#homoerotic stabbing my beloved

[godlygivenanxiety]

i just think that it should've been strahm to get stabbed by mark, the thin blade sinking to the hilt and shoved so eagerly, the very tip of his thumb crosses the limit of skin and caresses weeping flesh as he mercilessly twists it to bring out a pained, choked up gasp,,,, what warmth there was inside peter's now coating mark's knuckles, they're close enough that he's practically hissing inside of the agent's mouth before peter's head's turning away,,,,,,,,,,,

[wisecrackingeric-2]

Let Me Show You How

Leon Kennedy/Luis Sera

Tags/Warnings: None, just Leon being an idiot and Luis flirting with him

Summary: Part 1 of 2, second part is up on my page under the tag ‘ericswriting’

Set in an AU where Luis doesn’t die during Re4 and instead joins Leon on his mission, the two of them are tasked with breaking into a rich man’s mansion and blend in with the crowd. Only problem, Leon’s disguise is a dress. And he doesn’t know how to do makeup

But Luis does

AN: This is just part 1 of 2!! The sequels up on my page under the tag ‘ericswriting’ !! Also go check it out on my AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/47596723

this fic is based off of my beloved friend @Mostlyghostly42’s amazing artwork of Leon and Luis you can find here and on their Instagram page!!!!! Please please go check them out!! This fic was also based loosely off of that image of the girl on top of her “friend” doing her makeup and it’s very clearly homoerotic. Y’all know the one

—

“Have I told you yet that this is stupid?”

“Sí, Mi amigo, many-a times in the last hour, actually”

Leon S. Kennedy, US government special agent and B.O.W annihilation header, was leaning awkwardly in between a door and several stacked boxes, desperately trying to fit the collar of his newfound dress up his shoulders, but with no luck.

Every time Leon tried to pull at the back of his dress to bring the trim closer up his chest, the solid corset around his waist underneath the many- many- layers of fabric refused to budge. No matter how hard Leon tried to hold himself or his shoulders, the neckline continued to slip down his chest, revealing what he could only really describe as an awkward amount of cleavage.

It didint help that with every attempt, his bunched-up skirt ruffles that Leon was holding onto with his spare hand seemed to similarly slip out of his grasp the second he moved his body around, even in the most subtlest of movements. Leon couldn’t tell if it was the fabric of the dress, or his sweaty palms. Probably both.

“That neckline isn’t supposed to sit right up at your neck, y’know,”

Luis’ voice had a painfully teasing edge to it. “It’s supposed to sit juuuust on top of your chest”

Leon broke his focus for just a second to see his partner in crime fixing himself up in front of the mirror, with more than enough space to himself to spare, unlike Leon, still stuck in between the door and the boxes.

Luis Sera had managed to sneak the two of them into what could only be described as a dressing room of sorts- with mirrors lining the back wall and boxes full of old silverware and jewellery.

The room was dusty, and a singled yellowed lamp hung overhead. The only door out was this heavy iron thing, and given that the room itself wasn’t actually very large; Leon felt uncharacteristically claustrophobic. But it was hard to remain cool and collected (and more importantly, concentrated) when you had Luis-Prince-Charming-Sera hanging around you like a crow.

“Oh, what? So I’m just supposed to just leave all this hanging out?” Leon dropped all the fabric he was holding to gesture obviously to his cleavage. Leon adorned an extremely elaborate red dress, covered head-to-toe in small adornments and splashes of colour here and there. Tiny details dotted the front of the corset, with the trimmings on the dress being a complimentary shade of blue. Underneath it all were, to his dismay, even more layers, trailing up his arms and hands and ended with the most humanly inconvenient ruffles. Yet somehow, Leon’s shoulders and chest were left completely bare, save for the dramatic chocker with a definitely not obvious large ruby stitched into the middle.

How Luis convinced him to go along with this was beyond him. That was just the charm of Luis Sera, he supposed.

After saving the charming man from a stab to the back-literally- Luis hesitantly agreed to working with the US Government as compensation for his crimes. On one condition; he got to work alongside Leon Kennedy.

Why he actively chose to stay with him, Leon has no idea.

It made his chest flutter when he heard the news, leaving him unable to think about anything else for the rest of the day. But Leon was never gonna admit that. It’s not like it was a big deal, anyways. It’s not like it made Leon wanna smile every time he thought about it.

But he very quickly (jokingly, of coarse) regretted that decision when the D.S.O told the two of them that they were tasked with infiltrating into a rich man’s party- the president of a high-end company that once upon a time worked alongside Umbrella- to find his stash of vials containing DNA for a B.O.W prototype. How these kinds of people kept finding new and innovative ways to create giant society-threatening very illegal bio weapons was beyond Leon.

But at least Luis seemed to be enjoying the job. A little too much, in fact. Because somehow, someway, by some insane logic (and charm), he had convinced Leon to wear an extremely elaborate matching dress to ‘fit in’ with the fine wealthy at the party. But Leon was quickly beginning to regret agreeing.

“This is idiotic, Luis!” Leon threw his hands in the air in defeat. “Nobody’s even gonna be convinced by this! I’m not a dress expert but I’m pretty sure this isn’t even a modern-day gown! This is, like, something from the 1700’s, right? Where did you even find this, anyways?” Leon continued to huff his concerns as he crossed his arms against his chest and pouted against the boxes. His heels were making it hard for him to stand up straight and look at least somewhat presentable. Not that this was the time to.

“And what’re you even wearing?”

Luis hadn’t fully revealed his outfit to Leon yet, keeping his back turned to him as he intently styled his long locks in the mirror, paying no mind to Leon’s ‘suffering’.

Finally, though, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he turned around to reveal his full outfit to Leon. A striking red and black suit, with a long, draping tailcoat and pointed lapels, sported by a pair of high-waisted black pants. The entire outfit seemed to frame his body perfectly, and Leon tried his best not to stare at the nearly fully open white collared shirt he wore underneath.

Luis rested his hand against his chin, eyeing Leon up and down, examining his dress for the first time. Leon didint know where to look, not wanting to make direct eye contact. He hated how Luis made him feel. Face hot, shy; he did his best not to show him. Lest Leon give the man a confidence boost.

Running a hand through his seemingly perfectly styled locks, Luis rested his weight against one leg, “Hmmm. You’re right, Dulcinea, something is missing”

Luis gave his head a small tilt, and Leon wanted to go insane. Still doing his best to avoid eye contact, suddenly painfully aware of how the dress sat against his skin. Luis’ eyes examining him left Leon’s brain on dial-up mode for a solid few seconds before he could construct a witty response. “Dulcinea? No more Sancho? So who’re you supposed to be, Don Quixote?”

Luis gave a toothy smile,

“Ah, so you’ve picked up on the theme finally, eh?”

“I thought Don Quixote was supposed to be a bumbling fool with a basin on his head.”

Luis bit his bottom lip to keep down a chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Oh, sure, but we can have a bit of fun with it though, can’t we, cariño?” He began to step closer. “After all, it is a fancy party” Leon was suddenly very aware of the way his boots clacked against the stone floor. He tried his best to keep his composure as Luis leaned in a little closer. Was he going crazy, or was the man batting his eyelashes at him? Whatever. He could feel his face heat up. Whatever.

Leon gave out a scoff of disapproval.

“It doesn’t matter anyways. Nobodys gonna be convinced by this outfit” he repeated again, this time in a low mumble. The blonde awkwardly hunched his shoulders and let his arms fall to his side. Without the bravo of his combat-style clothing, he felt extremely awkward. The other man wasn’t helping either.

Luis stepped back again. Straightening up and tapping his chin with his index finger, letting out a little tsk-tsk of disapproval with his tongue, shaking his head ever so slightly, still eyeing up Leon up and down.

“Not with that attitude they won’t. Give me a minute, yankee, I have an idea”

Leon let out a sigh of relief as Luis turned to walk back towards his satchel that was leaning against the row of mirrors. He shuffled around the items inside, mumbling something in Spanish the other man couldn’t quite catch.

Leon took the time to catch a breath and assess his situation, leaning back into a familiar pattern of thinking and strategising- one he had relied on for years.

Ok. Just outside this dressing room door is the fire exit that leads straight to the entrance. We can sneak through there, make some chit-chat with the other rich snobs, and if we’re lucky, find the man we’re looking for and see if we can get him to slip any information that we could use. Then, we can excuse ourselves- maybe I could get Luis to pretend to be drunk or sick- and see if we can find any hidden entrances to a downstairs basement super top-secret laboratory. Rich bastards always have something like that. Then we-“

“Ahem”

Leon was snapped out of his thought process when Luis fake-coughed to get his attention. He was suddenly much closer than before. Easily at an arms length. When did Luis get over here without Leon noticing?

“Uh- y-yeah, sorry, w-what?”

Leon mentally cursed himself for stuttering.

Luis tried and failed to conceal his grin. Biting his tongue without saying anything, the Spaniard lifted his hand up to reveal what appeared to be a brand of lipstick, held delicately between his fingers like a cigarette. He flipped it around in his fingers a little, as if to tease Leon. And it worked. Because Leon pressed himself further up against the door, eyes widening.

“W-What are you doing-“ Leon was immediately on edge, but Luis just playfully rolled his eyes and huffed. “Dios mío, relajate, Querido, it’s only lipstick”

Leon was still suspicious, going back and fourth between Luis and the lipstick he held so eloquently between his fingers, rolling them around like it was nothing. He wasn’t even looking as he flipped them between each finger. He’d never admit it, not in a million years, but Leon could watch him do tricks with that lighter of his all day long.

“So… do you want me to put it on? Or….”

“Have you ever applied lipstick to yourself, Chico?”

Leon opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out when he realised Luis was right. And of coarse, Luis just had to give a righteous grin, proving that he’d won the debate. Leon wanted to hate that grin so badly, but he could never get himself to.

Despite everything he does, Leon could never get himself to dislike anything about Luis.

He couldn’t get himself to not be infatuated, either.

Luis unscrewed the cap of the lipstick, revealing a dark, reddish-pink colour. As he began to lean forward, it suddenly hit Leon what was about to happen. He held his breath against his own will, heart thrumming against his chest as all he could do was stare right back into Luis’ grey eyes. He couldn’t help but notice how some of his eyelashes were going white. They were especially long, too. And pretty. Like the rest of him.

“Open your mouth”

Leon almost choked on air at the sudden request. It took a good few seconds for his brain to process what Luis had just said (and how…. Not inappropriate it was in this context)

Yet Luis kept a stoic face. He stared up at Leon through his long eyelashes, his hand hovering just in front of his face.

Leon, reluctantly and hesitantly, did as he was told and opened his mouth, slightly, letting Luis lean forward and begin to apply the lipstick.

Leon could feel Luis’ warm breath against his neck. It made Leon’s chest tighten and his breathing quicken.

When Luis bought a hand up to steady the other mans’ chin, being oh-so delicate, barely even a ghost of a touch- Leon felt like he was gonna pass out then and there. While Luis was intently focused on fixing his lips up, Leon couldn’t break his stare. He never got to look at the other mans face this close-up, and it made him wish he could take a picture so he could take in every little detail and store it in his memory permanently. His tiny moles and scratches, the way his nose was shaped, the slight resting smile he always had, his pretty eyes.. Oh god. Leon was in for it now. His brain wondered what Luis’ lips would be like to apply lipstick on.

After what felt like both half a second and an entire eternity, Luis finally stepped back to examine his work. Leon suddenly felt disappointed at the loss of contact between the two- he wasn’t sure if he was hoping for something… more to happen or not. Leon couldn’t control whatever facial expression he had on, he just prayed it didint match what was in his head.

Tilting his head to the left a little, Luis smiled softly at his handiwork. With a little hum, he stated; “There, Dulcinea. Now you’ll be the jewel of the ball”

Leon couldn’t even bring himself to come up with a witty response. Just a very quiet, mumbled “thanks”.

“Oh, and ah, one last thing”

Luis took out a hair pin from the back of his hair that Leon didint even realise he had in, and before he could say anything, Luis wrapped his arms around his shoulders and leaned in against him once again. Leon’s breath hitched, now definitely aware of how loud his heart was beating. He could only pray Luis couldn’t feel it.

The Spaniard leaned his head against the crook of his shoulder, his beard scratching

his neck and his hair tickling Leon’s chin. He tried everything in his power to keep composed, but to no avail. His mind felt like it was going a million miles per hour. The party outside the door began to roar as more people flooded in, but everything felt muffled to Leon. Was Luis aware of how he was making Leon feel? How vulnerable he was letting himself be, and how, to be frank, he’d never felt like this for another man before?

Luis slowly leaned back. Looking up at Leon through his eyelashes, and with a small smile, he gave him a knowing wink. ‘Oh, that bastard,’ Leon thought to himself, ‘he knows what he’s doing to me’

Luis clapped his hands together, smiling to himself; “there ya go, yankee. That should fix the cleavage problem you had. But I, for one, didint mind it in the slightest”

Leon looked down at the neckline of his dress to discover that Luis had expertly pinned the back up to bring the trim up higher, so he was less exposed. Leon did, in fact, feel a lot more comfortable. He was grateful for Luis’ help, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t not gonna get one final say.

“Oh, so you get to have your entire chest out for the world to see?”

Luis laughed, a bright, loud chuckle that was infectious enough to make the stoic Leon smirk. It was true, though; all his scars, from top surgery to fixing himself up from the Plaga were out just for the world to see.

But Leon, for one, didint mind it in the slightest.

“C’mon then, Señor,”

Luis bowed slightly and extended his hand to Leon, which he gladly took

“Let’s go wreck this party, Sí?”

Leon smiled

“I’d be honoured to go fuck up some rich bastards up with you”

Luis smiled back,

“Then, Dulcinea, it’s a date”

[liliallowed]

pov: crimson comes back and is like: this beat cheating on me!?

then proceeds to reset the timeline.

then the two bitches fight over dust's attention.

crimson being the BAD boi he has to catch, taking his attention ALLLLL to themself while reader is just there watching crimsons middle finger raised AT reader as a victory stance. as dust stabs them to death as if their own version of "making out"

crimsondust my fucking beloved.

crimson would fucking even threaten reader then get dust all angwy so they can just have his attention on them.

yeah no fuck this bullshit crimson wants bloodshed they want DRAMA!

that dust hates THEM more than he loves YOU! HAH! FUK UUUUU NE N MY MORTAL ENEMY WILL HAVE SOMETHING YOU NEVER WILL

love is temporary HOMOEROTIC MURDER IS ETERNAL.

[inadequate-nefelibata]

S3E5 “Miyagi-do” | Cobra Kai (2018)

[babischlong-six]

10 Characters, 10 Fandoms, 10 Tags

10 Characters you love or 10 Characters you want to stab in the eye

Tagged by lovely @gosiksmallspace ❤️

In no particular order, here are ten of my many, many favorites. (See if you can detect a pattern 😂)

1. Luo Fei – Detective L

He's a gentleman, he's a bitch, he's kindhearted, he causes problems on purpose, he respects women, he's a genius, but he's not an arrogant prick, as is the current wont of writers writing smart people. Luo Fei is unselfconsciously weird, ridiculously cute, and has the best sense of humor. Not to mention drop-dead gorgeous and played by Bai Yu. Luo Fei stole my heart from the moment he showed up on screen. Also he gives very bisexual energy.

2. Lan Qiren – Mo Dao Zu Shi

A pissy, honorable, rigidly uptight old man who spends his entire life picking up the slack of his ridiculously messy family. As you may come to find after reading through this list, I am partial to the characters archetype known as a "DILF." He's not even a main character, I'm just viscerally into him.

3. Han Jaeho – The Merciless

He's a terrible person, but GOD, he's irresistibly charming. Han Jaeho does the absolute worst things, but he still manages to inspire sympathy. Is it the magnetic personality? That weird cackle? The way he looks in a suit, covered in blood? The screwed-up, homoerotic relationship he has with the protagonist? We may never know.

4. Elim Garak – Star Trek: Deep Space 9

I can't even express how much this character is beloved by me. He's a fussy middle-aged tailor. He's a terrifying super-spy in exile from a fascist alien superpower. Everything that comes out of his mouth is a lie. He's completely devoted to what he believes is his duty. His first appearance onscreen, he makes a blatant come-on at a young man. I love him.

5. Lin Nansheng – The Rebel

The character development on this guy is just *chef's kiss*. He's honorable, but he's a spy. He's idealistic and self-sacrificing, but he's also way too devoted to the "cause," capable of but not wanting to to endanger and sacrifice those closest to him. He is absolutely miserable and incredibly hot – especially later on in the series when he comes into his own.

6. Wu Xie – Tomb of the Sea

Wu Xie specifically as played by Qin Hao has a special place in my heart. He's a bastard in the same way that a cat pushing things off a table is. He's middle-aged and tired. He has intense chemistry with literally anyone he's on screen with. Morally ambiguous with ultimately noble goals, which is so sexy.

7. Tatsu – Way of the Househusband

I fucking love that manga. A former gangster turned househusband approaches the everyday struggles and triumphs of domestic life from a very unique perspective. Also, he can get it.

8. John Watson – The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson

I grew up on this serial, absolutely fuckin love it. Vitaly Solomin's Watson is great – a perfect balance of spirit and enthusiasm, whole being a companion rather than a sidekick to Holmes (like in so many other adaptations). At this point with how I've grown up watching this serial and keep revisiting it, he and Livanov's Holmes feel kinda like my uncles.

9. Milady – The Three Musketeers

My very first literary/movie crush. She's such a cool, compelling villain, and a really interesting character. I was entranced by her as a kid (and confused about why 😂) and I still am. Again, the Soviet Three Musketeers serial version of her is paramount in my heart because it's what I grew up with.

10. Xiao Long Nü – Return of the Condor Heroes

Another early crush. She kicks ass, she's gorgeous, and she's got an outwardly cold personality. Again, young me didn't stand a chance.

Anyways, that's all folks. Tagging @the-marron ❤️ no pressure tho

[theburiedgay]

Top MDZS deaths

Anyone can die. Who died best?

1. Wei Wuxian

As much as I appreciate The Cliff Scene in The Untamed, I've never heard of anything more hardcore than a necromancer concluding that his necromancy amulet is too powerful to exist, destroying it, and then getting devoured by his own zombie army. Metal as fuck.

2. Mo Xuanyu

Rejected by both sides of his family, the cultivation world, and the locals of his hometown. Congratulations on turning the humble enterprise of committing suicide in your room into a badass blood ritual that actually WORKED!! Name a bigger power move than resurrecting the founder of demonic cultivation to kill your abusers and then probably wreak havoc on the entire world or something idk that's up to him. The way that his body is preserved and lives on the rest of its natural life as a vessel for a stranger while his own soul is permanently destroyed?! Metal af.

3. Jin Guangyao

King!!!! King!!!! King behavior!!! First of all, your whole elaborately crafted web of lies comes crashing down and before you get the Hell out of dodge you stop to recover your beloved mother's remains, proving at last that in fact you do sometimes choose sentimentality over cold logic?? Getting stabbed by your best friend/sworn brother/paramour/whatever the fuck those two had going on and then standing up and walking towards him further impaling urself on his sword? Homoerotic as hell. And that's not all!! Getting attacked by the reassembled fierce corpse of your other sworn brother/ex-bestie/ex-employer/ex-boyfriend/or something that you murdered yourself?? Saying "stay and die with me" to Zewu Jun?? Romantic in the most unhinged of ways I love it. And then pushing him away saving his life at the last second before your neck is snapped (ouch!) and you are sealed in a coffin with your murder victim who was also your murderer and your bodies will be buried together forever O_o Good god!!! I'll be thinking about this the rest of my gd life!!! Fuck!!!

4. Xiao Xingchen

Pure elegance. Aesthetically flawless. The sheer simplicity of slicing ur own throat open in front of the risen corpse of your best friend you unwittingly killed, in front of the guy who tricked u into killing him, and bonus surprise, forcing said guy to experience Feelings for the first time. Shattering your own soul through the sheer force of your grief. Iconic.

5. A-Qing

Yes queen! You stood up to Xue Yang!! With no means of protecting urself! And after being losing your ability to see and speak and then fucking dying, you went back home to protect innocent wanderers from your resident serial killer!! This speaks of immense bravery, determination, persistence, morality, and altruism. Imagine what she could have done if she could have been a cultivator? She could have taken on the whole world single-handedly. Rest in piece A-Qing.

6. Jin Zixuan

The aesthetic of having ur actual heart ripped out. Exquisite. Falling to ur knees and using ur last breath to passive aggressively remind ur killer that you were TRYING to help ur beloved wife see her adored little brother again. Oh it stings!

Honorable Mention: The fiance of the woman who prayed to the dancing statue goddess for her fiance to love her the rest of his life that was subsequently eaten by said goddess. Bad luck king

[passionate-reply]

This week on Great Albums: My first video about Depeche Mode--and it’s about their first album! I think it’s pretty good, but a lot of people HATE it. Are you intrigued? Take a listen, or read the transcript, and see where you fall!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! Today, I’ll be looking at the somewhat rough start of one of the most iconic bands in the history of electronic music: Depeche Mode, and their 1981 debut, Speak & Spell. While Depeche Mode are certainly a beloved band, many of their fans actively revile Speak & Spell. What’s wrong with it? Well, it has songs that sound like this.

Music: “Just Can’t Get Enough”

“Just Can’t Get Enough” isn’t exactly the kind of song Depeche Mode are associated with--though it did make an entry in the charts, and remains fairly well known today, largely thanks to its use in advertising. The band’s “classic run,” spanning roughly from the mid-80s to the mid-90s, saw them achieve substantial mainstream adulation, as a pop act peddling dark and gothic themes, and maintaining a substantial electronic element to their music, without ever becoming inaccessible to rock listeners. They were even “rock and roll” enough to consistently break America, which is no small feat for, essentially, a synth-pop band from England. That synth-pop heritage dominates the sonic palate of Speak & Spell, and it’s hard to imagine a die-hard rock fan vibing with upbeat, almost saccharine pop ditties like “What’s Your Name?”

Music: “What’s Your Name?”

Of course, “What’s Your Name?” has another big problem besides favouring bright, chirping synth riffs over the guitar-based chug of tracks like “Personal Jesus.” Its seemingly homoerotic lyrics might be said to constitute the first instance of Depeche Mode engaging in what we might call musical “queer-baiting.” Thumbing their noses at norms of sexuality and gender presentation have earned the band a substantial queer following throughout their career, but it’s not such a smart move if you’re trying to attract macho rock listeners, and get yourself into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.

Part of the reason why Depeche Mode were ultimately able to do those things, later in their career, is that they had a pretty handy scapegoat: Vince Clarke. Clarke was a founding member of the band, and as the chief songwriter for all but two tracks on Speak & Spell, he was unequivocally the creative force driving the album. Conveniently enough, Clarke not only departed from Depeche Mode immediately after this first album, but went on to serve as an integral member of two unequivocally poppy duos, Yazoo and Erasure. But as easy as it is to simply blame Vince Clarke’s interest in cheerful pop for the apparent failures of Speak & Spell, this hypothesis doesn’t hold up. Some Clarke-penned numbers, like “Puppets,” are at least as gloomy as anything from the mind of Martin L. Gore, who took over songwriting duties on every subsequent Depeche Mode LP.

Music: “Puppets”

“Puppets” is pretty far from a feel-good song. Those fairly bright synths remain, but here, they feel more like a tense crescendo of violins, as something goes poorly in a horror film, and a serrated synth stab answers them from below. Dave Gahan’s semi-whispered delivery of the vocals, which narrate the perspective of a manipulative and controlling partner, add even more to its sinister ambiance. Given only a minor aesthetic facelift, “Puppets” could fit just fine onto most other Depeche Mode albums, even if Clarke did write it. I actually think the softer, poppier touches this track DOES have serve it well, and make it feel a bit insidious--like a lover who seems loveable and charming at first, before revealing their abusive tendencies over time. Another track that really benefits from creating tension between pop fluff and things macabre is the striking “I Sometimes Wish I Was Dead.”

Music: “I Sometimes Wish I Was Dead”

“I Sometimes Wish I Was Dead” features an almost gratingly toylike synth riff, that reminds me a bit of those custom cell phone ringtones from the 00s. Its lyrics are also almost painfully chipper, at least at first, as is Gahan’s infantile delivery of them...but there seems to be some irony there. While that provocative title doesn’t actually appear, the song seems to be obliquely telling a story of someone dealing with a breakup, albeit cloaked in this eerily sunny music. International editions of *Speak & Spell* would remove this track in favour of the non-album A-side “Dreaming of Me,” presumably targeting it for its inflammatory title and short runtime of just over two minutes. “I Sometimes Wish I Was Dead” is a powerful reminder that just because something has a shiny pop veneer doesn’t mean it’s disposable, or that it lacks in artistic complexity.

Still, if you’re in the market for something that feels more like “classic” Depeche Mode, Speak & Spell can deliver on that front as well. Look no further than Gore’s contributions to the album, such as “Tora! Tora! Tora!” With its frantic refrain, and troubling themes of nuclear holocaust, “Tora! Tora! Tora!” feels more like Depeche Mode’s classic run than just about anything else on Speak & Spell, prefiguring iconic tracks like “Leave In Silence” and “People Are People” quite well.

Music: “Tora! Tora! Tora!”

Speak & Spell’s cover is certainly strange and a bit opaque, showing some sort of bird in its nest from a very low angle. The background is almost entirely a lurid, artificial-looking pinkish red, with no other recognizable figures to ground this landscape in reality. Between the chaotic textures of the nest, and the surreal emptiness of the scene, it comes across as a sort of nightmare world, albeit one populated by only this fairly non-threatening creature...that we know of. If we look closely at that bird, we can start to see what looks like a transparent veil covering its neck and head. I like to interpret this image as a representation of the natural world, destroyed by human callousness: an animal suffocates under a sheet of plastic, while the sky behind it glows red with bombs “raining from the sky,” as in “Tora! Tora! Tora!”

Despite the title, you won’t hear any samples of the titular toy on Speak & Spell--though Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark would famously incorporate some on their album Dazzle Ships, a few years later. The title “Speak & Spell” would seem to suggest the album’s light, playful tone, and sense of pop novelty. A Speak & Spell is, of course, a fun and entertaining toy, which repeats the same handful of things over and over, as a pop song might be played *ad infinitum* on the radio. Perhaps the way the songs sneak a darker emotional undercurrent past their listeners is parallel to how the toy covertly educates children in basic spelling, while also being amusing to fool around with.

After Speak & Spell, it took several more years for Depeche Mode to really find their footing, and launch into that classic period of theirs where they released most of their best-loved material. Despite the absence of Vince Clarke, their sophomore LP, A Broken Frame, is stylistically rather similar to Speak & Spell, and pairs somber tracks like “The Sun and the Rainfall” and “My Secret Garden” with some very upbeat ones like “The Meaning of Love.” If the fact that Clarke could write “Puppets” didn’t sell you on my assertion that he isn’t the singular problem with Speak & Spell, the fact that Martin Gore wrote “The Meaning of Love” should serve as proof that the desire to make catchy pop tunes didn’t rest solely on any one person’s shoulders.

Music: “The Meaning of Love”

My favourite track from Speak & Spell is the opener, “New Life.” “New Life” was also released as a single and made substantial headway in the charts, though it doesn’t seem quite as well remembered as “Just Can’t Get Enough.” Like “I Sometimes Wish I Was Dead,” “New Life” is almost disgustingly catchy and hooky, but hides some surprisingly dark lyrics. But I’ll freely admit that I don’t particularly have some sophisticated, intellectually justified reason for liking this song the most, besides just thinking it’s a real toe-tapper. While I’ve gone to great lengths to dispel the idea that Speak & Spell is nothing but cheerful pop, I’d also like to point out that simply being cheerful pop isn’t exactly a musical sin. Whether you like it or not, it’s certainly far from easy to write a great pop song that stands the test of time, the way tracks like “New Life” and “Just Can’t Get Enough” have, and simply pointing out that they’re not as morose as later Depeche Mode songs isn’t a worthwhile criticism of them. While I enjoy a lot of more gothic music myself, I think a work of art that elicits the emotion of joy has as much of a shot at being a Great Album as one that wants to make us angry, sad, or afraid. On that note, I’ve reached the end of my video--as always, thanks for listening.

Music: “New Life”

[jeannereames]

STEALING FIRE, Jo Graham

I decided to begin my reviews of Alexander novels with one I quite liked. (For why I was reading a bunch at once, see the end.)

First, purchasing information and reviews on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/7093919-stealing-fire

In 2008, Jo Graham exploded onto the historical fantasy scene with her well-reviewed Black Ships, and has continued to produce high-quality stories ever since, sometimes co-writing with fellow SFF author Melissa Scott. Not all of her novels are historical fantasy (she’s written quite a few media tie-ins for Stargate Atlantis), but quite a few are.

Jo has lush prose, and often, although not always, focuses on women in ancient settings, so with Gull in Black Ships, and Charmian in Hand of Isis. But in Stealing Fire, the main character is Lydias, bastard son of a slave woman, sold into slavery himself by his own father, but through his resourcefulness, he manages not only to win his freedom, but to rise fairly high in Alexander’s army under the command of Hephaistion. Later, he’s trusted by Ptolemy to get his mistress Thais and their children safely to Egypt, and after that, he earns increasingly important commands under the man who will become Ptolemy I Soter, first Greco-Macedonian king of Egypt.

While the novel’s blurb places it during the Successor Wars immediately following Alexander’s death—and the first scene actually opens following a brawl over the king’s dead body on his bed—quite a number of flashbacks describe Lydias’s memories of Alexander’s campaign. In fact, there are enough of them that I’d call Hephaistion a secondary character. (Alexander falls more into the tertiary category.)

Lydias hero-worships Hephaistion, and after his death, is adrift, although he still serves Alexander until Alexander’s own death, when he’s then co-opted by Ptolemy, who he eventually comes to respect and chooses to serve.

If the novel contains plenty of adventure and some battle scenes, the main focus is on the fates of officers like Lydias who weren’t high enough to take a stab at empire, but were increasingly forced to choose sides in the chaos. For the most part, Lydias is just trying to survive, but to do so with honor and dignity. Even before he loses his beloved commander, he also suffers a personal tragedy that leaves him understandably melancholy and a bit fatalistic.

As the novel is historical fantasy, magic is real, but like Judith Tarr (who also wrote a novel on ATG) the magic depicted is a natural extension of what the ancients already believed. It simply works. (This is in stark contrast to some of the poorer examples such as David Gemmel’s befuddling Lion of Macedon and Dark Prince, which amounted to Dungeons-and-Dragons Does Greece.) In any case, Graham’s use of magic felt organic and natural, and appropriate to the cultures (both Macedonian and Egyptian). It’s also the second in her “Numinous World” series, which involves the fates of certain souls across various reincarnations, but this is not a strong theme and the novel can easily be read without reading Black Ships first.

Graham also shows her familiarity with the messy muddle of sources for the early wars. Her depiction of the confrontation in Egypt between Ptolemy and Perdikkas, after Ptolemy absconds with Alexander’s body, follows closely on Diodorus’s account in Book 18. If I had any complaint about the politics, it’s that I’d have liked to hear more about what was going on in other places, including the rising dissatisfaction with Perdikkas from Antipatros, Antigonos, and Krateros. But that would have taken the focus off of Lydias, who had less reason to know these things, so I understand why her description of the rising civil war is truncated.

Readers may also be pleased to hear that Graham doesn’t shy away from both homoerotic and heteroerotic relationships. Lydias is comfortably bisexual, and Alexander and Hephaistion are definitively lovers. Bagoas is even in the novel, and takes a lot from Renault’s version, although more the Bagoas of Funeral Games than of Persian Boy. If published in 2010, before a lot of trans and queer awareness, Graham expertly navigates Bagoas as a non-binary character. If I may personally doubt Bagoas was anywhere near as significant as Renault and some subsequent authors have depicted him, I liked this Bagoas far better than Oliver Stone’s post-Renault take.

And of course, Hephaistion. He gets to have a personality here! And while we see him always through Lydias’s love-soaked gaze, he does genuinely seem like an admirable person. He treats Lydias well from the start (which has something to do with Lydias’s devotion to him), and is depicted as competent as he rises increasingly higher during Alexander’s campaign.

So if you’re not already familiar with Jo Graham, give this one a read, and then pick up Black Ships and Hand of Isis, too.

*All these novels were read (or in a few cases reviews) for a paper delivered at Emory University for the 2019 Annual Meeting of the Association of Ancient Historian’s panel on “Alexander’s Afterlives.” My paper was titled, “Alexander and Hephaistion in Fiction after Stonewall.”

[hjbender]

tell me about Venom and most importantly symbrock. I have (a mighty) need of your viewpoint

I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED, ANON though no one else is, I’m sure

(spoilers and picspam ahead)

I personally loved Venom (and ignored the critics, like I usually do). I found it very entertaining, the CGI was nice and juicy, and I liked seeing Tom Hardy squirming and sweating and moaning in a helpless welter. It had its drawbacks—the biggest for me being the end scene and the whole “we’ll get her back” crap they threw in to mitigate all those scary homoerotic vibes that were the whole reason I even saw this movie—but if there’s anything we Marvel fans have learned in the past several years, it’s that fanfiction (and fanart) covers a multitude of cinematic sins. We canonize the good and rework the bad, as our fandom ancestors did before us.

But anyway, symbrock. Yeah, I dunno about anyone else, but this how I saw the movie:

This is Eddie Brock, gregarious bisexual motorcycle-riding twunk, hard on the outside but soft on the inside, with a heart of pure gold and a thirst for the truth. His one fault? He’s curious and doesn’t know how to resist the temptation to violate people’s privacy. But he learns his lesson the hard way, and that’s what ultimately sends him spiralling down into one of the worst periods of his life. He loses his fiancée, his job (his whole career basically), has to downsize to a cruddy apartment with obnoxiously loud neighbors (but still gives what little money he has to the homeless), his life is a half-baked disaster.

Then he meets Venom. Big strong guy, very skilled and agile (and yet so gentle sometimes), great teeth (what a smile), superb reflexes, built like a fucking tank (some kind of former soldier, no doubt), follows a mostly raw/paleo diet except when he gets a craving for greasy potato products and chocolate (hey, who doesn’t). Venom’s former boss is trying to tear down Eddie’s apartment complex (and the world it’s attached to), but because Venom takes an instant liking to Eddie, he decides to stand up for his unlucky little boyfriend and save his home from destruction.

Venom is a bit codependent, but he is exactly what Eddie needs in a man right now (or exactly the man Eddie needs in him, hur hur). They have their ups and downs and rough spots and close calls, they break a few laws and barely escape from the bad guys out to arrest them for their prohibited/illegal union (are you feeling me on this forbidden gay romance thing?), but in the end, they save the day and each other, the bond between them grows, their relationship blossoms, and the film ends on a hopeful, happy, humorous note.

If anyone says this wasn’t written to be a romantic dramedy, I will laugh until I die. Seriously. The sexual undertones are so strong. At first it’s almost trying to capitalize on that classic scenario of heterosexual/masculine horror, where a man’s worst fear is being penetrated by a stronger person (typically another male) or even worse, getting impregnated by him. (I read something about that in a glancing article about the psychology of Alien [1979], let me see if I can find it. Ah, I think this was it.)

So Eddie gets violently penetrated by an alien parasi—uh, symbiote—and is forced to carry it around inside him. That’s pretty sexual. (Screenplay tagged: violence, dubcon, mpreggish, stockholm syndrome, enemies to friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending.) But Eddie quickly realizes this thing is making him strong[er] and it can communicate with him and it knows everything about him, even his thoughts (talk about a fast, deep attachment—even human lovers of 50 years haven’t achieved this level of intimacy). When they finally have that long-overdue face-to-face chat, Eddie learns its name is Venom, and then the emotional side of the relationship starts to grow.

It’s like one of those “it was just casual sex until they realized they loved each other” fanfics. They were just sharing a body until they realize this relationship might really be good for both of them. They fall for each other so fast and so hard that the only way the writers could save themselves from the impending bathtub sex scene was to introduce conflict. AKA, the classic Lover’s Quarrel, in which Eddie learns and believes that Venom is just using him [for his organs] and they have a nasty breakup. Literally.

But Anne, now Eddie’s friend and symbiote love ally, helps get them back together with a magical, life-restoring fairy tale kiss. (This moment was a mini climax in the story, a resolution for that terrible break-up scene.)

So Eddie and Venom are good again, two losers now combined to form one big super loser with a snowball’s chance in hell of making it out alive, and they try to stop a Riot and save Eddie’s world. The villain tries to rip them apart again and again, but they stay strong, they stay together until…

They get torn apart at last. Eddie is stabbed through the chest with a massive sword-looking thing and Venom, reduced to a weak, dying blob of creosote, slithers onto Eddie’s outstretched hand and they mutually help each other escape death. Venom has his earth-suit back, Eddie gets healed, and they’re ready for the final battle.

They proceed to rip the rocket apart as it launches and the resulting fire blast burns them apart, and we get that great visual of them trying to stay together through the flames. And then Venom growls tenderly, “Goodbye, Eddie,” and lets go of his man.

“Venom, nooo!” Eddie screams, and plunges into the water.

God, what a powerful scene that was. Seriously, I was hearing Celine Dion belting out My Heart Will Go On. Only instead of a sinking ship, it was an exploding rocket that was wrecking their world.

We’re led to believe that Venom died a hero and Eddie is all sad, even Anne feels bad (“I’m sorry about Venom,” she says softly, as one would express their condolences to someone who just lost their beloved partner), but the writers were only faking us out, psyche adidas! Venom is alive and well and snuggled warmly inside Eddie’s body (and his heart, literally and figuratively), and the movie ends with Eddie and Venom walking down the streets of San Francisco, bodies laced together romantically, to begin their new life together.

…I, uh, don’t know where I was going with this. At this point I’m just spewing glittering rainbow-colored garbage. But I liked Venom a lot. It’s full of delicious subtext and I need to see it again to get a better understanding and deeper interpretation of it all, even if it’s only in my head/dreams. I hope maybe we’ll get a sequel where this great love story is read on the lines instead of between them. 

Haha, who am I kidding, I say to myself bitterly.

Maybe in a perfect world we’ll get a proper monster-loving sequel. But for everything else, there’s fanfiction. ♥