#bao's main page

[bao4aohao]

WELCOME EVERYONE!

about me | masterlist | dni | meme list

ONGOING

teacher's pet - t.kei (yandere!teacher x student)

COMING SOON..

die with a smile - b.katsuki bookshop - t.kei

© all works are done by @ bao4aohao do not copy/rewrite/steal thank you.

[sixeyesonathiel]

infinite void? more like infinite errands!

being married to the strongest sorcerer has its perks—like teleporting across continents for pudding at 3am—but for gojo satoru, nothing could have prepared him for the emotional rollercoaster that is your cravings. between taho diplomacy, gummy-related interrogations, and gelato-fueled meltdowns, he faces his most terrifying foe yet: love, in its most hormonal, snack-obsessed form.

a/n: enjoy the 6k words of satoru suffering, simping, teleporting, and getting emotionally whiplashed by the love of his life <3 i’m literally dozing off while formatting and proofreading this, if you see any error pls tell... i sleep now 😪

even gojo satoru—the strongest sorcerer alive—trembles before the wrath of his pregnant wife’s 3am food demands.

the curtains are drawn shut, casting a warm, drowsy amber across the bedroom. outside, the soft hum of cicadas lingers in the summer air. inside, you’re nestled in a fortress of pillows like some spoiled, slightly overcooked bao bun, one leg propped atop a plush bolster and the other tucked under a heating pad. the air smells faintly of lavender balm and something vaguely sugary—leftover cravings from the previous night.

satoru sits at the edge of the bed, thumbing through a baby names book with one hand and absentmindedly holding your ankle in the other, gently massaging in slow, practiced circles. he’s wearing a navy blue hoodie with the sleeves bunched up around his elbows, silver hair mussed from sleep and sticking up like the petals of a windswept flower. his blindfold is pushed up into his hair, revealing the full brilliance of his eyes, which scan the pages with a kind of amused seriousness. the light catches on his long eyelashes as he blinks, casting delicate shadows on his cheekbones.

“how about... ‘tangerine’? no? okay, okay—‘yuzu’?” he glances up at you with a teasing glint in his eye, the corner of his mouth quirking upward as his thumb draws a gentle circle around your ankle bone.

you don’t even open your eyes. “that’s a fruit.” your voice is muffled, cheek squished against a pillow, a strand of hair stuck to your slightly parted lips.

“so’s our baby, technically,” he grins, pushing his thumb slightly deeper into a sore spot near your heel. “a little fruit of our loins—” his eyebrows dance mischievously as he speaks, fingers drumming playfully against your skin.

“satoru.” you scrunch your nose in mock annoyance, shifting slightly against the pillows.

“right, sorry. sacred temple. your womb is a sacred temple.” he straightens his posture dramatically, placing his free hand over his heart with exaggerated reverence.

you groan into the pillow, but your toes curl at the ankle massage. then suddenly you bolt upright, eyes flashing. “did you just compare our CHILD to FRUIT?” your hair falls messily around your face as you rise, one sleeve of your oversized t-shirt slipping off your shoulder.

he freezes, thumb mid-massage, his confident smile faltering. “i—well, technically the size comparison apps do that all the—” he swallows visibly, adam’s apple bobbing as he realizes his tactical error, fingers stilling on your ankle.

“our baby is NOT an AVOCADO!” you shriek, tears already forming, your lower lip quivering dangerously as you clutch the nearest pillow to your chest.

“of course not!” he backtracks frantically, dropping the book with a soft thud onto the carpet. “more like... a sacred vessel? a divine manifestation? the culmination of—” his hands gesture wildly in the air, silver rings catching the light as he searches for appropriate words.

“i want taho,” you interrupt, mood switching instantly, voice honey-sweet again, batting your eyelashes as you tilt your head to one side.

“taho,” he repeats, relieved for the simple request, shoulders visibly relaxing as he brushes a strand of hair from his forehead.

“but not from the vendor on the main street,” you continue, your expression dead serious, finger wagging for emphasis. “it has to be from the old man who sets up by the mango trees. and only if he’s using the special brown sugar from his cousin’s farm, not the store-bought kind. you can tell by the smell—it’s more molasses-y. and make sure he gives you extra arnibal, but not too extra, like three tablespoons extra, not four. and the tofu needs to be from this morning’s batch—if it’s from yesterday, it’ll be too firm. the silken texture should wobble EXACTLY three times when you shake the container gently. oh, and ask him to put the sago pearls on the side, not mixed in, so they don’t get too soft on the journey back. and the container needs to be warm but not hot, like exactly the temperature of a baby’s bath water.” you count each requirement on your fingers, leaning forward with increasing intensity.

he’s gone before you finish the sentence, a soft whoosh of cursed energy rippling through the room, leaving behind the faintest crackle in the air and the subtle displacement of the bedsheets where he once sat. no sparkles or dramatic flair—just quiet efficiency. he’s done this too many times to make a show of it anymore.

five minutes later, he’s back, hair tousled by wind, hoodie now zipped halfway up and clinging to him like he’d been sprinting through alleys. his cheeks are slightly pink from the sun, a thin film of sweat glistening at his temples.

“manong said i looked too pale to be out in the sun,” he mutters, placing the warm taho container in your waiting hands with reverence, his long fingers brushing against yours. “he gave me extra arnibal out of pity.” he smooths down his windblown hair with quick, slightly embarrassed movements.

you sit up, eyes half-lidded with sleep but sparkling with delight. “tell him your wife’s a goddess carrying divine offspring next time.” you wiggle your eyebrows, accepting the container with grabby hands.

“i did,” he says, dropping to sit beside you and poking a straw into the taho, his knee bumping playfully against yours. “he gave me a thumbs up and told me to ‘hang in there, hijo.’” he mimics the old vendor’s gravelly voice, complete with a sage nod.

you snort, mouth full of silky tofu and syrup. “you’ve become a local.” a small dribble of syrup escapes the corner of your mouth.

then you pause, straw halfway to your mouth. “wait. what did you tell him about me exactly?” your eyes narrow suspiciously, straw frozen in midair.

satoru looks up, sensing danger. “just that my beautiful wife is pregnant and craving taho?” he leans slightly away from you, instinctively creating distance as he senses the mood shift.

“did you tell him i’m enormous?” your eyes narrow further, nostrils flaring slightly. “did you make the universal ‘big belly’ gesture with your hands? did you MIME my WADDLE?”

“what? no!” his eyes widen in genuine panic, hands raised defensively. “i would never—” his rings catch the light as his fingers splay in protest.

“because i DO waddle,” you continue, lower lip trembling, your hands moving to cradle your belly protectively. “i waddle like a PENGUIN. a FAT penguin.” a tear slides dramatically down your cheek.

“you glide gracefully,” he insists, looking increasingly distressed, reaching for your hand with tentative movements. “like a... majestic... swan?” his voice rises at the end, betraying his uncertainty.

you burst into tears. “swans have LONG NECKS. are you saying my NECK is LONG?” you wail, shoulders shaking, sleeve slipping further down your arm.

“no! your neck is perfect! everything about you is perfect!” he’s practically pleading now, the mighty gojo satoru reduced to stammering, his usual composure completely shattered. “i love your waddle! i mean—your not-waddle! your walk! your everything!” he runs a hand through his hair in agitation, making it stand up even more wildly.

you take another sip of taho, suddenly calm again. “this is really good. thank you, baby.” you smile sweetly, all traces of distress vanishing as you delicately lick syrup from your lips.

he exhales slowly, shoulders slumping with visible relief, a hand pressed against his chest as if to calm his racing heart.

he leans in, stealing a bite with a second straw like you’re sharing a milkshake. his leg nudges against yours under the covers. “anything for my darling, my queen, my slightly hormonal ray of sunshine.” his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, the blue in them almost luminous in the amber light.

“i’m gonna cry.” your bottom lip wobbles dramatically, eyes immediately filling with tears again.

“is it the hormones or the taho?” he asks, thumb gently wiping a drop of syrup from your chin.

“yes.” you sniff loudly, leaning into his touch.

he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple, his fingers grazing the fine baby hairs at your nape. his palm moves to your belly, rubbing slow, warm circles through your oversized sleep shirt. “next craving, just say the word. i’ll be back before you can say ‘global import taxes.’” his breath is warm against your skin, his voice a low, comforting rumble.

“i want the sour rainbow gummy strips. the ones from that specific konbini in osaka. not the one near the train station—the one three blocks east with the cat that sits in the window. and it HAS to be the package with the blue corner, not the green one. the blue ones are more sour. and they need to be from the middle shelf, not the bottom one, because the bottom shelf ones get too warm from the heating vent. oh, and make sure they were stocked today, not yesterday. you can tell because the fresh ones have a slight bend in the plastic wrapper.” you count off each requirement on your fingers again, eyes bright with determination.

he exhales like a man being sent on a divine quest, but his eyes sparkle with determination. “for love, for honor, for vaguely sour artificial fruit flavors that meet seventeen specific criteria.” he gives a dramatic bow, hand flourishing over his heart.

and then—pop—he’s gone again, the air beside the bed displaced, your hair rustling slightly from the force.

you blink at the empty space where he’d been. then you sigh, deeply content. being married to the strongest sure has its perks.

thirty minutes later, he returns with a crinkly plastic bag and three different brands of rainbow gummies. his shirt is sticking to his back, and there’s a leaf tangled in his hair, which is now flattened on one side as if he’s been running his hand through it repeatedly.

“why did it take so long?” you raise a suspicious eyebrow, biting down on a chewy strip, your eyes narrowing as you examine his disheveled state.

he flops dramatically onto the bed, limbs splayed like a marionette cut from its strings. “turns out it’s a limited seasonal item. had to fight off three middle schoolers for the last pack. almost got arrested. worth it.” his chest rises and falls rapidly as he speaks, a thin sheen of sweat visible on his collarbone.

“you better have gotten me the fizzy ones.” you poke his side with your toe, examining the bag with critical eyes.

he holds them up like sacred relics, eyes sparkling with pride. “with extra sour powder. i had to charm the cashier.” he wiggles his eyebrows, a strand of hair falling across his forehead.

your expression shifts instantly from hunger to outright murderous. “you WHAT?” tears well up in your eyes faster than he can blink, your hands curling into claws. “so you’re just out there batting your pretty eyelashes at konbini girls while i’m here looking like a BEACHED WHALE?” your voice rises dramatically, one hand gesturing wildly at your belly.

“i—i didn’t mean—i just smiled i swear—!” he stammers, sitting up quickly, the leaf falling from his hair onto the bedspread.

“did she give you her number?” your voice rises an octave, hands curling into claws. “did you TAKE it?” your nostrils flare dangerously as you lean toward him.

“it was for the gummies!” he sputters, looking genuinely terrified for the first time since sukuna, pressing himself back against the headboard. “she was going to sell them to someone else!”

you burst into tears, full-on ugly crying now. “of course she was! everyone wants a piece of gojo satoru! meanwhile i can’t even see my own FEET!” you gesture dramatically at your legs, sleeves flapping with the motion.

he stares at you, bewildered and panicking. “love, darling, light of my—” his hands hover helplessly in the air between you, unsure whether touching you would help or make things worse.

you snatch the gummies from his hands and stuff three strips into your mouth at once. “i hope she was UGLY,” you mumble through your full mouth, tears still streaming, cheeks puffed out with candy.

“horrifically so,” he swears solemnly, though you both know he’s lying. “multiple heads. fangs. probably a curse in disguise.” he draws an X over his heart, eyes wide with false sincerity.

you narrow your eyes, then suddenly break into giggles, mood shifting like mercury. “you’re so full of shit.” a piece of candy falls from your mouth onto your shirt.

“you’re glowing with divine fury. it’s hot.” he grins, reaching out to brush the candy away, his fingers lingering on your shoulder.

“shut up and feed me before i change my mind about forgiving you.” you open your mouth like a baby bird, eyes challenging him.

he does, reverently. he even wipes the sugar dust from the corner of your lips with a soft tissue, fingertips lingering for half a second longer than necessary, like you might disappear if he doesn’t stay connected.

between bites, you mumble something about wanting a foot rub later. he nods solemnly like a knight accepting a royal decree, his hand already moving to your ankle.

the afternoon sun shifts through the curtains, painting gold across your shared bed. satoru has taken up his position at your feet again, thumbs working magic into your arches. you’ve half-dozed off, the sugar crash hitting hard after demolishing most of the gummies.

suddenly, you jolt awake. “i need pickles. but not just any pickles. i need the half-sour ones from that jewish deli in new york. the one with the red awning, not the blue one. and they have to come from the barrel on the left side, not the right side. the right side ones are too garlicky. and they need to have been brining for EXACTLY seven days—any less and they’re too cucumbery, any more and they’re too soft. and i need them sliced lengthwise, not in rounds. oh, and can you bring back some of their mustard too? but only if it’s the batch made on wednesday, because thursdays they add too much turmeric.” you sit up suddenly, hair wildly messy on one side, eyes bright with newfound purpose.

satoru blinks, trying to mentally record all these specifications, his brow furrowing in concentration. “anything else, my love?” he asks carefully, fingers pausing on your foot.

“yes. i need to dip them in chocolate pudding. not store-bought. it has to be the pudding from that café in paris with the blue chairs. the one that uses madagascar vanilla beans and that specific brand of dark chocolate that’s 73.5% cacao, not 70%, not 75%.” you clasp your hands together as if in prayer, eyes gleaming with devotion to this new craving.

he stares at you for a long moment, then simply nods, a lock of silver hair falling across his forehead. “pickles from new york, pudding from paris. got it.” he rises from the bed, stretching his long arms above his head, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of toned stomach.

“and satoru?” you call as he prepares to teleport, fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “don’t mix them before you get back. the pickle juice makes the pudding separate.”

pop.

you watch him through heavy eyelids as he focuses on your feet, his expression soft but concentrated. his hair falls forward, obscuring his eyes slightly. you’ve memorized every curve of his face, every microexpression, but somehow seeing him like this—so gentle, so devoted—makes your hormones riot. one second you’re overcome with love so intense it hurts, and the next you’re irrationally annoyed that he’s breathing too loudly.

“what if the baby has your eyes?” you murmur drowsily, tracing circles on your belly with your fingertip.

he looks up, startled by the question, his hands pausing momentarily. “let’s hope not. might be a handful at parent-teacher conferences.” a strand of hair falls across his eyes as he tilts his head thoughtfully.

“but they’re beautiful.” your voice softens, eyes meeting his with unexpected tenderness.

his cheeks color slightly, a rare show of bashfulness from the normally confident sorcerer. “flattery will get you nowhere, except perhaps another foot rub tomorrow.” he ducks his head, focusing intently on your feet again, but not before you catch the pleased smile tugging at his lips.

“i’ll take it.” you sink back into the pillows with a contented sigh.

three nights later, you bolt upright at 3:42 a.m. and slap his arm. “toru. TORU.” your hair is a wild nest around your face, eyes wide with urgent purpose.

he sits up with a start, hair standing on end like he just got electrocuted, blindfold askew across his forehead. “what? labor? demons? is it sukuna again? i’ll kill him with a slipper.” his hands are already forming a seal, cursed energy crackling faintly around his fingers.

“no. i want that specific grilled cheese sandwich from that diner in brooklyn. the one with the checkered floors, not the one with the neon sign. and it has to be made by the old guy with the mustache—not the young one, he uses too much butter. make sure they use the white cheddar, not the yellow, and the sourdough bread needs to be toasted for EXACTLY three and a half minutes so it’s golden brown but not dark brown. and tell them to cut it diagonally, not straight across, and to let it rest for exactly forty-five seconds before wrapping it so the cheese sets but doesn’t harden. oh, and NO pickles on the side—actually, yes pickles, but the half-sour ones from the jar under the counter, not the ones they put out for everyone else.” you grip his arm tightly, eyes shining with fevered intensity in the darkness.

he stares at you, groggy and incredulous, one eye half-closed, his silver hair flattened on one side. you stare back, eyes wide and a little watery, lower lip caught between your teeth.

“please?” you whisper, your lips puckering in a pout. your hands rest protectively over your belly, thumbs brushing together in circles, nightshirt stretched tight across your rounded form.

it works. it always works.

pop.

he’s back in twelve minutes, the scent of butter and garlic clinging to his hoodie. he places the sandwich in your lap like it’s a newborn, the white paper wrapping still warm to the touch.

“i tipped the guy a hundred dollars. he gave me his grandma’s pickles too.” he drops a small jar beside you, condensation beading on the glass, his movements slow with lingering sleepiness.

you grab the sandwich reverently, as if it’s the last meal on earth, inhaling its aroma with closed eyes. “you’re a good man.” your voice is almost solemn with gratitude.

“remind me of that when i’m sleep-deprived and covered in spit-up.” he rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand, stifling a yawn.

“you already look like someone who owns ten diaper bags.” you take a bite, a string of cheese stretching from your mouth to the sandwich.

“they’re color-coordinated. don’t underestimate me.” he flicks his wrist as if displaying an invisible catalog, slumping back against the headboard.

you eat in thoughtful silence, savoring each bite like it’s ambrosia, then suddenly burst into tears. “it’s so good,” you wail, mouth still full, a crumb catching on your lower lip. “why is cheese so BEAUTIFUL?”

satoru blinks rapidly, caught off guard by the emotional whiplash, his hand freezing halfway to your shoulder. “do you... want me to get another one?” he asks cautiously, weighing each word.

“NO!” you snap, then immediately reach for his hand with a desperate look, nearly knocking over the pickle jar. “yes? maybe? i don’t know what i want anymore!” your grip on his fingers is almost painful.

he watches you with a mixture of adoration, exhaustion, and mild terror, chin propped in his palm. the baby kicks, a sudden flurry of movement that makes you pause mid-emotional breakdown.

“active tonight,” you mumble through a mouthful of cheese, placing a hand where the kick landed.

satoru’s hand finds your belly without hesitation, his palm warm through your thin nightshirt. his eyes widen slightly as another kick meets his touch, lips parting in quiet wonder. “strong like their mother.”

“flatterer.” you roll your eyes but can’t stop your lips from curving into a smile.

“no, really,” he insists, voice uncommonly soft, fingers splaying gently across your rounded belly. “not even six continents of distance could keep you from your cravings. that’s power.”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “power would be being able to get my own damn sandwiches without feeling like a beached whale.” you brush a crumb from your chest with exaggerated dignity.

he leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours. his lashes cast shadows on his cheeks in the dim light. “i’d cross every ocean for you. for both of you.” his breath is warm against your face, voice dropping to a whisper.

“even for pickle juice at four in the morning?” you tilt your head, eyes challenging despite their softness.

“especially then.” he presses a gentle kiss to your nose.

one week later, you demand gelato from venice. “and not the tourist kind. the real kind. specifically from that tiny shop on the corner of via garibaldi and that alley with the blue door—not the green door, the BLUE door. and only the pistachio flavor made by the old lady, not her son. he churns it too much and it gets icy. make sure they scrape it from the bottom left corner of the container because that’s where it’s creamiest. and it needs to be in the white paper cup, not the plastic one, because the plastic makes it taste different. oh, and if they offer you that wafer cookie thing on top, say no. unless it’s the rectangular one with the sugar crystals, not the round one.” you pace the bedroom as you speak, one hand supporting your lower back, the other gesturing emphatically.

“you want me to teleport to italy,” he repeats, eyebrows rising slowly, fingers pausing on the book he was reading. “at eleven at night.”

“don’t act like you haven’t done it for fun.” you narrow your eyes, hands moving to your hips.

“but that was pre-baby that was me being whimsical. this is you being a gremlin.” he marks his place in the book with a finger, head tilting to one side.

“this gremlin has swollen ankles and can end you with a look.” you point at your puffy feet for emphasis, toes wiggling ominously.

he sighs, closing his book with a soft snap. “you know what? fair.”

he disappears before you can finish your smug grin. twenty minutes later, you’re eating gelato while satoru rants about pigeons, his hands gesturing wildly, his normally perfect hair windswept and slightly damp from italian humidity.

“i tried to eat it there, for like, the whole experience,” he says, hands gesturing wildly, a smear of pistachio at the corner of his mouth. “but the pigeons. babe. the pigeons wanted blood.”

you lick the edge of your cup, then suddenly narrow your eyes. “wait. so you had time to sit down and try to eat there? while i was here SUFFERING?” you point your spoon at him accusingly, eyes widening dramatically.

his face falls, genuine distress flashing in his eyes. “it was—i thought—maybe thirty seconds?” he holds up his thumb and forefinger to indicate the tiny amount of time, shoulders hunching defensively.

“you went SIGHTSEEING?” your voice rises to glass-shattering pitch, spoon clattering to the floor. “i bet you took PICTURES for the MEMORIES!”

he swallows hard, looking like a man facing execution, adam’s apple bobbing visibly. “i just—you always say i should appreciate the moment and—” his fingers twist nervously in the hem of his shirt.

you burst into laughter so abruptly he physically startles, nearly falling off the edge of the bed. “your FACE! oh my god, you should see your face right now!” you continue giggling, one hand clutching your belly, then just as quickly, your expression turns somber. “this gelato needs chocolate sauce. why didn’t you think of chocolate sauce?” your lower lip juts out in dramatic disappointment.

his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. “i... can go back?” he offers tentatively, already half-rising from the bed.

“no, it’s fine,” you sigh dramatically, gazing forlornly at your gelato, stirring it with slow, mournful movements. “i’ll just suffer. alone. with my inferior dessert.”

he looks genuinely pained, caught between panic and confusion, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. “i’ll be right back—”

“NO!” you grab his wrist, suddenly desperate, nearly upending the gelato cup. “i was kidding! don’t leave me! what if the baby comes while you’re hunting for chocolate in venice?”

“it’s... week twenty-three,” he says carefully, like he’s disarming a bomb, eyes fixed on your grip on his wrist.

“anything could happen,” you whisper intensely, clutching your gelato protectively to your chest. “anything.” your eyes are wide and serious, a tiny dot of pistachio on the tip of your nose.

here's your text with straight quotation marks replaced by curly ones:

he hasn’t known peace since week sixteen.

some nights, when the cravings subside and the world grows quiet, you find him with his head resting against your belly, whispering stories about infinity and curses and all the places he’ll take them someday. sometimes you catch fragments—tales of mountains that touch the sky, oceans that glow in the dark, cities where time moves differently. his fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin as he speaks, his blindfold discarded, eyes soft in the dim light.

“did you just tell our unborn child about that time you beat sukuna’s ass at shinjuku?” you ask sleepily one night, fingers playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

he doesn’t deny it, lips curving into a smile against your skin. “they should know their father is very cool.” he turns his head slightly to meet your gaze, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“tell them about the time you cried watching that documentary about penguins.” you tug gently at his hair, fighting a smile.

“betrayal,” he whispers, but his lips curve into a smile against your skin, his thumb drawing circles near your navel. “fine. i have many dimensions. emotional depth is sexy.”

“mmmm,” you hum, fingers threading through his silver hair, enjoying the silky texture between your fingers. “i liked when you said the penguin couples who stay together forever reminded you of us.”

even in the dark, you can tell he’s blushing, the tip of his ear turning pink where it peeks through his hair. “i was sleep-deprived.” he mumbles against your belly, hiding his face.

“you’re always sleep-deprived. occupational hazard of loving me.” you trace the shell of his ear with your fingertip.

his laugh is soft against your belly, breath warm through the thin fabric of your nightshirt. “worth it.”

by week twenty-five, he keeps a backpack by the door labeled ‘snack quest gear.’ inside are a passport, an umbrella, three currencies, spicy dried mangoes, a backup blindfold, and wet wipes. he updates it weekly like it’s a mission kit. sometimes you catch him restocking it with the focus of a soldier prepping for battle, his brow furrowed in concentration as he checks off an invisible list.

he has a spreadsheet for cravings. with timestamps. and detailed reviews. you rated the brooklyn grilled cheese 9/10 but deducted a point because he forgot the pickle slice on the side. he never made that mistake again. you’ve caught him studying the spreadsheet late at night, highlighting patterns like he’s tracking a particularly elusive curse.

sometimes he tries to guess your cravings before you say them. he warps in with takoyaki one afternoon while you’re quietly reading. you laugh so hard you cry, snorting inelegantly as you try to catch your breath.

“i just wanted ice,” you manage between hiccups, wiping tears from your cheeks.

he disappears and returns in thirty seconds with a cup of shaved ice in the shape of a swan, condensation beading on the outside of the glass. “do i win?” his eyes gleam with childlike hopefulness.

you nod, eyes glassy with laughter. “you win. you always win.” you accept the ice with both hands, your fingers brushing against his.

one morning you wake to find him gone, a note on his pillow: “emergency meeting. back soon. don’t have the baby without me.”

“HOW DARE HE,” you shriek to the empty room, suddenly and irrationally furious. you crumple the note into a ball and throw it across the room with surprising force. “he LEFT me. ABANDONED. in my CONDITION.”

the note bounces off the wall, leaving a tiny mark that you’ll definitely blame him for later. your hands shake with indignation as you grab your phone from the nightstand, nearly knocking over the glass of water satoru had carefully placed there last night.

you’re halfway through typing an all-caps text message about his betrayal when your mood flips entirely, and you’re suddenly overcome with guilt for being angry. tears spring to your eyes as you smooth out the crumpled note with trembling fingers.

“what if he never comes back?” you whisper dramatically to your belly, running your palm over the taut skin beneath your oversized t-shirt. “what if the love is gone? what if—”

your stomach growls, loudly, interrupting your spiral of despair.

“really?” you mutter to your belly. “now?”

you wait, hoping the feeling will pass, drumming your fingers impatiently against your swollen abdomen. it doesn’t. what you want—no, what you need—are those specific egg tarts from that tiny bakery in hong kong. the ones with the perfectly caramelized tops and the custard that’s somehow both firm and silky.

you reach for your phone, then pause, lower lip caught between your teeth. there’s something strangely satisfying about waiting, about knowing he’ll come back and immediately sense what you need.

two hours later, he bursts through the door looking harried, blindfold slightly askew, wisps of silver hair sticking out at odd angles. “sorry, sorry—gojo clan politics, you don’t want to know—” his long fingers adjust the blindfold, revealing a hint of that impossible blue beneath.

“i want egg tarts,” you interrupt, not bothering with hello. you shift your weight on the bed, one hand supporting your lower back. “the ones from mrs. chan’s bakery in hong kong, down the alley with the red lanterns. but ONLY if she made them after 10am today, because the morning batch uses eggs from the vendor who feeds his chickens fish meal and it changes the flavor. and make sure they’re from the third tray, not the first two—those are always undercooked in the center. they should be golden brown with EXACTLY seven visible burn spots on the crust, not six, not eight. and they need to still be warm, but not hot—exactly 27 minutes out of the oven. oh, and if she offers you the ones with the swirly tops, say no. i only want the ones with the flat tops, because the swirly ones have more air bubbles.”

satoru’s lips part slightly, his head tilting to one side in that way that makes your heart flutter despite your current state of hormonal chaos.

“how did you know?” you blink in surprise.

he taps his temple with a long, elegant finger, a smug smile playing at his lips. “twenty-seven weeks in. i’ve developed a sixth sense. i call it ‘pregnant spouse intuition.’”

your eyes immediately well with tears, your hands clasping together against your chest. “that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion.

he smiles, shoulders visibly relaxing, relief washing over his perfect face. “well, i—”

“or are you MOCKING me?” you snap, tears evaporating, eyes narrowing dangerously. you sit up straighter, nostrils flaring. “making fun of my PERFECTLY NORMAL cravings? laughing at my SUFFERING?”

his smile drops instantly, replaced by genuine alarm, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. “no! never! i love your cravings! the more specific and geographically impossible, the better!”

your expression softens again, just as quickly, shoulders slumping as you rest one hand on your belly. “really? you’re not just saying that?”

he approaches cautiously, like someone trying not to startle a beautiful but unpredictable wild animal. his movements are fluid but hesitant, the fabric of his dark jeans whispering against his long legs. “i live to serve your every culinary whim,” he says with complete sincerity, a bead of sweat forming at his temple, catching the light as it slides down. “it’s my greatest joy in life.”

you beam at him, dimples appearing in both cheeks. “good. now go get my egg tarts before i burn this entire place down.”

pop.

forty minutes later, you’re sitting cross-legged on the bed, box of egg tarts balanced on your belly, making indecent noises with each bite. satoru watches you with fond amusement, chin propped in his palm, the late afternoon light filtering through the blinds casting stripes across his impossibly perfect face.

“good?” he asks, already knowing the answer, one eyebrow arched above his blindfold.

you nod emphatically, flakes of pastry clinging to your lips. “she gave you extra?” you ask between bites, licking your fingers with unabashed pleasure.

“she thinks i’m part of a smuggling ring,” he admits, a dimple appearing in his right cheek as he smiles. “says nobody comes that far for egg tarts unless they’re selling them black market.”

“technically, i am a black market,” you gesture to your round belly with a sticky finger. “highest bidder gets premium goods.”

he climbs into bed next to you, the mattress dipping under his weight, pulling the blanket over both your bodies, his long, graceful hand curving instinctively around your belly. his thumb moves in lazy arcs against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“when the baby’s born,” he murmurs into your hair, his breath warm against your scalp, “they’ll never believe the lengths i went for snacks.”

“they’ll know,” you whisper, eyelids drooping, nestling back against his solid chest. “they’ll have inherited the craving powers.”

“my legacy lives on.” his voice is a low rumble you can feel through your spine.

just before sleep claims you, you hear another quiet pop beside the bed.

he’s gone again.

he forgot the soy sauce for your rice crackers.

he returns in under a minute, face pale with urgency, a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, clutching the soy sauce bottle like it might save his life.

“i’m sorry,” he gasps, chest rising and falling rapidly beneath his fitted black shirt, “i can’t believe i—”

“took so long?” you finish, voice dripping with sugar-sweet venom. you sit up straight, hair mussed from almost-sleep, eyes suddenly sharp and accusing. “were you chatting with someone prettier? someone NOT carrying thirty extra pounds of water weight?”

his eyes widen with genuine panic behind the blindfold, his knuckles whitening around the bottle. “it was forty-seven seconds! i counted!”

your bottom lip trembles dangerously, your fingers plucking nervously at the bedsheet. “you’ve never forgotten before. never.”

“i know,” he whispers, voice cracking slightly as he kneels beside the bed, offering the soy sauce like a penitent knight. a lock of silver hair falls across his forehead as he bows his head. “i’ve failed you. our sacred pact is broken.”

you snatch the bottle, still glaring, nostrils flared,

then suddenly beam at him with pure adoration, your entire face transforming in an instant. “thank you, baby. you’re the best husband ever.”

he blinks rapidly, emotional whiplash evident in his stunned expression. a muscle twitches in his jaw. he opens his mouth to speak, then seems to think better of it, slowly rising to his feet with the careful movements of someone who has just narrowly avoided catastrophe.

smart man.

[dont-diy-zine]

"Don't Repeat This at Home" Zine is a fan project born out of love for Chinese novels and dramas. We brought more than 100 artists and writers together to create our magnum opus and now YOU ARE WELCOME TO JOIN US! The fandom: ➜ "The Scum Villain's [Self-Saving] System" Mo Xiang Tong Xiu ➜ "Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation" Mo Xiang Tong Xiu ➜ "Heaven Official's Blessing" Mo Xiang Tong Xiu ➜ "Thousand Autumns" Meng Xi Shi ➜ "The Husky and His White Cat Shizun" / "Erha" Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (Meatbun) ➜ "Faraway Wanderers" Priest ("Word of Honour" is canon too)

The key theme: 百感交�� (bǎi gǎn jiāo jí) — all sorts of feelings well up in one's heart — fluff, drama, humour and beyond ❗ 18+. No minors, please Some arts and texts may make you cry, beware, triggers may be found (or not) The book: ➜ ~300 pages ➜ 106 double-page spreads with arts including: • 12 comic strips • 13 illustrated poems ➜ 8 fanfiction stories with • cover arts • internal b/w illustrations

[All 6 fandoms in one book] ❗ All texts are in Russian

➜ Physical copy (hard-back) — 3 200 roubles (it's around 37.4$ or 34.7€) ➜ Digital copy (.pdf) — 700 roubles (it's around 8.2$ or 7.6€)

The merch: ➜ 6 fandoms ➜ 3 sets for EACH fandom: • Aperitif — very small (1 postcard, 1 sticker pack, 1 key fob) — 1 500 roubles (it's around 17.5$ or 16.3€) • Half Portion — small (Aperitif + 1 acrylic stand with the main pairing, 1 plastic bookmark, 2 more postcards, 1 mini card) — 2 600 roubles (it's around 30.4$ or 28.2€) • Portion — large (Half Portion + 1 acrylic stand with secondary characters, 2 acrylic earrings, 1 more sticker pack, 1 bank card sticker, 1 round plastic badge, 1 more postcard) — 4 000 roubles (it's around 46.8$ or 43.4€)

[1 set = 1 fandom] ❗ You can get the merch only as the sets and only WITH the book (physical OR digital copy)

• Full 6 fandoms set — 22 000 roubles (it's around 257,3$ or 238,4€)

The plan: ➜ Right now till September 7, 2024 we collect funds ➜ September — production and manufacturing ➜ October — shipping starts ❗ We send digital copies AFTER shipping the physical ones We ship from Saint-Petersburg, Russia International shipping is available, but you can pre-check it via postcrossing.com/postal-monitor/RU

How to get the book or merch: ➜ go to Google Forms and follow the instructions: forms.gle/CdTis5wdYPmg2U6p8 ❗ We collect funds via Boosty; all prices are in Russian Roubles and include the comission of the platform You can use the currency of your country for the purchase, Boosty automatically converts it Shipping is charged separately

The project is not for profit [just for lulz] All money we make will go to production and manufacturing If we hit a breakeven, the authors are going to receive a free book. Any surplus funds will then be used to make extra merch FOR YOU

English is a foreign language for us, so sorry for inaccurate wording, we tried. We tried hard. We keep trying

More info: vk.com/dont_diy (in Russian)

[sotogalmo]

12am

Heyyyyyyyyyy it's meee .back with chimera tangggg. More chimera tang sloppp for the ones that like my drawings and ideas .get your slop right here

(1: ouhh boy, he got the zoomies !!!!!chimera tang getting SMACKED with the cat instincts to like.pounce and play and hunt, but no sire!!!you can't doo thattt!!!you're the size of like. One of the tallest buildings....!!!!! you're gonna CRUSH Pigsy's Noodles to ASHES!!!! / 2: (chimera river) bro nesting and then getting out the instinct-haze and being so confused about it. Nest has wood under it for structure, lots of fluff tho to keep him safe- he even goes a bit farther away from his family but that's tiger instincts / 3: is just part of a page where I was writing stuff trying to make things make sense in my head + more of a slight reveal of how I would draw tang with more details and whatnot. to me he has upturn eyes that are slightly vaguely bug like .. / 5: I TOLDSS YALL I WOULD DO IT !!!!chimera tang half of changpao rip 🫡/ 6: some clothes because why not / 7: he's gonna explain shit to you autism way)

More thoughts undercut because .it be like that

Anyways I've been thinking of how chimera tang would happen in like. S5. Or just with MK in general actually. Because I can see their similarities and just. Oughhh they interest me a lot

Tang: some human -> to a fuckass Chimera who is Somehow Connected To The Great Tang Monk + MK: just a delivery boy -> Harbinger Of Chaos / both are dangerous (and they both showed it tbh), etc etc

There's gotta be smth they can work with together. But with Chimera Tang being earlier, .oughhrgrhrhhrhrgrggrgggr I dunno. But I think they should bond. At least hang out more. Since they now have at least much more in common

And withh . chimera river au: I still don't know when the kiddos would be born around (S4 special or towards the end of s5?). I also don't know if it'll take the common many years (what's the general years ...?) of demons (generally tang is considered to be one with all of the chimera stuffs) or be at least slightly closer to the 9 months (plus now with a divine spirit- so who knows honestly). — though, since they were like. Conceived when tang drank the remaining river, and how fast it went when both Bajie and Sanzang drank it (I think), I think like. The river makes the pregnancy go faster in some way. So who really knows

While I was thinking of that, I also decided to add more to the kids too—

First born Bao (taken from the mother child river au, but with added swag cuz of chimera tang) / second born Jian (acts like Knuckles The Echidna <- which I may or may not have taken to a bit of an extreme and then kinda made him a bit ..red. like the duroc/red wattle hogs but hey what the hell!sure! kinda reasoned with it with just- the red stone, and my idea of the main group being the core of the new pillars while everyone else on Earth are the outer parts of it. Tang red stone core real to me <- kinda made a whole post about the color stones and with a lot more beings, being the new pillars of Heaven and Not Just the main cast being the only ones. It interests me) / third born Yun (Silver The Hedgehog, fluffiest one of the bunch. Honestly he seems like he'll really like to hang out with Sandy) / youngest Xiaoxing (Tails The Fox (taking an interest in making machines and all) and Oliver Grayson ....be cause ....yeahhh getting into Invincible peopleee)

Though the more I think of when they'll be born I think it'll fit more around the end of s5 because that's a lot more stress and I think it takes a lot more stress to induce premature labor with demons/divines/etc. (they live longer, etc etc).

Smth smth it's the probably actual end of the world (sky cracking and finding the stones) and then your honorary son fucking JUMPS into the pillar and so now you gotta wonder if this is really the actual end but then suddenly YOU GIVE BIRTH.(I try to be funny)

Tho I still don't know .about the time and gap between the seasons and such. falls down, so who really knows at all

Anyways. Before S4/5 and when tang was still under LBD's control, ..I just kinda think. That when he would wake up after being transformed- Mayor would be around to just do check ups and all of that. (1: macaque does NOT want to deal with this shit , 2: explore the mayor's character because sure why the hell not , 3: it's interesting. 4: they're funny to meee, the funny beast4beast)

-also, back to it with tagging the ones who first made chimera tang au because I still gotta give credit to them for making me do the zoomies: @quitealotofsodapop & @oceanqueenmusical

[foxglovefaun]

I'm Fox! :D I'm an illustrator and comic artist they/them - queer - LVL30+ - disabled - auDHD

:0 here is a pinned post

(♡˙︶˙♡) I’m the artist and author of an indie webcomic, The Bridge Burner (18+) a cyberpunk queer story about grief, addiction, disability, social technology, and rebirth. The plot spends a lot of time with a guy kind of just learning emotional regulation while he’s followed by the consequences of his actions. but! there’s also stuff about the divine self, cosmic sonder, and uhhhh autism. :)

anyway it looks like this!

Some of the older stuff looks old because it is old, so here is some new panels and pages. :) for you to look at. Because it is 2025 now

ok so this is my main blog where I shitpost, post and rb art, and occasionally have opinions. But there are other links:

NEW : My Portfolio Website : Comes with a tiny resource library My Art-Only Tumblr - archive style nowadays

My BSKY account My Webcomic [18+ / Sensitive Content] Bio Link

I’m working toward one day be able to cover our rent with my small art business. If you’d like to help me achieve this increasingly lofty goal, you can support me over on ❤️❤️✨My SubscribeStar Account ✨(18+)❤️❤️ - Tags i use: my art [my art] real pidge hours [pigeon content] fox talks [my own rambling. feel free to filter this, i would if i could.] My OCs (from my webcomic, links currently go to Toyhouse) Ross - 42 - He/Him Aging Queerpunk [sad wet protagonist] Freelancer, bouncer, dysregulated, odd jobs, baggage, huscle, artist, big dumb heart, theoretical physics, fistfighting, weed, bubble tea, bao, bastard. [Trusting - Playful - Addict - Crybaby]

Shiro - 26 - He/Him Goblin-Coded Workaholic [high-strung bestie, writing supervised by my spouse] Courier, porter, every delivery app, every taxi app, caffeine, plug, moon dreamer, underslept, street racing, ya ba, adrenaline, faster, right on time. [Professional - Hardworking - Energetic - Twitchy]

Léo - 39 - He/Him CorporateGoth Diplomat [artsnob challenger] ESG, special projects, art critic, multimillionaire, fossil collector, wagyu noseprints, pickled ginger, paludaria enthusiast, snob, private, has beef with God. [Loner - Playful - Bitter - Sentimental]

[eilwen]

Visiting the Dragon's Nest District

Most cities and towns in No Man's Land have been similar in appearance, with a ship or a portion of a ship watching over its people. However, in Ryutsu, where many things happen, the ship is not the only structure that dominates the landscape.

I wanted to do a dive into the city, what inspired it (and speculate on some of the visuals) and what we can potentially understand about No Man's Land.

Some spoilers for Vol. 4 and 5. Also, this is long.

Even without the baos and wonton-fonts on signage, Ryutsu visually does not match with other cities in No Man's Land. It’s not just the citadel which can be seen from afar, but it’s also the crammed housing and confusing architecture. The tone of Vol. 4 shifts and leans towards neo-noir. As this arc's villains move into the city, Hoppered says: "This place is truly the bottom of the dark. [...] We'll walk into a place where the light does not enter." These lines may not be literal but it certainly brings ideas of seedy places. They move through pitch black and eventually…

The big showdown happens at the city's main feature: the Dragon’s Nest District - an area that brings up memories of the old Kowloon Walled City in Hong Kong. No Man's Land is a sparsely populated planet, yet for whatever reason, people have sardined themselves into this city and into this district.

Kowloon Walled City had been called ‘City of Darkness’ and it was possible to move through the city without ever seeing daylight. It carries a bit of romantised nostalgia because of its weird part in Hong Kong colonial history, its uncontrolled and chaotic construction, and its lawlessness (though apparently the ungoverned city was tight-knit and communal). The city became a source of inspiration for a lot of media, but not many films were shot in the city itself. Those that I had seen tended to use the city as a 'cool film location' so apart from the examples below, there aren't many I know to recommend (happy to take suggestions for films I may have missed).

Clip from Bloodsport (Arnold, 1988)

"No joke, man. It's a random piece of No Man's Land in the middle of a tourist paradise. It goes way back to the old lease agreement between Great Britain and China. Once you step out of the sunlight into the narrow corridors, it's time to protect your nuts, guys."

Clip from Crime Story (Wong, 1993). This is the climax of the film, which featured actual explosions from Kowloon's demolition, according to its wiki page.

Off the top of my head, good fiction film substitutes (unrelated and unlike Trigun/Trimax) which more illustrate what life might have been like in these places, may be films like Wong Kar Wai's Fallen Angels (1995) and Chungking Express (1994) - though these films take place at the Chungking Mansions, Kowloon Walled City's more modern cousin. I thought of Wong's films because he treated the mansions as a character more than as a location. His films showed examples of immense density, globalisation, and a bit of that noir crime stuff within small and unusually intimate spaces. They also reflected Hong Kong's complicated anxiety as the city was approaching its handover from British to Chinese rule.

Panel from Vol. 4 Ch. 7; Screencap from Chungking Express (Wong, 1994).

To talk more about Hong Kong cinema itself would be much longer than a tumblr post but if Nightow is connected with Rodriguez's films via Desperado (1995), Rodriguez and his collaborative friend Tarantino are connected with Hong Kong films from those like John Woo and Ringo Lam. One example: Mexican standoffs are tropes used in various films, but we see them frequently enough in Tarantino's films and in Hong Kong action cinema that it becomes noteworthy.

Panel from Vol. 5 Ch. 3

Panel from Vol. 5 Ch. 5

Kowloon Walled City which was demolished in 1993, was visually ‘resurrected’ as Ryutsu's Dragon's Nest. Kowloon Walled City was not a city that just looked interesting. It was an agreement between China and Great Britain that was then kind of weirdly botched, thus leaving it pretty much ungoverned. Trimax Vol. 4 was released in 2000, three years after Hong Kong's handover from Britain to China. We don’t get Ryutsu’s history and with the multiple panels of silhouetted buildings against the night sky and hanging laundry in balconies, Ryutsu’s citadel falls into the 'cool manga location' category. Also, I should be clear: these chapters in Trimax are not an analysis or an allegory of Hong Kong's colonial history.

Panel from Vol. 4 Ch. 4; Photo of Kowloon Walled City's alleyway from wiki article.

At the same time, many eyes, including those outside of Great Britain and China, were on the news when the handover occurred. The point is not if Nightow was considering that historic moment or if he happened to be watching Hong Kong films when he was working on these chapters. Instead, I wonder if readers, when they picked up these volumes from the bookshelves, had thought about Hong Kong, Hong Kong’s movies, and Hong Kong’s past and uncertain future, as they were skimming through the pages. But you know… this is 2023 me thinking about 23 years ago. All of this is daydreaming.

I bring up Hong Kong's history and cinema because I wanted to see what I can envision and interpret about Ryutsu and thus about No Man's Land. If Hong Kong via cinema brings imaginations of transnationalism then Ryutsu via Vol. 4 and 5 could do the same for No Man's Land.

There is no literal ocean to divide cities and there are no named countries. There is a broad ‘Federal Government’, so I assume that means the government concerns itself with all settlements in the entire planet. If Ryutsu itself is No Man’s Land’s ‘Hong Kong’ (which opens another discussion of the use and/or misuse of Hong Kong in media - some other time), then despite No Man’s Land being an incredible dystopia, the elimination of borders is, very plainly, very interesting. I am leaning to this being a good thing, considering that one major problem in No Man’s Land tends to be ‘Humans vs. X’ (plants, worms, the planet’s environment etc.). Also, No Man’s Land is already very sparse. No spoilers for later volumes but I am curious about the planet’s future if the population demographic changes.

Panel from Vol. 4 Ch. 4. Western and Eastern hats in the same panel.

There are also thoughts about its class struggles. Vash says in Vol. 4 Ch. 4: "There are too many people here. I don't like it. The lower and upper class all cramped together." ... which really made me think about the conditions the upper class were living in. Kowloon Walled City was known to be unhygienic, dark and cramped and the wealthy did not live there, so how rough was it to live in Ryutsu when a rich person might still need to live in the citadel? I didn't interpret Vash's statement to mean 'citadel plus those outside of it' when the high stakes in these volumes were because of the high density and maze-like streets.

Panels from Vol. 4 Ch. 6; Ch. 7; Ch. 7.

The above panels remind me of establishing shots in gritty crime thrillers than the sci-fi western I had been reading up to this point.

Featured is the Juukei Building - a building that looks pulled from the 20th century. It is tall, drawn sometimes in narrow panels to emphasize its height and to show how small the characters are in the claustrophobic space as they navigate towards it. As characters move through the structure once inside, it becomes more difficult to tell where in the building they are or if they are somewhere adjacent. Combining historical and futuristic designs in Trigun/Trimax isn't new, but it's not often you see 20th century structures. Maybe wealthier residents lived in buildings like this, though the interiors of Juukei look like abandoned offices.

Panel from Vol. 5 Ch. 3.

Or maybe this was meant to be a mixed-use building? But it seems the entire building is abandoned anyway.... So I'm not sure where the upper class is supposed to live or how I should imagine the upper class to be.

Panel from Vol 5. Ch 6.

... After the end of the battle, once morning comes, we no longer see the citadel. The landscapes return to those reminiscent of American Southwestern deserts. Like we dipped into darkness then we returned to the light.

Anyone who knows about Kowloon Walled City would instantly recognise it in Trimax. The imitative Ryutsu Citadel could be read as a cool manga location where a massive shootout plus some serious revelations occur, but I personally am always interested in what else a location can do. It matters if you set a film in New York City versus a nameless location and how you visually convey that city because it can tell us about its people and helps us understand its characters. So to me, I thought it would be fun to look at certain locations in Trimax (with all of Nightow's free-form inconsistencies and confusions) and imagine or interpret what they can tell us about No Man's Land and by extension, the people in No Man's Land.

Other fun facts include: "[...] Japan, in particular, developed a keen interest towards Kowloon. Its demolition in 1993 was broadcast on national television."

[yamayuandadu]

thank you for the reply and the information! I was curious how the other fox would fit in with PCB Extra's metatextual mention of Three Lands, but I hadn't even considered it might be three worlds and not three countries. this is neat

(Original post for context)

I forgot I left the response to this in my drafts, sorry. Luckily, this means I could update it with recently acquired knowledge when I found it again. Truth to be told, my point is less that the other fox is a better match, and more that Ran being Tamamo no Mae is one of these things which make sense at first glance, but the deeper you look into it, the less coherent it becomes.

This got much longer than I planned, so for organizational purposes let's refer to this post as Revenge of the "graveyard god", or why I don't think Ran is Tamamo no Mae. More under the cut.

The early Tamamo no Mae

The main point of connection between Tamamo no Mae and Ran are the nine tails, but that’s not even really a consistent part of the former's background. The oldest version of the story - which is really fun, the seduction section is pages upon pages of Tamamo and emperor Toba discussing esoteric Buddhism -  states that she was “an 800-year-old two-tailed fox from the Nasuno Plain in Shimotsuke Province”. Early depictions of her true form follow this pretty closely:

Nezu Museum of Art, via Monsters, Animals, and Other Worlds. A Collection of Short Medieval Japanese Tales

Kyoto University Rare Materials Digital Library

Suntory Museum of Art

As far as I am aware, the two tails are actually unique to her. Other foxes of note have either one tail or nine. While it does seem the belief in the number of tails growing with age is genuine rather than a modern misconception, it’s hardly central to fox folklore (I’ve seen the portmoneu “foxlore” at least once btw, it’s very funny). And, as I will outline later, it doesn’t even seem to be behind the idea of nine-tailed foxes in the first place. Anyway, the oldest version does provide Tamamo with more backstory, but it’s closer to presenting Shuten Dōji as a manifestation of Mara than to a straightforward “Tamamo is x under a pseudonym” popular today. As we learn, the two-tailed fox is in fact a reincarnation of a “graveyard god” (塚の神, Tsuka no Kami) from India, described in the apocryphal Humane Kings Sutra (it gets namedropped directly), likely originally composed in China.

How come? It all started when Kalmashapada, a prince of Devala in India, wanted to offer 1000 skulls of virtuous rulers to this deity because a suspicious “heretical” preacher convinced him it’s a good idea. After defeating and imprisoning 999 such kings, he encountered Shrutasoma, one of the previous incarnations of the historical Buddha, who managed to show him the error of his ways. All of the kings were released, and Kalmashapada was redeemed. The “graveyard god” was less than thrilled, and swore to keep reincarnating as a fox in kingdoms where Buddhism flourished to destroy it. We are told that happened many times, but only one past identity, that of Bao Si (Hōji), comes up. Obviously, eighth century BCE China was not exactly an area famous for Buddhist devotion, but that’s irrelevant here. We are told the endgame is not just to overthrow a righteous ruler, but also to become his replacement. Alas, Tamamo no Mae obviously fails at both of these goals. Still, points for trying.

The story does not provide the deity with a specific identity. However, Nobumi Iyanaga notes that in the referenced sutra he’s Mahakala (the original Makakaraten version, not the joyful Daikokuten). In East Asian Buddhism he is described as dwelling in the graveyards due to acting as both the chief of dakinis and their subduer. At the same time, Iyanaga argues in the context of the Tamamo no Mae story it can be argued he is either implicitly replaced by the dakini par excellence, Dakiniten (closely associated with foxes), or that the deity has no identity other than the fox one.

Later Tamamo developments

Two elements which are mainstays of modern retellings are missing from the oldest version, as you might have noticed. It doesn’t feature the Sesshōseki, which was only added later, seemingly as a way to promote Zen Buddhism, since this extension of the story casts a member of this school as the new protagonist. In the early variants Tamamo’s corpse was brought to the imperial treasury, the same one which shows up in a similar context in the tale of Shuten Dōji, and there is no indication she came back as a vengeful ghost, let alone that she repented and accepted Buddhism, as she does in some of the Sesshōseki variants.

The other difference is, as I already pointed out, the tails. The oldest depiction of a nine-tailed Tamamo no Mae I am aware of is Sekien’s. Based on a few papers I read it would appear textual variants of the story giving her nine tails might have been in circulation earlier, but that’s not reflected in any of the illustrated scrolls shown above. 

Sekien's nine-tailed Tamamo (wikimedia commons)

Sekien claims that Tamamo no Mae is one and the same as Daji (I’ll get back to her later), and specifies the latter was a nine-tailed fox. He cites Zhang Dingsi’s Langye Dai Zui Bian (浪挪代醉編, “Langye’s Substitute for Drunkenness: A Compilation”) as his source for this tidbit, but does not explain where does the conflation of the two foxes come from. In contrast with the elaborate reincarnation scheme from the older version, he states Daji simply flew across the sea to reach Japan, without reincarnating.

What is now essentially treated as the “definitive” version of the Tamamo no Mae story, and what cemented her image as a nine-tailed fox, only dates back to 1805. That’s when Ehon Sangoku Yōfuden (絵本三国妖婦伝; “Tales of Enchantresses in the Three Kingdoms”) finished publication. The author, Ranzan Takai (高井蘭山), was an enthusiast of neo-confucian thought, and he wanted to write a story highlighting the time honored confucian belief that dynasties are brought down by suspicious concubines. The real goal was somewhat broader, though -the story of Tamamo no Mae was essentially repurposed as a critique of the concept of women playing an important role in public life.

It needs to be noted here that it is not impossible that the original was already part of a political polemic. Arguments have been made that Tamamo is a fictional representation of Bifukomon-in, for instance. They are certainly linked to the same emperor, Toba.

Bifukomon-in (wikimedia commons)

However, while I would not rule this out altogether, it’s hard to deny the typical medieval penchant for reinterpreting Buddhist material feels more central to the story. It is ultimately a very elaborate twist on the Humane Kings Sutra first and foremost. It belongs to the same world as other fabulous tales about figures from distant Buddhist lands arriving in Japan, alongside the likes of the legend of emperor Suwa of Hadai or the medieval Amaterasu narrative involving Mara (stay tuned for my post about that one).

Ideological motivations aside, in Ranzan’s version an anonymous nine-tailed fox appears as Daji in China, Kayō in India (seemingly a leftover of the original “graveyard god” story; here the prince is convinced to carry out his evil plans by his concubine instead though), and finally Tamamo no Mae in Japan. He also gives a unique account of Tamamo’s arrival in Japan, as far as I am aware: in his novel, she was brought there by Kibi no Makibi, a famous historical envoy to China. This was not his first time as a literary character, a much earlier picture scroll about his adventures is pretty funny (I have Touhou ocs based on it), but I’ll save this discussion for another time.

Not quite Tamamo: the influence of Daji

Daji, as depicted by Hokusai (wikimedia commons)

Daji requires some further discussion. She was initially regarded simply as a non-supernatural wicked concubine, but came to be treated as a fox posing as a human by the Song period. According to Xiaofei Kang the oldest evidence for that comes from 1101, from a Japanese text presumably reflecting an already extant Chinese belief. By the Yuan period it became a commonly accepted view, with Quanxiang Pinghua (全相平話) specifically stating Daji had nine tails. Her fox-like image was finally cemented fully by popular novels in the Ming and Qing periods.

Since there was a preexisting tradition in which Daji was a human woman, a remedy was developed: the “real” Daji was possessed by a fox, who took her name and identity. Curiously, the fox component of her story is otherwise not very important, and some modern authors basically characterize it as “tacked on”: she is the quintessential evil concubine bringing kingdoms to ruin out of a sense of cruelty who just happens to be a fox, and her story doesn’t really depend on preexisting fox-related motifs. 

There are multiple accounts of Daji’s deeds, but the most famous one, and at the same time the most likely influence on Razan’s portrayal of her (and thus Tamamo), is Investiture of the Gods. However, he skips the origin attributed to her here: in the Chinese original, Daji is an agent of the goddess Nuwa, though she eventually overdoes it and is rebuked by her former boss for excessive cruelty. This doesn’t really fit well with Tamamo’s backstory, obviously; making her and Daji interchangeable was detrimental to both characters, I feel. A Chinese story dealing with Daji reincarnating does exist, but it’s not exactly similar. In the Ming novel Zhaoyang Qushi (昭陽趣事) she reincarnated as Zhao Hede, a concubine of emperor Cheng of Han. What happens next has been described as “pornographic entertainment enlivened by supernatural and historical costumes”. For more details, check out Rania Huntington’s book from the bibliography below.

Curiously, it is possible Daji was simultaneously an object of active cult, since there is a Song imperial edict outlawing the shrines dedicated to her, Wutong (a southern Chinese spirit who was believed to bring wealth and bewitch people, compared with foxes in the north) and “General Shi” (no clue who that might be, I’d hazard a guess one of the popular pacified vengeful spirit cults but don’t quote me on that). However, another contemporary source instead mentions the outlawing of temples of “fox kings”, so it might also mean that the name of Daji was applied by officials to an unrelated popular fox cult (“fox king” is a reasonably common appellation for supernatural foxes). Both regular and nine-tailed foxes are attested in such a context across history.

Early nine-tailed foxes

An early Chinese depiction of a nine-tailed fox (wikimedia commons)

The early portrayals of nine-tailed foxes are something I started looking into recently because of Ran’s freshly revealed connection to Yuuma: I figured it makes sense that she’d be in origin someone who belongs to the same world as the taotie.

Looking at the earliest Chinese sources, multiple nine-tailed foxes appear in legends about virtuous rulers like Tang, Wen or Yu the Great, essentially as generic good omens, without much fanfare. According to confucian commentaries from the Later Han period, the nine tails were understood as a sign a given emperor will have many descendants. The exception from this generally positive tendency is the Classic of Mountains and Seas, where the nine-tailed fox is described as “man-eating” (something very uncommon in Chinese fox literature). However, it also doesn’t exactly get more spotlight than the other creatures. It’s also treated as a separate animal from regular foxes, not as a particularly old fox. You could say it is to the fox what a bai ze is to an ox, I think. Visual arts add further specimens: the source of this discussion, the nine-tailed fox attendant of Xi Wangmu, later seemingly “decanonized”, and another belonging to the entourage of Zhong Kui. Both of these are hardly eminent and seem to fit the mold of auspicious omens. In Zhong Kui’s case the fox is in one case listed alongside the bai ze which only strengthens this impression. However, it also makes sense that its inclusion would reflect Zhong Kui’s role as a demon queller: he is often portrayed with conquered demons as servants, after all.

Conclusions

To sum up: ultimately it just doesn’t seem nine-tailed foxes are quite as big of a deal as popculture makes them seem, and nine tails are neither exclusive nor innate to Tamamo no Mae. Since that’s the only real point of connection between her and Ran save for a throwaway PCB line which leads to no further references, I maintain there’s no strong case for identifying them with each other, especially since there is no shortage of other candidates. 

There’s also the fact that, Daji aside, most other nine-tailed foxes are largely blank slates you can do anything with, while Tamamo has many fairly unique characteristics which would be wasted by randomly slapping her name on Ran, in my opinion. To be fair, ZUN does occasionally make similar mistakes - Yoshika is the main example (remember, the actual legend about Yoshika’s immortality claims he decided to pursue eternal life after having a thrilling affair and has him call himself “strongest madman under heaven”).

I would personally argue ZUN himself probably did not feel strongly about who Ran is supposed to actually be when he originally came up with her, though. None of her spellcards reference Tamamo no Mae. Or any other fox identified with her, for that matter. They do have a more or less consistent theme, but that theme is, broadly speaking, “magic arts”, from onmyodo (Shikigami "Banquet of the Twelve General Gods"), through shugendo (Illusion God "Descent of Izuna-Gongen", Shikigami "The Protection of Zenki and Goki", Superhuman "Soaring En no Ozunu") and esoteric Buddhism (Shikigami "Channeling Dakiniten", Esoteric Sign "Odaishi-sama's Secret Key"), to contemporary stage magic (Shiki Brilliance "Princess Tenko -Illusion-"). In other words, I do not think canon actually strongly supports any specific option. 

I will admit I’m biased but personally I think picking a different fox makes it much easier to accommodate Yuuma and their shared animal realm past, the most thrilling Ran development in ages. As for Tamamo, I do think she would be fun to see in Touhou, but preferably as her own character - with two tails, if possible.

Bibliography

Bernard Faure, The Power of Denial. Buddhism, Purity, and Gender

Rania Huntington, Alien Kind. Foxes and Late Imperial Chinese Narrative

Nobumi Iyanaga, Under the Shadow of the Great Śiva: Tantric Buddhism and its Influence on Japanese Mediaeval Culture

Idem, Dākinī in: Brill's Encyclopedia of Buddhism (vol. 2)

Xiaofei Kang, The Cult of the Fox: Power, Gender, and Popular Religion in Late Imperial and Modern China

Laura K. Nüffer, Lady Tamamo in: Keller Kimbrough and Haruo Shirane (eds.), Monsters, Animals, and Other Worlds. A Collection of Short Medieval Japanese Tales

Sumiko Sekiguchi, Gender in the Meiji Renovation: Confucian 'Lessons for Women' and the Making of Modern Japan

Chun-Yi Joyce Tsai, Imagining the Supernatural Grotesque: Paintings of Zhong Kui and Demons in the Late Southern Song (1127-1279) and Yuan (1271-1368) Dynasties

[stellarcanopy]

Behold! The thing I've been spending most of my time on for the past few months years!!

In the time since my last post, I've finished building the main game (stages 1~6) of Treasure Castle Labyrinth, one of my long-time favorite Touhou fangame concepts. It's fully playable! Start to finish! Right now! (On most Windows operating systems!)

TCL creator's official game page: https://irodorian.com/houten Bulletforge DL page: https://www.bulletforge.org/u/naudiz/p/dong-fang-bao-tian-jing-treasure-castle-labyrinth

The EX Stage and other extra content will be added over the following months. I'm really proud to have gotten this game out the door, and I hope a lot of people enjoy playing it! :D

[johnkatsmc5]

Estopa "Estopa" 1999 Spain Latin Pop Rock,Rumba  (50 Mejores Discos del Rock Español - Rolling Stone)

full spotify

In a previous chronicle we talked about Los Chichos, the true kings of rumba. Today's protagonists have clear links with them. The parallelism between the two groups is evident; on the one hand, the musical influence of some on others, on the other, the pride of belonging to the neighborhood or the town, and, finally, the ease with which they transfer everyday life to the lyrics of their songs. More than twenty years ago I was on my way to work listening to a morning program, I think I remember that it was Gomaespuma on M-80, that radio station that made an investment in records and continues to take advantage of them. As I was saying, I was listening to the radio, when they introduced a couple of brothers who were starting out, the Muñoz brothers, David and José, Estopa. Estopa is at the end of the nineties the natural evolution of the rumba of the seventies and eighties. Their music is less savage than that of eighties rumba, because at that time the situations they come to portray are not as limited as those that Los Chichos or Los Chunguitos told us, perhaps at the end of the nineties we still had the feeling that we had a better future than the one that the eighties offered to people born and raised in the neighborhoods that surrounded Madrid. Barcelona, Seville or Valencia. The influence of rock and pop is also more noticeable, especially that of Extremoduro, sometimes the phrasing is very reminiscent of Robe's. In the same way that his predecessors connected with a mass audience, Estopa connected directly with the imagination and musical taste of those neighborhood kids who had changed the heroin epidemic for joints or cocaine. Estopa's greatest virtue is its ability to portray the reality that they live in Cornellá, with endless shifts in the factory and money in their pockets to spend on long weekends. They do it with the same language that the street speaks and that is the main connection between them and the public. Their first published album, the homonymous Estopa, contains songs that we have engraved in our memory, Who is not capable of singing the choruses of Tu Calorro, La Raja de tu Falda, El Medio de los Chichos, Como Camarón or Cacho a Cacho? Another point in their favor is the naturalness that they have always given off, that naturalness, the impression of being neighborhood guys does not fit with the reality of being one of the most successful Spanish musicians of recent years, but it makes them close and tremendously friendly. A couple of years ago I came across them on the Paseo de Prado in Madrid; I saw them leaving a hotel and walking down the street, they did not refuse to take pictures with anyone who asked them. I think of the airs of some VinylRoute correspondent, who with just over three badly written pages on his CV, asked for three euros for a selfie at the anniversary party. Give the Machine Tow......~ Credits Acoustic Guitar, Electric Guitar, Accordion, Mandolin, 12-String Acoustic Guitar – José A. Romero* Alto Saxophone, Flute, Programmed By – Santi Ibarretxe* Bass – Paco Bastante Electric Guitar – Ludovico Vagnone Electric Guitar, Backing Vocals – Jaime Asúa Electric Guitar, Keyboards, 12-String Acoustic Guitar, Backing Vocals, Flamenco Guitar, Handclaps – Juan Maya Handclaps – Angi Bao, Chiqui Maya, Eva Domingo, Miguel Piqueiras Harmonica – Antonio Serrano Organ, Piano – Alfonso Pérez Percussion – Efrain Toro, Luis Dulzaides Producer, Drums, Percussion, Programmed By, Arranged By – Sergio Castillo Vocals – Chonchi Heredia Vocals [2ª Voz], Flamenco Guitar, Backing Vocals – José Muñoz Vocals, Flamenco Guitar – David Muñoz Written-By – David Muñoz, José Manuel Muñoz* Tracklist 1 Tu Calorro 3:10 2 La Raja De Tu Falda 3:22 3 Me Falta El Aliento 3:38 4 Tan Sólo 4:29 5 Poquito A Poco 3:02 6 Suma Y Sigue 3:14 7 El Del Medio De Los Chichos 3:47 8 Como Camarón 3:22 9 Exiliado En El Lavabo 3:15 10 Estopa 3:35 11 Cacho A Cacho 2:35 12 Bossanova 3:12

Estopa "Estopa" 1999 Spain Latin Pop Rock,Rumba  (50 Mejores Discos del Rock Español - Rolling Stone)

https://johnkatsmc5.blogspot.com/2025/07/estopa-estopa-1999-spain-latin-pop.html?view=magazine

https://johnkatsmc5.tumblr.com/post/788068208470016000/estopa-estopa-1999-spain-latin-pop-rockrumba

[moondal514]

Last year I had several instances where I was asked about books I read that year and I couldn’t remember most of them or even what I had thought about them lol. So this year I decided to make the effort to try to (somewhat informally) track the published non-fanfiction things I read this year in the form of monthly recaps. We’ll see how long I can consistently keep this up

Reading Recap January 2025

This month I decided to start off the year reading the things that have been on my tbr shelf of shame for some time (read: months and years), plus a few rereads and new releases. As a result, there were kind of a lot of misses (I did put off reading a lot of these for a reason 😓), but there were some big hits too

Warbreaker, Brandon Sanderson

Made the dubious decision to reread this one because of my Stormlight Archive reread end of last year. As I feared, this book didn’t live up to my memory of it, which is sad because I remember absolutely loving it the 1st time I read it but I guess that’s just what happens when you revisit things you loved as a teenager lol (and also some of what makes the book not hit for me has to do with it aging poorly in some ways that aren’t really Sanderson’s fault. For example he couldn’t have known in the 2000s that it’s a bad idea to name your main character ‘Siri’ lmao). Still, the worldbuilding is excellent, as expected from a Sanderson, but the next time I need a lore refresher I think I might just read The Coppermind instead

Remnants of Filth: Vol. 5, Rou Bao Bu Chi Ro trans. Yu and Rui

Also technically a reread for me since I’ve already read the full fan-translation of this novel, though I will say I do like the Seven Seas translation better (though of course I can’t read the story in its original language so I have no idea how it holds up as an actual translation). This volume is sandwiched by my two favorite parts of the story, so I was always going be less enthusiastic about it compared to other volumes. Still, I enjoy Yuwu for its angst and this volume certainly delivers well on that front

Erasure, Percival Everett

American Fiction was one of my favorite movies I saw last year, but I didn’t get around to reading the book it’s based on until this month. It’s a good (albeit ridiculous and kind of pretentious, but that’s the point lol) read. Everett has this very specific kind of dry humor that I find hysterically funny. I do wish the “My Pafology” manuscript part was shorter or broken up into snippets scattered throughout the book or something because reading 70 straight pages of it was very painful, but other than that I had a good time

Exposition Review, Vol. IX: “POP!”

One of my goals for this year is to get into more lit mags because, despite being an associate editor for one myself, I don’t actually read very many of them and I want to fix that this year. I liked most of the works in this issue, though I did find a few to be boring. For the most part they, for me, strike the right balance of original and experimental without completely throwing away traditional elements of storytelling. Particular standouts in this issue for me were “Four Husbands” by G.G. Silverman, “Tell the Bees” by Varsha Venkatesh, “Four Things I Never Ask About” by Christian St. Croix, and “Space Planning Proposal for My Brain” by Jessica Baldanzi

Siren Queen, Nghi Vo

I was supposed to read this two years ago but I read the first chapter and forgot about it 😓. Which might’ve been for the better ngl because I did not like this book. I’ve read good Nghi Vo, but this was not it. The worldbuilding was confusing, the plot was simply not there, the main character was soooo bland, and the epilogue, the most interesting part of the book, was super rushed. While my curiosity brought me through the whole thing, and I will say I do always enjoy Vo’s prose, there was simply no pay off and I’m very disappointed that what seemed to be an intriguing premise didn’t deliver

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun: Vol. 7, Rou Bao Bu Chi Ro trans. Jun, Rui, and Yu

Technically also a reread (though the translation of the full novel that I originally read was pretty shit). Prefacing this with the fact that I have a big love-hate relationship with this danmei novel, partly because I think the story starts getting overly convoluted at the exact arc this volume covers. However, I don’t know if it’s having an official translation or just the effect of rereading, but I found that I actually quite liked this volume, which was a pleasant surprise. There’s so much going on: the world’s worst hike, dramatic reveals, tragic character deaths, and many many plot twists. My favorite bits have to do with the delineation between “Mo Ran” and “Taxian-jun,” which becomes exceedingly stark this volume for reasons I cannot elaborate on because spoilers

Kaikeyi, Vaishnavi Patel

This is one of those instances where I’m left staring at a book in betrayal because I had given it a home on my shelf for years and it had the audacity to be bad 😔. About 30 pages in, the alarm bells of girlboss feminism began ringing and unfortunately never stopped. There are so many things about this book that annoy the fuck out of me that I could’ve made a whole separate post about it (but I’m not going to because I’m not that much of a hater 😂). I sincerely hate it when writers gloss over the already present feminist elements in the work they are attempting to give a “feminist” spin to, which Patel does in Kaikeyi over and over again. You don’t make a story more feminist by constructing an even more imposing (and rather western—ironic for a writer that claims to specialize in anti-colonialist writing) patriarchy onto it and making your main character extra special by having her be the sole female character to have characteristics that other female characters share with her in the very mythology the book is sourcing. Kaikeyi is a character ripe for a nuanced and complex portrayal and unfortunately this is not it

Gone Lawn 58: “cold moon”

This was my first time reading this magazine and overall I enjoyed it. Not all of the stories were for me, but I think if you’re looking for a place to get into flash fiction and other short-form literary works, this is the magazine for you. Particular standouts this issue for me included “Improvisations on Ligeti’s études” by Owen Bullock, “Blue” by Iris Cai, “Hammer” by Madeleine French, and “My Father Was a Cuttlefish” by Beth Sherman

All the Light We Cannot See, Anthony Doerr

I am embarrassingly late to this book. It’s been on my tbr for almost a decade, but better late than never (and there’s a reason why I call it the tbr shelf of shame 😂). Despite me being a fan of Doerr’s writing (I devoured Cloud Cuckoo Land when it first came out), I was wary to try this one because it takes a lot for me to like a WWII book. I’m extremely pleased to report that, for me, this book lived up to the hype. Doerr’s prose is gorgeous and 100000% deserves every bit of praise I’ve ever seen for it. I will say though, that I did think the alternating pov’s sometimes hurt the story more than helping it (mostly because I was much more enthusiastic reading Marie-Laure’s parts than Werner’s parts lol), but overall I really liked this one a lot

Eucalyptus Lit, Issue 5: “Bequest”

I found this magazine through looking up the founder, Iris Cai, whose story in Gone Lawn 58 I loved. Overall I found the poetry section much stronger than the prose section, though I did actually enjoy every piece in this issue. I was impressed to find stories this high quality in a journal of this size. Particular standouts for me included “Morning Climbs from Root to Stem” by Dan Rosenberg, “Pond Song” by Emily Adams-Aucoin, “Into What, Even Then, Was No Longer” by Derek Chan, and “Joke” by Jeannie Morgenstern

And Then There Were None, Agatha Christie

(Yes I reread this one because of Link Click. No, I don’t want to talk about it). It’s been about 8 years since I last read this book so it was almost as though I was reading it with fresh eyes because I didn’t remember shit 😂. The beginning was kind of hard for me to get into, mostly because I was taken aback by the amount of racism high school me didn’t remember (like rationally I knew to expect it because this is a book written by an English white lady born in 1890 and the rhyme the whole premise centers around is super racist, but it’s still kind of a shock to see an n-bomb casually dropped about 20 pages in). But once the murders start, the ball really gets rolling and it’s a fun time. I wouldn’t recommend reading this book the way I did (at night, alone by myself at work while I waited for the owner to come unlock everything because I accidentally got my stuff locked inside), but it’s iconic for a reason

A Master of Djinn, P. Djèlí Clark

I don’t think I’ve ever read a book in a steampunk setting before that wasn’t just about white people, but I think I need to read more because I had so much fun with this book. Hugely satisfying for the part of me that adores murder mysteries but has always thought that crime mystery thrillers would be so much better if the rugged male detective character was replaced with a lesbian. The setting is wonderful, an uncolonized and thriving Egypt fending off British imperialism with the aid of magic and djinn, and the main character is a kickass butch that definitely needs to learn what a work-life balance is (this isn’t a critique. I see this as a highly enjoyable feature). I do have some critiques though. I was dissatisfied with how most of my guesses about the mystery ended up being correct (I read mystery with my brain off, so if I’m able to figure it out, it must pretty obvious). Some of the anachronisms were a little too much for my history major ass and broke my immersion

A Dead Djinn in Cairo, P. Djèlí Clark

The setting is really cool, but unfortunately I found this novella to be boring. I’m not fond of stories that are essentially just one drawn out chase scene with an obvious end

The Power, Naomi Alderman

So I actually read excerpts from this book for a college class about four years ago, and while I had liked what I read, I held off on reading the full story because I had heard some fucked up shit happens in it and at the time I wasn’t sure if I could handle that. These days I read all sorts of violent and fucked up shit for funsies, so I figured that now I could take whatever this book threw at me (and I mean. I was right). I liked this book a lot actually. It's kind of Hunger Games-esque, in the sense that it's kind of a parable. The worldbuilding isn't looking to be complex and really is more of a vehicle to deliver the message the author is trying to deliver, and I can hear Alderman's message loud and clear. This can work against the book though because if you try to think about the worldbuilding too long, it makes no sense 😂 (which incidentally makes my feelings about this book similar to my feelings about R. F. Kuang’s Babel). For the most part I liked the multiple pov’s, except I couldn’t take Roxy’s parts of the story seriously. She’s living in a completely different genre than the rest of the major pov characters and it cracked me up (Allie, Margot, and Tunde are all living in The Power, but Roxy is in The Godfather 😂). But overall, it was a good read, I just probably shouldn't have read it now cuz let me tell you it did absolutely nothing to help me with my anxiety about current politics 💀

No Place on Earth, Christa Wolf trans. Jan van Heurck

This is an example of something I would usually go nowhere near if I was left to my own devices but decided to read because a fanfic I really liked listed it as an influence. Now I did read a translation, so I have no idea how this reads in the original German, but I found the this story to be very beautifully written. The prose is absolutely the highlight. It’s gorgeous. There is a sort of timeless relatability to the way the two main characters feel like outsiders that’s beautifully portrayed. I’m not fully familiar with the exact historical context of the setting, so I think there was a lot I missed, but it was a good read, one I would have liked to have read in an English class

Bad Dreams in the Night, Adam Ellis

I somehow always end up reading adamtots comics at times where they come off as the creepiest (so at night or when I’m by myself at home) and this book happened to be no exception 😂. I’ve never been a huge fan of Ellis’s art style and I wouldn’t call the comics the most creative thing in the world, but they get the job done and do induce chills. “The Girl in the Green Ribbon” is probably my favorite in this collection, mostly because that’s one of my favorite horror stories so I’m always a sucker for fanfic of it (or I guess fanart in this case 😂)

The Fifth Season, N. K. Jemisin

I have an embarrassing confession about this book: the reason why it took me so long to read it is because I kept mixing it up that YA book The 5th Wave, a book I once read the first 10 pages of in a bookstore and hated lmao. Anyways, I’ll be clowning myself for that one until the end of time because I absolutely loved this book. 100000% one of my favorite books I’ve ever read. Had I known about it in high school, it would’ve completely revolutionized my then-negative view of sci-fi as a genre. The setting is fascinating, brutal and heartbreaking. I just love the puzzle of the timeline and I definitely screamed about it as I put the pieces together, and the final line of the book confirming something about my initial guess as to why nature is so fucked up in the setting also had me screaming. What an amazing book

The Obelisk Gate, N. K. Jemisin

After I finished The Fifth Season, I was literally waiting at my front door like a dog, going ‘pakige’ until the next book arrived (it came a day later than anticipated ☹️). I must say I did like The Fifth Season more, mostly because I was missing the timeline puzzle from that book and I also found myself not very compelled by Nassun which made reading her parts kind of boring for me, but this book too was an incredible read. I really like the setting a lot and the end had me immediately pulling up the next book

[jules-has-notes]

Happy Now — VoicePlay music video short

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by VoicePlay (@thevoiceplay)

Talented musicians can make even the melancholy that follows a breakup sound beautiful. And somehow, VoicePlay managed to feature each of their members' talents in a single minute of singing with this bittersweet tune.

Details:

title: Happy Now

original performers: Zedd & Elley Duhé

written by: Jonnali "Noonie Bao" Parmenius, Sarah Aarons, Linus "Lotus IV" Wiklund, Anton "Zedd" Zaslavski, & Eric Barker

arranged by: Layne Stein

release date: 29 August 2018 (uploaded to YouTube on 1 January 2019)

My favorite bits:

starting simple with Earl's crisp melody and some sparse rhythm from Layne and Geoff

that intricate percussion line

such a lovely bell chord

those lush four-part harmonies

J.None's smooth runs

the little echo on Eli's solo ♫ "Are you happy?" ♫ before he launches into those deft riffs

Earl adding some high stacatto rhythm to the end segment

Trivia:

This is the second of three short videos the guys recorded in a single session, and released between late August and early September so that they could spend most of the month concentrating on their shows in the Philippines.

It was initially uploaded to their IGTV and Facebook pages, then reposted to their main Instagram page two weeks later. It was uploaded to their YouTube channel at the beginning of 2019, and their TikTok account in May 2021.

[wondereads]

Personal Review (09/16/22)

Strike the Zither by Joan He

Summary

Zephyr is a strategist, a brilliant one, for Xin Ren, a warlordess. Ever since Miasma, a corrupt official, took on the role of regent for Empress Xin Bao, Ren has been working to gather enough forces to free the young empress. Zephyr knows she's talented, and she knows what she needs to do to win, but the complications are unending. No one is who they seem, not the enemy strategist, not her lost family, and not even Zephyr herself.

Plot 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10

On one hand, I loved the political, military style of the story. This is a retelling of Romance of the Three Kingdoms, a classical Chinese work, and I've never read one of those before. The strategy is so interesting to read about, and there are so many good plot twists. On the other, one of those plot twists, arguably the biggest one, seems to come out of nowhere. It totally took me by surprise, but it felt rushed, and the context isn't explained enough. I think an extra fifty or so pages dedicated to contextualizing that twist and the new elements it introduces would have helped a lot.

However, I did overall enjoy the plot. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I love political fantasy. The way the events of this war unfolded was so interesting, and since the story was through the perspective of an unusually clever character, we as the readers get to be privy to many details we may have missed out on otherwise. The worldbuilding is intriguing, though there's more I'd like to know. There's enough to keep the story afloat, but I do wish there was more about the political system (i.e. how Miasma came to power, who else might have influence over the empress) and the supernatural elements (i.e. the extent of their powers, especially in different forms).

Characters 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10

I loved the characters in this book. Zephyr is my favorite kind of main character; calculating, scheming, manipulative, and wholly unashamed of it. She did what she had to do, she was prepared to make sacrifices for the greater good, but that didn't stop her from building connections. Her relationships with other people seem to make her hesitate every once in a while, adding a level of humanity, but there doesn't seem to be the sort of statement that she must choose between being capable of emotions or efficiency.

There are a lot of characters in this book, as there are a lot of moving parts, but the side characters are done well for the sheer number of them. My personal favorites were Crow, Ku, and Tourmaline. Some characters seemed pretty one-dimensional, but I feel like everyone had a little bit of depth to them by the end. Ironically, some characters only got that development after they died, but it added to the emotional weight. The only thing I could say is that Miasma, the antagonist, while she's interesting, doesn't have much depth. It's unclear whether she's seizing control to serve her own, power-hungry ends or if she has a greater reason for her actions.

Writing Style 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10

For the most part, I really like the writing, but there were some parts I just couldn't ignore. Most of the book fits the setting, a high fantasy world based on Ancient China, but there are certain lines here and there that are so crazily anachronistic. For example, one of the characters, a more formal one at that, says "Hey, is everything okay?" It's such a modern, casual phrase that it sticks out like a sore thumb, so much so that I was actually stuck on it for a while. If those occasional bits would be fixed, it would greatly help the immersion of the piece.

Also, I briefly mentioned this in the plot area, but this story is pretty rushed. I appreciate when a book is fast-paced, but this just went by way too quickly. For the kinds of developments that were taking place, the story desperately needed to slow down, take a breath, and explain things before moving on. For example, Zephyr plays the role of a double agent for a good portion of the book, but we don't really get to see her earning Miasma's trust. Instead, she's immediately put on the front lines opposing those she supposedly betrayed, and it feels unrealistic. If this book were fifty or a hundred pages longer, I think it would benefit it drastically.

Overall 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10

I did really like this book! I'll definitely be reading the rest of the series, and I loved the characters, especially Zephyr. However, there are certain issues, especially with the pacing, that are pretty glaring looking back. I think the overarching plot and characters did a lot of heavy lifting; looking closely reveals a lot of issues in the smaller details. I would still recommend this book—it did a pretty amazing job with the space it had, I just really wish there was more.

The Author

Joan He: Chinese American, also wrote Descendant of the Crane and The Ones We're Meant to Find, started writing fanfiction because of Spirited Away

The Reviewer

My name is Wonderose; I try to post a review every week, and I do themed recommendations every once in a while. I take suggestions! Check out my about me post for more!

[heroes-cf-hope]

The Heroes of Hope

Rock Howard- Hero

https://picrew.me/image_maker/210483/complete?cd=BV3IEA2xgZ

Age 8. (Lil Ultimate Cooking) His mother killed and his father wanting nothing to do with him, he ran away.

Alice Nakata- Fighter

Age 8. Actually there’s nothing bad in her home life like at all. She just hangs out with them thinking they’re latch key kids and have a home to go to at the end of the day.

Hotaru Futaba- Mage

https://picrew.me/image_maker/1387003

Age 7. Her mother was also killed, with her father and brother mysteriously vanishing, only leaving her with her stuffed stoat plush, Itokatsu. She joins them after Rock saves her.

B Jenet- Rouge

https://picrew.me/image_maker/1500446/complete?cd=WuUwmHJeXm

Age 9.

Orphaned and the orphanage wanted nothing to do with her. One of the original founders, and has two mascot plushes, Tizoc (a red griffon) and The King of Dinosaurs

Hokutomaru- Theif

https://picrew.me/image_maker/338886 (just remove the headband and his scarf is red)

Age 7. ADHD gremlin whose parents won't control/parent. Not because they don’t know how, they just want society to raise him for them. One of the original founders.

Shun’ei- Bard

https://picrew.me/share?cd=7Nd13DDu9N

Age 8. (Lil Ultimate Music)

Isla- Bombardier

https://picrew.me/image_maker/75517

Age 8. (Lil Ultimate Art) A rambunctious but anger filled girl who loves art. She was originally running away from the orphanage with Meitekun when she met Shun’ei and later joined the others. Has an imaginary friend named Amanda.

Meitenkun- Cleric

https://picrew.me/image_maker/75898

Age 8. (Lil Ultimate Nap Time)

Bao- Alchemist

https://picrew.me/image_maker/327/complete?cd=pogusa8hE0 (Hat is a lot bigger and Orange)

Age 10. (Lil Ultimate Science)

Kas- Knight

https://picrew.me/image_maker/43303

Age 9. Lil Ultimate Mimic

No one actually knows what happened to Kas… she refuses to speak about it and a good look in her head reveals only smoke clouds… Doesn’t really help she doesn’t really speak either. Her main form of communication is through her plush doll, Billy who the others call “her second in command.” Though she may have picked up a not so rough one…

Next Page >>>>>

[bixgirl1]

New Fic

*facepalms* Okay, I’ve been TRYING to keep my love of Xiao Zhan and Wang Yibo on the dl over the last several weeks so as to not unnecessarily squick people who don’t like rpf shipping but, honestly? I am a slag for these boys. I just am. So, I’ve created a new ao3 pseud and tumblr sideblog to rant about them whenever I feel the urge. This is the only time I’ll be sharing either of them on my main page. *hides* 

Title: Body Language Author: c’est moi, Bixgirl1823 Pairing:  Xiao Zhan/Wang Yibo Rating: I should honestly only post this one when it’s not explicit. Y’all know me by now. Hard E. Word Count: 10.1k Content: Established Relationship, Complicated Relationship, Closeted Relationship, Communication, Relationship Dynamics, Trust, mild angst, References to Fandom, a hint of praise kink, a lil edging, a bit of domesticity, pretty much all the sex. (Specific sex tags within fic.) 

Summary: Sometimes they understand each other perfectly without saying a word. Then there are the times when they have to talk. Tonight, it's a little of both. (Or: What happens when Xiao Zhan stumbles across the clip of Wang Yibo dancing with Xiao Bao on SDoC.) Author’s Notes: This is NOT MY FAULT. (A list of people at fault is provided within the fic.)

Read on AO3

[destinymalfoy73]

Best Bitcoin Casino In Malaysia – Top 7 Sites Listed

Here is a rundown of 7 most trustworthy bitcoin bookmakers in Malaysia that you ought to decide to play.

1. BitStarz Casino

Casino Bitstarz offers in excess of 2600 casino games to look over in case you are playing with Euros or US Dollars. Determination differs marginally as per the money or country you are playing in.

With Bitcoin, for instance, you can browse around 800 casino games. More information on game determination later.

MBit Casino

MBit Casino was dispatched in mid 2014, and this casino is licensed and managed in Curacao. MBit Casino is an exceptionally well known Bitcoin casino in the cryptocurrency area and growing constantly.

In 2019, the casino reconsidered all deposit bonuses and the whole VIP program. More with regards to that later in this survey.

7Bit Casino

7Bit Casino is a cutting edge and sleek Bitcoin casino set up in 2014. This casino has a wonderful stage, a wide determination of games, and quick deposits and withdrawals.

The game choice incorporates an assortment of themed slots, table games, and video game players. This 7Bit Casino survey will investigate future games.

FortuneJack Casino

FortuneJack Casino is a genuinely experienced Bitcoin casino established in 2014 by casino experts with more than 20 years of involvement with the field.

FortuneJack's development proceeds, and the casino dispatched a spic and span website in May 2018. The new website is much more useful, in vogue, and quicker than previously, which is consistently great.

BAO Casino

BAO Casino offers players admittance to a great scope of games. It employs a portion of the leading programming designers in the market and uses a wide assortment of cryptocurrency payment alternatives.

This is a truly simple site to use, with a website configuration streamlined to consider simple route. The landing page looks great and guarantees that all pages are handily figured out whenever.

Ruler Billy Casino

Ruler Billy is a genuinely new (which acknowledges both FIAT and crypto) half and half casino set up in 2017. Lord Billy has a colossal determination of more than 3500 casino games, including an immense number of slot machines, more than 2500.

With cryptocurrencies, you can play with in excess of 900 gambling games. There is additionally a wide choice of table games, including live casinos.

Bspin.io Casino

Bspin.io is a new Bitcoin casino set up in June 2018. The casino has in excess of 700 gambling games, has a Costa Rican casino permit, and at present only backings Bitcoin.

Bspin.io does various things uniquely in contrast to different casinos. The main thing you will see is the casino backend, made by Bspin.io. The route works rapidly, and the actual entryway is truly simple to explore.

[valdsforest]

Qi Wei Shang - “The Wife is First” Character/Location List

might have SPOILERS BELOW!

Incomplete / Work in Progress

[Back to Main Page]

Jing Shao (JS):

3rd Prince with title “Cheng Wang”

Jing Chen’s younger Brother

Nickname: Xiao Shao

works at Ministry of War

Mu Hanzhang (JQ):

Courtesy name: Jun Qing

title: Wang Fei aka Cheng Wang Fei

2nd son of the North Marquis(born to a concubine mother making him a ‘bastard’)

 Jing Shao’s Household Concubines:

Song LingXin (SLX):

originally secondary wife, demoted to 3rd rank concubine

daughter of Minister of War Song An

Concubine Li

send to nunnery

Concubine Yan

gave away to 4th prince

was planted as a ‘spy’ by the 1st prince

Jing Shao’s Household servants:

Ren Feng (RF)

Commander of JS’s close Imperal Guards

Steward Yun

Housekeeper / Manager of the servants

Yun Zhu (YZ)

JS and JQ’s young servant boy, mainly JQ

Dou Fu (DF)

JS and JQ’s other main servant

Zhi Xi

responsible for the food

Meng Xi

responsible for the tea

dead for drugging JQ’s food with an aphrodisiac

Miao Xi

responsible for lighting/candles and bedroom arrangements

Lan Ting and Lan Xuan

responsible for cleaning and washing

Ge Ruo Yi (GRY)

Family was killed by the King of the Southeast

JS remembers her from his past life, she helped end the war

JQ’s personal maid

Royal Family

Emperor Hong Zheng:

Current Emperor

Father of Jing Chen and JS with Empress Yuan

Empress Yuan:

Mother of Jing Chen and JS

passed away/dead

Empress Wu:

New Empress after Empress Yuan died

Mother of 4th Prince, Jing Yu

Jing Rong (JR):

Eldest Prince

works at Ministry of Work

Jing Chen (JC):

2nd prince

First born of Empress Yuan

JS’s older brother

works at Ministry of Confucian Rites

Jing Yu (JY):

4th Prince

responsible for the arrangement tributes of foreign lands

North Marquis Family

Mu Jin / North Marquis:

JQ’s father

Mu Ling Bao (MLB):

Eldest son of Mu Jin, legitimate

Older half-brother of JQ

Mu Yangwen (MYW):

JQ’s cousin

Mu Huafeng (MHF):

JQ’s cousin

Ministry 

Minister of War -> Minister Sun

Assistant of Ministry of War -> Song An

Assistant of Ministry of Revenue -> Xiao Yuan (XY)

courtesy name: Heng Zhi

JS’s friend and adviser of JS regarding on relationships

Husband to Zhou Jin 

others

Zhou Jin (ZJ)

wife of Xiao Yuan

owner of Hui Wei restaurant

close friend to JQ

Maiden Mei - old aquaintence of JS and owner of a wine store

Grandma Zhou - JQ’s wet nurse