#anyways look at my color diverse sons

[intotheelliwoods]

Playlists are here!!

Poptart Bops <- <-

Sprout Sounds <- <-

Big Leo Beats <- <-

[sgcairo]

Which element would pantalone use as a delusion?

Ohohoho, now this is a question I can get behind!

Listen. Listen. I know we love purple Pantalone. I know we love the idea of him having an electro delusion, and I know it's sexy, but hear me out. Give me one chance, I promise I can make this make sense, just let me propose-

Hydro delusion Pantalone.

Now, this might seem a little strange, a little out of the blue (heh, get it?), but let me explain. Liyue is a center of commerce, a nation based on the transportation of goods and the value they hold. Water transports goods, hence has quite a bit of value in itself, by proxy. Without water, these goods would have to be transported less efficiently over land, god forbid by air, have you seen the balloon prototypes in Teyvat? Those things are not flying, and anyone who is foolish enough to use them will learn their lesson pretty quickly. So the sea is the main route of transportation, which basically means: water = mora. That's point one.

Point two is easy: Water can be both ferocious and discreet. Water can be a tsunami, washing everything away, or a leak that you find just a moment too late. Water is dangerous, it hides its true colors under a comforting and familiar mask, luring you into its depths with the false sense of security that you are safe, as long as you can find the surface. But, what you don't consider is that once you're in it, you're at it's mercy. It can play tricks on you, convince you to swim deeper while desperately searching for the light that will lead you to the surface, to air. And you don't realize until it's too late. By then, you're already dead. It looks so innocent, so easy to tame from a boat, but once you're in the water's domain, you are its captive. Sound familiar?

And to wrap things up, with the triple shebang, a hydro delusion would be quite the diverse weapon. It can technically make any shape, can sneak poison into a drink without suspicion, and can quickly adapt to any situation. Much like Pantalone, who in my mind, is quick to adjust to a new circumstance, even if he has grown a little complacent with his current wealth and power. But a hydro delusion serves as a reminder of his past, of how hard he worked to fit in to his current body. Water also erodes stone, an indirect jab at Morax, who never "gave" him a vision. Even if that's not how it works, but nobody tell him that.

I think it's fair to say that hydro would suit him well. I might be a little biased, but I quite enjoy the analogy of water seeping in the cracks for Pantalone's methods of getting what he wants, you don't realize he's won until it's too late. But that's just me.

As for how he would use hydro, I have some guesses. A rapier has always suited him well, in my mind, but making daggers out of water that you can fire in masse is an indispensable tool, especially for someone as powerful as Pantalone. Poisons are also an excellent example, with enough dexterity, Pantalone could implant it as he wants in the drinks of his opponents- a little trickle of poison climbing the edge of their cup would be hardly noticeable, and easy to pass off as a little spill. It would take some practice, but I think seeing alternative methods that the elements can be used in Teyvat would definitely be interesting!

For those Babytorre lovers out there, it also matches with Danya's pyro delusion- Pantalone can put out his fire easily, and keep him safe as need be. This may be an analogy for his stifling protectiveness over his son, who could possibly know, but I'm a sucker for thematic opposites, especially when it comes to family dynamics.

Anyways, this was kind of short, but I think short and sweet is perfect for this. Hydro delusion Pantalone for the win!

[cinnamonsikwate]

ah-HA finally I see someone talking about the Talokan world building! One thing that I haven't seen anyone mention is the specific shade of blue the Talokanil turn into on the surface, but I think it's supposed to invoke Mayan Blue! The wiki article on it is (in my uneducated opinion) pretty good, but one thing that stood out is that human sacrifices to Chaac were painted that color, which is just, so profound. The detail of this film, ugh!

I discovered this when I was trying to find symbolic colors that other people would turn into if they joined the Talokanil. It was for a plot bunny that I will likely never catch, but a pre-Black Panther K'uk'ulkan saves a dying N'Jadaka by giving him the Talokanil Herb after mistakingly thinking N'Jadaka was the son of a Talokanil. I thought Haint Blue (a Gullah shade believed to ward off ghosts) would be a good ironic choice for N'Jadaka, but I'm not sure if a color so heavily associated with the American diaspora would be a good choice for a Wakandan like Shuri ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Yes, I partially made this ask to plug my prompt lol. I'm disappointed that not many fanfics are doing the world building that the Talokanil deserve! Instead they're just being treated as people who sometimes go in the water at best, or invoking racist Native tropes as worst. But I loved your detailed post about their clothing! You did an amazing job at researching! Now, if only Ryan Coolger and the crew would release the 200-page bible they wrote about Talokan...

hello and thank you for this ask!

tbh i didn't look up much regarding maya blue when i wrote the clothing analysis posts, but after doing some reading, i definitely agree! many of the scholarly articles on maya blue focus on its chemistry rather than its cultural significance, but the reason researchers find it so intriguing is its near-indestructibility (sánchez del rio et al. 2011, 453-481), which i think ties in neatly to the talokanil ability to self-regenerate.

this passage from arnold et al. (2008, 151-164) is particularly interesting:

when the shaman was trying to convince fen to drink the liquid, we see someone holding what looks like an incense burner in the background. we can take the talokan plant to be a stand-in for the indigo plant, and the vibranium that it contains as a stand-in for palygorskite (a clay mineral). so all three together = maya blue.

the idea that the zamá people were sacrificing themselves for chaac's protection? damn???

anyway. i LOVE your prompt! it's very thought-provoking. i have had somewhat related idle musings, mostly because i'm not sure how realistic it is for the talokanil population to have ballooned to beyond-the-grass-of-wakanda numbers from only a handful of founders in a span of less than five centuries. i like to think that at some point they were regularly rescuing people from the surface, adding to the diversity of their gene pool and also bringing in new customs and technology.

several questions arise though: how long were they doing this, who did they rescue, and how wide was their geographic scope? we know at least one talokanil extra is afro-indigenous; the kids shuri meets in talokan aren't credited on imdb but they looked a lot whiter to me than the other talokanil, so the actors may be mixed. aside from razing haciendas and plantations on the mainland after that first time, would they also have rescued people from the trans-atlantic slave trade? would they have swum around to the pacific and rescued people from the manila-acapulco galleon trade?

which brings me back to your prompt and has me asking more questions - would chaac's blessing cover someone who is not one of his people? is conversion a prerequisite? although the idea that anyone — from indigenous americans to africans to filipinos — can become talokanil is interesting, because would that mean they'd have communities within talokan where they continue to practice their cultures? how would their different worldviews affect how they see and treat k'uk'ulkan? and — would they still be maya blue or would they take on a color more connected to their original culture? if they do take on different colors, haint blue for n'jadaka does sound pretty fitting (especially since it also uses indigo). as for shuri though, since she didn't take the unmodified talokan plant, should her skin color still change?

if i had the stamina to write fic, i'd have run away with this prompt, but unfortunately i don't, so let's put this out there and hope someone takes the bait! (fish pun intended)

i do occasionally come across fics (usually of the shipping variety) that i think do a pretty decent job of world-building, but they tend to focus on the present-day customs of the talokanil and less so on their early years (which is what i'm more interested in). i do dearly wish we get to see more canon talokan lore soon, but if ryan coogler is not involved somehow, idk if i can take it lol.

again, thank you so much for taking the time to read my meta, and i appreciate your engaging with me!

p.s. according to hannah beachler, the talokan guide is 400 pages!

[weakforarwen]

Sometimes I think the actors are the saving grace of the show, especially the main four. Somehow, in the face of repetitive plots & sometimes wooden dialogue, they managed to give it their all which made people tune in every week. I know that heaps of love was poured on Colin & Bradley for literally carrying the show, but the real credit has to go to Angel Coulby for enduring the racism and misogyny in the toxic fandom with the grace of an actual queen.

I think Katie was very charismatic, and that was her saving grace in the first three seasons. In the beginning, whenever she had to show distress or anger, she wasn't great at it, to say the least. In the season 3 finale, for example, when she found Morgause's unconscious body, her pain and fear were very unconvincing. She improved quite a lot in the last two seasons though. In seasons 4 and 5, her disdain, anger, and coldness were played with this wonderful vulnerability that gave Morgana a lot more depth than the lines she was given.

As for Bradley, he was great in action scenes and very charismatic. He was just one of those people everyone likes, a natural leader. He was always great with Colin, and, imo, paid special attention to his scenes with Merlin. I think it was obvious he was closer to, and/or liked, Colin/Merlin better than Angel/Gwen. He probably preferred the manly bromance over the romantic scenes. In the beginning, particularly in season 2, Bradley was great in all his scenes with Gwen, and he gave great heart eyes. However, over time, he began acting colder. When he was supposed to look affectionate, he looked indifferent. In seasons 4 and 5, especially, he was inconsistent in his scenes with Gwen. He was great at showing anger, pain, vulnerability, and did wonderful work in episodes like The Changeling, Lancelot Du Lac, The Sword in the Stone, but he wasn't nearly as good at showing affection, softness, love. Compared to Angel, he sometimes looked so wooden: for example, in The Coming of Arthur or in his proposal in The Sword in the Stone. I also thought he wasn't emotional enough in With All My Heart, but his acting was subtle and perhaps that was a choice. However, when Gwen came back to herself his relief was just not there imo. Anyway, Bradley was particularly good in scenes with his father as well.

Colin was always good, in any scene, but, in the beginning, Merlin's goofiness was kind of off-putting to me. I grew to like him quite a lot in season 5, though. I think, acting wise, he was excellent, at his best, in that season. His acting in The Disir, for example, when he told Arthur to not take up the Triple Goddess's offer, or when he was poisoned and betrayed by Daegal in The Hollow Queen (RIP Daegal, I loved you baby), was excellent.

And our angel Angel, she was awesome too. She had really diverse facial expressions. She was always surprising me with the different faces she pulled. She was so expressive. She used her gaze so well and gave it her all in every scene. She shined the most in her scenes with Bradley, not necessarily because they had the best chemistry - she had great chemistry with everyone - but because she had many cool scenes with him that let her show off her range. For example, The Moment of Truth, The Once and Future Queen, The Witchfinder, for badass Gwen who put Arthur in her place; Goblin's Gold and a Servant of Two Masters for funny Gwen; The Changeling, Lancelot Du Lac, The Sword in the Stone for angsty Arwen; Sweet Dreams, His Father's Son, The Coming of Arthur, With All My Heart for emotional, yet less angsty Arwen... She was brilliant in Lancelot Du Lac, The Sword in the Stone and With All My Heart in particular. But she was great as evil Gwen too...

And yes, it must've been hard for Angel to have her screentime cut, her role reduced, deal with Merthur shippers, probably put up with a lot of behind the scenes bullshit - especially as a woman of color in the entertainment industry, or in any industry - and probably be paid less than Katie and disproportionately less than her male costars. I don't know exactly what she went through, or what Angel's like irl, but I can imagine she had to put up with a lot.

I think the entire cast was wonderful Acting can get boring, for sure, but they gave it their all until the end.

Thanks for the ask!

[jess-p-edits]

Happy Happy WBW! <33 So, Magnolia. Tell me about it please, because it sounded suuuch a fun country as a story element! I imagined that all of it's people love fashion, but how society there looks like there anyway? And how magic affected it, how they perceive magic? A country full of artists can be chaotic as hell lol but I love the idea. OH ALSO, is any aspect of it related to the flower magnolia?

Yesssss!!!! I would love to!!! Thank you for the ask!!! ❤️❤️❤️

(In my very first world-building draft notes, this was their flag. I will definitely make a better one some day, but visuals always look nice on long texts posts. Have an eye break before I ramble on forever lmao).

Obviously Magnolia isn't a totally homogenous culture and their population is pretty diverse with varied interests, same as any real-world country, but there is DEFINITELY a cultural emphasis on aesthetics, art, poetry, creation, etc. While some cultures have cornerstones of "hard work leads to success" or whatever, Magnolia has the philosophy of "your quality of life is greatly impacted by your environment. Let's make it as beautiful as possible", and with varying definitions of "beautiful" in the different regions of Magnolia. Also, yes, they are definitely viewed as the most fashionable country in the world! Even a more casually dressed Magnolian will look more colorful and put together than, say, your average Crestwall citizen. When they were invited to the cultural exchange by Crestwall, they had Met Gala-levels of dresses and outfits created for the visit!

Art and public works projects are very well-funded, and most of the artists who "make it big" have the cultural expectation of being patrons to other artists, architects, poets, etc. starting out. While differences are celebrated, there is a pervasive idea of "communal inspiration", the concept that interactions big and small may inspire someone else and that art is a product of your time and materials, but also the inspiration and support from the entire community.

Magic is hugely embraced in Magnolia! Instead of an "apocalypse", the Hour of Magic was viewed as the world itself evolving. Geographically, Magnolia was lucky to not have very many abyssal wealds, so monsters aren't much of an everyday threat for the average Magnolian. With magic to make life easier, Magnolians as a whole feel their civilization can focus on culture. Like that John Adam's quote: "I must study politics and war, that our sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy...in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry and porcelain.” Magnolia believes themselves to be at the apex of their civilization and with a strong Alliance with the other countries, they feel fairly secure. They are in their #tapestry and pottery era. 😎😎😎

I'm not 100% done developing their government, but my idea is that they have a royal family because that's just very romantic and they love that ✨👑🌹royal-core🌹👑✨ aesthetic, but any significant decisions are put to a popular vote (and I'm pretty sure their sovereigns are just flat out elected. So basically they are a democracy with the visuals of a monarchy (in the same way that modern readers love a good fantasy royal but are probably anti-monarchy irl.)).

"OH ALSO, is any aspect of it related to the flower magnolia?"

Yessss but not in the way you'd think!!! The deity that they worship is named Magnol. Magnol is known to be a very beautiful being no matter their form, so the Magnolia flower, and the country, was named after them! (I really liked the name as a country since it immediately evokes images of a very beautiful place, but I didn't want to use too many real-world influences. This was a way to sneak in our world's flower lmao).

Thank you again for the ask!!! Magnolia is probably my least fleshed-out country at this point, and they are definitely deeper than they appear, but I like what I have so far!

[azul-azure]

Every Episode of 911:Lone Star

Every episode of 911: Lonestar 

Cold open: A man is driving with his daughter. They are having an argument about a death in the family/divorce/politics. 

Daughter: You don’t understand me!

Man: I’m doing this because I love you!

Daughter: Stop it! I hate you!

Suddenly, a meteor falls from the sky and crushes the car.

911 Title Card

Grace: 911, what’s your emergency?

Daughter: The sky is falling! The sky is falling!

Roll credits 

Owen Strand arrives on-scene and speaks with Tommy Vega. We see a portion of Nancy’s elbow. She is never seen again. 

Mateo: Woah, what is that? (This will be his only line in the episode). 

Judd: That’s a meteor, we get them all the time in Texas. Hey, Cap! Bet you didn’t see any of these bad boys in New York!

Owen: Alright, Marker, Pawnstars, Macaroni! Get over there and pull them from the car!

They do so wordlessly. 

Owen: Alright, great job! See you next episode!

They vanish into thin air. 

Time skip. Grace and Judd are sitting quietly in their kitchen. It’s the best scene in the episode. 

Owen Strand knocks on the door. Grace opens it.

Grace: Oh, Captain Strand!

Judd: To what do we owe the pleasure?

Owen: Well, I’m dealing with a kind of…situation. 

Grace (did I mention she’s the light of my life?): A situation?

Owen: You see, I’ve been seeing this girl, and everything’s been going really well.

Judd: But?

Owen: Well, she’s a redhead, and I only go for brunettes. Or blondes. Black hair too, as long as she’s under the age of thirty-five. But…redheads? Anyways, I decided to bother one of my employees and his wife, who are both always home in the middle of the day despite having jobs that often require 24 hour shifts. So, can you help me out?

Judd (chuckles): Sure, Cap. You know I can’t say no to you. Literally, you could fire me. 

Time Skip

Grace and Tommy are sitting in her house having a wonderful meal. 

Tommy: Tell Judd I said thank you for watching the kids. It’s nice to have some girl time now and then.

Grace (unprompted): Want to talk about Owen for two hours?

Tommy: I would love nothing more. It’s not like we have anything better to do. 

Time Skip

TK and Carlos are in their apartment. Carlos has that curly hairstyle and he’s wearing glasses. He may only appear in this one scene, but users on Tumblr.com will reblog a GIF of him for the next week and a half. 

There’s a knock on the door. TK opens it. Guess who it is? Owen Strand!

TK: Hi, dad. Please, come in.

Owen enters the house. 

Carlos: Hi, Captain Strand. (This is also his only line in the episode, but he gives the performance of a lifetime because Rafa is insanely talented, he can do no wrong, and I’m in love with him). 

TK: What’s going on, dad? 

Owen: I’m having relationship issues, so I’ve decided to bother my adult son and his boyfriend in the middle of the night. 

TK: I see no problem with that. 

Time Skip 

Owen is on a date with a nameless redhead woman that we will never see or hear from again. Owen is clearly disgusted by her.

Owen: Look, this isn’t working out. 

Nameless woman: What? Why? Man, you’re making me feel like…(she peers at a piece of paper in her hand)…’Han Solo.’ From…’Star Wars.’

Owen: Woah, you know about ‘Star Wars’? A thing I like? Woman likes thing that I like? I guess woman really ARE people…Let’s stay together. I don’t care if you had red hair. All hair colors matter. See? This really is a show about diversity!

Credits roll. 

[invadernurse]

Catching Flies (revised) Ch. 5

Chapter 5: Stupid Obligatory Back Story

Overall rating: Teen

Summary: You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. That’s what they say anyway.

Teacher!Reader makes the mistake of trying to help the two most troubled kids in your class. This leads to forming a science club, learning some childhood psychology, adopting an alien older than you, and somehow catching Professor Membrane’s interest.

Non-binary Reader;

The reader does have a last name: Nemo– which means no-name.

First Chapter | Previous Chapter

Now on Ao3!

You decided you were just going to bite the bullet. You looked up at the teal-colored house before triple checking the address. This was the address that was listed as the Irken home.

It looked as eccentric as Zim himself, which did little to diffuse your worries. 

You swore the lawn gnomes followed you with their wide eyes as you walked down the sidewalk, but tried to shrug it off as paranoid and anxiety. You took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. No doubt this was going to be a very awkward, stressful meeting, but it needed to be done. Not just for Zim’s sake, but to calm the worry bubbling in your stomach.  

Something was very much amiss here, and you were going to find out what. 

It was only a few moments before the door slid open, and two gangly robots slid into view. The male looked like it was from the Nineteen-fifties while the female-like robot looked as if a toddler had dressed her with a pink tutu over her overalls. "Welcome home, son." They chimed in unison, staring towards the road with blank eyes. 

Before you could say anything, something small and fast came shooting out of the darkness and plowed into you, knocking you on the ground. "HI!" It screeched, leaving you rather flummoxed as you realized it was yet another robot but in a neon-green dog costume. 

"Gir!" Zim shouted as he and Dib appeared in the doorway between the two robots. You sat up, giving the boys a hard look as you sat in the dirt, Gir still clinging to you, and you weren't sure if he was hugging or trying to strangle you. 

 You looked at the robot's unsealing eyes that stood on either side of the boys, their fake smiles, and felt a pain in your chest. You looked at Zim, who was trying hard not to show how nervous he felt but failing. "What are those?" You asked, trying not to be accusing but open. Truthfully you feared the answer.  Things were clicking into place into a picture you had not expected, but close to the one you had feared. 

 "These are my one-hundred percent completely normal human parents!" Zim announced with absolute confidence while Dib could only face-palm, realizing how ridiculous the lie was. 

So that was why every time you tried to talk about his home life he shied away. And the fake answers and diversions you received when you tried to call. "...how long ago did you run away?" you asked softly and saw both boys' eyes widen in surprise before Zim covered his shock with anger.

"Zim never runs away! Invaders do not run away, they run to!"

Dib shook his head in exasperation and you could hear his faint groan muffled by his hand. You worried your lip as you thought, trying to decide which way to proceed was the best and least likely to cause an uproar. Granted, in this case there was probably no ‘safe’ question, so you decided to just plow ahead. "So your parents abandoned you too?”

That struck a nerve as Zim noticeably flinched. You even saw Dib flinch in sympathy. "I was...I was not abandoned, human scum!" he seethed, his eyes narrowing. "The mighty Zim needs no one!" 

"Can I come inside to talk?" You asked as you stood up, allowing Gir to drop to the ground, your mind whirling. No wonder he was the way he was. Desperate for approval but loner by nature. You figured even his odd personality quirks could stem from abandonment issues.

Your fears had been absolutely justified, making your stomach clench even more. No wonder Zim’s case had drawn you in, making you sympathize with him before you even knew how alike the two of you truly were. 

There was a scowl on his face and you were convinced he was about to say no when a nudge from Dib and a look somehow convinced him otherwise. Zim nodded stiffly before returning inside, walking past the two robots that turned and followed obediently. Dib waited for you, and stayed by your side once you entered. The place was a mess. Not just strictly speaking of the junk food wrappers and various things that littered the living room, but just the layout of the house itself. It looked like someone literally built the house with a vague idea of what a home should look like. You didn’t miss the lack of ceiling and exposed wires and duct work above you, or the tiles had notable gaps between them, with even more wires lining them like grout. 

Gir rushed past you, jumping into the couch and turning on the tv. If Zim noticed he said nothing, just as you said nothing about the toilet in the kitchen. There were only two chairs at the small table, so you leaned against it instead while your students took the chairs. The silence was only broken by the cartoons playing in the living room. Zim was trying to look at ease, though failing as he could hardly keep still. Dib was just staring at the table, no doubt expecting a lecture. 

No parents. No guardian. A house that looked like a poor imitation of what it was supposed to look. Three different kinds of robots that were far more advanced than you had seen before. 

What the heck was going on here? 

Were his parents scientists with just as odd of habits as their son? Did they create those robots to keep an eye on their son? Were they here, somewhere? Or had they left, deciding their child was in good hands? 

“So, what do you mean by asking if Zim was abandoned too?” Dib finally broke the silence, making Zim’s eye twitch.

“I told you, I wasn’t abandoned! You of all people should know that, Dib-worm!”

"I was in my first year of junior high when my parents...left,” you answered carefully. You hadn’t told anyone your story since you left the foster system, desperate to put it behind you and make something of your life. “Granted, it took me a month to figure out my parents weren't coming back. As soon as I was old enough to use a microwave, they would leave me for several days in a row. Then one day they simply never came back." 

It was a very brief and simplified version, but you didn’t want to dump your life history on these two. They were your students, little more than children. They didn’t need to know how evil and careless some people could be.  

You just wanted to let them know you had been in his place. You had once upon a time sat alone at a kitchen table, wondering why you hadn't been good enough for your parents. 

"You were able to defend and provide for yourself," Zim sneered. "They-"

"Zim," you interrupted, recognizing the same argument as your own when you were younger. How many times had you told your therapists the same thing over the years, trying to soothe away the hurt of being abandoned? "That may be how animals are, but not us. We have become the dominant species because we nurture our young. We teach them and help them until they can thrive, not just survive.” You forced yourself to pause and take a steadying breath, trying to bundle your emotions up once more. Once you were steadied again, you continued with a nod. “Granted, you have done pretty well for yourself, but it wasn't right for them to leave you all alone." 

"Are you going to report him?" Dib asked, with a note of what you believed was fear. "You know, to the police or whatever?"

Zim's eyes widened as he looked between you and Dib frantically. It was easy to see the fear and the panic in his eyes. And you knew that feeling all too well. 

You knew what you should do. What the law told you to do. But you had been through that and knew how horrible it could be. And Zim was already troubled to begin with. You could only imagine how it would affect him. 

You shook your head. "No, the system is too messed up. And Zim has been doing rather well." Except the waffles with mustard and sriracha sauce you just noticed, making you gag slightly. "But I do want to offer my help. You're not alone anymore, you got me on your side."

"I don't need your worthless help, human!" He rebutted angrily, though you didn’t take it personally. "I have survived on my own all my life! The mighty Zim needs no one!"

"Everyone needs someone," you added softly, pulling the spiral bound notebook over to write your contact information. "If, for any reason, you need or just want something, call me, text, whatever. Show up at my door at three in the morning for all I care. Just know you have someone on your side. Other than Dib." You gave Dib a smile, and he looked rather guilty, oddly enough.

"I don't need pathetic human worms on my side," Zim defended, though not as hotly as his earlier rebuttals. You weren't about to scold him for slipping into his insults; for one you weren't at school, and two the situation was rather… understandable. "What help could you be to me anyways?"

You shrugged as you pushed the notebook back towards him. "Meh, homework questions? Granted, your scores are pretty decent. Except for English and history." To be honest, you were sure his math skills far exceeded yours along with his scientific understanding. But his English and history scores were virtually failing. "Adulting questions like paying bills or how to cook a roast."

"Who wants to learn your primitive language and pathetic earth history anyways?"

You missed Dib’s warning look that he shot towards Zim and shrugged your shoulders, far too used to his eccentricities to question them. "Well if you used proper English and grammar, you might be taken a little more seriously." Which was probably the last thing the world needed, but you saw his expression turn thoughtful. "And those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

There was silence, and you considered your own words. Was this why you were so intent to help these boys? Because no one had been there for you when you experienced your own struggle. 

Perhaps. 

“Fine. I’ll accept your...assistance.” 

--+--

After you left, muttering to yourself about finding some simple cookbooks, silence hovered between Zim and Dib. 

"Well...that went better than expected." Dib finally said, looking at the notebook you had scribbled in. 

"They think that the mighty Zim was abandoned like some defective smeet!" Zim argued, gesturing towards the door you had left through. "I am a fully fledged invader! It's embarrassing!"

"You’re the one who took the disguise of a human child," Dib pointed out. "Besides, didn't your leaders banish you here anyways?"

Zim froze before the anger disappeared in a puff as he slumped into his chair. Dib found he regretted his words as Zim's mood became somber. He may be his enemy, but that was still a low blow that was uncalled for. "Well, before they got sucked into the floorpus hole, Dib continued, trying to sound upbeat. “That'll teach them to mess with you, right?" He had no clue if that would help or not, and for a long moment he was leaning towards 'not' as Zim stared at the pile of waffles. 

Suddenly Zim’s gloved hand clenched into his fist, a manic smile spreading across his face. "Yes. They will learn not to cross the mighty Zim! I will make them regret making me into a fool! Me! The greatest invader ever known! I'll prove that I don't need the Irken Armada to conquer this stinking planet!"

"That's-that's not where I was going with that,' Dib started. That was not what he wanted. He was supposed to turn Zim away from his world conquest, not encourage it. 

"You had a brilliant idea for once, Dib-human, don't ruin it!" Zim laughed maniacally. "We will take this festering stink hole and turn it into an empire! And we will use it to squish the so-called tallest for disrespecting me!"

Dib cursed to himself as he covered his eyes, hanging his head in his hands. He just doomed the earth. Again. 

-+-

Monday came and you wished it hadn't. You had been up most of the night, tossing and turning as you stewed about your decision. Had that been the right thing to do? Should you report it to Child Protective Services? Should you be more interfering than just offering help? But what if your colleagues caught on? What kind of trouble could you get in? 

The day proved to be an agonizing Monday with a little less than under four hours of sleep. Every single class was a struggle. You were half-way tempted to forgive Dib and Zim's detention for the day just so you could go home and sleep. 

Except you wanted to be a good role model. And read their essays that were due today. 

Both of your students were in the science lab, a stack of papers beside their belongings, talking in conspiratorial whispers. 

"Zim, where did you get those robots anyways? The price tags on those have to be in the hundreds of thousands." Your question was met with heavy silence am wide-eyes, causing you to sigh. "Please tell me you didn't steal them."

"What? No! I did not steal them, you stupi-" You glared at him, and he paused for a moment before trying again. "It's a stupid idea that I, the mighty Zim, would steal from pathetic hu-" Dib elbowed him sharply in the side, giving him a look as well. Zim growled in frustration. "Fine! No, I didn't steal them. Happy? I created the parent drones. And as for Gir, well, he was a...a gift." 

You watched him for a moment, trying to pick up any traces of lying. Except he was only pouting and grumbling under his breath. Dib looked as exasperated as you felt. But no trace of deceit. 

He...built them. Built actual, functional, robots. At his age. "How?" You asked as you slipped onto a stool across from them. "Where did you learn to do that?" 

He shrugged, "They aren't very advanced. I made them in less than a day for the last parent teacher conference, but it didn't... exactly go as planned." 

Dib snorted at that, "You mean you didn't plan for them to blow up half the cafeteria, rant about diarrhea, and poke that one kid's mom half to death?"

"Quiet! I acknowledge it didn't go smoothly, but no one was the wiser!"

You thought back to the two robots that were clearly, well, robots. How dense had their old teachers been if they hadn't noticed that? 

…

Just like every other teacher here, probably. Who also refused to see what was right in front of their faces. You sighed in defeat and turned to the other revelation. "Well there went the plan of doing stuff like baking soda volcanoes and the like." That was way, way too easy for them. It was probably too childish for any twelve year old, but it was honestly one of the few things you could think of. 

Give you a book to dissect the character's motives, plot devices, and symbolisms. The mechanics of grammar and punctuation. How to construct an engaging story. That you could do. Actual science? Not so much. 

"...what if we built a really big one?" Dib asked after a moment, and you could see a hopeful glimmer in his eye. "Dad banned me from making those when I was seven. I kinda miss them."

"...what exactly is a baking soda volcano?" Zim asked after a moment. "Some kind of weird Earth geology feature?"

You jumped to your feet, hope restored. "Perfect! Let's do it!" 

-+-

Why, why did you think this was a good idea? 

Less than an hour later, the lab was filled with enough foam to come up to Zim's knees, who was cackling as dramatically as possible as he poured more solution into a beaker. Dib likewise had a rather manic grin on his face as he took notes, trying to record which one of their concoctions created the most explosive reaction.

You were simply glad that there weren't very many chemicals in the lab to experiment with. You had to admit, the two had the 'scientific method' down. You barely had to say anything about recording and Dib had his notebook out, writing equations that reminded you of your college chemistry classes. 

What were these two doing in middle school science classes? You could understand their English was about on par, but math and science? They had to be well into the high-school level, if not beyond.

No wonder they were always getting into trouble. 

You glanced at the clock before sighing. "You two might want to wrap it up, you have to clean your…” just as you spoke, the contents of the beaker started to fizzle, and in the blink of an eye it was like a geyser erupting with white foam, splattering against the ceiling and raining down in fat globs. "Mess."

There was no answer other than both boys laughing, and Dib even offering Zim a high five, which made the other boy pause for a moment before hesitantly accepting the gesture. You were filled with pride at the moment, smiling despite foam dripping onto your head. 

"What did you say Mx. Nemo?" Dib asked after a moment, grin still firmly fixed in place. 

"I said it's time to clean up," you admitted. "I'll fetch the mop while you two put things away."

"...ugh," the smiles faded somewhat as the boys took notice of the mess they had left across both the tables and the floor. 

You slipped out of the lab just as they started to bicker about who had to clean what, and you hoped it was nothing more than that: friendly bickering. Hopefully when you returned with a mop and bucket, they wouldn't be at each other's throats. 

"You are completely ridiculous," a familiar voice sneered, making you look up as your smile faded. Boltzmann, one of the science teachers that had laughed at your idea of a club, had stopped in the middle of the hallway, obviously on his way out for the day. There was a scowl on his face as he took in your messy appearance. "You call that detention? I could hear laughing all the way back in my office!"

"They learned their lesson," you bit out, your cheerful mood disappearing in a whiff of smoke. "They've changed their behavior, so now is the time to reinforce their good behavior. "

"That's their parents' job, not ours," he snipped back. "I thought maybe you were halfway decent by piling all that detention on the pair, but now I see you're too weak to follow through with your punishments. Give it a few weeks and these brats will be walking all over you."

Your hands clenched into fists, "I have to disagree with you. Just because I care doesn't mean I'm a pushover."

You turned your back on him and marched towards the janitor's closet, only to hear the footsteps drawing closer instead of farther away. "No, the fact you care means obviously your as inexperienced as you look," Boltzmann continued. "You're faw more wide eyed and optimistic than I thought if you think you can change two brats like that. I've seen a dozen children like that, and believe me, within a few years they'll be skipping class and ending up in Juvie for…"

You snarled as you turned on your heel, "You know nothing about them! So just back off and let me do things my way!"

Instead of backing down, Boltzman rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Let me guess, the whole bad-home-life sob story. Mom's a whore and dad's a drug dealer? Half these children have similar stories. They're just like their parents, a hint of weakness and they'll exploit the heck out of it. You can't change them."

You were going to strangle him. Your fist shook with restraint, and you wanted nothing more than to feel his face crunch beneath your knuckles as your own violent tendencies bubbled to the surface. People like him were half the reason you had struggled so much in your own life. People whose hearts were cold as ice, making a judgment before you ever said a single word. 

"Just go," you hissed instead through clenched teeth. "Leave. It's none of your business."

It was easy to tell he wanted to argue more from the way he looked down at you, his lips pressed together tightly. Thankfully, he ended up rolling his eyes with a huff. "Whatever. You'll find out the hard way, and then you'll realize what a big mistake your making. You're just wasting your time and energy on those brats. You'll see, Miss Nemo."

He turned and left, and without thinking you flipped a very vulgar gesture at his back with a snarl. How dare he talk to you like that. How dare he talk about Dib and Zim like that! You were tempted to report him, except you knew absolutely nothing would come of it. If anything, Meyers would take his side. 

Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention, and you looked over to see your students in the doorway of the lab, their eyes wide and jaws gaping. You quickly dropped your hand, face turning bright red. "You two saw nothing!" 

"You just…!" Dib started off.

"Nothing! You two saw nothing!" 

Next Chapter

[mcwriting]

His Mobius

Lol y'all gonna hate me for this one but what can I say, I'm obsessed with this ship and slightly disappointed in the season finale.

Not my normal jam so sorry to those who only follow me for T. Holland content

Picks up where ep 6 leaves off. Don't read if you don't wanna get spoiled lol.

Ship: Loki vs. Mobius M. Mobius (one-sided)

Word Count: 1212

Warnings: it's sad boi hours in here y'all prepare to have your heart ripped out for a second; also spoilers

⏰

The color had drained from Loki's face as he realized what was going on when he stared at the giant statue of He Who Remains.

With the intense branching of timelines, Sylvie had kicked him into a random, newly-born universe.

He turned back to the man he knew-

No. He didn't know this man.

This was Mobius. M. Mobius, but not his Mobius. M. Mobius.

"I... I- I- I need a tempad, please," Loki begged the not-his-Mobius.

"Don't you have one? Wait- I'm sorry, who are you again? You never answered my question," not-Mobius said with growing suspicion.

He didn't know this Loki, or seem to know any Lokis at all, but he still knew to question guys who came up asking frantic questions and requesting other agents' tempads.

Loki didn't know how to answer.

For once he wanted to tell the truth, but there was no way he'd be able to explain things to this not-Mobius. He didn't have time. He needed to find his Mobius.

With a swift glance, he located not-Mobuis's tempad and with even swifter precision snatched it from the man.

"Hey wait!" he cried, but it was too late.

Loki had already punched in random numbers and opened a portal, stepping through into the unknown.

⏰

The yellow rectangle behind Loki closed as soon as he stepped through, and he knew that with all the chaos, he probably wouldn't ever be found.

As he got his bearings, Loki started to register the sights and sounds around him, along with the humid heat that made his already sweaty skin feel even stickier.

He blinked a couple times before realizing what he was looking at.

Somewhat.

He was in a rainforest.

"Midgard. This- I'm on earth," he muttered to himself, brows furrowed.

Back before the TVA, he'd spent years plotting his takeover of the planet. The Asgardian libraries had contained books filled with knowledge about earth's nature and climate systems, something he'd used to his advantage when planning where he wanted to rule from.

While he didn't know a thing about earth customs or technology, Loki could easily tell the difference between a chimpanzee and a capuchin, or explain how hibiscus flowers were great in tea.

The real question was when is he?

Loki looked at his tempad.

Manuel Antonio, Costa Rica. 2015.

It made sense. Loki remembered that the country was known for its lush landscapes.

There was no telling what universe he was in. He wondered if he could find someone to fill in in the 3 years since the battle of New York, if that had even happened in this timeline.

He took a look around. The foliage was bright green, and he spotted a toucan on a nearby branch. There was the occasional scream of a howler monkey echoing through the trees.

A few feet away, just past a few trees, was a dirt path. Signs that people had walked this trail many times.

Of course, a worry popped into the back of Loki's head that claimed a hungry jaguar had paced there as it looked for a meal, trampling the grass in search of prey.

His fears were quelled, however, when he heard faint voices nearing.

He stepped behind a wide tree and watched carefully as a man in a neon shirt led a family down the trail.

Loki spotted 5 kids, who all looked between the ages of 8 and 18. Interspersed among them were 4 adults who looked to be in their 40s or 50s.

At the back of the pack walked two older men. A shorter guy with snow white hair who looked to be in his 70s, and a taller one whose hair was very much salt-and-peppered, likely in his 60s.

The brightly-clothed guide was explaining to them all of the wonderful things Costa Rica had to offer, from its diverse flora and fauna to the beaches, mountains, and rainforests.

Loki was about to pop out from the wood and ask if this family could explain what the avengers were up to, or if they even existed at all here. He knew he would look ridiculous with his torn up TVA clothes but didn't care.

Finding Mobius was more important.

Before he could call out a greeting, he stopped dead in his tracks, blood running cold.

That voice.

He knew that voice anywhere.

The shorter old guy had cut in to make a joke to his family.

"I need to know where to get a jet ski around here."

Mobius.

That was him, but what was he doing here?

Loki felt weird seeing what it would have looked like for his Mobius to live on earth up to this point, assuming that the TVA variants of him had been plucked from the mid-1990s.

"Daaaad," one of the middle aged women groaned.

He has a daughter. Are those his grandchildren?

"You know we brought you on vacation to get you away from your jet ski, right dad?" another of the middle-agers said, a man who looked to be the youngest in his generation group.

A son as well?

"I'll have you know that the jet ski was the greatest invention of our time, of all history, even!" old-Mobius explained light-heartedly.

The taller man next to him placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I think we can manage a week without, my dear."

Loki gasped.

That was him speaking to old-Mobius. Well, not him, but an old version of him.

It didn't make sense.

Loki was well over 1000 years old. An Asgardian diety. A jotun.

He wouldn't just age like that. Not unless he sacrificed something to do so.

Loki couldn't help but notice, though, that while old-Loki's face was considerably wrinklier than his own, the man he looked at was void of worry lines around his eyes and forehead.

He looked genuinely happy.

Loki shifted as best he could to stay hidden behind the tree as he watched what played out ahead of him.

"Oh, alright, alright. I guess I can manage going without ole Lightning for the week if it means I've got y'all to entertain me. But just know that I'm taking everyone out on the lake as soon as we get back to Texas."

Old-Mobius, or whatever his midgardian name really was, smiled at his old-Loki, placing an hand over his lower back.

"I think that can be arranged," old-Loki agreed, quickly pressing a kiss to old-Mobius's temple as he wrapped an arm over the shorter man's shoulders.

Loki didn't even realize that there were tears sliding down his cheeks until the pang in his heart made him turn away from the happy family.

Because it wasn't just Mobius's family, it was his.

He didn't know how the two had found each other, how this Loki had somehow evaded godhood to live a domestic, midgardian life.

Loki couldn't stay here. He couldn't disturb and be caught by them.

He needed to find his Mobius, maybe figure out how to start a life like that.

It wouldn't be easy, jumping through the multiverse searching for that hard-headed, sarcastic, witty, crazy TVA analyst Loki had somehow fallen for, but he had to try.

So with the coast clear, he reset the tempad and stepped through another portal.

For his Mobius.

⏰

A/N: my heart is going to explode. Why did I feel the need to torture myself in this way? Anyways, I wrote it, so y'all gotta read it.

I don't make the rules.

Let me know what you thought! I love and hate this simultaneously so I'd love some feedback. Thanks for reading!!

Once again, sorry for those who follow me for Tom Holland stuff but I really wanted to write this!

If you would like to be added to any of my taglists, please message or send an ask so I can verify that you've been added!

Not tagging my permanent tag list since this isn't my normal content!

[robininthelabyrinth]

If you're still doing prompts: Nie MingJue has a kid. IDK how this affects anything else, but the kid loves A-Yuan whenever they meet while Xichen and HuiSang spoil them relentlessly.

Lan Xichen admired the world for its diversity: how different lands had different accents, different foods, different melodies, different customs, different superstitions – the differences added color to the world and made it more interesting. After all, without differences, how would anyone ever know that the sweet smoothness of Gusu’s Emperor’s Smile paired beautifully with the spicy food prepared in Yunmeng, or that the nasal intonations of Lanling were pleasantly charming when put against his favorite childhood songs?

Still, there were some cultural idiosyncrasies that, admittedly, he thought had less merit than others.

Qinghe’s notorious reluctance to share personal information, for instance.

It was one thing when it was not knowing exactly how old a person was, or what their given name was, or things like that – it was another thing to find out, well…

“Did you know about this?” Lan Xichen asked Jin Guangyao in an undertone, even though the dumbstruck expression didn’t give him much hope. “You were his deputy, once…”

“You’re his childhood friend,” Jin Guangyao pointed out. “And you didn’t know.”

“Well, yes, but that’s outside the sect, whereas you were a guest disciple…never mind. It’s not important.”

“Not important?”

“It isn’t.” Lan Xichen straightened and moved forward, waving to get Nie Mingjue’s attention from where he was yelling at Nie Huaisang, much to the evidence pleasure of the baby in his arms. “Da-ge, your child is beautiful.”

“Is she?” Nie Mingjue asked, glancing down at the infant with a frown. “How can you tell, under all those layers? All babies look the same to me.”

Lan Xichen found himself smiling in amusement. It was good to know that Nie Mingjue hadn’t changed in personality, even if – even if –

“I must admit I hadn’t known that you were expecting a child,” he blurted out. “Or that you, uh…”

“Were capable of carrying one?” Nie Huaisang asked innocently – a bit too innocently, the brat; he’d obviously known that his elder brother was, physiologically speaking, an elder sister. 

It wasn’t as if Lan Xichen wasn’t aware that Qinghe had a tradition of recognizing what they called ‘misaligned reincarnations’, a male soul accidentally reincarnating in a woman’s body or a woman in a man’s or even something else altogether; it was only that he’d thought he would have noticed it.

Apparently not, given the casual way his sworn brother had been feeding the child earlier.

“Er-ge is right: she really is quite beautiful,” Jin Guangyao said, coming close with a smile. His fingers reached for her, then paused. “Take it from one that knows, da-ge; I’ve seen plenty of babies before – she has very auspicious features.”

Nie Mingjue snorted. “I’d rather she had auspicious meridians, but it’s too early to tell…why do you keep twitching like that? Do you want to hold her or something? Just take her already.”

Jin Guangyao found himself with a baby in his arms and a surprised expression, albeit one that quickly faded into a smile that seemed a bit more sincere than the previous one. Lan Xichen wished his sworn brother wouldn’t feel the need to put up a façade with everyone. “Oh! She’s very light…how old is she?”

“Old enough,” Nie Mingjue said with a shrug, and there was that Qinghe reticence again. ‘Old enough’ probably meant she’d had her first month birthday. “We’re just calling her Baobei until we think of a name.”

Of course they hadn’t thought of a name. The Nie were hopeless. Nie Mingjue in specific; Nie Huaisang probably had lists of names.

“Does she…” Jin Guangyao started to ask, then stopped. At Nie Mingjue’s irritated expression he coughed. “You’ll have to forgive my unfamiliarity with how it works under the circumstances – is she surnamed Nie? Or do you use her father’s…?”

Nie Huaisang’s face spasmed in something that vaguely resembled rage for the half-second it took for him to hide it behind a fan, which Lan Xichen didn’t understand and which made Jin Guangyao frown.

“No father,” Nie Mingjue said. “She’s surnamed Nie, nothing else.”

“Not as if we’ve left much of the other side alive,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, and – oh. That’s why he was angry.

That was a very good reason to be angry.

Jin Guangyao abruptly turned as white as a sheet, which made Nie Mingjue reach over and catch him by the shoulders with a frown, saying, “Meng Yao, if you drop my infant child, I will drop you off the walls. Do you know how much effort it takes to get one of these? Quite literally a pain in the ass.”

Lan Xichen had been about to say something – he didn’t know what, but something necessary to vent the emotions in his heart – and it was all abruptly cut off by the sudden swell of amusement; Nie Mingjue’s sense of humor had always been like that, a perfect deadpan that you only belatedly realized was deliberately making fun.

“Let me hold her,” he said instead, and accepted the small child into his arms. She mostly looked annoyed with all the jostling, the tiny little scowl already demonstrating her Nie heritage. He hoped for her sake that all her features were the same. “Da-ge, you really don’t leave any room for the rest of us to compete with you, do you? You took first place in Phoenix Mountain even though you must have already had this little one in tow.”

“Don’t think too highly of me,” Nie Mingjue said. “I hadn’t even noticed at that point, though it was late enough that I probably should have...anyway, I didn’t take first. They only said that because they didn’t want to give it to the Jiang sect.”

“You were about equal with a third each,” Jin Guangyao said. He was still too pale, still upset; Lan Xichen didn’t blame him. Especially since it had been his plan that had…still, it was evident Nie Mingjue had no interest in discussing it, and it was better to follow his lead.

“About equal is still second place. There weren’t any rules against using demonic cultivation.”

“There will be now,” Jin Guangyao said. “Although I suppose it’s unnecessary, with Wei Wuxian now holed up in Yiling.”

Nie Huaisang hummed from behind his fan. “Didn’t Lan-er-gongzi go to Yiling recently?” he asked, almost purposefully casual. “What did he think of it?”

Lan Xichen blinked. Nie Huaisang was getting at something, but he didn’t know what – the Nie sect hadn’t made any statements about what had happened with Wei Wuxian in the immediate aftermath, something rather uncharacteristic of them. He supposed, looking down at the babe in his arms and calculating time since Nie Mingjue’s capture at Yangquan, he now knew why: they had been preoccupied.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “He didn’t say much, though I think he was pleased to see that Wei-gongzi was doing well.”

“He didn’t encounter any issues?”

“Issues? No. What sort of issues?”

“Oh, I don’t know. We all know how righteous Hanguang-jun is. If there was something fishy going on, he would have felt the need to act, wouldn’t he?”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes, clearly understanding better than they did what Nie Huaisang was getting at. “You just want to get more baby presents.”

“Baobei deserves all the presents,” Nie Huaisang agreed peaceably. “But she also deserves peace of mind, don’t you think?”

“It’s never too early to think about the future, da-ge,” Jin Guangyao agreed. “If you leave relatives outside, you never know when they might come to make trouble.”

Lan Xichen’s heart gave a pang: Jin Guangyao had been one of those relatives from the outside once, and he knew it still pained him even though he was now safely recognized as his father’s son.

“We can go with you, assuming you want her to meet them,” he offered. He wasn’t entirely sure whether Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao were suggesting meeting the remaining Wen sect members or implying that Nie Mingjue should simply put the remaining Wens to death to avoid having to deal with any problems, but he figured it was better to simply pretend they meant the nicer option. “It’s bad luck not to honor relatives, if there are ones that you can tolerate. Anyway, I don’t believe even the Yiling Patriarch could stand up against all of us – or that Wei-gongzi would, if we came with a child to meet her relatives.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nie Mingjue allowed. “If they really are all old people and children, non-participants, it wouldn’t be a problem to recognize them to some extent. It’s better to have more cousins rather than less, after all.”

Lan Xichen recalled a brief reference his brother had made to a child he’d encountered at Yiling – how close it had been with Wei Wuxian, who was infamously rabid in the defense of those he considered family no matter what official pretense had to be put about between him and the Jiang sect.

“I think,” he said, “that that’s an excellent idea.”

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #11

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Delicious Recipe

I would soon be at an age where I could envision my 50’s. My only daughter was a college student. I didn’t think of myself as too much of a passionate clerk, but I was fond of my current job at a mass retailer. Said shop was on the line of so-called “luxury supermarkets” in a way, so it had many products that weren’t available at supermarkets in my neighborhood, which meant stocking shelves was a hassle, but it was fun to look around. It had things such as assortments of high-quality cheeses or pouches of cold soup called vichyssoise. Since the shop was within walking distance of one of the largest stations in Tokyo, its clientele was diverse and there were many first-time customers, but on the other hand, that was exactly why it was so easy to remember the face of repeating customers.

“Hmmm...”

The young man glaring at the syrup shelf for a while now, who seemed old enough to be a university student, was actually a regular customer as well. Said regular – who stood out like a sore thumb in this shop, which had an overwhelming elderly customer base – always asked for simplified receipts. The name on them was “Jewelry Etranger”. Must be from a jewelry store. I believed him to be about as old as my daughter.

He was pacing back and forth in front of the shelf. Even though he usually came to buy snacks such as youkan and cookies, he was groaning in front of the cocktail syrup shelf today. Was it for private use instead of an errand? While I was staring at him, our eyes met, and with an apologetic face, he came over to my counter. There were no other customers.

“Hum, excuse me.”

As I welcomed him with a “yes, what might it be?”, he asked for a strange piece of advice.

“I want to make melon soda.”

“Haa.”

“The kind that you can quickly make into cream soda, with vanilla ice cream floating on top...”

“Haa.”

Then wouldn’t it be all right if he just bought the melon-flavored shaved ice syrup and carbonated water over there and mixed them in the appropriate proportions?

Before I could say this, he cut off, a crease rippling between his brows as he furrowed them, “I want it to be tasty. Very tasty.”

“Haa.”

A tasty melon soda. A very tasty one, no less. What kind of melon soda would that be?

I fumbled around my memory for the latest experience I had with a melon soda. The last time I had gone to a fast food was when my daughter was about ten years old. It had already been quite a long time. But I didn’t think there were any revolutionary changes in taste since then. It was carbonated, green and simply sweet. It didn’t have the same variety as tea or coffee. As if pressed with a stamp, melon soda was just melon soda. It was different from those confusing flavored-tea leaves.

He had actually already bought the melon syrup, he told me. But no matter how he changed the proportion of carbonated water, it didn’t have enough of a punch to it.

“I did some research at bars about how different the taste was from the melon sodas that we drink out there, but I kind of couldn’t tell... I think it might be best if I mix it with something. That’s why I’m looking for syrup, hmmm...”

With the exception of standard syrups for shaved ice, all syrups we handled were meant for cocktails. Bottles of vivid colors, in flavors such as apricot and mint, were lined up there. But I didn’t know whether any of them could be the secret ingredient for melon soda. The prospects were dim.

For starters, why had he decided to make something so troublesome by hand? To the point he was thinking of purchasing a bottle of syrup that was by no means cheap.

Of course, I didn’t say such things in front of the customer, but as if seeing through my hesitation, he smiled, as though a bit embarrassed. “No, hum, I have a friend who likes cream soda. She will be coming to the shop I work at one of these days... so I wanted to surprise her. Ehehe,” he laughed, looking happy.

I would guess that I did nothing but blink silently for a moment. It was an astonishingly good motive. I didn’t know what kind of friend she was or what kind of shop she would be visiting, but if nothing else, she seemed to be someone important to him.

If it were me, that would probably become a memory to last a lifetime.

A secret ingredient for a sweet juice. What suddenly crossed my mind was a time when my daughter was still little. A time when she caught a cold. I once made her a sweet juice when she didn’t want to take her medicine. I had a memory of being troubled as she was reluctant to drink water, saying it was painful. This had happened either in September or October, so there was still some leftover shaved ice syrup from the summer in our fridge. Making sugared water using it as colorant apparently gave it a special vibe, so she cheered up and drank it. Was it just sugared water? Hmm, if I wasn’t mistaken, in order for it to feel refreshing in the mouth, I had added—

“Ah, lemon juice.”

“Eh?”

“Mr. Customer, I’m not a bartender or anything, so I might be giving a wrong guess, but...”

Lemon went surprisingly well with sugared water.

As many cocktail recipes had lemon juice in them, I believed it strained the flavor that tended to unilaterally turn into “sweetness”. I didn’t think there was freshly squeezed lemon in the melon sodas of fast food shops, but if he was in pursuit of tastiness, wasn’t it a possibility?

When I told him this, he looked at me with a happy face, bowing his head with a “thank you very much”. And so, when he was about to leave the store without buying anything, he came back as if remembering something, lining up in front of the register and buying a package of specialty cookies from a certain place. When I was about to make the receipt, he told me he didn’t need it today, so I could tell it was his own pocket money.

“Really, thank you so much,” he said with an uplifting face, and this time, he exited the shop for good.

I didn’t think the suggestion I gave him warranted such consideration, and yet, what a proper child he was. His mother certainly must be happy to have a son like that, I thought, but afterward, I changed my mind, as he might surprisingly not be like that at home. My daughter, too, was an unfettered general at home, but the boyfriend that she discreetly brought over at the end of the previous year said some dreadful things about her, such as that she was a “refined young lady”. I thought they wouldn’t last for long, but it seemed they were still dating. It might be that people possessed many sides, just like those stylistic syrup bottles. Like the gemstones sold in jewelry shop. And he had showed me a wonderful, brightly shining side of his.

As a clerk, I wished from the bottom of my heart that his peculiar act of hospitality would go well.

   On Thursday morning, while I was extremely busy with stocking items, someone called to me with an “excuse me”. Even though I wished people wouldn’t talk to me at times like these, I couldn’t let it show on my face. When I turned around with a “yes, what might it be?”, my facial expression froze up. A blond, blue-eyed man was standing there. He was such a beautiful man that you’d end up asking yourself if it was okay to be breathing the same air as him. My face stiffened. He was speaking in fluent Japanese.

“Do you have canned cherries?”

“Eh, hah—aah, cherries?”

“Cherries. I need them urgently,” he said with a sour face.

Whatever might be the situation that required such a pretty young man, who looked like he had fallen from Heaven, to purchase canned cherries, it was beyond me. Anyway, with a manner of walking that looked like a frantic penguin, I guided him to the canned fruits corner and bowed with an “it’s this way”. He smiled as if relieved, leaving me floored.

“Much obliged.”

You’d think of it as an ordinary expression, but it was difficult to describe this with any word other than “bombshell”. His smile was like the glowing summer wind. As a result, you’d find yourself wondering about even unnecessary things, such as if this person had lived a life full of hardships. Was he an actor? Could be a model. His beauty was so removed from this transient realm, so I couldn’t think he was someone from the same world as myself. If a person like him were playing the hero in a tragic drama, I had the feeling that the audience would be a bit turned-off. As in, wouldn’t the role of charismatic villain suit him better? After a brief moment of escapism from reality, I came back to my senses and returned to stocking the items.

Once the checkout of the canned cherries was finished at the register, the elegant man left the shop while cursing someone’s carelessness with an “honestly, that heedless guy,” using a word that even a Japanese person seldom would.

At that moment, for some reason, the figure of that regular customer boy suddenly surfaced in my brain. The one who had told me he wanted to make melon soda. The kind that could quickly be made into cream soda, with vanilla ice cream floating on top. Melon-flavored soda aside, if you wanted to make a cream soda, the cherry was the last thing you should forget - that was what I had always been thinking, but unfortunately, he hadn’t showed up in the shop yet ever since then. Well, someone who had been so obsessed with the melon flavor probably wouldn’t do something like forget about the cherry, but there were instances such as the blond Onii-san of today. If he ever showed up again, I would make sure to mention the cherries.

On that day’s afternoon, I finally gave it a thought, and just as I was going home, I went into a family restaurant for the first time in ten years, and while tasting an awkward embarrassment, I ordered a cream soda. I had actually been wanting to drink it all this time ever since I saw him. My first cream soda in a while had the painfully sweet flavor of childhood.

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About the First Season of--

Salutations random people on the internet who most likely won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

When I first saw the sneak peek of--

...I...didn't...think it would be anything all that special. I love animation, and I love superheroes, so it would go without saying that I would love an animated series about superheroes. But the animation looked a little too stiff for my liking, and aside from featuring J.K. Simmons, there wasn't anything grabbing me when it comes to this show.

Then I heard some s**t goes down at the end of episode one. So, letting my curiosity get the better of me, I binged the entire series in a day to see what the fuss was about. And, um...Yeah. Holy s**t.

This is a series that will very much make you uncomfortable in all the right ways. However, it is a gigantic gorefest at times, so if you get queasy after a single drop of blood, DON'T WATCH THIS SHOW! Trust me, you will not be prepared for what this series has to offer.

At the same time, I highly recommend you watch this series before reading this review. I'm going to spoil major plot points and characters so I can appropriately discuss what I think about the season, so trust me when I say you should click away if you haven't watched it yet. It's one of those series that are better to go in as blind as possible. You can call it a cheap way to appeal to shock value, but I call it one of the best reasons why--

...Is a contender for best-animated series of the decade--That bit with the title card isn't going away anytime soon, is it?

WHAT I LIKE

The Guardians of the Globe vs. The Mauler Twins: This is the best possible way for the series to begin. The first fight scene is bright, colorful, and kinda fun. Thus setting the ultimate expectation subversion in making audiences think that will be the series staple. However, just because it has the energy of a harmless superhero fight, there is a sense of intensity as the Guardians give their all in saving others. Like that moment with Darkwing (Not the duck) as he rescues that woman without hesitation, despite knowing he might die because of it. Or Green Ghost, who just barely rescues all those civilians from that falling debris. It shows that you don't need intense scenes of violence to make a fight scene thrilling to watch.

Diversity Wins: I don't know how diverse the comics are compared to the show, but I'm impressed with how inclusive this series is. So many members of the main cast are people of color, with the main lead being half-Korean. And it's not just different races that the series shines a light on, as we also get the rare, but very much welcomed, animated male gay character. Who's thankfully isn't cliched in ten ways to Sunday...for the most part. It really does seem like writers are starting to grow up and that it's better to be as inclusive as possible instead of pretending certain people don't exist for the sake of "convenience." It might not solve oppression in general, but it certainly makes certain people feel better, even if it is briefly.

Mark Grayson: Mark is a pretty solid super-protagonist if you ask me. Sure, at first, he comes across as whiney...and even more so in later episodes, but he's really an endearing character at times. Mark nails the role of the relatable everyman that's also inspirational with his determination since he never gives up until beaten to the inch of his life. Seriously, while he might not entirely be--

...I guess that bit with the title card really isn't going away.

Anyways, while he might not entirely be invulnerable in the literal sense, he is very much so in the figurative sense. Mark, in so many ways, refuses to call quits once he finally gets the hang of being a superhero, which is what makes him so inspirational. Plus, it's funny seeing how much of a rookie he can be to the gig at times. Mark is far from a perfect lead but is still charming to a fault, and it's nice seeing him grow more heroic each episode. I hope to see him develop more in future seasons, as he has the potential to be ranked higher up as one of my favorite superheroes (it's hard to compete with Spider-Man and Batman, but he'll make me consider it).

Debbie Grayson: This is almost what I expect a mother and wife of superheroes would be. 

Your son is constantly crash landing in your yard? Tell him to knock it off because he's past his curfew. 

Your husband disappeared into another dimension to fight off invaders? Shrug it off and expect that he'll be late for dinner.

It's a ton of fun to watch, and I adore how supportive she is of Mark, despite how much danger he could be in as a superhero. But, what really endears me with Debbie is her complicated feelings with Omni-Man. There's not a doubt in my mind that she loved him with her whole heart, but she also isn't an idiot. She is quick to pick up how unheroic her husband can be at times, often scolding him for it when necessary. And when she finally starts investigating if he really did kill the Guardians, I love that she instantly comes up with every single plausible excuse she can, despite knowing the truth. Because she believes that she knows who Omni-Man is and refuses any possibility that he might be a supervillain. So when she finds out that there really is no other explanation and hearing him call her a pet (big ouch when that happened), you wanna know what she does? She cries. Not because the man she loved is gone forever, but because the idea of him is. And it's that level of emotional devastation that comes from those complicated emotions that make me think Debbie Grayson is the most complex and endearing character on the show. And I. Will. Stand by that.

Seeing the Guardians of the Globe on their down time: Wow, what a cute collection of scenes that are charming as much as they are heartwarming! A set of scenes that show how human these characters are with their close relationships with friends and family! I sure hope it's not followed up with a brutal emotional gut-punch of a scene that will be even more devastating after thinking back on these! Especially with that bit with Martian Man and the little girl, cause OOO-WEE, would THAT tear me up inside!

Omni Man destroying the Guardians of the Globe:...I'd follow through on my joke here, but holy s**t.

That's really the best way I can describe all of this. It is a brutal, I repeat, BRUTAL scene that will stick with you hours after watching it. Not only that, but it's one of the few instances when I was damn near speechless because I couldn't think of anything else to say other than, "Holy s**t." The only time another superhero property did that was Avengers: Infinity War, except with that, the only difference is that the characters come back. Here, except for The Immortal, the Guardians stay dead! There's no magic amulet or alternate versions from another dimension. No, they die and never come back. Thus setting up how serious the show can be. Because if these superheroes can stay dead, then so can others.

Plus, what makes it more impactful is how throughout the entire fight, there was a glimpse of hope that the Guardians can beat Omni-Man. I heard he got nerfed for the sake of drama, and I approve of that decision. Because if he was really--

...If he was really unbeatable, then the fight doesn't have weight to it. There wouldn't be a point in rooting for these characters to win when we already know they're going to lose. But, by showing there's a chance that they could win, it becomes all the more intense watching the fight and even more tragic seeing them lose. It is a masterpiece of a battle that proves once and for all: Batman is right. You need contingency plans.

Omni Man: J. Jonah Jameson has become the one thing he hates the most: A masked MENACE...Ok, I know Omni-Man doesn't wear a mask, so the joke doesn't work as well as it could. But it was served to me on a silver platter, damn it! I had to take it!

In all seriousness, though, Omni-Man might give Homelander a run for his money on best evil Superman. Because while Homelander might be terrifying in his own right with his style of evil, Omni-Man takes it a step up a notch with the mystery behind WHY he killed the Guardians of the Globe. We know right away that there's something off with him, but up until that point, we see multiple instances of Omni-Man doing the right thing rather than the wrong. Sure, he might come off as cold when interacting with people, but so does Batman and other great superheroes in comics. That doesn't mean he's evil. So when he does do something so incredibly heinous, we're left with this mystery as to why. Because there has to be a reason for it all, right? Like, maybe mind control or his family was threatened. Something and anything that means he was forced into killing the noblest of people. So when it turns out that his actions were intentional, it is already pretty devastating. But when we find out why he does these things, it paints how truly evil Omni-Man is, given how little respect he has for human life.

Plus, as terrifying as Homelander is, Omni-Man is ten times more of an engaging villain. With Homelander, what you see is what you get: A narcissist with a god complex. For Omni-Man, it's more or less the same thing, but it's something fed to him because of the conditioning from his planet. There is a tiny, molecule-sized part of him that genuinely cares about others. It doesn't change what he does, nor does it mean he deserves forgiveness (far from it), but it hints that maybe he's not evil because of his own ego. It's because of how he's trained to be. And judging by his pained expressions from Mark's words and the single tear he sheds when leaving everything behind, there's a chance that he might be willing to fight back that mentality.

Or he will stay evil, and that he'll return to do worse things in the future. I don't know. I haven't read the comics. But I feel like I don't need to read anything to tell you all that Omni-Man is up there as one of the most intriguing comic book villains of all time, and I can't wait to see what happens with him next.

This show is f**king Violent: I mean, I refer you back to that scene where Omni-Man destroys the Guardians of the Globe. But, unlike other shows that use violence to force that mature rating, I feel as though In--

...Title card. You were cute the first time, but now your novelty has quickly worn thin.

Anyways, I feel as though this show...uses gore more appropriately. More often than not, death and carnage get treated as a literal joke in adult cartoons because people are sick bastards, I guess. But with...the current series I'm talking about, it all has an impact. No one dies or gets mangled for the sake of shock value or for a laugh. Instead, every instance of this type of violence is to either make a point, set the tone, or prove just how dangerous a specific character is. It makes...the series more mature than most adult cartoons you'll find because it actually brings a worthy discussion for its violence rather than milking it to give the illusion of maturity. And I gotta respect the writers for doing that.

Cecil: This man is basically Nick Fury if he was overpowered but in a good way. There is just something about a man who knows superheroes are needed in the world but also trusts a "hero" like Omni-Man as far as he can throw him. Not only does Cecil have contingency plans for his contingency plans, but the guy also knows to send the right heroes out for the exact missions that require them. Plus, a man is an instant badass when he's stone-faced about a demon saying he'll go somewhere worse than hell and is calm when being face-to-face with an angry Omni-Man.

I don't make the rules. I just abide by them.

The title card gets bloodier with each episode: This is just a really cool gimmick. It proves how intense this show can really be and how the stakes get higher and higher with each installment. Also, I like to think the amount of blood that splashes over the title card reflects how brutal the episode will be, especially with episode eight, 'cause holy hell.

The plot structure: The way the story works is very similar to how a comic book series handles its overarching narrative. Even though the writers begin a new arc that continues for a handful of issues, the overall main plot still develops in the background of the current adventure the hero goes through. That's basically how--

>Intense inhale<

>Calm exhale<

That's basically how THIS SHOW operates. Each episode can be seen as its own story that's given a ton of room to develop with its forty-five-minute runtime (which blew my f**king mind when I started binging it). Despite that, there's still a great sense of continuity. Everything involving Omni-Man and the mystery behind his murder of the Guardians gets fleshed out throughout the season, even when it takes the background of Mark's escapades. It really does feel like sitting down and taking the time to read an entire volume of comics, which I like to believe is the intention. After all, what's the point of making a series about superheroes if you don't make it feel like a comic book at least once?

Dark Blood: I desire a series based on this character alone. I know it's probably just Hellboy, but I want it. 

The idea of a demon solving murder crimes to work off his debt in Hell is too much of a remarkable concept to strictly be a c-plot in one series. Give Dark Blood a spin-off, damn it!

The Realistic Portrayal of a Superhero world: Unlike certain superhero properties--*cough* DC *cough*--it's--

>Huff<

>Puff<

>HUFF<

>PUFF<

>HUFF<

It's. This. F**KING. SHOW! That really does an excellent job at portraying how much it would suck to live in a world of superheroes. Sure, you got the cool battles and awe-inspiring heroes with incredible powers, but do you know what else you get? Hundreds upon thousands of people dying from the very threats those heroes fight against. Not to mention all the realistic physics that come from people like Mark trying to save others. Just look at how mangled that old woman looked when he attempted to help her. It, uh...It sure did not look great. Don't get me wrong, I love superheroes and the worlds they live in. But when watching a show like...this one, it really makes me appreciate how I don't live in those worlds with them.

It’s Still Funny: This is something I appreciate the most. When most superhero shows go for the realistic approach, they go with the doom and gloom route, making everything so melodramatic about how serious the world is. But here's the thing: Superheroes are f**king stupid.

Don't tell me they're not because they are. Superheroes have cornball hero names, bright costumes, and logos on their foreheads, chests, belts, and what-have-you. Taking a superhero too seriously is the worst mistake you could make, which is why I love the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Say what you want about Marvel having "too many jokes," but at least they know it's for the best to laugh at themselves and embrace the weirdness. It's something similar with...you know what. Because while the series tells a serious and realistic story about superheroes, it's still a story about superheroes. So it tells some jokes and some pretty funny ones at that. Because while it's essential to include some drama in a story such as the one in...you know what, it's just as important to never forget to have some fun.

“Earth is not yours to conquer.”: Such a great line that gains an even greater meaning once we fully know who Omni-Man is. The main creditor for how effective it is goes to J.K. Simmons for making the line sound explicit yet implicit at the same time.

Allen the Alien: ...It is an absolute crime that this character only has about six minutes of screentime. Allen is such a bro, partially because of Seth Rogan's performance, that I would honestly be upset if he doesn't show up more often in later seasons. Seriously, bring him back for more.

The Mauler Twins: Thankfully, these characters get as much attention as they deserve. The banter between the Mauler Twins is always entertaining, often being the comedic highlights at times. On top of being funny, they also work as efficient villains who can come across as threatening at times.

But what I love most of all about these two is the explanation behind the cloning process. The reasoning of why neither character remembers which one is the cone is a brilliant idea that I'm surprised no one else did in the past (to my knowledge). It also provides some excellent fruit for thought in wondering if it really is better to live your life not knowing if you're a clone or not. The whole thing is great to watch, and it makes me really glad for their inclusion...too bad they had to be forced into a story that makes a character look like a reckless superhero and an inconsiderate jackass to his friend. Seriously, what was up with that?

“That Actually Hurt”: This just might be my favorite episode of the first season. Machine Head is both equally hilarious and devious, Titan might just be my favorite character due to how intriguing his allegiances and motivations are, that final fight was the perfect amount of brutal, and we get the biggest hint of the man Omni-Man really is. Having him simply watching Mark instead of flying in to help him actually shocked me the first time seeing it. It's not until we learn what a Viltrumite really is that it becomes clear as to why. He doesn't care about saving his son but instead seeing Mark reach the same potential Omni-Man did during that smash fest the planet went through to reach perfection. And something tells me he felt more disappointment than sadness after seeing his son get nearly killed by Tony the Tiger (I know he has an actual name...but this is funnier to me). It's such a solid moment with great implications that just so happens to exist in an even greater episode.

Eve deciding to just help people for the heck of it: I actually love this idea more for the potential it has rather than what actually happens so far. Because the main reason why heroes don't fly around and solve every little minute problem people have is that they need to learn how to act without help. If you suddenly make food appear out of thin air or stopping forest fires, you're doing good, but there's also potential harm that comes from it. I think back to that episode of The Powerpuff Girls, where the townspeople are so idiotic and complacent with having their heroes solve every problem that they really can't think or act for themselves. A similar thing can happen with Eve if she's not careful. Even worse, if she keeps trying to end famine for farmers, because she might get into a Supergirl situation with people building a cult around her. And, you know, that's not going to be fun.

But again, that's just the potential that this presents. We--Or the people who haven't read the comics--don't know if Eve will actually face this issue. Regardless, we still get some solid moments that proves just how much Eve is a true hero in this series as she has no other motive to help people other than she just wants to. And I actually think that's pretty cool.

The Immortal’s rematch: I gotta hand it to the guy. Not a second after being brought back to life, and The Immortal's already flying off to get revenge on the bastard who killed his closest friends in the world. Or, globe, I guess.

I respect that, to be honest.

(As a bonus, The Immortal causing Omni-Man's eyes to become bloodshot adds to how evil he'll be in the last episode)

Mark trying to snap his dad out of mind-control: Oh, I felt that.

I'm pretty sure we all felt that.

Ow...Big ow.

The Train Scene: ...This is the most horrific thing I have seen in entertainment. Seriously, while Omni-Man annihilating the Guardians left me speechless, this is another level. Because him using Mark's body to kill a train full of people ramming into them, leaving Mark all the more helpless to stop it, makes a scene that is so...so hard for me to describe how effectively f**ked up it is. It's one of those moments where just by seeing it, you know why it's awful in all the right ways. And I will never forget the look of shock and horror on my face when it reflected onto my laptop's screen after the scene briefly cut to black soon after the carnage. Because if that doesn't explain how unmerciful this moment is, I don't know what will.

Saving Mark after the fight: I really love this because as it flashes between still images of people carrying Mark away after his brutal fight with Omni-Man, it really feels like you're reading a comic from panel to panel. It’s pretty neat. I won’t lie.

WHAT I DISLIKE

The Animation isn’t that great: Now, in terms of action, the animation is fantastic. You feel the impact of each attack, there are some creative uses of powers, and the gore is better implemented because it's all animated. As for everything else...yeah, it kinda sucks. Movements are a little stiff at times, the CGI backgrounds could use a bit more polish, and don't get me started on the CGI crowds of people. I understand the shortcuts that need to be taken to make everything else more effective, but man, this series needed a little more time in the oven before being shown to everyone. It's never too bad, but it can be pretty distracting at times.

Amber: F**k Amber. Just f**k her. Everything people tell you that is wrong with her is one-hundred percent on point. She is easily one of the worst love interests, and to me, it has everything to do with the fact that she knows Mark is--

...That she knows Mark is--

...

...

...ThatsheknowsMarkisInvinci--

--BECAUSE IT INVALIDATES ANY POINT SHE HAS, GOSH DANGIT! I don't give a single S**T if she's upset that he's late all the time! If Amber was always unaware of it, then I would understand. But having her know means that she thinks her issues are more important than Mark, oh, I don't know, SAVING THE PLANET! I mean, the girl helps feed the homeless! You would think she would understand.

But fine. Maybe Amber's just upset that Mark's lying to her. Sure. That's understandable...BUT WHAT THE F**K IS UP WITH HER BLOWING UP IN HIS FACE FOR NOT HELPING ANYBODY AT THE COLLEGE WHEN SHE KNOWS HE'S HELPING EVERYBODY!? Even if it's her giving Mark one last chance to tell her the truth (which is a mile of a stretch, and you know it), did she really expect him to reveal his secret with tons of people watching? That is a crazy expectation that no one should live up to!

Amber is quite possibly the worst thing about this show. She was fine at first, and her chemistry with Mark was on point, but MAN, did she get worse later on.

And if I see one mother f**ker calling me a racist because I don't like this character who just so happens to be black...I'm going to be upset, not gonna lie. Because that is a cheap shot to dismiss any criticism, especially since her race has NOTHING to do with why people hate her...Or, at least, most people.

Edit (5/27/2021): Disregard the above. The long and short is that I don’t like Amber. She just doesn’t sit right with me for the reasons that her anger towards Mark just never felt entertaining to me in comparision to everything else. But saying her thoughts and arguements are invalid is not cool, and I’m sorry to both any readers who are black or especially female who would be upset by this.

Rex-splode: I understand the point behind Rex. He's a character who we're supposed to hate, so it becomes so much more satisfying seeing others s**t on him. But those characters are hard to get right if you’re not careful. Make them too irritating, then any suffering they go through will seem too little. Make them not annoying enough, and their punishments can be too harsh. Rex fits into the "too irritating" category. It's satisfying to see Monster Girl wreck his s**t after he started commenting how ineffective she might be, but with what he pulled with Dupli-Kate, I feel as though he might deserve worse. Although I will admit Rex gets slightly better in later episodes, showing at least a smidgen of character development. But I don't think it's enough to make his a**holeness worth it. Still, I hope he at least becomes above decent in the next few seasons, which is way more than what I can say for Amber.

(Seriously, writers, if she just disappears without an ounce of an explanation in the season premiere, I won't question it. You have my word.)

Edit: I no longer agree with what I crossed out, but I won’t delete it either. I want people to know the mistake I made so I can prove that I changed in the future.

Robot cloning himself to be with Monster Girl: ...Nope! 

Nope!

Changed my mind.

I am NOT touching that.

I will touch a lot of things, but I will not touch--That came out wrong.

Please forget you read anything.

Thank you, and goodnight.

Let’s move on

Transitioning to the title card: Here it is! The nitpickiest of all nitpicks! But, seeing how it happens in every episode, meaning that the writers have no choice but to commit to it, means it's one of those things that viewers are forced to get used to. And boy, is the transition to the title card hard to get used to! Oh, you thought it was annoying how it kept happening in this review? Well...fair enough. But trust me when I say it's much more aggravating in the show.

The funny thing is, I had no problem the first time it happened. It was a cute way to introduce the character as well as the title of the series. But having that be the basis for transitioning to the title card every time was a gimmick that got old real quick. Especially since every time that a character says the word--

--it always feels forced. What's even more annoying is that sometimes it interrupts characters as they're saying invin--

LIKE! F**KING! THAT! Because interrupting someone before they say something is one thing, but doing so as they're saying it shows a sense of bad timing. Not even that, because this is something that I feel like could have been the easiest to change in the series by having someone go, "Hey, maybe we should edit out this single second."

It's laziness that doesn't happen often, but it still grinds my gears a bit. Plus, is there really no other smoother transition the writers could come up with? Did they really believe this is the best way to do it?

Think, writers! THINK!

It's fine to have a gimmick, but this is one that really shouldn't have any follow-through on.

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

That's about all the issues I have with the show. It's far from perfect, but still, an A- is pretty impressive work. The stuff that this series does right not only outnumbers the mistakes but also heavily outweighs them. Besides, no show in the history of creativity has ever been perfect in its first season. There are always dents that need to get buffed out and improve upon for the subsequent seasons to come. Only then can a series truly be Invincible from all criticism.

...

...Oh, sure. 

SURE!

NOW it lets me say it!

GOSH, DANGIT, I HATE THAT TITLE CARD!

[llycaons]

oh but i have to do mdzs / cql for the ask game

YESSS!!!

Favorite character: LAN WANGJI and WEI WUXIAN!!! lwj because he unlocked a new part of my brain and wwx because he's the most character ever. but they tie with jin ling today because I love jin ling he's my boy he's very very young and learning how to live and his flaws are endlessly endearing

Second favorite character: wen ning and wen qing! AND lan qiren because you know what I love that old man. he's made a lot mistakes but I think he does his best and he loves his nephews

Least favorite character: su she. why are you even here su she. ugh. also jin guanshan for being an asshole and treating women like shit and pressuring jyl to marry his son and manipulating jc and oh yeah. murdering thousands of innocent war prisoners for sport. fucker

The character I’m most like: wen ning but not as cool. also jyl.

Favorite pairing: well naturally it's the one I made a whole new tag for do I even need to say it. invented love and trust and intimacy and tenderness and growth and support and have that kickass red/black and white/blue color scheme and complement each other in everything they do and inspire each other to be better people...

Least favorite pairing: any incest or age gap one obviously (including lxc and jc, what are you ON) but also xxc/xy truly does make me ill. I also hate wq/jc but there aren't many (implied canon) pairings that inspire such revulstion in me as xxc and the man who manipulated him into murdering both innocent people and his best friend/beloved and mocked him for his ideals and was implied to be in a relationship w him under false pretenses. god. there are only a handful of good couples in this show anyway that aren't incredibly obscure and with people who actually meet (like uhhh wang/xian good, yang/qing good, song/xiao good, mm and her husband good...sang/cheng is okay I guess but it's not much in canon...lxc and nmj fine...yeah not a lot. oh shit I forgot the straights. jyl and jzx I do like)

Favorite moment: hard to say. not a lot beats the staircase confession scene. I think I've mentioned this, but I definitely saw it as a full romantic confession scene as well. beautiful beautiful coming together of the relationship, and resolution of one of the issues it's had since the beginning (lwj not having wwx's back in a way he really needs him to) the callback to wwx's own words the elevation of concepts and themes from the original work into an adaptation. brilliant. also I have to say the snow scene in 43 (?) was just gorgeous visually and so cathartic emotionally and the domesticity in that scene was so much and you can really tell how wwx is slowly healing from the past and how having lwj's support and love is so good for him and he's grappling with his grief and what's happened to him and what he's done and lost but he's not doing it alone! even if they haven't like said it out loud... scream

Rating out of 10: 9.5/10. I had to split this section up lmao

treat your girls better. plot's kind of a mess. the effects were really quite bad, though they didn't ruin the scene for me. qishan lava pits and the puppets were a bit on the worse side. lwj should have had more and bigger scars on his back and he should have been allowed to get bloody and dirty which is something that'll always bother me. I also wanted more scenes with him! I think the show didn't want to make him do too much outside of his novel self which is a shame because he could have used just a little more personality and color. the pathos of some scenes are overdone - like when the kids reunite after LP massacre. I was upset too but jyl stood there and cried for way too long imo. also I have a bit of an issue with the body diversity for the leads of this show as well (most shows do this, here in the US as well, so I'm not criticizing cql in particular) but the fans heaping praise on the actors for being literally underfed is so disturbing. (I'm looking at you, blog who's liking my shit with a title like "lwj tiny waist appreciation zone" sit down and think maybe)

but as a show I just think it's an absolute triumph. I do think it had respect for the source material (see the callbacks and references a novel fan would get) but wanted to make the story its own. I thought the way the romance was written into the narrative even while being censored was legitimately masterful, the cinematography had some really stunning shots, the character relationships and arcs are deeply satisfying and complex and tragic and hopeful, the music was excellent and integrated well into the story, most of the acting was incredible (special shoutout to zzj, xz, wzc, and wyb for playing jgy, wwx, jc, and lwj SO well my god), there was chemistry between the leads and between pretty much all major characters, the flashback structure is unique and compelling, and despite the overuse of cgi in some establishing shots I thought the sets for unclean realm, cloud recesses, and lotus pier felt both lived in/homey and fantastical. I said some of the emotional scenes are overdone but when they aren't, they're the kind of scenes that you think about for months. the emotional storytelling is incredible and the character work my god the jiang family alone...there's so much there to dig into

thank you penta! in terms of adaptations I just find it so fascinating as well

[sebastianshaw]

@sammysdewysensitiveeyes So, you asked me not long ago, how I’d feel about Haven as a mutant on Krakoa. As it happens, I’m on an RP Discord where I write her as such, since they allow characters there to be mutants who aren’t mutants in canon, in order to join the RP, since it’s set on Krakoa. I made her a healer, able to heal herself and others. Super on the nose, but it’s what she would want, and it also fulfills *my* desire for her not to be hurt anymore (I mean, she still can be, she’ll just recover) Anyway, in March I wrote this for her in that setting. Featuring Shaw as usual since he’s one of my other muses there and, well, you know I love writing my faves together and their conversations because self-indulgence. No obligation to read, just I remembered I had written it and was like “Oh that’s like what Sammy asked about”

Shaw’s latest job was to spread the Krakoan medicine throughout the country of India. A considerable task; India was made up of no less than 28 states and 8 union territories, with an immense and diverse population. There were the dilapidated slums and rural villages that Westerners most often imagined, but there were also bustling cosmopolitan cities, centers of business and technology and commerce to rival New York, and it was in the biggest of these that Shaw was starting---

Mumbai.

Accompanying him on the recommendation of Charles Xavier was Radha Dastoor---Haven of the healing gardens, whom he had previously met when she had helped with his back. At first Shaw had thought this was a bit racist of Charles, but it turned out not only was Haven from Mumbai specifically herself, she had wonderful connections for the tasks. Her philanthropy had connected her with doctors, hospitals, shelters, and its hidden communities of those suffering afflictions such as the oft-claimed-eradicated leprosy. But, Shaw could have done most of that himself, aside from the hidden colonies. No, where Haven came in most handy was, shockingly, her knowledge of Mumbai’s criminal underworld. Not because she had ever been involved with it, but because she had done so much work getting people out of it---the women and children she had worked to get out of human trafficking rings, the survival sex workers rescued from abusive pimps, the children enticed away from little “found families” of criminals who used them for their dirty work.  . .the list went on. And of course she hadn’t been able to do all that alone, she had been funding an entire network of people to get this done, to keep the rescued parties safe and help them in getting to a new life, to block off or arrest those who tried to take them back or attack the rescuers themselves (Haven had been a target MANY times, but those had been in the days when she’d been kept safe by The Adversary’s powers. . . ) and thus she had an abundance of detectives and double agents on the inside. And because they were on the inside, they could bring in the medicine. . . and bring out the mutants being sold, enslaved, and Heaven wept at what else. Mutants that, for the moment, were staying with them in The Rajmani. Haven’s wealth was originally inherited, but she’d kept it coming---so that she could keep giving it away---through The Rajmani, a luxury heritage hotel on par with the likes of New York’s Ritz or Plaza. In income, anyway. In beauty, it surpassed them both. Well, perhaps that was subjective, but it was built within a restored Mughal Palace, and Shaw had to admit he was impressed with the great domes and slender minarets, the  massive vaulted gateways and delicate ornamentation, the elegant water gardens and charbagh walkways through the carefully cultivated yet lush tropical greenery. Most of all, though, he liked learning the fact that the woman earned at least a little of her own money in some kind of sense, even if by her own admission she only owned it, not managed it. Shaw looked down on those who only inherited wealth, just as they had often looked down on him for earning his. Haven, though, did not seem to look down on him. She didn’t seem to have the proverbial stones to look down on anybody, and she certainly was around people who actually deserved it. She seemed to love being around that type, in fact, went out of her way to benefit them, centered her entire life around it. Some people, Shaw had found, were just mad like that. He suspected that it had something to do with growing up with money, taking it front granted and thus not comprehending its worse. But at least she didn’t dare think she was better than him, so she was that sensible at least. Although it was the last word he’d describe her with. No, if he were to describe Radha “Haven” Dastoor, he’d probably start with insipid, senseless, and downright delusional. But she was also. .  .not an unengaging conversationalist. The reverse, actually. “The Mughals were constantly trying to invade Mumbai,” Haven explained, while Shaw nodded along. He was interested in architecture, and in martial history. “But as much of India as they had conquered, the native Marathis were just as constantly pushing them back. It was touch and go for decades. It surprises me that a Mughal structure remained without being torn down, though it was taken over.” “The native Marathis, you say---are Mughals not native? Or merely from another part of India?” “Well, that’s a complicated question, and the answer is a controversial one, so I till try to explain it as neutrally as I can,” Haven replied, and she indeed sounded neutral. They were standing together on the jharoka, an elaborately carved balcony with a roof, each with a glass of nimbu pani, though Shaw would have preferred a good Scotch. “The Mughal Empire in South Asia was begun by Babur, who came from Central Asia, specifically what is today Uzbekistan. His tribe was of Mongol origin, and the word Mughal is itself derived from “Mongol”. He actually came to South Asia to escape his fellow Uzbeks---it’s a very long story--but instead of being a refugee, he became a conqueror, starting by burning Lahore for two days and killing the last Sultan of the Lodi dynasty in Delhi, and the Lodi dynasty itself was not Indian, but Afghan. India was colonized by the Middle East long before Europe decided to try its hand. But to answer your question. . .they did not begin as Indian, no, but they were a part of our country for two hundred years and left a deep mark in our culture---clothing, food, language, art, and, of course, the buildings. But, the same could also be said of the British, and you would be hard-pressed to find anyone, including myself, who considers the British Raj to have been “Indian” simply because they were there for a long time and forced their ways upon us. At the same time, my mother is a Parsi, a people who originate from Iran, thousands of years ago---Parsi comes from “Persian”. And how can one tell me my mother, who was born and raised here, whose mother’s mothers and father’s fathers were born and raised here, that she was not Indian? And though Babur came from elsewhere, his sons and successors were born and raised here, and often to Indian mothers, and their descendants dwell here still, with no other homeland, so are they not Indian? Because if they were not, then perhaps I am not either, at least by half. Ultimately. . . it depends which Mughals, at what time period, and whom you ask, I suppose.” “And I suppose there’s also a difference between ethnicity and nationality to be considered,” Shaw said, though Haven was now losing his interest with this topic. He’d been more interest in the invasions and warring. “Ethnically, one can be anything, and still nationally be American if you were born there or otherwise have citizenship. But, I suppose you need not contemplate such matters anymore--” He cracked a wry smile as she, with a questioning look, awaited the rest of his sentence. “---after all, we are all Krakoan now, are we not? We’re all mutants, and that’s the only thing that matters.” Haven smiled back, not wryly but sincerely, “Oh, I am now, yes. But I am also still everything I was before. I have been balancing multiple identities my entire life Mr. Shaw, I believe I shall be able to continue to do so. But I must confess--” A moment of hesitation. “--I do not truly think of myself as a mutant yet.” She was not sure what reaction that she had expected to this confession, but it was not what Shaw said next. “I don’t either, Ms. Dastoor.” She looked at him in surprise. “Or rather,” he elaborated, “I do not consider myself a mutant in any sense other than in the way I consider myself to have black hair. It’s a physical fact, but nothing else. It is not a “culture” or “identity” to me, and in truth I find such attitudes to be foolish and even dangerous, not to mention a sign that an individual lacks their own personality and convictions and thus must merely default to group identity politics. Being a mutant tells you nothing about me, Ms. Dastoor, and so if I were to talk about who I am, that’s not something I’d include any more than my eye color.” “That’s an especially interesting perspective from someone on Krakoa’s Council,” said Haven, sounding very curious, “Could I ask you---” But her voice was cut off by the unmistakable sound of gunshots---and from INSIDE the building. “The children!” Haven exclaimed. It was not just her and Shaw that were lodged at The Rajmani tonight; it was where the mutants they had rescued were staying before the journey to the nearest portal tomorrow. And most were, indeed, children. As quickly as she spoke, she was moving back inside from the jharoka, but Shaw grabbed her by the elbow, easily holding her back despite her not being a small or weak woman despite her gentle demeanor. Haven was large, and could carry a grown man. But Shaw didn’t even need to be rough to halt her. “You stay put,” he said sternly, “The guards will handle this.” “Mr. Shaw---” “They are better equipped than you, Ms. Dastoor, you will only interfere--” Shaw and Haven had, of course, not come alone. Shaw had brought several trained mutants on his own payroll---not everyone needed to be one of the X-Men to be capable of handling a few humans and their toys--and they had been tasked with keeping watch over, as Shaw had earlier referred to them as, the latest flock of Krakoa’s little sheep. A statement Haven had also wondered about, though it was far from her mind now. Haven might have been about to argue with him. She might have been about to admit he was right, and she should hang back. But as with her question, she was cut off by a gunshot as she turned her face back to him and started to speak. A gunshot, and bullet through the back of her head. It exited through her right eye, and bounced off Shaw’s face and fell to the floor. She would have as well, had he not caught her as she crumpled. When her healing factor had repaired her enough that she regained consciousness, she was on Krakoa again, as were all the refugees, safe and sound. And so was Shaw. “Well, Ms. Dastoor,” he said, “You’ve been murdered---or rather, nearly so--by perfect strangers for a quirk of your genetics. Nothing can make you more of a mutant than that, wouldn’t you agree?” Haven smiled slightly, “I feel as much a mutant as perhaps a Mughal might feel Indian, Mr. Shaw. Take that as you will.” He took it ambiguously. Which was indeed how she had meant it. == END==

[gremlin-writes-angst]

The Three Kingdoms

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

TW: Homophobia, internalized homophobia, implied transphobia(very brief), religious trauma

If I missed a trigger or if you spot a spelling mistake, please let me know. Feedback is encouraged.

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There was so much going on and yet it wasn't overwhelming, it was almost perfect. There were sounds of people happily chatting, wedding bells, and songs slightly louder played in the distance. The colorful glass from the church window shined on the people in the church. The church was packed for a royal wedding and at the altar, there was prince Kaminari but instead of a beautiful bride opposite him, there was a handsome knight from the enemy kingdom. The priest started the ceremony, the two grooms said their vows and kissed. It was anything less than magical. The priest began to announce the kingdoms’ new rulers.

"Lady's and Gent’s I introduce to you, your new Kings. King Denki Kaminari and King Eijiro Kiris--"

Before the priest finished his announcement the large church doors were opened and the...priest who was previously standing next to the kings, had teleported to the church’s entrance.

" I will not follow the rule of sinners like you" 

Suddenly all the happy wedding goers disappeared and reappeared behind the angry priest, joining him in ridiculing of the two kings

"We will not follow the devil"

"Our prince has been tainted by the devil"

The priest raises his hand and the crowd quiets down, Denki questions the priest

"What are you doing? You were just announcing us as the new kings and know you're over there protesting our marriage? YOU’RE THE MARRIAGE OFFICIANT?"

The priest ignored his King’s questions.

" Denki listen to me, the thing you married is the devil, he used his powers to make you believe you love him, but I know that you could never fall for another man. I can help you, just come to my side and I can exorcise that demon." 

The priest offers his hand out, then the rest of the people behind him do the same.

" Denki, they're lying, you know that they are trying to get in your head. I do love and you love me." 

Kirishima stood closer to Denki, also offering his hand to Denki. Denki looked between the two choices, he looks at the priest’s group, he sees his friends and family inside the crowd, telling him that the love of his life is the devil and he knows that they'll leave him if he stays with Kirishima. Could they be right? Did he love Kirishima, or was it just a trick? He meant every word of what he said in his vows, he spent days on his vows, he wanted to make sure Kirishima knew how much he loved him.  So they were wrong, he did love Kirishima, their love for each other was no trick. But if he chooses Kirishima he’ll lose all his friends, family, and his whole kingdom. Denki stressed over who to choose, the mob became louder and more aggressive while he thought but before he could make a choice, Denki woke up.

A dream? A nightmare? Why was I getting married, to a man, to a knight from the enemy kingdom? Why was I married to Eijiro Kirishima? It was a stupid dream, I would never marry a man, the kingdom was right, Eijiro Kirishima was the devil, the dream must be a warning to avoid the knight in the cellar. It can't be that hard, he’s just in the cellar that's in the basement dungeon, the key to said dungeon door was on the wall and the guard was always asleep. Ok, this was going to be hard, it's just too easy not to visit the Red Riot.

The day goes by quickly, but then night falls and I remember how easy it is to get to the cellar, how my dream is just a dream. How handsome the knight is. How sweet his voice is. How he waits up for me. How he stopped me from hitting my head. Before I knew it I was in front of the dungeon door with the keys in hand, but the thought of losing everything I know stopped me from going down. I silently returned the keys and went back to my room and slept, the dream repeated that night, and yet the pressure to choose felt even more stressful.

It was dusk again, I don’t remember the hours before now, but I was back at the door with the keys. I stand there for a while until eventually, I think

“It was just a dream.” 

So I unlock the door and descend down the stairs. Every step I take makes me more anxious, I repeat to myself that it was just a dream, my friends won’t leave me, I won’t be banished. I mean it doesn’t even make sense, I would never marry a guy, especially that brute in our dungeon, I barely even know him, and it's sinful.

“Then why are you going to see him?”

It’s a question in the back of my mind, and I don’t have an answer. It’s definitely not because he has a smooth husky voice or his muscular body, and it has nothing to do with his caring words that match his action. I am broken from my thoughts when said husky voice speaks

“If you keep walking you’ll end up hitting the wall”

I must have been so caught in thought because he was right, I walked right past him and was about to walk into the wall. I stay facing this wall, I wasn’t ready to face him, I mean I married him twice in my dreams, it is disgusting.

“Thanks, I guess”

“ No problem but are you going to turn around, I mean it’s kind of weird talking to the back of your head, especially when the front is so beautiful.”

I forget about the dream and why I was reluctant to turn around and l whip my body around and march towards his cell while accusing him of my dream.

“It’s your fault, you’re the reason, I’m not the evil one, it’s because you’re the devil. You sit there and you spew compliments at me, another man, from a rivaling kingdom, such words should be said to a woman!”

“ Sorry if I offended you, I was just telling the truth and if it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll stop but I thought it was mutual” “What in the hell gave you that idea”

“uh the lustful gaze you keep giving me”

“Lus-lustful gaze, I do no such thing, and especially not to you”

“So then what was that look on your face when you heard my voice, why did you constantly look at my arms like they were turkey legs”

“ it -it - it was ugggg”

“Because that’s the same look the women give me…which is unfortunate for them because I’ve only ever looked at men with such a gaze.”

“ But that’s sinful, you are tainted, I should leave and never return.”

I walk to the stairwell with the full intent of doing what I just said.

“That won’t stop the feelings you are having”

I turn back around, full of frustration, I reach through the bars and pull the hunk closer to me.

“Then take your stupid spell off, I can-cant be . . . I can’t be like you, I just can’t, you understand right. Even as the devil you have to understand what this will do to me, I don’t deserve that, I don’t want god to hate me or my family or friends. I deserve to love who I want without feeling like the worst human in existence!”

I pause and quickly whip the tears off my face. I look up at the knight, his face is full of sorrow, he looks sad . . . for me. I let go and fall to my knees, replay what I said, I try to find justification for it, I think of the dream. I was happy, I was loved and I was loving someone else. What if I am like the knight? The knight leans down

“ I can’t say I understand the mental fight that’s happening in your brain because I came from a palace where this wasn’t something I need to worry about but listen.”

The knight’s hand slowly reaches for my chin, his hands are calloused like most knights, yet his hands are still comfortable and somehow soft. I let him lift my chin up so I’m looking into his eyes, there like rubies, or sapphires

“Or like the pits of hell”

I ignore the thought and continue to stare into the knight’s eyes as he tries to comfort me.

“ The person you love isn’t a choice, it’s fate, and if God hates you for what you can’t control, then he isn’t manly nor does he deserve such a title. Hate is a choice, love isn’t.”

I get lost in his eyes for a little bit, but when I realize it I turn away, a little more aggressively than I wanted to. I move away and take a seat on the bench that is meant for the guards, I don’t want to leave but I can’t find it in me to talk, even though I hate the silence. I sit there staring at the ground feeling awkward, the knight must have felt the same way about silence because he started talking.

“ um back at my kingdom, the Toyomitsu kingdom, there real accepting of such things, like I’m our queen was born a prince”

I’ve heard of a man loving a man or woman loving a woman but this wasn’t something I had heard of. With my eyes still planted to the ground, I asked.

“ What does that mean?”

I could hear shifting from the cell but I refused to lookup 

“Oh uh sorry, I forget that our kingdom is more progressive and more diverse. So basically our queen was born like us, she had our body parts, but she wasn’t.”

“I still don’t understand”

“Ugg this is hard, so she felt like her brain and body weren’t the same, like her brain said, ‘Your a girl’ but her body parts were male parts.”

“So she is a girl but had a body similar to ours”

“ Yeah exactly, but she’s better at explaining it because, well she lives through it.”

“ So she’s your queen, what about children, whos going to take over the throne”

“ Oh her and the king have a kid, he’s just adopted but he’s still their son and still the rightful prince, he's gonna be a great king. Oh, anyways I was gonna say that our kingdom is really accepting and if you need they’ll probably let you in if you ever wanted to leave here.”

In shock, I lift my head for the first time since I sat on this bench

“Even though I'm the prince of the rival kingdom?”

“ We don’t care that much about this rivalry. So yeah you would be fine”

“ If they don’t care why are you here?”

“ Well because our kingdom is so diverse and recently outside kingdoms have discovered that the queen is trans, which is the term for that situation, by the way, I think I forgot to mention that. Anyway, the King is worried about future attack’s so he sent out multiple knights to different kingdoms.”

“Oh so we’re not your only threat”

“Your not even a threat, your kingdom is crumbling”

“Oh wow thanks, I’ll remember that when I become king.”

“ You mean IF you become king”

“What is that suppose to mean ‘Red Riot’”

For the rest of the night, I joked and listened to Kirishima’s stories. I wish to see his home kingdom one day it sounds pretty cool. Before I knew it I was asleep and having another dream. It was different, there were no choices or stress. It was just Kirishima and me out on a hill having a picnic, eating food together, he fed me strawberries and the dream ended with a kiss, maybe falling for the knight wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe my wedding dream was a warning about my kingdom and not Kirishima. I woke up and realized I was still in the dungeon, and that it was almost time for the guards check up on Kirishima, so I started to sneak back up to my room, I successfully avoided the guards on my way there, I acted as if nothing happened, I’m a pretty good actor if I do say so myself.

In the king’s throne room, a royal knight is kneeling before his king, he comes with important information.

“Lord Kaminari, I found the dungeon door unlocked and the keys on the guard bench this morning”

“ Well don’t leave them there”

“ I didn’t sir, I believe someone is sneaking into the dungeon at night.”

“ How would that be possible, we have Shinsou guarding the keys at night?”

“ I believe that he may have fallen asleep on duty.”

“ Well we can’t afford to get new guards or to switch any of the guard’s jobs, just move the keys to a new location along with Shinsou, Shinsou will continue to guard them. I want you to keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

“Yes Sir”

“You are now dismissed Monoma.”

All characters belong to Horikoshi and his series Boku No Hero Academia

[cosplaydude637]

Special Part 1: Shadow Natural,

The year 2014

So much has happened in the last year. Alec became Console, Clary and Jace got engaged, the war with the Cohort was still ongoing, and little has been seen of the Seelie queen. With all this going on Magnus felt like it was a good idea to take Alec out for a date night to the movies. This strange tale starts as the two men are walking out of the theater holding hands.

As they round a corner into a back alley walking home the hair on the back of Alec’s neck starts to tingle. When this happens it usually means he is being followed. The two men spun around, Magnus had just enough time to throw up a blue flame-covered hand to stop a bullet inches from his face.

Alec draws a seraph blade from his belt and calls out “Cassiel” and the blade shoots out and lights up the alley. Before them stands two mundanes. One was tall with shaggy light brown hair and his gun was trained on Magnus. The other man was short with spiky brown hair and a look of complete shock was on his face as he lowered his smoking gun. “Son of a Bitch!” He shouts.

Magnus flicks a finger and sends the bullet flying back at the two men. They dive out of the way and roll into a ball then jump up their guns amed back at Magnus. But now Alec was not standing there he was behind them and held his seraph blade at the tail man's throat. “Put them down, I really don’t want to kill a mundane.” Alec states.

The tail man looks at the short one. “Dean just kill this warlock”

“I really would not do that. My husband is very good with his seraph blades.” Magnus says smiling at Alec.

“Sammy, why is a warlock smiling at you like that?” Dean asks

“Not me, the man behind me.” Sam answers.

“I mean it, have your boyfriend drop the gun and you do the same,” Alec says, rubbing his blade on Sam's throat drawing a little blood.

“Really come on, he is my Brother. Why do all you monsters seem to think we are gay.” Dean snaps. This moment gave Magnus the opening he needed and he twisted his hand and blue flames shouted out and sent Dean flying into the wall.

“I am so going to kill you for that! And your boy toy monster!” Sam yells and Magnus wiggles his fingers at Sam.

“The only monster I see here is you and your brother. My husband is a Nephilim and a high-ranking one so watch how you talk to him.” Magnus says and is tackled to the ground by Dean.

“Sam, will you kill that thing already!” Dean says drawing a silver hunting knife. Dean however was not able to use his weapon as two long swords were now at his throat. Holding them was Jace and Clary

“You really don’t want to do that, mister. My parabatai really would not like it if you killed his husband and you don’t want to see a heartbroken and mad Shadowhunter” Jace says with a shit-eating grin.

“A what?” Sam asks, shocked, his eyes Widening.

“We are Shadowhunters and this warlock is protected,” Clary says.

“Hold on, hold on we are hunters two,” Dean says holding up his hands.

“You know you're cute and all but I am happily married so get off me!” Magnus yells Dean slow rose as did the two swords. Magnus gets up and dusts off.

“Ok guys let’s just talk about this, we are all hunters here,” Sam says in a calm voice.

“You're mundane, not one of us,” Jace says, looking over at Sam.

“We are not mundane, we are human!” Dean shouts.

“It’s the same thing,” Clary says softly.

“If your hunters like us then you're human too,” Dean adds.

“We are Shadowhunters also known as the Nephilim,” Alec explains

“What the Hell is a Nephilim?” Dean asks.

“There children of Angels,” Sam says looking very shocked now he has gone pale white.

“That’s right, we are the children of Raziel,” Jace says with a bright smile.

“Oh Great, So your dicks.” Dean says and is slapped by Magnus. “Hey!”

“Watch how you talk about my husband and friends. I understand now, you Human Hunters. You're so lost and don’t even know it.” Magnus says looking at the two men.

“Human hunters?” Clary asks.

“As you know, some mundane can see the shadow world. A few of them become what they call Hunters and battle the darkness” Magnus explains.

Alec steps away from Sam and lowers his blade and nods at Jace and Clary to do the same. They do and Dean and Sam put their weapons away also.

“Guess that explains why they could see us,” Jace says and tapes his unseen ruin.

“Nice tat but what’s it got to do with anything?” Dean asks.

“Dean, that's an Angelic Mark.” Sam states.

“If you did not have the sight, you would not be able to see Jace and me. Oh, I am Clary by the way. This is Alec and Magnus.” She says and points out to everyone.

“I am Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean,” Sam says.

“No Way!” Clary shouts kind of fangirl style.

“Biscuit, do you know them?” Magnus asks, quivering an eyebrow.

“Kind of, I mean I thought they were just Characters in the Supernatural books,” Clary replaces.

“I swear to Chuck I hate those books!” Dean shouts

“Chuck?” Clary asks.

“It’s a long story,” Sam says with a half-smile.

“Not that I don’t love all this witty banter but why are Hunters in this city?” Magnus questions.

“Oh we are after a Witch and we thought it was Him.” Dean points at Magnus.

“Do you have a name for this Witch?” Jace asks, still glaring at the two brothers.

“No, we just know she has a thing about using purple fire.” Sam respawns. Alec, Jace, Clary, and Magnus all exchange a look of shock.

“Purple fire you say?” Magnus inquiries as Alec walks next to him.

“Ya some witch been going all over the U.S. causing all kind of crap and we got wind the witch be in new york so we hoped in my baby and hauled ass here,” Dean explained

“Baby?” Alec states looking very confused.

“His Car.” Sam and Clary say at the same time.

“Anyway, children.” Magnus snaps his fingers. “The one you seek her name is Sinira, she is a warlock.” He finishes

“I thought only guys could be warlocks?” Dean scratches the top of his head a quizzes look on his face.

“How very sexiest of you my dear boy. Warlock is a race, not a title. Most of the people you've been dealing with are just Mundanes playing with magic they do not understand,” Magnus states with a playful wink.

“Fine, whatever, I don't care as long as the Bitch dies!” Dean snaps.

“Hold on Dean, these guys seem to have a lot more info than us,” Sam says, laying a soft hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“You guys can’t kill her… I have read all about you but this is one fight that you are way out of your league,” Clary gives them a kind smile.

“We will deal with Sinira, you can be on your way,” Jace gives the two brothers a shooing motion.

Just then Xander, one of the young shadowhunters, comes running up to the group. He looks like he has been in a battle black inking substances are splattered all over him. He doubles over out of breath right in front of Alec.

“Xander, what are you doing here?” Alec looks at the young boy. “Is that icor?”

“What's Icor,” Dean whispers over to his brother. Sam just shrugs.

“Imp Demons in time square… Izzy and Simon there but… getting overrun.” Xander says between gasps for air.

“Xander, why did you not have an endurance ruin on?” Clary asks.

“I did, how do you think I got all the way here from time square?” Xander spouts out fine catching his breath.

“Magnus can you portal us there we need to help the others and we will need you to make a diversion for the Mundanes,” Alec asks softly.

Magnus nods and starts waving his hands around as blue fire comes from them and slowly a circular portal starts to open. Through the glimmering surface of the portal 42 street can be seen. Without looking Jace and Clary darted through the portal followed by Xander. Alec looks over at the two brothers. “Leave Sirina to us.” Alec says and darts through the portal.

“Aren’t imps like little pests things?” Dean asks.

“Yes but in large numbers they can be very dangerous.” Sam replays.

“Umm hello boys. Demons attacking humans kind of in your job description.” Magnus shouts and points to the still open portal. Sam and Dean Exchange a look then jump into the portal like they were diving into a pool. Magnus just shakes his head and walks through the portal.

Time square was a scene of complete horror. People running everywhere and tons of little monsters attacking them.

They were maybe a foot tall but they were in all different colors and sizes. On their backs were small devil-like wings.

When Dean and Sam come through the portal they see that most of Shadowhunters where battling the imps wall a small group are ushering the normal People out of the area.

Magnus steps through the portal “you two going to just stand there or help out?”

Dean and Sam draw their guns and exchange a look then nod running towards the battle.

“Um boys your little pea shouters won’t help here.” Magnus says with a chaser cat grin.

“Wall it’s what we got.” Sam says

“And they have never failed us yet. We found you can shoot most things dead!” Dean adds in very snarky.

“Boy boys boys you have barely glimpsed the Shadow World.” Magnus snaps his fingers and blue Sparks fly out. A long brod sword appeared strapped onto Dean's left hip and two short swords appeared on Sam’s back. “Try them out.” Magnus wings at the two boys and runs over to help Alec fight off a group of imps.

“I think he was flirting with us?” Dean says.

Sam puts away his gun and draws his swords. Dean follows suit and draws out his long sword. “Hey Sammy look… By the power of Gray skull!” Dean yells out, thrusting his sword into the air.

“Hey He-man you want to use that sword of power and help out or what!” Simon snaps shooting an arrow through the head of an imp.

“Wow, nice shot.” Sam says and runs over to help in the fight.

“I was just trying to….” Dean's face is covered in black inky blood. He whips his eyes clear to see Jace with his sword held out in front of Dean. Dean stumbles back and looking down he sees the body of a imp split in two.

“That sword is not a toy. Use it or get the hell out of here!” Jace snaps and spends on his heels decapitating the heads of two more imps.

Dean's face changes from one of shock into a saturn and determined look and stud back to back with Jace. “Me and you are going to have words after this is over.”

To be continued!!!

[qqueenofhades]

“This is because poor white people have been systematically conditioned to support white supremacy at the direct expense of their own economic and social interests; it’s terrible, but that’s how it functions.” Do you think the rich white overlords have also been conditioned to support the system?

“while disdaining the government as tyrannical the rest of the time, unless it’s Trump’s actively tyrannical lot, but hey, we don’t have time to unpack all that)” Can you unpack some of that? I don’t understand. Thanks. Love your political posts. 

Sure!

(If anyone’s wondering, this is carrying on from/in reference to this ask from yesterday on how to dismantle arguments about “I’m white and my life has been hard therefore racism isn’t real.”)

The third part of the white supremacist equation in America, aside from racism and capitalism, is religion, especially fundamentalist and evangelical Christianity. We didn’t get to that in the last ask, but it’s an equally important factor in the social and cultural landscape of this particular demographic -- especially because the GOP has essentially become its political manifestation, and religious conservatism has become tied so deeply to a set of hot-button social issues (immigration, the gays, abortion, etc). As a lot of social scientists and lay observers have noted, religious belief in America remains staggeringly high relative to the rest of the industrialized Western world. Ever since the rise of religious conservatives as a mobilised political force in the 1980s, we have had to deal with their influence and the GOP’s willingness to function as an eager and uncritical vehicle for their social agenda. Fundamentalist/evangelical Christianity in America has also served as a powerful tool of promoting white supremacy. In fundamentalist religions, it’s a sin to question anything you’re told and you have to trust that a “higher authority” has your best interests at heart. This lends itself easily to personality cults: think the charismatic mega-preachers and other high-profile figures that exist in mainstream and fringe American evangelicalism alike, as well as the cult of Trump that now exists around the Orange Fuhrer.

Some books on this:

The Sin of White Supremacy: Christianity, Racism, and Religious Diversity in America, by Jeannine Hill Fletcher

White Too Long: The Legacy of White Supremacy in American Christianity by Robert P. Jones (you can also read a Washington Post interview with him here, and his piece in The Atlantic here.)

The Cult of Trump by Steven Hassan

When you intertwine the moral imperatives of fundamentalist religion (if you don’t believe the right things, you’ll go to hell), with the centuries-old American system of prizing whiteness at the expense of everything else, with the belief that your rich white overlords are more “your people” than your differently-colored working-class peers, you get an incredibly powerful and coercive system of mental conditioning that works on multiple levels, constantly reinforces itself, and is very difficult to break away from. And frankly, it’s difficult to tell if the most high-profile mouthpieces of these views actually believe it (maybe to some degree) or if they just use it to obtain a comfortable life at the expense of vulnerable people. Honestly, I’m not sure if it matters whether or not the overlords believe everything they themselves teach (and I’m pretty certain that they don’t). They know that it ends up as a good deal for them, and so it’s in their interests to maintain the system as vigorously as possible.

You may have heard of “prosperity gospel” evangelists, who claim to their poor followers that if they give them, the evangelists, all their money as a demonstration of faith, God will automatically reward them/provide for their economic needs, and it’s a sign of too little faith if you don’t believe this, therefore you will stay poor. You may have also heard of the recent sex scandal involving Jerry Falwell Jr., son of the famous Jerry Falwell and current president (though he was forced to resign) of the ultra-fundamentalist Liberty University in Virginia. This, of course, goes up there with all the other hard-right politicians who preached family values and Moral Purity and then turned out to be hypocrites who were failing to live up to these ideas in private. American evangelicalism is a deeply weird and self-reinforcing universe that provides adherents with everything they need to live in a parallel version of reality and feel holier-than-thou about not interacting with “infidels,” and yes, a huge part of that, especially white Protestant evangelicalism, involves preaching the gospel of white supremacy, implicitly or explicitly.

So at the end of this, we have a system which orchestrates and indeed insists upon complete obedience to the overlords (be they economic, racial, or religious) by the underclass at every turn. As I noted above, the rich white overlords themselves know that they benefit immensely from this setup, so the question of whether or not they actually believe it is less important. As also noted, they sure don’t make any attempt to live up to it in private, or at least trust that they won’t be found out if they don’t. That’s because (at least in my opinion) they know perfectly well that it sucks. They don’t want to be poor either, but it’s useful for them if there are poor people. Fundamentalism is also deeply predicated on suffering: it’s holy to suffer, poverty is a virtue, you shouldn’t worry about this world so much as what you will get after you die, thinking about material things is Sinful, God will magically provide everything that you need, so on and so forth. So even if they’re voting against their own self-interests, white working class religious people have been assured that is a virtue anyway and they should keep doing it. Only heathens like socialism.

That also makes it harder to get any dialogue of social justice going in (white) churches. Black churches have obviously been at the forefront of social justice struggles in America for their entire history, but that’s because white and black American Christianity are often very different. There are overlaps in places, but the black church was founded in the slave tradition, rather than the slaveholder tradition, as the establishment church in the 19th century was often a zealous supporter of slavery for the “moral good” of the slaves -- hey, they might be in terrible bondage, but at least they had the chance to be saved by becoming Christians! White Americans tend to go to church to be reassured that what they’re doing is good and doesn’t need to change, or if it does need to be changed, it’s to outlaw abortion or gay marriage or whatever social issue is the order of the day. It’s founded on repression rather than liberation. This isn’t true of every church everywhere, of course, but the overall trend is one toward social and religious hyper-conservatism.

This ties into the “civic faith” of America, i.e. the sphere of cultural Christianity that everyone participates in whether they’re actively religious or not, and which has also been the subject of political studies as to how it has been twisted into an organ of feel-good jingoistic American nationalism with very little reference to what Jesus Christ is recorded as having actually taught. The point again is that this entire belief system prizes absolute obedience and adherence to a (white and male) Supreme Leader, which is really easy for a fascist to exploit with populist rhetoric draped in the shabbiest veneer of religious language. The enthusiastic evangelical support for Trump, and the way the religious right has bent over backward from trying to impeach Bill Clinton for a blowjob in the Oval Office to defending serial rapist Trump is... both enlightening and terribly depressing. (Not to say that Clinton isn’t gross, because he is, but that’s beside the point; the GOP went on a frothing-mouth moral crusade over his behavior and it’s absolute crickets over Trump.)

In the end, we have this entire subset of people who have argued that they need their guns and their paramilitary organizations to defend against a theoretical “tyrannical” (read: non-white, non-Christian) body politic or American government. That’s why we had constant claims that Obama was going to throw people into concentration camps or send federal agents to arrest people off the streets or turn America into a military dictatorship; these proud AR-15-waving nutcases were happy to inform us that they would rise up and prevent that from happening. Of course, Obama didn’t actually do any of that, but you know who did? Trump. And his supporters, of course, didn’t make any attempt to stop it from happening. Instead they actively went out to help it happen more. (Side note: a little racist shitstain literally named RITTENHOUSE being the face of armed and murderous white supremacy in the Kenosha protests is like... ridiculously on the nose, PAGING GARCIA FLYNN.)

So when I say they’re protesting “government tyranny,” we’ve already gotten a good look at what they imagine tyranny to be: i.e. anything except the actual tyranny we’re already enduring, because it’s coming from their orange messiah and it is the culmination of everything that their religious, political, social, and cultural values have taught them. They mean “tyranny” of anything that is not their extreme right-wing, white-supremacist, religious-fundamentalist fascist version of things, which means respect or tolerance or room for anyone who isn’t exactly like them, which they can’t abide. Totalitarianism never can.

Anyway, I hope that was helpful. Thanks for the question!