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midigated · 3 years

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Another rant? You didn't ask for it? Ok. Shut up.

Once again, seeing the sailor moon discourse on my followed tags feed and I am, once again, rolling my eyes at the hatred for the anime. Like yeah, there are good critiques out there, but there's a fine line between being critical and just showing one's bias against a piece of media. It's like I'm reading a shitty screenrant or cbr article. And it's dumb.

I feel like reading this answer from Megumi Ogata is exciting and pretty cool. I'm pretty sure she's talking about Ikuhara. I wouldn't be surprised if he had to downplay a lot of shit for him and Yoji to get away with a lot more (a part of a director's job has to answer to executives/producers).

Also, like, I don't know if anyone's ever taken a film class before, but, uh, a director's job is to establish motivation for their actors. To give them an IDEA/CONCEPT/MOTIVATION for why actors read certain characters in a specific way. Also, it ensures that the actors have excellent chemistry together (and they do, and it's iconic). When I read this, I saw that because THAT'S WHAT A DIRECTOR DOES. He doesn't know their backgrounds or political ideologies - one has to make due and explain, 'this is how I want these characters to BEHAVE' it's not an indicator of anything else beyond that. He had to explain in a way both actors could understand. If the way they know is via their relationships w/ their spouses, THEN SO BE IT. It's a pretty neutral thing, and reading other interpretations of this sounds like one does not have an understanding of what goes on with live media beyond 'actors read lines and lines go brrrrrrrrrrrrrr.'

Also, either way, Megumi acknowledges the characters as a couple, so that's cool also. A famous gay district in Japan lost their shit (in a good way) about how favorable her portrayal of a gay character was.

She's not wrong about the religion thing. Speaking as an American, Christianity colors our society in the worst way. (Please don't bother w/ the apologetics. It's dull, and the narrative of Christians being oppressed is wrong when systemically they are favored over other religions and marginalized groups in this country.)

She does not deny that she voiced a gay character.

I'm sure Ikuhara wouldn't deny that either.

Hell, that guy and Yoji brought us Utena, aka their collab Sailor Moon Harumichi AU dueling rococo surrealist fanfic to life. A big part of it was due to Ikuhara getting tired of the restrictions by Toei from what he wanted to do.

(I also hold the weird and wildly unprovable theory that the reason why SuperS sucked so much was due to Ikuhara treating it as a big fuck you. 'Like fine, we'll do it your way but don't be surprised if it sucks.' Because look what happened with Stars. I rest my case.)

The series grew up with their audience. Evident by each storyline gaining a darker tone. There are the familiar beats of MotW, The Big Bad, and World Saving Shenanigans. It's not so far off from what A LOT of shows did and still do. Look at Buffy. It was heralded as a fantastic well-written show, that grew up w/its audience, but still had the same beats - MotW, The Big Bads, and World Saving Shenanigans.

(Note: this is just an objective statement about an old US show. Like, don't come at me w/ 'well Joss Whedon BAD ACTUALLY' because I know, and I agree. He's a POS. It sucks that his assholerly had tainted my love for a show that also helped me w/ coming out when I was a teen (it's on the same level as the 90s anime of sailor moon, too, for helping me come out.). Also, the post-show comics sucked ding dong, and y'all know I'm right about that. After all these years, I'm still mad over Tara getting killed off.)

Then it came crashing to a halt when the higher-ups wanted the show to go back to being fun and fancy-free... And focused on Chibiusa, which no one liked.

(that is a huge reason I prefer the dreams arc in the manga way more, it's overall better in every way vs. SuperS. Also, it was Naoko's turn to flex her Junji Ito skills and well. Thanks for having a hand at creating nightmare fuel for my childhood! It's not like child me needed the sleep anyway!)

I'm also a little more sympathetic w/ the 90s anime and manga. Most of that comes from reading/watching about the production schedule AND the output of the manga. Like damn, that was a looooot of crunch for everyone. The anime had to run w/ somethings / allow Naoko to finish her chapters// make new shit in the meant time if they needed to / adapt to other changes, while the manga just had * to try* and stay timely. Both pieces are challenging in their ways. One person working solo (with maybe a few assistants) is difficult, as is working with an entire cast and crew. They both have different challenges to work through.

And with regards to my sympathy for the manga and anime... It's the same way I feel about Berserk. Like, I'm glad the 90s anime and the trilogy movies exist, but damn, imagine if they kept going w/ the 90s anime after the Golden Age when one considers Miura's output of chapters? ESPECIALLY DURING THE BOAT STRUGGLE. THE. BOAT. STRUGGLE.

I remember I paused reading berserk back in 2010. I came back about 3/4 years ago, and my reaction was, 'oh wow, they finally got off the boat, good for them.'

No. I will not talk about the later berserk anime bc... Well. Look. No matter how much ppl complained about Sailor Moon Crystal or Dragon Ball Super and their wonky animation and re-draws. The New Berserk anime still looks like garbage. It's still awkward. It's still painful. Can't polish that turd.

At least Super and Crystal look better in recent years.

Anyway, thanks for coming to my stupid and all over the place Ted talk. My ADHD medication ran out, so this is what you all get.

#its an AU that takes LOTS of liberties #like which is haruka? which one is michiru? depends on the episode i guess lol #its a joke so chill #im just watching from the sidelines like wow #ppl really hate shit #look kentaro miura has often said that he takes from both shojo and shonen manga for his inspo and we love to see it #nice boat #oh wow an excuse to talk about berserk who saw that coming #still sad over Kentaro Miura's passing. he was a brilliant artist and his work got me thru tough times.#honestly my capacity of giving a shit is severely low #like idc if you disagree w/ me ok cool good for you #adventure time is an accurate and great show that grew up with its audience AND kept doing it even after the show ended w/ distant lands #also the bury your gays trope was subverted in sailor moon BECAUSE THEY CAME BACK. even the 2nd time.#dont pretend im wrong.#harumichi #haruka tenoh #time to muddy up the waters and poison the well bc its not like the well isnt poisoned already #i legit dont care if anyone reads this or disagree but damn like try to understand how things are made too

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mageicalwishes · 3 years

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Read on AO3: Here

Rating: Teen And Up

Summary: My interpretation of "I was a 15-year-old closet case whose parents pretended they didn’t notice when the family dog disappeared".

"A shallow grave. So much less than she deserves. But … I can’t breathe. I can’t even think. I’m running on autopilot and adrenaline alone. Everything is just - I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how I got here. I'm losing control. I can't - I can't even look at her. She's still wrapped in my sheets. I can see her bleeding. I still want it. I still want more.

Carry On Countdown, Day 7 - Animal @carryon-countdown

Key Info: Inspired by this artwork by one of my fave artists on here @cynopoe

TW: Slight Emetophobia Warning!! (Non Graphic. Final line of first paragraph, feel free to skip if you're concerned!) & Hemophobia Warning!! (This is a very Vampire-heavy fic, so unfortunately there is frequent mention of blood). I have both these phobias (Lol RIP me) and faint when I see them IRL, but this was fine for me to write so I don't think it should be anything too major. However, everyone's phobias are different so I wanted to give a heads up. Please be aware of these warnings before reading, and feel free to skip over this if it's not for you!

Tags: Heavy Angst, Angst, Biting, Blood Drinking, Mild Blood, Pain, Mordelia Trying To Be A Nice Sister, Baz’s Dog, BASICALLY I’M REALLY SORRY FOR THIS IDK WHAT DEMON MADE ME WRITE THIS, Big Sad, Carry On Countdown 2020 Day 7

Words: 1,116

Baz

A shallow grave. So much less than she deserves. But … I can’t breathe. I can’t even think. I’m running on autopilot and adrenaline alone. Everything is just - I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know how I got here. I'm losing control. I can't - I can't even look at her. She's still wrapped in my sheets. I can see her bleeding. I still want it. I still want more. My hands - I’m trying to dig but they won’t stop shaking. My stomach is churning, sick with the guilt, I have to - I stop and heave once more, the remnants of my crime splattering grimly on the dampened soil. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt her.

The Change had started a week or so after I returned home from Watford. At first, it was nothing more than a minor irritant - A stinging in the sun, a bone-deep chill. But … it worsened.

First, came the dryness of my throat. That unceasing thirst no amount of water could quench. And then, came the mind-clouding obsession. My every thought consumed by blood. The steady slog of it through my family’s vessels so distracting that I couldn’t so much as look at them - The people that I loved - without that incessant need to take. Their blood. Their life. Their everything.

It wasn’t me, not really, but I couldn’t stop it - Couldn’t fight it. Frozen, weak and powerless, my humanity withering away before me as the monster took it’s hold. I didn’t know what to do - Didn’t know who to go to - and so … I hid.

I thought that if I locked myself away and waited for the initial thirst to subside, that everyone would be safe. That I’d make it through without hurting anybody - Without losing myself.

I didn’t know much about Vampirism, but I’d been assured that the effects were at their worst on initial onset. If I endured, it would become more manageable. If I bared it, I could live with it. I’d pinned all of my hopes on that promise, but it had let me down.

Father had a key to my door - An emergency plan. If I needed it, he could lock me in. But I didn’t, I had it under control. I thought that I was alright. That I could make it. No matter how hazy or desperate I became, how thirsty I was, they were safe. Everyone was safe. And then … Mordelia tried to be kind.

She couldn’t have realised what she was doing. She didn’t know (None of the children did). She just didn’t want me to be lonely anymore. And so … she let Dotty in.

I tried to get her away from me, tried to get her out of my room. But she thought I was playing, so she just kept running and jumping up at me, tennis ball held happily in her mouth. She was so warm, and I was so weak. All I could see, and think, and feel, and hear was her - Every breath she took, every maddening thump of her heart. I couldn’t escape it. I’d craved it for so long, and here it was, trapped in a room with me. I didn’t - I didn’t mean to do it. I don’t know what happened. One second I was shoving her away from me, and the next, I’d done it. I’d bitten her.

I’ll never be able to escape the echo of her cries. How she whimpered beneath me, high pitched and betrayed. The fragment of me that remained, screaming, begging it to stop, to just let her go, overpowered by the darkness. By the need.

I couldn’t let go. I just kept biting and biting and biting, pushing my jaw harder against her flesh. Blood suffocating me with every move, tacky under my nails and dripping from the lengths of my hair. I didn’t even care. I couldn’t care. Finally … I was satiated.

And so … Here I am. Slathered in mud and crimson, desperately trying to bury my beloved dog in the shallow pit I’ve scraped out of the ground. Trying to forget it. Trying to pretend that this is some sick, perverted nightmare - That I’ll wake up and be me again. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, not whoever did this. Not whatever did this. I cant - I won’t - I don’t …

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

When I make it back to the house, the sun is hanging fire in the sky.

I don’t know how long it has been since I took her - 4 hours? 5? How many moments have I had to bear it so far? My mind is clearer now, but I’m still lost. It wasn’t me, it was … I don’t know.

Daphne screams when she sees me, and Father comes racing down the stairs in a panic. I didn’t think about them being awake. I should’ve just waited. I should’ve just stayed hidden. I should’ve just stayed gone. But it’s too late now. He’s pushing her behind his body, shielding her with his presence. Protecting her from me. I can see the realisation dawn on his face as he takes me in - My unmistakably bloodied figure, her yellow-spotted collar still clutched in my muddied hands. Disgust. That’s what I see. Pure, unrelenting disgust at what I’ve done - What I’ve become.

“Mother, Father, I didn’t - I didn’t mean to. Please, you have to believe me," I’m sobbing, chest rattling as I try to explain - Try to somehow absolve myself of their justified hatred. It’s sick. A truly disturbed little performance. But, they have to know. They mustn't think … “I wouldn’t hurt you - I wouldn’t hurt anybody - Anything. It was an accident. I tried to undo it. I tried to heal her, but my magic wouldn’t come, I was too … I didn’t have enough in me. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t-”

With a lift of his hand, he silences me. “Go and clean yourself up, Basilton,” he says, voice flat and hollow. “We’ll deal with this later.”

We won’t talk about it, I know. We’ll act like it never happened. But it did. And I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on pretending anymore.

Later, as I was scrubbing the shame from my body - Watching the whole diabolic night swirl down the plug, as I scoured my tainted skin raw. The reek of Copper and Dirt, poorly masked with lashings of Cedar and Bergamot - I heard the unmistakable locking of my door. A vicious creature finally confined to it’s cell. That final, damning confirmation. My own family - Scared of me. They can’t even trust me not to hurt them anymore (And neither can I). Not like this. Not with what I’ve become. One of them. Crowley, Mother would be so disappointed in me.

#carry on #carry on countdown #coc 2020 #my writing #my fic #co/ws #baz pitch #IM SORRYYYYYYYY

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