Tumgik
#illustrated covers still appear to the majority by far
mademoiselle-red · 6 months
Text
Reading the Renault fandom dissertation, part 4: the online TC fandom analysis begins…
An academic decided to write about us, online fans of Mary Renault’s works, for her phd dissertation in 2018, and as the subject of her research, I will be covering & commenting on what she wrote over a series of posts ✍️📑 (Here is part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, and part 6)
For part 4, we begin to delve into Chou’s analysis of the online TC fandom, which she calls the “millennial fandom” because it sprung up in the new millennium (the mid-2000s).
“While Renault’s works have mostly lost their relevance for readers of historical fiction and gay literature, Renault has found a new fandom in internet communities. On LiveJournal.com, the social networking website that has been a platform for many fandom communities since 1999, there are two major communities devoted to Renault and her works: maryrenaultfics (since 2004) and maryrenault (2005). While these communities have become less active due to decreasing popularity of LiveJournal itself, Renault fandom is still active on more recent fandom platforms such as Tumblr and Archive of Our Own”
So far this checks out. These are all the places we have congregated in.
“Renault’s new fans are not the “older gay men” who have gone digital, nor are they the “serious-minded teenagers” interested in classical times, or the academics who are finally paying the author her long-overdue attention. The cult popularity that Renault’s works achieved in the community of online fan “prosumers,” especially for those who are interested in “slash”—fantasy about male homoeroticism largely produced for and by women—demands a renewed examination of how Renault’s works could be reread and re-evaluated.”
I’m pretty sure there are middle aged men, academics, and serious minded history-obsessed teens among us. But cis women (and bisexual folks) do comprise half of the fandom (according to an informal poll I ran a while back).
“According to Fanlore Wiki, one of the largest Wikipedia websites about English- speaking fan activities, one of Renault’s LiveJournal community has been in existence since 2004, aptly named “Mary’s Handmaidens.” On the Fanlore page about “Mary’s Handmaidens,” a passage describes the gender and sexual constituent of the online community: “The community includes members of both sexes, with (by comparison with many other fandoms) a notable contingent of men, though the majority of writers of fan fiction are women. Various sexual orientations are represented among the membership.” The statement about a “notable contingent of men” is a curious one compared to the “handmaidens” in the title of the community. Despite its consciously inclusive taglines (“the community includes members of both sexes”, “various sexual orientations are represented”), the community adopts a female persona as its identity.”
This is a fair point! The handmaidens group name really wasn’t inclusive. And cis women did and still do comprise the largest group in Renault fandoms (and slash fandoms in general).
“Another example of Renault’s Internet fandom is The Theban Band’s fan arts based on Renault’s novels (see fig. 4). Among fan artworks on Renault’s works by The Theban Band, one piece based on The Charioteer illustrates serial lines of flights from the fans to Renault, from Renault to her characters, and then from her characters to antiquity (see fig. 5). The artwork demonstrates the fantastical disposition of the simultaneous disidentification and cross- identification with otherness, which in the scene depicted is embodied in a leap to another time and place. This artwork captures the moment in which Ralph and Laurie’s flirtatious book-exchange takes place in The Charioteer.”
Tumblr media
What about this above image demonstrates disidentification and cross-identification with its subject matter? It appears to be a just a faithful visual rendition of the scene from the novel.
“If Ralph is attempting to initiate Laurie to homosexuality, it is interesting that the knowledge of homosexuality that he passes on (instead of homosexuality itself) is explained as a fantasy. In this scene of erotic initiation of a young boy, the only physical contact between the two characters is through a book that is “just a nice idea.” In the same scene, the two are depicted as dangerously close to a kiss In the passage, Ralph merely makes an “outward movement” and then steps back. What takes place in between, the “[h]alf-remembered images” of “the tents of Troy, the columns of Athens, David waiting in an olive grove for the sound of Jonathan’s bow” preoccupy Laurie’s mind strangely more so than the immediate presence of Ralph.”
I guess she is on the no-kiss team for chapter 2. 😚
“Together with the Phaedrus that Laurie physically receives, the fantasy of a homoerotic past mediates the modern, homosexual relationship between Laurie and Ralph throughout the entire story. In this sense, Phaedrus functions for the two characters much like how Renault’s books function for her readers. The Charioteer is an adoring look to the past clothed as a story about the inner struggles of a modern homosexual, or, more precisely, about how the struggles must be negotiated through a fantasy of the past. Renault’s books were for her mid-century gay readers “a badge of homosexuality” in much the same way Plato’s Phaedrus is for Ralph and Laurie: a communication about desire in the present through a collective fantasy of a past that contains the ideal form of that desire. […] Laurie looks back into a mythical past in order to contextualize his homosexuality, and Renault herself turns to the idea of Greek Love to write about male homoeroticism. In a similar way, the 21st-century fans locate in Renault’s works a kind of male homoeroticism that seems unavailable in the here and now of post-gay sexual politics.”
What are post-gay sexual politics? In what way precisely is the kind of male homoeroticism in Renault’s works, and in TC in particular (since this passage focuses on TC) no longer available in the here and now? While things have improved a lot for queer people, especially here in the west, homophobia has not gone away! Do all LGBTQ people in the Americas and Europe (where Renault’s books are published) no longer face familial and social ostracism after coming out? Readers both in the old livejournal and here on tumblr have mentioned how they could relate to TC because they come from homophobic families and communities. Through TC and the Greek novels, people can read about characters experiencing similar emotions and situations, across time, space and sometimes gender, and feel comforted, knowing that they are not alone, that this love exists, it is real, and it will find a way.
“The three-fold leap in time for Renault’s millennial fans constitutes a fantasy that is thrice removed from the “reality” of sexual desire. If Ralph and Laurie could be said to negotiate their own identity through an ancient Greek philosopher, and if as critics have argued, Renault masks her own lesbian identity by male homoeroticism located both temporally and cultural distant from her own, it is much more difficult to argue that there is a sexual truth being filtered through Plato, Renault’s characters, and finally Renault herself for the millennial fans.”
While Laurie & Ralph and the mid-century gay readers use The Phaedrus / The Charioteer to communicate their sexuality through “a collective fantasy of a past that contains the ideal form of that desire”, the “millennial fans”, according to Chou, are too far removed from the “reality” of sexual desire to receive “a sexual truth.” This assumes that the millennial fans do not use The Charioteer to explore and understand their own sexuality and cannot relate their own sexual realities to the same-sex desires depicted in the novel. This, as I said in the paragraph above, is not true, since many readers in these online communities do identify as LGBTQ+ and can relate to LGBTQ+ experiences. It is true that many of the millennial fans are not specifically gay men using these gay books to reveal their sexualities to each other. And there are indeed straight women among us, but in my experience, we are definitely NOT a majority straight-women group. Most of us are queer people who, like Ralph/Laurie and the mid-century gay readers, have found each other through this book (as friends and as lovers ❤️)
My commentary on Chou’s online TC fandom analysis continues in part 5, and a tumblr username familiar to many of us here makes a surprising appearance in the dissertation 👀👀👀
14 notes · View notes
cassiopeiagarcia · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
‘Can you go pick Hércules up?’
‘Me? Why me?’
‘Because you’re also his older sister?’
Oh. True. Sometimes Cass forgot her and Hércules weren’t the same age, since they behaved pretty much like twins. Tweedledee and Tweedledum. Or, if you wanted something slightly more national, as the siblings were Spanish… Zipi and Zape.
She nodded in Andro’s direction, watching as she disappeared.
It was weird for Cass to feel that she was so close to Hércules, who was two years her junior, and to see Andro so, so far, even if she was merely a year older. So distant. Like something that you see is there but can’t quite grasp, like grains of sand escaping your closed fist at the Beach, doing it so at an alarming rate…
She sighed. It wasn’t like it was Andro’s fault. The black-haired woman just acted that way because her parents had never really stepped up and proven worthy of the title of mum and dad. Just those words made Cass cringe. Mum. Dad. People you could look at, recognize certain features from: the slanted eyes belonged to Fernando, the crooked grin was clearly María’s, as were the red curls that only Cass had inherited… but the moment they opened their mouths and tried their hardest to strike a conversation: nothing. A blank page, waiting to be filled.
They had shared so many moments, spent so many years in the same home. But they were strangers.
That’s why Andro and her hadn’t moved to the student’s residence hall, and were still living at the family house. Because Hérc had to be in high school for a couple of years more and they couldn’t really do that to him, leave him alone with the ghosts that once had been their loving parents.
Substance abuse did that to you.
She didn’t have class until after lunch, so she went to the library, carrying a pink backpack in one shoulder, filled to the brim with painting tools, with notebooks that she used both for drawing and taking notes, and a pencil case. She didn’t really use her laptop, preferring to do things the traditional way. And… also, she was very scatterbrained. Cass was certain that if she had brought a computer, she would end up the class watching the weirdest YouTube videos about urban legends and random fun facts she had no one to tell them to.
But… that wasn’t completely right, was it?
Cass had always been a loner. For the entirety of high school, and starting university hadn’t really changed that fact. It was not like she didn’t have any friends. She did, just very few of them, and ones she had a pretty impersonal relationship with. Her only real connections in this world were Hércules, Andro and their friend Airi, or so it had been up until a few months ago, when she had met Alex.
Curious circumstances, that which had brought them together. A group of students from the Communications major had appeared a random day in Cass’ drawing class, asking if someone could help them with a quick issue. They were doing a video on the university, and needed a person who could do an illustration for the cover. Something that would draw attention, something that would make people immediately click on it, but that was true to the spirit of the institution.
Luck had it, Cass had just had a bad experience with one of her teachers, because he had criticized one of her drawings for being too shocking, too attention grabbing, and had asked her to stay in line because the dean doesn’t approve of this sort of things…
By the end of that day, those Communications students had a digital drawing sent to their emails, greatly inspired by 1984, George Orwell’s book: a picture of the university dean in a huge TV, sporting a mustache not unlike Hitler’s, and dozens of students dressed in prison uniforms, crying and begging and throwing money in the air, all because they wanted a piece of paper in which the word ‘Degree’ could be read.
Of course, they hadn’t chosen it. But Alex and her had become friends ever since.
Cass wouldn’t say it out loud, but she liked him. She liked him very, very much. But he was not into her – that much was painfully obvious. They had even slept together a few times, after parties that had gotten out of control… but just slept. They had both woken up in each other arms, their bodies still covered with the same number of clothes they had the night before. There had been some moments something deep inside of Cass had screamed yes, yes, yes, now is the time, first kiss… but no. Nothing.
It was fine, however. Having him as a friend was better than not having him in her life at all.
And it was not like she was going to confess out loud and ruin the whole thing.
And yet… the idea of it was always lingering, floating around her, especially when she saw him. Like now, in the library, with his headphones on, hunched over a computer, working on some project whose deadline was approaching at vertiginous speed, probably.
Cass approached him from behind. She thought about scaring him, but if she did, she would undoubtedly get scolded by the librarian or any of the many students around. So she contented herself with lightly tapping his shoulder, giving him a kiss in the cheek before plummeting to the chair next to him, leaving her backpack on the table.
‘Guess who has to go pick up her little brother after class?’ Cass pointed to herself, rolling her eyes. ‘Andro can’t. Probably sleeping with some substitute teacher, or something.’ She chuckled, moving her body so that it was closer to his, placing her chin on his shoulder to get a view of his laptop’s screen.
‘What are you doing?’
Her fingers, covered in dry paint, were now playing with his blond curls. Anyone who saw them would have thought they were a couple… better, Cass thought to herself, because she knew the moment Alex found a girlfriend would be a very, very, very sad day for her.
Cass wasn’t stupid. He was incredibly handsome. He was kind, generous, caring, intelligent, had a tragic backstory, a beautiful singing voice and played almost any instrument. He was about to be done with university, too. All of these things made him the perfect boy, and a lot of other girls seemed to think so, too.
She had heard them whisper around the corridors. In parties, they always tried to approach him. Why, exactly, he preferred spending time with her than with them, Cass didn’t quite know, but she was thankful for it.
‘Did you listen to Vessel’s show yesterday?’
Vessel was the host of a radio show in the university radio. He ran the night slot, where he talked about random stuff, played some weird and cryptic music. Cass had kind of started listening to it as a joke, but now, she didn’t miss a day. She hate-listened to it, because she disagreed with most of the young man’s opinions about music. How dared he play Katatonia at three in the morning, when she was studying for exams, instead of something a little bit more cheerful, a little bit more… alive!?
‘I called again. He probably hates me by now.’ Cass showed her shark-like grin, full of teeth, cheeky, and slightly lopsided. ‘I just wish I knew who he was! He does have a nice voice. I would love to share a coffee with him.’
Cass shrugged. She had told this to Airi and Andro earlier that morning, and both had agreed that next time she called she needed to ask him on a date.
‘But Alex…’
‘This has been going on for months! Are you going to confess?’
‘And ruin our friendship? Nuh uh. Plus, I’ve told you this, I don’t think he likes me…’
‘I mean, you have a point. If he did, he would have tried something with you already. All the more reason to ask this Vessel guy out.’
Maybe she actually would. Why not? She didn’t think she would like him as much as she liked Alex, but well… perhaps she could try, see if something came out of it.
@j-ofspades
6 notes · View notes
skittidyne · 2 years
Note
hi skitty!! im a huge fan of bbac forever and im sooo excited at the prospect of originale!! i was wondering if theres anything u can share about the story - just fun facts n shit, little tidbits if u will. im rereading the chapters u put up ages ago and it just made me so excited to eventually read it!!
aww, thank you anon! ;v; i'm also very excited (and nervous) to share originale with the world. but there's plenty i can share!
most nosebleeds are, very tragically, mostly only in backstory
the first book covers through to the dreamlands incident*
*with some major edits of the plot timeline prior to that...
there are two puns in the story, one of which is pulled from bbac itself ("wouldn't dream of it" in regard to the dreamlands). the other one is a stealth pun and i hope one day someone figures it out
the main cast are named after various horror creators (and characters), and i specifically gave yui's role to a lady called hayley west so she is, in fact, h. west reanimator
several beta readers have mentioned disliking a certain character and i am TICKLED by it, especially considering he was a fan fave in bbac
i do not have a title for the second book yet .__. but i have names for books 4 and 5
given that three of the main characters (vivienne, mark, and hayley) are weebs, i'll work a haikyuu reference or nine into it eventually, but not yet
shockingly i am not as in love with the kitsune role (now gumiho!) as i was with futakuchi. but i still enjoy writing fox spirits!
i have zero idea what to envision for covers
i have looked into hardcovers if i self-publish
it'll be around 400 pages (first book)
i have the shirt picked out i'll wear for when i make announcement pics for social media
instead of visions only toward the end we'll have shorter ones as interstitials between all the chapters for the series to hammer in that natalie is a stealth mc
i am undecided on whether to go romantic or platonic for two pairings that were full ships in bbac
i am GUTTED that i had to move one character's introduction and thus role into book 2 onward, because she's great and hilarious, and it's extra hilarious because we actually know her by two different roles in the book and i'm wondering at what point people will realize that. also she speaks like a valley girl twitch gamer. because she is one.
sam appears very much to be the fan favorite character so far. which is so valid he's such a good bean
i'm heavily considering moving up my deadline to publish to this summer ("skitty, it's may" yeah i know) so i can hopefully help finance a move
i very much want to write a creature compendium side book a la fantastic beasts and probably will eventually given that it's already partially written (the issue is illustrations...)
mirai (one of the tengu) turned out to be a stealth fave to write because they are SUCH a hot mess but also go :3! whenever their love interest is around
i'm writing mass effect fanfic now and i thank god every day i have so much practice writing weird-ass backward knees with the tengu for those aliens
the afanc is in book 2
there will be more than one old moon ball in the series because i am NOT writing on a half-year timeline ever again (did you guys know what my current mass effect novel has)
the jackalope's name is pyewacket
isaac will get his familiar way earlier than kenma did but it will still be midna and she will still look like this because that is vital to my wellbeing
sunshine remains sunshine because he's actually a multidimensional immortal cat, that's what the failed experiment did to him
my dad made the eventual hunting knife emil will have, because he's just extra like that. in the book it has a partial werewolf bone handle. i cannot legally state what the real counterpart handle is. but i'm also thinking about doing a giveaway way later in the series for it (because apparently it's legal to ship knives in the us! thanks america) because i like to be entrepreneurial and think about fun marketing things. it's also fun to think about "hey you like this book series? enter this giveaway! you can win A KNIFE"
(along that vein there are also keychain bottles of angel blood, demon blood, and luck...)
31 notes · View notes
leftoverenvy · 2 years
Text
Tastes Like Sugar (ch. 17)
Tumblr media
Summary: India Mae, or Indi, is a music major, struggling to pay bills, tuition, work, and make good grades.  Emily Prentiss is a BAU profiler, as well as a DC socialite thanks to her huge family fortune.  The two enter into a mutually beneficial arrangement: Emily will pay for Indi's school if Indi accompanies Emily to her social functions for a few months, posing as her girlfriend.  As weeks go by, the lines between their arrangement and their true feelings start to blur.  But money can't buy love, right?
Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss
Warnings: canon mentions of abortion; discussions of kinks and BDSM (18+)
Word Count: 3.2k
Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Previous Chapters
Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🧸; @5raysofsunshine 🌮; @reidselle 🦭; @milfprotector 🐝💚; @gaelic-symphony 🎻 ; @scargarcia-magshotchner 💜; @sadgirlml 🌻💌; @hotchs-bitch ; @multiverse-mxdness ; @spencersendgame
Chapter 17 - Emily's Secrets
A/n: For those of you who haven't read Slaughterhouse Five, the following explanation is from SparkNotes just to give you a little more context for Emily's tattoo:
"The phrase 'so it goes' appears after every mention of death and mortality in Slaughterhouse-Five. This seemingly flippant phrase reflects a Tralfamadorian philosophy that comforts Billy Pilgrim: while a person is dead in one particular moment, they are still alive and well in all of the other moments of their life, because all of time exists at once. Billy appreciates the simplicity of the Tralfamadorian response to death, and every time he encounters a dead person, he 'simply shrug[s]' and says 'so it goes.' The repetition of this phrase also illustrates how war desensitizes people to death, since with each passive mention of 'so it goes,' the narrator is subtly tallying the death toll."
______________________________
Emily's POV: My eyes drifted open earlier than I would have anticipated.  I relished in the warm body wrapped snugly in my arms.  I trailed my fingers up and down her arm, her skin soft and glowing in the morning's light.  She was so good, so pure, glowing and ethereal.  What was I thinking?
Self-loathing crashed into me like a train.  I was undeserving of a girl like India.  That was the whole reason I had tried to stay away so long.  And I fucked it up by indulging myself last night.  But the way she had looked at me all night shut down all rational thought in me, made me forget exactly why I had denied myself this in the first place.  She didn't actually know me.  Hell, I wasn't sure even I knew me.
India deserved someone who hadn't killed, someone who wasn't a professional liar.  India deserved someone who was as sure of themselves as she was.  More importantly, India deserved someone who liked normal, sweet, vanilla sex.  She was an innocent, young, untainted angel.  The only thing I would do would be to ruin that for her.  This would never work out.  She deserved so much better than me.
This was a one-time mistake.  It could never happen again.  Mistake though it was, I couldn't regret last night.  It may have been the most vanilla sex I had ever had, but it was so special to me.  Seeing India like that made my heart swell; I loved that she trusted me like that with her body, her most bare self.  But that's exactly why this had to end.  I vowed that was the last time. 
But feeling her in my arms made it impossible to fully convince myself I could follow through.  I was far too selfish to deny myself this.  I pressed my lips against her shoulder, inhaling deeply to smell the sweet smell of her hair.  Everything about her was so charming, appealing.  I had no hope of resisting her magnetism.
A few more minutes, I begged myself.  But I didn't deserve any more of her time like this.  Naked, vulnerable, trusting.  I gently, slowly untangled our limbs and slid out of bed, leaving behind a still-sleeping, perfect angel under covers.  I had to get out of there.  Any more time with her and I would cave completely.  I quietly dressed in the closet, brushed my teeth, washed my face, and went downstairs so as not to disturb India.
I flopped on the couch, sighing deeply.  I warred back and forth with what I knew was best for her and what I desperately wanted.  Did she deserve better?  Absolutely.  But I wasn't sure I could just forget that last night happened and go back to just being friends.  I needed her.  She made me want to be the kind of woman she deserved.  Part of that was letting her in, letting her see me.  No matter how much the thought terrified me, it was time to tell India about my past.  I really wanted to make this work with her.  It was difficult to reign in my terror at being so vulnerable with someone.  I was giving her all the power to absolutely destroy me.
I felt two soft arms wrap around me from behind, her hands smoothing down my chest as she leaned over the back of the couch.  Just the touch of her warm hands thawed everything in my stone heart.  It was easy enough to swear to stay away from her when she wasn't here, but when she was near me, all bets were off.  I couldn't stop myself if I tried.  And if I were honest with myself, I didn't really want to try.  Because last night was amazing.
I grabbed her arms and pulled, helping her over the back of the couch.  I pulled her on top of me, settling her tiny frame over mine like a blanket.  I immediately pressed my lips to hers.  Though it had only been a few hours since I had kissed her last – we had a very late night and not much sleep – it was still too long to go without her kiss.  I snaked my arm around her waist, ensuring she couldn't go anywhere.  I slowed my lips and pulled back, guiding her head to my chest. 
She shifted down and snuggled in, her lips softly pressing against my collarbone before laying down.  I softly kissed the top of her head and trailed my fingers up and down her spine.  We laid together in blissful silence for a few moments.  What had I been thinking?  Did I honestly think I could stay away from her?
"I missed you; I woke up alone…" she said softly.
I kissed the top of her head again.  "I'm sorry, baby.  I didn't want to disturb you sleeping.  You looked so peaceful," I said running my fingers through her hair.
She hummed in appreciation.  "That feels nice," she sighed.  I dragged my nails lightly over her scalp, eliciting another soft sigh.  She tipped her head back, kissed below my jaw.  I had never felt more relaxed.
"Indi?"
"Hmm?"  She sounded as blissed out as I felt.
"I was wondering what this means."
"What what means?"  Her brain was playing catch up.
"I was wondering how this might affect our agreement…"
"Nothing has to change, Emily."  Her lips continued to softly kiss down my neck and chest.
My stomach dropped.  Confusion flooded me – her words and actions not matching up.  "You want things to go back to how they were before?"
Her lips paused.  Sensing my seriousness, she pushed up and sat up so we could have a conversation.  I followed suit.  "I just mean," she corrected, "that things could be exactly how they were before, maybe now we just kiss and have sex instead of going insane with lust."
Feeling appeased, I smirked at her.  "You were going insane with lust?"
"I–"  She tried to backpedal, her cheeks blushing slightly.  I snickered at her, and her eyes narrowed at me.  "You always call me dangerous, but I don't think you see how dangerous you are, Emily Prentiss."
"So, nothing changes?" I asked to confirm.
"Uh, well I'd like to continue having sex," she said with a smirk.  I rolled my eyes at her teasing expression.  "But uhm…"  She bit at her lip.  "Should I move out?"
"Why?!" I asked, slightly panicked.
"I don't know, because this is…well what is this?  A relationship?"
"I would say so."
"So when I say you're my girlfriend, it isn't just pretend now?"  I grabbed her hand.  I hadn't expected the title to bring me so much joy.  I now had a real claim to her.
I pressed my lips to the back of her hand.  "Yes," I said softly.
"Well, if we're girlfriends, most couples don't already live together at this stage.  So should I move out?"
"Please don't," I pleaded softly.
"What will people think though?  We've only known each other a few weeks."
"Almost three months," I corrected.  "Besides, who cares what people think?"  She flinched just slightly, and her eyes tightened.  As a profiler, I couldn't turn off my training to observe micro-expressions.  "You care."  It wasn't a question.
She looked down to admit softly, "I'm just worried about your friends, Em."
"Is this about JJ?" I asked, unable to hide the edge in my voice.  I wasn't mad at Indi; I was in disbelief that JJ had the gall to say those things in front of Indi last night.
She shook her head, and then a beat later, shrugged slightly.  "It's not not about JJ."
"Babe," I said, at a loss for more words.
"I'm just worried how you're going to be perceived.  I saw other headlines before we started this.   I don't want you to be vilified in the press simply because they think I'm a gold digger.  Even worse, I don't want you to feel embarrassed in front of your friends because they think that too."
"Angel, they don't.  They're happy I'm happy."  She looked at me pointedly.  "JJ doesn't count.  She's just a coworker.  I don't care what she thinks."
"Em, I don't want to come between you and your friends."  Her downtrodden tone broke my heart.
"Honey, JJ isn't a friend.  She's made that perfectly clear twice now.  If she isn't supportive of this, of my happiness, she isn't a friend.  She's a self-centered, vindictive ex.  As far as I'm concerned, JJ doesn't matter at all.  Please don't let that stop you from committing to this."
"I'm worried I'm not enough for you," she whispered, nearly inaudibly.
"What?!" I gasped.  Surely, she didn't actually think that.
"You're just so accomplished and gorgeous.  Unbelievably caring…I'm just a musician…I can't offer you anything.  I just can't see why this is a good idea for you."  She refused to look at me, her fingers twisting around themselves in worry.  I grabbed her hands – those blessed, beautiful hands – and squeezed them.
"Baby," I gasped.  "You don't see yourself clearly at all.  You balance me, keep my perspective.  You bring so much joy into my life."  I paused, wondering if I could do this, but India needed this, so I broke down the last bit of the wall around my heart.  "Growing up, I was always moving around.  My mom's an ambassador, you know?"  She nodded.  "So I was always moving around for her postings.  It was impossible to make friends.
"You know in high school, making friends is the only thing you want.  High school is unbearable when you don't fit in.  I did whatever I could to make friends.  And-" I breathed in deeply.  Even all these years later, it was difficult to talk about the impossible choice I had to make.  "I got pregnant," I admitted softly.
"Em," she gasped.  She squeezed my hand tighter.  And that's when I fully realized what I had been missing all these years.  Life was hard, but when you had someone's unconditional support, it didn't feel quite so insurmountable.
"I obviously aborted it," I continued.  I steeled myself to talk about this next part.  I wanted to show India all parts of myself, but part of this story was classified.
"I can't tell you a lot about this next part as a matter of global security, but I'd like to share some of it.  I just need you to not ask a lot of questions," I prefaced.
"Are you joking?"
"No," I said seriously.  Her eyes sobered, and she nodded for me to continue.  "I was assigned an uncover job to gather information about an international crime syndicate.  To do so, I was to pretend to fall in love with the head of the organization.  For so long, I lived a lie, until things got lost and blurred for me.  I didn't know what was real and what was the job anymore.  I didn't know who I was anymore."
"What was your assumed name?" she asked knowingly.  I could see she had already put the pieces together.
"Lauren Reynolds," I admitted.
"Baby," she whispered sympathetically.  She crawled into my lap, holding me close.  My heart swelled at her gesture.  I had never felt so cared for, so loved.
"I was depressed for months after the job ended.  When Lauren Reynolds died, I think a bit of me did too."
"So it goes," she whispered, referencing my tattoo.
"So it goes," I repeated.  "I had completely lost myself, India.  I never let anyone in, too scared I'd lose myself again.  But now I know what romance can really look like – what it should look like.  I know how caring for someone and being cared for in return should feel."  I swept my thumb across her cheekbone, staring into her eyes.  "So don't give up now, please. 
"I'm happy for the first time in years.  You make me happy.  It doesn't matter that you're young, or that you're still in school.  None of that matters.  All that matters is how we feel.  I know it's early, but in these past few months, I somehow just know that my heart is safe with you.  So don't give up on me now.  Please."  I waited for her response nervously.
"I'm not giving up, Em.  You can't get rid of me that easily," she teased.  I pulled her in for a tight hug, her head naturally falling into the crook of my neck as if we had been doing this for years rather than mere months.
"While we're already having difficult conversations…"  I wasn't sure when I would ever feel this brave again, so I just jumped right in.  "Can I ask you about something?"
"Okay…" she said warily.
"This is…slightly awkward."  I shifted my weight, uncomfortable before the conversation even started.  "So, I wanted to ask what you know about BDSM," I rushed out.
Her eyes widened.  "Why?" she asked in shock.
I cleared my throat.  "I'm interested in exploring that with you…"  She gasped, her body tensing up slightly.
"Like Fifty Shades of Grey?" she asked timidly.
"Uh," I hated that that was the first thing she thought of, but if that's the connection she could make, I could work with it.  "Sort of.  Less domineering.  I'm not interested in being a true Domme.  I don't want to control every aspect of your life.  But…" I didn't know how to phrase this.
"You want all the other stuff?  The whips?  The…all of it?"  I nodded at her.  "Emily, I know I'm not all that experienced.  I'm sorry, I-"
I interrupted her.  I didn't think I could bear to hear her say no now.  "You don't have to give me an answer now.  And you don't even have to say yes.  I want to respect your boundaries.  But I also want to maybe explore what those boundaries actually are.  Will you let me help you explore that?"
She wasn't running away screaming, so I would take this as a good sign.  "What does this entail?" she asked.  Was that intrigue I heard in her voice?
"Well I can print you out a list of common fetishes and kinks.  You would need to tell me your hard limits, things you wouldn't be comfortable doing.  Soft limits are things you are hesitant about or would want to do only under certain circumstances.
"And after a scene is over, I'd make sure you were taken care of, physically and emotionally.  This is called aftercare; it's time to reconnect with each other to make sure we're both okay. 
"And if you ever thought you were comfortable and changed your mind, you would use a safe word – whatever you wanted it to be – and that would stop everything.  Often, I use the stoplight system.  Green means-"
"I know that one," she admitted softly.  I quirked an eyebrow at her.  "That one's in Fifty Shades."
"So you have seen it."
"I-I maybe liked it," she said, her eyes falling to her lap.  Hope bloomed in my chest.  Was it possible for this to work?
"So could we go over a few common kinks?"
"Uhm," her voice was breathless.  "Okay," she said softly.
"Bondage."
"Like handcuffs?"
"Among other things.  Rope, scarves, cuffs, anything to immobilize you," I explained.
"Yes," she said breathlessly.  My stomach clenched.
"How about discipline?  I give you some rules and if you disobey, you'd be punished."
Her voice deepened.  "How?"
"Spanking?"
"Yes."
"Other impact play?" I asked.  "Such as paddles, or floggers?"
"Maybe…"
"Edging?"  I held my breath.  This was one of my favorites.
"Uh, I don't know, Em.  I want to cum…"
"Then be good," I said simply.  She smirked at me, a gleam in her eye.  I wished I understood what it meant.
"Maybe," she said with pursed lips.
"How about breath play?"
"What's that?"
I cleared my throat.  "Choking."
She gasped.  "I think that would be okay."  My breathing stuttered.  She was a lot more receptive to this than I thought she was going to be.
"Would you be interested in using butt plugs?" I asked.
"Once…" Interesting.  I hadn't been expecting that answer.
"And what about using honorifics?  For example, during play, you would only address me as 'ma'am' or 'miss.'"  I held my breath; this one was a requirement.  Nothing made me hotter.
Understanding lit her eyes.  "Ohhhh," she whispered on an exhale.  I could almost see all the times she had called me ma'am flash before her eyes.  She had no idea what that did to me.  "That'd be fine."  Excitement crested in my chest at the thought of hearing her call me 'ma'am' again.
I needed to change the topic before I could work myself up.  "Group play?" I asked quickly
"No."  Her voice was firm and confident.
"Good.  I'm proud of you for expressing your limits."  I had a feeling she was saying 'maybe' just to please me, to say what she thought I wanted to hear.  "And I share that limit.  You're mine," I nearly growled.  I leaned in and captured her lips.  She was being so good, listening and taking this seriously.  I wanted her to know how much I appreciated it.
I pulled back after a few seconds, thrilling at the sight of her hooded, lusty eyes.  "How about pet play?" I started our game again.
"NO!" she shouted.
"Hey," I chided.  "No judgments.  Some people are into that."
"Sorry," she said bashfully, "Um.  Hard limit."  I pushed her bangs behind her ear and smiled softly.
"What about hot wax?"
"Could be interesting…"  Her eyes darkened further.
"Toys?"
I heard her breath catch.  "Toys?" she repeated.
"Vibrators, dildos, strap on…"
"Yes," she whispered.  Her mouth parted on a heavy exhale, her breathing rapid and eyes heavy.  She stared into my eyes, not saying anything further.  I was entranced, falling into her deep, brown eyes.  "Um."  She pulled back.  I could physically see a transition in her eyes.  Worry flooded them as she bit at her lower lip.  She scrambled off my lap and stood up.  "It's just a lot to take in!" she said in a panic.  She turned on her heel and rushed up the stairs.
I flopped back on the couch to lay down and covered my eyes with my hands.  I groaned loudly.  I was wrong to get excited that she was not running away.  I had expected her to run away when I started the conversation; I should have held that expectation. 
When I heard her door slam shut, sadness and regret washed over me.  Why had I even bothered?  Why wasn't it enough for me to just be with her normally?  Why hadn't I eased her into it?  Now she was going to run away, not just from sex, but from everything.  From us, from me.  I held back tears at the thought.  I had just gotten her; I couldn't lose her now.  I scrubbed my hands over my eyes, trying to rub the tears away.  What had I just done?
_ _ _
Continue to next chapter
20 notes · View notes
sapphiredhearts-a · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media
some of these are canon divergent / illustrated guide divergent but we hate smeyer in this home so i do not care < 3
in his human life emmett was the middle son of five . his three eldest brothers toughened him up as he grew - always play fighting & rough-housing in the woods in their spare time . with his younger sister, however, emmett was exceptionally gentle & cared for her almost as his own . when his mother had her he was five years old & he cooed over the wonder that was the small babe as soon as she was swaddled & passed around the room . from then on he carried her everywhere with him - calling her his baby & becoming very protective over her . he loved his brothers & wished to be like them - but his sister was by far his favorite family member aside from his mother .
emmett's mother was very kind & warm - always helping out the needy ... the type of woman who would give the clothes off her back for someone else . Emmett took after her the most - although he covered it up so as not to be ragged on by his brothers . his father was completely different . he was a tough man who never showed affection . his mother claimed he loved them very much & was different when they were younger but emmett often wondered how she could have ever fallen in love with the man .
human life was also very calm & routine like for the McCarty family . Emmett was very devoted during the daylight hours - working with his family at the railroad tracks & doing his best to bring home a good living despite how often hungover he was from the night before . on the weekends he spent the majority of his time hunting with his father and brothers to make sure his family always had food to eat as they weren't wealthy by any means .
at night emmett was quite the troublemaker . he would go out and spend the majority of his paycheck on booze and gambling at the card game faro and other games . he wasn't quite addicted to gambling as much as he was addicted to the rush of the other men praising him for outdoing men older than he ( especially if it were his brothers he cheated out of a few bucks ) . there were many times he was kicked out of places or ended up in brawls in the streets & his mother would tsk her tongue & fix him up when he finally arrived home . he was also known to pass out random places & have to be roused by a stranger or found by a sibling before his father found out . his father claimed he'd never amount to a good man and their relationship was very strained .
in addition to his wild escapades - emmett was also popular with women . the slight sensitive side he could show when he was drunk played well with them & they often fell head over heels for him quickly - wishing for courtship & marriage . emmett, however , hated the idea of being tied down . he was young & free & he liked not being held accountable to anyone . he planned to grow old alone & happy - hopefully buying land he could hunt on one day so he could finally quit the railroad . still , he grew lonely & led a lot of them on - he was a sucker for a pretty face after all - & grew the reputation as a womanizer .
emmett was being reckless the day he was attacked by the bear . he had been drinking heavily the night before & had barely made it up in time to go hunting . he had argued with his brother the previous night & ended up venturing out alone without any of them unaware that he was still a bit intoxicated . he was not careful and had lay his gun down by a tree to stumble away & relieve himself when the bear appeared . he barely got his pants up before it attacked , having noticed he was in close proximity to its cubs . he had no way to protect himself & as he lay barely breathing in the grass he couldn't help but think of his poor mother & sister who would have to see his battered body at his funeral after the men found him here eventually .
he remembers dozing on & off & suddenly he was flying through the greenery - looking into the face of a woman he felt sure was an angel sent to bring him to heaven . huh, he remembered thinking, i wasn't sure i would get to heaven . my mother's prayers must have worked after all .
when he woke up later he was confused & at first thought the entire experience was some drunken dream . but when he sat up he saw his angel still there - looking very concerned & talking low with a man by her side . despite their low voices he could hear every word as they discussed how to tell him what had happened . ' it's okay - i know i'm in heaven . ' were the first words out of his mouth .
finding out he was a vampire wasn't as horrifying as the woman & man seemed to think it would be . he learned the girl was not an angel & that she was named rosalie & he was just as enamored with her as the first moment he saw her . the man he learned was named carlisle & he helped guide emmett a lot through the next few months . carlisle reminded him a lot of his mother so he grew close with him rapidly as well as esme who reminded him of his sister .
despite knowing he couldn't get too close - emmett did venture back to his home . he never made himself noticeable & never went close enough to catch a scent but he would watch them from afar . he found that he only missed his mother & sister but nothing else from his old life . he enjoyed being a vampire & all of the perks that came with it . this was a habit that didn't die - even when the cullen's decided to move away to make things easier on him . they clearly didn't approve - worried he would be caught despite his speed . so, he kept the visits a secret over the years with only alice ever eventually finding out what he was doing . he never spoke to them again - but he made sure they were alright & when his sister was engaged to a man he knew to be horrible he hunted the man down & never regretted the things he did next . he told the family later he simply slipped on a random human & vowed to be better .
the cullen's were richer than he was used to but this did not intimidate him . emmett was enthralled by the extra funds & still did what he could to help them earn more income - going to college & holding various jobs over the years . still , he spent freely & was probably the worst at shopping sprees . he loved extravagant items . and once a year he would go on his visit to his human family & leave a lump sum in an envelope . the family never figured out where the money came from but he continued the habit throughout the generations - making sure they were always taken care of .
back home the McCarty family never figured out what happened to emmett & eventually ruled his death done by another human . they found blood at the scene of the crime & his gun & one shoe . they assumed he had a gambling debt he couldn't pay or had gotten into a fight that turned into more . but they never got answers or closure & the torture of not knowing for sure broke his mother's heart . his sister swore to her dying day that he was still alive somewhere - not knowing how right she really was .
2 notes · View notes
twistedtummies2 · 11 months
Text
The Price May Be Right - Number 24
Welcome to “The Price May Be Right!” I’m counting down My Top 31 Favorite Vincent Price Performances & Appearances! The countdown will cover movies, TV productions, and many more forms of media. Today’s pick proves how truly devilish dear Vincent could be! Today we focus on Number 24: Mr. Scratch, from The Story of Mankind.
Tumblr media
This is another character I addressed before on a previous countdown. Specifically, when I did my list of my Top 31 Favorite Portrayals of the Devil, Price’s turn as the wicked Mr. Scratch ranked Number 11 on the list. A lot of what I say here may be reiterating stuff I said there and then, so do bear with me if I feel a bit repetitive. With that said: “The Story of Mankind” is a bizarre little picture from 1957. It was the brainchild of Irwin Allen, a director and producer known for his colorful, campy style of filmmaking. The movie focuses on a great trial being held in the cosmos themselves: a gathering of divine beings are trying to judge the fate of the Earth. It’s revealed that humanity has invented a new weapon of mass destruction, which – if they choose to use it – could potentially lead to the destruction of the entire human race. The decision must be made whether to intervene and prevent mankind from using the bomb, or to let humanity make the choice and risk destroying themselves entirely. Price plays – as I stated before – the Devil himself, who acts as the prosecutor at the trial. Opposing him in the defense box is the Spirit of Man, played by Ronald Colman. The two are given power by the divine tribunal to present examples of man’s folly’s and failings, as well as humanity’s triumphs and achievements. Each may show people and points in time to illustrate their arguments. So, while the Spirit of Man presents such figures as Abe Lincoln and Moses, Mr. Scratch presents the evils of people like Hitler and Nero. This movie, to be quite honest, is not very good, and nearly all of its major problems stem from two places: casting and tone. The tone of this movie is all over the place, ranging from farcical comedy to moralizing dramatics. This is reflected in the casting, which is scattershot, to say the least: Dennis Hopper plays perhaps the most American Napoleon you’ll ever see in your life, and whatever numb-nut decided to cast the Marx Brothers as Sir Isaac Newton, Peter Minuit, and a random Monk should be dragged into the street and slapped with a fish. Things that should be taken seriously cannot be, and things that should be funny often come across as dumb. As a result, the movie is a truly absurd and mind-boggling experience. HOWEVER, for all the epic fails found in the cast list…Vincent Price as the Devil is the most perfect casting you’ll ever find in your life. Price honestly MAKES this movie; from his narration sequences to his physical performance onscreen, he owns every scene and every line effortlessly. He makes some of the silliest gags truly entertaining, and manages to present a picture of evil that is as elegant and charming as it is thoroughly reprehensible. For all the problems in this movie, Price is never among them, and he helps to keep this picture from sinking too far under. Honestly, I feel sort of bad for ranking this performance so low – again, it’s a little tough to beat VINCENT PRICE AS THE DEVIL – but I think the major issue is just that the movie, itself, sort of drags him down in the ranks. Hopefully the many roles still to come will make up for it all. Tomorrow, the countdown continues with my pick for Number 23!
5 notes · View notes
marvel911 · 8 months
Text
Exploring Marvel Comics from the Early 2000s
Tumblr media
In 2002, an issue of Wizard Magazine re-ignited my interest in superhero comics. It was perfect timing.
I was in 7th grade, young enough to still be unabashedly enthralled by superheroes, and just becoming old enough to understand darker stories and more ambitious themes. (My first read of Watchmen would come months later, borrowed from the public library and hidden under the bed from my parents.)
Marvel Comics, meanwhile, was in the midst of the Ultimate Marvel project, a sort of side imprint that reset its major characters back to issue 1, reimagining their origin stories as taking place in the new millennium instead of the 1960s. This eliminated the need for young or new readers to have decades of knowledge about characters in order to enjoy the story. That issue of Wizard Magazine, by the way, was the “Ultimate Marvel Spectacular” with the Ultimate versions of Spider-Man, Wolverine, and Jean Grey on the cover.
Tumblr media
The cover also had a conspicuous red, white, and blue memorial ribbon in the corner. A similar emblem, with the ribbon above the silhouette of the Twin Towers, graced the cover of Marvel issues for years to come.
Tumblr media
And so most importantly, the timing was perfect because the concept of HEROES had a gravitational pull in the months after the terrorist attacks on 9/11/2001. Watching the towers burn on a CRT television on a roller cart in a school classroom, I clearly remember thinking that a Bruce Willis-type action hero was going to fly in on a fighter plane and fix things. (My brain must have made a towers connection with Die Hard. How I expected a fighter plane to help after the towers had already been hit, I’m not sure.)
As we heard the stories of first responders and Flight 93 passengers in the days after the attack, and as we sent soldiers to war a few years later, the presence and concept of heroes was pervasive in the United States.
Where did that leave SUPERheroes?
How are the superheroes of the funny pages meant to combat real-life dangers such as international terrorism? Do we need fictional heroes more or less in times of crisis?
Those questions date back at least to the inception of Captain America, who fights Hitler and a roomful of Nazis on the cover of the first issue of his comic series, published in 1941. And those questions persist today. Should Marvel superheroes be punching out fossil fuel executives, who exacerbate and deny climate change, on the covers of comics? How do superheroes battle a problem as abstract and far-reaching as global warming? Or, if they can solve global warming with their fantastical powers, what value do their stories have to people who must seek out real-world solutions, and live through the real-world consequences?
All this to say, it was an interesting time to be a comic book fan and is an interesting period to revisit with a critical eye. And although 9/11 has its own gravitational pull, and is a helpful historical marker, the 2000-2005 time period is an interesting one for Marvel Comics for many additional reasons.
Already mentioned: The birth of Ultimate Marvel.
These years can be seen as a last hurrah for the focus on comic books before the creation of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, with Ang Lee’s Hulk in 2003 and Jon Favreau’s Iron Man in 2008.
In ways, this period also set the stage for the success of the Marvel leap to cinema. The Ultimates – the name for the Ultimate line version of the Avengers, sometimes confusingly – deliberately used actors as the models for how some characters were illustrated, including “casting” Samuel L. Jackson as Nick Fury years before the real actor appeared as the character on screen. (Today, major screen stars such as Keanu Reeves are directly involved in creating comics that use their own likeness.) The Ultimates also favored “tacti-cool” armor to spandex costumes, providing inspiration for many on-screen interpretations to come.
These years are arguably the middle act of writer Grant Morrison at the height of their powers, penning a legendary run on New X-Men, after coming off their work on The Invisibles (1994 to 2000) and before what was to come on All-Star Superman (2005 to 2008).
As a company, Marvel is still recovering from its 1996 bankruptcy.
Back on 9/11 and politics: Comics, previously regarded as a pretty counterculture medium, have moments during the early 2000s when they continue that tradition, when they betray it (becoming effectively an arm of the state – presaging Marvel’s military alliances that helped make movies like Iron Man), and when things are murky (Ultimate Captain America after using his famous shield to cut a Reptilian Nazi in half: “You think this letter on my head stands for France?”).
And of course, the time period stands out to me as formative because of my age and my interest level in these comics.
As a caveat, I’m not an expert in Marvel Comics now or then, and I might not always hunt down every fact from every existing resource and opinion on the web. These days, I head to the local comics shop to touch base with Marvel a few times a year to see what Iron Man is up to, or what favorite creators such as Mike Allred have on the shelf. But most of my comics reading is dedicated to independent comics (from artists such as Connor Willumsen and Julia Gfrörer to publishers such as kuš! and 2dcloud and Peow Studio) and a handful of manga titles (Delicious in Dungeon might be the best thing on the market). The recent Marvel comics I really enjoyed are the collected edition of House of X / Powers of X by John Hickman and co. (thanks to a friend’s recommendation) and Tradd Moore’s insanely good Doctor Strange mini-series, Fall Sunrise.
Finally, why Marvel and not DC? Well, one, I always made mine Marvel. So, there’s an aspect of nostalgia and personal preference. But Marvel comics also stand out for their stronger relationship to the real world, from the fact that many are set in New York City itself (not a fictional Metropolis or Gotham), to comics that prioritize keeping up with and responding to real-life events (as explained on the website “Fantastic Four 1961-1989 Was the Great American Novel”). Marvel reflected and was affected by 9/11 and this broader time period in ways DC or other superhero comics couldn’t.
This blog will be a place to occasionally look back at some familiar (to me) and new (to me) Marvel comics from roughly the 2000-2005 time period. Two things this blog will not seek to be, yet, are (1) good, or (2) authoritative. I just want to flex the public writing muscle a little. (It also makes me laugh that the blog format itself is a bit of a throwback to the early 2000s.) But hopefully this will be fun!
1 note · View note
cielrouge · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
2021 YA Reads By Authors of Color 
A Chorus Rises (A Song Below Water #2) by Bethany C. Morrow: Teen influencer Naema Bradshaw is an Eloko, a person who’s gifted with a song that woos anyone who hears it. Everyone loves her — well, until she’s cast as the awful person who exposed Tavia’s secret siren powers. When a new, flourishing segment of Naema’s online supporters start targeting black girls, however, Naema must discover the true purpose of her magical voice.
A Taste For Love by Jennifer Yen: In this Pride and Prejudice-inspired rom-com, both high school senior Liza Yang and her mother share a love and talent for baking but disagree on the subject of dating, especially when Mrs. Yang turns her annual baking contest into a matchmaking scheme, when Liza learns that all of the contestants are young Asian American men handpicked for her to date. 
Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé: Pitched as Gossip Girl meets Get Out, in which a mysterious source spreads rumors about a prestigious private school's only two Black students, Chiamaka and Devon, who must fight for their reputations—and for their lives. 
All Kinds of Other by James Sie: In this tender, nuanced coming-of-age love story, two boys—one who is cis and one who is trans—have been guarding their hearts to protect themselves, until their feelings for each other give them a reason to stand up to their fears.
All These Bodies by Kendare Blake: A 15-year-old girl becomes the surviving victim-turned-suspect of a Midwestern murder spree. 
American Betiya by Anuradha D. Rajurkar: 18-year-old Rani, a budding photographer, grapples with first love, family boundaries, and the complications of a cross-cultural relationship.
An Emotion of Great Delight by Tahereh Mafi: A searing look into the world of a single Muslim family in the wake of 9/11, about a child of immigrants forging a blurry identity, falling in love, and finding hope—in the midst of a modern war. 
Angel of Greenwood by Randi Pink: Set in the Tulsa neighborhood of Greenwood, once known as “Black Wall Street,” two teenagers, surrounded by idyllic beauty, passionate intellectualism, and black excellence, fall in love for the first time; amidst of one of the worst atrocities in U.S. history. 
Anna K Away (Anna K #2) by Jenny Lee: Anna K: Told from multiple viewpoints, Anna K spends a summer with her father and his family in South Korea, while in the United States, Lolly and Steven, Kimmie and Dustin, and Bea all face relationship issues.
Aristotle and Dante Dive in the Waters of the World (Aristotle and Dante #2) by Benjamin Alire Sáenz: After falling in love, Ari and Dante must discover what it means to stay in love and build a relationship in a world that seems to challenge their very existence.
Bad Witch Burning by Jessica Lewis: For fans of Us and The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina comes a witchy story full of black girl magic as one girl’s dark ability to summon the dead offers her a chance at a new life, while revealing to her an even darker future.
Beasts of Prey by Ayana Gray: Two Black teenagers, talented Beastkeeper Koffi and warrior-in-training Ekon, must trek into a magical jungle to take down an ancient creature menacing the city of Lkossa, before they become the hunted. 
The Beautiful Struggle (Young Reader’s Edition) by Ta-Nehisi Coates: Adapted from the adult memoir, this father-son story explores how boys become men. 
Blackout by Dhonielle Clayton, Tiffany Jackson, Nic Stone, Angie Thomas, Ashley Woodfolk, and Nicola Yoon: A collection of six interlinked stories of Black love, set on a single day during a summer heatwave and power outage in New York City. 
Blood Like Magic by Liselle Sambury: Set in near-future Toronto in which, after failing to come into her powers, 16-year-old Black witch Voya Thomas must choose between losing her family's magic forever or murdering her first love. 
The Bones of Ruin by Sarah Raughley: Set in Victorian England, African tightrope walker Iris cannot die; but soon gets drafted in the fight-to-the-death tournament of freaks where she learns the terrible truth of who and what she really is. 
Briar Girls by Rebecca Kim Wells: Cursed to kill all those she touches, Lena endures an isolated life on the run. But when an enigmatic stranger offers to help her break the curse in exchange for her aid in waking a princess hidden in an enchanted forest, Lena embarks on a quest to win her freedom. 
Broken Web (Shamanborn #2) by Lori M. Lee: With Queen Meilyr bent on destroying the magical kingdoms, Sirscha becomes caught between a war in the east and the Soulless in the west.
The Chariot at Dusk (Tiger at Midnight #3) by Swati Teerdhala: In the final book of this epic fantasy trilogy, the lands’ fate, their people’s livelihoods, and the bond that sustains their world all depend on what Kunal and Esha can offer—to the gods and to each other.
Chlorine Sky by Mahogany L. Browne: Picked on at home, criticized for talking trash while beating boys at basketball, and always seen as less, a girl struggles to step out of the shadows of her best friend. 
A Clash of Steel (A Treasure Island Remix) by C.B. Lee: Set in 1820s China, Xiah joins Anh and her motley crew in pursuit of the hidden treasure of the legendary Dragon Fleet. F/F main romance. 
Concrete Rose by Angie Thomas: Set 17 years before the events in The Hate U Give, and set in Garden Heights, a searing and poignant exploration of Black boyhood and manhood featuring Maverick Carter, Starr’s father. 
The Cost of Knowing by Brittney Morris: A gripping, evocative novel about Black teen Alex Rufus, who has the power to see into the future, and whose life turns upside down when he foresees his younger brother’s imminent death. 
Counting Down with You by Tashie Bhuiyan: Bangladeshi-Muslim teen Karina Ahmed navigates the difficulties of independence, family, and first love after being roped into a fake dating facade by her infamously aloof classmate, Ace Clyde. 
A Crown So Cursed (Nightmare Verse #3) by L.L. McKinney: Alice is ready to jump into battle when she learns that someone is building an army of Nightmares to attack the mortal world, before she learns of a personal connection to Wonderland.
Darling by K. Ancrum: A post-modern retelling of Peter Pan in modern-day Chicago, in which Wendy Darling follows Peter and his Lost Boys through the city's nightlife and underbelly, only to discover that Peter isn't what he seems and the Lost Boys are in trouble. 
The Endless Skies by Shannon Price: 17-year-old Rowan is about to become one of the famed Leonodai Warriors—the elite magical fighters who protect the floating city Heliana, until disaster strikes the city’s children. With time running out and humans on their tail, Rowan must risk everything to save her beloved city.
Every Body Shines (16 Stories About Living Fabulously Fat) edited by Cassandra Newbould: An intersectional, feminist YA anthology from some of today's most exciting voices across a span of genres, all celebrating body diversity and fat acceptance through short stories.
Excuse Me While I Ugly Cry by Joya Goffney: The story of an overly enthusiastic list maker and Black teen Quinn, who is blackmailed into completing a to-do list of all her worst fears. 
Fat Chance, Charlie Vega by Crystal Maldonado: Teenage girl Charlie Vega follows her writing dreams, resists her mom's weight-loss schemes, and even falls for the cute boy from art class—until she realizes that he may be after her bestie. 
Feather and Flame (The Queen’s Council #2) by Livia Blackburne: When one of Mulan’s own militia members comes under suspicion as a traitor, she has no idea whom she can trust. But the Queen’s Council helps Mulan uncover her true destiny. With renewed strength and the wisdom of those that came before her, Mulan will own her power, save her country, and prove once again that, crown or helmet, she was always meant to lead. 
Fifteen Hundred Miles From the Sun by Jonny Garza Villa: Texas high school senior Julián Luna accidentally comes out to the world on social media and must now juggle the joy of first love and the fear of his socially conservative father finding out before he's ready. 
Fire with Fire by Destiny Soria: A contemporary fantasy about two sisters, Dani and Eden Rivera, who were raised to be fierce dragon slayers but end up on opposite sides of the impending war when one sister forms an unlikely, magical bond with a dragon. 
Firekeeper’s Daughter by Angeline Boulley: Daunis Fontaine, who is part Ojibwe, defers attending the University of Michigan to care for her mother, but after witnessing a shocking murder, becomes reluctantly becomes involved in the investigation of a series of drug-related deaths in her community. 
For All Time by Shanna Miles: Tamar and Fayard, two Black teens, are fated to repeat their love story across hundreds of lifetimes, from 14th-century Mali to the future, as they struggle to break the cycle.
The Forest of Stolen Girls by June Hur: a historical mystery set in 1400s Joseon Korea, focused on a pair of estranged sisters who reluctantly reunite after their detective father vanishes.
From Little Tokyo, with Love by Sarah Kuhn: An intensely personal yet hilarious novel of Rika Rakuyama, a biracial Japanese American girl, whose search for a storybook ending takes her to unexpected places in her beloved LA neighborhood and own guarded heart.
Gearbreakers by Zoe Hana Mikuta: Eris Shindanai and Sona Steelcrest, two girls on opposite sides of a war fought with Windups, giant mechanizes weapons, discover they're fighting for a common purpose--and falling for each other. 
The Gilded Ones by Namina Forna: Inspired by the culture of West Africa, a feminist fantasy debut traces the experiences of 16-year-old Deka, who is invited to leave her discriminatory village to join the emperor's army of near-immortal women warriors. 
Girls of Fate and Fury (Girls of Paper and Fire #3) by Natasha Ngan: The last Lei saw of the girl she loved, Wren, was fighting an army of soldiers in a furious battle to the death. With the two girls torn apart and each in terrorizing peril, will they find each other again or have their destinies diverged forever. 
The Great Destroyers by Caroline Tung Richmond: set in alt-history, 1960s America where WWI & WII were fought with giant mechs, biracial Chinese American teen Jo Linden is Team USA’s most unlikely pick in the annual Pax Games, an Olympic-style competition that pits mecha pilots against each other.
Hani and Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating by Adiba Jaigirdar: Ishu agrees to fake-date Hani, only if Hani will help her become more popular so that she can be elected head girl. Despite their mutually beneficial pact, they start developing real feelings for each other. 
Happily Ever Afters by Elise Bryant: Creative writing student and Black teen Tessa Johnson runs up against a bad case of writer's block, and decides to find a real-life romance to inspire her fiction.
Home Is Not a Country by Safia Elhillo: A mesmerizing novel in verse about family, identity, and finding yourself in unexpected places. 
How Moon Fuentez Fell in Love with the Universe by Raquel Vasquez Gilliland: Mexican American teen, Moon Fuentez discovers love and profound truths about the universe when she spends her summer on a road trip across the country. 
How We Fall Apart by Katie Zhao: Nancy Luo, Krystal Choi, Akil Patel, and Alexander Lin, juniors at Manhattan's elite Sinclair Prep, are forced to confront their secrets after Jamie Ruan, once their closest friend, is found dead, and they become the prime suspects of her death, thanks to "The Proctor," someone anonymously incriminating them via the school's social media app.
Hurricane Summer by Asha Bromfield: While visiting her father who lives in Jamaica, 18-year-old Tilla faces a storm of dark secrets that threaten to unravel her own life, while an actual storm, Hurricane Gustav, threatens the lives of those she loves.
Idol Gossip by Alexandra Leigh Young: Alice Choy, the daughter of an American diplomat is recruited into a K-pop group after her family moves to Seoul, only to find her path to stardom threatened by an influential gossip blogger. 
If I Tell You the Truth by Jasmine Kaur: Told in prose, poetry, and illustration, this heartrending story weaves Kiran’s and Sahaara’s timelines together, showing a teenage Kiran and, later, her high school–aged daughter, Sahaara.
If This Gets Out by Sophie Gonzales & Cale Dietrich: Ruben Montez and Zach Knight, both in America's biggest boy band, fall for each other while on their first sold-out European tour, and are forced to keep their relationship a secret by their record label, but slowly realize those in charge have no intention of letting them announce their relationship to the world—ever. 
Illusionary (Hollow Crown #2) by Zoraida Córdova: Reeling from betrayal, Renata Convida is a girl on the run. With few options and fewer allies, she reluctantly joins forces with none other than Prince Castian, her most infuriating and intriguing enemy.
Indivisible by Daniel Aleman: New York City high school student Mateo Garcia dreams of becoming a Broadway star, but his life is transformed after his parents are deported to Mexico, and now must care for himself and his younger sister Sophie.
The Infinity Courts by Akemi Dawn Bowman: Japanese American teen Nami Miyamoto finds herself in a limitless world where the human consciousness goes after death, where she battles an AI entity posing as a queen that has hacked its way into the afterlife.
Infinity Reaper (Infinity Cycle #2) by Adam Silvera: Emil and Brighton Rey defied the odds. When Brighton drank the Reaper’s Blood, he believed it would make him invincible, but instead the potion is killing him. In Emil’s race to find an antidote that will not only save his brother but also rid him of his own unwanted phoenix powers, he will have to dig deep into his past lives. 
Instructions for Dancing by Nicola Yoon: Evie Thomas doesn't believe in love anymore. That’s before she finds herself at La Brea Dance studio, learning to waltz, fox-trot, and tango with a boy named X, who is everything that she isn’t. 
The Iron Raven by Julie Kagawa: With Iron Queen Meghan Chase and her prince consort Ash, plus allies old and new by his side, Puck begins a fantastical adventure not to be missed or forgotten.
Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao: Blending Chinese history and mecha science, Wu Zetian offers herself up as a concubine-pilot to assassinate the ace male pilot responsible for her sister’s death. Features a poly F/M/M main romance. 
It All Comes Back to You by Farah Naz Rishi: Before Amira and Faisal met--Kiran and Deen dated. But Deen ghosted Kiran with no explanation. Kiran will stop at nothing to find out what happened, and Deen will do anything, even if it means sabotaging his brother's relationship, to keep her from reaching the truth. 
Jade Fire Gold by June C.L. Tan: A debut fantasy inspired by Chinese mythology, in which peasant girl Anh, cursed with the power to steal souls enters a tenuous alliance with exiled prince Altan, bent on taking back the dragon throne, and save the empire from a cult of dangerous priests. 
The Jasmine Project by Meredith Ireland: Korean American adoptee Jasmine Yap unwittingly finds herself at the center of a competition for her heart, orchestrated by her overbearing but loving family.
Journey to the Heart of the Abyss (Light in the Abyss #2) by London Shah: Leyla McQueen has finally reunited with her father after breaking him out of Broadmoor, the illegal government prison—but his freedom comes at a terrible cost. As Leyla celebrates his return, she must grapple with the pain of losing Ari. Now labeled the nation’s number one enemy, Leyla must risk illegal travel through unchartered waters for the truth behind her father's arrest.
The Keeper of the Night by Kylie Lee Baker: set in 1890s Japan, half-British reaper, half-Japanese Shinigami Ren Scarborough flees London and enters the Japanese underworld under the service of Izanami, the goddess of death.
Kneel by Candice Buford:  For guys like Russell Boudreaux, football is the only way out of their small Louisiana town. As the team's varsity tight end, Rus has a singular goal: to get a scholarship and play on the national stage. When his best friend is unfairly arrested and kicked off the team, Rus faces an impossible choice: speak up or live in fear. 
The Knockout by S.A. Patel: Kareena Thakar lands an invitation to the US Muay Thai Open, which could lead to a spot on the first-ever Olympic team. But Kareena has never felt quite Indian enough, and her training is only making it worse. Which is inconvenient, since she's starting to fall for Amit Patel, who just might be the world's most perfect Indian. 
Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo:  Set in San Francisco's Chinatown during the Red Scare, when Chinese American Lily Hu realizes she has feelings for a girl, Kath, in her math class, it threatens Lily's oldest friendships and even her father's citizenship status and eventually, Lily must decide if owning her truth is worth everything she has ever known.
The Life I’m In by Sharon G. Flake: The powerful and long-anticipated companion to The Skin I'm In, presenting the unflinching story of Char, a young woman trapped in the underworld of human trafficking. 
Like a Love Song by Gabriela Martins:  Latina teen pop star Natalie’s image takes a dive after a messy public breakup, until she's set up with a swoon-worthy fake boyfriend, British indie film star William, and discovers she's ready to reclaim her voice and her heart. 
Like Home by Louisa Onomé: A local act of vandalism tosses 16-year-old Chinelo headfirst into changing friendships, new romance, and a fight against outside forces determined to fix up the neighborhood she's loved all her life. 
Lost in the Never Woods by Aiden Thomas:  When children start to go missing in the local woods, eighteen-year-old Wendy Darling must face her fears and a past she cannot remember to rescue them in this novel based on Peter Pan.
Love and Other Disasters by Misa Suguira: Glamorous, but heartbroken Willow enlists Nozomi Nagai to pose as her new girlfriend to make her ex jealous. But Nozomi has a master plan of her own: one to show Willow she’s better than a stand-in, and turn their fauxmance into something real.
Love is a Revolution by Renée Watson: A love story about not only a romantic relationship but how a plus size girl and Black teen Nala Robertson finds herself and falls in love with who she really is.
Luck of the Titanic by Stacey Lee: twin British-Chinese acrobats, Valora and Jamie Luck, travel aboard the Titanic on its ill-fated maiden voyage. Loosely inspired by the recently uncovered account of six Titanic survivors of Chinese descendants.
The Mary Shelley Club by Goldy Moldavsky: 
The Marvelous Mirza Girls by Sheba Karim: Pakistani American Muslim teen Noreen takes a gap year in New Delhi and pursues a relationship with a local boy, Kabir, but a family scandal soon threatens their budding relationship.
The Marvelous by Claire Kann: Six teens locked together in a mansion, contend for a life-changing cash prize in a competition run by a reclusive heiress. 
(Me) Moth by Amber McBride: Moth has lost her family in an accident. Though she lives with her aunt, she feels alone and uprooted. Until she meets Sani, a boy who is also searching for his roots, and they embark on a road trip that has them chasing ghosts and searching for ancestors. 
Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee:  Trans teen Noah Ramirez who must decide if he's dedicated to romantic formulas or open to unpredictable love after an internet troll-attack on his trans romance blog compels him and a fan to start fake-dating to salvage the blog's reputation
The Meet-Cute Project by Rhiannon Richardson: Rom-com hating Black teen Mia prefers watching romances to being involved in them, until she's challenged by her friends to create real-life meet cutes to find a date for her older sister's wedding. 
The Mirror Season by Anna-Marie McLemore: Graciela Cristales meets Lock, a boy who was sexually assaulted at the same party as her, and they find their fates unexpectedly intertwined during a month of vanishing trees, enchanted pan dulce, and inherited magic. 
Misfit in Love (Saints and Misfits #2) by S.K. Ali: Janna Yusuf hopes her brother’s wedding will be the perfect start to her own summer of love, but attractive new arrivals have her more confused than ever.
Muted by Tami Charles: An exploration of the dark side of the music industry, the business of exploitation, and how a girl's dreams can be used against her—and what it takes to fight back. 
Not Here To Be Liked by Michelle Quach: Chinese Vietnamese American teen Eliza Quan is snubbed as the next editor-in-chief of the school paper for a less qualified but more "likable" male peer, and she finds herself caught between leading a feminist reckoning and falling for the boy she's asking to step down. 
Nubia: Real One by L.L. McKinney & Robyn Smith: When Nubia’s best friend, Quisha, is threatened by a boy who thinks he owns the town, Nubia will risk it all—her safety, her home, and her crush on that cute kid in English class—to become the hero society tells her she isn’t.
The Obsession by Jessie Sutanto: After freeing her mother from an abusive relationship, Delilah Wong refuses to play a part in Logan's delusional romance--but how can she convince him to let her go?
Of Princes and Promises (St.Rosetta’s Academy #2) by Sandhya Menon:  Sweet-but-clueless Rahul Chopra tries a mysterious pot of hair gel which transforms instantly into RC—debonair, handsome, and charming. But transformation comes with a price: But will Rahul give up everything, including the girl he loves, Caterina LaVelle, to remain RC? 
Off the Record by Camryn Garrett: Teen journalist and Black teen Josie Wright uncovers the scandal of the decade, while developing feelings for her subject of her profile, dazzling newcomer Marius Canet.
Once Upon a Quinceañera by Monica Gomez-Hira: 18-year-old Carmen takes on a summer internship that has her reuniting with estranged family for an over-the-top quinceañera and reluctantly reconnecting to a long-lost ex-boyfriend. 
One of the Good Ones by Maika & Maritza Moulite: Although distraught, Happi is also unsettled by the way people have idealized the memory of her sister who was killed after attending a social justice rally. As a way to honor the memory, Happi and her other sister Genny go on a roadtrip using the original "Green Book"--but the trip reveals secrets neither sister knew about the dead Kezi.
The Ones We’re Meant to Find by Joan He: In a near future when life is harsh outside of Earth's last unpolluted place, Cee tries to leave an abandoned island while her sister, STEM prodigy Kasey Mizuhara, seeks escape from the science and home she once trusted.
The Other Side of Perfect by Mariko Turk: Alina Keeler, a former ballerina undergoes a life-changing injury which sends her back to high school and offers a chance at new friendships and romance, as well as an opportunity to confront the discrimination in the dance world she tried hard to ignore. 
Our Violent Ends (These Violent Delights #2) by Chloe Gong: In 1927, Shanghai tethers on the edge of revolution. After sacrificing her relationship with Roma to protect him from the blood feud, Juliette has been a girl on the warpath. Then a new monstrous danger emerges in the city, and while secrets keep them apart, Juliette must secure Roma’s cooperation if they are to end this threat. 
Our Way Back to Always by Nina Moreno: Louisa “Lou” Patterson grew up across the street from Sam Alvarez. Torn between the future that her mother, sister, and younger self planned for her, Lou sets out to finish a childhood bucket list, and in a stroke of destiny or fate, Sam decides to tag along.
Perfectly Parvin by Olivia Abtahi: After being dumped at the beginning of freshman year, Iranian American Parvin Mohammadi sets out to win the ultimate date to Homecoming: Matty Fumero. 
A Pho Love Story by Loan Le: Two Vietnamese American teens, Bao Nguyen and Linh Mai, fall in love and must navigate their newfound relationship amid the whirlwind caused by their respective families’ age-old feud about their competing, neighboring pho eateries.
Prepped by Bethany Mangle: Raised among doomsday preppers, Becca Aldaine's life has centered on planning for the worst, but when her escape plan is jeopardized, she turns to the boy she is expected to marry and hopes for the best.
A Psalm of Storm and Silence (A Song of Wraiths and Ruin #2) by Roseanne A. Brown: As the fabric holding Sonande together begins to tear, Malik and Karina once again find themselves torn between their duties and their desires.
A Queen of Gilded Horns (A River of Royal Blood #2) by Amanda Joy: After learning the truth of her heritage, Eva is on the run with her sister Isa as her captive, but with the Queendom of Myre on the brink of revolution, Eva and Isa must make peace with each other to save their kingdom.
The Queen’s Secret by Melissa De La Cruz: When Cal and Lilac are forced to face dark forces apart, the strength of their love--and their kingdom--are put to the ultimate test. 
Radha & Jai’s Recipe for Romance by Nisha Sharma: two Indian American teens at a performing arts academy, one trained in kathak and the other in Bollywood style, must face their fears (and their families) if they want a taste of a happily ever after.
Ravage the Dark (Scavenge the Stars #2) by Tara Sim: After escaping the city of Moray, Amaya and Cayo head to the port city of Baleine to find the mysterious Benefactor and put a stop to the counterfeit currency that is spreading Ash Fever throughout the kingdoms.
Reaper of Souls (Kingdom of Souls #2) by Rena Barron: After so many years yearning for the gift of magic, Arrah has the one thing she’s always wanted—at a terrible price. But the Demon King’s shadow looms closer than she thinks. And as Arrah struggles to unravel her connection to him, defeating him begins to seem more and more impossible. 
Redemptor (Raybearer #2) by Jordan Ifueko: For the first time, an Empress Redemptor sits on Aritsar’s throne. To appease the sinister spirits of the dead, Tarisai must now anoint a council of her own, coming into her full power as a Raybearer.
The Red Tigress (Blood Heir #2) by Amélie Wen Zhao: The second book in an epic fantasy series about a princess hiding a dark secret and the con man she must trust to liberate her empire from a dark reign.
Renegade Flight (Rebelwing #2) by Andrea Tang: Pilot-in-training Viola Park, a probationary student at GAN Academy, enters a mech combat tournament that becomes a fight for the future of Peacekeepers everywhere.
The Right Side of Reckless by Whitney D. Grandison: Guillermo Lozano has never met a rule he didn’t break...Regan London followed the rules her whole life… When they meet, one golden rule is established: stay away. Being together might just get Guillermo sent away. But when it comes to the heart, sometimes you have to break the rules and be a little bit reckless. 
The Righteous (The Beautiful #3) by Renée Ahdieh: Pippa Montrose is tired of losing everything she loves. When her best friend Celine disappears under mysterious circumstances, Pippa resolves to find her, even if the journey takes her into the dangerous world of the fae, where she might find more than she bargained for in the charismatic Arjun Desai.
Rise Up from the Embers (Set Fire to the Gods #2) by Sarah Raasch & Kristen Simmons: The conclusion of this exciting and fast-paced epic duology about two elemental gladiators, Ash and Madoc, whose powers could determine the fate of the world in an ancient war between immortals and humans. 
Rise to the Sun by Leah Johnson: As Black teens Olivia and Toni arrive at a music festival, things becomes so much more complicated than they bargained for, and they will find that they need each other, and music, more than ever. 
Rising Like a Storm (The Wrath of Ambar #2) by Tanaz Bhathena: Gul and Cavas must unite their magical forces―and hold onto their growing romance―to save their kingdom from tyranny.
Roman and Jewel by Dana L. Davis: Teen actors—an understudy, Jerzie Jhames, and the leading man, Zeppelin Reid—headline with an international R & B superstar in a hip-hopera Broadway musical reimagining of Romeo and Juliet. 
Shadow City (The City of Diamond and Steel #2) by Francesa Flores: Aina Solís has fought her way to the top of criminal ranks in the city of Kosín by wresting control of an assassin empire owned by her old boss, Kohl. But Kohl will do anything to get his empire back.
Simone Breaks All the Rules by Debbie Rigaud: Haitian American Simone Thibodeaux and her fellow late-bloomer friends create a Senior Year Bucket List of all the things they haven't had a chance to do. But as the list takes on a life of its own, things get more complicated than Simone expected. 
Sister of the Bollywood Bride by Nandini Bajpai: Set in Boston, an Indian American teen plans her sister’s Bollywood-style Indian wedding, but a monster hurricane threatens it all.
The Sisters of Reckoning (The Good Luck Girls #2) by Charlotte Nicole Davis: The blockbuster sequel to an alternate Old West-set commercial fantasy adventure.
Sisters of the Snake by Sasha & Sarena Nanua: an Indian-inspired fantasy where twins separated at birth—one now a princess, the other a street thief— must switch places in a bid to stop a catastrophic war that threatens to tear their kingdom apart. 
Six Crimson Cranes by Elizabeth Lim: The Wild Swans meets East Asian fantasy where an exiled princess, Shiori, must unweave the curse that turned her brothers into cranes, assisted by her spurned betrothed, a mercurial dragon, and a paper bird brought to life by her own magic. 
So Many Beginnings: A Little Women Remix by Bethany C. Morrow: Four young Black sisters come of age during the American Civil War, set in the Freedmen's Colony of Roanoke Island, a haven for the recently emancipated. As the March sisters come into their own as independent young women, they will face first love, health struggles, heartbreak, and new horizons. But they will face it all together. 
Somewhere Between Bitter and Sweet by Laekan Zea Kemp: Mexican American teens Pen and Xander must navigate first love and discovering where they belong -- both within their families and their fiercely loyal Chicanx community -- in order to save the place they all call home.
Some Other Now by Sarah Everett: A luminous and heartbreaking contemporary novel following Black teen Jessi Rumfield, caught between two brothers as the three of them navigate family, loss, and love over the course of two summers.
Spin Me Right Round by David Valdes: 
Squad by Maggie Hall-Tokuda & Lisa Sterle: A story about a clique of teen girls whose favorite pastime is to get dressed up, attend parties to target entitled, date-rapey bros, and then turn into werewolves to eat them.
Steelstriker (Skyhunter #2) by Marie Lu: After the fall of Mara, and with the fate of a broken world hanging in the balance, Talin and Red must reunite the Strikers and find their way back to one another. 
Sugar Queen Towns by Malla Nunn: When Amandla finds a mysterious address in the bottom of her mother's handbag along with a large amount of cash, she decides it's finally time to get answers about her mother's life. 
Sway With Me by Syed M. Masood: Arsalan turns to Beenish, the step-daughter of a prominent matchmaker, to find him a future life partner. Beenish’s request in return? That Arsalan help her ruin her older sister’s wedding with a spectacular dance she’s been forbidden to perform.
Tahira in Bloom by Farah Heron: When South Asian Muslim teen and aspiring fashion designer Tahira Janmohammad’s coveted internship falls through, she's forced to spend the summer working at her aunt's sleepy boutique in a rural community where the biggest event is an annual garden competition, where she'll have to innovate to keep her plan on track, possibly with help from the plant nerd next door, Rowan Johnston. 
The Taking of Jake Livingston by Ryan Douglass: Jake Livingston is one of the only Black kids at St. Clair Prep. But then he meets Sawyer, a troubled teen who shot and killed six kids at a local high school last year before taking his own life. Now a powerful, vengeful ghost, Sawyer has plans for his afterlife–plans that include Jake.
The Theft of Sunlight (Dauntless Path #2) by Instiar Khanani: Children have been disappearing from across Menaiya for longer than Amraeya ni Ansarim can remember. When her friend’s sister is snatched, Rae knows she can’t look away any longer - even if that means seeking answers from the royal court, where her country upbringing and clubfoot will only invite ridicule.
The Bronzed Beasts (The Gilded Wolves #3) by Roshani Chokshi: With only ten days until Laila expires, the crew will face plague pits and deadly masquerades, unearthly songs, and the shining steps of a temple whose powers might offer divinity itself...but at a price they may not be willing to pay. 
Things We Couldn’t Say by Jay Coles: A bi Black boy, Gio, finds first love and faces the return of the mother who abandoned his preacher family when he was nine.
This Poison Heart by Kalynn Bayron: In this contemporary fantasy inspired by The Secret Garden, Black teen Briseis has a gift: she can grow plants with a single touch. Up against a centuries-old curse and the deadliest plant on earth, Bri must harness her gift to protect herself and her family, when a nefarious group comes after her in search of a rare and dangerous immortality elixir. 
Tobyn, the It Girl (Flyy Girls #4) by Ashley Woodfolk: Tobyn Wolfe knows she’s destined to be a rock star, but too bad her mom can’t see this. She wants Tobyn to go to college and become a serious musician, but can Tobyn prove to her mom that she knows what’s best? 
Tokyo Ever After by Emiko Jean: After learning that her father is the Crown Prince of Japan, Izumi Tanaka travels to Tokyo, where she discovers that Japanese imperial life--with designer clothes, court intrigue, paparazzi scandals, and a forbidden romance with her handsome but stoic bodyguard, Akio--is a tough fit for the outspoken and irreverent 18-year-old from northern California.
The [Un]popular Vote by Jasper Sanchez: Transmasculine teen Mark Adams defies his congressman father and runs in a three-way democratic brawl for class president. 
A War of Swallowed Stars (Celestial Trilogy #3) by Sangu Mandanna: War is destroying the galaxy, and Esmae has vanished without a trace. Alexi, the exiled prince, is asked to pay a heavy price for his mistakes. As the end of the world draws ever closer, Esmae and Alexi must decide how far they’ll go to win—and who they’ll sacrifice along the way.
XOXO by Axie Oh: Korean American cello prodigy Jenny Go has her sights set on attending a prestigious conservatory, but finds all her careful plans upended when she spends part of her junior year at an elite music academy in Seoul, where she falls into a whirlwind secret romance with the lead singer of K-pop's biggest boy band, Jaewoo Bae. 
We Light Up the Sky by Lilliam Rivera: Latinx teens Pedro, Luna, and Rafa find themselves thrown together when an extraterrestrial visitor lands in their city and takes the form of Luna's cousin Tasha. As the Visitor causes destruction wherever it goes, they struggle to survive and warn others of what's coming. 
When Night Breaks (Kingdom of Hearts #2) by Janella Angeles: The competition has come to a disastrous end, and Daron Demarco’s fall from grace is now front page news. But little matters to him beyond Kallia, the contestant he fell for. With time running out, Kallia must embrace her role in a darker destiny. 
When We Were Them by Laura Taylor Namey: When they were 15, Willa, Luz, and Britton had a friendship that was everything. And when they were 18, Willa ruined it all. As Willa tries to find a way back to Luz and Britton, she must confront the why of her previous friendship betrayal. 
When You Look Like Us by Pamela N. Harris: A timely, gripping teen novel about a boy who must take up the search for his sister when she goes missing from a neighborhood where black girls’ disappearances are too often overlooked. 
Where the Rhythm Takes You by Sarah Dass: Based on Persuasion and set in the author's native Trinidad and Tobago, Reyna feels stuck running her family's seaside hotel, before the boy who was her (scorned) first love, Aiden Chandra, returns from America after two years, now as an international music star. 
White Smoke by Tiffany D. Jackson: Black teen Marigold and her blended family move into a newly renovated, picture-perfect home in a dilapidated Midwestern city, and are haunted by what she thinks are ghosts, but might be far worse. 
The Wild Ones by Nafiza Azad: A a multi-perspective feminist narrative about a fierce band of magic-wielding girls—the Wild Ones—who have collectively survived unspeakable things, and together are determined to save other girls from the cruelties and tragedies they've had to endure in their own past lives. 
Wild Tongues Can’t Be Tamed: 15 Voices from the Latinx Diaspora edited by Saraciea Fennell: A collection of essays and poems subverting different myths and stereotypes about the Latinx community. 
Wings of Ebony by J. Elle: Black teen Rue, from a poor neighborhood who, after learning she is half-human, half-goddess, must embrace both sides of her heritage to unlock her magic and destroy the racist gods poisoning her neighborhood with violence, drugs, and crime. 
Witches Steeped in Gold by Ciannon Thomas: In this Jamaican-inspired fantasy debut, two witches from enemy castes—one seeking power, and one seeking revenge—will stop at nothing to overthrow the witch queen, even if it means forming an alliance with each other and unleashing chaos on their island nation. 
Within These Wicked Walls by Lauren Blackwood: An Ethiopian-inspired Jane Eyre retelling in which an unlicensed debtera, or exorcist, Andromeda, is hired to rid a castle of its dangerous curses, only to fall in love with Magnus Rochester, a boy whose life hangs in the balance. 
Yesterday Is History by Kosoko Jackson: Black teen Andre Cobb undergoes a liver transplant and as a side effect winds up slipping through time from present-day Boston to 1969 NYC on the eve of the Stonewall riots, delivering a story that is part romance, part gay history, and part time-travel drama, exploring how far we have and haven’t come.
Yolk by Mary H.K. Choi: Struggling with emotional problems and an eating disorder, Jayne, a Korean American college student living in New York City, is estranged from her accomplished older sister June, until June gets cancer.
You’ve Reached Sam by Dustin Thao: Julie Clarke, heartbroken after her boyfriend Sam Obayashi’s death, calls his voicemail—but he picks up, and in a miraculous turn of events, they're given a second chance at goodbye. 
Zoe Rosenthal Is Not Lawful Good by Nancy Werlin: A buttoned-up overachiever works overtime to keep her inner nerd at bay—only to fail spectacularly. 
851 notes · View notes
lokiondisneyplus · 3 years
Text
LOKI 4 PRESIDENT! For a narcissist trickster sorcerer with the personality of a praying mantis, there are few occupations in the world that would suit Loki better than president of the United States. A few years ago, in the summer of 2016, comic book writer Christopher Hastings imagined just that in a satirical limited series for Marvel titled Vote Loki.
Five years later, Vote Loki has found its way to the Marvel Cinematic Universe. In the fifth episode of the Disney+ series, “Journey Into Mystery,” a variant Loki (still played by Tom Hiddleston) appears in the desolate “Void” surrounded by a Mad Max-esque posse. On Loki’s tattered blazer is a red, white, and blue “Loki” button, indicating this Loki was, uh, elected to lead. Turn on the subtitles on Disney+ and you’ll find this Loki is credited as “President Loki.”
In an email to Inverse, Christopher Hastings says he had no idea this was going to happen.
“I found out [they were doing Vote Loki] when a trailer for the show featured the campaign outfit from Vote Loki,” Hastings tells Inverse.
When Inverse exchanged emails with Hastings, it was prior to the episode’s premiere, to which Hastings said he was “very curious to see exactly what from the comic gets into the show.”
“I love time travel and multiverse material,” the writer says in praise of Loki. “I am a big fan of the TVA as a setting. I'm eager to see how it goes, and what it might mean for the next phase of MCU movies, especially since multiverse wackiness seems to be a major part of those upcoming movies.”
In 2004, while a student at the School of Visual Arts in New York City, Hastings wrote and illustrated The Adventures of Dr. McNinja, a serial webcomic about a doctor who is also a ninja. The series was a cult hit, at one point attracting 110,000 unique visitors a day. By 2011, Hastings was doing work for Marvel, writing single issues of A+X and Howard the Duck. With Chris Bachalo, he co-created Gwenpool — a bizarre blend of Spider-Man ex-girlfriend Gwen Stacy and Deadpool — and penned the 2016-2018 solo series The Unbelievable Gwenpool, teaming up with Japanese studio Gurihiru to create the character’s deeply unique comedic tone.
But during Gwenpool, Hastings spent the summer of 2016 playing with a different Marvel trickster: Loki. In the four-issue miniseries Vote Loki, Hastings spoofed the chaos that was the 2016 race between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump. In Vote Loki, an ambitious Loki seeks the seat of the president with a very unique campaign strategy: being honest about lying.
With “President Loki” having a minor cameo in the MCU, Inverse caught up with Hastings to look back on his explicitly political riff that took place inside the Marvel Universe.
This interview has been edited for clarity.
Take me back to the origins of Vote Loki. When did the seed for the story plant in your mind? What was going on in the world of culture/politics at that time?
Gosh, it's tough to come up with one thing specifically, because we were making the comic by the seat of our pants, and so many things got scrapped and rewritten along the way, often at the last second. But one of the core topics I wanted to cover had to do with narratives versus reality. It's kind of a given that in the world of politics, truth is this malleable thing, and now more than ever all you have to do to make people believe a lie is to repeat it enough times.
I liked the idea of Loki playing with narrative in a way that wasn't necessarily outright lying, more bending. (Except the bit about being born in Maryland. One outright lie there.) The other driving point I wanted to explore was how Americans can have a tendency to incorporate their national-level politics into part of their identity, and what that does to a person, particularly when a character like Loki is the one on the ticket.
What sort of conversations did you have with Marvel about a political satire starring Loki? What was the elevator pitch that got approval?
Like I said, things changed so many times, I'm not even entirely sure how many versions were kind of approved and then scrapped on the way to get to what was actually published. I think it was more that I assured editor Wil Moss that I could jump on the book (which Marvel was determined to make; they just hadn't decided who was writing it when I was pitching) after talking about the stuff about narrative and identity, and the basic idea that the viewpoint character shouldn't actually be Loki but a journalist covering Loki's campaign.
Vote Loki introduced the character of Nisa Contreras. What was the primary inspiration for her?
That would be my real-life friend, Nisa Contreras. She's not a journalist, but she’s someone I'm sure could take down Loki if he were a) real and b) got on her bad side. I wanted the story to be more about witnessing the tension and the comedy of Loki running for president, about not knowing what was up his sleeve. And so I came up with [a] journalist.
Vote Loki was published over the summer of 2016 when the election was ramping up in awkward ways. (“Pokémon Go to the polls!”) Did the real election influence the comic in any way, including any specific moments?
The comic was a direct response to things that were happening during the 2016 campaign, specifically that a “joke” candidate that was obviously terrible could get pretty far with enough media oxygen and a comfortable political system that ignored the disgust a lot of people had with it.
Vote Loki ran for four issues. Was there ever a possibility for more?
If it was a smash hit, I believe there would have been a President Loki to directly follow Vote Loki.
What do you think of Vote Loki's inclusion in the TV series?
Top five surreal moments of my life.
Do you think Vote Loki could be the focus of its own adapted series/movie?
Oh for sure. You wouldn't even have to take the material from our comic; there's so much more brand-new political madness that a new Vote Loki series or movie could tap into.
A lot has happened in the five years since Vote Loki was published. What are your feelings looking back now in 2021? Did your opinions on the book ever change?
There was a lot happening in American politics in 2016 I missed and wish I had been able to see to include. For example, how broken political polling has become. I had no idea, along with the rest of the country.
It was tricky to do a cohesive narrative amongst a shifting Marvel continuity we had to stay inside; a lot of feedback and demands from various sources within the company and an election that was changing every single day. It was truthfully (heh) a quite stressful book to write, but looking back on it I'm proud to see what we absolutely nailed about American culture. In particular, what we had to say about politics as entertainment and identity, and how a slippery enough politician can not only shake scandal [off] by speeding up an already fast news cycle but embrace and twist it to their advantage.
LOKI WILL AIR ITS FINAL EPISODE JULY 14 ON DISNEY+. VOTE LOKI IS AVAILABLE NOW.
70 notes · View notes
Text
‘The Revive Incantation’
During today’s Techno stream (June 21st), he referred to the contents of the revive book as an “incantation”. Well, my brain immediately thought of Dream singing the Healing song from Tangled to revive Tommy, and a few hours later I present this. The revive book requires a few things to work, and one of those things is a willingness to do a little backwards karaoke. (And yes, I rewrote the song from Tangled for this.)
Swirling around the words on the page were these beautiful gold pattern illustrations. They twisted and curled like the timid edges of a plant’s leaves, and each corner even featured a little golden flower. The muted ochre and emerald-green they had been painted with evoked the appearance of a totem, although there were no direct references to the other known method of cheating death. If there had been, it would’ve made the mystery behind the book’s origins - or indeed how Schlatt got his hands on it - a whole lot easier. But that hardly mattered now.
Dream ran his finger below the final line of the poem on the page for about the eightieth time, ensuring he’d fully committed it to memory again in case Sam were to unexpectedly arrive and he’d need to burn the book. He’d stopped visiting regularly since Tommy’s death, and he’d also ceased coming in the cell entirely. Still, one could never be too careful. His entire reason for still being alive was right there, a single stanza copied hastily from memory and hidden in the bottom of his chest weeks ago. The original revive book had been ornate and probably an antique: now it was ash, but as the process of revival required a physical reproduction of the text, here he was, double-checking he’d copied it down correctly one more time. God help him if he’d remembered it wrong.
Or rather, he thought, as he glanced over at the lifeless form of a teenager sat propped up against the wall a couple metres to his right, god help Tommy.
He wasn’t sure what he’d do if it didn’t work. As the text described, he had all the required components: the verses on parchment, the exanimate flesh and bones, the willing soul and a voice with which to… Sing? The poem. Incantation. Aloud. He wasn’t sure if those instructions were meant to be taken literally, and if so, what tune to follow. Unfortunately, much of the book’s compact contents were written in riddles and couplets and audaciously purple prose. The incantation itself was something of a curiosity: it was a spell to raise the dead, but it also appeared to carry a warning to those bold enough to speak it. A deterrent to those impermanent earthlings that trifled in the affairs of the deathless deities. But Dream hadn’t got this far by heeding warnings. And, whether he liked his current position or not (he didn’t), he and he alone held the ability to reverse a killing blow, so who’s really smiling.
With no conceivable reason to drag this out any longer, the prisoner got slowly to his feet and went to retrieve Tommy’s corpse. The boy’s eyelids were half-closed, and the eyes beneath were dull, devoid of the light and life the kid had once brought to everything. His skin was mottled in places, his bottom lip had bruised, he had a black eye and dried blood glueing it shut from where it had leaked from a gash in his forehead. Luckily, decomposition hadn’t started to set in yet, or Dream would’ve had to burn the body to avoid the smell. No, he was simply dead, and goodness, had it been a nice few days of quiet after a week of Tommy’s non-stop incessant talking and complaining and obnoxious humming. Sam had looked at him like he was crazy when he’d said he was enjoying the peace, but had he ever been stuck in a room with the kid for more than a few hours before? Maybe that’s how Tommy used to bend people to his will. Annoy them until they either backed down or declared major conflict.
Carefully, like one might handle a sleeping baby, he laid Tommy down in front of the book, and resumed his seat behind it, legs crossed. He turned the page so he could see the scribbled instructions again, scanned them one final time, then flipped the page back to the stanza he was supposed to sing. As if someone else had possessed him, within three words he knew instinctively and miraculously what melody to follow as he recited the verse:
‘Vessel torn apart Soul too weak to stay Gift another chance And wash lost days away Written on this page Mortals should not say Men must not play god And wash lost days away Lost days away’
As he sang, something incredible began to happen, so mesmerising for someone trapped with so little for so long that he almost stopped singing. The prompt on the page began to glow, golden light radiating off the page as the words took short-lived form in the air while he sang them. They danced and collapsed into each other, forming a sizable disk of light above them, before it began to slowly dissipate, filtering down into a stream that enveloped Tommy. His skin took on a new sheen; from beneath his eyelids, a soft yellow light emanated, and, during the time the light was fading, his fingers twitched, curling unconsciously like a newborn’s would as they slept.
It worked.
Without taking his eyes off Tommy slowly rejoining the land of the living, Dream fed the book to the lava stream endlessly running past and pooling below the cell. It melted quickly into the molten rock, stinging his fingers as it dissolved: Dream barely felt it, staring intently at the boy whose body once again contained a consciousness.
I did it. I brought someone back.
Tommy’s elbows found purchase on the obsidian floor and he sat himself up, hands then going to wipe his eyes. He winced in pain as he pressed the heel of his hand directly into his black eye, mumbling a few curse words under his breath in typical Tommy fashion. That seemed to bring him to his senses. He turned his head rapidly to compensate for being down fifty percent on sight, and his working eye made contact with Dream’s. His murderer practically watched as the reality of his situation came crashing around Tommy, and he physically recoiled, face contorted with shock.
I’m a god.
---
“Let me out! Or I’m gonna revive him.”
That is the power he holds now. The ultimate bargaining chip, and it works. Bless Schlatt for giving up this ace for something as trivial as allies. Tommy, Sam and Ghostbur are all screaming at each other at the top of their lungs, and for his purposes, it couldn’t be more perfect. He has gripped firmly in his left hand the crumpled paper he just quickly scrawled the stanza upon, and he’s reaching for Ghostbur with the other, because thanks to his protocols, it’ll only take a tap. They're all screaming and shouting and then the lava's coming down with a great groaning of pistons, and it’s plenty enough to cover for him to quickly and quietly sing the tune he’s memorized since last time. Sometimes he’d sing it when he sat alone in the endless hours without a clock or a visitor; a dirge to his dominance over the server, once and forever. Goodbye Ghostbur. So sorry. His eyes are dilated with fear when Dream pulls him sharply against the barrier, and he dies with a sickening crack. Tommy’s screams drown out the end of the song entirely.
They do say, however, that there’s a new busker on the train platform, and he’s got a rather interesting song to share.
71 notes · View notes
pocketseizure · 3 years
Text
A Noble Pursuit
Tumblr media Tumblr media
None of the lessons from the Gerudo Classroom have prepared Rhondson for married life with Hudson, who has grown restless and disappeared from Tarrey Town a year after its founding. She travels to the Akkala Citadel Ruins to hunt for her husband while reflecting on the bridges that will need to be rebuilt in order for Hyrule to embrace a peaceful future.
This story about archaeology, castles, ruins, cultural differences, giant monster friends, and what it means “to live happily ever after” was written for @memorabiliazine​, and it’s also on AO3 (here). The accompanying illustrations are by the stylish scholar @pocketwei​.
. . . . . . . . . .
This wasn’t the first time Rhondson had set off on a husband hunt.
It was late summer, almost a year after the ghost of the Great Calamity vanished from the castle. Most of Hyrule was still green, but the first touches of red and gold had already begun to appear on the trees of Akkala. It was chilly when Rhondson left Tarrey Town, but the morning fog had lifted and the sky was crystal clear.
Rhondson had always enjoyed mornings. Most people woke up early in the desert and took a nap during the worst heat of the afternoon so that they could stay up late into the evening. Rhondson kept the same schedule in Tarrey Town, a practice that Hudson found inexplicably upsetting. He complained, almost every day now, that she never went to bed with him. He insisted that a man and his wife should fall asleep together. Rhondson explained that she enjoyed sewing by lamplight at night, when the world is quiet and even the plainest thread shines like gold, but he refused to understand.
Hudson had recently grown restless. Perhaps it was because of the tension in their relationship, or perhaps it was only the change of season, but he left Tarrey Town one afternoon and never returned. Ashai’s classes hadn’t prepared Rhondson for this. They’d talked so much about how to catch a man, but never about how to keep him. She wondered if other vai had the same problem. All of the romances she read when she was younger ended with a “happily ever after,” but what was supposed to happen the next day? And the day after that?
All things considered, Rhondson was content with her life in Tarrey Town. Her feelings about the settlement had been ambiguous at first. The location was out-of-the-way, to say the least, but the town received more visitors than she’d expected. The son of the two Sheikah researchers who lived in an old lighthouse up on the northern cliffs made his living as a traveling merchant of fine clothing, and he saw to it that Rhondson always had work. Tarrey Town was unique in its appeal as a marketplace for goods from all over Hyrule, and Hudson’s brightly painted modular houses had become something of a tourist attraction. He’d been flooded with orders for summer rental homes, and a satellite community had sprung up on the other side of the bridge to satisfy the demand.
Hudson managed to keep himself busy, but he seemed to harbor doubts about establishing Tarrey Town on such a small island. To make matters worse, many of the people who’d come to town for the summer were starting to drift away as the days became shorter. Perhaps they were worried about Akkala’s infamous autumn thunderstorms. Rhondson happened to enjoy the heavy rains, whose gale winds and lightning crashes reminded her of the sandstorms back home, but she understood how the violent weather and sudden drop in temperature might put off people who weren’t accustomed to the climate. She’d camped at more than a few oasis waystations during her travels, and she knew it was perfectly natural for the population of a place like Tarrey Town to wax and wane with the season.
Rhondson tried to explain to Hudson how it was normal for people to come and go. Many of the town residents were nomadic by nature, she said, and they had no excuse not to indulge their wanderlust now that it was safe to travel. Hudson adamantly refused to listen. He insisted that a man’s home was his castle. But why not have two castles, Rhondson objected. And people would come back next summer, she reasoned. They’d had to hire new workers to perform upkeep on the vacation homes during the winter, after all, so it wasn’t as though the population was shrinking. If he was feeling ambitious, she added with a wink, they might be able to add their own contribution to the town’s population.
“I’m just not sure how long this town will last,” Hudson replied, ending the conversation with a sigh.
His admission put Rhondson ill at ease, and she couldn’t help recalling Hudson’s anxiety when she realized that he hadn’t come home during the night. “Sometimes you have to treat voe like children,” Ashai had once explained. “There will be times when they take action without thinking about how it will affect you, but it’s likely that their behavior comes from simple thoughtlessness, not spite.” Rhondson didn’t know about that. She’d met enough silly and immature vai in her life to understand that voe didn’t have a monopoly on being pigheaded. Still, if Hudson had gone out and gotten himself lost, purposefully or otherwise, she might as well go find him.
Rhondson set out from Tarrey Town and walked due south, pacing herself as she made her way up the gentle slope of the hills leading to Upland Zorana. Once the mountains began in earnest, she turned west at the road leading to the old stone quarry and kept going until she could see the waterfalls at the source of Lake Akkala.
She’d crossed the Sokkala Bridges when she first came to Tarrey Town instead of taking the longer road to the north, and she was just as impressed by them now as she was then. The log bridges were simple structures, really, not much more than planks laid over support pillars embedded in the banks of the rivulets flowing from the waterfall basin, but they were sturdy and well-constructed. A traveler could cross them with ease, secure enough in their footing to look up and appreciate the rainbows that danced in the misty spray of the waterfalls.
Not every bridge needed to be the Bridge of Hylia, Rhondson thought. Perhaps it was better if most bridges weren’t, in fact. The Bridge of Hylia was a magnificent piece of work, to be sure, but it seemed as though it was already in a state of disrepair even before the Great Calamity. Judging from the conversations between Hudson and his former boss Bolson, no living stonemason had any idea how to repair its gargantuan supports. Meanwhile, more modest structures like the Sokkala Bridges could be maintained whenever the need arose. In their own way, the Sokkala Bridges were just as important at the Bridge of Hylia, even if they never became monuments.
As she crossed the final bridge, Rhondson could see the hazy outline of Akkala Citadel rising in the west. Its massive size was impressive, but she couldn’t imagine it being particularly beneficial to anyone. Truth be told, the ruins weren’t much more than a glorified pile of old stone bricks that could almost certainly be put to better use elsewhere. Speaking of which, Rhondson was starting to get an inkling of where Hudson might have gotten himself off to. “A man’s home is his castle,” he liked to say, and how intriguing it must have been to have an actual castle so close to home, especially if its materials could be repurposed.
Rhondson headed north when the road forked and made her way across the old high bridge over the river, carefully navigating the deep fissures in the stone. Once she was safely on the other side, she began climbing the winding path up the mountain.
The leaves of the trees on the upper slopes of the hill had already turned a bold shade of crimson, and the weathered steel of the Sheikah Tower gleamed in the sun. Rumor had it that the citadel used to be patrolled by Guardians, but nothing confronted Rhondson save for a few moss-covered remnants of ceramic casing. Parts of the road had been washed away in a landslide, probably after the Malice swamp dried up, but the majority of the paving stones were still intact.
Rhondson entered the gatehouse at the foot of the outer wall surrounding the citadel. The inside was littered with rubble from a century-old battle, and the remains of more recent Bokoblin campfires were scattered across the floor. A partially overturned Guardian occupied a corner of the room, its segmented legs folded neatly underneath its casing like the paws of a sleeping cat. When she first set out from the desert, Rhondson had been terrified of encountering a Guardian, but she’d grown fond of the broken bits and pieces of their chassis that had been left beside Hyrule’s roads to remind travelers to remain vigilant. Their round faces and decoratively textured bodies were actually a bit cute, like oversized toys.
Rhondson passed through the gatehouse and entered a small courtyard. The walls of the citadel rose on every side of the open space, but the gaps between turrets were wide enough for the sun to shine through and warm the paving stones. One side of the courtyard was dominated by a large alcove that was probably used to shelter horses. The bare soil under the dilapidated wooden awning was covered in pale green scrub bush and dotted with bright yellow wildflowers.
A covered walkway ran along the opposite wall, connecting the gatehouse to the larger body of the citadel. As Rhondson followed the shaded path, she imagined how heavily the snowfall would accumulate at this altitude. She didn’t envy the soldiers tasked with shoveling duty. She glanced at the enormous wooden door that marked the entrance to the main hall, but its iron fittings were orange with rust. Thankfully, the smaller door at the end of the walkway was barely hanging by its hinges, and Rhondson had no trouble pushing it open.
She called Hudson’s name into the shadows of the citadel. Aside from the echo of her own voice, there was no answer. It probably wasn’t safe to go inside, but she had already come so far. Rhondson figured that she may as well make sure that Hudson wasn’t here before she left. 
The interior of the fortress wasn’t nearly as impressive as its silhouette. The entryway was much smaller than she expected, and the floor was made of packed earth. As Rhondson’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, she could see that the wooden beams of the ceiling were exposed. They were dark with ash. The smoke had probably come from the tall braziers secured to the pillars set into the stone walls.
Rhondson walked across the hall, glancing around her with interest. A few piles of old leaves moldered just inside the open service door, but the room was remarkably clean. The tapestries displayed in the bays between pillars still retained some of their color, and wooden weapons racks still clung to the stone walls next to the main gate. Rhondson realized that the earth floor must absorb the humidity of summer and the chill of winter, keeping the wood and cloth relatively preserved. The layer of ash coating the wooden beams of the ceiling probably helped protect them from the elements as well.
Large passageways ringed with shallow arches connected the central hall to the east and west wings, but Rhondson was more interested in a spiral staircase carved into the back wall. Although she had to bend her head to enter, the stairs bore her weight. Each step dipped slightly toward the middle from centuries of use. As she climbed to the next floor, Rhondson was amused by the thought of walking in the footsteps of people who had lived so long ago.
The room above was much smaller than the citadel’s entrance, but its ceiling was almost as high. The walls were constructed of the same unpainted white limestone as the fortress exterior. Their rough surfaces were irregularly broken by small rectangular windows positioned slightly above eye level. Some of the glass panes were missing, allowing a cool breeze to enter the bright and sun-warmed space, but the floorboards were level and seemed solid enough
Rhondson began to make her way from room to room. Her first thought was that the haphazard layout was due to poor planning, but she gradually realized that different parts of the Akkala Citadel must have been built at different times, more than likely after various battles. Very few furnishings remained in the deserted fortress, but the architecture differed so drastically between rooms that it was clear she was walking through different periods of history. Rhondson was amazed by the evolution of the windows, which became larger and more ornate as she walked. She imagined that this was what Hyrule Castle must look like, an amalgamation of architectural styles that had grown and transformed along with the kingdom itself.
Rhondson enjoyed her stroll through the ruins, but Hudson was nowhere to be found. The sun was already low in the sky, so she made her way outside and began her descent. From her vantage point at the top of the path, she could see a flat patch of land at the base of the hill. The soldiers stationed here must have used it as a parade ground for exercise and training. It would be as good a place as any to make camp.
Dusk had begun to gather by the time she arrived on the field, and the shadows lay long across the tall grass. Rhondson didn’t see the Hinox immediately, but she could smell it. The odor wasn’t unpleasant, but it was unmistakable. As soon as she realized that she wasn’t alone, Rhondson turned to leave. Most Hinoxes tended to ignore the travelers that wandered into their vicinity, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
Without warning, the Hinox bellowed. Its scream sent startled birds up from the nearby trees in a rush of beating wings and angry squawking. Rhondson prepared herself to make a run for her life, but she was stopped in her tracks by a voice she would recognize anywhere.
“Don’t cry, you big baby. It only stings at first. You’ll feel better in two shakes of a blupee’s tail.”
Rhondson shook her head with amusement as she walked across the field toward the source of the voice. The Hinox pouted at her, giant tears spilling from its eye.
“Hudson?”
The broad-shouldered man crouching beside the Hinox jerked his head up. “Rhondson? What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing. I came looking for you. Is this where you’ve been this whole time?”
“I meant to come back last night,” Hudson replied, averting his eyes. “But this oaf hurt his foot while helping me clear away the rubble on the path up the mountain, and I couldn’t just leave him like this. The wound would have suppurated, and he’s all alone out here.”
Rhondson gave the Hinox a closer look and saw that it – he – had a deep gash on his heel. Hudson was cleaning it with a balled-up wad of fabric. If she wasn’t mistaken, it was the first workshirt she’d sewn for him. She’d made it just as they were starting to get to know one another, before she knew his measurements, and it fit him poorly. She asked him to throw it away and bury it with the compost months ago, but he’d apparently kept it. Hudson was surprisingly sentimental for a man who insisted on utility over decoration. It was one of the things she liked about him.
Rhondson smiled as she shrugged her pack onto the ground and dug out a jar of safflina salve. As Hudson helped her dress the Hinox’s wound, he explained that he had indeed come here to assess the state of the stonework. He assumed the citadel would be in ruins, but the structure was still sound. It would be a shame to dismantle it. With a few minor renovations, it would be almost as good as new. Still, making it more habitable would mean reducing its efficacy as a fortress.
“But what does that matter?” Rhondson asked. “Who’s going to attack it?”
“There are monsters roaming about, and…”
“Does this ‘monster’ look like he’s going to attack anyone?”
The Hinox had fallen asleep as they talked and was snoring lightly.
“He’s not a monster,” Hudson replied with a frown.
“Exactly. It seems to me that you’re already thinking about hiring him to work for you.”
“I’m not… Well, I guess I am. Having a Hinox around would be useful, especially if I decide to fix up this place, but we’d have to knock down some of the interior walls to make more room for him.”
Rhondson winced as she remembered all the times she’d banged her forehead on Hylian doorways. Now that she thought about it, there was no reason for those doors to be so low in the first place, especially not when her husband could so easily make them more accommodating. “Weren’t you planning to knock down the walls anyway?” she pointed out. “You could use the materials to repair the bridge.”
“But it’s disrespectful not to honor the past,” Hudson objected. “Shouldn’t the history of the Akkala Citadel be preserved?”
“It’s in ruins.” Rhondson put a hand on his shoulder. “One day you’ll have to come with me to visit my family. Everything in Gerudo Town is built on top of history. Nothing gets done if you worry about preserving the past as it once was. Living things change, and that includes old castles like this.”
“Maybe it includes towns too,” Hudson replied. “I guess it won’t be so bad if Tarrey Town grows. We could have a sister city maybe, right here on this hill. It would be a convenient waystation for travelers.” He thought for a moment. “And a good place for Hinoxes, too. It’s built on their scale, at least, and they’re all over Akkala. It’s a shame they always have to sleep in the open. Besides, Mason looks like he could use a friend. He’ll be lonely without me.”
Mason? Rhondson grinned at the name her husband had assigned to the Hinox. “Are you going to bring him home, then?” she asked.
“Home is wherever you are, Rhondson. We’ll go wherever you like. I missed you.”
“I missed you too, but we can spend a night or two away from Tarrey Town. I’d like to go back to the citadel tomorrow morning. I don’t think anyone has been inside this place for at least a hundred years.”
The sun had finally set, and stars were beginning to shine in the deepening indigo of the twilight sky. Rhondson smiled as she pictured the castle on the hill once again filled with lights. There was a certain charm to speculating on what the past might have been like, but the future held much more potential for imagination.
63 notes · View notes
conradscrime · 2 years
Text
The Devil’s Footprints
Tumblr media
October 04, 2021
What’s known as the Devil’s Footprints was a phenomenon that happened during February of 1855 around the Exe Estuary in East and South Devon, England. 
One night after a heavy snowfall, trails of hoof-like footprints appeared in the snow overnight and covered a distance of around 40 to 100 miles. Religious leaders had never seen anything like the footprints before, and with no further explanation believed that these were the footprints of Satan. While many believe there are plausible explanations for these footprints, some still like to say the Devil walked around England for a couple nights. 
On the night of February 8 going into February 9, 1855, and one or two nights after that, these mysterious footprints appeared that were about 4 inches long, 3 inches across, and between 8 to 16 inches apart, mostly walking in a single file. These footprints were reported in over 30 locations across Devon and a couple locations in Dorset. 
The footprints appeared to have walked straight across houses, rivers, haystacks and other objects. They had first appeared on the tops of snow-covered roofs and high walls, as well as leading up to drain pipes. 
On May 26, 1855, an issue of Bell’s Life in Sydney published in the Miscellaneous Extracts column dated February 18 talked about the footprints. It reads as follows: 
“It appears on Thursday night last, there was a very heavy snowfall in the neighbourhood of Exeter and the South of Devon. On the following morning the inhabitants of the above towns were surprised at discovering the footmarks of some strange and mysterious animal endowed with the power of ubiquity, as the footprints were to be seen in all kinds of unaccountable places – on the tops of houses and narrow walls, in gardens and court-yards, enclosed by high walls and pailings, as well in open fields."
"The superstitious go so far as to believe that they are the marks of Satan himself; and that great excitement has been produced among all classes may be judged from the fact that the subject has been descanted on from the pulpit."
"The impressions of the foot closely resembled that of a donkey's shoe, and measured from an inch and a half to (in some instances) two and a half inches across. Here and there it appeared as if cloven, but in the generality of the steps the shoe was continuous, and, from the snow in the centre remaining entire, merely showing the outer crest of the foot, it must have been concave."
Though there are many theories that these footprints are those of the Devil himself, there is no real direct evidence to prove anything. The only known documents of this phenomena were found in 1950 when article had asked for further information about the event. 
A noted researcher named Mike Dash collected all the available primary and secondary source material on the subject and wrote a paper on it titled “The Devil’s Hoofmarks: Source Material on the Great Devon Mystery of 1855″ and was published in 1994. 
Many investigators are skeptical that the footprints had actually walked as far as they had, because nothing would have been able to follow that entire course of more than 100 miles in just one day. Also the eye-witness descriptions of what the footprints looked like had varied from person to person. 
Researcher Mike Dash himself believes the prints were made from multiple sources, including donkeys and ponies, wood mice and some even being hoaxes themselves. Dash admitted that these did not explain all the reported marks, which is why it is still a mystery today. 
An author named Geoffrey Household suggested that “an experimental balloon” was released by mistake from the Devonport Dockyard and had left the tracks trailing two shackles on the end of its mooring ropes. He claimed his source to be a local man named Major Carter, whose grandfather had worked at the dockyard at the time. Carter said that the event had been quieted because the balloon had wrecked a number of greenhouses, windows and conservatories. Some skeptics questioned this balloon theory, wondering how a balloon could travel at such a random zigzag course without getting caught in a tree or other object. 
Rev. G. M. Musgrave wrote a letter to the Illustrated London News in 1855, that it was reported of some kangaroos escaped from a private menagerie, though no one was sure if the kangaroos had escaped, nor how they could have crossed the Exe estuary. Supposedly, Musgrave himself said that he invented the story to distract others from the concerns of the Devil. 
A man named Richard Owen believed that the footprints were from a badger, claiming that it was the only “plantigrade quadruped” on the island and that it leaves a very large footprint. 
These prints have shown up at other times in history, in other places in the world, though the footprints have not walked on a path as long as it did in Devon. Supposedly, 15 years earlier there was a report of an unknown animal tracks in Scotland. The print was the same, but the sole seemed to be a little longer or not so round, and from the depth to which the print was in the snow it seemed that whatever creature made the mark was pretty large in size. It also appears that the walk of the creature is almost a limp, instead of how most quadrupeds walk. It was reported that the creature walked at least 12 miles. 
In the Illustrated London news on March 17, 1855, a correspondent from Heidelberg wrote that there had been similar tracks seen in the snow every year on what is known as Sand Hill which is small elevation on the border of Galicia in Congress Poland. These tracks are said to be attributed by supernatural influences according to Heidelberg. 
On the night of March 12, 2009, similar marks were made and during 2013 it was reported that there was similar marks but they were believed to be an April Fool’s hoax in Girvan, Scotland. 
To this day, the footprints are from an unknown creature or person and will probably remain a mystery. 
19 notes · View notes
swirlmup · 3 years
Video
youtube
Part 2 of FRWBY volume 5 is now live! Which means it’s now time for another art-dump post. ^o^
Vernal was actually a character that I wasn’t enthusiastic about redesigning at all at first. She was such a blob of nothing in the canon show, I felt no emotional attachment, so it was hard to imagine putting in the creative effort over time. That slowly started to change over time though, as her character was finally started filled in and developed. Making her Raven’s daughter was a rather significant changing point.
Tumblr media
Even as we were still trying to figure out her overall design, it was fun to play with the concept of how Vernal and Raven interact with each other. xD
Eventually I grew so attached that I absolutely insisted on illustrating the scene with Vernal’s first appearance, which leads us to the first piece of art I contributed to this video.
Tumblr media
This was my major project for this volume lol, and towards the end i was feeling insane from the amount of time I’d spent on it. Still, it was so rewarding to carefully paint my daughter, and to detail each of the unique members of the bandit tribe.
After this, all the art I’d do would all be pickups for scenes that other artists couldn’t cover, but otherwise needed illustration. 
Tumblr media
Some people picked up on it in the video, but the faunus who’s being a jerk right now is indeed a donkey lol. For all my pickup art, I did them as morning paints, which means I only spent about 2 hours or so on each of them and completed each one in a day. Although this one here with Blake took roughly twice that long because I got caught up in details. xD
Tumblr media
This one with Weiss and Vernal went a lot better however. I especially loved being able to go ham with the starry water reflections and the fireflies. xD It’s such a touching and soft scene. Although the tribe here was rendered in silhouettes so it may be hard to see, it was also nice to block in some child-silhouettes as part of the tribe.
Tumblr media
Vernal ended up with the most detailed reference sheet out of any character I’ve done for FRWBY so far. xD It was so fun to even give her a unique face compared to other characters. A lot of time and effort was spent on her, and I’m so excited for everyone to see more of her in the volume going forward~
Till then!
21 notes · View notes
earthstory · 4 years
Photo
Tumblr media
The New Madrid Seismic Zone About once a year, residents of the counties at the border between Kentucky, Tennessee, Missouri, and Arkansas will feel the ground roll beneath their feet. This image maps out the location of earthquakes in this area over a 30-year period and clearly illustrates a major feature: the New Madrid Seismic Zone. This zone produces about 1 quake that can be felt per year in addition to many small earthquakes…and has historically produced really big ones.
The pattern of earthquakes clearly traces out a fault with 3 segments. This fault is not exposed at the surface; these earthquakes take place about 10 kilometers below the Earth’s surface on faults that are remnants of the continent’s ancient history. The story of the New Madrid Seismic Zone begins over 1.5 billion years ago. The continent that would eventually become North America was growing by adding volcanic arcs onto the core that is today found in Canada, expanding outwards a block at a time, when something changed. The center of the growing continent began to pull apart, forming a long rift valley. That valley is named the “Reelfoot Rift”. We don’t know exactly what all the plates were doing that long ago, but its clear that the continent started opening and things stalled. A comparison might be the East African Rift Zone today; the Arabian plate has fully pulled away from Africa to form the Red Sea, but East Africa itself is forming a deep, fault-filled basin loaded with volcanoes. If the East African rift shut down, it would eventually look a lot like the Reelfoot Rift. The continent bears many scars from this rifting. There are igneous rocks throughout the area formed between 1.5 and 1.3 billion years ago. during this rifting Measurements of the gravity and magnetic fields over the rift also illustrate its presence. The modern Mississippi River even generally follows this valley today as the ancient faults still allow enough movement to make the rift zone a lowland in the continent’s center. The faults formed during this rifting event don’t appear at the surface, they have been buried by sediments deposited by the Mississippi River system over the last 100 million years. The cities in the Central United States therefore sit mostly on top of fairly loose sediments that filled in these lowlands at the center of the continent. This is the area that in the early 1800s suffered a surprising series of disasters. Three of the largest earthquakes in U.S. history occurred in the area between Missouri, Arkansas, Tennessee, and Kentucky over a period of about 3 months starting on December 16, 1811. With earthquakes that occurred before modern seismic instruments were around to measure them it can be difficult to fully tell the story, but these events are important enough that scientists have assembled many details. See how there are 3 segments to the fault? You’ve already seen the reason why there were 3 quakes. The first quake took place on the southernmost segment and ruptured in a strike-slip motion. The second quake took place on the middle segment and ruptured a normal fault. The final quake took place on the northernmost segment and again had a strike-slip motion. This structure therefore looks like a piece of the rift, a normal fault segment with two large strike-slip faults on its edge. The quakes were extremely powerful; USGS estimates place their moment magnitudes at 7.5, 7.7, and 7.7; comparable in strength to the 7.8 Mw 1906 San Francisco Earthquake. Because the crust in the Eastern U.S. is older and colder than that in the west, the shaking transmitted over a greater distance; historical records report the earthquakes caused church bells to ring as far away as Boston. The quakes were a disaster for this area even though the population was sparse. The fault motion shifted the Mississippi River’s position, creating the modern Reelfoot Lake and also drowned and submerged many other areas. Sediments shifted and blew out of the ground across the region. Any structures present were likely destroyed, although there are very few remaining records. There was enough damage that a single landholder named John Hardeman Walker was able to cheaply buy up the affected land in the years following the quake as most of the inhabitants simply left. When Missouri became a state in 1818 he lobbied for inclusion of his land in Missouri at the expense of Arkansas, leading to the inclusion of 3 counties in Missouri as a “bootheel”. The New Madrid quakes therefore literally show up on the U.S. map. Although these events are huge, they’re very much an anomaly. We teach that most major earthquakes are associated with boundaries between plates; even if the earthquake is happening far inland of the plate boundary it tends to relate to plate tectonics. The New Madrid quakes are so far from any plate boundary it’s extremely hard to say what is driving the motion on the faults. There are ideas. We do know that plates can transmit stresses long distances as they move; the New Madrid area could be feeling the impact of stresses as far away as California. The New Madrid Area could also be responding to the change in mass on top of it from melting of the huge ice sheets 12,000 years ago. Finally, there are even proposals that a small mantle “hotspot” has interacted with the Central U.S. over the past few million years and that could contribute to stress on the New Madrid Faults. These big quakes aren’t the only things this fault zone has produced. Not only do we see that earthquakes continue to this day, but scientists have also found evidence for previous earthquakes in the centuries prior to historical documentation. When these quakes happen, loose sand in the soil bursts onto the surface like a geyser, a feature called a “sand blow” or a “sand boil” (sand blows covering the land were probably a big reason why it was cheap to buy after the 1812 quakes). Older sand blows have been found indicating several large quake sequences happened on this fault before historical records were recorded, with the most recent ones happening about 1350 and 900 a.d. Furthermore, seismic techniques have been used to image the subsurface throughout the Mississippi valley and found evidence of faults across a broad area that have been active over the past few million years - not just these exact faults, but a multitude of them throughout the valley. The sequence of prehistoric earthquakes and the ongoing smaller quakes is good evidence that this fault is still an active threat. If the smaller quakes were aftershocks of the 1812 sequence, there would be fewer of them with time; instead their rate is pretty much constant, suggesting they’re caused by continued stress on the fault. Although the fault most recently ruptured about 400-500 years apart, there’s no reason why it can’t go sooner next time. In fact, during the US Geological Survey’s most recent earthquake hazard assessment, they increased their assessment of risk from this fault system due to the mapping of the prehistoric earthquakes. If this fault system ruptures again, there are vastly more people in this area than last time. St. Louis, Memphis, and Nashville are all in the area that could see heavy shaking; smaller cities like Paducah, Jackson, Evansville would feel it as well, and smaller towns even closer to the epicenter could feel even stronger shaking. Several factors would likely increase the damage to these cities even beyond what is observed in major earthquakes elsewhere. Almost all the buildings in these areas sit on sediments deposited by the Mississippi River and loose sediments are extremely weak during earthquakes. When shaken, loose sediments break apart and lose all strength, a phenomenon known as liquefaction. Any buildings built atop those sediments will be at risk of severe damage or even collapse (http://tmblr.co/Zyv2Js1WTUw1o). These areas also have very little in the way of building codes that could limit damage. Building codes are hugely important during earthquakes as unprepared buildings tend to completely collapse while limited building codes can save huge numbers of lives. Some of the states in the area do have seismic building codes, but many local areas do not. Major commercial buildings tend to do pretty well during earthquakes if the ground does not liquefy, but only 10% of the local areas have seismic building codes covering residential homes. If another earthquake were to hit these areas, residences would be absolutely devastated and the losses would rival the recent hurricanes as the worst disasters in U.S. history. If you live in these areas, earthquake preparation is smart. Have an earthquake kit, including stored water (http://tmblr.co/Zyv2Js1pz9oUR). Make sure your family knows what to do if a quake starts. Practice the “Drop, cover, and hold on” techniques during the yearly shakeout drills. If you own property, see about a seismic retrofit – a few cheap upgrades can be the difference between no damage and a house being completely lost (http://tmblr.co/Zyv2Js1puIWDj). And, if you have any influence on the political processes in the area, keep pressure on decision-makers to be ready. Cities can and should practice earthquake emergency responses and building codes in this area need to be upgraded to reflect the seismic risk. This fault system is still there and active. It might be 300+ years before another major quake series strikes, or it could be much less. If a major quake does hit, this is not an area you want to be in given current preparation levels. -JBB Image credit: http://bit.ly/1CTZavp Read more (tons of references): https://www.usgs.gov/natural-hazards/earthquake-hazards/lists-maps-and-statistics http://dnr.mo.gov/geology/geosrv/geores/techbulletin1.htm http://www.new-madrid.mo.us/index.aspx?nid=132 http://s1.sos.mo.gov/archives/history/bootheel http://www.showme.net/~fkeller/quake/maps.htm http://pubs.usgs.gov/fs/2009/3071/pdf/FS09-3071.pdf http://pubs.usgs.gov/pp/1538e/report.pdf http://www.britannica.com/event/New-Madrid-earthquakes-of-1811-1812 http://www.reelfoot.com/new_madrid_earthquake.htm http://bit.ly/1OvtNsu http://www.shakeout.org/centralus/
334 notes · View notes
yurimother · 4 years
Text
LGBTQ Manga Review – Syrup: A Yuri Anthology Vol. 1
Tumblr media
Shakaijin Yuri, stories featuring love between adult women who have left school, is a well-established corner in the Japanese Yuri market. Over the past few months, the scene started to pick up its full force in the West. English audiences are experiencing new Shakaijin series, both contemporary like Still Sick and older such as The Conditions of Paradise. For me, there are few works so prolific and intrinsic to the Shakaijin boom as Syrup. In Japanese, the subtitle reads Shakaijin Yuri Anthology. While the English release drops the subgenre's label, the content remains the same, an anthology dedicated to nothing but Yuri love stories featuring adult women from some of the Yuri industries best. However, Syrup's focus on mature and workplace stories more than piqued my interest. However, readers will likely be disappointed with this inconsistent and often forgettable anthology that is just as sour as sweet.
Tumblr media
One of Syrup's main draws is its contributors. Some of the best in the Yuri world touched this manga, and even Western Yurijin will likely recognize a few of the names like Yukiko (Futaribeya), Itou Hachi (Kindred Spirits on the Roof), and of course Morinaga Milk (Girl Friends). It is always exciting to read a story from one of your favorites. Even I, who cares rather little for authorship, was happy to see Ohi Pikachi, who wrote the incredible Our Teachers are Dating, among the list. It also provides readers with a chance to familiarize themselves with unfamiliar creators like Amano Shuninta and Kurogane Ken, who grace the anthology with some of its best chapters.
Another benefit of having such a variety of contributors is the plethora of different art styles in the anthology. There is such a stark yet fun contrast between more mature or sensuous styles like Matsuzaki Natsumi and Ito Hachi's bubble moe characters. The manga spans almost every point between these two styles, and just flipping through the pages to look at the artwork can be a fun experience. Of course, some are more polished than others. Mochi_Au_Lait's simplistic and flat style stands as an unfortunate outlier among some other fabulous artists. However, their story, "The Cram School Teachers," is one of the funniest in the anthology. Not every story's aesthetics will suit all readers, but that is the point of a collection, to sample a wide array of talents. Fly's beautiful cover illustration wraps the fantastic art within, standing as a crown jewel of Yuri manga covers.
Tumblr media
Unfortunately, the plot and characters are not nearly as enjoyable as the art. While a mixture of aesthetics can add to a work, different story styles often feel inconsistent. For this reason, I usually prefer collections of a single author's short stories, like Rouge Nagashiro's Eve and Eve and Morishima Akiko's The Conditions of Paradise. However, a unifying theme can often correct this issue. Sadly, a few too many of the stories seem to revel in the more "adult" allowances of adult characters and ironically created some of the most immature entries in the anthology.
Before diving too deep into the weeds of mediocrity, there are some chapters in Syrup worthy of highlight. Two of the best chapters, Shioya Teruko's "Promise" and Kurogane Kenn's "Rose Quartz" feature women in established relationships taking the next step in their relationship. Reading about these women celebrate their feelings for each other is wholesome, charming, and even sensual. The latter of the two stories is also one of the few to use adult content in a way that feels more mature. It clarifies the characters' love and attraction for each other, rather than just flashing a panel of exposed breasts for fanservice. It is great to see artists use their allowance to show a little more in profound ways while not letting it run away from them. It demonstrates admirable restraint and thoughtful writing that respects its characters.
Tumblr media
Other interesting chapters include "Mama X Mom," which is less about the sexual relationship between two women and focuses on the character's emotional bonds in a unique situation. Ito Hachi's "First Grown-Up Love" perhaps lives up to the Syrup title the most, as it is an adorably sweet and fluffy tale of first love at adulthood. As one of the longer stories, it also has a bit more time for subtly and, thus, it includes some of the stronger and more interesting characters.
Sadly, most of the stories in Syrup are incredibly mediocre. Telling a compelling narrative with interesting characters in such a brief form, in some cases as short as six pages, is a daunting task that most chapters fail to overcome. They are utterly dull and forgetful, with characters designed with little more than maybe a job and the fact that they are interested in a woman in mind. They leave little impression, and even in the moment of reading, one finds themselves tired and wishing for the passage to end. A few tales show some modicum of potential, like Kodama Naoko's "Daily Smile," but they often end before they can get going.
Tumblr media
A few dull chapters are acceptable, as tastes will vary, and many will enjoy some of the stories that left me utterly unenthused. However, where Syrup struggles are in its weak chapters. Some, like Yoshimura Kana's "Coward Queen," a confusing and offputting depiction of two women making a pornographic movie, and Matsuzaki Natsumi's "My Femme Fatale" revel far too much in displaying as much nudity as they can get away with before being labeled as porn. The former of these portray a lust for sadism that clashes with the rest of the primarily mundane anthology. It might even spoiler the next several chapters, as it is one of the first stories and leaves readers with immense displeasure.
There are some questionable attitudes towards boundaries and crossing lines, even outside the more salacious and exploitative stories. Depictions or descriptions of actions like staring at a woman's underwear or breasts, or awkwardly splurting out "I'm a virgin," are tossed out casually, often portrayed as romantic. Now, this manga is a work of fiction and can be enjoyed even with some more questionable aspects, as they usually are not deal breakers here. However, the dated attitudes feel like something out of an '80s comedy, not in a manga that, in all else, appears to at least attempt to hold an air of realism. This pervasive element at best makes an already struggling story worse, but it can add unpleasant notes to otherwise delightful offerings.
Tumblr media
There is no better example of potentially compelling work squandered by its unsavory elements than Morinaga Milks "Working with an Angel." It starts pretty well, introducing readers to an entertainment agency manager with a forbidden otaku friendship with a model. However, instead of taking a more intelligent or realistic approach of the two trying to keep their growing relationship secret or a heroic, "consequences be damned," declaration of love, the story turns sleazy. The model wants to show her naked body off to the manager as the latter admits that she spies on the models while they change. Off-putting is the most generous review of this final chapter.
While Syrup: A Yuri Anthology has a few bright offerings of sweet and compelling relationship between adult women, it is incredibly bogged down by forgettable and mediocre stories. Few stories can present more than a weak premise and characters best described as "female" within their short page count. More objectionable, with a few notable exceptions, Syrup muddles its attempts to show how grown-up Yuri can by mistaking boobs and fanservice for maturity. Yes, Shakaijin stories, tales of adult women can be sexy. In fact, they should be more than willing to describe inelegance and lust; after all, for many people, that is what love is. Still, too often, Syrup forgets the heart, affection, and emotion, substituting them for cheap, uninspired story beats and characters. There are some chapters worth readers' time, but unless you are a hardcore fan of a contributor, this is an easy skip 
Tumblr media
It is challenging to award ratings for Syrup, as each story's merits vary. Some are a comfortable 8 or 9 and others a measly 2 or 3. However, the majority of the book was unobjectionable yet poorly constructed fluff, as respected in the scores below.
Ratings: Story – 5 Characters – 3 Art – 8 LGBTQ – 6 Sexual Content – 8 Final – 5
Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment
Purchase Syrup: A Yuri Anthology Vol. 1 digitally in print: https://amzn.to/39ObT5F
Legally purchasing manga helps support creators and publishers. YuriMother makes a small commission from sales at no additional cost to the consumer.
436 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Now I Am An Arsonist
Chapter 2: The Acrobat
Summary: GLaDOS learns a few things about love, hate, and the human condition.
Tags: Canon typical violence, ChellDOS, human!GLaDOS, found family
A/N: I know technically I published this a while back but I did some major edits to both the chapters I’ve already written and the story as a whole. As promised, I’m re-releasing what I already have with the edits/illustrations. 
She’d awoken slowly, feeling the hard coils of a mattress underneath Her back and a stiff yellow jumpsuit enshrouding Her arms and legs. Long fall boots clung tightly to Her feet, uncomfortably squeezed into the rigid white plastic.
Gradually, She sat up on the neatly-made bed, a rough linen blanket still covering Her lower half. The chamber had been deliberately made to look like a hotel room, complete with a TV in the corner and a nightstand on the side. Something wasn’t right.
It was like living in a distant memory, a dream She’d had but not quite remembered.
A part of Her felt like this was normal, as if She’d woken up here every morning, but another urged Her to look for answers.
GLaDOS searched Her memory, not fully processing the world around Her, puzzled as to why Her thoughts had been slowed tenfold.
Looking down, She saw two pale human arms and two pale human hands. Feeling the top of Her head, She found a mess of dark brown hair which came down to Her shoulders.
           No, this surely wasn’t right.
           Only hours ago, only hours ago, She’d been in control of all of Aperture Science. She’d been invincible, the immortal, all-powerful GLaDOS and now…
           Now, She was this.
           What the hell is going on here?
           There was seldom more awful than to be a human being, to live a short, painful life burdened equally by love and hate. Even on Her worst days, the most She could muster for human beings was a vague sense of pity.
           Yet, here She was, more human than She had been in centuries.
           Oh, you have got to be kidding me.  
           Being Caroline, however brief, was not something She’d ever wished to return to. Emotions were completely incapacitating. There was something to be said for the victory of a test well done, of throwing Wheatley into space where the little moron belonged, of the relief when Chell woke up. But something like guilt? Something like fear? Real, genuine fear?
           As a machine, She could destroy those feelings, suppress them until they were nothing at all. As a human, that task wasn’t so easy.
           Sparks of happiness, moments of joy; none of them were worth the ordeal.
           Even the anticipation of fear made GLaDOS’ chest pound, rapidly breathing in and out as She reflexively clung to the blanket. The last thing She needed was more complicated thoughts about Chell, more bittersweet memories of Cave, more useless sentiments to wring Her bitter heart dry.
           In a very human moment of pure shock, GLaDOS screamed. It was an ugly cry of anger and surprise swirled together, resounding throughout the vault. The echoes echoed off the walls, and the once-powerful GLaDOS cowered with Her head in Her hands.
           The potato was bad enough. The potato brought Her closer to Her own humanity than She’d ever wanted to acknowledge, but barely minutes in GLaDOS could tell that this would be infinitely worse. GLaDOS felt Herself shaking, barely even processing the fact that this hideous amalgamate of skin and bones was now Her body. Now She had hair, She had hands, She had fingers and She had lungs and She had a heartbeat.
           She had a heartbeat. A thudding reminder of Her newfound vulnerability. A symbol of Her weakness.
           GLaDOS did not particularly care to be weak.
           Finally, She understood the meaning of organic in Organic Transplant Procedure. Could they have possibly made it any vaguer?
           Whatever this was, whatever had happened, She had to figure it out. The potato battery, being fed to birds, and dying twice was apparently not enough to satisfy whatever gods lurked in Android Hell. She would spite them once again, return to Her body, and everything would be alright. It had been alright before, so why wouldn’t it be now? At least, this time, She didn’t have Chell and Wheatley working against Her. All She had was Herself and the facility.
           GLaDOS took a deep breath, a sensation She had not felt for hundreds of years. The motion didn’t entirely calm Her nerves, but Her only option was to move forward. Staying here would do nothing to help. The faster She figured something out, the faster She could leave this awful body.
GLaDOS leaned one arm against the peeling wallpaper, trying to balance on Her boots. The heels on the shoes were suspended above the floor, supported by a spring. Shifting Her weight while wearing them, however, was an acquired skill. Gently lifting Her hand from the wall, arms out at Her side, She was stable.
Briefly.
Without warning, the boots gave way, and GLaDOS toppled onto the dusty carpet.
A dull pain filled Her legs, quickly fading as She clung to the wall and rose again slowly. If She wanted to go anywhere, She would have to try again.
           She walked along the side of the wall and felt the way the heels bounced beneath Her, made specifically to take the impact of any fall. Cautiously, GLaDOS let go of the side of the room, miraculously still. She took a careful step forward, preparing for impact, only to see that She was steadier than expected. Still, each step was uneasy, tense and on the cusp of collapsing.
           Walking around the perimeter of the bed, She peered at the little wooden nightstand. One of the drawers had already been pulled out, but the other remained tightly shut. Crouching down, GLaDOS wrenched the second drawer open, finding a small mirror clouded with age. Holding it close to Her face, She examined Her repulsive new features.
           GLaDOS wondered if there was any particular reason why this body looked so similar to Caroline. Most likely, it was an odd coincidence, but She wouldn’t put it past Aperture to clone a body that looked exactly like her own. She appeared to be in Her late thirties, already sporting gray hairs and frown lines. Her eyes, weighed down by bags, were a dull metal gray.
           Robots, unlike humans, were built specifically to look beautiful - gears moving in harmony, painted finish gleaming under the lights of the enrichment center. She was stunning in the way She alone could be, completely alien and yet striking to the eye.
           Humans, on the other hand, were made only to survive. Nature didn’t particularly mind if its final product was an unsightly, hairless primate so long as it could handle the simple job of finding food. Some humans considered certain members of their own species more attractive than others, but GLaDOS found them all equally ugly. Humans, with all their variation, all looked the same when you’d seen enough of them.
           GLaDOS’ real body was a physical manifestation of Her power; She didn’t care that it was pleasing to the eye so long as it conveyed a sense of authority. This new human body, with its small size, its blemishes and imperfections, conveyed the exact opposite. Other humans may have even described Her appearance with words like pretty, soft or even kindly.
           The idea of being seen as anything but imposing was a nightmare.
For Her own sake, GLaDOS didn’t ruminate over Her first impressions any longer.
           Part of the zipper on Her yellow jumpsuit was undone, revealing an implant attached to Her right collarbone. It appeared to be a small, bright yellow core, the source of Her being, woven into Her skin by a cluster of wires.
GLaDOS rezipped it, the yellow light still glowing brightly through the fabric.
           Without a second thought, She placed the mirror back in the drawer and shut it closed, screening the room for an exit. In the front of the room was a wooden door with a rusty brass knob, waiting to be turned ajar. Without hesitation, She followed the path and twisted the handle, the door creaking open without any resistance.
As She entered the hall, GLaDOS was taken aback by the sheer number of chambers, suspended from above and hanging inches away from a more stable platform. Closing the door behind Her and jumping onto the catwalk, She couldn’t help but notice the sense of abandonment that filled the room. It had been centuries since the old Relaxation Center had been brought up to code, and previously there hadn’t been much reason to improve it.
Now GLaDOS wished She’d put in the effort.
The metal catwalk led directly to an old waiting room. Ladderback chairs sat around a central column in the middle, surrounded by coffee tables, a water dispenser and miscellaneous paintings. A flickering Aperture Science logo still shined in the dim gray room, gleaming a ghostly white. Near the back, a faded poster called for test subject applications, apparently endorsed by Cave Johnson himself.
Everywhere She looked, remnants of a dead man’s company made parodies of themselves, untouched for years.
Behind a front desk was a hallway filled with shadows, leading behind the room. With nowhere else to go, GLaDOS stepped into the dark, the light of Her core guiding Her through.
There wasn’t much to see, and for a while, the corridor ran along a single route.
GLaDOS had to come up with a plan.
Somewhere around here there had to be a control room, or at least a place where She could catch a lift back to the Enrichment Center. The thought crossed Her mind that She might have to pass through a testing track, one of Her own meticulously designed traps. It didn’t matter. She’d deal with it when She got to it. 
The hallway was only becoming darker, and the little light on Her shoulder wasn’t nearly bright enough. As far as She could tell, there were no switches along the way. Any lighting was likely controlled by a power station a mile from here.
Something metallic banged against Her foot, and upon examination, GLaDOS discovered it was an empty can of beans. In front of Her, at least three more were lined up in a row. She sighed.
Of course Doug had been here. That man was as ingenious as he was stealthy, and had found his way through every nook and cranny at Aperture. Not even Chell had been able to access some of the places he had.
GLaDOS took it as a good sign. Wherever the path led, it meant someone had been able to survive it.
           Surviving had never exactly been a consideration before. Even when Chell killed Her the first time, She had a feeling there was some kind of safeguard. Humans didn’t have a black box; when they were gone, they were gone. Nothing could bring back a dead human.
           As a potato, GLaDOS had been forced to confront the idea that if Wheatley blew up the facility, that would really be the end. There had been a part of Her almost content that if it was, Chell would be by Her side. Whether it was a vengeful wish, or a side effect of companionship was still unknown.
           Back then, though, She hadn’t really been in control. She’d relied on simple hope that Chell could stop Wheatley before it all went down, not contributing much besides the occasional bit of advice. Now GLaDOS was responsible for Her own fate, fully mobile and fully alone.
           Maybe that was even scarier than standing still.
           After all, She could rely on Chell. Relying on this new human body was another story altogether.  
           The question now was whether any light could be found in this hallway. GLaDOS uncomfortably dropped to her knees, feeling for anything besides the three cans. She grasped at something plastic with a switch on the side. A flashlight.
           Turning it on, the hallway became completely visible. Immediately, GLaDOS was surprised by the sheer number of paintings that covered the white walls.
           Portraits of Chell were splattered from floor to ceiling. Everywhere GLaDOS looked, a woman in an orange jumpsuit stared back at Her, shooting portals and knocking over turrets. Swirls of paint danced from one scene to another, blending each picture into the next. Words were haphazardly scrawled across, some of them poetic and others screaming pure nonsense. Whatever meaning they’d had was lost with Doug.
           A common theme was the companion cube, and one particularly disturbing image replaced their iconic hearts with bleeding human eyes. There was a stark contrast between the idyllic, peaceful depictions of Chell sleeping and the scribbles of scientists running for their lives. GLaDOS could barely make out some of the more manic drawings, but those turned out to be the most horrifying. Tightly clustered loops signified a cloud of neurotoxin. Blotches of red were human remains.
           GLaDOS stood back up, meandering further down the hall. The paintings only devolved from here, intricate detail morphing into vague warnings.
           Don’t trust Her lies.
           The path went on for about another fifteen minutes, twisting and turning at sharp angles. Metal doors led to cluttered offices, all of them sealed and locked. In some of them, the computers were still on, endlessly flickering in the darkness.
           When GLaDOS finally reached the end of the corridor, She was greeted with the sudden activation of a bright white light. Reflexively, She shielded Her eyes as the voice of the announcer blared.
           “Welcome, Aperture Science Testing Associate! You’re here because you’ve voluntarily, or involuntarily, chosen to sign over all your legal rights to Aperture Science and further humanity’s progress!”
           Of course. Being turned into a fleshy mess of tissues wasn’t enough. She’d have to go through the testing track, too.
           She bit her lip in silent rage, no longer blinded by the light, gazing upon an airtight room with little more than a circular door. All around Her was white, covered in portal surfaces. Beneath Her, GLaDOS could feel the electronics of the panels whir, making the whole room seem alive. It could move at any moment.
           “Before we begin, the Enrichment Center would like to remind you that you may suffer terrible injuries caused by our testing devices designed to create terrible injuries. If you have suffered a terrible injury, please review our community-shared legal manual, which states that Aperture Science takes no responsibility.”
           GLaDOS knew that redundant message. It was backup, for when She wasn’t there to narrate. Testing tracks had levels of difficulty, and before Her takeover, it was fairly common for subjects to be screened and assigned one based on what they could handle. This message only played for the most difficult, and consequently, the deadliest. Not even GLaDOS was entirely sure what was in here; She hadn’t used it for fear of subjects dying before any real data could be collected.
           “As part of [HIGH DIFFICULTY] testing protocol, Aperture Science has temporarily issued you your very own Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device.”
           Without warning, a panel on the ceiling lifted, a robotic claw descending and dropping the device directly in front of GLaDOS. The claw lifted, and the panel closed again.
           “The device has been successfully deployed. To ensure the validity of our tests, please verify that your device is completely operational.”
           GLaDOS was familiar with the portal gun from Her databases, and She knew exactly how to work it. Despite this, She’d never actually handled one Herself, unless being impaled on the end of one counted. The device was heavy in Her hands, cold and sleek against Her fingers. The center, black plastic encasing a glowing yellow coil, was warm to the touch.
           Pointing at one of the white panels, She cocked the trigger, and a golden portal blossomed in front of Her. Running Her fingers across the surface, it felt like waving a hand through a ray of sunlight. GLaDOS turned around, shooting the next portal at the opposite wall. The portal which followed was a lighter yellow, less vivid than the first.
           “Good. A signal from the device has proven activation. Please enter the elevator.”
           The metal door opened, and just beyond the emancipation grill, an elevator stood wait. It was the only path left to take.
---
           Putting a cube on a button should’ve been a simple task for a supercomputer. Even for a human, the menial work was a cognitive breeze. The large button in particular required minimal force to operate, and the weighted storage cubes were lighter than they appeared. In any scenario, placing an object on another was easily mastered with only the most basic of motor skills. It could have qualified as the least difficult task known to mankind. All GLaDOS had to do was put one cube on one button.
           That was all there was. One cube, one button, and several killing machines stuffed with thousands of bullets. It was for this reason that GLaDOS could not perform this extraordinarily simple job. The turrets blocking the way would surely be a hurdle.
           Already, GLaDOS could feel the beginnings of human fear creeping into Her mind. She was out of the turrets’ line of sight, and yet the caution of Her new form compelled Her to stay hidden in the corner regardless. Nervously clutching the trigger of Her portal gun, She considered the dangers lurking in future tests. This one was only the first, and it had already deployed one of the worst weapons Aperture had to offer.
           Logically, GLaDOS knew She could step out. She could put one portal behind Her, another at the opposite wall, and avoid the turrets altogether. Behind them would certainly be the cube and the button. Still, emotion was quite a world apart from logic. As a computer, She could be revived over and over again. Humans could not be fixed, and GLaDOS understood that in the very unlikely possibility She died here, She was never coming back.
           GLaDOS didn’t want to admit that She was afraid, not even to Herself. She was sure Chell could tell back when Wheatley was in control; She’d let Her voice slip more than once. Now, with nobody around, She only had Herself to prove it to.
           Removing Her cores all that time ago had also been the removal of Her regulators; She felt everything once they were detached, things She would have to relearn how to suppress. All She remembered before the world went dark, before Chell killed her, what She’d relived, was fear. Panic. Terror. There were a million words for it, none encapsulating just how soul-wrenching the phenomenon was.
           Even then, that’s all it was for Her. Just an emotion. For human beings, fear was a sixth sense. It could be felt in a spiraling heartbeat, in beads of sweat, in shallow breaths and temporary, last-ditch strength. Fear was a state of being, and for the particularly unfortunate, a way of life.
           GLaDOS knew fear only when She had to, only when She could not shove it to the very bottom of Her files. Humans knew fear like they knew living. 
           What a miserable way to be.
           It was all the more reason to complete these chambers faster.
           When She reached the other side of the room, GLaDOS found exactly what She expected. The cube glowed a bright yellow when placed on the Aperture Science Super-Colliding Super Button, and the chamber lock opened.
           As the elevator descended, GLaDOS realized that She had no idea how to solve these tests. She was smart, and the solution would certainly come to Her eventually, but the human mind could only store so much. GLaDOS used to have entire libraries of nothing but solutions to tests, but the upload procedure hadn’t deemed that useful or necessary. When trying to remember, there was nothing. For the first time, GLaDOS’ mind was blank.
           The next test dashed all Her hopes for a few more tutorial puzzles.
           No, GLaDOS reassured Herself. This is alright. I’m used to being challenged.
           After Chell, She was sure any other problem would be easier to solve.
           This particular test was supposed to introduce lasers. The first step was to burn the turrets with the beam, done with the help of portals and crouching behind a corner. The explosions were louder than She’d expected; GLaDOS had seldom heard them outside of watching from a camera. Her ears rung as She crept past the charred remains of the turrets, almost nothing left of the slender white robots. The burn marks brought a smile to Her face; She’d killed them. Even now, She had power over something.
           The turrets were programmed to have some level of sentience, though their sense of self was not nearly as defined as that of a core’s or a human’s. It didn’t matter anyway; they wouldn’t be missed. For every one that was destroyed or made wrong, ten more were created in its place, and the missing turret was simply forgotten. Nobody really made an effort to remember in the first place.
           Humans, too, were often unremembered. She used to be able to look at their files at any time, but why would She want to? She’d seen so many, none particularly worthy of note, and most of them were gone. Even so, in a part of Her that She wanted to deny, GLaDOS almost felt sorry for them. She too had been forgotten for years; nobody had even wanted to wake Her up, to check and see if She was alright. All the robots in the facility knew was that the voice controlling them was gone, and that She wasn’t coming back. 
           The rest of the puzzle was much more challenging than swinging around a laser, involving the use of a redirection cube and multiple steps to obtain it. Another round of turrets was waiting where GLaDOS couldn’t see, launching a bullet directly between Her ribs. Luckily for GLaDOS, the force of each bullet was minimal, and the single hit left only a painful bruise. These turrets were stuffed to the brim with ammunition, part of Cave Johnson’s idea to really give his customers their money’s worth. The unintended side effect was a reduction of firing power.
           Trudging to the elevator, GLaDOS clutched Her side. She’d been knocked out of breath, and the sharp throb of the bruise had faded into a dull ache. It was almost worse that way, grating on Her nerves, flaring up when She took a breath.
           Chell had taken a couple bullets before, some grazing the sides of Her shoulders and most leaving similar small wounds. GLaDOS had to give her credit for continuing to test, holding her head high even when she was bleeding. That didn’t even count sores in her lungs from the neurotoxin, or the damage from falling down the pit. The fact that Chell stayed alive, then went on to test for days, proved her exceptional stamina.
           This one bruise to the rib was occupying nearly all of GLaDOS’ thoughts. She couldn’t fathom the kinds of things Chell felt. The only comparisons She had were the removal of Her head and dying, both of which didn’t last longer than a few minutes. Her pain as a computer had been simulated, but this was real and arguably worse. Chell had likely felt this same sensation a hundred times over, and a hundred times longer.
           You did that to her, you know. A voice clawed from deep within Her mind.
           You gave her all that pain.
           Testing was bad enough, GLaDOS didn’t need the additional burden of guilt. She ignored the voice, though a heaviness still welled in Her chest. Her conscience, the one with Her own voice, was coming back. GLaDOS couldn’t say She missed it.
---
The following tests had proved themselves to be little more than a series of colorful injuries.
Despite Her caution, misfires on behalf of the turrets were inevitable. A stray bullet had bruised Her shin, while another flew past and grazed the side of Her left shoulder. Other little nicks were speckled across Her skin, the products of miscellaneous falls.
Hitting the sides of walls, and even landing with the boots, left GLaDOS’ arms and legs sore. Every step She took was a laborious trudge from panel to panel, and eventually Her fatigue took control.
GLaDOS scanned the level sign on Her right upon entering the test. 15. It hadn’t felt like 15 tests; it’d felt like hundreds had gone by. GLaDOS wasn’t even entirely sure how long it’d been. The adrenal vapor in the air muddled Her perception, and an hour and a minute seemed to be the same.
An educated guess was about four hours, accounting for the rests She’d taken in between. The hard physical activity had already worn down this middle-aged body. The woman was lean, more bony than muscular, and even slight exertion took all the effort She could give. The factor of age didn’t help.
GLaDOS sat down in front of the glowing screen, giving Herself a minute to catch Her breath.
There was a possibility that these tests would go on for thousands of chambers, enough to last years. Equally likely, at the end of the next there might be a scorching pit of flames. That one without any portal surfaces to escape from.
She leaned Her head on the wall, closing Her eyes and letting Her mind wander.
           The chamber was frigid, and the jumpsuit did little to shield GLaDOS from the cold. Arms crossed and knees at Her chest, the heat still escaped Her.
           The thought crossed Her mind that this was how Chell had felt. Was she always this cold, this tired, this desperate? GLaDOS made a mental note to Herself.
           Make the chambers warmer.
           The heat was only a surface-level fix. The claustrophobia induced by the walls, the artificial lights, and the expectation to give it your all or else was maddening.
           Why does it matter to you? GLaDOS asked Herself. Sure, it was bad for Her, but why care about the other subjects? Once She got through this, GLaDOS would never have to feel it again.
           She remembered the time She’d described Her worst imperfection to Atlas and P-Body. Too much sympathy for human suffering.
           Still, Chell would’ve been happier (whatever excuse for happiness that would be) in warmer chambers. Now that She’d gotten attached to one human, She’d felt for them all. It was why She was so hesitant to form a connection in the first place. That would interfere with Her experiments.
           Memories of sparing Chell’s lookalike and saving the life of the man reentered Her mind, and She was embarrassed at the thought of letting Her study careen so far off the rails. Looking back, how much perfectly good science had been ruined? Chell wasn’t even here, and yet She was still wrecking the facility.
           Missing Chell, no maybe not missing so much as becoming used to her presence, was the source of all this mayhem.  The thought of deleting the feeling completely…it was a motivating fantasy. Sentimentality had been, and would be, the death of Her.
           Wisely, GLaDOS stopped Herself from wandering further.
           Don’t think about it. Control yourself.
           The act of caring verged on Caroline behavior. 
           If only to distract Herself, GLaDOS stood up tall and readied Herself for the fifteenth test. Walking deeper in, Her nose caught the scent of acid, stinging as the fumes filled Her lungs.
           GLaDOS sighed.
           She could already tell that this would be a long one.
---
           Cheating was not as good of an idea as it originally seemed.
GLaDOS knew logically, No, you have to do the test, there’s no other way out. When subjects tried to escape, it never ended well for them. Despite past observation, the temptation remained as strong as ever. The walls beckoned Her, waiting to be climbed, an onlooking room in wait. These tests hadn’t been as thoroughly repaired as the others, and sunlight shone through holes in the ceiling. Wreckage from years of decay looked almost like a staircase, or perhaps more like a ladder. Everywhere around Her seemed like an easier path to freedom.
           The main issue was stability; the rusty metal plates couldn’t support Her weight, and trying to climb left Her tumbling down onto the hard floors. No wall ever seemed to have enough traction, and a sprain on Her arm quickly taught GLaDOS that Her ingenious plans were too risky to continue. Even the use of momentum could not propel Her high enough to reach the windows of the room overhead.
           Frustrated and defeated, She solved the test without further incident. Chamber 25 was waiting up ahead, and the sunlight from above shone with evening hues. To Her own disbelief, all of this testing had amounted to only a single day.
           After the long, arduous completion of 25 had wracked both Her body and mind, GLaDOS found welcome relief. She almost couldn’t believe the fact that the chambers had ended so… safely. The door opened, and there were no death traps or pits of fire waiting for Her. It only led into a waiting room with a faded Thank You sign on the wall. GLaDOS smiled, satisfied with Her victory. Shortcomings aside, the fact that this measly human body had managed to endure so much was something She was proud of.
           That had been Her work, Her survival, not just testing by proxy.
           The waiting room She stood in was eerily similar to the last, furnished with the same kind of chair and plastered with similar advertisements. Unlike the last one, two exits waited in front of Her. One was for test subjects, boarded up with wood nailed to the door, completely inaccessible. The other was a flight of stairs leading upward, blocked off with a chained sign reading Employees Only.
           GLaDOS lifted the chain over Her head and took the staircase, no other option available. Nervously, She hoped that anything but another testing track was up ahead, only to find exactly what She needed. Her luck had been improving; a control room was only a step away. A panel of countless switches was adhered to the pale blue walls, adjacent to a desk with pens, paper, and a noisy radio. The same jazzy tune played on loop until She switched it off, content with the silence.
           It’s finally over.
           She sat down at the office chair in front of the control panel, scanning it for the words lift or escape pod. Dials and switches cluttered the board, labeled with miniscule text that was near impossible to read. GLaDOS scorned Her human eyesight, searching desperately, but finding nothing. The buttons only controlled elements of the test chambers, which panels to open, which cubes to drop.
           She reread it, knowing that surely She’d missed something. Again and again, She screened the switchboard, yielding nothing.
           GLaDOS had to have overlooked a button, misread a label. Nothing was hidden behind the desk, and no other devices had been plugged into the socket on the wall. The realization that She could be trapped here, here of all places, sank low into Her chest. After everything, after all of the testing and the pain and the feelings, it had all amounted to this.
           “Oh my god. Oh my god. That’s not possible!”
           All the panic She’d suppressed was finally let loose, Her human mind no longer able to contain the fear She’d been anticipating.
           I might die here. That’s it. I might never get back in my mainframe, and I might spend my last hours stuck in this human being.
           I’m going to be alone.
           Alone.
           She lingered on that sentence, anxiously pacing around the desk, nervously clawing through Her hair.
           I am going to be very, very alone.
           GLaDOS had always wanted to spend Her entire, immortal life alone. No friends, no family to weigh Her down, to distract Her from purpose. Cave had put it best; Caroline was married to science, and that had carried over to GLaDOS.
           Machines didn’t need companionship, but depriving a human being of social contact was like denying them water. Whatever human need for friendship still existed in this woman’s body was bubbling up, broken by the sheer loneliness of the tests.
           She often wondered why subjects had such a difficult time euthanizing their faithful companion cube. Unless rare incidents of stabbing threats counted, the companion cube had not once spoken to them, never shown any kind of personality or attachment. They were sentient enough, like most Aperture products, but their only real difference from a storage cube was their little heart decal. A mere design change had been enough to exploit human compassion, and it was fascinating to behold.
           A part of Her now understood why it was so easy to believe that an inanimate object could be a friend. GLaDOS’ human component ached for any sort of company, any kind of reassurance. Even an enemy would be nice. An enemy would be better, maybe even preferred.
           Just someone to talk to, even if that conversation was just a tirade of insults on Her part.
                      GLaDOS gave up; nobody was here, and nobody was waiting for Her. The future looked lonely, and in desperation, She gave the control panel one last glance. A button that She’d seen before caught Her eye, one She hadn’t fully considered the first time.
           Core Sentience Connector.
           With nothing to lose, She pressed the button, and a whirring erupted from a panel downstairs. GLaDOS rushed back to the waiting room, portal gun in Her hands, and watched the walls open like magic. In its place was a metal contraption, holding the empty shell of a personality core with a flickering screen above it. The Aperture Logo flashed onto the newly implemented monitor, while the announcer blared from an invisible speaker.
           “Hello, and thank you for activating the Aperture Science Personality Core Sentience Connector Protocol! If you have selected this feature, congratulations. A subject under your supervision has been experiencing difficulties testing due to prolonged exposure to severe social deprivation.”
           GLaDOS wondered what other insane scenarios they’d thought of as the screen switched to a moving blueprint of a personality sphere.
           “All Aperture Science Personality Constructs are made with the intended purpose of solving this problem, providing companionship to those in crisis. Personality Constructs with an active distress signal can be summoned with the connector protocol. A list of available constructs is provided on the screen.”
           Walking closer to the device, GLaDOS saw only one serial number listed. Personality cores all had radio capability, and the signal of their very being could be transmitted in times of emergency. Once the signal was received, that could easily be implemented into any compatible device.
           GLaDOS hesitated before selecting the number. She doubted that the little moron had the capacity to activate a distress signal, and if he did, it was highly unlikely that the signal could bounce all the way back to Earth. Still, the possibility that this core could be Wheatley was something She did not want to risk. Although psychologically destroying him would be a good use of Her time, being in a position of power would make Her revenge all the more satisfying.
           The last thing She wanted was for him to see Her weak again, but the only other option was to remain trapped. At the very least, if they were stuck here forever, She could use the last of Her human strength to make Wheatley’s tiny, moronic life as miserable as possible. In the off chance he could open a panel, She’d use him to escape and leave him behind. Preferably, in the incinerator.
           Survival was worth the temporary burden of dealing with Wheatley, especially if it meant another thousand years doing nothing but testing. GLaDOS tapped the number, an electric chime sounding from the machine as the connector activated. Within thirty seconds, the core’s eye opened, gleaming a bright blue.
---
           “If you were, let’s say, a brain damaged woman who was betrayed by her only friend, what would it take for you to forgive the bloke who tried to murder you? It’s just theoretical, just, you know, coming up with hypotheticals to pass the time.”
           “Space. Space is nice. Rocket ship. Rocket ship goes to space. Space goes to space. Space is in space.”
           “Alright mate, thanks for the input. Very useful.”
           Wheatley sighed, his optic focused on the same group of stars he’d watched for the past couple of hours, his mind wrapped up in the past.
           Four months had been a good amount of time to relive his mistakes over and over, micro analyzing every transgression against Chell. His life was now a series of unpleasant memories, or pleasant ones turned painful by context, interrupted with by chatter of the space core and the light of the sun.
           Fantasies, in which he apologized for his mistakes and Chell forgave him, were far too frequent. He’d say sorry, deliver a whole monologue four months in the making, and She’d pick him up and smile at him. They would be friends again, and Wheatley would never return to Aperture. GLaDOS would be gone, out of sight forever, and they could be happy. He could be happy.
           Not that Wheatley particularly thought he deserved it. By most human standards of morality, trying to kill someone was considered an irredeemable offense. Empathizing with Chell’s fear, Chell’s heartbreak had been impossible with the mainframe distorting his thoughts. All of the sympathy he could not feel then was coming back now, transformed into guilt.
           If you hadn’t acted like a monster, if you hadn’t been so awful, if you hadn’t been such a moron...
           He knew that realistically, Chell would never pardon him. Even that was given the unlikely event they’d met again.
           Wheatley wondered if he would ever get a second chance, ever get the opportunity to show that no, he wasn’t a moron and all that villainy had been just a fluke. He only needed a chance, just one.
           Hell, if GLaDOS got an opportunity for redemption, why couldn’t he?
           Wheatley closed his optic, feeling the cold of space against his metal casing.
           One chance. That’s all I need.
           For a moment, there was only the silence of the cosmos.
           Without warning, his processors hummed with a fever pitch, and his thoughts raced until they melted into nonsense. A loud beeping resonated from inside, and through the chaos, Wheatley could discern a single error message.
           Sentience Connector Protocol Initiated. Prepare for the brief suspension of your consciousness.
           What in the bloody hell-
           Wheatley screamed in surprise, his cry cut off halfway through.
           The space core hardly noticed that his companion had been zapped away, content with watching the surface of the moon below. The stars shone bright as ever.
---
           “Oh, oh my god, I’m alive! I…” Wheatley’s voice trailed off as he awakened to the dim walls of Aperture, facing a brown-haired, tired-looking woman. A yellow light glowed through Her jumpsuit, and a suspicious grin was spread across Her face. Wheatley had never seen this person before, but the moment She spoke, he knew exactly who She was.
           “Well, there you are.”
     She was back.
78 notes · View notes