#due to the aforementioned hard work of magic and also it being the last day of my cycle i am fucking wiped tf out

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #18 – Montress Volume 3: Haven by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda

I have been reading one volume of this comic a month, in part as a way to force myself to take it a bit slowly and appreciate the issues and volumes as distinct arcs and works in their own right instead of archive binging, and in part because a volume of comic books being more than ~20% of my reading goal for the year feels like cheating. This has accomplished both of those goals splendidly, but it is making it increasingly hard to come up with different ways of talking about the basic premise of the story. So I’m just not going to.

The plot picks up fairly directly where the last plot dropped off – with Maika having escaped the last maratime city-state she’d found refuge in (now wanted fugitive) and settling into the next one. To secure safety for herself and her little crew of misfits (eldritch god-monster her mom bore and raised her to be a host for, adorable fox-child she treats like shit, terrible cat who betrays everyone, improbably hot noble magic assassin whose technically supposed to be murdering her), she’s conscripted by the royal engineer to assist in repairing the ancient magical shield which protected the city during the last war – which, due to her heritage and the aforementioned eldritch god, she might be the only one capable of safely accessing. That (literally) blows up in everyone’s face just about immediately, and the remainder of the arc is spent scrambling to deal.

Dramatically the volume works very well as a self-contained narrative, though a decade of marvel movies have left me kind of incapable of taking a big climax involving an apocalyptic glowing hole in the sky that seriously. Beyond that though, this is definitely a Lore volume, digging deep into the history of the Shaman Empress, her relationship with Zinn, and what the other Montrum are or want. It also, if my memory is right, marks the point where Zinn finishes transitioning from this terrible quasi-unknowable parasite ruining Maika’s life and turning her into a walking atrocity to just, like, Some Guy. They’re a little shit with an improbably amount of flattering amnesia and also murder a bunch of people but like, they’re a character now. They banter with Maika constantly, and also keep fucking up and being wrong about things. Deeply endearing tbh.

This also marks the point where The Doctor and Maika’s paternal family more broadly starts being a lot more plot-relavent which, going to be honest, I’m kind of dreading. Can’t remember any real details but my memories of the whole upcoming arc basically boil down to ‘at least Maika got that badass clockwork prosthetic out of it’.

Kippa and Ren are basically irrelevant to the actual plot this time, which is totally fine because I love them both dearly and would have happily read an entire issue of them going shopping and having a nice day in the market. Kippa, besides being adorable, does actually get some pretty meaty scenes providing the view from the gutter here though – Maika gets scooped up by a scheming vizier engineer as soon as she walks into town, and also hates people, but Kippa is absolutely the sort of person to go wandering through a sprawling refugee camp doing whatever she can to help. Which is both good worldbuilding and characterization and provides some desperately needed grounding to keep the whole story from vanishing entirely into mythic freudian psychodrama.

Speaking of preferring the social and political storytelling – I’m not sure they ever actually matter, but I do love the two bit characters who occasionally get scenes of their desperate heroic spycraft and diplomacy as they try everything they can to prevent another war breaking out. Their little bit in this volume also does a great job illuminating what a broken mess the politics of the Federation is – given the incredibly vague 1930s-East-Asia analogy underlying the story’s geopolitics, I like that the genocidal power about to plunge the world into war is riven with internal contradictions and five minutes away from a coup with the army and navy barely able to stand in the same room without gunfights breaking out).

Anyway yeah, it’s still Monstress. Still good! I probably sound like a broken record saying it at this point, but the character design remains just sublime, even for very thoroughly secondary characters. Speaking of, my favourite one has now shown up!

[acceptsonlynttnightwing]

"Why are you being a killjoy, let people enjoy rings of power?"

Nope. Just nope. I genuinely think that would be a mistake. This isn't just about some random show or YA nov - it's about a series that defined fantasy books for the last 70 years! It's about an author who spent decades clarifying his books and making bloodlines and timelines coherent! It's about his son, a man who spent his entire life going over his late father's work to give us the silmarilians and other works and the published letters! It's about a group of people, who while they weren't perfect or even completely right, spent a decade of their lives trying to faithfully adapt the aforementioned peoples' work.

It's about a greedy, soulless corporation turning this seminal piece of literature into yet another random tv show (wasn't the Wheel of Time and Chronicles of Shannara enough for you ghouls?). It's about them not giving two figs about anything when the creator spent decades getting things right!! Why could Gil-galad's clothes have been silver? Would it have been so hard to get an age appropriate Celebrimbor? Why give male elves short hair and make female dwarves beardless? Why does Galadriel wear the star of Feanor when she disliked him the whole time?? Why does Finrod called her 'Galadriel' instead of Artanis back in Valinor, before Celeborn even gave her the name? Why do Gil-galad, Elrond and Celebrimbor treat Galadriel like she's younger/less experienced than them??? She's literally their aunt/great aunt, great great aunt and aunt!

These aren't conscious changes due to lack of screentime (like PJ made), they're just careless!!! And unlike Peter Jackson, who admitted to changing things, apologised and explained why, no one knows if the show writers even know they're wrong or if they even bothered to read the books!

And what's up with the fake wokeness? People keep trying to dismiss anti-rop complaints saying using PoC is an improvement, and I agree completely! I haven't seen a single post on Tumblr complaining about the race-bending, but every other defense post mentions it! Personally, I'd prefer all black or all asian elves if they'd just give them long, correctly coloured hair (a characteristic that ACTUALLY matters, unlike skin colour).

Also, Amazon's not being progressive at all? Like, Tolkien mentioned multiple times that male and female elves were physically equals - but the armies are all male. Male elves can be old instead of ageless, but the women are young and hot? Male elves have short hair and female dwarves don't have beards? How is that not just playing into gender stereotypes? The female character is inexperienced and is treated condescendingly by the male ones DESPITE THAT NEVER HAPPENING IN THE BOOKS! Galadriel fighting physically is shown as empowering vs her canon strength being wisdom and magical strength (more female coded). The hobbits have Irish accents and the elves British? Way to tick off every cliche in the book.

Everything Tolkien's ever written suggests that he would hate this! He thought Sameness and lack of originality/creativity was the difference between elvish and orc-language!

What happened to ownership and intellectual privacy? In a world where corporations can remove days of television and lifetimes of animators' work for tax benefits, where do we make a stand and say enough is enough, we won't let you destroy another unique piece of work you NEVER could have created. Art is not about making a quick buck!

And it's not just about Tolkien. It's about the swarths of awful new tv show, generic books and soulless comics being churned out by a gigantic machine that steals artists' work and underpays labourers.

And what better opportunity will we have to make a stand? There's a billion dollars at stake! Let's MAKE corporations respect us!

[kitazura]

it’s the thought that counts, tendō satori

1.6k words of fluff; gn!reader

synopsis: tendō doesn’t understand the excitement surrounding valentine’s day until he decides to celebrate it with you.

notes: i haven’t finished the manga but i’m making timeskip content :D thank u rissie (@sugas-cookie) for beta-ing mwah <3

Tendō’s come to learn that Valentine’s day brings waves of purchases made by eager youth preparing to confess their affections, frantic lovers who’d completely forgotten about the occasion, and other last-minute shoppers looking for gifts to give their loved ones. This year is no different; the orders pile up so quickly he can barely keep up with them.

He’s not complaining—not when his bills are getting paid—he just doesn’t understand why everyone lets themselves get carried away by the Valentine rush. At the root of it all, it’s blatant commercialism, another scheme by society to run your bank account dry through obligatory benevolence, so why play into it? Well, as long as it keeps him in business, he supposes he’ll keep his critiques to himself.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little cynical?” you say when he shares his thoughts, the gentle smile on your lips showing you mean no harm. “I think the idea behind Valentine’s day is charming.”

He brushes his thumb over your cheek, humming in response. “Why’s that?”

“Isn’t it sweet when someone puts time and effort into something just for you?” you gush. Tendō watches your gaze turn dreamy as your mind wanders off into the clouds. “Like making chocolates for the person you like.”

“That’s what I do for a living, darling.”

“You like all of your customers?”

“Of course; they give me money, after all.”

You laugh, swatting his arm lightly. “I guess it’s hard to romanticize something you do as work.”

You’re not wrong. At some point, it’s expected for your job to lose its magic, no matter how passionate you are about it in the beginning. Chocolate has long lost its allure to Tendō, and now he spends day in and day out pouring it into molds and hurrying to shape it before it hardens beyond salvation. It’s become a chore for him, and even just catching a whiff of a candy bar sends his brain into the stress of work mode.

“What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?” you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

“What an odd question,” he remarks, clicking his tongue like a fussy mother hen. “I think about what I have to do to make it look presentable, of course. And then I count down the minutes until I come home to you.” He beams, proud of his response.

But pride turns to dismay when he catches a glint of disappointment in your eyes. His expression falls as he pulls you closer. “What’s the matter?”

You shake your head. “Nothing, nothing. Would you ever make me Valentine’s day chocolates?”

He tilts his head in surprise, then kisses your forehead. “I’d make you chocolate any day; all you have to do is ask.”

You seem to drop the matter, although he swears you sigh, “It’s not the same.”

He spends the next couple of days convincing himself he’d only imagined it, but something about your tone and attitude makes it stick in his brain. Whether you’d said it or not, there was clearly something behind your first question.

He asks you about it over dinner: “Is there a reason you want Valentine-themed chocolates in particular?”

“You’ve been thinking about that?” You laugh a little, surprised. “It’s not the Valentine theme I want; just the knowledge that you’re thinking of me on that day.”

He pesters you to elaborate—he’s always thinking of you, don’t you know that?—but you dodge his questions, leaving him in the dark once more.

Since you won’t give him any answers, he’ll just look for them on his own.

He texts Ushijima that night: “Why do you buy chocolate for the one you love?”

“Because they like it,” comes the reply. It’s simple, straightforward, but it’s not what he’s looking for.

He texts Semi the same question. The response is the length of a school essay, explaining the motivations of love in depths only a poet could reach, but it’s still not enough.

At work, your question echoes in his mind: What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?

What was he supposed to think about aside from the process? His customers?

He looks again at the order he’s making. It’s one he expects every year—it comes a week before Valentine’s, by a man whose wife adores chocolate covered strawberries. Tendō remembers it not only because of its consistency, but also because it’s always preceded by an order by the aforementioned wife, who asks for milk chocolate filled with raspberry créme that her husband is so fond of.

He wonders why they order the same thing at the same time every year. There’s no surprise in it, so what’s the point? Had he been in the husband’s place and you in the wife’s, he’d make sure to buy you something different every year, each present more extravagant than the last. He’d make sure that you’d always have something to look forward to in your married life.

A cheery little tune takes form beneath his breath as he pictures a life with you: silver bands around your fingers, lazy mornings on your days off, walks along the Seine.

He sweeps the excess chocolate off the molds in one clean stroke, sighing dreamily. You would buy a bigger, better apartment once you’d saved up enough, or even move to a quiet little cottage in the countryside.

His thoughts wander through the clouds as he mindlessly flits from one project to the next, forgetting to count the hours until his duty for today is through.

Lately, some of Tendō’s usual customers have been dropping by to say the same thing: there’s something different about his work these days. It’s not negative; on the contrary, actually, the quality’s spiked. But he can’t figure out what he’s been doing differently for the life of him.

It weighs on his mind from the time he clocks in to when he clocks out. He’s been using the same ingredients, the same equipment, so what was it?

His answer arrives in the form of the Chocolate Strawberry man, on the very eve of Valentine’s.

The man enthusiastically shakes Satori’s hand and thanks Him for his work, his hands warm and clammy from excitement despite the biting Parisian air.

“My wife would have liked to come along as well, but she’s preoccupied with the baby,” the man explains. “She wants you to know how much she enjoys your work, though. We look forward to it every year.”

“Then why not buy it off-season, when it’s cheaper?” Tendō asks. The man looks surprised, prompting him to continue. “With all due respect, you order the same thing every year, anyway, so why wait?”

The man laughs at the sincere look of curiosity in the chocolatier’s eyes, patting him on the shoulder, like a father to his son. “Why wait until birthdays to buy a cake? Why wait until Christmas to exchange gifts and set up the tree? It’s old advice, but it’s good: it’s always the thought that counts.” With one last pat on the back and an affectionate chuckle, the man wishes Tendō a good night—“Enjoy tomorrow with your loved ones.”

The stores are packed with the usual extremely last minute rush on Valentine’s morning, and for the first time, Tendō Satori is part of that crowd.

His arms are filled with the goodies he’d woken up early to buy: heavily discounted candies in tacky packages, a cheesy card, a bouquet, an offensively pink stuffed bear, crumpled foil balloons. (He’d made chocolates for you too; those were waiting in the fridge at home.) If it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you wanted, he decided, then it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you’d get.

He’d sent you out to pick up a cake across the city just before he’d left that morning, so the apartment is still empty when he returns. He checks his watch—only half an hour at most until you’d come back. Setting the bear on the counter, he gives it a determined grin.

“Think I can set everything up in fifteen?”

He’s just barely managed tying the balloons closed when he hears the knob on the front door jiggle as you unlock it.

“I’m home!” Your shoes thud to the floor, joined by Tendō’s footsteps as he hurries to help you with the cake. You thank him when he takes it out of your hands and leads you to the dining table while you chatter away. “Boy, did you see how many people are out there? It’s like all of Paris decided to run their errands this morning. It’s a miracle I got the cake here in one piece—what’s all this?”

Tendō grins, proudly motioning to his handiwork. The bouquet sits in the center of the table, surrounded by neatly arranged dishes of your favorite foods. The plush bear sits at the head, the card and candies tucked into its paws. Balloons reading “Happy Valentine’s” are tied to your chairs, gently swaying to and fro in greeting.

“Do you like it?” he asks. “I figured you wanted to do something for Valentine’s, but all the restaurants are booked so I had to improvise—”

You cut him off with a kiss, and another, then another. “I love it! I love you and I love”—you wave at the room—“all of this.” Another kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for thinking of me, Satori.”

He laughs as you hug him, squeezing as tight as you can. He thinks back to the strawberry man’s remark, “It’s the thought that counts.” And maybe, just a little, he’s starting to understand that there’s more to Valentine’s than business.

As you prepare the cake and gush over the bear, he pats the pocket of his jacket. The pretty little velvet box would have to wait until after lunch.

postscript: heyyy <3 i stopped writing for like three months srry LMAO but im back in business baby !! if i try hard enough and school stops kicking my ass maybe i’ll start posting twice a month ahaha ... unless?

[xsailormobian]

how would you rank Sonic girls in terms of power levels?

Hi Anon, sorry for taking a while! For this one I’ll proceed with categories, because many of the Sonic ladies are tied to the same rank and/or have fundamental differences between them that need to be acknowledged. This will be mainly about physical strength and won’t be an indicator of the girls’ character or general abilities outside of this criteria.

(Note: this is a subjective ranking, and not all of the girls are part of this list because there are a lot of female characters, some of which I don’t know enough about to include. Enjoy!)

1) Magical strength ✨

There are characters that, while not necessarily physically strong, can wield some form of magic and thus prove more deadly than someone with raw strength. Blaze with her fire power is a good example of that! Without them I’d probably put her in the fourth category, but her pyrokinesis coupled with her stamina and agility firmly place her as the leader of this category.

Other contenders include Merlina and Shahra, as they can both use magic as well. However we don’t know the full extent of Merlina’s powers, so her relative strength compared to other characters is debatable (though we should note the ease with which she beat Sonic to a pulp in SATBK). As for Shahra, her powers seem to be mostly tied to wish-granting, some of which she isn’t able to grant as a Ring Genie; which would create a lot of limitations to what she can do. And it’s also debatable how much their powers could work outside of their storybook worlds sooo... Blaze basically reigns supreme.

Number one in this category: Blaze the Cat

2) Raw physical strength + regular training 🔥

This is probably what you meant by “power levels” and, if we’re excluding magic users, the characters in this category are the true powerhouses of the Sonic franchise. And uuuh I could only think of two!

Bunnie and Amy are two of the physically strongest female characters, way beyond even the contenders of the third category due to the fact that their strength is one of their defining abilities. Bunnie is a Robian and has been shown to be able to lift people, trees, and many other heavy stuff with relative ease. And obviously she needs her whole body to be as strong as her robotic arm and legs otherwise she might, uh, break her spine trying to lift stuff. As for Amy, she has a giant hammer she can lift without any problems and use in fights, and she also trains a lot to get stronger if Sonic Battle is any indication.

On the whole, they’re pretty equal. If we’re excluding the cartoonish displays of Amy’s strength (Sonic X and co.) I’d say Bunnie is realistically the strongest because she has mastered her own strength. Amy, while really strong, is still young and mostly gets her bouts of energy from powerful emotions: while they temporarily make her surpass Bunnie in terms of raw power, they aren’t a constant and can get her into trouble/exhaust her needlessly. She will definitely surpass Bunnie at some point however because the latter’s cybernetic limbs have their limits, meaning that her strength is pretty much set for life. If Amy keeps on training and gaining discipline, she’ll definitely become the leading character in this category by the time she reaches Bunnie’s age.

Number one in this category: as of now, Bunnie Rabbot

3) Professionally trained and/or often on the field ⚔️

These characters would be the second physically strongest due to them being trained to fight, and thus having more discipline, knowledge, and control over their strength and weaknesses than characters from later categories.

One example would be Rouge since, as a government spy and G.U.N agent, she’d have to be pretty well trained to carry her missions to completion. Plus she tends to attack a lot with her legs, so I’d imagine most of her physical power would be there. Other professionally trained agents include Topaz and Madonna Garnet.

Then we have characters who aren’t exactly professionally trained but who still do train due to spending a lot of time on the battlefield. You’d have (I assume) Julie-Su, who is a melee kind of girl; Sally, who fights with swords and is pretty agile all around (though she’s more of a strategist and doesn’t have as much physical strength as, again I assume, Julie-Su would); and Whisper, who would be last because she’s a long-range fighter and thus tends to fight from a distance, though she’s familiar enough with battlefields to intervene if needed.

Note that while all of them have training and experience, how self-taught they are is up for us to guess. For this reason I would put Rouge as the leading character because she has shown a good display of physical strength and seems to be both the most mature and experienced of the bunch. Coupled with her flying abilities and craftiness, I think she could go toe-to-toe with someone much stronger than her like Bunnie (and defeat Amy pretty easily due to her aforementioned lack of discipline), which I wouldn’t say of the other trained ladies here.

Number one in this category: Rouge the Bat

4) Not trained, but have enhanced abilities putting them above average 👟

The title is pretty uninspired, but it says it all! These characters are rookies in some ways, either because they just started training to fight of simply because they aren’t fighters, but they have special abilities and/or potential putting them above the “average” category. Think Tangle with her tail, Cream with her ability to fly, Mina with her speed, and Honey with her wings.

Of the bunch, I’d say Honey and Mina are the weakest simply because they aren’t interested in fighting. Mina was (and I say it with love) a pretty lame Freedom Fighter and hasn’t used her speed all that much since becoming a pop star; as for Honey, while she can stand her ground in a fight, she’s ultimately a fashion designer above all.

Cream meanwhile wants to grow up and become a hero like the people she admires (mainly Sonic and Amy). This intent, coupled with her being able to fly and carry people, show that she has the potential to one day become leader of this category. Maybe more if she decides to pursue it further, but since she still has seeds of being a pacifist, I can also imagine her deciding to do something else when she’s older (exploring the world, taking care of animals and chao, etc.) For now I’d say Tangle takes the win because... well to start with, she isn’t six anymore haha; but also because she has shown physical strength and has started training herself seriously to become a hero. While still a rookie, she could definitely become an honorable member of the third category in the future.

Number one in this category: Tangle the Lemur

5) Average Jane 🍵

In a world full of fighters and overpowered characters, it’s not that surprising that the “average” category would come second to last. But here it is! Here you’ll find girls that aren’t fighters and don’t have any particular abilities, such as Elise (since she can’t control Iblis, and especially since Solaris has been erased from existence), Vanilla, Tekno and Sonia (who would have some knowledge about fighting but nothing more), Zooey, Perci and Staci, Jewel, and basically every female civilian you can think of.

I’ll also add Marine because although she has shown some kind of aqua powers at the end of Sonic Rush Adventure... I don’t exactly know what it is? She’s complicated haha. If it is really what it is then she’d probably be part of the fourth category alongside Cream.

Otherwise it’s pretty hard to choose a leading character because, well, this is the “average” category. I’ll go with Vanilla because she has mom energy and could intimidate anyone, which is a pretty impressive strength in itself.

Number one in this category: Vanilla the Rabbit

6) Not physically strong 🎐

And lastly, we have the female characters who are physically weaker than average. The most notorious example would be Maria, whose health was very fragile due to contracting NIDS at a young age. I would also include Cosmo by virtue of her being both a “plant” prone to dizziness and having very few offensive abilities, making her one of the weakest characters in the series; as well as Tikal because she’s... literally a spirit, as well as a pacifist (when alive she’d probably be on the weaker side of the fifth category).

And finally I would include Nicole as she is physically a hand-held computer and only has real powers in the digital world. On a physical plane, she can at most simulate a Mobian form for a while; but since she isn’t corporeal, she’d probably have really low physical strength. I would say she is the strongest of this category by virtue of her being versatile and able to carry a fight at the very least in the digital world, and still having a few abilities to defend herself and others in the physical world. (I debated making her part of the fourth category but since she mostly exists either as a computer or as an hologram, I felt it wouldn’t be fair to make her compete with Tangle or Honey).

Number one in this category: Nicole the Lynx

TL;DR: My final classment would be Blaze as the strongest thanks to her powers and her mastery over them, followed by Bunnie (who will one day be surpassed by Amy once she gains discipline), and then Rouge due to her experience as an agent. Thanks for reading!

[flowercrown-bucky]

That Old Black Magic

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Modern!Loki x Reader, Modern!Thor x Reader, Loki x Wanda

Series Warnings: Cheating, affairs, swearing, legal alcohol consumption, smut later on, mention of smoking

Summary: What do you do when you fall in love? Embark on a clandestine affair with their brother, of course.

Authors’ Note: This is very dialogue heavy towards the end. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya. Oh, and hold tight, it’s a long one.

I was supposed to post this yesterday but forgot oops

Start At The Beginning | Series Masterlist

Chapter Five - Regarding long dismissed feelings that must, as ever, be addressed.

TAG LIST: OPEN (PLEASE COMMENT OR MESSAGE ME IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE ADDED!)

“Y/N?” He muttered into your hair.

You murmured in response.

"I love you."

"What?" A spluttered, incredulous laugh left your lips. "Sorry, Loki, for a moment, I thought you said you loved me."

This was it, Loki thought. This was his do or die moment.

"I did." He mumbled. "I do."

Your whole body froze. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. His words echoed in your ears.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I. Love. You.

It wasn't possible. Loki didn't love you. Loki couldn't love you.

You'd played this game since the very first time you'd met. Dancing around each other, skirting around your feelings. Secret, exciting, harmless. You were drawn to him and he you, there was no denying that. Since you'd first met, you'd been drawn together, as if dictated by the will of some cosmic force.

But it was never anything serious. Never anything real. You'd had your moments, quiet and tender and clandestine, hidden away from prying eyes. Moments where you'd wondered how things would pan out if circumstances were different. If - and it was a big if - you weren't engaged to his brother.

As you closed your eyes, hundreds of Lokis' filled your mind.

Loki at the garden party. Loki half-smiling at a joke you'd told. Loki laughing so hard he spat beer out his nose. Loki sleeping on his brother. Loki in the sea under the moonlight. Loki gently embracing Wanda. Loki gently embracing you. Loki that night on the roof, mere steps away from pouring his heart out to you. You looked at the Loki before you. His bottom lip trembled slightly, his eyes glassy.

"Wanda..."  Your voice trembled as you spoke. "Thor."

He stepped closer to you, wrapping his arms around you, cradling your body.

"It doesn't matter about them." He murmured, his voice low and soothing. "It doesn't matter about anyone. All that matters is me and you. So long as I love you and you love me, everything will be ok."

You said nothing, trying very hard to disguise how every muscle in your body was tensing under his touch. You weren't fooling anyone.

"You do love me, don't you?" He stepped away, trying to meet your gaze. "You love me too, right? Y/N?"

You turned your head as shame filled your body. Tears filled your eyes, and you worried that if you looked at him you might start bawling uncontrollably.

"Y/N." His voice was low. "Do you love me?"

Your silence said it all.

"I'm sorry, Loki." A tear escaped your eyes, rolling down your cheek.

"You do, Y/N." His voice was almost pleading, his hands catching your biceps. "You do love me, I know you do. Everything that's happened, everything between us, I know you do. Say you love me."

You had been right. The sight of him had, in fact, caused you to sob uncontrollably, your body trembling under his firm grasp.

"Say it, please." He begged you, tears rolling down his face. "Please, tell me you love me. Tell me the truth. Please."

"I'm sorry, Loki." You repeated.

"You do, you do." It seemed like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. "I know you do."

"Loki, stop." You pushed him away from you. "I'm sorry, Loki, but I don't love you."

Loki felt like he'd been stabbed, your words like a knife driving straight through his heart. His breaths escaped him, as if he'd taken a heavy fall, his lungs suddenly feeling as if they'd been shattered. He'd never felt this way before, he felt almost as if his heart was about to quite literally break into two pieces, taking out most of his vital organs in the process. How had he been so wrong? Could he have really misjudged everything that had happened so badly? He thought back to the first time he'd met you, the way you'd looked at him then.

He thought about the way you were looking at him now.

"You don't.... Love me?" He whispered, his eyes brimming with tears.

You wiped the teardrops from your eyes uncomfortably. You weren't sure what to say.

"I should.. I should probably go." He rubbed at his eyes, turning and all but running for the door. "Just, don't tell my brother, okay?"

Your heart lurched in your chest. Could you let him go that easily?

"Loki!" You called after him. "Loki, wait!"

You were met with nothing but the slamming of the door.

Loki slammed the door of his flat with force it had never known before. Was he angry? Was he sad? He wasn't entirely sure.

He'd headed for the Kraken when he entered his kitchen, his fingers unscrewing the bottle as if it was of their own accord, pouring himself a more than healthy portion of rum. He sat himself down on the balcony, his fingers trembling as he attempted to light his cigarette. It took five tries but eventually, the zippo gave in and his Marlboro Lite was smoking .

After three drags of his cigarette and two sips of his rum did he eventually allow himself to cry. Tears rolled down his face, his nose filling with snot. Every contraction of his throat and chest felt like it might be his last. It felt as if every single sob might shatter his rib cage. How could he have been so wrong?

Thor had found you curled in a ball, crying, and more than slightly tipsy.

"I'm sorry, my love." Was all he'd said, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You'd been scooped up gently, and placed in your bed, the duvet tucked around you.

"Loki didn't come round, did he?" He asked, climbing into the bed next to you. "I forgot I'd invited him."

You shook your head violently.

"Look, I'm really sorry." He reached over to you, wrapping you into his chest. "I shouldn't have stormed out like that. I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you too." Your voice came out in a whisper, unable to look him in the eyes.

How could something so right feel so wrong?

Meanwhile, Loki had been living the endlessly grey shades of life. It wasn't as if anything had changed. Anything but, really. His life had remained exactly the same.

He woke up every day at 6:05 and went for his daily jog. Monday through Friday, his breakfast would be a largely uninspiring bowl of porridge, following a shower that had, for a week, been cold due to his boiler's diverter valve sticking. He'd arrive at his office between 8:35 and 8:50 AM (Traffic-dependent), which gave him precisely enough time to make himself a large coffee - black, with one sugar - and read through his case notes before his first client meeting of the day. His working day would often overrun by an hour or so, which he didn't mind on days he was on his own (The exceptions to this being Thursdays and Fridays, Fridays being date night). Honestly? He happily stayed at the office until 7PM, giving him just enough time after he'd cooked and eaten to wallow in misery and self-pity, followed by an hour of half-hearted chatter with Wanda on the phone before he decided bed was the wisest option.

On Thursdays, he stayed at Wanda's. This typically meant he had to leave the office before 5:30, else she'd worry. They'd have a perfectly pleasant meal and a few glasses of wine before settling on the sofa to stream Netflix shows, before retreating to her room to fuck before going to sleep. The sex, as the chatter, had also become half-hearted, and this, he could tell, was something Wanda was becoming increasingly suspicious of.

It was a Thursday such as this that Loki had bailed on. He wasn't feeling well, he'd told his girlfriend. It wasn't entirely untrue.

You had hurt him unbearably, and that, was not a well feeling.

Not to mention that the pretence was killing him. Pretending you were in love with one woman when you were truly in love with another was no easy feat (Not to mention you'd soon be his sister in law, which would make his feelings a little too Game of Thrones for his liking), nor was pretending to be insanely busy so as to avoid both aforementioned women and the latter's fiancee.

Not to mention how you'd crushed his heart under your proverbial heel, leaving the proverbial shatters in the proverbial dust.

He'd wondered briefly on his drive home if he'd ever catch a break.

So, he lay sprawled on his sofa, a large wine in his hand, trying to ignore the phone lying next to him that was constantly notifying him of his girlfriend's concern for his welfare, and trying not to dwell on the fact that he could not dispel the image of your face from his mind every time he fucked said girlfriend.

So, naturally, the knocking on the door had really pissed him off.

He stormed over to the door, internally condemning whoever it was who'd decided to come visit him. What was so important they couldn't have just texted? If it was a door-to-door salesman or an evangelical believer, he would have to utilise extreme restraint in order to not knock them out. He flung the door open, ready to snap at whoever it was.

He was not expecting it to be you.

"Hey, can we talk?" You turned to face him. The smile on your face was small, shy, reassuring, but it still dazzled him.

He wasn't sure what to say. In all truth, he was completely dumbfounded.

"No." Was all his mouth could conjure up.

He'd been dreaming of this for weeks, of you rushing into his arms and declaring your undying love for him, but now that you were here, all he felt was anger. Anger for how you'd humiliated him, anger for how you'd hurt him. As if his body knew better what was good for him than his brain did, his arms reached out by themselves and slammed the door.

If Loki thought you'd leave him alone at that, he was very much mistaken. You clenched your hands into little fists, banging on the door with each alternately. You'd come to talk, and you were not someone who would leave things lying down. You were a fighter, and you'd be damned if one man thought he was going to change that.

His confession had deeply unsettled you. Panicked you, even.

You knew he felt for you. After all, he’d made no real attempt to hide it. Regardless of your own feelings, pushing him away, you knew, was the best thing to do for everyone. You loved Thor, and Loki would get over it. In time, he would come to see that you’d made the right choice.

You did not like the little voice in the back of your mind that constantly reminded you that it was him clouding your thoughts as you drifted off to sleep in his brother’s arms.

"Loki!" You yelled. "I know you can hear me."

Your banging on the door continued for another minute until you heard shuffling from the other side.

"Will you shut up?" He grumbled. "I have neighbours, you know."

"Then let me in." You argued.

The sigh that came from the other side of the door came from a man who sounded like he was really, really done. The door swung open, revealing a man who looked as exhausted as he sounded.

"You have five minutes." He told you, his arms crossed over his chest.

Loki was not sure why exactly he had let you into his flat, but there you were, sat on his sofa opposite him.

"I'm sorry, Loki." You said, looking up at him.

"So you've said before." He but his lip, staring down at his shoes.

"I humiliated you." You said.

"Yeah, you did." A bitter laugh left his mouth.

"I hurt you." You continued.

"That too." He brought his hand up to his throat, undoing his top bottom.

"Can you just stop, and listen, just for a second?" You asked. "Yes, I hurt you, yes, I humiliated you, and a whole lot more, too, I would imagine. But I want to move on from this! I want us to be the way we were! Is that too much to ask?"

"Y/N, you didn't just hurt me." His voice was low, quiet. Calm, even. "I held my heart out to you, and you trod it into the dirt. I told you I love you, and you didn't love me back. That, I can live with. But now, you say you want back in on my life? To what, to laugh at me? Why the fuck are you even here, Y/N?"

You bit your lip, trying very hard not to cry. It wasn't working.

"Say something." Loki rose to his feet, standing roughly half a foot from you. "Fucking say something! Why the fuck are you here, Y/N? To throw it in my fucking face?"

"Because I do." You whispered, covering your face with your hands.

"What?" He asked, stopping in his tracks.

"I fucking love you, Loki!" You shouted, suddenly finding your voice, and in the more literal sense, your feet. "I fucking love you and I'm engaged to your fucking brother, and that's so many kinds of fucked up I don't even know where to begin."

To say Loki was stunned did not even scratch the surface.

He stared at you, his mouth opening as if he were about to speak, but no words came out. For so long, he’d ached to hear those words, but now you’d actually said them, he wished you hadn’t. He almost wished there was some way he could push them back into your mouth, make them unsaid.

“You do?” Was all his brain could think to say.

You nodded, suddenly bashful, unable to look into his eyes. You stood, awkwardly facing each other. Your heavy breathing was the only noise in the room, sneaking glances at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, to see if they were looking at you. Who would be the one to break the silence? He reached for you, tugging you into his arms. Your head fell against his shoulder, your body contained in his arms as they wrapped around you. In spite of yourself, you let out a heavy sigh.

‘Push him away, it’s for the best of everyone’, the voice in the back of your mind chided. Bang goes that theory.

You opted to ignore it.

“Hey now, stop with those tears.” His tone had become soft, a world apart from the anger from just moments ago. “You’re much too beautiful to cry.” His hand came down to cradle your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes with his thumb.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whispered.

“I know.” He replied.

“It’s wrong.” You continued.

“I know.” He repeated.

You nuzzled your head into his chest, relaxing under his touch as your arms wound around his neck.

“Loki.” You whispered, your voice hoarse. “Loki, I want you to kiss me. Please.”

He blinked at you in disbelief. He’d waited a year and a half to kiss you, and now you were actually asking, his body seemed to be betraying him.

You looked up at him, one eyebrow slightly quirked.

All he could think was how pretty your eyes were.

“Well?” You asked.

Chapter Six - I Put A Spell On You

—

[Also, little known fact about me - I’m a professional copywriter. I wrote this in between some other pieces and I can hear my professional voice coming through in this where I’m usually able to separate the two, but I sort of roll with it here. So you know, like, soz. I guess. #sorrynotsorry. Also, while I’m here, don’t cheat on your partners kids.]

—

SERIES TAGS:

@jessiejunebug @sherlockfan4life @soapbox-moments @amour-delicate @milea @writingforthelonelysoul @justyourneighbourhoodretard @chxrryycola @erinlaufeyson @marvelousell @rogerrhqpsody

[kagomiko]

real name : higurashi kagome  /  日暮ひぐらし かごめ . single or taken : timeline dependent , single  /  married . abilities or powers : her most noteworthy ability is her immense spiritual power , which she inherited from kikyo . kagome can also perform spiritual energy projection , which has said spiritual energy concentrated in the palms of her hand & ultimately released for offensive purposes . kagome is also capable of spiritual reflection , wherein her opponents spiritual energy is thrown back at them . another key skill is kagome’s innate spiritual awareness , which allows her to perceive or sense unwordly things such as ghosts , spirits or demonic auras . illusion & demonic immunity is another natural ability ; she upholds it effortlessly due to her aforementioned immense spiritual power , in addition to her usually being free of negative emotions . purification is one of her more developed skills ; kagome is able to purify malevolent forces , such as demonic energy or miasma . she does this by releasing pure spiritual energy , which she constantly releases unconsciously , however its far more powerful when concentrated through tools like her arrows . infamously known for her miraculous ability to time travel , kagome is able to travel between modern day & feudal japan . additionally , she is immune to any time-stopping spells , as she has a flow of time unique to her . last but not least , archery . kagome’s extensive travels throughout a warrning country helped shaped her into a fair marksman & archer . eye colour : brown . hair colour : black . family members : mother anka higurashi , younger brother sota higurashi , grandfather , husband inuyasha , daughter moroha , brother-in-law sesshomaru , sister-in-law moe , nieces setsuna  /  towa  /  mei . pets : her family cats name is buyo . she’s a female calico . the name buyo seems to be from the japanese onomatopoeia of a squishing noise which can also mean flabby or squishy .

something they don’t like : injustice , discrimination , rainy days , artificial flowers , white feminism , math , hypocritical behaviour , breaking in shoes , bad hygiene . hobbies/activities : writing ❪ in her journal most actively , but also poetry , short stories & novels ❫ , calligraphy , ikebana , herbalism , cooking , skating , bicycling , archery , swimming , & embroidery  /  sewing  /  knitting  /  stitching  . ever hurt anyone before : by nature , kagome is a kindhearted , compassionate & benevolent individual . that said , she does have a strong sense of justice & never hesitates to rise against those oppose her beliefs . she chooses her battles , but fights hard , especially when she’s fighting someone whose hurt her friends or family . prior to falling in love with inuyasha , she had little to no genuine moments of selfishness or greed . it wasn’t until she wanted him so strongly that we begin to see more relatable behaviour from kagome , especially in regards to her complicated relationship with kikyo . additionally , one could argue that her repeated indifference has hurt hojo on more than one occasion . animal that represents them : butterly . the butterfly is one of the most emblematic totem animals , symbolizing powerful  /  personal transformation , metamorphosis in your life , renewal  /  rebirth , lightness of being , playfulness , elevation from earthly matters , tuning into emotional or spiritual energy , & the world of the soul . worst habits : overworking , not getting enough sleep , having a huge to-do list , daydreaming , extensive inner-monologues , & exclusively in regards to her respective relationships with inuyasha & sota , losing her temper .

role models : first & foremost , her mother . they’ve always had a very healthy , respectful & loving relationship . when kagome’s father died , her mother was still pregnant with sota . being thrust into a such harsh reality was horrific for all those involved , but nevertheless , her mother , anka , continuously put her best foot forward & solidified herself with breathtaking resolve . kagome saw firsthand how her mother held things together for their family , built a new life for them , & continued to be a beacon of unconditional love & support throughout the entirety of her life . another significant role model for kagome is aung san suu kyi , who campaigned for democracy in burma . she became the first state counsellor of myanmar & was awarded a nobel peace prize for her non-violent struggels for democracy & human rights . kagome also admires audrey hepburn , a beloved actress who is revered not only for her acting skills but also her philanthropic work as a unicef ambassador . she led a life devoted to kindness & compassion while being a phenomenal mother , wife & humanitarian . sexual orientation : undetermined , potentially pansexual . thoughts on marriage/kids : kagome has always been a lover of love . growing up she never particularly ached or yearned for a significant other , nor does she feel the need to define herself by her romantic affairs , but she still finds love in all of its forms to be a beautiful , magical thing . she has no opposition for marriage , but carries a multitude of ambitions for her future & never held marriage as a significant priority when picturing her life . on the subject of children , kagome adores them ! she has very strong , innate maternal instincts , & can definitely finds a sense of fulfillment in nurturing the spiritual growth of children . she does want to be a mother , but it is one of many wishes for her future , & again , not a main priority . to be happy , healthy & able to give  /  receive love is what she thinks is most important .

style preferences : kagome has long since held a considerably girly fashion sense , while regularly teetering between a modest & more playful style . her wardrobe primarily consists of dresses & skirts . kagome has a particular fascination for snug sweaters & bulky cardigans that envelop her whole . she loves all colours but typically wears pastels , pinks & blues in her day-to-day . she also often wears wedge heels , moccasins or loafers . approach to friendships : notwithstanding her personal experiences with bullying when she was younger , kagome maintained a levelheaded demeanour in life , with school being no exception . she treats all with fairness & respect . kagome will normally stay to her usual group of friends , but will never hesitate to branch out to someone , should the situation call for it .even if she doesn't say a word , her feelings are known to be easy to read due to her honest expressions , which generally cause those around her to soften in tough situations & consequently be honest in return .

thoughts on pie : loves pie , especially homemade . can bake it herself but prefers her mothers . favourite drink : ice water & green tea ❪ jasmine , sencha , matcha , genmaicha & hojicha are a few favourites ❫ . favourite place to spend time at : kagome is a firm believer of the  ❛  it’s not about the place , it’s about the company  ❜  way of seeing things . however , she does have a fondness for the sacred tree  /  the forest of inuyasha . also, while she doesn’t actually go back to visit , she does have a special place in her heart for her old family home from before they moved to the shrine , as she has many memories of time there with her father .

swim in the lake or in the ocean : the ocean . their type : kagome has never found herself drawn to a particular type , at least not in regards to appearances . what is essential to her in a significant other , is a good heart . it’s not required that she agrees with them on every matter , but she needs to be able to accept & respect their point of view . if she can’t , if their heart  /  beliefs  /  values oppose her defined sense of justice in any way , she won’t overlook it . while that is most important , she may also be interested in adventurers ; people with great ambition & drive , people who are wanting to better themselves &  /  or better the world . camping or indoors : so , whilst traversing between modern day & sengoku jidai , she did unearth a newfound love & appreciation for the beauty of nature . however , as she often spent extensive periods of time outdoors , it also made her appreciate the everyday indulgences one can access through means such as indoor plumbing , electricity , hot water , etc . of course as said before , so long as the company is good , she will make the most of whatever situation she’s in , but in this instance she sees the value in either choice . everything in moderation , really .

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 : @7theaven​ ! thank u sm sweetheart i loved this . 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 : @senpujin​ , @slaheir​ , @devilreno​ , @ofmsfortune​ , @warriorhe​ , @balynce​ , @ymagishi​ , @bkugs​ , @innosen​ , @drakenskies​ , @tofiorire​ , @crimsonacrosstime​ , @puppet-slayer​ , @daikusedai​ , @conflictedhanyou​ & whoever else is interested !

[mistbornthefinal]

Madoka Magica Aniversery Analysis: Part1

 Prologue In Heaven

(just in case this is a retrospective of a 10 years old anime, there gonna be spoilers. If you’re for some reason interested in this post and haven’t see Madoka watch it first than come back)

Puella Magi Madoka Magica begins with our titular character running through a surrealist checkerboard hallway until she finds an exit. That exit opens onto a balcony which overlooks a destroyed Mitakihara.

Cue Magia as we are shown half-glimpses of Walpurgisnact. Against this devastated backdrop stands a single girl who we will later in the episode will learn is Akemi Homura. Unfortunately she is clearly outmatched by the forces arrayed against her.

Needless to say Madoka is distressed by the carnage. A strangely calm voice cut’s in which is quickly revealed to be everyone’s least favorite bunnycat Kyubey. Kyubey states that not only is this situation too much for Homura but that she knew that before coming here. After being slammed into the giant eldritch tree by one of Walpurgisnact’s attacks Homura notices Madoka and attempts to call out to her but whatever she has to say is lost in the distance.

Kubey then tells Madoka that she has the power to change all this, the power to change fate, to banish all this unavoidable carnage and sorrow. All she needs to do is make a contract with him... 

Madoka finds it hard to believe that such power exists within her but she seems to be earnestly considering his offer. Before we get a solid answer we cut to Madoka awakening in her bed, turns out it was all a dream. (Or was it? cue Connect!)

The common narrative about Madoka is that the first two episodes are basically bait. That they present a happy façade meant to lure in the unsuspecting only for them to be slapped upside the head by Episode 3′s big twist. If I have any big thesis for this particular essay it’s that this is not the case at all, and this opening sequence is exhibit A.

This whole sequence is basically is basically the core of PMMM boiled to it’s bare essentials. Madoka beholds the horror’s of Kyubey’s system. Kyubey’s tempts her to become part of that system with the possibility of changing things while Homura struggles to avert Madoka’s contract and thus her tragic fate by solving things without her. Right here in EP1 scene 1 Madoka lays it’s cards on the table and tells us what it’s all about. Indeed in EP12 Kyubey’s offer here will prove to be far more valid than he likely intended. 

The rest of the show is about brining us back to the point where the “dream” left off and explaining how exactly we got there. (which makes sense since we will later find out the dream is the end of Timeline 4, and our series opens at the start of Timeline 5) Given that our secondary protagonist is a time looper it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise that our narrative is a little circular. 

In our next scene we meet Madoka’s family. Madoka checks in with her dad(Kaname Tomohisa) and then helps her adorable baby brother(Kaname Tatsuya) wake up her rad as heck mom (Kaname Junko).  As Madoka and her mom get ready for the day together Ms. Kaname press her daughter for the latest gossip. 

(the only acceptable Madoka Magica waifu, seriously everyone else is like 14)

We get two other characters namedropped here both Hitomi and Kazuko, Madoka’s teacher who viewers familar with Japanese social conventions will instantly assume Junko knows since she refers to her by first name. We learn that Hitomi got another love letter and that Kazuko and her boyfriend are nearing what Junko believes is a critical point in their relationship.

Madoka is then faced with a choice between 2 types of hair ribbons. Junko urges her to go with the red ones telling her that her secret admirers will love them. Madoka protests that she doesn’t have secret admirers (Homura would disagree) to which Junko replies that they secret to being attractive is believing so regardless We then get a brief scene at the breakfast table but Madoka realizes she’s late and bursts out the door with her obligatory anime toast.

(obligatory)

On the way to school she meets up with her friends the aforementioned Shizuki Hitomi and Miki Sayaka. They discuss Hitomi’s love letter situation and Sayaka notices the new ribbons and then teases Madoka about getting dating  advice from her mom.

At homeroom we learn that Junko was eerily prescient re:Sensei love life. Madoka’s teacher (Saotome Kazuko) just broke up with her boyfriend due to a dispute over breakfast preparation, and she decided share her feels about the matter with the class to hilarious effect. After exhorting the Girls not associate with Men who demand the  Kazuko announces they have a new transfer student.

Before we tackle Homura’s introduction let’s quickly go over what’s being done in this last sequence, because this isn’t just mindless fluff. First and most obvious we’re getting introduced to almost all our secondary characters, but we’re also introduced in a subtle way to some of the themes we’re going to be dealing with. Take note in the first scene we get with Sayaka the conversation revolves around unrequited love, and then the very next scene is about a relationship that failed because the parties involved didn’t communicate their expectations of each other.  This sequence also flows very well because the first conversation between Madoka and her mom sets up both her later conversation with her friends and Kazuko’s rant.

Now that we’re done with that, enter Akemi Homura. To Madoka’s shock and our lack of shock it’s the girl from Madoka’s dream. While to whole class is fascinated by the cool and beautiful transfer student Homura only has eyes for Madoka, asking her show her to the nurses office. On the way Madoka attempts to make conversation but is thrown off by how Homura seems to already know the route. When Madoka calls Homura by her family name she visibly reacts and then tells Madoka to just use her first name.

(Madoka’s school is all glass all the time, the architecture in this show is cursed)

Homura then spins around and gives her out of nowhere cryptic ultimatum. “Don’t change who you are or else you will lose everything and everyone dear to you.” While a first time viewer is likely to be as baffled by this as Madoka it still sort of works to establish stakes. It sort of works because we just got those fluffy slice of life which establish how blissful Madoka’s daily life is and thus how much she has to lose. 

Then we get a montage of Homura being the best at everything before we cut to afterschool as Madoka is sharing her strange conversation with Homura with Sayaka and Hitomi. Neither are sure what to make of her words or Madoka’s claim to have met her in a dream. After Hitomi begs off due prior engagements Madoka and Sayaka head over to the CD store, with Madoka namedropping Kamijou as the person Sayaka is shopping with. 

We then get a intercut of Kyubey running from Homura who is shooting purple bolts of magic at him. At the CD store Madoka hear voice begging for help she follows it into an area that’s under construction. A heavily damaged Kyube than fall out of the ceiling in front of Madoka. Suddenly Homura is there demanding she get away from “that thing” but unfortunately it’s not in Madoka’s nature to abandon injured fluffy things. The two of them are at an impasse before Sayaka interrupts things with a fire extinguisher. 

The two of them book it with Kyubey in tow while Homura is distracted but she quickly dispels the cloud of fire extinguisher gas. She moves to give chase but before she can things get weird. The world is overwritten by a surrealist mosaic something that upsets but does not seem to surprise Homura.

What we will later learn is a witches barrier engulfs Sayaka and Madoka as well. Which means this as now a good time as any to discuss the aesthetic of witches and their labyrinths in a bit more detail. While the strange mixed media collage used to represent witches and their workings was and is a trip for a lot of new viewers of the series, this wasn’t a new thing for Studio Shaft who produced the series. 

(If you we’re familiar with the studio when this show was airing this sort of thing would be par for the course)

Even in 2011 Studio Shaft had built a reputation on having a weird house style that the brought to their productions. Indeed the blending of photographs of real objects into the animation is something they did before in Hidamari Sketch. Sill it cannot be denied that Inu Curry took Shaft’s house style to a new height of weird. 

Back at the plot Madoka and Sayaka are being menaced with scissors by cotton balls with butterfly wings. We also get a more prominent appearance of the witch runes (they were in the opening title card as well) these are a cypher that was surprisingly quickly decoded by the fandom. In this case the Anthonies (that’s what the cotton ball monsters are called) are talking about how Madoka and Sayaka are “unknown flowers” and thus shall go to the guillotine.

Before Gertrude’s familiars can make good on that, a new character appears. She wears the same uniform as Madoka so it’s quickly established that she a senpai at their school but before introducing herself she transforms into her magical girl form and blows away the Anthonies. All while her theme Credens Justitiam plays of course. 

The destruction of the familiars causes the labyrinth to recede and Homura quickly catches up to everyone. Homura and Mami have a tense exchange where Mami offers to let her hunt the witch and then no-so-subtly threatens her. Homura elects to back down for now.

With Homura gone Mami heals Kyubey’s injuries and the bunnycat get’s right back to his business. “Hey kids wanna become meguca?” Cue Mata Ashita (if you’re watching the blueray version).

Now that we’ve gone over the first episode in detail let’s talk a bit more in terms of how it fits into the overall structure. Like I said before the first two episodes are not just a false front to lure people into watching the “real” show. Were that true the show would have sucked and I wouldn’t be talking about it 10 years later. 

Not only is the visual tone of the series present from the word go, but the first two episodes set a baseline without which the twists and revelations of the later episodes wouldn’t be meaningful.  This episode in particular gives us a surface level introduction to all but two of our named characters. It also leaves us with a lot of questions, some of which prime us for the big exposition dump in the next episode while others will run for most of the series. 

[johannestevans]

Vampirism: What Is it?

Wrote out an article about vampires, as applied to vampires like those in Heart of Stone, and in my other original work! Thinking I might start making semi-regular Wiki-style articles with world-building like this.

Tip Jar

Vampirism is a disease communicable by a magical, blood-based virus (sanguinavirus A) originally found only in the infernal bat (Desmodus infernus), a species that came from Averna, the nether dimension commonly known as Hell, which came to Earth in approximately 9000 BC. Observing that some of these bats were very hardy and resistant to damage, in the vicinity of what is now known as Northern Iraq, some sorcerers at the time chose to examine them in detail, and realised they were infected with the aforementioned disease. By artificially cultivating the virus for human transmission, they created a strain intended to infect mundane and magical humans (sanguinavirus B), and thus created the vampire. 

Today, according to records from the International Vampiric Council, there are approximately thirty to forty thousand vampires spread across the Earth, with the vast majority of them originally having mundane or magical humans that were infected with it.  Sanguinavirus B is an extremely hardy virus that immediately makes changes to its host's make-up in order to ensure it can safely exist within it and sustain itself, and thus triggers what is broadly known as the vampiric disease.

What is a vampire? 

The term "vampire" commonly refers to a human - ordinarily but not always from a magical community - who has been infected with Sanguinavirus B, and has subsequently contracted the disease known as vampirism. This is not to say that only humans can be vampires, however - many animals are capable of contracting vampirism, as are many fae species. 

Once it has been transmitted to a new host, the sanguinavirus establishes itself in the core of its host's body, around the heart, and forms new matter that has been compared by some academics to a hindbrain. It devotes itself to initially changing the make-up of its host body, and then focuses itself on defending the host from threats, boosting immune response, strengthening the host, and ensuring it retains a temperature low enough for the virus to remain healthy. The vampiric core allows vampires to heal from even severe injuries very quickly, and makes them heavily resistant to damage or weakness. 

As well as priming its host to resist damage or attack, the sanguinavirus creates in them a heavy thirst for blood, specifically for the iron-rich protein haemoglobin, and the vampire will be driven to quench this thirst in the same way they would be hunger or thirst for water. 

A human vampire will typically develop an ability to extend two of their canine teeth, which will become very sharp, in order to pierce a victim's skin, and after making this piercing, they can lap at or suck from the blood that comes from the wounds. These teeth inject a vampiric venom, which is made up primarily of two parts - an anti-coagulant, to ensure free blood flow while the vampire drinks, and a strong analgesic that will impart a feeling of euphoria upon the victim. As a vampire ages, their venom typically becomes more potent, and stronger venom's effects can last for several days, and even have hallucinogenic effects, or induce memory loss.  

One of the primary changes in the vampire's body is in the increased density and number of tightly corded fiber that makes up their muscle: muscle becomes very tightly packed and heavy in make-up, meaning that many vampires are far stronger than their undiseased counterparts. The skin is also thickened and hardened, and the veins are tightly constricted in order to help keep them safe from harm and to ensure they are appropriately insulated by the heavy flesh. As a result of this strengthening of both skin and muscle, a vampire is typically far, far heavier than their human counterpart, and most non-vampires would struggle to lift or support the weight of one. 

With the thickening of the vampiric skin, the vampire ceases to sweat, and in such cases as the vampire becomes overheated, the veins will further constrict and the skin will become slightly thinner in an attempt to ensure heat can escape. In the case of the latter, the vampire's skin will seem chalky and strangely static in appearance, and these are the elements a doctor should look for as signs of fever, as opposed to a sweaty brow. 

Vampires do still need to eat food and remain hydrated, on top of their appetite for blood, and studies have shown that vampiric appetite is not noticeably different to that which they had whilst human, although some particularly strong-tasting or aromatic foods can become overpowering and thus less palatable once the disease has been contracted, owing to the enhancement of vampiric senses. With that said, vampires can survive starvation or extreme thirst for far longer than their human counterparts, even if they are also deprived of blood. 

 The sanguinavirus thrives best at lower temperatures, and the body temperature of a human vampire typically stands at approximately 23° Celsius, or approximately 73° Fahrenheit. Vampires are subsequently very cold to the touch, as well as their flesh being hard when pressed upon, and their bodies are often compared to corpses in physicality. Vampires prefer cooler temperatures, and although due to the magical nature of their disease, they can often retain their homeostasis up to much higher temperatures, if a vampire contracts a fever, or if they are under threat from fire, it can rapidly become very dangerous for them. 

Many vampires - although not all - are highly sensitive to direct sunlight, and have to shield themselves from the sun. It's generally recommended for vampires to shade themselves as best they can, wearing clothes that cover the skin, carrying a parasol or remaining in the shade, and to use a high-factor sunscreen. 

Those vampires sensitive to sunlight will often begin to burn and blister within minutes of being under direct sunshine, and there are documented cases - although none in recent history - of vampires dying from combustion following exposure to sunlight alone. 

Many of the vampire's senses are heavily enhanced following the contraction of the disease, particularly their senses of hearing, taste, and smell. Due to the enhancement of the latter, some vampires find themselves sensitive to some strong scents - such as garlic, fish, or some strong chemicals - and vampires typically have strong enough hearing to keep track of the heartbeats of anyone else in their vicinity.  

Although the vampire's sense of sight is not particularly improved by the contraction of vampirism (it has been noted that both colourblind vampires and vampires with myopia or hyperopia, as well as vampires who are blind or partially sighted, retain their impediments post-turning), many vampires find that the extent to which their eyes take in light is heavily improved, meaning that they can see in low-light conditions, as well as being able to navigate by ear in complete darkness. As a result of the former, vampires can develop photosensitivity, particularly to the shine of bright sunlight or to strong fluorescent lighting, and will wear sunglasses in public. 

Vampires' homes are often lit by candles or by low-impact, warm lighting that is easy on the eyes. For ancient vampires particularly, although these are problems many vampires have, adjusting to the modern world in the aftermath of the Industrial Revolution has been difficult because of the constant hum of electricity in wires, water moving through pipes, and particularly the high-frequency noises of motors and light bulbs.

 Due to the aggressive nature of the immune system after the vampiric disease has been contracted, some vampires also develop overpowering allergies, particularly to plastics, cleaning chemicals, and diesel and petroleum-based products. In urban and industrial areas, it is common to see vampires wearing clothes that cover them from head to toe, and to wear sunglasses or even goggles, and to wear some form of face covering, such as a mask or piece of gear to breathe through, and perhaps ear plugs. 

Many vampires have highly developed sound proofing in their homes, or choose to live away from urban and industrial centres in order to avoid overstimulation. Vampires are widely regarded as immortal, due to the fact that the effect of their disease is to ensure that they do not appear to age, and vampires can live for centuries upon centuries, if not millennia. 

This is not to say that the vampire is immune to damage - common causes of vampiric death are exposure to fire (although unlike humans, they do not die from smoke inhalation, but from the heat), hyperthermia, and as a result of fever from another contracted illness. 

Because of the effects of the vampiric "hindbrain", which encourages ultrafast healing in the vampire, and because the vampire's flesh is so resistant to being pierced or cut, it is difficult for a vampire to be injured. They can recover swiftly even after breaking a bone or severely injuring an organ, although they do not regenerate limbs. 

In cases of severe head injury, the "hindbrain" has been known to suddenly swell and take over many unconscious processes ordinarily controlled by the prime brain, such as control of the nervous, circulatory, and respiratory systems, giving the brain much needed time to heal itself.  With that said, vampires are not capable of limb regeneration, and they cannot regenerate lost limbs, nor regrow their head once they have been beheaded. 

A traditional method of execution for a vampire is to drive a hard stake made of iron or heavy wood through their heart while they are lying on their back - this is because a hammer is needed to work up the necessary force to pierce the vampire's hard, dense chest, and the stake must pierce directly through the "hindbrain" to prevent it from assisting the vampire in later healing.

  Sanguinavirus can be transmitted between parent and baby, although there are some additional health risks concerned for expecting parents - some vampires struggle to drink enough blood whilst pregnant, as all the protein is consumed by the foetus, occasionally necessitating a regular transfusion. 

Contrary to popular belief, children who've contracted vampiric disease do continue to mature and grow, and although they have the teeth and a mild venom from birth, they do not form the strong, dense flesh, or sensitivity to light, that is typical to vampires until they reach puberty. 

Young vampires tend to grow more consistently throughout puberty rather than having the sudden growth spurts human children often have, and as a result, many of them have complaints of sustained aches and pains until they're fully grown. With that said, on average, vampiric youths often grow taller on average than their human counterparts. They usually cease to visibly age at around the age of twenty-five.  

Being an artificially cultivated magical virus, sanguinavirus takes two elements to be transmitted - first, the new host must be bitten by a vampire, or to somehow have an infected vampire's venom in their veins, and secondly, they must then ingest the vampire's blood, or have it enter their bloodstream.  

A common myth among noble vampires, which has been roundly debunked by academics, is that the working class and poor vampires came about because they would capture and eat infernal bats that had drunk their blood. In actuality, there are vampires of all socioeconomic classes, because even at the advent of the vampiric disease's introduction to humanity, there were different sorcerers at work upon it, and later, noble vampires would often transmit the disease to their favourite servants or slaves, or to merchants and tradesmen in their communities. 

It has been posited by many academics that there is a risk of sexual transmission of the sanguinavirus between a vampire and a partner from whom they have fed, because there is a potential for blood-to-blood contact because of tiny abrasions during sex. It is recommended that vampires use appropriate prophylactics during sex, even if they are using a chemical birth control, and to use plenty of lubricant. 

Full guidelines for safe sex for vampires can be found on the website of the International Vampiric Council.

[theanimeview]

Good or Bad? An Adaptation Review and Analysis of "Suppose a Kid from the Last Dungeon Boonies Moved to a Starter Town" Episode 1 (SPOILERS)

By: Peggy Sue Wood | @peggyseditorial​

Whenever I think about adaptations, I always try to remember that the anime and manga are different works. I try to enjoy them as you might enjoy two different books with similar premises, but that doesn’t mean I don’t compare them, and this series is pretty hard not to compare to its comic-counterpart.

Suppose a Kid from the Last Dungeon Boonies Moved to a Starter Town, is a comedy, as the title implies. The MC, Lloyd Belladonna, is our overpowered center of the story seen front and center in the image above. 

As of Episode 1, we've already diverged from the manga's events, character designs, and dialogue pieces. Probably because of the race to get through content in this opening episode. What do I mean?

I mean that Episode 1 is essentially the first three and one-eights chapters of volume one, which was only about four chapters long. Now, keep in mind that much of the first volume was filler, with jokes about how overpowered Lloyd is and how he doesn't have any common sense regarding what constitutes normal because of where he grew up. The manga did not appear to be aiming for a solid, long story so much as setting up for a series of comedic events playing with tropes of the fantasy-adventure genre. (Not to imply that there wasn’t a plot in there, simply that it takes a back seat.)

The anime condenses a lot of these comedic moments, and even leaves out many details in a way that seems focused on setting up for a larger story. 

For example, in both the anime and manga, Lloyd goes on an errand run for Marie, the Witch he's to live with while attending school. When he returns from running errands in the manga, he gifts Marie a beautiful broach that she notes is way too expensive given how much money he had when leaving. Lloyd explains that he ran to another kingdom and back again to get the items she asked for since they had lower prices, allowing him to spend the money on this luxury gift for her. He also explains how he fixed a number of problems along the way that would be deemed miracles by most regular people in the text. The scene serves as another example in the text of how strong Lloyd is while also showing how little he knows about the world beyond his village. This conversation acts as confirmation, and a slight copy, of a previous retelling of events to Marie, in which Lloyd retold of how he arrived at the capital after running there over six days--a feat anyone else might deem impossible but is considered "slow" in his village. The anime, however, leaves much of these details out. For example, Marie doesn't ask him about the jewelry, nor does she hear about him running to another kingdom to pick up the items she asked for--instead, she blushes, and we move on to the next day. 

Other differences in the anime include introducing an elder-brother character who gives Lloyd a book of fairy tales that inspire Lloyd's wish to become a knight. The concept of stories inspiring Lloyd's wish is mentioned in the manga, but I do not believe that a specific book was shown nor that a brother character was present. In fact, Lloyd seems to be a child "raised by a village" in the manga, while his anime counterpart appears to have a family consisting of at least one elder brother and a grandparent.

During the aforementioned errand run, Lloyd meets Selen Hemein, or the Cursed Belt Princess, who he saves in more than one way--first from a monster and then from her curse. She becomes his stalker-like love interest (she's stanning him hardcore) that he sees her as a new friend (played for comedic effect). Her character design and personality at the end of the episode look pretty similar to her manga counterpart as with the other characters. I mention "by the end" because when we first meet her, I noticed that she had long hair, which becomes short in subsequent scenes even though I'm pretty sure we only see her with short hair at the start in the manga.

Moving on...

Are these changes good? Bad? I think these are good changes. It certainly makes the story move a lot faster. However, these changes do hold the consequences of stealing from the comedy and character personalities in many ways. For example, we see less of Lloyd's struggle with self-confidence, which changes how we view him as a character. In the manga, his self-confidence issues play a role in how he acts around others--making him act meek and brushing off compliments as someone being overly kind. This issue is compounded by the three times he does something amazing (getting to the capital in six days by running there, cleaning Marie's house with ancient magic/using runes, and the events on his errand run). This is shown in how Lloyd retells the events and is told that what he did is impressive, only to respond to the praise with growing depression and discomfort because he sees his actions as simple or lacking due to how he was raised. In the anime, we see his low self-confidence but don't get to see how extensive this issue is because we mostly see him happily exploring, smiling, and helping out. Meaning that the different approaches don’t his us the same emotionally.

This change may still be for the good of the story, as the same scenes that brought us this emotional difference in the manga, also served as comedic scenes that felt repetitive in showing us Lloyd’s OP skills.

If the anime plans to focus more on the story's adventure/fantasy elements, then these changes will remain good. It certainly allows us to fly through the exposition portion of the story quickly, which could be a good thing for those of us who already know how it begins. And I don't think it hurts new viewers who are unfamiliar with the manga-version to start with the anime. It's different, but it's consistently different, and it will probably set up an entirely new story, meaning that you won't feel the same whiplash I felt upon seeing an unknown character so early. 

Side note, someone I watched this with said that Riho Flavin is the actual female lead/main love interest, and all I can say to that is: You're wrong. Sorry (but not really).

Episode 1 leaves off at the admissions board for new students of the soldier's academy, and Lloyd's name is missing (but don't worry too much about that 😉). That's where Chapter 4 opens in the first volume. 

Would I recommend it? Yes. It's pretty good, and I have high hopes for the future of this series. I'd rate it 7/10 for now, but that could go up or down dependent on further episodes. You can watch it now on Funimation.com.

[twilight-resonance]

The Low, Interwoven

Ah, let’s see. I’m quite certain I had some particular things I wanted to write about earlier, but I can’t for the life of me remember what they were. Mostly I remember having a laundry list of mundane everydays to ramble through, so I’ll go ahead and start there and see if I remember the rest along the way.

The last few days. I didn’t write yesterday because I felt like crap. For the most part I've been handling COVID isolation well, but it’s become apparent that I need to throw a tantrum every few months about how much everything sucks and how much I’d rather be doing a million things anywhere else right now, and once all that pent-up frustration is spent I’m good again for a few months. Probably not unrelated, my focus has been absolute garbage this week. Something I’ve been working to recognize more often is that when my focus is garbage there’s a good chance I’m actually just angry, but so far I’ve had a lot of trouble actually remembering that might be what’s going on in the moment. So instead I just felt frustrated and guilty at not being able to focus or work on anything, and that compounded of course. Topped off by watching the last couple episodes of Babylon 5 with Hearthsnail last night, and those last couple episodes being very sad. So that didn’t help either of us. I was too angry to go to bed, so he ended up napping on my back while I did some coloring for a while until I’d blown myself out. Then sleep.

Sigh. Fun things. Then my dreams were full of all kinds of unnecessarily just shitty things. Like going to get a pair of contact lenses, actually grabbing and opening two buds for each eye (I wear dailies), and then realizing that not only had I wasted one pair, I’d wasted both because I didn’t actually need contact lenses. It was just unnecessarily shitty, and I think the whole night was like that. That, and there have been some recurring themes in my dreams every night this week that I don’t appreciate either. Maybe I���ll get there, maybe I won’t - we’ll move on.

Today was on the up again. I decided early in the morning during a period of half-awake that I was not going to try to make myself work today, and just let what would be, would be. See if that got me out of the rut, since pushing certainly didn’t. The rest of the day was fairly nice, sans a low point in the evening. We took a short walk between Hearthsnail’s office hours and my writing group; it was a very nice day out. Sunny, and warm, and not quite springlike but there were more smells than you typically get in winter. I ended up talking most of the time, which is somewhat of a reversal - usually Hearthsnail’s the rambly one - and that was nice too. Got home, showered real quick, and made it to the table just in time for the writing group.

Writing went well again. I did another one of those concept writing pieces for a story I’d been considering writing; it was a follow-up scene to the one I’d written Wednesday, and did a lot to flesh out parts of the magic system and world details but especially character details. It’s been ages since I’ve written real dialogue, and it was intimidating at first, but it turned out well. Surprise surprise, every character there is a shitter to a one. Then again, with a group of mercenaries/bounty hunters, what do you expect? Anyway - I didn’t finish the scene, which gives me something to go back to next time. I did eventually peter out, so that’s all right. It’s been... nice. The writing still doesn’t quite feel like it used to and doesn’t feel like it’s all the way back yet, but in a purely functional way there’s actual writing going on, so that’s immense progress all on its own. 

Went from writing to starting dinner, because I was making twice-baked potatoes and the potatoes have to bake in the oven for an hour before you can do the rest of it. In the midst of doing that, Hearthsnail hopped on a chat with his sister and brother-in-law and we ended up playing Betrayal on Tabletop Simulator (which we’ve been using a lot the last week or so). They had a version that had been reskinned as a D&D adventure, so we tried that and that was a lot of fun. That and I just like the Betrayal games, so that’s always fun. Had my low point in there somewhere, but recovered well enough. Something about various stressors simmering up at roughly the same time in a quiet moment and needing to be soothed back down.

Had work to do after that - all the bimonthly copy-past-format work that I’ve been doing for Hearthsnail’s union. Turns out that last time I did it, none of the links worked - learning that was one of those stressors I mentioned - so I spent some time trying to figure out what went wrong. So far, best guess is it has something to do with the way that everything copied and pasted rather than my links not working, but we’ll see. Finished the format work (with a small gap in the middle because my focus is still a bit garbage even if it’s recovering), then went on to writing an email.

Email was about some fire-ecology-oriented volunteer work being asked for at one of the local state parks. The vast majority of the things they listed were things I could do, and I sort of just... decided, fuck it. Why not. Sending the email was simple enough, and now I'm just waiting to hear back. Between the union work and that, I felt a bit better about things afterwards. It’s been hard not having “real” work this whole year and feeling like I'm not contributing enough to the household. I feel guilty about Hearthsnail working so hard while I just... sit around and do nothing? Play some Animal Crossing, maybe, and wash a dish or two every once in a while? I know it’s more than that, and that I do more than that, it just doesn’t feel like it most of the time. It doesn’t feel like most of what I do is worthwhile, and I worry sometimes that I’m becoming too used to not needing to do anything. That’s its own thing, though, and has as much to do with self-worth issues as it does with anything else.

Anyway, nudging at those things felt good. And I suppose there’s the potential on the latter that it might hook me into a paid job somewhere down the line, if I stick around. Oh - there’s also a city council position that needs filling, and I briefly amused myself with the possibility of applying to run for that. Opted not to largely due to the aforementioned self-worth issues - still have a lot of work to do on that front - but also because I’d like to have been listening in to more city council meetings here than I have been. Mostly the meetings I tune into are for the city up north, because those have to do with Hearthsnail’s job. Maybe another time.

That’s mostly been today. I nudged a bit at working on prep for tomorrow’s town hall, mostly because it needed doing and I haven’t yet. Got some things sorted, anyway, even if there’s more to do. Hearthsnail went to bed, though, and this is more important. So now I’m here.

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

Now to see if I can make headway on any other processing. 

...

...That I immediately got up to collect the coloring book and continue coloring again tells me that it’s not ready to happen this night. 

Besides, it’s 3AM, and I ought to head bedwise sooner rather than later. Maybe make it up in time to finish town hall prep before it’s time to run. Goodnight, world. Watch again another night.

[hyperionswrath--archived]

@onepartbrave

If there was one thing that had finally gotten through Squall’s head that night, it was that Seifer genuinely seemed not angry with him. Despite the fiasco the previous night, despite the unwarranted trip down memory lane, despite his frosty nature that had only warmed due to inhaling too much drink. The blond was still amicable, considerate and bizarrely accepting of all Squall’s current problems and flaws digging out of the technical woodwork. Yeah, he’d just been called a constant pain in the ass but the tone infusing the words suggested nothing but camaraderie backing them. No vexation. No resentment. Just… comity.

Those facts eased a huge chunk of Squall’s stress away. Shoulders sagging slightly from the sudden weightless feel of being almost tension free, he pondered on what that implied next. Would they become friends, if only for the drunken night? Even if they weren’t, his unspoken trust in Seifer was starting to show. Considering over the last month alone, he’d allowed none to come near him, let alone take his hand. Here the man had held his numerous times and Squall hadn’t even decked him for touching—

No. Nope, we’re not going there. It was an accident, don’t overthink this for Hyne’s sake.

Eyebrows lowering into yet another frown, this time directed at his inner thoughts, Squall successfully banished them to the recesses of his mind and concentrated on the now. Like—how close the blond was. Sitting next to him, he predicted if he shifted his left knee a smidgen, it’d bump Seifer’s. Why was he so close? When had he gotten so? Had he really been so deep in thought he completely missed what occurred in reality?

Swallowing down what felt like a knot of trepidation forming in his throat, it feeling less ‘bad’ anxious and more ‘puzzled’ anxious, the entire night was becoming a far cry from the picture he’d had in mind. Previously, he thought they’d drink, eat, sass each other and retire to not see one another again. Now… they were still here, still hanging out, and had plans for tomorrow. I—I’m… Unable to finish the thought, he relaxed back against the rear of the seat, frown softening.

Should he feel uncomfortable? It wasn’t like they hadn’t had close proximity before; sparring ensured that, but this was different, new. New worried him but for a reason that consistently eluded him. True clarity was becoming a drawn-out battle and he’d always been better at the quick-paced, adrenaline fuelled altercations instead of a marathon skirmish. Sighing softly, he allowed his head to loll back against the squishy, warm backrest. …That shouldn’t be warm since they’d vacated their seat. Not daring to turn his head obviously, while Seifer made short work of ordering their water and some bread, he flicked a sneaky glance behind him—to see the blond’s arm present. Almost… around him?

Wha…?

Comprehension fleeting, Squall’s head turned to face forward and, with dawning realisation of horror, felt his face heighten a few degrees in natural warmth. He was blushing like a goddamned idiot and there was no way Seifer’s perceptive glare wouldn’t pick up on it. Shit. What’d I do? Do I leave? Move? Shove him away? Stay still and pretend I don’t know? Fuck—

Inherent ranting cut short by Seifer’s slurred baritone registering. Embarrassingly, clouded grey-blues shot up to try and meet vibrant greens. His mission failed as Seifer was busy thanking the waitress and looking all weird in the dim lighting and— Oh my god, I will stab myself if it makes me stop thinking.

“I—what?” he asked feebly, missing the man’s question entirely as his whirlwind of a mind had been occupied. With him. Ugh. “The… bread? Wa’ that it? S’good lookin’.”

Zipping an imaginary line over his dumb mouth, Squall sat slightly more forward and reached for the aforementioned bread. Breaking a piece off, he guided it to his mouth and took a generous bite out of it. Instant gratification overcame his tastebuds and (finally) his conscience silenced to appreciate the tasty morsel. Swallowing the bite after chewing, he quietly confessed, “Damn, t’is good,” before resuming his previous task, albeit with more enthusiasm.

When finished that portion, Squall grabbed a whole other small loaf to nibble on, mindful there was enough left for Seifer. His worries were amiss as many more little loaves remained. Satisfied with his finding, he shimmied back in his seat, and, in his blissful state of mind of not worrying, all caution was thrown to the wind. Reclining back as he went, he instinctively pressed closer to the searing warmth on his left side, relaxing honestly for the first time in weeks. While he worked on consuming his latest bready goodness, he observed the pub settings with muted interest, wholly uncaring he was essentially using Seifer as a leaning post.

…Warm.

Truth be told, there was an ever-burning fury somewhere deep inside of the tall blond, constantly burning and eating away at him. It had been there his whole life but had started blazing higher, burning fiercer during and after the war. Yet it wasn't directed at Squall. Not anymore, at least. While he had been the Sorceresses Knight, there was wrath in his every fiber, not his own entirely, clouding his mind and judgment. After the war, there had been seething anger about the fact that Squall had not only bested him inside the Lunatic Pandora, but also left him there to die. But that grudge wasn't upheld for long, for once he was able to reflect on everything that had transpired, the act seemed more than plausible. There hadn't been much humanity left in him when the witch pulled his strings and made him believe sacrificing Rinoa would be the right thing to do. The only right thing.

So, no, he harbored no ill feelings for the man anymore who in his mind had far more reason and justification to hate him instead. But so far, except for their first encounter the night before, there seemed to be no ill-feeling at all between them and it felt both odd and relieving. Seifer had carried the shame, guilt and self-loathing with him for so many years, he would have never expected to be treated as friendly as he had been, all things considered. Sure, Squall was still his old self in some ways, but there were also other sides to him he had allowed the blond to see and for all that he knew, they were good changes.

What exactly all of this between them meant, he dared not think about. Granted, he had always been a man of action first, thoughts second, and right now he was willing to just let things happen as they did, not question anything. And if they never saw each other again after tonight (well, there were already plans in place for the next day though), then so be it. Still, a small voice in the back of his head dared to hope that this was a way to redeem himself, if only a little. Maybe that, too, was the reason he felt so protective of the younger one?

Happily chewing on his spoil, namely the goodness that was the potato wedges, thoughtful eyes following the retreating waitress, he only paused when he felt a slight bump against his right arm, making him glance to the side. The look on Squall's face was enough to make the tall blond chuckle lightly, pulling in his lower lip to bite on it though unable to completely wipe the grin from his face. He'd be a liar if he'd claim he didn't push the boundaries between them right now, and much against his better judgment too. What about the whole 'I can never touch him' vow he had taken? But then again, the reaction this small brush of head against arm had caused was entertaining enough to throw at least part of that determination out the window. After all, he was still the smug shit of the town, right?

Even more intriguing, however, was the observation he now made. Squall blushed. And not just a bit. Most interesting. He'd probably be pushing his luck by now but before he could even stop himself, his hand had shifted just so, allowing his thumb to briefly flick over the now heated skin of Squall's neck, brushing at the soft brown strands there. Dangerous as this game may be, he had to admit it thrilled him, and whatever was able to do that to him usually flicked the switch of being reasonable (well, as much as he was able to, anyway), and just go all in. And right now, he was most curious what kind of reactions he could provoke and, most importantly, how much deeper this blush could get.

Apparently, it was enough to distract the brunet from what he had asked, flustering the guy enough to give some entirely unrelated answer which only served to tug on Seifer's lips more, creating a lopsided smirk. "Very." he hummed in agreement, not even sparing the damn bread one single glance. Willing to let his teasing of an entirely different kind go for the time being, he busied himself with his water, glad for the chance to help to mellow his drunken state a little. He wanted his attention on full alert right now. Also, Squall was well advised to eat that much bread to help him along with the amount of alcohol in his system. It wouldn't magically sober him up but at least help a little, which had been the plan when he ordered it. On top of that, for some reason watching the other eat had some kind of fascinating appeal all of a sudden?

Emptying his glass, he placed it back on the table, releasing Squall from his observing stare as he leaned forward to snatch his own small loaf, chewing slowly while he mulled over the entirely unexpected development of events right there. More so even when he felt the smaller body sink against him, leaning on him. Looking down at the brown tuft of hair he hummed, half astonished, half content because he'd be damned if this hadn't been one of his ultimate teenage fantasies. Well, among others, but he'd be content to have this to remember in the future. Lingering in his position, his arm on the backrest still, he swallowed hard against a lump in his throat. Not the kind he had noticed a while ago when dark memories started rushing in. This was different. Better. "You good?", he heard himself murmur and only then noticed that somehow, he had leaned down, the tip of his nose not far away from brown hair, close enough that he could breathe the other in. Shit, what exactly was he even thinking here? Was he thinking at all?

[ali-lie]

SuperPotterCorp Part4

Summary & Warning : The SG x HP fic no one asked for yet I’m posting. It’s pretty bad not to mention NSFW with lots of triggers and potential triggers like violence abuse and mention of all forms of assault. also starts off between season 3 and four Lena knows about Kara  (obviously) [also agentreign] with the Bloody Brandy challenge. 

Before the discussion could proceed any further they were interrupted by a series of hisses and dings in the direction from which Harry had appeared, that would be kitchen, suddenly all of Harry’s children plus Buffy cheered loudly and ran towards the kitchen, while Harry had a small smile on her face as she saw her kids rush towards the kitchen, She turned towards the super friends and said, “It is time for dinner, I suppose we can continue this discussion later on.”

As she said that and the superfriends began to nod Kara super sped to the kitchen in a demonstration of how much she agreed on the opinion that the discussion about their life can be shelved when compared with food.

Harry and the superfriends followed her at a much sedate pace, as they entered the kitchen the super friends saw it had a hard wood floor and the walls were a mix of tiles and different shades of paints in stripes like magenta and maroon there were several different pots on the stove and there was an oven which was indicating that it was done preparing whatever was inside it, they spotted a huge polished mahogany table that looked quite Victorian, except it didn’t have any legs to keep it off floor and was simply floating mid air, they chalked it up to magic having seen far too much weird to be fazed by something so simple, but there was a distinct lack of any seating.

Harry simply started washing her hands, while the superfriends were standing awkwardly due to not knowing what to do, as soon as she was finished Harry gave her children a look and they all groaned and rushed to wash their hands, seeing the baffled look among the superfriends she explained, “Sorry, it’s a small discipline trick I’ve used since forever, the kitchen is enchanted so that nor food nor chairs will appear until all occupants have washed their hands, so iif you will please..” she ended giving them a look.

Sam let out a whistle and said, “That’s damn great! if only I could get something like that at my place..” she ended giving the former a pleading look.

The aforementioned witch threw back her head and laughed, looking at the brunette with a twinkle in her eyes she replied, “We’ll see.”

As soon as Winn - who was the last - washed his hands there was a soft pop and all the food flew from the stove and the oven - which was a lot more than they assumed at first - and set itself on the table like a royal feast, and belatedly the noticed the chairs fitting snugly along the table as if they were always there.

As they sat down Dandy and Buffy closed their eyes and clasped their hands to start praying, meanwhile rest of the Potter family simply sat with a patient calm, looking at the puzzled faces of superfriends Harry said, “both of them like to pray, Buffy being a christian to Yeshua while Dandy believes in Mothers Magic and Earth hence prays to Gaia and Freyja, I mean it when I say you need not wait and may start eating”.

Speaking for all of them John said, “We’ll prefer to wait.”

Giving him a nod of understanding she glanced at Kara and Lena, the former had closed her eyes too and was praying, to whatever deity she believed in though she highly doubted it was the popular guy in sandals who died for everyone’s sins, that led to her snorting, she had to stop watching so much Supernatural, and then she looked at Lena who was looking at Kara as if she was her god – or goddess in this case – the sheer peace on the former-Luthor’s face was not unlike that of a nun or priestess, had they never met her she wouldn’t have cursed them with her misfortune, and they would’ve had a fairytale romance, she wondered how many would she lead to their doom, her parents, Sirius, Ginny, and….she was snapped out of her grim thoughts by having her eldest daughter flicking hard on her forehead.

Macaria had a deadpan expression on her face as she said, “Hey! You still have guests here wander off to your doomdom afterwards”.

A small yet genuine smile formed on her face as she stared at her eldest daughter and replied, “Doomdom, really? Of all of our inside jokes you had to take up that one?”

The Superfriends politely reigned in their curiosity, and tried to look like they hadn’t been paying attention to the mother-daughter’s antics, except Brainy who had been silenced by John when it looked like he was going to say something quite probably rude.

As the dinner progressed peacefully, the superfriends realized something, there was a lot of food, even by their standards and the small family of five had been devouring the lion’s share of it, actually it was only the three siblings eating more than Kara did at dinner, which was saying something, at first they thought it must’ve been because of their magical heritage but given how little Harry was consuming that didn’t make a lot of sense, after figuring out that this wasn’t a trap they had been trying not to offend the good reality warping lady, unfortunately for the lot of them Winn forgot that little detail as he put this whole leg in his mouth commenting, “Wow! You guys must be eating out a restaurant in a single day!”

The Potter siblings reacted in varied manner at the DEO tech genii in accordance to their age by Slightly Smiling (Macaria), giving him a deadpan (Dandy), and frowning at him (Casper), Buffy looked like she was about to pounce across the table and strangle the man with her bare hands, and had a flat expression as she stared at the offending man and offered just two words, “Excuse me?” those two words were spoken quite softly but were all the more frigid, gone was the friendly atmosphere she had till now.

Before anyone else could say anything Winn began explaining himself, much to his friends worry, “No, No, I didn’t meant to offend anyone of you and I’m really sorry for that, it’s just that when Kara uses her powers she requires a huge calorie intake to maintain her strength and I was wondering if something along the same vein applied when it came to your abilities…”

As he trailed off his defense Harry took a deep breath but before she could say anything Dandy stalled her, “Mum calm down, he didn’t mean anything by what he said; we’ve heard it when people are being rude and he wasn’t.”

Harry frowned and yet again took a deep breath and got up from her seat to promptly leave the room after muttering an “Excuse me”.

The atmosphere instantly became quite awkward, at least till Mac took it upon herself to explain her mother’s reaction, “Don’t worry she’ll be back soon enough, our lifestyle especially food and clothing are a bit of a touchy subject for her, after all there was once a time when she arrived here with three children and no money or resources to her aid, all she had was her will power, so she take offence quite easily when anyone even accidentally implies anything negative with regards to us”.

All of them gave a nod of understanding at that and Winn grimaced at that feeling quite guilty by now, while both Sam and John understood where Harry was coming from.

A/n Hello nice to meet all of you! Sorry for the late update to any and all who’s reading this, work just started back again, and we’re understaffed at the moment due to social distancing so writing got side tracked. Hope all of you are safe and happy.

[itmeansvictory]

❝ She did not need much, wanted very little. A kind word, sincerity, fresh air, clean water, a garden, kisses, books to read, sheltering arms, a cozy bed, and to love and be loved in return. ❞

BRIE LARSON? No, that’s actually VICTOIRE WEASLEY. Only TWENTY SIX years old, this HUFFLEPUFF alumni works as an CURSE-BREAKER and is sided with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX. SHE identifies as CIS FEMALE and is a HALFBLOOD ( ONE EIGTH VEELA ) who is known to be OVERPROTECTIVE, STUBBORN, and SELF-DEPRECATING but also CONSCIENTIOUS, NURTURING, and PRAGMATIC. { r, 27, mst, she/her/hers }

GENERAL

FULL NAME: Victoire Apolline Weasley NICKNAME(S): Vic, V, Tori, Tor AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 26, 05/02/1997 OCCUPATION: Independently Contracted Curse-Breaker GENDER: Cis Female PRONOUNS: She/Her HOMETOWN: Tinworth, Cornwall, England CURRENT RESIDENCE: London, England POSITIVE TRAITS: Conscientious, Nurturing, Pragmatic, Loyal NEGATIVE TRAITS: Stubborn, Self-Deprecating, Overprotective, Moody

BIOGRAPHY

victoire apolline weasley - though you may know her as a number of monikers: blonde weasley, curse-breaking milf, mom friend™, whatever. she’s the eldest weasley cousin, part-veela, a mother, and yes she is a natural blonde. these are often the defining characteristics she is known by, but there’s a lot more than meets the eye.

born on may 2nd, 1997, almost two years after the fateful tri-wizard tournament where voldemort was defeated “once and for all”, she is the first child born to bill weasley and beauxbatons champion fleur delacour. the first of her generation; hers was a charmed childhood, only made more exciting by the arrival of two siblings and many cousins. seeing as she was older than most of them by a handful of years, victoire became somewhat of a “babysitter” for the family. she spent most of her formative years running after younger weasley-potters, patching up scrapes and kissing bruises as well as diffusing tense situations. from an early age she just naturally took on the role of “mom” among her social groups, the nurturing tendencies carry on even to her hogwarts years where her friends often teased her for being so overprotective of them and “babying” them.

at hogwarts she was sorted into hufflepuff - the first of her family to not be a gryffindor much to the changrin of several of her family members. while the hat had debated between the two houses, it was ultimately the pragmatic and sensible nature of the girl that lead her to being placed among the badgers. this turned out to be best suited to her traits. victoire’s easy going youth lead to her being soft and gentle but also incredibly empathetic and warm. aside from being the aforementioned “mom friend”, she was basically the poster child for hufflepuff - being dutiful, hard-working, trustworthy, loyal and fair. the one “weasley trait” that followed her was a deep love for quidditch, being a beater for the house team for a few years. but her true loves had been herbology, history of magic and charms; the girl spending most of her days studying old textbooks, hanging around the greenhouse, or learning new charms to advance her abilities.

due to a studious nature, she was usually in the favor of her professors and hadn’t found herself in detention like many of her family members might have. it was for this reason she was chosen as a prefect during her latter years, and head girl her seventh. she was responsible and organized in comparison to most of her peers, and actually took pride in being a role model. a side effect of being the oldest in her family - there were always eyes on her and victoire wanted to live up to their expectations.

following school, it was of little surprise when she announced she would be a curse-breaker in training under her father’s tutelage. she possessed much of her father’s qualities - she was an academic achiever as well as laid back in nature, while still managing to be serious when necessary. as a child she was a daddy’s girl and had a very keen interest in bill’s occupation. she used to pretend she was a curse-breaker, "disabling” curses and jinxes on teddy bears and various odd objects throughout the house. so when it came time to take her NEWT level classes, she made sure to structure her schedule around what classes would help her become a successful curse-breaker. it was a thrilling and adventure-filled career path, but her time with gringott’s would only last a few years before she opted to be an “independently contracted curse-breaker” - a choice made in order to continue the work she loved while being a single parent with full custody of her child.

before she began her apprenticeship, victoire spent the summer holiday after her seventh year in france with relatives. despite her claims she would come back “still very much the same victoire” the girl had returned from holiday a very different woman - a married one, actually. hardly one to make rash decisions, it was a shock to hear that after just four weeks of courtship victoire had married a beauxbatons alum she’d met while touring the french riviera. much of the family was opposed to the union, but victoire swore that she was happy and it was meant to be - and for a while that was true.

it turned into a tumultuous affair and would last all of four years before the ill-suited pair would inevitably call it quits - an embarrassing fact considering how adamant she had been that their love was “real” and that it would “work out just fine”. it turned out over time that the two were not exactly suitable and wanted very different things. for one, he wanted to live in france while victoire wanted to stay near her family in england. the only complication left after the marriage was a child that neither had originally planned for - a little girl named amélie whom victoire has full custody of. now her trips to france - via portkey every other weekend - are begrudgingly made in order to allow their daughter time to stay with her father, with whom she has remained (or has tried to remain) amicable and civil despite how poorly the relationship ended.

these days victoire is hardly around. contracted with many independent buyers and sellers of magical antiques and the like, the woman travels across the wizarding world in order to acquire such objects and to reverse whatever hexes have been placed on them as security measures. it’s become harder to balance this job with raising a child, and as such has made her home base in the UK in order to receive the support from her family. she was away on such trips when things began to escalate back home and has since taken on less jobs and has been spending more time in london and close to her relatives during what feels like the return of dark times.

joining the reinstated order of phoenix, victoire is at war with the impending fight. the young woman isn’t too eager to be part of another wizarding war. a little bit of a pacifist, victoire just wants to see a happy future again. having a young child, and seeing the aftereffects of her uncle’s death on his family, makes her worried to put herself in a position where she will no longer be able to take care of amelie. but she also knows that it is up to the order to put an end to the death eaters once and for all - choosing to ultimate put herself in harms way in order to make sure her daughter gets to grow in a safe and happy world like she herself did.

tbh i’ll probably be editing this as i go along.

MISC

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heteromantic LANGUAGES: English, French, Gobbledegook, Some German, Spanish and Chinese FAMILY: Bill Weasley (father), Fleur Weasley née Delacour (mother), Dominique Weasley (sister), Louis Weasley (brother), Amélie Weasley-Dufour (daughter), Bastien Dufour (ex-husband) PETS: Barn Owl named Athena, Kneazle named Pyewacket ZODIAC SIGN: Taurus MBTI: ISFJ AESTHETIC: black coffee forgotten and cooled to room temperature; books and files piled up on every surface; scuffed up doc marten’s, cracked brown leather jackets, vintage band tees; makeup-less face and messy buns; chipped black nail polish; teeth marks running along her wand; reading glasses sitting on the button of her nose, a finger shaped smudge on the right lens; world map with assorted pins and thread connecting cities across the globe; bleached shells, creased postcards, and faded photographs in a trinket box long forgotten in the far corner of the closet; freckles that only come out with the sun, sideways smirks and a mischievous twinkle in dark chocolate eyes; the cry of seagulls and the salty sea breeze; pressed flowers in leather bound notebooks lying e v e r y w h e r e, blue ink stains on hands; trinkets and odd little souvenirs from various countries and cities on every desk; finger paintings and crayon drawings with ‘i love mummy’ in the corners; bottomless bag with everything a mom ever needs; nights spent alone and welcoming the solitude

WANTED CONNECTIONS

THE SCHOOL FRIENDS (2) - a couple fellow hogwarts alums who would have attended at the same time as victoire, they have remained close friends since leaving school and regularly meet up for drinks and to catch up and reminisce. they are hufflepuffs and have their own trio kind of like harry/ron/hermione. bonus points if one is a death eater, 1/2 taken

THE RIVAL - a fellow curse-breaker or someone from victoire’s youth who she has never seen eye to eye with. perhaps its because of opposing ideals, a dislike for the weasley-potter family or whatever petty reason - these two just don’t get along and are constantly butting heads. bonus points for being rivals in the curse-breaking field, open

THE EX - self explanatory; victoire’s ex-husband and the father of her daughter. this is not meant to be a romantic connection. they weren’t very well suited for each other and instead insist upon being civil and amiable for the sake of their daughter. is french/a beauxbatons alumni and would be newly arrived in britain should you take up this role, npc

tbh i’m really bad at these; just hmu and we can brainstorm afheahpfieaihfeiafpieafea

[bloodawakening]

                     DANTE SCAR SHEET (DO NOT REBLOG!!)

Dante does not heal nor scar like a normal person. He cannot scar REGARDLESS of the ordeal he puts his body through. Because of this, Dante has fully convinced himself he cannot scar under any circumstances, however, this couldn’t be further from the truth. He's simply unaware that he does have ‘ scars ‘ …just not what you'd consider ordinary scars.

What cannot scar  him?

Normal human weaponry and items. They do still inflict damage on Dante but he will heal from these wounds sustained by normal everyday weaponry and items within a matter of seconds or minutes ( there and then gone the next. )  Dante can however become more susceptible to normal everyday weaponry and items when he’s weak / worn down ( as his regeneration will slow down and become less accelerated. )   Thereby, depending on the severity of the wound and Dante’s current state will correlate with how long it’ll take for the wound to heal ( it instead, could possibly take hours, days or in extreme scenarios, weeks. His healing gradually becomes more akin to a normal humans turn-around. ) As he recuperates however, his recovery will naturally speed up ( as his regeneration  functions more like it should. ) 

Enchanted ( magically enhanced ) / blessed weaponry and items. Dante can be much more susceptible to enchanted / blessed weapons as they are more damage-inducing and thereby cause more severe pain, take longer for Dante to regenerate from and wear Dante down more easily. They can leave more evident and ( temporarily ) longer lasting visible marks but cannot permanently scar.

Human hands do not have the prowess to scar Dante  unless they specifically use enchanted or demonic means to increase their odds of doing so. Dante does very much still register the pain sustained  from the aforementioned items and weaponry since he does have  a ‘ mortal body ‘ compared to that of an actual demon. 

What can scar him?

Demonic weaponry (e.g. devil arms ) / energy. Wounds sustained by the hands of a demon itself ( as well as demonic items / artefacts ) also have the high potential ( compared to normal and enchanted / blessed weaponry and items ) to leave a permanent scar but this is a case by case basis ( E.g. If a demon clawed at Dante. A scratch is nothing but tearing out his side? Yeah that’s  more likely to leave a mark. )

Dante has a higher probability of sustaining permanent scars the higher levelled and powerful a demon is then with low levelled grunt demons unless they manage to hit really really hard.

Instead of scarring like an ordinary human, when Dante is scarred an ‘imprint ‘ of a scar is left in place of where the wound was albeit, now healed. One cannot touch nor feel the ‘ scar imprint ‘ under normal circumstances as it lacks the quality and physicality of a normal scar ( no scar tissue and thereby lacking the texture and appearance of a scar. ) This is due to the nature of Dante’s regeneration - his body and thereby skin,  reverts back to it’s original state prior to the sustained imperfections. The area of the imprinted scar however can still equate to that of a normal scar ;-  as such, scarred areas may be much more stiff / sensitive compared to areas of Dante’s body that aren’t scarred.

If one can sense demonic energy then they they can ‘ sense ‘ where the scars are situated on Dante’s body. If one is able to ‘ see ‘ demonic energy then the imprint scars become visible. Being able to sense or see the scars will be dependant on ones affinity for sensing or seeing demonic energy ( e.g. needing to focus or use an extensive amount of demonic energy to see them. You have to work to notice them on a conscious level. ) The scars may also become visible  under specific scenarios ( e.g. becoming visible in the demon world. )  The imprinted scars have a faint glow to their outline ;- they function similar to invisible ink ( or glow in the dark paint ) ;- only being visible under specific conditions.

If you can do either ( or both ) then it becomes possible to feel the scars. Think of it like feeling the heat from a heater - it’s like that when you run or hover your hand over the scars. Though they do not have any real texture or physicality to them, they have a ghostly other-worldly impression to them. You can faintly feel a thin raised groove or indentation in Dante’s body dependant on the scar imprint ( compared to feeling evident scar tissue that is either raised or left an indentation on a normal human body. ) 

Full blooded humans cannot see, sense nor feel the imprinted scars in anyway. The ONLY exception I can think of is if ;- the human drabbles in magic, has a natural affinity for sensing demon kind or uses demonic power themselves in some way ( e.g. V would be able to see / sense the scars. )  However it will not come as easily to them compared to full blooded demons / someone with demonic heritage and artificial demons.

Dante has  basically tricked his mind into not registering the imprinted scars even if he himself could sense them as he firmly believes he cannot scar. And will basically not believe anyone no matter what if they bring it up to him. This is why for all intents and purposes, Dante doesn’t become aware of his scarring until  later on ( e.g. when he’s much more accepting of his demonic heritage. )

[thempoetry]

“There Are More Beautiful Things Than Beyoncé” by Morgan Parker

This book had been years coming in my collection. Its name rang out inside me when I felt its titular sentiment — that the popular worship of Beyoncé is overblown — and whenever I thought of it, I felt a spark of solidarity.

Of course, this is not a book about Beyoncé — and in fact, this is not even a book that is very critical of Beyoncé. Instead, Beyoncé acts as a literary device throughout — a mouthpiece, an amulet, a proto-idea that shapeshifts to meet Parker’s endless need to talk, sing and moan about race, class, democracy, depression, music and drugs. It’s a brilliant move.

I’d like to start more broadly by commenting on Morgan Parker, because she strikes me as an outsider among insiders. In my head, Parker is of the generation of contemporary poets that includes Danez Smith, Franny Choi, Ocean Vuong etc. … she’s decorated with a Pushcart, she co-curates a reading series, she performs with Angel Nafis as part of The Other Black Girl Collective. Her poetic career is bedazzlingly active — so why don’t we talk about her more?

By which I mean: there seems to be a kind of halo around young poets like Ocean Vuong, who — and I say this with admittedly limited experience of his work — turn the harrowing vine-tangle of identity into a kind of rhapsodic experience: a thing worth looking at because it is beautiful. (Here is an example, from Vuong’s “Tell Me Something Good”:

Snow on your lips like a salted

cut, you leap between your deaths, black as a god’s periods. Your arms cleaving little wounds

in the wind. You are something made… )

There’s no arguing that Vuong’s poem is beautiful; my issue is with how the beauty is used. Vuong’s poem here seems an extension of the (frankly depressing and oppressive) idea that “foreigners” can make their stories worthy through pathos, pity and craft — i.e., hard work and relatability. If the sentiment sounds familiar, just tune into the way mainstream conservatives these days talk about immigrants: I don’t have a problem with immigrants writ large, I just prefer immigrants who work hard, keep their heads down, are pleasant to my children, are generally agreeable…

Anyway, it’s not fair for me to pass such a blanket judgement over Ocean Vuong’s work, and that’s for another review. But insofar as Morgan Parker is concerned, she parses the work and space of otherness in an entirely different manner. Similar to Claudia Rankine of Don’t Let Me Be Lonely, her argument is this: I won’t “fix” myself for you. I won’t try to make myself beautiful. I will tell the (magical, insatiable) truth as it is, and you will have to try to keep up. Because I am too tired to bow down, to construct something for you, to micro-manage. Parker’s poems are for haters of micro-management; they offer big gestures in small bottles.

Consider the opening lines of the opening poem, “All They Want Is My Money My Pussy My Blood”:

I am free with the following conditions.

Give it up gimme gimme.

Okay so I’m Black in America right and I walk into a bar.

With this bold opening, Parker’s commitments are clear: she will demand things of the reader (“give it up gimme gimme”) and she will clearly demarcate what commands her attention and respect (“I’m Black in America right”). And with this begins what I can only describe as a chimeric collection, more warm-blooded fantasy animal than diorama; more occult message written in glitter than typeset monolith. She scrounges from jazz, RnB and pop to fill her pauses. She is unrelentingly new instead of subtle. I like it:

I am a dreamer with empty hands and I like the chill. I will not be attending the party tonight, because I am microwaving multiple Lean Cuisines and watching Wife Swap… (“Another Another Autumn in New York”)

—and the sincerity of her materials shine through. (To continue this silly dogfight I’ve set up, compare the above with Vuong: “Air of whiskey and crushed / Oreos.” Parker’s allusion to pop culture delights; Vuong’s seems like an add-on, a sprinkling of something inappropriate on top).

But wherefore is the source of all this magic? I would say in what Sun Ra called “liquidity.” For example: Parker was best when R and I read her aloud on a grassy slope on Belle Isle in Detroit. There we were, in a historically Black city, in what I can only describe as a “public paradise.” Ducks waddled by and folks of all stripes strolled in front of us beside a small man-made lake. As we read Parker aloud, we laughed with her and from within her work — as though her words gave us the ability to access our inner performers, delivering punchlines (“I don’t know / when I got so punk rock”) and casting personal spells (“I breathe / dried honeysuckle / and hope”). We felt for her. And we wanted to continue feeling for her. All things told I had a moment of genuine orality with her work — a glimpse of what poetry must have felt like when it was shared, sung and social by default. This is a book that radiates the energy of the collective, that asks you to recognize it — and does not over-demonstrate.

So, in this false dichotomy, one might pose:

LIQUIDITY: ORALITY, SOCIALITY, LONG STANZAS SHORT LINES

against

SOLIDITY: WRITTEN, INWARDNESS, SMALL FORMAL STANZAS LONG LINES

In the former, you have the world of most popular songs, particularly jazz; in the latter, you have sculpture and “high art.” Perhaps this is why Ocean Vuong’s work has garnered him endless praise and attention, and most of us look askance at Morgan Parker’s messiness, silliness and genuine emotional bravery. She rambles, yes, but her rambling challenges the very idea of boundaries — of “discipline” as a set of limits, of borders we set for ourselves, however beautiful.

Finally, I will say this, as it’s becoming a theme in my reviews. Parker’s poetry feels affectively liberated. She is funny as well as ashamed. Take, for instance, this amazing section of “RoboBeyoncé”:

The reason I was built is to outlast some terribly feminine sickness that is delivered to the blood through kale salad and pity and men with straight-haired girlfriends […] Nothing aches in here It’s a quiet, calculated shame

Part of the power in these lines is the fact that despite the sprawling, messy energy of Parker’s poems, formally they are incredibly demanding due to their short lines. Parker does not give herself the liberty of overusing the form that has, frankly, become a meme among young poets — the poem composed of long couplets, like Vuong’s poem above — and instead prefers her poems one long connective muscle. The result is propulsive and exciting, like watching a figure skater do tight turns on the ice. She is insightful but also — I dare say it — entertaining. But in the wry, dark way that comedians have that communicates, “Look, I don’t care if you don’t like me. Most of the time, I don’t like me either.”

Which is not to say that Parker’s work is perfect — like the aforementioned figure skater, she does often fall short of her ambitions and can write poems that don’t hold together — often using the couplet form above. I think her work is best when it acknowledges its liquid merits, and doesn’t try to stand with too much air around it.

Overall: 9/10 for sheer spillage of fantasy radioactive plasma

Read If You: -Think it’s lame that Beyoncé talks so much about her “rock” -Miss the energy of cities like Detroit -Have friends you want to read with and you are all getting tired of the bone-dry landscape of contemporary poetry which is really just about “passing” politics and making pain beautiful and omg what if pain is NOT beautiful what if it is just pain motherfuckers what if leaving the party is political too goddamn

Further Reading

Don’t Let Me Be Lonely by Claudia Rankine -- deep classic, prepared the soil for Parker

BONUS: Things To Do In Life That Are Not Poetry

Inspired by Morgan Parker, try:

1. Starting a flashy project then abandoning it on purpose 2. Making a cocktail after a song by a Black American musician 3. Getting in a tub of ice cold water and listening to Kendrick Lamar’s DAMN. while doing one’s nails without shivering

Feverish and anything but lonely, Michu

P.S. A last thought while in the shower. Morgan Parker’s poetry is relentlessly self-aware. But I think what we mean when we say “self-aware” is actually not “being aware of the self” but “being aware of everything but the self” -- i.e. seeing one’s pronouncements as part of a larger (in Parker’s case historical) context. When Parker sits down to multiple Lean Cuisines and Wife Swap, the irony she projects comes from a deep rootedness in the idea that this is a thing that people do: skip parties to self-indulge in everyday, consumerist ways that our higher selves disapprove of. It’s not that her sentiment or self-report is inauthentic, but rather that it is aromantic -- it doesn’t presume that her experience hits on some prized singularness about being human. And I like that; I find it smart and honest at the same time, which is a rare combination -- not just in poets, but in people.