#i have loved everything i've read from their catalogue so this is sad

[libraryleopard]

nooo not my best friend small beer press :(

[jariten]

MAY-JUNE 2024 ROUNDUP!

No intro as I've got nothing to say aside from, well everything I want to say about these titles so lets get to it

Baby Blue Heaven by Nao Tsutsumitani is the story of Shouko who had to take the place of her late mother in the household, meaning she is day in and day out doing thankless jobs for thankless people. Like her shut-in father who takes her presence for granted, and her runaway sister who suddenly reappears highly pregnant. At the brink of her sanity Shouko must make a decision between the comfort of her family members who refuse to take care of themselves, and freedom and agency for herself. While a short read that imo could've worked and been even more engaging long form (and it's messaging could've been even harsher!) I found its conclusion to be very effective. Not to mention I also find it very satisfying to experience works like this that allow women to reject the familial structures that they involuntarily have to participate in.

Ball and Chain is Minami Qta's most recent work and currently serialized on the website Shuro. Ball and Chain follows two different people. One is a middle aged housewife contemplating divorce from her husband who acts like she doesn't even exist. But how can she pursue divorce when she is unable to work to support herself after a bout of severe illness? The second is Kei, a gender nonconforming woman engaged to a man who becomes even less and less supportive as their wedding approaches. Feeling more conflict with who she is, as opposed to how she's perceived Kei questions her sexuality as well as gender identity. While I'm still only on the first volume I am so looking forward to reading the rest of this story. Kei's storyline I am especially looking forward to as Minami Qta are tapping into their own gender journey as a nonbinary person which they've been very open about on social media. Not to mention it made me really want to go back and explore their whole manga catalogue, yet another project I can't wait to get to! (soon?🥲)

I also finally got to read the works of Fumiko Okada. One of the very young breakout stars of Osamu Tezuka's manga magazine COM, and is several of my favorite manga artists' favorite manga artist. ODESSEY 1966-2005 compiles most her works from the COM era as well as some of her doujinshi work from the late 1960's. The way she played with not just style but also form and technique is to this day still no other comic read from anywhere really. I don't know how else to describe it other than the stories are unquestionably dreamlike but with a tangible form to them. While her legacy from COM is talked about by some like that of legends today, the rest of her career is rather sad. She unfortunately retired from manga very early, had a brief comeback in the late 1970's on the encouragement of Moto Hagio and her editor, but soon after put away her pen again. She attempted one more comeback in the 1990's but was this time actively discouraged from returning to manga when she was told by Keiko Takemiya that she no longer understood the industry. She then passed away in 2005 only 55 years old. Some of her one-shots I know have been scanlated here and there but I hope a collection like this become licensed in english in the near future esp as this collection excluded her comeback works.

Last I just want to highlight Kefuzo Kataku wo: Kasuga no Tsubone by Riyoko Ikeda. A fictionalized account of the life of Lady Kasuga no Tsubone who was a key figure in the Tokugawa Shogunate when she became the wetnurse of Iemitsu. I really liked how it had the time to tell a story that highlighted the tensions of a country moving from a period of constant war and conflict to a peaceful one and how the internal politics had to be navigated to keep this new government from immediately collapsing on itself. And I loved seeing that Ikeda can totally pull off a Japanese historical setting as well. The art is lush and detailed, we aren't spared on the grisly details either and went down way easier than other works made explicitly on commission as "learn history/litterature from manga" that I've read. (though in most of those cases the fault lies in me not having the basic education on Japanese history that high schoolers in Japan have gone through.)

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Hello Hello and the Happiest of Fridays!

I'm thrilled to have @shealwaysreads in the library today! I've followed her for a long time and am always delighted by her posts on my dash. She has excellent taste, and has picked an incredible fic to share with us. Without further ado, I'll let Bella take over!

I did a slightly ridiculous gasp and wiggle when the lovely @thedrarrylibrarian reached out to ask me to share a fic rec for their brilliant Happy Hour, and was beyond delighted to be chosen to open the new year with a story I loved. 

I haven’t actually been able to read much fic over the last year, except for short pieces, which has really crystallised for me how much I really do love short fic. The skill, choices, focus, and subtle characterisation that’s so necessary for a fantastic short read is intense, and I find myself endlessly full of admiration for writers who can take on that challenge and create something beautiful.

Contretemps by @moonflower-rose is one of those brilliant stories—written for @hd-erised it was the last fic I read in 2022 and it was everything I hoped for, so I thought it would be the perfect story to share with everyone to kick off 2023!

Contretemps by @moonflower-rose (8,488 words, rated T)

Draco Malfoy has been living like a model citizen. If only he could convince Potter.

In less than 10k Rosie manages to create such a full feeling world, with brilliant cameos from Ron and Hermione, brief but sharp and defined OCs, and a Pansy I adore beyond measure (a running theme in her work, do check out her back-catalogue and ready yourself for falling in love), along with a delicious Harry—dimpled, earnest, and transparent (or so Draco thinks), and a Draco pov that is positively sparkling (if slightly misguided).

Just the opening two lines shows you so much about Rosie’s deft world building, and fantastic sense of humour. By the third paragraph (full of brilliant characterisation) you are completely in-world, immersed in the tale she’s woven, and ready to be delighted.

I sat and highlighted a ream of quotes from the fic, and then realised I was essentially sharing every single bit of it. So I’ve given myself a stern talking to and settled on just one, which made me laugh out loud and captures perfectly Draco and Harry’s dynamic at the beginning of the fic:

“Draco imagined wrapping his fingers around Potter’s throat. Sometimes he even imagined strangling him. Sometimes.”

Draco’s perspective, and Harry’s characterisation, make the misunderstanding and miscommunication work so perfectly, so believably, that along with the urge to give them both a gentle slap I also found myself grinning away while they fumbled. 

Rosie’s fics always leave me bone-deep satisfied. She has that innate talent and well-honed skill to spin a world full of characters that feel so real you could reach out and hug them, and to guide you gently along emotional journeys to a resolution that leaves your heart warm and light every time. Short, or long, her stories are rich and generous, full of subtly crafted details that build a world (Contretemps is full of these—Hermione’s recent laws, Draco’s pirating choices, the queue outside Harry’s office) and even moments of sadness are leavened and balanced by the absolute gift she has for humour in her writing. 

Every fic of hers has made my day better, has lifted me up and set me on my way with a smile.

A special note: Rosie always undoes me with her food descriptions, and by undo I mean ‘wake up my appetite but ONLY AND SPECIFICALLY for what she has just laid down in words before me. I have once and will likely again actually gone and bought what she’s written about simply to sate my fic-induced hunger. If you’re anything like me you will find yourself reaching for a snack about halfway through this fic, and find yourself desperately wanting meringues and apricots.

I’ll stop myself there, before I spend the next thousand words singing the praises of this fic and @moonflower-rose’s writing, and hope that you all click the link and read Contretemps. I guarantee it will make your day if you do!

Thank you so much to @thedrarrylibrarian for inviting me to be a part of Happy Hour, and for all of your brilliant recs. As a Library Person™ it just brings me so much joy to be part of this project and the gift it is to the Drarry fandom. 

Happy 2023 everyone, I hope it’s a beautiful one, filled with fic and art! ❤️

Thank you once more, to @shealwaysreads for joining us today! Be sure to check out her own writing on her AO3!

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

[m1d-45]

" archons who lose their character, things they held dear falling to dust, their minds swallowed by the alternate and their separate realm of existence- OH WHAT If"

YOU SO REAL FOR THIS

you got pretty much exactly what I was trying to convey, I wanted the archons to lose their minds by praying/being near alternate creator and the children to be more susceptible/the first to fall in this apocalypse scenario

BUT ALSO THE SHIT U MENTIONED AT THE END, it's so good angst and sadness that I love. having people put there complete and utter trust in a lie and be corrupted by this incredibly horrific disgusting thing. that just keeps sucking away at them

but just how I love angst I love happy endings. so what about the reader descending down to teyvat? how would their presence respond to the cold darker place teyvat has turned into

but also if the reader couldn't escape their alternate in their reality, how would they go about surviving in teyvat? what would the alternate!archons do? what if the reader healed the broken spirits of the people? what if reader meets one of the archons and they just know, they know they've been played but that it's you who is their god

ooo just thoughts, let's just say I love this au, it has potential.

-🍄 (most of what I've been writing about isn't really in the Mandela catalogue I think, I'm mostly using it as a basis of my thought process so don't feel bad that you haven't seen it. I think where both pretty even on our understanding of the canonical Mandela catalogue, anyways ily take care)

mushroom welcome back my dear

as always, below the readmore :)

i’m reading this with the alternate!creator being readers alternate bc they’re the creator btw, so i imagine they’ve at least encountered one, even if they don’t remember it.

but alternate!archons meeting reader…

if we take that to mean the alternates of the archons, they both recognize you on sight and are either deathly afraid or insanely angry. you’re the one thing that can topple their empire, so they’re either afraid of you for it or pissed off at you. why would you ruin what they’ve built? can’t you see it’s perfect enough?

if we take that to mean corrupted archons being driven to the alternate!creator by their own twisted faith, then….. ough…

corrupted archons who don’t know why they feel so strongly for you, emotions they forgot they had resurfacing with a vengeance. they’re husks, empty shells of gods, puppets who don’t know anything but their ‘god’. their friends have left them and they don’t do anything without a given order, sitting in mental stasis until they’re called upon.

so you?

when you come in, and they feel, and they need, and they have urges and temptations and suddenly it’s as if they’re seeing color for the first time, the beautiful shade of your eyes drawing them back to a world they barely remember.

i can see it going two ways.

either the alternate’s hold on them forces their hand without their meaning to, and they have to watch as they destroy the one light in their life of shadow. their body is hateful when their mind is not, and they have to watch, stuck, as you run in fear, betrayal in your eyes.

or, they still have a semblance of control. they can hiss in a breath, reaching a hand for you, slowly and shaking as they reach, hand outstretched. the corruption within them hisses and seethes, yanking them back from the light, and the best they can do is repress the pull until you’re far enough away that they can scream.

they’re caught in a web they can’t control, strings pulling at their body and telling them to kill, to remove the brightness, and they don’t know whether to follow. they like you, they like the light you bring and how it feels as if everything will be okay, that they don’t have to worry, that they can close their eyes and rest.

the darkness says that your light is evil, that youre made of poison and full of knives. and it’s the only thing they know, so they listen.

(should they?)

[owlpartytime]

Reading your latest oneshots has had me thinking and I’d love to put some questions to you!

You have such a wide variety of genres / tropes in your catalogue of work, you definitely are not pigeon-holed as a genre-specific writer.

1. What helps the transition between dark to fluffy/lighter fics for you? Or visa versa? Do you find it easy / difficult to get into the frame of mind required for the subject?

Another thing I marvel at is the uniqueness of your fics. There’s always a “never seen before” quality to them that leaves me excited to read everything you post.

2. What are your inspirations for your plots? Where do your ideas stem from?

Finally (I don’t want this to sound more like an interrogation than it already does) I’m someone who really enjoys picking out titles for their fics and likes to have meaning behind them.

3. Do you enjoy the process of titling fics? If so, where do your title references come from? Do you have a title sitting in a document somewhere but no fic attached?

Thank you for humouring me! 💖

1. My frame of mind usually determines what I write, rather than the other way around. It's super easy to write misery and pain when my mood is low, as it often is; sometimes I make conscious choices to write something a little lighter because I've been on a negative run and more sad/depressing shit bums me out more. I think the default writing 'setting' for me is angst and dark, but I must admit I was able to see the appeal in fluffier stories once I gave them a chance. They're actually more difficult for me to do, because I feel like it's harder to make them interesting, if that makes sense.

2. Majority of my non-prompt ideas are just.. whatever scenarios I think would be interesting to explore at the given moment, or a what-if question, or an emotion I feel like expressing. It's rare that I take anything from my life and turn them into fic (even though I did just that with the Eli cooking sweets fic) and very occasionally the stories will come about from conversations with others (like the Thrawn meets a snake fic).

3. Titles are almost always the last thing I decide on for a story, and it's usually just something taken from the story itself - either from a line or a central theme of the story or some other detail that feels relevant to the story. Multichaps usually get a title midway through the first drat; one shots I am almost always looking through what I have when they're done to find a title. It's rare that I have a title in mind before the story is written (the main exceptions being Ch'eo - the story came about from the title - and Silver Moon Rising - which I have yet to write, but hopefully will be soon).

Thank you for asking. ❤❤

[ladyfawkes]

Stop Calling Him 'Horace'! - A Dark Queen & Edmund Story Chapter 2: Child of the Moonstone Current word count: 3440 Rated T I can't exactly explain why, but I always agonize over new material when is released for this fandom. Multiple reasons. I had begun to see several spoilers crop up on Tumblr today (May 12 2021) regarding the upcoming novel about the supposed origin story of Flynn Rider.

So far, I have only actually read ONE (the very first) spoiler-filled excerpt. No worries, I will not spoil my readers. I'll just say that I see some fun things that I do like but a whole lot that frustrates me....and all within one mere excerpt.

As such, I can promise that this fic will almost certainly not be canonically compliant with this upcoming novel.....especially given the fact that I started writing it over a year ago. (As evidenced by published dates.)

I've had most of this 2nd chapter written since perhaps 30-40 days after the first chapter was posted over a year ago....I just couldn't ever polish it to a degree that I liked it and the spoilers I read helped to solidify a lot of my own headcanon vs Disney canon vs fanon. General Story refresher: King Edmund had always assumed his late wife Queen Alexys had come around to accept the fact that he was going to name their son "Horace". While they had fought on it quite a lot, to Edmund's surprise, Alexys had dropped the subject entirely once their son was born. Not long after that....the unfortunate incident with the Moonstone happened and Alexys was killed.

It would take an inordinate amount of stubbornness, an unusual series of events, and interminable amount of time before Edmund would finally discover his wife's secrets about their child and how, even without present-day Eugene's admonitions, Edmund had always mistakenly used the name "Horace" when addressing their son. Chapter 2 Summary: Queen Alexys is consumed with visions. King Edmund is consumed with.....what, exactly?? With next-to-nobody to discuss her visions, Alexys writes and journalizes everything that she can, with the intent to discuss it all with Edmund once he becomes himself again. The Queen, prompted by both hunger to learn and divine anything of value in her visions and a desperation to get through to her ever-fracturing husband, pours her heart out within several epistles. After a particularly jarring dream, it seems that her cherished newborn has finally decided to try joining them in the real world!

Chapter Two: Child of the Moonstone

Queen Alexys had had that same vivid dream several nights in succession, sometimes more than once per night, and always with little variants each time. As a result, she began cataloguing everything in her diary.

One time, Alexys continued the first conversation with her little boy, regarding the baby girl.

“And…..is she a friend of the King?” She wished to know so much more about this baby girl, but not knowing quite how to ask. The little boy nodded rapidly. “And friend of the Kingdom?” More toddler nodding. “And me?” The little boy seemed genuinely stymied by this question. It was the only thing she’d asked about so far for which he didn’t have an instant answer. He finally settled upon saying, “She does….love you a lot too, mama.” For the first time, he seemed a little bit...sad? Why did he appear to show confusion upon her question about she, herself, being friends with the mystery child too?

Hmm...Alexys thought…..this is such a conundrum! Supposedly this baby sunshine girl wasn’t her friend but loved her anyway…..oy. Divining toddler speech was proving to be particularly difficult. Especially when it’s coming from your own knackered preggy-brained mind, thought Lexy with some frustration.

Within this dream, Lexy couldn’t help emitting a lengthy dramatic sigh. She suddenly noticed the little boy was copying her motions and the way she had just sighed. She laughed in spite of herself. He laughed with her. Little angel, she thought, and not for the first time. His lips were so red, his cheeks so rosy pink, and his eyelashes so long that he almost resembled a life-sized doll.

“So….what is your name?” Alexys suddenly asked the boy, wishing to settle the outside argument with Edmund once and for all.

“Name?” he echoed.

“Erm….yes, Little One. What do people call you?” Lexy continued.

“I am….the Child of the Moonstone,” he answered solemnly. His sweet exuberance had been quelled almost instantly. It was the longest sentence she’d ever heard him say, and it was with a weariness no toddler should possess. The babygirl squeals of laughter had quieted entirely with his declaration. In fact, Alexys could’ve sworn she could physically feel emotional pain roiling off her small child. As he mentioned his connection with the Moonstone, all the light and joy hadn’t merely seeped out of her son’s face….it was seeping out of Lexy’s very dream…..until even the sun itself had begun to dim. Although the stark change in their environment shocked her….she nonetheless felt compelled to continue the conversation with her son.

“And does….does the Moonstone make you sad?” Alexys carefully asked him. She had always fretted that the gloomy Dark Palace was no place to raise a child.

The boy nodded, his limpid dark eyes filling with tears. “So lonely,” he said, cautiously approaching Alexys. “But with our Sunshine, we don't hafta be lonely again.” He reached out to touch the ethereal baby girl’s button nose and gave her a toddler “kiss” on the forehead in the form of nosy-nuzzles. Sunshine Baby herself was again babbling and laughing. Lexy’s heart nearly filled to bursting when her little dream boy looked up at her once more, smiling beneath his tears, the child-like wonder restored within his expressive eyes. And just like that, all the light and happiness was restored within her dream. Please, don’t ever be sad like that ever again! Ever!!! Alexys willed her vision, almost hyperventilating with emotion. Exactly who is this child of light that makes my son so happy??

“Who are you, Baby Sun Drop?” Alexys asked the glittering image within her arms. “Why does she make you so happy, Little One?” she asked of her boy. For the first time, she allowed herself to physically reach out to her vision-son. As her hand made contact with his cherubic rosy cheek, he leaned into her touch, causing Lexy’s heart to warm with happy tingles once more.

“Before her, everything went dark. It’s ‘cos I lose you, Mama,” her boy explained softly. Lexy held her breath without realizing….not sure if she should just let him speak or encourage him with more questions. She never wanted him to lose her!! Whatever did he mean by that?? It was quite difficult to interpret his meanings, due in large part to the way he constantly mixed verb tenses and timelines. Then he continued, “I lose all, all of everything...my home, my mama, my daddy…. even my own name. So things are even darker for awhile.” Scant though his details were, Alexys’s natural instinct was to protect him, somehow shield him from the very words that her boy was speaking. So she raised her right arm -- the one not cradling the ethereal child -- and invited her son into her one-armed embrace. The sweet toddler boy readily accepted and snuggled up right against her. Rather than any dream child, to her, he feels so alive and warm and….real. The mere thought that she might lose him the way he says, especially now, before she had even gotten to meet him in person….why, Alexys could scarcely bear thinking about it.

“But one day, Mama -- I do find the light again. I will find you again. Daddy, too. And it’s all because I find….my Sunshine.” He reached down and the glittery babygirl clutched his own small thumb in her tiny fist and they both giggled together.

Yet Alexys’s reaction was far more subdued. What he had just said rocked the queen to her core. Could this possibly be true? That their son eventually loses everything? Please just let this be my own overly tired mind and not an omen of the actual future! she pled fruitlessly of the Fates. Although her boy had basically said everything turns out okay, Lexy couldn’t help but fret over exactly what happens during the intervening years before he finds himself again. This vision felt far more detailed and possessed a more heavy realness than any dream or nightmare she’d yet had. And so she wrote about it. For even if Edmund had become impossible to speak with right now, she would definitely tell him later about these….visions of hers.

(0)(0)(0)(0)(0)

Suddenly, Alexys found herself within another powerful waking vision: the boy toddler who started out by her side was instantly on top of the tree again, within the span of one eye-blink. With his back toward Lexy, her boy turned around, only to fling the dazzlingly bright Drop of Sun directly at the Dark Palace. And it wasn’t merely dark….the whole structure now appeared dead, nothing lighted from within, and it was already half-destroyed by enormous black spikes.

As if in slow motion, the Sun Drop blazed a tiny comet-like path from the top of the tree and it impacted the miniature Dark Palace dead-center of the Black Crystal Canyon. The entire shrunken Palace and its surrounding environs lit up with the impact and were enveloped within a blinding nuclear whiteness that spread out in concentric rings and consumed everything it touched. Then all that had been painted with this whiteness -- all from the prime tower of the Dark Palace radiating outward to the edge of Crystal Canyon, abruptly exploded in a blue-white-hot supernova, sweeping away everything in its path.

(0)(0)(0)(0)(0)

Immediately Lexy’s eyes flew open and she sat bolt upright in bed as quickly as she could following this dream. “Edmund! Please -- wake up! We have--” but she looked over to her side and saw that the bed was empty. She was sleeping alone. Again. It was the third night that week they turned down their bedlamps together and the third night Edmund had been bothered enough to quietly get up and abandon her in their bed chamber. Just what was it that kept eating away at her husband so much that it was now robbing him of sleep? Alexys had a feeling she may already know the answer and fervently wished she could lend just a little bit of her own family’s natural resistance to the Moonstone’s effects to her husband. Maybe then he would stop spending so much time alone in the orb’s cavern, obsessing over how he could possibly destroy it once and for all. Yet before she could swing both legs over the edge of the bed, Alexys had flung open the comforter and saw that everything surrounding her from the hips down was soaked in warm liquid. Alexys coached herself not to panic; she had been preparing herself for this for months now, after all. When the queen tried to push herself off the bed, however, she was instantly seized with dazzling blue-white lightning pain that shot out across her lower back and bisected her pelvis up the center, cut down her legs and to her knees, causing her to scream mightily at the top of her lungs. "Screw not panicking!!", she half-cried, half-yelled to herself. "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDMMMUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNNNNNDDD!!! roared the lionesse, her voice ringing throughout every corridor in the dark palace.

[leigh-kelly]

Girl, I've Never Loved One Like You