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#heaven has no favorites

tamsoj · 2 years

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How clumsy you get as soon as you’re really in love! How the veneer of superiority drops away. How alone you are, and how all the skills of experience evaporate! You go about in a fog making nothing but mistakes.

Erich Maria Remarque, from Heaven Has No Favorites

#remarque #erich maria remarque #heaven has no favorites #on love #on loneliness

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khruschevshoe · 3 months

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There's something to be said about Heaven Sent/Hell Bent, despite the Doctor overthrowing the Time Lord Council and spending four and a half billion years in the confession dial and him and Clara and Me meeting at the end of universe, therefore technically spanning the longest time span, being fundamentally the smallest in stakes of any of the modern Doctor Who finales. At the end of the day, there is no threat to earth or the galaxy or the universe or reality. It's just about two people and the way that they turn each other inside out and the way that they reflect each other as two sides of the same coin and the way their relationship was always going to end this way- with the flip of the coin, spinning in the air, each trying to override the other, each trying to take control of the story, each haunting each other forever.

It's under my microscope. It's rotating rent free in my head. It's everything good about Moffat's writing- fairytale vibes, wrenching character work, two characters that thematically parallel each other- and none of the bad, because he's not trying to be too clever or fuck with the rules too much, there's a couple of simple concepts played straight to their inevitable conclusions: Clara Oswald needs to die but the Doctor can't let it happen, he wants her to forget but she can't let it happen, so they both will do the most devasting things in the world to stop the other and they both get their way in the end but only in a way that will leave them haunting each other forever.

And it's so fucking good.

#also the music SLAPS #i have had “a duty of care” playing in my head over and over again for the last couple of days #twelveclara #listen twelveclara has suddenly become my favorite companion pairing tied with tenmartha and ninerose #doctor who #clara oswin oswald #clara oswald #heaven sent #hell bent #whouffaldi #twelfth doctor #listen i still have my moffat hang-ups but this episode convinced me #i UNDERSTAND how his doctor who works now #i get the vision #don't always agree with the execution but god when he nails it he NAILS IT

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taizi · 2 months

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gently in the cold dark earth

scum villain's self saving system word count: 2k canon divergent / no system au; sy transmigrates into an empty npc role; gray lotus binghe loves his shixiong more than life and he's ready to make it everyone's problem

title borrowed from work song by hozier

read on ao3

The first thing Luo Binghe does when he escapes the Abyss is return to Cang Qiong Mountain.

With Xin Mo secured to his back, the way could be instant if he so chose—the journey of a thousand miles reduced to a single step—but he unsheathes the elegant jian at his hip instead.

Yong Liang sings sweetly for him, the snow white blade still shining and untainted even after years of helping Luo Binghe carve his way through hell. It has never once failed him, soulbound to the one person still on this earth who has never failed him.

“Take it,” his shixiong insisted, low and urgent. The Abyss was behind them, an even deadlier threat was ahead, and Without A Cure clogging his meridians made Luo Binghe the best choice to wield the only unshattered spirit sword they had between them. “Binghe, take it.”

He pressed until Luo Binghe’s grip curled tight around the hilt, not hesitating to put his soul in Luo Binghe’s hands even with the rosy glow of an unsealed demon mark shining on his face.

Luo Binghe flies at a pace best described as dangerously reckless, hardly smelling the fragrant spring air or feeling the sun on his face. His robes are a disgrace, his hair a tangled, matted mess, and it occurs to him that he could stop somewhere and clean himself up, make himself presentable, but it’s a brief, fleeting thought.

Shen Yuan would be furious to find out that Luo Binghe wasted even a single second returning to his side.

——

He passes through the ancient wards effortlessly, feeling them fall away from him like water. It’s a simple thing to tamp down on his demonic qi, to disguise the parts of him that those so-called righteous cultivators would scorn. He ghosts through the familiar grounds as eagerly as a starving animal bolting down a fresh game trail, but one by one, all of their familiar haunts come up empty, without even a lingering trace of Shen Yuan’s spiritual energy left behind.

The head disciple’s room is dusted and undisturbed, as if its occupant might walk through the door at any moment, but the lack of clutter and the empty book shelf makes it very clear to Luo Binghe what the truth must be.

If Shen Yuan returned to the peak after the Conference, he didn’t stay.

All at once, images crowd the front of his mind—his shixiong grieving, pulling away, turning his back on those responsible for his heartache.

Yue Qingyuan, always only a step behind wherever his precious Xiu Ya sword went, promised that no one wanted to hurt them. They only wanted to help.

He looked so solemn and righteous that Shen Yuan reluctantly allowed himself to be convinced. Luo Binghe, who had gone to the man for help after a bloody whipping when he was a child, only to be given a walnut cake and turned away at the door, knew better.

He wasn’t surprised when Shen Yuan was wrenched away from him, and shizun sent him staggering off the cliff with a spiritual dagger buried to the hilt in his chest, all of it happening within a matter of seconds—but it still hurt.

Shen Yuan’s scream followed him all the way down.

I’m alive, Luo Binghe thinks, with no one there to tell it to. I came back to you. Let me come back to you.

——

Including time spent in the abyss, it’s three years before they meet again.

Luo Binghe’s revenge is his second priority at best, but he is nothing if not efficient and knows how to kill two birds with the same stone. Huan Hua affords him ample resources and opportunities to scour the world for his missing shixiong while playing the role of earnest and diligent new disciple. He snatches up each mission that comes along as though eager to prove his worth to the sect that so graciously took him in, but he takes every excuse to wander, to search, to make conversation with vendors and innkeepers and passing strangers.

Have you seen my heart? It lives outside of me in the form of a beautiful young man and tends to wander. Very contrary, likes to fuss over people, could argue the stripes off a lushu just for fun. You’d know it if you met it. You’d never forget.

The days blur together, meaningless and gray, but he doesn’t stop looking. Shen Yuan still exists somewhere in this world, because otherwise Luo Binghe wouldn’t. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.

And then, finally—an afternoon in Jinlan City, when Luo Binghe arrives in a throng of incompetent gold-clad Huan Hua disciples, to investigate a plague of all things—

He’s there.

In dark, neutral colors and plain clothes, a traveling cloak with its hood resting down around his shoulders, as if his beauty could possibly be lessened by cheap, shapeless fabrics rather than effortlessly enhanced. His hair falls from its half-tail in glorious waves—he never did have the patience for anything elaborate, only wearing braids when one of his sticky shidimei cajoled and convinced him. Traveling alone, who could he possibly have to roll his eyes at and complain about and sit patiently still for?

A pale green ribbon is all that decorates his hair. Luo Binghe recognizes it instantly.

“You should spend your allowance on yourself, Binghe,” Shen Yuan scolded him, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.

“But I did,” Luo Binghe protested, widening his eyes and clasping his hands earnestly, the way he knew worked best. “I wanted it! And now that I have it, I want to give it to you.”

Shen Yuan was too clever by half to be truly fooled by the innocent act, but he always folded like paper anyway. He spoiled all of his shidimei but Luo Binghe most of all. Anyone on Qing Jing Peak would be hard-pressed to think of a single example of Shen Yuan telling Luo Binghe ‘no.’

Sure enough, after a second spent visibly wrestling with himself, he blurted, “Oh, fine! Hand it over.”

He wore it every day since. He’s wearing it now. The wind catches the ends of it, sending it streaming behind him like the tails of a paradise flycatcher. Lovely.

For a brief moment, Luo Binghe is frozen where he stands, finally faced with the very thing that he’s been missing for years, that he’s been living a miserable half-life without.

And then he remembers himself and lurches forward. His voice is a tangle in his throat but he manages to choke out, “Shixiong!”

A strike of lightning couldn’t have jolted Shen Yuan into more perfect stillness. He stops mid-step, every inch of him as good as carved from precious jade. He doesn’t turn his head, and the sliver of his face visible from where Luo Binghe stands is very pale.

Luo Binghe wonders suddenly if this has happened to him before—if Shen Yuan has heard a voice on the road or in the market that was almost familiar, that was almost the one he was hoping for, only to be disappointed when he turned to follow it and found a stranger.

Luo Binghe shortens the distance between them with a few anxious steps and tries again.

“Shixiong.”

The older boy whirls around abruptly, as if to get it over with. He’s bracing himself, but Luo Binghe barely has a second to absorb Shen Yuan’s painful-looking anticipation before it bleeds out of his face in favor of something else entirely.

He looks like the earth has fallen out from beneath his feet, like he hardly dares to believe his eyes. Zheng Yang gleams golden at Shen Yuan’s hip, reforged and whole again.

“Binghe?”

“It’s me,” Luo Binghe says softly.

There’s a tableau he’s afraid to break, as if they’re in a delicate dreamscape and a move too sudden or loud might dissolve it. He wants to say I’ve missed you the way lungs miss air, immediately and needfully, I haven’t breathed at all since we’ve been apart. He wants to say you’re my light in the dark, I can only stand in front of you now because I love you too much to ever truly leave you.

Instead, he tells his dearest friend, “This one made you wait. But your Binghe is here.”

Shen Yuan sprints the rest of the way to meet him, almost before he’s even finished talking, and they collide in a solid embrace that knocks the air from them both.

His arms wind around Luo Binghe’s waist like steel bands, fingers digging into the back of his robes, precious face pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Luo Binghe doesn’t hesitate to gather him up close, holding him as tightly and securely as he knows how, burying his nose in his shixiong’s hair and breathing in the familiar, beloved smell of him.

Shen Yuan is a few inches shorter than he remembers. All the better to tuck him beneath Luo Binghe’s chin, to cover and surround him so completely that not even the heavens above can get a decent eyeful.

He wants to grab and bite and pin Shen Yuan beneath him and never let go. His jaw aches with wanting it.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Luo Binghe says, eyes wet. “I went home first.” Unsaid goes the obvious but you weren’t there.

“How could I stay?” Shen Yuan bites out, managing to sound all at once strangled and bewildered and—charmingly—offended. He shakes his head without lifting it, an aggressive nuzzle against Binghe’s shoulder. “After what they did to you, I’d rather die than represent their stupid sect another minute.”

“Step away from it, Shen Yuan,” shizun said coldly. “I’ll put that beast back where it belongs.”

“No,” shixiong said in a voice that was smaller than usual, one that shook. He was frightened, clearly overwhelmed, but he didn’t budge from where he was plastered in front of Luo Binghe like a breathing shield.

“Now.”

“No, shizun.”

“Shizhi,” Yue Qingyuan said gently, offering his hand. “Come here. It will be alright.”

Shen Yuan said, “No. You can’t hurt Binghe. He’s not bad just because of who his parents are. He’s as good as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. He’s hardworking and loyal and a sweetheart to anybody who gives him half a chance. He’s so good.”

Liu Qingge was behind the sect leader, sword drawn. Shen Qingqiu was quickly losing what little patience he had, face twisted into a sneer, dark eyes stabbing hatefully at Luo Binghe from over his head disciple’s shoulder. There were more figures rapidly drawing closer, the other peak lords following the flare of Yue Qingyuan’s qi. The standoff was becoming more and more untenable, and Shen Yuan was too smart not to see that, shrinking back against Luo Binghe as much as he could without crowding him closer to the edge.

“You can’t hurt him,” he said again, the closest Luo Binghe had ever heard him come to tears, “he’s my shidi.”

Luo Binghe is unsurprised by his shixiong’s loyalty, because it’s already been proven to him over and over. It’s unremarkable at this point, which is an absolutely remarkable thing in itself. It makes him feel warm with gratitude and affection and ownership.

Shen Yuan is clever and quick on his feet and always three steps ahead, more knowledgeable about flora and fauna than anyone else Binghe has ever known combined, and probably a force to be reckoned with as a rogue cultivator, where the only rules of conduct he has to adhere to are his own.

But Luo Binghe hates to think of him on the road alone, without the little martial siblings who follow him like ducklings, without his Binghe there to make sure he remembers to eat all his meals and comb out his hair before bed. He’s a creature of comfort, made for airy rooms with too many cushions and an abundance of sweets and books to read.

Luo Binghe has fantasized more than once about building a home for Shen Yuan to lounge prettily in. It was, in fact, his favorite flavor of daydream since he was about thirteen.

If Shen Yuan wants to rogue cultivate, then that’s what they’ll do. But Luo Binghe thinks, if he constructs a palace that’s as comfortable as it is grand, and fills it with trashy romance novels and obscure beasts and his own hand-made meals, he can convince his friend to live in it with him.

Shen Yuan needs to be taken care of. Luo Binghe needs to be the one taking care of him. They’re together now and they’ll never be apart again and those needs can both be met.

That possessive, proprietary feeling coils dark and deep inside him, undulating lazily like a serpent who’s fed enough for days, reminding him over and over what he already knows:

Mine.

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #bingyuan #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen yuan #my writing #svsss fic #sy transmigrates into a blank role in a world where his favorite character exists #and he's supposed to - what ? NOT fulfill his personal fantasy of being lbh's best friend ?? ok 🙄#naturally binghe has been obsessed since the moment this pretty boy first smiled at him #bingbing i love you you deserve a good shixiong / future wife and i'm here to deliver #ALSO sy's sword name is (yǒng) meaning perpetual ; eternal ; forever #and 亮 (liàng) meaning bright ; clear ; to show ; to shine #in my mind's eye zheng yang is golden so yong liang's silvery white is the perfect compliment #YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO THE SUN & MOON SHIP DYNAMIC 🫵#heaven and hell were words to me

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my-name-is-apollo · 2 months

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This now happens to be one my favorite passages about Apollo:

However, the Megarians later dedicated a golden plectrum to the god, paying attention, as it seems, to Scythinus, who so speaks about the lyre: (the lyre) "which the beautiful-faced Apollo, son of Zeus, harmoniously tunes up, connecting the beginning and the end, and the light of the sun he uses as a shining plectrum."

- Plutarch, On The Pythian Oracles (C1st to C2nd A.D) quoting Scythinus (C5th to C4th B.C) (trans. Andrei Lebedev)

#Apollo #if anyone is interested #this is about the cosmic nature of Apollo's music/lyre #there are many reasons given by greco-roman authors on why Apollo was considered the sun god #and my favorite one has to be this #that Apollo harmonises the heavens just the way the sun harmonises the world #also Scythinus describes time as first and last of all things and that's what apollo is bringing together when he tunes his lyre #the intersection of Apollo's solar and musical nature my beloved #anyway I'll stop infodumping here #and maybe make a separate post talking about this in a bit more detail

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muzzleroars · 2 months

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God is Gnostic Demiurge?

MY YALDABAOTH BIAS IS SHOWING!!! i would say that's a fair comparison though - because ultrakill introduced the idea that lucifer fell due to his protest of hell and its torture of humanity, he is much more in line with satanael imo his rebellion is not due to his sinful pride in believing himself fit for god's throne nor his refusal to bow to humanity, but rather in protest against the perceived cruelty of god toward his own creation. i think the key difference is that the god of ultrakill cast out lucifer in panic - already being consumed with guilt and regret over creating hell, it completely breaks him to hear those anxieties spoken from another separate from himself. because we know god wanted it destroyed, we know he considered it a mistake by that point, but for some reason could not unmake it. this eats away at him, and so is unbearable when lucifer asks about it. he can't destroy it. it cascades into a very complex emotional distress imo, because lucifer's small question represents so much of what has been twisting inside of him and has now found its way into the mouth of one of his creations (his most beautiful even). his imperfection is revealed in his regret, his limited power laid bare in his inability to undo his mistake, how he would have done as lucifer asked if he could, how his error has become so blinding that even the angels made in service to him question it just as he does. there is anger in god at lucifer for speaking, for questioning, but there is so much despair, so much pain, so much loss in casting out lucifer. yet god makes the snap decision to preserve the illusion of his perfection over keeping lucifer by his side, meaning he definitely transitions into a much more demiurge figure at that point - no one else must question him, he cannot afford to lose a single other angel and add to his crushing pain while also in part using this to prop up his own beliefs of his flawless, limitless nature. his ego couldn't take another lucifer, but the damage had actually already been done.

#more in line with the au but i basically see it as god literally rejecting his own love #that his view of himself and keeping what he has is more important than maintaining his love #and so he goes all in on destroying lucifer's name and memory in heaven #and if he can do it to his favorite creation he can now do it to any of them #cake answers

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imperialstark · 9 months

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WHICH WITCH ON THE GREATEST HITS ALBUM LIKE GOD INTENDED

#NO BC THIS COMPILATION HAS ALMOST ALL OF MY FAVORITE FLORENCE SONGS #RAHHHHHH #florence and the machine #under heaven over hell

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tamsoj · 2 years

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In love there is never anything to forgive.

Erich Maria Remarque, from Heaven Has No Favorites

#remarque #erich maria remarque #heaven has no favorites #on love

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convolutedblasphemy · 2 months

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Alastor: a complex, unpredictable person whose charm as a character is that the audience can't predict for sure how he's going to act and what his arc is going to be, could go any direction, lies, schemes, contradicts himself, the whole point is that he's this mysterious player who makes us wonder about his true intentions

Twitter, apparently: Alastor is pure evil, unredeemable, there's no good left in him, he's incapable of changing for the better or becoming morally grey because he's a one-dimensional violent psychopath, he is incapable of caring about anyone but himself, all of his friends are just entertainment for him, he's going to betray us and become the big bad and then we fight and kill him, i know this because of my black and white understanding of fanfiction tropes and this would be 1000% more interesting and in line with a show about redeeming demons in hell rather than some boring shit like humanity, complexity and inner struggle. But we're gonna redeem Valentino, because that's gonna show 'em haters.

#like can we at least try to acknowledge that we do not know where they're gonna take his character #you'd think a character who's obviously a fan favorite and has been a part of the main cast for this long would get better treatment #than being killed off as a one-dimensional evil whose only motivation is power #i definitely don't think he's gonna go to heaven #but i do think there's more nuance to his emotions than 'evil; does not care about anyone but himself'#and 'he'll want to become a better person and go to heaven :)'#hazbin hotel #hazbin #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor

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sakurapika · 4 months

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(*TGCF Novel spoilers ahead!)

Lately, I've been listening to EPIC: The Musical, and the new song "Get in the Water" makes me think of the Beefleaf Arc. On its own, the song is a real banger, but there's an extra layer of drama if you imagine He Xuan singing lines such as:

"I can't go letting you walk/or else the world forgets I'm cold"

"Don't mistake my threats for bluff/You have lived more than enough" (referring to Shi Qingxuan's time as a heavenly official?)

"Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves"

The whole song will be out soon, and I'm so excited for it!

On a happier note, the song "Crowd of Thousands" from Anastasia fits Hualian perfectly. The song is basically about a boy who saw a princess at a parade once and hoped to find her again--sounds familiar, right? I acted out the song with my Hualian minidolls the day they arrived in the mail, haha...

Please let me know if you've listened to these songs and what you think! (And if anyone has made TGCF edits with these songs, please let me know, I'd love to see them!)

#beefleaf is my favorite ship after hualian #and yet here I am #remembering the beefleaf arc #correction: my favorite ship after fangxin guoshi x hua cheng #lol if you've seen my previous post #epic the musical has some outstanding lyrics in general #tian guan ci fu #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #beefleaf #he xuan #shi qingxuan #hualian #hua cheng #xie lian

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