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dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3 · 4 years ago

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Another Life

Hi guys!! So, I mentioned in the last chapter of TPWP that I had a short-ish one shot about IshiMondo following Mondo murdering Chihiro in the canon universe. I will warn y’all that this... this is a sad fic. If I were posting this on AO3 (which I will, eventually, I think) there would be the Major Character Death warning, so... yeah.

Anyway. I just wanted to say something real quick before getting onto the fic. Feel free to skip if you don’t care. But y’all will realize as you read that this is not really my usual style of writing. I tend to prefer to be big on the details and emotion, since that sort of thing is what interests me most. This story, though, is more... barebones. I’m telling more than showing, and there is one main reason for this. This fic... it’s sad, but if I wrote in my usual style, it would be devastating. For me, at least. I got the idea for this fic months ago, maybe even before TPWP, just a quick “I wonder what an interaction between Mondo and Taka would be like after Mondo killed Chihiro would be like.”

I immediately dismissed the idea once I went down the path and realized how sad it would be, though. I love writing angst, right? I don’t think I’ve ever written a single story without some measure of angst or sadness. It’s just... what I do, ya know? But the one thing I cannot stand is hopelessness. It’s why I don’t like Danganronpa much, since it’s such a hopeless story, even if some of the students get out. It’s hopeless, and more than that, it’s pointless. The death and all that. There’s no reason for it at all, and I just... I hate stories like that, with no hope of a true happy ending. And this idea... it ends kind of hopelessly. I hate that sort of thing.

But I couldn’t stop thinking of this story. It kept coming back, again and again, and eventually... I caved and knew I had to do something. So I wrote this. I swear, it was supposed to be short! Just 1,000-2,000 words that explained the idea, to get it off my mind. I’d have posted it here and been like “hey guys, see this weird idea I had??? Man, wouldn’t it be crazy if I wrote this???” But then! I started putting more details in, like I always do. And then dialogue showed up. And by the time I finished my first writing session and went off to work, sending the story from my phone to my computer to check the word count, I had written over 6,000 words. And I wasn’t even done. Only then did I realize... this was a fic, dear god. Not my usual kind of fic, but... a fic nonetheless. I finished writing it then, and then went back to add some more detail to the first 6,000 words to make it at least a little like a fic.

Now, I know this was a long explanation, but I just... I’m anxious about this fic. It’s been on my mind for ages and I don’t know if I like the style. I oddly think it fits the story, though, given how messed up Mondo would be after what he did, so there is that. But I just... if y’all could please let me know what you think, I would appreciate it. I do plan on posting this to AO3 and FF . net eventually, but having feedback would help, if y’all wouldn’t mind. If y’all like this style of writing... I may be able to get more ideas out without taking months to write the whole thing. It doesn’t preclude me from writing full fics eventually, but it allows me to get more ideas out. So just... let me know, yeah?

Anyway! Here’s the fic! The main warning is that there is a major character death, since this, ya know... follows canon. It follows Mondo’s POV, and there is very mild sexual content. More referenced than truly shown, but it is there.

Enjoy!

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Another Life

Summary: Mondo finds himself outside of Taka’s room following the events in the boy’s changing room, his head a mess and heart even worse. While he knows he doesn’t deserve it, he finds comfort in Taka’s arms anyway.

Mondo finds himself leaving the exercise slash changing room in a daze, his body having rearranged the furniture to respect- respect Chihiro and his gender on autopilot, his head a complete mess and feeling so incredibly sick. He has always hated himself, more so after what happened with his brother, but he is positive he has never hated himself more than he currently does, the phantom sensation of bright pink blood staining his hands lingering, even though he has scrubbed them clean a dozen times.

In his distraction, he finds himself meandering through the halls without any real idea of what he’s doing, where he’s going, his brain not quite registering what he’d done, his mind wanting to reject it even as he knows he’d done it. While he has always hated himself and his tendency for violence and anger, he’d once never seen himself as the kind of person who could murder anyone, especially not someone smaller and weaker than him. Not even when he was at his angriest and wanted to hurt someone desperately. And he doesn’t know how to handle the reality of what he just did.

While walking aimlessly, he realizes that he somehow has found himself back in the dorm hallway, stomach clenched and angry, wanting to throw up but doing all he can to not do so. He tries to force his feet to walk over to where his dorm room is, but finds his legs won’t let him, his mind warring with his body. He is exhausted, has never felt so tired, but he doesn’t know if he can stay in that room by himself all night long. He... he truly doesn’t.

It takes him a minute, but he eventually realizes that he’s been standing outside Taka’s room for several long minutes, just staring at the little depiction of the kid on the door, staring like his life depends on it. For the first time since- since, he... he feels something. Anything. He has no idea what that something is, but... but...

Before he can tell himself not to, his hand is rising and ringing the doorbell, once, twice, three times, before falling back to his side dully, hating himself somehow even more for likely waking Taka, but not knowing what else to do. What even is he supposed to do, now? After... after...

A few moments pass and Mondo is just about to bail and leave Taka alone, forever, when the door opens, a sleepy but still overly concerned looking Taka standing there, taking Mondo’s breath away. The kid is wearing his sleep clothes, a white and ragged undershirt and a pair of white briefs, nothing else. Mondo has seen Taka naked before, since Taka had insisted that they ‘bare themselves to each other’ a few days before, but somehow... somehow this seems even more intimate. Seeing Taka wearing so few clothes, all sleep warm and scraggly haired, and… and…

He gets jolted from his thoughts when Taka hesitantly and yet still earnestly asks if he’s alright, inviting him inside without a single thought, not a single care for his own safety or- or anything.

For some reason, that angers Mondo greatly. And while he does find himself entering the room, his legs forcing him forward despite himself, he can’t help but yell at Taka, his frustration at all of it coming out. He snarls at the kid, low and angry, asking him why the hell he would ever open his door for anyone during this stupid ‘game,’ let alone let them into his room in the middle of the night, his fear and frustration coming out in a way he doesn’t want, doesn’t want at all.

Rather than get angry, though, Taka just stares at Mondo with wide eyes as he rants, and when Mondo is finally done, his exhaustion overcoming him again, Taka... Taka calmly and confusedly replies that he only opened the door because he could see through the peephole that it was Mondo, saying quite earnestly that he trusts Mondo completely and knows he has nothing to fear from him. His guileless and innocent words make Mondo feel disgusting, the reality of what he’d just done hitting him, and he finds himself getting angry again despite how tired he is.

He yells at Taka again, then, words that he doesn’t even register but that just burst out anyway, all his anger and frustration releasing from him as he rants. Taka just lets him, a small frown on his face, but when Mondo starts saying that he is a monster and only a goddamn, fuckin’ monster, Christ, Taka apparently has enough and marches over to Mondo, ignoring the deadly (and scared) glare that Mondo gives him in warning. And then... then, Taka places his hands on Mondo’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eye, a small and yet encouraging smile on his lips as his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm and trust, destroying Mondo entirely. Fuck...

“That is untrue, kyoudai! I used to think you were only a criminal and a no-good biker, but I have seen the best of you this last week and I know that you are more than that! So much more! You are kind, and caring, and gentle, and very, very good! I know I have nothing to fear from you, kyoudai, no matter what! I understand you have self-esteem issues, my dearest kyoudai, but you needn’t worry! I trust you and always will! I promise! A man’s promise!”

The words utterly destroy Mondo, his insides clenching and breaking and hurting, and he wants to cry but he knows he can’t, he doesn’t have the right, not after what he had done. But he can’t help the way his stomach lurches at the earnest look Taka gives him, his heart beating fast, and he knows exactly what it is he feels for Taka. Has known from the moment he set eyes on him in the main hall, so much at odds considering their respective talents, but it was so clear to him even despite that. He never has felt anything like this for anyone, certainly not so soon after meeting them, but... but he does. He most definitely, truly does.

At the time, he had even had an absent thought of how Taka just seemed so familiar to him. How— even though he knows they’d never met before; he’d most certainly remember a person like Taka— it was like he knew him intimately somehow. He’d tried pushing it away, especially considering the twisted game they were being forced to play, but he’d never been able to fully push the feeling inside him away. And when they’d had their sauna battle and became kyoudai, he knew he couldn’t deny how he felt for Taka any longer, even though it had only been a couple of short, stressful weeks that they’d ‘known’ each other.

But... as stressed out and scared and terrified as Mondo currently feels, he can’t help the desire that rises inside him, looking into Taka’s wide and trusting eyes. Part of Mondo wants to destroy that trust, to break Taka and prove to him that Mondo is just a monster that doesn’t deserve anything good, but he finds he just can’t, the thought of it breaking him more than he’s ever been broken before. And when he sees Taka’s eyes dart down to his lips after several long minutes of staring into one another’s eyes, Taka’s lips parting on a shaky breath... Mondo’s slim hold on himself breaks.

Leaning forward, Mondo kisses Taka angrily, firmly, somehow finding a way to hate himself even more for doing such a thing when he sure as hell does not deserve it, not after what he did. And yet, despite his anger, and self-hatred, and pain, pain, pain, he quickly finds himself softening the kiss, since— even with how angry and scared he is— he doesn’t want to hurt Taka. Not now. Not ever.

Taka doesn’t kiss back, though, not even after several long, long moments. It’s just as Mondo is pulling back, heart pounding and breaking and aching, thinking he’s ruined everything and that Taka will finally see how much of a monster he is, will hate him, fuck, Taka...

Taka lets out a soft noise, the sound not at all something Mondo can decipher, before he kisses back. Messy, and clumsy, and clearly inexperienced, but Mondo sure as hell doesn’t care. Not one single, goddamn bit. Not when Taka is as enthusiastic and passionate as ever, his lack of experience getting more than made up for by his enthusiasm and passion.

Mondo finds himself walking Taka backwards, Taka following willingly, trustingly, until Taka’s back is pressed against the wall, Mondo kissing him like his life depends on it. And, in a way, he thinks desperately that it does. It truly, truly does.

Because he knows. Right? What’s going to happen in the morning. That someone will find the body and a goddamn trial will begin, and while Mondo had done all he could to cover his tracks, he knows he’s not the smartest person and that there are likely so many fucking things he missed that a smarter and more capable person would have noticed. And he knows that... that if they don’t, that if no one notices and they accuse wrong and Mondo doesn’t get- get executed, then... then the whole class will. And that includes... includes...

Taka pulls back from the kiss first, and Mondo is terrified that it’s because he somehow knows what Mondo did and that he’s disgusted by him, that he hates him, oh god. But before he can utter anything, any apologies he doesn’t deserve or sorrow he shouldn’t be allowed to feel, he feels Taka’s hand gently touch his cheek, wiping away the tears that he hadn’t felt begin to fall. Taka is looking at him with such gentle concern that it breaks him again, and he wants to destroy everything, wants to scream, and rage, and cry, but Taka is talking before he can, and Mondo can do nothing more than listen, desperate and aching.

“Mondo... it’s okay, kyoudai, really! Do not cry, I... I wanted to do that. Very, very much! ... I do not know how to explain it, but from the moment I met you, I knew there was more to you than meets the eye. I... I have felt, er... things for you since that very moment! Things I’ve never... never felt for anyone else... aha. B-but please, kyoudai, do not cry! It... it’s okay, Mondo. I promise. I guarantee it! We will get out of here, you’ll see! No one would ever actually kill over something as silly as a secret, and then that darn bear will see that we will never do as he asks, and then we will be free! All of us, kyoudai. N-no one else will die and then we... w-we can be together! If you... i-if you would want that, a-aha...”

Mondo feels broken again at Taka’s enthusiastic words, despising himself as he sees how earnestly Taka believes this, even still, even after having learned that one classmate had tried to kill the other, only to get killed herself. Even after being forced to watch as another classmate got pummeled to death by baseballs, and another skewered by spears.

Mondo has a moment to despair for Taka and his trusting nature, and he wants so badly to yell. To scream at Taka and ask him what the hell his problem is, ask him why he is being so delusional, but he finds that he... he just can’t. And as he looks deeper into Taka’s eyes, as he looks closer than he’s ever looked into anyone before, he... he sees that Taka isn’t entirely being truthful. He can see the fear that is swirling within him, can see the lie that is in his words, even if Taka doesn’t allow himself to see it.

And he realizes... he realizes that, while Taka may be naive, may be trusting… he does know what is happening, in some regard. But... but he is doing all he can to pretend that it’s okay. That this will all end up okay. This is just- just his way of coping, telling himself lies that it will be okay, even though part of him knows that it won’t. Knows that... that there is a very real possibility that he will just... die here.

A reality that Mondo suddenly knows will happen to himself come morning.

Because... because, if he doesn’t get found out... if he doesn’t get accused properly by the class, if the trial goes in his favor... then Taka will die, Taka and the rest of their class, and that idea is suddenly so wrong to Mondo. That... that Mondo should survive at the expense of their class. At the expense of Taka. He...

He doesn’t know. If he’d be able to confess himself, be an active participant in his own death. While he’s always tried so hard to be strong and brave, he’s plagued by the truth that he’s not, not really. Not at all. But he knows he can’t let Taka die because of his mistake. His murder. And in that moment... he knows. No matter what, he will die the next day. That day, really, it’s so late. As he looks into Taka’s eyes, seeing the hidden fear that lurks within them, the terror and anguish the boy tries so hard to hide... he knows.

And he knows that he doesn’t want to die without knowing what Taka feels like. God...

Surging forward, Mondo kisses Taka again, desperate and needy and full of pain, but so good, too. And Taka kisses back, just as desperate, just as needy, making noises that drives Mondo out of his goddamn mind, but he doesn’t stop. He feels himself lifting the thin undershirt Taka is wearing, tossing it over his shoulder as he lets his hands explore the warm and smooth expanse of Taka’s chest. He feels hard, harder than he’s ever felt before, and he wants so, so bad. He presses his hips to Taka’s and moans when he feels an answering hardness, Taka letting out a small shout at the feeling. He knows that Taka is enjoying himself, knows that the boy wants it too, which is why he feels so confused when Taka pulls back, his eyes wide, shaking his head slightly.

Taka then says how they shouldn’t, that it’s improper, that they’re not technically even dating. He insinuates that he wants to wait until they get out before they do things, which upsets Mondo, since he knows that that won’t happen, no matter what Taka is deluding himself to believe. But Mondo... Mondo can’t find it in him to burst Taka’s bubble, not when it’s his last night on earth. The last time he’ll get to spend with Taka. Yeah, he really, really wants to go all the way with Taka, to not die a fucking virgin, but he also doesn’t want to pressure Taka. He doesn’t deserve it, anyway. Not after what he did.

So, Mondo nods, reluctantly, wondering if he should just go or not. If it wouldn’t be better to just... leave now and not hurt Taka anymore.

But then Taka is smiling at him, grabbing his hand, and... and then Taka is kissing him. It’s awkward and clumsy, the boy clearly not knowing what he’s doing, but it’s so endearing to Mondo that he can’t help the warm chuckle he lets out, even if it’s a bit watery. Taka pulls back with a small pout, looking a little annoyed, and Mondo fixes that by grinning brightly, stuffing down the fear inside him, and kissing Taka properly. Taka just lets out a happy sound, annoyance forgotten, and returns the favor in kind, enthusiastic as ever.

Mondo loses himself in the sensation and is a bit shocked to find— several minutes later— that at some point the two of them have migrated over to the bed, lips not parting for a single second. Mondo doesn’t mind at all, though, and finds that he can’t help how he pushes Taka down onto it gently, muttering promises that he won’t go too far, he swears. Taka nods absently at the words, seeming too far gone to even care anymore, but anytime Mondo’s hands accidentally wander too far south, he can feel Taka jolt, which reminds him to keep this PG. It still feels incredible to press down onto Taka as he kisses him, though, knowing then that there is nothing else he ever, ever wants to do in life.

Sometime later— Mondo has no idea how long since time has never meant less to him— he and Taka find themselves lounging together on the bed, Taka’s head on his bare chest, Mondo’s duster and tank top having been discarded at some point. Taka is drawing absent designs on Mondo’s chest, humming happily. Mondo is holding onto Taka tightly, his fear and terror running rampant through him, but it’s manageable when he’s holding Taka so close.

At some point, Mondo manages to let out the words that have been building inside him since he- he did that, his weakness and fear voiced at last.

“I’m scared, Taka,” he finds himself muttering, closing his eyes, breathing deeply and evenly. “So... so fuckin’ scared. K-know ya think we’re gonna get outta here, that no one is gonna- gonna fuckin’ kill anymore, but... I dunno. Yer so fuckin’ good, man. Believin’ the best in people, but I... I ain’t like that. An’ I... s-shit. I’m so fuckin’ terrified that I’m gonna die. I don’t... I don’t wanna die, man. I... I...”

Mondo begins to cry then, hating himself yet again for it, but Taka doesn’t judge him. He just shushes him softly, pulling him close, shifting them so that Mondo’s head is on Taka’s chest now. Mondo’s hair had fallen out of his pompadour at some point, his eyeliner smudged off, and he’s never felt weaker, but somehow... somehow, he doesn’t mind. Not when Taka is there, shushing him softly, kissing his forehead tenderly, eyes soft and caring. He can feel how Taka is shaking, knows that he’s also scared, but damn if Taka lets that be known. Mondo has a moment to think that Taka is probably the strongest person he’s ever met, heart aching, before Taka is speaking. Soft and shaking, but still so incredibly determined.

“You won’t, kyoudai. N-neither will I. We... we will both make it out of this, you’ll see! You and me. Me and- and you. We will get out and we will spend the rest of our lives together. We will finish school and then we will go to university, and I will get a job in politics while you- y-you get a job wherever you would like. We will get married and have children, if we want, and pets, and... and we... we will... we will be happy, kyoudai. Happy. And... and together. I- I promise, kyoudai... Mondo. I... I promise...”

Mondo can hear the way Taka’s voice tremors, can hear the uncertainty and the doubt even despite the confident words, but in that moment... in that moment, he just doesn’t care. He doesn’t care if that’s actually possible or not. He doesn’t care if he and Taka can have that; if he deserves to have that. He just... he doesn’t care.

Instead, he smiles. It’s small at first, but it gets wider and wider the more time that passes, and soon he is laughing. It’s brittle and fragile, but it’s more than he thought he’d ever have, after... well. After what he’d done. He lifts himself off Taka’s chest and looks down at him with liquid soft eyes, smiling with all the love in his heart.

And in that moment... he knows. Knows that he wants that. A life. With Taka. And- and had this whole thing not happened... had they met in better circumstances, better times… they could have had that. A life. A love. Him and Taka; Taka and him. Together forever. He loves Taka, truly and fully, and there is no one on this earth he can imagine ever loving more. And maybe it’s the desperation of the situation, maybe it’s not actually real, but he... he wishes that it could be. Real. That they could have discovered together if it could have been real.

(And in some part of him, deep, deep inside... he knows that it is. He doesn’t believe in reincarnation or things like that, but he knows that this is not the first time he has met Taka. The first time he has fallen in love with him. He doesn’t know what that means, but it’s such a strong belief inside him that he can’t find it in him to contradict it. Not at all. Not even a little.)

And then... while Mondo really wants to be closer to Taka— to feel him, in every sense of the word— he respects Taka’s wishes and keeps his hands to himself. And instead, he... he finds himself talking. He’s still leaning up on his arms, looking down at Taka, while he continues the story Taka had created. Of their life together. He mentions that he would become a carpenter, fixing and creating things rather than always breaking them. That they would live in a shitty apartment that is broken down and crappy at first, but that they would eventually make enough that Mondo would be able to build them a house, large and perfect, built exactly for them and the family they will have. He mentions that they will adopt at least two kids, a boy and a girl, though he wouldn’t mind more. Says that he will spoil them all rotten and do everything he can to ensure that they will never know the hardships that either of them has faced. He talks about the dogs they will own, and the cats too, and other animals, all the animals, their home full and bright and happy, and...

And Taka continues when Mondo’s voice breaks, saying that Taka will start a garden outside, one that he will tend to when he’s not working on his campaign. He will grow fruits and vegetables and herbs that he will use in his cooking, since he apparently enjoys cooking and baking and things like that. He will also grow flowers and other ‘useless’ plants, just because he thinks they look nice, their house full of color and life at all hours.

Mondo finds his voice again and talks about how he would want to start a charity, something to help kids who grow up in rough neighborhoods, giving them options in life other than street gangs and crime. He talks about how his brother always wanted to do that kind of thing, and that he wants to do it in his stead. His voice gets thick again, but it’s okay, because then Taka is leaning up and kissing him, so he doesn’t have to talk anymore anyway.

Mondo has no idea what time it is when they pull back, Mondo shifting them again so that they are facing one another, arms around each other as they cuddle close together. He knows it’s late, thinks it might almost be time for that bear’s fucking morning announcement, but he doesn’t let it get to him. He just holds Taka closer, imagining the life that they created together, a life that could have been theirs— would have been theirs— if only... if only.

At some point they start kissing again, Mondo not knowing who starts it but not really caring. The kiss starts lazy and slow, but is soon getting heated again, Taka’s hands wandering all over his chest, driving Mondo crazy. Eventually Mondo has to grab Taka’s hands desperately in his own when they travel too far south, Mondo letting out a desperate noise as he whispers hoarsely that if Taka doesn’t wanna go farther than this tonight, then they should prolly stop.

To his absolute shock, Taka gets a concentrated look on his face, like he’s thinking deeply about something, and then... then...

Taka takes his hands back from Mondo, and then...

Mondo lets out a strangled curse when he feels Taka’s hand brush against him down there, Taka blushing bright red but looking as determined as ever. Mondo asks him softly what he’s doing, heart racing, and Taka grows even brighter red, but he doesn’t back down. He just hums, softly, and looks Mondo in the eye.

“I... I do not know, kyoudai. I just... I want... hm. I’ve never. Um. Wanted. Not before. But I... with you... hm. I-it is improper, I know, a-and we don’t have to- we... we have time, I know, but... but I...”

Mondo stares at Taka with wide, wonder filled eyes as Taka trembles, his hardness pressing against Mondo’s as they mold themselves to the other’s body. Part of Mondo feels nervous about what Taka is saying. Thinks that he should deny him, should say that Taka should wait, if he wants. But the bigger part of him... the part that knows the future they made up is just that, made up... the part that knows that they both will not make it out of this alive, since Mondo fucked that up already...

It can’t quite find it in him to deny it. Not when he knows this is the only chance he will ever get. Ever.

And so... he kisses Taka again. Deep, meaningful. And he lets his hands wander. Taka lets out noises, enthusiastic and happy, but desperate, too. Needy. And Mondo thinks he knows why. Knows that Taka knows. That this isn’t okay. That neither of them is okay, but fuck, will they pretend they are.

As he slowly pulls down Taka’s briefs, doing his best to not psych himself out, he has a moment to think about how familiar this all feels to him. He’s never done anything like this with anyone, certainly not Taka, but as he grabs Taka in hand, listening as Taka lets out a loud shout, desperate and needy and fuck, he... he knows this is not the first time this has happened. He doesn’t know how he knows, but... but he does. Somehow, that thought comforts him. Greatly.

And when he feels Taka’s hands hesitantly touch him, trail over his body, and hesitantly remove his pants and his boxers, Taka trembling but oh so passionate and determined still... he wishes— not for the first time— that none of this had ever happened. That he’d never come to Hope’s Peak, that Taka had never come to Hope’s Peak. And he doesn’t wish that they’d never met, fuck he doesn’t wish that, but... but maybe they could have met somewhere else. Taka had mentioned once that his father is a police officer. Maybe... maybe they could have met during one of the times when Mondo was inevitably arrested, Taka visiting his father and seeing Mondo, but not feeling afraid, not at all. Maybe Taka would have spoken to Mondo, then, earnest as ever. Maybe he would have offered to help Mondo out, to help him leave his life of crime and settle into a good, meaningful life. And Mondo knows that if that had actually happened in real life, he’d have punched the kid’s lights out, but in this fantasy... in this fantasy, he accepts, and Taka smiles so beautifully at him, and they find a way to have their happy ending. Without this nightmare, without the threat of death looming over them even as they touch one another so softly, so gently, the first time they’ve ever done this but also not.

He pushes the thoughts aside as he gears up the courage to grab himself and Taka in hand together, Taka moaning loudly, Mondo moaning as well. Part of Mondo wants to go further, wants to take all of Taka, but he finds he can’t. Not when he knows what is going to happen in a few short hours. Not when... well. Not when.

But he allows himself this. Allows himself and Taka to build up a steady rhythm together, Taka practically sobbing as Mondo holds him close, shushing him even as he feels like he’s about to fall apart himself. He doesn’t know why Taka is crying, if he’s just overwhelmed or if he, too, realizes what this is. That this isn’t the first in a long line of times they will do things like this, but that it... it’s a goodbye, Mondo’s way of holding a part of Taka, even as he lets him go.

Mondo doesn’t know what will happen in the trial, but as he holds onto Taka so desperately, he knows he will not be winning. He still is so afraid, doesn’t know if he will be brave enough to do what he knows he must, but... but he also knows he can’t be the reason Taka dies. He honestly would rather die than do that. It’s comforting to realize, in the oddest, strangest of ways. Death is so much easier to digest when he places it in the context of saving the man that he loves. And he does. Love him. So, so much...

Eventually Mondo feels himself getting close, and feels that Taka is getting close too, so he allows himself to whisper into Taka’s ear. Whisper all the soft and gentle words he has kept hidden inside his heart his entire life, the words he’s always had to hide in order to survive the rough and dangerous lifestyle he was always forced to lead. He whispers how amazing Taka is, how Mondo is constantly astonished by how good and kind Taka is, how Taka is prolly the best person he has ever met. He whispers that he knows Taka will change the world, that he will be the best of all of them. That he already is.

And he... he whispers how much he loves him. How he knows it’s too soon to say shit like that, but that he- he means it. He also whispers his sneaking suspicion that this was not the first time they met, that he’s loved Taka far longer than just a handful of stressful, terrifying weeks, that they... that they belong together in a way that is intrinsic inside them both.

And while part of him is embarrassed by the words, thinking himself a weak and pathetic sap, the majority of him can’t find it in him to care. Not when Taka is letting out a shout, cumming against him while a few tears leak out of the corner of his eyes. And Mondo... Mondo is cumming not long after, collapsing on top of Taka, breath heaving as he rests, doing his best to not crush the love of his fucking life.

But Taka doesn’t seem to care. He doesn’t seem to care at all, not when he leans up and whispers in Mondo’s ear. Voice shaking and trembling but still, always, endlessly determined. He whispers how he feels the same, that Mondo is the best person he has ever met. How, despite his gruff and harsh exterior, Taka has never met someone so kind and caring before. How he loves Mondo, too, more than he would ever think possible, certainly not after such a short amount of time. And how he, too, has the weird feeling that this was not the first time they’ve met, the first time they’ve fallen in love.

Taka asks him, then— voice small and trembling— if Mondo believes in reincarnation. If he thinks that... that they’ve lived a life together before, and that this is just them meeting up again. And that... that they will meet up again one day, in another life, far from Hope’s Peak and killing games and death that is both senseless and cruel. And Mondo doesn’t know, has never believed in an afterlife at all, but as he pulls back and looks down at Taka’s face, the boy looking so desperate and terrified, he... he can’t help how he smiles. And laughs. And leans down, kissing Taka again, the millionth time even if it really shouldn’t be. And he...

He nods. He agrees. He says that yes, he does. He does believe in reincarnation and that they- they will find each other one day. Should they... well. Well. That one way or another, they will have their happy ending. He promises. He... he promises...

He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed by the sappy words, the desperation he knows is plain in his words and eyes. He knows it’s getting so fucking late, knows that the fucking announcement will come soon and that the body will be discovered soon after, but... but he doesn’t want to leave. Never. Never. Never. He doesn’t want to think too much, doesn’t want to think about what will happen in a few short hours. Doesn’t want to let this one small piece of happiness he’s found get ruined because he couldn’t handle being fucking soft.

And so, he doesn’t. Doesn’t ruin it. He just lays down on his side, next to Taka, and pulls him close. They are naked, bodily fluids drying unpleasantly on their skin, but Mondo doesn’t care. He just pulls Taka close and holds him, Taka resting his head against Mondo’s chest again, like earlier, fingers tracing patterns on Mondo’s skin again and again and again. Mondo is exhausted, so tired, but he doesn’t close his eyes. Doesn’t let himself sleep, knowing that this is the first and last time he will ever get to hold Taka like this and wanting so badly to savor it. And- and he knows Taka feels the same. Knows that Taka doesn’t sleep either. And Mondo... Mondo wonders if he suspects. What Mondo did. The reason why Mondo is so scared. He thinks the Ultimate Moral Compass can’t possibly suspect, thinks that Taka would never be willing to be so close to him if he- if he knew— but. But...

But... when the fucking announcement comes, seven coming way too fast for his own good... when he feels Taka stir sluggishly, the boy clearly not wanting to get up but his sense of duty likely making him...

Taka whispers to him. Soft. Gentle. As Mondo takes a washcloth and cleans them up, he hears Taka’s whispered words. And he... he...

“Please know, kyoudai, that I... I will always love you. No matter what happens. No matter... n-no matter what happens. Nothing will ever make me love you less. I swear, m-my... my love. I... I promise.”

Mondo stares at his kyoudai, heart beating both fast and slow, a contradiction that somehow makes perfect sense to him. He’s exhausted, hasn’t slept a wink all night, but for some reason, he’s not afraid. Oh, he knows he will be. Once the announcement is made that a body has been found. Once everyone is called to the girl’s locker room, once they see the dead body he left lying on the ground beside a splotch of bright pink blood. Then the fear will return. Bright and fierce and terrifying. He will mourn himself, mourn Chihiro, mourn everyone who is trapped in this sick and twisted death game.

(But not Taka. He- he can’t mourn Taka, can’t let himself believe that this beautiful and wondrous boy will ever, ever die. Even if it’s so fucking likely, since like hell would Taka ever kill anyone. Maybe- maybe he’ll find a way out. Or whoever is keeping them here will realize how twisted they are and let him out. Or- something. Something. Even if it’s too late for Mondo, it won’t be for Taka. He- he knows this. Has to know this.)

But for now... for now, he doesn’t worry about it. He just... lets himself exist, his heart beating for Taka and Taka alone. He doesn’t let himself think about what will come or what will happen. He just... loves Taka. Plain and simple.

So, he smiles. And he nods. And he whispers the same words back, even though it’s not the same, not the same at all.

He watches with all the fondness and love in his heart as Taka gets dressed in his ridiculously complicated uniform, aching for what he will never have, and yet yearns for dearly. He’s fighting the fear inside him as hard as he can, but once he is dressed in his clothes from the day before (he doesn’t care, fuck he doesn’t care) and Taka is in his uniform, it’s not like he can help it. The fear. The dread.

It only gets worse when, right before they are able to leave the room together, they get accosted by Monokuma, who is being all vague and unhelpful, even going so far as to make insinuations about them, but one thing is clear. Something happened. Not that it’s a surprise to Mondo. He... he already knew that.

And... it seems Taka did, too. Mondo looks at him, the fear kicked up a hundred-fold, and sees that the kid’s face is a blank mask. Mondo has never seen Taka look so... emotionless before. It makes him nervous, but before he can ask if he’s alright, or maybe try and beg for the forgiveness that he knows he doesn’t deserve, Taka smiles at him. Bright and guileless, with no hint of strain.

(Mondo wouldn’t have suspected that Taka could be such a good liar. Perhaps, when it’s important. When it matters. When... when.)

“I think we should head to the bath, kyoudai. Before breakfast. I remember you mentioning how much you like morning baths!”

Mondo stares at Taka for a full minute, heart aching, but Taka doesn’t seem to show he knows anything at all. And yet... Mondo knows he must know something. Taka is so big on rules and order. He is the one who insisted they all meet for breakfast every day. He wouldn’t miss that. Especially not when something clearly has happened. Not when... shit.

But Mondo doesn’t deny it. He just nods stiffly, his smile shaky on his lips. Taka smiles brightly back, before marching over to the door, opening it, and exiting quickly. Mondo stares after him for a moment before following, not wanting to waste a single second more.

The walk to the bath doesn’t take long and, thankfully, they don’t run into anyone as they make their way over. Once inside, Taka immediately goes to the men’s section of the bathhouse, not saying a word, but his back is loose, not tense. Not like Mondo’s is.

Mondo watches as Taka strips, his breath getting taken away as he sees the beautiful boy before him. He only is spurned into motion when Taka looks at him over his shoulder, head tilted curiously. Mondo strips quickly after that, very relieved that there are no security cameras around. He can feel Taka’s bright red eyes watching him as he removes his clothes, heart racing, doing all he can to pretend that this is okay. That this is normal.

It isn’t. It can’t be, he knows it can’t, but if Taka is doing all he can to pretend, then... then so will he.

Taka insists that they quickly rinse off before entering the bath itself, as is polite, and once that is done, they enter the bath together, talking softly about random bullshit, light and easy. They don’t mention what Monokuma insinuated. They don’t mention anything like that at all. They stay close, practically touching, but they don’t do much more than that. Mondo knows that Taka wouldn’t approve, and he doesn’t want to pressure Taka into anything. Not ever. Especially not now.

After a little while, they exit the bath, dressing in their uniforms again as soon as they are able. They then leave the bathhouse and head to Mondo’s room, since Mondo still has to make himself up. Part of him doesn’t really want to, as tired as he is, but he knows it would be suspicious if he didn’t. Plus... if this is going to be his last day alive (and it will, oh god, it will), then he might as well look presentable. Right?

It takes him the usual twenty minutes, during which Taka watches him, his body loose and his eyes soft. They talk again about everything and nothing, and for a moment, Mondo can pretend. Pretend that this is fine. Pretend that he’s okay. Pretend that he hadn’t... h-hadn’t...

But then the announcement comes. And his heart sinks.

They found the body. God fucking dammit, they found the body.

The next hour is a blur to him, Mondo following after an unusually quiet Taka in a daze. Mondo does his best to not show how terrified he is, but he thinks he fails. With Taka, at least. And Taka... Taka doesn’t do anything to show that he’s suspicious. He doesn’t give Mondo any looks, doesn’t frown... doesn’t really do much of anything, really. It makes Mondo feel disgusting inside, but... but he doesn’t know what to do. Goddammit, but he’s only sixteen! He... he didn’t fucking ask for this! Any of this! G-god... f-fuck...

When he and Taka enter the girl’s locker room, Mondo wonders how he will be able to fake his shock when he feels so dead inside, but the minute he enters... he realizes he won’t have to fake shock. He won’t have to fake anything, really.

Because that... that is not how he left Chihiro’s body, holy fucking shit.

W-what... who... who the fuck did that, he wonders, trying to mask the shock a little, hoping it looks like someone who is appalled at the disgusting way Chihiro is being suspended and not... not. Mondo... Mondo may have killed the dude (oh god), but he sure as shit hadn’t done this disrespectful bullshit. But who... who did...?

For one split, heart stopping second, he wonders madly if Taka did it. If he... if he did it because he knew, he knew, he... he somehow knew and wanted to try and cover it up, or throw people off Mondo’s scent, or- or... something. Anything.

But he quickly dismisses that thought because a) it’s absurd, Taka is too fucking good and moral to do shit like that, b) Taka looks as shocked as all of them, and no matter how good he may be at acting, Mondo knows he’d fucking suck at covering up his own crime, and c) Mondo spent pretty much the entire night with Taka, going straight to his room after- fuck. After. So... definitely not Taka. But then... who...? He doesn’t know, fuck he doesn’t know. He can barely think, feeling so tired and scared and afraid.

(He had noticed Taka’s momentary look of relief, though. As soon as they entered. As soon as he saw the body. It had quickly morphed to sorrow and pain, but Mondo had seen the relief when Taka had glanced at him, and Mondo... Mondo thinks he knows why.)

(After all.)

(He sure as shit wouldn’t have done that monstrous bullshit to anyone. Least of all Chihiro. Anyone who knows him would know that. He may be a biker [and now a murderer], but he has more honor than that.)

(And maybe... maybe, with that in mind... he could actually get away with this shit. F-fuck...)

(Yeah, Taka would die, they’d all die, but... b-but...)

Mondo is volunteered to stand guard again with Ogami, the class assuming he’ll do it like he’d done last time, even though he really wants to be anywhere but here. Especially when Taka goes off, eyes determined, saying he’s going to find out who did this and see that they are brought to justice. Seems Taka has stopped suspecting him entirely, then. F-fuck... he can’t leave, though. It would be suspicious, especially since he was the one who volunteered last time. So, he... he doesn’t leave. He just... stays. Stomach sick, hating himself as much as ever, he… he stays.

The hour of the investigation is simultaneously the longest and shortest hour of his life. Shortest because he knows this will be the last hour of his life, his fear making time seem like it moves faster than it should. Longest since he’s trapped in the room with his fucking murder victim, forced to see the horrifying way some sick bastard had mangled the poor dude’s body, the worst disgrace in death. He wants to rip the poor dude off the bar, wants to show him the respect he fucking deserves, but he can’t. That detective chick is still observing the body, and if he does that, he will instantly be indicating himself. And- and while... while he knows he will be caught, should be caught, he...

He can’t help the goddamn fucking hope that is blooming inside him. The hope that he’ll be free. The hope that he might actually be able to escape this living nightmare. The hope that he... he could...

Eventually the hour ends, and the class is forced into the goddamn fucking courtroom, and Mondo is forced to listen to the farce of a trial. It gets discovered relatively early who disrespected Chihiro’s body (revealing that fucking Fukawa is Genocide Jack. Or Jill. Or... whatever), but then... then it turns out it was Togami who mangled the dude’s body, for... whatever fucking reason that sick fucker had. Which infuriates the shit out of him, hating Togami almost as much as he hates Monokuma and himself, hating him for being so uncaring about someone being fucking dead.

Everyone latches onto the idea that it was Togami, though, even Taka, which shouldn’t relieve Mondo as much as it does, goddamn him, but... but...

But of course. Fucking Naegi, that goddamn bastard... he has to be suspicious. And Mondo gets it, okay, he does. No one here actually wants to die. But... but he...

In the end, it was a slip of the tongue. One mistake that will end up costing him his fucking life. He’s never put much thought into the words he says, the strain too frustrating for him to bother with, and it’s fucking fitting that that specific personality flaw is what kills him, in the end.

Blue. Fucking... blue. Blue was once a favorite color of his, though red has quickly been replacing it lately. But just... fucking blue.

Taka tries to deny it. Mondo thinks that’s what kills him the most. How desperately Taka tries to defend him. Refuting everything Naegi says. Denying it all. But Mondo had seen it, too. The doubt. The way the kid’s eyes had widened when the class caught onto his trail, darting over to Mondo quickly once, then away. The... the fear. The... all of it. Just... all of it.

But... but Mondo is tired of lying. He honestly hates lying, it makes his head hurt trying to hold onto so many tangled webs. And he didn’t get any sleep the previous night, anyway, and hasn’t eaten at all. And he’s just... tired. So very, goddamn tired...

So... he gives up. He gives in. He confesses his truth, the deadly secret that he can’t ever undo, and it... it’s hard. Not even because he knows he’s signing his own death sentence, but because of Taka. Because of the anguish he sees on the kid’s face, tears and snot flowing freely down his beautiful face, not that Taka seems to care. The kid asks him why, and he... it’s the least he can do. To confess. To just... explain.

And that hurts, too. All of this just... it hurts. But it’s not a sharp and angry pain. It’s like... pressure. Inside him. He... he killed someone. Someone who had trusted him. Someone who had admired him. He... even if he had survived, he’d never have been able to live with himself. Not in the long run. Especially not if his cowardice led to the death of so many others. Of Taka. He may be a monster, but he... he’s not that much of a monster.

So... this was for the better, he thinks, heart aching as that fucking bear reveals his secret anyway, the one he’d been willing to murder to keep safe. He finishes his confession, tells everyone what he did and why, and it… fuck, it’s hard, but it’s the absolute least he can do. He keeps looking at Taka even through the pain, through his final confession, even though Taka cannot look at him. Taka hadn’t voted for Mondo, hadn’t been able to do it, the bear had said. That breaks him even more, honestly. F-fuck...

And then... before he knows it, it... it’s time. Punishment time. And Mondo... Mondo finds that he’s not as scared as he thought he would be. He apologizes to Taka, the kid looking absolutely destroyed, and it’s not enough. It’s never enough; can’t ever be enough. He has so many words to say, declarations and apologies and promises. In the end, he has time for none of it. But he... he does get one thing in. Other than his apology. Other than... than...

“See you in the next life, Taka. Hope it ain’t anytime soon.”

Mondo isn’t able to hear Taka’s response to that, as he’s too busy getting dragged off by that goddamn fucking bear. He does his best to appear calm as he is chained to the back of a motorcycle, as that goddamn bear sits in the driver’s seat, wearing a mockery of his uniform. His heart is pounding, and he knows this is it. It’s like the moment before his brother pushed him out of the way all over again, but this time... this time there is no last-minute rescue. This time there is no freedom, no release. This time...

This time he... he dies.

But... well.

At least he dies on a fucking hog, like he always imagined he would.

There’s some measure of comfort in that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: So, that’s the story! I think y’all can kind of see why I didn’t want to write this how I normally write. And I’m sure y’all picked up on this, but yes, them feeling like they knew each other was definitely because of the memory loss. I have a degree in psychology. I learned a ton about memory during school, and one thing is that memory is located in so many places it’s almost impossible to completely lose all of your memory. Even if you lose your episodic memory (your memory of personal events, like birthday parties or what you did last month), you tend to keep your semantic memory (your memory of facts and things, like what the Pythagorean theorem is, or who Napoleon is) as well as some sense memory. Mondo and Taka were totally a Thing before the killing game. I honestly don’t believe in reincarnation, but I think it was comforting to Taka and Mondo to think about.

(It also would make seeing Alter Ego Mondo so much worse, oof.)

This story, technically, could fit into canon, I think. I even rewatched Mondo’s death to make sure, and while some things were a bit off, I tried to keep things mostly like in canon. The only real difference was Mondo’s last words to Taka, I think.

Anyway, I hope y’all liked it! Let me know if you liked the format and maybe I’ll do more things like this to get more ideas out. I have one in the works, tentatively, so we’ll see. Bye! :-D

#Danganronpa #Kiyotaka Ishimaru #Mondo Owada #Mondo Owada POV #Danganronpa fanfiction #Character death #Another Life #One Shot #My fanfic

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fencesandfrogs · 4 years ago

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an abridged history/explanation of warrior cats if you didn’t read them as a kid and have questions (a primer)

welcome. i’m going to keep things to the point, this is not a plot summary, just, well, its a pandemic and people are seeking items of childhood comfort and its come to my attention that a lot of people didn’t read these books as kids and then they come up in conversation and they act shocked so! i felt compelled to write this.

[2.5k words, 10min read. section headers, no pictures. not a ton of helpful formatting. i don’t want to say don’t read this because obviously i wrote it and think it’s worth reading, but i’ll be honest, this is a lot.]

section one: about me

i was an avid reader as a child, most of which fits solidly into “stories for another time,” and some of which would necessitate me adding tags onto this post that are, well, not necessary. so i will skip over that backstory but for those aware of lexile scores, i had one that was too high for literally any book that was appropriate to give me. so reading in school was torture and reading for fun was excellent.

now because i was a first-ish grader and my mom was trying to keep the fifth harry potter out of my hands, she looked desperately for something else to pass to me. her friend, who had a daughter a year or two older than me, was into these cat books, and my mom was like “here honey you like cats” without thinking too much about it.

which is good, because as i’ll get into, it was a really good fit for me. but like a dozen books later she asked me about the plot and well. i think at that moment she realized that it might have been better to just let me read harry potter.

but yeah i continued to read them long past the recommended reading ages and still as a Young Adult will return to them for nostalgia, and also as i will get into, some really good books. (see a list of books for “morbidly curious but i don’t want to spend 56 to 168 hours reading this”)

i’m not fully caught up on the series but this is not a plot summary so that should not impact my ability to discuss this

section two: content warnings

these books (not this post) includes the following:

discussion of castration (1.1 series 1, book 1, i’m not including this on every item/discussion because this is a complicated series but i want to demo how up front some of this is)

teenage romance/sex/pregnancy (1.1ish-1.3 or 4, continues throughout the series quite a lot, comes up again in 3.4/5, 4.4-5, and a bit in 5)

death from childbirth (1.can’t remember which book, many others)

unwanted pregnancy (se super edition, or a longer one off novel, discussed in 4&5)

sex/implied, discussed, and very very very heavily hinted but never directly said/shown (1.1-3ish, se, other)

murder (constantly, 1.1, 1.4, literally every book, 3.5, i’m just listing the ones i remember off the top of my head that were particularly graphic)

disability/illness, esp. the debilitating and/or deadly nature of it (1.3-5ish, 3.1, but all of 3, 3.4ish)

dementia (1.3-5, i’ve heard in some of the later series?)

abuse (7/8 this is reported i haven’t read these books but based on what i know it’s def there)

child abandonment (1.4-5, 3.4/5, it’s also all over the place but i think those are the only major character incidents of it)

treason (1.3-5, all over the place)

the horror/tragedy of war (background, but pretty constant)

disagreeing with an integral religion/tradition (3, based on the series title, 8, and generally scattered)

the corrupting influence of power (1.4/5, possibly 7/8, others)

racism (1, 3-5, possibly others)

sexism (se, background)

patriarchal societies (se, seems to be somewhat softened based on what i’ve heard but i’m not entirely sure about this)

and more! but it starts to get stranger and this is enough to prove my point

basically everything that could go wrong does

oh yeah! child abuse also child abuse that’s a very major theme in the first series as well as during other points. and elder abuse in the first series.

okay i’ve made my point.

section three: the appeal

look. so. i think we’re kind of pastel-ify children’s literature based on movies. see, parents have to watch children’s movies with their kids, so they can’t be gritty and intense because a lot of parents will say “not for my nine year old! they can’t deal with treason!” and that seems to be bleeding into children’s literature.

but warriors is not that. it’s intense, it borders on “too gruesome for children,” and it’s from a time where kids books got to be serious and heavy and dark because they were about animals. which was great because i couldn’t find books at my reading level that weren’t too thematically difficult, so i got to read something below my reading level, but thematically too hard, so it kind of balanced out.

and then well. so. the series grows with the audience, but the books don’t grow in terms of like difficulty so new readers start deep into it and it’s a complicated thing, the fandom history is complex, but.

the appeal is that parents don’t usually read the books their kids read and so they see a book about cats and assume it’s fluff, and kids who are starved of complex content get to read hamlet-for-kids.

section four: worldbuilding/lore

oh yeah also there’s some really deep lore to explore. so there’s two bits of appeal.

i’m not doing a full world/plot summary, but i’ll explain some common elements here.

thunder/shadow/wind/riverclan: harry potter houses for cats (gryffindor, slytherin, hufflepuff, ravenclaw, except this doesn’t work for the last two but that’s fine because no one cares about them despite riverclan being pretty important in most of the books)

-kit/-paw/-star: naming conventions. everyone has a two part name. (we’ll use cinder as an example because i like the two cinders we know, even tho neither of them get to be cinderstar.) babies are -kit (cinderkit), then when they’re apprentices, which is like being a student, you know, elementary through high school, you’re paw, so cinderpaw. then you get an Official Name from ur clan leader (cinderheart). if you become clan leader, you get to be -star (cinderstar). i know i haven’t explained clan leaders bear with me. this is kind of important because i have the names burned into my memory so i cannot simply always call firestar firestar if he was firepaw at the time of the events i’m describing. it won’t be ambiguous, cinderheart/cinderpelt are a special case. if this is tricky for you it’s fine just only read the first part of the name.

clan (leader, deputy, medicine cat, elder): roles with in the clan. leaders literally have nine lives. deputies are next in line and chosen by the leader. leaders usually go through several deputies, because deputies don’t have nine lives. medicine cats are doctors. they also have an apprentice. those are all one per clan. elders are just retired cats. they’re not a special category per say, but i wanted to mention them.

warrior:��adult.

warrior code: laws.

star clan: dead cats. this ties into the religion which is pretty important to the books but for the most part if you understand that dead cats get to give guidance and send their approval, you have the gist of it.

section five: so um, what the fuck

so we start with a cat named rusty who runs into the woods to join thunderclan and then his name is firepaw and we all forget that he’s named rusty except for like that one time it comes up again. bluestar is a great leader with some corrupt deputies but fireheart eventually takes care of it and becomes clan leader which is a big deal.

then a bunch of other shit happens and suddenly ashfur is possessing brackenstar and being (more) abusive to squirrelflight (who is on the outs with brackenstar anyway for lying about their kits jayfeather, hollyleaf, and lionheart because they’re actually the children of firestar’s other daughter leafpool who had them with crowfeather after she fell in love with him but he’s from windclan and she’s a medicine cat so that’s double illegal and apparently hollyleaf is alive even though she yeeted herself into a pit and died because she killed ashfur when he threatened to reveal this but couldn’t live with being the product of an illegal meeting and then it was all pointless because leafpool stopped being a medicine cat out of guilt anyway and jayfeather is just an ornery bitch about everything but especially all of this)

i’m not explaining any of that.

section six: i repeat: so um, what the fuck

so the thing about these books is they’re soap operas and dramas about cats and that means they get just as strange and chaotic as anything else in the genre. i think a lot of people like me, who read them as children, regard the series we knew as a child (usually either the first three or the first five, plus super editions) as something good and warm and comforting (despite being dark and gruesome) because they made us feel good.

they were also a breeding ground for young fandom because of all the the drama that exists and the nature of the books providing that.

section seven: super editions

the simple answer to what a super edition is has already been given (it’s a novel length one-off about a single character, and its usually either a side character - bluestar, crowfeather - or a event/perspective we don’t get to see - firestar, skyclan, greystripe - and they’re generally more mature)

my favorite super edition is bluestar’s prophecy. i read it at like 16, slinking into the children’s library with a stack of other ya fiction and a “children’s book” which dealt with unwanted pregnancy, grief, forbidden love, and more. still not sure why that’s in the children’s section.

section eight: about the drama

so there’s been a lot of fandom drama about these books. i can’t tell you about the nuances, because i am an old fan, so i watched but didn’t partake. the highlights reel that i can recall goes as follows (please note i will refer to characters by name without explanation. it’s fine. the point of this section is to convey the pettiness of this drama):

tigerstar: did he do anything wrong? (the answer is holy shit yes, this isn’t discourse, it’s okay to like a villain)

scourge: did he��do anything wrong, also what color is his collar? (also yes, doesn’t matter)

was the new prophecy (2)/omen of the stars (3)/etc good? (yes, eh, no, yes, no comment, no comment)

should jaypaw or hollypaw be medicine cat apprentice (neither of them, but jaypaw’s employment opportunities are limited because he’s blind, so its gotta b him)

uhh a massive tangle around this parentage drama between squirrelflight, leafpool, brackenfur, and crowfeather, which i used as the crux of humor for how batshit the plots can get, so i’m not even going to pretend i can make it funny, but just know that it’s batshit and the correct opinion is as follows: no one is right, but squirrelflight has done the least wrong, brackenfur is an asshole to her where it’s unwarrented, and hollyleaf is an idiot

and the current drama centers around brackenstar and ashfur and is tied directly to the point above, which is why i’ve kind of given up trying to make jokes about this because this is the culmination of like 35 novels.

section nine: i feel like i need to have some conclusive point to justify writing all of this

but i don’t have one, because this was really an excuse to ramble about an old passion for like half an hour. i mean i guess i can say, like, i think younger fans are sort of embroiled in this drama they don’t really have context for, because i’m not kidding, the current drama centers around the grandchildren of our original cast.

it’s kind of hard to know why, say, mistystar matters if you don’t know that she’s the child of bluefur and oakheart and if you don’t remember the drama that surrounded that when bluestar was dying and tigerstar and leopardstar were ruling a combined shadow/riverclan.

(i really hope that’s intelligible i tried to lay the groundwork for it. basically, there’s a biracial kid in a very segregated society who becomes the leader of one of the clans. which is obviously drama, especially considering that that clan was part of a weird supremacy movement a while back.)

& you know? i really hope one of the new series gets to be like, a soft reboot. just. end the current drama and pick up again with the latest generation. a) we’re starting to run out of names, and b) i think that it’s kind of tipped over the edge of sane.

the series also used to be very low fantasy. the cat societies are reasonably close to feral cat colonies (the biggest detail is that toms don’t all have their own territory, but there’s honestly in-universe discussion of this and it’s basically a culture thing), and while star clan/religion is a real and legitimate thing, there’s also a discussion of its abuse and most of the early books don’t really use star clan/related ideas as a physical force so much as a plot device, barring, like, when a new leader gets their nine lives.

honestly, i’ll always adore these books for serving the role they did, and a lot of the series is fantastically well written. but the fandom surrounding it can be, uh, not great because 9-14 year olds don’t really have good brains to understand this.

also, i’m very sad that i can’t find the flash game that was for the great prophecy. it was not very fun, but i enjoyed playing it, so if anyone knows the url so i can search the internet archive for it, please let me know.

section ten: i’m morbidly curious but there are 56 hours of books to read, assuming a very fast reading pace, so is there something i can start with to experience this without dedicating 4 days to it?

yes, there is.

it’s called bluestar’s prophecy. it’s standalone, and i should have given you enough of a background on the lore that you don’t need to know anything else. i’ve already given away the twist in series 1 that it would spoil, so you’re all good on that front.

if you want more, or want the original experience, the first series is self contained and quite good. i’ve given the broad outlines of the plot, but trust me, there’s a lot of surprises and all sorts of things i skipped over because while i like it, it’s not exactly fandom primer material

i also enjoy firestar’s quest and skyclan’s destiny for super editions, but you’ll need to read the first series to understand FQ and FQ to understand SD, so it’s not exactly a starting point. also, SD especially deals with a very different set of themes as the other books.

also, if you were to, say, search “readwarriorcats” (no spaces) on duckduckgo, and then click on one of the first links, you know, not the official site, the one hosted on one of those free website things, you know, not wix, not wordpress, the other one, you would only find lists of the books with hyperlinks.

#warrior cats #fandom #txt #mine #1st #February #2021 #February 1st 2021 #essay #personal #long #q

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beccaland · 7 years ago

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Fandom Story Time!

OK Whovians, brief-ish story time, because I'm feeling weirdly nostalgic lately. Recently I keep getting reminded of "the good old days" when I discovered fandom on rec.arts.drwho and alt.drwho.creative, back in the early days of the internets. In particular, I remembered a beloved fanfic series by one RJ Anderson (now an actual published YA author) back in 1996, and knowing that "the internet is forever," I decided to see if I could find it again, though I haven't been on Usenet since sometime around the turn of the millennium (wow that sounds weird to write). Long story short: I did find the fic series. I still love it. Even though it's a bit dated in some ways (seeing as it features an 11th Doctor substantially different than Matt Smith's), I wish she'd add it to AO3, so it would be more accessible (Google's way of displaying Usenet stuff is... difficult to navigate, to say the least). I did not, however, find the one bit of fanfic I ever wrote: a very short piece about the death of the Doctor. Ah well. It was probably overly melodramatic anyway. Maybe it's better not to embarrass myself by finding and re-reading it. In the process of my searching, I was reminded of conversations I hadn't thought of in years, and I saw names of people I regarded as friends, though my post-volume was low enough that I doubt more than one or two of them would remember me at all. Perhaps not all of them would remember me too fondly anyway; I was a teenager, and like most teens I thought I knew a great deal more than I actually did. I was reminded of little kindnesses, dumb jokes and silly banter, deep dives into the depths of DW lore, and flights of speculative fancy. You know--the kinds of things that make participating in fandom worthwhile. I was also reminded why I left fandom for so long. It wasn't just that work and school took up more and more of my time, or that my improving health meant I could socialize offline more, after years of having most of my friendships online (at last, I could spend more time actually dating than talking about UNIT dating). No, my departure was mostly because of all the racism, bigotry, and pointless political flamewars, as well as the nominally on-topic but actually deeply personal flamewars, all of which increasingly drowned out the fandom content I wanted to see. And all of that drove away a not-insignificant number of the people whose posts I liked to read, too--including some of the authors of Virgin and BBC books. Eventually there just wasn't enough positive DW content to keep me coming back. Sounds familiar, right? That crap is everywhere, and always has been. But I hope it won't always be. In the days of Usenet, it was much more difficult to curate your news feeds. You could create "kill files" that would automatically delete content from certain bloggers from your own news feed, but it took a little extra computer savvy; it wasn't just a matter of clicking a button. Despite the limitations of Tumblr, I like that I can follow both tags and specific blogs, and that it's relatively easy to block blogs that consistently post bothersome content. I like that its algorithms learn (not always successfully) to show me the kinds of content that I'm more likely to enjoy, and less of the stuff that tends to wind me up. Plus, massive bandwidth increases and other technological developments have made it possible to share so many more kinds of fan content. I miss the low-tech brilliance of ASCII-based fan art sometimes, but I wouldn't trade the huge variety of beautiful art, fic, and video that I see every day now for anything. By the time the new series debuted, I had no desire to plug back into fandom as a whole, though I was still in contact with a couple of good overseas friends from the drwho IRC channel, through whom my family and I were able to access the new series until I moved to an apartment where I could watch it on the SciFi channel. But gradually, I felt the pull of fandom again. My friends kept acting surprised that I wasn't on Tumblr. Finally, I came back to fandom. I guess the moral of this story is threefold: First, 20+ years from now I'm totally going to remember you, my Tumblr mutuals, even if we haven't interacted in decades. I'll miss you and wonder what you're up to now, and whether you're still into fandom. I'll wonder if you remember me at all. Fandom friends are real friends, even if we only ever interact online. Second, all the people who complain that Tumblr has made fandom worse are wrong. This is kind of a Golden Age for fandom, but it's not evenly distributed. Use the available tools to curate your fandom experience. Don't think twice about unfollowing or even blocking blogs that just wind you up; they are not worth your time and energy. Actively seek out, follow, and share content from blogs that practice the kind of fandom that enhances your life. Be that kind of blogger yourself. Third, the internet is forever. Do your best to cultivate your corner of it so that decades from now, it will still be beautiful. Even if someday you look back and discover that some of the flowers you planted were actually dandelions, I hope it'll make you smile rather than cringe.

#dw fandom #personal

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scottstiles · 7 years ago

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clarz

replied to your post

“hi divvy! i know you are MAD right now, so don't answer this until you...”

thanks so much for answering this! tbh i love the fact that you're religious and that you clearly love it so much. i went to a very catholic college, so that kind of thoughtful and deep connection with religion and tradition is important to me, and i love seeing it in other people. it's an important part of who you are! and part of the reason i asked is because you mentioned disliking the performance thing in your initial post, and i really connect with that. when i was growing up, the church i went to was pretty plain and traditional (despite very liberal politics and interpretations of scripture.) most of the other people i knew who went to church were evangelical and/or southern baptist, and i always disliked that their churches had like, full rock bands at services, and poppy contemporary melodies to "hymns." i understand that they're trying to make church fun, but it always made me suspicious and felt disingenuous. i don't think religious services should be a chore, certainly, but i also don't think that they should be "fun" in that way. that's not the purpose of religion. i don't think religion should become more like entertainment or performance, because it's supposed to be a space that's completely different from the rest of the world. it makes it feel less holy to me. so i definitely relate to how you feel there. also, how did you end up feeling about the service in the moment? (and i'd love to hear about the ma'apilim sometime)

SORRY I DIDN’T ANSWER THESE BEFORE CUZ I REALLY WANTED TO BUT PROCRASTINATION IS MY MIDDLE NAME (jk it’s tzviya but try saying that ten times fast. or just one time. slow.)

HERE WE GO:

1- i love finding other people who feel close to their religion, no matter what it is. i remember in teacher’s college i just naturally gravitated to the only catholic girls in my classes i guess simply because i enjoyed talking to them? we weren’t there learning to teach religion, but i’m always fascinated by what other people feel about it. i’ve found myself thinking on more than one occasion that i feel more comfortable with people who have that side to themselves, like me, rather than people who don’t interact/think about/believe in any of that kinda stuff. (im being purposefully vague because it’s a huge generalization, but nonetheless true-ish for me, i often find myself sharing much more common ground with palestinian muslims, for example, than a french canadian montrealer). i guess especially because religion is not something i consider a defining trait of mine, and im just in constant evolution with respect to that. judaism is so much more than just a belief in god or a practice of the rituals and commandments.

2- how fascinating to find someone in my age bracket who feels the same way about music in prayer. my problem has always been that i LOVE music, and its so personal and emotional that i DO see it fitting seamlessly with prayer but... it’s the setting that has always bothered me. it just never felt right for me in a synagogue. like you said, it’s just a different space. i don’t know about church and ‘making it fun’ but i definitely can imagine plenty of religions use music to draw in otherwise disinterested people who find prayer “boring” or pointless. music is awesome! i just wish people could feel the music in their soul as a separate entity from external music, like from an instrument. idk i guess i just really love singing XD and i wish it wasn’t always a performance or a competition of voices, because i think prayer should be personal. even if it’s between a community, its still voices connecting to each other. i’m reminded of Hannah’s prayer, in the book of Samuel (the prophet- his mother), she’s at the temple on one of the annual pilgrimages with her family and she’s depressed because she doesn’t have any children and her husband’s other wife just keeps popping out babies left and right. so she goes to be alone somewhere in the temple, and she’s weeping and praying to god for a child. Eli, the high priest, comes in and sees her shaking and moving her lips real fast so he goes, “hey, you shouldn’t be drinking in here” and she’s like “im not drunk, i’m praying”. so that’s the first place we read about a person actually praying, and not out loud. this was like a huge revelation to the priest cuz clearly he’d never seen that before, and now the tradition has become to pray like hannah. (as an aside, if u ever see the propaganda videos made by the nazis, they use footage of synagogues to show how loony tunes those jews are with their muttering and their rocking back and forth). cuz like, prayer is supposed to be out loud? ahaha anyway i forgot where i was going with this but... oh ya, okay, so prayer didn’t really exist (as we know it, in judaism- and therefore christianity/islam/western monotheism) until that point- it was all about the sacrifices. and the temple ritual was replete with music and instruments like the shofar, timbrels, lutes, blabla other ancient instruments. but since then, we’ve been meant to use our voices alone. so says tradition, i guess.

3- so i did go to services on yom kippur (kol nidre) but not at my shul. i went with my sister to the chabad house near my parents, and it was....not great. but it was compounded by a lot of factors- i got a wicked cold the day or two before, so my nose was running a marathon and i was coughing like a 90yr old with emphysema. i got my period that morning so i was on an extra steep emotional rollercoaster that i just somehow could barely control. so we sat on the other side of the mechitzah (the separation barrier between men and women), the rabbi/cantor stood at the head in the middle so we could all see, and we all prayed out loud, no hush on the women’s side or anything (pretty typical from what i remember of camp/school prayer services). but of course the tunes were not quite what i’m used to, and there was a bit of annoying stuff that just irks me as a perfectionist (like they use a lot of yiddish pronunciation of the hebrew words, injecting a bunch of oy oy oys and ahoyhoyhoys in random places, in fact i leaned over to my sister at one point and was like ‘did ned flanders write this nigun (tune)?’), but altogether i guess it was better than watching an orchestra perform the prayer? idk it was pretty bad, on an emotional level, but not in hindsight. im very good at ruining things for myself through sheer stubbornness. i must have embarrassed my sister just by existing next to her, poor girl, she really wanted me to like it. i’m glad it’s over, and hopefully by next year ill be back in nyc or some other city so i wont have to worry about it.

4- MA’APILIM!!!!! okay so this was my absolute favoritest thing as a kid and i can’t wait to describe it to you. one night in camp, every summer, the counselors and cits would wake us up at like 3am by barging into our cabins chanting (screaming, really) “MA’APILIM, MA’APILIM BEH-MASSAD, BEH-MASSAD. MATCHIL HALAYLA MATCHIL HALAYLA BEH-MASSAD, BEH-MASSAD.” which translates to : “ma’apilim at massad (the name of my camp) starts tonight.” i’m singing it in my head as i type XD. so they’d be screaming and we’d be tumbling bleary eyed out of bed to grab our socks and sweatshirts and run over to the flagpole (keep in mind i was 8 when i first experienced this, and we’ve had kids as young as 6 at camp). once we had all gathered in line with our bunkmates, the counselors and cits put on a little “skit”.

basically they acted like they were nazis and jews, and did a little skit of some basic bad holocaust stuff (don’t ask me to remember the exact details we’re talkin at least 20 years since i last did this) to scare the pants off of us. kids would always cry already at this point from the shouting. we’d all kinda follow into this “play” (sorry idk what else to call it), and marched over to the gym where we watched a fake hanging on the stage. they literally. hanged someone. in front of us. a fake noose, of course, duh, i remember my counselor showing it to me, but traumatizing to say the least (i still remember the name of the counselor they “hanged”- not sure this ever happened more than once but ill never forget it).

then we’d all hustle down to the waterfront, again “playing” the role of holocaust victims/survivors after these little “skits” had sort of put us in the headspace, and we play along, imagining we’d just experienced these things and were now running from it. it was terrifying and exhilarating as a small child, and an even more unbelievably emotional thrill ride as i got older and became pseudo-obsessed with holocaust lit and facts in general in my life (it never did go away but everything changes with age). ANYWAYS so down at the waterfront we got a speech from another counselor playing a member of the haganah (the main jewish defense force in palestine leading up to independence, which ben gurion later turned into the IDF). sidebar for a little history: in the 40s the yishuv (jewish agency) and the haganah began a mission called aliyah bet, “the second immigration,” an illegal smuggling operation to bring refugees from the holocaust into palestine under the noses of the british, since almost all countries in the world had barred their doors to jewish immigration from europe (a high level member of the canadian government is famously recorded as having answered, when asked how many jews they should let in, that “none is too many”). volunteer seamen from the US and canada and other countries crossed the ocean on cargo ships hastily refurbished to fit hundreds of people, picking up thousands of refugees in europe to smuggle them onto the beaches of haifa and tel aviv. paul newman has a lovely half nekid scene of this in the movie Exodus when he jumps off the ship in the middle of the night and swims up onto the beach- one of my fave movies ever and pretty much the story of aliyah bet (albeit with tremendous hollywood embellishment and only mild accuracy). these refugees who became illegal immigrants (caught or not) were known as “ma’apilim”- the root of the word is to “climb” or to “rise up”, and is found in the bible referring to the israelites who were still eager to enter the land even after the negative report of the spies.

okay so basically this was the idea. we were “playing” these illegal immigrants who had just escaped the holocaust, and were now facing another threat in the form of the british who were doing their best to keep them out of palestine. k so we’re down at the waterfront. all the kids get divided into small groups of about 10 or so, with one or two counselors at the helm to be our “haganah operatives” and guides to the end. what end, you say? so the camp is spread out into 2 areas, the main camp where the younger kids cabins were, and the dining hall and the gym and the waterfront, etc. then there’s a road in the middle of the camp, and beyond it a hill leading up to the senior cabins and some sports fields at the top. the goal was for each group to make it through camp to the top of the hill without getting caught by the “british,” played by the cits who were roaming around camp.

idk if i have to describe camp further for people who don’t know the concept, but basically we’re all in the middle of the damn woods with nothing around us for miles except the lake and the camps on the other side of it or down the road. ill never forget my first ma’apilim (tbh most of my description is from then, which is why its so fuzzy cuz these memories are 20+ years old), i was so lucky to get the tripper as our group leader (the tripper is the “nature dude” in camp, the survivalist ;). he immediately led us underneath the gym (which of course was just insane to my small mind... UNDER the gym??) to plan our route and give us instructions. we organized a roll call and signals, we practiced walking in a single file line silently and dropping to the ground on his signal. we smeared dirt on our faces for camo in the woods. it was *mason voice* intense. k so then as you can guess, we snuck our way up the hill through the woods. sometimes we’d encounter other groups, once in awhile i remember getting caught by a cit, and they’d take all or some of us to the “jail” on the basketball court” where we’d have to wait for a jailbreak (idk how that worked but it did, i remember it happening but not in any detail). a famous prison break that DID happen was at acre prison in 1947 when the irgun (another paramilitary jewish group) blew up the prison and broke out 28 of their members and 214 arab prisoners. if im not mistaken they briefly refer to it in exodus by recreating a prison break. exciting times. ANYWAYS fuck im such a tangential bitch sorry XD, by the end of the night we’d all make it to the top- “jerusalem”- and we’d have hot chocolate and say morning prayers as the sun rose over the hill.

i feel like my description is a little lacking, but hopefully u get the basic picture. ma’apilim wasn;t even the heaviest part of camp- that was tisha b’av- the fast day when we commemorate the destruction of the temple and every other traumatic destructive event the jewish people have gone thru. that night they’d prepare the camp with candles in sand filled paper bags lining all the paths. after dinner we’d walk with our bunks on the path and watch little skits in different parts of camp- scenes from these moments in jewish history, like the holocaust, pogroms in europe, the spanish inquisition, terror attacks in israel, etc. after walking the path we’d all convene back at the waterfront, where they’d set out a small reconstructed “temple” on a makeshift raft in the lake, and a banner on the beach that said “yizkor”- remember. then they’d light both on fire and we’d sit and watch them burn while singing appropriately somber songs like eli eli, by hannah senesz. after that we’d go back to the gym and lie on the floor in small groups huddled around candles. we’d listen as some people chanted the book of eicha (lamentations), and would slowly fall asleep (depending on our age, of course). anyone that was still up after that was over got to stay in the gym if they wanted to watch exodus- a 4 hour movie. the next day we’d fast all day (only those who wanted- 13 y/o +) and treated it basically like shabbat- no regular activities.

MAN did i get some wild shit imprinted on me from camp!! but i don’t regret one second. i only wish other people could have the experience i did, but i dont even know if they still do that there. they probably do, but this old lady has no excuses to step foot in a summer camp anymore :(

as a completely coincidental aside and not at all as a self promo, idk if u knew this but i’ve been working on a documentary for over a year now and this whole thing is a major part of the plot. i interviewed a lady who was a passenger on the exodus, and about 4 or 5 people who were volunteers from montreal/new york/new jersey/toronto that picked up and smuggled the refugees. the stories are incredible. i just hope the rest of the world will get to hear it from their mouths one day. all we need is 100k to finish the film XD

#clarz #OMG I FORGOT TO POST THIS #i thought i would add to it but this is a fucking essay so ima leave it at that #PLEASE ASK ME MORE QUESTIONS IF U WANT #ANYBODY #i love talking about this shit and i have nobody to do it with :))))#personal #jewish stuff #judaism #holocaust mention #death mention cw #hanging mention cw #nazi mention cw

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dajoezenone · 7 years ago

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Remember when I did Reviews and posted them here?

DOCTOR WHO CHRISTMAS SPECIAL AIRED AND IM POSTING THOUGHTS HERE. LETS GOO

MAJOR SPOILER ALERT, YA HEAR? DONT READ THIS IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED TWICE UPON A TIME YET. DONT BE STUPID. Im serious.

I feel like Moffat wasted this idea. He had this great setup to do an episode about how the show has changed, and questioning if thats a good or a bad thing, but this was ultimately not that.

Sure, there are a few jokes about how the Doctor has changed, and in the end we see the seeds of the older Doctor in the younger one, but ultimately that isn’t the focus. Which is kind of weird because, again, I feel like using this idea on a story that ISNT about that is a waste.

But Im getting ahead of myself.

It starts out by showing us scenes from the episode where Bill Hartnell’s doctor regenerates, and then cuts off, leading into where the previous episode ended. There’s some text narration that I dont like because it is 1- unnecessary and B- weird? When has the show ever done this? Why was it so obviously something done in post? And if it was written in, why’d they make it look like a last minute decision done in post?

Anyways, the two Doctors themselves are both great. Or at least, the Actors are really great. They’re not written very impressively. This is not Moffat at his best. Which is a shame, because I loved the Moffat era and Im sad that it feels like the man himself was phoning it in at the end.

After the theme tune, we’re introduced to Mark Gatiss’s character, who is a WWI soldier, moments before his death. Time is frozen all around him, and then he’s transported to where the two Doctors are.

His character isn’t bad. I didn’t mind him while I was watching, but looking back on the episode he was mostly there to serve the plot, which was ultimately pointless. So he does kinda bug me. Anyways they all go into the TARDIS. Theres some jokes about the secret alchohol stache we saw a few Christmases ago which is fine. Some humor about the guitar, which I dont like. A Couple of the Doctors have played musical instruments. Having a personality trait thats consistent across Doctors be insulted by the original Doctor makes very little sense in my mind. And Capaldi is embarrassed of it? Capaldi’s Doctor is many things but embarrassed of one of the things that is legitimately cool? Weird conversation imo.

Oh and here we’re reintroduced to the fact that First Doctor was a bit sexist. Which, fine. He kinda was. Its an area where the Doctor has changed with the times. Except that its implied in other Capaldi episodes that Time Lord society just is actually more progressive bc they can change from male to female with a simple regeneration. This is why I feel like this was such a waste of potential. A trait that they implicitly retconned to not have changed over time is one of the main differences between the two that they focus on. Why? Nothing interesting is really learned there. It just lets Moffat virtue signal which is unnecessary.

Back to the plot, the TARDIS is captured by “The Dead” who dont explain whats going on, which is dumb of them, but offer to trade soldier Gatiss for Bill Potts, who is apparently among the dead. Nice. So glad they brought back a character whose arc ended with her getting a happy ending in order to show that it didn’t last long and that when they brought her back for an episode, it was for a plot related gimmick and she cant stay on the show still. I know they weren’t going to, but it still annoys me. I was ready for more Bill. I love Bill and this felt like a tease. Speaking of which, they let you think it really is Bill. Its not like in Day of the Doctor where you know that isn’t Rose the whole time. No, they let you think it maybe really is Bill. Why?

After some banter, the four of them escape the glass dead people. Or, person. Who looks very fake and not very intimidating. Which makes sense considering SPOILER ALERT the glass dead person isn’t evil. She’s not evil at all. She’s the main antagonist and in the end of the episode the Doctor’s basically just like “Wow OK well thats fine keep doing what you’re doing”. Nothing really even comes of it. Its all just padding and setup for the episode to end in the way that we all know it will.

Getting ahead of myself again. They spend some time on some Dalek controlled planet, where Rusty (The good Dalek that Doctor and Clara went inside back in season 8) sits in a tower and shoots at other Daleks all day. Rusty is old and cranky now. I guess. Actually he’s basically just a regular Dalek actually. But he will help the Doctor bc the Doctor convinces him it’ll hurt other Daleks. But actually all it does is reveal the twist I spoiled for you.

That said the main point was to give the characters a backdrop other than the old TARDIS set while they interact. We get some stuff with not-Bill and the Doctor which is pretty good. Some stuff with not-Bill and Gatiss which is actually really really good. And some stuff with the two Doctors which was... fine? Again, my main problem with the episode was that the two of them could have been used so much better but they simply aren’t. The two actors are phenominal, but I just dont buy Moffat’s writing in this episode. Give them intersting stuff to say, geez. Its all just kind of... what you’d expect.

Then we get the ending, which is again just nothing really unexpected. Doctor Capaldi changed stuff around so that when they unfroze time, it was right before the Christmas Armistice of 1914. Which is weird bc its like simultaneously showing that the world needs the Doctor to save people like Gatiss, but also showing that regular people, even soldiers in the midst of war, can be kind. Its a confusing message that tries to have its cake and eat it too. So see? This isn’t just me being upset that they didn’t focus on the stuff I would have. Its also me being upset with how they handled what they did choose to focus on.

Capaldi’s last scenes, saying goodbye to the Testimony versions of his companions, and his last monologue, are as great as I could have wanted them to be. Both drag on for a bit and had some stuff that could have been left on the cutting room floor and we never would have missed it. Its very obvious that Jenna Coleman wasn’t able to be there on set with the other companions Capaldi says goodbye to. And the Doctor rambles a bit in his monologue about children being allowed to know his name, which isn’t very coherent. I guess that was the point. We’re not supposed to understand. But still. Cut that then.

Then finally, Jodie Whitaker's first scene. Which is fine. Way too similar to Matt Smith’s first scene but with so much less dialogue. All she says is something like “Aw Brilliant!” which is instantly Doctor-ish. She’s great I love her. And then she stumbles around the exploding TARDIS set a bit before falling out of the ship entirely. Which again just makes me think of End of Time / Eleventh Hour. Like, I’ve seen this before but the character was given so much more room to breathe. As I’ve said before, its not the female Doctor Im worried about, its Chris Chibnall not giving her anything interesting to do. This doesn’t change that at all.

Small notes I didn’t know where else to put:

-I swear Capaldi gets emotional for a brief instant when First Doctor mentions Polly. Could be my imagination though since its not indicated at all by the dialogue he says. -Gatiss getting sad when he’s told he’s from “World War I” is a nice touch. They really believed that their’s was the war to end all wars, the idea that humanity would do it again was so unthinkable and its depressing. -I could be wrong but I dont think we’ve seen the date the Testimony was from before in Doctor Who, which is interesting because usually future humans with time travel tech coming back are usually from a specific time period in Moffat episodes. Weird that he didn’t stick to that in his last romp. -Rusty was kinda broken when the Doctor first found him. Howd he live for, what did the Doctor say? Thousands of years? MOFFAT JUST BC WE DIDNT SEE A CHARACTER DIE DOESNT MEAN THEY LIVE FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS DANGIT. Also why was Rusty never a contender for the fulfillment of the Hybrid Prophecy if he lived that long?

All in all, not the worst Moffat story, but far from his best. The message and point are obscured to the point of meaninglessness, but the emotion and characters are there, just not in as strong a force as they should be. :(

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sanguinesprout · 8 years ago

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@0@.... x3x... ;u; I did something kinda good today... and also dredging up some backstory and some notes about my family... [Repost 090517]

Welp, I just finished a phone call to a referral service for a therapist person. And... and!! It was hella hard, awkward and nerve wracking, but I... I did it! :D I don’t want to get my hopes up too much, because there’s a chance it may not turn out too well or have that much of an impact, but it will hopefully give me more direction at least. Maybe it could even be something I could write about here as I go along, to record my progress in my own words, it’d be something to encourage and give me a reason to post more hmm... Anyways okay, don’t be overly expectant or think too or far ahead, silly self. I just wanna relish in the fact I did something I usually have so much trouble with, phone calls, and the fact that the subject was even harder this time (with all those deep personal questions that I have never expressed to anyone before), feels like I played a harder stage of the anti-avoidance game and levelled up a little hehe :3 (I’ve been calling to make appointments at the doctors for physical health quite a lot since last year and my phone service provider and a few other things like that which has actually helped me feel a little less anxious about phone calls, so exposure to fears does work! It’s just you have to start small and sometimes some pressure and force is needed to get the gears going~! So if I post more, then posting should get easier too, right!? It’s so difficult to bring the confidence to write, post and not just want to delete everything, but I’ll keep trying..! >:3)

I had been wanting to see a therapist again for a long time but obviously my avoidance and kind of blah past experiences got in the way of that. I have been to see a therapist (I think?) before in my days at both college and university, but this time feels more serious and is under the medical services sort of thing, so I have a bit more hope for it. Looking back to those times though, I am kind of proud of myself, because I tried, and not even once but twice in this instance and also there were many other times I pushed myself to do things to benefit myself and my health, because I knew I was struggling. I would give my past self a good pat on the head if I could. It’s so strange, me then and me now feel so different even though the same troubles remain, I feel like I’m an entirely different person somehow and I often wonder how I was able to conjure such courage and drive to improve back then (though I guess it’s because the situations were different, and the fact that I had some friends to talk to then and I was not physically ill to the extent I am now is probably also a big factor *sigh*).

Anyways, I know that even if I try my best to encourage myself to change my thinking, it would be nowhere near as effective or eloquent as the help of a specialist, so I had to take the initiative to get this train to healthier thinking up and running asap, hence me finally pursuing a therapist again. This time imma try much harder to get better! :U

I actually already requested and was referred to a therapist 2 years ago but never went through with it and the person on the phone today was able to pull up this information of course (though I mentioned it to them too), but it just helped to prove my avoidant-ness which was kind of good in a way I guess lol. The reason I didn’t continue with the past referral is because of some things my mum said. (Hmm.. I was writing a post about my family and their influence on me but I guess I’ll try and merge it into this post.) What happened was a letter was sent to my house explaining that I had requested therapy and to make an appointment by calling some number and my mum saw it and basically said some stuff like “You don’t really need this, do you? This kind of thing is for crazy people” these are not the exact words, especially the word crazy, but it’s too long ago to remember. Basically it was indirectly telling me not to go, that this was something weird and it made me scared and successfully deterred me from going (I’m worried something similar might happen again but I’m definitely gonna make myself go no matter what this time). When I think back on this, I regret not just going ahead, as I could have started making progress already (the subsequent years were wasted in me wallowing in my own sadness and a load of escapism through online gaming, pointless consumption of internet trash etc) but I was even weaker to the judgement from my parents then. The concept of normalcy and the desire for it is such a baffling and troublesome thing... :<

I have to mention that my parents are quite old fashioned in thinking and as such not educated in stuff like mental health, so it’s not entirely their fault they still have perceptions like this. It’s a difficult thing to even bring up, anything is when it comes to talking about feelings, in a place where this never really occurs... my household. When I went to therapy in both college and university (though brief and focused on social anxiety, which is all I thought I had then), it was something I didn’t want my parents to know about so I lied and just told them I had a spontaneous class then, as they could see my timetable and the times I had an appointment with the therapist were outside of those periods (but classes outside what was written on the timetable were common and actually did occur a lot then anyways so it was a believable ploy). I can see now that maybe this wasn’t the best thing to do, it made me very uneasy of course, but it made sense at the time. Anyways I didn’t want to cause any trouble to my family, for them to worry or deter me from taking the chance to feel more independent and take on my own problems. I still have the same kind of feeling now, though I can see that I was trying to avoid judgement back then just as much as I do now orz.

Then I can’t remember exactly how it led to this, though it seems likely the therapist recommended it, but I went to the doctor and got prescribed anti depressants and well my family definitely came to know about this (idk if it was before or after being prescribed it though). I can’t remember how everything went about but I took the meds for idk... I think less than a year(?) and came off them because the side effects were bad. The tablets were not some magical healing miracle of course, they made me feel just.... well, neutral .__. but that’s better than agonisingly depressed though... I mean I could still have sad thoughts, but the spiralling sad sort of mood just couldn’t occur and drag me down like before. I’m not sure if I could be happy either, or well I didn’t have the energy or reason to be happy anyways. The big downside was they made me feel even more brain foggy than I already was, I was lethargic and slept excessively and I was also very migraine-y and nauseous (this is actually how I am a lot of the time anyways lol, but the medicine exacerbated or brought on these symptoms consistently). I think I changed the medicine type to another but still struggled with the side effects. This was quite a handful of years back so some things are not 100% clear in my memory, but I remember it wasn’t a fun time lol. My family obviously saw the negative effects and were worried and didn’t want me taking them any more and so I guess I stopped just like that. I think my family is generally unfavourable towards taking medicines long term unless absolutely necessary, probably even more so about this, since this was for not for treating a physical ailment and you know there’s this whole stigma with mental health in general and treatment with medication and stuff.

Uh, I kind of sidetracked and forgot a lot of the stuff I wanted to write now lol... I just hope that this time with the therapist and everything will go better. When I think back to talking to the referral person, it actually didn’t go that smoothly to begin with or well, at all and it made me pretty uncomfortable and dampened my spirits slightly tbh. It was the most drawly conversation ever and idk it just didn’t seem as professional and polished as I would have expected it to be..? I’m also kind of nervous and confused because the referral person said I’d be contacted to arrange appointments and I asked about where they would be located and they said there’s many places and mentioned something about pubs...???? Aw jeez I should have listened better or ask more clearly but I kind of derped >^<;; I hope they were talking about future exposure methods or something and not flat out making me talk all my problems to them in public from the get go or something... XAX Like whaaaa? Is all therapy not done in a room in some clinical building? @A@ I’m getting kinda worked up over it, but I should just wait and see, I most likely just confused myself, anyways going to therapy is my choice and I don’t have to agree, right! Okay huff keep positive! I can go through with it!

Maybe I’ll write a bit more about my family now since I mentioned them in this post already and this post seems to have become very backstory-ish anyways, so might as well continue ya know~ How to start though..? Well, I kind of feel like my family is quite conservative and this can feel really restrictive, since what they probably want is a sensible and successful daughter and I guess so far I am the sensible (and timid as hell) part at least... orz. Also they do tend to judge me a lot and what they say actually does end up influencing a lot of my actions, but is this how it’s meant to be or am I just being too passive? My family is around me all the time, so it’s no mystery why I feel so caged in, why I’m growing so slowly and why I keep getting knocked back so much all the time. It’s not that they are bad people or that they don’t love me, it’s just that… sometimes things they say really hit me hard and also my parents have never really offered much in the emotional support department and maybe they don’t see it but they didn’t really help in my development as a functional adult either. I’ve always felt like my parents are different from all the other parents out there for many reasons and I really hate to compare them to others, but it happens. My parents are also the overprotective kind which doesn’t help to inspire independence, and I know for a fact I have grown to be very dependant and still feel like a child inside a lot of the time. As well as their old fashioned thinking, there is the big issue of their culture being different from the one all around me, the one outside which I have ended up feeling so alien to.

They are not completely unsupportive of me all the time or anything, it’s just idk... clash of interests? They do care for me deeply, it’s just hard to communicate about feelings and stuff. Every time I write something bad about them it makes me feel bad and I write some defending statement... I can’t help it... :/ I feel that my dad can be very condescending, or well has a prideful personality, so his words are particularly sharp and hurtful sometimes, while my mum is quick to dislike things or have slight prejudices etc. My dad quite easily throws around insults in the spur of the moment and is quite irritable in general. The fact that he doesn’t think about how the person on the receiving end feels or has a reason for whatever first can be particularly hurtful, but it’s because he’s fuelled with anger or annoyance at the time and he does realise and covertly feel bad about it later on. My mum doesn’t get annoyed or react as strongly to things but she has that kind of silent disapproval feeling. The weight of their words are so crushing sometimes and it makes it difficult for me to just be myself, without being afraid of them commenting something that’ll just make me not want to try again... idk if it is because of things like that, that I hold myself back or if it’s just lack of confidence in general too though >< They do care for me and want what’s best for me, it’s just bleh, like there is not as much freedom as there could be? I feel envious of other people who can enjoy being them self and that have parents that allow them that freedom and accept their choices unconditionally, aw >^<

I’ve never talked about my feelings with them and neither have they disclosed their own (but maybe this is the same way they were brought up?). Their displays of affection towards each other are so slight, and to me are there but kind of restricted... I don’t want to keep comparing them to other parents unconsciously but it just feels like they aren’t quite as affectionate as I wish they were, or as I’ve seen to be the norm. Normal... normal doesn’t exist right? Or it’s not the same for everything... everyone... .__. My parents take care of me and my living needs, we eat together at least once a day and have some small mostly pleasant conversations, occasionally we go shopping together but we don’t exactly spend much free time with each other (or at least not as much as in the past) even though we live in the same house. I’ve been trying quite hard since a while back to get my family to participate in some little activities like playing board games or watching tv together but it only worked very few times and the effort I have to go through is very tiresome as they are always so reluctant (also talking to my dad is really difficult because I suck at speaking my second language and can never get what I’m trying to say across coherently). But they also have things they want to do, and I respect that, it’s just that some of these things could easily be done together, but they aren’t. I thought back to my childhood and couldn’t remember ever having played together with my parents then, I mean I’m sure they did occasionally maybe but it doesn’t seem to have been significant enough to remember, which saddens me. They seemed to be working a majority of the time back then up until now, so my sister was the one that always played with me and stuff.

I’m writing like my parents totally ignore me but that’s not the case, idk how to phrase things well orz they are generally warm people but idk there’s just this feeling of disconnect and awkwardness. It doesn’t help at all that there’s a slight language barrier between me and my dad either, but I am trying my best :< I think my family doesn’t have much time together, because like I mentioned before my parents work so much, they try so hard because they have to look after me and my sister (though she also works, supports them back, has a secondary home and can take care of herself now). They put so much effort in what they do, they always want the best for those around them, the suggestions I put forward to make things easier for them are quite easily rejected though probably because they prefer to do things the way they’re used to. “How are you going to live/look after yourself when we’re not here anymore?” It really hurts hearing this, it just proves how useless and dependent I am, but neither of them allow me to do stuff around the house nor have they set aside time to teach me stuff :< I am constantly reminded that time is going so quickly, it’s both been mentioned and observed that my parents are getting older (I noticed that this is one of their worries, though they never talk about it to me, at least not directly), I know they can’t support me forever... and I don’t want it to be this way, life hurts and I can’t help but feel powerless. The thing is I am very aware of everything, and there isn’t a moment when I look at them that I don’t worry for them, I don’t want for them to have to work so hard, I want to be able to get a job, I want to be independent and I want to be there for them. It’s all so difficult... I feel like even though I’m trying, it’s much too slow, it not enough... But I have to just keep pressing on... I... can do something... :c

About my sister, even we find each other annoying so often, and even though many of the things she also had said spurred the most darkest feelings in me, I am really grateful that she is here. Lately I felt we were kind of growing a bit distant too because she has so much adult responsibilities to tend to and I just sit here like a lost child, I feel like a burden and don’t want her to have to think she has to look after me forever either. I’m also still very wary around her (because she does judge me quite easily all the time too) but she listens to my worries when I do finally get the courage to say them and the most recent time she was very kind about it. I think she is as close to a ‘safe person’ as I could have, she's been helping me quite a lot lately and though she doesn’t fully understand the extent of how I am affected, she could still relate to some of the things I felt which felt somewhat relieving. Being able to confide in each other about feelings and other general stuff again like we used to is definitely something very valuable, reassuring and that I’m thankful of.

I feel so silly for being too sensitive and getting angered or hurt whenever people say things to me, but I never want this feeling escalate into resentment or straight up blaming. Everyone has problems of their own and/or things in the past that may have affected them and made them behave how they do. Things aren’t always intentional, and people can genuinely be unaware of how their words and actions can affect others or the extent of such. It’s all about communication and understanding and sadly, this is one of the biggest pieces of puzzle missing in my life, but maybe I can find it again and put it in place soon with a little help.

Words are so impacting, they can wound so deeply but they can also be so powerfully uplifting, I have to fill my life with the ones that bring positive change, try harder to do the things that really matter and learn to appreciate myself, others and life more. Don’t look back, don’t back down, don’t give up...!! It’s hard now but I can get through it, I have to believe in myself more!

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