#and once i let go of other people's treatment of me as the lens through which i view myself

[dr-gaytorius]

so when i was a teen i was like, very alt, very punk, like eyeball-deep in the local music scene (this would continue for the next decade), i was NOT a scholar by any stretch and quite frankly hated academics. and my friend introduced me to this band and it ended up being one of my favorites for years.

well i was talking to my friend who's into a bad that was big back in that day and i was like ahhh yes.... i remember those days.... neon and crust and studded leather.... and i listed off some bands, and remembered that one i had liked for so long. i went and looked it up and spotted the album i remembered the most, and gave it a listen and well

it would seem ive always been this way. apparently

[lunamond]

I want to preface this with the disclaimer that I really like Rheanyra. This is not meant as a way to bash her character or minimise the way she, as a woman in Westeros, has been harmed and discriminated against.

However, I have a lot of trouble with how Rheanyra, especially in relation to Alicent, has been discussed in the fandom, for that purpose I will analyse young Rheanyra and focus on her personal flaws (sth that I consider essential to good characterisation).

There is a big trend for audiences to latch onto a favourite character and perceive the entire story through that lens. Everything that benefits this singular character is good everything that inconveniences them is bad. (This is of course is not an issue exclusive to hotd)

As side note: I don’t think this is necessary a problematic way to engage with media, as long as you're capable of recognising that other people will engage differently nor prescribe moral value to real life people based on who they chose to root for.

However, once you start analysing the show critically this method starts becoming very flawed. Alicent as a character especially suffers a lot in these interpretations.

(This does also go in the other direction as well, with people twisting the story in way to bash Rheanyra in favour of Alicent)

It is baffling to me at times, looking at the distorted way some people engage with young Alicent and Rheanyra, and this weird need to portray Alicent as villanous or scheming from the very beginning.

(While I personally love Alicent as character young and grown-up, I'm aware that she, especially as an adult, doesn’t appeal to everybody, which is why I focus for this on young Alicent)

So, let's actually look at the first 3 Episodes and analyse Alicent and Rheanyra's relationship.

Episode 1: Alicent and Rheanyra are totally in love best friends. Rheanyra is the more impulsive one who doesn't always like the duties that come with her status as princess, while Alicent is the more anxious one who cares a lot about her and Rheanyra's responsibilities.

This is ultimately the last time Alicent and Rheanyra were on good terms, without anything standing between them. So both their perception of each other will always be coloured by this prior relationship and the intimate understanding they had of each other when they were still 14 years old.

Episode 2: Alicent has been ordered to keep her inappropriate meetings with the king a secret, Rheanyra is starting to feel the pressure of being the heir. At the end, the betrothal is announced, which ultimately leads to the break up of their prior relationship.

Episode 3: Their relationship has been in shambles for almost 3 years at this point. (Aegon's 2nd name day + 9 months pregnancy + whatever length of time passed between Ep2, the wedding and the start of the pregnancy)

Alicent repeatedly makes overtures to Rheanyra in an attempt to repair their relationship, which Rheanyra continuously shots down (sth that presumably has happened multiple times over the last years).

It also bears mention that even in moments when Rheanyra is not present Alicent still defends Rheanyra's claim to the throne. She does this both in private, as well as publicly.

This is one of those situations that perfectly demonstrate Rheanyra's character flaws.

While this is a very difficult situation to navigate from Rheanyra's position, her former girlfriend, who has now become her stepmother has given birth to a son who puts her own position into question.

She also is slowly growing up and becoming increasingly aware of the reality of what the expected role of a young noble women means in her society.

This is a lot of stress for a teenage girl to deal with, and you know what, I get it.

As a teenager, I personally have been quite unpleasant to be around in much less stressful situations.

However, as far as her treatment of Alicent goes, this is where a lot of my sympathy ends, because no matter what your personal opinion on adult Alicent and her actions might be, THIS Alicent has done none of these.

Alicent is a childbride, who has been martially raped, and put through teenage pregnancy (twice at this point!).

By cutting her off for this, Rheanyra is essentially punishing the victim of her father’s crime.

It is pretty clear that she redirects the hurt and betrayal she feels onto Alicent, because ultimately in the context that both of them grew up Alicent is the easier party to blame.

Rheanyra is definitely not on great terms with Viserys either, however she is still willing to engage with him.

So, yes, Rheanyra is isolated and feels lonely. She tells Viserys that:

"Nobody is here for me"

But she is actually wrong.

Alicent is there for her.

Alicent repeatedly tries to connect with her. She supports Rheanyra, she does so when they are with lady Redwyne, she pushes back against Otto's attempts to push Aegon as heir, she talks with Viserys ensuring that Rheanyra will have the free choice for her future consort.

It is especially ironic, when this last act becomes part of the reason Rheanyra and Viserys reconcile at the end of the episode, while Alicent remains estranged.

It is also quite interesting, how Rheanyra refers to Aegon as Alicent Hightower's son, essentially distancing herself from both of them. Further illustrating the way in which she is completely unwilling to engage with either of them.

Despite this little bit of agency afforded to Rheanyra, she is still expected to take a husband and bear children. This is of course, especially traumatic for her considering her mother's fate.

However, every single girl born to a noble family in Westeros lives under these same unfair conditions, including Alicent.

Rheanyra and Alicent actually do have quite a lot of parallels, both being young girls who feel alone and isolated at court, both their mothers dead and both having complicated relationships with their fathers.

And while it is not enough to free her from these restraints this misogynistic society placed on her, Rheanyra occupies a very privileged position.

She is royalty, a literal princess who has the distinct advantage of being named heir to the throne and future ruler of the the 7 kingdoms.

(Viserys did do a pisspoor job of actually preparing and supporting her for this role, though)

The most glaring embodiment of Rheanyra's privilege however is Syrax.

She has a literal flying weapon of mass destruction at her beck and call.

A privilege no other non-Targaryen noble women has. (Except for Laena)

So, yes, Rheanyra is still subject to misogyny, but Syrax provides her with a certain level of security no one else can claim, because if it is ever necessary she will always be able to relie on a show of force via dragon (which we see demonstrated in ep2).

All of this reveals the inherent tragedy that is at the core of the narrative.

Alicent and Rheanyra are both condemned to the same fate. They both are forced into marriage/s and the role of motherhood, they are robbed of their girlhood, lost their mothers and were subject to their father's whims, and ultimately in history both will be relegated to the role of mother and wife to much more important men.

Rheanyra struggled and fought against unequal traditions to hold the highest position of power anybody (men or woman) could hold, but still she falls victim to the patriarchy.

Alicent who does her duty, plays by the system and rises to the highest position acceptable for a woman to hold, being the mother to a male heir, will still ultimately be torn down by the patriarchy.

This is the only fate any woman can expect in the patriachical system that exists in Westeros, no matter how pious or rebellious she was.

But the most tragic part in all of this is the fact that, despite their shared plight Rheanyra and Alicent's relationship had to be sacrificed for the sake of this senseless struggle instead of allowing them the comfort of each other.

[nelfes]

9 and 10 violence ask game for Tales of Legendia

9. worst part of canon (aka wow this got long we will do the fanon one later)

Tales.of Legendia worst part of canon

Yes it took me a year to do this but I had to fit into my “looking at media through on a non biased lens” outfit on, you know how it is - esp w/ with blorbos and comfort media.

But I have many thoughts, several I've talked about before so let's go!!!

The one I've talked about before: and honestly a source of confusion for fandom I honestly can't fault them for - the conflation of Shirley’s romantic feelings for Senel and her care for Orerines as a whole

The ending of the main quest is beautiful, my favorite Tales of cutscene, and deeply symbolic. However!!! In terms of story telling? It simply does not work and leaves much to be desired

We have just found out that Maurits is not like Vaclav at all - taking the Legacy by force to endanger and conquer other nations; instead he is taking back a weapon of war that was used against his people as a tool of oppression. You, Senel and the party, are the aliens and invaders and have been all along. Shirley asks a pertinent question when she realizes this and for the first time in the entire game is given a choice in her actions with the assurance Senel believes she will arrive at a decision correct for her 

Call me whatever you like. But I won't let you kill these people [...] I understand now. Some people hate. Some forgive. So what should I do? What do I want to do? 

(I trust these people! I believe in the tomorrow that we build together! They have offered their hand, and I intend to accept it.)

It's a beautiful speech and one Go Tanaka most associates with Shirley’s character for good reason. Even after seeing the extent of the brutality and ugliness of the Orerines Shirley still tells Maurits she believes she can stop their cycle of hate and steps down from her role as his and their gods’ chief executioner.

But this has all hinged on Senel’s big declaration, one he only makes once Chloe&co convince him that staying away from Shirley after she’s told him she loves him is cowardly. Especially because his excuse is “my dead ex gf will be sad, her ghost told me ):”

His declaration to Shirley is that he trusts her and will no longer push aside her words of feeling as he has done for so long. It is the core of their conflict which reaches beyond the Senel-Stella-Shirley love triangle, and that is communication. Stella and Senel as her older guardians always hid things from her (like Senel’s past as a spy) and that is what causes her to snap, that the people who she treasures refuse to ever truly let her in.

But that doesn’t erase the romantic angle to Senel and Shirley’s reunion, and the Rite of Feriyen only exacerbates that issue as it’s introduced as a Ferines marriage ceremony. Sure, Tanaka meant for the final scene where the water lights up to be Nerifes accepting Shirley’s decision to co-exist with all the Orerines, but it’s emphasis on she and Senel holding hands muddles the issue.

The manga does this much better with the Ferines actively participating in the final fight and being horrified by the monstrous transformation of Nerifes!Maurits. In general, while removing much of the nuances to the Senel-Stella-Shirley drama the manga is incredibly respectful and empathetic toward the plight of the Ferines. Even Maurits. Walter's death, though bloodier, is meant to emphasize the terrible situation he was in as a child soldier and the scenes of Vaclav's torture are handled with care as are Fenimore's scars.

2. Let's talk Ferines

I honestly do not feel qualified to tackle this subject fully as it hinges on the treatment of indigenous people forcibly taken from their land and imprisoned. But that's the thing. That's an integral part of the Tales of Legendia universe - that is why the Legacy itself exists.

And as expected there's much good and bad with the portrayal here.

I think the Character Quest Interlude fail here, fail Thyra in general but that's an entirely different rant (gods the disparity between Fenimore and Thya I am soOOO). The Ferines in the aftermath of the Main Quest are no longer being shipped around in military facilities but neither do they have sovereignty or even a land, and it is a real shame that Shirley does not have to deal with that considering home/belonging is such an integral part of her character. This is such a missed opportunity.

Going to end this here until I have more/better researched things to say (I am a white anthropology student, my ideas really aren't game changing) but I think it's worth noting that the Ferines architecture seems clearly influenced by Ryukyu island culture. I think it's worth noting how Japan treats that culture.

[kobakova]

Dragon Age and how it addresses oppression

ok so disclaimer this is not the rewrite of the Elven pantheon (the thing I keep promising I know I’m terrible) however it is an introduction to it and basically the reason why I feel the need to rewrite it in the first place! It’s a bit wordy, but I hope you take the time to read through it, as it took a lot of time and effort and I would super appreciate it! Today I stumbled upon a tik tok that was discussing how DA handles oppression and it motivated me to create a post about how I believe the way DA handles it is problematic at its core. I am not going to link the tik tok, as the creator has asked not to be put on blast, though I am including a word for word transcription of what the creator has said to avoid altering or skewing their message. I want to add that this is not an attack on the creator and what they said, more importantly it is an analysis of how other players perceive the oppression addressed within the game and how that proves that there is a serious problem with how DA handles it.

It is evident to me the message Dragon Age is trying to express is that oppression HAS to happen and that there is a reason to oppress. There are many examples within the game that prove this statement, though I want to focus mainly on how oppression impacts the mages and the Dalish, and how you as the main character can choose to perpetuate that oppression. To begin, here is the transcription of the tik tok below, which addresses oppression through the treatment of the mages.

“When it comes to mages, dragon age gives us a very clear picture that yes, these are people, they have hopes they have dreams they want to do better for themselves, they want to help others, we see this very clearly especially in DA2 where the whole plot revolves around mages rebelling. However, we also see very clearly in DA2 what can happen when a mage is left unchecked. Abominations, blood magic, the ability to force ones will onto somebody is a real threat with mages. Whether they succumbed to blood magic, whether they succumbed to the temptations of demons. These are unique challenges that face mages. And whether or not they should have freedom is true. And the game even gives us an amazing depiction of what could happen through Tevinter mages. What happens if mages are truly released, they have freedom. They might turn out like the Tevinters. Mages can become the ones solely on top oppressing other groups. A situation of the minority suppressing the majority. Whereas all the other lands of Thedas it’s the majority oppressing the minority. We have to grapple with these choices, whether not you kill a blood mage or you let them live. Or whether not you side with the mage rebellion or you side with the templars in DA2. It doesn’t pretend like it’s easy, and it doesn’t pretend to be something that it’s not. It doesn’t pretend to be real life. It gives unique challenges and unique decisions.”

My problem with DA is that you make choices through the role of an oppressor, which is very clear within Dragon Age: Inquisition as your rise to power then gives you the choice to oppress. The transcription above proves that a player has to make their decisions through the lens of an oppressor because you can determine the freedom or oppression of other people, in this case, the mages. Oppression cannot be a tool used for good because it is inherently bad, it only belittles others and is used to gain power. This could be a valuable lesson on how once power is gained so then is the ability to oppress, and how with the responsibility of power you should make choices based on what is best for the people who are oppressed. However, Bioware fails to follow through with this message for the sake of keeping their game morally grey. Instead, Bioware creates reasons and excuses for certain groups to be oppressed, thus making it okay for the player to make a decision that oppresses because either within their history something bad happened or there are certain people within the group that have done bad things. For example, all blood mages are considered evil due to some mages using blood magic in order to oppress and harm. However, we see in the game that not all blood mages are evil, and use blood magic to help. Despite this, all who use blood magic are deemed evil and if used, even if it means they are trying to escape an oppressive system, they will become Tranquil. When addressing Tevinter mages it’s evident that they have gained power, however they have chosen to oppress with this power. Being born with the ability to use magic is having the ability to gain power over another, but it is up to the individual to use that power to oppress or to use it to assist others. The ability to use magic itself is not an oppressive tool, because it has the ability to do good, it is the decisions of the individual that make it oppressive if the person decides to be an oppressor. If Bioware wasn’t so adamant about keeping the game morally grey, then they would’ve had an opportunity to create really interesting and important lessons on power and oppression that would better reflect our political landscape.

Now I want to move onto the Dalish, because I have a serious issue with how Bioware addresses the oppression they face and I believe it is important to mention. As stated above, Bioware chooses to ignore the dismantling of oppression, and instead creates reasons in order  to excuse the oppression of a group simply due to the fact that no group is perfect and they all have their issues. This is evident within the Trespasser DLC when discovering the true nature of the elven gods, which I will paste below:

!! Warning: spoilers ahead !!

“Following the initial events of the Exalted Council, the Inquisitor uncovers the reality that the Elven Gods were in fact phenomenally powerful mages who rose in prominence after the end of an unknown war. Solas implies that the Evanuris started out as generals during the war, then respected elders, and finally were revered as gods. They started out as heroes of the famed war eventually becoming corrupt tyrants in order to hoard and maintain their own power. The Evanuris institutionalized a system of slavery using Vallaslin as a brand, with only Fen'Harel (and more subtly, Mythal) challenging their tyranny. Most of the gods were arrogant in their ways, their power and attitudes more akin to the Tevinter Magisters. Eventually, the other Evanuris plotted against Mythal and killed her, prompting Fen'Harel to lead a rebellion against them and later creating the Veil to banish them into the Beyond,”

(https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Elven_pantheon).

From what I’ve seen, little is known about the Elven Pantheon before Dragon Age: Inquisition and the discovery that the elven gods are actually powerful mages is only represented within the Trespasser DLC. Though I have learned later that this was always the plan for the Elven Pantheon, which was to expose the gods for being tyrants who enslaved their own kind. It is clear that Bioware took inspiration from Native tribes to then create the Dalish elves (even within the name, since there is the Salish Kootenai tribe and Bioware literally just switched the first letter) and this is why I have a major issue with how they chose to handle the oppression that the Dalish are impacted by. Throughout the Dragon Age games, we see the torment that the Dalish suffer through from name calling to the complete erasure of the elven race; Bioware even goes as far as to take significant historical events like the Trail of Tears and write them into the elven history. This is why the Trespasser DLC angers me, because after all you learn about the Dalish and what is done to oppress them, it almost seems brushed off after it is exposed that the elven gods were similar to Tevinter mages. This type of message has real world implications, and can impact how people perceive Native people. Within my own experience as a Native person, I’ve had people argue to me that the oppression Native people face has reason because we have also owned slaves which is COMPLETELY untrue. I was shocked to see this exact reason be integrated into the Trespasser DLC, and it worries me because some players will see that and find it perfectly rational to think that because of the Dalish’s history it is then okay that they were oppressed. Throughout history, America and other countries that have oppressed Native and Indigeous people have created excuses and reasons to oppress them (from excuses like we are s*vages that need to be educated, to reasons like the Manifest Destiny). Therefore, it is incredibly harmful that Bioware would use the same type of reasoning not only for the Dalish but for the mages and the Qunari as well. Finding a reason to oppress a group does not create progressive change, it only divides us and keeps the oppressed groups oppressed and keeps the oppressors in power. Bioware needs to change how they approach oppression, and instead actually teach players the tools needed in order to dismantle oppression. 

I hope to be able to change how the Dalish are perceived, and show through my rewrite of the elven pantheon and also rewrites of missions involving the Dalish how to dismantle oppression through the choices and involvement of the inquisitor. I thank you all for taking the time to read and if there are any questions please don’t be afraid to ask!

[land-of-brains-and-chocolate]

Rec list for Eddie and Symby being vaguely to very gay?

I'm sorry for coming to you with my monsterfucker agenda 😔👊 (no I'm not)

i mean, i probably could’ve seen this coming.

venom is dominated by two opposing narratives. let’s call this the “relationship narrative” and the “control narrative”. they’re not perfectly separated, like, you’ll definitely get elements of one in the other, but generally one of them describes what the story, at its core, is using the symbiote for.

now comics are an endless tug-of-war at the best of times, much less the gayest and slimiest of times. there’s a neverending backlash and backbacklash going on between these two takes. what you want is the relationship narrative.

everything very much started out with that take. eddie and the symbiote are two characters who forge an evil alliance because it lets them do what they wanna do (kill spider-man, more or less) and they have the same kinds of neuroses and complexes and syndromes. lots of early comics are also very fun about the merged consciousness, merged identity deal. that’s kind of the textbook relationship stuff.

personally i absolutely think the original stories (venom was created by david michelinie) have romantic undertones, even starting in the villainy days. eddie describes their first meeting as “a shadow moved, caressed me.” he takes the rejection of the symbiote still being “in love with” spider-man really hard. he sobs his eyes out when he thinks it’s dead and promises to avenge it bare-handed. they totally expect to live happily ever after on a deserted island together.

then there’s venom: lethal protector, which is cute on its own, but if you’re reading for slime romance, i very specifically recommend the novelisation. i won’t even spoil it. and then, planet of the symbiotes is the first comic that i would say has outright queer themes, intentional or not.

so all those recs until now are collected in this post.

we're trucking along through the 90s, we explore elements of one take and then the other and sometimes we ignore the symbiote completely, but not too much changes, overall. the next BIG stop in Gay Venom is, of course, the hunger.

miniseries by len kaminski, just venom: the hunger. plenty of people have written their essays on it, but what’s always important to me is that it DID NOT come out of nowhere. as said above, it expanded on themes that were there, it references michelinie venom very explicitly, like you get your SECOND “tenderly touching the green glass tube” scene.

but yes this one is specifically about, like, stigmatisation, otherness, mental illness, meeting all those things with care and empathy and optimism, tentacle sex. again, many essays. a venom comic that can go “look at the twisted deviance of this relationship” and then turn it around into “but how are you looking at it” is good. god how good would it be if they also did that to eddie more. anyway.

a few years later you get the first MAJOR fucking backlash, culminating in the SECOND story titled the hunger. spectacular spider-man: the hunger, from 2003. completely reboots venom and retcons their motivations and backstories, makes very spiteful references to planet of the symbiotes and the hunger, like it is not also called that by sheer coincidence. literally starts out, in a comic that wants to tackle and redefine venom, with the line “the PROBLEM is that you guys are like an old married couple”. so the new status quo is that the symbiote only ever used eddie to be with spider-man, and eddie only ever used the symbiote to not die of cancer.

the “control narrative” that really kicks in here uses the symbiote as, you know, a thing to control, eddie’s demons personified or even a completely foreign force to torment him. if eddie is evil, it’s not because of what he thinks and believes and wants, it’s because he couldn’t control the symbiote and gave in to its inexplicable bloodlust.

this is an unambiguous downgrade in terms of complexity, in my humble opinion, completely fucks up eddie’s responsibility themes, and is also a pretty clearly petty reaction to venom’s absolute oversaturation in the nineties. the bitch was everywhere and most of it wasn’t good. so there was LOTS of “look at this creepy loser” content by writers cringing themselves into self-awareness at the time. the 00s were going to be GRITTY and MATURE.

this of course means that we get to see eddie slit his wrists and bleed to death on panel after selling the symbiote to supervillains as an attempted act of redemption???

wild fucking times! it’s not exactly worth recommending as ~shippy~, but the first real backbacklash to this first round of retcons comes from dan slott, who just kind of ignores it all in new ways to die. drags eddie back to the land of the living and relevant, makes the symbiote refuse to let its new host kill him, telling that host, and reestablishing, that it loves eddie. and then, to keep him living and relevant, slott makes eddie anti-venom.

don’t even worry about it. anti-venom is essentially eddie seeking redemption with symbiote powers, but without the symbiote, except he pretty much acts no fucking different at all, just keeps on being a murderous vigilante with cracked ideas about innocence and guilt. people still act like he’s better now because, in its metatextual ways, the hunger was right.

then fucking uuuuuuhhhhhhh. agent venom. symbiote goes to flash thompson and the us military, and the writer, rick remender, goes really, really, really hard on the control narrative. the symbiote becomes a substance flash is addicted to, gives a voice to his past abuse, it’s dark times all the times.

people very much do like that narrative for flash, like at least from that perspective it was worth it. i don’t like it much for the symbiote. for the symbiote, representing everything fucked up with flash and forcing him to murder kill bite all the time is resolved via the good guy avengers literally lobotomising it so flash can wear it without further resistance or input. imagine doing that to a human person. you’re uncooperative so we’re gonna turn off your higher cognitive functions and wear you like a meat suit. happy ending for everybody! truly we’ve conquered our demons this day.

then! at the same time, there’s a cartoon coming out, it’s called ultimate spider-man. THAT one does the control narrative take with harry osborn, but then does the relationship take with flash, making it the only cartoon to outright redeem the symbiote and let it find friendship and be valued as a person.

and people loved it! so brian michael bendis gets it in his head that he’s going to redeem the symbiote and make it partner up with flash. and he does redeem it by the highly fucking questionable means of having it be “cleansed”, aka brainwashed and relieved of its memories and personality. not that it matters for long. nothing fucking matters in comics. take this with you if it’s the only thing.

so then for fun friendship times you get venom: space knight, flash and the symbiote’s adventures in space! and then that gets cancelled. eddie is off somewhere being toxin and hunting carnage (2016). many good comics but you did not ask for them.

and THEN.

it is time for the next MOTHER of backlashes.

flash gets literally discarded at fucking roadside to put the symbiote back on eddie and turn back time on their relationship to RIGHT before the FIRST backlash happened. you know, all those 2003 retcons. gone. ignored. no more. venom’s themes are now those circa 1996 again. full fucking on relationship narrative. ROMANTIC relationship narrative, and that after the symbiote was turned into eddie’s evil shadow, after he hated it and spent a LONG time seeking to eradicate all symbiotes (and not even for the first time).

the COSTA run. venom (2016). reviled and beloved.

like this comic is fucking ANGRY about symbiote treatment. i HAD to tell you all of that so you’d understand ANYTHING it’s doing. the first thing it does is flip it completely around, puts the symbiote on a military guy who’s making IT do bad things, makes his ability to control it horrifying and abusive instead of heroic and admirable. one of the later things it does (in the follow-up venom: first host) is outright feature a villain who lobotomises symbiotes, ending on a symbiote serving him swift and sweet payback by doing the same thing TO HIM. it’s exactly as unsubtle as the hunger (2003) was about its hang-ups.

comics... are a conversation.

flash remains a symbiote friend but still got fucked over big time by it all, symbiote-focused writers slott and costa also kind of use him to literally, in case anybody hadn’t caught on, literally spell out the REAL story that’s been going on in the writer's room for the past THIRTY YEARS:

you’ll notice i didn’t actually list any of the Gay Shit for you, you’ve probably already seen it or you’ll get to see it for yourself. yes, they are deeply in love, yes, it’s fucked up and flawed, yes, it is real and taken seriously and has ultimately redeeming potential. yes the concept of that nearly knocked me off my feet and in front of the subway at one point. yes there’s mpreg

it’s also fucking riddled with events, which spin off into other comics, so either ignore those and rely on the recaps OR click yourself forward through the “next issue (story)” button on marvel wikia to know what to read.

and after that must of course come the backbackbacklash, as certain as death or taxes. in the next run, we retcon everything once more, eddie just needs to control his darkness, the symbiote was an evil abuser all along, nothing on earth is ever new.

i’m not gonna go through it, i’m just gonna point you to the backbackbackbacklash issue that came out during this time: venom annual volume 2 number 1 - it’s confusingly named, it’s the one that has a blue-skinned space lady on it. this one ignores the backbackbacklash going on very pointedly and goes “it’s not ABOUT control” again, it’s pretty explicitly romantic.

and then there’s also marvel comics presents (2019) #5, which, oddly enough, does not particularly feature the characterisation you’d typically see in the relationship narrative? but it does feature eddie and the symbiote literally fucking, so you’d want to know about it.

that’s the overall, like, frame of eddie and the symbiote being in a relationship (nuh uh) (yeah they are) (NUH UH) (YEAH THEY ARE)

some stuff that’s smaller but still notable, uh.

nova (1999) 6 - 7, that’s the “we’re space married”

venom: dark origin, that’s an ALTERNATE (!!!) take on the character, don’t expect a likeable eddie but it’s very darkly funny and gay so what can i say.

venom: the end, which i would absolutely fucking hate to be canon, i think its characterisation is quite regressive, but the symbiote sure is in love, i guess.

venom: separation anxiety, the dawn of the control narrative but eddie’s characterisation did not have to go so wrong from here, like if they’d just figured out AT THIS STAGE that he's STILL acting like venom without it... i digress. it has the symbiote going eddie eddie eddieee

venom: sinner takes all, this is the first she-venom comic so that’s. hm. interesting. healing symbiote blanket

don’t read venom: license to kill just look at this panel with me

if i think of more comics worth adding i’ll add them.

the subtext slash text is heavy enough to be present to some degree in literally every cartoon adaptation of eddie brock. spider-man: the animated series goes FULL control narrative, in fact it started the “the symbiote corrupted peter” take that we to this day cannot escape, but the first few venom episodes are VERY playful about their relationship.

in spectacular spider-man it’s canon, but horrible. eddie’s in love with it, but eddie's a good boy and the symbiote is played very, very, very abusively. i think this is an evil symbiote adaptation that works well enough, at least it’s an actual meaningful character instead of just a malevolent force to resist.

in marvel’s spider-man, the only venom episode worth watching is venom returns.

i’ve actually got every symbiote-relevant episode listed right here from when we did our communal watch-through.

also watch truth in journalism. idk if it’s exactly shippy just do it

[lucysometimeswrites]

SUBMISSION: Prompt 1,20,29 from the Disney song list with Harry Holland ( I’m interested to see how this goes)

DUDE i am so sorry this took SOOOOO long but i hadn't had time for it and i didn't wanna just give you something rushed so anyway i hope you like it!

1. Please don’t shut me out again, please don’t slam the door.

20. Go on and kiss the girl.

29. Barely even friends, then somebody bends, unexpectedly

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

“God, that’s disgusting”, you grimaced at the newly-formed couple who was making out in the living room. The Holland’s living room, to be precise. Harry and you had been friends for a while, close enough to be invited to get-togethers and random drinking evenings. This was one of those evenings, where everyone wanted to unwind and have a good laugh to inaugurate the weekend, and Harry offered the perfect way to do that.

I mean, free booze, the guy you liked, and good music? How could you say no?

You and Harry had hit it off quite quickly after first meeting a few years ago, through mutual friends. You had a lot of similar interests, same sort of humour, and even in the things you thought differently on, you learned to like for the other. He was an absolute dream. Everyone saw it, too. They secretly hoped you’d get together soon, and already assumed something happened between the two of you but, alas, here you were. Angry at life and that innocent couple in the living room because of the stupid, lovey-dovey thoughts that just wouldn’t go away.

“Why the long face?” Harry asked with a chuckle as he entered the kitchen, stopping beside you and turning to look where your angry stare was headed.

You nodded towards the living room, and answered, “Them. Like, can you not do it in front of my face, please?”

“But you’re all the way here in the kitchen?” he said, confused.

“Shut up” you ended, giving a big swig of your cup. A silence made itself at home between you too, not necessarily uncomfortable as you would expect, but a little suffocating. You became self-conscious about every move you made, hating how the curly-headed boy could turn you into a mess with just his presence.

“I think it’s cute” he shrugged, breaking the silence.

“They’re barely even friends, then somebody bends, unexpectedly. Ha, what a joke” you challenged.

The quiet settled again and you didn’t notice, but Harry side-eyed you while a million thought ran through his mind. He remembered that one night where you found yourselves in a similar situation. Both drunk off your asses and looking at the world through a pink lens, you shared an intimate kiss just weeks after meeting each other. He also remembered how, after trying to talk about it with you, you shut him out and didn’t speak to him for an entire two weeks. It was after promising he’d never bring it up again that you ended the silent treatment, much to his delight.

As the night went on, you kept going into the kitchen for more drink refills, feeling a little tipsy. The people, getting rowdier and nastier, went on to find the darkest spots in the house for their shenanigans, and you were so distracted that you didn’t even realize when you were dragged to a circle that formed in the living room. The announcement that the classic “Spin The Bottle” game was about to be played was made and yup, cue the eye roll.

A bunch of rounds went by with no one you actually cared to remember the name of getting their turn, until the guy who looked a little to drunk to be managing the game yelled,

“Harry! My boy! Your turn to snog one of these lucky ladies here tonight” he motioned to the girls sitting around the circle, who all bit their lips or looked down in embarrassment.

“Snog? Shut up, mate,” the red-head answered and confidently spun the bottle.

You held your breath and did not tear your eyes from it, the stupid thing seeming to spin for ages until it slowly came to a stop.

Pointing at you.

Of course it’s me, you thought as you closed your eyes, damning every single power in the universe. When you opened them, Harry was intently staring at you, as if studying any movement you might make and trying to figure out what was going through your head. In response, you got on your knees and lightly slapped you hands on your thighs, showing you were ready. He didn’t move an inch, still analyzing your face. Harry knew this was thin ice he was treading on—one wrong move and everything would go to shit. He was dying to press his lips on yours, even if it was just a game, but the memories from a few weeks back flooded his mind and—

“C’mon mate! Go on and kiss the girl!” the guy from earlier encouraged.

Well, why the fuck not?, you both thought at the same time.

Harry crawled to you and you met him halfway, lips clashing with force and desire. His hand made its way to cradle your cheek and part of your neck, guiding the kiss and making you melt into a puddle instantly. Your mouth opened a little more, letting him kiss you deeper and hungrier like no one has ever before. It was absolutely everything you had ever wanted.

And it was everything you couldn’t have.

Parting your lips with your hands on his chest, you felt tears well up in your eyes, and whispered for only you and him to hear,

“This is why the fuck not”

You hurriedly got up as everyone cheered and hooted after the heated show they saw, quickly glancing at Harry but rushing towards the upstairs bathroom.

“Please! Y/N, wait!

Hearing a faint call of your name and footsteps catching up to you, you almost ran for the room you deemed safe. Before going in, however, Harry’s voice made you stop in your tracks.

“Please, please. Please don’t shut me out again, please don’t slam the door”, he begged.

You felt his presence a few feet behind you, the dark hallway only aiding in the tense atmosphere that surrounded you. Not daring to move an inch, the only thing you could do was stare ahead at the shower curtain, your mind going a thousand miles a minute on how anything that happened in the next few moments could make or break you.

A pair of warm, shaky hands found their place on your shoulders, making you tense and then relax as they carefully and lovingly caressed their way down your arms. You felt the ghost of his chest against your back, his breath fanning on your neck and you closed your eyes, savouring the moment but dreading having to face him and look him in the eye. Gently, he grabbed your elbows and turned you to him, still very close to you.

In all honesty, Harry did not have a plan. He ran after you because there was no way he was letting you get away once more, but now that he caught up to you and had you so close to him, he had no clue what to do. His mind had gone blank, the only thing filling it was the image of you. You, whom he had shared so many memories with. You, with the beautiful laugh and crinkly eyes that brought butterflies to his chest every time. You, who never failed to bring happiness into his life, even if you weren’t on the best terms. You, whom he loved so much.

Leaning his forehead against yours, he quietly pleaded one more time, “Please don’t run away from me again”.

“I’m not,” you answered with the same tone, eyes still very much closed.

“You were going to, though”

“I’m sorry”

“Why?” he furrowed his brows.

“For trying to run away”, you answered swiftly to each question, surprisingly. As if all your walls had been brought down just by his simple, loving touch.

“No, why do you keep running away?”

Not so swift anymore, huh?

You stayed silent, not knowing how to answer his question without sounding like a little girl scared of the dark.

“Y/N” he said again, waiting for your answer. His hands moved from your arms to your hands, stopping both pairs from shaking and lightly intertwining your fingers.

You knew you had to come clean. It wasn’t fair to him for you to not give him answers, and not fair to you to keep feeling this angst. So, still very quietly, you answered.

“I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m gonna get hurt if I let you in or that I may hurt you if you let me in. Or both. I care about you so much and I don’t want to ruin our relationship because what we have is great but I also really want to be with you and love you but then I’m also scared because of what I just sai—” your ramble being cut off by Harry’s chapped lips.

His hands held both sides of your face, making you feel secure in his embrace and the soft kiss radiating adoration. He poured everything he felt for you in it, only hoping you could feel it too and that it would bring you out of that fear that had you so trapped in yourself.

He broke the kiss, lightly running his thumb over your cheek and reassuring you immediately.

“With me? Darling, you don’t have to be scared with me. I promise you I feel the exact same way, I love you so much and the last thing I want or will do is hurt you, but I can’t let you get away anymore. I want to make you feel loved and make you feel happy and I want everyone to know you’re mine and that I’m yours. Please let me do that, Y/N. Let me love you the way you deserve to be and I promise you won’t—”

It was you who interrupted him this time. During his small speech, you felt safe enough to open your eyes and see him. You saw the honestly and frustration in his face, desperately wanting you to understand how he felt. It made you realize  that you would rather spend a few moments loving each other than the rest of your life watching him with someone else, not knowing what could have been.

“Okay,” you said after parting ways.

“Okay?” he asked you, eyes frantically scanning your features for any sign of doubt or humour.

“Yes. Yes, let’s do it!” you giggled, him mirroring your actions and pulling you into his chest for a tight hug. He buried his face in your hair and yours in his chest, feeling relief course through him at the idea of you being taken by none other than him. Just holding each other, you were about to share another kiss until a random voice interrupted you from behind,

“...can I use the bathroom now?”.

[whatsnewalycat]

OCTOBER 1 - 4

OCTOBER 1: The VVitch

(Rewatch) I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I fucking love that this movie is true to the early america colonial experience of “yeah let’s leave England to live in the crazy woods, I can totally farm.” All the dad knows how to do is chop wood and oh my god can he split some logs. This actor’s voice always rattles me for some reason, he was perfect. Everyone was perfect in this movie, actually. Especially black phillip. What a guy.

OCTOBER 2: The Shining

(Rewatch) Listen, I fucking hate Stanley Kubrick. I really do. Aside from his notorious treatment of women, his film adaptations of The Shining and Lolita are, imo, completely divorced from the spirit of the source material. Like idk if he didn’t pick up on the messages of these stories or if he didn’t care about them or whatever, but it just makes me irrationally angry bc they are both near and dear to my heart. That being said… fuck, this movie is so good. Everyone is crushing it, every shot is gorgeous, and it’s so fucking scary. I’ve come to accept that Kubrick’s The Shining is a completely different beast than the novel, and it’s a masterpiece in its own right.

OCTOBER 3: Us

(Rewatch) Lupita deserves an Oscar for this performance. The movie itself made a lot more sense to me once I understood it was a comment on the prison industrial complex… which wasn’t until my second watch-thru lol. Idk how obvious this was to other people, if im just a space case, but going in with that context solidified it as perfect in my book.

OCTOBER 4: In a Violent Nature

(First watch) It’s conflicting being a horror fan who’s squeamish about gore. This movie had absolutely ghoulish body horror sequences (one where I refused to look or listen for like five minutes lmfao). But like… it’s a slasher from the slashers POV. Such a fucking cool concept. All the classic slasher movies tropes are there, but shown through a different lens. The slasher loves necklaces and HATES lesbians, that’s all I can say about him with certainty. What a guy. Also the nature shots were gorgeous, holy moly.

HORRORTOBER (2024)

(is this anything?)

I’ve been watching a horror movie every day in October. As of this writing, it’s October 28th and I am at the mercy of my own determination. SOS.

This is an anchor post for my thoughts and feelings on each movie. I’ll reblog this post with commentary in batches through Halloween so it hopefully doesn’t eat up the feed.

[iatheia]

I have no words to describe how much I despise Twelve as a Doctor. Absolute disdain. I don’t care much about Eleven, either, but at least with him I can imagine a universe in which his characterization could have worked, and on a good day, when they tone down his “look at me, aren’t I the greatest, and I have the most massive dick” energy, he becomes almost tolerable. Almost.

Twelve doesn’t muster even that. I can count on fingers the number of his episodes that I tolerate, let alone those where he is even remotely likeable. He is so deep down “I am an absolute ass, screw you, I don’t care about what you think or feel” territory. He is emotionally manipulative and often outright abusive. His racism in S8 is obnoxious. He behaves like he owns people close to him. He keeps gaslighting them. His “do you think I care for you so little...” feels utterly hollow considering there is next to nothing that he has done prior to that to back it up.  One of the very first times we see him expressing any sort of actual sympathy, it is to a genocidal dictator. He becomes the president of the Earth, twice. Can’t really get more authoritarian than that. His hubris on a regular day exceeds even that of Ten during his worst moments, but unlike Ten - he doesn’t really get told “no”, and on the rare occasions that he does, everything gets rightened out quickly enough with a mere “aw, shucks, ok”. He condemns a person he likes to a fate worse than death, which he realizes is not a good thing even while he is doing it. He shoots a person in cold blood just cause. His companions have the most pointless and most gruesome deaths - companions have died in the past, more than once, but at least it meant something, they fought for the things they believed in. Here, though, certainly at least with Bill, it is pretty much entirely his fault.

Fundamentally, Twelve doesn’t make sense. Every regeneration can be viewed through the lens of the one that came before him. The traits that either get amplified or subverted. The experiences that get accumulated along the way. The circumstances of their reintegration. I have absolutely no idea how you get Twelve from Eleven, especially in his final days.

The Doctor and Master have always been equal. Two sides or the same coin, every era. Except for his. The Master is reduced to an underling with a cutesy name that is more suitable to a petulant child or an animal than someone who tries to have any type of authority. They always had this tension, but now that the Master is in a feminine body, she just swoons immediately into Doctor’s arms, like just any other Moffat Girl. EU has done her justice - I do quite enjoy her audios, and novels, and the comic - for the most part. But her on-screen appearances are nigh unwatchable to me. Such a treatment of a character that I love is painful. 

I’ve seen people often go how much Capaldi is a good actor - if not the best who ever played this role. This is a sentiment that I find utterly baffling. He never managed to make me feel any positive emotions. At best of times, it is only mild indifference. Most of the times I just groaned at his pretentiousness. And all too often, seething contempt for the character. I don’t think that this is what I was supposed to feel for the protagonist. Certainly not for the actual hero of the story. And I’ve seen too many villains and antiheroes that are infinitely more interesting and compelling than he is, even at hist best, to even begin appreciating him from that point of view. Any time he expresses any positive sentiment about anything, it is done in the least relatable manner, about least relatable subjects.

Fundamentally, well. Every version of the Doctor has negative traits. You need them to make a good character. But they are paired up with positive traits. For all of Seven’s manipulation, I never had a moment of doubt that he cared about his companions and wanted to do the right thing. For all of Six’s conceit, I loved his poetry, his poise at the moments that mattered. For all of Thirteen’s caginess, her anger, I never doubted her desire to be a better person, her “fake it till you make it” attitude, her protectiveness over her companions. For all of One’s disdain, kidnapping, murder rocks, and doing thing things worse on purpose, there is certain degree of giddiness that is just fun. For all of Two’s clownishness, there is deliberately hidden intelligence. For all of Three’s arrogance, you can only marvel at how competent he is no matter what gets thrown at him. For all of death and trauma that surrounds Eight, there is an exuberance to him that sweeps you off your feet. For all of Ten’s hubris, you get sincere regret over the things he cannot fix. For all of Nine’s rudeness and standofishness, you have humbleness, willingness to admit his wrongdoings, and unrelenting hope even at darkest of moments. Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Even for Eleven’s dickishness, you do get a handful of moments of boyish charm - not enough to make it work 100%, but to at least give you a taste.

There is nothing about Twelve that even remotely balances piles and piles of awful that he brings to the table for me. Even the rarest moments where he tries to be less of an asshole just fall flat, they are too few and far between. So at best they just come across hollow, foreign, and unrelatable. You need to muster enough sympathy for the character to care for anything they are going through, and I couldn’t. None of the finales, none of the character deaths, none of the stakes, none of the supposedly warmer feelings did anything for me - certainly not in regards to him.

Any time I see any sort of positive sentiment about him, I feel an urge to vomit all over my keyboard. Call it an allergic reaction from a prolonged exposure to a certain group of people who treat him as a god that can do nothing wrong, consider everyone else to be lesser, and believe that this is the only acceptable point of view. They very much are responsible for turning this feeling from “I just don’t really care about him” to “almost everything about him him is disgusting and irredemable.”

[starfleetbotanist]

Physician, Heal Thyself (But Not Always)

🌹

It had been stupid, even he would admit that. Academy students were typically supposed to avoid bar fights. But Cupcake had been talking smack, and he'd had a few too many, so he had allowed the inevitable to happen. What he hadn't expected was for six other cadets to decide to use him as a punching bag. More surprising, though, was Bones.

He'd vaguely heard Bones trying to reason with his assailants before the roar in his ears drowned him out, but a fist to the stomach is a much more pressing matter than a pacifist doctor trying to tell you logic you don't want to hear, so he'd more or less written him off. That is, until he saw a cadet fall at his feet and turned to see his friend wading- and punching- through the crowd towards him.

He leapt at one of Cupcakes cronies as he landed a solid punch to Bones' face, causing the man to stumble back, a protectiveness he hadn't felt since Tarsus rising in him. But Bones regained his footing and gave as good as he'd gotten, before finally reaching Jim. Then he grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and dragged him from the bar, much like a mama cat with her errant kitten.

He stared at him, stunned, the entire way back to their room, Bones loudly scolding him about safety and rules the whole way, wiping blood from his now evidently broken nose. A sick feeling overcame him. What happened now? Was Bones going to leave, like Sam had?

He found himself dumped on the couch in an ungraceful heap as Bones' angry footsteps carried him to the bathroom and back. He sat on the coffee table, and Jim was relieved to see his medkit resting on his knee. He was (mostly) a model patient as Bones scrubbed at his cuts with antiseptic before using the portable dermal regen.

"You've got too damn good a brain, Jim, to go and get it knocked around by fools like that, y'hear me?"

He blinked. No, he hadn't heard him. Upon realizing that, Bones rolled his eyes before reaching over and lightly slapping his head- a move too gentle to actually hurt, and which he immediately followed with an affectionate ruffle of Jim's hair.

"This, your brain. Use it."

With that, he got up and headed back to the bathroom. Jim followed on his heels.

"That's it? You're not... More angry?"

"Jim, I knew when I signed up to be your friend there'd be risks. If a bar fight's the most danger we get in together I'd be surprised."

"But you got hurt!"

"Yeah, and you owe me for that."

He stopped in front of the mirror, opening his case again and finding the regen and a hypo. He reached up and, with a grunt, popped his nose back into place. He swore as he turned the hypo on himself, eyes watering.

"Scratch that, you really owe me," he said through gritted teeth.

"Sorry," Jim replied. He meant it. He hated seeing Bones hurt.

"Just-- use your head next time. Okay?"

"Yeah-- yeah, okay, Bones. I promise."

"Good." He washed the blood on his face and hands before turning back to face him. "Then we can forget about it."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Okay. Thanks, Bones."

"Anytime, kid."

🌹

Nyota held her wrist to her chest, waiting in the academy clinic. She had hurt it in combat class that day, but thankfully not too badly. The clinic was understaffed that day, and she had told Christine she was fine waiting. It was just her and two other cadets in the waiting room, after all. Not everyone was quite so patient, though.

One of the others, a command cadet, was complaining loudly, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair, and bouncing his leg in agitation.

"How much longer is this gonna take?" He asked when Christine opened the door to call another patient back.

"Doctor McCoy or Doctor M'Benga will be able to see you soon, sir," she answered. "We will get to you as soon as we can."

Nyota prided herself on her ability to read people, and what she saw from the other cadet was not encouraging. He jumped up to his feet, crossing over to Christine with surprising speed.

"You can't just come back here!" She said, positioning herself between the cadet and the door.

"Watch me!" He snapped, grabbing her shoulder and shoving her out of the way.

Nyota rose, but she didn't need to interfere. Just as he was stepping into the hallway, he ran face first into Doctor McCoy, summoned by Christine's shout.

"Didn't you hear the lady? She said you ain't gettin' in here!" He snapped, though Nyota could see him running a clinical eye over the cadet. "Easy now. Looks like you're in withdrawal. How many stims have you taken?"

"None of your business!" The man snapped, and before anyone could stop him, caught McCoy on the side of the head with a right cross.

Christine leapt in, then, getting him into a safe hold and grabbing his arm to pin behind him as McCoy called for M'Benga to bring a sedative.

"Dammit," he swore as the other doctor handed him the hypo. "Sucker punches harder than he looks."

Once he was sedated, security called, and a treatment plan discussed for the over-use of stims to get him through the command courses, the cadet was taken to Starfleet Medical for a proper detox.

"You okay, Chris?" McCoy asked. Nyota had come to Christine's side as the cadet was taken away. The two had been friends since their first year.

"Just fine," she promised. "Didn't even fall. What about you?"

"I'll be fine," he shrugged. "Happens sometimes. Nothin' the regen can't fix."

"You might want to get on that before it swells too much, Len" M'Benga said. "I can finish up here."

"It'll hold," McCoy insisted. "But you can take that patient we just called back. C'mon, Ny, I only need one eye to see the swelling in that wrist."

"Only if you fix your eye, too," she threatened, following him back to one of the rooms.

"Wrist first," he said, taking out his tricorder. She answered his questions, let him strap the regen unit to her, and stared him into submission until he began treating himself while they waited.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She asked once they had both finished.

"Ain't that my line? Any residual pain?"

"None, thank you. Now answer me."

"I'm okay," he promised. "Not my first rodeo with someone hyped up on stims, and it won't be my last."

"Can't say I envy you."

"Yeah, well, it happens. Now, you be careful in that combat class, okay? Stretch right, and be careful which moves you use on which partners."

"I will. Thanks, Len."

"Sure, Ny."

🌹

"Scotty."

He looked up from the manual he was reading at the sound from the bathroom door.

"Ah, Doc! What can I do for you?"

"You can take a break from straining your eyes and come have some coffee."

He laughed, lowering the PADD he was reading from.

"Aye, that sounds good. What're you doin' up so early?"

He followed him into his room, where he could smell fresh coffee brewing. Like many things, McCoy seemed to prefer real coffee, and while Scotty tended to be more of a tea man, he never turned down real foods or drinks.

"Haven't been to bed yet- don't tell Jim or Spock."

He poured them both a cup, handing Scotty one of them and motioning to the sugar and creamer he'd set out.

"Aren't you the one always telling the crew the importance of a good sleep schedule?"

"Yeah, and that's why I'm askin' you not to tell on me," he grinned.

"Can you not sleep?"

"No, not really. I've been goin' over that last accident in Engineering. I've written up a few training proposals, and wanted you to read through them and tell me which you think'll work best before I submit them."

"Have you been working on this all day?"

"Since my shift ended, yeah."

Scotty saw him take two tiny pills from a bottle on his desk and take them before rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry, headache. Ibuprofen. Been at this a little too long, I think."

"Why push yourself like this, then?"

He scanned the proposals, an interdisciplinary first aid course specific to Engineering and the various injuries and accidents that could happen, a triage proposal to better prepare medical staff for what to expect when an accident is called in, and new safety guidelines and equipment inspection schedules.

"Well, every second counts, you know that. The sooner we get this smoothed out, the better. It could be life or death, and I'm not about to play games there."

"You never do," Scotty grinned, picking up a stylus and making a few notes. "I like this so far. I hope you made a lot of coffee, because I have a few ideas, too."

"I hoped you would," McCoy grinned, and the two sat down to begin work.

🌹

"You called me, Doc?"

"Mr Sulu, perfect timing!"

Doctor McCoy was standing by a selection of plants, studying them intensely.

"The botany department sent these up. They're medicinal. But the labels got mixed up, and we don't really know what's what."

"That's unusual," Sulu grinned, looking down at the selection. "She's usually more organized when making deliveries."

He began to catalogue the plants, calling to mind their uses.

"Fever few, plantain... Several of these are for stopping bleeding."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping for. We're training our medics to learn other ways to heal in the field."

"Good idea," Sulu nodded, fixing the lables.

"Thank you for the help," McCoy grinned. "Oh, Lieutenant Lyle brought another plant, but I'm not sure what it does. It was bigger than the others, so I set it in the office. Little bastard scratched me, too."

Sulu laughed, plucking a plantain leaf and handing it to him.

"Chew on that for a minute and put it on the cut, that will help."

He heard McCoy's thanks as he went into the office. He gasped. On the desk was a rare Andorian Passionflower- spiked where its Earth counterpart was not, and blue instead of purple. In place of a label there was a note, and he recognized the handwriting.

"Ben?"

"Surprise," McCoy said, stepping in. He had the chewed leaf against his finger. "We were asked not to tell you anything."

He opened the envelope. It was handwritten anniversary card. He smiled, warmth filling him.

"Happy anniversary, you two," McCoy said, patting him on the shoulder. "There's minutes on my computer for subspace communication. He's waiting for you to call."

"Thanks, Doc," he answered, wiping sudden tears from his eyes.

McCoy patted his back again before leaving him to his call.

🌹

"Doctor?"

"Mhm?"

"Why did you do it?"

McCoy looked at Chekov, who was eyeing wound on his arm with deep concern.

"Reflex," he lied, finishing ripping his uniform shirt into bandages. He turned his eyes away, focusing on tying off and tending the wound until the ion storm ended and they could contact the Enterprise.

"Captain Kirk is right. You are a terrible liar, sir."

He snorted, tying off his makeshift sling. He'd taken a rather severe cut from a spear from one of the inhabitants of this supposedly uninhabited planet. The spear had been aimed at Chekov, but he had managed to push the kid out of the way just in time.

"Captain Kirk can mind his own business."

"Doctor..."

McCoy sighed, leaning back against the cave wall. Chekov joined him, still looking at him with wide-eyed worry.

"You remind me of Joanna."

"Huh?"

"I did it because you remind me of Joanna."

"Who is Joanna?"

"My daughter. My whole world. I don't get to see her often, but she's my pride and joy."

"And I remind you of her?"

"Yeah. Can't explain it. It's probably because you're so young, or some misplaced guilt about not being there to protect JoJo that makes me want to look out for you instead that the psychologist really doesn't wanna think too much about."

He shrugged, closing his eyes.

"That, and I'm a doctor, and your senior officer. Not gonna let you get hurt if I can help it."

Running for their lives had worn him out, it seems. Chekov studied him for a moment before placing his head on his shoulder.

"You are very much the papa I always wanted. My grandmother, she told me stories about him. He was a good man. If he was... If I had known him longer, I would have liked for him to be like you, Doctor."

He felt a strong hand ruffle his hair.

"Get some rest, kid. I'll keep watch."

Chekov smiled, allowing his own eyes to close. He fell asleep wondering if McCoy would laugh or be angry that he had become, as the captain said, a "mama bear."

🌹

Spock stood beside Captain Kirk's hospital bed, arms folded behind his back. He had come to check on the progress of McCoy's serum on their friend. But, also, he was here to check on McCoy. Nyota had expressed worry over him that morning after visiting.

"You want a seat, Spock?"

He turned as the doctor entered the room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a PADD in the other.

"No, thank you, Doctor."

McCoy set the coffee aside, moving to the bed to compare the data on the PADD to the biobed readings. As Spock watched him, he began to really notice the state the doctor was in. His eyes were bloodshot, ringed in dark circles, his hair sticking at odd angles, as though he had run his fingers through it many times. He hadn't shaved, and was looking rather gaunt.

"When did you last sleep, Leonard?"

"Does it matter, Spock?"

"I think it would matter to the captain. And... I admit to a concern, as well."

"May miracles never cease," McCoy muttered, and they both knew what miracle he was praying for.

"Doctor, you must rest. The captain's status is unlikely to change in the time it would take for you to eat and sleep."

"I can't, Spock. Not right now."

"Why?"

"Because he needs me."

"He needs all of you, Leonard. Not a shell of yourself."

McCoy's shoulders sagged at that.

"I don't want to leave him," he admitted. "I promised I wouldn't leave him."

"You do not have to leave him. You could bring a cot into this room, perhaps. Shower in the en suite, and eat the meals Nyota has been bringing you."

"When I try to sleep, Spock, all I can see is him in that chamber. In that damn body bag in my medbay. It... It hurts, Spock. In a very human way, it hurts. It- this grief, it's like a wound, Spock."

"As you so often tell me, Leonard, you are a doctor. You treat wounds, better than most. You are healing the captain. The best way to heal that grief is to continue to do so. But if you damage yourself with overwork, you will not be able to care for him to the best of your abilities."

McCoy was silent for a moment before nodding.

"You're right... Thank you, Spock."

"It is... My pleasure, Leonard."

When he visited again that night, he found McCoy asleep on a cot not far from Kirk's bed, PADD still in hand. He had showered and shaved. The plate Nyota had sent him was now empty, and someone, presumably nurse Chapel, had covered him with the knitted blanket that he usually kept on the couch in his office.

Spock allowed himself to feel relieved, and quietly retreated, turning down the lights as he did so. The next morning, Kirk woke up.

🌹

"He may be a little disoriented when he wakes up," M'Benga told the assembled officers. "It was touch and go there, and we nearly lost him a few times. But I do believe he will make a full recovery."

"You are sure?" Chekov asked, his face pale. Sulu had his hand on his back for support.

"Yes. He is stable. Now all he needs is rest."

"Thank you," Kirk spoke up, gripping one of McCoy's hands from his place beside his bed. "Bones couldn't have been in better hands."

"You remind him of that when he wakes up," M'Benga laughed quietly, his calm manner helping ease the tension in the crowd. "You can talk to him now, too. Even if he doesn't hear you, it'll help him to have friendly voices around."

Scotty coughed to hide a relieved sniffle, and patted Kirk's shoulder amiably.

"Why don't you start, Captain?"

Kirk nodded, thinking.

"Bones, you know we all love you, right? So you've gotta come back to us. It's not the same without you here yelling at me."

"Indeed, Doctor. Your colorful metaphors are... Missed." Spock looked down the line of visitors expectantly.

"Da, and you promised to let us talk to Joanna next time she called you!" Chekov watched the sleeping man eagerly.

"Yeah, she and Demora are going to space camp together," Sulu pitched in. "If you don't wake up soon, who's gonna tell them how dangerous it is?"

Nyota laughed at that, and everyone (save Spock) grinned.

"Aye, Len. And you're gonna have to be the one to tell Jaylah what happened, you know," Scotty said. "Otherwise the lassie's likely to steal a ship and come all the way from Earth to make sure you aren't still hurt."

"What about you, Uhura?" Kirk asked. "You know how he likes to hear you sing. Why don't you sing one of his favorites."

"Good idea," she nodded, thinking. "I know just the one."

Soon the medbay was filled with her soft, comforting voice.

"I'll keep you safe..."

🌹 This was a long one! Thank you for reading! This was based on a prompt by @hlabounty96 ! I hope you enjoyed! 🌹

[cant-think-of-anything]

I think part of the reason that there’s such a dissonance between what kind of character Matthew is ~supposed~ to have and what kind of poor traits shine through, especially in his treatment of Alastair, is not just because of CC’s poor handling of alcoholism (and, in my opinion, mental health issues and depression) but also because: Our first introduction to these characters happened a long ways before some major changes to TLH.

Namely… Alastair and Cordelia were basically white in CC’s original planning. There’s just no way around that. Their flower cards, where they’re not just whitewashed but purely white, prove that (and they STILL haven’t been updated, by the way.)

Also, Alastair’s hair: in CoG it was dyed blond, and CC wrote it off implicitly as a racism thing when she decided he was Persian (which I guess happened after the short story where we met Alastair and before TLH) , which would have been fine it if it was an arc written better. Except, I don’t think she realized that it would make Matthew’s comments about Alastair inherently and obviously racist, being a white author. And I doubt that it will be dealt with and named or even acknowledged outright in the final TLH installment.

Kind of the same thing with Cordelia. I’m not saying POC can’t have like red hair because obviously POC don’t come in a prepackaged set of five or six traits that are all configured randomly, but something has always rubbed me the wrong way about the way that CC writes the majority of her POC and especially WOC as exotic. I mean, Kamala as a character is to me a special favorite (even though CC did her dirty and didn’t do a good job portraying her character or intersectional identity) but I rolled my eyes so hard when she had lighter brown or “amber” eyes in canon or officially commissioned art. With Cordelia, I know CC once said she uses henna to redden her hair which is great for her, and I guess I have less of a bone to pick with that because it’s semi(?) realistic, but still. Also the fact that so much of her description as a beautiful person comes from her hair. Again that’s cool, and women of color should be loved wholly including being loved for the parts of them that they freely change (such as Cordelia’s hair) but… the proportion of the fixation on her hair as what makes her lovely rubs me the wrong way sometimes. I feel like it’s sometimes an out from CC making the ~scandalous~ decision that a woman of color can be beautiful because of the traits she is born with. Idk it’s just for me I had this long standing repulsion towards my colorings and my facial structure and white girls would tell me I was whiny about it and then I finally began to piece together things like “Eurocentric beauty standards.”

Going on a tangent slightly, but something else that bothered me was when Anna insulted Cordelia after buying her those dresses and everyone kinda treating it as a compliment? And just cause Cordelia, a fictional teenager, didn’t get mad about it doesn’t mean readers of color can’t see the underlying racism behind “Cordelia looks MUCH better in these dresses which are SUITED for her skin tone.”

I think that narrative could have been handled much better: if it was Cordelia picking out her own clothes as an act of maturity and self-realization and ownership, if Cordelia herself said (in a different way lol) “Damn right I can wear lavender ruffles if I want to and crimp my hair but I’m not going to let white fashion prevent me from outshining everyone because dark skinned women INVENTED jewel tones.” And I think some people will argue that Cordelia’s context makes this too self aware of a development but I would say that it would have been a powerful part of her development outside of her relationships, especially considering that she’s supposed to be a main protagonist. Full arcs for the win baby!

But even aside from all that what bothered me about Anna’s dresses was the fact that it was a white woman showing the “truth” or the “right way” or “saving” a woman of color, a trope which I don’t think CC intended but committed nonetheless. I think from a white author POV the thinking was “Anna is such a free bohemian who lives true to herself and she’s going to help Cordelia become that way too,” which irks me because I feel like that just worked against CC in terms of POC rep and also because that same ideology is used in an attempt to make Anna’s treatment of Kamala justified even though Anna as an out person, with racial and economic privilege and the support of an extensive and powerful family network, pressured and tormented Kamala into coming out.

I have a lot of thoughts on that relationship, mainly: it shouldn’t have been dragged out this long because from the beginning, Every Exquisite Thing, it was clear they were looking for different things. And if CC had left it at that and let them go on their separate ways after a week of knowing each other that would have been fine: Kamala can’t do an out and proud relationship and Anna doesn’t want secrecy, so they’ll develop on their own. And then later Kamala’s pursuit of Anna in the actual TLH books was I think meant to be a thing about “the lengths you’ll go for true love” but it felt forced. Honestly… It just feels icky. like this woman of color is just so hung up on this white woman who abuses her repeatedly and can’t handle her own misogyny and internalizations. And I hate that because both had such awesome potential! To me it’s less that I dislike Anna ( I’d need a whole other post to explain that) and more that I dislike CC for wanting so bad to claim sapphic rep but not wanting to put in the effort to portray it effectively- and pretty much all that entails is writing the relationship without acting like it exists in a pseudo-vacuum where the history and realities of interracial relationships and queerphobia don’t exist in the way we obviously recognize and experience.

And characters like Cordelia and Alastair are amazing and have so much potential; I think the true origin of the problems with their portrayal is that they weren’t really intended as POC or even queer representation in the first place. I don’t know if Cassie would have taken a different approach to her characterization had she known Alastair would be a brown gay man when she first introduced him, but I hope it would have at least made her more conscientious of the inherent application of colonialism and racism in her storytelling from that point onward.

I want to finally add that I’m not saying any portrayal of racism is bad. I’m saying that the racism in the story is not part of a conscious framework that critiques racism appropriately. I think CC wrote the beginnings of the narrative, decided she was going to develop the diversity point content, and then either didn’t look back at the older content to analyze it and the other (white characters) through a new lens of race and outsiderness and queer personhood, or she looked at it and didn’t know what to do with it, or looked at it and didn’t care.

Sorry this got so long! Thanks for listening.

- A.

I feel like CC handled everything poorly in regards to characters who had a lot of potential.

The fact that Cordelia and Alastair are both originally white and it's so obvious in the way every bit of racism is handled by the characters. Matthew's comments in CLS are very important and they should've been handled with the same severity that Alastair's words were. CC changing the characters to POC was a big decision and when she did so she should've went back and actually read her own material. I can assure you that it will not be handled in CHOT, my expectations for CC recognizing the importance and gravity in the words she writes regarding racism or any of her "implied racism" bullshit have gone to the ground.

Because while golden eyes are obviously so easy to write when discussing discrimination obviously racism is out of the question /j

THAT'S EXACTLY IT, women of color in these books are so pathetically rare that on the rare occurrence that she does write them they should all be given these features that aren't as common in POC and written as more beautiful because of those features. I read CHOG after I became more appreciative of my ethnic features but if I had read this a year or so ago? Or even if I had read it after just feeling insecure in general? It would've been awful. The implication is that the lighter features in POC are the most beautiful, with Cordelia's red hair being put on a higher pedestal than her dark eyes and Kamala's eyes being focused on more than her hair (because I literally went back and counted the numbers to prove it and it's exactly what happens.)

I'm sure Cordelia's hair is stunning, but it's the way that when she's described (or more accurately being sexualized) it is just her hair and body that is shown, not the color of her skin or the color of her eyes.

God the pastel thing pisses me off so much. It's not even that Anna tells Cordelia that she would look better in darker colors it's that she says it suits her skin tone. Implying that anyone with brown skin should be barred from wearing pastels. And Kamala? In the few times she is described, she's wearing dark colors or champagne gold, never light blue or purple or pink WHICH HONESTLY SUITS HER PERSONALITY. It's also the way that the dresses Anna sent her are described to be more revealing- it's weird. Anna barely knew her when she started dictating everything that Cordelia could put on her body.

“Damn right I can wear lavender ruffles if I want to and crimp my hair but I’m not going to let white fashion prevent me from outshining everyone because dark skinned women INVENTED jewel tones.”

I literally would have loved that. It recognizes that she doesn't need to follow these "rules" on what to wear but still shows her choosing what she wants to wear without making all the darker skinned readers feel like they can't wear a certain color.

I think what some people fail to realize is that these books are also aimed at upper elementary and middle school and a middle schooler with dark skin reading something like that? In a book with characters they love? It's going to be so harmful

Someone else mentioned that CC said Kamanna's relationship was complicated because Kamala didn't defend Anna: Defend her FROM WHAT? Literally what is there to threaten Anna?

These books are filled with tokenism and then praised for it. The idea of Kamala X Anna has so much potential but they're portrayed in such a toxic way. Throughout the last through books Kamala puts herself through so much guilt and regret and turmoil just for Anna to literally use her, blame her, and cast her aside. And it's so fucking annoying because it pushes this idea that this woman of color who was terrified and in an extremely vulnerable position is in the wrong for choosing her safety and presents them as guilty and shameful for doing such a thing.

I would disagree, the portrayal of racism is bad, because it is used at random points in the story and never brought up again, if you interduce racism take it seriously it's not the kind of thing you're meant to half-ass in a book thousands of people will read

I agree on everything else though, so much of these books are incredibly harmful and they are presented to a young audience so it's overall just a gross situation

Thank you for the ask though! I loved answering this, if you ever have anything else you're more than welcome to come back <3

[moonlightfilly]

(trying to fit what I wanted to say in the replies was killing me too sdkjfh)

Honestly! For all the author claims to have researched, the results are truly lack-luster. You can tell when they're out of their depth, because they can't properly talk about any of the issues they bring up in a natural, significant way. Even the feminist aspect of the comic seems lacking, with the author preferring to make it "women can do no wrong and men are always in the wrong" in this comic. Even if the women do something wrong the author either ignores it (or doesn't even understand they're wrong) or cooks up something worse the men can do to absolve the women (hello Veronica cheating on Nacho). Ethel never learns, the author never thinks she needs to, so it's all just... bad.

The aroace rep feels so badly done here... there seems to be no real understanding about what it's like to live as an aro/ace/aroace individual, not to mention the fact you can barely call it rep because it's hidden away so much. To villainize Jughead for things he did in high school (+most of those things are just from Ethel's POV), which turned out to be just him not being certain about his sexuality and being a confused teenager, and then not even talk empathetically about how he felt pressured by society to be straight or let him say the words aromantic asexual out loud?! Nothing about Jughead's story was his, it was almost exclusively told through the lens of all of the other characters, and even when he got to talk briefly about being aroace after being locked in a vault and forced to talk about it (yikes, and then the author had Jughead thank Trula for crossing his boundaries) it was still all about Ethel's feelings.

You'd think the multiple POVs on the "Jughead situation" would culminate in people realizing they made a lot of assumptions and harsh judgements without even asking the person they're talking about what's going on... but no. No learning moment. No acknowledgment that the situation wasn't as black and white as it was made out to be. No empathy shown towards aspecs trying to navigate an allonormative society, even when we could see how being aroace but not realizing it really weighed on Jughead in high school. His peers were all pressuring him to date, he's always blamed for "leading girls on", Ethel was constantly pursuing him which was very stressful to him, but not once does a character reflect on how their actions affected Jughead or even how their current treatment of Jughead has been unfair. The entire focus was on Ethel's hurt feelings that he ghosted her, to the point that even Jughead's coming out was motivated by the desire to make Ethel feel better. It was all about him begging for her forgiveness and there was nothing from Ethel's side. The blame for their conflict was firmly placed on him and his orientation, Ethel says they're good now (though she's back to not being good with him in s2 even though he doesn't know that), and that's all we get on the topic. I'm shocked that even his so-called best friend didn't care to understand his side of the story and jumped on the Jughead hate-train, and we still haven't seen him or any other character acknowledge they did anything wrong to Jughead. Like... is the conclusion really meant to just be "aspecs hurt allo people and they have to take accountability for that"? Yikes.

The author was so proud of themselves, posting the book on asexuality they were reading on instagram "for research" and then they didn't seem to take anything from it at all. When we finally got that scene in the vault and Jughead got to speak for himself a little it felt very 101 at best, aphobic at worst, and then the author didn't even let him state his identity out loud for some reason even though that would've been the moment to do so. And having Jughead say that people tell him "you just haven't met the right person" and then have the author immediately confirm that those people were right?? because Trula is his exception?? Mess. Of course he could be demi/gray, but the way all of this information was presented just made things feel like really bad barely passing rep, and I'll admit it's hard for me to trust the author's intentions in making a character that in previous iterations had no exceptions have one after how poorly they've handled the aspec topic. Making Trula in particular the exception also gives me the ick because she was literally the one trying to mess with his head to "fix him" (make him allo) in the original comics.

The author needs an editor and needs to do more reading on the subjects she wants to broach for real...

(Also yes to anybody else reading this read Jughead 2015!!)

Big Ethel Energy Season 2 Episode 19

Just diving into it today.

Overall, I feel like the webcomic continually tries and continually misses with its presentation of serious topics and in turn those topics feel shoe horned or surface level as I continue to read. Some topics are treated well, but I think the primary difference is that in those instances where the presentation is better, multiple pages are dedicated to the topic rather than a few speech bubbles. If the time or effort isn't going to put into the issues when they come up then I feel like it's meaningless for the webcomic to try to present them because it present such an unsubstantial surface level discussion or commentary on them.

This perspective isn't wrong, but Veronica didn't treat Tim like that at all. Perhaps it's the way I read the encounter between Tim and Veronica or if it was portrayed overtly. Veronica certainly had an abrasive attitude, but they both did during their first meeting.

Big Ethel Energy continues to shove perspectives down the readers throats and villainize characters without displaying them doing wrong or sticking to that characterization. At least make it apparent. Like if Veronica had stereotyped or perceived Tim in a myopic way because he was gay I would understand and agree with what Tim was saying in the context of the story and how it happened, but my issue is that their meeting didn't read like that to me. They were equally abrasive and snide with each other. It was on the same level.

He called her out on her history of bullying and she accepted that. If he called her out on any of her other wrongs like the body shaming or cheating I would have understood that. I understand Tim is doing all of this with the intentions of protective Ethel, but bringing this up without the meeting displaying it feels empty and feels like a failure on the part of the comic's presentation/display.

...I'm going to real I have no idea what Seth's ethnicity is because I don't think it was mentioned until now. I'm assuming he has an Indigenous American background because of the comment he makes here, but I'm honestly not sure because I don't believe it was mentioned until now. But I will be checking on that and editing the paragraph accordingly.

But I personally feel as if this exchange between Tim and Seth is clumsy and continues with with the pattern of the comic bringing up important topics and issues just for the sake of bringing them up, but never expanding upon them.

Big Ethel Energy continues to mention these important topics and perspectives, but the comic really does nothing with them. They feel shoe horned as I've repeatedly stated across my reading of the webcomic because the characters do nothing with them. I understand being stereotyped as a racial minority myself, it's a lived experience and at times it feels like you can do nothing about it in social situations, but having a couple characters talk about race and sexuality and the stereotyping that comes with these aspects of one's self when interacting with people and then having no real conclusion or message other than "We contain multitudes, bro!"

It feels simple? Shallow? A way to cut off the conversation with an easy and nice bow? I'm not sure how others are perceiving this moment. Like of course we contain multitudes. It just feels...way to simplified. Personally at least.

Other than that in this episode. I am glad someone finally said this because I wasn't sure if I was reading it correctly. The comic is pointing toward Seth and Ethel potentially being a thing.

Just considering Ethel's crush on Seth I wonder if the same issues/anxieties she expressed having with dating and that she solely associated with Jughead are going to come up again? If they don't I feel like her issues with dating were really more just issues with Jughead.

[actress4him]

Overexposure - New Ideas

(Prompt #17 for Summer of Whump)

Ask to get on a taglist!

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Warnings: lady whumpee with male whumper, creepy/intimate whumper, captivity, referenced beating, noncon touching (non-sexual), forced stripping (non-sexual), restraints, stress position

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It’s only a few days after the exhibit, a few days after the brutal beating Ellery received for trying to ask for help, when the door to her room flies open and he’s standing there with that smile on his face. The smile she hates more than anything. The smile that says she’s about to suffer even more.

“Good morning, Princess.” Lucas strolls into the room - the cell, really, just a tiny corner of the basement built expressly for the purpose of keeping her inside. “In the midst of the fallout from your misguided attempt the other night, I failed to mention how much of a success the exhibit was. Everyone adored you.”

Her skin crawls at the thought, but she knows better than to respond by now. Instead she pulls her knees up to her chest, hugging them to herself as if she can keep him away.

“I’m getting plenty of sales, too. So many people who want to have our beautiful artwork all for themselves.”

She knows better than to respond, but she can’t help it. The image of those photos hanging on someone’s walls, or being hidden away to look at secretly… “Guess they’re just as sick as you are.”

All of her muscles tense up as soon as she says it, expecting him to lash out. But he must be in an awfully good mood, because he simply ignores the outburst, pacing toward the tiny table with his hands clasped behind his back.

“I’ve been getting requests, too. Some from patrons at the last exhibit, others from people who have seen my previous work.” He turns, leaning up against the table, eyes roving over her body in the way he does when she knows he’s imagining ways to torture it. “Seems like there’s a whole collection of people out there who love...well, I keep hearing the word ‘whump’, but...basically, they draw all kinds of inspiration from what we’re doing. And now they’d like to see something...a little less refined, a little more...hm, how do I say it? A little more...raw. Primitive.”

The smile creeps back onto his face. “It’s something I’ve never done before, but I’m certainly up to the challenge. I’ve got ideas already. And I have a feeling once I get started I’ll be quite inspired to keep going.”

No wonder he’s in a good mood. He’s in his creative zone, which means a nightmare of a day for her. And it’s so soon, she’s still healing, her body isn’t ready.

He won’t care about any of that, though.

“Alright, come on, chop chop! Up to makeup we go.”

It’s one of the few instances when she’s allowed out of the basement, so she tries to enjoy it. If she cranes her neck as they come to the top of the stairs, she can catch a glimpse of green and sunlight through a sliver of window, and overall the rooms upstairs are much brighter. It’s a refreshing change.

Lucas’ assistant, whose name she’s never bothered to learn, is ready and waiting in the usual spot with her makeup and hair tools. It’s the one thing that he doesn’t do himself. Ellery expects the same treatment for the bruise around her eye - now turned a sickly yellow - as it got for the exhibit, but it’s ignored. Instead the assistant focuses on eyeliner, mascara, and a little bit of lip color. The basics, meant to make her features pop in the photos, nothing fancy. Maybe that’s what he meant by ‘raw and primitive’. She can certainly hope that it’s nothing worse, though hope has done her a fat lot of good so far.

“You want her hair pulled back at all?” the assistant asks.

Lucas, who has been lurking the whole time, watching the process, steps forward and runs thick fingers through her long black hair. She doesn’t bother to suppress a shudder and a look of disgust, but doesn’t try to pull away, either.

“Yeah. Go ahead and put it up, something simple, though. Simple and messy. I might take it down partway through, we’ll see.”

It’s brushed back into a ponytail with lots of strands hanging down around her face, and the top is fussed over until it’s perfectly, believably messy. The assistant looks up to Lucas for approval.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s good. I like it. Okay, moving on.”

This is the point where her starting wardrobe is usually chosen. She stands, waiting while he scrutinizes her current outfit of a baggy white t-shirt and black cotton shorts.

“Take that off, remind me what you have on under it.”

Ellery’s face flushes scarlet. She hates this, hates obeying and hates demeaning herself for him, but last time she refused to take off the clothes herself he just did it for her, and that was so much worse. And it’s not like he’s actually interested in her, not in that way. She was so incredibly afraid of that for a long time. But no, to him she’s not a person for him to want. She’s a piece of art, a canvas, a sculpture. A thing. All he’s thinking of is how he can best use her to create the ‘masterpiece’ he has in mind.

So she slips the t-shirt off over her head. Stands in just her sports bra and shorts with her cheeks burning and wishes that she could melt into the floor and cease to exist.

The expression that comes over his face is nothing short of delight. “Ooh, this is so much better than I was expecting.” He practically trots over to her, eyes on her bare stomach, and reaches out to brush his fingers along the tender, aching skin. She flinches, instinctively pulls back, but he only latches onto her waist, digging his fingers into a myriad of bruises. “This is fantastic. Just what we need for today. So glad I gave you these already.”

Gave her. Like the beating was a gift. She doesn’t need to look down to know that her torso is pretty much one giant bruise, she can feel it just fine.

“Yep. That’ll be perfect. Leave it just like that. No sense in covering up any of this beauty.” He strokes his fingers across her stomach one more time before stepping back to admire the whole thing. “Alright, thank you, Jordan. Let’s get back to the studio.”

The studio - aka the basement. Back down to the cold concrete walls and the artificial lights. She can’t help but slow, just a little, as they pass the room with the window, trying to get one more little peek of the outdoors. She pays for it with his hand coming to land on the back of her neck, squeezing tightly, promising much more pain if she doesn’t keep walking.

The area of the basement that Lucas uses to take her photos isn’t much to speak of, especially today when the white backdrop is rolled up at the ceiling. It’s just an expanse of grey, but it haunts her nightmares.

“Alright.” Lucas is practically giddy with excitement. “I’ve got so many ideas I don’t know where to start. No, scratch that. I do know where I want to start.” He turns to his shelf of props and rummages through a box, pulling out several pieces of metal with chains draping in between.

The dread that had been swirling in Ellery’s stomach all morning suddenly solidifies into something heavy, a stone that simultaneously pulls her down into the floor and threatens to make her sick. She can’t do this again. She can’t. The pain of being stretched into positions her body was never meant to be in, the humiliation of being photographed in the most vulnerable state possible...and now it’s even worse, because she’s already in pain from being beaten.

Lucas is at the far wall, tinkering with his contraption, using existing bolts and screws from previous sessions to attach things to both the wall and floor. “Come here,” he says after a few minutes, and it’s the last straw.

Something inside of her crumples.

“Please…” It comes out as no more than a trembling whisper, but it catches his attention anyway. “Please don’t, I can’t, I can’t, please…”

Sighing heavily, he walks toward her, boots clomping out her doom on the concrete floor. “I thought we were past this, Princess. You’d been doing so well.”

She opens her mouth, to say what, she doesn’t know, it’s all pointless anyway, but before a sound makes it past her lips his fist is connecting with her temple. Her world is reduced to black and pain and falling. When her vision returns, the room whirls around her, Lucas’ face up above hers dipping and bobbing in a way that makes her stomach churn, and her head throbs. She can tell she’s being dragged, though, by the ankle over to where he wanted her.

Rough hands grab her by the arms and heft her to her feet, and the room goes spinning again. Her back is pressed up against the wall, concrete blocks cold on her bare skin, and Lucas wraps an arm around her waist to lift her slightly. She gasps as he puts pressure on the ribs she’s pretty sure are broken.

A second later, something thin and cool falls across her throat, and after he fiddles with something just under her ear for a moment, Lucas steps back and leaves her to settle down onto her bare toes. They just barely touch the floor enough for her to rest her weight on, the metal across her neck digging slightly into her skin and threatening to cut off her air. She tries not to notice him watching her as she struggles to adjust her feet to push herself a little higher.

“Nice. I love it already. Actually, hang on, I’m also loving the disoriented look you’ve got going on right now. I need a shot of that.”

He grabs his camera and gets right up in her face. Ellery automatically squeezes her eyes shut, hating that lens, hating the thought of anyone else seeing her like this, but all she gets for it is his finger poking her in the ribs. Her eyes fly open as she cries out, and the camera clicks. Once, twice, three times.

“Ooh, I don’t know which one of these I like best.” He studies the screen with a grin, flipping back and forth through the shots. “The hazy, disoriented look I was going for, or the gasping in pain. And the restraint around the neck really sets it off. Fantastic. Okay, moving on.”

Bending down, he picks up the rest of the metal pieces, the ones with the chains attached. While she wasn’t paying attention it seems he had hooked one end of the chains to the floor, several feet out in front of her, and now he brings the other end to her. She only finds out what it is for sure when he yanks her hands away from the wall where she had been attempting to help support herself and clamps it around her wrists. The shackles pull her arms out in front of her, naturally making her body want to lean forward, too. But if she gives into the pull, or if her feet get tired and try to lower, she’ll choke.

Lucas stands back to admire his work. “Yes. Just as good as I had hoped. And you’re already starting to get that wild look in your eyes, too. I think if I leave you here for, oh -” he checks his phone -“around thirty or forty-five minutes, I’ll really get the desperation I’m looking for. Maybe an hour. We’ll see.”

With that, he turns and heads for the stairs. As the echo of his footsteps dies out, Ellery finally lets the tears start to pour down her cheeks. She can’t spare the focus to stop them anymore, anyway. All of her concentration until he decides she’s done is going to have to be on staying balanced so she doesn’t die.

.

.

Disclaimer: I don’t think people who like whump are “sick”. Obviously, I am one of them. Now, if there were actually people like Lucas out there who hurt real people for whump’s sake, then yeah. They would be considered “sick”. But of course, Lucas’ patrons don’t know what he’s really doing...or do they...?

[orange-imagines]

Stitched Up

Mud Dogs X Reader (Platonic) 

Warning(s) - Some mentions and brief descriptions of blood and injuries, but I didn’t describe anything in great detail

A/N - This wasn’t requested or anything, I just really wanted to do a full drabble for the prompt about the Mud Dogs with a medically experienced friend. Hope you guys enjoy! 

They were late.

In all fairness, of course, it wasn’t as if the Mud Dogs were famously punctual, but at least Danny had a strong sense of time and was usually able to keep the other two on track. Though that didn’t seem to be the case today.

You tried not to think too hard about it, stretching out on the couch in your apartment, phone in hand, idling between three different apps as you waited. For what, you weren’t exactly sure. Maybe a text or call, either informing you that the job had run long, or that they couldn’t make it and would have to cancel your hangout entirely.

You ended up getting no such message. Instead, your front door opened a few moments later, and in walked the Mud Dogs, grumbling and aching as they closed the door behind them and dropped their set of spare keys onto the table by the door.

“Uh...hey,” you greeted, setting your phone down on the coffee table as you stood to greet them.

Only when they made their way into the living room, however, did you finally understand the reason behind their tardiness.

From what you could see, the Mud Dogs had gotten their asses kicked. Not only were they empty-handed, but Leonard and Mickey’s bodies were both scattered with bruises, the former with a noticeable gash on his left arm, and the latter messing with a crooked tooth as the group made their way into the living room.

With Danny’s body covered in fur, injuries were hard to see, but you could only assume he’d gotten a relatively similar treatment.

“Hey, Y/N,” Mickey greeted, mumbling his words as he continued to mess with his loose tooth.

“Hey, Y/N,” Danny greeted quietly, taking a seat on the cushioned chair across the room and letting out a long, relieved sigh as he sank into it.

“You guys...look like hell,” you said.

“Yeah, we just got back,” Leonard said, rolling his arm and cringing at the sting from his cut, “who could’ve known the pigs would show up early and completely screw our getaway?”

Mickey mumbled something from around his fin, but you weren’t able to make it out.

“We can’t understand ya with your fist in your mouth, Mick,” Danny grumbled, plucking his hat from his head and resting it over his face.

With a scoff, Mickey pulled his fin from his mouth, taking his newly pulled tooth with it, “I said ‘we didn’t even get the cash’!”

“Did you just…”

You trailed off, Mickey giving you a questioning look as he tossed his tooth over his shoulder.

“Gross.”

“What?”

“Your fucking- whatever. Look, are you guys okay? Do you need help? I’ve got a first aid kit.”

“Nah, we’re good, Y/N,” Leonard said, though the way he was clutching his arm said otherwise, “maybe just some, uh, headache medicine or something? Y’know that stuff?”

“...Ibuprofen?”

“Gazuntite.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose with a sigh, and heard Danny snicker from across the room.

“I’m getting the kit,” you said, “sit down.”

“Y/N, really-”

“Sit. Down.”

Not eager to risk incurring your wrath, Leonard took a reluctant seat on the couch, and Mickey sat on his right, slumping back against the pillow behind him.

You wasted no more time dipping out to make a quick stop in your bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit from under the sink and making sure to wash your hands for good measure. You hadn’t planned on stitching anything today, but you always made a habit of being prepared for it. Especially when you hung out with the people you did.

Upon returning to the living room, you took a seat on the arm of the couch to Leonard’s left, opening the kit between your legs and snapping on a pair of latex gloves.

“Mind if I ask...the hell are you doing?”

Leonard has his eyes trained on you in a cautious stare. It was obvious he hadn’t put the pieces together yet.

“Stitching this giant gash in your arm,” you explained, “so it doesn’t get infected, and so you don’t bleed all over my furniture.”

That was a joke, of course. The wound had already begun to dry.

“You’re qualified for that?” Danny asked. He’d come out from under his hat at that point and was straightening up to get a better view of the situation.

“Yeah,” you said, “I’ve done it to a banana.”

Several bananas, actually. And several people. But you thought it was funnier to watch Danny’s eyes bulge than let him know you knew what you were doing.

“Cool!” Mickey said, “Len’s gonna get a new scar!”

“Will you shut-”

“Just relax,” you said, “I’ve got mystic painkillers. Don’t worry about it.”

You could tell both Leonard and Danny were still skeptical about the idea, but they trusted you enough to let you do your thing. So, after wetting a towel and wiping the bloodied area on Leonard’s arm clean, you gave him a mystic painkiller, popped open a sterilized suture, and went to work.

“This is the coolest thing you’ve ever done,” you heard Mickey whisper from across the couch, watching with a surprising amount of admiration as you began to thread the first suture through.

“Cooler than that time I punched a police officer?”

“Way cooler.”

After finishing off and cutting the first suture, you popped open a second one and restarted the process. You could tell Leonard was still anxious from the way the muscles in his arm clenched as he rested his wrist on your leg, and you gave him a reassuring smile to try and help calm his nerves.

“Say...you’re not half bad at this.”

You hadn’t noticed Danny standing beside the couch until he spoke up.

“I hope so,” you said, “I’ve done this a lot, you know?”

“Yeah, on fruits,” Leonard grumbled.

“And people,” you added, “I’m not a noob.”

“How come you never told us?” Danny asked, “we could’ve been coming to you the whole time we’ve known ya and you were holding out on us?”

You shrugged, finishing off the second suture and cutting the excess string, “you never asked.”

Danny didn’t have a reply to that, so he just fell into silence and watched as you continued your work.

After about ten more minutes, you’d finished two more sutures and successfully stitched Leonard’s wound up. He was starting to complain about getting sore at that point, so you gave him the bottle of mystic painkillers and began unfurling a roll of bandages to wrap his arm up.

“Woah,” Mickey said, leaning across the couch to get a good look at your work, “that’s epic, dude!”

“Thanks,” you said, then used your elbow to push him away, “don’t breathe on it.”

Reluctantly, Mickey flopped back onto his side of the couch, and you went about wrapping Leonard’s arm.

“Am I the only one unsettled that you know how to do this?” Leonard said.

“No way, dude, this is so cool!” Mickey said, “you ever done stitches on yourself?”

“Well, I’ve never robbed a bank and gotten sliced up by the police before, so no.”

You finished wrapping Leonard’s arm and gave his hand a tap to let him know he could take it away. He did, and you excused yourself to go dispose of your gloves and clean up the first aid kit, placing it on the floor beside the couch once you were done.

“So, how you feeling?” Danny asked, nodding to Leonard’s arm.

“Sore as hell,” he said, “but...Y/N really knows their stuff.”

“‘Course I do,” you said, then pointed to Mickey, “you’re next.”

“Epic. Can you stitch my tooth back in?”

“Literally not even if you paid me.”

[allofthefeelings]

In your commentary on Stranger Things on Twitter, you mentioned the way the show presupposes allocisheterosexuality about El despite that she was fully removed from "normal girlhood" socialization most of her life. And yeah, I've had problems with that since s1. The show has an unfortunate tendency of treating her as Nerd Boy's Dream Girl rather than fully examining the reality and trauma of her experience.

Oh jeez, yeah.

If you don't follow me on Twitter you may not know that I kind of watched... all of Stranger Things? I'd finished the first three seasons of In Treatment, the new In Treatment wasn't starting yet, it was a whole THING.

Anyway.

I have been thinking about this a lot, because on the surface El should absolutely be my character. She's a kid, extraordinarily gifted, isolated and abused so her talents can be exploited, who figures out how to fight back. And there are parts of El's storyline that I really, really like. But I'm overall frustrated with her narrative, because... wait, this gets long. And has spoilers for all three seasons. And talks about Billy's plots so CW for multiple kinds of abuse narratives here!

First of all, the things done to Eleven don't make logistical sense. I am ALL IN on an evil governmental/science conglomerate kidnapping special children and torturing them into using their special powers against their enemies. Characters overcoming that is my catnip.

But for El to be useful, she needs to function as more than just a tape recorder! We see this when she mindwalks to people but lacks the ability to know what things mean- she doesn't know what Illinois is, for example, or why the girls with Billy might be screaming for non-terrible reasons.

(BILLY'S PLOT IS AN ABOMINATION, YOU DON'T PORTRAY A BULLY AS AN ABUSED KID AND THEN HAVE ADULT WOMEN WITH KIDS HIS AGE LUSTING AFTER HIM ONE EPISODE LATER. But that is a whole separate post.)

El not knowing what a friend or a promise is may make her interesting for the show, and interesting to a bunch of teen boys who've just discovered her, but it limits her usefulness to the evil government! Like, it's great she can crush a can with her mind and listen to people from any distance but if she doesn't understand what they're talking about, you have no guarantee she's going to come away with the important information, and then this poor child once again has a nosebleed for no fucking reason. It's painful and cruel to her, which I accept they don't care about, but it's also INEFFICIENT IF YOU'RE A MAD SCIENTIST. Like I get that evil scientists aren't great with the long game but this is shoddy evil science and that offends me.

ANYWAY.

They make El a very "born yesterday" character, but it's not consistent how. She can speak and understand others, she can perform tasks, she's very good at violence, she has a moral code established despite the evil scientists who were the only people she interacted with (who could have just... raised her with a moral code that fit theirs, no harm no foul? THEY'RE VERY BAD AT EVIL SCIENCING). She had a friend, Kali, but doesn't know what friends are. She understands parental figures- she calls Brenner "Papa"; she knows who "Mama" is- but her feelings about parental figures don't seem at all impacted by how "Papa" was abusive. All of this combines to make her feel unmoored, as a character; I don't have a baseline of how she's understanding the world, and because we perceive her through the boys, it's really hard to find firm footing.

And then season three. I get that what we see is a lot of El trying to figure out what she likes by trying on other people's preferences for size, and that makes sense, but we never see her growing, so much as adopting one person and then another and then another. As you mentioned me complaining about already, in season three her desires match perfectly with those of a stereotypical allocishet teen girl from an 80s movie. And yes, Stranger Things is an 80s movie pastiche, but the boys are allowed to move beyond that in terms of what they want; El doesn't. She wants to make out with her boyfriend with the door closed, even though this has no rebellious value when you weren't raised with these values to begin with, and the soundtrack to her mall trip (which Max even SAYS is about figuring out what she wants, not what other people want her to want) is Material Girl! LIKE SHE'S BEING MATERIALISTIC RATHER THAN FIGURING OUT WHAT SHE WANTS!

(ALSO THIS SHOW IS CLEARLY LEANING ON HAVING AN ADULT AUDIENCE, SO PLEASE STOP SHOWING KIDS MAKING OUT, IT'S VERY DISQUIETING.)

Let's also talk about how the scenes with possessed!Billy kidnapping El are absolutely chock full of rape imagery, when El is a child, Billy is shown as abused by his dad and abusive to Max and kidnapping his fellow lifeguard and objectified by all the women at the pool, and yet El's fear doesn't reflect that. Even if El doesn't know pop culture, she clearly knows danger, and it's like the show doesn't recognize that even a young teen girl is aware of predatory behaviors because it's impossible to live in the world- even in a sheltered world limited mostly to an evil lab and a cabin in the woods with a TV- without knowing.

MOREOVER, El exists less as person than as a deus ex machina; every season, things get dangerous and she has to hurt herself (those constant bloody noses cannot be pleasant) rescue everyone else over and over while no one appreciates her. She wants to stop the bad men but we don't have a grip on exactly why she knows they're bad (besides trying to make her kill an animal, but I come back to why does she have the morality to know she shouldn't? and how does she know anyone else in the world is better?) and while I actually am fully on-board with a kid being raised to see herself as a tool lacking self-worth because she was never taught to value herself, the narrative should be contesting that! And it's not! And I don't understand!

All of this works if you only see El through the boys' lens, and only see El as an accessory to their story. But for El to be a character, rather than a nerd's wet dream, she has to have her own motivations and her own code. We get tantalizing glimpses of it- more from her time with Max than with anyone else- and we see her comforted (by Joyce and by Hop at different times, also DON'T GET ME STARTED ON HOPPER IN S3 IT IS A PROBLEM), but I feel like the show wants her to be mysterious to us because she's mysterious to Mike and his friends, without bothering to make that mystery consistent enough to root her.

I want El to be my character so badly, because she has all the pieces I normally gravitate to- and let's be honest here, River Tam and Natasha Romanoff and Micah Sanders don't exactly get fully fleshed out in their canons either- but she doesn't fit together for me. They've simultaneously given us too much and not enough, so she's a series of tropes that I can't Frankenstein together into a story for her that takes into account both her knowledge and her lack-of-knowledge but doesn't explicitly reject pieces of canon we've been given, which were supplied more in service of Mike's story than of El's.

And that makes Robin, Erica, and Kali all far more interesting characters to me, despite every instinct I have that El really really really SHOULD be who I gravitate to.

[therobishow]

I think I'm done with podcasts made by men

I love listening to podcasts while I work. Especially ones related to history, film, and literature.

And damn near every time I try listening to ones that are made by men, I end up hitting a point where I have to stop listening and switch to something else. There's always a point where they say something that is so ignorant, blatantly sexist, etc., that I just can't take it.

Often times it's the host buying into a very male-centered lens of interpreting whatever it is they're discussing. And, you know, that's kind of expected. They're men. They're viewing things as men. I get that and I'm usually willing to just roll my eyes and move on. But then it keeps happening, or gets much worse than what can be excused by simple ignorance. And then I can't just roll my eyes anymore. I just want to start yelling. And that's not a good energy to have while I'm trying to do my job. So I switch over to something else.

A good example of this happened today. I was listening to a podcast called History by Hollywood. I found it because I'm a huge fan of History Buffs on Youtube. Comparing historical fiction to the actual history is fascinating to me. I love learning about the real event and how it's translated into fiction. But...it got bad. Real fucking bad.

Now, I can't place all the blame on the creators of HbH. They had guests who do a podcast that I think is called Green Screen, which discusses films through an environmental lens. And I definitely will not be listening to that podcast after hearing them today.

The episode was about Gorillas in the Mist, which is biopic about Dr. Dian Fossey. If you don't know who Dian Fossey is, look her up. She was one of the group known as the Trimates, sometimes called Leakey's Angels. The group consisted of three women who were expert primatologists: Birute Galdikas, who studied orangutans; Jane Goodall, possibly the most well known of the three, who studied chimpanzees; and Fossey herself, who studied gorillas. I would love to write hundreds of pages about how awesome and unbelievably badass these women are/were. Seriously, learn about these women if you haven't already. They are amazing.

Anyway, the episode was about Dr. Fossey. My first issue is that, despite her PhD, they never once referred to her with her proper title. This is upsettingly common with women who have earned doctorates. Men never want to call them Doctor. It frustrates me to no end. But that's not nearly the worst of it. They went on to discuss how she became pregnant twice during her time in Rwanda. She chose to abort both pregnancies because she did not want pregnancy or motherhood to interfere with her work with the gorillas. One of the GS guys commented on this saying "I suppose her reasons could be considered valid." Um, excuse me? First of all, why do you think that you get to decide whether or not she had valid reasons? You don't. Second, of course her reasons are valid. Whatever a woman's reasons are for having an abortion are valid. She's the only one who gets to make that decision. So fuck right off with that. Sorry for getting a bit heated here, but that really pissed me off. There was no need for a comment like that. Especially since it makes it sound like he doesn't actually think her reasons are valid, but is scared of catching heat so tried to sugarcoat it.

Moving on, TW: rape, they also got into the fact that Dr. Fossey stated that she was repeatedly raped by soldiers in 1966 over the course of two weeks. People freaking love to claim that this is "disputed" or "exaggerated" and some go as far as to claim that it was an outright lie. Why? Because she originally claimed that she was treated well and then escorted to the border. Later on, she admitted that she was actually beaten and raped. I'm not going to delve too far into this because a) this post is already way longer than I intended, and b) I will get SO MAD. For the sake of brevity, I'm just going to say that I believe that she was raped, and that she initially lied because she was not ready for this information to become public. The hosts however...well, they'd like to claim that they didn't come down on either side of this "debate" and simply presented facts. But they totally don't think she was raped. They went on and on about all the reasons that she would have lied about being raped, such as political clout, publicity, propaganda, and other dumb reasons. But just couldn't seem to think of any reason that she would have lied about not being raped. Gotta love how men are always able to come up with fifty million reasons why women would make false accusations. It's absolutely not in any way revealing how they think of women.

They also got into the admittedly shitty things that Dr. Fossey did during her time in Rwanda. She wasn't perfect, and she did do some rather bad things. Her approach to conservation work was very much steeped in a colonialist mindset. I'm not about to deny that. And they did do a good job of explaining some of the more overlooked facts of poaching--most African poachers aren't cartoon villains who want to destroy nature. Many are farmers who are killing animals that threaten their crops and/or livestock. And then they get offered lots of money to do it. It's not a simple issue, and doesn't have a simple solution. I don't have a problem with them addressing this, and I'm glad that they did. However, and this is a pretty big HOWEVER, they also didn't discuss any of the great things she did. She saved a huge number of gorillas. She helped improve the Rwandan economy. She fought against multiple colonialist organizations trying to exploit Rwanda and it's wildlife. She helped to revolutionize the field of primatology. There's so much that we know now that we only know because of her. They also decided that the fact that she's a heavily revered and respected figure in Rwanda was worth a few sentences and that was it.

They referred to her as cold and unfeeling multiple times, largely due to her relationship with Bob Campbell, who was married when they met. Apparently the fact that she didn't stick with him for her whole life means that she's cold and uncaring. Ugh. I just fucking can't with this.

And the cherry on top, they made jokes about her murder. Yep. Dr. Fossey was horribly and brutally murdered with a machete in December of 1985. And they apparently think that's funny. Now, I know that some of the people who were close to Dr. Fossey have also made jokes regarding her death. However, there are several Grand Canyon-sized differences between someone using humor to cope with the death of someone they loved, and some assholes with a podcast making jokes about the brutal murder of a woman they never met. They also said that it doesn't matter who killed her or if they're ever caught. Which...no? It very much matters who snuck into this woman's home in the middle of the night and used a machete to brutally murder her. It very much matters if this person is caught. I can't even imagine trying to say that it doesn't matter if an actual murderer is ever caught.

All of this goes into a huge problem when it comes to studying history, especially the history of science. Women are always scrutinized more heavily, always criticized with more vitriol, and always have their enormous accomplishments either left out entirely or pushed to side. I almost never see male scientists given this treatment. Edison comes close, but he always gets quite a bit of "Yeah, he was awful, but let's not forget all the awesome things he did!" Women however get "Yeah, she did a few cool things for science, but let's not forget that she had an abortion!"

I just can't handle this shit anymore. If you managed to get all the way to the end of this wall of text (yay) please recommend me some good history/literature podcasts created by women. I will love you so much.

[sp00kworm]

2388 - Start Log

Pairings: None

Warnings: Murder, Animal Death, Child Death.

---

A/N: This is based on some very vague headcanons I have about Revenant’s past and I wanted to write in a new kind of style. 

---

Revenant held the small recording in his hand, his metal fingers stretching at the alloy as he looked at the unmarked, thin chip. It was black and sleek, tiny in the scale of things, but somehow untouched out on that dust bowl planet. His burning orange eyes shifted to focus on it again before he stood from the chair and slammed open the door to the lounge room, leaving with a grumble towards Elliott who was on his way in. The man jumped out of his way with a high-pitched screech and watched him stalk down the hall. Revenant made sure to hunch his plated shoulders before he climbed the stairs and stalked down the hallways of the dorm area, making sure that none of the others were following him before he opened his room and closed the door. It was dark and dusty, but the Simulacrum was quick to pull open his drawers to find the one item he really wanted. The chip reader. He pulled the old technology from the drawer and opened the small insertion plate with a claw. The hole cover popped open and he placed the chip inside and flicked the holoscreen display up. The blue light was dull with age, but it flickered to life before displaying a blurry image and the option to play.

 In front of him sat himself. He had relatively short, blond hair pulled back with a fine toothed, ivory comb he remembered buying from a group of hunters. He reached to his chest pockets subconsciously. He always kept it in his breast pocket. With a growl he swiped at the play button and heard it click. For a moment it was quiet as the ghost of himself looked to the high window in the metal wall. He rolled his blue eyes and leaned back in the chair as the sound of a giant, heavy loader holo-vehicle roared. The engines seared the microphone for a moment before the assassin sighed and reached to undo another button of his shirt. There was a discarded head scarf and cloak on the chair behind him as he played with a knife along his fingers. The audio crackled and popped before synching properly and pausing. Revenant hit play again when it was finished and listened.

“Start Log. 2388. It’s been twenty-eight hours since I eliminated the target and counting. I’m in a safe house by the delivery routes back into the city. Shit hole of a back water place. Its barely a city, more of a god forsaken dustbowl. A place like this for a mafia causing so much trouble.” The blond man scoffed at the screen before the sound of a pistol chamber snapping came through the static. He raised the pistol before unscrewing the silencer and pulling the magazine free with a practiced movement, “One bullet to the back of the skull. Executioner style. I capped him in front of his latest little conquest. She screamed a lot. I got blood on my boot covers. They’re camel skin. I better get reimbursed for those.” He took apart the gun with practiced ease, the pieces set along the table in a neat, perfect line, from start to finish, “Anyway. Targets dead and I’m waiting for transport back. Hammond have left me high and dry again, for the third time this year. I wonder what I could do to get some more special treatment from them.” Kaleb grinned with white, perfect teeth, his cheek bones cutting an impressive figure before he reached to touch the scruff along his jaw. He scoffed at it and reached into his waistcoat for a long, thin shaving blade.

 The blade slid open and was brandished like a weapon, the metal flashing before he raised it to his cheeks and dragged it over the new stubble, brushing it away onto a small tissue he also had, but it didn’t stop him from continuing to talk around the blade. Revenant reached for his face and ran his fingers over the scratches in his metal cheek bones. He relapsed often into his human habits, not that he would ever admit it.

“I would get it if these guys were some big-league assholes, but they’re barely an issue. I’ve seen worse, but I suppose this is what stealing weapons will get you out here. The Outlands have never been fuckin’ kind.” He threw the slip blade on the table in front of the camera, “I’d know that better than most.” Kaleb looked the camera in the lens, and Revenant wondered if he had been speaking to someone in that moment as his lips twisted in contemplation, “Fuck it. It’s not like anyone will ever find this.” He leaned back in his seat and started to pick up each piece of the pistol, looking them over before he screwed them back together in slow, precise movements of his wrist

“The Outlands is a shit hole. It always has been since Mister Hammond decided to colonize it. Sand, shit and people killing each other. Its always been the same, despite what they all say. Murder, homicide and genocide.” He paused putting together the gun in order to open a small satchel, and pulled free a packet of tobacco and rollers, Kaleb continued to talk as he took the leaves and placed them into a white paper, “Even this shit was fought over. Hybrid tobacco with no tar. Cartels killed villages over it.” The paper crinkled quietly as he put the filter in and rolled it up, tapping the end against the table before he snapped open a metal lighter and lit it, puffing for a moment before he blew smoke out of the side of his mouth, “The Outlands are a cess pit, that’s what I’m saying.”

 His old self smoked for a while before he held the cigarette in his lips and squinted, getting back to work on fixing the last pieces of the pistol back together with a little grease from another bottle from the satchel, “But its where literally everyone was born now. Earth’s been dead for a long, long time. Including, yes you might have guessed, me.” Kaleb span his pistol and cocked the chamber before he slid the magazine in again and pulled a bullet up into the chamber, “I was born to some power plant family, or so the Matron said. Six months old and they threw me on the doorstep before the plant went bust and blew. I’m not surprised somehow, but the orphanage wasn’t derelict. It was funded for by Hammond. They took kids into the programs there. I wasn’t an exception. I was scouted at fifteen into the special ops program.” A haunting smile spread across his face, “I killed a captain at fourteen, that’s what got me enlisted. It got better though, guns were much easier to use than knives from the kitchen and Matron never did like me taking knives and running with ‘em.” He took his cigarette from his mouth and flicked ash off the end, “Kaleb where has the neighbours dog gone?!” He screeched, “Always nag, nag, nag that woman.” He grumbled as he took another drag, “She probably meant well in the end. Too bad what happened to her as well. I put a pillow over her face when I got enlisted. No survivors allowed. The rest died in the fire.”

 The ash was building up in the clear glass ash tray now, “The Matron wanted me to go anyway, its not like she ever loved us or any of that stupid holo-film shit.” He scoffed and played with his cigarette end, “I used to like animals…well, like was a strong word. I used to test them. There was a hundred stray dogs near us, so I used to take pieces of my dinner and see which would come and take it from me. Whichever dog came close, if they could do a trick, then I gave it ‘em. If they followed me, well I used to like knives, you can guess the rest. They’re easy to trick. Cats though, cats were much better fun. I could never get one to come near me. It’s like they knew I had a knife somehow. One came close once, but it got away, screaming, and biting me before it got up a tree. It stayed there the whole day sleeping until I got bored. I didn’t see it again, but I started taking rats and mice from the kitchen for them. They liked the chase I think, just like I did…Or maybe they just liked me killing the dogs, huh?” He let out a long, raspy, dark chuckle before he stubbed out his cigarette and looked at the lens again, “Why the fuck am I spilling my guts to a recording? I’ll be dead if anyone finds this…well, maybe I just want that challenge.”

 His finger appeared before he chuckled again and pushed his fingers together, “The days at the academy were boring in comparison. I wasn’t allowed out of the facility. I wasn’t allowed knives. I wasn’t allowed to do anything that I wanted. I choked a boy to death on the mat. The prick decided I was a ‘country bumpkin’, so I decided he wasn’t worth the air he breathed. He was purple when they found him. I was careful, I bleach wiped his neck and my hands. They never knew it was me, but I got harsher training for it. They suspected it was me, but there was no evidence.” Kaleb rolled another cigarette before he rummaged for a can in his bag. He pulled out an all-in-one shake from the pack and drank it down without so much as a minor twitch. Revenant remembered them. They tasted like milk and iron, “Otherwise. I do this because I’m good at it. I always have been good at it. Best in the business. I do the dirty jobs that others won’t because of morals.” He reached for the button, “And that’s about it. End log.” The recording ended as he blew more smoke out of the side of his mouth.

 Revenant looked at the black screen for a moment, orange and black optics spinning to adjust, magnifying in and out before he snapped open the port again and tore the chip free, anger burning his chest. He growled and crushed the chip between two clawed fingers. His processors saved the data and he sat back on a chair in order to move and hide the data from those responsible for uploading him. He didn’t need anyone knowing these things. The chip sat in his palm in tiny, crushed pieces of plastic and metal.

“The past is dead.” He muttered before he unlocked the window and threw the pieces out of it, “Its best it stayed buried.” Revenant growled again before he moved to his charging port and slid the wire up into his chasis.