#But again Eugene you were in the fucking military

[punkahudsonia]

[staring into the darkness above my bed at 2am] okay I get that Kirk calls Spock "Mr. Spock" because a senior officer uses that to address a junior in Navy tradition but why does everybody else on the goddamn ship including people he outranks call him Mister as well. Is the Enterprise subtly full of people who are dissing this man at every opportunity and if so why has nobody gotten called out. I mean obviously Janeway makes the crack about preferring "Captain" to "Mister" but we surely cannot assume she actually thought an entire starship of crew was going to call their most senior commanding officer "Mister" right??? Also it's the 24th goddamn century and at least one Federation species reproduces by asexual budding so why the fuck are we still using gendered terms of respect to address officers anyway. In this essay I will . . .

[hiro--aoki]

i got tell ur girlfriend for the wheel thing. can you do rosita x fem reader for that song 🫶🏻

Tell Ur Boyfriend – Rosita Espinosa

Rosita Espinosa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Suggestive, sub!Rosita, toxic!reader, manipulation

A/n: YIPPEE my first spin wheel request AND it’s for Rosita!!! <3       >:3 (should I make a part 2?) Drops this here and leaves again

Taglist: @kookiekult

You had been travelling with Eugene, Rosita and Abraham for a few weeks now. The goal of this supposed ‘life-changing’ journey had started to bore you. You thrived on the thrill of adrenaline, and honestly the most exciting things had happened is the occasional pit stop and a few walkers.

You and Eugene were on the back of the truck, probably because Abraham didn’t want him inside with Rosita. You still don’t understand how a big brute like him could pull a 10/10 like her. The thought of them alone together made your grip on your rifle tighten.

“I’ve noticed a negative change in your behaviour.” Eugene says, like notifications on your own emotions, he is.

You want to punch him right there. Even if it’s not his fault that you can hear Abraham telling one of his stupid dick jokes, and Rosita letting out the occasional laugh. You could make her laugh harder; you could make her happier in every way.

“I’m fine.” You grumble to Eugene.

He opens his mouth to object, but you interrupt him, “I swear, if you say another thing before we get to D.C., I’m going to shove my rifle down your throat.”

He looks down. Pathetic. Sometimes you wonder how he’s the one to know the cure.

As it starts to get dark, you lean over the side of the military vehicle and bang on Abraham’s window.

“Oi! Dickhead! There’s a motel up ahead. We should stay the night.”

“No, we’re already behind schedule.”

“Fucking schedule,” you scoff. “Didn’t know you still followed those, army boy.”

He scowls, “I don’t,” is mumbled under his breathe as he pulls into the motel.

You grab your duffel bag and jump over the side of the vehicle, not even waiting for them to go inside. It seems clear, not many walkers at all. You find a decent room and throw your bag on the crusty mattress. At least it’s not a truck bed.

 You hear Abraham say something about going hunting with Eugene. He’d probably get Eugene to find fungi or nuts or some boy scout shit like that. That leaves Rosita and you, alone. Perfect.

You leave your makeshift room, closing the door. You walk across the decaying balcony, to Rosita’s room, knocking on her door.

The door creaks open, and you see her standing there.

“Don’t think we should be alone in a place like this, and the boys are out.” You shrug and welcome yourself into her room.

You groan internally when you see Abrham’s bag on the ground next to hers. Rosita closes the door behind you, use to your behaviour by now.

“I know this isn’t just about safety, it’s never just about safety with you.” She says, leaning against the decaying wall.

“You know me so well, Rosi.” You smile, turning to her.

“I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not gonna work.”

“It will, you know it will.”

“Not this time.”

“You cheat once, Rosi, and you’re bound to do it again.” You fold your arms with a chuckle.

Her face flushes, “It was just a kiss, nothing more.”

“You wish it was.”

You stride back across the room to her, standing in nt of the beautiful woman you’ve had your eyes on plenty of weeks.

“Just admit it, you like it when we go behind Abraham’s back.” You say, lowering your voice.

She avoids eye contact. Hook, line and sinker.

“Come on baby, keep those pretty eyes on me.” Your voice sweet as honey, as you lift her chin with your hand.

“If you want me to stop, just say so.” She stays silent.

“Thought so.”

You run your thumb along her bottom lip, and you can feel her breathe quicken.

“Now just use your words and say you want me.”

Her face flushes even more, “I … I want you.”

“Not Abraham?”

“…not Abraham.”

The words barely leave her mouth before yours are on hers. Rosita practically melts into the kiss, letting her defence down for the first time in a while. You pull away, her eyes looking up at you with a pleading look.

“It’s getting dark, the boys will be back soon.” You pull your hand away from her red cheek.

But she grabs your wrist, “I don’t care.”

A smirk forms on your face, “You sure, Rosi?”

She nods.

“On one condition.” You pull her close once more and whisper in her ear, “Tell your boyfriend, that I’m your girlfriend.”

You go home later that night, leaving a flustered mess of Rosita for Abraham to find.

Part Two // Part Three || Masterlist

[il3x]

(spoilers for reboot s2, but not the endgame!)

thinking about the reboot cloning plot again and you know I love a clone plot, but the fact that This Specific clone plot is presented as a neutral to positive thing kinda rubs me the wrong way. I think there should be more exploration of how fucked up it was.

Like... Seb decides, without consulting most of his teammates, that the best-slash-only way for Pr0 to escape his pursuers is to die. He does not ask Pr0 about this plan, he does not tell Pr0 about this plan. He just straight up Murders Him. That's already a pretty big violation, and it's done to a character whose arc is about escaping control and abuse.

THEN, when Pr0's cloned, Seb just... decides, again, Without Any Input, that what would be best for Pr0 is to have his memories edited to process/heal his trauma. Better than just deleting it entirely, I guess, but it's kinda iffy that 1. in rebootworld there is apparently A Singular Point Of Healing after which trauma doesn't bother you any more and 2. you can get to that point precisely via invasive surgery/genetic reprogramming adn. 3. this is a kind and good thing to do to (to!!! he's not doing it FOR Pr0! pr0's fucking dead! Seb killed him!!) your friend who Has Been Controlled Posessed And Moulded For Most Of His Life. not to mention that Seb, iirc, specifically words it as like. hey can you make him more useful to us. Kinda fucked up innit

also they straight up inject 4 years of simulated military service into pr0's mind and like That's also kinda fucked up eh. What if that also gives him trauma. What if pr0 was anti-war and would never have wanted those memories and the resulting alterations to his personality. He might've been, man, we don't know. because again Sebastian Killed Him.

anyways pr0 is explicitly a new person (without any of those pesky coping mechanisms that annoyed his teammates, yippee!! /sarcastic) now, and again. like. this Could Have Been Good. if it was treated as "yo that was kinda fucked up". but no. Peter/clone-Pr0 is totally chill with it. Even Xiang, who explicitly believes that peter/clone-pr0 is a separate person and original pr0 is dead, is totally chill with it. She's still dating Seb. Y'know. The guy who murdered your friend/apprentice in front of you.

And for some more fun (worrying) context, Seb is, at this point, Actively Preparing his plan for global eugenics to... forcibly sterilise all mean people, I guess?? I don't actually recall the details. But he is all too happy about making unilateral decisions on who deserves to live.

(His global eugenics plan which he would've gone through with if his gf hadn't talked him out of it, to be clear! His gf Xiang who is disabled and presumably Asian, and therefore probably has a vested interest in Not Doing Eugenics, and this still doesn't impact her opinion of Seb very much. Xiang deserved better, I'm sorry. I love everything about her except her taste in men.)

Oh, and for Further Context, the guy who offers to adjust Pr0's mind and actually makes the adjustments (and takes it upon himself to age Pr0 up four years physically) legally owns Pr0. Just in case you're wondering if it's really that fucked up to make non-consensual mind and body modifications to a human trafficking survivor whose previous non consensual body modifications were explicitly done by his captors as a form of abuse. Y'know.

Oh, fuck, and now I'm realising that said previous modifications (cybernetics, experimental drugs, etc - they're mentioned in ep1) were for the purpose of making him a better weapon. And in-universe, the necessity of giving Jazza's character some more combat levels comes through as Seb going "hey, dad, could you make him a better weapon". clears throat. Fucked Up innit.)

AND the only team member Seb consults about killing and rebooting Pr0 in the first place is Incongruent, iirc, who is also the only other main character with a "replace all humans with a better race [robots]" plan. Also worth noting that when Incongruent, a member of an oppressed class directly reacting to his oppression, wants to replace all humans, it's kinda fucked up and part of the dystopia and the other characters don't like it very much and Incongruent changes his mind of his own accord, but when Seb and his mom, members of the ruling class, want to replace humanity, it's hand-waved as an "oh well" dropped plot thread despite that having Even More potential to be a load-bearing piece of worldbuilding w/r/t "this is a fucked up dystopia".

I do get why this happened on a meta level - Jazza needed to reboot (heh) his character build. And in-universe, it kinda works, it has some fun parts. In isolation I really like how chill Peter is about being a clone. Icon behaviour. I also get that Seb is reacting to his own horrific trauma. But just. Y'know. I didn't like Seb in this arc very much, and I wish the narrative had acknowledged that more.

[fayythe]

Divine Love: Chapter Four

Henry Cavil X OFC

Summary: Rhylan Daines property of the United States Government, the training she took on, the beating, and pain was all manipulating her to loose her body autonomy, they tell her to eat a certain way, talk, walk, act. Nothing is hers, how can she escape the torture her life has become? Now an semi-active black ops Navy Seal working for the CIA struggled to make peace with her past.  She was always told that every life she took, every person she tortured, and every soul she crushed was for the greater good, but how is more violence supposed to help the world?  How can acting help her stop being forced to kill? How can finding love help her find herself? Only time will tell... Tigger Warnings: Slight Alcoholism, Assault, Kidnapping, Blood, Skin Branding, Heavy Depression, Drugs, Undiagnosed eating disorder, Forced Eugenics, Talk of Genocide, talk of war, talk of gore, Hospitalizations for medical reasons, Mental Health issues, Hitman/murder unrecognized by law, Profanity, Military Brutality, torture, terrorism, violence, scars, seizures.

Rhylan's Tattoos

Rhylan's Body Scars Diagram

“You never know how strong you are…until being strong is the only choice you have” – Cayla Mills

Chapter 4: боль

Боль….Russian….--Pain

It was when my finger was on the trigger of long sniper rifle, and my eyes connected to piercing blues way down the scope I couldn’t seem to get out of my head since that night. No…. This is all wrong. I looked around, the concrete skyscraper I was on was unfamiliar. Only then did all the memories come back, Dean Douche, the gun shot, the attack…the kidnapping. My eyes started to water, this is what my life has come to, being kidnapped to kill people.

I looked down the scope again, seeing him…the one I wanted so badly, but knew I could never have. Why am I here? Shouldn’t be the mission be someone else? What happened to the person of high authority I was supposed to take out…or was this the mission to begin with?

“Sights on the target?” Just then Wades rustic, tired, and drained voice rang in my ear.

Shaking my head, I press the receiver that was jammed in my ear so far. “What are you talking about? This isn’t the mission.” I shook my head franticly, I refuse to do this, kill the only person I’ve ever had feelings for… the only person I ever loved. 

            “Rhylan Daines, you’ve been appointed a mission. Now do it before I do it myself when I must do it won’t be painless.”

He was frustrated, and even in the beginning when I first met Wade, when he was frustrated, it was best to just do what he says before things get messy.

I perched the rifle back up on the edge of the building slowly but surely lining my sights, the tear I was holding on to finally rolled don’t my cheek, the only way I could make it easy for him, make it painless, just one shot to the head he won’t even see it coming.

            “Count to three then take the shot.” Wades voice chimed.

No, no, no, this is all wrong.

One.

I can’t do this, I’ve worked so hard to change and separate myself, my life from these acts of terror I’ve been forced to commit.

Two.

I couldn’t help the flow of tears escaping my eyes, something I wasn’t used to feeling. Feeling emotions, I was trained to not feel…everything is coming back, my entire training is breaking.

Three.

I pulled the trigger.

--

            It was just my then eyes shot open, and the piercing sound of a gunshot still filled my ears, I originally expected to be in D.C still chained, but the warmth and comfort of my silk sheets made my entire body numb.

I started to take mental notes of how my body was feeling.

My head was slightly fuzzy, but no concussion—hopefully.

Noticing that my arms were sore, I clinched my fits wincing, every scab on every knuckle breaking back open and starting to bleed. Fucking hell.

My chest was bruised no doubt seeing out hard it was to breath.

Moving farther down—the feeling of pain flooded my entire body, not only do I feel the familiar feeling of whip marks, but many fractured ribs.

Whipping was Dicks punishment, a common one for myself as I tended to not follow directions, but now that I left the cult he had formed and started a different life, he has to get off his ass and fish for what he believes is rightfully his, no doubt causing the lacerations he caused on my back to be worse than usual.

I tried to pick through the memories I had of my time away, and the few I did have weren’t significant and I couldn’t remember much of it at all. It was almost like I was in a daze, robotically doing what I was told to get it over with and go back home.

But because I couldn’t even remember how I got home, the only explanation there is that Sargent Douche dropped me off, how kind. The monster does have a slight beating heart.

I started feeling my legs around under the sheets stopping at warm heavy block, stopping my foot from going any further.

Luther. I tried to sit up only to groan in pain, so instead I tried to speak, “Lue” My voice came out barely above a whisper, but Luther still managed to hear it peaking his head up immediately and wagging his tail. His coat was back to white, He had a banged wrapped around his right paw, but otherwise the dog acted like nothing had happened to him. He let out a whine looking at me still wagging his tail, he was worried about me, not about himself.

“I’m okay buddy, come here.” I opened my arms.

Luther didn’t take any time to crawl into my arms lightly wresting his head on my bruised chest, “I’m okay buddy” I spoke again, this time my voice getting a bit stronger.

I started petting Luther, thinking about the dream I had, not only was it strange for me to sleep, but in this case because of how badly my body was bruised it made since, I haven’t dreamed in years, and to have my first dream in nearly twelve years to be about…him…. things just aren’t making since to me.

“Arthur, are you still there?” I nearly had an aneurysm trying to speak loud enough so he could hear me.

“Ms. Daines, I’m glad you are okay, I have been monitoring your vitals closely.” Arthur’s voice chimed throughout my bedroom.

I let out a sigh of relief, all my hard work and years of coding and making Gideons program the best of the best isn’t down the drain.

“Thank god, what day is it, how long have I been gone?” I questioned, even though I could’ve just looked at the alarm clock on the end table next to my bed.

“The date is December 30th, you were abducted on the 20th of this month, and was brought back by an Ethan Thorne on December 28th.” Arthur’s voice was as robotic as always, but the things he stated were crazy. I was out for two days. I couldn’t believe it. Not to mention, Ethan was the one to bring me home, not DickFuck Dean, should I even be surprised? Ethan always had a soft spot for me anyway.

“Wow…okay. Give me the rundown of what I have missed. Only the important things, we can go over the other things later.”

I started to sit up, Luther moving back over to lay on the foot of the bed, everything in my entire body hurt and with moving it only hurt worse, but I had to look at myself in the mirror.

“Rundown of the following, since you’ve been back, I’ve fed Luther twice a day, 4 ounces of his pure chow from his automatic feeder.”

I nodded, well least he isn’t starving that’s good, I thought once I finally managed to place my feet on the cold hard wood floor.

“Continue” I nodded again, at this point I don’t even know why I do it, its almost as if I see Arthur as a person, kind of crazy of what artificial intelligence can do to you after being around it for so long, and Arthur’s program has being considered advanced long before I even received the base of it from Gideon, and that was so many years ago.

“Christmas has passed by five days, though it is noted that is your least favorite holiday. Unfortunately, you were not going make it to your family gathering at your aunts’ house, I was able to send a text message saying you weren’t able to make it as something with work had come up.”

Of course, Christmas had passed now that I missed that family reunion my mother is going to chew my ass out. I guess this is another excuse to avoid her, not that I speak to her normally.

Arthur continued, “You’ve also had 17 missed calls. 11 being from Neila, four calls being from your mother, and the last two calls being from the number you had me put an encryption on.—”

Wait—the only number I’ve a tracking on recently is….

Him.

“Did he leave any voicemails?” I asked, only this time had I tried to push my body up from the bed using the end table as a support. I had to piss so bad.

“Yes, he left two voicemails, the first one being over one minute long, the second one being about thirty seconds, would you like me to play—”

I cut him off, “No—I don’t want to hear them.” I shook my head, “Thank you, we’ll go over the rest later.”

It was just then I finally was able to push myself into standing, not only did every muscle and bone in my body hurt, being able to look at every piece of skin I was able to see I was covered in bruises, though they were old and yellow, they looked worse than they felt.

Now the problem was I had to get to the bathroom, and teach myself to walk all over again…

Okay Rhylan, it’s one foot in front of the other. I can do this.

I chuckled at myself.

Once I finally made it to the bathroom and turned on the light, I gasped from what I saw in the mirror, I was a mess.

I was in a huge T-shirt I didn’t recognize, probably Ethan’s, which meant he saw me without pants on seeing my bear legs covered in bruises. To be honest, he’s seen worse.

As I got closer to the mirror, I realized the white parts of my eyes were red and blood shot, I must’ve gotten hit in the head at some point or other, I went to take off the shirt when a large pain flooded to my side, God damn these hurts.

Placing my hands on either side of the sink I still trying to pick my brain on not only how I ended up here in my life bloodied and beaten.

I don’t know how I’m going to ever get away from this.

-

“Mom?” I opened the door of my childhood home, missing the dogs I grew up with running up to me, but it’s been a while since we’ve lost them, I still feel guilty for not being able to be in their last minutes of life. But as always, for everything, I was not even in the country.

My mom yelled from her office, “In here!”

I started walking to her office, “Mason’s truck is gone, the door was unlocked, are you working?” I leaned on the doorway looking at my mother stair at her computer screen. She didn’t even turn to me at first, “You know I’m really annoyed with you,” She started, glancing over at me then her jaw dropped, “Rhylan! What happened?” She stood up quickly from her desk to examine my bruised face, I shook my head, “I don’t really remember.”

Her face crumpled, “Have you had one yet?” She questioned, I shrugged, “Not yet, Thank God. I don’t know if I would survive the pain right now, this isn’t all he left on me.” I spoke quickly.

I tried my best normally not to talk about my life in the military with anyone, but because I didn’t exactly cut my mother, and stepfather off and I would constantly be gone for months at a time and come back with a new bruise and mental illness, she ended up figuring everything out without me telling her the details.

It still gives me the worst anxiety to speak about it, not only because I’m still technically enlisted in the torture but also because Dickwad has threatened the little family, I have left to keep me from telling the secrets he fights so hard to keep from the people of America.

I couldn’t look at my mother in the eyes, she’d be able to see through me. “I just wanted to show you why I couldn’t come to Christmas.” Not to mention wasn’t even back in the country until three days ago, I thought.

She nodded, “Do you need anything?” her finger was poking the large black and blue spot under my eye, I slapped her hand away, “Stop.”

Making her chuckle, I rolled my eyes, “I don’t need anything, I’m going to get food. You want to come?” I asked pulling my car keys out of my leather jacket, she went back to sitting at her desk, “I wish I could, but I got to work. Maybe next time,” I nodded turning away, to walk out the front door.

“Put some ice on your face!” She yelled as I was about to open the front door.

“I will” no I won’t.

I made my way to the veterans haul I used to spend a lot of my time in when I was in smaller less extensive missions but still needed some time to relax and talk to those that might’ve experienced the same experiences as myself, that and they serve cheap beer.

But when I walked in the guys that were playing pool immediately looked over at me shocked, “Rhylan?” RJ asked, I looked around every exit, every window, closed good. I looked back at RJ, “Yeah, it’s me. I need a drink.”

I went up and sat at the bar making sure not to sit on my overly long hair, “What the hell happened to you?” RJ walks inside the bar area, starting to mess around with different types of alcohol and picking up a heavy crystal whiskey glass. I shook my head and laughed slightly, RJ was the owner of the veterans haul in my small town, and an army veteran himself serving two tours in Afghanistan and one in Desert storm, now he was known in being in the popular motorcycle club in this shitty town, looking over at him seeing his tanned arms show off his freshly finished sleeve tattoos.

“Nice tats.” I said, taking a sip of the ever-clear mixture he put in front of me, and while it burned on the way down it felt good.

He shook his head, “Don’t change the subject.”

I sighed, “What do you want me to tell you? I’m not supposed to say anything.” Pulling my cigarettes out of my pocket and putting them on in between my lips signaling a light, which he lit despite the fact he was annoyed with me.

“You’ve always been honest with me before, what’s different now?”

I laughed, “what isn’t different now? I’m an actress now, to my uttermost despise.”

RJ also chuckled, “I laughed when I saw you got the part. I didn’t think for one second that you’d ever get an acting gig.”

“Thanks.” I looked at him with a blank face and took a long drag of my cigarette, “I never left.” I whispered.

“What?” He questioned; fuck, he wasn’t supposed to catch that.

Whatever, looks like I don’t have much of a choice now…

I took another drag of my cigarette clouding the air around us once again, watching him fan the smoke away from his face. “I never left the seals.” I clarified, taking a sip out of the cup again. 

RJ looked at me baffled, “Are you fucking crazy? When is this shit going to end?” He rubbed his hands over his face, I wish I knew.

“I don’t really have much of a choice, not until a new presidential election.” Which was coming this upcoming year, luckily.

“Then you’re getting out?” I shrugged, finishing my cigarette, and starting another. “Depends on what they say, my team is classified. I’m technically on leave right now” Then I thought about the whip marks on my body, “well, I’m supposed to be.”

“I never thought the military would take advantage of a female.” He said, almost confused of the militaries choices of choosing me rather than a man, can’t blame him.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” I downed the drink holding the glass out for more.

RJ left me at the bar with a freshly filled drink....and a cigarette lighter, knowing very well my chain smoking wasn’t going to end for a while.

After my third drink the strangest feeling came over me, it was almost like I was being watched. I looked around, but because I had downed so many drinks on an empty stomach not to mention I was slightly lightheaded from the chain smoking, nobody in the hall set off my instincts. But hey, at this point maybe my subconscious wanted me to take out my game, maybe I wanted to die from assassination.

I started to pull out another cigarette, but it was then the voice of my nightmares filled my ears, the voice I wanted to hear so bad, the accented voice I loved so much, but hated at the same time. But here we were again nearly ten years later, history repeating itself.

“You know those are terrible for you.”

I downed the drink, not even looking back at him, not only because I didn’t want his presents to be real, but also because of how hard it would be to explain the beat and battered look I was rocking.

“How did you find me?”

Henry sat in the barstool next to me making me cower to the side of me he wasn’t on, “Neila, you asked her for my phone number.” He chuckled, “When she couldn’t get in contact with you, she called me she thought you were with me. When I told her you weren’t, she got worried. I had to beg her to tell me where you lived, it wasn’t very hard to figure out you’d be at a bar.”

“But this isn’t a bar, it’s a veterans hall, which means you aren’t allowed in here, because you’re not a veteran” I spat, I was trying to be mean but even though I tried he didn’t take it that way. For fucks sake.

“Yeah, but my brother is a Royal Marine…”

I sighed, why did RJ allow veterans family memberships…at this point someone was going to join with claiming that their grandfathers, uncles, cousin twice removed, was in the military therefore they can have my cheep beer. No. It’s mine.

I still wasn’t even looking at him and he started to notice it, Rhylan changes the subject—get him to not think about it. “So, you’re here, what do you want?”

RJ came back up to bar for a second, connecting eyes with me and gesturing to Henry, I shook my head—I wanted Henry there, but at the same time I didn’t, I didn’t ever want to admit feelings to anyone. I would rather die than do so.

“The truth Rhylan, you are avoiding it. Look at me, what are you hiding?”

My eyes started to burn and every sound around the hall became distorted, how do people do this? Deal with pain, love, lust…feelings.

I could over here some muffled chatter from Henry before he spoke to me again, “Rhylan…”

I sighed and slowly but surely started to turn my body to facing him, finally looking at him in his eyes after ten years, he paused completely startled at my appearance. Did it really look this bad?

“It looks worse than It is…” I said reaching for the liquor bottle from behind the counter and filling my own drink.

Something I didn’t expect though was Henry’s reaction to it, “What the fuck happened to you? Who did this to you? Are you okay?” For a second, I didn’t know how to respond, I didn’t expect the words out of his mouth to be caring, I’ve done nothing but push him away and been hateful to him.

“Nothing you can do anything about, its okay its over.” I said glancing back to him admiring his clean-shaven face, and hair longer than I remembered from seeing him a few weeks ago.

“What happened to Tara.”

Henry just shook his head, “Didn’t work out, she’s just so much younger than me. The media makes a big show of it.” Henry took a breath, sipping the whiskey that was in a glass in front of him.

“How did you know her name?”

Stretching my back still in pain from the lash marks all over but the newly applied gauze wrapped around my entire torso applied just enough pressure, keeping it from hurting as much.

“Google… I may act like I don’t care…but I care as much as I’m—” I coughed; this was hard for me to talk about. “I’m capable of.”

Henry luckily ignored the fact I insulted myself, and just continued talking, “Well, I liked her, but yeah my publicist didn’t like it.”

I just laughed, kind of smiling, “Well, don’t ask for my opinion on it.”

Henry looked back over at me, returning my slight smile. “Well, if you have one, please, share it.”

Well, why not I thought, “It’s easier to be with someone that is younger, and I can take them places with me, rather than someone that is my age and already has a career set, I’m busy often in different countries filming and if they already have a career of their own, we’d never get to see each other.” I said, quoting Henry word for word from an interview earlier in the year, I continued—“What you’re describing is a sugar baby, you want a sugar baby. Someone who travels with you, gets fancy dinners, is available for a plus one when you go to events, and someone to…” I scrunched up my face in disgust, pointing my finger, “Satisfy your needs…”

“It’s why the media made a big fuss of everything; you chose a selfish reason on wanting someone younger than you.”

Henry paused his hand running though his hair, holy fuck is that hot…

“I’ve never thought of it like that…”

“Don’t worry most male actors are the same, Leonardo DiCaprio is a big one, Adam Levine.” I said standing up, I’m hungry, I need food.

“Where are you going?” Henry asked,

I went to pick up my car keys and a wave of dizziness came over me. Woah, it’s been years since alcohol hit me this hard, I’ve been chucking it like water since my first mission.

Immediately Henry stood going to support me, I pulled away. “Don’t touch me, I’m good give me a second.” I paused, “I need food.” Slowly I ungripped the bar to stand up straight. “You’re not driving right now, you’ve been drinking. You can barely stand.” Henry stated, trying to grab my keys out of my hand, fortunately my senses were working enough to move my hand away so Henry couldn’t get to the keys.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” My vision hazed. Oh fuck, Henry was probably right as much as I didn’t want to admit it. If I drove right now, while I couldn’t even stand, I was likely to get into a car accident and that would be a whole fuck show with the media and the police.

I sighed and threw Henry the keys, “If you crash my car, I will kill you, and trust me nobody will find the body.” I spoke calmly, walking to the exit of the hall. Henry paused, “Don’t we have to pay?”

I shook my head, “See ya later RJ” I hollered, knowing he was too busy playing pool to respond.

“I’m a sponsor, this place wouldn’t be running if it weren’t for me. Which means I get free alcohol.”

Once I sat in the passenger seat everyone paused, my god, isn’t this where every romance movie the two main characters kiss and live happily ever after, gag. Could never be me.

Sitting on the wrong side of my own car was strange, thinking about it nobody had driven it other than myself, shaking myself to reality I noticed Henry was still outside admiring the car…my god, this? You have to be fucking shitting me, I’m hungry, I grown rolling down the window.

“Are you gonna get in the fuckin’ car?” I asked, slightly noticing my accent coming out the angrier I got.

In response, Henry quickly got in the driver’s seat. “Sorry, I didn’t expect it to be this car.”

“Why didn’t expect a girl to be driving a sports car?” I asked Henry to put the key in the ignition.

“Precisely. Didn’t expect it to be this fancy.” He said, revving the engine a few times. I watched Henry’s face light up like a child.

The car he was so hyped up about was my 2016 Porsche Cayman GT4, which to be honest wasn’t on the top list of fancy cars I owned, just the one I chose to drive when I got back.

“Yeah, yeah, fancy car, drive me home.” I looked at my watch, “Its 1.a.m., no restaurant is open right now.” Henry nodded, putting the car in reverse. “Where am I going?” He asked.

“Just drive.” He nodded again.

“You don’t get people recognizing you around here, no paparazzi?” He asked looking over at me,

“Not if I can help it, people around here don’t really observe what’s around them.” Even the people in my neighborhood, but to be completely honest they are all too old to notice me, I finished the thought before pointing to a road, “Turn here.”

Henry turned.

“How did you get here without anyone noticing you?” I asked,

Henry shrugged, “I flew private, Neila made it very clear if I did find you, not to point any media in your direction.”

Okay maybe I won’t have to fire Nelia for giving away my location. Not that I would… firing the only friend I’ve pretty much ever had? That would be a shit show.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you?” Henry asked softly, I could feel his eyes looking over me as I looked out the passenger window. “No.”

I wanted to, but I couldn’t.

Maybe I’m being too mean.

“I don’t know why you care, take a right at this light and then a left, then follow the road until the stop sign.” I spat sourly, though it was unintentional. Henry did think much of it, not even a small change of beautifully sculpted face, I shook my head, Rhylan stop thinking like that. It will never happen.

Henry didn’t speak again until we got into the entrance of my neighborhood, “This is nice,” I didn’t reply I just listened to my car’s engine humming. Once I finally point to my house, he pulls in the driveway, and I press the button to open the garage.

I was finally home after a long day; Henry gets out of the car. It was then this hole shit show really stood out to me; Henry is really here.  After a long time of being…fearful of him being in my life, here he was.

Looking back at the car door, I winced realizing my lower back burning, it was going to be hard getting out of this car.

Carefully, I pull myself out off the floor but no without the worst burning shooting pain going up my spine—damn, it’s never hurt this bad.

I leaned against the hood of the car, groaning, “Are you alright?” Henry was next to me quickly, his hand goes to be put on my shoulder, “Don’t touch!” the words came out in more of a yell, as I stumbled backwards away from his grip. “Rhyland, you barely can even stand straight, just let me help you get inside.” This was the first time I actually saw him somewhat angry, but I still shook my head. “No— “I stumble, “Don’t touch.”

I walk—I mean stumble to the entrance of the house through the garage door realizing I was too week to open the door, I looked at the security camera in the corner, “Arthur, open the door!” then the electric knob on the door unlocked, I glanced back at Henry, “I have a dog, he’s large, no sudden movements—he’s highly trained.” What else should I say, “He also doesn’t understand English” Henry nods, “What language is he trained in?”

I scratch the back of my head, breaking open a scab, my god—can my day get any worse I wiped the blood from my head now on my hand on my shirt, not caring what I looked like. And while a part of me may have the hots for Henry, I’m not here to impress him. I never asked him to be here, he just is here, and while I’ll never admit this out loud. I’m glad I’m not alone.

“Bulgarian, come on—I’m still starving.” I walked in the house, trying to make much noise to be able to hear Luther’s collar jingle, I motion for Henry to walk inside and while he does, “You know Bulgarian—” Just then a loud deep bark ran through the house, and the sound of nails against hard wood floor. I looked at Henry, my shoulders falling, can men do anything correctly?

“I told you, to be quite!” I whispered yelled, listing for the sounds of a collar jingling and nails tapping, which both were coming fast.

Luther comes down the hallway in a full sprint and to directly, to guess who.

“Stop” I yelled to Luther, in the language Henry didn’t understand. Bulgarian, one of the main languages Luther understands, I figured I’d keep some of his heritage seeing it moved all around the world.

I treated this dog, that was with me through heaven and hell, like my son. Or how I thought I would treat a son of mine, didn’t have much to compare it on.

Luther halted his feet completely stopping, but his large body’s motion was still going. Newtons law of motion, whatever is in motion stays in motion, and at my greatest luck Luther ends sitting right in front of Henry.

Luther growls, a deep small bark, looking up at Henry observing every movement. Henry finally took what I said seriously and stood so still; he could be mistaken for a Greek statue.

I move to the fridge, opening it and grabbing a pre-made meal made by Sydney, I take a pause—damn wasted food again, it’s been over a week, have a I really not eaten here since I got here?

I need to call Sydney back so she can restock my fridge.

“Are you gonna help me out here?” Henry whispered loudly, trying not to move his body too much.

I chuckled, looking up to the cabinet above the fridge, now how am I going to get up there…normally I climb, that’s not going to work with the amount of damage my body has gone through.

“He’s not going to hurt you, Luther, ---” I switched to Bulgarian, “Heel. Lue, stop acting like an overprotective father, he’s not going to hurt me.”

Luther quickly made his way from my side, his head riding low as if he was still in a hunting stance but at least he was away from Henry.

“You weren’t lying, he is big, protective too.” Henry commented,

I shrugged, “We’ve been through a lot together” --- I was still looking towards the top of the fridge at the cabinets, wincing, I looked at Henry, I hate asking for help, but I was starving and only food, was going to make me feel better at this moment.

“Do me a favor will you?” I point to the cabinet, “Open it, and it should be packed full of brown pouch looking things ,grab one, if you want food grab another. I burn water so no gourmet cooking here.”

Henry easily reached the cabinet and pulled out a single MRE, handing it to me, “You really eat these? How old are they, older than you?” Henry asked, it hit me at this point I started paying attention to his accent less and less.

I groaned, really not in the mood for jokes, “First I’m not that old, and second, yes they’re older than me.” Given where I found them in a bomb house in Afghanistan, I would be surprised if they didn’t harbor some sort of new disease, or radiation for that matter.

Henry actually let out of a laugh while I was unpackaging and putting together the water for the military grade meal, freeze dried spaghetti with meat sauce, yum, just what Dr. Rhylan ordered.

“Where’s your stuff?” I asked, still focusing on what was in front of me.

“I didn’t bring anything, Neila called me, and I got on the first flight here”

I can respect this guy’s dedication but man, can he take a hint? What if I was into woman, wouldn’t be first time I’ve been told I give off lesbian vibes…

I sigh. This situation is dreadful.

“I have a guest room, down the hall second door on the left, has its own bathroom, there’s some clothes in the cabinet if you want to change.” I said opening the hot pack of the mre to heat up the spaghetti.

“Thank you” Henry said, slowly then the sound of his shoes hitting the hardwood floor disappeared into the room.

Once I was done eating, the fuel from the food still didn’t help the utter pain my body was in and it didn’t help that the leather jacket I was wearing stuck to my skin from the amount of sweat my body was pouring out.

This is has never happened before, I have been lashed so many times throughout my military career by Dickfuck himself, and my body hasn’t ever broken down so much previously, I can only wonder what had changed about this time, what made this time any different?

I could only think maybe it was the fact I was letting myself feel emotions more than I had ever allowed myself to feel before, maybe the pain of the lashes was this bad all along I just never noticed it before.

I was sitting on the couch in a tank top, Luther’s head rested on my lap staring at the blank television waiting for Henry, I’m waiting for Henry Cavill. I repeated the sentence to myself, years ago I would’ve paid millions for this, now I just have so much baggage I don’t want to burden anyone with any of it.

“You know it would help if you turned the t.v on, right?”

I jumped, damn I’m off my game today. “God, stop doing that. You’re gonna get yourself hurt one day if you keep catching me off guard.”

“I’m sorry” Henry sat on the white ottoman in front of the large L-shaped couch, right in front of me.

“Can I ask you some questions?” Henry asked, his hands together messing with his fingers,

I should’ve expected this, “Depends what they are.” I was still staring off in the distance, my brain was hazy from the pain I was in.

“There’s camera’s everywhere in this house, why?”

I shrug, “Lots of robberies in the area”

Henry smiles, “You expect me to believe that?”

I lock eyes with him for the first time since he sat down, “Yes” my voice was blank, I was being serious.

“Okay…”

Henry starting playing with his fingers again, “Is there anywhere I can touch you?” His voice was shy, like he didn’t know what to expect when asking the question.

I took in a sharp breath, if only he could know why I hated human contact so much. I slowly start to nod, “My hands, only if I know you’re going to though…I have to—prepare myself.”

Henry nodded, “So can I?” He gestured to my callused scared hands, I start breathing deeply, I can do this.

I lean forward closer to Henry, our knees so close from touching and reach out my hand, I wince wrapping my right arm around my bruised stomach to give my upper body support.

Henry looks at my hand, “Are you sure?”

“Get on with it.”

Henry reaches only a few inches only to softly take my hand into his as if it was going to break at the slightest bit of pressure.

The only thing that surprised me was the way Henry was looking at my arms, using this chance to analyze every scar, burn mark, and tattoo I had on this arm alone, as he was analyzing his eyes stopped on the largest scar on the arm, one that started from about a quarter into my forearm and wrapped around the right side to the back.

Henry glanced at me, “Are you going to tell me how you got any of these?” He asked still holding on my hand and moving my arm around without touching the arm directly, which I was grateful for.

I shook my head, “Probably not.”

Henry’s eyes continued up my arm stopping at the tattoo on the top of the arm, starting on the inner shoulder and ending on the back shoulder blade. “What language is this?”

I glanced at the tattoo, thinking, to be honest I don’t even remember where I got it, was it Israel?

“Uhm—” I turned my arm trying to read it, “You don’t know what’s tattooed on your own body?” Henry teased, “I do too! Its Latin, not for self, but for county”

non sibi sed patriae – an old Navy Seal saying, while true for most soldiers, my military situation was a delicate one.

Henry softly nodded placing my left hand down, gesturing to the other one, I trade arms giving him my right arm and using my left to support my upper body.

While I didn’t have many scars on this arm, it was the most tattooed side of my body and that showed something when Henry’s eyes landed on the tattooed name across my inner bicep.

Gideon.

“Who’s Gideon?” Henry asked, I could see the erg to caress my muscled bicep, but the tensing of my body caused his eyes to connect with mine, I hadn’t really spoken about Gideon in years, my eyes shy away from Henrys, “It doesn’t matter, he’s dead.” I said, rubbing my hands together, what’s this uneasiness feeling I was experiencing called?

Henry didn’t get the hint and continued his questioning, “Was he your lover?” Well, I didn’t expect that question, I shook my head, “Absolutely not” Though, I’m like thirty-five percent sure we did kiss at one point while both extremely drunk, but I wasn’t going to actually say that to Henry unless I was one-hundred percent certain.

Henry slowly went for my right hand again, sighing and rolling my eyes I give it to him as he continued looking up my right arm.

The tank top I was wearing was low cut, and while form fitted on the top bust area, it was flowy towards the torso, the big shower of the conversation was the largest scar I had cross my chest scattered along with shot gun pellet scaring’s, and the fifty-millimeter bullet sized hole I had in the middle of the scar.

I’ve told very few people about the story about how I got the scar, why it was so oddly shaped, jagged, and why I was shot in the first place.

Truth be told I was wearing a bullet proof vest, the bullet was at a far enough range while it was stopped by the vest, somewhat, but still made its way a through the stele plates protecting me. I was lucky enough the bullet didn’t shader on impact otherwise I would be dead right about now.

“Is it true you had to get the bullet out yourself?” Henry had the softest voice, as if he raised it any louder, he would scare me away.

Great, I seem timid. Just what I wanted.

“Yes” I said, pulling my hand away, I was done with human contact for the day.

Henry and I sat in silence for a few moments before he spoke again, “I wish you’d open up to me.” He whispered, I don’t believe he intended for me to hear it, but I did, “That’s a lot to ask of me.” I said breathily.

I saw Henry visibility flinch at my words, causing a pierce in my heart, what is this feeling?

“I’m sorry, I—” I sigh for what feels like the millionth time today.

“I don’t know how to have—” This is a lot harder for me to say than I had anticipated.

“I understand” Henry nodded, rubbing his palms against the fresh pair of sweatpants he was wearing…grey sweatpants…

Oh my god.

Don’t look.

My eyes dart away, back to the blank television. “its uh.. getting late, you should get some sleep.” I said, starting to slowly get up from off the couch, my body throbbing with every movement, lower back on fire with every step I took.

“Hey”

Henry quickly stood up from the ottoman, locking eyes with me from away across the house as I was making my way towards my own bedroom.

“Thank you”

“Don’t mention it.”

Then I open the door, Luther following me in.

Closing the door behind me, I immediately go to peel off the sweated tank top gulled to my body, I stagger to the bathroom looking at myself in the mirror, my vision cloudy. I looked worse than I did this morning, as if that was possible.

I started to take of the ace bandages wrapped around my torso, but the smell coming directly from the slashes on my back was the most appalling thing.

Fuck. It must be an infection.

“Arthur, does this look like an infection to you?” I show my back to the camera in the corner in my bathroom. Cameras in the bathroom? I know weird, but I’m paranoid and seeing I was kidnapped just days ago, being paranoid is the least of my worries.

“Analyzing.”

“Yes indeed, while I’m unsure what exact infection it is without further testing. I suggest going to the nearest emergency room—”

“No!” Fear is what flooded through me, I hate hospitals.

“Switch to Health advisory one” I pull out a smart watch from the bathroom drawer to monitor my vital signs while I am sleeping.

“Rhylan, are you sure about this decision? The infection has already surpassed where the use of oral antibiotics, and IV antibiotics are necessary.”

“If I die, I die.” Its gods will. If there even is a God, no matter how many times I’ve found myself calling out for God. Nothing or nobody has come.

Healthcon one was a preventive measure I coded into Arthur to prevent me from dyeing, the process was to have Arthur’s program motor close, my breathing, my oxygen levels, my heart rate and rhythm, and if anything is going wrong notify emergency services if absolutely necessary.

Because, as I’ve said before I hate hospitals.

Walking to my bedside table I put the smart blood pressure cuff around my upper arm, I go over to my closet getting the roiling IV stand, and while I hate hospitals I love pain, as sadistic is it is.

Over the years, I’ve collected many different types of medical devises to prevent me needed further care…That included IV medical grade saline and others, and while I knew how to use some of it, the problem was finding a vein.

It was when I finally was attached to the expensive salt liquid, the biggest wave of exhaustion fell over my body. I didn’t even bother putting clothes on or showering, I fell on my white silk sheets in a sports bra and panties, and the huge ass ace bandages wrapped around my torso.

But as my eyes started to fall, I could only wonder if this was the last time I would ever see, breath, hear, or think. One could only hope this isn’t my last run.

[blonkk]

i’m getting so close to fucking up my life and posting this on insta. like a lot of people i know are normal but a LOT are trans rights activists, a few are “trans” and one of my jobs is super gendie. like i’m the only one there who refuses to state my pronouns and i can feel the air get heavy and awkward lol…and obv my friends /coworkers and even the owner follows me so like.

like i’m being so serious though there is an actual calculated massacre of palestinians happening. as it has been for decades. no i’m not gonna call it genocide just yet because as i have seen repeatedly using words incorrectly totally erases their meaning. like the trans community! how do you seriously justify using that word to describe what you believe is your experience of oppression? NO ONE is targeting trans people. no one. you have the lowest murder rates. you co opt every single social group and movement and reorient it around yourself and ostracize/vilify those who refuse to comply. not even just those who openly oppose you, but those who won’t follow along.

we see this ongoing brutalization of real actual people who don’t have a strong/effective governing body by a world superpower with military allies and funding around the globe. THAT’s violence. that’s oppression. not being told you’re actually not at the centre of everything that’s ever happened in the world

i really am gonna out myself publicly soon idk idc i can’t take this anymore the silence is actually physically hurting me. i just know i’m gonna lose so many friends even those who don’t gaf about trans shit because they’re scared.

but enough is enough. it’s the most privileged thing in the world to be able to dominate every single issue comfortably from twitter and your crumb filled polycule in your cozy safe western home. i don’t give a fuck about perceived threats to you especially if you’re a tim; no one is hurting you people, it’s actually the other way around. and you’re demonstrating your male socialization and entitlement by making sure that as the world witnesses the devastation of more lives from that same tired region of the world once again, you’re the ones in danger.

shut up about holocaust denial. you have no idea what the holocaust was. you have no idea what it’s actually like to be targeted and persecuted because of how you are born, who you are culturally. jews and cross dressers and disabled people and actual gay people from that time do know. and we all know, as clearly stated in the third reich, that the holocaust was instituted to remove undesirables from society, NAMELY jews.

jk rowling is pointing out that you can’t position trans people at the centre of the holocaust. AND that the concept of “trans” then was not what it is now — people (mostly males) were gay and due to rigid gender roles they may have cross dressed or called themselves some version of a man-lady etc. and that many of the doctors being credited for trans research actually engaged in uhhhh mutilation human experimentation and eugenics. not quite the same as critical life saving research fuckfaces

even by admission from historians touting “queer” theory, trans people did not suffer tremendously at the hands of nazis. please look at the death tolls of the actual persecuted parties. please consider how vain and evil and corrupt it is to rewrite history and appropriate unimaginable suffering for attention and sympathy, to further your own selfish and ill founded agenda.

idk why the link won’t work but please for the love of christ. good god. read something real for once. not pseudo history

& once again i implore you to really think bout what you’re doing to get another woman with the tits to not comply. look what you did to sinead o’connor and amber heard and brittany spears and all the women in the world who didn’t behave . cowards

like what you’ve done to women; erased our history, erased our experiences and are erasing our right to say who and what we are . a trans woman threw the first stone at stonewall! wrong. that was a gay cross dressing man. you are shitting all over him and his life for taking his right to say who he was from him. trans women are breaking boundaries — woman of the year! fastest swimmer in the world! heavy weight champion! youth basketball prodigy! wrong. you’re excusing male entitlement and theft of womens spaces and accomplishments. you’re celebrating the rollback of sex based rights. you’re dismissing the experiences and dreams and goals and hard work and basic rights to acknowledgement and respect of females.

trans women have no representation! wrong. every where you go, everything i watch i’m bombarded with trans women being forced in, added like they’re an organic part of social groups, particularly female ones. i remember back in 2020 watching euphoria and realizing that schaeffer has a duck and my initial disgust and discomfort that it had been so sneakily spring on me; it’s so innocent, two sad lonely teen girls lying in bed, harmless. and then you’re supposed to not react when you see this grotesque bulge in pink frilly girl panties. you’re supposed to not show revulsion at that. or wonder why a young lesbian girl is shown to be attracted to a male. shown to not have any problem with a penis. even if rue was straight it would be disturbing and inappropriate. stop trying to force your dicks into everything. shock people into submission. fucking freaks

jk rowling will not stop and no amount of this dishonesty and bandwagoning will make her. i honestly don’t know if people will feel shame for doing this to her, i have my doubts seeing how things have gone. but this is wrong over right that’s happening right now, and everyone too stupid and cowardly to realize it or say something is complicit. congrats! you’re a woman hating, woman fearing witch hunter

[azlovesem]

If those people font make amends mow that i have them in their heels im honna finish them sll off. Itll be really messy. I dont fear the fbi secret servicr yotr pussant fuckn cis wow i can smell those fuck ass losrrs coming. Kids compared to me npt kne american is art. Not musk not this chivk not sny of em. Ive slready too many times for upyr fuvk ass services to be taken seriously. Its slmost like theyre npt even there. Maybe ive infaltrated more than you think. It wasnt hard nobody waz hapoyveyoth the thomgs the way they were. No im charge of nato and north smetica im s president above the president. Thsnk fuckn God a conpeyent leader like me is here now. I rule north america now anyone says anything else im gonna kill uou. Its better this way everyone can see im better and people will be better off. Well rich people wont be bit its better than me killing you all like i did those google fuckers off italy. That was us of course the Archs. We dont joke musk so stop tryn to get ahead. The whole idea of markets and you is finished go make rockets politics isnt your thing. We dont joke we kill moyher fucker snd youre just some nerd good bean head to us.we re the military the nato mitary not americsn they just are innour club. Ill assassinate. Anykne as you can see asshole dont talk agsin evervtbats be a mistske god you. I just threatened you again asshole. Ive 10 000 troops ehod all attack you at yhe sane time yoh or snykne else wouldnt survive that. Kyles eorm food arguing with nd you aannz keep arguing stupid ads rocket bitch. I bitched out your whole punk ass everything bitch. Amd i have attacked several of your ksunches punk. You wanba fuck with military tupes youll get fuckn murdered. Fuck guilianni amc trump those has geens its ovef i smrewdy made dure. I do t even to kill thise fools anymore im gonna let cancet eat them away. Me musk. Ill never get it. I never hear you talkn about charity. Its not my job im an Arch im doin my job. Whst do you to help dedperate people fuck ass? Ya liuke yhe idea of dueling me with lustild bitch. All you polo wesrinb agents fromametica are stupid. I dont think i can evrn ounk lff a nation more thsn i have yours wos you butvhes teally tske it dry in the ass. Porno goofz cali snarten up or ill gonnz waste that region. Turnnoff the litn nachknd or i slide you sll jnto the ocean. If you hsve to hurt somrone do it its better gjsn ny wrath. Ill tyrnnoff the i trrrnet girevrr ive git 100 000 soldirfs ready to ateack all jnternet hubs. Thats lonfon ad cali. We ll burn the buildings doen with dveryone j stead. Compsred to the united stated we re s grest nationnpeople say Emma. They ate not remember yhsn anx remembef GoD homsrlf asid jt. Stay whefe youre sade no on es fsafr in smsrics stsy asay from those evil people and secusl assaultinv ways. If you support them you dupport women being abused. Dfuck smericans. Goifz. Cdeceated eipeout myke n hos eife. Hos ya doin bsby? Wanna dare??? Hz ha gaahhh. Uou peopld goy ehsf uou deserved. Israel is dead if thpse atabs eant you song ffoin shig rusdia eill nuke you. I said rusdis eill nuke uou jf uoj gefinbolved thryll nike israel and uiu. Cslm that ting lol bitch doen. Rigio fucjs. Ha. A ii say ehstevef j as f you people are fuck all i dknt fear ylj fear me punk. Hey eugene see ya around i. My rosedsle tough guy. Ill slap yas on the back and say welcome home loser. Ha ha hey i csn slwsys tslk yo jr. ooo that gih looks dcary. Ha ha nust like most of ur fuck asz peopld just laugb at you. I dont agree that business or money trumps education. Anyone i ever talked to who says gjaf is a scum bG and really not a full mrmbef of himanity. Like elon musk is. American, hey bitch americsns who hgot sll best up ny me joe fuckn bidrnndhug your stupid leolle up neflrr i heve to sgain. I said dhit tyour dtipud trap shit upur stupud lrople ls trap before they get all fucked up by god agsin. If uou hsve to kill them thats fine. Like thaf musk we dont ever hear that guh talk again or hes dead. Evef just rell him not yo tslk from Micherl or hes dead. P

GILLIAN ANDERSON as DANA SCULLY in THE X-FILES (1993-2018) | S07E01 ‘The Sixth Extinction’

[lslanw]

“It’s not up to the author to teach readers morality”

Every so often, I see these posts come up, and I want to respond, because they annoy me.

quick note: I’ve professionally published about a dozen mostly horror short stories. A lot of dismemberment, poisonings, cannibalism, that sort of thing. Also, Nabokov’s Lolita is one of my favorite books.

In fact, it was Lolita being a specific mention here that got me to write this.

Accurate statement: the presence of specific content in a piece of fiction doesn’t mean the author approves of or practices the content depicted.

Inaccurate statement: you cannot look at an author’s body of work and determine that they have a thing.

Point one: Authors absolutely have things. Listen, writing takes a lot of effort, and you don’t do it unless you’ve got a pretty strong motivation. We can all agree on that, right?

Of all the things in the world that you might have written, you chose specific ones. And often, as they write, people find themselves returning to the same well over and over, because it’s important to them.

The generation of writers that lived through the World Wars often never stopped writing about them, even when they’re nominally writing about rings and hobbits, or psychic rabbits.

Toni Morrison isn’t “actually a ghost” but she is a black author living in a society that is still significantly shaped by a history of slavery, AND she would never have written Beloved if that fact did not weigh heavy on her.

Literature is absolutely strewn with the broken hearts of gay writers who were never permitted to be with the people they loved, and instead wrote beautiful, tragic novels and poems about intense, complex relationships between characters of the same sex.

You’re not crazy or overreacting when you read One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s nest and your take away is “shit, Ken Kesey fucking hates women”. You’re not wrong if you read Heinlein and go “holy shit, this guy has a hard on for the military.” Sylvia Plath is an amazing writer, but if you read any volume of her work and think “this person was probably pretty happy,” you’re not a very perceptive reader. 

Every writer leaves traces of their heart and soul smeared all across their work, and it’s not always the ones the writer expected it would be. But you wouldn’t write it if something about it didn’t matter to you.

Second point: The way you write about a thing absolutely makes a difference.

Nabokov devotes loads of time in Lolita to telling you what a piece of shit Humbert is. Nabokov, again and again, outside of Lolita, devoted loads of personal time telling anyone who would listen what a piece of shit Humbert is. It’s the whole point of the book.

I keep seeing people say “I don’t want to be forced to spoon-feed people morality“ or some variation of “it’s not my job to tell you what’s right and wrong.”

Actually, I’m going to let the original post author speak for themselves here, so I’m not putting words in their mouth.

“Authors are allowed to write downright despicable characters - and guess what they are even allowed to make despicable characters charismatic and likeble and the protagonists of their stories if they wish - because absolute monsters exist only under the bed.”

Barring the last bit (I defy you to look at history and say there have never been monsters), I don’t disagree with this, in principle. But in practice? I’ve read so many stories both published and unpublished where it’s very clear the author has some personal kink, or wish, or trauma that they’re pouring out onto the page. A lot of times it’s harmless (though I often find it annoying), but I’ve read people who were absolutely advocating for pederasty, fascism, the hotness of rape, racism, and eugenics (science fiction and horror are particularly prone to this because you can always write off that it’s “just a thought experiment” or “it’s supposed to be horror”). Just writing about a thing doesn’t mean you support it. But, if you write over and over about a thing in pretty glowing terms? People aren’t wrong to give a bit of side eye.

Point Three: Reading and Writing are both skills. Not everyone is good at them, and a lot of the traditions and trends informing both are pretty poisonous.

Every year, loads of people pick up the book Lolita, which is about pedophilia as told by a pedophile character, and come away with the impression that actually the narrator is pretty cool and probably in the right. I’m really not sure how they do it, because the book takes pains even through the unreliable narration to make sure you know the girl hates the situation but can’t get out of it, but I suspect two things are happening: one, they came in with a number of beliefs in situ that made that an easier conclusion to come to; and two, we’re trained by a tradition of narrative to assume that the narrator is right and the protagonist is synonymous with the good guy. A lot of readers, across a whole spectrum of what they read, have a tendency to miss the point. I don’t want to put that across as a moral failing. Reading takes energy, concentration, and above all practice to do well. Don’t believe me? Have you ever re-read a favorite novel a few years later and thought “wow, jeez, this isn’t how I remember it at all”? Or maybe if not that far, you’ll certainly notice things making a different impression as you’ve accrued more life and reading experience. Have you ever looked back on something you loved at 12 and thought “yikes!”? One result of this is that people can have some trouble distinguishing between “this writer is just writing about this” and “this writer is totally fucking into this.”  

A lot of people in fanfiction spaces are also learning the craft as they go, and we often start by reaching for tropes and structures that are familiar. Unfortunately, a load of those easy, familiar tools are pretty rotten at their core. (eg. The hottest people are also the morally best. It’s okay to use force to get sex because secretly the other person wants it and just playing coy. You can live for hundreds of episodes in New York City and never run across anyone who isn’t white. etc). Starting writers are most likely to uncritically replicate other people’s mistakes or preoccupations, in part because they’re so focused on figuring out how to do the thing at all. I remember talking to one young writer who had written that his main character’s girlfriend had been brutally murdered by the mob to keep that character from telling the secrets he knew about the mob (and to give the main character a tragic backstory of course). I said to him that wasn’t very effective, why didn’t the mob just try to kill the main character? He seemed completely surprised and said he had never even considered that. He was, of course, replicating a form you see over and over in action movies where men are heroes and women are disposable props. But he was new at his craft (and frankly from a pretty conservative background. He was way better about female characters once he’d been asked a couple of times to consider what he was doing). We all do stuff like that in the beginning. Listen, I know the internet isn’t a welcoming place for nuance, but here’s where I come down on this Writing, by its very nature, can never completely shake a writer’s personal and cultural baggage, though practice and proficiency can do a lot to help. A lot of writers are going to get read as saying something they aren’t. A lot of writers are going to be read as saying something they absolutely are, but don’t want to be seen as saying, and those people are probably going to deflect and yell at you for morality policing. Some people will be both at once. Some people aren’t going to know which they really are. I’ve written a couple of stories about cannibalism I’m pretty proud of. I’m not a cannibal myself and not terribly interested in eating a person, but that doesn’t mean those stories don’t have my personal feelings, thoughts, and biases about bodies, sex, violence, and the way people treat each other generally all over them. That’s WHY I wrote them, whether I knew it at the time or not.

[peachyteabuck]

For the book asks :D

A book that didn’t live up to your expectations

A book that was most out of your comfort zone

What was the most unexpected book you read this year?

What was the book you were most excited about before you started reading it?

A book you already want to reread

The book with the prettiest cover

Five books you absolutely want to read next year?

Do you have any reading goals for next year?

And a bonus question I thought of, a book that you'll never read no matter how popular it is whether its massive following or recommendations etc

A book that didn’t live up to your expectations

Any of Rina Kent's books. They get recommended a lot, but I just....do NOT like them. I understand romance novels can be formulaic, and not every romance novel needs to be subversive. But she commits the greatest crime a romance novelist can commit: She's boring. Her characters are boring.

A book that was most out of your comfort zone

This is a GOOOD question. I read a lot of different types of books, but White Trash: The 400-Year Untold History of Class in America by Nancy Isenberg was definitely out of my comfort zone both in length and it's corresponding depth. I'm like...rarely surprised, when it comes to books about the horrors of history (especially class and race relations) but her book was an ENTIRELY new perspective on class. Like, I fully thought the origin of "cracker" was the crack of a slave owner's whip. NOPE. My best friend recommended this to me years ago and I finally read it this year and it was rough. The book is also VERY dense, so it took me awhile to get through.

What was the most unexpected book you read this year?

Hmmmmmmm. Maybe Cows by Matthew Stokoe? I..uh...was very much not aware of the book's subject matter before I started and almost vomited reading it.

What was the book you were most excited about before you started reading it?

Base Nation: How U.S. Military Bases Abroad Harm America and the World by David Vine. A lot of people in my field have read the book and raved about it, so I was super excited to Get It. I was not let down. This is one of my "must-reads" when people ask me for book recommendations.

A book you already want to reread

The Feral Princess series by Ann Denton. Those books were soo surprisingly good and gritty and fucking hot. Idk how to mark re-reads in Storygraph but damn those books are good.

The book with the prettiest cover

Can I use Ace by Angela Chen? I just love the subtle purples.

Five books you absolutely want to read next year?

This reminds me, I need to update my to-read list on Storygraph with my TBR shelf. Anyway, I want to read: 1. The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander 2. Preventing Palestine: Political History from Camp David to Oslo by Seth Anziska 3. Regretting Motherhood by Orna Donath 4. Sex and Punishment: Four Thousand Years of Judging Desire by Eric Berkowitaza 5. Imbeciles: The Supreme Court, American Eugenics, and the Sterilization of Carrie Buck by Adam Cohen

Do you have any reading goals for next year?

I feel like I sound like a crazy person given how busy I'll be in 2023 but I want to read 100 books again. I love to read, and reading so much this year exposed me to a ton of new ideas and worlds despite how shitty life got. Even when I was reading romance novels more than anything else, I loved a lot of those romance novels.

And a bonus question I thought of, a book that you'll never read no matter how popular it is whether its massive following or recommendations etc

I want to say Harry Potter but that sounds like a copout so: ACOSTR or whatever it's called. I already was against it because straight white women on booktok can't be trusted (see: RE: Tessa Bailey and Katee Roberts) but you just can't fucking make me read that book. I don't even know what it's about, and I already have a bias against fantasy books because they're not really my thing. Finding out she used the death of a Breonna Taylor to promote it is also like, truly disgusting in a way I cannot fathom.

[realwizardshit]

oh man it’s been a while since ive seen some lolita drama but here it is. i got invited to a “big sisters of lolita” fb group which is for like. experienced peeps to give advice to new people. this person made a post that was like hey, ive never actually worn lolita but i wrote this article introducing people to it, and linked to the article, and was like is there anyone here who i can interview? but.

the article. is so bad. because this person is as stated an outsider, they dont fucking know anything, and they did NOT do a lot of research. everything is rather ignorant, as if everything they know about Japan is from their 2008 high school history textbook, tinged with a little bit* of racism, and this is nitpicking but for a Professional Researched Article the grammar is like, high school level.

*actually a lot

some highlights as i read it:

“We know Japan’s strictness with their way of life in terms of day-to-day life. The way of the Samurais, [...]”

“[...] the World War ending barely two decades before with the falling of the nuclear bomb. This led to America throwing millions of dollars to help Japan get back on its feet” HEY PAL???? WHO DO YOU THINK DROPPED THE BOMBS??????????????????

this is a whole sentence: “Resistance by reading manga (comics) instead of University books.”

they go on to explain in basic detail how lolita came from harajuku streetwear which is fine nothing wrong with that

a picture of Gwen Stefani dressed in a gaudy ass mismatched outfit that’s too small for her standing in front of three Asian girls in matching outfits which seems a bit yikes(tm)

“But as a Lolita, they can be young forever and disregard all these norms and rules put forth by society.”

OF COURSE mentioning the Nabokov novel because we can’t have nice things on this earth

“Because why not have some guy on the internet with no background in the field talk about it?” why not, I wonder?

*takes a shot because the author got racist again* “[...] let’s get scientific a bit.” then goes on for 2 paragraphs talking about, i shit you not, the genetic condition known as neoteny and how, quote, “most East and Southeast Asians carry this gene which gives them that childlike look.” an ignorant as fuck pseudoscientific, vaguely eugenics ish paragraph about selective breeding and what Humans find attractive

“So you can say Cuteness/kawaiiness is built into the mind, body, and soul for over 35,000 years for the Asian people.”

more talk about genetics why is this the hill you want to die on oh my god

author is from India and probably not a native english speaker. i retract my roast about their grammar its not that big of a deal, up to now i thought they were american

talking about big sisters of lolita. is this the only community they know about?

they also wrote a Starter Guide to Lolita and Ouji Fashion, let’s take a look....

wrote “J*p” instead of “Japanese” or “JP”

“Also, I’m not the right person to ask about every word in the Lolita dictionary.” Why the fuck did you write this then?

calling Taobao pieces from resellers [Reseller] Brand

a weird obsession with the military lolita substyle, like mentioning it more and before than sweet/goth/classic which is a little 🤔

on ouji (the boyish counterpart to lolita, literally translates to “prince”): “But they have more of a shota feel to the whole set.” OP I DONT KNOW IF YOU KNOW WHAT THAT WORD MEANS 

"Since Lolitas is to make oneself doll-like, [...]”

“How to act as a proper Lolita (TLDR)” two paragraphs on how you’re supposed to Act Girly and Proper which has absolutely not existed in any of my experience and really undermines OP’s half-assed attempts to characterize lolita as feminist (it is, but neither of these articles do a very good job of showing this)

“When going to tea parties, remember to carry a cupcake. It’s customs.” What?

“The guy who wrote this and the previous article is someone who has zero experience in Lolita fashion and culture and the studies of genes.” WHY DO YOU KEEP BRINGING UP GENES IT’S CLOTHES??? WHAT DO CLOTHES HAVE TO DO WITH GENETICS??? YOU FUCKING CREEP????

anyway i’ve taken lethal psychic damage. everyone in the comments is rightly roasting this guy.

[othercat2]

On Reading a Writer Whose Politics Appall You

Okay so I *DO* have past experience in reading the works of writers whose politics (conservative/right wing/excessively authoritarian) have pissed me off. Death of the author, yadda yadda. It's entirely possible to like the work of a writer whose real life opinions you have no respect for. (As an example: Christopher Stasheff.)

On the other hand, there always comes a point where I can't read the writer anymore because of the leakage of their worldview into the work. And while I haven't yet read anything too offensive in the works of the writer I'm currently reading, struggling about whether to continue reading it, despite how much I've enjoyed reading it. I've taken steps to unbookmark the fic and unfollow the writer, and I feel a little cranky about it, so have a list of writers I whose works I continued to read despite being Horrible.

Robert Adams: Extremely conservative writer. Hated socialists/communists. Kind of anti-Semitic! Possibly best known (if you are familiar with Seventies and Eighties post apocalyptic sf) for the Horseclans series of novels. I was reading it for the telepathic horses and saber toothed tigers. And the military aspects. Lord knows I wasn't reading them LGBT positive content, because RA was homophobic as fuck all. Somehow I still kept reading this series that not even RA really liked. At least he wrote dynamic and interesting female characters for the most part, unlike...

Christopher Stasheff: Conservative and Catholic author! Hated socialists/communists. Could not write a woman character if his life depended on it. By which I mean they tended to be cliche and slightly cardboard. Male characters were treated most cruelly by mean, mean women who dumped them, until they found that one pure paragon that wasn't like other girls. Or something. Stasheff did the thing where women stayed in abusive relationships not because they were trapped, but because they liked it. Or something.

Raymond E. Feist: has similar trouble with female characters that Stasheff does! But Stasheff's female characters while cliches are not boring. Feist's female characters are written on the thinnest see through paper, and again, are boring. The world building is pretty derivative except for one (1) of his species, the valheru. This did not stop me from devouring most of his Magician series.

Sherri S. Tepper: May or may not have been what we'd call a terf. Kind of ableist, if The Family Tree is any indication. (One of the characters feels that depressed people should go ahead and kill themselves.) I am told that at a convention she once made a really long speech about how people should stop having children. Eugenics proponent and kind of awful! I have hate read several of her books.

Anne McCaffrey: I am only here for the dragons, and not even the dragons because Tent Pegs. (She had some really dreadful and homophobic ideas about gay people. Which kind of shows up in her work, even when she's making an effort NOT to be horribly homophobic.) Eugenics proponent if some of her works are any indication. (Bloodline obsession and eugenics as a positive shows up a lot in her writing.)

This is of course only a very short list. The actual list would probably be much longer. >_>

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

Alright, let’s analyze it on a more specific prospective.

So, BNHA’s Society.

80% of the population have achieved superpower via birth. 20% is factually disabled in this society by lacking, again said superpowers, and face discrimination and mockery.

The Main Character belongs to this category of people, at least at first, and has been bullied and abused all his life over it, authority figures turning a blind eye to it.

Emblematic that one time he was mocked over it with the always charming phrase “Why don’t you go jump off the roof and kill yourself, maybe you’ll get a Quirk in your next life.”

So, oppressed minorities, ones that are so due to birth defects, and who are excluded by the workforce or a safe school environment due to their condition, in a eugenic society that rewards those who, by birth, have achieved the strongest Quirks, or have been given the opportunity to master them.

Let’s not focus on that.

I feel enough people have focused on how fucked that up is.

No, let’s focus instead on my sworn enemy.

Capitalism.

So, the BNHA world is a world filled with people with various degrees of superpower. This has lead to a time of strife back in the days, allowing the rise of satanic figure AFO and his messianic, Cain-like brother OFA, and shit like that.

By the time the series take place, in the 23rd-24th century, things have gotten back into a semblance of “Normality.”

By turning Superheroes into Cops.

The State, once they realize that powers are here to state, set up a system that heavily favours them.

1) You cannot use a superpower in public unless the state gives you a permit for it, under no circumstance. This especially applies to cases of self defense or defense of others. That’d be Vigilantism, and Vigilantism is a crime, as they specifically say during the Stain Arc, where both Midoryia and Todoroki, interns under two pro heroes, use their Quirks to protect two people and themselves from a serial killer. You CANNOT use your powers to save anyone or protect yourself unless the state allows you to do it. This means that you cannot protect yourself in case of a mugging, for starters, or in case someone were to, say, fight back against their r*pist by using their powers, they’d be judged guilty by the system for it.

2) This is SPECIFICALLY so the state, again, can get the MONOPOLY ON SUPER VIOLENCE. It’s the state who decides who gets to use their powers, and it’s the state who decide how they do it. This is enforced via a serieses of Military Academies, mostly private or state high school, specifically designed to mold 14 to 18 years old into future Soldiers for the Cause, military academies leading to a specific, high risk job which highly publicized among preteen and middle school kids with spots, cartoons, merchandise, everything to be sold to the kids so they get processed in those nice academies bigger than an entire city founded by so much government money that will then, in turn, allow their underage child soldiers to intern under one or more top hero during their years there, unpaid, and without adult supervision from the institute..

3) This leads us to the Capitalism. UA alone should, if Aizawa doesn’t snap and mass expels everyone in his class again, graduate 40+ heroes every year. this not counting eventual General Studies students switching courses, and all the other military academies out there. This creates a Market Oversaturation, forcing superheroes to work under a more experienced veteran as a sidekick to earn a living, and creates a competitive and toxic market. Because that’s what this is. Capitalism applied to superheroics. It’s heroes having to sell their images to products, to produce merchandise after merchandise and have it sell, to every day look at the popularity charts and BEG whatever deity out there that they did not get another dive, that they will have enough money to feed their family this month.

4) Agencies are forced to take either government jobs, or find other ways to finance themselves. An example is the agency Momo goes to for her first internship, more a joke than an actual commentary on society, (Because of course Momo gets treated as a joke), where she is conscripted into doing TV commercial by her pro hero. Another pro hero, Mt. Lady, instead uses her interns as slaves to do most if not all of her work for her. This makes superheroing a Business, as exemplified by the existence of a Business Class in UA, an highly competitive one of many corporations of heroes, where the “weaker” and “less interesting” ones are set aside, or outshined by other heroes.

5) This is an unsustainable and broken system. Heroism is seen as a gateway to fame and money, but also fucks you over pretty easily given the dangerous work conditions. Female Heroes have to be on point at all times in order not to fall in popularity, heroes have to have flashy quirks that easily catch the attention not to be reduced to underground ones, people must have safe, good powers, so not to accidentally kill anyone and be labeled a monster by society and her clear cut view of heroes and villains, but they must ALSO have a power so not to be met with Pity or Mockery for their existence, and to top it all off there is a dying maniac sprinting around the country on a limited time limit stealing everyone’s job trying to be the Symbol of Peace.

6) You can’t have a system of endless competition between everyone involved, and then have Goku go around, free of charge, and do most of the work for everyone. Had All Might been at his Full Might, he would have destroyed the superhero economy, already greatly flawed as it is, by doing everything he could to fuck it, without even realizing it. Because who the hell needs a very minimum of 40+ new heroes EVERY YEAR  in ONE COUNTRY when the symbol of peace is there, acting as deterrent? What happens to all those young, impressionable teens who just want to be heroes?

7) As I said before? They become sidekicks. They become wage slaves, unpaid interns to some flashy hero, or are forced into other... less savory sides of the job. After all, their Pro Hero might make or break their career, so who are they to talk back to them? As they are forced to do things they normally wouldn’t do? For a chance at helping people? For a chance at giving their loved ones a better life?

8) And all of this? Is played completely straight from episode 2 onward. Much like in Naruto, much like in RWBY the status quo is not to be challenged, society, this society of heroes and capitalism, is not to be challenged. The ones who do so are villains, they are terrorists who kidnap little girls with insane powers to torture a “cure” out of her, they are Serial Killers murdering frauds and legit heroes alike under a misguided view of the world, they are not to be listened to, or to be treated seriously. Why should you? They are evil. They decided to be evil. Society, the government, your employer are telling you they are evil.

9) And evil people have no rights. No, all they have, is a containment cell in Tartarus, strapped to a table, and forced to be tortured psychologically for the rest of their lives, alone, barely sentient. No Lawyer, no Process, no Pity.

10) As a rule, I LOATHE Superhero Decostructions such as “The Boys” (Comic Books, not sure about the show didn’t watch it) or anything else Garth Ennis or Frank Miller ever wrote in their entire life, ESPECIALLY Holy Terror, but BNHA?

BNHA is the universe of a superhero deconstruction... but played like a legit superhero universe.

And that’s fucked up.

PS: DON’T GET ME STARTED ON QUIRK MARRIAGES LIKE WHAT THE FUCK.

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

Cardassians aren’t Nazis (and also not quite the USSR, but I see where you’re coming from)

TW: for much discussions of Nazism, fascism, persecution, no details

So tottering around as a lover of DS9 and (disclaimer) as a major fan of the Cardassians as a not-yer-generic-villain type villain that then become less of a villain, because you can’t assign villainy to a whole species + also being German and hearing/watching/reading a lot of analyses that compare them to Nazis is inspiring me to write this (gasps for breath at the end of that sentence).

@tinsnip , @handsome-anne

1. Who were the Nazis that the Cardassians are specifically being compared to (versus neo-nazis/alt-rights, etc. that they’re not being compared to)

Short version: Post WWI the Versailles Treaty fucked over Germany in a way that left it wide open to the sort of megalomaniacal little bastard on a powertrip that fed on people’s fear and pushed them into a far-right disaster. The Nazi party itself didn’t have a ton of members, but it basically eroded any kind of democracy the country had and decided it would scapegoat Jews, Romani, communists, queer people, and other “intelligent elite”/political dissident and then spread those ideals across the world like a demented wannabe roman Caesar state. This didn’t last too long in the grand scale of world history, but left a body count of 6 million+ dead, mainly Jewish.

2. Germany and its relationship to this history

So Germany tries pretty hard to teach people this history in schools, through memorials, in film, etc. It’s not perfect by any means, there’re still discussions on how to make reparations, as well as neo-nazis and other far-right people around still, sadly just like in the rest of the world. 

But it’s not covering up these atrocities, because there’s a belief that the way to make sure it doesn’t happen again is to be honest. Sadly, not everyone around the world gets as detailed a history surrounding its origins, happenings, and aftermaths, nor does every country engage with its own past like that.

3. Let’s get fictional (Cardassians, first impressions)

The Cardassians are a species that we mainly meet first through their subjugation of the Bajoran people, and then on DS9 following the immediate aftermath of the occupation on Bajor and everything that follows on from there. Throughout the story we discover various bits about what they had done - labour camps, mass executions, forced prostitution, and in that one Voyager episode I’m not a fan of because it didn’t have the range, experimentation.

On the surface, pretty comparable to the nazis, I get it. Hell, often that’s definitely “the source” of where the writers are getting their ideas.

4. So they’re... Nazis?

The problem comes when using one fascist regime as a go-to for these atrocities. It ignores the reality of fascism beyond this particular point in history and also it’s just not that simple. 

When looking at Nazi Germany we also have to look at the source of its making, the climate around it (countries like the UK having a nazi party, Italy and Spain having fascist dictators, hell, the list of dictators that were/are not German is disgustingly long, the worldwide anti-semitism making surrounding countries apathetic or even sympathetic to the Nazis, etcetc.) and the aftermaths of WWII.

The Cardassians are not Nazis. (As an aside the Federation are not the brave allies, but that’s another post for another day.) I’ve seen them compared to the USSR - both by official writers and fandom - which I won’t comment on seeing as I am not from anywhere that was affected by that (I’m not East German, but I do have East German friends), but at least this points out that one cannot compare Cardassians to a specific atrocity that happened at a specific time with specific connotations surrounding it. 

Is the Obsidian Order the Gestapo or another secret police? Which secret police? Is Garak “the good Nazi” trope - but then how does that align with Cardassians living under a repressive regime for centuries, not a few years, and therefore take into account an indoctrination and climate of fear created over several generations? No child “born” into the nazi regime became an adult while it was still lasting, unlike the Cardassians (and many other real life dictatorships and fascist states - as well as "democratic” states that have similar kinds of surveillance, oppression, mass-imprisonment and disappearances, and camps).

Is every Cardassian soldier a “nazi”? How does one compare that to polish and french prisoners (see Pierre Seel for a particular harrowing account, all the trigger warnings apply) who were forced to fight for the Germans and put on the front lines? 

Eugenics, labour camps, and every other atrocity has been practised by numerous regimes, both in history and now, can we shrug off every country that’s participated in them for the sake of making the metaphor “easier”?

How does the aftermath of the Cardassian Union - when they’re attacked by the Klingons and themselves occupied by the Dominion and then have their main planet bombed to the point of millions dead - align with Nazi Germany?

5. It doesn’t.

It doesn’t. It doesn’t neatly align with any other fascist or military dictator-led regime either. This is not saying that there aren’t aspects obviously borrowed from history (and can easily apply to now). This is saying that in trying to bend the Cardassians into Nazis specifically, people are ignoring every other aspect about them and in my opinion doing a disservice to those who suffered under the actual regime. This is a fictional world, with fictional people that is based on an oppressive society template. It is also a fictional world in which the people themselves are oppressed (especially if you align with what’s written in Andy Robinson’s book) - I’ll be getting back to that point in a bit.

 I would argue that making it “about Nazis” is too easy. This isn’t about “us” this is about “them” those evil bastards from wwii. It strips the Cardassian story of any current-day relevance. One can look no further than one’s own society to see people struggling against acknowledging histories, being treated as second-class citizens, etc. No need to go back in time to do so.

It also strips the Cardassians of any three-dimensionality. If they’re just villains then why are we rooting for their uprising to succeed at the end of season 7? Why do we want their society to flourish, their people to no longer have a broken court system, and their secret police to stop training and recruiting children if they’re Nazis, the convenient shorthand for über-evil?

Cardassia isn’t about a past society, it’s about our society. If we empathise with the Cardassians and don’t cast them as villains, then it’s a discussion about our own oppression and privilege. And it’s a damned good scifi allegory (even if I sometimes don’t think the writers and showrunners quite understand it themselves - death of the author and all that).  

6. To conclude

I didn’t mention Bajor as much in this, because I was very focused on Cardassians, but I would argue that while there is value in casting them as “space Jews” (as I’ve seen here and there) because I understand the value of representation and I am not taking that away from anyone (I hope), similarly if one reads this take as the only valid one  it ignores the reality of religious oppression on a wider scale and also that the Bajorans’ oppression at the hands of the Cardassians didn’t happen for the same reasons as the Jewish genocide at the hands of the Nazis - I would also argue that in making Cardassians = Nazis / Bajor = Jews, we similarly ignore that the Nazis were and are not alone in perpetuating anti-semitism, which kinda again leans into the “Good Federation (the Allies) Versus Evil Cardassians (Nazis) - because none of the Good Allied Countries have ever/are currently involved in persecution or dehumanisation *stares into the void*

And lastly - bringing back a point I made earlier about Cardassians themselves being oppressed by their own government - something that is often forgotten when people talk “Nazi tropes in genre fiction” is that the first country the Nazis occupied was Germany. I’m mentioning this, because it’s interesting in the metaphor, but it’s also conspicuously is absent in the simplification of how these reads are applied. It’s easy to cast the Cardassians as a whole as Bad People, but it makes for worse story-telling and has uncomfortable undertones of how the world reads Germany’s people as being at fault as a whole as well, without taking into account the specific events that we were globally complicit in - and once again the metaphor falls apart, because allegory doesn’t work so easily, and it shouldn’t.

TL; DR In general I am uncomfortable by “Nazi’s used as tropes” in any fictional world. One shouldn’t sacrifice analysis nor simplify history for the sake of making it easier to make a quick point about “bad guys” and forcing allegories into one shape makes them lose their power.  

Also watch German films on Nazism and European ones on WWII if you’re looking for some better takes (also Cabaret, one of the best movies ever made).

[thecharizardfromhell]

My TotV AU: Changes and things kept

Note- Soneone took down the wiki so I may have to dig through archive sites to find my old CANON sources

What the hell is TotV : Tales of the Valkyr is an original story/fan fiction hybrid with a canon au (Scars) written by Canadian YouTuber Lily Orchard it also has ties to several fictional properties namely Family Guy, MLP:FIM, and WoW.

Why have an AU: I like some of the ideas just not how they were implemented

So if you're at least partially familiar with the source here are my biggest changes

-some characters have been cut from the plot. Namely Elethyn, Mags, Honey Crisp, Ellie, Ascentias's rapist, the cast of mlp, Megsalyn (basically meg from family guy) and Jehovah.

Elethyn-owner wants her to not be tied to the TotV plus I have much darker/more in line with character plans for the Ascentia romance plots. Mags- personal taste honestly I feel like an uwu babu sassy child whose colorful and quirky plot clashes with my themes. Plus I'm not a huge fan of writing this type of character . Honey Crisp-see Mags, Ellie-is it mean to say she's basically a pallette swapped Elethyn with less personality?, Ascentias's Rapist- a plot device that revolves around molestation yeah I'm going dark but I'm not the biggest fan of using that for shock value . The Cast of MLP-there will be unicorns but not these ones I replaced Twilight's being a war bride to Ascentia with a humanoid character however. Megsalyn- because she shouldn't be alone without her creek buddy no actually it's because its such a weird ass plot inclusion that clashes with my vision . Jehovah because that whole plot had super inconsistent holes and was overall a bit like a cringy reddit atheist screed (I say this as an atheist by the way lol )

-characters changes/kept ideas

Valkyr in general-theyre a authoritarian fascist totalitarian government not a monarchy (which they never showed traits of-Lily please fucking research politics ). They like many fascist cultures are obsessed with the idea of purity based on race something I didn't add it's in the original ) but there is a large resistance movement who distrusts Valithra and her ideas and policies . Forced military service is a facet of their society (including to altered prisioners of war), polygamy with war brides/husbands/partners is practiced amongst the "most pure" aka those closest to Valithra but is discouraged among the "commons". Marriage in general is discouraged and outright denied amongst the commons due to Valithra's eugenics mindset. Gay marriage is surprisingly legal but once again more encouraged to the "most pure". Religion is based on the idea of Valithra as a fallen goddess. You can executed on the whims of Valithra and to a lesser degree Ascentia. Most pures have the mysterious ability to regenerate and come back to life (along with bringing others back) Valithra claims it's due to genetic superiority but that seems oddly suspicious doesn't it? (not getting into spoilers), gender identity is only respected amonst the "most pure" sadly . Experimentation on prisoners of war and prisoners is commonplace. They are not Nomads and have several cities nations etc. The Capital of Auralvana (I changed the name) is the head and home of the mysterious ancient Citadel (forbidden to most). Killing and violence is taught in schools . Pro Valithra propaganda is common as Is media suppression. Economy is being worked out (I'll figure that out I swear but it's probably capitalist)

Valithra Ryder-im keeping her iteration as a cis woman to fit her new backstory. I actually brought back the dead wife plot too . I've also made her a bit less openly cruel when manipulating other nations and planets. She's also a bit more calculated instead of all brute to extend her threat level . She now also creates propaganda and has actual opposition amongst her people.

Ascentia-she is still highly treated like a prized baby by her upperclass "most pure" cohorts but fairly feared by the commons for her extremely violent blood lust nature even with violence being normalized . She is extremely beautiful and willingly models and acts for propaganda pieces . Her extreme love of violence was sadly groomed into her from childhood and war became a somewhat religion to her . Despite her brutal nature she's also intelligent and willingly helps Sunatu with her experimentation. She has the most war brides among her social class with a staggering 400. She is abusive towards some . She enjoys living the life of luxury and hates being challenged. She secretly fears the idea of one day being actually hurt by an enemy and thus losing her social status.

Sunatu- no longer Palestinian due to the racist implications of turning her into a demon (especially since she's the only real world POC) so she's just a spooky demon. An "honorary" Valkyr she lives in the squalor zone at the edge of the city but because of her willingness to go hard into the unethical human/humanoid experimentation sciences Valithra gives her a slightly nicer house and guards to kill any squalor dweller planning to off her. Her obsession with these inhumane sciences are what got her exiled from her demon home . Blind due to Valithra ripping her eyes out in rage (a horribly common punishment) but able to be meticulous in her work . Secretly fears Ascentia

Tolrah- defected from Valithra's military and faked her death in order to become a rebellion leader . I stripped her of her numerous bisexual stereotypes and killed the plot point about her neglecting to save Ascentia from her Rapist because of said stereotypes. I also decided that the Hebrew tattoo punishment idea was tasteless as fuck because how the hell did Lily not put two and two together and realize hmm this seems offensive because I reminiscent of the Holocaust . Which despite the Valkyr being race obsessed I won't allude to because actual people died and were tortured . Anyway she's brave intelligent and falls in love with the main character.

Edit: it's Xarlan

Phayaun- toned down her brutal nature. Tolrah's pupil who defects later on after seeing the true extent of Valithra's cruelty .was forced to give up her true love to be a bride for Ascentia (who killed her) so harbors resentment towards Ascentia.

OC shit

Main characters

Xarlan- a Valkyr soldier in training. Starts to question his loyalty towards Valithra after the Earth invasion and witnessing the numerous war crimes

Duskara- took Twilight's role. Former princess of a fairy kingdom sold to Ascentia as a war bride. Seeing her people massacred she formulated a plan to destroy the Valithra regime . Through manipulation and spying she discovers the secret that may even the odds against Valithra.

Eddy-a survivor of the attack on Earth. Eddy and his boyfriend must figure out a way to rally the other survivors and protect what is left and to contact those who were taken

Nightmare/Cait- Former human twisted into the form of a winged unicorn through magical experimentation for one of Ascentia's twisted ideas . When she finds the secret from Duskara she decides to wage war as a new type of monster on the regime

All for now

[fosterweird]

My WIPs (info for fun)

This is just a post with most of my WIPs that I'm currently working on and their rankings. For some context in case you're worried about my worthiness to write on these topics I am a queer neurodiverse trans guy who's done a lot of research into queer topics, autism, good representation, philosophy, true crime and consent laws. I am not trying to offend anybody with my content and if anything here bothers you I can add tw tags :) More below the cut!

Main Project: In By Sunset. A young adult supernatural romance set in the 1800's with a queer twist. Main Characters: Rhysander 'Rhys' Evans, Jesse Galloway, Arthur 'Artie' Stark, Wolfe 'Tobias' Woods. Plot/synopsis: In an English town full of monsters and myths, a bunch of private school boys and an illigitimate faery prince work to solve the problem of how to save their friend's stolen immortal soul while navigating the difficulties of romance, grudges, and magical corruption. (Basically Rhys's dumb ancestor is a theiving magic man and made it Everyone's Problem. Fuck Evangelos Andreadis all my homies hate Evangelos Andreadis)

Most Fun: Fireflies. A young adult polyam romance about faeries and supernatural obligations. Main Characters: Igris Fletcher. Prince Basilton of the bugs (Basil or Baz.) Abernathy. Antagonist: Jupiter. Plot/synopsis: The unwitting embodiments of Life and Death and a Victorian Dandy struggle with the ethics and safety of revenge murder while going to college in order to find their own paths unrelated to the forces of the universe that guide them. (Also. Faeries again! Another illigitimate prince but slightly More Legitimate. Because he is prince of something. And it is bugs. Also enemies to lovers with Abernathy the bird man and Basil the buglover.)

Most Problematic: Sweet and Sordid. Main Characters: Montel Leo Marx. Louis Victor AKA The Decorator. Grant Hill. Charles Byrne. Plot/synopsis: A philosophy teacher/stalker becomes obsessed with a serial-killing FBI Autopsy Surgeon who would do anything to protect him, while two profilers come closer and closer to finding his secret. (It is from the antagonists perspective mostly. And it's problematic (aside from the obvious) because Montel is sort of into eugenics. Which I DO NOT ENDORSE. Just a disclaimer. I tried to make this as unbelievably fucked up and uncomfortable as possible while also making the characters somewhat sympathetic. I was very interested playing around with morals at the time.)

Most Unique: 'New Idea'. Dark romance with a different more mature style of writing, experiment in detailing, 3rd person, and single POV work. Main Character: 'Dorian'. LI: Augustus Stravinsky. Plot/synopsis: A story written in the style of If We Were Villians and The Secret History about an artistic hitman, an attention-seeking amnesiac, and their college experience. (Mostly just a way to refine my writing, I haven't done much with it lately.)

Most Recent: 'Complicated'. Queer Superhero romance with trans rep (he is a shapeshifter and ik that's a stereotype in animation but). Main Characters: Shev 'Sev' Reynolds. Richard 'Juno' Giovanni. Antagonist: Killian Cravez. Plot/synopsis: An organization somewhere between villains and heroes works to destroy the corporate elite, using a shapeshifting highschool senior and a darkness-manipulating con-man who thinks his purpose in life is solving problems, starting with the richest man in the world: CEO of the online shopping company Amalgam. Are their extreme methods really going to work, or will it cause them more problems in the end? (I wanted to get back into superheroes, but I didn't want it to be at all possible for my work to be turned into pro-capitalist military propaganda like what happened to Marvel. I'll try to make the romance secondary but making everything gay is my only talent.)

I try to add as much diversity as possible to all of my stories. As you can tell by them all being gay romance I am. Very gay. You can probably also tell that I have a faerie obsession. Feel Free to ask any questions about my characters or stories, I might make individual posts to better showcase my characters because. I am in love with them all.

You can find some of these stories and more on my Wattpad at jrumpel702 :)

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #8- I’m Sorry, the Domain Name thebomb.com is Already in Use

It’s been a hot minute since we last got to focus on the Scavengers- ah, the chaotic nature of comic print schedules! Luckily, we’ve got a Story So Far to remind us where we left off.

Our issue starts 10,000 years in the past, where Fulcrum is riding in a plane and preparing to drop with his fellow K-Cons. It’s crowded, there’s a guy crying in the corner, everyone’s wearing the same outfit, and no one’s got time to go home and change. How embarrassing!

Torque’s never heard of personal space, as is made apparent by his power-stance pelvic thrusting here. Fulcrum is less than impressed by this show of bravado, but there’s no time to dwell on it because it’s time to jump the glory of Megatron.

At least one of them is having a good time.

In the present day, the Scavengers are freaking the hell out, because as it turns out, it’s THEM who’re afraid of the DJD.

Krok keeps trying to reach his old squad, as if anything short of Megatron himself would be able to save them from the horrible death coming their way, while Flywheels grapples with his faith and inferiority complex at the same time.

Spinister brings up a decent point, despite Misfire’s earlier claim that he’s the stupidest creature in the universe- Misfire is kind of an asshole, so anything he says involving just about anything should be taken with a grain of salt- but the problem is, nobody in their right mind would incriminate themselves to the DJD if they could help it. Also, everyone knows that Tarn’s got his head way too far up his own ass to have any sort of rhyme or reason for anything he does beyond the 𝕒𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕔.

Krok leans on his career as a military strategist to come up with a few ideas, and the boys decide to fight the DJD, after so much bitching and moaning.

But the DJD… the Decepticon Justice Division… are also Decepticons. Crankcase, are you gatekeeping here, my dude? Because I don’t think this is an internet debate you’re going to win.

The fellas decide that they’ll do what they do best, and use what’s been laying around in the dust and blood for thousands of years to fight off some of the scariest folks in the galaxy. What could possibly go wrong?

Over on the Lost Light, Chromedome and Skids are having a secret rendezvous at the oil reservoir, in secret and behind Rewind’s back, as Chromedome proceeds to call Skids handsome. No, they aren’t having a secret love affair, but are instead going to mnemosurgery the shit out of Skids. Rewind doesn’t like that Chromedome is still doing this, but what Rewind doesn’t know won’t hurt him, surely. We’ll find out just why exactly Rewind isn’t a fan of Chromedome’s line of work later on, but for now it’s time to dig around in a hot guy’s brain.

Just kidding, it’s Scavenger time.

The Scavengers have set up a trap for the DJD, and that trap is Grimlock; still locked in his stasis pod, they’re pulling a “rigged box and stick with a piece of cheese inside” maneuver. Let’s see how this plays out.

Hmm. That’s not a great start.

The Peaceful Tyranny lands, Tarn transforms, comes down the gangplank, transforms, waxes poetic about the brilliance of the Decepticon copy writers, transforms, drives 15 feet, transforms, then, after clearly stating that the big stasis pod in the middle of nowhere is a trap, opens it anyway.

Never has a nut-punch been more deserved than in this exact moment.

Grimlock has a strong start, but almost immediately begins to flag, as he’s put down by Tesaurus. This is why we do warmups prior to rigorous exercise, people!

Misfire tries to sneak off while Tarn’s distracted whispering into Grimlock’s ear like one would a lover, but that doesn’t really work out.

Back over on the Lost Light, Chromedome’s having a time and a half trying to parse just what the hell’s going on with Skid’s head. All his memories from the last year aren’t lost, but rather destroyed, which is concerning to say the least, only leaving a need to escape. There’s also some nasty beast in Skid’s more distant past that Chromedome can see. However, it would seem that Skid’s brain took the out when it saw one and buried that nightmare so deep it’ll take multiple sticks of dynamite to wiggle it loose, so Chromedome’s leaving it where it is.

What this tells me is that Rung has no business referring patients to Chromedome for treatment, if this is how we’re meant to handle repressed memories. Remember back in issue #6, when Fort Max claimed he didn’t remember what happened in Garrus 9, and Rung was all “oh let me just call my guy Chromedome and have him stir your brain around like a martini”? Turns out, either that’s a terrible idea and Rung hasn’t paid attention to the work that half his coworkers on Kimia were involved with, or he was making an empty threat, which doesn’t seem like great practice for a therapist.

Pretty fucked up of you, Rung.

Anyways, Skids is less than thrilled by this, and demands Chromedome do it anyway, which Chromedome promptly refuses. He’ll play around with his own life, but not his friends’. Skids walks off in a huff, because I guess no one’s ever refused his pretty ass anything before, but asks a question before he leaves.

Well, I’m sure that won’t be a major plot point later on.

Let’s check back in with the Scavengers.

Between Tesaurus’ line here, Tarn harassing Grimlock, and Skids’ asking Chromedome why he pulled out during their secret meeting, this is probably the most sexually-charged issue of MTMTE so far.

Flywheels’ only purpose as a character was so that Roberts had a stand-in for the word “fuck” last issue. Sorry, dude, you’ve done your job. Off to the shredder with you!

No time to worry about him, Krok, because it’s time for your face mask treatment at the universe’s shittiest spa.

The worst part about this is the fact that he’s being held a full nelson by the DJD’s record-keeper, who turns into a fucking chair and doesn’t even have eyes. Oh, the indignity of it all.

Misfire tries to save Krok, but all he manages to do is prove that his nickname isn’t ironic in the slightest. Then he’s attacked by a dog.

That shadow being tossed towards the horizon in the background is Crankcase, who lands right about where Fulcrum’s been hiding this entire time, like the giant coward he is, as he watches these guys who tried to steal his organs get murdered to death. He runs off, and Crankcase plays to stereotype and gripes about the whole situation, until he notices something above him.

Then he immediately drops dead, because as it turns out Misfire wasn’t exaggerating when he said Crankcase would die if he ever even thought about smiling.

Over in Tarn’s soliloquy corner, he’s managed to stab his thumb so hard into Grimlock’s throat it’s literally bleeding, as he trash talks the Scavengers, calling them the “six biggest failures of all”. Harsh. Grimlock’s not contributing to the diatribe, probably because there’s a hole in his throat that’s about where a trach would go.

Then Tarn has a bit of a problem, as he’s stepped on by a robot that’s roughly twenty times bigger than him.

I guess Crankcase must be the sixth worst Decepticon, because he’s gotten himself hooked up with this massive Jaeger Cybernought, one of the many that are strapped to the back of the Worldsweeper they found last issue. It’s a big friggin’ ship, we can forgive the oversight.

The DJD aren’t impressed by this new toy, and almost immediately take it down. Tarn, really starting to get peeved off about not getting to what they actually came here to do, yells for Fulcrum to show himself. Fulcrum, as it turns out, has managed to climb on top of the Worldsweeper, and is at least a few hundred feet above them. Because none of the DJD can fly, they have no choice but to listen to Fulcrum’s little speech.

Fulcrum was forged at the height of the Decepticon Empire, when the rhetoric was more “space eugenics sucks” and less “murder everything while Megatron has weird sexual tension with Optimus in the background”. Of course, they were still hunting organic species to flex, so maybe things weren’t perfect… though it isn’t like Fulcrum minded that aspect. Dude’s a little space racist.

Spacist.

The way Fulcrum sees it, folks like Tarn went and fucked up a good thing by being all murderous and violent just because they could, unlike his good pals the Scavengers, who are only murderous and violent when it’s necessary. “Necessary” is a word that’s played with kind of fast and loose with them, mind you, but they seem like pretty swell guys to Fulcrum. They’re definitely better than the DJD.

With one last “fuck you” to Tarn, Fulcrum takes a running leap off the top of this astonishingly huge ship and finally reveals just why exactly K-Cons aren’t known for doing fear.

Because who the fuck has ever asked a bomb how it’s feeling?

Everyone clears the area, as he hits the ground… and nothing happens. Fulcrum is marked off the List, the Scavengers are added, and the DJD fuck off without checking that their target is actually dead so they can go find Overlord and kick his ass.

Fulcrum’s fine, by the way.

This is why we check our work, Tarn.

Fulcrum, who is, again, a bomb, is a bit curious as to what’s happened here. Turns out, prior to the boys riffling through his torso for spare parts, Spinister- master surgeon Spinister- removed the explosive charge tucked up against his robot liver. Fulcrum is amazed by this news, because it’s apparently a super hard thing to do.

Are we sure that Spinister isn’t just super nearsighted? The world’s been described as a series of vaguely hostile shapes, is he playing it safe and attacking the things he can’t figure out within a few seconds? Maybe all that hand-staring he does is to gauge how shitty his vision is on a day to day basis, and everyone just assigned him Stupid At Birth because trying to understand our friends is for losers.

Then again, we should also remember that everyone in the Scavengers is so incredibly stupid, they couldn’t figure out between the five of them that Fulcrum had been alive while it was happening. Spinister probably wasn’t gentle with that procedure since he thought he was working with a corpse; for all we know, Fulcrum’s got his sparkcase inside-out now.

Crankcase carries poor, faceless Krok over, and Fulcrum laments on the fact that Krok’s squad never turned up. Crankcase implies something ominous about Krok’s method of communication with his old squadron, then we get the skinny on Fulcrum’s whole deal.

Yes, yes, I know B’lahr 39 is a reference to Wizard of Oz actor Bert Lahr, who played the Cowardly Lion. I caught that one before I’d even checked TFWiki for interesting notes on this issue. I was a film major in college, I’m legally required to know every single bit of trivia about the Wizard of Oz. It’s the second thing they beat into you, right after watching Citizen Kane for the 87th time.

Also, how many nerds are going to be in this series? Fulcrum’s a technician, Krok’s a strategist, Spinister and 3/4 of the Lost Light are doctors in some form or fashion, Tarn’s a friggin drama kid, the list goes on.

When Fulcrum was caught, the original plan was to have him tortured and killed at Styx, a  Decepticon penal colony, when plans changed and he got reformatted along with everyone else in the joint to be a suicide bomber.

If Fulcrum seems like a bit of a generic name for a giant space robot, it’s probably because it is. Fulcrum’s original alt-mode wasn’t a bomb- in fact, I have no idea what it’s meant to be. Word of God makes the claim that he turned into a leg prior to getting K-classed, but since Combiner teams have to be made in this continuity, that’s not what he came into being as. He’s got a tiddy window like Rung- something that will be more apparent when Josh Burcham is replaced by Joana Lafluente as the primary colorist for the comic run- but that seems more indicative of having minimal armor than any sort of alt.

Anyway, there’s something in the reformat to K-Con that compels one to switch to bomb mode when you jump ship- but it didn’t happen for Fulcrum, because he was so unbelievably terrified that he might have actually defied biology.

The others have stopped listening by this point, and have joined Spinister in poking the still-prone Grimlock with a stick. Misfire, in the first show of something like empathy we’ve really gotten from him, asks the fellas to help the poor guy up.

Sure, make the guy who’s a stiff breeze away from cracking in half lift the biggest motherfucker on this planet. Sounds like a plan.

Misfire does his damnedest to communicate to Grimlock that they come in peace.

Behold, the price of nostalgia!

This isn’t exactly where we left Grimlock last time he was in an IDW publishing. The last guy to have his hands on everyone’s favorite dinobot was Simon Furman, and he was a lot more well-spoken there. It would seem that no one got out of Garrus 9 unscathed.

This development is a bit of a problem for the Scavengers, who now aren’t quite sure what to do with a infamous warrior-bastard who’s mentally regressed to the point that he’s got to think about what his own name is. To be fair, most people wouldn’t know what to do in that sort of situation. Doesn’t help that the guy who usually has the braincell is currently passed out from face-based puncture trauma.

Misfire decides that they’ll take Grimlock along with them for collateral, and everyone is so impressed by him actually planning something out, they forget to think about the logistics of housing a whole entire T-Rex.

The guys, I guess just leaving Grimlock and the unconscious Krok in the dirt, go to find what’s left of Flywheels- basically the hips down is still intact. After a few kind words, the final rites are performed.

You will be missed, Flywheels, clearly.

You never see the Autobots resorting to cannibalism like this. Maybe they’re just better at making it not look like a vulture swarm.

Many, many months later, long after the Scavengers have left the planet of Clemency, a lone figure visits what’s left of dear Flywheels- it’s the Necrobot. That’s right, the Robo-Reaper is real, and it looks like he’s been busy.

…Spoilers, Necrobot! Come on!

After the story proper, we get a Meet the ‘Cons page. Let’s take a gander, shall we?

No.

NO.

NO!

I draw the line at this motherfucking sniper rifle having a college degree. What possible scientific field of study could he possibly-

It’s ballistics. He studied ballistics, didn’t he?

You know what? Fuck this, actually. See y’all later.

…Fuck you, Vos.

[coriandher]

Big thanks to @falloutfandomeventhub and @yesjejunus :D fun to do!

General

Name: Doctor Camille Ng

Aggression: Aggressive

Confidence: Brave

Assistance: Helps nobody

Karma: Evil

Location: Bitter Springs Medical Tent, Callville Bay if camp is massacred

How To Obtain: pass Perception check, spar her, or kill the camp

WARNING, further reading contains mentions of slavery and eugenics. The Vestalis usual

Companion Wheel

I think we should travel together: 

“Remember, natural selection will take out slow walkers.”

“Wacky adventures with the Mailman!”

Use Melee: 

“Promise you’ll cover me”

“(lightly humming Butcher Pete)- chopping that meat”

Use Ranged: 

“If I hit you, discount coupon on treatment”

“Their post mortem will be… ever seen a swiss cheese?”

Open Inventory: 

“Anything new you’ve got?”

“Hoarding is a disorder y’know”

Stay Close: 

“(mumble) -at least dinner first”

“Okie dokie”

Keep Distance: 

“Oh… did I do something wrong?” 

“But :( I thought you liked me…”

Stealth:  

“Lay low. Try to, yeah shh”

“Tiptoe-tiptoe”

Back Up: 

“Sorryyyy”

Be Passive: 

“Yeah yeah, peace, no war, ring around the rosies”

[If Under Attack] “Here?! Now? I’ll PASS on that!”

Be Aggressive: 

(cracks neck)

“Make way, medic coming through”

Use Stimpack: 

“Dosage correct?”

“It’s not spiked with anything right?”

“Where are you injecting?!”

Wait Here: 

“O..kay?”

“Like, stand still here?”

“Can I wander around at least?”

Follow Me: 

“Where did you go?”

“Yay :D It was getting boring”

“Continue adventure!”

Send to the Lucky 38: 

“Oh that fancy place. Take care out there!”

Send Home: 

[Bitter Springs] “Hope the Lt’s more reliable (sigh) Back to volunteer work”

[Callville Bay] “How fast do Cazadores hatch? I should make notes”

Injured: 

“Rookies think this is deep”

“Son of a- fuck”

“Stimpak, stimpak, stimpak!”

Death:

“Fucking kidding me- like this?”

“s’ fine….s’ lright”

Perks

[I’m A Healer, But] Camille gives pointers on where to most effectively strike opponents. Gain +15% critical hit damage bonus when she is in the party.

[Burn Forsooth] Your enemies can hurt you less if they die faster. Once per day, give her a melee weapon and she will upgrade it to have +10 damage per hit.

[Gone To Flowers] In the wasteland, always bring medical supplies with you. Once per day, she can give you 3 stimpaks or 1 Super Stimpak (Luck dependent)

Drops

Encrypted Notes - It has symbols and alphabets combined from different languages. It’s meant for someone. More than one?

Diadem - 10mm SMG with a faster reload time. The receiver is engraved and inlaid with silver.

Doctor’s Bag - A normal doctor’s bag, it drops a collar when used.

Recruitment

She’s treating refugees at Bitter Springs. Pass an [8 PERCEPTION] check pointing out that she doesn’t seem to be from around there. Camille scoffs and introduces herself, saying she’s obviously a Followers volunteer. She can be recruited, as she voluntarily went to the camp, thus she can ‘voluntarily leave as well.’

Failing the Perception check, there is an option to spar with her early every morning. Defeat her or last for a few minutes and then she can be recruited. If she wins, wait for another day.

The Bitter Springs Camp can also be massacred to recruit her. She’ll disappear from the camp if you open fire and once everyone is dead, she can be found chilling by the docks at Callville Bay. She can immediately be recruited.

Camille will not leave regardless of Karma leaning or chosen factions.

Personal Quest

 [Not All In Vein]

Spend enough time with her and new dialogues will unlock. Camille shares her outlook on life. It’s said in a joking tone, but it’s implied that she believes in philosophies such as social darwinism, slavery and eugenics. You can agree or disagree with her. Bring her to Vault 22, Primm, HELIOS One, The Thorn, Cottonwood Cove and the Fort.

Once her dialogue is exhausted, she will openly admit her ideology and share her background.

If the Courier has previously agreed with her, Camille will continue with the prejudiced reasoning. The perk gained is [Burn Forsooth].

If the Courier has disagreed with her, Camille will abandon her old ways and promises to look at life differently. The perk gained is [Gone To Flowers].

However, you can later tell her that you changed your mind, believing the vice versa. Camille will then leave you. If agreed-then disagreed with her, she will be at Legate’s Camp. If disagreed-then agreed with her, she will be at Mormon Fort. Camille can be spoken to, but not recruited.

Other Quests

[Et Tumor Brute?]

She can be asked to operate on Caesar. She will not be available as a companion for a day, but Caesar will survive and things can go as normal.

Alternatively she can be sold to Lucius. This will cause her to approach the Courier, berate them with ‘You could’ve just asked?!’. Camille will flee, shooting the guards. She can be killed at this time, but if she escapes the tent she disappears forever. The quest must be completed using different methods.

[Beyond The Beef]

Camille can be offered to Mortimer. She overhears and refuses, threatening to kill the entire casino. However with 800 caps she can pull some strings to supply the specific type of person Mortimer requires. After three days, speak to Mortimer again and find that the casino has received a man named Fraser for the banquet.

Ending Slides

If her personal quest is not completed, Camille will be known as a bigoted but talented doctor. This caused her to be ostracized by other medics and kicked out of the Followers of the Apocalypse. People still find her for health matters but it’s up to her to decide if they deserve to be treated or not.

If the Courier sides with Legion,

- [Burn Forsooth] is achieved, Camille marries a high ranked Legion officer. Her services as a doctor are only offered to ‘worthy’ Legionnaires. Shockingly, she has a voice in the misogynistic society, giving valuable input to optimize slavery operations. Her first contribution was to direct the military to conquer her old vault, and she personally coordinates the ‘sale and stock’ of her own family.

- [Gone To Flowers] is achieved, she continues to live in Legion controlled land as a travelling doctor. When the Followers were exiled / killed, she figured that the common people would still need medics around. Camille understands how Legion slavers operate, and would occasionally give tips to her patients. She never teams up with anyone anymore, knowing individuals are harder to target.

If the Courier sides with NCR,

- [Burn Forsooth] is achieved, she attempted to run a new slavery ring in the Republic, much underground than the previous Slavers Guild. Camille was successful for a time until a convicted politician exchanges her information for a shorter sentence. Camille was caught, jailed, then executed via hanging.

- [Gone To Flowers] is achieved, Camille starts a clinic in the Mojave. It is very well received with the local community, treating everyone from all walks of life. She wouldn’t charge patients that couldn’t afford it. There are unsettling rumours regarding her past, but nobody’s willing to speak up. Anyone who did open their mouths found that she is as likely to heal you as she is to stab you.

If the Courier sides with House,

- [Burn Forsooth] is achieved, she follows the retreat of the NCR back West, posing as a medic. While the Republic recovers from losing the military campaign, she re-established her old contacts. New Vegas thrives with the old world glory House wanted and Camille finds business in dealing with the Three Families, particularly in the less seemly side of the neon lights. The Omertas is her most loyal client, finding new ‘talents’ in resources she sends over. Camille remains with her old vault’s doctrine, ‘Everything has worth’. 

- [Gone To Flowers] is achieved, Camille negotiates with House’s forces to allow the Followers of the Apocalypse to be left alone. Instead, House decided that the faction can occupy the now abandoned NCR Embassy in exchange for loyalty and an imposed medical tax. Many of the Followers, most prominently Julie Farkas had disagreed, believing it goes against their philosophy. The group left Freeside to find a new base of operations in the Mojave. However, a splinter group lead by Camille emerged, settling with House’s proposition knowing that their facilities and funds will be considerably improved.

If the Courier makes New Vegas independent,

- [Burn Forsooth] is achieved, civilians sometimes go missing without a trace. People who disappeared are usually attractive, well-behaved with no enemies and most of all- healthy. Addicts, drunks and troublemakers are left untouched. The local community banded together to investigate and avoid future abductions, but in the end nobody’s convicted. Without a task force capable enough to uncover her new operations, Camille founded a new Slavers Guild underneath Sin City.

- [Gone To Flowers] is achieved, her presence stabilizes the overrun Mormon Fort. Camille became Julie Farkas’ advisor, helping to organize the Followers better. She has the connections and the resolution to keep the faction afloat. Members are encouraged to take in apprentices to grow their numbers. Working side by side for so long, Camille began a relationship with Julie. The Followers of The Apocalypse gained notoriety and respect with the community, cementing their influence.