#i thought magnum opus was a transformer

[spacexriri]

okay so i literally *just* came to the realisation that i thought “The Sopranos” and “Falsettos” were the same thing. and i’ve never watched either but i really saw y’all talking about falsettos and thought you were shipping mafia guys. and i really didn’t put it past y’all because that’s just the type of shit i expect to see on tumblr anyway

[pastelwoolfie]

would anyone be interested in my earthspark au with my ocs (please say yes) i have many thoughts and plots surrounding them (please be interested) (it’s my magnum opus) (did i use that phrase right??)

it’s all about optiratch arguments and bumblebee whump and megatron being the most vile, diabolical motherfucker known to mankind and also knockout is there.

i made refs for all the ocs and the transformers pls pls pls ask me questions abt themm

[pulsar-the-northstar]

Grief as concept in The Gazette's 'Dark Age' - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

The last three songs from Dark Age represent the fifth stage of the Kübler-Ross and Wright model—acceptance, or as Wright puts it, “the upward turn". This is apparent in the pace and melody of the songs: they revisit previously introduced themes and keywords, but with altered emphasis and arrangement, sometimes changing their significance.

DEUX already starts with a very powerful opening line: 答えは絶望の淵で 不可逆 夢落ち願う, "the answer is irreversibly in the abyss of despair, I wish this were just a bad dream". Grief has entered the "consolidation" phase, and everything that seemed uncontrollable (death) slowly gives way to controlled remembrance. The intensity of physical and mental symptoms of grief decreases, yet an unforeseen circumstance or trigger can still draw the mourner back into emotions they thought they had already dealt with.

This is exactly what happens to the narrator of DEUX: although they would like to wake up from the dream of their life burdened with loss into a happy reality, the opposite happens: they dream of the deceased, then wake up from it (You're my enemy / 逆夢喰らい示す, "you're my enemy / as you tantalize with false dreams"). The lyrics here include the word 逆夢 (sakayume), translated as “reverse dream”, appears in our culture: it's a folk belief that dreaming of someone's death means they will live a long life.

Therefore, the person who appears living in the reversed dream is dead in reality and does not let the living person rest (寡黙と眠る夜が怖いのは誰の所為？, "whose fault is it that the silent night and sleep are frightening?"), the mourner endeavors to navigate through the altered circumstances (行き場断たれ迷い 自我境界破れて 心が壊れてしまった, "I've lost my way, the boundaries of my personality have been torn apart, my heart is broken"), and there is a faint, cautious desire for the shared past to continue in a transformed shared future (君と僕は 底無しの闇に朽ちる - "you and I rot in bottomless darkness", 後は踏み出すだけ/ もう迷わない – "there's nothing left, I have to take a step forward / I can't hesitate anymore").

The second to last song, the slow, the slow, nearly lullaby-esque OMINOUS, reintroduces the notion familiar from DEUX, the "reverse dream": the mourner seeks to drift back into slumber ("Sleep...Count me down...Again") to meet the person they lost (さぁ目を閉じて/ 向かおう – "and (as) I close my eyes / I turn towards you"). However, the deceased person in the dream is restless, struggling with nightmares (悪夢と舞う君を見る – "I see you dancing with nightmares"), and n this instance, it's the mourner attempting to soothe the deceased (忘れないで / 心は死なない / 忘れないで / そう 夢は逆夢, "don't forget / the heart is immortal / don't forget / dreams sometimes lie"), almost implying: don't worry about me, your nightmares about me are not real, I will be fine now, rest peacefully.

The conversation with the departed and their reassurance that life can evolve in a different manner isn't yet tangible reality; it's more of a self-encouragement. The pain and loneliness caused by grief are still part of the present, the constant change—the constant cycle of life and death (流転, ruten)—is conceivable to the mind but not to the heart. The last verse beautifully expresses the pain that, despite the realization, remains in the survivor's soul like a constant, dull presence: 形無き明日を奪う 踏み出す度 / 翳る空で何も見ない / 悲しみに自分を殺し叫ぶ声は / 何も救えない – "every time I take a step forward (to the constant change) it steals the formless tomorrow / I see nothing in the dark sky / I kill myself with loneliness and shout in sadness / but no one can save me".

The final song of Dark Age, also its magnum opus, UNDYING, begins with the same themes with which OMINOUS ended: loneliness, insomnia, and hopelessness ("Sleep, count me down, again / I won't arise from this", 残された唯一 禍いと廻る未来 – "the only thing left, spreading misfortune"). However, as much as it seems like grief has pushed the mourner back to square one, and everything starts anew, the use of the term "Undying" already show signs of a later stage of oscillation. The apparent setbacks or emotions re-emerging due to external influences, as painful as they may be, are just as natural. In the final moments of wakefulness, the mourner seeks the building blocks of their new identity ("不透明な事実指し 何を信じ 何願う – "pointing to uncertain facts, what can I believe, what can I hope for?"), when the dream weighs upon their eyes, and in the countdown, all essential conflicts of grief appear:

After confronting each of the thoughts that appear one after another or simultaneously in the grieving process, each reinforced by the other, in a continuous feedback loop, the mourner remembers the refrain of DOGMA ("I deny all of it"), then the refrain of OMINOUS, but in a new context: “Sleep, count me down 死と踊り” ("dancing with death") / “Count me down, again さぁ終われ” ("come on, let's finish this"), and poses the question: "Have I changed?" (俺は変われたか？)

Indeed, something has changed as the experience of loss has become part of the identity, and this consolidation is reflected in the final lines of the lyrics: 終わりを見ても / 許されぬ願いに夢を見た / この眼は今もまだ / 今もまだ, "even if I see the end / I dreamed of unforgivable hopes / and these eyes still see / even now." The unforgivable desires (wishes, prayers) peak in the two English lines of the song: "Life, don’t change my fate / God, entomb my hate", and despite how ominous these words may seem, they still inspire hope.

The concept of fate in regard of grief was introduced by INCUBUS. The desire for life not to overshadow our destiny —shaped by the life of the departed, their absence, and their continued existence within us —describes the state where the bond with the deceased is redefined. Their absence has become part of life, thus forming a kind of constant, eternal, unchangeable (undying?) presence.

Our second plea to God (with whom our relationship throughout Dark Age has been turbulent, as we've only clashed with him) is a prayer seeking the divine to lay to rest our "hate" (our anger), allowing us to bury all negative emotions aimed at others and ourselves, emotions that only tear down rather than construct. These lines express the yearning for rebuilding, hope, and ultimately, the acceptance of reality.

Final thoughts

It doesn't necessarily imply from the above that grief, as both an event in life and a personal encounter, has been fully dealt with, despite the melodies and lyrics of the subsequent albums, NINTH and MASS, signifying a more positive phase.

What I consider crucial to emphasize, not strictly tied to the examination of Dark Age, is directly linked to the positive phase of grief, known as the consolidation phase: while losses cannot be reversed, one can shape a self-image, a narrative that incorporates the loss into the mourner's identity.

There isn't a definitive "right" or "wrong" way to grieve – grief, as mentioned earlier, is a natural, almost instinctive reaction we have to loss. The mourner inherently understands their needs: whether it's solitude and seclusion, or perhaps companionship, community. Perhaps the only "incorrect" approach to grieving is when the oscillacion process is impeded: if the person who suffered the loss remains fixated solely on it’s negative effects (unable to let go of the deceased and the mourning state, becoming engulfed, unwilling to feel anything but sorrow), or exclusively focuses on restoration (organizing their life, forcefully moving forward, rejecting the memory of the deceased and their connection, merely striving to feel "fine" again).

The compositions of Dark Age can be aligned with both the phased, gradual grief theories and the dual-process model. As dark and distressing as they might seem, these songs actually demonstrate a healthy, evolving grief that eventually leads us out of the darkness.

I trust that those who listen to the melodies of Shikkoku discover solace within them and uncover the concealed, encrypted message: that before dawn, the darkest hour arrives, but from these bleak times (Dark Age), the hope we have lost returns (Blinding Hope, Last Song) and eventually guides us back to the light ("Come back to the light").

Disclaimer

I want to emphasize that I am not an expert in the field of grief, nor am I a therapist or a certified grief counselor (at least not yet). This analysis serves as an overview of how The Gazette's Dogma-era represents grief, and its purpose is to hopefully provide solace to readers by offering support and reassurance that whatever emotions they may be experiencing are entirely normal. It's important to note that the original essay was written in my native language, and while I've used machine translation and AI correction to translate it as close to the original as I can, my proficiency in English may not be perfect (far far away from perfect). If you're interested, I can provide a link to the original essay on my private blog.

Any suggestions, corrections, comments are welcome.

[shiroselia]

Guess who completely missed I've been posting on Ao3 for over a year now, so to celebrate that almost two weeks later, behold! Self-promo!

I know, I know, but I suppose since I've been going for a year(???) now I might as well give a little Summary on what the hell I've been doing over on the Ao3, and also have a bit of fun with it in the process.

So, who the hell am I? I'm Manda Shiroselia EquestrianEquivalent, and apparently I'm an Ao3 publisher now. Sentence I never thought I'd say, but here we are!

What do I write? Well, primarily I write for Fire Emblem, Honkai Star Rail, and Star Stable Online. More precisely, I'm a character dynamics connossieur, which means I'm mostly writing character interaction and/or ship-focused fics because that's what I find the most fun! I generally average about 3-5k on my oneshots, but there are shorter (and longer) ones, so if length is something you're particularly picky about, you'll have variety in there, promise.

My personal favourite choices of the Fire Emblem variety are, coincidentally, my two most recent Fire Emblem fics! Soft Pegasus Feathers, and Dream of Me.

Good stuff, fun times, huge self-reccs of mine.

In terms of HSR, well, I've written. a lot of those, but I'm particularly, well, well-known might be a stretch, but those of you who subscribe to JingFu might recognize me for my most popular fic, Better Luck Next Time, or for my newest piece of insanity, KONTORSRENOVERING.

Better Luck Next Time is probably the best introduction to my writing style you will ever find, especially since it's kind of responsible for me finding my style, and it's also incredibly funny, if I do say so myself.

KONTORSRENOVERING is a great introduction to my particular niche, which I like to describe as "It could've been a fanart, but I'm glad it's a fic." If you read it you'll know exactly what i mean by that! Both of them are fics I hold very near and dear, so obviously I recommend each of them in particular.

And as for what I write for SSO? Well. I don't know if you have ever sorted that tag by word count, but if you have, you might have come across a certain little fic called A Quintessential Jorvegian Summer Vacation.

Which is, well, a lot of things. It's the entire reason I started publishing on Ao3 to begin with, my life's work pretty much, arguably my magnum opus really, and the entire reason my friends both discovered and has since never let me live down how fucking nuts I am.

It is the most taxing out of all my works, since, you know, check that chapter count:word count and you'll understand. I'm currently in the middle of reposting the last 4 chapters, because yes I've rewritten every single one of the first 24 chapters and counting, and once that is done, I'm going to rewrite the entire fic. Which is really just a first draft into a second draft, but considering how much I've changed as a writer throughout the 10 months I wrote this behemoth of a fic (first draft clocked in at 280k words so you can imagine how much effort this fucker took), it needs some maintainance.

With that being said, even if you don't know what the fuck a Star Stable Online is, I genuinely suggest you check this out anyways, because I legitimately think it works really well as just a standalone horse adventure magic fantasy. And a tragedy. Apparently. Supposedly. According to my friends who know too much about this fic.

It's going to take a fuck ass while to publish this entire thing, and I talk about it all the time on this blog, but there is so much love put into this fic, and I'm not abandoning it ever, it will be published, mark my word.

So that's essentially a "quick" summary of what the fuck I'm doing over there at the Ao3s. This mentioned like half of the roster, so there are a few more things over there if you're curious. And there's more to come, like a lot more to come.

For example, I'm currently working on two longer HSR fics, one starring Himeko and Pom-Pom, and the other starring Jiaoqiu featuring Bailu and Lingsha. I've also gotten way too into Zenless Zone Zero, and I'm definitely going to write a few fics for that, so far every one of them featuring Nicole. Other than that I have a lot of silly Fire Emblem ideas lying about (most of them related to Awakening, which means more Chromia in particular), and I'm no stranger to just throwing out a fic for the hell of it, so you might even be surprised!

And with that, Manda out, and happy late Ao3 anniversary to me <3

[musical-chan]

What's This? Another Masterpost?

Hello! You can call me Music-chan or MrsMusica or just straight up Music if you like. I'm a musician and a writer and currently I am very much into the Legend of Zelda fandom.

While you're here, why don't you check out my current magnum opus:

Father of Time

In an alternate universe, the Fierce Deity is freed from his mask and adopts a young Link. This is updated about every 4 days! And don't forget to check out the winter holiday I created to use in the OOT/MM era, Starfall Wishes! It's set around chapter 5 of my Deity fic.

See below for links to other fanfics I've finished!

Linked Universe Fics

Defeat or Deity: The Chain fights something they're not sure they can win against and Time uses the Fierce Deity mask. But maybe the deity does not want to let go. Well, Sky isn't going to stand for that.

Puzzles: Maybe Warriors was missing out on the Hero of Courage experience by never having done a dungeon or a temple. Maybe he's about to find out what it's like.

The Unbearable Weight of Three Days: It was three days, over and over and over again. But it was over, right? He would never have to do it again.

You Want to Talk to Link, Right?: The Hero of Time used to play a song to talk to his friend, Saria. What if he also had a song?

Hey Link!: What is a man to do when travelling with 8 people with the same name?

The Inn at the End of Time: He has met a terrible fate

And Time Again & A Moment of Time, a Deep Blue Sky: Two follow up stories to a non-LU fic I did about the Hero of Time

So You Want To Be A Hero: An introspective Hyrule-centric fic

You Don't Have to Feel Safe to Feel Unafraid: A gift fic I did for a creator Discord server I'm on! It's basically crack idea, treated seriously. MM Link and BotW Link trade places.

A Wild Time at Calamity Ganon: This was an unprompted gift fic for an artist on tumblr I really enjoy! The young Hero of Time finds himself in a ruined castle and look! It's yet another Link! More crack for sure.

Other Zelda Fics

Too Much Healing, Rauru: A TotK fic and my first one on AO3! Link finds himself in a cave with a mysterious voice in his head again. Maybe there were a few extra things in his head as well.

Time and Time Again: Link has made it to the Temple of Time and he's going to save Hyrule from Ganondorf! Or will he? (This has two LU fics to go along with it)

The Silent Realm: What did the Hero of the Skies think of the Silent Realm?

A Wonderful Dream: Was it all just a dream? Set in Link's Awakening

Remainder of the Sky: Skyloft is falling and Link has many thoughts. This one is so beautiful and I love it.

[darkvioletcloud]

Happy Pride Month! I thought it would be a good time to ask for personal headcanons about Nosramus, LGBTQ+-related or general are both fine. I think the alchemist is pretty neat.

Happy Pride Month to you too! 💜

They're just general headcanons, but I headcanon Nosramus as originally being female and always having a bit of an androgynous edge to her. I like the idea of her being a gal because the first game doesn't have too many ladies, and I like the idea of a mysterious alchemist lady.

Through her studies of alchemy, she used her own body to create her magnum opus, the Rebis, and has both sets of sex characteristics, fully complete and functional.

The Creation of Life studies are related to her studies into the Rebis and the alchemical magnum opus. They probably would've come before the complete transformation.

I should draw Nosramus. I really love drawing long, flowing hair, and her Rapunzel-y white-gold hair would be so fun to do!

Sexuality and gender-wise, I can see Nosramus having an unspecified preference in partners of any sex or gender. She'd also not have a concrete view of her own gender, being fine with those seeing her as a man, woman, both, or neither. A very fluid and ambiguous sense of self-identity, I suppose. Her sexuality is "sure why not" and her gender is "cool wizard :)".

Which is kinda related to how I view my own sexuality and gender, but that's a topic for another time.

Anyway I'm also gonna plug a video I made on Marriages because it's related to this discussion. blease subscrub and ring dat bell uwu i love making videos

[xoxiu]

my house of stone, your ivy grows - yoongi x reader

chapter seventeen table of contents masterlist join the taglist discord

summary: yoongi carried himself with a sense of pride within himself and his belongings. he worked hard to get to where he was- ethically or not, it made him the man he is today. his latest toy, a young college girl from america, will become his magnum opus. he just needs to work out the kinks.

tags/warnings: mafia au, kidnapping, daddy dom!yoongi, smut, autistic!reader, spanking, stockholm syndrome, little!jimin, vminhope, drug mention, namjin, fluff, domestic discipline

taglist: @allamericanuniverse @llallaaa, @frieschan

The living room had been magically transformed into a large pillow fort by noon. Extra white bedsheets hung from the backs of chairs and couches, enclosing the homemade blanket nest on the floor. To make things even more magical, Seokjin added string lights to the mix, which twinkled brightly once the curtains were closed. Inside the fort sat Jimin, Kiwo, Jungkook, and Taehyung, all four eating their lunch while watching Doraemon. 

It had been a chaotic morning- Kiwo and Jimin were purposely bothering and annoying each other, as well as the others with their near-constant whining and crying. Once 11 am hit, everyone agreed that the two littles would need a nap to survive the rest of the day. 

The pillow fort, however, had been Taehyung’s idea.

“Okay, it’s nap time now.” Hoseok entered the fort to retrieve the empty dishes, smiling at the sight of the youngest four curled up in their pile of blankets. Jimin and Kiwo lay the furthest apart, with Jungkook right next to Kiwo and Taehyung next to Jimin. Taehyung and Jimin were already fast asleep, and Kiwo could barely keep her eyes open, only motivated to stay awake by the cartoon. 

“Kookie, are you taking a nap too?” Hoseok chuckled slightly- Jungkook rarely ever did things with the littles, but would always oblige the two in their activities. 

“No, I’m going to get up after this episode.”

”Okay. Just turn the channel after so Kiwo will fall asleep.”

A small groan came from Kiwo at the mention of turning off her show. She wasn’t even tired, she thought, fighting to keep her eyes open. 

Keeping to his word, Jungkook moved to leave the pillow fort once the credits began to roll. He reached onto the couch for the remote and changed the channel. 

The news showed a scene from a river excavation- a body had been discovered in the Han River. Jungkook watched silently as more details were revealed. 

“The body is beyond unrecognizable, but with the belongings and clothes it was found with police believe the body to belong to missing college student Kiwo Louise-”

Jungkook looked over at Kiwo, completely alive and well, and currently asleep. 

“Kiwo,” Jungkook shook the girl gently. She hummed in response, her eyes still closed but still listening. 

“I was just curious about something…” Jungkook started, unsure of where to begin. He took a moment before continuing. “Do you… like it here?”

”Mm. ‘m used to it.” Kiwo mumbled out, not entirely conscious and aware of the question.

Jungkook thought about what she said for a moment. Kiwo being used to the situation is not the same thing as her liking it. They had simply just grown on her. 

“Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah…” Kiwo had no hesitation in her voice as she quickly responded. She muttered something else after, but Jungkook couldn’t exactly comprehend what she had said. He was too taken aback by the sudden pit in his stomach. 

Kiwo wanted to leave. She didn’t want to be there. And in Jungkook’s mind, it was all his fault. He was the reason why Kiwo’s world had completely changed, and the reason why she is suffering. She had family and friends back in America, who now all believe she had died while abroad. Jungkook had facilitated that, too. 

Finding another American girl that looked like Kiwo was easy- so was taking out her teeth and burning her fingerprints. The Han River’s waters had decomposed her body to hell, eliminating any defining features the other girl had. Throwing Kiwo’s belongings in with the body was the only identifying evidence. 

Jungkook stood up and turned off the television. 

[glitterp0prhaps0dy]

Rocking Makeover

Floyd, Rebel, and Barb were sprawled out in their shared bedroom, each engaged in their own slice of downtime. Floyd, his interest piqued by a glossy spread of magazines before him, flipped through pages until he landed on a vibrant fashion section. It showcased the bold, distinctive style of the Rock Trolls—a style he found himself increasingly drawn to. Glancing up, he caught his reflection in the mirror and imagined how he might look donning such edgy attire. He could see it—this was a style that resonated with him, a style he felt could truly express who he was.

His daydream was abruptly cut short as Rebel and Barb stirred to their feet. "I've got to take Barb to a doctor's appointment," Rebel announced, her tone practical yet gentle. "Carol and Riff will be over soon, so you won't be alone... bye!" And just like that, they were gone, their departure swift, leaving Floyd alone with a burgeoning idea.

Alone with his thoughts, Floyd's gaze drifted back to the mirror, then to the fashion pages sprawled out before him. A plan began to form, crystallizing with each passing second. He knew exactly what he needed to do to make this vision a reality—he would enlist Carol and Riff's help for a bold, rock-inspired makeover. The thought alone sparked a surge of excitement; it was time for a change, and who better to guide him through this transformation than his extremely weird friends?

The dynamic duo, Carol and Riff, made their grand entrance into the house roughly thirty minutes later, sauntering in with an air of casual ownership that seemed to declare the space theirs. They halted in their tracks, however, at the sight that greeted them: Floyd, positioned strategically in front of the door, his eyes alight with anticipation and a fashion magazine clutched in his hands. "Please... make me look cool," he implored, his voice tinged with earnest hope.

Carol's response was instant and overflowing with unrestrained excitement. "Oh, sparkly unicorn tails, YES! I've been waiting for the day I could unleash my fashion genius on an unsuspecting soul! Floyd, darling, you're about to become my masterpiece, my magnum opus in the world of rock fashion!" she exclaimed, practically vibrating with enthusiasm.

Riff, not to be outdone in the department of dramatic declarations, added his own peculiar twist. "I had 'setting the market on fire' penciled into my calendar for today, but hey, if little dude wants a makeover, consider the market's fiery fate postponed until tomorrow," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Wait, what-" Floyd's response was a mixture of alarm and confusion, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to decipher whether Riff's plans were literal or just another eccentric quip.

Carol dashed out of the house in a manner reminiscent of a cartoon character, her movements exaggerated and playful. Moments later, she returned, lugging a briefcase adorned with an assortment of stickers depicting skulls and guitars — one sticker, rather incongruously, featured a bong.

With an evil smile stretching across her face, Carol cackled like a witch as she flung open the briefcase, revealing its contents:

- A plethora of hair supplies, from hair gel to hair dye in every color of the rainbow.

- An array of makeup, including vibrant eyeshadows, bold lipsticks, and shimmering highlighters.

- A collection of accessories, ranging from studded belts to chunky bracelets and everything in between.

Riff procured a hairdressing cape from the depths of the briefcase, gently draping it around Floyd's shoulders. "Alright, little dude, we're kicking things off with your hair," Riff announced with a reassuring tone. "No worries, okay? This isn't our first rodeo with hair styling," he added, aiming to ease any of Floyd's potential nerves.

However, any attempt at reassurance was quickly undercut by Carol, who, brandishing an oversized pair of scissors, began snapping them open and closed with an unsettling enthusiasm. Her cackle filled the room as she playfully boasted, "Just imagine, Floyd, a single snip could transform you—or utterly ruin you! But where's the fun without a little risk, right? Let's see if we can't carve out a masterpiece on that canvas of yours." Her eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly enjoying the theatrical drama of the moment a bit too much for Floyd's comfort.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Barb and Rebel found themselves in the sterile ambiance of the hospital waiting room. Barb, unable to sit still, swung her legs back and forth, while Rebel was absorbed in jotting down thoughts in her journal. The monotonous lobby music droned on, doing little to ease the tedium. In a bid to break the silence, Barb began to hum a tune, her boredom evident. She glanced at Rebel and mused, "What do you reckon Riff, Floyd, and Carol are up to back at the house?" Without looking up from her journal, Rebel dryly responded, "Knowing them, something reckless."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, back at the house, chaos reigned. "FOR THE LOVE OF—CAROL, WE ARE NOT USING A CHAINSAW TO STYLE HIS HAIR!" Riff's voice thundered through the living room as Floyd let out a shriek of pure terror. Carol, though visibly disappointed by the veto of her chainsaw idea, couldn't help but erupt into fits of laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

Riff deftly removed the chainsaw from Carol's grasp, setting it atop a shelf well beyond her reach, much to her vocal dismay. He then sauntered over to a bookcase brimming with classic rock vinyl records and selected one to play. As the gritty chords filled the room, he couldn't help but groove back towards Carol and Floyd. With a flair for the dramatic, Riff escorted Floyd into the bathroom to dampen his hair. Carol, ever the whirlwind of energy, darted after them with shampoo and conditioner in hand, vigorously working the products into Floyd's hair with an enthusiasm that bordered on zealous.

As Carol continued to lather shampoo into Floyd's hair with an intensity bordering on madness, Floyd began to speak, his voice calm amid the chaos.

"You know, guys, I've been thinking a lot about my baby brother, Branch," Floyd started, his tone nostalgic. "He was always the littlest one in our family, but man, he had the biggest heart. Always running around with a smile on his face, spreading joy wherever he went."

Carol paused for a moment, her eyes still gleaming with excitement, while Riff nodded in understanding, his hands now running through Floyd's hair to ensure every strand was coated evenly.

"Yeah, I remember you mentioning him before," Riff said, his voice soft. "Must be tough not having him around."

Floyd nodded, a wistful smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, it's been hard, especially with everything that's happened lately. But I know he's out there back home, and I'm holding onto hope that I'll see him again someday."

Carol, her frenzy momentarily quelled by the conversation, nodded in agreement. "That's the spirit, Pinkie! Never give up hope."

With his hair thoroughly shampooed and rinsed, Floyd couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with Carol and Riff, despite their eccentricities. As the trio continued their impromptu salon session, Floyd found solace in the shared moments of friendship and understanding.

Riff carefully maneuvered the showerhead, rinsing away the suds from Floyd's hair, while Carol, with her ever-present zeal, ensured every bubble was washed out.

With the rinsing done, Carol, eyes sparkling with mischief, retrieved a hairdryer that looked like it had seen better days. She flipped the switch, and as the dryer hummed to life, she launched into an impromptu performance, her voice oscillating between notes with dramatic flair.

"Oh, we're drying your hair, but beware," Carol sang, holding the hairdryer like a rockstar with a microphone. "For this ancient dryer, with its power so rare, could gift you with style or a quite bald affair!"

Riff, with a bemused glance at Carol's performance, gently took the hairdryer from her hands, applying a more measured approach. He began drying Floyd's hair, the warm air brushing against Floyd's scalp in a soothing rhythm.

Despite the precarious introduction to the hairdrying session, Floyd found himself relaxing under Riff's careful ministrations. Carol's wild antics and Riff's steadying presence combined into an oddly comforting atmosphere, bridging the gap between anxiety and anticipation for what his new look would turn out to be.

                Before long, Floyd's hair was successfully dried, leading to the next step in their adventurous makeover. Riff procured a bat-themed hairbrush, diligently removing strands of red and black hair from its bristles before Carol eagerly grabbed it from him. With a fervor only Carol could muster, she began to brush Floyd's now soft, silky hair. Floyd, trying to maintain his composure, bit his lip and fought back tears from the vigorous brushing.

Sensing Floyd's discomfort, Riff intervened with a jar of hair gel in hand. He offered Floyd a sympathetic look and said, "Sorry, little dude. Carol's enthusiasm sometimes overshadows her brushing skills."

Carol wrapped up her impromptu hairbrushing session with a jubilant song, her voice echoing off the bathroom walls, "Oh, I'm done with the brush, oh yes, I am! Floyd's hair's now softer than Rebel's tail, fluffier than Barb's iconic 'hawk, what a glam!" With a dramatic flourish, she tossed the brush over her shoulder; it landed with a thud somewhere in the room, its location now a mystery.

Riff, meanwhile, scooped a generous amount of hair gel onto his hands and worked it through Floyd's hair with practiced ease. He styled it into a trendy, messy bang that casually swept over Floyd's face, adding a touch of rock flair to his look.

Carol, ever unpredictable, pranced around the bathroom, a ringpop suddenly appearing in her mouth. How she acquired it was anyone's guess - with Carol, some things are better left unasked.

Riff presented a handheld mirror to Floyd, allowing him a first glimpse at his transformation. Floyd's eyes lit up, a visible spark of excitement dancing within them. "I love it, this is amazing!" he exclaimed. From somewhere behind him, Carol's voice chimed in, full of mock disappointment, "Would've been way cooler with the chainsaw, though!"

Riff, unfazed by Carol's interjection, added, "Just wait, little dude. We're not done giving you that new rockstar look yet." With that, the trio made their way back to the living room, heading straight for the treasure trove of Carol's makeover supplies that awaited them in the infamous briefcase.

         Carol meticulously selected an eyeliner from the chaos of the briefcase and moved in close to Floyd's face. With her tongue peeking out in a display of deep concentration, she began crafting a smudged panda eye look on Floyd.

Meanwhile, Riff rummaged through the treasure trove of accessories within the briefcase. His search yielded a fuzzy black earring, a spiked choker, and a pair of black fingerless leather gloves. A satisfied smile spread across his face as he mentally approved each item.

Suddenly, Floyd winced. "OW-" he cried out as Carol, in her focused state, accidentally jabbed him in the eye with a nail. "WOOPSIE DAISEY WAISEY!" she exclaimed, unfazed by the mishap.

Not missing a beat, Carol's eyes sparkled with mischief as she brandished a bottle of black nail polish. "Let's give those nails a bit of an edge, shall we?" she suggested, her grin widening at the thought.

         As Carol diligently applied the nail polish to Floyd's fingers, Riff took the opportunity to swap Floyd's existing white earring for the new, fuzzy black one, seamlessly integrating it with Floyd's evolving look. Navigating around Carol's bustling activity, Riff then fastened the spiked choker around Floyd's neck, each accessory further defining Floyd's transformation.

Amidst the flurry of their makeover session, Carol, ever the entertainer, began to sing. Her song, with a tune as quirky as its lyrics, unfolded a bizarre tale that captured the room's attention:

"In the shadows of Volcano Rock City,

Where the lava flows and the nights ain't pretty,

Appeared a mystery child, so gray and small,

Under the moon's glow, he captivated us all.

For five strange months, he roamed our streets,

With steps so silent, and beats so sweet.

But as quick as he came, he vanished in the night,

Leaving behind tales of wonder, and a trace of light."

Her voice carried the whimsy and intrigue of the story, painting a vivid picture of the mysterious child and his fleeting presence in Volcano Rock City, leaving Floyd and Riff engrossed in the peculiar narrative.

       Once Carol had meticulously finished painting and shaping Floyd's nails to perfection, she breezed off into the kitchen, diving into the depths of the fridge. Meanwhile, Floyd and Riff lingered in the living room, giving the fresh polish on Floyd's nails some time to dry before he could don the gloves without smudging them.

As they waited, Floyd curiously broached the topic of Riff's personal life. "So, do you have any brothers or sisters? Or other friends we haven't met yet?"

Riff shook his head, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Nah, no siblings for me. But yeah, I've got a couple of other buddies. Val and Demo," he said, his smile widening at the mention of Demo, his cheeks coloring slightly with a rosy hue. "Demo's pretty cool. I like hanging out with him a lot," he added, the goofy smile plastered on his face making it obvious there was more to that story.

Floyd caught the change in Riff's demeanor and offered a knowing look, the unspoken understanding between them hanging in the air like a shared secret.

Carol returned to the living room, a tune on her lips, as she savored a cup of red velvet pudding, its fiery sprinkle topping dancing like flames. Riff, meanwhile, found a spot to lean against the couch's base, easing into a state so tranquil, Floyd couldn't quite discern if he had drifted to sleep.

With a flick of her wrist, Carol put on a film titled 'The Inferno of Love.' As the movie played, it quickly became apparent to both Floyd and Carol that it wasn't going to be a favorite. The acting fell flat, and the humor missed its mark, making them cringe more than laugh. Time passed, and as the movie trudged on, Floyd's nails finally set, allowing him to slip on the gloves, a small victory in an evening hampered by cinematic disappointment.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As dusk enveloped the outside world, a cloak of weariness draped over Carol and Floyd. Floyd had succumbed to slumber on the couch, while Carol, in a feat defying the usual constraints of gravity, managed to doze off atop the couch's backrest, miraculously maintaining her balance.

The tranquility was momentarily interrupted as the front door creaked open. Barb strolled in, a scowl plastered on her face, muttering complaints about her disdain for needles and shots. Rebel, trailing behind her, quipped with a mixture of amusement and sarcasm, "Well, maybe next time you'll think twice before picking fights with rabies-infested mice."

Their banter came to a halt as they surveyed the scene before them: Riff, Carol, and a transformed Floyd, all deep in the arms of sleep. Rebel let out a resigned sigh, her gaze softening at the sight of their peaceful faces. She tiptoed to the hallway closet, retrieving blankets and pillows with the care of someone not wanting to disturb the serene moment. She carefully placed a pillow under each of their heads and draped blankets over their bodies, ensuring they were comfortable. 

Then, with a quiet efficiency, Rebel arranged a makeshift bed on the floor for herself and Barb. She flicked off the lights, and in the darkness, she and Barb found their own slumber, joining their friends in rest, the room filled with the gentle, synchronized breathing of a family bound not by blood, but by bond.

[jgmartin]

of bitter realizations and new hope

i think we've all got that story inside of us. the story that set us on the path to writing in the first place. for some, it's fanfiction. for others, it's something more personal, some deep world that you've been gestating inside of yourself for years, maybe decades.

for me, it began as a poor copypasta of DBZ meets lord of the rings. there was swords. magic. goblins n all that kinda shit. but the hero was capable of transforming into (and i know this sounds amazing) something called a 'legendary super warrior.'

wowie.

almost like a legendary super saiyan, but it's distinct in certain ways. see, the legendary super warrior can fly... and uh... it can shoot beams... and uh, the hair grows... BUT IT DOESN'T STAND UP. it flows down. basically, when my MC would transform, he'd get sweet rocker hair.

yeah, not terribly original.

i was young though.

more importantly, i was learning. i was taking influences from others who inspired me and transmuting them into something of my own. i was creating my own creativity, and that takes time. so i don't harsh on myself for it being super derivative. sometimes you need the context of life experience to show you what is and what isn't original.

anyway, a few years back i decided to get back into writing. i thought what the hell? why don't i write the story that's been burning in my head FOR DECADES, and so that's just what i did.

and you know what?

it sucked.

and by sucked, i mean it was fucking awful.

terrible.

just the worst.

but not because the story sucked, or the characters sucked, or the premise sucked. it was because i, as a writer, sucked. i couldn't bring to life the vision i had, and accepting that was hard as hell. it took me 113,000 words to realize that fact, but once i did, it was the most liberating thing i ever did.

why?

because it gave me the courage to write in other genres. to write short stories. to stop obsessing over the magnum opus i one day needed to write because i'd already written it-- and it was found wanting.

so i decided to hone my craft. develop my skills on other projects.

and that's just what i've been doing over the last several years. i've been churning out short story after short story, developing smaller, self-contained mythos that revolve around genres i'd previously had no experience in: modern horror and dark folktales.

it's been a trip. a total experience, but i'm so happy for it.

anyway, all of this to say, i think i'm almost ready to come back to the story that started it all. the story that's been growing in the back of my mind ever since i was 10 years old, evolving, transforming itself into something purer, more complete. it's called The Prince of Cinders, and this whole fucking post? this entire goddamn ramble?

well, it was all to show you this picture.

i drew a map, guys =)

[smartzelda]

Jealousy Date

By: SmartZelda

Summary:

Sora's too anxious to ask Kairi to go out with him, so instead, he decides to make her jealous enough to ask him out on a date. His method? Fake dating. He creates a list of people to ask, and only one person agrees. Guess who.

Rating: Teen

Category: mlm

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Relationship: Soriku

Additional Tags: Riku in Love, Confessions, some angst, fake dating au

Words: 9,144, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Posting Date: 05-19-2019

Link to Fic:

[Any commentary, thoughts, additions, etc from me is under the cut😊]

Man. The fic that started it all

Considering I thought it was my magnum opus for about a year, I'm surprised I never properly posted this fic here, but 🤷 so it goes

While "Walking Through the Twilight" was the first thing I ever posted, "Jealousy Date" was the real start of an era. It jumpstarted...all of this (me ending up having written a number of Soriku fics over the course of a couple years). And while it doesn't quite as hold up these days, I still think back on it with nostalgia.

Although I don't know when I'll finish it, one day I hope to complete a rewrite of this fic (posting it separately of course) in my current style. It would be chaptered though, so I'm just kind of working on it whenever I feel like it. Maybe one day...

[onewingedsparrow]

4, 6, and 7!

For this ask game @nocturnalfandomartist Hi Nocturne! Thank you for the ask! :D This is very long, hopefully you don't mind :) 4. Do you have beta? How important is it to the process? As a general rule: no. I have a naturally sharp eye for grammar, spelling, and cohesion. I prefer going through my writing myself with a fine-toothed comb, because beta reading my own fics helps me notice what I need to improve at a rate faster than someone else could point it out. Reading my writing aloud is something I also enjoy doing that helps me keep dialogue smooth, my syllables flowing, and my pacing watertight. In addition, because so many of my works are interconnected in an intricate spiral galaxy of depth and parallels and foreshadows and flashbacks and LORE, it's impossible for a beta reader to fully grasp all that I am intending to convey in any single story without reading...literally everything everywhere all at once which I am writing. No oneshot of mine is truly a oneshot. :) However, I don't discount the benefits of beta reading! Editor feedback is valuable for pointing out subconscious habits of mine and improvements to my flow that I can make. It also is valuable in reinforcing my writing voice; I have learned very quickly what sentence structures I am not willing to compromise on, lol. I use what I learn from other endeavors to enhance my fandom writing. I also make an effort to continue reading published books, articles, screenplays, etc. in addition to posted fanfiction. While fanfiction is in no way "inferior" to published work, there is much to learn from published work that has passed through gateways of editing that fanfiction slips by. In other words, just because my fics are deliberately not beta read doesn't mean that I aim to let my writing stay stagnant. I am still learning and will always be learning. Only a few of my fics will be jestingly tagged as "No beta we die like X"—typically older ones from my "Throwback Archive" that I don't care about cleaning up. They're the equivalent of rough sketches, so they don't need to be anywhere near my usual standards for posting. For my giant Fire Emblem fic*, however, I'm worldbuilding with someone in particular. Once I complete a few drafts of the entire massive story, I will have him alone beta read that, in order to get his feedback on keeping the giant cast all in-character, keeping the route-crossing satisfactory, etc. *This is not posted yet and will not be for a while. It's my fanfic magnum opus. It will be hundreds of thousands of words and multiple books long. And, since I am a plantser, I can't share portions of it because it is all written and drafted out-of-order. I can't wait to drop the entire story on AO3 someday. That will be a glorious day.

6. Post links to your 3 fav fics: Well, all my proper "favorites" are the giant ones that haven't been posted yet. (The Three Houses one, Under My Wings, and the secret sparkling project.) My posted "favorites" differ day by day, depending on what mood I'm in. "To Bee a Leader" is ever dear to my heart. But, at present, I am partial to "Where Sorrow Rings" (FE Engage, during-canon angst) "Reigniting" (TLoZ Ocarina of Time during-canon drabble) "もう少しだけ"　(Death Note during-canon drabble)

7. How do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences? I am invested in what is called "third-person deep POV." I love getting into the head, heart and soul (or, as Transformers would call all three together, the spark) of characters and wresting out their deepest thoughts, feelings, and very being. Line by line, droplet by droplet, I fish it out out of their darkened depths. So, yes, I feel what the characters feel. If I don't feel what the characters feel as I write, then my readers won't either as they read. That is one of my goals in writing characters within third-person deep POV: to make the readers feel what the characters are. Obviously, I can't 1:1 relate to everything my characters go through. Moreover, I hope I don't, since some of them go through some pretty nasty messes I wouldn't wish on anyone. ���� But, I will thoroughly analyze my characters' perspectives from their shoes and see if anything across my personal experiences can be either directly or distantly relatable to that, and begin composing from there.

[minniethemoocherda]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Thank you so much for the ask!! This is such a great idea!! If anyone else wants to join in then please do!!

Sins of the Past

A collection of drabbles set in my modern au where the Bad Batch raise Omega after rescuing her from the abusive hands of their mother.

I love modern aus and I couldn't find any of The Bad Batch so I figured if you can't find it then you've got to write it yourself! And I can't believe how many other modern aus this fic has since inspired itself!

Family

After an Imperial Base is attacked, Eli and Thrawn find a young child in the wreckage.

I was not in a good place during the time I was writing this so writing this fic genuinely was like therapy for me.

Watching Her Back

Instances of Bly watching Aayla’s back over the years.

This is my like magnum opus of my Blyla fics!

Katara's Time

It had been a long time since Katara had thought about the ancient fortuneteller that she and her husband had met nearly a century ago. But she had never forgotten the words Aunt Wu had said: "You will have your third great-grandchild before quietly passing away in your sleep."

This fic blew up on tumblr for reason and I'm still really proud of it!

After All is Said and Done

"Please tell me I wasn't this bad when I was a sparkling." Bumblebee sighed. "No. You were a lot worse." Optimus teased.

Can't believe it took me this long to wrote my first Transformers fanfic but I'm happy with how it turned out!

[anonymous-dee]

Please read this fic I am begging you

I need some time to collect my thoughts about one of the best pieces of fan-fictional media I have ever come across in my 22 (almost 23) years of living. 

I know I may be late to the party, but I just finished reading 'carve your love into my skin' by EmpressofWallachia on Ao3 (link at the bottom of this post).

It's a Soukoku fic.

This entire story was dipped in rich, compelling prose, heart shattering angst, and detailed historical accuracy of which I have never before encountered in another Bungou Stray Dogs fanfiction. This fanfic definitely falls in my top 3 fanfics of all time, if not already taking the number one spot.

The historical references were tackled intensely and seriously in gripping, nauseating (/pos) detail, and I have yet to encounter a SKK fic that was able to CHARACTERIZE Chuuya and Dazai in such an accurate way that this fic does. This fic depicts SO BEAUTIFULLY their complex feelings and emotions towards one another and expands upon it in a way that felt novel and fresh and horrifically real and sad at the same time. It felt realistic, and I loved every second of it. When this fic says its a SLOW BURN, IT REALLY MEANS THAT.

It is very rare for me to find a fanfiction that emotionally moves me in a way such as this one did: I don't know if I will ever recover, and I mean this in the BEST WAY POSSIBLE. Most fics are alright, some are even pretty good! I remember many fics and bookmark them to read again later as a little treat. But it's hard for a fic to leave an emotional impact to the extent that this one did. THIS FIC stands above the rest, and towers over everything else like the Magnum Opus of any fanfiction ever written for the Bungou Stray Dogs fandom. 

The emotions of both Chuuya and Dazai are conveyed in such a way that I can physically feel their pains and sorrows, and the story is rich and sopping with delicious angst that I lick from the boots of the author with hungry desire. I feel as though I will never hunger, so long as this fic is here to satisfy me. I will proceed to go through the five stages of grief upon knowing this fic is over, and I might never recover from knowing that there might not be any fic better than this. This is the best of the best. 

[lucyfrostblade]

top five favorite lines you've written? (either recently, or overall!)

i am fairly certain this is a fanfic related ask so i will do that but i am also going my original stuff because that's where the honest answer for my favorite lines comes from. also most of these are paragraphs but i'll bold the line in question:

"You turned to face It, saw Their face staring back at you. The skin sagged. Their eyes were void, the blue of ice rather than the ocean. And Their lips were a grayish pink. You leaned forward, pressed your lips to Theirs, ignored the taste of rot. They bit." (horror-ish short story)

"Here’s how the trip ends: your fists, his face then your father’s arms wrapped around you, keeping you away from him. It was a drive through the woods, looking for owls and elk and deer. The children and teens sat in the bed of the truck. You sit as far away from him as you can. It doesn’t stop him. It doesn’t stop the proposition. Your younger sisters sit on either side of you, hear him. Before this, you weren’t an angry kid—small and weird and distractible but bright eyed and prone to toothy grins. But you remember all that anger contained in a body that hadn’t yet learned to store fat." (creative non-fiction)

"But her mind went back to it, kept it crystal clear in her memory. She felt the chill of water, felt it burning her lungs. She felt Kipperlilly’s hands against her shoulders comforting at first, felt Kipperlilly’s hands hold her shoulders down. She felt the sun against her skin, felt a thousand suns against her skin." ( first light / last light )

"She dreamt of a burning red, thought at first that she might be back in the afterlife Ankarna’s name kept her in until Kristen released her. The heat grew and grew and grew, and something hot and liquid smothered her. She was paralyzed, floating directionless in space. Her head lulled to the side, and she saw bright orange. She saw spots that burned a brighter yellow." (current wip, lucy frostblade focused fic post episode 20)

I cannot find the document but my magnum opus is a ten page paper I wrote comparing the depiction of being a teen girl to the depiction of monsters in horror films. Rest in peace to that paper. Please accept this from my analysis of the Fly (1986) for the same class: "He transforms slowly into a human-fly hybrid. At first the effects are positive. His ego grows, no longer isolated simply to his intellect, and his athletic abilities increase tenfold. These effects do not stay positive for long. Over the course of a month, he loses teeth and fingernails, lesions blossom on his skin, and he walks with mobility aids. Ultimately though, he embraces the transformation. It is after all just an externalization of the alienation he has always felt. The movie closes with Seth’s death, with the acceptance that he is too far outside of society to be welcomed back in. After all, he is just a fly that got to be a man."

[inkabelledesigns]

Fanwork creators self rec! When you get this, reply with your five favorite fics/art/podfics/etc. that you've made, then pass on to others. Let’s spread the self-love 🌼

(No pressure if you don't want to though!)

Star, thank you so much for sending me this! Delighted to be included and honored to be asked! While I don’t have a ton of fics out there (and some of my favorite parts of them aren’t even public yet) I think we can pick out five I really love. And I’ll encourage all of you to share works that you love from your own libraries! Please share, I wanna see what brings you joy!

Raindrops and References

If you thought I wasn’t gonna include this one, you had another thing coming Star. XD One, thank you for letting me explore your world through my own lens, and two, thank you for your kind words. I wrote this fic when I was just getting back into writing, and it was an early step in learning to write for my own enjoyment after having been expected to create for others for years. It was satisfying and fun for me, and I’m glad it’s been that for you and so many others as well. I still get emails of people leaving a Kudos on this from time to time, it’s wild. X’’’D Sometimes you give a gift and get an unexpected one in return. I’m still glad I wrote this, it made a positive difference.

Trapped in His Web

I don’t know if this one is still canon to Step Right Up, but regardless, I’m still honored to be a part of @bertrumstrousers wonderful circus world. Thanks for letting me write for Jacob and the make-up and costume department Giandark, it’s a treat and I love them so much. It was such a good time getting into Jacob’s head and Bertrum’s, and the horror and transformation elements of this story brought me so much joy. 

The Kraken’s Labyrinth

One day I will pick this up again, now that I have a clearer idea of what to do with it (thanks Audrey). XD It was inevitable that I was gonna put Bendy and merfolk together, with a little sprinkling of Samsie, but I didn’t expect how much joy this was gonna bring to the table. Still love this world a lot.

Searching the Depths - The Heart of the Studio

Ah yes, my “magnum opus” fic. Of course I have this as a favorite. XD I have a lot of fun working with the entire Bendy cast and my silly little OCs. I’m letting myself learn to just let go and have fun, and this fic continues to teach me everyday what I want in a story. It means so much that you guys have loved Bella and co, thank you. <3

Richard the Keeper - The Studies of 214

My most recent fic and a surprisingly strong source of brainrot as of late. If you like witty banter, unethical science, and Bendy levels of shenanigans, highly recommend this one! It’s got three chapters now with a focus on Richard, a keeper, running experiments to unlock the secrets of how the ink works, with the help of Bella, his prisoner and one of our cyclebreaker protagonists. Richard and Bella have such a fun dynamic, Sammy has been a delight to write in this one, and Wilson? Oh he’s horrible, I love writing him too. XD Please get me to talk about this one more, I’m having a blast with it. 

Honorable Mention: 

The Role I Was Made For

Not so much a fic as it is an audio skit! This started out as a dialogue test to see if I could voice Audrey and a cartoon Bendy (I blame Erin Lehn for putting the question out to the community of what Baby Benders might sound like, that’s what sparked this). It turned into a much deeper script about what makes a Bendy, and how Bendy and Audrey feel about who they are. It needs some heavy editing, but it’s one of the best scripts I’ve written in a long time. I’d say I like it just as much as Break Time, and another collaborative skit that hasn’t come out yet. Stay tuned, your girl got to co-write something awesome and perform as a very animated Susie Campbell, I look forward to when that’s ready to be heard. XD

Here’s sending you all the good vibes! Go take some time to reflect on what you love about your work, it’s very rewarding.

[thegentlesurvive]

I’m so sleep deprived, so this is truly a junk drawer post, but I’m not done talking about Taylor Swift and literary alchemy!!

Like can we just talk about the fact that the proper name for the alchemical process is magnum opus and how that term is commonly used to refer to an artist’s masterpiece that is most representative of them and their journey or the most important to them?

Is it possible that we’ll find that the title “The Alchemy” could be substituted by “The Great Work” or “The Magnum Opus”? That provides so much fuel for predictions about the song.

“Daylight” has been discussed as being connected to “The Alchemist” because of the mention of gold and to “Red” because of mention of red, but can we talk about how it specifically references ALL the colors of the three stages of alchemy in order (I once believed love would be black and white […] I once believed love would be burning red, but it’s golden”)?

And can we talk about the album colors and how they tie in to alchemy? If Reputation was the black stage, next comes white, right? But Lover isn’t white, even though that seems like the vibe it was going for—perhaps white was the stage Taylor wanted or believed it to be in her life and/or music career, but as the Apple Music “I Love You, It’s Ruining My Life” playlist tell us, Lover was mostly denial—nor is Midnights, which harkens back to the darkness. TTPD is the white stage—the purification and refinement (i.e., removing what doesn’t belong…just sayin).

What comes next, then? Either one (red, most likely) or two (yellow and red) final stages. Philosophically, the yellowing, cintrinitas represents an awakening, and the reddening/rubedo “stage entails the attempt of the alchemist to integrate the psychospiritual outcomes of the process into a coherent sense of self before its re-entry to the world” (Wikipedia). If it’s two, well, bring on the two ✌️ theories!

I think there probably are multiple correct answers here for how what’s to come next relates to alchemy, because it’s like that, and very layered (I mean, literary alchemy started as satire of alchemy before it became serious themes and tropes and story structures and the names of mentors in Harry Potter).

What speaks to me the most in regards to twos and alchemy is that she has two re-recorded albums to release to complete the Taylor’s Version project. Is Taylor’s Version her magnum opus, her hero’s journey?

If there’s just the one final alchemical stage to follow TTPD, will that yellow/red phase be the next new album and our mystery orange door? Whether or not the Karma theories have a factual basis, we know Taylor takes inspiration from fan theories, as most recently evidenced by the grief playlists. Could the concept of Karma—the orange (yellow+red) album that was waylaid by the blackening (Reputation) and burned down in the subsequent attempted whitening (Lover) which left us back at the dark stage (Midnights [leaving folkmore out because they’re not overall autobiographical and weren’t planned, so there wasn’t an intention to move/transform into the next stage, if that makes sense?])—be used by Taylor to represent that the end of this alchemical process is getting back on track for what she had planned before the Taylor Swift Is Over Party and/or Joe? Or, if that potential album indeed burned down completely with the rest of the Lover house, will whatever her next album after TTPD be rising in some way from those ashes?

Okay I’m officially deliriously tired now to where I can’t read what I’m writing as I write it, so I’m going to pause here tonight before my theories totally lose the plot, but please continue and add your thoughts/ideas!!