”.

The second instrumental interlude of the album is “Mandatory Evac / Counting Cars”. Finishing the wordless cry that began in “Notos”, the song is a slow, gradual build up from gentle guitar strums to the beautiful melody that has haunted the background of the rest of the album, a promising echo that reminds the listener that they’ve come quite far since the beginning of this 20-minute journey, and that they’ve still got plenty of road left to travel.

The final song of Notos is “New River”. The singer’s tune is one of gradual change, of how “though the eons may pass as slow as the sands of an hour glass / Every grain that we’ve counted / Claims that even the mountains can change”. This promise that even the most permanent parts of the landscape can slowly but surely change, that the very land itself can bend to the power of a “New River”, is a powerful metaphor for the prospective journey of the singer. They yearn to carve out a new path, to rise with the tide and bask in the “rain for forty days and nights”, to embrace the change so abhorred by the “Planetarium Stickers on a Bedroom Ceiling”, to erode away where they had once stood “On the Mountain Tall”, to extinguish the “Torches” and prove the “Constellations” to be naught but lines drawn in the sky. Within this wind of “Notos” will they rise and remake themselves anew, casting off the thick scripture and ignoring the roaring fire and wind. The fiery Southern Wind of Summer has risen and raged, tearing apart the walls of “broken canon and prose”, and as stormy Notos leaves, Eurus of Autumn and the Eastern Wind will blow in from the horizon where the sun rises, bringing cooler times and heralding yet more change as migrations begin and more questions are asked.

[runningfromevil-mp3]

On the matter of DGHDA season 2 and childhood as a theme, I think we should analyse the story of The Boy through the lense of Maladaptive Daydreaming more often. And I have thoughts about it. This is a long read, so bear with me.

Bias note: I'm an immersive daydreamer and the ending of Season 2 got to me in a way I couldn't describe. And this is a personal piece on the matter.

As the linked post mentioned, there's a lot of links between childhood and Wendimoor itself; from the fight between the families, to the train in the sky, to how they all fight with scissors. And while The Boy has godlike powers, I want to suggest that this comparison is fairly apt. For some people with this, it can feel like you're in control of everything -- it can also feel like you control nothing in your daydreams. And the show reflects both of these realities. When The Boy is away from the world he created, it starts to fall into chaos. While the script says that good will always win, I think the way they cross into our world holds two functions: firstly, it shows how this is something he can no longer control and, as I personally believe, it draws a comparison to when one is pulled out of a daydream. And the condition can act in an intrusive way. A song, a sound, an idea, anything can be a daydream trigger and pull you into hours of daydreams. And honestly? A traumatic event creating a whole universe feels very close to the experience.

Many people with MaDD will share stories on how it interferes with their daily life (and that is in fact part of the suggested diagnosis criteria), so the reversal of these two roles show the same function, that paracosms essentially always exist in some capacity and interfere with life. Each character has their own ways of dealing with denial, escapism and fantasy in the season. Even The Witch, despite being the antagonist, uses escapism to run away from her life. This shows how running away can have negative outcomes, sure, but I took it as a warning on letting your fantasies lead your life in a way that can be destructive. The type of survival is maladaptive, it causes some kind of harm in a way (socially, through work, whatever have you), which leads to another question.

Why is The Boy returning seen as a good thing if the whole ordeal is maladaptive? And I have a few answers to this. The obvious one is its bittersweet and must happen to return balance as the text demands us to believe. After all, this is all fantasy and he is a person with god-like powers that could cause more disturbances. But I offer a reading of hope too: the balance between what you imagine and real life is essential. Consider the fact that Wendimoor is a real place and there are generations of people who live there. Yes, the powers went unchecked and it was The Boy's goal to escape to a new reality, but even Dirk points out that these are real people now. Even if they were made from the mind of another being, they have their own autonomy... to a degree. He's still in charge at the end of the day, and must be to have peace last. But the fact they are real and this world is now real suggests that a balance has been found between reality and escapism. Another reading similar to this could be healing. Spending time there forces his traumas into a more metaphorical space and allows him to explore his feelings and unpack it. The families truce, the Witch is sent away, and he can start processing this. Because, at the end of the day, MaDD seems to be trauma formed, based on a lot of the community's own posts. My final answer is, it isn't a good ending. The Boy still has these powers he cannot control and yet it is treated as a positive. It shows a return to coping that is not healthy but it is the only way to keep these powers contained. I don't believe that is the intended reading, however, because The Witch being sent away needs to act as a foil to this plot point.

Aside from this, we should note that people with MaDD may have multiple paracosms (to simplify, a fancy way of saying a daydream world) but we only see one here. I fall into the group that only has one as well. But people with MaDD make references to their fictparas, primparas (meaning "belongs in a paracosm" and a prefix to show where they are sourced from, such as "OCs" or fictional characters) having their own lives. Sometimes, we just observe them. Sometimes we are active participants like we see here. There's even a term called veritbond which means either a character who is aware of their own selfhood, or is extremely important to the person daydreaming in some way. Individuals like Panto and The Mage strike me as this type of daydream character. And this makes sense! A lot of the characters we create (or steal from fiction) exist to explore difficult topics we may have faced ourselves. It gives us a wrap of fiction to understand what we experienced. These characters-made-real then deciding their own fate outside of the will of The Boy feels similar to how we develop. There is always the safety net that The Boy can undo all of of this, something that is not true for everyone with this, but they still have freedom of choice despite that fact.

At the end of the day, The Boy being returned, to me, seems like a hopeful end that aims towards healing as a conclusion to the plot. It's something he returns to but it's balanced with a new reality. The escapism ends because he has escaped from everything that harmed him. This is his new reality. It feels like he has come to terms with it but this is something that will always exist. It's the perfect balance of healing from trauma and using fantasy to understand it. And that's why the ending meant so much to me. For all the issues the season has with pacing, how connected everything actually feels, this ending feels optimistic. Things feel sporadic because we are dealing with the universe threading reality and fiction together. And that is... oddly relatable? Things are still happening in the background. They will continue to. If I had any notes, I think I would say we should read this as The Boy being more of an omniscient presence that knows more than anybody else does. When you're an immersive daydreamer or a person with MaDD, finding the balance between daydreams and reality is difficult. And that feels more real than anyone could know.