#soaringly

[alealueur]

@soaringly * ✲ 『 plotted starter 』

Something did not feel right. Battle was supposed to be a place to release the emotions he was not allowed to feel. It was what allowed him to keep himself in control. Seeing his enemies as nothing more than inanimate obstacles was key to get through each fight. Cutting them down without a second thought was supposed to be simple, and yet that girl—Veyle, her name was—she... disrupted this thinking. The people by her side too, he could not grasp their ways.

However, the last battle was... won (was it? Surely it was due to the fact he left alive in the end; if had failed, he should have not moved again). The exchange of his blade and his foes were fuzzy in his mind if even present. Why could that be?

The intense throbbing in his head might be the answer. The sharp burn that accompanied each one felt horrendous. An echo of a different voice screamed from within, and the fell dragon could not make sense of its cries outside of giving something back to it. His head felt as though it was splitting in two. He could not think of anything or even get a sense of where he was now, but at least it seemed he was well within safe territory, the castle that acted as their main operating chambers.

How had the scenery changed so much since the last time he recalled anything? There was no clear memory since the last time he had met with that girl alone out in some field of sorts. He had parted ways with her and then what? As much as he wanted to understand, the coursing pain running through his skull prevented it—a hand reaching to press at his temple to ease the pain. He must... see to this, but only Zephia would know why this was happening (why was he hesitant?).

Without any other choice, Alear sought out the mage dragon's quarters. Keeping close to and pressing a hand against the wall for support, he dragged himself along, hoping the woman would have a cure for this confusing mess of sensations. The burning sensation was even traveling to his chest now and causing his pulse to spike; his breath was quickening as if oxygen was being stolen quicker than he could take it in. If he didn't hurry, he could only feel bad things happening.

Upon finally locating her, Alear finally found it in himself to speak. Straining his voice to force out something to garner her attention, he called out to her as he fought for an inch of breath, ❝ Zephia. ❞ It hurts.

[csmistcres]

𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴𝙳 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙴 | @soaringly!

it had been quite a day for elyse , and that was an understatement. she took a another big step in her life. she has been a nurse for a while now , mainly in the pediatric unit, but she was no stranger to the others. the hospital she worked at was recently purchased by some billionaire with no experience in medicine , purely for a business opportunity. another way to have his name on a wall. as a result, it didn't take long at all for the hospital to turn to shit. for lack of a better word. for a nurse who usually enjoyed every shift , it was crazy to think to think that was no longer the case. but the reasons were right there with the day to day operations. it was no longer about the patient. instead, it was about how much they could draw out of patients and their families. the crack that had been forming in her split opened. so she quit. she was overworked & exhausted. it was time for an extended break. she didn't know how long or didn't care.

it has been a whole week since she had seen harvey. of course they had texted here or there a few times , but between both of their busy schedules neither had the time. until now that is. she walked in to the tall building pearson specter litt was housed, checking in and being let back to the elevators so she can use one to go to to Harvey's floor.

what happened when she got there was unexpected. when his eyes met her , his lips were on hers within a couple seconds. she forgot about all her troubles for the time being. her hands wrap around his waist and when their lips disconnected, she smiles up at him. speechless. it took her a few heartbeats for her to regain it, just in time to answer his question.

❝ well , can't a girl visit the best closer in the city to see him? ❞ she asked, before biting her lip. ❝ and I have some news. I quit my job at the hospital. I am done. ❞

[summonerengaged]

starter for @soaringly​

She really hoped she wasn’t intruding, truly. But during that last fight, she couldn’t help but notice something about the wyvern rider’s choice of weapon. She had no idea how Failnaught had ended up in Elyos, but it was worth a shot asking anyway. 

The white and gold clad summoner materialized in the Somniel’s plaza. 

“Rosado, first of all- adorable outfit as always. Second, May I ask you something about that last skirmish?”

[pctaldrunk]

@soaringly​ asked   :    [ DINNER ]    --    h.aibara to ran !   -   SO YOU HAD A BAD DAY (ACCEPTING)

[ DINNER ]: having learned that the receiver has had a difficult time lately, sender arrives at their door with their favorite dinner and drinks.

The doorbell rings and she hastily kicks feet into slippers with RELIEF, wiping her face and smoothing her hair as she crosses over to the door.  More than being alone at home, she hates prolonging the part where she feels sorry for herself - a girl her age should be more than happy to have the vast and empty detective agency all to herself, but - it’s coming up on about a week now that her father and even the child that SHOULD be in bed by now for school the next day - have ended up at the police station far later than usual for some case or other. It’s always a case, as it turns out, when it comes to everyone in her life, the traitorous voice in her mind whispers - and is it really selfish, to FEEL invisible in her own life, when it’s so easy to?

As a precaution she peers out the peephole FIRST - and then swings it open, voice colored by surprised - “Ai-chan?”  Peers around the corner, and then down the stairs. “...Agasa-hakase isn’t with you? Did you walk by yourself?” Brows furrow as she steps aside to let the other in. “I ought to call him and give him a scolding.” Purses her lips. “I’m afraid Conan-kun isn’t here right now...” Those two were as thick as thieves sometimes, and she had no idea what they plotted. “But if you want to sit with me for a little while, I can make you something to eat - oh. You brought sandwiches from downstairs?”

[fodlansbestmom]

Satisfy you or die trying. Thst certainly a promise to withhold. She knew Sylvain might’ve have plenty of practice, but she did not. The littlest things made her satisfied , despite being so greedy. This was new territory, and she’s going to enjoy it best she can.

her breath hitched before she let out a soft moan. Already she’s addicted to his tongue, to how it glides expertly on her burning skin. “Mm…just don’t burn yourself,” So warned quietly before she gently rolled her hips into Sylvains face. “Y-you’re only mortal, can I not have concern for you?”

fodlansbestmom​:

Sothis still wasn’t entirely sure how she got in this situation, with Sylvain of all people, but she was not complaining. How could she? A hand grazed down her bare midriff before fingers slid through red locks.

“Mm, I’ll admit, I’ve never been worshipped this way,” she admitted with a hitched breath at the bite her thighs were quite sensitive, especially as it’s where her crest mark was. Her legs spread abit more for him, her skirt shifted a tad to expose damp panties. “ Think You’re able to withstand my heat, Syl?” So far so good, but she was 110 degrees after all.

he’s jerked forward by her touch, lithe fingers curling into his hair in a sharp tug; it’s a little mean … just how he likes it. the shape of her crest mark is haloed in a faint , golden flush  –  & he has an abrupt urge to find out just how far up the sheen of color goes. as her legs part, he finds solace between them, swaying toward her heat .

he glances up at her with a practiced smirk. it’s not as effective when his eyes are glassy with desire , “ what kind of man do you take me as ?  i’ll satisfy you, or die trying. ”  tongue reconnects with flesh, trailing a hot line to her dripping center. he laps her softly , a tentative rythmn against her peak, spit wetting the fabric so that it clings to her shape. a groan builds at his throat as her taste spills onto his tongue.

[cedric-k-rossignol]

Placing my bets now that Undertaker's last name is Rossignol, the French word for nightingale. 

In trying to explain to a friend the plot of black butler via the iceberg meme, I've become so convinced that I've figured out Cedric K. Ros-'s (aka Undertaker's) last name that I've rejoined this site to scream into the void.

At least, I haven't been able to find anything on the English/French speaking internet suggesting this theory has been floated before.

Of course, this is assuming you subscribe to the Cedric K. Ros- = Undertaker = Undertaker x Cloudia affair = Grandtaker pipeline. And, that you think he is of French/Breton origin. 

Dates

Important to note that dates and numbers are important in Black Butler's story, both within the fictional narrative and in connection to real historical events (emphasized with the first arc lining up with the actual 'Jack the Ripper' murders). Some examples of this;

1819 is the year in which the real Queen Victoria (and her cousin-husband Prince Albert) were born. 1819 is also the year in which the name 'Cedric' first appears in the novel 'Ivanhoe'. Within the story, this is also right around the time that reaper 136649 attacks Reaper HQ.

1837 is the year in which the real Queen Victoria ascended the throne. In Black Butler, this is year in which Molly G., the first chronological locket on Undertaker's chain, died. 1837 would also be right around the time that Undertaker is noted as having absconded with his death scythe, officially deserting the organization...20 years after a workplace shooting (he must be union).

Vincent Phantomhive is born on Friday June 13th, 1851. Cloudia Phantomhive dies on Friday July 13th, 1866. She is 36 years old when she dies. If you believe that Undertaker's reaper serial number 136649 means he died in the year 1366 (an interesting time period in Brittany, what with the Breton War of Succession, the Hundred Years War, the Black Death...), this would mean Cloudia dies 500 years after he unalives himself.

Prince Albert dies on December 14th, 1861, in the real world. The Phantomhive twins are born on December 14th, 1875 - the 14th anniversary of Prince Albert's death. Vincent is 24 years old when he becomes a father. The manor is attacked on December 14th, 1885 - the 24th anniversary of Prince Albert's death. Vincent is 34 years old when he dies. There's speculation that the story will end on Friday December 13th, 1889 - the twin's last day of being 13 years old, before they turn 14 years old on December 14th, 1889, the 4th anniversary of the attack on the manor.

TLDR, dates matching up with historical events/publications is not coincidental. Yana pays attention to her numbers.

Now, back to Cedric K. Ros-

I've read speculation that the 'Ros-' must have something to do with roses, since Phantomhives are so often associated with roses (and their thorns). Guess what little bird is very commonly associated with roses? Whose song is often associated with melancholy, longing, and mourning? Who so often seems to unalive themselves on thorns?  

"the nightingale...can also be seen to provide a link to something, opening out onto something beyond the self. Heard but not seen, the nightingale represents an intangible presence; a longing that can be either terribly earthly, in the guise of sexual desire, or soaringly spiritual, as when the nightingale represents the soul, rising above."

Some fun facts about nightingales;

Female nightingales are mute, only male nightingales sing - though historically people thought the opposite, so many of the nightingales in literature are female.

It is one of the only birds that sing throughout the night (name means 'night singer').

In Persian poetry, the nightingale is a symbol of a lover who is "eloquent, passionate, and doomed to love in vain" - the object of their affections is the rose, which "embodies both the perfection of earthly beauty and the arrogance of that perfection."

The oldest appearance of nightingales in literature goes back to the myth of Philomela, who was turned into a nightingale by the Gods.

In Shakespeare's poem 'Lucrece', the titular character is inspired to commit suicide when a nightingale leans their breast against a thorn to inspire a song and ward off sleep.

The nightingale also makes an appearance in Shakespeare's 'Romeo & Juliet', when Juliet mistakes the song of a lark for that of a nightingale.

I have read a ridiculous amount of poetry about nightingales recently (there is a lot of it), but I'm going to focus on one Breton piece from the middle ages and two English pieces from the 19th century because they have the most relevant dates (which as previously mentioned, are important).

Laüstic

There is the Breton lai 'Laüstic', composed in the late 12th century by Marie de France (Laüstic' is the Breton word for rossignol/nightingale). Breton lais are a form of medieval French romance literature that often involve supernatural and fairy-world Celtic elements.

"In most of Marie de France’s Lais, love is associated with suffering, and over half of them involve an adulterous relationship... In Marie's Lais, "love always involves suffering and frequently ends in grief, even when the love itself is approved."" 

The lais of Marie de France explore courtly love, a popular theme in medieval literature that began with Troubadour poetry in southern France in the 11th century.

"The courtly lover existed to serve his lady. His love was invariably adulterous, marriage at that time being usually the result of business interest or the seal of a power alliance. Ultimately, the lover saw himself as serving the all-powerful god of love and worshipping his lady-saint. Faithlessness was the mortal sin...The courtly lover, while displaying the same outward signs of passion, was fired by respect for his lady."

Basically, courtly love emphasized the importance of a man's respect and devotion to their lover, and I don't think anyone could doubt Undertaker's devotion to his cause.

Sidenote: I think the French story 'Floire et Blancheflor', one of the oldest and most popular romances of the middle ages, is also incredibly relevant to Undertaker & Cloudia's love story. It also explores this concept of 'courtly love' (involving a fake tomb, a prince disguised as a merchant, and an attempted suicide, no less)...and the flowers associated with the lovers are red roses and white lilies... You can read part one of my theory on Floire et Blancheflor here.

A plot summary of 'Laustic' from Wikipedia: 

Two knights live in adjoining houses, in the vicinity of Saint-Malo in Brittany; one is married and one lives as a bachelor. The wife of the married knight enters into a secret relationship with the other knight, but their contact is limited to conversation and the exchange of small gifts, since a "high wall made of dark stone" separates the two households. Typically, the lady rises at night, once her husband is asleep, and goes to the window to converse with her lover; whenever her lover is home, she is kept under close watch.  Her suspicious husband demands to know why she spends her nights at the window, and she says she does so to listen to the nightingale sing. He mocks her, and orders his servants to capture the nightingale. When it is caught he brings it to the lady's chambers, denying her requests to release the bird. Instead, he breaks its neck and throws it at her, "bloodying the front of her tunic just a bit above her breasts". After he leaves, the lady mourns the bird's death and the suffering she must accept, knowing she can no longer be at the window at night. She wraps the nightingale's body in silk, and embroidered with writing in gold thread, and charges her servant to deliver the bird and her message to her lover, who, in response, preserves the nightingale in a reliquary, a small vessel which he has encased with small jewels and precious stones, and carries it with him always. 

From the Wikipedia on reliquaries;

"A reliquary (also referred to as a shrine, by the French term châsse, and historically also referred to as a phylactery) is a container for relics. A portable reliquary may be called a fereter, and a chapel in which it is housed a feretory or feretery."    "Relics may be the purported or actual physical remains of saints...The term is sometimes used loosely for containers for the body parts of non-religious figures; in particular, the kings of France often specified that their hearts and sometimes other organs be buried in a different location from their main burial."    "In Buddhism, stupas are an important form of a reliquary and may be buried inside larger structures such as a stupa or chorten." 

Interesting, because the wooden grave markers Undertaker carries/uses to conceal his death scythe are considered to be a variant of stupa (as far as I can tell). The grave markers are sotoba inscribed with sutra - also interesting to note that in Japan, nightingales are considered a religious bird because "its song is reminiscent of the intonation of a Buddhist sutra", which in turn ties into the Buddhist prayer beads he wears around his neck.

The concept of reliquaries is somewhat similar to that of mourning lockets, especially if you consider that in the context of courtly love Undertaker was whipped likely worshipped the ground Cloudia walked on and would have treated her like a saint (good for her).

"Reliquaries are decorative vessels, often in the form of a hand, cranium, or other body part that contain the fragment of a saint or someone of holy importance. Some fragments could include remnants of a garment worn by the individual or even a piece of bone that was part of their body."

A famous reliquary is the Holy Thorn Reliquary, commissioned in late 14th century France by John, Duke of Berry (this dude has relevance to Brittany and the Hundred Years War) to house a relic of the crown of thorns.

"The jewels, which would have been keenly appreciated by contemporary viewers, include two large sapphires, one above God the Father at the very top of the reliquary, where it may have represented heaven, and the other below Christ, on which the thorn is mounted."

Sapphires and a crown of thorns are not new symbols in this story - imma leave it at that because I'm getting off topic and this is already ridiculously long.

The Nightingale and The Rose

The short story The Nightingale and the Rose by Oscar Wilde (snake's snakes) was published in the book of bedtime stories The Happy Prince and Other Tales in May 1888 (which lines up pretty closely with when the first chapter of the manga takes place). This is a bleak tale about the selfless and sacrificial nature of true love.

But the Tree cried to the Nightingale to press closer against the thorn. ‘Press closer, little Nightingale,’ cried the Tree, ‘or the Day will come before the rose is finished.   So the Nightingale pressed closer against the thorn, and the thorn touched her heart, and a fierce pang of pain shot through her. Bitter, bitter was the pain, and wilder and wilder grew her song, for she sang of the Love that is perfected by Death, of the Love that dies not in the tomb.  And the marvelous rose became crimson, like the rose of the eastern sky. Crimson was the girdle of petals, and crimson as a ruby was the heart.  But the Nightingale's voice grew fainter, and her little wings began to beat, and a film came over her eyes. Fainter and fainter grew her song, and she felt something choking her in her throat.  Then she gave one last burst of music. The white Moon heard it, and she forgot the dawn, and lingered on in the sky. The red rose heard it, and it trembled all over with ecstasy, and opened its petals to the cold morning air. Echo bore it to her purple cavern in the hills, and woke the sleeping shepherds from their dreams. It floated through the reeds of the river, and they carried its message to the sea.  'Look, look!' cried the Tree, 'the rose is finished now;' but the Nightingale made no answer, for she was lying dead in the long grass, with the thorn in her heart.  

The emphasis on the nightingale's song also brought to mind the Mother 3 theory and the importance of the music in that game - and the idea that the last names of Undertaker's lockets make a chord progression. IDK that much about Mother 3, so I can't say if there are any other further parallels to draw.

Also who would read this to a child as a bedtime story???

Undertaker. Undertaker would totally read this to Ciel as a bedtime story, who am I kidding.

An Ode to a Nightingale

Finally, there is the poem "An Ode to a Nightingale" by John Keats (another one of snake's snakes). 

There is a clear theme of death in this poem, and of life after death/immortality. There is also a sense of longing for death, of the relief death brings - very relevant for all reapers.

My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: 'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness,— That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

The first stanza mentions 'Lethe', which is one of five rivers in the Greek underworld. "The shades of the dead were required to drink the waters of the Lethe in order to forget their earthly life. In the Aeneid, Virgil writes that it is only when the dead have had their memories erased by the Lethe that they may be reincarnated."

Afaik the only reaper to reference their previous life is Sascha, and there weren't many specifics. This could just be because speaking of their human life is painful, given they all made the choice to end it...Or is it possible HQ alters their memories?

O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth, Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!

The reference to Provencal song is once again a reference to the concept of courtly love (seen in Laustic) that began with Troubadour poetry in Provence, France in the 11th century.

Already with thee! tender is the night,   And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,  Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays;  But here there is no light,  Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown  Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. 

Stars and heaven reference (Astre/Sirius & Ciel), and a reference to the moon as in the Oscar Wilde story... The Queen Moon, on her throne...

I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,  Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,  But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet  Wherewith the seasonable month endows  The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;  White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;  Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves;  And mid-May's eldest child,  The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,  The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves. 

A reference to May (we will come back to this), to musk-roses (symbolizes 'capricious beauty'), and to 'the murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves'. As previously mentioned, Cloudia dies in July...

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time  I have been half in love with easeful Death,  Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme,  To take into the air my quiet breath;  Now more than ever seems it rich to die,  To cease upon the midnight with no pain,  While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad  In such an ecstasy!  Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—  To thy high requiem become a sod. 

The suicidal ideation is strong here.

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird! No hungry generations tread thee down; The voice I hear this passing night was heard In ancient days by emperor and clown: Perhaps the self-same song that found a path Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home, She stood in tears amid the alien corn; The same that oft-times hath Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

Immortality. The last few lines immediately brought to mind the theory that Undertaker drowned himself.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell To toll me back from thee to my sole self! Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf. Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades Past the near meadows, over the still stream, Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep In the next valley-glades: Was it a vision, or a waking dream? Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?

The last stanza has the poet bidding 'Adieu' - the French word for goodbye forever which translates literally as 'until God'. Gotta love how dramatic the French are.

From Wikipedia: 

"The nightingale described experiences a type of death but does not actually die. Instead, the songbird is capable of living through its song, which is a fate that humans cannot expect. The poem ends with an acceptance that pleasure cannot last and that death is an inevitable part of life." 

And here's the thing...Keats composed this poem in one day after a nightingale built its nest near his home. Specifically, he wrote it in one day of May, 1819 - the same month and year in which Queen Victoria was born. 

The rest might be me just grasping at straws but the connection to Queen Victoria's birth is what I find most convincing, since Yana has seemingly already sourced Cedric's first name from literature in 1819. I think the setting/plot of the novel 'Ivanhoe' and her name choice of 'Cedric' reveals a lot about Undertaker's past and his motivations, and I think the same could hold true for his last name. I am convinced his name is Cedric K. Rossignol.

God only knows what the 'K.' stands for.

Thanks for reading! My ask box is open and I'm always happy to talk about this stuff. You can find a masterpost of my Black Butler theories here - they mostly revolve around medieval French/Breton literature, French history and French Christianity.

[mswyrr]

Death is the Original Green Witch and she is tender, soaringly romantic, gallant, stunning (something about how they styled Aubrey in the final eps was so ethereal?? guh!! Though I also genuinely dig Rio's skull face) and queer af. That is CANON baby.

[togetherness23]

fizzling fireboxes (lol. lmao even)! I thought my art was slogging compared to previous years due to sometimes lacking the motivation to create. However, when I looked back at my gallery, I found that when I had my highest peaks (ie made the best art pieces), they were soaringly high and unique. A lot of the older pieces still hold up very well and I’m happier than ever for it! I think I pushed hard when it came to color experimentation and rendering this year, especially with bright colors. I hope to continue in this direction and remember that productivity isn’t everything— sometimes, it pays off to just say ‘what if I did this?’.

January • February • March • April • May • June • July • August • September • October • November • December

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[somestorythoughts]

Some Immortal Parker

Alright, lets try writing some more of this:

Parker enjoys it when technology changes, specifically when security measures changes. A security change means a little more danger, because it's new and she has to adjust and whether that's a problem depends on more than whether she expected the change, but they're also fun. A new safe or lock or laser grid is a challenge, and Parker loves a challenge.

And like many people with passions, she retains a fondness for security systems that have gone out of style. Well. It's mostly for old safes that haven't been made in decades. There's definitely times when she looks at someone's security measures and thinks "if you wanted to keep this money/diamond/gold-and-ruby-bracelet safe you should have updated five years ago."

Technology just changes, so much, and she's at the top of her game and having fun with it.

She's happy with what she's doing now. And she works alone, because she's not good with people and she took the lesson of being left for the cops the first time it came and never took that risk again. The few times she works with people after that, she plans multiple escape plans.

It takes her a while to stop planning her outs when she starts works with the team. The first time she catches herself planning how they would escape, her entire body stalls. Eliot looks over when the movement in the corner of his eyes then nudges her out of it and doesn't ask questions when she says she's fine.

She's not sure what to do with that realization.

Later she realizes that she'll outlive them, and it will hurt.

She's heartbreakingly, heart-soaringly relieved to find out they're as immortal as she is.

[urlocallesbiab]

for a long time i couldn't settle on a precise timeline of when exactly do dirk and todd each fall in love and then realize the feelings, and what do they do about it, and now i think some things have finally clicked into place

for dirk, it's the instant he meets him. it's a nebulous feeling then, somewhere between boundless excitement about a new friendship and a giddy crush, too large and joyous to be fully examined and understood; it simply is, and it's fuck-off happy.

throughout the next few days, he gets pangs, deep and fluttering and breath-catching pangs, when todd agrees, helps out, acts brave, accepts, when todd chooses him, despite everything; but it doesn't fully settle until that day in the woods. they're so close, having actually great time, side by side; they nearly die together; todd's hands are soft on his face — and it washes over him, crystal clear, decisive, as he sees this man stand before him in full light, open and honest and ugly and trusting and raw, the truth simply reveals itself to dirk: "i am in love with this man. i love him."

but still, it's more of a friendship to him at that point; having a friend is so new, incredible, mind-blowing, and todd's platonic affection is so dizzyingly tangible, and "i am your friend" is everything dirk could have ever wanted in his entire life. he is perfectly, absolutely happy, and honestly doesn't wish for anything else.

then he's alone; he's alone for quite a while, and he begins to want. he fantasizes about what he can't have, and since he can't have anything, he thinks about everything — his desires reach further, encompass more; the dreams grow more frequent, more tender, closer. "he's perfect" with a hopeless, breathy, utterly-in-love edge to it.

and finally they meet, and god, the want does not go away. s1 is a crush developing into a bright, sure love, and s2 is love developing into a lovesickness; s2 is when dirk pines. he casts yearning looks after todd; can't help but think, forlornly, unthankfully, "oh, but what if he kissed me. what if he kissed me. oh, please, please"; reaches out to catch todd's hand and never does; puts space between them, bristle and brittle and too-close-to-something; hopeless. he gets awfully drunk, professes undying love, makes out with todd harder than he ever did in his whole life, and in the morning pushes it all away and under the rug; it was all magic, wasn't real, didn't count — not in the way dirk wanted it to count. and then altogether too many awful things happen, and he mostly worries about that.

when todd is back by his side, it is such awesome undescribable joy, there's no space for anything else; they're alive, alive, alive! and they scramble to stay alive quite a bit, after that. when dust and horror and otherworld strings settle, it's neither peaceful acceptance nor painful longing; dirk is happy, warmly fully brightly soaringly happy, and also hopeful. he wants some things for himself. he's not fully sure how to go about that, but he does, and he will.

***

for todd, there’s not a certain moment of falling; it's all a mess, frankly, a whirlwind, an ugly mix of apprehension and annoyance and hatred and trust and excitement and lies and truth; it's too much to think about. he doesn't have a perfect understanding, or a good label, but he does have a ratty t-shirt, a dry mouth and a swoopy stomach, determination, and some earnest words. "i'm here because i'm your friend," — whatever it might mean between them. it means everything.

then it's even worse of a mess, despair, sleepless nights, running, chasing, some shapeless feeling haunting him, some vague suspicion rising in his stomach, restless, a romance growing and snapping, settling into a soft "lets not talk about it", some vague suspicion tensing in his chest and lungs, something, almost; and then, somewhere inbetween seeing dirk in the middle of some fucking field and losing his mind with delirious glee so badly he just screams, and making an indignant face at the question of "you blew up life for this?" (what, like he wasn't meant to? like there ever was another option? like there's any life worth living that isn't this?) — somewhere inbetween that, it becomes, suddenly and fully, so very clear. he is in love.

it's a simple feeling, one he doesn't examine, because there's not much to examine; it's bright as day, calm, steady, existing. he doesn't feel guilty about it, or conflicted, or pained: frankly, he's got more important things to worry about. he folds his hands around dirk like a hurt bird, gentle, careful, gives him space but coaxes him out, confronts but comforts him, plays their little jokes and gives their grand speeches, stays just behind and dashes forward, saves him, saves him, saves him, with all he's got. he speaks his mind for dirk, honest (almost; to the plea of "why, why, why—", "this is all for amanda" is a good lie, an almost-truth, stable, a reasonable choice). he does, with all his heart, the right thing.

even when they kiss, he almost doesn't feel guilty — if he scrunches his eyes real hard, he can nearly convince himself that it's all magic's fault, that things happen, that dirk has (should have) probably forgotten, that it's alright; that he shouldn't bother his best friend with all these weird feelings when dirk's mentally struggling and that he won't, that it's okay, really. soon enough, he's got much worse things to worry about; and much worse things to actually feel shameful over.

when dirk swoops back to save his life, radiant, this gets maybe a little bit harder to control. it's still devotion, steeled, forged, but maybe a little more fervent, with grasping touches and unchecked decisions and unfiltered words; affection spills out of him, unbound, bold, feverish, when he looks dirk in the eyes. it's unclear whether dirk sees it or not; it doesn't matter at all.

they emerge utterly victorious. they celebrate, and hold each other, and todd doesn’t have the space anymore to pretend that he would choose anyone, anytime, over dirk. the future before them is unpredictable but so hopeful, so promising, and he feels alright, truly, actually alright; and his inhibitions feel maybe a little bit cracked under the exultant weight of everything, and especially dirk's hand. he'll figure it out, he guesses. honesty is the game.

and i don't know yet what'll happen in my version of s3, but that’s for Sure the season where they confess and get together, though not without drama, obviously — a lot of drama, as is due.

[csmistcres]

continued from here ! | @soaringly

it felt like one minute they were discussing his case, and before they knew it the bottle of the finest whisky was poured into matching lowball glasses, the case long forgotten. a distraction was needed, so he wasn't complaining whatsoever. david and harvey were enjoying themselves. reminiscing about harvard and beyond. the good, bad. the ugly. not a care was given to anything happening on the other side of the glass paned walls of the law firm. not that there was much going on anyway. all they knew is that it was well after dark. his husband was working a graveyard at the hospital. david takes a gulp of his drink before placing it on the coaster on the table in front of him, a sigh escapes his lungs as he looks to harvey sending a sympathetic smile. “ i am a firm believer in second chances. you have made mistakes, so what? everyone makes mistakes. you just have to let yourself move on from them. don't live in the past, especially if you can't fix it." he had mistakes too. so many times he wishes he could hit a redo button. “ i have faith in you harvey.”

[adiantum-sporophyte]

never feel so soaringly masterfully intuitively socially skilled as when I intermediate between my parents

I see undercurrents you are blind to! I deftly slide a boardwalk under where you were about to really put your foot in it! I understand both what you intended to say and how the other person will hear what you said, and using my marvelous skill I bring them to be one and the same!

[agentnico]

Wicked (2024) review

Look, I’m not gonna be one them sods who makes a “this is a wicked movie” jokes. Nope - I won’t succumb to that level. Just don’t look at my Letterboxd.

Plot: Misunderstood because of her green skin, a young woman named Elphaba forges an unlikely but profound friendship with Glinda, a student with an unflinching desire for popularity. Following an encounter with the Wizard of Oz, their relationship soon reaches a crossroad as their lives begin to take very different paths.

I recall my wife really wanting to see the original stage production for her birthday, so I took her to the West End show and it was alright. Fun songs and a great production, but I have never myself really cared for all things Oz-related. Especially with Wicked, which essentially feels like a Harry Potter-riff with the primal location being Shiz University, that might as well be called amateur Hogwarts. Mind you, when I made this observation, my wife snapped back “oh my god, it’s almost as if all wizard schools have to be Harry Potter related!!”. I get it, Wicked has a humongous fan base and this movie is going to make so much money. It’s actually crazy to think that we may be having the most strongest box office thanksgiving in a long while, with Gladiator II, Wicked and Moana 2 all releasing one week from each other. However Gladiator II in my eyes was a major disappointment (except for Denzel!), Moana 2 we shall see, and as for Wicked? Well…

I wonder how many audience members are going to get pissed off when they find out that this is a Part One? I’m aware that when this movie project was first announced it was mentioned that it was a two-parter, but in the marketing there has been absolute zilch about two movies, so I’m guessing some casual moviegoers are gonna be like “what in the f***?!” in the screenings. However speaking of the two parts, the original stage production is about 3 hours long. Now take this - Wicked Pt. 1 happens to also be nearly 3 hours long. Yet it finishes at exactly the part where in the original play the intermission happens. So I’m totally bamboozled as to how they managed to extend the first half of the play into 3hrs, as me and my wife both agreed that the story beats are pretty faithful to the original source material. So I must give props to this film’s pacing, as you never really are bored and the events that transpire play out with solid energy from beginning to end. That being said, you totally do feel the run time. This movie is long, so thank goodness they split the movie in two. Heck, should have made it a trilogy of films, cause if we look at The Hobbit, Peter Jackson and his team managed to make three major motion pictures out of a tiny little children’s’ book!

The narrative isn’t the only element that stays faithful to the stage musical, as also all the songs are performed in nearly the same way. It’s really common in Hollywood productions to change-up/modernise songs from stage to screen, yet here with Wicked they keep the same spirit, so it was lovely to see them be respectful to their origins. Also let’s not lie - these songs are absolute bangers. Me and my wife were listening to the soundtrack on the drive back and having the absolute best time!

Let’s talk about Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande. Look, I’m going to base my thoughts sorely on their performances within the film, and not judge them on their real-life issues, whether it be Grande as a homewrecker (it’s times like this I’m happy to have my wife, as she spills all the goss) or with Cynthia Erivo’s online hysterics over the edited Wicked poster. In the movie itself though these two are fantastic. Cynthia Erivo’s voice is just something else, and I recall when I first saw her in the thriller Bad Times at the El Royale back in 2018 where she solo performed “This Old Heart of Mine”, and I knew she was going places. Now as Elphaba she performs those songs with such soaringly raw and vulnerable emotion, that it truly is incredible to witness. Those of you who are familiar with the original stage production, just you wait till you hear her belt out “Defying Gravity”. If you know you know. As for Ariana Grande, the only time previously I’ve seen her act (aside from SNL) was when she cameo’d as herself in Zoolander No. 2 as the latex BDSM orgy girl. Take that information as you will, but my point is I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing her acting chops till now. As Glinda she really riffs of the spoiled Mean Girls energy, and I must say she managed to really deliver a fun and comedic performance. There were some solid laughs in my audience during some of her bits. Also, I know we’re never supposed to comment on people’s physical selves these days, but I’m genuinely worried about Grande’s health. We can see every bone in her body, and her face looks drained of all life (and it’s not simply due to her no longer wearing fake tan) - just hoping she’s okay. But yep, performance wise solid stuff, and in fact the movie’s best scenes are when Grande and Erivo share the screen together, as they both have wonderful sisterhood chemistry. Jonathan Bailey as Prince Fiyero brings some real Chris Pine energy with charm and charisma a-plenty, and Peter Dinklage made for a loveable goat. However the rest of the cast left room for more to be desired. Michelle Yeoh feels really miscast as Madame Morrible, as her ‘performance’ came off more as if she was reading lines of a teleprompter - so wooden and flat. Jeff Goldblum as the Wizard of Oz goes full Goldblum which not much else to add. And Ethan Slater as Boq was a waste, as Boq in the original play is the main source of comic relief, however in the movie he was so bland and boring. But I guess he was on set mainly to entertain Ariana Grande - oh yes we went there!

Here’s a strange one though - the film feels as if Kevin Feige and the MCU were in charge of making it. It’s a common conversation how most Marvel movies have a very digital bland look to them, and the company’s approach to colour grading (or lack of) makes for really cheap looking final products. Well Wicked looks like a Marvel movie. The world of Oz is supposed to be the goat when it comes to overly vibrant and saturated sets and aesthetics, and yet the world in the film looks like it does have colour, yet has this greyish filter over it that makes it look bland and kind of ugly. I do also think that director Jon M. Chu struggles a little with directing massive big crowd dance sequences, as most of those scenes in the film seemed really messy and disorganised, almost as if it were a school production.

I found myself to enjoy Wicked way more than I expected, mostly due to its two central female performances, the great soundtrack and a surprisingly energetic pace for a 3hr long movie, but also I can easily knit-pick the other weak cast performances, the dull-looking cinematography and direction. As a date night movie though me and my wife had, and yes I’ll say it - a wicked time! See you next November for Part Two!

Overall score: 7/10

[gointothevvater]

9 for the ship prompt!

Nathan voice: You got it! 🖤 .

Though he was busy setting his cufflinks in place, Charles stopped to look up and disbelievingly ask, "You're wearing red?"

The gown was a sheer floor-length thing, beaded and shimmering in the light of the many lamps littered around the London flat. It looked like Murad's work; St. Cecilia was a big fan of his designs. "I thought you liked when I wore red," she replied. She sat on the ottoman beside the front door, carefully buckling the ankle strap of one of her soaringly high heels.

"I do." His cufflinks now secure, he sat beside her. As small as the ottoman was, though, he had to sit quite close to her, his thigh pressed to hers. Her Cherry Smoke perfume made his head spin for a moment. "But you don't." "Well, your tie is red." With her long nails, she struggled with the tiny buckles, and she eventually tossed her legs across Charles's lap. "We need to match, don't we? I can't clash with you!"

He was more than happy to help with the buckles, and as he did, Charles said, "You look beautiful, if that makes you feel better."

St. Cecilia laughed, grabbing his tie to pull him close. Against his lips, she said, "It very much does." Her lipstick was red, too, and it was likely smeared over his mouth now. He didn't mind.

[summonerengaged]

The response is almost immediate, while not thinking about what the words were.

“Oh, happy Valentine’s to you too!”

And then the wish of a happy holiday settled in her brain.

“Wait, did I seriously forget Valentine’s Day?!” She paps her cheeks, hazel eyes staring down where she was floating. “I guess all that time in the bracelet threw me off time wise, it’s February already?” 

She remembered celebrating a holiday similar to it back in Askr, and Valentine’s even existed back in her world, so hearing the familiar title was a change of pace.

“I would’ve gotten you guys in the army something, it’s just that gifts can’t touch me...”

‘hang on, what’s happening?’ -summonerengaed, for Rosado

meme     ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ♡     @summonerengaged id. :  rosado

" what do you mean : ' what's happening ' ! " when she doesn't react , he huffs & places hands on his hips , " well , don't worry about it , i guess ! it's only the most romantic time of the year ! "

rosado usually prefers his all outfit in all black , with little pops of colour ( that match the strands of his hair ! ) to accentuate the fit . however , it feels intuitive to switch it up today . with the commissioned help of a seamstress , the bows on his top , the straps on his thighs & the PLUSH BOW in his hair are all a deep velvet red . to tie the look off , he's adorned a red crystal pendant at his neck -- very cute , if he's allowed to say so himself !

he really , really does love valentine's day . it's really just an excuse for him to tell all his friends how much he loves & appreciates them , without them feeling too weird & put out about it ( apparently , they don't really just ... randomly do that around here ? ) . anyway . " oh , i'll guess i'll be the first to say it then . happy valentine's day , kiran ! " he blows an air kiss at kiran's translucent form .

[deathfavor]

what does your heart look like?

molten lava and charred flesh

Your heart burned so fiercely that it burnt itself out, leaving horrible scars in its wake; scars inside your chest and on the hands of those who touched you, the hearts of anyone who got close enough to connect to yours. The person you are now is no longer recognizable, burnt up by your own anger and passion and love. The injuries can never be fully erased, but they can be soothed with time and trust and forgiveness

a compass that doesn’t waver

You are someone who is certain of what you want. Maybe you always have been, or maybe you made a discovery that you haven’t been able to tear your eyes away from. Your heart is set and certain. You fight endlessly for your goals. Above all else, you know who you are and what you are trying to achieve. Just be careful not to tear yourself or others apart in pursuit of your ideals.

a bird struggling to get loose

Your heart can never hold still. It pounds against your chest frantically, always turning your sights to one thing after the next. When was the last time you were certain? The last time your life was stable? Maybe this is how you prefer things. On the move constantly, not tied down to one person or place. You chase one goal after the next. Can you ever really feel complete without a place to land? Shouldn’t you build yourself a nest?

a compass that doesn’t waver

You are someone who is certain of what you want. Maybe you always have been, or maybe you made a discovery that you haven’t been able to tear your eyes away from. Your heart is set and certain. You fight endlessly for your goals. Above all else, you know who you are and what you are trying to achieve. Just be careful not to tear yourself or others apart in pursuit of your ideals.

tagged by: @ofsavior​ ( thank you! )

tagging: @shackld ; @sortilegii ; @furiaei ; @ofgravitation ; @soaringly ; @prxenuntius​ ; @barrenstars ; @lendmeyourpower ; @unmachine ; @undescension​ ; @ashrifts​ for multimuses do either the ones you have the most muse for and/or ones you wanna show off more <3