#its hard for me to imagine that the actual laws are being terribly specific about longform writing v drawn images v comics etc

[princehendir]

Is it actually more iffy legally to make money off of fanfic than fanart? Because I'm starting to wonder if maybe that might actually be more of a community norm than anything.

[writingwithcolor]

Gingerbread man as golem

@yaronata asked:

I would like to write a character who is Jewish and uses a Golem. She's based on the D&D class of the artificer which looks magic but isn't, because they produce all their effects with inventions, like the "any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic" quote. Her story is that her very Jewish town was under attack from a terrible monster when she was little. Her Rabbis made a Golem to protect the town, and it succeeded but was torn to pieces in the process. She was fascinated by the Golem and as a kid didn't see a big difference between it's sentience and person's so was really thankful for its sacrifice like you would a person's sacrificing their life for you. They thought all the pieces had been devoured by the monster before it died, but she went looking and found the piece used to animate the Golem, which she, kinda misunderstanding called its "heart". She kept the piece and grew up to be an incredibly skilled cook, specialising as a baker in the town. I imagine she would make a lot of really good food for the Jewish holidays, or to break fasts on ones like Yom Kippur or Tish'abav. But she also made a town specific holiday to honour the Golem's sacrifice and the town still being alive, because I feel "we are not dead woo" is a big theme for Jewish holidays from my research, so it could fit, for which she invented ginger bread men to be the golem, and gave them little "hearts" of fruit or honey, and you're meant to eat them limb by limb like the beast did before eating the heart. This would be the inspiration for using the "heart" piece later to make her own giant gingerbread Golem to help her save the world.

These are my questions 1) would it be considered bad or disrespectful for someone who isn't a Rabbi to make a Golem, or is this method of taking an animating piece someone else made disrespectful? 2) Her journey will take her far from her town and her Jewish family and friends and she will likely travel with gentiles. Would it be disrespectful for a Golem to be used to protect a lot of gentiles and one Jew in the course of saving the world? I don't want to fall into the stereotype of someone putting all their effort into valuing and protecting very specifically the group that in real life is oppressive to them. 3) While she is not using magic and is actually mimicking its effects with technology she invents, is this drawing too close to the line of "magical Jew"? 4) I like to "play test" my characters in ttrpgs to really get a feel for them before I write. Would it be disrespectful to play a Jewish character when I am a gentile, and would it be disrespectful to play a Jewish character in a setting where there are demonstrably real gods other than the one of Judaism?

I really like this character idea and I think it's cute and fun and rooted in Jewish culture but I really want to make sure it's respectful and as good as I, a gentile researching on the internet, thinks it is. Thanks so much! Have a nice day!

My answer to this is very complicated because there are things I both like and do not like about this premise. First of all, I love the idea of a cookie golem, and I'm even imagining the magic word that brings him to life (EMET/truth) would be written in icing. And I'm okay with the part about how she found a piece of the old golem and used it to build a new golem, because that makes sense for a golem made from a baked good when you think about how people use sourdough starter to make a new batch of sourdough.

However, here are the thing that make me cock my head to the side like my little sister's German shepherd:

1. re: "magical Jew" - that's not a trope I've ever heard of. Remember, marginalized groups don't receive identical disrespect across the board. It is indeed a trope to use Black people or disabled people as supernatural plot devices who exist only to further the stories of white main characters or able-bodied main characters. But I can't say as I've ever seen anyone using Jewishness that way. Usually if we are someone's one-dimensional plot device it's as someone's lawyer, fixer, "money guy", etc, not a supernatural force. So this isn't something you have to worry about.

2. I have a certain level of discomfort with you playing as a Jewish character just because playacting as a marginalized culture you're not part of strikes me as off, but I understand that that's how you gain insight into a character you're about to write so it's more of a writing exercise than anything else. (I wonder if D&D regulars from marginalized groups have written about this -- I've only played a few times casually with family so if I did run into this type of discussion in my social justice reading I wouldn't have absorbed it. If anyone is curious I played first as Captain Werewolf, and then switched to playing as Cinnamon Blade because lawful good was too hard. :P )

3. I would prefer you omit the detail about eating the cookies piece by piece symbolically, for two reasons: a. it unintentionally evokes Communion by having appreciative people consume a baked good symbolic of an entity who sacrificed his life for theirs, and b. focusing on the details of flesh consumption reminds me too much of Blood Libel (yes, a gingerbread man is in the shape of a person but how many of us actually think about it literally, the way this act would cause?)

As to your first question: I'm fine with her making a golem even though she's just a rando. Second question: I see what you're saying and maybe it could be more okay if it's really clear how well these gentile folks are treating her? And questions three and four are answered above.

I really do love the idea of a giant gingerbread man golem. Cookie golem T_T <3

--Shira

I would like to second Shira’s point about not ripping apart the gingerbread cookies. I honestly would prefer they were used as decoration, and other cookies eaten instead, since that part just feels so not-Jewish to me, but I don’t have golem-specific issues other than that. It seems like you have already been doing a lot of research, which is appreciated.

As far as the ttrpg/DnD aspect… I bounce back and forth on the topic of playing characters that are so very different from our experiences, other than in fantasy-related ways. However, I am aware that a lot of people will play with, and experiment with gender in game, and learn something about themselves in the process (the number of trans players of ttrpgs who tried out their gender in game before they were out is high). It’s different with Judaism, and even more significantly different when it comes to things you can’t convert into, like various actual, real-world races. But because people do sometimes experience growth from experiences like this, I’m hesitant to dissuade players completely. I do urge you to, at a minimum, bring the same care, research, and willingness to learn, that you brought to this question.

--Dierdra

This sounds like a creative storyline that you could have lots of fun with 😊

At first I was confused by this part:

She also made a town specific holiday to honour the Golem's sacrifice

But then you really got me thinking about different types of Jewish holidays and how they come about, so thank you for that!

Because it’s often the little details that either make a story super powerful or kind of nonsensical, I think it would be a good idea to decide what type of holiday is being created here:

A full-blown chag with restrictions on labour and halachic obligations? These are commanded in Torah and new ones can’t be added.

A minor yom tov with halachic obligations but no restrictions? These were instituted by the rabbis prior to the destruction of the Temple, so again new ones can’t be added.

A public holiday or equivalent? This would usually be declared by the Knesset in Israel, and filter to the rest of the Jewish world from there.

A community-based yom tov with specific customs only for people in the know, such as certain Chasidic groups celebrating the birthdays of their deceased leaders? I asked around, but no one can really tell me how these holidays get started, which is probably a good indication that they arise quite organically from a group of people who all just feel that it should be celebrated. Probably not created by a single person, as such.

Something she runs from her bakery, not religion-based, but more like a day of doing special products and deals the way many small businesses do on their anniversary?

Now, if the people of a modern-day town were actually saved by a real live Golem, that would arguably be the most overt miracle for many generations, so there would be a decent chance of options 3 and/or 4 happening. It’s entirely plausible that there could be special foods for this day that become a tradition, including Golem cookies. People who directly benefited might also return to the site where the Golem fought the monster and recite the prayer, ‘Blessed is Hashem, Master of the Universe, Who performed a miracle for me in this place.’

Alternatively, if it’s important that your MC created the holiday, something like option 5 might be the best. Hopefully this will still fulfil what you need: you describe her as incredibly skilled, so I can imagine the day when she goes all out on the Golem cookies being one of the most exciting events of the year for the townspeople, just because her baking is that good. Plus, they already have a personal stake in the Golem’s sacrifice, so I definitely think it could be a thing without being an official holiday. Also, if she is outside of an all-Jewish environment, don’t forget that she would have to decide whether to commemorate the anniversary in the Hebrew calendar or the local one.

Coming back to the cookies, sorry if we’re getting a little repetitive on this point! But I don’t see the cookies being torn limb from limb as part of a celebration. First of all, this doesn’t sound like a very celebratory thing to do, to say the least. Can you imagine explaining that to a three-year-old on their first Yom HaGolem? They would be terrified! (I don’t read this suggestion as accidental anti-Semitism so much as getting carried away with a metaphor, which I’m sure as writers we have all done!)

But also, it’s worth pointing out that our commemorative foods aren’t usually that literal. If you think about hamantaschen, maror, or apple in honey, they’re all symbols. That’s not to say that having Golem-shaped cookies is a problem, as this sounds like just a bit of fun that the MC is having and not something that is directly at odds with Judaism or Jewish culture. But it’s worth bearing in mind that the more literal you go from there in terms of tying the cookies to the event they commemorate, the less culturally aligned your holiday food becomes.

Finally, about the Golem protecting non-Jewish people: I like this idea! There’s a stereotype that we only use whatever is at our disposal to help ourselves and other Jewish people, so a Golem being created by Jews but helping others as well is a big plus for me. Of course, as has already been pointed out, this would be an odd choice if her Saving The World team were anti-Semitic or otherwise disrespectful to her/her community, but I don’t think you were headed that way!

-Shoshi

I have to come back in here just to squee over the phrase “Yom HaGolem.” Well done :D

--Shira

[butwhatifidothis]

So. Took a look into that fic @nilsh13 is going through the comments of. Dunno if I’ll actually go through the entire thing - 300k words is certainly a lot of words to read through, especially with it still updating, but I’ve read through/am reading through longer ones - but I jumped to the latest chapter to get a feel for where the fic’s at now.

I’m not halfway through the chapter and I have Words To Say lmao, under the cut

This is going to be as serious a critique about the sections I’ve selected as possible - I want to be clear why I think what is being written is not of high quality, pointing out specifically what I have wrong with it. 

Here are some snippets of the fic (boldened), and following those snippets are my thoughts on them:

“My actions have caused immense turmoil, pitting friend against friend, mother against daughter, and brother against sister*,” muttered Edelgard, desperately trying to drive any hint of self-pity (emphasis mine) from her voice. “My best friend has been disowned by her family, Hubert and Ferdinand’s fathers are dead or imprisoned, and the woman I love is now deemed a heretic by the Church that once offered her shelter. The weight of my decisions seems to pull down all who are caught in the shadow of the Imperial crown.” The Flame Emperor gave Professor Hanneman a wan smile. “Whatever imagined slights you believe you have committed against me, they pale in comparison to the carnage my own words and deeds have unleashed.” 

""I made my choice, the only choice I could make, and dragged this continent down to hell with me. It makes me a poor ruler, and an even baser person, but that was the path I knew I must take."" 

“"It is funny you use the word ‘choice’, Miss Edelgard. When I resigned my title to study at Garreg Mach, I lost marriage prospects, became penniless outside of a small stipend…I even renounced the opportunity to have a family.” Hanneman smiled, his whole body suffused with melancholy. “Really, how could I dare to dream of bringing a daughter into a world this senseless and cruel, knowing that someday, she too, could be hurt in such a way? I…I would not survive it.” The man’s body shook. “I sacrificed those things, things I desperately wanted, because the chance to allow my sister to rest in peace was more important. And I would make that choice again, despite all that it has cost me. You are much the same.”"

"“But your sacrifices were your own,” protested the Emperor of Adrestia. “Thousands bleed for the choices that I have made, and sacrifice themselves for the cause that I have placed before them. There is a profound difference-“"

"“We are both wise enough to know a painful truth,” said the scholar with a melancholy smile. “No matter how grave the sins, no matter how many innocents suffer…there will be countless individuals who will defend the law not because it is just, or righteous, but because it is the law. They will permit a hundred Abysses, and a thousand women to be raped, and a million dead children, as long as such actions do not disturb their order.” He placed a hand on Edelgard’s shoulder. “To stand against such moral rot, knowing that the world will despise and vilify you for it, is the truest sign of not only a just ruler, but a good woman.”"

"The academic’s words blazed with the passion of both a scholar and a man who had watched his world crumble to ash. A man who had been forced to live in the remnants of a life forever altered by the cruelty of both society and of humanity. And yet he had fought, the only way he could, to make the world better. It gave the Flame Emperor new resolve."

"“I…” He turned and looked away. “I believe in you, Miss Edelgard. When I see you, and your determination, your spirit, your bravery in choosing not what is easy, but what is right…it reminds me of her.” Fingers clenched around his locket. “I will fight for you, in the way I should have fought for my sister, long ago. My strength is meagre, and my courage more meagre still. However, all of it is yours.”" 

The author writes Edelgard as one trying to give pity onto herself for her actions, despite how negatively they affect her, due to the immense ramifications those actions have had on those both around her and those under her care. This is the appropriate response to someone who has done as morally dubious an action as starting and spearheading a war that has led to the deaths and suffering of countless innocent people, some of whom were undoubtedly already going through immense suffering without war compounding itself onto their already existing pain. She - rightfully - points as, as a negative towards herself, that she has forced thousands of people to sacrifice their lives, livelihoods, friends, family, homes, etc. in order to continue with her war. Edelgard's canonical self-justification - that she had no other choice to do this - is properly utilized, and further characterization is given to her when she herself recognizes that performing such horrendous actions on the people under her care makes her a poor ruler and terrible person. This is, in truth, a decent set-up for her to go onto a possible path of redemption or self-realization.

However, that progress is forcibly stopped and reverted by Hanneman justifying her actions and recontextualizing them in a morally good light. In fact, the entire story does this, as characters act wildly out of character in order for Edelgard to be seen as good in comparison to them. Focusing on the quoted lines, however, Hanneman relating him giving up nobility and going into momentary poverty - whether true to canon or not - to Edelgard's war actively paints her actions as something that she had a right to be making, which she does not, as they force others to make sacrifices for her cause. When she herself rightfully points this discrepancy out, Hanneman excuses her actions by pointing to another - supposed - source of turmoil and essentially saying "You are more right than x, therefore your y actions are not only better, but objectively good, and make you a good person." He says nothing of the inherent injustice of taking away the choice of the people to live as they want and fight for who they want as well as deliberately taking away any semblance of safety from them, and makes objective statements about Edelgard's moral righteousness despite her taking actions that would, by definition, make her moral righteousness a subjective matter at minimum.

Hanneman is projecting the image of his sister and his own personal sense of justice onto Edelgard, and thus sees her as just as much a victim of the war and society as everyone else. Edelgard is a young woman who has gone through trauma due to Crests, as was his sister, and he himself (in this story, though not within the quoted lines) wanted to beat the man who abused his sister to death, and so he sees Edelgard using violence as a means to achieve justice as not only not questionable, but morally good and brave, as he felt he was not brave enough to enact "justice" onto the man that caused his sister's death. Instead of this being settled, focused on, or even mentioned, despite its obvious nature due to deliberate connections Hanneman himself makes, it is used as a means to showcase that Hanneman is a, for lack of a better term, "expert" on what he is saying when speaking to Edelgard. He knows what it's like to want to force change, he has by-proxy experienced the apparent injustice of the Church - not human society, not his family's decision to allow his sister to be married off, not the man who caused her death's decision to discard her, but strictly the Church and only the Church - and so he can "rightfully" justify and excuse Edelgard's morally questionable actions and paint them in a solely positive light, with no nuance or gray whatsoever.

Edelgard, in the first quote, attempts to say her actions without a tone of self-pity, and yet the narrative itself pities Edelgard. She should be allowed to feel bad about her actions - not because they are causing unfathomable suffering on people who were underserving, but because they’re just hard decisions that she was good and brave to make and maybe she can feel a little bad for herself for making them. She shouldn't feel responsible for choosing to start the war - in fact, did she really have a choice, or did everyone else in society force her to? She shouldn't question whether she's a good person or not, because she simply is - no debate, no question. She is - “justly” - standing up against "moral rot"; that she does so with even more moral rot is irrelevant, because, according to the story, it is not as rotten as that she's up against, therefore it is no longer rotten in the first place. War has been completely justified, as it is now not the last resort of desperation that could only ever be morally grey at its absolute best, but an objectively morally white decision of an objectively morally white person who is facing an objectively morally black opponent.

The actions of other characters attempt to paint Edelgard as someone closer to the former, but I will - maybe - eventually go over how those characters are extremely mischaracterized in order to prop Edelgard as their moral superior. 

[nanami-says]

Part III (1/2): chapters 19-25

Vs. Mahito Arc

Chapter 19 (aka why this blog exists)

J:”Yeah, we know that. But we flatter her because she looks easy.”

⇒ ”And the three of them know it as well. But they flatter you exaggeratedly anyway because they think you’ll let them do you”

Actually Junpei’s lines.

J:”I can’t believe people like that go to my school.”

Not incorrect, I just want to point out that Junpei didn’t just say “people”, the word he used is “race” (人種）, which implies he doesn’t see them as the same kind of human he is.

J:”Was it that guy who did it? There’s no way a person could do that! If he did it, he must not be human.”

⇒ “Was it that person just now? No, would such a thing be even possible for a human being? And if it was, would they really be a ‘human being’?”

Overall correct but the flow was different. Mind you, 人 can be translated both as “person” and “human being” (among others) depending on the context. Imo this captures the nuance better but YMMV!

N:”I’m here to identify the truth and uphold the law. There was a time when I thought the society had the same goals”

⇒ ”Adapting to the facts [in front of you] and managing yourself accordingly. That’s who I am. There was a time where I mistakenly believed society operated on the same basis.”

This was really hard to translate, especially since the phrase Nanami uses here is rather formal language. I actually checked the official anime subtitles for this one and they went with “I adhere to the facts and judge on that basis”, which I guess is close enough? I’d probably go with it as well if not for the fact that he doesn’t just say 律する but 己を律する (己/onore = I/me in humble language).

Seems like the exact meaning of the phrase is difficult to understand even for Japanese people - there are whole articles out there breaking down the meaning and giving examples of how to implement it in life 8D Anyway, the simplest explanation is “to control yourself”, with further nuance of “enforcing rules on yourself in order to achieve a goal”, “restricting your desires and impulses by your own will” etc.

Thanks a lot, Gege.

Btw, Ino, who respects Nanami greatly and considers him a mentor, actually uses the same phrase, word for word, in ch. 95! (事実に即し、己を律する) That’s how important it is. Also, continuity!

Y:”Let’s do it!”

N:”There’s no need to get excited”

⇒ Y:“Let’s go all out!!”

 N:”No, if moderate’s enough, let’s just do it moderately”

They both used descriptors for just what kind of intensity they should approach the mission with. Imo, an important distinction because after they learn the full extent of the situation, Nanami takes back his words from this moment and agrees with Yuuji, going as far as to use the same words Yuuji did here.

N:”I wonder what others would think hearing you say that”

⇒ “I’m sure the others wouldn’t want to hear that from you [of all people]”

So not so much “don’t be rude” as “dude, you’re the weirdest of them all”. Emphasis mine.

N:”What I learned at Jujutsu High is that jujutsu sorcerers are idiots” 

& “What I realized while at the office is that work is idiotic”

He actually says “shit” both times lol. If it was just the humour that suffered here, it still wouldn’t be too awful but unfortunately it’s not just that. The “sorcerers are shit” line gets recalled when Nanami’s facing death, trapped in Mahito’s domain, which makes it pretty damn important. It gets translated yet differently by the official release then, too, which further damages continuity I believe Gege intended for this.

”So I took the lesser of two evils. Nothing more, nothing less”

⇒ “If both are shit, then I just chose the one I’m more cut out for. That’s all as far as the reason for my coming back is concerned.”

I mean, if we realllllly insist on watering down everything that Nanami says (as JJK translators apparently did), then the basic meaning was conveyed but the original wording and nuance was closer to what I proposed.

N:”Prove to me that you can be useful in spite of the demon Sukuna inside of you”

⇒ “Give your best to prove that you’re useful despite carrying the bomb that Sukuna is.”

Considering how 2 pages later Nanami tells Yuuji that he’s not the one Yuuji should be proving himself to, it’d have been weird if this is actually what he’d said, wouldn’t it. But Nanami’s nothing if not reasonable, so that wasn’t the case.

Y:”I’m weak and useless. I’ve been hearing a lot of that these days”

⇒ “That I’m weak and useless... I’ve been realising that to a painful extent these days”

“I’ve been hearing it” would imply that someone was actually saying it either to Yuuji himself or to others which he was aware of. (I mean, other than Sukuna.) The original wording doesn’t really hold such connotation.

N:”If you think you’re in trouble, let me know”

Y:”Have some faith in me, will ya? Just a little.”

N:”It’s not about faith.(...)”

Y:”A child? I’d rather be underestimated”.

⇒ N:“If you decide you cannot win, please call me.”

Y:”Aren’t you underestimating me too much?”

N:”This is not about ‘underestimating’ or ‘not underestimating’.(...)

Y:”[Even] being underestimated would’ve been better over being treated like a kid.”

I guess the translators wanted to avoid saying “underestimate” 3 times in a row? Albeit that’s what the original does.

More importantly though!!

N:”I’m an adult and you’re a child. I have the obligation to look after you”

⇒ “(...) It’s my obligation to prioritise you over myself.”

Quite a different nuance, right. Not just “I have to look after you” but “your well-being [life] takes priority over my own”.

N:”Experiencing these little losses is what helps people grow into adults”

⇒ “It’s the accumulation of such small despairs that turns people into adults”

Not that wildly different but despairs (hopelessnesses) >>> losses, y/y. Also “helps” made it sound more positive when it’s both a poignant and at the same time dry statement.

Chapter 20

N:”There are techniques that aren’t affected if revealed to certain enemies”

Those two feel more like separate examples to me. I.e. that there are techniques that aren’t affected if revealed, and there are some enemies that you can afford to reveal your technique to. Could apply simultaneously but don’t necessarily have to, if that makes sense?

“There is a merit to revealing one’s hand and the rules it initiates. You can make your technique even more effective.”

⇒ “It has its merits too. The ‘binding’ of ‘revealing one’s hand’ amplifies the effectiveness of your technique.”

Wild lost “binding” appears! Like I indicated before, it’s the lack of consistency to translating terms that are consistent in the original, that has negatively affected the fans’ ability to understand the basics of jjk techniques and world-building.

[Explaining Yuuji’s divergent fist]

GJ:”But it’s a lot easier said than done for anyone else.”

⇒ “It’s not something that can be easily done on purpose”

N:”His physical strength is superhuman. The impact of his hit doesn’t have incredibly strong energy, but it’s still about 20% more than a normal sorcerer. That means his delayed hit comes from his main source of cursed energy. It must be quite annoying for those on the receiving end. Such potential. If he’s able to go out all and combine his full physical strength with a cursed technique…”

⇒ “(...) The initial impact contains little cursed energy but it still achieves 120% of an average sorcerer. And then the actual cursed energy hits with a delay. For those on the receiving end it must be more unpleasant than one could imagine. And he’s got potential for growth, too. If he becomes able to add 100% of cursed energy to a 100% body…”

Uhh, this was a tricky one because on the first read it doesn’t seem that terribly wrong but when you read the original carefully, you realise this and that got lost in translation. My version should be closer to the original meaning.

I:”We’re going to have to ask the murderer about the technique”

⇒ “That’s just something that you can’t know unless you ask the offender about their technique”

Obviously Ieiri wasn’t suggesting to literally ask the murderer.

“However there’s evidence the brain stems were modified. Their consciousness were also modified to create a state of confusion”

⇒ (...) This was probably done to create a disturbance of consciousness... a state of mental confusion”

Slightly different nuance for this one.

Y:”For me, the gravity of death is the same regardless. This isn’t right!”

First sentence is mostly correct but it should’ve been “the gravity of death of another person” (emphasis mine).

Second sentence sounds too mild for what is actually Yuuji being super mad specifically about the way those people were killed? The phrase he uses means something like "This is just in way too poor taste”, “way too vulgar” etc. I guess if you went for a less literal translation, you could say “just too disgusting”/”revolting”.

N:”This matter won’t be taken care of so easily. Let’s do it”

⇒ “Looks like ‘moderately’ won’t be enough here. Let’s go all out.”

This is the instance of Nanami retracting his words and backing Yuuji up by borrowing his own words that I mentioned earlier!

M:”Jujutsu sorcerers brand such entities as “special grade potential spirits” and fear them as much as powerful curses. The fact that they categorize them as such really shows their shallowness”

⇒ “Jujutsu sorcerers register them as “special grade potential apparitions” and remain on alert against them [on alert for their appearance]. The same applies to powerful unidentified curses. That they categorise them as ‘potential apparitions’ just shows how little they truly see.”

It’s not that sorcerers fear them per se but that they (most likely) monitor them and are on guard against them. When followed up by the “what people truly genuinely fear are natural disasters [forces of nature]” conversation, it becomes clear that what Mahito scorns sorcerers for is their short-sightedness for thinking all powerful curses must be born out of people’s imagination, ~urban legends~ etc.

[Junpei asking what Mahito was born from]

M:”Thanks to the hatred spewed between people I was born”

⇒ “I’m a curse born out of the fear and hatred people harbour towards [other] people"

or even

“I’m a curse born out of people hating and fearing people”

Again a quite different nuance. They really shouldn’t have edited “fear” out.

Chapter 21

J:’Don’t you think that whoever first said, ‘The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference’ must be rotting in hell? There’s no way hating people is better than feeling indifferent towards them.”

⇒ “(...) There’s no way that approaching others with evil intentions is better than not interacting [with them] at all”

The first sentence is mostly fine although the original doesn’t include the “is not hate” bit, it only says “the opposite of love is indifference”. The second part is quite different. After all, hating doesn’t necessarily imply there’s any action taken.

“Complicating simple things for the sake of meaning is such a Japanese thing to do”

⇒ “Japanese sure love it - complicating simple answers and gloating in it”

I didn’t like the “for the sake of meaning” bit, imo it’s over-interpreting.

J:”Indifference. That’s what humans should strive for.”

M:”Sounds more like revenge”

J:“Are you saying that I got it all mixed up?”

Junpei’s first line here is fine although interestingly enough he puts it as “a virtue humans should strive for”. Then it’s

⇒ M:“And yet you wish for revenge”

J:”Are you trying to say I’m contradicting myself?”

M:”In this world, only I understand the soul’s composition. I can even transmogrify living beings. Emotions come from the soul. It’s too simplistic to call it ‘heart’. People overthink the things they can’t see. (...)”

⇒ “In this world I’m the only one who understands the soul’s composition. After all, I change the shape of living beings by touching it. Emotions are products of the metabolism of the soul. It’s altogether too mechanical [of a process] to call it a heart. People assign too much value to things invisible to the eye.(...)”

Last one is literally “consider ‘special’ way too much”, simpler wording than what I went with but I tried to make it more legible.

The “metabolism of the soul” phrase is especially vital because Junpei throws it at Yuuji almost word for word when confronted by him at the school after his mother’s death.

More philosophy lessons from Mahito-sensei \o/

“Don’t limit yourself to just being indifferent. There’s no reason to live by such a restricting philosophy.”

⇒ “Don’t allow yourself to be shackled by the ideal called ‘indifference’. There’s no need for there to be consistency in one’s way of life.”

Mahito actually takes the “is ‘consistency’ necessary” stance a few times in the manga, including when he and Getou squabble about the relationship between the body and the soul in Shibuya. A pity about the mistranslation here.

“I support everything you represent, Junpei”

⇒ “I’ll affirm your everything, Junpei”

Imo the act of supporting and the act of affirming while similar aren’t one and the same, hence the change.

N:”Either come alone, or risk bringing Itadori with me. I chose the former, nothing more. He’s still a child, after all.”

⇒ “The risk of venturing [into the enemy’s territory] alone, or the risk of bringing Itadori-kun with me. I simply chose the former. He’s still a child, after all.”

Idk, I feel like cutting out “the risk” from the first option makes Nanami sound more callous? Like Yuuji’s a liability and going by himself is a sounder option. Whereas, it was actually him weighing two risks against each other and deciding that potentially endangering Yuuji is the one he can afford less.

[After Yuuji asks why he doesn’t know important jujutsu related stuff.]

I:”Because Gojou’s your mentor.” ⇒ “it’s because Gojou’s ...”

He actually uses a lovely adjective to describe Gojou, which can mean a plethora of things, including: irresponsible, sloppy, lazy, unreliable, careless, perfunctory etc. etc.

Ichiji? Not a member of Gojou Satoru Fanclub.

Y:”This feels like a bad plan”

⇒ “This feels so staged, I don’t like it.”

Lit. “play [perform, read] one's own work”. I think what Yuuji might’ve meant here was that the plan felt dishonest? Second sentence could also be “I don’t feel up for it.”

Chapter 22

M:”Was that some kind of cursed technique?”

N:”What do you mean by ‘some kind’? I don’t appreciate questions that are left open to interpretation”

⇒ “(...) I hate abstract questions that put the whole burden on the other person”

Lit. “that leave it to others”. Other than Nanami being more straightforward with “hate”/”dislike”, I think this was him expressing he doesn’t like people who don’t even try to think for themselves and immediately demand answers from others instead.

“It would be silly to not assume a connection(...)”

⇒ “It would be more unnatural not to assume a connection(...)”

Different wording (unnatural instead of silly), which imo affects Nanami’s characterisation.

M:”The shape of the body will always be dependent on the shape of the soul”

This sounds a bit too passive and generic? Closer to “The shape of the body gets pulled along by the shape of the soul”, which is literally what Mahito’s technique does.

I’m heavily paraphrasing but!

magazine raw scans: ”it's 6:30 PM now and I started working at 11 AM, so I'm going to finish by 7PM no matter what”

official English release:”it's 5:30 PM now and I started at 10, gotta finish by 6”

The time change is so random, I wonder if Gege simply changed it themselves for the volume release. Maybe to bring it closer to the common office job times? Typical Japanese work day at the office begins at 9AM and lasts 8h + 1h break (completely unpaid but compulsory). I guess if Nanami skipped the break then working 10AM-6PM would make it exactly 8h?

The biggest mystery of jjk.

Chapter 23

M:”Even if sorcerers can protect their bodies using cursed energy, they can’t protect their souls”

⇒ “Even if sorcerers can protect their bodies using cursed energy, they [just] aren’t used to protecting their souls”.

So it’s not that they “can’t” as in “are incapable of” and more that there’s never been the need, so they never learned how and aren’t used to doing it. As proven by Yuuji later it’s not impossible.

M:”Overtime? He restricts himself based on time! He was limiting his power until now!”

⇒ “Overtime work? A ‘biding’ based on time! He was suppressing his power by himself until now!”

Another instance where “binding” as a term makes its appearance (it even uses quotation marks) but wasn’t properly denoted by the translators.

M:”A large-scale attack, and he doesn’t care if he gets hit while doing it!”

⇒ “A large-scale attack [done] with the resolve of [potentially] getting killed along with me!”.

The phrase Mahito uses here is 相打ち, lit. “killing [hitting] each other at the same time”. Also, “doesn’t care” and “is prepared/has the resolve” are quite different, aren’t they.

Chapter 24

J:”The way a perfectionist is willing to lay everything out there is beautifully portrayed”

⇒ ”The change in emotions [leading up] to a perfectionist abandoning everything is properly portrayed here”

I’m including this because knowing Gege, it’s not just simple movie talk, and it’s actually foreshadowing Yuuji’s future fate or something 8D

I can’t decide if it’s “abandon” (also “throw out of the window”) or “sacrifice” because the word used can mean either. I’m leaving that to everyone’s interpretation.

“Like I thought, that sorcerer’s nuts!”

⇒ “He doesn’t look it but he sure does reckless things, that sorcerer”

How does "he doesn't look it but (...)" even become "like I thought (...)"? He was laughing at and enjoying the contrast between Nanami's appearance/attitude and his actions/fighting.

M:”My cursed energy is also controlled by my will”

⇒ “The spending of cursed energy too is among things I can supply by myself.”

I’m not entirely sure because it’s a tricky one, so take this one with a grain of salt. But the official release is definitely missing “spending/expenditure” and Mahito isn’t talking about using/manipulating his cursed energy in general but “the amount of cursed energy spent”.

“Mr. Irresponsible Gojou” ⇒  “Devil-may-care Gojou-san”

“Mr. Mature Nanami” ⇒ “The adult of [all] adults Nanami-san”/”the adult above all adults”

I just really enjoy Ichiji and his little epithets, I guess.

J:”Have you ever killed anyone?”

⇒ “Have you ever killed a human being/another human?”

Just putting it out there because imo there's a distinction between “anyone” and “a human being”. Especially considering how much of this arc was questioning what being a human means.

Y:”Um… I mean, the choice to kill will definitely find its way to me”

⇒ "How to put it... once I've killed someone, "killing" would become one of the possible options [to take] in my life".

Maybe the nuance was there in the official release too and I just didn't pick up on it but to me the former makes it sound more like he’s saying "I may still have to kill one day". Whereas the original seems to hold the connotation that if you do something once - even if it’s something as horrible as killing another human being - it becomes easier to do it again in the future because it's a choice you've made before, it's not untouchable anymore.

Chapter 25

[Yuuji expressing his regret over Nanami choosing to go fight Mahito alone.]

"Am I in your way, Nanamin?”

⇒ “Am I a burden [to you], Nanamin?”

A different nuance for this line.

“’My friend died but I wasn’t there because I’m a child.’ I wouldn't do that to you. That said"

⇒ "’My comrade died. But I wasn’t there. Why? Because I am a child.’ I would hate something like that" [to be put in such a position]

And this is just pure mistranslation. The whole “my comrade died but I wasn’t there because I’m a child” line is actually Yuuji painting a possible scenario (he does it with short sentences but the speech is overall polite). What they translated as “that said” was actually a follow-up to that scenario and could be translated as “something like that”.

N:”Being a child is not a bad thing”

⇒ “Being a child is in no way a crime”

I wanted to point this out since the original word’s most common meaning is actually “sin”, which is significantly heavier than just “not a bad thing”. Could also go with a milder “is not something to feel guilty about” here I guess.

G:”How’s the curtain coming along?”

M:”Can’t get in, can get out. This only applies to humans with weak cursed energy.”

⇒ G:”What’s the effect of the ‘curtain’?”

M:“Can't get out from the inside, can get in from the outside. (...)”

Literally the opposite for the curtain’s effect. Emphasis is Gege’s, too! Also Getou’s question was actually about how exactly the curtain in question would work, and not just how it was coming along.

M:”We’ll make them fight and force Yuji Itadori to make a binding vow in Sukuna’s favor”

Just to reiterate, whenever “binding vow” appears, it’s actually just “binding”.

[to part iii (2/2)]

[to part iii (2/2)]

[smashboxgirl26]

vengeance / chapter 6: a new perspective

chapter 5: befriending | chapter 7: helping

vengeance masterlist

You and Midoriya both walked through the doors, Midoriya following close behind as you swiped your keycard at the entrance and guided him to the center of the floor. Your heels clicked in rhythm against the cold, hard floor as you made your way to the front to see Mina sitting at the front desk.

She liked to take over for you during your lunch period since hers was earlier and she didn’t want you to come back stressed and worried about what to do. She would take the calls, write down notes for you, and direct people if they needed any basic assistance.

Her eyes looked up at the sound, widening as she saw the green-haired male that was trailing slowly behind you. Midoriya was more concerned with the atmosphere of the building, his eyes glancing in every direction as he took the place in.

His eyes stopped once he saw Mina stand up from the desk, in realization of her being one of the friends that was featured on your instagram account.

She was another Pro Hero. Somehow, it seemed like everyone else had achieved that dream except for him. But now, he’d have the chance to achieve something much greater, and much more meaningful than what they were doing.

“Hey Y/N,” Mina waved slightly before gesturing to Midoriya, “Who’s this?”

“A good friend of mine,” you answered, waving off her suspicions.

She raised her eyebrows in response to your answer but didn’t say anything as she reached her hand over the counter to shake Midoriya’s.

“Mina Ashido, or also known as the hero, Pinky!”

Midoriya returned the gesture before replying, “Izuku Midoriya. Nice to meet you.”

You interrupted their greeting as you stepped behind the desk and placed the messenger bag down, before turning to Mina.

“Is Katsuki still here? Or did he leave for patrol already?”

“Sorry, he left just a couple minutes ago,” she answered, staring at the paper bag and cup in your hand, guessing that was the reason for your question.

“I can put those up in his office for you if you’d like,” she said, gesturing towards them. “I have to go up and finish some paperwork now anyway before I leave.”

“Yes, please,” you nodded.

She smiled as she plucked them off the desk and nodded to Midoriya to say goodbye, before heading to the back of the building towards the elevator.

“Sorry about that,” you said, as you turned back to Midoriya. “Usually he’s still here,” you frowned.

He never left for patrol without saying goodbye to you. Maybe something urgent came up and he had to leave immediately.

“Don’t worry about it, he’s a pro hero so I understand,” Midoriya replied as he rubbed the back of his nape and looked around awkwardly.

“I don’t want you to wait here. Sometimes he comes back way later than normal, and if something happened that he had to leave in a rush he’ll definitely take a while.”

You stood up from the desk once more as you walked him out. Midoriya thanked you for the lunch before heading off into the direction of the bookstore, but not before glaring at the man from last night who passed him as he made his way back towards the building from lunch.

…

After you left his office, Bakugou stared down at the files you’d given him, having no motivation to open them and finish his paperwork. He mostly stared at the little sticky note on the top one, the little heart that was at the end of the note telling him who to call.

He shifted his chair so he could stare at the window, watching as the sun moved along with the clouds overhead.

Hearing Deku’s name for the first time in so long was starting to affect his mental capacity. He was scared. He remembered all the terrible things that happened between them before he left. And he regretted it. He regretted everything that he said and did.

But hearing about Deku again reminded him of that guilt, something that he’d pushed down a long time ago and left to sit on its own.

Would Deku even understand him if he explained his actions now? Would he forgive him, even?

More than anything, he didn’t want you to look at him any different if you found out what happened. Ideally, no one would tell you but he wasn’t so sure that was going to happen.

Watching the people pass by outside the window without awareness of his gaze seemed to ease him as the clock ticked by slowly. He finally turned away when he felt he’d thought over the situation enough. He was going to tell you when you both got back home and then hope for the best.

He swivelled the chair back to face the desk and stared at the note on the sticky note, reading:

Call from the Hero’s Commission, (###)###-####

Call back soon! ♥

He reached over his desk to grab the phone and typed in the numbers before pressing it up to his ear.

He turned back to stare at the world outside the window as the phone rang, the noise finally ending when he heard the other line pick up.

“Heroes Commision secretary Whitney speaking, how may I help you?”

“I got a call earlier, I was in a meeting,” he answered gruffly and bluntly.

“Ah yes, Mr. Dynamite? Give me a second and I’ll transfer you to the Director’s line.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes slightly at the thought of having to be on hold for longer. He hated the seemingly endless ringing.

So he was thankful when the other line opened up promptly, the Director clearing his throat noticeably before answering.

“Thank you for calling back so quickly. Usually we don’t get an answer back from your agency for a couple of days,” the director chuckled lightly.

Bakugou rolled his eyes in response to his comment. He despised the Director’s needless attempts to create mindless conversations when on business calls. He just wanted the news or information he wanted to tell him, and then he would hang up with no further notice. Which is probably why, he always put off calling them back for a couple of days.

Why he decided to actually call back promptly, was weird.

The director gave another small laugh as he imagined Bakugou’s reaction to his statement, deciding not to agitate him further.

“Listen, I’ll cut to the chase. I understand that back in UA, your class in particular had many run-ins with the group known as the League of Villains.”

“Yeah, we did,” Bakugou responded with his eyebrow raised. He was concerned as to where the direction of the conversation could be heading.

“And as you know, after the last large fight that occurred between the heroes, including your class, and said group ended in them being put away to top-security prisons and psych wards.”

The Director paused afterwards, the silence becoming louder by the second. Bakugou had a feeling about what he was going to say next. He didn’t want to admit it to himself though. His mind glanced back to you, thinking about how you were probably walking around the city without a care in the world. He wanted it to remain that way.

“Well, some of the staff at those institutions have expressed that there have been more and more behavioural incidents lately. They’ve been seeing more and more suspicious behavior coming either from the way they act with staff or the way they communicate with other prisoners. They are coming to fear that something big will occur soon. Of course, law enforcement has been notified and detectives are looking into the old case files and other pieces of evidence left behind to look for clues. So far, they think that there might be someone still out there that used to work with them. They have no direct evidence pointing to that fact, but from what I can see that’s what it looks like.”

“So why’re you dragging me into this mess, huh?”, Bakugou interrupted quickly. “Of course there are some people left behind. The underworld is huge, and is twisted in ways we don’t even fucking understand. Who knows how many goddamn people could’ve been working under or with them on the side?”

“As perceptive as always, huh Dynamite?”

Katsuki was about ready to jump over to the office and blow the old man up. He was tired of his overdramatic, round-about way of speaking. He wanted to be done with the call so he could finish his paperwork and eat the lunch you brought him before going out for patrol. He didn’t want to deal with the nonsensical drama the Director always tried to bring in his news.

“Don’t kill me, I swear I’ll tell you,” the Director reassured when he swore he heard Bakuogu’s seething breaths from the other line. “Why I’ve chosen you, Katsuki Bakugou? Because you’re capable. You’ve been in enough missions that you know rushing in at this stage in time is useless, but also know how to quickly take action when necessary. I trust that you won’t screw this up. Not to mention, you are the number four hero. And that the heads of police have been riding up my ass to get some heroes assigned on the case. A big name hero such as yourself will get them to shut up for a while. And then, when nothing pans out, you’ll get credit without having to do much.”

“...So, you’re basically telling me that you think the entire point of the case is useless. And that you want me to go help them, so they shut up.”

“Exactly,” the Director nodded intently. “Besides, since you’ve worked with these specific villains before, I’m sure that you’ll be able to tell them that nothing’s going to happen. We don’t want the public having an outcry, do we? It would wreak utter devastation otherwise.”

Bakugou shifted the air out of his nose harshly, choosing not to respond to his last comment. He bit his tongue before opening his mouth, yet feeling no words forming in his throat. What was he supposed to respond to him with?

So instead, he opted to just hang up the phone. The Director wouldn’t care, he was used to it.

He stared back at the desk in front of him, but not really looking at it as he began overthinking the Director’s words in his mind. He glanced down to the sticky note that you’d left him, specifically at the little heart at the end of the note.

While he hadn’t expressed his genuine fear to the Director, he was worried about where the investigation was going to pan out. He didn’t want anything dangerous to be found, obviously, but finding something and reporting it was better than sweeping it under the rug.

And since he now had no choice but to join, you bet he wasn’t going to half-ass it like the Director thought he was going to. He always put all of his effort into everything he did for his hero work, and this was no different.

And the little heart at the end of the note urged him further. He wanted to deal with the issue so you could be safe. That was his main job. No one else mattered if he couldn’t protect you first.

His consciousness began to slip out of his mind and back into the present moment, looking at the many files of paperwork littered across his desk. His hand reached out slightly as if it was an attempt to reach them, yet he recoiled it quickly, getting a sense of anxiety just looking at the pile.

He turned back behind him to look out the window, and stared once again at the blue sky and the lazy clouds that floated slowly across it. He needed to be there, where he could think about it.

Not to mention, he now had to tell you about his whole story with Deku and prepare himself for your reaction to his adolescence.

He barely even thought twice about it as he walked swiftly out the door and into the sunlight, mostly forgetting about the lunch you were bringing him.

[tanadrin]

Khoda Station

For a long time after she joined the Project, Sirrek had found Tjumak to be a puzzle, the most difficult to understand of her colleagues. She took as read that you had to have pretty good reasons to want to risk defying the Archive’s most sacrosanct law, and also to spend half of every year out in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of kilometers from the nearest transport routes and thousands from the nearest settlements. For most of the people at the station, their motives were actually pretty simple. Koridek believed passionately in the work; so passionately that he was willing to break his most deeply held convictions about what it meant to be an Archivist. For him it was all about values. His desire to serve humanity ran deep, and that was what made him a good fit for the Archive. His desire to serve Paradise, well, that ran even deeper; it was the source of his desire to serve humanity, to protect their nascent colony, but also to violate an order that had been created decades before Sirrek was born, to prevent terrible bloodshed. Depending on how you looked at it, that made him a very bad archivist indeed.

Ardhat was also simple. She was a problem-solver. That wasn’t all of it, but it was most of it. Of course, she believed mightily, too, but Sirrek doubted anyone could believe in anything as strongly as Koridek did. But above all else, Ardhat wanted to solve the biggest problems she could find. That was what got her up in the mornings, and drove her forward. She was a puzzle-cracker, a code-breaker, a solution-seeker, a builder-of-systems. She would have been a fine architect, or a talented engineer, or a clever physicist. But what greater puzzle was there than the Great Record? What greater problem to solve could there be than resurrecting a lost world out of the most ancient memory of the past? Of building a whole new ecosystem, alongside and on top on alien to it that already existed? Sirrek was quite certain that Ardhat would die to protect the Project if it ever came to it, but in the meantime, she would live for its mysteries.

Sirrek? Well, introspection wasn’t her strong suit. But where Ardhat had a cordial indifference to authority and Koridek a deep but respectful complaint against it, Sirrek just hated being told what to do. And they had told her, you shall not be a biologist. Not in the way you want to be. You shall not undertake any part of the great work--for it will not begin in your lifetime. They had said to her, you shall leave Paradise fallow, at least for a human definition of the term. And so Sirrek hated them for that, hated them for deciding before she was born that all her talents and her ambition must be sacrificed in the name of politics, hated the religious zealots and the blind ideologues whose fledgeling war meant that it would be many lifetimes before the Paradise she dreamed of would come to be. She was compelled to disobey. That was what got her out of bed in the morning.

But Tjumak. There was a mystery. He affected it a little, Sirrek thought. He spent his days ensconced in the middle of his dark laboratory, like the heart of an animal, or the engine of a machine. He did not come and go, like Koridek. The dim light of the displays shone on the glossy exterior of his support apparatus. He had once had a survival suit, Koridek said, and had gone back and forth from the surface like most of the other Archivists, returning to Ammas Echor when the strain of surface living became too great. Archivists were not born for planetbound life; they were humanity as it lived between the stars, made for the long dreamlike time in the cold and dark, and for keeping the long memory of their people alive. How long did our ancestors travel from star to star? Sirrek had once asked her mother, when she was young. For countless ages, she had replied. Since the Garden was lost to us in the beginning of time.

A survival suit was meant to be a temporary thing, a way to endure the stresses of gravity and the immoderate temperatures of the surface. What, do you go naked in space? Sirrek had asked Koridek. Koridek laughed. No, he said. We still have to wear suits on the vessel, though they are much lighter. You see me only as a hulking, heavy thing in this armor. In microgravity, I am considered graceful; above the sky, I can dance. Why someone would exchange that for a planetbound prison, much less one where they could not leave the room they worked in, Sirrek struggled to guess. But that was what Tjumak had done. From the outside, he looked almost like a silly toy: a round, smooth metal body, topped with a round, smooth head on a short, flexible neck. His arms were more graceful, and the apparatus in which he set could turn this way and that to reach th various monitors and keyboards around him; but apparently much of the interface was actually inside the suit, which in Tjumak’s case was more of a chamber, one in which he floated in a carefully-formulated synthetic fluid. And if the power goes out? Sirrek had asked. He will be very annoyed until someone finds the switch for the backup generator, Koridek said.

Direct neural prosthetics like the Archivists used, and which Tjumak relied on for his work, were rare among the younger generations, so it was probably a less claustrophobic way of living than Sirrek imagined. And if he really had to, he probably could switch back to a survival suit. Like if they ever got caught, and had to evacuate the station. That was a possibility she did her best not to dwell on.

She got a little window into Tjumak’s world, or at least his thought process, when they spent several long weeks working on a section of the Great Record. It was a frustrating and exceedingly difficult task, and the missing portions that Sirrek needed amounted to only a handful of characters, but the Record was nearly impossible to work with directly. When she was little, her teachers had explained that the Great Record was a library of the genetic information of every animal and plant and little microscopic beastie that had ever lived in the Garden, the world humankind had come from. And when their most ancient ancestors, the ancestors of their unimaginably remote ancestors, had had to leave the Garden as exiles, they preserved the Record, and kept it safe, for hundreds of thousands of years.

That was almost, but not quite, entirely a lie. When she had started studying biology, with an eye to genetics and to endobotany specifically (back when she imagined that she might be permitted to do something with her training), she started learning about how the Great Record worked. It wasn’t just a record of DNA; that on its own would have been quite useless, she was assured. DNA was an important part of it, of course, nuclear and mitochondrial both, but only a small part. Rather, the Record had been compiled as an image of the shape of a living cell: it described actual genetic code, but also how DNA was formed, how proteins were folded, how DNA and RNA were transcribed, processes of methylation and copying, how mitosis and meiosis functioned, and so on and so forth, attempting to describe the metabolism of an ideal cell, one which contained within it the potential to embody almost any form of life to which humankind had once been related; and it was by reference to this elaborate, ideal lifeform that literally millions of other species, from single-celled bacteria that lived in the human gut to storybook leviathans, were described. And the reason, Sirrek was told, that the Record had been composed in this way was that, long long ago, their ancestors had once had the technology to use those reference descriptions directly. The heart of the Record was a terrible lacuna, a tool that had been so widespread, and so useful, that it had once been presumed it would never be lost.

Oh, fathers of my fathers and mothers of my mothers! Sirrek had thought. How far your children have fallen. The senior geneticists referred to this technology as the key to the universal cell; or just the key. What, exactly, it was and how it had functioned was hard to guess. It was related to other technologies they had that barely worked, and that they did not understand at all, like the ones the Archivists used to modify their genes and to improve their neural prosthetics. There were baseline humans who had been brought all the way from Rauk on the last journey, in sarcophagi that had preserved them between life and death. It was a form of the key that had brought them back to wholeness, and let them live out the rest of a natural lifespan. But it was a specialized version, a crippled and ghostly version. They did not have the true key; and they were working to rebuild it. Perhaps one day, many centuries from now, they would live up to the promise of those long-ago masters of the living world, and they would read forth out of the Record a whole teeming world, as had been intended.

But they didn’t need the key to start understanding the Record, and ordinary genetic engineering and cell manipulation techniques would serve to clone the most basic organisms recorded there. Of course, all of this was hampered by the fact that the Record was at both extremely terse, intending to encode an enormous amount of information in as small a space as possible, and maddeningly repetitive. It was not really one Record, but many; the collocation of multiple copies, in some places defective, and in others damaged. Later, totally uncomprehending generations had apparently lost all but the memory of the importance of the thing, and carefully copied what they did not understand into new forms. It was only in the glare of Rauk, millennia ago, that the Janese had finally understood what they had had in their grasp, and built it into the skeleton of Ammas Echor itself.

Understanding the Record had been the original purpose of the Archive, and in the long, slow journey to Paradise they had labored ceaselessly at their task. Still, it was slow work. And since their station did not have the benefit of access to either the Archive on Ammas Echor, or to all the latest work from investigators working on the surface, sometimes they had to work at it themselves. At Ardhat’s encouragement, Sirrek had been trying to get a handle on some of the plant species that, by their position in the Record, seemed to be relatively basal. Much of the work in unraveling that portion of the Archive had been done by others, and was well-known, but little attention had been paid to the bryophytes. Under the logic of the agreement between the Renewalists and the Instrumentalists, this didn’t matter. Actual resurrection of species was not slated to begin for nearly eighty years, and even then it would be confined to laboratories. But Sirrek wanted practical results. What she ideally wanted was trees, flowers, grasses, important primary producers that also occupied slightly different ecological niches from the xenophytes, and could be integrated alongside them. But mosses were step zero. Possibly even step negative one. All she needed was a single viable spore. In theory, everything she needed was in the Record, somewhere.

In their long, slow labor, the Archivists had painstakingly indexed the Record, but it was an immense of information, and one that was only partly understood. The language of the record, if it could be called that, was a sophisticated polyvalent writing system that could encode chemical formulae, the structure of molecules and proteins and organelles, and dipped in its most specific registers into the subatomic scale, to describe the precise interaction by which choloroplasts captured the light of the sun, to convert into energy; and at its most general, sketched a mathematical relationship between the populations of a predator and its prey. Yet for all that it said, it also left maddening amounts unsaid, details that were perhaps assumed by its creators to be common knowledge, or which simply could not be fit in.

“It’s almost gibberish,” Tjumak had observed dryly. “Almost.”

“Why do you think they made it in the first place?” Sirrek asked Tjumak. “Do you suppose they really thought the umpteenth children of their children would be able to make use of it?”

“I can only assume so. Hubris, perhaps, or merely an unfathomably acute case of optimism.”

“It had to have been made in the Garden, right?”

A small movement suggested a shrug from Tjumak. “To speculate on the historicity of our people before the last journey is to engage in theology as far as I can tell. Whatever the Garden once was, it is now more myth than fact.”

“Maybe,” said Sirrek, tapping her chin as she moved the same section of the Record back and forth on the display. The curling, two-dimensional network of shapes blurred together if you tried to take in too much of it at once, not to mention it was dispiriting. It was far easier to concentrate on the smallest legible piece, and work through it one symbol at a time. Tjumak peeked over her shoulder, and glanced at her notes.

“No, that’s not right,” he said. “That’s not a DNA sequence, it’s a protein sequence. Look, that’s a symbol for a folding geometry, in the corner.”

Sirrek muttered an impolite word and started backtracking.

“They can’t have made it during the Exile, anyway,” she said. “You can’t put millions of species on a generation ship. Even if most of them are beetles.”

“Perhaps not,” said Tjumak. “But what is an object such as this? It is a monument against ruin. If they made it in the Garden, they made it knowing its desolation was close at hand.”

“So you’re definitely in camp made-to-be-used.”

“I think… I think it doesn’t matter why they made it,” Tjumak said. He was scanning his own section of the text, which in real terms was inscribed about a meter and a half away from Sirrek’s on the same section of Ammas Echor’s structural frame; but which felt like it might as well have been on the other side of the planet. “The question is, why do we want to use it?”

“Hubris, and/or an unfathomably acute case of optimism?”

“It’s a reasonable question. We could have come to Paradise, gone down from the Ammas Echor, and made our living on this world as it is, with no attempt to change it besides the introduction of ourselves. For that matter, we could have stayed in orbit, bringing up such resources as we needed, air and water and soil, to make life there far more comfortable than it ever could have been on one of the airless or gasping worlds our ancestors lived their lives on, and left Paradise almost entirely unchanged. Yet when we arrived, we nearly fought a war against one another, not over whether to make use of the Record to resurrect the creatures of the Garden, but only how.”

“Do you think we should have considered the possibility?”

Tjumak leaned back from the display he was hunched over. The head of his support apparatus tilted up toward the ceiling, which was as close as he ever got to looking pensieve.

“I cannot honestly say yes. I’ve known space, Sirrek, real space. Not orbital microgravity, but the deepness beyond the summit of the sky. Some of my earliest memories are of the firing of Ammas Echor’s great engines, to turn our path inward toward the light below. Of the long, slow spiral down to the inner worlds of Kdjemmu. And even that emptiness was brighter and warmer by far than the great darkness between the stars that my mother and father were born into. When they were young, ever joule of energy was precious beyond reckoning, every drop of water or puff of air worth more than a human life. 

“The other worlds around this star, they’re airless, or formless giants, or scorching hot, or worse. And every world our ancestors ever visited, if the tales are true, from the Garden-which-was-lost to Usukuul-we-mourn, was as barren as them. I cannot imagine what suffering generation after generation endured to bring us here--and it would spit in the face of every soul that died on the journey not to bring Paradise to flower.”

“We will, Tjumak,” Sirrek said softly. She had never seen Tjumak speak so earnestly before. “And we will not ravage, and we will not burn. And one day we will call our brothers and sisters out of the darkness to live with us again.” The rhythm of the ancient litanies came back to her smoothly. Her parents had not been religious, but her grandmother had been. She had recited the litanies to Sirrek when she was small, a soothing voice to sleep to.

“Will they thank us?”

“The other Exiles?”

Tjumak shook his head, then pointed at his display. “No. The ghosts we’re going to call up.”

“What do you mean?” Sirrek asked, perplexed.

Tjumak swiveled in place to another display, and tapped a few keys on the panel next to it. The image of another part of the Record appeared, this one displayed alongside long sections of plain text. There were ghostly outlines of various creatures superimposed on it and displayed alongside it, gracile things with four legs and taut muscles, and things with sharp teeth and long claws.

“This part of the Record was indexed four generations ago, and pretty well translated,” Tjumak said. “It’s an unusual one--it’s organized by relationship between constituent elements, not by phylogeny. It’s probably from a lesser Record that was only integrated into the whole later.”

“What are they?”

“Animals. Warm-blooded, furry, placental. Very much like us, in some ways, but quadrupedal. And, to judge by the annotations, quick. Well-muscled. Herbivorous and carnivorous.”

“One is predator, and one is prey?”

“Likely.”

Sirrek had that dark feeling again, the one that was tinged with despair. Sometimes it came up when she looked at too much of the Record at once, or when she spent too long thinking about the aching gulfs of time that they hoped to bridge with the Project. The feeling that it was too much--too much for her, too much for anyone, too much for innumerable lifetimes.

“We’re a long way from placental mammals, Tjumak.”

“Yes. But we’ll get there one day. I don’t doubt that. What I wonder is, what would they say? If we could ask them. And, you know, they could talk.”

“I don’t think there’s anything alive that doesn’t want to live.”

“Ah, but they are not alive. Not right now. It will be us who make them live, if we choose to. And consider, my friend, what that will mean. For some, they will be the prey. The hunted. The fearful. The one whose existence ends with blood and pain and screaming. And others, they will be the predator. Hungry, ever-hunting, fearing that one day their source of food will move beyond the hills, or that a harsh winter will kill them all, and leave the hunter to starve.”

“You think it’s not a life worth living?”

“Would you want to live such a life?”

Sirrek shook her head. “It’s not a coherent question. Does the ferngrass or the swarmbug want to live? The ferngrass can’t react to external stimuli at all, and the swarmbug has six neurons wired in sequence--basically glorified clockwork that tells it when to fly and when to land, and when to lay eggs. There are more complicated xenozoa in Paradise, but they aren’t anything like us, either. And these mammals? Maybe they’ll be able to feel pain, and hunger, and a kind of fear in the moment--but ‘life worth living’ is a human concept. I’m not sure it applies.”

“Surely it must. Even to creatures without language, without tool use, without abstract thought. If they can suffer and feel joy, there is a place where suffering outweighs joy, however you favor one side of the equation over the other. Someone that brought a child into the world, knowing their whole life would be without joy and full of suffering, would be cruel indeed.”

“Are you really proposing we put the entire Project on hold to decide if the creatures we bring back might suffer too much for the Project to be worth it?”

“Just humor me for a bit.”

“All right, fine. A parent has moral responsibility for their child’s welfare.”

“Unless and until we discover something wiser than us already living here, we have moral responsibility for this world.”

“And it would be cruel of us to go out of our way to inflict suffering on the things living in it. You don’t see me pulling the wings off swarmbugs. But that moral responsibility only goes so far, because we can’t impose human values without limit onto things which live very different existences from us.”

“Not so different, these beasts here,” Tjumak said, tapping the display.

“Different enough. Different enough that in order to even begin to pose the question of whether their life was worth living, you would have to alter them mind and body until they were far more human than anything else. If you cannot pose the question without destroying the thing you propose to investigate, it is a bad question.”

Tjumak tilted his head in what Sirrek had come to recognize as the sign of a smile somewhere on the face she could not see. But he didn’t seem ready to drop the argument yet.

“Aren’t all values human values in the end? Unless you believe in a creating power with the authority to order the ethical universe by its own whim, which seems rather like a self-contradicting idea to me. The only values we have to judge the world by are human values. They’re limited tools, but they’re the best ones available. So if a human could have a life not worth living, so could an animal, by the only standard we have available to judge.”

“I don’t know if I buy that,” Sirrek said. “But even so: everything that lives desires to live. If you could bring one of those beasts back, and then you tried to hurt or kill it, it would run away. There’s something like volition there, and as far as I can tell, a vote in the ‘let me live!’ direction.”

“Hardly a spirited defense of the idea, though!” Tjumak said. “A mere stimulus response, maybe.”

“You can’t have it both ways. You can’t say a beast’s volition matters if it doesn’t want to suffer, but doesn’t matter if it wants to live. It’s not human, so you can’t ask the question as you would to a human, or to another creature capable of abstract thought, and in the only way it knows how to tell you, it tells you it wants to live. And, presumably, do other things. Eat. Run. Have babies. You might not let it do all those things. You certainly don’t have to let it eat you. But if the creature’s experience of the world matters at all, its desires must matter in some sense, too.”

“There’s always the option of just leaving out the carnivores, you know,” Tjumak said. “After all, your moss here doesn’t feel pain. Probably.”

Sirrek smiled. “I really hope not. And maybe that is an option. Or maybe we don’t know enough. Maybe the carnivores are as essential to the herbivores as the herbivores are to them, in some way we haven’t seen. I think a certain expansive humility is necessary when poking at these questions.”

“Humility. Humility!” Tjumak roared with mock outrage. “Expansive humility, says the woman who opposes the Archive and the consensus of the whole world, and seeks to resurrect an ancient biosphere from the dead! While remaking an alien one to boot!”

“You can be ambitious and humble at the same time,” Sirrek said. “It just means you set your sights high, but aren’t surprised when you fuck everything up.”

Tjumak laughed sharply. “You’re a good sparring partner,” he said. “Koridek always gets annoyed with me when I try to start an argument, and Ardhat has learned to ignore me. It’s good to have a new face around.”

And for the rest of the evening, that’s all Sirrek thought their conversation was--a verbal wrestling match for Tjumak, a way for him to sharpen his wits, and get to know Sirrek at the same time. But later that night, as she was brewing a cup of bitterstalk tea to take to bed with her, she saw a dull glow from Tjumak’s lab, when his monitors were usually all dark, and he was asleep. She went to the door, thinking to say goodnight, but paused when she got there. His back was turned to her, and he was looking at the image on his monitor, the one that showed the ghostly outline of runners and hunters, of the ones that long ago had died, and the ones that long ago had killed. He seemed to be staring at it, intently, one finger tapping slowly on the side of the display.

As she lay in bed waiting for sleep to overtake her, it occurred to her that Tjumak’s cynicism was just as much a kind of protection as his support equipment. It was his armor against the world, and the fears of his own heart. She didn’t doubt his commitment to the project. She did not doubt the commitment of a man who had exiled himself indefinitely to the loneliest place in the world. But he understood, perhaps, that he was responsible for the world he hoped to create. Maybe it was right that it should keep them all up at night from time to time.

[whereflowersbloom]

Sweet sin.

She sensed his presence in her vicinity before he actually approaches her, the way she always has ever since she locked her eyes on him. Raven detected a shift in the air and then he is at her back, her skin immediately feels him breathing on her long neck. Her shoulders sag in relief but she does not dare turn around, in case it will shatter everything.

There is something different about him. But then again, she supposed there is something different about them now as well. "Raven” her breath hitches as he pronounces her name like a prayer, quietly and her eyes fill inexplicably. There are suddenly a thousand things to tell him, as there always is when they spend time apart. And it had been an unconscionably long time for her liking.

He abruptly grabbed her tiny hand to pull her closer to him and she exhaled. "Brother in law.”

The soft exhale through his nose indicates his arrogant smile. They stand there completely still, as if making sure the other is truly there before Jason shifts his weight from one foot to the other and bends his head to speak to directly to her small ear. “Could you get away tonight?" Jason whispered eagerly, breath hot against her throat. She so many questions but realized it is not the time, and they have to be careful, there’s no handmaidens or servants around fortunately, but one must be wary at all times, so she swallowed hard and nodded instead.

There is a window in the room, facing the setting sun. It bathes the room in golden light, seemingly setting her dark hair on shining like night sky. The light makes her skin look luminescent, soft and playful and perfect. And he wished they were alone, to let his hands and lips roam freely the smooth skin he has kissed innumerable times, yet he couldn’t get enough. He can’t help it as his left hand settle on her waist discreetly, pulling her closer. His thumb grazes the underside of her breast, because he is wicked and can’t think to stop himself. She silently removes his hand from the side of her breast, and his eyes spot the exquisite gold band in her ring finger, reminding him at the eyes of the world she was not his. He knitted his brows instinctively, in frustration, wild anger.

Wide dark blue eyes, almost violet, those enigmatic orbs he adores lock with his, and he can tell the exact moment when comprehension settles in, when she understands just how much he hates being forced to share her with his own brother. He suddenly feels he’s too greedy, burdening her with this knowledge. But he wants her like no other, and she was belonged to him in ways his brother would never have her.

“Come to my room when your husband is asleep, little bird.” He waited for her to nod again, subtly glancing at the corners in case there’s a spy or unwanted witness and then he is gone in an instant. They couldn’t let anyone suspect. She held in the gasp that almost escapes her mouth when he is no longer pressed against her back, pushes down the urge to whirl around and run after him and profess her longing for him all those weeks he was gone. Raven Wayne stands tall, looks down the corridor for her husband. Richard was too concentrated reading a book when he half consciously catches her eye, smiling at her immediately. Sweet and distant Richard never said a word about her close relationship with his younger brother. Jason.

~~~

Jason couldn’t stay anymore, having her so close in proximity, yet so very far away, left Jason filled with something like despair. Suddenly, he couldn’t bear to watch her anymore. He ached to touch her, publicly claim her as his. It had been so long, and yet the memory of her under his fingers occupied his every thought.

Contrary to popular belief, Jason Wayne was not accustomed to sharing the bed of beautiful women. Not the whole night at least.

Being a loyal customer to the finest brothels in Rome, he had learned that money only granted you a certain amount of time and services and cuddling your beloved of the night in the aftermath of lovemaking wasn't one of them. Not when she was married to your older brother. There had been other women, of course, before her, the world wasn't divided between noble ladies and whores, after all. But Jason had never spent the entire night through the morning with one of his conquests. There had been kisses, primitive passion, and many goodbyes. He was a warrior of the nation. But there was no other like her. His little Raven. She was different in a very unique way.

He wasn’t granted the privilege to spend lazy mornings with his secret lover, explore her body until he was terribly exhausted and make her scream his name until there was no doubt she was only his. That wasted honorable and admirable Richard’s right. It makes his skin burn with anger, blood rising to the surface. His hand itches towards his sword, closer every second, to cut anyone who was close enough neck and he decided training with Timothy outside for most of the day, would relieve some pressure, to avoid the house and the people within it. Specifically his brother and wife together.

~~~

Later that night after welcoming his brother in law back. Raven slides carefully out from under the white sheets, not glancing at the husband she is leaving in his bed alone. Their bed, she reminder herself. No, she thinks sternly, its his. There is a moment when she paused, almost turns to look at Richard with guilt and regret. Sweet and kindhearted Richard, who smiled cheerfully whenever she walked into a room and kissed her tenderly as if she was made of glass. In that moment, she considers what her life has become, what she has become, and wonders what is going to come next. If only she had married Jason, but her betrothal had been decided before he came back from France, before they had time to suggest a different suitor. Her eyes flutter closed, begging one day God forgives her for her adulterous sins. She leaves in the silence of the moonlight. In minutes, she’s at the massive wooden door of his bedroom. Their bedroom she said in her mind.

“I do not think I was followed.” she admitted nervous even after numerous nocturnal encounters. She finds herself unease somehow, unable to determine why exactly. Her lover seemed different, more serious, as if he had matured while he was away from her. Raven remembers the young boy he was once dressed in red tackling her to the ground playfully, childhood playmates, eyes still full of hope and naivety. The promise of a future they could choose a partner, no worries or concerns for political marriages or brutal and devastating wars. She had a spouse now. His brother.

There is a moment of silence before he sighed “Its not the first. I trust you were careful enough, as always.” He made a gesture inviting her to sit beside him with his open arms. She obliges, her mind imagining the things they would do in that bed, noting how his gaze never leaves her, drinking her up as she is drinking him. They say nothing for minutes. Leaning in, Raven kissed his cheek affectionately and his hand tightened on her hip possesively.

She saw the shudder in his throat as he swallowed. He tilted his head down, towards hers, until their foreheads leaned together and she could feel his nose to the side of hers, his breath on her mouth. That was not new, either, but nevertheless something in her belly fluttered after being weeks apart. “Did you miss me sweetheart?” He rasped, and the crack in his voice stirs her stomach and she clings to his neck like it’s the only thing she can hold onto, before he leaves for a battle or under his father’s command.

Raven gave a solemn nod and set her hands on his broad shoulder. She dutifully closed her eyes, when he kissed her slowly but with ardor at the same time, and she kissed back giving into the pleasure of his mouth, feeling his lips give way just a little under the pressure. Excitement burned through her veins once more, to be in her beloved’s arms once again. She tried to mimic the slow press of his lips, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Her heart was pounding. Then his thumb ran down her throat, almost to her collarbone, and Raven gasped against his mouth. “As always, my love.”

“You’re playing with Fire, sister in law.” He muttered smirking at her mischievously. He felt fever mad with endless want for her. His skin must be as warm as hers. Raven burning him up, both of them burning each other up.

“Then burn me with your touch, Jason.” She whispered with heat and desire, pressing a hand to his solid chest. “I never wanted his heart, I wanted yours.” Forgive me Richard for I am falling into sin again with your brother. But I cannot say wholeheartedly I regret it, nonetheless.

@ravenfan1242 @niahti I blame youuuuuu 🙈😂😂😂

Sneak peek 👀👀👀👀 🙈🙈🙈

[buginateacup]

@dalniente I’m making a new post for this

So based off our previous conversation I’m reposting this thing separately because I went for a walk and words started percolating and now I have three pages written already and there would be SO MUCH PINING. Because of course they cant be married they just need to get an annulment there’s no way this could ever, would ever work between them...right?

Original idea below based on the idea that Roxanne bills Megamind for destroyed shoes and clothing for the last seven years

Just Megamind looking over this list Roxanne’s presented him with and just going “Minion fetch the piggy bank!” and just smashing it open to hand her a diamond or something! And then being like, “Wait no that ones flawed you need something better...aha!” and hands her a better diamond on a ring instead (my brain escalates these things. Its what it does) and Roxanne just boggles and throws it back at him shouting “I wanted to get my shoes replaced not for you to ask me to marry you!”

“I wasn’t asking you to marry me!” Megamind did not think this through he’s panicking and Roxanne is looking furious and elsewhere in Metro Wayne Scott’s superhearing just heard the words “Marry me” and yes finally things are happening its about time.

“Well good!” Roxanne should not open her big mouth when she’s angry this is utterly humiliating why did she even mention marriage of course he wasn't proposing he doesn't even like her. This was the worst idea ever she just wanted to not have to worry about the blisters from breaking in another pair of shoes when she’d rather pay attention to the giant spiderbot or talk to him about how the brain-bots AI works.

“No. Not good! Not good at all!” You handed her a ring you mega-idiot what else would she think! This is nothing like the occasional hours weeks years of daydreams he’s absolutely never had ever in his life that she would say yes. That she would ever want to marry him. This is the worst this is the absolute worst “As if that’s the kind of ring I’d ever propose to you with!”

“EXACTL- wait what?” He’s thought about a ring? He’s thought about a ring specifically for her? That is not a normal thing. That is something people only consider when things get really serious. Why has he thought about a ring for her?

“What?” You just...keep making it worse for yourself don’t you Megamind. “Of course I wouldn’t propose to you with some possibly cursed ring! You deserve sapphires as blue as your eyes!”

“And you deserve emeralds to match yours!”  Oh my god Roxanne shut up shut up shut up, “ Why are you giving me a cursed ring!”

“Possibly! Possibly cursed!” Ahahahahaha help oh evil gods help, “Any ring I did propose to you with would be 100% not cursed! Emerald cut sapphire in a platinum band framed by baguette cut diamonds!”

“See now that sounds like a ring I would be happy to accept!” Stop talking Roxanne please, please try and get out of this with some shred of dignity left.

“Fantastic! I’ll make it for you tonight!” Oh no.

“Wonderful! I cant wait to wear it!” Oh fuck.

“Brilliant! Are we engaged now?” Of all the ways Megamind’s plans have backfired over the years he never imagined an outcome like this...

“Yes! I don’t know!...I guess? Sure! Fine!” Roxanne wonders if this is what it feels like when one of his plans goes awry...

And then we have two options, the first where the shouting continues...

“Thank the evil gods because I have been in love with you for years!” and Megamind storms towards Roxanne and pulls her into his arms

“Well good because I love you too!” and she wraps her arms around him and...

well...

turns out billing your supervillain for damages is a great idea after all.

And the Second which is much funnier...

They are not engaged. Definitely not. Today has just been a shared hallucination and they are going to go home and never speak of this again.

And this is about to get really funny or really terrible but they’ve finally stopped shouting at each other and they’re just looking at one another and Roxanne sort of sways and Megamind sort of sways and...

And Minion is suddenly there hugging them both and is just so ecstatic that neither of them have the heart to tell him that its all a big misunderstanding (is it?) and they’re not really engaged (are they?) but sure he can make Roxanne’s dress so they can get him out of the room for ten minutes while they actually work out how to tell him this was a mistake....

And then Metro Man flies in like “I’m so happy you two crazy kids finally worked this out!” And Megamind and Roxanne are both just...freaking and Wayne is going on and on about how much he wants to help plan the wedding and Roxanne says the first thing she can think of to not get roped into a Scott Family Event with a capital E and blurts out “We’re eloping!”

“We are? I mean yes! We are! Absolutely!“ Megamind agrees. They can get in the invisible car and just drive until they figure this out or until they run off a cliff whichever will be easier

(the cliff is currently winning)

“Oh great!” says the oblivious Wayne Scott who is just so, so happy for these two, “I’ll fly you down to Vegas right now!”

And he does. With Megamind and Roxanne in one arm and Minion in the other and Roxanne and Megamind have no way of communicating without the others catching on so they are just exchanging these panicked glances and then blushing because holy fuck why is this happening this was not the plan and before they know it they’re standing in front of an Elvis impersonator saying “I do” and Minion is throwing confetti shaped like brain-bots and Wayne is crying and Megamind and Roxanne managed to get a whole five minutes to themselves before the wedding to be like “Okay this is insane but we just get divorced later right? How hard can it be? We’re a damsel and super-villain no one will be surprised when it doesn't work out” (no matter how much they each privately might want it to).

That kiss though...that is really something.

They share a honeymoon suite with the works (courtesy of Wayne). Flowers, chocolate, champagne, his n hers bathrobes. It is extremely awkward. (except the bit I just wrote with body chocolate which, omg) There is only one bed and it is the size of a small continent and they still wind up accidentally tangled together the next morning.

But its fine. Its absolutely fine. There’s a divorce register in the hotel lobby exactly for these kind of situations. No one is even going to know.

Except Wayne flies back to Metro with Minion and they make a big delighted announcement so when Megamind and Roxanne do show back up (the Divorce register opens late on Sundays and they had to check out by ten. The universe really must have it in for them or something). The whole city knows.

And is actually pretty happy for them.

Apparently there had been a pool.

(Carlos, Roxanne’s doorman, won if you’re interested)

Okay fine, they can pretend for a while. Figure out some way for Megamind to go back to villainy and for Roxanne to go back to being kidnapped. This isn’t going to backfire at all.

Only Roxanne goes back to her apartment (alone) to have the panic attack she’s been pushing back for the last 36 hours, to find removalists on site and a representative from the city explaining seeing as she’s no longer the Metro City damsel she’s not entitled to remain in her lovely open living giant balcony apartment she’s been living in for the last seven years that the city has been subsidising her rent on.

Roxanne’s apartment is was very nice and extremely expensive. More than she can afford on her own. So she puts her stuff in storage, packs a bag and hunts down the Evil Lair. And she walks in like “Hi Husband. I live here now I guess.” (please don’t throw me out can I stay? Can I stay forever?)

And Megamind who has been contemplating cutting off his own finger rather than trying to remove the ring he’s still wearing, sees her walking in with a bag, still wearing that awful (possibly cursed) ring and just...

Right.

Okay then.

Hi wife, please stay and never leave but of course we cant be married what were we thinking and now we have to keep this a secret from Minion except we live with Minion and he’s going to be very concerned if you ask for a separate bedroom and I guess I’m a superhero now which means you’ll be getting kidnapped by other villains and that is NOT OKAY AT ALL and there will definitely be a “That’s my wife!” moment and no one understands why I look so absolutely gobsmacked when you kiss me on live tv after I rescue you and you tell me you love me but oh of course it was for the cameras it wasn't real

SO MUCH ANGST AND PINING

...

...

This is a problem they can solve...somehow

Except now they’re stuck married and living together and all of Megamind’s uncles are asking when he’s going to bring their new niece in law to visit. and there is so much PINING because they each think the other doesn't want to be married except they sorta want to and ugh...

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

Roxanne woke up in the middle of the bed, one leg twisted around someone else’s and the taste of chocolate still in her mouth.

This is not her bed.

Did she hook up with someone?

There is someone snuggled close behind her breathing softly. She can feel a lean chest bare against her back and is that a goatee pressed against her shoulder? 

Roxanne opened her eyes and looked down blearily. there was an arm around her waist, pulling her back against the body behind her. She has her fingers tangled in the other persons hand. There's something about the arm. She squinted in the early morning light.

Its blue

Oh

Well

That’s okay that’s just Megamind then. Roxanne closed her eyes and snuggled backwards a little. The arm around her waist tightened and the lips on her shoulder pressed a sleepy kiss against her skin.

...Wait

That's Megamind.

Roxanne's eyes shot open. She pulled her hand and the one she was holding up to the light. Definitely blue. Long fingers and square palms and definitely not human. 

And there are rings

There is one ceramic zirconium band in dark grey and a large (possibly cursed) diamond ring on the ring fingers of each of their hands.

Why is she in bed with Megamind and why are there rings and oh god she just remembered everything.

Very carefully she laid their joined hands back over her waist and hoped desperately that she can just fall asleep again and not deal with this.

She can feel the moment Megamind wakes up. A whole body shudder goes through him from his feel up to his head and he shakes into full alertness.

"Oh evil gods"

She felt him roll onto his back and press his hands over his face. But her hand is still tangled in his so he winds up pulling her on top of him instead.

And Roxanne panics and flails and rolls over as well until she is lying on top of

...her husband

He's her husband.

He's her husband and he's awake and she's awake and he's looking up at her with brilliant green eyes the colour of emeralds and she sees the recognition dawning and she wants to kiss him, wants to say "hi", wants to say "want to stay married?", wants to say "what if this wasn't a mistake?" but what comes out is "We should get divorced."

[oh-obrien]

dylan imagine where u guys meet on the set of a movie and during press you guys flirt and fall in love

Thank you anon for sliding into my inbox and I hope you like this!!!

This is like 2.5k??

“So obviously you two came into the movie with different skill sets,” the interviewer pointed out. Dylan looked over at you and laughed, his cheeks puffing up while he did. You sighed and rolled your eyes, pushing his shoulder while he tried to hide his smile with his hand.

“We can say it,” you sat up a little straighter in your seat, “I had never acted a day in my life before I stepped on to that set,” you laughed. “I felt grossly inexperienced you know?” You smiled at the interviewer. “So it’s not something I mind talking about.”

Dylan had stated to drum his fingers on the arm of his chair while he watched you speak. “Yeah I’ve kind of been like her coach,” he tried not to laugh again while he spoke. Dylan knew damn well he had been anything but a coach to you throughout the time you worked on your movie together.

“He has not, he’s been a terrible influence,” you corrected him. Dylan opened his mouth in mock offense which caused you to fall into a fit of giggles. “I’m so sorry!” You looked at the interviewer who watched the two of you laugh at each other. “We’re absolutely terrible together.”

“Oh no it’s fine!” She told the two of you, “so looking at that, the lack of experience on your part, and Dylan’s professional experience. What was the casting process like for both of you?” You looked to Dylan and motioned for him to go first. He did the jester back at you and you gave him an unamused glare, insisting that he go first.

He held his hands up in mock surrender before running his hand over the stubble growing on his face. “Uhh, for me it was pretty standard,” he looked over to you. “I auditioned and they called me back and asked if I would come in and do a second audition with this minx,” he looked at you.

“Oh so you were cast first?” The interviewer asked looking at you.

You nodded, “yeah I think I was cast almost two months before he did his second audition?”

Dylan nodded at your statement before he continued speaking. “They liked my stuff from American Assassin, and yeah I booked it after that. Her story,” he let out a long sigh, “much more interesting.”

The interviewer looked at you and Dylan motioned for you to speak. “So obviously it’s a action-ey, secret operative, intense and physically demanding movie,” you laughed. “And they contacted me first if I’m being honest.” You smiled. You were proud to say that the director and casting agents had approached you, someone who had never acted a day in their life, first.

“She’s brushing it under the rug,” Dylan held both his hands up around his mouth and fake whispered the words.

“Dylan,” you groaned, not looking for the attention he wanted you to get.

He looked at you with a straight face and then back to the interviewer. “She’s not telling you about all her hidden talents that got her cast.” He said it very matter of factly.

“Oh hidden talents?” The interviewer urged you to share the details, like she didn’t already know. Everyone who walked into that room knew your back story, but made you share it anyway. You sighed and tucked your fingers into the belt loops on your jeans before shrugging.

“So my dad’s a retired Navy SEAL, which should be enough explanation,” you laughed lightly.

“Her dad’s scary,” Dylan whispered again.

You kicked his shin with your heeled timberlands, “my dad isn’t scary,” you replied. “But he had me do competitive shooting when I was younger. I was ranked internationally from the time I was like six or seven onwards.”

The interviewer set her cards down flat on her crossed legs. “Oh so you really knew what you were doing going into this?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “I had actually just finished my undergrad degree and I planned on taking a gap year to compete more before I went to law school. But then they contacted me about the role, and I had been a very hard no at first if I’m being honest.”

That statement was a true one. You had just finished your undergraduate degree and wanted to take a gap year to wrap up your career on the competitive shooting circuit for a few years before you went to law school the following fall. When you had received an email directly from the director of the movie, saying that he had been interested in speaking with you, you had originally laughed it off as a well played prank by some internet troll. After showing your dad the email and him confirming where it came from, he urged you to contact the man.

Upon contacting the director he had told you that he was interested in putting you in the role because of your tactical experience and weaponry knowledge. He had stumbled across a few of your competition videos when they were doing research for the part. Aftering watching more and more of your videos and interviews from different competitions, much of the higher up production and writing staff thought you would fit the role perfectly.

After he had sent the script over to you and you read it the first time, you had initially been a hard no for the part. Your co-star, whoever it would be, would also be your romantic interest in the movie and you hadn’t really ever had a serious relationship before. You didn’t know how you were supposed to pull off an on screen relationship, let alone learn a script and all the other mechanisms of acting with zero experience. After meeting the director for lunch and a couple of the other producers for the movie they had talked you through your worries and convinced you to at least audition.

“So after my first audition they called me and asked if I wanted to roll and yeah, law school got pushed off another couple years,” you laughed looking over at Dylan. The movie had been intended to be a series of films, ones that you and Dylan would continue to star in together, but you weren’t quite sure if you wanted to continue your acting career yet.

“She’s scary,” Dylan pointed at you. “Like the first day on set she was already correcting me,” he looked over at you this time. “We met before that obviously, training and all that stuff, but she has absolutely no problem telling me what I’m doing wrong. I was honestly shocked at first.”

You waved your hand to cut him off, “so we all know this is a military, secret operative, that kind of movie. And the two of us are supposed to be very highly trained members of the military and first day on set and this guy is holding the prop gun wrong. He had his thumb up by the part that slides back, the top piece,” you tried to demonstrate with your hands, not wanting to use specific terminology and confuse anyone either. “If that had been real he would have taken his thumb off so,” you shrugged.

“Okay well I didn’t know that then,” he glared at you.

You sighed at his antics and turned back to the interviewer. “Sorry about him, I think they accidentally gave him coffee this morning or something,” you rolled your eyes. Dylan grabbed the rubber band that had been on your wrist and snapped it against your skin making you pinch his arm hair.

“Well, obviously you two have good chemistry together,” she spoke. You and Dylan looked between each other and you crinkled your nose in mock disgust at him. “Oh yeah, fantastic chemistry,” she said and you tried to stop yourself from laughing. “How did you two develop that? Because obviously this film had its share of intimate scenes.”

You looked at Dylan and he motioned for you to speak first, clasping his hands together while he waited for your answer. “Uhh so I’m gonna start this one by saying I learned Dylan’s young acting career was basically just sexual tension and kissing girls. So I assumed he’d know what to do?” You bit your lip knowing it would get a reaction from him.

“Teen wolf was not just about sex, and I think Thomas was like asexual!” He quickly shot back. You rolled your eyes in response before waiting for him to take the lead. “And I feel like we clicked pretty naturally, I couldn’t speak for her on that one though, obviously.”

You looked at Dylan before sighing. “Okay so I can honestly tell you before this movie I had never really made out with a guy,” you laughed. “So we got to set the first day we were shooting a scene like that, it probably had been like three weeks into shooting?” You looked over to Dylan who nodded. “And our director was like ‘just let it come naturally’ and it wouldn’t come naturally!” You laughed feeling your face heat up.

“But here’s where it gets good,” Dylan held a finger up and sat up straighter while he interrupted. “So on that first day filming a kissing scene our director made us stop filming and sent us to my trailer to figure out how to make out more naturally,” he laughed a little bit while you groaned into your hands at the memory.

You rolled your head back and groaned at the memory. “But we didn’t, and that’s the funny part. We went to his trailer and like made lunch, and when we got back apparently we were experts at it.” You shrugged. You remembered that day very well, it had been one of your favorite days of filming, not because of the kissing, but because it proved just how on the same wavelength you and Dylan were.

“So then were the, other,” the interviewer trailed off a little bit, “intimate scenes hard to film too?” You wanted to crawl up in a ball in the corner when you heard that question, and you also knew Dylan understood how you felt. You looked over to him and gave your best pout, hoping that he would take the lead on the question.

Dylan ran a hand over his stubble again and pulled on his chin, “the sex scenes?” You never understood how he was so open about it, but you were glad he was comfortable with himself. “They weren’t hard,” he looked over at you after his terrible joke and you rolled your eyes while he threw you an over the top wink, “to film,” he finished.

“Yeah those days on set you just kind of have to show up and do it, not really think about it.” You agreed. “Dylan’s like, crazy secure in himself, or at least when we were filming those scenes he made it felt like he was secure, it put me at ease,” you loved over and gave him a small smile that he returned. “I’m nervous for when we fly out to New York tomorrow and my parents are at that premier,” you laughed lightly. “Like that has to be so awkward,” you groaned, “I just don’t even know how to handle it.”

Dylan turned to you and rested a hand on your leg. “Professionally. We are professionals,” he said in a funny accent, “we handle it professionally.” You laughed lightly before the interviewer thanked the two of you for your time and you and Dylan stood up to shake her hand before she left.

“Is that the last interview for the day?” You asked Dylan who looked to your PR people who were in the room with you. They nodded and you let out a long sigh before pulling your phone out of your jeans pocket, thankful you were able to have some downtime.

Dylan leaned over you to see the time on your phone and noticed you had a few hours before you needed to start getting ready for the premier later that night. “You wanna order take out at my place?” He asked. “We’re getting ready there anyway.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you smiled and collected your things before waving to your director, who was still finishing interviews, on your way out. You and Dylan walked out from the hotel ballroom that press was going on in and made your way to the back entrance where you knew your car would be waiting. Dylan held the door open for you and allowed you to slip out of the building first, him following close behind you.

You opened the door on the black SUV that had been waiting for the two of you and slipped in, sliding to the other side so Dylan could climb in behind you. “You’ve been handling all of this really well,” he looked over to where you were gazing out the window.

“I’m starting to get run down, if I’m being honest,” you turned to face him. “Is that like normal?” You leaned your head against the door, watching Dylan while he turned to more comfortably face you.

He sighed before lifting his sun glasses up, “it’s normal, yeah.” he nodded with a light frown. “It just sucks y’know? You’re just so not used to all of this and I hate that it's affecting you.” You watched his eyes soften as you rested your legs across his lap. The two of you had gotten more physically comfortable with each other during filming and it wasn’t unusual for other actors on set to find you two napping together somewhere between takes.

“Well,” you mumbled, “at least I have a pretty good teacher to get me through all of it right?” You asked Dylan with a smile. He placed his hand on your shin and started rubbing light circles into your skin while he offered you a smile back.

“Whatever to help make you most comfortable through all of this,” he shrugged while the car pulled up outside his house. You both thanked the driver while you climbed out and Dylan offered you a hand once he had stepped onto the pavement to make sure you wouldn’t trip getting out. You smiled and held on to his hand while you walked to his front door, Dylan punched his key code into the door and pushed it open, pulling you in after him.

He shut the door and let out a deep sigh of relief while setting his keys down in the bowl next to his door. “I just- I need to go put sweatpants on and order crappy food and relax for a few hours,” he mumbled. You watched as he undid his belt and pulled it out of the loops in one swift motion, setting it on the back of his couch. “Oh god,” he turned back around to face you, “I’m sorry. Do you even have anything more comfortable to change into?” He looked over your outside while you walked closer to him, resting your hands on his forearms.

“You need to relax,” you mumbled, “you’re very keyed up today.” You felt his muscles relax under your grip and he let out a long sigh. “No I don’t have anything else to change into but it’s fine,” you let go of his arms and stepped away. “Here,” he held out his hand for you to take again. You gripped it and felt his fingers close around yours as he pulled you in the direction of his bedroom.

Once inside you watched him open a drawer and pull out two pairs of gray sweatpants. He held a pair out to you and slung the other over his shoulder and started to undo the button on his khakis. You felt your face heating up and turned away, going to walk towards the bathroom when Dylan calling your name got your attention. “I’ve had on screen sex with you,” he laughed lightly, “you don’t have to be uncomfortab;e changing in front of me.” He pulled the sweatpants over his legs.

You sighed and sat down on his bed, bending down to unlace your timberlands before discarding them in the middle of his floor. You stood up and felt Dylan’s eyes on you and turned around to face him.

“What’s that about?” You asked while you unbutton your jeans. You saw Dylan swallow thickly while you slid down your zipper, his eyes staying locked with yours while you did. You watched as his eyes trailed down your body, stopping where he saw your fingers hooked into your belt loops.

He stepped closer to you and hooked his fingers into the same loops as yours, pulling you closer to him. “Well you see,” he breathed out, “I worked on a movie with this really, really attractive girl.” He looked up into yours eyes again. “And I’ve wanted to make a move for months now but haven’t been able to,” his eyes flickered down to your lips. “But it's getting really, really hard not to,” his nose was almost brushing against yours now.

“Well,” you mumbled, “maybe you should make a move and see what happens.” Dylan leaned forward and pushed his lips against yours, the familiar feeling rushing through your body. You had kissed Dylan enough to know he was good at it, but until now there had been nothing attached to it.

Once you pulled back to catch your breath Dyaln smiled, “thank god,” he laughed resting his forehead against yours. “I’ve been dying to do that for months.”

[werevulvi]

Would you like to explain the nordic model of prostitution? Like what is it, why you dislike it and how it compares to the australian?

Uh, this is a big question, and it was a while ago I read up on those two models. So I had to sit with it for a moment before conjuring up a reply. I don’t know exactly what kinda info you wanted here, so I’ll just overwhelm you with everything I’ve got! Which... isn’t all that much, all things considered. I really don’t have any sorta energy to start digging for sources of it now or anytime soon, but I can ramble on a bit about my past findings and the conclusions that they led me to:

First off, what those models of prostitution are: are essentially sex industry laws that regulate buying and selling of any kinds of sexual services. They're what decide whether it's legal or not to sell/buy and to what extent you can legally do what, in regards to brothels, porn, being your own boss, etc. America has a completely different system of such laws, detached from both the Nordic and the Australian, which is probably one of the most dangerous such systems of laws, for the prostitutes. Although I'm not like SUPER familiar with its exact laws and regulations, I pretty sure it's illegal to sell sex there, which makes it very risky for those who do. In the Nordic model it's legal to sell (but with quite some caveats which I will shortly get into) but illegal to buy. In the Australian model it's legal to sell AND buy, but with safety restrictions regulating the how and to what extent.

Secondly, some highly relevant background info about me: Some years ago, I was actually interested in becoming a sex worker myself, because well, my trauma sought a new, exciting thrill... However, I wanted to do it as legally and safely as I could possibly manage. I also wanted to sell physical sex acts, not just sell foot pics on the internet. So basically I did a ton of research on how to be legal full service prostitute in my country, and to my sheer frustration, found that the Nordic model has so many flaws and contradictions in it that there's no way I could possibly sell sex without running into some serious trouble.

Although PLEASE keep in mind that I'm no longer interested in making prostitution my career!

But also to prove my point (before having even made it yet): even IF I'd still consider becoming a sex worker, I would feel safer doing that in the Netherlands, or possibly even in (certain parts of) America, and most definitely in Australia, than I would in Sweden. Of course it's good if the shitty Nordic model prevents me from starting up such a business, but if that's the only focus here, then you're completely missing a very important, in fact crucial, point: The reason it prevents me from doing so is not because it makes sex work seem more unappealing than it already is, but because the laws around it are unnecessarily FUCKED. That is the literal law putting me in danger, possibly even more so than the john's would, which is a huge failure on part of the government. The government's job should be to protect, not kick and step on people who are already fucking lying down, for daring to lie down to begin with, which the vast majorty of whom did not choose to.

Now, let's get into the issues with the Nordic model that I stumbled into during my research:

1. Although it's technically legal to sell sex, it's illegal to do it at your own home, the client's home, hotels, outdoors, literally any imaginable physical location. Which means prostitutes run a risk of facing eviction and getting arrested for the location (which is every location) they perform their services.

2. You have to pay taxes for the money you earn, like any other "job." However, the catch here is that the only way you can to do this is if you apply for starting your own business as a sex worker, which you're not technically allowed to do (???) by applying for something called an "F kassa" which is basically a form of private company financial set up (very Sweden specific, bureaucratic bullshit) which is the "lowest" and most difficult form of it to work with. Basically by that system, you have to manually calculate your taxes by yourself every month, which has a VERY high risk of fucking it up accidentally, which gets you at a very high liability for accidental fraud. It's also an extremely mentally taxing (sorry for the bad pun) way to pay taxes, unless you're a mathematician. Due to this, most Swedish sex workers do not pay their taxes, which you can probably imagine how living under that kinda stress could do to a person.

3. Because buying sex is still illegal under the Nordic model, prostitutes still have to stay quiet if something bad happens with a client, because giving up clients to the cops hurts their business, as well as increasing the risk of the cops finding more of their clients to bust, and fewer john's wanna go to a prostitute who is not trustworthy.

4. Trafficking is still happening a lot, even in Sweden. But problem is that because any and all such activity is strictly illegal, including brothels and the like, they hide underground and are not found out about until after having done severe damage for many decades... if at all. Pimps etc in Sweden are extremely skilled at keeping their business secret because duh obviously?! Hidden trafficking gets discovered all the time, but they get better at hiding, thus harder to discover.

5. There were a ton more issues I stumbled into, but these were the most concerning ones that really leaped out at me. Other issues includes: not being able to get safety stuff like condoms covered financially unless you go through hell and high water to record for every little rubber you buy and use and what exactly it costed, etc, but even then it's still pretty much impossible in practice. Not allowed to keep your income on a bank account because of the legal issues of where those money come from. The extremely high risk of keeping contact with clients without getting caught, whether you use a phone, e-mail, snailmail, etc.

Conclusions: In my opinion, the Nordic model only makes shit a hell of a lot worse, in an attempt to protect sex workers. But the result is that it only forces people to go underground and hide from the law to protect their business, which goes for both trafficking as well as individual prostitutes with their own businesses. It tries, but fails hard.

Basically, the law says you have to abide by things that are not actually possible to abide by in actual practice. I wrecked my head for months trying to figure out how to be a law-abiding prostitute, but to no avail. It made me not just frustrated for myself, but also worried about sex workers in my country, whether they're trafficked or otherwise forced, or choosing to do it on their own volition. The Nordic model makes sex work dangerous, not only because of the clients possible (or likely) abuse the sex workers might face, but because of the law itself. And that's where I personally think the law has gone very, very wrong. It should protect sex workers, not punish them further and putting them in even more danger.

(Also, although my knowledge of the Nordic model is very Sweden specific, I got the impression that it's flaws are quite similar in other Nordic countries, aside from a few details here and there.)

The Australian model, I have far less knowledge about. I basically just watched a few youtube videos about it and skimmed through maybe half an article, buuuut... what little I heard of it seems to do a far better job at both protecting individual sex workers who work for themselves, AND reducing trafficking, which really spoke to me. Yes, the Australian model allows far more, but that is not at all necessarily bad or dangerous. It allows the shit (trafficking) to float up to the surface much more easily, makes pimps far more careless with their businesses (ie easier to bust them) and can offer a far better safety net for those who (more or less) choose to do it on their own volition. But what exactly is and isn't allowed in that model, I'm admittedly unsure. But a lot of stuff pertaining to prostitution there has been de-criminalised, NOT legalised, and that's a very important point to keep in mind.

But also, I understand that the Australian model cannot possibly be "perfect" by any means. It's probably more so that I understand the Nordic model to be so horrific that whatever the Australian model does differently pretty much cannot possibly be worse. That's how badly I think of the Nordic model. It seriously angers me to the bone, how horrible it is. And thus, I can't help but getting very wrapped up in my emotions about it when I hear radfems praising the Nordic model, when all it does is brushing the inconvenient dust under the carpet, while the Australian model has already done quite some impressive actual cleaning, in the few years that have passed since they de-criminalised prostitution stuff.

The actual real life outcome should matter more than how nice the model looks like in theory. Sweden offers an absolutely terrible living situation for sex workers of any kind in actual practice, despite having such a "nice" system that's "meant" to make it safer for sex workers and reduce trafficking, which it absolutely does not do. Australia literally proved their "more allowing" system actually works in practice to improve the safety for sex workers and to reduce trafficking, despite it looks morally corrupt and too allowing in theory, and that's what matters to me. The outcome. The lives.

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

The End of Year Awards Are Back... and This Time, It’s Personal!

And so we approach the end of 2020, the year that never really began. On paper, at least, it looked incredibly promising. There were lots of great movies slated to come out; culture seemed slightly less paucity-riddled and pointless than usual; good things were in the air. Then COVID happened, and basically fucked everything. Actually, that’s not quite true: my personal year has been fucking spectacular. I’m in a long-term relationship with a gorgeous woman for the first time in forever- no more abrupt trysts and stolen moments for yer humble narrator: I’ve got a sumptuously plus-size lady-friend who actually wants to spend substantial amounts of time me (and has knockers you could sled down, were you so inclined). I also started a Youtube channel where I upload performances of magic tricks I’ve designed and a few people seem to quite like it. Oh, and I’ve written four novels, with a fifth well on its way to completion. Unfortunately, that’s my life, not the life of our civilisation and culture as a whole. The fact that bugger all happened in that makes this end-of-year round-up a little hard to write. With that in mind, I’m going to hand out the gongs for 2020, but I’m also going to do my usual dodge of giving end-of-year awards to things that I discovered in 2020, even if they came out the year, decade or century before. It’s not like any right-minded person gives a hoot about my opinion anyway. Right then, everyone clear on the rules? Then let’s roll up our sleeves and plunge elbow deep into the fetid trough of our decaying society to ferret out the best and worst of the Things That Humans Have Done Recently.

The ‘I Like It Because It Confused Thick People’ Award for Best High-Concept Sci-Fi Movie... … Goes to the sterling Tenet, a spy film that used entropy inversion and symmetric, opposite-direction timelines within the same physical space the way most spy films use hacking and guns. Christopher Nolan films are always intricately constructed and meticulously-executed, but this one must have had Japanese Master Puzzle-Box Makers crying into their breakfast cereal. Is breakfast cereal a thing in Japan? I honestly I have no idea. For some reason, all I can imagine is a sort of dry kedgeree where all the ingredients that aren’t rice have been removed. But I digress. For all its intricacy, Tenet is actually really easy to follow once you’ve grasped the basic premise that there’s a machine that lets people move backwards through time, and that this makes them appear to move in reverse to the rest of the world while they perceive the rest of the world as moving in reverse. Nolan maintains a mastery of cinematic visual language that makes even the most abstruse concept easy to wrap your head around. Nonetheless, following Tenet’s release, dumb people took to the Internet on mass to complain that the film was confusing and stupid, never once realising that their inability to conceptualise time in non-linear ways was their own failing, not Nolan’s. I find that refreshing. It’s nice to see a sci-fi film that’s actually made for smart-cookie sci-fi fans and doesn’t give a hoot if it alienate thickos.

The Award for Most Inexplicably Compelling Web Comic… … Goes to Questionable Content. I originally started reading Questionable Content because I’d heard that the female lead and love interest was a plus size lassie and that shit’s my jam. However, the art style makes everyone look like a skinny indie-type, regardless of their actual, in-universe size, so it doesn’t do much to titillate my Fat Admiring Titillation Centres. And yet, I’m over five hundred ‘episodes’ in and still reading. The thing is, I couldn’t tell you why for the life of me. Maybe it’s the hope that the art style will evolve to the point where the people look like actual human beings with different body types (but then, why would I care unless I was invested for some other reason). Maybe it’s the fact that when I get one of the many, many obscure band or pop culture references, I feel a little buzz of kinship with the writer. Maybe it’s the fact that it takes place in a universe where robots and superheroes are things that regularly happen, yet most of the strips are just normal people chatting shit in a coffee shop and the slice-of-life narrative/sci-fi setting appeals to my sense of juxtaposition. I don’t know, but I find it really compelling to the extent that I’ve pissed away entire days reading it. I have a horrible feeling that it’s a short step from this to really angsty hentai. If I start singing the praises of that, somebody please shoot me in the crotch.

The ‘Forest Gump Debating Peter Andre’ Award For Most Sustained or Elongated Instance of Stupidity… … Goes to Donald Trump. I was tempted just to award this gong to his entire presidency, but that wasn’t just stupid: it was also venal, corrupt, horrifying and punctuated by terrible moments of low cunning. So, instead, this award goes to his ‘soup’ rant. For those of you who missed it, the former President of the United States spent a really, really long time (in the run-up to the election) wittering on about protestors throwing cans of soup at police. What was dumb and weird about it was that he appeared to be extolling the virtues of soup as a siege weapon, going into really specific detail about how it was better than a brick because it could be thrown with more force, finishing with the utterance that protestors would just argue that “this is just soup for my family” if they were caught with the cans… which is phrased wrong in such a subtle and inhuman way it’s hard to imagine that anyone actually ever said it, at least in those words. I have no idea if protestors in America were throwing soup cans at police (which would be entirely justified considering how many innocent people American police have murdered in cold blood quite recently) or if this was a fantasy dreamed up by the former president in the cloudcuckooland that is his diseased little brain. Either way, the connected rant was balls deep in dumb.

The Most Disturbing Unintentional Impression of Vincent Price Award… … Goes to the narrator from One Step Beyond, a Twilight Zone-esque anthology of weirdness that purports to be based on true events and has to be seen to be believed. The stories are oft-disturbing instances of spooky-inflected human drama and can occasionally be quite disconcerting… until they’re book-ended by a dude who sounds like Vincent Price reading a children’s book in a really earnest voice. It’s weird and no, it didn’t hit our screens in Space Year 2020, it dates back to Ye Olden Times of the 1950s or 60s, when men were men, women were women and technincolour was a distant dream that could get you strung up for witchcraft. Nonetheless, I only encountered it this year, so it’s getting its prize. I warned you I was going to pull this shit, but you foolish fools didn’t listen.

The ‘It’s Not Gay If I Don’t Clench’ Award for Cognitive Dissonance… … Goes to Amazon Prime, the content-making branch of evil, tax-dodging, anti-monopoly-law-breaking megalith Amazon. You see, while Big Daddy Amazon is off being incredibly sinister and worrying, like a shifty vampire hanging off the economy’s throat, the creative people at Amazon Prime are busy making or acquiring some of the flat-out best TV ever committed to a streaming-service, from the extra-weird slice of fun-pie that is The Tick, to the entertainingly horrifying cultural dissection of The Boys to the utterly unique Carnival Row, to the superbly adapted American Gods. It’s a bit like discovering that Geoffrey Dahlmer single-handedly created a body of artistic work to rival Vincent Van Gogh’s when he wasn’t pouring acid onto the brains of emotionally vulnerable young adults. It gives me a headache.

The Clint Eastwood Award for Most Effective Older Gentlemen… … Goes to Joe Biden, for unseating dipshit in chief Donald Trump with the casual badassery of a Wild West gunslinger shooting a baddy (probably played by Leonardo Di Caprio) in the balls. I mean, he’s not the best Prez America could ask for but a) as a Brit I don’t have to care and b) anyone who ousts Trump gets mad props from me.

The ‘It’s a Pity Everything Else is Shit Now’ Award for Best New Ongoing Series… … Goes to my own Youtube series, Victor The Magician, in which I claim to be a reality-hopping, interdimensional wizard on an endless quest to… perform magic, basically. I’ll admit that the quality is super-variable (Youtube algorithms and their constant demand for fresh content be a harsh mistress, etc., etc.). However, when I’m good, I’m really good. If you’re looking for a punch-line other than the fact that this whole bit is a self-promoting plug, it’s this: my Youtube series really was the best thing to come out this year. Not because I’m great or anything, just by default. A promising year really did turn into a cultural wasteland the moment COVIDius Rex reared its scaly head.

The Zombie Ian Curtis Award for Most Crushing Disappointment… … Goes to Rick and Morty Series 4. As I think I’ve said before, it was still good, but it just didn’t reach the dizzy heights of nihilistic lunacy achieved in series 1-3. I think the problem is that the audience is meant to learn something from Rick’s poor choices, even if he doesn’t, because the creators saw the amazing success of Bojack Horseman and decided they wanted a slice of that sweet, tangy deconstructionist pie. It worked up to a point in the climax of Series 3, but having made their point, the showrunners probably should have moved onto a different point. They forgot that the appeal of Rick Sanchez is his combination of ‘entertaining car-crash of a human being’ and ‘unstoppable superbeing’. Push him through an arc and you risk breaking the thing that makes him and the show so endlessly watchable. Rick, unlike Bojack, just wasn’t built for heavy introspection. Also, the team hired on new writers who were less than familiar with the characters, setting and subtext, and that’s always an invitation to disaster.

The Special Sir Mixalot Award for Posteriority… ...Goes to… my girlfriend and glamorous assistant, Mystic Miss Terri, who’s arse is gorgeous and majestic.

The ‘Are They STILL Making That?’ Award for a Show You Forgot Existed And is Now Back… … Goes to Supernatural, which never technically went away and whose final series is apparently being broadcast on one of the 4 channels (though who knows which one, any more), It’s kind of nice to realise it’s still out there and be reminded that there are still people who care deeply about what happens to it. It’s like when you remember ‘oh yeah, [insert cute animal here] actually exists and isn’t just an internet meme. That’s nice’. Also, it’s good to see Jared Padelacki working steadily. It can’t be easy to find acting gigs when most producers just want to shoot you and mount your antlers over a fireplace.

The Irritating Magician Award for Something That Just Won’t Fuck Off… ...Goes to this blog entry, which is three pages long in Word. Good grief. Bye y’all! See you next year, assuming that the last few days of 2020 don’t culminate in a civilisation-destroying attack by giant space-ants. If that seems worryingly specific, let’s just say that- as Leonard Cohen would say “I’ve seen the future and, brother, it is murder”… by giant space-ants.

[one-piece-dumpster-fire]

Can you do a scenario for Law s/o can take people souls and body parts (likes Law) so she decides to take something of Laws that calls himself a man (if you know what I'm mean) and hides to where he can't find her, she calls him on his transponder snail and tells him she that she wants to play a game. She torture Law by pleasuring him very slow until he's a moaning mess (like screaming and begging) later that day Law gets revenge. Can you make it a long and rough NSFW please.

LOVE how Tumblr just randomly decided to reload the site while I was finishing this up so I could re-do all of my changes again :)

I hope I got this right and that youdon’t mind, but I changed certain things up a little bit (mainly by having Law accidentally givehis girlfriend the ‘you-know-what’ and forgetting to take it backinstead xD

This goes without saying but big warning for some odd(?) filth under the cut~!

Dirty Law scenario: Taken

A goddamn fool. That’s the term Lawwould use to describe himself right now. His hands were shaking as hestared down at the bowl sitting right infront of him, almost as ifthis ‘special soup á la Bepo’ held the answer to all of hisquestions, especially those concerning his current situation. The surgeons cheeks wereflushed and sweat ran down his forehead as he impatiently bounced hislegs against the ground, sometimes loud enough to distract from allthe little groans that escaped from his throat. How the hell did he forget?How the hell could he forget?! For a moment his eyes wandered down to his lapto check again and make sure that this wasn’t just an awful dream-but no, there was indeed nothing there. Another groan escaped hislips as he looked across the table, past all the concerned lookingcrewmates that hesitantly slurped their soup, and right into the eyesof the culprit. A faux innocent smile was dancing on (Y/N)’s lipsas she slowly lifted her spoon while wiggling her eyebrows in Law’s direction as she noticed his staring. How. Dare. She.

Said man clenched his teeth andmuttered a low curse before lowering his gaze to look at the souponce more. Oh, this was far from being over.

Last night certainly was wild- after all, both he and (Y/N)did all sorts of crazy stuff to work off their desperation and pent up tension- and while it felt amazing to completely let go of allworries and concerns for a brief moment, the surgeon made a terriblemistake. At some point he… god, Law couldn’t even remember how exactly ithappened, but he must have…. 'taken off’ his dick and handed it to(Y/N) so she could have some ‘fun’ while he probably watched (which was, to be honest, one ofthe hottest things they ever added to their collections of odd kinks),but- appearantly, Law must have forgotten to… ‘reattach’ it afterwards. So the next morning, while stillfeeling calm and relaxed from the great sex, the grumpy pirate was quickto notice that his girlfriend was missing from the bed. Must have gotten up early,he quickly assumed and walked into the bathroom to get ready himself,which was when he noticed. Something was wrong. Or, to be morespecific, something was missing. An until this point unknown feeling of panic immediately spread through hiswhole body and mind, the former state of relaxation now completelygone as Law tried to recall what exactly happened to his cock lastnight.

And then the call.

God forbid that you just leave him be for one day and not pull something that would get Law all worked upagain. What kind of game was this to you? Hiding from him, evadinghim- even threatening to hurt his manhood if he’d dare to come lookfor you!!! This whole day was just pure torture, you were clearly using thissituation for your own sick amusement while he was forced to walk around thesubmarine, barely able to go on with his daily chores and things whiletrying to repress any urges rising up- because clearly you weresomewhere, playing with him (or rather, his cock) while he had to stay strong and endure all ofit. And ontop of that, you even had the gall to show up to lunch withthat huge smile on your face and a little box by your side- oh Law knewwhat was inside but couldn’t do anything about it- which you were aware of, of course. I mean, imagine ifhis crewmates caught wind of this? No, he would not deal with that, might as well open a hatch and drown himself in the sea.Clearly you must have had some sort of wicked plan or perhaps just felt confident enough to make such a bold move, because now the surgeon wassitting across from you with his whole body shaking while you allowedyour hand to wander into the box every now and then to edge him on even further.

Oh you were going to pay dearly forthis, Law silently swore to himself while his eyes burned a hole into the bowlwith soup infront of him. Luckily the awkward lunch break didn’tlast too long either, and after a few small spoons of what he assumed to be simple cabbage water the young surgeon rosefrom the table to head into the direction of his room, but notbefore coldly staring at you once more and basically giving you the silent orderto come along. A small giggle escaped your tender lips as you stoodup as well and grabbed the box, which was already rumored to hold some sortof forbidden treasure by Shachi and Penguin, and quickly followedafter your boyfriend. However, much to your suprise, Law almost immediately seemed to vanish from your sight as you exited the kitchen to accompany him through the hallway- but with a simple shrug you carried on, humminghappily as you made your way into his large bedroom. Well, and fromthere on out things got… wild. again.

You barely managed to fully enter the room as thedoor already slammed shut behind you, and a cold hand quickly wrapped itself around yourwrist and basically pushed you against the wall. Upon looking up you came faceto face with your boyfriend, who was still gritting his teeth with aflushed expression dancing on his tired features. That sight alone already caused another giggle toescape from you as you tightly held onto the box- which was undoubtlythe thing Law was after, even if his eyes were locked on your face.

„I think you have something thatbelongs to me…“ was all he managed to get out, his voice sounding strained and hoarse as his hand slightly squeezed your wrist. But instead of giving in and ending this little game as well as his desperation, you decided to continueteasing him. „Mh… do I now? I think you’ll have toremind me,“ you pouted and blinked a few times to fakeignorance, but a moment later Law’s other hand slammed againstthe wall right next to your face, his expression furious as he slowlypressed himself against you in an attempt to keep you trapped between the wall and his body.

„Enough with the games, (Y/N)-ya,“the young man growled and lowered his gaze, seemingly prepared to just go ahead andgrab the box- but you were faster and quickly freed your hand from his grip andreached inside of it, giving its content a tight squeeze. Lawimmediately threw his head back as he started to hiss with unbearablepleasure and pain as you reminded him of who it was that had the upperhand.

„Your tone seems pretty pointed rightnow… why don’t you relax a bit~?“ you smirked and started to rub alonghis shaft again, which was already stuck in a constant state of hardness thanks toyour treatment. But of course you would always stop with touching it before Law couldactually come. All this pent up pleasure and the need to release made your boyfriend feel and look quite animalistic, after all he found himself close to losing itmultiple times throughout the day. But now that you were right there infront of him, enough was enough.

„AAAAH!!“ you suddenly started toshriek as your back rubbed against the wall- Law was nowlooming over you with his face only inches away from yours, and thehand that had previously grasped your wrist was now forcing its wayinto your pants, where it immediately started to rub against the fabric of yourpanties. And as expected, carrying his dick around all day did havean effect on you as well, which caused him to groan with relief. Now you weren’t exactly 'wet’, butLaw could clearly feel the heat that was radiating off of your core.Out of habit your hips started to grind against his coldhand, which immediately send a shiver down your spine as youtightened your grip around his manhood, forcing the surgeon release another loudgroan.

„Not so much fun getting roughenedup, right (Y/N)-ya?“ he growled and aggressively pinched your sensitive nub through your panties, which caused you to cry out in amix of pleasure and pain. „Hnnn… you…“ a disappointedwhimper left your lips as you paid him back by vigorously stroking along his shaft, but that only encouraged Law to rub against your still clothed entrance even faster.

„Whatever you do, now that I got you right here… I can pay you backeven worse,“ he whispered hoarsely and quickly pushed yourpanties aside to insert a single digit into your womanhood, causingyou to arch your back and press yourself against him with need. Truthto be told, having him treat you roughly like this after what you puthim through this day was actually exactly what you had anticipated,and the way Law looked at you, almost as if he was a feral beast…it was too much to handle. A loud moan escaped from your throat asyour hand held onto his arm while he continued to finger you, but unfortunately his mind wasn’t really as clouded as you had expected,and that small moment of carelessness from you was enough for Law to smirk ashe quickly pulled the box from you and almost jumped backwards, causinghis fingers to leave your hot womanhood in the process. „E-Eh…?“you blinked a few times as you noticed that the box as well as his hands and body were gone, and upon looking back at your boyfriend you couldn’t help butpout. Seems like your little game came to an early conclusion…

„Oh… not fair! You tricked me!“you huffed with faked anger as Law reached inside the box, seeminglyignoring you in the process, and pulled out his hard and erect cock. „Goddamn it, (Y/N)-ya…“ he hissedthrough clenched teeth as holding his manhood alone already send morepleasure down his body, but then a quick look at your squirming figure caused a light bulb to suddenly go off inhis mind as Law‘s eyes locked on you- or, more specifically- acertain spot between your legs… 

Within the blink of an eye he waslooming over you again, his face cold and unmoving as he quicklypulled both your pants and panties down with one swift motion. „L-Law?“ you tilted your head tothe side as you reached out to wrap your arms around your boyfriendfor support, unsure on what he was going to do. I mean… judging byhis actions you’d assume that he was going to fuck you like usual, but… Hisdick was still not where it belonged, so what was he doing?!

„I bet you had a lot of fun doingthis last night, (Y/N)-ya… Too bad I can’t remember most of it, butperhaps this’ll help jog my memory…?“ he muttered and spreadyour legs with one hand while the other one was tightly holding ontohis still detached dick, now bringing it closer and closer to yourbo- oh. Was this it? Your eyes widened with shock as he suddenlyrammed his length inside of you, immediately causing your eyes to rollback with pleasure as he pulled it out again, only to slam it rightback in. You could feel his hot and ragged breathing as sweat randown Law’s browbone; his eyes were half-closed as he moved hisdick in and out of your dripping core at a fast pace. This was the sort of relief hewas seeking the whole day because of you and your ‘game’, and it didn’t matterwhether it was his hips or hands that allowed him to bury himself inside of yourdepths, he just needed to feel you. His hand speed up more and more as moan after moan rolled offyour tongue, your walls tightly clenched around him as the sight of Law fucking you with his detached dick only turned you on more and more.

Neither one of you was able to keep this going for long though, and after a few more powerful thrusts you felt your orgasm approaching- which caused Law to groan and lift one of your legs over his shoulder so hecould thrust in even deeper and fully bury himself in your warmth until he reached his climax and paintedyour insides white. His hand was keeping a tight hold on the base of his cock as his entire body began to shake, and a moment later you released a loud cry of your own to signal that you reached the edge as well.

Did he ever manage to fuck you that deep before…? Probably not, and as you tried to calm down yourbreathing your gaze wandered down to his now stained dick stillresting in his hand, which caused a small laugh to mix in with your panting. Your arms were still wrapped around his neck as you leaned forward topress a playful kiss to his warm cheek before whispering:

„So… are you all better? Then, can I have my little toy back now~?“

[fightmeyeats]

"She comes to work and she does her job!”: Casual Ableism in the Work Place

Today, while sitting in a shaded outdoor common space on my college campus, comparing sets of blood test results from the last year to see if there was anything I wanted to bring up with my doctor, I overheard a snippet of conversation between two middle aged women. What stood out to me was the woman who said, clearly in praise, “I know she’s suffered extremely, but she comes to work and she does her job!”

This is a kind of violence.

Now, maybe you’re reading this thinking What?? Sounds like the lady is a badass, good for her! Or maybe you’re thinking Why are you complaining? I would be appreciative that my coworker was doing her job despite hardship! Everybody has problems, I have problems, but I don’t bring them to work with me!

So before I break this down, let me tell you a little bit about two of my coworkers with disabilities: for context, there are other people at my place of employment with disabilities but I am most familiar with “A” and “B”’s specific circumstances, so they’re who I’m going to talk about here. Both coworkers I am discussing here are white, straight, cis women. I am not going to give any specifics that might make them identifiable, but I will say that “A” is in a skinny young adult with an autoimmune disorder; and “B” is middle aged, plus-sized, and has multiple disabilities. “B” is required to be provided with a chair so that she can sit periodically and has restrictions on how much weight she can lift; “A” has not requested or received any accommodations, although she does miss work periodically when she has bad flair ups. My manager has told me multiple times that she hates seeing “B” sit down because she thinks it “looks bad,” and both she and other managers have frequently harassed “B,” telling her that they need to see her doing more, threatening to stop allowing her use the chair (despite the fact they are required by company policy, and I believe law, to provide this accommodation), and writing her up for sitting down, claiming she is using her chair “too much.” All this is despite the fact that she was moved, against her wishes and to her disadvantage, by said managers from a position that allowed her to accomplish tasks while sitting (and to use a mobility aid while performing tasks while standing), to a position which makes it so that sitting in accordance with her doctor’s directions makes it more difficult for her to accomplish her assigned tasks; she also has less ability to use a mobility aid. “B” frequently expresses concern that she will be fired, and frequently goes longer than she is supposed to without sitting or lifts significantly more than she is supposed to (impacting her health), because she is afraid of being written up, or having a customer complain she was not helpful enough. My other coworker, “A” frequently works while visibly suffering from flair-ups and explains at length to myself and other managers that she is trying to get her health stabilized so that she does not inconvenience anybody, and because she wants to be a good employee. My manager praises “A,” except when “A” does have to miss a period of work because of her condition, and then, despite the fact that “A” always brings in documentation showing she was not only having a flair up, but was receiving treatment, my manager writes “A” up because her absences are “too much at this point,” and “beyond what we can reasonably excuse.” This is only the smallest possible example of the harm done by praising someone for “coming to work and doing her job.”

This mentality focuses on a valuing of human life based off of how productive and convenient a person is, and it’s something I see prevalent in classroom and employment settings (both as the affirmation, as well as the inverse “I know X is going through a lot, but they’re attitude is terrible, they’re just not doing a good job!”). Essentially, the value assigned to a person as an employee (or as a student) is based on how much they are able to do despite disability (or other barriers), and is framed through a lens of personal convenience (ie “I’m not ableist, I just don’t want to get stuck doing all the work because they can’t”). At its core, I believe the idea that this mentality stems from ableism, neoliberalism, and capitalism.

Disabled people, especially disabled women, are under constant surveillance; there’s a great article by Sharon Dale Stone called “The Myth of Bodily Perfection,” where she discusses the idea of bodily perfection and points out that morality is generally tied to ability, and that people (especially women) are likely to conceal disability if they can. This is because of capitalist ideas of productivity, as well as neoliberalism; anyone who is not appropriately productive, who can’t come to work and do their job, must just be lazy, must not be trying hard enough. “Model” disabled figures, such as the woman I overheard be discussed on campus, are used to prove this; if she can do her job, why can’t someone else? What is overlooked is not only that people have different needs and abilities and not everyone can come in every single day and meet/exceed expectations (or that the additional burden of trying to do this may not be desirable, and shouldn’t be enforced), but it overlooks the actual lived experiences of this “ideal” figure: what is it costing her to fill this role? Why is she put in a position where she has to? Furthermore, why are you blaming those who cannot do it? While it may be inconvenient for you to “pick up the slack,” rather than blaming your disabled coworker, maybe ask why your employer is setting you both up to fail--why is your coworker being asked to work beyond their ability, and why are you? Why is the workplace not setup to accommodate for disability?

This also ties into another of Stone’s points: that we imagine individuals are “totally able or totally disabled, with no in-between,” and that disability cannot be concealed (418); essentially, in the hegemonic imagination if someone is disabled they should not only experience the same amount of disability at all times, but should be completely (and visibly) disabled. The employed disabled figure is something of a paradox: while neoliberal Model Minority figures exist, those with visible disabilities must either be able to achieve this status, or be viewed as unemployable; this comes out in sentiments along the lines of “Well, if they were able to do x,y,z task last week, they can do it today!” and “All I’m saying is if they can’t do the job, they shouldn’t work here!” With invisible disabilities, it largely comes out as a complete refusal to believe the person in question is disabled; this doesn’t always mean a specific belief that the person is lying, but rather a refusal to engage with, on a meaningful level, the idea that a person who “looks” healthy and normal has real limitations that impact their ability to do things, and is not just “being lazy” when they can’t do something.

So what’s the solution to this? Ultimately, what I want is good allyship. Think critically before you speak. Ask yourself why is it so important to you that your coworkers, who are “suffering extremely” are also meeting your standards of productivity. Look for ways to make your workplace or classroom more accessible. And above all else, try to find ways to build solidarity; instead of praising the woman who is working despite suffering, ask what you and others can do to alleviate the suffering.  

[sweetmorninglight]

Supernatural AU!Necromancer (I.M)

“Hey, stop it” the blonde annoying girl said moving away from Guy n.1, who was poking her legs with a stick

You didn’t learn their names and you didn’t care because they weren’t your friends

Actually, you had no friends at all, only annoying school acquaintances

And here you were with three of them trespassing a cemetery just to ““have fun””

“This is so scary” Guy n.2 said pointing the flashlight of his phone to the graves

“The only scary thing here is your ugly face” Guy n.1 replied and laughed alone

You rolled your eyes for the fourth time that night and sighed

If you weren’t so bored at home, you wouldn’t have accepted their invitation to break some laws and maybe have a supernatural adventure

Now you started to regret your decision, staying home would’ve been better than this

“What if we see something?” the blonde girl asked

“The only thing you’re seeing tonight is in my pants, baby” Guy n.1 replied and you almost threw up

“Could you please respect the dead?” you said giving him an annoyed look

“Why? They’re dead, I’m not” the moron laughed and you rolled your eyes again

“You’ll be someday” Guy n.2 said apprehensively as you guys approached the main chapel

“But not soon enough” you complemented under breath

“Are we entering?” the blonde girl asked

“Hell yeah, I wanna talk to some dead people” Guy n.1 waved the Ouija board and was the first one to break in

Luckily the cemetery wasn’t a place that most people like to hang out at, so the only night guard was fast asleep in his cabin at the entrance

You wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone… Alive, obviously

“I’m not sure if we should do this, I’ve heard some terrible stories about this kind of games” the blonde girl looked around and hug herself

Moonlight was shining through some windows giving a darker and somber atmosphere to the place

“I brought holy water with me” Guy n.2 showed a metal flask and set his phone on the floor to light up the area

“Let’s do it” Guy n.1 sat down and arranged the board

You sat in front of him, with your back to the door, and the other two sat by your sides

You all placed your fingers on the planchette

“Is anyone there?” Guy n.2 asked looking around

“Oh, oh!” the girl almost screamed feeling the planchette moving, but you held your finger in place

“Stop pretending” you warned Guy n.1

“I’m not” he said smiling in an annoying manner

“Right” you moved the piece back to its original place and told them not to fool around

“Hello” Guy n.2 said and you all waited for an answer, but nothing happened

“Maybe they don’t wanna talk to your ugly face” Guy n.1 remarked and you were holding yourself from punching him

“Try it then, moron” Guy n.2 was fed up as well

“Hey, demon, it’s ya boy” Guy n.1 laughed

“Why would you say that?!” the girl hit him in the arm with her right hand, breaking the bond with the board

“It’s a meme! Don’t you know this meme?!”

“You removed your hand before asking to leave!” Guy n.2 exasperated

“But it didn’t say anything”

“But we already established contact!”

“I’m sorry, please, I don’t wanna die!” she placed her hand back

“Too late” a deep, sensual voice disrupted their ranting, making them all scream and leave the chapel within seconds

You, however, remained on your spot

“Hm, goodbye?” you placed the planchette on the word by yourself and you heard the voice laugh

“Well, I just arrived, isn’t that a bit rude?” the voice stepped out of the shadows and goddamn, you weren’t expecting a guy your age to show up

He was wearing black from head to toe and you’ve never seen anyone look this good in only one color

There was a mysterious aura surrounding him and you realized you were staring for too long when his lips turned into a smirk

“Who were you trying to contact?” he pointed at the board

“No one”

“Grandma, right?” he laughed at your surprised face. “Surprised already? I haven’t even showed you all my tricks yet”

Your heart skipped a beat seeing him stepping a bit closer. What was he talking about? Who was he? How did he get in main chapel without being seen by you or the others? What did he want?

So many questions, yet you couldn’t voice them.

Your lack of communication made the mysterious guy cross his arms and speak again

“Your friends left you behind”

“They’re not my friends, they’re too dumb” you finally said, getting up and cleaning your jeans with your hands.

“Oh, really?” he sounded way too interested.

“They were trying to contact spirits inside a sacred place, if that’s not dumb then I don’t know what dumb is”

“Ah, that’s why they ran away and you’re still here? Because you know I can’t be a spirit?”

“I’m not scared of spirits or dying, if that’s what you’re implying” you collected the board.

“Isn’t it scary to be ready to die at such a young age?” he questioned,  but you didn’t answer

“I’m assuming you’re the kind of person that believes that living people can do more harm than dead ones” he came closer with small steps “But that’s because you haven’t met the right dead ones. You can’t even imagine what some people would do if I gave them a second chance”

“If you gave them a second chance?” you scoffed without realizing you were talking to him again.

You cleared your throat before speaking

“Right, that was a fun talk, but I’m going now”

“Can I show you something?”

“No, thanks” you said opening the chapel’s door

“Are you sure, Honey Bunch?” his voice made you freeze in place

You turned slowly, teared eyes and holding the board tightly against your chest

“That’s how she called you, right? It was her favorite books when she was young… Ah, she always wanted to be like Honey Bunch, but her spirit wasn’t as free and adventurous as yours. I see now” the guy nodded and closed the distance between you too

“Are you sure you don’t want to see what I want to show you?” he raised an eyebrow offering his hand

You noticed he had black nail polish in some of his nails and this only added to his odd yet intriguing look.

He was even more mysterious under the moonlight, but something in his eyes made you feel comfortable, so you decided to take his hand

But when he led you to an open grave you knew you made a terrible choice

Your heart was pounding inside your chest as your brain was trying to come up with a crazy plan to get you away from his and this cemetery

“Don’t be scared, nothing will come out to grab you” he mocked. “I just want to help you see your grandma again”

“What?” you let out unintentionally

“I know this sounds crazy, but trust me” he got down on his knees and started to draw some symbols on the dirt

He placed some items he took from his pockets on specific positions and started to mumble a few words that sounded like latin to you

It was when the dirt began rising from the ground and danced around you both that you wondered where the hell have you put yourself into

“Oh, I see” he mumbled to himself and turned to you. “She’s transitioning, so it’s quite unstable now, but you’ll be able to see each other for a few moments”

You were still lost with all that has happened so far, but when the dirt began to shift into your grandma’s shape you fell down on your knees.

“Granny?” you asked with tears already filling your eyes

Losing your grandma was the hardest moment you had to go through so far

“She can’t hear you, I’m sorry” you heard him saying, but that didn’t matter

She was smiling at you again

Your grandma was there in front of you and nothing else mattered

She was wearing the same clothes she had during her funeral and you cried more because she looked beautiful.

You missed her grandma more than anyone else

She was your number one support, she was your rock, she was your safe place, she was everything you wanted to be when you grow older

You were feeling priviledged to see her again looking so healthy

This is a sight you wouldn’t forget for sure

“Hm, she has to go back” the guy warned and the dirt rose again

She waved goodbye with such kind eyes you found yourself  laughing through your tears

“Bye, I love you” you whispered waving back and your heart felt at ease when she disappeared

Losing her again wasn’t so bad because now you knew she was alright and you had the chance to properly say goodbye

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold her here any longer” the guy explained

His hands were shaking and his forehead was damp with sweat

“Are you okay? You’re not in pain, are you?” you used your sleeve to pat away some of his sweat

You weren’t expecting his eyes to be so beautiful up close

“I’m still new to all of this, but I’m okay” he breathed

“I don’t know what you did, but it was truly amazing. Thank you” you lightly kissed his cheek and smiled

You weren’t expecting him to blush so hard, but it was cute

He placed his fingers on his cheek and smiled widely

“Would it be weird if I asked you to explain how you do this thing over a cup of coffee or something you’d like to drink or something?” you felt yourself blushing as well while being confused with your own words

“That’d be great, I know a place nearby that closes late, we could check it out. I’m Changkyun, by the way” he offered his hand to you again and this time you didn’t have to think before grabbing it and saying your name back.

You didn’t expect your night to have such a twist of events, but you were thankful those three colleagues from school called you to hang out to see some spirits because you actually did and it couldn’t have gone any better than this.

[metalandmagi]

March Media Madness!

Hello and welcome to the post where I talk about all the movies, books, and TV I consumed this month in my seemingly never ending quest to shout my feelings into the void. And oh boy all the winter anime is ending so I feel dead inside.

*puts on sunglasses* Let’s do this.

Movies!

Bohemian Rhapsody: The one about Queen Freddie Mercury. And it’s pretty good. It’s a little weird seeing a biopic of a band with literally no struggles getting into the industry, and I wouldn’t say it does wonders for the negative stereotypes about bisexuals...but who cares because if you’re watching this movie, it’s because you just want to sing along to some Queen songs and see some big hair! 8/10

How to Train Your Dragon- The Hidden World: The third and final installment in the How to Train Your Dragon trilogy, in which Dreamworks pulls a Butterfree on us, but at least we get a happy ending. This franchise holds a special place in my heart for so many reasons, and I’m glad that this one stuck the landing. Each movie has its own specific feeling and message, and they all advance the story in unique ways. Apart from being beautifully animated and hilarious, it also packs the big emotional punch we all were expecting and ends on a satisfying note overall. But it’s still not perfect. The other riders are at their most useless by far, and this is coming from someone who never really minded them before. They’re a lot more irritating if you’ve watched the tv series and can see how they can be useful. And Astrid really only provides emotional support instead of her usual ass-kicking. The villain was...fine...but he didn’t really pack much of a punch. And I really wished they had kept some sort of continuity and embraced the television series (I NEED A DAGUR CAMEO)! But these are mostly small things. If you haven’t given this franchise a try yet, please give it a chance! 9/10

Ralph Breaks the Internet: The poorly named sequel to Wreck It Ralph, in which Ralph and Venelope must travel to the internet to save Sugar Rush and keep the game characters from becoming homeless. It’s a fine follow up, but it definitely doesn’t have the same impact the first one did. There’s a heck of a lot going on in this movie, and it feels like it tried to do too much in terms of plot and character arcs in favor of sacrificing the humor from the first movie. And I really miss Felix and Calhoun. But there are a lot of good things about it too. Everything the Disney princesses do is pure gold, Shank is amazing, and there is a ton of effort put into building the world of the internet. I’m sure it will be pretty dated in a couple years, but it’s not just a quick cash grab full of name dropping and references (even though Disney seems like it wants it to be). It’s still worth checking out. 7.5/10

A Quiet Place: A family must survive in a world where deadly alien monsters that are attracted to sound have invaded the planet. I am the world’s biggest wimp when it comes to scary movies, and even I was interested enough in the premise to want to see this movie. And yes it’s amazing! The performances are all incredibly moving and believable, we get good representation of a Deaf character, the sound design is so creative it should be used in film classes, and it tells a thrilling and heart wrenching family story in only an hour and a half. I think I liked it because the focus wasn’t on the monsters just going around killing people. It’s about a family and what parents will do for their children. People like to say there’s a ton of plot holes, but if you actually think about them for more than five seconds, you’ll see there’s really nothing to pick apart because their decisions all make sense in the end.

My only question is about the cochlear device the daughter (Regan) uses. Was the dad (Lee) trying to make a new cochlear implant? Did Regan already have the internal component implanted in her cochlea? Had she been using one since before the monsters came? Did it break earlier because of the monsters’ connection with electromagnetic waves? Because if not...CIs don’t really work like that. I’m just confused about that situation. But that’s kind of nitpicky when this movie is still amazing. Even if you hate horror movies, I’d highly suggest it simply because of how creative its production is. 9/10

Mary Poppins Returns: It’s exactly what it sounds like...Mary Poppins returns to help the now adult children of the Banks family with the help of Lin Manuel Miranda. It’s fun, but it definitely goes on too long. Though I appreciate Emily Blunt putting her own spin on the character. Odds are if you like the original, you’ll probably like this too. 8/10

Fantastic Beasts- The Crimes of Grindelwald: The second movie in the Harry Potter prequel-verse, where Grindelwald basically becomes wizard Hitler and Newt is more concerned with winning Tina back then saving the world. Okay...this movie is not great. Structurally it’s a mess, the fun is being sucked out of the wizarding world, the characters make decisions that don’t align with previous behavior and make no logical sense, and there really is just the bare bones of a plot. There are also several characters that don’t need to be there and are just thrown in for fanservice (for now anyway). I found myself constantly saying how things don’t work like that and asking why things are happening. But even so, there are still good things about it. Visually it’s...fantastic. Jude Law makes a good young Dumbledore, and even Johnny Depp embodies what I always imagined Grindelwald at the height of his power would be like...I just wish it wasn’t Johnny Depp. I also wish it had more humor, because what was there was funny. It’s really just a transition film, which proves this franchise should never have been five movies, and Rowling should have focused on a Marauders era series or on young Dumbledore and Grindelwald. You just have to form your own opinion. 6.5/10

Maquia- When the Promised Flower Blooms: An immortal girl becomes a teen mom to an orphaned baby after her clan is killed. It’s basically a high fantasy version of Wolf Children. I honestly don’t know what to think about this movie. It does the family relationships so well and really drives home what it means to be a parent. However, its setting really throws me out of the movie because it tries to focus so much on the politics and background of this world without really succeeding. And because it is about a baby growing up, the pacing is so fast it will give you whiplash. But it is beautifully filmed and animated, and I would have bawled my eyes out at the ending if I wasn’t so distracted by how much I didn’t like the other characters and things that were happening at the castle. So...yeah, it’s a well animated, hard hitting movie that will probably mean more to parents overall. I just wish it was a TV series or a trilogy or something other than a two hour film. 7.5/10

Free Solo: A National Geographic documentary covering Alex Honnold, a man who is attempting to climb up the 900 meter side of El Capitan at Yosemite national park...without ropes or safety equipment. Yes, this is an incredible feat and the actual climbing portions are gripping and super intense. But personally, I found who Alex is as a person much more fascinating...and not necessarily in a positive way. Honestly, he can be a jerk. This sounds horrible to say considering he’s a real person and he’s doing something amazing, but seriously watch this movie and tell me this man is not one step away from being a sociopath. It’s completely understandable why he thinks the way he thinks, but it’s not exactly healthy for the other people in his life. I would be just as interested to see a two hour therapy session with him as I was with his climbing. Anyway, if you love gorgeous scenery and butt-clenching thrills with a side of psychologically interesting perspectives, watch this on the biggest screen possible. 8/10

The Matrix: REALITY IS AN ILLUSION, THE UNIVERSE IS A HOLOGRAM, BUY GOLD BYE

Yeah I’d never seen The Matrix, but I really didn’t expect it to be EXACTLY like the Oto arc in Tsubasa Chronicles. It’s too long, Neo’s an incredibly flat protagonist (but I feel like that’s on purpose to serve some sort of self-insert fantasy), and it seems like a YA dystopian fantasy series from 2013...but in an endearing sort of way. And hey it’s got a lot of cool slow motion fighting and neat body horror if you’re into that sort of thing. 7/10

Books!

Dry by Neal and Jarrod Shusterman: What happens when California literally just runs out of water one day? A group of teens go on an apocalyptic field trip to find some of course! I’ve only read one other Neal Shusterman series before, but I’m sensing a pattern of how well Shusterman can propose a theoretical question and then build an entire world around it. And this duo knows how to cover as many bases as possible because every time I ask a question about how something world work, the authors answer it almost immediately. This is a great story with very well written characters, and it even has a small hilarious twist in the end that makes you completely rethink everything about one of the characters. Most importantly it doesn’t follow the Scythe series’ formula of terribly written romance. However...it’s definitely a major bummer. It’s very interesting to think about, and it’s a roller coaster of a story...but the roller coaster only goes down and makes you want to scream all the time. If you like books that make you question human behavior and society, definitely check it out, but get ready to start hoarding all the water you own. 8/10

Jackass!: Okay this one’s a manga, but I’m still counting it. Honestly I don’t even know how to describe the plot...there’s two boys...there’s pantyhose...there’s a fun side character who is openly gay and doesn’t take shit from anyone...there’s introspection about how to deal with developing feelings and realizing you care about someone. It has the most awkward premise ever, but it’s unfairly good I promise. The less you know going in the better. 8.5/10

TV Shows!

The Umbrella Academy: A family of seven children with super powers who were “adopted” by an eccentric billionaire become child superheroes. So naturally, they all grow into jaded adults who are now tasked with saving the world from the inevitable apocalypse. And it’s...amazing. Like, this should be the new Stranger Things amazing. It’s a Netflix original based off the Dark Horse comic series, and it has one of the most binge worthy plots I’ve ever seen. It is capable of pulling off some very weird things because it just leans into it. The setting and aesthetic is very similar to A Series of Unfortunate Events where different time periods seem to collide, and it works pretty well. It has (mostly) likable characters, interesting and/or empathetic villains, great use of music and editing, and Emmy worthy performances. The only thing I don’t like (aside from them killing off a perfectly interesting character for no reason at the beginning of the show) is the romantic relationship between two of the siblings. Because naturally they had to put a romance in it, and it just sort of conforms to the idea of “adopted siblings aren’t related so it’s not weird.” But even they have some great scenes together so I can’t be too annoyed. It’s amazing. Please watch it. 10/10

Ducktales (2017): The reboot of Ducktales, in which the three nephews of Donald Duck go on mysterious adventures with their obscenely wealthy uncle. I’m pretty sure we all know this as the cartoon where Scrooge McDuck swims in his giant pool of money. It took me a long time to get to, but I like it! Webby is an amazing character, and even though the boys can be annoying, at least they all have their own personalities. I just wish Launchpad was a little less...stereotypically clueless. I’ve never seen the original series, so I can’t compare them, but I’d recommend it for everyone who likes Gravity Falls style mysteries and satisfying story arcs. 8.5/10

Carmen Sandiego (2019): The Netflix original animated series that focuses on a master thief who travels the world stealing important artifacts before an evil organization can get to them first...AND HOLY CRAP WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS!? I don’t know anything about the original Carmen Sandiego franchise, but dang this revamp is awesome. Carmen is a great character who banters enough to be a Marvel protagonist, there’s unique animation, some mystery, and its own twists. The side characters may not be for everyone, but I like them...well, most of them. Apparently the purpose of the original franchise was to be educational, so they do sound like they’re reading the Wikipedia page for every new place they visit in the beginning of each episode, but at least the cultural things they mention always come back into play later. If you liked the new She-Ra or shows with great heroines, PLEASE WATCH IT! 9/10

Queer Eye (season 3): The third season of the ridiculous makeover show where five fabulous gay men rocket into people’s lives to boost their self confidence and keep them from living in filth. I hate that I love this show so much. I don’t like things that try to be overly emotional, but dang it, this show will just make you feel happy...and then sad...and then happy again. 10/10

Honorable Mentions

THE LAST SEASON OF STAR VS THE FORCES OF EVIL IS AIRING! Stop sleeping on this gem people!

Netflix finally released the rest of Arrested Development season 5

I started watching Yu Yu Hakusho because it’s a classic and the dub is hilarious.

I also started watching The Librarians. It’s...something that’s for sure.

And I’m currently reading Reign the Earth which is basically Avatar the Last Airbender set all in the desert.

[tessatechaitea]

The Extremist #3

I'm disappointed that this half picture doesn't match up exactly with the half picture from Issue #2.

It's probably good I didn't post any of the blurbs that tried to bribe him with a handjob in the backroom of the Portland Comic-con.

Anyway, let's see what happened in "July, Nineteen Ninety-Three"! I'll try to baby it up so Tumblr doesn't shit its diapers.

Peter Milligan begins this issue all Peter Milligany.

Remember that this was written in 1993 when Peter Milligan makes mention of how a person could, at some point, be alone in anything. But also imagine now how the death of an intimate would go in 2019. Back in 1993, Judy is surprised to find that she's whisked away from her grief for long interludes by the bureaucratic machinations of a death in a capitalist democracy. This same kind of thing probably still happens except with more texts and emails and less phone conversations and driving to speak to people in person. But also imagine the non-bureaucratic side of death. We probably have far less close intimate contacts in our physical space now than we had in 1993, at least by percentage when compared with all people we would consider contacts (intimates who now live in another part of the world, people we know only from online, friends of friends we've maybe met once but now sometimes interact with over social media). In 1993. it would be phone calls and personal visits with flowers and cake or cookies. In 2019, you probably receive a deluge of crying emojis and people replying "*hugs*" to your post about your world crumbling beneath you as you try to stagger on with your remaining years bereft of the person you thought you could never live without. I suppose there are plenty of apps where people could send you cakes and cookies so I suppose it wouldn't be too terrible. Should I create an app that sends cakes and cookies to people when they've lost a loved one? It wouldn't cost anything. You'd just have to send me a small cake and some cookies with every use of the app! I can't wait to get extraordinarily fat! The journey is going to be so worth it!

Grief is a savory, selfish feast.

Peter Milligan has a way of expressing potent, terrible truths in such a casual manner that most people probably don't even notice them. There's an almost expressible power in believing you're experiencing something that nobody else has or will ever experience. Or just in knowing that you lived a part of your life unknown to your closest friends and family. I cherish, greedily, the moments of my life spent alone and far from those closest to me and I parcel them out as stories in only the most meager of manners. Hell, I've probably told more about myself and my experiences here on this blog exactly because I know my friends and family don't read it. I might say this every commentary until this series is over but I still don't know if I understand the point of the overall plot. But I do understand that the plot is a way for Peter Milligan to be Peter Milligan. I understand the need for a framework to say things you want to say. Or to just put scenes out there that you don't want to bother encasing in some kind of larger whole that you're less interested in. So here's another scene Peter Milligan had to have thought about and then needed a place to mention it:

Of course people still get horny for their dead partner! But how often does anybody talk about it?! Maybe it's common and I'm just consuming the wrong kinds of media. Alex Trebek never once asked a contestant if they jerk off thinking about their dead spouse!

Netflix's Dead to Me has some pretty frank discussions about the loss of a spouse but while Christina Applegate talks about being horny and wanting to fuck somebody, I don't think she ever says she masturbates thinking about her dead husband. If the point of this story is about dealing with loss, I'm beginning to get it. And that would completely explain why I missed it at twenty-one. I'm only three pages into this issue and it's kicking me in the face with existential issues. Was I too dumb at twenty-one to understand any of this or just too sheltered to really feel it? Maybe I was just too fucking young. Judy finds the key to Jack's Extremist apartment. After looking around the place, she thinks, "It was like having Jack die all over again, but this death seemed more profound. 'I never knew you,' I thought." It's an easy statement to point out that nobody ever really knows anybody. But once, because Jim Starling wrote a terrible run on Stormwatch, I wrote an entire rant about how we all hide our innermost dark secrets from even the greatest loves of our lives. I was essentially asking how can we know anyone if we won't even let those closest to us know our most vulnerable thoughts and terrible crimes (I don't mean crimes in the law and order sense! I just mean like that time you put your finger in your ass and then made sandwiches for your friends and they all got sick and you didn't do it on purpose but you made the connection and nobody must ever fucking know! You know, those kinds of crimes. But not that specific one! I totally just made that one up for effect). So I could repeat myself or just link to the rant or just (and — Spoiler! — this is the choice I'm going with!) move on to page five of this comic book. Judy discovers an old diary written by The Extremist (but not Jack!). Then she finds some of the tapes he burned and salvages a few. She hears Jack speaking about murder and getting pissed on and, most appallingly, calling her "poor dull dead little Judy." She smashes the place up, finds The Extremist's gimp suit, and tries it on thinking, "What the fuck?! Maybe I'll feel sexy and start speaking in sex metaphors!" Then the phone rings. And I suppose the rest is history! And by history, I mean Issue #1! Except I'm only on page seven so maybe I'm jumping the gun. I guess we need to learn how Judy met Patrick and why she decided her life would be better by going out at night murdering people until she comes hard in a leather suit. Oh, I hope that last sentence wasn't too adult for Tumblr! A bunch of pages are taken up by the plot stuff that I apparently paid the most attention to in 1993 and which is the least interesting part of the story (so far!). Patrick "accidentally" runs into Judy and he pretends he doesn't know who killed Jack. He offers to help her find out if she'll pose as The Extremist and do murders and blow jobs for him. Judy is all, "What the hell! Maybe I'll understand Jack a little more! Maybe I'll know why he needed a boring piece of shit like me when he was having such fantastic fuck and murder adventures!" No wait. That's what I would say. Judy just wants to find out who killed Jack and to, maybe, feel a little closer to him. I don't think she's as amped up as I would be about the loads of indiscriminate sex and murdering of the most perverse perverts. The main story ends with Judy making her first kill. She learns that her problem was that she was always living in the past and the future. So even if she had wanted to kill somebody in the moment before, she'd be all tangled up in the past and whether the person deserved it and maybe some of it was her fault and perhaps she's been too hasty with her murder decision. And she'd also be lost in the future like how the person will stop existing and how she might wind up in prison and how the victim's guts are going to be hell to clean up off the floor. But in the moment, she can just satisfy the need without consequence or conscience! She discovers it's a thrill! Well, I could have told her that! I've been playing Dungeons and Dragons since I was ten! Never worry about what the orc did or if it deserved it or if it has family or if you're actually the asshole raiding its lovely home! The actual issue ends with Tony, the black guy on the stoop, sitting in The Extremist's apartment listening to Judy's tapes. He's just finished the last one where she says she's going off to kill Patrick and he's completely caught up in the drama. He wants to know who killed who just as badly as, well, not me but I'm sure some readers were on the edge of their seat at this point. The Extremist #3 Rating: B. I don't find myself caring about the framework. But Peter Milligan has thoughts and those thoughts are well worth the admission price to this story. In a way, this is just an extension of his run on Shade the Changing Man. It's almost the same story if you squint your eyes and unfocus your vision and punch yourself in the genitals. Patrick is the guy on Meta who was pulling the strings to get Shade to go into the Area of Madness and eventually Earth (I forget his name! I bet it was Patrick!) And The Extremist is Shade and Kathy too (they both have similarities to both Judy and Jack, so I don't mean to say either Shade or Kathy is essentially one or the other). The Extremist has crazy missions where they kill and fuck just like Shade and Kathy had! I think. I mean, probably! And Tony is just Lenny in someway that I haven't spent any time thinking about but they were the only characters left!