#and the male protagonist was cursed centuries before the main events of the story in his frankenstein-like endeavor

[harrowscore]

the fact that i had accidentally created a similar magic system to full metal alchemist (with even a similar motivation for the male antihero - that is, bringing someone back from the dead, with horrifying consequences) before i even watched one episode of the show is extremely funny to me ngl

[alexcutecolly]

The Tenor

Greatly inspired by that anon asking about preds putting on a musical number before eating their prey, I wrote this short story!

Warnings: some cursing, fearplay, unwilling g/t vore, uncaring pred.

Mainly NSFW vore accounts DNI!!

Words: ~2.1k

°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°

Your head feels heavy as you start regaining consciousness, your vision all blurred and confusing before your eyes focus on your surroundings.

“Mhhh?”

W…where am I?

It looks like you’re in the backstage of a massive theater. No kidding, every single equipment around you is gigantic compared to your size. The curtains are still closed, and the dark engulfs everything. The only exception being a single, big reflector casting its beacon of light before you.

Looking down, you realize you’re all tied up to a chair of your own scale.

“Uh???” You can’t move an inch, and any attempt at budging is vain; plus you can feel the ropes almost digging into your sitting form.

W… what happened? I was waiting in a queue to buy a ticket for Mr. Biggs’ next performance-

“Is… anyone there?” you call out, your voice resounding in the seemingly empty room.

“Oh! There you are! It took you longer that I thought to wake up!” a booming voice breaks the eerie silence, coming from above but behind you.

“U-uh?”

This voice-

“The Titanic Tenor…? Mr. … Mr. Biggs? Is… Is that you?”

He chuckles, moving from his previous position to face you.

“That is me indeed~”

“Mr. Biggs, w-what’s going on? Is… is this a joke?” you ask him, doing your best not to make a puppy-eyed face as you look straight at him.

“Oh, not at all! You see… you’ve been randomly picked for an unique, extraordinary event involving the one and only me!” he exclaims, putting his arms out with theatrical emphasis.

You raise an eyebrow.

“Ooookaaaay…? Aaaaand… Why does it require me to be bound to a chair, in dim light, in the backstage?” you question him, wriggling a bit in place.

“Oh it’s rather simple.” He grins menacingly.

“I’ll give you 60 seconds to escape. If you don’t make it, I’m going to eat you. How’s that sound?”

“W-WHAT-“

“I won’t repeat myself. The ropes are tight. I’m just sure you’ll come up with something” he says, keeping the same excited grin.

“But- this is absurd!!”

“Oh yeah it is! Absurd, that I haven’t done this before!”

You gulp nervously.

“And in the meantime, allow me to perform a cavatina dedicated to your despair only. It should last for the perfect amount of time as well.”

“B-but wait! Why do you want to eat me? I’m just a random spectator from your usual audience! Also… Aren’t tenors supposed to play the heroes, the good guys in operas? Not that we’re in a play right now but-“

“First of all. Although you’re technically right, there are some interesting exceptions in 19th century plays where the tenor plays the bad guy, and the main male protagonist/hero is played by a baritone. Just check out Giuseppe Verdi’s ‘Rigoletto’, so you’ll know what I’m talking about” he responds, moving his hand in the air as to shoo your doubts away.

“And for the reason why I’m so eager to make a meal out of you… Why can’t I? Shouldn’t I enjoy a snack every once in a while?”

“You can’t be serious-“

“Ta-ta, less complaining and more working on those ropes, or the only symphony you’re going to be listening to in a minute will be my belly’s. C’mon, the play is starting!”

“Just wait-!”

“Oooooh~ oh my dear preeeeey~

You should’ve walked awayyyy~

From the moment you feeelt

Your impending dooooom~”

The giant tenor is ignoring you now, his back turned to you as he starts to sing his malicious song.

Great, just great. You sigh.

So you begin wriggling and struggling, with your hands doing their best to release your wrists first.

Shit, he wasn’t lying about the ropes being tight, you think with a grunt.

“… And whaaaaat

are you going to doooo

once you’re all settleeed

inside my guuuut~… ”

Ugh, shut up.

His eyes meet yours, when he turns around as he continues with his mocking cavatina. He licks his lips for just a moment, causing you to flinch and look away from him.

Clenching your teeth, you feel a small wind of relief when you finally manage to untie one of the knots. The ropes feel a little loosened now. You don’t stop, and keep insisting on the other knots. Thankfully, it seems there’s only one remaining.

“… 20 seconds… is all that’s leeeeft~

Before you’re plunged

Down into my chest~…”

You curse under your breath, your sore fingers now attempting to undo what remains of the thread binding you to the chair. It’s all been wrapped around you, which makes it even harder to make it come off.

Eventually, you pull the rope and it finally releases you from your sitting position, and that’s when you toss it away and run for your life.

But that’s when you realize…

Wait… I’m not on the ground! He placed me on a fucking table!! Or… Is it a… stage?

“Was… was there not an escape route the entire time?” you ask yourself, horrified at coming at your conclusion.

“Nonono, there has to be one-”

“Oh my dear prey~

Your time is uuup~

And now you will be

Miiiiiine~”

He lets out the last word with a nice, prolonged High C before approaching, rubbing his hands together at your sight.

“Wait, nonono, I refuse to be eaten!” you say, standing up to him with your fists clenched.

“Oh c’mon sweetheart, you’ve had your chance. Now, give up and accept it.”

“’My chance’ your ass, you’ve tricked me! You made me believe I could run away in safety, but… How was I supposed to get down from here?” With a stern look you point at the edge of the table, which is at least 3 feet in giant size.

The tenor sighs. “Gorgeous. The actors aren’t supposed to leave the stage until the curtains are pulled! Don’t you know that?”

“B-but… we’re not in a play right now.”

“Says who?” the opera singer asks rhetorically, grinning from ear to ear.

!!!!

“Y-you didn’t correct me before! When I said the same thing!”

“I didn’t, yeah. Aren’t you happy, though? You’ve been promoted from mere spectator to main acting role!”

“A-as if this is what I was waiting in line for! I’m- I’m done with your stupid game!”

“Oh yeah sure, feel free to complain to the big boss if you’d like, then! And that is…”

He does a little twirl, turning around before doing a theatrical pose with his arms stretched out wide.

“ME!”

“…”

You have nothing else to say. The situation is already crazy enough for your understanding. Plus it feels so demeaning, it’s like your mind is detaching itself from your body.

“Anyhow, I hope you’ll behave now. Because…”

He leans forward with the usual wicked smile plastered on his face. You instinctively take a step back in fear, looking up to the famished giant.

“You’re going to be the spotlight of my lunch.”

You shake your head. “N-no please! Have mercy!!”

“And I will! Plus it’s not like you’re going to die, you silly goose!” he says loudly, reaching out towards you with his large hand.

You almost dodge his fingers, but they manage to grab the back of your jacket at the very last second. And so you’re lifted up in the air, wriggling in the caging fist of your captor.

“Ha-have you taken into account the fact that maybe I just don’t want to be eaten by you?” you wheeze out as you attempt to free yourself from his grip.

“Oh, I have. I just decided not to care.”

He raises you above his head, his lips slowly parting to reveal the teeth and the inside of the maw.

You shake your head again, as to wake yourself up from this terrible dream. But when reality sinks in, all left for you to do is a desperate attempt at reaching for the fingers that are holding you up in the air.

Though Mr. Biggs doesn’t waste any more time, and he drops you right into the wide, very welcoming opening below.

Letting out a scream, you land right onto his spongy tongue. Covered in saliva already, you cough and immediately try to slip away towards the front, but the giant keeps you in place by pressing you even more into his taste buds with his index.

“MMMMMM!!~” the tenor hums loudly, rubbing your body up and down to get more and more of your peculiar flavor. And you must taste amazing, because more and more pools of saliva are accumulating fast all around you.

After a while though, he retracts the finger to close his mouth and seal you inside. As soon as the light goes out, the muscle underneath you pins you to the palate, unperturbed by your struggling; and as if it wasn’t enough, it brushes against you tirelessly to gather even more of your taste.

In the end, there’s nothing that doesn’t make you feel like you’re being sucked onto like a tiny piece of candy.

On the outside, the giant can barely contain his appetite. Oh, to have a feisty snack like you before any of his shows!

Once he’s grown tired of having you stuck to the roof of his mouth, he starts swirling you around, moving you from cheek to cheek. His continued humming makes the whole damp cave vibrate, which you’d find even soothing in a totally different situation. And it only gets worse when he picks up the snarky song he was singing before, his purring another way to taunt his poor victim.

Having fun with your part, morsel? I can keep going for as much as I like-

All of a sudden the alarm on Mr. Biggs’ watch goes off, reminding him of the incoming performance.

Humpf. Nevermind, I guess. Almost forgot about that, he huffs, quite annoyed to interrupt his vicious snacking.

Welp. Every story must come to an end, sooner or later, after all. What really matters is enjoying the ride, right~?

And that’s when he begins to tilt his head back.

In the inside of his maw everything shifts incredibly fast. Not that it has was all peaceful up until this moment, but if you were laying horizontally on his tongue just a few seconds ago, now you’re sliding straight towards a new dark chasm- his throat.

“N-no, wait!! D-don’t swallow!!” you shout, wiggling and doing the best way you can to hold onto something- anything-, that prevents you from falling into the bottomless pit in the back.

But with all the fleshy interiors coated in saliva, your hands hopelessness slip, slip and slip. So you what you actually manage to accomplish, is to just stare as you pass through the hellish gate and go down the hatch.

*GLK~*

The tenor gently presses his big hand to his neck as he feels you travel down, deeper and deeper inside of him until you disappear behind his collarbone.

“Mmmmm, I needed that~ some entertainment before the great show, you know?” he speaks, as if you could actually listen to him.

The descend towards his stomach is tight. So so tight. It’s giving you claustrophobia. The heat is unbearable, and you’re not even in the main chamber yet. His heart is hammering somewhere very close to you, undeterred to your despair. And when you’re finally released in the stomach, it feels like your troubles are over for the moment.

If Mr. Biggs is true to his word, you’re going to be safe. For a while, at least.

…

Hopefully.

“Aaaah~ That hit the spot~” Mr. Biggs sighs, feeling your small but filling presence inside his belly. He smirks at your puny wriggling, rubbing your spot with more glee than annoyance.

“Mmmmm, don’t be shy and struggle more if you’d like~” he says, poking his middle again in hope to get more active reactions from you.

“In the meantime, the rest of the audience is waiting for me for the real play! Make yourself at home, you’re definitely not coming out for the next few hours~” he says, chuckling to himself.

Before going back to his dressing room though, he gathers the tiny chair and the discarded thread from the stage - more like a table to him - ‘borrowed’ from the non-giant singers and musicians. Thankfully nobody has walked in during the events that have just transpired, or that’d have been pretty weird - if not embarrassing - to explain.

Oh well, you think, getting more comfortable as you crawl up to the nearest stomach wall to lay against it. Your eyes growing heavier from exhaustion and the excruciating warmth.

At least I’ve got front row seats to a free performance.

[miragablog]

Madoka Magica isn't a deconstruction

As a subject, Mahou Shoujo is, in my opinion one of the most misunderstood and yet widely adopted genres in anime.

Being a regular fan, you can know about its presence like that of Super Robot and Battle Shounen- and yet have no insight into its role as one of the eldest genres on the scene.

Many viewers simply don't find interest in watching a feminine, almost voyeuristic take on dramatized child adolescence, which is totally fine. (Doesn't make you any less of a fan of the genre either if you’re of the male persuasion and aren't there for those themes. All power to you!)

However, when it comes to analyzing such genre steeped shows, like that of Sailor Moon or Little Witch Academia- those without the wide understanding for which their structures are based can make unfair or miscalculated conclusions of what those stories communicate.

This is the exact quandary that Madoka Magica poses for such analysis and why I don't consider it a deconstruction of the Magical Girl genre.

Mahou Shoujo, or Magical Girl is a term assumedly coined by that of Mitsuteru Yokoyama and Fujio Akatsu-ka, creators of Mahoutsukai Sally and Himitsu no Akko-chan; firsts of the genre, bench marking its creation in the early 60’s.

(I say “assumedly” as I can't find anything divulging the cut and dry fact. Hit me up if you have the actual source with citation.)

The genre has many subsets, but for the sake of your time we’re going to focus on the most popular and prolific of the Magical Girl Sub-genres, Magical warrior. There are some key components that make a show “magical warrior”.

1.) Have the protagonist or other female characters gain/have the ability to transform into an alternate, enhanced version of themselves.

2.)The presence of a magical companion, whether that be a animal or object that accompanies the protagonist in her magical endeavors.

3.)Items that assist in either the transformation process or battle for the protagonist

4.)An adversarial force threatening the lives of the protagonist, their friends, society and or existence itself

Its is of note that while a transformation is a must for this sub genre, the other factors can be all present or sparsely.

In Cardcaptor Sakura for instance the main character, Sakura Kinomoto doesn't traditionally transform but rather changes her clothes. However she still uses a magical item, is accompanied by Kero and works towards a goal that threatens the lives of those around her or her way of life.

(Arguably Sakura's “transformation” is just that because she transforms her mindset when changing outfits to better suit her magical endeavors.)

Along with those structural linchpins, Magical Warrior-centric shows are known for their glamorous, long-winded transformation sequences, teenage leads, handsome love interests, revealing outfits and normalized use of cute, bright and feminine iconography.

On the subject of how Madoka supposedly “deconstructs” these shoujo conventions common to the genre, with its “dark” tone and DEATH and despair- it simply doesn't work because modifying elements of a genre and subverting audience expectations doesn't mean your critically taking apart the framework.

But you must be asking by now “well Mirage, if twisting elements of a genre isn't Deconstruction then what is?”

Jacques Derrida was an accomplished french philosopher of the early 20th century. You can see his fingerprints all over, influencing how we study subjects embroiled in the arts and social sciences. He found that the meaning many authors and scholars claimed to see in stories were inherently arbitrary or transient.

Generally speaking, Derrida’s theory of deconstruction, (or post structuralism) deals with the mental form of which meaning takes- form. Although we perceive meaning in a text such as, let's say Evangelion or Welcome to the NHK- such meaning isn't structurally sound. A lot of deconstructive analysis focuses on the words and language we use in describing- communicating those thoughts and how they are, in their own form- failures.

Tim Nance has a fantastic video on explaining in laymen’s terms what the act of deconstruction is, I highly suggest you pop over and listen to his video. For now I will simply relay that of his points on the process of which someone deconstructs a text.

Find meaning

Identify tensions

Identify the ways that those tensions seem to be unified by meaning

Deconstructing the tension

Then unity falls apart

Then the meaning doesn't mean anything anymore.

So a Hypothetical; Hameru is chasing Kyuubei down a corridor.

Cornering the demon rat creature, she pulls a gun from her shield.

Before Homura can muster the greatest of head tilts, Kyubey yells “Homura, no matter what you do magical girls and their wishes cannot exist without the creation of witches and their curses!”

However Hameru being the dimension-skipping cynic we all know and love doubts this, arguing that “you can't know the intent of which causality occurs, Incubator. You may think that being a magical girl ultimately means being a witch but you can't know that for sure because hope is not guaranteed to falter to despair.”

Kyubei asserts to Homura that its is impossible for witches and Magical Girls to not exist together through the Cycle of Entropy, forwarding their meaning in the knowledge perceived. Homura then identifies the tensions of such a statement, and their unity.

She understands that Kyubei believes the two to be omnipresent however questions if it's necessarily true, stating that hope doesn't necessarily need despair.

By deconstructing the tension, the structure of Kyubey’s statement falls apart and loses its meaning.

When I refer to Madoka as not being a deconstruction, its as a genre deconstruction. Instead of words, we cut down to a set of trappings and conventions that cement the subject and go about playing those elements as they would in the real world, then commenting on the genre as a whole.

While undoubtedly Madoka uses the ingredients of Mahou Shoujo, it doesn't necessarily comment on the way in which those trappings are when deconstructed. Rather it simply changes the shades of pink and white to purples and blacks.

It points out that the form the genre is known for is problematic and pushes the shape of events to a far darker place. But it doesn't take that point any further than that, focusing rather on its themes of selfishness vs selflessness.

In the case of deconstructing the genre what conversation does that start?

If it was as deconstructive as people claim, Madoka would’ve elaborated more on, lets say its themes of utilitarianism through Kyubei or Feminism regarding the witches as a whole.

Madoka has a female cast, a mascot character, transformation items and weapons, a cosmic big bad and trucks full of cute, fairytale imagery paired with its stark depictions of despair and death. It's not an outlier for its themes but rather the boundaries it's willing to push.

I think this issue is less of a problem with the show and more its fanbase. Madoka isn't deconstructive, its subversive, turning the expectations of common viewers upside down. (Again, note i’m saying subversive and not subversion.)

When ads started popping up on social media in 2011, not many people were expecting anything other than that of the “standard fair”. They were fairly innocuous, toting typical character slates and a new ClaRis song. Nobody seemed to care all that much outside of magical girl trash like myself. Then when fans of the genre saw the cool direction the show was heading as it aired, they shared it with others. Eventually a swath of anime fans Came to sing Madoka’s praises.

But as the internet is, when communities started coming together to dissect the show somebody threw the word deconstruction into the mix and now we’re here.

One thing people bring up in defense of the deconstruction argument is that Madoka features a collection of irrevocable character deaths, not recouped by the power of friendship. And while this is technically true I don't understand what makes this qualify as deconstructive. Many of the deaths in Madoka end up just as friendship fueled, and arguably less meaningful in context of the multiple universe dilemma.

For better or worse you get it; But still may be asking- what's the problem with Madoka being considered a deconstruction in the first place?

This is a rather daunting question because while it seems to be a non-issue, it affects not only the way we perceive deconstructions but that of the shows titled as such.

I want more people to get into Magical Girl-centric anime but those who label Madoka as superior to that of its predecessors stop potential fans from being created.

Believe it or not Mahou Shoujo is a much more flexible genre than it looks, capable of tackling difficult themes like that of abuse, love, identity and growing up.

Saying Madoka is contrary to the genre as a whole rather than being a darker take greatly limits what Magical girl as a concept is able to be. It harmfully obscures the shows that have celebrated and deconstructed the genre while simultaneously denouncing the messages they convey as “frivolous girly redundancy”. And that's the last thing Mahou Shoujo is.