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winchesterwild78 · 5 hours ago

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The Unveiling pt 3

Master list

Characters: Mark Meachum x Reader

Warnings: ****Spoilers Ahead***** if you haven’t seen the first four episodes don’t read this. You have been warned.

Language, Violence, Death, Hope

Catch up on part 1 and 2

A/N: This chapter is a bit of a rollercoaster. Some angst, sadness and a glimmer of hope.

I do not own the rights to this character or any of the characters from the show. I’ve taken creative liberties with the story, but put some elements of the show in the story.

Do not take my work, all work is my own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated.

Minors DNI 18+

"Call him," I whispered, holding Mark tight. "Call Dr. Albright now. Tell him what happened."

He pulled back, his eyes still clouded with pain but now tinged with a flicker of resolve. He grabbed his phone, his fingers fumbling slightly as he dialed. I listened, my heart pounding, as he recounted the explosion, the impact, the sudden, escalating pain. His voice was grim, but he didn't sugarcoat it. After a moment, he nodded, muttering, "Okay. We'll be there."

"He wants us to come in," Mark said, looking at me. "First thing in the morning."

The waiting room felt colder, the fluorescent lights harsher than before. My hand was a clammy vise around Mark's as we finally got called back. Dr. Albright entered, his usually placid demeanor replaced by a noticeable tension. He already had Mark’s recent MRI scans pulled up on the screen.

"Mark, Y/N," he began, his voice clipped. "The good news is, the tumor itself hasn't grown. It's still stable." He zoomed in on a specific area of the scan, a faint discoloration around the main mass. "However, the impact from the explosion clearly aggravated the surrounding tissue. There's significant edema – swelling – in the area adjacent to the tumor. This is likely what's causing the severe increase in your headaches."

My breath hitched. "And what does that mean?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

"It means the headaches are going to be quite bad for the foreseeable future, Mark," Dr. Albright stated, his gaze fixed on the scan. "We can manage the pain with medication, but the swelling will take time to subside. It could be weeks, even months, before you get any significant relief."

"But what about treatment for the tumor itself?" I interjected, pulling out my phone, which was open to a medical journal article I’d spent hours poring over. "I've been reading about focused radiation therapies, like Gamma Knife or CyberKnife. And I found some promising research on specific molecular inhibitors for gliomas of his type, even slow-growing ones. What about those options? Why aren't we exploring them more aggressively?"

Dr. Albright’s posture stiffened. He looked at me, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Mrs.—"

"It's Y/N," I cut in, my voice unwavering.

"Right. Y/N," he continued, his tone sharper. "I understand your concern, but those treatments carry their own significant risks, especially with the tumor's delicate location. As I've explained multiple times, the potential side effects for Mark – cognitive decline, motor impairment, speech issues – could severely impact his quality of life. My primary responsibility is to do no harm, and in this case, aggressive intervention carries more risk than benefit."

"But what about the risk of no intervention?" I retorted, my voice rising. "What about the risk of him living with this constant pain, this ticking bomb, knowing we aren't doing everything we possibly can? If these therapies are showing promise in studies, then why aren't we discussing them seriously?"

He pushed his glasses up his nose, his voice taking on a condescending edge. "With all due respect, Y/N, while I appreciate you doing your 'research,' I am an oncologist with twenty years of experience. I've seen countless cases like Mark's. Trust me when I say I have his best interests at heart. My recommendations are based on extensive clinical knowledge, not on what you might read in a medical journal for researchers, or a popular science book."

My blood ran cold. The dismissive tone, the blatant condescension, ignited a fire within me. He was belittling my desperate search for hope, for a path forward. He was acting like my concerns were an inconvenience, not the cry of a terrified girlfriend.

"No," I stated, standing up, my voice trembling with controlled fury. "No, you don't get to talk to me like that. You don't get to dismiss my fears or my research. Mark has a brain tumor, and he just hit his head, and you're telling him to just live with excruciating pain and not explore every single possibility. That's not good enough." I turned to Mark, my hand going to his arm. "Mark, we're leaving. We need a second opinion. A real one."

Dr. Albright pushed back his chair, rising to his feet, his face flushed. "Now, hold on a minute! I find your behavior highly disrespectful. I am providing the best possible care based on current medical consensus—"

I spun back to him, my voice cutting through his. "Consensus? My boyfriend is a human being, not a statistic! You're telling him to passively wait for something catastrophic to happen, while there are other options, difficult as they may be, that could offer hope. You're dismissive, you're defensive, and frankly, you're not listening to us! So, no, you hold on. We are leaving, and we will find a doctor who is willing to fight for him, and with us, instead of just telling us to give up!"

I grabbed Mark's hand, pulling him gently but firmly. His eyes were wide, a mix of shock and a silent, grateful acknowledgment. He squeezed my hand, a subtle sign of his support, and together, we walked out of the office, leaving a stunned and fuming Dr. Albright behind.

We walked out of Dr. Albright's office, the silence in the hallway a stark contrast to the eruption we'd just left behind. Mark squeezed my hand again, a silent message of gratitude that filled me with a fierce sense of purpose. The immediate adrenaline began to recede, replaced by a quiet determination.

"Home," I said, looking at him, a resolute set to my jaw. "We're going home and we're finding someone better."

The moment we stepped back into our living room, the quiet hum of the house felt different, no longer heavy with unspoken words but charged with a new, shared mission. I immediately pulled out my laptop, pushing aside the old research papers that now seemed inadequate. This time, I wasn't just reading about possibilities; I was hunting for certainties, or at least, for a doctor willing to treat Mark like a person, not a textbook case.

I typed furiously, searching for the best neuro-oncologists in the country. Filters for glioma specialization, cutting-edge treatments, and patient-centered care narrowed the field. One name consistently rose to the top: Dr. Aris Thorne, head of neuro-oncology at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Maryland. The name echoed through my mind. Johns Hopkins—a beacon of medical innovation, a place where impossible cases sometimes found solutions.

"Look," I said, turning the laptop to show Mark the glowing screen. "This is him. Dr. Aris Thorne at Johns Hopkins. Their department is renowned for brain tumors. He's published extensively on gliomas."

Mark peered at the screen, his expression unreadable. "Maryland's a long way," he murmured, the pain from his head still evident in his voice, even if dulled by medication.

"Doesn't matter," I insisted, my voice firm. "Distance means nothing if he's the one who can help you. Or at least, the one who'll give us a real assessment."

I spent the next hour meticulously gathering every medical record, every MRI scan, every lab report, and composing a concise, yet comprehensive, email to Dr. Thorne's office. I poured my heart into the cover letter, explaining Mark's situation, the recent head injury, Dr. Albright's stance, and our desperate need for a second opinion, for hope. I attached all his files and clicked send, watching the little email icon disappear, a prayer whispered into the digital ether.

"Now we wait," I said, leaning back, a tremor running through me despite my outward resolve.

Mark came and sat beside me, putting an arm around my shoulders. "Thank you," he said, his voice soft. "For doing this."

I leaned into him, resting my head on his chest. "We have to see, Mark," I told him, looking up into his eyes, a fierce determination hardening my gaze. "Even if they say the same thing, even if the answer is still no, at least we go down swinging. We fight this, together. Every step of the way."

The rest of Friday stretched into an agonizing limbo. Every email notification, every vibrating phone, sent a jolt of anxious hope through me, only to deflate when it wasn't the one I was desperate for. "It's Friday," I told myself, trying to manage my expectations. "No one's reviewing medical records on a Friday afternoon." But the waiting gnawed at me, a relentless current beneath the surface of my forced calm.

Mark, despite the escalating pain from his head injury, reported to work. He moved with a subtle stiffness, a barely perceptible wince whenever he turned his head too quickly. I knew he had pain medication tucked into his pocket, a silent admission of his suffering. His team, however, was perceptive.

"You okay, Mark?" Amber asked, catching him rubbing his temple during a coffee break. "You've been looking a little... off."

"Just a headache," he'd mumbled, shrugging it off, the practiced dismissiveness of a man used to concealing his true state. "Long night."

Nathan, ever watchful, didn't press, but his gaze lingered, heavy with concern. He knew a "long night" from a genuine problem, and Mark's demeanor screamed the latter.

That afternoon, Mark was tasked with a critical mission: meeting a key prisoner under his old undercover alias. The plan was to exploit his past connections, gather more intelligence on 'The Engineer's' network, and confirm suspicions about a major upcoming shipment. The meeting was set for a secure, off-site location, disguised as a routine transfer.

Mark, still operating with that reckless intensity, walked into the meeting room. The prisoner, a notoriously volatile figure from his past, was already there, flanked by two armed guards. Mark slipped easily back into his undercover persona, the familiar swagger and hardened gaze replacing his internal turmoil. He started working the prisoner, extracting bits and pieces of information.

Then, he saw it. A detail, seemingly innocuous, hidden in plain sight. A specific tattoo on one of the guards, a symbol he recognized not from the criminal underworld, but from the classified briefings he’d just sat through on the secret task force. A symbol linked to the very organization they were trying to dismantle, far beyond mere trafficking. This wasn't just a guard; this was an operative, and the "prisoner" was likely bait. He had stumbled into a setup.

Before he could react, before he could signal, the situation exploded. The prisoner lunged, the guards moved, and the room became a whirlwind of motion. Mark reacted on instinct, drawing his sidearm. Simultaneously, the secure perimeter outside the building was breached. The task force, alerted by Mark’s pre-arranged distress signal (a subtly off-script word during his conversation), descended on the area.

A full-blown gun battle erupted. Shouts, the crack of gunfire, shattering glass – the sounds of chaos ripped through the air. Mark found himself in the thick of it, firing, moving, trying to locate friendly forces while identifying hostiles. Through the smoke and confusion, he saw him: Agent Damon Drew, an older but earnest agent on the team, caught in the direct line of fire. Damon went down, a crimson stain blossoming on his chest.

Mark didn't hesitate. He reached Damon, pulling him to cover, yelling for medics. He applied pressure to the wound, his hands slick with blood, his mind screaming. He rode in the ambulance with Damon, holding his hand, urging him to stay with him, the sirens wailing a desperate lament.

Hours later, the sterile waiting room of the hospital was a stark contrast to the violence they had just escaped. Nathan, Amber, and a few other agents sat in grim silence, their faces etched with anxiety. Mark paced, the throbbing in his head a relentless drumbeat, each beat echoing his growing guilt.

Finally, the surgeon emerged, his scrubs still stained, his face drawn. He looked at them, then specifically at Mark and Nathan. "We did everything we could," he began, his voice heavy. "He lost too much blood. The damage was too extensive. Agent Drew... he died on the table."

The words hung in the air, cold and definitive. Mark felt the bottom drop out of his world. Damon. A good man, and he had just lost his son. And Mark had been the one who led him into this, whose recklessness, whose mission, had put him in the crossfire. The guilt was a physical weight, pressing down on his chest, suffocating him. His head throbbed with an intensity that threatened to shatter his skull, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the agony of knowing Damon was gone, and he was still here.

The weight of Damon Drew's death pressed on Mark like a physical burden. Guilt, sharp and relentless, gnawed at him, eclipsing even the throbbing in his head. He replayed the gun battle endlessly, searching for a moment, a decision, anything he could have done differently to save the agent.

A few days later, Nathan called the team together. His face was somber, but his voice held a quiet strength. "Damon's widow, Cora, has agreed to come in and speak with us," he announced, his gaze sweeping over the grim faces of the agents. "She wants to thank you all."

The air in the briefing room was thick with unspoken grief and shared responsibility when Cora Drew walked in. She was younger than Mark expected, her eyes red-rimmed but clear, her posture surprisingly composed. She looked at each of them, her gaze lingering on Mark for a moment before she began to speak.

"I know you all feel this," she said, her voice steady, though a tremor ran through it. "The guilt. The 'what ifs.' But I need you to know something. Damon… he loved this job. He believed in what you all do. He believed in protecting people, in making a difference." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "He died doing what he loved. He died protecting his country. Please, don't let his memory be burdened by your guilt. Honor him by continuing the fight."

Her words, intended to offer solace, twisted the knife in Mark's gut. He died doing what he loved. Mark met her eyes across the room, a silent, sorrowful apology passing between them. He saw her pain, her strength, and the profound loss that mirrored his own burgeoning fear. Damon had died, and Mark was still here, with a ticking bomb in his head, and a reckless drive to keep fighting.

Meanwhile, back home, the anxious waiting for news from Johns Hopkins had been a constant, low hum beneath the surface of my grief for Damon. Every time my phone buzzed, my heart leaped. On Tuesday morning, it finally happened. An email, with the Johns Hopkins logo prominently displayed. My hands trembled as I opened it.

The subject line read: "Regarding Mr. Mark Meachum – Patient Acceptance."

My breath hitched. I scanned the first few lines, my eyes blurring with tears of relief and a renewed surge of hope. They had reviewed his records. They had discussed his case. And they were willing to take him on as a patient. They wanted to schedule an initial consultation, a comprehensive evaluation, to explore all potential treatment options.

I immediately called Mark, my voice choked with emotion. "Mark," I managed, tears streaming down my face, "It's Johns Hopkins. They said yes. They're taking you on."

The line was silent for a moment, then I heard his ragged breath. "They... they did?" His voice was raw, disbelieving.

"Yes," I confirmed, a sob escaping me. "We're going, Mark. We're going to Maryland. We're going to fight this."

The news, arriving amidst the heavy cloud of Damon's death, was a lifeline. A glimmer of light in the overwhelming darkness. It was a chance, a tangible step forward, a reason to believe that the promises we had made to each other, to live and love, might actually have a fighting chance.

Mark walked into Nathan's office, the weight of Damon's death still heavy on his shoulders, but now intertwined with a fragile thread of hope. "Nathan," he began, his voice firmer than it had been in days. "I need a few days off. Family emergency."

Nathan leaned back in his chair, his gaze sharp and knowing. He studied Mark's face, the faint shadows under his eyes, the residual tension in his jaw, despite the newfound glint of determination. He saw through the "family emergency" excuse, recognizing the profound shift in Mark's demeanor. He knew it was deeper than the immediate grief for Damon, sensing the underlying turmoil that had plagued Mark since his return.

"A few days?" Nathan asked, his voice low, but without accusation. "In the middle of this? After... after what happened with Drew?"

"Yes," Mark replied, meeting his gaze squarely. "It's critical. I wouldn't ask otherwise."

Nathan sighed, running a hand over his tired face. "Alright, Mark. I'll cover for you. We're stretched thin, but you're no good to us if you're not fully present." He paused, his expression serious. "But know this, Mark. When you come back, I expect you to tell me what's going on. All of it. We're a team, and I'm your friend. You can't keep carrying everything yourself."

Mark nodded, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "I will, Nathan. Thank you."

He turned and left, a sense of urgency propelling him.

The flight to Maryland was a mixture of nervous anticipation and a fragile, burgeoning hope. I held Mark's hand almost constantly, occasionally squeezing it, a silent promise that we were in this together. The thought of Johns Hopkins, a place of medical miracles, filled my heart and soul with a hope so potent it almost brought tears to my eyes.

We arrived at the sprawling medical complex, a stark contrast to Dr. Albright's small, dismissive office. The atmosphere was different immediately. The staff were kind, compassionate, and efficient. They guided us through the intake process with a quiet respect that was a balm to our frayed nerves.

Finally, we were ushered into an examination room, and Dr. Aris Thorne entered. He was everything Dr. Albright wasn't: calm, attentive, and genuinely empathetic. He spent a full hour just talking to Mark, listening to his history, the details of the explosion, the escalating pain, and even the emotional toll of his job. He then reviewed Mark's existing records with a meticulous eye, often murmuring notes to himself.

"Based on these initial scans, Detective Meachum, the swelling is indeed significant, as your local doctor noted," Dr. Thorne explained, pointing to the familiar images on a larger screen. "It's putting pressure on the surrounding brain tissue, which accounts for the intensified headaches."

But unlike Dr. Albright, he didn't stop there. "However," he continued, "we'd like to order a new battery of tests. We have some advanced imaging techniques here, including specific MRI sequences and functional MRIs, that can give us a much more detailed picture of the tumor's exact boundaries, its metabolic activity, and its relationship to critical brain functions. Sometimes, a different angle, a more granular look, can reveal possibilities that weren't apparent before."

The next day was a whirlwind of tests. Mark endured scans, blood draws, and neurological assessments, his stoicism barely wavering. I stayed by his side through it all, offering quiet encouragement, a constant reminder that he wasn't alone.

Then came the follow-up meeting with Dr. Thorne. He sat us down, his expression serious but also, for the first time, held a glimmer of hope.

"Mark, Y/N," he began, looking from one of us to the other. "We've reviewed all the new imaging. And while the situation is undoubtedly complex given the tumor's location near the brainstem, we believe we do have a treatment plan."

My breath hitched. Mark's hand, resting on his knee, clenched into a fist.

"It's aggressive, and it carries risks, as any intervention in this area would," Dr. Thorne continued, his voice steady. "But our team believes that a very targeted approach, using stereotactic radiosurgery, specifically Gamma Knife, could be a viable option. It allows for extremely precise radiation delivery, minimizing damage to surrounding healthy tissue. We'd follow that with a low-dose, highly personalized chemotherapy regimen designed to prevent recurrence and manage any remaining microscopic cells. It won't be easy. The side effects will be challenging, and recovery will be a long road. But we believe it offers the best chance for long-term remission and to alleviate the pressure causing these debilitating headaches."

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "We believe we can fight this, Mark. And win."

Mark's grip on my hand tightened, a squeeze that conveyed a torrent of unspoken emotion. His eyes, which had held a silent, weary resignation for so long, now flickered with a raw, undeniable hope. "How soon?" he asked, his voice a low, urgent whisper directed at Dr. Thorne. "How soon can we start?"

My own hope, which had been a fragile bud since the initial email, now bloomed fully in my chest, a warm, overwhelming flood. But amidst the relief, my practical side kicked in. This was a plan, but not a guaranteed cure.

"Dr. Thorne," I began, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. "What are the risks of this stereotactic radiosurgery? And if it works... what's the prognosis? What does 'long-term remission' truly mean for Mark?"

Dr. Thorne nodded, his expression acknowledging our profound relief while maintaining his professional composure. "Let's be clear, this is still a serious procedure. The risks, while significantly reduced compared to traditional surgery, include temporary brain swelling which could worsen the headaches initially, fatigue, and in rare cases, more severe neurological deficits depending on the precise area. That's why the pre-operative imaging is so crucial – to map everything down to the millimeter and minimize these risks."

He paused, looking directly at Mark, then at me. "As for prognosis, 'long-term remission' means precisely what it sounds like: the goal is to significantly shrink the tumor and, ideally, eliminate its activity. This isn't a cure in the sense of completely eradicating every single rogue cell, but it aims to render the glioma inactive and harmless, preventing its growth and the pressure it exerts. Many patients achieve excellent quality of life post-treatment, with a vastly reduced risk of recurrence. We'll monitor you closely with regular MRI scans, but the aim is for you to live a full, normal life, free from the constant threat of this tumor."

A quiet, almost reverent silence fell over the room. "A full, normal life." The words hung in the air, a future we had barely dared to dream of since the initial diagnosis. Mark squeezed my hand again, this time with a joyful force, his eyes meeting mine, reflecting the bright, blossoming hope that now filled us both.

Part 4

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#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #mark meachum x reader #mark meachum

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808airsoftbros · 3 hours ago

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AIDOL University

Author: Welp, here's the second episode of this series! If you want to stay up to date, please follow and like. Sharing is also greatly appreciated. If you'd like to see more of my content, you can check out the Masterlist page.

~~~

Episode II: The Man Who Speaks in Hands

Y/N's POV

Walking amongst the facade of AIDOL University, the place was not only littered with a diverese species of the supernatural but also with wisdom, privilege, and luxury.

The students here are centuries old with years of experience and wisdom under their belts. It doesn't make this school less imposing, as most of them are rich and come from lineages of high-class families.

Let's be honest, the reason why a guy, let alone a human, is allowed to come here is because of my sister. Her mother birthed both of us, yet somehow I remain human.

Why? I don't even know the answer to that, but what I do know is that when I grew older, I learned that I had God-like powers.

Nobody knows about it yet, not even Wonyoung or my parents... At least not to the fullest extent.

"Well, brother, this is where we must part ways for now. Are you sure you can handle yourself?" She asked me in a concerned tone.

"Yeah, I think I can figure it out myself," I assured her and she sighed.

"Alright, suit yourself," She replied as she walked to her class.

Turning around to see the campus map posted on the large board, I looked over my schedule, seeing that my first class is Calculus III, I head over to the math department building.

Inside the building, students were all wearing luxury clothing and expensive jewelry, some of them were vintage, most of them eyed me silently with a curious expression.

I can tell some of them, the Vampires and Kitsunes are trying to dig into my mind to see what secrets I hide, but to no avail, as my mind is naturally impenetrable to telepathy.

"That's so weird... I can't read this boy's mind..."

"Yeah... It's not like he's really human... But is he...?"

"Hm. Closed off, much?"

Ignoring their whispers as I walked past them, I went to what's supposedly the elevator, but it's just an empty shaft that only those with wings and floating capabilities can fly up through.

"Sorry, new kid, you're gonna have to go up the stairs. A little exercise doesn't hurt much, does it~?" One of the Demons jokingly said before ascending up the shaft.

"Too bad you don't have any magical powers." A mermaid mentioned before jumping in the waterfall swimming upwards.

Welp. Guess it's time to take one of my 'shortcuts' once again. I walked to the end of the corridor and I found myself in the third floor where I need to be.

"Huh?! How did you get here so fast?!" The mermaid asked her eyes widened in surprise and I shrugged.

"Just took a shortcut," I answered.

Walking past her, I head to the classroom on my schedule. I looked at the number 312, I opened the door, and walked into the classroom to see a pretigeous professor who looked like a Kitsune.

"Ah, konichiwa, you must be the new student! Interesting, I've never seen a male student, let alone a human, attend this privileged university. No matter, please have a seat in the freshmen area over there." The professor said as she pointed to the sign.

The seats looked sad as hell, clearly, the freshmen get the lowest quality seats. There was rust all over the metal surface and the chair along with the desk attatched was creaking.

The desk looked like it was ready to be dumped compared to the upper-classmen seating, which looked new and actually safe to sit on during the lecture.

"Sorry, as you can see, freshmen get the lowest bottom-of-the-barrel equipment here, and not to mention, they won't be as prioritized as the older students. Please keep this in mind," She explained and I shrugged.

"Fine with me," I shrugged and she nodded.

As soon as the rest of the students walked in the class, the girls eyed me curiously and some mocking about how I have to sit in the shitty desks but I paid no mind.

"Ahem. Okay, class, please be quiet as today's lecture is now in session! I am Professor Miyawaki Sakura, I expect nothing but the best from all of you, and anyone who slacks off will be kicked out of the course. Am I clear?" She announced in a stern tone.

"Yes, professor!" The class acknowledged.

"Good. Anyway, for those who are wondering why a human is here today, he is going to be the first male student and human to ever attend the prestigious AIDOL University. Now, let us not waste any more time." She finished announcing and started the lecture.

Sakura hands out the assignment worksheets and we took notes as Sakura showed the first equations we have to understand, the shit about finding the X and Y by using complicated formulas.

But none of this was a problem for me, oh, and if you think I'm sane enough to sit on those broken-down desks, I'd just improvised using my telekenisis magic to hold the structure long enough so it doesn't collapse on me.

"Alright, now I want you all to try to solve the equations on the sheet and you can reference the example problems I've shown on the board." Sakura instructed.

Using the formulas given by the board, all of the problems were just baby bones. Find the coordinates of x, y, r? Pft. Give me a real challenge.

Sakura eyed us all but seeing if I needed the help yet I didn't raise my hand once making her raise an eyebrow in curiousity.

Looking at the upper-classmen, they seemed to be struggling yet I was calm and collected.

"Y/N, is it? How are you doing?" She checked on me.

"Fine, you should probably check on them," I answered with a hint of amusement.

"Is that so?" Sakura scoffed at my dry humor before taking the worksheet from my desk and looking it over.

Sakura delicately looked over each and every step, making sure every place and number was correct. Her eyes widened in begrudging respect as she sighed.

"Well, I'll be damned, you solved every one of them so quickly and without my help either... I hate to say it but I am impressed but don't get cocky... This is only the tip of the iceberg," She warned me as she walked away to tend to the other students who were struggling.

I laid back with my hands on the back of my head with a grin on my face as I knew I got into her skin even if she doesn't want to admit it.

"Pst. Hey~! New kid~!" I heard a voice calling me and I opened my left eye, looking over to see a short-haired sassy Vampire eyeing me mischievously.

"Watsup?" I asked her.

"So, you're the new student? The one Wonyoung mentioned, I say you're quite not as I expect..." She mentioned.

"Hm. Did you expect me to dress up in designer clothes and be a Vampire?" I asked her and she chuckled.

"Sort of, but what's even more strange is that I can't seem to read what's going on in that pretty little head of yours~. It's like a labyrinth in there... Normally, that only happens when that someone is simple-minded, yet you aren't exactly dumb either, so what gives?" She asked me curiously, and I shrugged.

"Good question," I answered.

"Well, since you have so far proved to be gifted than most humans, I believe personally you should have no issues rising up the ranks in the hierarchy and you won't be sitting on the bottom of the barrel for longer than you need to. Believe me, it's not pleasant," She explained and I raise an eyebrow.

"What makes you think I want to be part of the cool kids club?" I asked her and she laughed amusingly.

"Really? First off, it's called the AIDOL Royalty Lineage, and humans would do anything to get in that position, let alone be in your position right now. If you move up there, you will have more opportunities and privileges that the University offers, better food, and you get a better chance to interact with the royal highnesses themselves. I can go on all day, so you might wanna consider it," She suggested.

"And the Queen? The Queen of the Vampire Sisterhood... She's... Well... A big, fluffy pushover! Everyone loves her! And if you're up in the royal lineage with your sister, she'll grant you any favor you ask, access to the vault, working in the higher desired jobs within the University, all that good stuff. You're also a science major, right? Having access to the labs will be a huge help," She explained to me, and I raised an eyebrow, quite intrigued with having access to the labs, which will definitely help my research.

"Sounds cool. By the way, I never got your name," I pointed out and she laughed at herself.

"Oh, how silly of me~! How rude of me to forget to introduce myself, forgive me, I do get excited as new students are rare these days. I'm Lady Kim Chaewon, Alpha Vampire of Clan Le Sserafim. My duties are to report directly to the Princess herself. And you are Jang Y/N, Gaeul told me much about you," She introduced herself.

"Neat. Nice to meet you too," I replied, shaking hands with her.

After the lecture was over, I moved on to the next class, which was all science courses on the magics of soul traits, biology, and chemistry. All of those classes are my specialty as my mother whom I hardly see is a scientists who studies souls.

Heading over to the science building, the students were putting on their lab coats. A fellow fairy assistant pointed me to my locker. Surprisingly, my locker was actually brand new, and the coat inside was also new.

"Surprise. Science majors who are freshmen actually get brand new equipment. We don't want any safety hazards, do we?" She asked me with a cheeky grin.

"Hm. Fair enough," I answered.

Proceeding to the lab class, I was met with a stern-looking professor, her beauty is breathtaking, standing tall in a pencil skirt, wearing black stockings, and black high heels.

"Ah, I see a human has come into my lab, are you a test subject?" She asked me looking me over head to toe.

"Nope, I'm a freshmen, it's my first day here," I answered her and she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, right, I recalled I was informed that a male student was joining my class this year, you're not the first human to come here, and none of them had lasted... I wonder how long it will be until you inevitably drop out," She remarked with a wicked smirk as she leaned against her desk.

"I am Professor Kim Jisoo, also Vampire Alpha of clan Blackpink, and I am the head director of the science programs. I have high expectations for each of my students, and you being human doesn't make any difference, so I suggest you be on your A game or quit wasting your time and leave. I'll keep a close eye on you," She introduced herself before warning me.

"Of course, I'll do my very best to meet your standards," I replied, and she grinned as she watched me take a seat at one of the stations.

As the rest of the students showed up to the lecture, Jisoo began introducing the basics of soul traits and their unique abilities they possess.

Looking at the chart presented at the board, there are a total of seven different traits of souls discovered so far. Kindness, Perserverance, Justice, Patience, Integrity, and Bravery. All of them each with their unique abilities still being studied in the battle arena.

However... There was one rare and elusive trait... Determination...

"As you all may know, Determination is theorized as the most powerful trait out of all six; only a handful in this world possess such determination in their souls that can convert into magical attacks and are difficult to take down. Determination has no weaknesses as far as we've observed..." Jisoo explained as she went over the PowerPoint presentation.

Most of us were bored out of our minds, as I can see some already know about this including myself as a being that is able to possess all seven traits including Determination and yeah, that stuff is no joke.

"As far as legends speak, only one being was able to possess all seven traits... Whose name we do not know... All we know is that he is the man who speaks in hands. According to the last entry, when the man faced Eve, our creator, his physical body was destroyed, but his soul lived on to carry a vessel. We do not know who this vessel is or if they're human or not. That's all we know," She finished explaining the tale of the lost former royal scientists.

Hm. If only they knew I was sitting right here in the same room, but it's best if I keep my identity a secret so as to not cause any complications for me.

The only reason why I can live as long as Wonyoung has is because of the unique soul I possess; I am one with the royal scientists.

"Right class, that will be all for today. As for freshmen, make sure you report to the battle arena at precisely 1400 hours; there is an orientation being hosted for those who are new," She announced, and we got up from our chairs and left the classroom.

Walking into the courtyard of the school, most of the students were heading home except for the freshmen who are going into the battle arena as told.

Wonyoung was nowhere to be found, likely joining her members in the student council in the castle, leaving me on my own for now. Oh well, guess it's only me yet again.

Anyway, I head into the battle arena, inside, the place was massive as expected, there was a sky area, a pool simulating the ocean, a metropolitan city, and just the plain old training grounds where dummies are set up and such.

Guided to sit down on the bleachers with the rest of the new students, again, they were all surprised to see a human here as they expected to be all monsters.

"May I have your attention, please! Welcome, freshmen, to AIDOL Academy. I am your host and representative of Queen Lee Jieun, who regrettably cannot make it today. I am Shin Ryujin, Senior, and Captain of the Royal Guard! Here, we expect nothing but the best from each of you! The Queen will not tolerate slackers, and those who fail to meet the standards will be expelled. There are tutoring resources at your disposal, but those are mainly reserved for the more... Privileged students. We expect the freshmen who climb up the ranks of the lineage line, and I promise you all it will be well worth your while." Ryujin explained the rules and there was gasps along with whispers.

Damn, this place is really hell on Earth. It's clear their intolerance of incompetence is well-known, but I have no worries. This school thing is a piece of cake. Like taking candy from baby bones.

Another regal student stepped forward, her angelic wings concealed behind her back, she had an angelic expression as she held her scabbard on her right hip.

"For today's special event, you will all get an opportunity to challenge Shin Ryujin! We will select five of you! Those who come victorious over her will automatically move up to the top of the AIDOL Royal Lineage! But be wary, that Ryujin is a Vampire you do not want to cross if you are not prepared so be wise in entering the challenge," The angel explained and Ryujin scoffed.

"Oh, please, if they're wise enough, no hand should be raised if they know what's good for them," She laughed, and the angel playfully rolled her eyes.

As expected, almost nobody in the bleachers volunteered willingly except for a few, but with only two left to pick from, Ryujin and the Angel eyed the bleachers with their observing eyes.

"Hmm... Well, look what we have here! A human! How brave of you to come here! We hardly see your kind here in our prestigious school!" Ryujin pointed out and I sighed.

Ryujin ordered me to come forward, and I stood up as I walked down the bleachers to join her on the stadium ground. She had a wicked grin, her predatory gaze, she summoned her magical spear, and got into a stance.

Checking Status... Shin Ryujin - The heroine Vampire of the Royal Guard that never gives up. Attack: 600 Defense: 125

Damn, it's no question why she's the Captain of the Royal Guard. She's fucking strong and all that shit talk is no bluff but I've faced opponents like her many times in my many judgments.

The Angel gave me a rather pitiful look as she figures I stand no chance against a powerful Vampire like Ryujin.

"Ready? I'll give you the honors, hit me with your best shot!" She demanded.

Instead of delivering the first attack, I stood there doing nothing like I always do making Ryujin raise an eyebrow wondering what I was planning.

"Huh?! Why aren't you attacking?! Are you that scared of me?" She asked me in a mocking tone as she got ready to charge, but I still didn't move an inch.

"Fine! If you won't attack, I will!" She barked as she charged at me at insane human speed.

Jumping high in the air with her spear, she let out a loud battle cry as she came descending down at me at a terrifying speed but I stood there with a blank expression.

At the last possible moment, I used my teleportation powers to avoid the attack, and a cloud of debris showered the stadium, as the clouds cleared, Ryujin grinned expecting a beaten pulp but instead I was in another position completely unharmed.

"H-How did you...?" She stammared at a loss of words and I chuckled.

"Look down..." I warned her and when she did it was too late.

Suddenly, a large bone emerged from the ground, sending Ryujin flying in the air and crashing against the protective force field. Everyone was shocked including the angel observing as Ryujin hardly takes any hits like that before.

Ryujin crashed down on the ground, she groaned as she got back on her feet as she summoned another spear into her hand.

"Hm. Not bad for a human, but what can you do against this?" Ryujin grinned as she snapped her fingers summoning a huge volley of spears that illuminated the stadium in a shaded hue of blue.

Pointing her finger, she sends the wave of magical blue spears flying towards me with deadly speed and you can hear the howl of the wind echoing in the distance.

Snapping my fingers, I summoned my own wave of bone attacks. I sent them to intercept the spears, all of the bones shattered the spears on contact with sheer accuracy that leaves no error of calculation.

"Pft. Is that all you got? If there's some sort of punchline, please do fill me in because I don't get it," I replied with a grin and I can hear the seething of fustration coming from Ryujin.

"Well... In that case, it's my turn now." I said as I snapped my fingers, as I teleported out of thin air.

*Megalovania Intensifies*

"Let's see how good your spears are against these..." I remarked with a grin.

Ryujin's eyes widened in awe and terror as she had likely never seen anything like it. A human with such magical powers comparable to God himself.

Unleashing my powerful Gaster blaster's attack, firing a giant laser that will destroy everything unfortunate in its path, Ryujin using her soul's trait summons a green protective shield but it did little to protect her from the blast.

A massive explosion occurred, rocking the protective force field, the magical generators overclocking to contain the shockwave of the blast.

When the dust settled, Ryujin was laid to waste; she was beaten to a pulp as she lay on the ruined floor.

The angel ran over to her, checking up on her; she was, of course, alive, thankfully. Ryujin slowly stood up as the angel used her healing powers to heal her wounds.

"It would appear, I am for once beaten... As much as I hate to say this... I yield," Ryujin forfeited.

With that the battle is officially over, I teleported myself back to the ground, as the gaster blasters disappeared, it was clear that not only I had become victorious but I absolutely obliterated her.

I didn't suffer a single scratch or injury on my body, and I merely used a small fraction of my magical powers, which leaves those curious as to what I'm truly capable of... But only I would know. Would I?

#kpop #kpop idol #kpop gg #bxg #x male reader #kpopidol #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #undertale #magic #fantasy #supernatural #mystery #undertale gaster #gaster #wd gaster #le sserafim #le sserafim sakura #miyawaki sakura

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betty-fran · 8 hours ago

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I think the main problem with any sequels/prequels/reboots/adaptations/etc. is that they don't just rework the text of the original, they rework its perception. You can stay as close to the original as possible, but completely twist the very idea of the work (which, for example, happened with Tarkovsky's adaptation of Lem's Solaris). Honestly, I've rarely come across really good adaptations. Post-TOS films start with the words based on Star Trek because it's still an interpretation, one way or another, and the filmmakers are well aware of this. But it seems to me that this understanding is lost outside the fandom (and sometimes even within the fandom itself) because Star Trek is positioned as a franchise, and the events of the films are perceived as a continuation of the original series. That is, for me, for example, as a person who only watched AOS during my university years (and before that I only heard about Star Trek in The Big Bang Theory), and who even from fanfiction had an idea about "one way or another, the events of the series lead to the events of the films", TOS became an absolute revelation.

Unfortunately, my generation on forward mostly got to know the characters first from the movies. TOS was a little dated and slow paced, but the movies hold up better for a younger audience, so a lot more of us watched those first.

It's really interesting to know. I had a slightly different situation considering the conditions in which I grew up. I'm pretty sure TOS wasn't shown in the Soviet Union; the films might have been shown after the collapse in 90s, but my parents never watched them, and I also don't remember them from my childhood... It's actually hard for me to say that Star Trek was ever really popular in the post-Soviet space, well, in Ukraine anyway, among my (mostly artistic/literary/cultural) circle in which I grew up, were popular Star Wars, or Marvel, or LOTR, or HP (in my childhood) but not ST, and even AOS I watched completely by accident years after Beyond was released. So I watched TOS for the first time only this spring, and watching the films now, they really feel fundamentally different from the original.

TMP and TWOK, besides being very bad at reading the characters, are firstly poorly filmed, and because I'm a production designer (by education), it's kind of painful to watch. So I'm pretty critical of them (but I don't want to offend anyone who likes them, they're still quite romantic, and I find it charming). I really like The Search for Spock and The Voyage Home (we finally watched them with my sister). And Nimoy was an objectively good director, I would be really interested to see how he would have directed the first two films if he had the chance. That is, these are still separate things from TOS, but they are good.

I completely agree that TOS Kirk would never accept the admiral's position and lock himself up like that in an office on Earth; it completely contradicts his very essence, and since it makes up the main plot of the films, it makes them so "out of character" in the first place. And I completely agree about Spock, and that his reset as a character deserves a separate post (it's obviously harder for me to write about him), I also believe that TOS Spock, after all the development of his character throughout the series, after season 3 and especially Turnabout Intruder, would never have decided to leave Jim and go to Kolinahr. And although this is generally explained by "he was scared of the power of his own feelings etc. something happened between him and Jim etc.", but this actually contradicts TOS, so it's perceived as some kind of absolute alternative branch of events. And Spock actually experiences more than one reset as a character, because after seemingly accepting his own feelings in TMP, he is again quite constrained in TWOK, and then he dies and loses his memory, and oh my god, it's so in the style of those 80s melodramas, Idk. Therefore, all this is really very difficult to perceive in connection with TOS.

But when I write TOS fic, I write within a canon that ends with Turnabout Intruder.

And I especially, especially agree with this.

Thank you very much for your reply, it's always very interesting to read what you write!

Being in the process of watching post-TOS films right now, and having rather mixed feelings about it, there is something that probably surprises me the most about all of this. We talk a lot about AOS Kirk and even SNW Kirk (which Paramount tries to show us as the canon young Kirk) as being non-TOS-canon, very different readings of Kirk as a character, but we never really talk about the fact that Film!Kirk is an equally non-TOS-canon reading of the character.

ETA: this is going to be a very long post that I wanted to finish earlier, but my latest meltdown obviously didn't let me finish anything I had planned this week.

[there will be a bit of film criticism now, you can skip that right away and move on to criticizing Kirk's characterization… this really sounds bad, but don't get me wrong, I like post-TOS films, but they're so damn different and I want to talk about it]

The post-TOS films certainly lose all the noir and theatricality of TOS, all its épater la bourgeoisie, this legacy of old cinema (TOS, strangely enough, is completely a child of the golden age of Hollywod, and is much closer to "Casablanca" than to "Star Wars") by completely projecting itself into science fiction (which, to be honest, was the last thing TOS did at all, like they flew in space, of course, but it was such an obviously special transcendent type of space, where you would rather meet Socrates than Xenomorph) and outright militarism.

Perhaps the most shocking moment in "The Motion Picture", and my personal point of no return in the sequels, was one of the opening scenes in the Enterprise's transporter room. The ship wasn't ready to leave yet, and the transporter wasn't working properly, but two crew members were sent out of the Starfleet transporter room, and they… just died in the process (why?). This wasn't negligence on the part of the ship or the crew; it was clearly blatant negligence on the part of Starfleet, and it was presented so quickly and dryly as if it were a fairly routine situation for everyone. They were a little upset, shook their heads, and went off to more pressing matters. It was an absolutely unnecessary scene for the plot (the only thing it affects is the appearance of a vacant science officer position on the ship, which, like, could’ve been vacant anyway? these scene is generally never mentioned again, you could just not add it at all), meaningless and cruel in its absurdity, which perfectly highlights the changes in the approach to the display of violence between the 60s and 80s.

[Enterprise transporter room] RAND: Do you read me Starfleet? Override us. Pull them back! STARFLEET [OC]: Unable to receive their pattern, Enterprise. KIRK: Give it to me. Starfleet, boost your matter gain, we need more signal! ...More signal! SCOTT: We're losing their pattern. RAND: Oh, no! They're forming! WOMAN: (a scream) SONAK: (a moan) KIRK: Starfleet, do you have them? STARFLEET [OC]: Enterprise, ...what we got back didn't live long, ...fortunately. KIRK: Starfleet, ...Kirk. Please ...express my condolences to their families. Commander Sonak's can be reached through the Vulcan Embassy. There was nothing you could have done, Rand. It wasn't your fault.

All of these things were the result, in political and cultural changes, the growth of noticeable gloom in science fiction, and mostly changes that the film industry experienced after the 1960s (the rapid development of technology, the expansion of the audience, and the attempt to move away from the theatrical relic of the past to spectacular films) and in the sequels this is felt not only in the script, which emphasizes dynamic scenes and is much more simplified in literary terms, but also in the acting, which is already much more static and tied to the camera (the acting is one of the reasons why TMP is so difficult to watch, apart from the frankly weak direction and editing, and despite the pretty good [still very Roddenberry-esque with all this love is a touch but not a touch] plot, which is quite funny, because the fact that this is happening against the background of the character of Ilia, who really plays a non-human /a body/ that uses a computer, doesn’tt improve the situation in any way, because none of the actors look noticeably more alive than her, and the only glimpse of emotion in the entire film is the scenes between K/S, which is of course very sweet, but…).

First of all, this concerns Shatner, who is actually a very good theatrical actor (and criticism of his performance in TOS is completely incomprehensible to me). Where he is absolutely alive, natural, and sincere in the noir, theatrical TOS, he is exhausted, stiff, and (I'll be honest) repulsively arrogant in the films’ blockbusterness and their efforts to be dramatic. I partly attribute this to the fact that, like me, he is completely unsuited to dark hair and it turns our lives into a Nietzschean abyss, but more likely the combination of his ego and inability to realize himself played a bad joke on him, and he lost something real, really important in the pursuit of attention. But that's why the K/S interaction scenes in the films (and all the Kirk scenes that involve Spock in any way) are so surprising to me, because they're the only scenes where Shatner suddenly sheds all of his ego, arrogance, and discontent, becoming again... sweet, alive, and natural in his acting, and sincere in his absolute admiration and warm love for the one important person in Kirk's life, and it's such a contrast to his acting at other times that I'm just, I don't know, Bill, what are you doing? He just sees Spock, and bang, he becomes a completely different person. In any case, Shatner's changes and internal conflicts have their impact on the character's formation and perception in the films, but they are only part of the bigger picture.

[end of films criticism, let's move on]

"The Motion Picture", our ground zero in Kirk drift, generally sets this emphasized masculine tone in Kirk's portrayal from the very beginning, clearly departing from both his gender-ambivalence and his noir femme fatale, and becoming quite constrained even in his nature of utopian humanism. In my conversation with my sister, I joked that it was quite funny that they were trying to convince us that TOS Kirk, who had survived genocide (famine, mass murder, psychological/physical abuse, and clearly read SA) at 13, and then went through a mass massacre on a ship he served in his 20s, for which he blamed himself, had become this in a few years of paperwork. The midlife crisis had apparently erased even his traumatic experiences. I generally understand the idea they were trying to show - a real captain who is tired on solid ground and more than anything in the world wants to return to space, and even more - to his ship, the only place where he was truly happy + (this is of course not so obvious, but it's damn visible in Shatner's acting and in subsequent K/S scenes) this existing gap between him and Spock is a tangible trauma and Spock's absence in his life breaks him to pieces. But, even with this idea of growing up/(literally) returning from heaven to earth, Kirk's behavior in TMP frankly doesn't align well with his characterization in TOS.

We see several consecutive scenes of his conflict with Decker, the acting captain of the Enterprise, whom he removes from his post by order of Starfleet, and although Decker himself is a rather static character, in whose development not much effort was put, in all these scenes, he is clearly... right.

KIRK: I'm taking over the center seat, Will. DECKER: You're what? KIRK: I'm replacing you as Captain of the Enterprise. You'll stay on as Executive Officer. Temporary grade reduction to Commander. DECKER: You personally, are assuming command? KIRK: Yeah. DECKER: May I ask? Why? KIRK: My experience, five years out there dealing with unknowns like this, my familiarity with the Enterprise, this crew. DECKER: Admiral, this is an almost totally new Enterprise. You don't know her a tenth as well as I do. KIRK: That's why you're staying aboard. I'm sorry, DECKER: No, Admiral. I don't think you are, not one damn bit. I remember when you recommended me for this command. You told me how envious you were, and how much you hoped you'd find a way to get a starship command again. Well, it looks like you found a way.

KIRK: All right, explanation? Why was my phaser order countermanded? DECKER: Sir, the Enterprise redesign increases phaser power by channelling it through the main engines. When they went into anti-matter imbalance, the phasers were automatically cut off. KIRK: Then you acted properly, of course. DECKER: Thank you, sir. ...I'm sorry if I embarrassed you. KIRK: You saved the ship. DECKER: I'm aware of that, sir. KIRK: Stop ...competing with me, Decker! DECKER: Permission to speak freely, sir? KIRK: Granted. DECKER: Sir, you haven't logged a single star hour in two and a half years. That, plus your unfamiliarity with the ship's redesign, in my opinion, sir, seriously jeopardises this mission.

We are also given an emphasis on how Kirk puts pressure on his crew:

KIRK: Programming ready? DECKER: Programme set for standard warp entry, Captain, ...but I still recommend further simulation study. KIRK: Mister Decker, every minute brings that object closer to Earth! Engineering! Stand by for warp drive. SCOTT (on intercom): We need further warp simulation on the flow sensors. KIRK: Engineer, we need warp speed now! McCOY: Jim, you're pushing. Your people know their jobs.

It's not that he's never done it before, but there's a literally physically palpable difference in how and when it happened in TOS and how it happens in TMP, and how truly unjustified (apart from wanting to seem significant and controlling again) Kirk's behavior in TMP is.

He also, not particularly justified, takes a risk by allowing that weird electric thing onto the bridge, which leads to further tragic events.

KIRK: Mister Decker? DECKER: I advise caution, Captain, we can't withstand another attack. KIRK: That thing is twenty hours away from Earth. We know nothing about it yet. DECKER: That's precisely the point. We don't know it will do. Moving into that Cloud, at this time, is an unwarranted gamble. KIRK: How do you define 'unwarranted'? DECKER: You asked my opinion, sir. ... DECKER: Ilia! ...Ilia! (the probe with Ilia disappears) DECKER: This is how I define unwarranted!

In fact, this whole Kirk vs Decker situation is an obvious paraphrase of "The Doomsday Machine", where the same Kirk vs Decker conflict is played out (god, it's not even funny), but with the roles reversed. Kirk now finds himself in the role of an older, more experienced man, but it’s his self-confidence, obsession with an idea, fear of being rejected, and his apparent conflict as an authority figure against the younger and more brilliant captain (ok, it's not about TMP Decker, but you get the idea) that prevents him from being truly flexible and leads to abuse of power. Of course, TMP Kirk handles this situation better than TOS Decker (but he was also not in a state of traumatic shock after the death of his team at the time of the events).

I understand what they meant by this (ok, again), but it's such a blatant misreading of TOS Kirk as a character that I'm starting to think that even AOS Kirk at some points was read much closer to TOS Kirk (maybe not really, but even in the face of the obvious opposition between the two, AOS Kirk got his clearly existing psychological trauma/unhealthy coping patterns and (coincidentally, this was definitely not planned in the heteronormativity of the reboot) his sexual ambivalence) than Film!Kirk. Now I understand much better where this concept of the Golden Boy of Starfleet, the lucky guy who easily gets out of any situation, a kind of exemplary good young man who has had no real difficulties in life, or terrible PTSD or anything shameful, disgusting, dirty, that you want to forget, in his past, came from. The 2009 film (thank's aos) gave new life to this, clearly emphasizing the key difference between AOS/TOS Kirk - the presence of parental support (although it's not like Kirk's parents were ever actually mentioned in TOS, which makes this concept pretty meaningless in light of TOS):

KIRK: Wait. Where you came from, did I know my father? SPOCK PRIME: Yes. You often spoke of him as being your inspiration for joining Starfleet. He proudly lived to see you become Captain of the Enterprise.

And of course, there's that important line between Kirk and David in TWOK, which is obviously easy to read as "the loss of Spock has become such an all-encompassing and overwhelming grief for Kirk that nothing can compare to it" (the films unexpectedly turned out to be even more romantic than the series, which is partly exacerbated by the fact that they lose TOS in the plot and K/S becomes just the only palpably real thing on which it’s based at all), but it actually works very strangely with the TOS Kirk’s death experience, by crossing out the very existence of this:

DAVID: Lieutenant Saavik was right. You never have faced a death. KIRK: No, not like this. I haven't faced death. I've cheated death. I tricked my way out of death ...and patted myself on the back for my ingenuity. ...I know nothing.

I patted myself on the back for my ingenuity. I honestly think about these words in the context of Kirk's words in Obsession /No man achieves Starfleet command without relying on intuition, but have I made a rational decision? Am I letting the horrors of the past distort my judgment of the present?/ and it somehow doesn't fit together at all. How can a man who has lived for over 10 years with a constant paranoid sense of guilt for the deaths of about 200 people through his own mistake consider a survival experience as cheating death and commendable ingenuity? And of course, another obvious thing that doesn't fit together is his Tarsus IV experience. Even if we imagine that somehow Kirk managed to escape a truly horrific experience and that he could’ve saved his own life through trickery and ingenuity, this absolutely contradicts his characterization in TOS. He was a child (at that borderline age when traumatic experience is particularly merciless in its memories), he saw four thousand people die, he experienced a terrible famine (which is hinted at repeatedly in TOS), violence, and experiences of violation of personal physical/psychological space (which is hinted at even more in TOS). "The Conscience of the King" is a beautiful episode in its complexity, which actually gives us enough to understand how fundamentally traumatic these events are, and how much they have influenced Kirk's increasingly (humanistic) worldview:

KIRK: What were you twenty years ago? KARIDIAN: Younger, Captain. Much younger. KIRK: So was I. But I remember. Let's see if you do. Read this into that communicator on the wall. It will be recorded and compared to a piece of Kodos' voice film we have in our files... ... KARIDIAN: (reading) The revolution is successful, but survival depends on drastic measures. Your continued existence represents a threat to the well-being of society. (stops looking at the paper) Your lives means slow death to the more valued members of the colony. Therefore I have no alternative but to sentence you to death. Your execution is so ordered. Signed, Kodos, governor of Tarsus Four. KIRK: I remember the words. I wrote them down. You said them like you knew them. You hardly glanced at the paper. KARIDIAN: I learn my parts very quickly. KIRK: Are you sure? Are you sure you didn't act this role out in front of a captive audience whom you blasted out of existence without mercy? … KARIDIAN: Or is. Kodos made a decision of life and death. Some had to die that others might live. You're a man of decision, Captain. You ought to understand that. KIRK: All I understand is that four thousand people were needlessly butchered.

It honestly surprises me how a character who was written as someone who had more than one experience of mass slaughter, which he witnessed at a young age, suddenly begins to be interpreted as someone who never really encountered death, but only trickery and ingenuity avoided it. TOS Kirk is obviously a player, an actor, a pirate, and a seductress, a person who is really capable of using all available methods to survive/to save others, but all of these actions of TOS Kirk are, and this is actually well written and consistently shown to us, the result of the fact that he has really faced death, and is very well aware of what it is. This is not empty /I don’t believe in no-win scenarios/ this is a clear awareness of what price you have to pay to survive things like genocide. A person who pays that price, who goes through something like that, will never say that they have ingeniously escaped death or that they are lucky.

This reminded me of a very stupid conversation I had with my coworker about Dostoevsky, he's obviously one of my least favorite writers, and talking about him on a special level means just ruin the day, but in this conversation we touched on the topic that Dostoevsky was supposed to be executed, but at the last moment, literally before the shooting, he was pardoned, such an inhumanly cruel experience that forever broke his psyche and affected all his subsequent work, to which my coworker just said, "Exactly, he's such a lucky guy.” I thought for a long time about what to answer him, and I realized that it wasn't like I really had the words for it. Some experiences are the exact opposite of winning a lottery ticket, and living with the memories of them can be more unbearable than death itself, sometimes the price of survival is too high, but even if you get through it, it stays with you forever, and TOS actually talks a lot about these things, but it was hardly something that was really thought about in the 80s.

Spock's death would undoubtedly be the most terrifying and personally difficult experience in TOS Kirk's life, but it wouldn't be the first. It wouldn't be that first terrifying shattering, first shock of a great loss, but it would be the last straw, that point in the chain of all these endless losses and loneliness and pain, after which there would hardly be anything else. It would read much closer to the quiet absolute doom of Yanagihara's "A Little Life" ending than to what we see in TWOK. And while this scene is particularly touching for understanding the K/S relationship, it would have had much more meaning if this confession /No, not like this/ had occurred against the backdrop of Kirk's already existing horrific death experience, the reminder of which is a constant line in TOS, rather than against the backdrop of completely erasing this experience from the plot, reducing it to a simple /I cheated death because I don't believe in no-win scenarios/ simplifying both Kirk as a character and Spock's true significance in his life.

#star trek #star trek tos #the motion picture #the wrath of khan #the search for spock #james t kirk #s'chn t'gai spock #f: poetic cinema #c: that's how you do it' by remembering who and what you are #c: logic is the beginning of wisdom' not the end

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treeembrace · 1 year ago

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#i really wanted to include something related to that info #it's one of the more interesting experiences I've had #but you know #the whole felony thing #hyperspecific polls #polls #hyperspecific poll #hyper specific poll #poll

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crescentfool · 1 year ago

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having the hc that minato is ace is incredibly funny sometimes when you think about how ryoji is oh so very bi because it's like. "ah. death stole my ability to be attracted to people," in the same way that ryoji stole minato's eye color and energy level. like wow, thanks ryoji, you just keep finding things to steal from minato!

#persona 3 spoilers #minato arisato #hc and au nonsense #lizzy speaks #happy international asexuality day to my fellow aces out there i hope you know that you are loved!!! 🎊🎉🥳#i like viewing minato with the lens of him being gay / ace. esp bc it stems from my own experiences so it's fun to look at-#him from that perspective even if that's not what was intended by atlus y'know?#and im sure others have other hcs from me that are informed by their own life experiences and i think that's great ^_^#something that i found interesting while playing FES was how. stilted? minato's animations felt when hugging the girls #you could definitely go with the perspective that it's a graphical limitation or they didn't have time to polish the animations #and that's def true!! but sometimes i see the hug @ yakushima beach + the other hugs and then i compare it to the sou/yo hug in p4 #and there's like... a noticeable difference to me with how intimate and close together the hugs are...#that said i do know that the animations for reload are updated and the hugs are much more natural (good on them tbh!)#the other thing is (pensive sigh). the way you couldn't reject any of the girls when doing their social links in FES #objectively speaking i'm glad that they did away with that and i like how the rejections were handled in reload. it feels naturally written #but also a part of me enjoyed looking at the “hey atlus what the FUCK” moment and thought of how to interpret it differently #specifically with the idea of minato having like.. little to no autonomy and kind of going along with the relationship #it kind of reminded me of myself tbh with like going along with the rship without considering what you want bc #it's what others want or expect out of you... LOL. i dont think atlus intended for someone to interpret it this way but #eh i think that's the fun part of hcs and looking at characters with certain lenses!#regardless of how you perceive minato i do think there's something to be said about him being the kind of guy who molds himself-#into someone that is needed. not wanted. but needed. important distinction here.#the one caveat my brain runs into when im like “minato is ace!” is when i remember thanatos exists and i go #“you know what these ideas can exist simultaneously” GKLHFHDFHD when in doubt schrodinger's headcanons #anyway that's all i've had this thought in my brain in awhile and haven't sat down to share it properly until now 👍#have an excellent weekend everyone !!! lizzy loves you all lets all nurture our inner yippee!!! 🥺💙

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bakerstreetdoctor · 2 days ago

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Okay, now that I have slept enough and am at appropriate mental capacity again, I want to reiterate my gratitude.

First of all, thank you for linking the inventory, it probably would've taken me a while to stumble across it on my own. I had an absolutely delightful Thursday night scrolling through all the hits that showed up for Karl.

Furthermore for bringing En Kunglig Fasad to my attention which will go on my reading list immediately. I've so far been mostly orienting myself along Ragnhild Hatton's sources, which are plentiful and of great help and value, but alas from 1968, which of course precludes me from having the latest studies and possibly reappeared primary sources at hand to choose from.

That he had hybrid boots, besides from the "not being seen in socks" part, to me makes perfect sense, when considering that he basically was on duty physically and mentally at all times, so I don't think he'd like to bother with such a procedure, especially since extra boots or shoes would have to be an item that would've had to be carried around. Now looking at the description of how he would ride to different parts of the army alone or only in very small company, often leaving any servants behind (as written by Bardili, 1730), I would think he might've considered it superflous. Seeing that he was also interested in having a more efficient army and personally involved in developing it, I can't see why he would not be interested in the same for his personal equipment.

Now onto the actual topic at hand:

I find Karl's body image to be very interesting, from the sources I've read. On the one hand obsessed with discipline, on the other seemingly quite sensitive.

For the first one, we have his constant excercise through horse riding (RIP that it didn't give him nice calves) for hours on end, his fasting (idk if Liljegren mentions it this directly, but in Fabrice's memoirs he claims Karl forewent food for a week as an experiment and claimed that a healthy men should only need to eat every three days and sleep in some corner for a few hours (roughly cited from memory)), and of course not thinking it beneath himself to partake in simple living circumstances.

For the latter I'm thinking of the example that everyone immediately recognised him in his teens at masked balls due to his thin stature, which to me is somewhat remarkable, since I feel it really must've stood out how thin he was, if that's the criterium (though of course the question that poses itself next would be how many lanky teens would have been invited to such an occasion), then how he was happy about his "manly" pox scarring, and also how he was consciously finding his own expressions of masculinity as he was going against the common fashions at the time after the war, in a way that we today might find the norm, which stood out in his times though. Two more examples which I find remarkable, which I however only remember from Sigmund Schott's work on Prince Max von Württemberg from 1839, so I don't know how reliable they are, but to me they were very memorable:

Mazeppa hatte ihm schwarze Fuchsfelle verehrt, und Karl sich auf vieles Zureden einen Rock damit füttern lassen. Als er ihn aber das erstemal anzog, und sich jemand wunderte, wie er in einer Nacht so dick geworden sei, legte er den Rock sogleich ab, um ihn nie wieder zu tragen. Ebenso machte er es mit ein paar blauen Sammethandschuhen, die ihm die Herzogin von Holstein-Gottorp, seine Schwester, genäht hatte. Jemand sagte, er sehe darin recht galant aus, und die Sammet- Handschuhe machten den hirschledernen Platz.

In translation:

Mazeppa had inherited him black fox pelts and Karl after much persuasion had a coat lined with them. But when he put it on for the first time, someone wondered how he had gotten so fat over night, he immediately took the coat off to never again wear it. Suchsame he did with a pair of blue velvet gloves the Duchess of Holstein-Gottorp, his sister, had sewed him. Someone said he looked quite galant in them, and the velvet gloves were replaced by the deer-leather ones.

Now, I'm not sure how or where Schott dug these stories up, but if true, I feel they say much about his self-image, which in a way, especially the coat story, feel in a way also opposed to how his boots were bolstered and his coat made to make him look more authoritative. Or maybe not? I guess you'd have to be in his brain to get his reasoning. Overall to me it seems he disliked comments on his looks.

Again, thank you so much for the effort you went to!

i’m reading a biography on karl xii and they just mentioned that he had size 36 shoes?????? what do you mean i have bigger feet than him…. i’m a size 38 and trying to find men’s shoes in that size is almost impossible, unless i buy from the uk. which is a huge cause of insecurity for me. and now you tell me that the widely idolised ~warrior king~ had smaller feet than me?????

#bsd replies #max and karl

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werewolfdog · 4 months ago

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Gonna be OSDDIDposting on this blog more fyi

#OSDDID is one of my special interests ; I really enjoy talking and researching about it #I used to do it a lot but had experiences of being fakeclaimed terribly #that I got so anxious + scared to do it and left the topic with sharing our personal sys experiences alone for a while #but I've been gradually feeling better as feeling more comfortable to do it #when the fakeclaim attacks happened we didn't really have a circle of support - especially with those who share our sys experiences #so it feels better talking and sharing posts about OSDDID while having that #but yeah just an important note :>#💭

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pollen · 9 months ago

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i've been diving a lot deeper into adhd symptoms and comorbidities and misdiagnoses and whenever i tell my boyfriend something i learned that sounds like me he responds with something like

#idk he knows me more than anyone bc i can't hide the parts i'm ashamed of from him #last night he was like. yeah EYE think you have adhd but i'm just some guy #idk i'm excited about this not because i want to be Quirky for internet reasons. yknow. but bc i've felt like an impostor of a human being #and i have no sense of self and i can't get myself to do basic tasks and the thought of doing something i don't want to do #genuinely makes me want to throw up/my brain shuts down/i can't think or talk or function to the point where i can't work.#so i can't support myself. so i feel terrible about myself. and i've been in and out of therapy for 20 years and have numerous diagnoses #that have never really felt like they fully encapsulate what's going on. and like. i've kinda just internalized that i'm not as good at #being a person as everyone else because i struggle so so much. like yeah i did well in school but i had to sacrifice literally everything #else to do that. idk how everyone else is managing to have a job and hobbies and friends #i get to pick like. one now. i used to be able to juggle everything to some degree although i felt like i was being careless in all areas #except school. i'm so scared of making mistakes or starting anything or talking to new people or trying new hobbies #because i know it won't interest me more than a couple weeks MAX and i'll feel listless and restless again #and i've come to understand this as part of who i am at my core. i'm just someone who can't commit and isn't reliable or a good friend #i just want so badly for that not to be the case because i want so badly to not be stuck like this #idk im going home to talk to my dad this weekend and just rest because i'm really really not doing well #which is why i'm scrambling to try to figure out what's going on with me because idk how much longer i feasibly can do this #and i might be moving back to the pnw bc therapists in pa don't work with medicaid #and no psychiatrists near me are taking new patients. and i can't work to get on private insurance. but therapists in or do work w medicaid #so idk. again if youre diagnosed w adhd and this sounds not like someone who is consuming social media brain rot content about adhd #but rather someone whose experiences you identify with. please let me know. please please #i am reaching out to professionals also but things move slowly and i'm trying to compile evidence so i don't sound like i'm making it up

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hermitsdump · 1 month ago

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coochie isn't real. I would know bc I have one and it's fake

#maybe it's Dysphoria but omegaverse makes more sense than reality once again #genuinely what the fu k I've had like. a sort of special interest in sex ed for years my algorithms are still educational videos and latest #research on stuff and like #ok but actually having one??? this shit cannot be rea #it's like reading the structure and steps etc of cults and being like. hmm yes that makes sense #but actually having been in them and flashing back or reading stories of someone else's experience is so???#this shit cannot be real #even though it IS and I've experienced it it's so??? naahhhhhhhh actually

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mariocki · 11 months ago

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Honor Blackman guest stars as art expert Syd Lewis in Saber of London: Deep in the Heart of Chelsea (1.3, NBC, 1957)

#fave spotting #honor blackman #cathy gale #saber of london #the vise #the avengers #classic tv #deep in the heart of chelsea #1957 #nbc #so im visiting parents for a week or two and taking the opportunity to catch up on my old tv watching as i have access to my beloved #dvd collection. Saber was one of the final network releases I've located (after‚ i might say‚ a long long search for a reasonably priced #copy). so. the story of Saber of London. (deep breath). SoL is really a development of The Vise; for more on the needlessly complex history #of that series you can follow the appropriate tag above. in short The Vise was a crime anthology made specifically for US tv but produced #in the UK using brit actors writers and directors. the recurring character of Mark Saber was popular enough that the show eventually became #The Vise: Mark Saber; it then became Saber of London. some sources still regard this show as essentially being a later series of The Vise #(and it does still use the og theme tune over the end credits) but considering the title change and (crucially) the fact that SoL saw the #series move from ABC to NBC‚ im gonna consider this its own self contained show and number the episodes accordingly (ie. this is series 1 o #Saber of London not series 5 or 7 (depending on your counting) of The Vise). anyway now that's all out of the way.#there's little material difference between this series and the slightly earlier The Vise: Mark Saber episodes besides new titles and a #different introductory spiel from star Donald Gray. our hero is still a plucky private detective undertaking modest cases that the show's #budget will allow. this ep concerns art forgeries and an attempt to trap the criminals responsible‚ which means Saber must call on an art #expert to help authenticate the works. enter Honor! not yet a star‚ Honor did have a decade of acting experience behind her #which is maybe reflected in the fact that she's given an unusually meaty part for a woman in this series: she's neither victim nor love #interest (which are the usual roles) but a witty and intelligent source of assistance to the hero.#unlike The Vise episodes (which could take up to a decade to appear in the uk if they did at all) SoL appears to have had a fairly regular #slot from Granada about two years after the show's US premier. this ep would have been seen by uk audiences in 1959

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ghostieboii · 3 months ago

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I don't think anything could recreate the sheer pain I felt watching I Saw the TV Glow on some random website because I can't afford streaming, because every chance it got, my wifi would just give up. And I would just sob at my laptop, begging it to keep playing.

#I'm not even an egg. I'm not in the closet either. I've been out even when it might not have been in my safest interests.#I'm just here and having like the worst time trying to medically transition #Which is an exaggeration but nothing's felt more difficult than right now post-watching the movie #I've contemplated just giving up on it and being okay with having socially transitioned but I can't #I have to keep going #There's still time there will always be time.#I guess on one hand I'm glad that I didn't watch the movie in theaters #Because I was crying and snotty as soon as it began honestly #But what I wouldn't give to just have had the experience #I need to sit down #<- sitting down at my desk

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lord-squiggletits · 1 year ago

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Between TF and my other fandoms like BG3 and TES, I keep finding myself making OCs that have some element of "battle hardened hero who is actually good and righteous, but so traumatized by the toll of war that even after the war ends they feel empty/wrecked and can't enjoy the fruits of victory" and I'm not sure if it's bc I gravitate to a certain type of media where such OCs fit in best, or bc I have a specific character archetype I like and gravitate towards media that contains those things.

#squiggposting #possibly a mix of both bc idk if i've gone into detail here but war stories are one of my favorite genre of stories #like for fun fictional reasons but also for real life political and moral and emotional implications #war stories are literally so fucking cool man i feel like they get a bad rap for just being propaganda tools #and obv a lot of them can be/are explicitly made to be but also like #(i feel like i'm stealing a quote from one such story) war stories are also a method for the soldiers of the war to tell their side #and usually the soldier's side of the story tells of the LESS glorious and propagandistic sides #maybe ive just had the pleasure of having really good teachers/professors but like #most of the war stories i've read are specifically ABOUT the bridge bt war propaganda and the actual experience of fighting in a war #and i think even the ones where the soldier in question supports the war (american sniper comes to mind)#it's very interesting and dare i say important to read it and understand when and why and how they came to support war #like idk i think it's one of those things where ppl shy away from war stories bc #'ew gross it's all pro war probably american imperialist propaganda written by oppressive killers trying to make us feel sorry for them'#without understanding... idk. the difference between an individual soldier's evil and the evil of an entire institution?#some sort of anti intellectualism regarding soldiers as being inherently evil ppl who aren't to be listened to or taken seriously?#it's not a matter of like. you don't need to like or sympathize with them per se. but i think part of understanding and criticizing #the institution of war is getting the ground level testimonies about it. and more of them are critical than some ppl believe #plus i mean FUCK usamerican imperialism it doesn't need to be about US wars! other countries lived thru other wars that are also important!#war stories may have their strongest association w american imperialism but that doesn't mean other war stories don't exist #idk sorry for rambling in the tags

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trans-soapberry · 1 year ago

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the thingw the orcs in dunmeshi is sth i skirt around bc like u said it is. not a great modern take on orcs. obv not the worst it could be and kui at least did engage w trying to write a more involved lore on them rather than just having this be the same “orcs are big uncivilized brutes” version 8000000 but that element is still there. and i do think “its not the worst” is hardly what i would want to set my highest expectations to jdhdgksgd

tumblrs being a bitch n not letting me put images in so I'll just paste the text from the other ask

Nodding. ty for the info on the ways halfling racism can be compared to irl examples in “the middle east” like that rly is such a close comparison i wonder if it was at all intentional… AND FR on the whole . wishing we knew what they called themselves bc the “halfling” “half foot” thing i rly cant help but think abt how it feels like irl examples of certain groups being denigrated to category slurs its like. LOL. dunmeshi makinh me feel party to fictional racism and microaggressions against my will...

Idk Abt skirting around bc I think it's smthn we should face head on, but at the same time I'm not in a place where I can really add onto the discussion wrt orcs as a white/East Asian person. IIRC ppl have said tolkiens orcs are black and/or central Asian (Mongolian I believe) coded, which is meaningful cause he's influenced so much of modern fantasy, and thats. Y'know. Not great. Also the orcs in dungeon Meshi are essentially an indigenous group from what I remember so that's also a whole mess. Again, my opinions arent very meaningful when it comes to this, but I feel like it's incredibly disappointing to see an author who's clearly capable of nuanced and interesting commentary on racism in the context of real life and fiction (even if it's not always great it's clear she's thinking about it in some depth) really just. Fall back on tropes. Bc for the other races - human is a wider category than usual, tall men aren't always the Everyman, elves are long lived but that doesn't make them wiser, and halflings are mature, worldly and resourceful, which I feel like does a lot to break free of typical fantasy pigeon holeing. But the orcs are just sorta... The Bad Guy but Not That Bad I guess? Theoretically it's a departure from the "super evil forever no exceptions" idea of the but it's still so far behind what needs to be done to make it less of a lazy, racist trope.

Yeah, again I'm not west Asian or Arab like I said, but between reading stuff ppl online write n talking to my Iraqi friend + rereading dungeon Meshi and really trying to analyze it, it kinda stood out to me. I will say I was a little unconfident posting about it bc it's 3 things (4 if you count the name note) but theyre still really notable at least to me. The hand/foot cutting is I feel the most explicit? Because that's such a fucked up stereotype it just stands out immediately. I don't necessarily know if the half foot/middle east connection was intentional, because I assume Japan/Asia in general has a different relationship with West Asia (since they are the "far east" in comparison, so "Middle East" wouldnt really make sense?), but it could be one of those things that colonialism managed to spread. I'm not very knowledgeable about that, but even if it wasn't intentional I think it's a very interesting parallel in how language can be used to categorize people as "normal/other". So i can't say if its intentional or not, but it's definitely an interesting lens to consider the story thru. Id also say I believe halflings are said to be native to a place that's east from where the story takes place, but not the eastern continent (which is p much easy Asia). I've seen some ppl take this to mean eastern Europe, and I don't think that's wrong, but I think u could also think of it as west Asia? Idk if we ever got much info on it in story, so I might be missing some details. (Honestly I'd personally HC that halflings are generally mixed Eastern European/West Asian- not to conflate the two, but rather Im imaging the majority of them are in a kinda blended culture).

#Talking Abt my Iraqi friend again- they're not into Dungeon Meshi but I did chat w them bc I was interested in if they had any thoughts #Abt my conclusions wrt halflings marginalization resembling the way Arabs r stereotyped and they did agree w me on the stuff I brought up #But they're just one person (and my friend) so if any Arabs/West Asians disagree w me Id prob defer to their judgement on the matter #I will say half lings aren't one to one w arab stereotypes bc the ones my friend complained Abt a lot are gender related #(eg. The idea of the violent Arab man and the eternally victimized Arab woman) and those among others aren't really present #As stereotypes about half lings (besides stealing the big one is infantilization which I'd say reminds me of how east Asians are often #Treated by being either fetishized or desexualized bc of their ''youthful appearance''. I specify east Asians bc that's what I'm familiar #With and I don't want to make assumptions Abt other Asians experiences or wrongfully generalize #Anyway I won't lie I initially went in to my reread (besides just wanting to experience the story again) wondering if I could argue #Chilchuck was east Asian and while there's some stuff (mainly infantilization and potentially the money stuff) I realized their #Marginalization resembled Arab ppls marginalization more at least from my perspective #So yea. Again not any sort of authority on the topic but once I noticed I couldn't stop thinking Abt it and now I've typed a lot of words

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