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scripttorture · 4 years ago

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Not sure if this would really be relevant, but you're the best resource I can think of for prison systems. In a secluded supermax prison with all male staff & all male prisoners, they suddenly get a single (like 19 or 20 y/o) female prisoner who "can't go anywhere else & needs to be kept heavily restrained." What's the warden's best option for making sure she's safe & treated with respect for the first few days/weeks till they can get female guards? Modern setting, mostly American style prison.

I feel like I know enough about this to be helpful but I’ve never claimed to be an expert on prisons and I think you should try to double check what I say. Partly because I think that the ‘best option’ in a case like this would be heavily biased by opinion and what you consider the best outcome to be. I don’t want you to mistake my opinion for fact or discount the idea that you might think differently presented with the same evidence.

I also think this is the kind of case where there’s a big difference between what should happen and what would likely happen.

It’s also worth stating at the outset that, in my opinion, the American prison system is set up in a way which inherently makes abuse more likely. And that makes a difference. When the system itself is already set up in a way which makes torture more likely the efforts of individuals within those systems are… less likely to be effective.

We’re talking about a system where solitary confinement is the first rather then the last resort. Use of solitary confinement over the safe period (1 week) is routine, with prisoners in maximum security facilities often being kept in isolation for months or years.

Which causes mental health problems to a disabling degree and drastically increases the chances of suicide or self mutilation.

Rape is still common and while it’s often discussed in terms of attacks by fellow prisoners, a lot of attacks are by guards. Especially when you’re talking about women prisoners and juvenile prisoners. Incidentally it was only in 2012 that the US started recommending against cross-gender searches of women prisoners.

And a lot of guards in American women’s prisons are men. I found figures of 40% based on data from 2007 and up to 70% for federal facilities from 2011. Both of these were cited figures from books I don’t have full access to. I can’t confidently say how accurate these figures are or how the authors came by them. I can confidently say that there are male guards in female prisons and that this has been linked to abuse (based on the testimony of rape survivors in American prisons).

While we’re on the subject the kind of restraint use I think you’re referring to is torture. You can find descriptions of its use in Chinese prisons over here.

Essentially humans are not designed to withstand long periods with little to no movement, or holding the same position for a long time. It is unhealthy. It causes a significant amount of damage to the body. Sometimes it’s lethal.

Now if you didn’t know this that is OK.

I’m here because I know a lot of this kind of information isn’t common knowledge and that it’s hard to find. There’s nothing wrong with not knowing something, we all learn sometime.

We’ll circle back to restraint tortures and alternatives in a moment. For now let’s focus on prisons

I think that the most likely thing to happen in an American prison is that this character would be thrown in solitary confinement and kept there.

You can read about how harmful that would be here.

I also think that it’s unlikely an American prison, having decided to house a woman in a male prison, would hire female guards specifically to accommodate one prisoner. And I think a woman in this environment would be especially vulnerable to physical and sexual abuse.

You can read about that here.

There’s an in-depth Reuters investigation on the deaths of women in American jails that you can find here. It contains a graphic description of a dead baby, born in a jail, as well as descriptions of systemic racism towards black women and abuse of the mentally ill. (Seriously if you’re a black woman and pregnant or a mother of a young child don’t read it.)

If you want to write a female character being put into an institution designed for men in America… that’s what it looks like. Higher rates of preventable deaths.

Here’s the thing though: You do not have to make the situations in your story as bad as they are in real life.

There is nothing wrong with deciding that the characters in your fiction get treated with more care and respect then is the norm in real life. It might not be realistic but we are writing fiction.

And there is a difference between a story which is unrealistic in favour of the torturer and one which is unrealistic in favour of the victim.

Having said that: If you want to create a fictional, less abusive prison system for this story it will not look anything like an American prison.

I have… some rather complicated feelings about the idea of setting the story in America and then presenting the prison system as better then it is. Remember that I am a pacifist and I was raised in Saudi Arabia. I say this because I feel as though the abuses in the American prison system are whitewashed in the media America exports.

If I was writing a story set in Saudi which involved imagining a better, less abusive prison system I’d feel confident my readers would know this didn’t reflect the reality. I feel like they would understand without being told that I was trying to imagine a better version of my home rather then trying to accurately show the prisons there.

I do not think that would be the case if you did the same thing in an American setting.

I’ve talked enough about the negatives. Let’s move on to how we can make this idea work.

The way I see it the big choice here is whether you want to keep the setting and the abusive use of restraints or whether you want the character to be safe and treated with respect while incarcerated.

If you’re picturing the character being held in a way that renders her more or less completely immobile (like a restraint chair or a bed) then there’s a pretty decent chance she’d die within the first couple of weeks regardless of any other abuse. There’s a reason restraints aren’t commonly used in hospitals and mental health facilities any more: they increase the chances of sudden death. Even in young healthy people.

There’s a case you can read about here that’s a decent example. Young, 27 year old man, partially restrained for ten days after a mental health episode. Dead from a heart attack in ten days.

Obviously not everyone who is completely restrained for weeks dies of a heart attack. But bed sores exist. So do bladder infections caused by catheters and muscle wastage and a host of other ailments that are cured by simply letting someone move around.

Honestly combined with solitary and the high chance of sexual abuse I think that full body restraint is probably throwing too many tortures into the story. Because all of these individually are complex issues and the harm each of them does is routinely downplayed. Handling all of them in the same narrative would be really tough and the restraints are the easiest one to get rid of.

If you’re picturing something more like the restraint torture (constantly wearing hand and leg cuffs) described in the Chinese case I linked to above, survival is a lot more likely. That’s to do with the degree of movement victims are capable of.

A person who is immobile with their muscles under strain is in a stress position. The death rates for those rise sharply after 48 hours. A person who is immobile when their muscles aren’t under strain (eg restrained to a bed with six point restraints) is not in a stress position. But they’re at greater risk of a heart attack or stroke and after weeks they’ll start to develop bed sores (assuming they’re not lying in a pool of their own waste.)

A person who’s restrained in a way that lets them walk, but slowly, lets them stand, but not straight, is experiencing a restraint torture. They probably won’t get kidney failure (the cause of death in stress positions) and they’re less likely to get a heart attack or a stroke.

There are still serious health effects. Muscle wastage and weakness afterwards is very common. Survivors of this particular torture tend to report chronic pain and joint problems. I’m not entirely sure what causes this but since it’s very consistent I’d guess it’s a physical effect of long term restraint use.

Survivors also tend to report some mobility problems afterwards. There’s a loss of fine motor control and often some difficulty performing day to day tasks that require raising and lowering the arms. Like putting on a jacket unaided or hanging washing on a line or taking things down from a cupboard above the head. This could be due to nerve damage, damage to muscles or ligaments at the joints or both.

These sorts of restraints don’t leave victims in a stress position; which is why they can survive for months or more rarely years while restrained (stress positions are only consistently survivable up to 48 hours.) But nonetheless they do leave victims in a constant state of pain. The restraints dig in. The position and inability to straighten is painful, especially for the joints. A lot of victims report being unable to sleep because of the restraints.

And sleep deprivation causes it’s own problems which you can read about here.

I might be on the wrong track here but generally no one has to be restrained. So the inclusion of that in the ask made me think this story might have elements of fantasy, sci fi or super hero genres: a character with a special ability that can only be used under certain circumstances.

I had a problem with something like that in one of my stories recently. The character in question can manipulate how people think and feel using her voice. And I racked my brains trying to think of a way the police in the story could keep her imprisoned once they caught her. I looked up all sorts of sedatives, thought about solitary and all kinds of over the top abusive stuff that fiction teaches us is a go-to practical solution.

I didn’t want to use them. I didn’t want her to be tortured.

And then it hit me: her guards could just wear noise cancelling headphones.

Sometimes the answer really is that simple.

Think about this character’s power set, if that’s part of the problem here. Really consider what she can do and how she does it. Have you got an underlying chemical process going on? If it’s magic what’s the cause and effect for it? What are her limits? What is her range?

Use that to think about when the power breaks down and why. And if you’re writing fanfiction based on a canon with poorly defined magical abilities…. Make something up to define how she does what she does.

Focus and concentration is a commonly used way of doing this. I saw a brilliant program a while back where the main character actually had no idea how his powers worked and was as surprised and elated as everyone else when they did. I try to come up with strict, simple definitions of a character’s powers/abilities. Then I work to try and find inventive ways of applying that. Find a method that works for you and don’t be afraid to try a few different approaches.

Unless you’ve written yourself into a corner, chances are this character (like mine) doesn’t need to be restrained or isolated.

And if you have written yourself into a corner, you can write yourself out of it again. Either with the choices you make now or by going back and editing what you already have.

On a similar note if you want this character to be in a better, less abusive system does she have to be in a male prison and does she really, absolutely have to be in America?

Because if you want the lowest possible rates of violence and abuse today that means the Scandinavian prison system. You can find out more about it here and here for Norway.

You can read more about global prison systems here.

The gist of it is that there are huge systematic differences. Prison guards in Norway are trained for 2-3 years on specially designed course and the ratio of staff to prisoners is almost 1:1. (For contrast in the UK, which is closer to the US system training takes 12 weeks and the ratio is 1:4.) Prison guards in Norway are well paid, facilities are well staffed and guards are allowed generous breaks and holidays.

This creates a system where staff are not overly stressed, sleep deprived or pressured to achieve unreasonable ‘results’. Training focuses on conflict resolution, this along with a less pressurised working environment this creates a better overall environment for staff and prisoners. Force is really considered a last resort and staff are provided with the tools, training and support necessary to make that a reality.

There’s also effort put into the physical construction of these facilities: cells aren’t cramped, overcrowded or unsuitable for human habitation.

I’m not trying to claim these prisons are perfect. There is still a big trend of prolonged solitary confinement use in Norway and other Scandinavian countries. There is still abuse in prisons.

But- Well I can’t compare directly with US prisons because I didn’t find statistics using similar measures for violent attacks. However I can compare with the UK. With a prison population of about 3,200 Norway had 181 attacks on staff. The UK, with a prison population of 83,300, had a little over 10,000 attacks.

I think if you really want to write something with the least potential for abuse then you’re better off imagining an international (or explicitly Scandinavian) institution built more along the lines of the Norwegian system.

If you’ve got your heart set on an American, male prison being the only place this character can be then I think the ‘best’ thing a well intentioned warden in that position could do is throw her in solitary and have her kept on suicide watch.

The safe period for solitary confinement is about a week.

After that she’d start to show signs of mental health problems which would get worse the longer she was held. By about the 1-2 month point these problems are probably going to be permanent. Beyond that the chances of self harm and suicide attempts starts to rise. So does the chance she’ll have a psychotic break and start hallucinating. After a year you’re looking at multiple suicide attempts and chances of self mutilation. By which I mean things like trying to destroy your own hands, legs, face etc.

The decision about what’s right for your story is always yours. You know these characters, the setting and the kind of narrative you’re telling best.

Pick the options that best fit with what you want from the story and the characters. Because that’s the best decision for the story.

But if you’re writing about an abusive system don’t gloss over the abuse. If you’re writing about a torturous practice in prisons (like solitary confinement) don’t ignore the life long damage it causes.

I hope that helps. :)

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0lshadyl0 · 5 years ago

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Hi may I ask for yandere Shoto x fem reader non-con, she's part onryo and thinks she's unattractive.

>sees the word onryo in the ask

> has zero ideas what the hell is that

> do some research time *insert elevator music here too* > understand what onryo mean

> has an existential crisis because this gives a full OC's creation material but doesn't have the time for that because of Christmas /but still creates one for her future villain oc blog/

> surrender and do the request

well, the idea is nice and have a good non-con material but I think that this answer will be kind of different at what you asked since I have to give a more realistic way of what an onryo is and her characteristics

first of all, Onryo is (怨霊, literally "vengeful spirit", sometimes rendered "wrathful spirit") refers to a ghost (yūrei) believed to be capable of causing harm in the world of the living, injuring or killing enemies, or even causing natural disasters to exact vengeance to redress the wrongs it received while alive, then taking their spirits from their dying bodies.

mainly these spirits are feminine, women who were abandoned by their husbands, their husbands were capricious and made them suffer a lot or that on their deathbed their husbands promised not to remarry but breach their promise, they are also distressed women who curse their beautiful Kimonos

now with that explained, let get this jam~

Get you back to me, Yandere Todoroki Shoto x Onryo Reader

warnings: cursing, rape, verbal abuse, death, toxic relationship, cheating, betrayal

word count: 2223

He would have been able to avoid that catastrophic end, if he had only acted before, if he had not respected your wishes, letting you be "happy" with that moron who only caused you unhappiness while cheating on you with whatever woman crossed him, he would not be there crying... at your funeral

You endured his abuses, lies, deceptions and from time to time, knocks from when he arrived drunk to your home, forced your door to insult you, reminding you how horribly ugly you were and that you should be grateful that he fixed his gaze on you, then he was beating you, watering his beer in your bruised face and then going to the neighboring building where he slept with some other girl

But your kind heart did not allow you to recriminate or blame him, even though Shoto insisted that you leave the son of a bitch, after all, you deserved better, you, a sweet woman who with a smile from your lips made the heterochromatic transcend to nirvana and thank all god that he knew for the fact of your existence, you only saw him as a friend, he, who treated you as if you were a queen, you only allowed him to be the one to console you after the mistreatment of the loser who didn't treat you like Todoroki thought you deservedAnd that's how in the bicolor's desperation to show you that he loved more than him, that you deserved more than that fucker, that you should be in his arms and not his; one night he invited you to his apartment, a luxurious pent-house, where he started drinking with you while they talked about worldly subjects

Sometime later, when you were a little past from tipsy, Shoto took advantage of your moment of weakness, in the middle of your crying while you were questioning if you really were so horrible that the love of your life decided to meet your fleshly needs with other women while he only gave you hurtful words along with blows that occasionally left you in the hospitalShoto comforted you by massaging your back while slowly directing you, preventing you from tripping over various furniture on the way to your room, where he laid you in his bed, so that later when all the alcohol went up at the head so that you were almost half unconscious, he proceeded to undress you, then he undressed and made love to you as you had never felt beforeIn your alcoholic state, you thought that the man to whom you gave all your passion without inhibiting yourself, was your beloved who had finally decided to stop fucking with other women to finally surrender entirely to you, perhaps, your relationship with him, at last, was going again for a better way

But you were not aware that those sweet moans and your lascivious expressions full of desire were not seen by the man you thought you were giving yourself, but, on the contrary, it was Shoto who enjoyed you at that moment even though he hated a lot that the name you moaned with such fervor was his damn one, but he let it go through this time, after all, it was he who had you at that moment, fucking in and out of you to finally implanting his seed deep inside your walls The next day, when you woke up, with tremendous headache due to the hangover, you realized your mistake, seeing you wrapped in the arms of the bicolor man, quickly and ignoring both the headache and your best friend who asked you to stay in the bed with him, you said no while looking at him with hate shouting that you would never forgive him, also when I try to approach you, you slapped him "I hate you! I hate you Todoroki Shoto, I trusted you and you took advantage of me" you were angered"Understand Y/n, I have done it for a good reason" he was surprised since he had never seen you so furious"No! I will not listen to you, you have gone out of line with this, I do not want to see you anymore! I want you to disappear from my life!" You yelled at him, which he got shocked and in his chest, a feeling of emptiness was beginning to be generated within it

In a clumsy way, you put on your underwear while a shiver ran through your body, feeling like liquid began to come out of your pussy staining your pantyhose, you knew very well it was and fear seized you for that, because, yesterday was the day most likely for you to get pregnant, something that Shoto also knew since he was the one who remembered about your menstrual cycle since you were quite forgetful about itYou just put on some pants while the feeling of betrayal got into your heart, you had made it very clear to Shoto that you didn't see him that way, you already loved another person and, even so, against your wishes he got you drunk, he fucked you and he came inside of you, by this point you already understood that his intention was to get you pregnant so that you had no choice but to marry himWith tears in your eyes, you put your shirt in a bad way and left the apartment all messy, making it clear to everyone with your image that you had a lot of sex, but that didn't matter to you because you just wanted to get to a pharmacy and buy the morning after pill, take it, go to your house and bathe to remove all evidence of Todoroki in your body, although you saw it complicated with the marks of hickeys on your neck, breasts, and legs

But for your bad luck, just when you left the elevator you saw your boyfriend with another woman, but this was not any other woman, she was your friend, rather, your best childhood friend, the same woman who now she was massaging her body in the chest of your beloved with lust, however, he was very busy looking at you with the deepest disgust that could manifest on a face"I can not believe that someone as disgustingly horrible as you

had the audacity to fool me with anybody out there" he said seeing in the obvious state in which you were, it showed from afar that you had fucked someone"I have more pity for the poor idiot who put his cock inside you, after all, you have always been the ugly of both," said your supposed best friend making fun of you "but this show of betrayal of you, damn bitch, make the things easier for us, no honey? ”she looked at your boyfriend"Consider any shit that we had finished, I already found a prettier bitch than you" said your now ex-boyfriend while giving your now ex-best friend a hard spanking and smiling pleased with himselfEven though you wanted to say something, prevent the relationship from ending, beg for him not to leave you for another woman, you raised your right hand to get the attention of your beloved, but he gave you a look of hate that pushed back your advance for fear of him hitting you right thereWithout more I just watch you as he left with another more beautiful woman, a woman you trusted, you thought she was your friend and in the end, she betrayed you, saw how they kissed inside the elevator while the doors closed and your heart, like your desire to live, broke into a thousand pieces

Feeling as miserable as a person who was abandoned by the person they love the most in the world, terrible pain in your chest took your breath away, arching to try to ask for help you fell to the ground while suffering a heart attackWhen Shoto came out of his shock and dressed half decently to run after you and apologize, in addition to making sure that you didn't clean up or take a pill the day after, thus ensuring your pregnancy and that his plan could end with a successWhen he arrives at the lobby, he contemplates how paramedics tried to give you first aid, there were people between horrified and curious seeing you suffer, Todoroki accompanied the paramedics to take you to the ambulance to quickly go to the hospitalHe was sweating cold, inside Shoto it was a whirlwind of emotions, but mostly there was the terror of whatever happened to you was serious, unfortunately, his fear was confirmed when they arrived at the hospital, you had died from a heart attack, according to the doctor was stress-induced cardiomyopathyYou literally died because the son of a bitch broke your heart, now he had to bury you while he lamented your death and the future he would never have with youBut, much to the surprise of the bicolor, you came back to life, or, rather, you were forced to return to live with your quirk, one that you didn't know you had, after all, you were supposed to be quirkless, but not, you had a quirk, but it would only be activated if you died

Your quirk was Onryo, a skill that allowed you to come back to life to retaliate for all the evils that had been caused to you in the form of a vengeful spirit full of hateThis organization was the legion of the elite, a criminal group approved by law that was responsible for dirty work, of any kind, that the government ordered them to do in exchange for being exonerated of any type of crime they committed in their "time free"This group had been following you for years, since one of its members, who could see the future in the long term, saw your potential to kill in your vengeful spirit formSo they decided that you were as miserable as possible by the time you died, you became a powerful murderous spirit which they would control, they were the ones who killed your parents, they brainwashed your boyfriend's brain to make you psychologically weak until he point that you only wanted to die, either by suicide or other methods, so your brainwashed boyfriend, mistreat you by telling you every day that you were horrible, betraying you with other women, while beating you and making you feel worse than crap, not only that, they also brainwashed your best friend to fall in love with your boyfriend and take it away from you

At your funeral they were there waiting for the few who came to visit you, a few friends to whom the organization did not take importance because they were not very significant to you and the pro-hero Todoroki Shoto, they waited for them to leave to steal your body and resuscitate you, the wait was long since the hero stayed a long time crying your loss, regretting not having forced you to break up with your boyfriend so that you were with himNine hours later, when the squad in charge of stealing your body began to lose faith that the hero left, Shoto finally did, he was called to attend an emergency of a villain attack with a water quirk

With renewed hopes, the five members stole your body successfully, then in one of its many bases your spirit was brought back to life with the help of a necromancer and sealed in a puppet that had the same image of your body, now with your spirit inside the puppet, you seemed as if you had never died, with the small difference that you no longer had the same personality, in you there was only hate, the desire to avenge yourself of all the women who hurt you and you took your revenge, you killed them allIt didn't take long for everyone and, above all, a certain pro hero with half white half red hair to realize your return; Thanks to the legion of the elite that provides you with the information of all the women with whom your ex-boyfriend cheated on you, you went and killed them all, you eliminated all those that you knew that they had hurt you because the truth is, you had no idea that the ones that ruined your life were the same ones that now helped you and that you started to consider them as your new friends, all because they're gentle, supportive and caring with you, and that comfort was very welcomed As soon as Todoroki learned that you were walking again in the world of the living, for the first time he thanked the existence of that organization of legalized mercenaries, after all, they had given him a new opportunity to have you by your side and this time he would not leave, not even if you gave him a negative answer, he was going to have you whenever you want it or not, he would keep you safe and take care of you as he couldn't do it the first time, without wasting time, he began his search to find the legion of the elite and above all to bring you back

................................................................................................

this was so long, why I can’t do short scenarios?

#bnha #bnha scenarios #bnha fic?#this has the posiblity of a second part??#maybe?#todoroki shoto #bnha todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #yandere #yandere posts #yandere bnha #yandere todoroki #yandere shoto #yandere todoroki shoto #yandere todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #i am bad at romance #shady spicy

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goldenkamuyhunting · 5 years ago

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Ramblings and crazy theory time about GK chap 239 “Discharge”

So… well, Noda continues with a chapter whose sense of humor makes me feel what Kikuta is feeling.

Yeah, really, sorry, but this is not my sort of thing.

The cover is…

… well, it’s apparently based on this video from the movie “She Hate me” by Spike Lee. I warn you, watch at your own risk.

So we go back on the story that see Usami and our wannabe ‘Jack’ that after just a moment of standoff… pardon, jack-off attack each other with the ‘weapons they have at hands’ (I’m sure you can figure what I’m talking about without having me to spell it out), Usami yelling to a shocked and grossed out Kikuta that guy is the killer before… well, ‘firing’. In a “Matrix” like scene ‘Jack’ avoids and fires back only for Usami to avoid in a beyond spectacular manner.

Jack then runs away, only for Kikuta to pull out a more conventional weapon, one of his many Nagant M1895 and fire at him multiple times before chasing him with Usami, the two going to two separate ways to try to encircle ‘Jack’.

Too bad that Jack as a horse and, with it, slams against Usami, sending him flying.

Kikuta manages to hit both him...

and his hat, which falls.

If the image we’re shown is reliable Jack has short hair. Kikuta then tosses his now completely discharged beloved Nagant away (his eyes aren’t shown to better deliver how this pains him... will he managed to recover her later?)...

...and runs to ‘Jack’, managing to grab on him and climb on his horse. He then grabs another of his Nagant (honestly, if this was another manga I’ll expect Kikuta to have a hammerspace filled with them but more ‘realistically’ he has just more than one holster under his coat) and point it to Jack’s head.

Unluckily for him ‘Jack’ still has a good hold on his ‘very personal peculiar weapon of choice’ and is reading it to fire.

Kikuta, who might face an army of Russians trained to kill him but not THIS (and I don’t blame him that’s a job solely for people like Usami though I think Ushiyama might do good as well) starts sweating and, instead than blasting our convict’s head away, tries protecting himself with poor results.

In fact ‘Jack’ gets him in the eyes and causes him to fall off the horse (I guess congratulation are in order to ‘jack’ for his ability to accurately aim behind himself while riding on a horse with such weapon).

Usami reaches Kikuta, whcih complains ‘Jack’ managed to get his eyes (trust me Kikuta, you aren’t the only one who was screaming ‘my eyes!’ through this chapter), then the two resume running after ‘Jack’ but they’re neither Koito nor the Tsukinator and so ‘Jack’ on his horse, can easily distance them. They hear a woman screaming but get there too late, only to find her dead.

Kikuta wonders if he did this while in the middle of running from them. The scene switches to a running and panting ‘Jack’ who evidently has discharged the horse and, with his already bloody knife attacks another prostitute, murdering her as well.

I wonder if he’s panting also due to the shoot he got from Kikuta. He doesn’t seem to be blending though. On a sidenote our ‘Jack’ confirms himself to be left-handed. The first time he killed he used his left, he took care to… ‘charge his gun’ with his left and now he’s stabbing again this woman with his left.

It’s worth to point out that Japan at the time wasn’t a left-handed people friendly environment, with people being discriminated and people were afraid they wouldn’t get married if they were left handed and only from 1989 the percentage of children undergoing correction steadily began to drop -- although still around 60%... and it’s also worth to remember Japan isn’t the sole country which had bias against left-handed people.

I’ll quote Wikipedia on this just to give you a general idea as I find meaningful they even have a page devoted to this:

‘In many religions, including Christianity, the right hand of God is the favored hand. For example, Jesus sits at God's right side. God's left hand, however, is the hand of judgement. The Archangel Gabriel is sometimes called "God's left hand" and sits at God's left side. Those who fall from favor with God are sent to left, as described in Matthew 25: 32–33, in which sheep represent the righteous and goats represent the fallen: "And he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats. And he shall set the sheep on his right, but the goats on his left." In 19th-century Europe, homosexuals were referred to as "left-handed". In Protestant-majority parts of the United Kingdom, Catholics were called "left-footers", and vice versa in Catholic-majority parts of Ireland and Irish America. Black magic is sometimes referred to as the "left-hand path", which is strongly associated with Satanism.’ [Wikipedia: Bias against left-handed people]

… so, if ‘Jack’ is from another country there’s a huge chance he moved from an unfriendly environment to another.

It’s worth to mention that the original ‘Jack the Ripper’ was originally assumed to be left-handed when they speculated he would kill his victims standing in front of them. Later they figured out he first would render his victims unconscious by strangling them and then kill them while they were on the ground, likely positioning himself behind them so that blood wouldn’t fall on him.

So either our ‘Jack’ isn’t the original ‘Jack’ or Noda is constructing him according to earlier theories on his modus operandi (he doesn’t strangle, he kills the victim as she’s standing in front of himself, he uses his left hand).

Now, back to the story… I got the impression Kikuta managed to hit ‘Jack’ when he shoot him… but ‘Jack’ doesn’t seem to be leaving a trail of blood as he walks so it’s hard to say if he’s panting and running that way due to a wound whose bleeding he managed to stop or just due to fatigue.

It’s the day after.

Takuboku Ishikawa, our journalist working for Hijikata, is on one of the crime scenes,

still pesteringon details about the murder the weird policeman we met in chap 239 (remember him?)...

...while the latter is ignoring him. The policeman has the hat lowered on his eyes.

There’s another known face and it’s the photographer.

(Remember? He was there too and lol, in the exact some pose it looks as if Noda has copypasted him there.)

He doesn’t seem to be left-handed but since left-handed people were corrected, in everyday life ‘Jack’ probably can’t use his left hand so it might be useless to search for a left-handed guy using his left hand in a normal situation.

Everyone else among the bystanders seems to be a new guy... okay, maybe the old and partially bald guy might be the same in both pictures but I’m not sure. In this chapter he seems curious but, who knows, he might be a different character just drawn for background. Besides his hair seems too long to be ‘Jack’s’.

Well, to be honest there’s another guy who’s not a new guy but we’ll get to this in a moment.

Kikuta comments ‘Jack’ this time killed two women and wonders if he was just trying to create chaos to escape or was merely doing it to taunt them. According to ‘sperm detective Usami’ it can be just something he decided in advance.

It’s worth to mention the canonical victims of the original ripper were:

Mary Ann Nichols, found on the 31th of August 1888

Annie Chapman, found on the 8th of September 1888

Elizabeth Stride and Catherine Eddowes, both found on the 30th of September

Mary Jane Kelly, found on the 9th of November 1888

So yes, on his third murdering attempt Jack killed two women so we can speculate this is a copycat or, if he’s meant to be the real Jack, his backstory would include a reason to murder 2 women at his third attempt (in the real Jack’s case it was speculated he murdered 2 because he was interrupted during the murder of the first woman so it wasn’t planned).

Anyway Kikuta wonders if Jack will come back and how it’ll be troublesome for them to track him now that he has 4 ‘sacred places’.

However Kikuta now tells us something relevant. He managed to get a look at the side of his face… and at his dick. I hope he doesn’t plan to go demand people to show them to him so he could identify ‘Jack’…

Usami suggests they’ll go check the other crime scene so that Kikuta might try to spot him. Kikuta though, has spotted something else so he tells Usami to go ahead that that he’ll join him later.

What Kikuta has spotted is the ‘fail master of disguise’ Private First Class Ariko Rikimatsu, which starts sweating as hell as Kikuta speaks to him and who tells him not to turn around and that basically he could recognize the sexy bulky build of Ariko’s body everywhere.

Okay, Kikuta didn’t exactly said that but really, there are PLENTY of men with a bulky build so, unless Kikuta is a bulky build bodies expert, his words sounds a bit… unbelievable unless it’s Ariko’s bulky build body itself who’s special to him.

And anyway, really Ariko, don’t get so nervous. You fail at deceiving people it seems.

Kikuta says he never heard Tsurumi talking about Ariko being there so he asks him if he came there with Hijikata.

We don’t get to hear Ariko’s reply but it’s likely he confirmed it. Still it’s interesting it was cut as well as the fact Kikuta wanted to speak with Ariko away from Usami’s ears.

Did Kikuta want clarifications on why Ariko betrayed him? Or just make sure Usami won’t attack him again? Or has Kikuta his own plan?

We’ll see.

And is Ogata overlooking that meeting from somewhere? I bet he knows Ariko isn’t trustworthy so can it be he’s keeping tabs on him? Or is Hijikata who’s doing so? Or both?

Anyway the scene switches to the coast of the sea of Okhotsk…

and I find this interesting because we see that there’s a city there… but we aren’t given its name. As long as they weren’t Ainu villages Noda had always given us the names of the places in which the characters were from big cities to minor spots like, for example, the village of Fukagawa, regardless of them spending a lot of time on the place or just a chapter, like the coal mining town of Utashinai.

When this first happen in chap 225

I though it was because Tsurumi was on the move, from coastal city to another, although it really didn’t persuade me… and maybe it could also be Noda for some reason didn’t have material on that part of Hokkaido so the whole thing would be edited in the volume version with the name of the place. However quite a while has gone from chap 225 and we still don’t have an EXACT idea of where he is, not even through a map.

There are big cities on that coastal area, from Wakkanai, the city ship on which Asirpa rode was supposed to reach, to Okoppe to the well known Abashiri… but also various small cities.

They could have said he’s still in the Wakkanai area instead…

Is there a reason to leave us in the dark even when Tsurumi clearly is in Japanese cities?

Is it a Watsonian reason or a Doylist one?

Anyway Tsurumi informs his men he received a telegram from Kikuta (who therefore knew in which city he was and this means either Tsurumi warned him where to find him day by day or he’s not exactly moving around a lot).

He doesn’t tell us what Kikuta said but that he’ll only leave two men behind to continue searching for Asirpa (meaning he hadn’t figured she has long moved from the coastal area) and the rest will go with Tsurumi to Sapporo.

The final page shows both Tsurumi and Hijikata (who’s apparently outside the city looking at something… Ogata practicing with the rifle? Ariko secretly meeting with Kikuta? Sugimoto’s group ALSO coming to Sapporo?).

The implication seems to be that Ariko has tattled out Hijikata’s presence in Sapporo and Kikuta has relied the information to Tsurumi therefore Tsurumi plans to go there and have a faceoff with Hijikata.

Tsurumi didn’t see the need to move for just a convict but if it’s Hijikata, who might have the remaining tattooed skins as well as info... well, the thing becomes much more interesting.

So with everyone being or going to Sapporo, I wonder if Sofia (currently in Hokkaido), the candy seller convict (last time seen in Utashinai) and the still missing convict (whereabouts unknown) will also go there.

Only 3 more chapters are needed to end volume 24 but I wouldn’t dislike it if, before the end, Hijikata and Ogata were to have a chat. This volume showed us some of Sugimoto’s past.

More on Ogata’s past would also be appreciated but, if I’ve to be honest, I’m also looking forward to more info about Kikuta and about Kadokura.

When Hijikata finds the room in which Inudo kept all the material he had collected about him in his fangirlish obsession to get Hijikata, we can see on the wall a list of all the convicts that had been cellmates with Hijikata but also Kadokura’s name.

Or better ‘Kadokura Tanuki’ (門倉タヌキ), Tanuki being the nick Inudou gave to Kadokura.

Let’s start with this.

A Tanuki (狸 or タヌキ) is a Japanese folklore animal, commonly associated with the Japanese raccoon dog, which in folktales often played the part of foolish animal, often with really big testicles (that’s why Inudou said he pictured him as pathetic Tanuki with big balls in chap 118)… however if we compare it to the Kitsune (fox), which are the epitome of shape-changing animals, one saying is "the fox has seven disguises, the tanuki has eight (狐七化け、狸八化け)". The tanuki is thus superior to the fox in its disguises, but unlike the fox, which changes its form for the sake of tempting people, tanuki do so to fool people and make them seem stupid. Note that 8 is a lucky number, which might tied to how Kadokura is actually lucky. However it’s also worth to mention the kanji used to write Tanuki (prior to the linguistic reform of 1947) was "貍", and referred to all the middle sized mammals, especially to wild cats.

So… why all this rambling?

Well, not only Inudo didn’t write down Kadokura’s name, just the surname plus his nick but near Kadokura’s name there’s also written ‘real father’ and then what look like 4 kanji, none of them similar to the kanji used to write Kadokura’s surname.

So basically not only we don’t know Kadokura’s name but also Kadokura’s surname and we’re facing someone who, for association, is compared to an animal much more expert at disguising than the fox (Inkamart).

Now I wouldn’t question Kadokura’s loyalty to Hijikata. In vol 18 he was willing to die to save him. He also seems confident he’s unlucky… and he might have been forced to change surname because his father was on the losing side of the Boshin and therefore carrying his father’s surname would have been bad for him.

The point is if not even his surname is… well, his surname, Kadokura is a men shrouded in mystery, about whom we know nothing except he moved to Abashiri 7 years ago, with Sugimoto commenting he’d been looking over Nopperabou by 7 years… meaning he moved there when Nopperabou moved there (note that Asirpa said the gold incident happened 5 years before but then everyone when with the 7 year thing so maybe there was a retcon).

In short maybe this is all for fun and the truth behind Kadokura is nothing special… but it can also be there’s much more to him it looks like. We’ll see.

#Golden Kamuy #Usami Tokishige #Ariko Rikimatsu #Hijikata Toshizou #Tsurumi Tokushirou #Asirpa #Golden Kamuy Ramblings and Theories #Ishikawa Takuboku #Michael Ostrog #Kikuta Mokutarou

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grownups-are-the-real-monsters · 4 years ago

Text

C'est Si Bon

Summary: Jack frowned, going to sit on his windowsill with a bitter expression. His mind filled with pictures of a lost boy in the middle of a yellow brick road. Only, it was not the green pastures of Oz. No. It was the place where Jack somehow knew was called ‘The Territories’(?). The great & terrible.

The ‘dreams’ had stopped attempting to fade and now just stick to the vulnerable parts of Jack’s brain. He no longer felt the place was a dream. But a memory, yes. That was right. He only couldn’t tell Rational Richard...his best friend and...whatever it was they were to each other now.

Ships: Jack Sawyer/Richard Sloat

Word Count: 4,442

Tomato sauce coated Richard Sloat’s tongue in a disgustingly thick pile which slid uncomfortably down his throat.

Coming close to their Senior Year Winter Break was nice & all but who in their right mind wanted a pizza party served to them at eight o’clock in the morning? Classmates of theirs filled the room with laughter while ol’ Rich got his answer...

Jack Sawyer shoveled the triangle slices into his mouth, folded in the middle just the way he liked it. A mess of cheese & sauce squeezed out the sides but his best friend never stopped claiming that was the best way to eat it.

The mild stare was quickly caught by Jack’s travelin’ eyes that never seemed to be satisfied with their view. The smile he shot back pulled Richard Sloat back into a memory with a strong & muddy grip on his cold arm.

--Shooting daisy air rifles in Jack’s backyard while miss Lily Cavanaugh Sawyer prepared iced tea despite the cold weather. Richard had been so afraid he’d catch his death from the wet air but Jack’s breath flew over his shoulder in visible puffs...yeah, Jacky taught him how to shoot.--

The sly movement of Jack’s blunt pencil brought him out of old thoughts and into something a little more...uncomfortable. There were occasional slinky moods which came over Jack like waves of cool blue water.

They could strike him at any moment, it was never a picky type. Jack would just begin to roll his tongue in a low bounce that sounded like pop thundering into a fountain glass. ‘HollywoodLand Jack’. That was how Richard referred to his risky persona though it made his best friend feel sort of annoyed.

Jack slid his note across his desk and into Richard’s view.

‘I know all the lyrics to C'est Si Bon now.’ was smudged in pencil

Richard pushed his thin frames up his nose and shook his head, unwilling to participate. He kept his eyes forward on their teacher who was attempting to ease back into a lesson or two. He was quite sure Jack could be patient enough to wait for his trademark response of ‘that’s nice, Jack’.

But as he so often did these days, Jack pressed on.

His pencil danced once more across the paper. ‘Payin’ attention to me, sugar?’

Richard huffed quietly, he stole the pencil and wrote quickly so the teacher would not notice. 'Would you stop it, Jack?’

Jack Sawyer peered over Richard’s arm with an amused but loving grin. It said, ‘Oh Richard, you freak. Live forever.’ to anyone who listened. He did not write that in response however. No. Instead, he wrote; ‘Marry me!’ just for the sake of teasing.

Surprisingly, Richie whispered his response before the note was passed again. “If only you make me a widow quick, Jacky.” He rolled his eyes and faced forward again.

The Jacky boy laughed. 'You wouldn’t be a widow long, Chum.' He wrote carefully though he figured it was safe to speak anyway.

'You bet I wouldn’t.' Richard printed on the note carefully before handing it back, reluctantly. He was in the middle of writing ‘And don’t call me Chum!’ when their teacher called out to them, legs stretching before him.

“Mr. Sloat, Mr. Sawyer, I hope your note passing was important enough to interrupt our lesson.” He frowned, wrinkles forming around the old mouth. Anyone who thought serving pizza & trying to continue teaching at the same time was a bright idea...well they deserved to be interrupted.

Richard froze, dropping the pencil as he did so. Jack looked at him with pain and guilt which doubled at the next sentence.

“Would you like for me to read that important note out-loud?”

Jack, ever so quick with his loudmouth, tried to think of a response but found himself too late as the paper slipped out from Richard’s binder and into the hands of their old teacher.

An old, old man might still recognize flirting when he saw it behind thick frames. He may even share it with joy to embarrass two sorry closeted gay kids in his class.

His sunken eyes flickered over the words and crumpled the sheet. “Consider this your first and last warning. Everyone turn your books to-”

Jack stopped listening but heard the sad ‘aw’ sounds of the kids around them, sad to be missing a chance to embarrass their classmates. He was glad to have dodged that but he just knew Richard was likely going to be steamed...

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

“Of course I’m mad!” Richard wiggled his arms wildly as they walked towards the Sawyer household which had been housing ol’ Richie for some time since his father...passed away when they were twelve. “We could’ve been...exposed to our whole class.”

Weather-wise, it was a lovely sunny almost summer day. Jack clutched his books tighter and frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he’d-”

Richard shrugged. “I already forgave you so I suppose we don’t need to bicker about it anymore.” He huffed like that frustrated him before smiling softly at his friend next to him. “I suggest the notes need to stop. Might be good for your health.” He chuckled.

Jack bounced. “That a threat, Richie boy?” He pulled Richard’s arm.

“No. Just a thought. You should take care of yourself.”

“Why I think the little man does care!” Jack pulled him again and giggled.

“I don't care. It's just that I'm used to you, that's all.” Richard smirked and quickened his pace, hoping Jack would gallop on over to catch up.

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

Miss Lily, victim to a new & happy routine, was again gone out for tea in the hour just before her son came home from school.

Jack had encouraged his mother’s hesitant belief that she needed to get out more with something of a prideful yet relieved attitude.

Richard knew not to question his best friend on the topic, not only because he believed Jack to be correct to have hope for his mother starting to enjoy life again, but also because the topic of dreams almost always followed.

The young boys had been sharing a bedroom since Richard’s trouble left him homeless. And since their nightly routines joined, Jack had begun to mumble in his sleep. Strange things of his mother, werewolves and hell sometimes Richard’s name even slipped out ( Known as Richie to the sleepy Jack). Years of being the kind of best friends who breezed in-and-out of each other’s homes lead Richard to knowing this was a new development, most likely brought on by stress of his sickly mother falling ill & recovering so quickly together.

But Jack did not like to discuss that. So Richard tried not to bring it up anymore.

“Come on, Sugar. Time’s a wasting!” Jack smirked brightly and rushed towards their doorway.

“Slow down, Jacky.”

Jack came over a step or two & watched Richard pull a diet coke from the fridge. He sipped at the rim, eyes peering over his glasses with his own special innocence. He completely ignored Jack’s impatient stare.

He laid against the doorway like a TV cowboy. “Bring you & your coke over here, Richard.” He tilted his grin and chuckled.

Another sip & Richard finally strolled over, going right past him. He fought a blossoming blush as Jack smoothly kissed his cheek and stole the can for his own drink. “I am dying to make-out with you until we fall asleep, Chum.” He never did have a problem with voicing his feelings as of late.

Richard appreciated that in a sense but a bit of strange discomfort nipped at his skin. He licked his lips because he couldn’t realistically hold back his charmed reactions. “You make this so easy, Jacky.”

Jack swallowed a second drink and handed to coke back over with a genuinely curious expression. “What do I make easy?”

Richard shrugged and with a push of a button, the TV static revealed a half clear image of that actress Jack liked so much...Myrna Loy. “Liking you.” Was about the simplest and most correct way to put it.

His friend’s face melted...the sentiment apparently rendering him speechless. Richard tried not to take a selfish pride in that reaction but it was hard not to. He found himself giggling, popping up to his knees on the edge of the bed.

He threw his arms around Jack’s neck and continued laughing against his neck.

“It’s all about you, Richie baby.” Jack gently pulled Richard back and stroked under his chin, pressing a kiss against his temple. He then rested his own chin atop his friends hair and froze there for a moment or two.

There was obviously something on that creative mind of his which Richard craved to ask for. He always went about things like that the same way since the boys were tots. Curving back so he could look him in the eyes, he gave him an old look.

Jack pulled away. “I wish you’d keep that mouth of yours closed, buddy.” He said, no venom in his tone at all. Just a sad...and sort of content(?) sounding sigh.

Richard leaned back on his palms and smiled. “Are you still dreaming?”

Jack frowned, going to sit on his windowsill with a bitter expression. His mind filled with pictures of a lost boy in the middle of a yellow brick road. Only, it was not the green pastures of Oz. No. It was the place where Jack somehow knew was called ‘The Territories’(?). The great & terrible.

The ‘dreams’ had stopped attempting to fade and now just stick to the vulnerable parts of Jack’s brain. He no longer felt the place was a dream. But a memory, yes. That was right.

He only couldn’t tell Rational Richard...his best friend and...whatever it was they were to each other now.

“Bad dreams?” Richard questioned farther.

“C’est Si Bon.” Jack answered smugly and hopped onto the bed, deciding to be chummy again. “So nothing to worry about.” He sat next to him and brushed some of his featherlight hair from his face.

Richard opened his mouth but it fell shut when Miss Lily Sawyer could be heard coming into the living room. Jack slouched against him, head resting on his shoulder with a mixture of expectance and disappointment.

“So long HollywoodLand Jack.” Richard mumbled quietly, pushing his glasses back up and kissing Jack’s cheek as he sat up.

Jack huffed but smiled nonetheless. He attacked Richard’s cheek and neck with kisses.

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

For the first time in a long while, Richard dreamed of his Father among other things.

Not nice dreams.

‘The closet with the folding doors...his daddy going inside and not coming out. No matter how long he called for him...’ Richard stirred in his bed which went unnoticed to his sleeping friend on the other side of the room.

‘Shooting daisy air rifles--yeah, Jacky taught him how to shoot.’ Richard let out a whimper. ‘Richard was there in full-body now. A small degree of a fever burned under his skin--Jacky was teaching him how to shoot in the closet. They were in there together.’

He shot up in his bed, sweat pouring down from his temples. The wide world of unfamiliar beauty had almost been painted behind his eyelids for a moment there. He hardly was aware of the scene his waking up had been until he glanced up to see the concerned face of miss Lily.

Her beautiful face was close by as she knelt on the carpet, robe pooling at her knees. He wanted to cry. Cry for his lost daddy but knew with all his heart that he very well couldn’t do that. Especially with Lilly Sawyer just there next to his bed.

“My word.” She smiled gently. “You were just about inches from plopping onto this old carpet.” Their relationship hadn’t been all sunshine & rainbows considering what old Morgan Sloat had done to her & her family. But credit to Miss Lily. She always treated him kindly.

“I’m sorry for waking you, Mrs. Sawyer.” He frowned, blinking into the dark room. She shook her head and set down a glass of water onto his nightstand.

“I was already up. Drink some and go back to sleep, will you?” She tapped the glass and looked onto him with what might’ve been fondness.

And just like that, she was gone from the room.

Richard slurped down the water, attempting to slow down before he gave himself the hiccups. He was about to settle in for sleep again when Jack padded over, pajama pants a bit long for him. Richard wasn’t quite sure when the boy had woke.

He sat down next to him and looked down with a curious expression. It was nothing like any of his usual faces which unsettled Richard immensely. He shuffled closer and rested his cheek against Jack’s arm.

“I’m sorry, Sugar.” Jack mumbled, shifting down so they could lay face-to-face instead. Richard simply hummed.

“Just bad dreams, Jack.” He blinked his eyes closed, long lashes free from behind his glasses, and nearly drifted again.

His partner just continued to frown, drifting closer. “I hope you can remember the time I fell in love with you, Richard.” Jack spoke so softly that Richard barely heard. He figured he really wasn’t supposed to hear that. Jack thought he’d gone back to rest. “When and where.” An afterthought, he spoke aloud.

Jack kissed his temple and returned to his own bed.

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

Myrna Loy was on the cheap TV again the next Saturday morning. Jack watched her move about William Powell as he shoveled dusty cereal into his mouth. He’d even picked up Richard’s habit, no milk but still using a spoon.

“G’Morning.” Jack mumbled into his bowl.

Richard could tell from the missing keys on the hook by the door that Miss Lilly had left, he hoped she was treating herself to a quiet breakfast. So he slowly started on his toast, kissing the top of Jack’s head for a greeting.

“I want to talk about us-”

“Can I ask you about your dream last night-?”

The boys spoke at the same time, not unlike them at all, but felt a flicker of pre-tension. Richard frowned. He didn’t want to talk about the useless dream, he knew he was a big fat hypocrite but there really was no point in chatting about something probably induced by a heavy dinner or stress. “It was a nightmare. About my dad.” He shrugged. “It’s nearing his Birthday, now that I think about it. That’s probably why.” He rolled his lips together and forced tears back in.

Jack gently took his hand and rubbed circles on his skin. “Any other details you remember-?”

Richard ripped his hand away and scuffed, moving to the other side of the kitchen area. “I don’t know, Jack. What does it matter anyway?” His eyes narrowed.

Jack shrunk back but kept a stoic expression. “I just want to talk about it, Richard.” His tongue clicked. “You always want to talk about mine-”

“Yeah! But that’s because I can help you figure out the real reasons for your dreams.” He finally pushed his glasses (which had been hooked onto his sleep shirt) onto his face. “I fear for how you might encourage my odd dreams.”

Jack groaned. He took slight offense at the comment. “I’m not insane.” His friend frowned, clasping a coffee mug close to his chest.

The room was silent for another twenty minutes or so while Richard finished making his neatly plated breakfast and sat across the counter. “I still want to talk about us.”

Jack blinked up at him and then...shrugged. As if to say; ‘Go ahead but I’m still pissed. Might even win this argument because of it.’

“You love me?” Richard hated the phrasing of his question. It made him sound childish but...he felt as nervous ever. “As in...in love...you know? Are you in love with me? That’s what I mean.” He was embarrassed that he lost his ability to articulate.

Jack wanted to be angry still. That much could be seen in his initial expression but it melted shortly after. His cheeks flushed a light red color. “Yeah. Of course I am.”

‘Not thinking, Jack came back in for a moment and kissed Richard’s cheek. Richard put his arms around Jack’s neck for a moment and hugged fiercely. Then he let Jack go. Neither of them said anything.’

Richard felt that spike of memory hit the middle of his forehead and he squinted from sheer pressure. “What did you mean then? Last night? When & where?”

“Are you sure you want to hear about that, Sugar? Might encourage your odd dreams.” Jack went back to pissed rather quickly from smitten. Richard felt a pang of guilt. He rolled his lips together and sighed. “If you know, you know-” He started, leaning over the counter to claim some of Richard’s body heat.

“What does that mean-?”

Jack chuckled. “It means...maybe one day, you’ll remember. I hope so. But-” He cut himself off and tilted his half-grin.

‘And you won’t always be reminding me? You know...jogging my memory?’

‘Not if you want to forget.’

‘I do, Jack. I really do.’

Jack shook his head. “I don’t know that I should just keep reminding you.” He felt a sudden burst of dizziness and fell back on the seat of his fading jeans.

Richard took a deflated bite of toast. “You make me happy, Jack.” He swallowed, speaking earnestly. His buddy had a way of telling if he wasn’t.

Jack’s face came over with another beautiful smile. “Just the four words I wanted to hear, Richie.” He reached over, wiped a crumb from his friend’s lip and kissed him softly.

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

Outside the crystal clear windows, flakes of snow danced through the air and pelted the ground. Jack Sawyer’s mind nearly recalled every bit of his twelve year old self’s adventure. There was an odd bit of a mourning period after the most of it rained down on him. The Territories seemed so close yet so far out from his reach.

He folded the laundry and kept himself entertained with a thin novel, cracked open in his free hand. Richard was working on a fresh pot of coffee and his mother was in her morning shower.

Though, Richard came from the kitchen in mere seconds with his light-blue mug clutched in a steady hand; which he then used to turn the knob on the Television down. Jack watched him settle gracefully on the carpet with a smile. He folded one of his shirts and took it upon himself to start singing ‘Love & Marriage’ quietly...

Richard peeked up at him with an amused smirk. “Who are you saving that lovely singing voice for? Your actress...” He raised a brow and sipped his coffee. He tipped his chin to yet another Myrna Loy movie playing on the screen.

Jack smiled. “Not my type.”

“You have a type?” He chuckled.

“Only you, Sugar.” Jack threw another shirt into the basket. “A Lanky brunette with attitude.” He winked and enjoyed the way Richard rolled his fond eyes. He crawled onto the floor next to him and kissed his cheek over & over.

Richard chuckled and pretended he didn’t love the soft attention. He curled closer after a few seconds of gently swatting him away. Once he was basically between Jack’s legs & leaning on his chest, he sighed.

Jack hugged his boy a little tighter and heard himself speak in his head. ‘I’m going to take care of you Richard. You’re the herd now.’ Air just barely made it past his lips as they thinned together, nestling his face into Richard’s hair.

A second voice spoke in a nasty tone. ‘Do you know what the bible says about homosexuality, Jack? Well, all boys are bad. It’s axiomatic.’

The door to the bathroom flew open & just like that, his old chum jumped back onto the couch. It left a cold feeling of disappointment deep in Jack’s gut while he watched Richard straighten himself out.

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

Failing to start his car in the middle of the movie rental parking lot was where Jack began to realize he was genuinely worrying for Richard for the first time in a few years.

His chum was curled up on the hood of the old car, sneakers flat on the metal as his knees curled up to his chin. The sun gave his skin a shiny glaze which was reminiscent of the old days they’d used to spend playing at the park. But the chill was unmistakable.

Rich was in the thick pine green sweater that Jack simply adored because it was like cuddling with a pillow.

‘I want to be awake, Jack. I don’t want to have this dream anymore. No. I don’t want to.’

Jack stuck his head out the window and enjoyed the view he was gifted for the few seconds he had left. Richard turning to look back at him with the pale winter sun shining on the roads behind him. “Are you still having those dreams?” He dared to ask.

Richard frowned, legs sliding down the hood. “Yeah. But things pass as time goes by.” He looked as if he knew that answer would only disappoint Jack. He shook his head. “Where did you get these ideas about my dreams being...real?”

With the inflection on that question, Jack was positive now that Richard remembered his time with Travelin’ Jack & the Territories. He was just masking it as he’d done when it was a current event in his life.

Richie knew Jack knew this too. But hell if he’d admit to it.

Jack rolled his eyes and stood from his seat, shutting the car door behind him. “I don’t want to fight about this, Chum.” He spoke earnestly, sounding a bit like a black-and-white film star. “I just want to know if you’re hurting at all?”

“I was.” He tilted his head. “Most of them were nightmares about my dad...or me getting hurt badly.”

Jack tried not to picture those gray moments where Richard had been grotesquely injured in the Territories.

Richard’s eyelids fluttered from the weight of a long afternoon. “But some...” He leaned into Jack just the slightest. “Are you & I speaking of how we love the other before going on another leg of some journey. Those ones are nice.” He nodded.

Richard, who’s eyelashes were short but his eyes were huge, looked up at Jack with so much love in that moment that Jack might’ve swept him into a long movie kiss if they weren’t in public. “Maybe I don’t remember a lot about the where, Jack.” (He remembered more each night) “Hell, maybe I don’t even want to-” (he didn’t) “But I love you. So much and so seriously.” (He did. More than he ever loved anyone.)

Jake softened, opening his mouth-

“I just don’t like thinking about that time.” Tears started to fall down Richard’s cheeks.

“But you admit...?”

He swallowed something thick and nodded with annoyance. “It happened. I know that.” He looked Jacky in the eyes. “But I don’t want to remember it because it scared me. Badly. What my dad did...”

He shook his head. “I hate him. But when I think back about that time in my life...when you came in through the Thayer window. Well, I remember how I used to love him. I don’t want to give his memory that satisfaction. And I sure as hell don’t want to live through the heartbreak again.”

Jack glanced up at him and almost died of fright. For when he looked up, he briefly saw... ‘Richard’s poor, tired face was covered with running blood...He could see the naked gleam of Richard Sloat’s skull’

“I’m sorry, sugar. I’m so sorry-” Jack rushed forward, momentarily forgetting they were definitely in a public area, and kissed his boyfriend over-and-over.

Richard hummed. “It’s ok...” the hum turned into a chuckle. “Jack? Jacky? C’mon before people stare. Or throw shit.” He patted his back and smiled when Jack pulled away. “I’m sorry I can’t remember some if it as fondly as you can. But just know that I’m so amazed by you for what you did. And I’ll gladly hear more of your Wolf stories anytime.” He pushed some of Jack’s sweaty hair back.

Jack positively glowed. “You remember me telling you about Wolf?”

Richard nodded. “I wish I got to meet him.”

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

Lilly fixed the boys some hot tea before bed & told them earnestly that she knew. She knew about them being together & for a while. It’d shocked Richard to no end but Jack just grinned. So, so happy to have his mother in his life. So thankful for the chance to save her.

She said her goodnights and headed off for bed.

So Jack figured he’d gotten a gentle permission to lay in bed with Richard...at least until he fell asleep. Then he’d move to his own bed again & give his boyfriend some space.

He laid there next to him, brushing his hair back and enjoying Richard’s quiet ramblings.

“I’m sorry if I...” He started. “If I worry too much. I know I have a lot of anxiety and that can be difficult to deal with.” Richard mumbled as Jack softly removed his glasses for him.

“Don’t apologize, Chum.” He kissed Richard’s nose when it wrinkled at the nickname. “I know that there are people who might think that’s a bad thing about you...but I get it. And I love you for it.” He leaned down to kiss him.

Jack chuckled at his own sudden nerves. “I don’t want you to ever end up with someone who makes you feel bad about yourself...who would want you to be more of a ‘normal type person’ or some shit.” He felt an odd bunch of tears start to drown his eyes. “Who wouldn’t know to leave your greatness alone. Ok? So I just want to say that I can do that for you...for the rest of your life, if you wanted.”

Richard pushed himself up to a sitting position and was dead silent for a few seconds. “We can’t get married, Jacky.”

Jack grinned and nodded his head. “I know. But I think maybe one day we’ll be able to. Would you like that?”

Richard wiped his cheeks with his sleeve and giggled. “Yeah! I would. You dork.” He smashed their lips together and enjoyed the way they melted together.

They laid together just long enough to hear ‘C’est Si Bon’ play on Jack’s record player 1 time and then were off to sleep...

#richard sloat is one of my soul characters #i love him so much #jack sawyer #richard sloat #richard/jack #The Talisman #my fanfiction #stephen king #peter straub

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nunonabun · 5 years ago

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If you don't mind answer (Since I'm loving you digging into other answers you give!) What do you think about the show's seemingly Anti-Adoption standpoint? Even when it's for the best interest of the child, or the mother's insistent on it, they seem to do everything they can to convince the mother otherwise. Even when the mother couldn't afford the child at all, and had a home lined up for them, they talked her out of it.

Thank you for the question! Sorry it’s taken me so long to reply to, I wanted to attempt a thorough answer but I had a lot going on, so it got a tad forgotten in the drafts.

Your ask is quite a toughie. I don’t know that I’d actually characterize the show as having an anti-adoption viewpoint, I think the show is often trying to be conscious of the way class and other social structures interacted with the adoption system at the time, while also trying to deal with other issues adoption raises. I think sometimes they do well with that, but sometimes, while trying to shine a light on one thing, they manage to fall into other biases. I’ll put the rest under a ‘read more’ as this did get a biiiit long.

Class had (and has, really) a big role in adoption, and views of who “deserved” to be a parent often had harmful impacts. It’s a complicated and difficult subject, and there are lots of factors that can come into play in each case, but shame and other pressures were often usedto essentially force poor and/or single mothers to give up children. Some children were outright taken from the biological mother (or couple, in some cases, though overwhelmingly judgement landed on single women) that wanted them and were trying to keep them. The choice wasn’t really a free choice as they often weren’t given the support they would need in order to make keeping the child a viable option for them, nor were they given support in thoroughly thinking through all of their options and deciding what they truly want. Also, young, single, working-class women were generally condemned for becoming pregnant and were often pressured to give the child up so that they could be given to a ‘better’ family (i.e. middle-class straight couple. Having a British background & being Christian did also come into it).

Another aspect of portraying adoption is contending with the bias that a ‘real’ family is biological; that there’s some kind of innate bond between people who are biologically linked that is not present between those who aren’t (I’m going to call this the ‘biology bias’ for convenience’s sake). The elements of classism and biology bias (and bias against single parents, homophobia, racism, etc.) can interact in complex ways. Trying to realistically portray negative aspects of the adoption system that aren’t often talked about can result inseemingly playing into the ‘child should stay with their real family’ prejudice. Or it can both critique the class bias and buy into the biology bias. The latter case often takes the form of ‘well I guess the adoptive couple is providing a promising future for the child, it’s just a shame that it comes at the cost of a deeper/truer love, as the child would have had with the bio family’ in media portrayals. Or sometimes the inverse can happen (undercutting the biology bias but accepting the class bias) and you get an attribution of blame instead of an examination of how people are constrained by their situations in a way that couldbe resolved with good social supports, à la ‘those (lower-income) people were just bad parents who don’t deserve a child, the child should be given to a good (middle-class) couple.’ And plenty of other complex issues arise when the axes of race & nationality, physical & mental differences, gender, etc. come into play. It’s really a hard thing to navigate and communicate all of the elements that are wrapped up in adoption, and I’d say portrayals are often in the grey zone.

To disentangle the elements in CtM’s portrayals of adoption, I’m going togo ahead and take a little look at all of the examples of adoption in the show and try to examine what they’re aiming for and what I think they convey. Please feel free to point out if I’ve missed one or if you think I’ve missed elements of one portrayal or have misconstrued things. Strap in guys, this is hecking long. Or jump down to the Tl;dr, that’s fine too.

First, in 1x02, we have Mary, the Irish girl who came to London, was taken advantage of and pressured into prostitution and became pregnant. Jenny tries to help her, but as she is single, poor, still a child herself, and a prostitute, the child is removed from Mary (and in episode 4 we discover that that has seriously mentally scarred her, resulting in her taking someone else’s child in an attempt to regain what was taken from her.) Here we see pretty much exactly what I was talking about above. Society saw Mary as morally unfit (as being poor, a prostitute, and single & pregnant were judged to be personal failures/sins, and there was additional prejudice against Irish people), so there was no safety net for her, no public services provided so that she, even as poor and young as she was, could realistically raise the child if she wanted to. You could say it might be unjust to leave the child with Mary, given her circumstances, but I think CtM is showing that her circumstances didn’t have to be what they were. If she wasn’t judged so on a moral basis, she wouldn’t be condemned to continue in those circumstances and she wouldn’t have had her child taken from her against her will. If she had been given a free choice and support in making it and carrying it out, she may have kept the child or she may have given it up, but either way, the outcome for Mary wouldn’t have been as terrible as it was.

The second case we see is Doris Aston, in 3x02. Doris is married and has a few children already, and reveals that her current pregnancy is likely the result of an affair with a black man. Obviously, her husband (who is white) will know she was unfaithful when the child is born, and she and the child will be at risk as her husband is abusive (it’s revealed throughout the episode that he is controlling and aggressive, even prior to learning of his wife’s infidelity.) In the end, the child (who Doris names Carole) is taken out of the house, with the husband threatening to kill Carole if she remains. Carole is taken to the Turners’ to foster and then sent on to her middle-class adoptive family.This episode is meant to shine a light on another pressure that results in women not having a free choice in life, particularly around sexuality and children. Divorce was heavily stigmatizedat the time, and it wasn’t easy for a woman to get a divorce from her husband if he didn’t agree to it, especially if the couple already had children together. Therefore, if a woman was unhappy in a marriage, or even suffering abuse, there wasn’t much recourse for her. Yes, in this situation Doris did cheat, but the circumstances of that are complicated. What’s more, as a result of it, she doesn’t really have a free choice in whether to keep her daughter (and sons) and leave her husband (which she wanted) or stay and work it out either with or without Carole. The only real choice she has is to give the child up and hope her husband a) doesn’t find and hurt the baby, b) isn’t violent towards her as a result of him learning about her infidelity, and c) that she can bury her emotions around Carole and essentially pretend she never existed/died at birth. So the episode is seeking to portray the way women, especially working-class women, were unjustly constrained; forced into choices they would not freely have made. Race is touched on only briefly, in that it’s the element that renders Doris’ infidelity evident, and also a mixed-race child is more difficult to place within the adoption system. This isn’t really explored much, as Carole is quickly adopted and we don’t actually really see how her being mixed affects this.An element of this episode that I think they mishandled was buying into the ‘true family is bio family’ prejudice via their attempt to portray the injustice Doris faced and sympathize with her. This mainly comes in near the end of the episode, where they reinforce the idea that Doris is Carole’s ‘real’ mother. Doris herself worries that Carole “won’t know I’m her mother,” and Sister Julienne says “If Carole searches for her mother one day, hopefully records will bring her to us,” Here I think the norm of just saying “mother” as though the adoptive mother Carole will have isn’t really her mother, is partially just because they’re showing that Doris does feel she is Carole’s mother and doesn’t actually want to give her up, however it does play into the biology bias. This is deeply reinforced when Vanessa Redgrave chimes in with a “[Doris] trusted in God that Carole would have a good life with good people who would give her the future she couldn’t. More than anything, she wished she could have kept her because whatever anyone else might feel, it couldn’t be what Doris felt. Her daughter was of and from her. They were a part of each other and always would be.” That could generously be interpreted as Mature Jenny just conveying what Doris believed, but even so, there’s a heavy narrative buy-in to that message, and the message is clearly ‘Doris wanted to keep her daughter and ought not to have been forced to give her up. Biology and gestation result in an inherent, unbreakable bond that cannot be replicated and it is therefore regrettable that Carole had to be given to a family that - though financially secure, potentially kind, and distant from the threat of violence - lack that bond.’ That message again seeks to convey the injustice of Doris’s situation and sympathize with her pain, but in doing so, it implies that adoptive families lack this deep, automatic bond forged via biology and are therefore inherently weaker. They may provide a more materially promising future for the child, but unfortunately, they aren’t as ‘true’ a family as a biologically linked one.Furthermore, Jenny says “[The adoption agency worker] spoke as though Doris had no link at all with her baby,” and notes that the adoptive parents requested no ongoing contact. These elements reinforce the portrayal of the adoption as cold and insufficiently recognizant of how the baby is ‘actually’ the biological mother’s. This bit is difficult, as Carole is not not Doris’s, and it’s totally fair for Doris to grieve for the loss of her daughter. Also, cutting off contact, not allowing any connection at all to the child’s birth family was commonly done and can be a very harmful practice. The adoption agency (and society at large) certainly thought Doris had no moral right to see Carole, as she chose to have an affair and is therefore a Bad Woman and a Bad Mother, and that is justly critiqued by the show. But I think, in this episode, the show is rather clumsy in its portrayal of this complex situation, and manages to imply that the adoptive family (and mother in particular) are kind of interlopers who are only a solution to a problem as opposed to being a potentially very loving family that is just as true of a family as a biological one. Where this reading is a bit shaken is that this is the start of the foreshadowing that the Turners will end up adopting a child, and their fostering of Carole for the night before she is adopted is shown in a very positive light. The whole scene is loving and sweet, and positive comments are made about Carole’s adoption (though sympathy is also extended to Doris.) So it’s a bit of a mixed bag, this episode. Overall I think that it does a good job with the class and sexism elements, but a poor job with handling the biology bias.

The third time adoption is portrayed (3x06), it’s more of a subplot that serves to introduce Shelagh and Patrick to the idea that adoption could be the answer to their desire to expand their family. Colin Monk, Tim’s friend, is revealed to be adopted. Learning this immediately prompts Shelagh to propose that she & Patrick pursue adoption to continue building their family. She comments: “I really don’t believe I’d have to carry a child inside my body for it to feel like ours. If I felt that, it would mean that loving Timothy has taught me nothing.” This is a firm rebuttal of the biology bias and it nicely links step and adoptive families, explicitly espousing a positive perspective on both.The episode does touch on the class & religious aspects too. Shelagh says that the adoption charity she went to was the Church of England Childrens’ Society, and notes: “I think they quite like the idea of us, a GP and a retired midwife. (…) As the lady [at the adoption agency] said, the children have already got off to a sorry start in life, they need the very best parents the agency can find them.” So, again, the show is bringing up the normative judgements around parenting, and the idea that a (straight) professional couple where the mother stays home is deemed morally deserving of children.The end of this episode also sees Patrick getting antsy about the conditions of adoption, correctly foreseeing that (in 3x07) his mental health struggles will cause the agency to deem him less deserving of a child (so here’s ableism coming in to play too.)Overall, I think these episodes did a good job with the adoption plot. They push back against the biology bias while also subtly highlighting who is deemed socially worthy of children in terms of class and health.

Fourth there’s 3x08, wherein the Turners adopt Angela. Here, the portrayal is overwhelmingly positive, with pretty much all of our excitement and sympathies going to the Turners, who are meeting their daughter for the first time. They’re excited about the news that they’re going to become parents in much the same way we see people on the show excited about an impending birth. Holding Angela for the first time (particularly with respect to Shelagh) is treated as having as much weight and love as any parent being handed their biological baby. Particularly, In The Mirror plays, a musical theme that has been used to score previous momentous transformations in Shelagh’s life (and Patrick’s, as those changes are often linked), Patrick says “here’s your mummy,” and Shelagh says “we have a daughter.” For me, that is slightly undercut by Shelagh saying “This is the closest I’m ever going to get to giving birth.” This implies that the experience is kind of a consolation prize, as close as they can get to what they’d ideally want; for Shelagh to carry and give birth to a child that is biologically theirs. I don’t think that’s necessarily what they meant to imply - especially given all the talk before and in later episodes about loving Angela as much as if she were biologically theirs - but that’s how that line read to me. But again, that is largely overwhelmed by the positive tone and emotions portrayed in that scene.Switching into the consideration of the other end of the equation, the biological mother, we have a very interesting choice to comment on the deeply uncomfortable situation that led to Angela becoming a Turner. When Patrick asks what she knows about the situation, Shelagh says: “Hardly anything, just that the mother is only 16 and she was meant to be taking the baby home with her, but at the last minute her parents changed their minds.” Timothy, always involved in the family building (another strong element of the portrayal) says “That’s terrible,” and Patrick reprimands him with a slightly curt “Tim.” Shelagh says, “That’s why they want a speedy settlement, to spare further trauma for those involved.” We, the viewers, are excited and happy about the Turners adopting, and then we’re hit with this slight insight into the other side of the equation. Though “our” family is getting its happy outcome, that results from a terrible thing having happened to a young, single girl (‘Miss Jones’.) We don’t know the class differential here, so there’s not much to work with, analysis-wise, on that front. Here, it’s more that Miss Jones doesn’t really have the option to contradict her parents in this society, which results in her being forced to give up the child she wanted to keep. So again the show highlights the lack of choice women (and girls) had, and hints at the moral judgements around who is worthy of being supported in their parenting project. Interestingly, this actually puts Shelagh (and Patrick, to some degree, though the whole plot really focusses more on Shelagh’s motherhood, which is a whole other discussion) a bit in the moral grey, as her (their) desire to have a child causes them to kind of callously brush past the injustice their daughter’s biological mother faced. Though that is slightly tempered by Shelagh noting that it’s felt that doing this all quickly is the least traumatic option, having her convey this information as they’re all rushing to pick up Angela really gets across how the injustices on the bio mother’s side of the picture just kind of get glossed over in the focus on joy of the adoptive family. We don’t take that bit more time to consider what actually results in the best outcome for all involved. That’s an interesting counterpoint to 3x02, where the adoptive family’s love and joy is glossed over by our focus on the sorrow and pain of Doris Aston. I would say though that 3x08 does a bit better at integrating all these elements, as the hurried discussion of the bio mother is, I think, clearly meant to bring us up short and make us consider that there are elements of injustice in this situation, whereas 3x02 doesn’t really give us much positive about the adoptive family. The following episode does give us some balance too, showing the Turners worrying about Angela’s biological mother while still clearly maintaining that Angela is as loved as she would be if she was biologically theirs. Shelagh and Patrick reflect on this together and with Timothy, and the ensemble decision is to send a letter to Angela’s biological mother (though administrative structures make it uncertain that the letter will reach her), giving her some closure as to what happened to the child she gave up. This serves to send the message that communication in the process of family-building is important, while also remaining grounded in a time where it was generally held that the best thing to do in an emotionally difficult situation was to not talk about it.

In the following episode, the Christmas special, we get the mother and baby home, which switches gear firmly into focussing on the judgement placed on unmarried women who become pregnant (especially young women) and the abuses these women (and girls) faced in the institutions they were sent to. First, there’s the fact that these institutions existed, largely tucked away to reinforce that falling pregnant outside of marriage is shameful and needs to be hidden. Then there’s the medical neglect within the home, the only staff being the Nonnatus volunteers and the drunken matron who runs the place. We see one case briefly where a baby is basically ripped from a young woman/girl who was not yet ready to say goodbye. Of our two main cases, we have one woman who decided to keep the baby though she was initially aloof and uncaring, and one who was totally comfortable giving the baby up and does so. I think a strong point of the episode was pointing out that whole Mother & Baby Home system is a result of and in many ways a reinforcement of the shaming and punishment of young, often poor, unmarried mothers for what was deemed a personal failing. We see this explicitly with Tim’s comment about “moral contagion,” wherein he’s voicing/testing out/subtly criticizing the mainstream view of the time. In England at the time, society operated on the idea that treating these women like any other pregnant women would be endorsing their sin/personal failing, and that would lead to a whole epidemic of this sort of thing, which would obviously be bad. So the episode as a whole is bringing that to light and critiquing it and the actions that resulted from it.On to the two main cases. One is a young woman/girl who decides to give her bio son up for adoption, saying that she’s happy to think that he’ll have a good life with people who love and want him and it’s the right choice for both of them. She is shown to have a supportive mother, indicating that sometimes, the choice was freer. The narrative is telling us that there were cases where - in spite of wider social prejudice against unmarried mothers - keeping the child would have been a viable option, but the bio mother decided that wasn’t what she wanted/what she judged to be the best outcome of the situation, and this is a perfectly fine choice to make.My feelings on the portrayal of the other young woman/girl are a bit more mixed. On the one hand, yes sometimes someone is totally set on giving up a child but their mind changes when confronted by the reality of the newborn. However, this storyline is a bit of an iffy trope and I think using it requires some delicacy. It’s very easy to fall into the ‘it’s your child and you will and ought to have a unique, automatic bond with it,’ which places a judgement on women who don’t automatically feel that bond, whether or not they want that child and whether or not they ultimately decide to keep that child. That normative view of bonding downplays the work that goes into bonding with a child and implicitly judges those whose bond is not automatic, as well as implying that there is a sort of bond that is exclusive to the person who gives birth to the child. On the plus side, that storyline directly contradicts the idea that these young women/girls don’t deserve to be mothers, and that is a point in its favour.On the whole, though I disagree with the ‘automatic bond’ portion of the one storyline, the episode benefits from having multiple storylines highlighting different elements within the overall focus on pregnant, unmarried young women/girls and the injustices they suffered as a result of sexism.

Sixth, we get the case of Marnie Wallace and Dot (and Eugene) Spenlow. Marnie and Dot are cousins, the former is poor, the latter is more middle-class. Marnie is pregnant and her husband has died fairly recently. She’s struggling with how she’s going to provide for this child as well as the children she already has. The main option is to give the child to Dot and her husband, who very much want a child but cannot have one biologically. This gets uncomfortable as Dot offers Marnie financial support on the condition that Marnie gives them the baby when it’s born. Marnie does this but is clearly unhappy about it. When we see Dot and Eugene with the baby, they seem fairly uncomfortable with caring for it/aren’t going about it as Marnie would, though they are happy. Marnie decides she can’t live with this and takes the baby back, and though Dot and Eugene are upset, they come to accept this and give her all the stuff they bought for the baby. I’m not entirely sure what the episode was going for. There’s the theme of poor women being forced to give up children out of financial necessity (lack of resources & support made available to them), and there’s the theme of family pressuring a woman to make certain decisions about her children. I think they were trying to highlight class dynamics, and that resulted in the episode portraying a more middle-class part of a family directly preying on a poorer family member and taking her child. My discomfort with that (and I think it’s a discomfort that many viewers had) is not around Marnie not deserving to have the support she needs to raise a child that she truly wants. Portraying class struggles has always been an important element of this show and a praiseworthy one. The reason this episode drew some criticism (at least, on tumblr), I think, is that the portrayal of the couple who cannot biologically have children feels malicious. It feels like the message being sent is that there’s something virtuous about being able to have children even when you “have nothing but love,” whereas the barren couple is materialistic, not naturally good at parenting like someone who can bear children and inherently unable to provide the love that the bio mum could give the baby. That Dot practically bribes Marnie to give her the baby borders on a caricature and makes me question why it was written this way, as opposed to, say, having Dot and Eugene being portrayed more sympathetically (i.e. not bribing Marnie, offering her help) and perhaps having Marnie struggle to communicate with them that she feels pressured into a choice that she’s not comfortable with. While the situation that was portrayed isn’t wildly out there in terms of things that could and probably do happen within families, the predatory portrayal of the Spenlows seems to condemn them for being unable to have children that are biologically theirs. And that’s not a super great message to send.Oh yeah, and Tom has some feelings about the fact that he was adopted. That part of the episode felt quite tacked on. I think they were trying to communicate that a person who was adopted may have complicated feelings about the circumstances leading to their adoption when they grow up. How do you process a situation in which your biological mother was forced to give you up, but you love and were & are very happy with your adoptive family? What if you just don’t know the circumstances in which you were given up but fear they were traumatic for your biological mother/family? I think those are all very good questions to explore and I would love to see the show do a good job of exploring them. This episode wasn’t it. Putting Tom questioning those things against the backdrop of Marnie and Dot, the negative message of their story casts a shadow over those questions such that, instead of really exploring them, you’re left with the feeling that the show is saying ‘yeah, that was probably a bad thing that you weren’t raised in your biological family.’ I think they tried to provide balance to this by having Tom maintain that he loved his family and had a very normal childhood and he didn’t even think about the fact of his adoption, but I don’t think it worked. I also think that positioning ‘I didn’t even question that I was adopted and never thought about the circumstances of my birth & bio parents’ as the sign of a positive outcome of adoption is problematic. A person can be curious about and care about their bio family and the circumstances that led to their adoption without that being a slap in the face of their adoptive family or a sign that they were/are unhappy/unsatisfied with their adoptive family. Overall, though there were a few good elements to this episode… it was a bit of a trainwreck.

Seventh, there’s the 2018 Christmas Special. In this episode, we get the case of Anthea (Tillerson) Sweeting, who was abused by her father throughout her life and was then turned out by her family when she became pregnant as a result of the abuse. She subsequently formed a family of her own composed of some children who are biologically hers, as well as some who are adopted and some who she (and her husband) are fostering. There is also the case of Linda & Selwyn, a couple living in a caravan who are preparing for the birth of a baby who is not biologically Selwyn’s. Their arc largely involves Linda escaping the cycle of self-blame and accepting that the man she loves and who loves her is fully committed accepting the child as his and continuing forward as a family. With both of these cases, the biology bias is directly contradicted. With the Tillerson/Sweeting situations, we compare a family where the biological father was abusive and the biological family as a whole failed to protect the children (though there are nuances as to the mother’s responsibility in a situation where she too was suffering abuse) to a strong, loving family where the degree of biological relatedness varies. Then with Linda & Selwyn, you have a family where the biological father is not in the picture and the non-biological father is shown to be loving and supportive and very likely a good father. The episode as a whole strongly communicates that it is the choice to love and the continued commitment to one another that makes a healthy family.

Eighth and finally, we have the 2018 Christmas Special. I’m not going to go into the whole of May’s situation and its portrayal because there’s much to go into about fostering and, while fostering is related to adoption, it’s really a whole topic of its own. There’s also a discussion that could be had about religious institutions and their role in adoption, but that would really go into the role they have in childbirth as well and that is just a whole big other conversation we could have about the show. Also, frankly this reply is long as heck already and a million high fives to you if you’ve stuck with me this far. In this episode, we go to the Nonnatus Mother Ship House and learn that apparently, they run an orphanage. Sister Winifred has a nice storyline with a boy who has disabilities and is therefore unlikely to be adopted. It is shown that children like this were often pushed to the sides and not given the care they needed to flourish. They were also far less likely to be adopted because they have different needs from children without disabilities, so they’re not what people seek when adopting (or hope for when giving birth.) This was a strong point of the episode, as it highlights the ableism in society more generally and specifically within family-building and childcare. Then we have May, who is part of a group of orphans from Hong Kong whose adoptive parents do not show up to pick her up because the prospective father gets TB, so the Turners decide to take her to live with them as a foster child. We learn that May’s biological mother was a prostitute and struggled with addiction and that though she tried to keep May, in the end she couldn’t manage to care for her in the situation she was in. There’s lots going on here in terms of class, addiction, sex work, and international adoption (especially, in this case, the power differential between Hong Kong (a British colony) and the UK (the colonial power in this equation.)) Later in the episode (or possibly in the series), it’s mentioned that May isn’t fluently anglophone and the Turners will have to work on her English with her, but other than that, questions of race, culture, etc… aren’t really touched on. I hold out some hope that these will come up in the upcoming series but I think they could have been introduced a bit in this episode/series. Also on the subject of international adoption, we have the sad (and sadly mishandled) story of the Australian home children. These children were sent to Australia (and other Commonwealth countries) for adoption, but were actually treated more as a source of free labour on farms. We actually did see this mentioned at the end of a much earlier episode (4x01), where four children were left mostly alone in conditions of abject squalor due to a neglectful mother (that was pretty much played straight, we don’t really gain much insight as to what her story was) and after Nonnatus helps them, they’re sent off to Australia where they suffer further abuse. And this is repeated here, the pregnant woman in question loitering around the Mother House trying to gain the courage to enter the last place she was happy as a child and talk about the abuse she suffered when she was sent out from the orphanage within this program. I think there’s a positive to this, in that it’s shedding light on a dark aspect of history, but it seems like there may have been a larger point/concern they were trying to make about international adoption programs and the positives and negatives therein that just didn’t land.So overall, there was a lot going on in this episode, some positive elements around tackling ableism in adoption and orphanage care, and some missed elements in relation to international adoption programs.

Tl;dr (and it’s perfectly fine if you jump down here bctbh I wrote a whole freaking tome up there): Dismantling the notion that someone isn’t a “true” parent or isn’t “truly” a person’s child because there’s no biological link is massively important, as is dismantling the notion that you have this instant “natural�� connection with your biological child (in terms of what that implies about non-genetic families, the judgement it holds about people who don’t bond instantly with their biological child, and that it erases the work of bonding.) Dismantling the biases about biological connections is helpful in pushing back against a variety of harmful views both within the context of families and family-building, and more broadly. (I’ve actually done some research into essentialist biases around genetics/”blood” and have some interesting papers on it, so please message me if you’re curious and would maybe like to nerd out about it.)

That being said, it’s also important to remember that not all of the choices around adoption are made freely. As with any form of family building, the social structures surrounding it shouldn’t be ignored. At the time, and even now, class, what is considered morally acceptable in a society, and family structure ideals all play into why children are removed from birth families, and which adoptive families they are placed with. They play a large role in who is given support in making, growing and sustaining a family, and who isn’t. Those structures largely favour(ed) straight, Christian, middle-class couples of British backgrounds and judged as worse or less deserving (or completely undeserving) gay, single, non-Christian and/or working-class people of non-British backgrounds.

It’s a really tricky subject, and trying to communicate that biology isn’t what makes you a parent while also showing how harmful the adoption process could be and how rooted it was (is) in unjust social norms & structures is important. I don’t think CtM always nails it, but I think the show benefits from tackling the subject multiple times, from some variety of perspectives, and with efforts at nuance.

#Call the Midwife #adoption #Anonymous

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illegiblewords · 5 years ago

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Hooooooo boy.

So apparently villain fan versus villain fan discourse is kicking up.

Have some reiterated opinions, some fresh ones, and some weird ones. Technically this is vagueblogging about some specific stuff but intent is no-drama here.

Emet-Selch versus Vauthry fan wank seems to be happening, which I’m sighing over because it’s a kind of ridiculous argument to have imo. Neither of these dudes are good people. Like we can debate accountability ‘til the cows come home and as I’ve been saying my opinions on insanity plea are strong. But like. I think at the very best we can argue for is a moral gray.

I can get Emet-Selch as a fallen hero/hero of Amaurot and for that reason haven’t been overly bothered by the “hero” line in the extreme fight. Vauthry is tragic but he’s basically inflicting forced cannibalism and mind control en masse. I personally am not of the opinion that he would qualify for a realistic insanity plea, so that impacts my measure of accountability. He’s also extremely, EXTREMELY familiar to me in how he thinks and behaves due to people I’ve encountered over the years. I understand how he got to a place where he thought those measures were acceptable. A form of mental illness is absolutely in play there as I read him, but it would not count toward the legal definition of insanity and for me that is significant.

As it stands, trying to claim whose behavior is less wrong is a stupid game to play when it’s genocide versus mass murder/forced cannibalism. Generally I’d rather opt out of that one because neither of these actions are things most people want to emulate. It seems like fans are more trying to decide who is moral enough to be allowed compassion/caring and who isn’t, which is an even more stupid game to play to my mind.

I don’t think having compassion and empathy for Emet-Selch or Vauthry are problems so much as selective compassion/empathy. As in “X person isn’t allowed to have compassion/empathy”.

I belong very much to the school of “everyone counts”. This means that in life some people inevitably go bad and commit atrocities that need to be stopped even if that means their death. It’s a very tragic thing when that happens and should be mourned, at least because if things had gone differently maybe the person would have turned out better. As long as you are able to remember the humanity of all involved (with the messiness that entails), odds are you’ll be able to navigate tough situations alright imo. When you start pretending some people are less than human, acceptable targets, or whose suffering otherwise doesn’t count--that’s extremely dangerous imo. It makes it easy to dismiss another person’s pain, which in turn makes it much easier to be cruel or callous. Sometimes needlessly.

Some additional bits:

- Emet-Selch did not say he would see the Sundered as less-than-human/not-really-alive/acceptable-targets if he wasn’t tempered. Attributing as much to him is literally, factually untrue. Moreover even if he had said it--he is an unreliable narrator on this front. He doesn’t know, he got tempered by the most powerful primal in existence. I’ve talked about how he lives the trolley problem before as well, which being added to tempering I think only exacerbates the level that he’s compromised. It’s a mind-wrecking situation.

- I’ve seen some people argue that because there was a point in time when Emet-Selch wasn’t tempered, his judgment while tempered isn’t as compromised as Vauthry’s is. That’s like arguing because someone at one point in their life did not have PTSD, or had not reached onset for Schizophrenia, therefore how they behaved and thought after developing those things is less compromising. It makes no sense to me as an argument. You could be born with a less severe condition that lasts your entire life while someone else is initially stable and gets completely crippled by mental illness. As it stands, I don’t even know if more severe/less severe is the way I’d even frame it because this seems like apples and oranges insofar as thought patterns go. They’re both fruit/both mentally ill characters but I mean other than that? Too different to get much from that comparison.

By the by. I know that I bring my own influences to the table in how I read things, but to me tempering absolutely reads as a mental illness allegory where it distorts a person’s existing thoughts in extreme ways that they would not do otherwise--but specifically distorting in such a way that serves the primal in question. I also think that other FFXIV characters show indications of different forms of mental illness, and I’m actually very impressed by how well the devs captured these.

Mental illness as a subject tends to get extremely complicated and people often have no idea how to deal with it. It’s also something that tends to get brushed aside, dismissed, or oversimplified today--both in fan communities and in-general. I’m glad people are having conversations about it, but good lord this is not a place to have pissing contests or try to impose pure good/evil morality.

- People are entering debate over Vauthry’s weight and whether joking about it is okay or not. I want to pose a few points. 1) Dulia Chai, also very overweight, does not receive the treatment Vauthry does and seems pretty beloved 2) Vauthry, in a period of widespread famine and as the person explicitly charged with ALL OF EULMORE’S WEALTH (as in, all of the people living under him surrendered their property in exchange for his protection) is seriously, dangerously overweight due in large part to unapologetic, non-essential cannibalism. He honestly resembles people who have been rendered physically immobile and are dying due to obesity complications during this time period, that is not something that happens without serious excess. Vauthry holds funds that were given to him specifically not for his own personal enjoyment but to perform a job for the people. He absolutely places his own pleasure above the survival of the poor. If he was that overweight in a time of plenty or as someone without the level of power he holds, it would not read the same way. Under these specific circumstances his physicality is a direct representation of his corruption and hypocrisy. Under other circumstances that might not have been the case. 3) In the same way that enabling harmful thought patterns/behavioral tendencies in a mentally ill person is bad and can constitute abuse, it is possible to cause harm by encouraging extreme and dangerous physical states. I am a strong believer in the idea that every body type can be beautiful provided it doesn’t look like the person faces imminent danger to their health or is actively dying. For me this is not exclusive to extreme obesity but also extends to starvation and some instances of extreme body-building as well. Think steroid abuse.

When a body registers as “sick”, there is a level of instinctive discomfort for most people. Sometimes this comes with sympathy and concern for the person dealing with that issue, sometimes it alienates others from them them. But when an individual actively embraces self-destruction by pursuing such an extreme and dangerous state either by design or out of apathy to the threat, it’s normal for a measure of horror to be attached because it becomes a form of self-harm. Vauthry evokes that to me. Dulia Chai does not. 4) I’ve joked about the wonders of the meol diet, because I know firsthand how difficult weight loss can be. To go from Vauthry’s level to Innocence’s in like six steps is absurd --the fact that he’s been on a cannibalism diet specifically takes it the extra mile into hilarity for me. I haven’t seen as many jokes about his weight in-general so much as the sudden transformation. If the butt of the joke is cannibalism and ridiculous speed/opposite appearance turnaround, I personally don’t think those cases warrant offense. 5) I’ve had people try to fight me before for saying there is a such thing as being dangerously overweight. No comments on dangerously underweight or muscular, just overweight. So to set people at ease--I have personally dealt with serious health risks caused by obesity before. I’ve had loved ones who were in the same position and I have lost family members directly as a result of obesity-related health problems. It’s a very difficult thing to deal with. I have a lot of sympathy on this subject and understand how devastating it can be to endure shitty treatment due to weight.

I personally don’t think it’s right to forbid any jokes that deal with Vauthry’s weight, or that deal with hot subjects in-general. I think the punchline of the joke matters a ton though. Making a joke at the expense of someone struggling with something difficult is shitty. Making a joke about cannibalism turning you into a sparkling bishonen after walking down a set of stairs is just ridiculous.

Likewise, I don’t think it’s a problem for people to feel disturbed by severe health problems... but I do think it’s important to separate the person dealing with the illness from the illness itself. This goes for physical and mental issues.

I know that a lot of people don’t necessarily agree with these types of opinions and that’s okay. They’re not really common right now and are things I arrived at just by thinking myself and trying to sort out what seems appropriate as best I can.

- I’ve talked about how insanity plea when I was researching it more or less came down to a person having their perception of reality and their judgment so heavily impaired by illness that they cannot be expected to react to situations in the same way that someone without that impairment would. I’ve seen people try to argue about how someone saying demons made them murder another person wouldn’t have any less accountability to them. I think that case could actually fall under insanity plea but would need close evaluation to make sure. If the person truly believed that they and their loved ones would be tortured to death by demons if they refused or told anyone or something--yeah, insanity plea in play there. Part of the issue is that the act is horrible and I think there’s a longstanding skepticism on whether the person is sincerely crazy or just bullshitting.

In general, a cluster B personality disorder would not qualify for insanity plea. Still might involve inaccurate perception of the world or others, but the type of delusion and impairment would not inherently compel them toward violent/unlawful action or prevent them from seeking help. They also tend to be somewhat more aware of the world around them, but whether they care and how they interact/why can be dictated by the condition. Given I think Zenos is more or less an Antisocial Personality Disorder poster child (not because “I don’t like people so edgy”, I mean in terms of treating people in his life as filling roles and therefore being replaceable, overwhelming ennui in most aspects of his life, lack of interest or fulfillment in interpersonal relationships, etc.)--I do not think he would qualify for insanity plea.

Vauthry I’m not positive what I think he has yet, again he reminds me a lot of people I’ve met but certain conditions manifest similarly under the circumstances I have in mind. I think he absolutely has inhibited empathy. He’s also very spoiled, self-righteous, and possibly has no theory of mind. I don’t think he has instincts for taboo either which probably does tie to his sin-eater heritage. I don’t think his growing up in Eulmore or even having a shitty upbringing is the main reason he is the way he is, imo it’s a combination of nature and nurture. I think being part sin-eater essentially made it easier for him to become monstrous, but who knows--if he’d had a really good upbringing in a non-toxic environment maybe he could have been a good man anyway. Same way that having a cluster B personality disorder does not make a person evil by a long shot, but it can make it easier to hurt others due to the way thought patterns are impacted.

I would want to double check some research, but right now I think Vauthry reads likely for Narcissistic Personality Disorder. He has mood swings but none of them seem to be depressive, it’s more egotism/happiness and anger by and large. When he does get sad before dying, it’s not because of loving or missing his father but because the self-image he loved (as encouraged by his father) was compromised.

I think he’s a bit slow and I think he only cares about others insofar as they’re tools to define himself as well as possible to his own mind. I don’t think, listening to G’raha Tia or anyone who begged him to change course, he was unable to comprehend what they were saying. He was just closed-minded to it imo.

With Emet-Selch meanwhile, I actually think both how he was impacted by specific interactions, his memories, and possibly even his sensory understanding of sundered beings might have been compromised by Zodiark. Like being colorblind, almost. I think the way he deals with the world, there are a ton of colors he can no longer perceive due to tempering but he has no idea that what he should be perceiving is there. He remembers being able to see all colors in Amaurot, but after the sundering suddenly purple was gone. Purple is still actually there, but he is not capable of seeing it. You could literally wave a purple flower in front of his face and it wouldn’t register. He might even accuse you of lying because he remembers purple, and purple is gone, and he’s doing everything he can to get purple back--but he has no idea that purple has still been here but he’s been altered in such a way that despite remembering it, he can’t see it anymore. As per tempering.

Vauthry knows about purple, he just doesn’t have much interest in it outside how it looks with his complexion. If purple is unflattering then fuck purple. Burn it to the ground, ban it, forbid anyone else from indulging in it. If it works, then no one would have more or prettier purples than him.

- It is time for me to take a nap but basically it was shitty to give Vauthry a sin-eater streak but 1) I do still think that’s severely impaired judgment 2) I don’t necessarily think that Vauthry was bound in the same way by his mental condition. I do think Vauthry believed himself to be doing good but didn’t actually have a clear concept of good in existence.

#ffxiv

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hopelessromanticspoonie · 5 years ago

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To Keep You Safe

Title: I can see you in your eyes, you’re ready to break. Don’t look away

Chapter: 13/?

Author: hopeless_romantic_spoonie

Summary: Life as the assistant to Tony Stark was busy, but boring. All of that changed when I touched something I shouldn’t have and woke up with strange new abilities. If I thought that trying to figure out my new place in life as an Avenger was tough, I had no idea what was in store for me once I ran into the frustrating God of Mischief, Loki.

Rating: E

Notes: Friendly reminder that this is un-Beta’d, so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors I no doubt missed during revisions! Story begins after Keep Reading due to possible triggers.

Also on Ao3 here :)

Warnings: blood, violence, torture, death, brief suicidal thoughts, language

~~~

A pattern was established after a few more sleeps–I lost the will to count after the fifth time I’d managed to get any amount of sleep without getting knocked out or passing out. What did it matter if I knew how much time had gone by, anyway? I woke up in my room to the soundtrack of my former friends’ betrayal chanting in my ears with a glass of water and what I assumed was some sort of protein bar waiting for me. I downed both ravenously as I waited in the darkness, my ravaged back pressed lightly against the cold wall. When I wasn’t taken elsewhere to video viewings where I got to watch the horrific past deeds of the Avengers, or to another test of my abilities, or to get ‘electroshock therapy’, I sat on the cold hard floor of my cell and felt around mentally, testing out my new heightened abilities.

I counted the number of guns in the hallway by identifying the metal in them. I was aware of the old copper pipes that ran through the walls around me. Down the hallway and through an iron door laid in wait the machine that they strapped over my head every day. This hall had exactly seventeen other cells with iron doors. And I knew, deep down inside and without a doubt, that if I focused and twisted my hand just so I could warp my door enough to escape. But there wasn’t anywhere to escape to, so it was pointless to try and risk getting caught. I didn’t need Brawny’s boot in my ribs again. Four times was plenty.

If there was a plus side to this, it was that my eyes were opened to the misdeeds of people I had once looked up to and even loved. My old family, the Avengers, had only been using me. They wanted me for their own goal of making the world to their liking. They wanted me to help them wreak havoc on innocent people so that they could rule as they saw fit. It was all an act. Pretend to act for the greater good, for the betterment of mankind, and leave so much destruction in their wake. Nobody to hold them accountable. Nobody to tell them whether or not they were actually even helping. They wanted to control me, too, and I had been naive enough to fall for it. Add on not allowing me to fully realize the true potential for my powers and holding me back, and they clearly weren’t looking out for my best interests. They pretended to care for me and protect me while they kept me on the sidelines. I deserved more.

In the darkness, without any light or sound besides the neverending mantra, my mind compensated for the lack of stimuli with vivid hallucinations. Men dressed in black shooting at me. My so-called friends and team members arguing in the corner. But sometimes, when it felt like being both particularly cruel and unbelievably kind, it was Loki.

He knelt next to me, looking at me with such rage and concern battling on his fair features that I had never seen. Even my imagination wouldn’t allow me to see him as I wanted: content and happy. It had to add his pained face to the weight that had settled over my heart. Sometimes he tried to talk to me, but I just tuned that out as I had the soundtrack of my former allies betrayal. I didn’t need to add his beautiful voice to the grief weighing me down. Forgetting it was the best chance I had at happiness. Remembering him hurt too much and this life I was forced into didn’t allow a break for heartache.

~~~

“We have intel that your Avengers are still coming for you, Ms. Thompson. We thought we would make another video reminding them of why that’s foolish. Thank you so much for helping us with this little project.”

I was forced into the same position that I was in for the first video: kneeling, sitting on my ankles, with my collar chained to the wall behind me and handcuffs holding my hands captive behind my back. I don’t even look into the camera until Malfoy smacked his cane across my back, pulling a cry from my lips, ordering me to do so under threat of another blow to my bruised and broken skin. It takes almost all of my energy just to sit there, but I reach deep down within myself and lift my pained and weary gaze to stare into the black lens.

“Better. Now, Mr. Stark, we have received word that you are on your way toward what you believe is one of our bases to attempt to rescue this woman. As I said before, this is a foolish endeavor. Any attempts to do so will be taken out on her. Jefferson?”

Malfoy stepped away from me, and Brawny man–Jefferson–took his place. It’s obvious what’s coming before it’s happening, and it’s glaringly obvious that if I’m struggling to just sit upright that I’m not going to be strong enough to fake it or hold anything back like last time. Maintaining my composure for as long as possible was the best I could hope for, and even that was a tenuous goal at best.

That resolve lasted up until the first blow Brawny delivered against my already injured ribs. A broken scream tore through my lips as white-hot fire shot out from where I’d surely at least cracked a rib by this point. Each breath tugged on them and sent a nauseating wave of agony through me, so I’m forced to pant and sob as shallowly as I can as more and more blows are rained down on my back and stomach until my body can take no more, and I pass out, held up only by the collar around my neck.

~~~

“Turn off the machine. They’re here. Get ready to move her.”

The hastily spoken words broke through the mind-numbing haze caused by so many volts of electricity charging through my system. Seconds later the torture ceased. I slumped back against the metal chair, my muscles unable to support me after flexing and spasming for so long. My eyes cracked open, only one able to see anything for the machine covering it. Wood messed with the panel controlling the machine next to me, and the guards that normally watched me like a hawk were facing the door, shifting nervously and glancing between one another.

Another hallucination of Loki appeared in front of me. I lifted my eyes to the tall figure that looked both so broken and so enraged as he took me in. It was an interesting struggle on his handsome features. To be fair, I’d never imagined him in here before, so of course he’d be shocked to see me in this situation. I was too exhausted from the videotaping earlier and the shocking treatment to even attempt to force the image from my mind, though. It was nice to see something beautiful for a change, even if it’d hurt later.

The guards seemed to have other ideas, and they swung around to point their guns at the apparition, or, more realistically, me. Wasn’t their smartest idea, considering he wasn’t here and those would definitely kill me, but would that really be the worst thing to happen?

No, don’t think like that.

“Don’t shoot! You could hit her, you imbeciles! Everything would be for nothing!” Wood ran out in front of me, spreading his arms as if he could actually stop the guards if they decided to open fire. He had about as much control over the situation as I did, and I was strapped to a chair and rendered helpless by my body’s weakness even if I was to somehow get free.

Loki glared at the contraption holding me before resting his gaze on me. The harshness tightening his eyes softened when he met my gaze. “What have they done to you?” he growled.

I couldn’t answer out loud with the bite guard still in my mouth, but answering out loud was pointless when he was just a hallucination. Unable to do anything, I just took in the beauty of his rage. He was always so stunning in his armor, looking the king he always wanted to be. This was no different, although even during the tapings of the Invasion I hadn’t seen him look so murderous. I’d hate to actually be on the receiving end of that look.

In the distance explosions reverberated throughout the building, shaking loose some dust from the ceiling to fall about the room. That was new. Maybe they were testing someone else? I couldn’t be the only one learning to improve their powers.

“Tony is breaking through their shielding. I am coming for you, little one. I will tear through every man I have to until you are safe in my arms,” he vowed loudly, fierce determination ticking in his jaw. In my peripheral vision, one of the guards shook his head and took a few stuttering steps away from both the door and Loki. I turned my attention back to Loki. He was much prettier to look at than a cowering guard, even enraged. His hand hovered over my bare knee, and I knew that he didn’t try to close the distance because there wasn’t any point to it; he wasn’t really there.

If only I could imagine him less distraught than this. I wanted the soft Loki that was only for me. The one who chuckled at me when I cursed out my hairbrush for pulling my hair and pulled me closer in his sleep. Who kissed my shoulder as I brushed my teeth. Who knew my coffee preferences and woke me with a cup if he got up before me. Whose cold fingers would be a balm on my ruined body. This version, shaking with anger, was a sight for sore eyes, but I missed my Loki. But it wouldn’t be safe for him to come here. Although these men had tapped into power I didn’t know I’d had, I couldn’t protect him. Not like this, so weak in both mind and body. I couldn’t bear it if he got hurt because of me.

You’re not real, Loki. Don’t come here. It isn’t safe for you.

“I am real. We are here. I’m coming for you,” Loki said calmly, his voice a level cadence that doesn’t do anything to lessen the threatening aura surrounding him. It’s a deadly sort of calm that barely hides the fury behind it. It means that he’s calculating, using all of his resources to think of the many ways to handle a situation. I’d always been more afraid of people who get quiet when they’re angry. It’s just the calm before the storm. And even if this storm wasn’t going to rain down on me, it was still terrifying to look it in the face.

Shouts and screams blended with the sound of bullets firing. Boots stomped across the floor in the hallway. Great crashes of crumbling concrete and debris echoed throughout the room. Wood had taken to cowering behind my chair after Loki had turned his murderous glare on him. I would run and hide from that look, too, if I wasn’t still restrained and didn’t know that it was not meant for me. Plus, it was just too much to try to undo the metal around my ankles and wrists when they would just punish me for it. I couldn’t take another hit in my ribs or on my back. Best to just wait and see what the fuss was all about. Surely this apparition wasn’t Loki, right?

I didn’t have to wait long. The door directly across from me was ripped off its hinges and thrown across the hall to slam into the wall so hard it embedded itself in the concrete. The illusion of Loki disappeared in a wave of green light and was replaced by his looming figure standing in the doorway, lit from behind by flickering light bulbs and the orange glow of a distant fire. The guards who had been tasked with watching me opened fire on him, but their bullets only seemed to anger him further as they bounced uselessly off of him. With a swipe of his arm all of the men, excluding Wood, were thrown into the wall. They slid down to the floor, unmoving, and I looked back to the god stalking into the room.

“It’s all going to be okay, love. I promise.” His words, soothing and calm, were opposite to the fury holding him taut as he moved past my field of vision.

I heard a scuffle behind me, Wood shrieking incoherently, and then nothing save for the chaos happening outside of the room. Loki, now spattered in blood, reappeared in front of me, his face contorted in agony.

“Oh, love…” he murmured, shaking his head as he took me in quickly He leaned over me and his intoxicating scent washed over me. I closed my eyes at the instant comfort it brought to me. Weird how I had never been that in-depth with my hallucinations before, but maybe this last treatment had finally broken that part of my brain, too.

Air rushed across my face as the metal device that went over my head was ripped from the machine with the savage sound of wrenching metal. Cool fingers brushed my skin and I pried my eyelids open to see Loki bending and pulling off the locks restraining me at my ankles and wrists. I fought the exhaustion threatening to take over me, instead willing my brain to make sense of the situation. Was Loki here for me? Or was this just a wonderful and terrible dream?

His long fingers gently grabbed my chin, holding me still as he pulled the bite guard from between my clenched teeth. That was more of a relief than anything else. Damn thing was too big and made my jaw ache.

No, I was wrong. The sting and soreness of my neck after it was freed from the restrictive metal collar by his strong hands carefully ripping it in half was the biggest relief I’d had since coming here. A groan escaped my dry, cracked lips and a flash of pain lit up Loki’s darkened gaze at the sound.

“Get her and let’s go, brother!” Thor?

“Can you walk, love?” he asked quietly, his hands hovering over me as if I were some wild animal he was afraid of spooking.

I had walked here, I think. It was just so hard to remember anything after they shocked me. My jaw ached, both from the bite guard and the thick collar that rubbed against it, so I decided talking wasn’t a necessity. I merely nodded, wincing as my neck muscles that had been forced to remain in one position for so long protested the simple movement. His hands slid down my neck to my back to help me up, but he withdrew when his fingertips met the open wounds left from my last punishment and I winced in pain. They hadn’t given me any of the cold drugs today, so I acutely felt every injury that had been dealt against me as he instead took my hands and carefully pulled me to my feet from the chair.

I stumbled after him, my legs weak after such little use and practically no food or water. He stopped, lips pressed into a thin line, looking over me critically once again. Silent decision made, he picked up my shaking body into his arms and cradled me tightly to his chest. My grubby fingers splayed across his leather armor, doing their best to ground me in the surreal moment. The sharp pain sent through my ribs with each swift step he took as he barrelled down the hallway kept me present if nothing else.

Everything was a blur. I couldn’t focus on any one thing for too long. My entire body throbbing as I was jostled around in Loki’s grip. The screams of men around us. The sound of bullets, explosions, and rockets. The smell of leather and spice filled my nose when I let my head fall into the crook of his neck. My eye and nose screaming from the action forced me to turn my head so my forehead was pressed carefully into him instead. I am disgusting and he’s holding me. What a dumb detail to focus on. Light flashing behind my closed eyes as I gave in to the belief that this was happening and Loki wasn’t going to let me go. Dreams weren’t supposed to hurt this much.

“Is she alive?” Tony.

My eyes snapped open and found Tony, all decked out in his Iron Man suit, standing over us as Loki sat down to hold me in his lap. Fear surged up from deep within me, and I reached up toward him. He looked at me in worried concern, reaching out his metal hand for mine with a thin, sad smile.

I flicked my fingers toward him, and a metal panel broke off of the floor of the jet and flew into him, wrapping around him and pinning him to the wall.

“Wanda!” he shouted urgently.

Distracted, I let up on forcing the panel to wrap tighter around him. I turned to look for the Scarlet Witch, ready to defend myself, and she popped up over Loki’s shoulder, her hands twisting in my direction. I was able to catch the look of conflict creasing her face and then I was out, sinking into Loki’s embrace and deep, dreamless sleep.

~~~

I woke up to silence.

Well, almost silence. My soft breathing and the quiet hum of the heater in the background hardly counted. But that was silent enough compared to the monotonous voice spelling out the truths of the Avengers that had become the background music to my waking moments alone.

And I was so comfortable. My skin felt free of the layer of blood, sweat, and grime it had accumulated against soft, warm bed sheets and my raw, cut-up back wasn’t sticking to a cold wall but nestled into a heavenly soft mattress. The sheets smelled like a heady, comforting mixture of something spicy and the lavender eucalyptus soaps and lotions that I preferred.

And then I heard the soft sound of a page turning.

I bolted upright in bed and wrenched my eyes open. My hands flew out towards the source of the sound and my wooden nightstand followed before I could even identify what was happening. Almost instantly a green light surrounded the furniture and it fell heavily to the ground, a leg breaking off from the impact.

I knew the magic behind that light. Loki. He looked up at me from where he was seated at my couch, uncrossing his dark slack-covered legs and resting his elbows on his knees as he closed his book. He looked concerned, sorrowful even, which is not the expression I figured he’d have after I tried to throw a table at him. It was a small table, but it still counted.

“How are you feeling, darling?” he asked kindly, setting his book down beside him and standing to walk over to me, each motion slow and deliberate. Just like when he had first found me. Like I was a skittish animal he was trying to lure into a sense of security, false or otherwise.

Oh. I wasn’t in the Hydra base anymore. I was in my room. I dug my fingers into the familiar dark green blanket beneath me, tethering myself to the room as I fought the wave of memories threatening to overwhelm me. The electrocutions. The beatings. Malfoy. Wood. My cold dark cell. I shook my head against them as if that would force them from my mind, and closed my eyes.

“Just breathe, love. You’re safe. I will never leave your side. Breathe,” Loki soothed, his patient timbre coming from somewhere to my left. He sounded closer than he had been a moment ago.

I opened my eyes to watch him warily for a moment, determining if he was a true threat, before hazarding a glance around the room I’d claimed over the past several months. It looked untouched in the time span that I’d been gone, and I realized that I wasn’t even sure how long that was. But it was mine, it smelled like me and had my trinkets, my sketchbooks and bits and bobs. And that was something that Hydra couldn’t have duplicated, right?

My wary gaze fell on an IV pole with several bags of unidentified hanging from it, all dripping into the line in my arm. I quickly ripped it out of my skin, ignoring the slight burn and bit of blood that pooled up from my less-than-delicate removal process.

Focusing on fixing that small problem helped steady my breathing, but I didn’t relax, not yet. I still wasn’t sure where I stood with Loki, or what I was doing here, or what was happening next. Too many unanswered questions.

“Those were fluids, antibiotics, and saline. You were incredibly dehydrated and weak. We were worried about infection from your injuries,” Loki said, sounding mildly frustrated as he finally stopped to sit in a chair that had been dragged over beside my bed.

“Nothing goes inside me. No needles or injections or drugs,” I said as firmly as I could. My voice was hoarse from disuse.

“Love-”

“Nothing,” I persisted, rubbing my hand against where the IV had been as I took stock of myself. My body was clean, as I had suspected, and what I could see of it was covered in healing green bruises and small cuts that had been much deeper the last time I was awake. I was dressed in one of my baggy t-shirts, no bra, and clean sleep shorts. I took a deep breath, wincing at the tug and burn of my ribs resisting. Those were still messed up; got it. “Who did this?” I asked, pulling lightly on the collar of my t-shirt.

“Myself. Even after Wanda put you to sleep, you were restless and agitated whenever anyone else touched you. I’m sorry for doing so without your consent, but given our past physical intimacy and the need for you to be cleaned and cared for quickly, I was the one best-suited for the task,” he said calmly, his eyes raking over my face as he spoke. He looked pained as he took me in, his eyes bouncing from injury to injury and then dancing around the room, only to fall on me again.

“Wanda was inside my head?” I growled, glaring at him. I didn’t trust her. What if she had messed with my thoughts? Changed my opinion on something or changed a memory? She was incredibly powerful, and who would know the difference? Who would care if she did?

“I’m afraid that she was, but only to put you to sleep so we could get you to safety. I did not allow them to search your memories, as they wanted.” He frowned, clearly upset at that. At least he had kept up his promise while I was unconscious. The bare minimum, really, but it was still appreciated.

“Thanks,” I grumbled, running a hand through my hair. He must have washed that, too. It was clean and wavy, free of tangles. How much had he done to care for me while I was out?

He reached out to take my hand after it had fallen back to rest in my lap. The warmth in his eyes dimmed when I flinched and pulled it away. A cool, collected mask slipped over the hurt on his face instantly, and he looked up to me with a thin smile. “Now, how are you feeling? You neglected to answer me earlier.”

“Like I was trapped inside actual hell and tortured brutally for days on end,” I snapped. How was I supposed to answer that question?

“They were devastated over your kidnapping. As was I,” Loki said, frustration peeking through his calm facade.

“It’s all an act! They just want to use me! They aren’t my friends! They took their sweet time to get me back because they don’t care. I was left in that hell hole to be tortured and beaten while they were here, living it up!” I screamed, standing out of bed and pointing angrily at the door as my temper broke through my weak attempt at controlling it. I swayed slightly, the blood rushing to my head and blacking out the edges of my vision.

Loki stood up as I did and lightly settled his fingertips on my hips, ready to catch me if I fell and steadying me in the meantime. He left them there after I shook my head, indicating that I wasn’t going to drop, and I didn’t make him move. This close to him, with his gentle touch keeping me steady and his eyes filled with compassion as he peered down at me, it didn’t seem too important to fight him. I craved the comfort that he offered, even as part of me wanted to push it away. That part could shut the hell up.

His thumbs rubbed my protruding hip bones lightly, but even that hurt. I’d lost so much cushion protecting the; how much weight had I lost in there? Were my hips bruised, too? Wouldn’t surprise me if they were. “Come now, little one. I know you don’t believe that.”

I lifted my hands to tangle into the hair at the sides of my head, pulling on it as I struggled with my conflicting thoughts. He was too close. He wasn’t close enough. The Avengers were my enemies. They used me. They loved me. I couldn’t pick apart what was real and what wasn’t.

“It’s what I know. They don’t care. They never did,” I said weakly, my conviction faltering even on my ears.

“And what do you know about me? Do I care? Am I using you?” Loki asked, voice cautious as if he didn’t truly want the answer to the questions he asked. His shoes came into my line of sight beside my bare feet. He reached out and untangled my hands from my hair, not allowing me to yank away from his touch by lacing his fingers through mine once he was finished.

I looked up at him, searching his serious face as he did the same to me. Watching his glittering eyes as they flitted over the bruises marring my skin. The uptick of his furrowed brow as he waited with bated breath for my response. His tongue darting out to wet his lips nervously. My answer meant more to him than he was admitting. Loki had never taken advantage of me. He had cared for my injuries and chased away my nightmares. He soothed me to sleep. He trusted me enough to open up to me in ways that he didn’t with the others. But still…

“It took you so long to save me…” I wasn’t accusatory, just resigned, a heavy sigh following the words.

“I didn’t know where you were, darling,” he replied, voice cracking. Guilt swam in his shining emerald eyes and ticked in his clenched jaw. He relaxed his grip on me, but only so he could stroke the soft skin of the side of my hand with his thumb. “I needed them to find you before I could do anything else. As soon as we knew where you were, we came. I came. If it wasn’t enough motivation that you were simply gone, it’s that vile…” He shook his head and pulled me to him, releasing my hands so he could hold me to his chest. “That cursed video that they sent of you. They couldn’t finish it, but I made myself. And then we received the second video while we were on the way here…” He shuddered at the thought, muttering a curse to himself. “It almost destroyed me.”

I relaxed after a moment in his embrace, closing my eyes as I recalled the videos he was talking about. Those had been my first and last taste of Hydra, and neither of them had been the worst of the treatment I’d been given. I didn’t want to think about it anymore, though. It made it harder to breathe around the lump in my throat and the weight pressing into my chest. My arms snaked around his waist, holding him as tightly as I could. “Thank you,” I murmured, tears springing into my eyes. I was safe now. And that allowed me to feel the full gravity of what had happened to me.

Gently, everything he did was gentle since I’d woken up, Loki guided me to sit down on his lap as he settled down on his bedside chair, never releasing me. I sank against him, curling up my legs to my chest as I tried to fold as much of myself into his arms as I could. His heart raced beneath my hand as it splayed across his chest, the thin material of his white button-down shirt doing little to suppress the quickening beats. His fingers traced nonsensical patterns on my skin and I felt his Adam’s apple bob against the side of my head as I leaned against him.

“I will always come for the woman I love,” he whispered, tightening his fingers around me. He only loosened their grip when I made a quiet noise of discomfort as they dug painfully into one of my many bruises.

The tears that I had been barely holding at bay trickled down my face as I tilted my head up enough to look at him. He took a deep breath before meeting my gaze, searching my eyes desperately for my response. When I didn’t respond beyond looking at him, his expression became closed-off and his hands fell to hang loosely at his sides.

“Wait.” I slid my hand across his chest and down his arm to take his, picking it up and holding it to the middle of my chest so he could feel my own fluttering heart. I needed a moment to process everything, but I didn’t want him to shut me out and run away. I just needed a beat. My mind was such a jumble. Maybe it would be easier to process everything out loud.

“In..” I shuddered and took a deep breath, trying again. “In there, you were the one thought I had to hold onto. Even if I couldn’t make it there all the time, you were my happy place. My escape. I… I don’t know if I wouldn’t have survived it if I hadn’t had the thought of you coming for me to cling to. I don’t know when it happened. We haven’t even been together that long. I…” I groaned in frustration and moved his hand to my forehead. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Just… Look? Please?”

His hand left my forehead to smooth some of my hair back behind my ear before he let his hand fall to curl around the side of my neck, careful to avoid the bruising and healing spots rubbed raw from my collar. His forehead tilted down until it rested against mine and I closed my eyes, breathing him in, and focused on the memories and emotions that were too difficult to put into words.

The first time I had noticed how breathtakingly beautiful he was when he took care of me in the infirmary. The simple pleasure of getting to know the lines and planes of his face, body, and hands as I recuperated and filled the pages of my sketchbook with charcoal versions of him. How much fun I’d had dancing with him and how right it felt to kiss him. The fear that I held for him when we were cornered in that alley. How safe I felt in his arms. How safe I felt when he watched over me after my nightmares. The despair at his rejection. The hope and elation when he had taken it back. How safe and content I felt falling asleep next to him. How good his touch felt against my skin as we tangled together beneath the sheets.

I showed him everything. Everything that I could think of to demonstrate what he meant to me. It was more than words. He was more than words. He was more than a feeling. He was soft, steady breathing in the darkness. He was arms made of cool iron holding me close. He was a small, poorly-suppressed smile as he teased me. He was warm spice and cool touches. He was…

I opened my eyes to see Loki staring at me, tears of his own running down his face as he watched me with wonder in his eyes. It was like watching his heart break and mend itself at the same time. Seeing the tears on his face was too much to bear and I felt the tears I had just stifled begin again. I had never seen him cry, he was too proud for that, but these weren’t tears meant to be hidden away. These were like mine, an outpouring of happiness and love that refused to be contained. Seeing him so open and vulnerable gave me the strength and clarity to finally put my thoughts into words. My hands shook as I curled them into his unbuttoned collar. “You’re home, Loki.”

All desperation and hope and love was conveyed in his lips and tongue moving against mine in a slow, intense kiss. There was no need to rush. Not when we were finally together again, everything laid out on the table. I was safely in his arms and I was never leaving them again. When he broke the kiss he held me against his chest, tucking my head beneath his chin. “Oh, darling woman, I love you. I love you so dearly,” he said, voice watery but full of relief and happiness.

I managed to curl my arms around his neck without pulling on my ribs too much and buried my face into the hollow of his throat. I didn’t care about the tears that stained his skin, and he didn’t seem to either as he held onto me like I was the oxygen he needed to breathe. “I love you, Loki. I love you.”

#blood tw #violence tw #death tw #suicide tw #language tw #to keep you safe #loki #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #loki fanfic #loki/ofc #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel

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kittybennett · 5 years ago

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your choice | anti-soulmate au where they weren't born with soul-mates and they meet in a group where other people who don't have them meet-up. and they come to the conclusion that they're not weirdos for not having them. cause they have the group and each other jhskfjksdf - @malcolmbrights

ok i’m sorry this turned REALLY long but here we go.

aka: five times ev didn’t go to support group and one time she did

Evelyn Reyes spends much of her sixteenth year of life staring into reflective surfaces in the vain hope that she will find a soulmark has bloomed on her skin while she wasn’t looking. Most people are born within them, though it isn’t entirely unheard of for the matching tattoos to make themselves known in the years between childhood and adolescence. A teenager already, Evelyn is a rarity, late even by the most generous of time frames, and this makes her a repository for her peers’ pity. She takes to wearing long sleeves even in the sweltering heat of summer to avoid questions, but finds that it’s all people want to talk to her about. No matter how they phrase their comforting platitudes or prying questions, it all sounds the same to her.

Are you scared that you might be utterly alone? How relieved I am that it’s you and not me.

Evelyn hates them all, but most of all she hates the guidance counselor who calls her into her office to offer ‘support’ and gives Evelyn a flyer for a group of people with deceased soulmates. It’s not the same, the counselor explains, but those in the group might understand what Evelyn is going through. They can sympathize on how horrible it is to not have a soulmate.

Her cheeks burn hot. She shoves the flyer into the pocket of her hoodie and begs to be excused. On her way home she tears the flyer into little pieces and throws it over a bridge, watching the pieces of paper flutter and land on the river below while angry, shameful tears prick at her eyes.

After that, she stops checking her body for new marks.

ii. The first man that Evelyn loves also takes pains to keep covered up. Unlike Evelyn, he actually has something to hide: a bright blue tattoo of a bird in flight. The space where it adorns his forearm is usually bandaged lest Jamie’s eager admirers find a way to replicate it and render the mark useless.

When they lie together at night, Evelyn traces the mark. It’s the closest she’s ever been to one that didn’t belong to either of her parents, and even at a young age she knew not to ask questions about theirs.

“They weren’t soulmates.” Evelyn tells her lover one night. “His died when they were little �� childhood sweethearts. And my mom has never talked about hers, but I know he’s gone too. She wouldn’t have married my father or had me if she thought he was still out there.”

What she doesn’t confess hangs in the air. Jamie addresses it anyway.

“You know that’s not the reason you’re like this, right?”

Evelyn is silent but the finger that was tracing his mark stills.

“Evelyn. It’s just bad luck. Seriously.” He tilts her face so he can stare into her eyes. Jamie is rarely serious, so this sudden sobriety makes it difficult for Evelyn to hold his gaze, but she does. “Bad things happen to lots of people, and it’s not the end of the world. My cousin is widowed, and he remarried and—“

Before he can finish his story, Evelyn kisses him. And kisses him. Her distraction works.

That night Evelyn prays for the first time in well over a decade: asking for a blue bird on her forearm. ( She breaks up with Jamie a week later. Better to get out with her heart mostly intact. She never does find out what happened to that cousin of his, though sometimes she wonders if she should have let Jamie finish. )

iii.

“Would it kill you to write something happy for once? Just one ballad about summer love, or getting dicked down?”

Evelyn frowns. “You know I’m not the bubblegum pop type.”

“That’s for sure.” Her producer sighs. “Listen, you’re good. But can’t you just write a love song that isn’t super … intense and depressing? Give us something fun and light-hearted for once.”

“What if I haven’t felt that?”

“Then pretend, or talk to someone who has.” The producer fixes her with a look between pity and sternness. “Seriously, Evie. Don’t come back here without a love song. And get a therapist.”

Evelyn returns in a week with a song about the thrill of a first glance and the intense flush of devotion that follows it. The song spends several weeks on the charts and goes viral after someone creates a Tik Tok dance for it, though none of that matters to sole inspiration for the song: Evelyn’s new cat.

iv.

Her second-ever happy love song is not as commercially successful, but it is inspired by a human being this time. Naomi is brilliant, and funny, and the most talented actress of her generation (according to a Vanity Fair correspondent but Evelyn is inclined to agree). The first time she refers to Evelyn as “the love of my life”, Evelyn spends the better part of a week repeating the moment in her mind.

Naomi really should have thought to mention the caveat.

Three years later, Evelyn laughs at something a precocious child on a television program says and asks, “What would you do if your child asked you that?”

Naomi shakes her head. “Pour myself some scotch and direct them towards their other mom, or dad.”

Evelyn is frozen.

Other mom or dad. Not you. Not the love of her life. Because Evelyn is only the love of Naomi’s life … for now.

Evelyn turns off the television program. “You don’t think we’ll raise children together?”

Naomi looks sheepish. To her credit, she picks her words more carefully this time. “Evelyn … be realistic. I love you so much but - someday I’m going to meet the real thing. You can’t ask me to say no to them for you.”

Evelyn feels the same hot shame she did when she was sixteen and finally accepting that she had no soulmate and never would. This time she won’t cry, not in front of Naomi. “I’m a person. Not your training wheels.”

She moves out the next day.

Dating apps aren’t much different, as it turns out. She has way too many messages from people who assume that being bisexual means she wants nothing more than to fulfill the threesome fantasies of heterosexual couples, and even more messages from people who think that because she is “unmarked”, she isn’t looking for anything serious. To be unmarked is to be written off entirely as a romantic partner, or at least as a serious one.

She deletes the dating app, but not before she posts a screenshot of her DMs to her Instagram with a caption finally addressing the rumors that she is unmarked.

I've always been private regarding the subject, but I owe it to anyone else like me to be more candid about my experiences as someone without a soulmark. Yes — I am unmarked, but not unworthy.

That night she’s flooded with messages from others like her, who thank her and repost her message. It’s humbling and uplifting all at once and Evelyn is guilty that she didn’t do it sooner. She responds to as many as she possibly can.

( One message stands out among the rest:

@ teorror: hey @reyevie - if you’re in nyc, my support group would love to have you! we meet at [ …. ] )

vi.

In the end, it’s not another rejection or loneliness or even solidarity that leads Evelyn to finally try talking to others like her.

It’s pettiness, and a lot of annoyance.

A former classmate posts a soulmate announcement on Facebook in which the caption describes meeting her soulmate for the first time as the single most important day of anyone’s life, the center of the human experience.

It makes Evelyn grit her teeth.

She is indignant that anyone would not consider the pain and feelings of inadequacy those words might cause for unmarked youth like the ones she’s received messages from, or her younger self. And she realizes with a pang of regret: it’s not just social media, or dating apps. It’s also the songs that people like Evelyn have written, the films and books that saturate the market that convince everyone that no other kind of love or measure of happiness matters when compared to romantic love.

As much as Evelyn craves it, she refuses to accept that it should overshadow every other aspect of her life.

She scrolls through her messages until she finds the one from @teorror again, inviting her to join his group and decides to show up and prove her point, even if she’s the only one who knows it.

To her initial horror, the group is small. There are only three people there, and Evelyn is just about ready to turn on her heel and walk away rather than join such an intimate gathering when a man bolts from his chair with an overjoyed expression on his face.

“Hey! You actually came!” He goes to her, and offers his hand to be shaked. “Can I call you Ev? Guys! This is Ev! The singer I was telling you guys about? Come on, sit down.”

The man she’s guessing is Teorror (Teo, she’ll later learn) guides her towards the others and the other man produces a chair for her and introduces himself as Rico.

Mercifully, they don’t ask her to introduce herself first or talk first. The woman next to her (Claudia) does, then Rico and Teo. Eventually they all turn to Evelyn.

“You don’t have to share if you’re not ready, Ev.” Claudia says, adopting Teo’s nickname for Evelyn. “The first time can be overwhelming.”

Ev nods, but feels she should try anyway. “I’m Evelyn — and as I guess you’ve figured, I’m also an unmarked.”

Immediately, a shadow crosses over the faces of the others. Evelyn stops.

“We try not to use that word.” Rico says gently and Evelyn can tell he’s taking care to not embarrass her. “It isn’t good to define ourselves by what we don’t have, rather than what we do.”

“Tell us about you. Teo says you’re a singer?” Claudia coaxes helpfully.

Teo offers Evelyn another wide smile. “I used to call myself leftovers. Or spare parts. I thought it was really funny, you know? But they’re right: focusing on what you lack just sets you up for more pain.”

It’s something to think about. She’s back for the session next week.

As the months go by, she sees the group outside of meetings too, starting with a potluck at Teo’s and leading to drinks and mechanical bull rides with Rico, or sightseeing with Claudia. At first she wonders what it might be like to share a soulmark with one of them … to find a soulmate after all … but eventually, she nearly stops thinking of the marks altogether.

Those fantasies end entirely after another night of dancing, as they’re having greasy fast food and Teo slings his arm around her as he tells a story that requires exaggerated facial expressions and wild hand gestures. She laughs and almost misses the moment where Claudia returns to the table with her order and slides her a crispy taco (Ev’s favorite) and Rico picks at the tomato (which Ev’s hates) and places it beside his own burger so that Evelyn won’t have to. They know her well, she realizes, better than anyone. They love her better than anyone …and suddenly Evelyn feels overwhelmed with her love for them in return.

Here is the intimacy she’s been craving her whole life: a love that doesn’t ask her to define herself by it, or insist upon its sole importance. It simply accepts, and gives.

Evelyn can only wonder why she ever thought this wouldn’t be enough.

#long post for ts #bc i dont remember if readmores show up on mobile #evelyn reyes*#tag later #mw*

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collective-laugh · 6 years ago

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Request - Soulmate Preference for the Main Six

Anon asked: Okay, Bruh hear me out, soulmate au for the main six?

I didn’t know which soulmate AU you wanted, so I used the string one (because it’s my favorite lol) If you wanted a different one, just send another request and I’ll get it out asap! Hope you like it!

The AU: Two people are connected by one magical string that leads them together when fate wills it.

Asra liked to tug on his string sometimes, and when the string tugged back, it comforted him to know that whoever was on the other end was in the city. He’d follow it for hours, but he knew better than to push the hands of fate, knew that he wouldn’t find whoever was on the other end of that string until the universe wanted him to. He liked to imagine who it might be, imagine what they look like and what they like and if they can do magic too. His mind runs wild, and he wishes there was a way he could know what they looked like, at the very least. He wants to know them, wants to be able to know who he’s supposed to love for the rest of his life.

After Asra finds them, he laughs, and tears spring to his eyes, and all the situations that he considered, every little conversation starter or funny little thing he could’ve said to start their relationship off, but they step into his shop, and they smile at him first, and he…they tell him that they were looking for a deck of tarot, and Asra laughs, rendered speechless for the first time…ever.

Julian thought it was romantic, in a sense, and then he scoffed, thinking that whoever was on the other end of that string could certainly do so, so much better, and he tries to take one of his scalpels and cut the little red string right off his finger. And…it splits in two, hanging sadly on Mazelinka’s spare bed. He felt empty, inside, like something was stolen from him, but he could tell if it was because the string was gone, or because he was guilty that the string was gone. He ties it back together, the butchered mass of tied red string, and he prays that the person on the other end of the string can forgive them, and, hopefully, still find them.

Julian knows it’s them before the string slips off his finger, by the way they wear their string like a banner of pride, by the way they smile at him and the way their smile just lights up the room, and they just look at him with all the hope and trust he thinks he doesn’t deserve, and he melts before them. They keep holding him in such high esteem, and he can’t grasp why this perfect stream of light want to be with someone like him, but he learns to accept the love he deserves.

Nadia learns to ignore her string. She considers chopping it off, especially after she marries Lucio, because how could she cause someone so much pain as to drag them along on a journey not even she wants to trek? But, she allows herself to hope, not wanting to interfere with the hands of fate, and resigns herself to a life of motions, and stepping through days while she fell away into Lucio’s shadow, just as she had with her sisters all those years ago. She finds herself staring at the horizon when she rides, wondering if she could chase after the string and find whoever was on the other end and spoil them silly, because all she wanted was someone to love and love her equally. The horizon gives her no answers, and all she can do is chastise herself for being so foolish.

Her love comes after she loses all memory of her husband and the headaches have settled into her mind, edging their way into her sleeping pattern. She hastens to the shop that fateful night, and hardly realized that the tired apprentice behind the counter was none other than her soulmate. She paused, looked them over, and watched as their string fell to the ground, completely unceremoniously, and she can only wonder who this person was that they were not only important enough to be her soulmate, but to appear in her visions.

Muriel cuts his string off three times in his life, and every time, it reattaches itself around his finger after he sleeps. The first was while he was still in the arena, still the ‘Scourge of the South’ because he knew he didn’t deserve love, not with all the lives he’d taken. The second was before Lucio died but the plague was running rampant. He didn’t want to find love, didn’t want to see his soulmate suffer, so he knew that if he found them in the midst of the plague, he wouldn’t be able to go on. The third time was just before he met them, as he sat in the comfort of his – his very own – home in the woods, and he sliced it off with a kitchen knife, and relished in the few moments of being completely disconnected from Vesuvia, if only for the night.

They’re not what he’s expecting. They smiled at him from the very start, eyes squinting as if they recognized him but couldn’t remember his name, and then squealed when they saw that he was their soulmate. They were kind, and good, and so very talented at magic, and they saw him as a human, as a man, and wanted him to be free more than anything. He’d become convinced this person couldn’t exist, couldn’t love him, but they don’t push, don’t try to entice; instead, they ask to be a part of his life, and walk through it with him, despite the looming danger threatening to tear them apart.

Portia double knots her string just to be sure she doesn’t lose it, though she’d never really heard of that happening. It was better to be on the safe side, and she knew it was stupid of her to wait up day in and day out for her soulmate to step in and sweep her off her feet, but she knew that under her snark and realist demeanor, she was one hell of a romantic, and couldn’t wait to meet whoever it might be the universe chose for her to love. She hoped she loved them – gods, that kept her up day in and day out, thinking of how she might not love them, or they might not love her, or how they might just stay with her because they were soulmates and it was expected. The thoughts only made her nauseous, so she tried to swear them off until she met them – it was no use judging them before she met them, right?

Portia couldn’t decide whether she was excited or terrified when she bumped into them while on an errand run in the city. Before they could even decide if they were going to walk away from her or help her pick up her things, their strings are falling off, and Portia can forget about remembering the four digit code to the stupid gates because there her soulmate was, standing over her and holding their hand out to her, and she felt like she might freak out. But she was happy. She was so elated she felt like her heart might burst right from her chest, so she throws her arms around them and then, holding them at arm’s length, makes sure to ‘get a good look at them’. The universe did right by her, at least.

Lucio doesn’t really believe in the whole soulmate thing – his parents were certainly not soulmates, and his mom still had her string around her finger like a damn ornament. So, he walks through life enjoying the finer things, those empty vices, and grabs at power with all the help he can possibly get, and he marries Nadia, and he takes over Vesuvia, and he rules, and he wins, and life is finally looking up for him. But the people murmur about his string, love to gossip about how he didn’t wait for the ‘one’. Public image is everything, and thus, he could have been excited for the plague. If it didn’t get him as well, of course.

It’s actually quite a funny story. Lucio was certain that he’d be saying those exact words years in the future if he and this soulmate actually end did up ‘by the cosmic powers of the universe’, and he found some humor in the fact that the love of his life, his soulmate, met him while he was a ghostly, spectral, goat man, bleating about the injustice of it all and planning on taking their body. It was cruel, it was unusual, and it brought a sneer to Lucio’s goatly little lips. The person can only gape at him, at the string that chose then, of all times, to slip off, and they only shake their head and mutter “shit”. He decides immediately that he already likes them.

819 notes · View notes

comicteaparty · 5 years ago

Text

February 12th-February 18th, 2020 Reader Favorites Archive

The archive for the Reader Favorites chat that occurred from February 12th, 2020 to February 18th, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

When applicable, what about a creator’s art might convince you to check out their comic?

carcarchu

I like a wide range of art styles so it's hard to pinpoint specifics but if an artist is able to draw very attractive looking characters (recognizable character designs, outfits that don't look like they came out of 2004 gap catalogue, characters that can still be recognized even when they change their hair style) then i find that very appealing. beyond that how well an artist can integrate the characters with the actual space they exist in is something i find very important as well. a bunch of floating heads can only carry a series so far. if the artist can make the characters feel like they properly exist in the space i think it can really elevate the series although in practice this is something very difficult to do.

Deo101 [Millennium]

For me, honestly some art styles are very inspiring to me and that will sometimes get me to read just because I want to see the art more and learn from it. Things like textures, colors, character design... It can draw me in just by exciting me as a learning opportunity

chalcara

For me art‘s the hook and story the line. Come for the art, stay for the story, you know?

Funnily I‘m looking less for pretty art and more for good visual story telling. I want the art to show whats going on without having to rely on dialogue.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I'm honestly very picky about art styles when it comes to comics, and that's a personal issue It has some to do with art styles being attractive to me, but honestly, the most important aspects of a creator's style to me are (1) consistency of style and anatomy, (2) level of completion, and (3) clear communication of what's happening. When it comes to whether or not I check out the comic initially, the main things that come into play with the promotional materials, covers, and/or thumbnails are contrast of the image and cleanness of the rendering. Of course, obviously, my personal tastes play into it. (I tend to like semi-realistic styles, sort of anime-ish but with a twist, or painted styles that may resemble concept art.) But honestly, probably more important than grabbing me initially to begin reading is readership retention. And that's where the 3 qualities I look for come into play: (1) Consistency of style and anatomy: This is probably the most important part for me as a reader. If I can't tell who is who because the characters change appearance from panel to panel, I'm ducking out, because that affects the clarity of storytelling. I also cringe everytime I see a particularly egregious anatomy error. I know what people look like. I see them every day. If I feel pain from looking at an artist's work, I'm not sticking around. (To be fair, everyone makes some kind of anatomy mistakes, but really it's if the anatomy mistakes are really awful to me and aren't as a result of a deliberate style CHOICE. Keyword, C H O I C E.) (2) Level of completion: This really just means that if it looks like the artist rushed through the panels or they were being lazy, I feel like their comic isn't worth my time. I mean, if an artist themselves doesn't care about their work, why should I?(edited)

. (3) Clear communication of what's happening: Once again clarity of storytelling is absolutely essential. If the composition of a large portion of the panels don't clearly show the actions of the characters, I can't follow the story. Aaaaaand as a bonus: Please, please, for the love of all powers that be, please, make your fonts legible. If I can't read the comic without squinting because your text is too tiny or hard to read, I'm not going to try. I have bad eyesight as it is. Take pity on your readers. I'm not going to suffer for your work. I have dropped far too many comics to count because the creator didn't care enough to make sure that the font was legible. And this applies to both desktop view, mobile view, scrolling format, and page to page format. Just.... Make your fonts big and clear.(edited)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

That's interesting to think about how recognizable characters are when their hair style changes. I might try to use that as a character building exercise

Deo101 [Millennium]

Solid excercise: can you tell them all apart when they're bald and naked?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

OoooooooOOOOOOOOOOHHHH

Might partake that challenge

Deo101 [Millennium]

Also it's really fun to draw characters in all sorts of hair and clothes so idk what id do if I couldn't tell them apart when doing that!!! That's like 40% of my art!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

This just convinces me more and more to do AU art

Deo101 [Millennium]

Yeah aus are another 20% of what i draw LOL

Look im drawing the comic most of the time so I wish to partake in non canon things the rest

carcarchu

@sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD) i've read series before where the character gets a hair cut / dyes it and i'm like WHO ARE YOU? IS THIS A NEW CHARACTER?

Deo101 [Millennium]

Oh another good excercise is drawing your Characters in many different styles and seeing if they remain unique when not in yours.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I want to do all of this

This is stuff I hardly ever have time for

So I am extra attracted to it

Also, there IS a time later in the comic where a certain character's hair gets partially burned off

And then he cuts it pretty short to get rid of the singed edges

And I feel like his hair is like 80% of his character design

So I'm just a little scared about that

Deo101 [Millennium]

Also, @Cronaj (Whispers of the Past) , I am unsure what you mean by "readership retention" with something that makes you interested in a comic, could you explain?(edited)

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

By readership retention, I mean aspects of the art that decide whether I'll continue reading past the first few pages

(obviously story comes into play as well, but I won't pretend that the art in the first few pages of a comic don't contribute)

Deo101 [Millennium]

Oh okay, I thought you meant like how many readers have unfollowed or something

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Nah

More like, "oh cool! Your cover and blurb seem interesting. Lemme check out the comic!"

And then after reading the first few pages/chapter:

"ah... Not for me." Or "Nice, I'll keep reading!"

Deo101 [Millennium]

Gotcha

Capitania do Azar

Ohh I don't feel like dissing particular artsyle choices, but I know a few aren't for me. I'm no big fan of ultra realistic, hyper detailed stuff you usually see in super hero comics (other genres pick that style too sometimes and I still don't really appreciate). I particularly like artstyles that are distinct and recognizable, I have a hard time with stuff from different authors that just looks... Like a carbon copy (sometimes, the style being referenced is waaay too obvious and that is always a big no for me) Good use of color is key. Give me some good values too. I want colors to make sense and I am very tired of pink. I also appreciate consistency. If you give me artwork with a more paintery style but then the comic is cellshaded, that might tip me off. But not necessarily (tho I appreciate inner consistency inside the comic itself). Rushed stuff, like mentioned above, is also not a good look, but only insofar as it distracts me from what's happening in the story. Consistency is a very important word here, because I love seeing a common line that is able to take in all the differences that are necessary in character design and backgrounds, but also make me believe that they all could live in the same world.

Oh! And also: if the artstyle involves using lineart, I am really fond of sharp, clear lines with weight variation

sagaholmgaard

I'm curious about what you guys mean with consistency- do you guys not like if an artist's art style changes over the several years it might take to make a finished webcomic? Is it that it peeves you when the backgrounds are done in, say, a painterly style while the characters are done with lineart? Is it when the artists makes ordinary illustration work in a completely different style from their comic pages? (This is genuine curiosity I hope no one's feeling attacked rn ^^)

carcarchu

i personally really like seeing an artist's skills improve and evolve over the many years it takes to draw a series

even at the expense of a more "consistent" final product

sagaholmgaard

Yeah me too, it's one thing i really like about webcomics

chalcara

Can‘t talk about the others, but I get thrown off when one page is sprite comic, the next painterly, third cell-shaded without having a in-story-reasons for those style changes, like flashbacks or pov-changes. But more commonly, the issue’s the classic „comic‘s usually coloured, but oops, this time you only get the pencils because I had no time to update“. If that happens too often and/or doesn‘t get fixed for the archive I just lose investment in the comic.

Art evolution is natural, both in webcomic and published work with a dedicated artist.

Ah, that‘s another source of inconsistency - people switching colourists or even artists around. Once in a while is fine, but if it happens every month or so, I tend to get annoyed by it. It‘s actually why I killed my first webcomic twenty years ago; it was a collaberation and life kept getting in the way forcing me to switch colourists every five pages or so.

carcarchu

oh actually i have read a webcomic where they changed artist's 18 chapters in. i really fell in love with the magical and dark tone of the original artist and was engrossed in the world that they set up. they had a painterly style and it really set the atmosphere of the entire series but then the new artist had a super clean and cutesy art style and the sudden tonal shift really threw me off. in the long run the new artist was actually extremely consistent and better at actually releasing long chapters and very good quality chapters and the writing actually improved too because of it but it was never able to recapture what it was that i really loved about the original art style. also the new artist changed the character designs a little so the heroine was no longer even recognizable as the same person

since it was relatively early in the series i definitely would have preferred if they just got the new artist to actually redraw the first 18 chapters in the new style just so the change wouldnt be so incredibly jarring

chalcara

Any harsh breaks like that will cause some people to break away from the comic, I found. I dumped one of my favourite-for-years comic because the creator got bored by their main character and completely sidelined her in favour of a group of minor characters I had absolutely no interest in.

Didn‘t mean the comic got worse - by all accounts its still beloved by quite a sizable audience - it just wasn‘t for me anymore.

sagaholmgaard

Ahh that I can relate to. I get super attached to the main character and usually have a hard time getting into any spinoffs with the rest of the cast, even if I want to (and im a hypocrite because i also want to make spinoffs for ever side character in my own comic LOL) i guess if the style changed a LOT from page to page that would throw me off too. that feels like the artist is trying to experiment, maybe making sort comedic comic strips would be more acceptable then? Every style would at least be contained to one strip at least

DanitheCarutor

That's... actually a really good question. I don't really go for a specific aesthetic. Sometimes what's going on in the thumbnail attracts me, or it could be the use of color, the style, a character design. I'll check out a comic with just about any art style. I guess maybe if I have an idea of what the creator is going for with their art? Like, the art may have a lot of kinks, but maybe being able to tell what style they're trying to go for makes me want to check out their work? Honestly, I don't have a really strong art bias, as long as the comic is readable I'll go for almost anything. Maybe I won't check something out if the style looks extremely uninspired... like if it were the most generic, based off Japanese cartoons, style ever then I might give it a pass. But even then I do sometimes check it out anyway, so I really don't know! This question is surprisingly hard to answer! To give my last quip about last week's topic, since I don't want to derail the current one. I feel the creator's personal life is no one's business. I understand if they're a legit bad person, but digging into a creator's life to see if they qualify to be supported is... I dunno. This mindset makes me feel that if someone who liked my work ever tried to get to know me, they would be doing it solely to see if I'm good enough for them, which feels really invasive and predatory. I fully understand most people can't just enjoy something, that's how the world is, it just kinda sucks sometimes. The world kind sucks sometimes. Alright! I'm doing with giving my final thoughts on that subject.(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

The question is specifically about what draws you to art, rather than what turns you away so if you don't want to rag on any art styles that's not what it was asking for I think! Though yes it's very closely related (and it's not bad to say what you don't like)

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

I definitely am more likely to read a comic that has a distinctive style - no particular style preferences, really. Interesting use of colour/value is definitely a bonus. But as long as it's engaging and the composition is good/readable, I don't really mind whether the art is "good" or not.

DanitheCarutor

@Deo101 [Millennium] I wasn't trying to rag on anything. I couldn't specify what about someone's art would draw me to their comic, it was easier to the one thing that might not, but I still said that I may be drawn in regardless. Sorry if I came off like a douchebag, totally not my intention. <_<'

Deo101 [Millennium]

No I know, someone earlier said "I don't feel like dissi g particular styles" I'll be honest I was typing my post as you were and so I didn't even read yours til after I said something(edited)

Just kind of a general thing! Feels like it went to what turns us away instead of what draws us in so just kinda a reminder of the op

sagaholmgaard

Readability is definitely important for me to want to continue following a comic, but what about the art that makes me want to read something...? I definitely have a preference toward cartoony styles overall. A solid character design will make me wanna check out a comic. If the main character has a recognizable silhouette and interesting shape language. I also love really bold lineart, especially if it's used to create shadow and contrast. Interesting color schemes too. I think how the background is drawn can really make me want to read something as well. I know BGs aren't people's favorite thing to draw but to me if the setting looks very well though out and designed, that definitely motivates me to check something out. And awe-inspiring sceneries are always hella cool! I read a lot of things outside of my artistic preferences though, but I think these are the things that might make me pick something up based only on the art itself.

keii4ii

I think I tend to find more appeal in certain compositions, which is a more subtle aspect of style. I am a major sucker for evocative use of backshots/ not-showing-the-(whole)-face, for one thing. Compositions that make full use of the three dimensional space around the figure(s) is another (this doesn't necessarily mean putting a lot of stuff around the character; you can have a mostly empty space and still make it feel very 3D).

(I hope both of those things show in my own works... I just love those things soooo much )

Deo101 [Millennium]

Oh I LOVE when a panel like... Cuts a face. Something about it makes me lose my mind every time

DanitheCarutor

@Deo101 [Millennium] Ooh! Lol sorry about that! I was so caught up with off computer stuff that I didn't notice anything else typing while I was. I haven't read the whole conversation yet, but I can see how it would turn to that. "What draws you in" is a hard topic to stay on. At least I imagine it would be since it's hard for me to talk about.

Ah! I admit I really like shots focused on scale, specifically ones were you can feel how tiny the MC is compared to what the camera is focused on. Does that make sense? Like the panel shows this ginormous thing, and it has the MC in it to show how massive it really is. That's awesome when done right.

Deo101 [Millennium]

Tiny little person. Yes. Very good

DanitheCarutor

Tiny people in giant worlds are the best!

keii4ii

I love those too!

DanitheCarutor

Oh, also this isn't a webcomic, but I've been interested in reading Vinland Saga after seeing this page on Twitter.(edited)

Something about extremely hideous expressions on semi-realistic faces jives with me.

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

What draws me in easiest is the design aspect of characters, environment and the webcomic title! It's a bit of a turn off when the title doesn't look polished. That's one of the main draws for me is an intriguingly designed logo with a catchy name that follows through their chosen aesthetic. I've seen many comics that stand apart from the title image they chose and it's a bit jarring to see! Great examples of wonderful execution of these aesthetics are BlackOut City, O'Sarilho, Sink Your HookTeeth and Shadrunners(obvs there are many more) I have to agree with @sagaholmgaard about backgrounds! There are quite a few creators who avoid them and stick to simple colours and gradients that just dont keep me in the comic- though my fave genres include a lot of world building, so BGs in a romance may not be emphasized as much. Lastly, dynamic character design!! I love a wonderfully crafted cast that allows me to read the characters easily no matter what setting or outfit they're in. Also it's really random but i do love an artist who can draw really good shoes?? That is always a draw in for me (edited)

Capitania do Azar

Oh I meant it in the way that if you spend a lot of time experimenting with different styles and techniques, you'll never be good at any of them. Style and approach changing over time is, imo, inevitable and good :) @sagaholmgaard(edited)

@@FeatherNotes(Krispy) I constantly think my logo looks like crap next to other webcomics', so thank you (edited)

DanitheCarutor

Oh god, @FeatherNotes(Krispy). Titles and logos are legit my weakest point, that part of the comic creation process is the worst! I have this cosmic-horror/fantasy comic I've been developing since 2005, and it took me till just last year to come up with a decent title. It'll probably take another 14 years to come up with a passable logo. Lmao!

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

It is really hard! Because that image/logo and name represents the body of work so firmly, its also got to stand strong with what it's representing and stand up to other titles too! Basically, i like to think of something that will help generate top results when i search on google for the title, which to me helps it stand on its own on the web, and sound catchy enough for pitches in person! I don't want to steer the convo away too much from the prompt, but there is definitely more to discuss about titles and their chosen aesthetics

varethane

@DanitheCarutor have you read Golden Kamuy? If you love hilariously hideous expressions in manga, it seems like it may be your jam lol

(it's also set in a specific historical period and contains a lot of really interesting material about the time/place it takes place in)

Also I feel like I have never, even one time in my life, come up with a good title for anything-- both Chirault and Wychwood are placeholder titles that I used just to kinda name the story for myself, which I initially intended to change when something better came along, and then nothing ever did

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I know I'm generally drawn into a comic if it's just... generally a visual feast? And it doesn't even have to be a beautiful feast - just... a feast! A super intriguing artstyle, beautiful or not, is something for my brain to pick apart and enjoy. Detailed backgrounds, intricate costumes, fascinating presentation/layout... all the way to crazy expressions and fun asides, and even some gory or scary bits to make me go EEK. Basically, if I'm reading it, and my hand is twitching with the prospect of drawing fan art, then I'm in for good.

DanitheCarutor

@FeatherNotes(Krispy) Urg that is such a nightmare! And there are only so many different styles you can do for a logo, and so many variations of words, it's like how there aren't any truly original stories anymore. I got lucky with the title for my current comic, it's the most generic thing ever, but fits in a tongue-in-cheek way. @varethane I've never heard of it, but the face compilations I'm seeing are intriguing! Man, I love stupid facial expressions.

Capitania do Azar

@varethane golden kamuy, I see you are a fellow of taste as well

varethane

(I love it so much)

Capitania do Azar

@DanitheCarutor oh idk about the "only so many things you can do with logos", I've seen amazing things in this world, if there's a limit I'm not seeing it

varethane

(I can always tell exactly when I was binging it because there's a big chunk of my phone's photo gallery that's all screencaps of Asirpa making dumb faces)

Capitania do Azar

@varethane guys shooting each other in the woods? I'm always in for that

DanitheCarutor

@Capitania do Azar Lol I guess? I can't see how you can have an infinite number of designs for writing, while still trying to keep it vaguely readable. But I really don't like lettering, so my imagination is hardcore lacking in that department.

Capitania do Azar

Lettering and logo design are their own fields of expertise, it's ok

meek

Hmm I'm similar to a lot of previous responses where I can't pinpoint a specific style or trend of art work that draws me in because the styles of comics I read differ incredibly. That being said, there are some things that I do look for to keep me coming back: 1) Consistency of style/anatomy: unless there's a specific reason for the general art style to change (not including semi-deformed or chibi versions of characters), I appreciate characters staying proportionate or just otherwise consistent throughout the comic. And art evolution isn't something that's at odds with consistency, it can actually help that by making characters more distinct and easier to distinguish from each other. 2) Potential for art evolution: Almost the opposite of the previous point lmao but if I find a new comic and I see the latest page is of a much higher skill level than the first page, I'm immediately hooked. I want to see the journey. And I want to see how far that journey goes, even past the point where the art "gets good". There's at least one comic that I can think of where once it hit the style that it wanted to, the art has stayed consistent for the past several years but so much so it's almost plateaued and become stagnant. It's still good art, by all means! But I want to see it grow and evolve more. 3) Good panel/speech layout: Okay it's not quite art in the same sense but someone else mentioned this above and I think it's important too? There are so many comics I can think of that I couldn't read or I dropped off at a point because reading was a chore, either because of giant or unsightly speech bubbles, tiny or ill-fitting font, a combination of the two, etc. Sure, graphic design and layout is a skillset completely different from pure illustration, but it's one worth knowing because otherwise you could do a disservice to your art and your story.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

@meek Seriously, the text is so important to me, and I consider it a large part of page layout and design

meek

Agreed!! It's something that bothers me with printed comics all the time. I've tried to read so many "classic" graphic novels and I just.. I can't get past the giant text boxes with small font with miniscule kerning and ESPECIALLY if they then add color to it. Please, keep in mind your readers with reading difficulties But to turn this into a positive One of my favorite things that also helps make a comic feel more personal is when the creator turns their handwriting into a font or otherwise have FUN with the speech bubbles

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

YES. As someone with bad eyesight, typography is one of my favorite aspects of finishing a comic page.

Deo101 [Millennium]

It also is super important for me with ADHD, reading is hard enough as is! so bubble layout and clarity can really bring the whole thing together and elevate a comic

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I tried that but got the feedback that my text is hard to read and the way i format my speech bubbles is distracting (: But some people have said they really like it so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Though I do think I could have done better with the font. I have good eyesight and bad handwriting do I think i have a much easier time reading weird text than many. Since you guys care so much about text, would you mind taking a quick glance at my comic and telling me how readable it is? It'd be nice getting feedback from random people as opposed to only my readers who felt strongly enough to leave a comment unprompted

meek

Oh man I have this specific panel in mind from some early 2006 Avengers comic of like.. what not to do Basically it was a bright yellow text box with this white/light blue font. It was just. It was a nightmare to read Oh sure!! Definitely send me a link

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Yep! Send me a link too! I'd love to help you out

I also have a good typography book to recommend if you're interested. I can drop it into #art_resources(edited)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Here is link: https://www.webtoons.comen/challenge/puppeteer/list?title_no=290620

Thanks for taking the time to give me critique!

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

The link's not working, but I can probably find it on Webtoon

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

And I think i dould find a typography book interesting, so yes please do send the link

Sorry, i think the link is missing a slash

Did we both delete the link

Deo101 [Millennium]

did we both delete a

yah

i got it

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Lol

Deo101 [Millennium]

https://www.webtoons.com/en/challenge/puppeteer/list?title_no=290620

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Thanks

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I found it

(The font is a bit small on mobile, but the font is fine?)

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Wait can we move to shop talk?

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

(maybe we can have this discussion on shop talk channel? )

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Sure

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

OH LOL

DanitheCarutor

@Capitania do Azar Oh god, they so are! I envy anyone who enjoys that craft, I'm a lot better than I was, but lettering is still so hard. ;v; At least the fancy stuff is hard, regular speechbubble lettering is easy as long as my hand cooperates.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

There's a book I had to read for a web design course I took, and it is seriously a life saver

It put text in a whole new perspective

DanitheCarutor

I do all my lettering traditionally, but maybe that book would be helpful, I legit hate doing it no matter what medium I use. (sorry for continuing to derail the channel.)

Capitania do Azar

@DanitheCarutor i used a website that converts handwriting to fonts + font forge for tweaks to get personalised fonts

DanitheCarutor

I used to type bubbles out, and I've thought about it for my current comic but I mix up words and letters really bad, and I forget to add words entirely while typing. It wouldn't be so bad if my brain saw the mistakes while rereading everything, although sometimes it takes a couple days or another set of eyes for me to actually see them. When I write the bubbles in with a pen I make a lot less mistakes since it takes more effort to write out each letter, also my brain can keep better track of the ones I do make. I feel like that's an excuse that makes no sense.

Deo101 [Millennium]

no it totally makes sense

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

I can't say I'm ever especially drawn in by art? Besides the sense of "it looks like a lighthearted action story and I like lighthearted action stories", not much catches my eye. Though, I will drop a comic if I'm put off by the art. Like I can forgive if some things look janky at the start of the comic, but if that jankiness doesn't improve over time, I'll drop the comic. I'll also drop the comic if the character designs are bad (i.e. indistinguishable from each other, or in rare cases just too gross to look at). But again, I can't exactly say "good character designs draw me into the comic" because a lot of comic banners/thumbnails don't really show off full character designs.

chalcara

Varied bodytypes are catnip for me. And I like comics with expressive characters over comics that limit expressiveness to keep the characters pretty.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Oh, definitely agree with that second part. Comics where it looks like everyone has had a ton of Botox is a huge pet peeve of mine

Like, eyebrows are not the only part of the face that can move.

Do more

renieplayerone

Yeah i agree with the janky art thought. I think it helps me follow through the jank if i see that the later pages, the artist has shown growth, and i dont want to force anyone into a "gotta redraw it" loop if thats not something they want (of course everyone has their reasons and theyre also valid af) Ill tend to be more forgiving about the jank if i know its someones first webcomic or first comic in general, because you cant learn how to make comics without actually sitting down and making the dang thing. So yeah, the jank can be a double edged sword(edited)

What super draws me in is comics with a great sense of color. While i love anything vibrant, if the softer watercolors are done well, they're chefs kiss. Prime example of that is Stand Still Stay Silent

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I've been thinking about this question all week and I think I finally boiled my answer down to something short, sweet, and to the point. It's gotta be some kind of spooky and some kind of cute I have a pretty broad range of art styles I like and I definitely also read stuff that doesn't fall under those categories, but I think my favorite stories or artists are some blend of those two things. I don't really have a preference between color and greyscale. Like I definitely love a good color feast comic, but if you know how to use your grey tones or even just black and white well it's just as good for me. Maybe that's also just me trying to justify being mostly a greyscale artist to myself TuT

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

@mariah (rainy day dreams) devils candy would def be up your alley then!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Devil's candy v good

renieplayerone

Devils Candy is amazing

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I love to combination of cute monsters and action also.

DanitheCarutor

@renieplayerone I'm not sure if it fits totally with your preference, but if you're looking for watercolor Lost Honey is gorgeous! https://www.losthoney.com/

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Lost Honey is another great comic great to look at, really interesting world

DanitheCarutor

It's one of my faves! ;v; There is another comic that was half watercolor half digital that I used to love reading (if I remember right pages set in the current time were digital, and backstory stuff was in watercolor.), but it has been discontinued for years now. It was called Toilet Genie/D00R, a comic about a genie who was locked in a public toilet and was awakened by a pug that got thrown out by her owners. It was so pretty, with such an interesting style!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Oh wow I haven't thought about that comic in 5 years! X'D I didn't read much of it, because I don't think there was much of it available at the time, but yeah, that one was also very pretty (edited)

renieplayerone

Oh those colors are really pretty!!

DanitheCarutor

Right? Lost Honey is total eye candy. @mariah (rainy day dreams) Yeah, it's sad the creator never got to finish it. I think about it every so often since it's one of the extremely rare (semi)watercolor webcomics out there.

Also I'm extra attached to traditional mediums since I work in a traditional medium myself.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Same. Got that ink wash/watercolor bias.

Eilidh (Lady Changeling)

My current comic is marker shaded but I so want to do something with ink wash after this one...

DanitheCarutor

Yeah, right now I'm working with color pencils since they're cheap but I want to give gouache or acrylic a try for my next project, depending on which story I do.

Kabocha

Hm, the question is... a lil' challenging to answer. I think in a lot of cases, the art isn't necessarily what gets me, but when it does -- Sometimes it's when someone uses a resource I like/made and I can go "OOOH! I know that thing you used!" Screentones are another one that gets my attention pretty quick. Sparkles... And probably effective spot color use. As much as I enjoy many full color webcomics, there are many that get tiring to try to read for one reason or another (usually it's either a font or a saturation issue - too many similarly saturated colors near one another gets tiring to read). Also, soft coloring. Oooh, just... when the art feels like it ought to be printed on those soft-touch covers... Yeah, that gets my attention. ...and watercolor/inkwash, too. ... okay that's a lot of things that grab my attention, but tl;dr: oh hey look at all that cool stuff that people can do!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

That was part of what was so hard for me thinking about this question cuz really, a lot of things get my attention X') and the more I thought about it the more I was like "I like when a comic is like X, but oh also Y is great and I do really enjoy Z as well!" I just ... like so many things. But I think that's better than being really picky. I've meet some folks that are super picky about art and basically only like one style and I'm just like... you're missing out on so many amazing things!

Kabocha

Right? And heck, even in some comics where the style would normally be unappealing (to me), there's just something about the art and the aesthetic that clicks to make it all work together for that project.(edited)

I do think, though, that there's always going to be a special place in my heart for greyscale or screentoned comics. There's just something about art that knows how to effectively make use of shading and contrast to make their work... well, work for me.

kayotics

Art is probably the first thing that draws me in to read a comic. The top, top tier thing that gets me to pay attention to a comic is really strong inks. I love inking, and unusual inking styles. To those who know me, that's probably incredibly unsurprising. I also love really angular styles. Some other stuff I gravitate towards: cartoony styles, expressive faces, and kind of ugly characters. I enjoy seeing characters that might be described as plain or are drawn in a bit of an ugly way. The last thing that draws me in? Hands. If an art style pays attention to hands, then I'm all for it.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Does a comic have characters with big, crooked, toothy grins? I'm down for the count X'D https://media.tenor.com/images/618576ebcc4f6d2a12438624be77c54f/tenor.gif

varethane

oh hey, did someone mention webcomics done in ink wash/marker?

Chirault was that!

1367 pages of..... ink with greyscale marker..........

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

honestly blows me away that you toned it traditionally like, all of GJS is inked trad, but to ink AND tone in marker is just.....damn

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

I love ugly characters

RebelVampire

When it comes to art, I'd say there are about four factors that will draw me in. First, readability. Can I visually follow wtf is going on in the comic? I have no interest in the visuals if I can't understand what action characters are taking. So the first point is always for if that is true. Second, character distinguishability. Can I tell one character from another? I am notoriously bad even in real life at being able to tell people apart, so when reading for fun, it's super important to me that I don't have to put a lot of effort into telling characters apart (exceptions for identical twins, of course). Third, personal appeal. Do I think the art is pretty or cute? Like, obviously this is subjective so I can't really put into words why I'd find one style appealing and the other not. But ya know, I like stuff I think is pretty to look at. Fourth, backgrounds. If a creator puts a lot of effort into their background scenery, I'm very sold on it. I love beautiful backgrounds, and the effort put into them give me an overall better impression of the comic as a whole. Since it takes some real passion to take care with backgrounds. All this being said, I'm not much of a stickler for art. If a comic is well-written enough, they can fail all these points and I'll still read it. This is just a list of what aspects have to be in the art for it to draw me in.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

My points are pretty much the same as Rebel's, with the addition of a few things: I adore comics with dramatic facial expressions and consistently excellent anatomy. Also, if the art style is unique? If I feel like I've never seen someone draw that way before? That's ++. So good. I've read comics where I thought the art was good but the story was mediocre, but I've never read a comic where the art met all my points (and Rebel's), where it made me go, "holy fuck," audibly, and then had the story disappoint. Comics where the art made me go "holy fuck" audibly: Excecutioner's Academy: The art is so pointy and colorful and detailed and weird. It's full of personality and life and so are the characters. Warning: hiatus comic ): https://tapas.io/series/Ex-Ac Ava's Demon: You guys know about Ava's Demon, right? With original music and animations ending every chapter, this might be the most effortful comic I've ever seen. https://www.avasdemon.com/pages.php#2611 Sfeer Theory: Everyone looks so different from each other, it's fantastic. Some characters are not conventionally beautiful, yet they're still so appealing. And backgrounds! And a thought-out and unique magic system! https://sfeertheory.com/comic/01-00/ Electric Bones: Backgrounds! Banter! http://electricbonescomic.com/index.php/comic/page-001/ I also loved Prague Race, but unfortunately it was cancelled ):

If anyone else has recommendations for comics with amazing art, I'd love to hear them!

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

For me, it just has to be an art style I like to attract my attention. I generally like realistic art, stylised art, or pretty much any style that hasn’t been done to death (like generic anime art; much as I love manga, I’m really tired of the over-saturation of bland and soulless anime-inspired art). Pretty much anything unique and well executed will grab my attention. I especially like greyscale and limited palettes.(edited)

And just to clarify, I do like anime-style art when it has expression and/or skill behind it; just not when it looks generic and manufactured. Overall, though, it’s the writing that’s ultimately the most important thing to me in a comic, so I’ll enjoy comics for their writing even if I’m not a fan of the art.

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #reader favorites

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kawai-kettu · 7 years ago

Text

We need to talk about The Death Cure (3/5)

We need to talk about the Death Cure :

1. The Movie in General

2. Scene by Scene

3. The characters

4. The pairings

5. Random thoughts

The characters

- I loved, absolutely loved Teresa in this. I’ve always been fond of her character as played by Kaya Scodelario, but honestly? I’ve felt so bad for her, for how much she’s been trying, to no avail. For the sacrifices she’s made, even if no one acknowledges them : accepting to be hated, to be isolated, to lose people, all for the sake of helping people she doesn’t even know… She really takes after her namesake, Mother Teresa, wanting to help all of humanity, not discriminating between rich and poor, contrary to Janson’ dreams of a transformed society. I liked how incredibly strong she is, focused on her goal ; yet, she has clear limits, that’s for sure, and she’s being eaten alive by her guilt over what she’s doing (that scene of her trying to explain to a vegetative Minho that they’re doing good, I felt so bad for her ç___ç ), but… She still does what (she feels) needs to be done. We get an example of that when she injects the new serum to Shai : everyone except her flinches when witnessing this child’s pain, even though she clearly cares for the child. I also like that though she has sided with WCKD, she’s still different from them, and it’s made clear in the way she’s dressed. For example, for the business meeting, she’s wearing a suit vest, looking business like….. except it’s worn over a dress, a pretty one but not a very formal one, making her look like she tried to look like Ava but isn’t really like her at her core. As for the rest of her outfits, I was under the impression she went for casual and practical, but I need to rewatch to confirm that.

- I’ve been wanting to shake and strangle Thomas for most of the movie, for his mistakes and errors of judgment ; he’s acting out of good reasons, but he’s also reckless, impulsive and not thinking things through… ….which I loved. I hate perfect characters, and Thomas, in all of his faults, is believable, real and incredibly human (plus a realistic teenager). I’ve also been wanting to hug him so much, he broke my heart. DOB really delivers, with his acting, showing how guilty Thomas feels, how much he really hopes he’ll find a way to atone and make things right for his friends, at least for them, and for everyone if possible. He doesn’t necessarily voice it (though his exchange with Brenda about this is amazing, and totally a character defining moment), but the many shots where he looks broken, right from the start of the movie, speak volumes. He doesn’t care for the rest of the world, for humanity in general, contrary to Teresa, but he would accomplish miracles for his friends (……sadly, sometimes, even miracles are not enough). …….seriously, I hope someone makes sure he’s okay in Paradise, because he’ll need a therapy.

- Newt…. oh gods, Newt. He’s so very complex too and rendered that way. Capable of thinking silently, but also of voicing doubts, with his clever sense of humour. And despite this, following Thomas’ crazy ideas (which, I wonder, can be seen as a sign Thomas makes him want to live wildly or that following Thomas is a kind of suicide). Not only that, but Newt seems to be the only one to understand how Thomas work, that the guy will focus on his current objectives, disregarding everything else. Therefore, Newt places himself as a defender, a protector, looking for dangers that Thomas doesn’t see, and he intervenes when he thinks the situations needs to. For example when they’re at the protes, Newt is the one looking out for dangers, in this case, the approaching soldiers. For another example, see Newt protecting Thomas from getting shot by Janson :D Or, more subtly…. at the Rebels' HQ, Newt keeps shooting silent glances at Thomas, very quickly, then at Gally, and less often at Fry. On a different and more depressing note, I liked how they played out his illness. Given how in control of himself Newt is, he manages to hide his state and slow the illness far longer than Brenda or Winston did. Yet they needed to show this somehow, so how Newt is very obviously playing with his hand now and then, until it starts to really get worse. And at the very end, I absolutely loved this shot of him looking at the hellish street, the fire, with the music picking up and the image getting blurry, it was an incredible way to symbolize him losing to the virus, really ç___ç

- Minho was amazing too, we got to see a very different side of him. In previous scenes, we had seen a fighter, a strong, composed character, charismatic and secure in his strength. But in The Death Cure.... Well... At the beginning, he looked so much more vulnerable, tired, weakened .....yet not broken : I loved the way he kept rebelling. Like his death glare at the beginning, when Janson is picking at him knowing Thomas rescue mission failed… But also, later the way he played at Teresa, just to be able to let his rage explode. He’s clearly a ball of frustration and anger and resentment at being treated like an animal. Also, I love how his quick thinking and reflexes are highlighted too, the way he cleverly uses every opportunity and manage to wait for the right moment, even when he’s been tortured for a year and should be definitely broken (he must have been a difficult prisoner, I want to hear all the things he pulled on them XD). He doesn’t let his anger control him, instead acting clever yet also using his instinct, which is clearly what differentiates him from Thomas. Also…. I love how he’s still the powerhouse of the group ; I would have wanted even more of that. Where Thomas is overpowered by Janson, Minho (even when he’s weakened after a year of captivity) still manages to win a fight against at least three men, one of which having a weapon, and another combat trained.

- Frypan is the cutest guy in this movie, I wanted to protect him from this all and bring him back to a safe place. Seriously, he made me chuckle so much but also made me smile whenever he talked. I felt bad for him, too, worrying for everyone, with his big and soft heart, not built for these crazy adventures but still trying and following the others. I kept watching his reactions, and I wish we’d seen more of him, seriously, he was not used enough. (Which is made it very difficult to get a decent picture of him)

- I liked Brenda, but I liked her far more in the second part of this movie. When she had to make difficult decisions, decisions that killed her, like leaving Thomas behind, I was happy to see her live by the advice she had given Thomas, accepting that she has to, for the sake of the group of children she’s in charge of. I’ve loved her raw energy and crazy adrenaline-addiction, kinda reminding me of Clara in DW but also underlining how much she’s a spiritual daughter to Jorge. And I loved how brave she was, she really shone in the bus scene, having grown from the presence of both male characters she was linked with (Jorge and Thomas). And she clearly has the shoulders to take control ; it would be awesome to see what she’ll become in the next years, but it’s a given she’ll grow to become even more badass. I think it’s also this survivalist mentality, taking responsibility for the people she saved, that separates her from Thomas, who would endanger the group for the sake of his closest ones, I think. (Also........I prefered her with short hair though.)

- I’ve been so happy to see Gally again, he’s one of my faves and has been since TMR (He’s complex and interesting and I feel so sad that he’s considered by many to be a bad guy, given that his point of view is VERY sensible, I would have sided with him). In TDC, he doesn't disappoint : all of his lines made me grin, he’s just awesome, right from the moment he's introduced. Okay, I knew he’d be in there, so I recognized him instantly, and I'm not sure if we're supposed not to recognize him. There’s a clear disbelief on his part when he spots Thomas and you don’t need to see his face to get that ; despite the fact that he could have left it at that, he decides to save these old "friends" and confront them and I think that's what is key to me liking his character : he has changed, yet remains the same. Through it all, he reacts with far more composure, he's calmer and not as hot headed, yet he's still sarcastic and defiant. In TMR, he was protecting what took him so much energy to build, with fear and something akin to despair ; in TDC, it’s clear he’s lost what was his most treasured place, his security, and the year was probably horrible to him, but he also seem to have learnt a lot on himself and accepted that his place is not one of a leader and is content in that, in this hellish place. And I like that.

- I absolutely adore Janson as a bad guy, with his dangerous or fed-up smiles. I treasure all these moments when he’s clearly feeling murderous inside but is trying to control himself (omg, like the “What bus?” line XD). I think he has rough days XD and I love how he’s come to the point of hating Thomas, and that this hate is tangible XD At first viewing, though, I thought he was too reckless in his behaviour at first, given that up to this moment, he had been composed. Well, if he has caught the Flare (and given that he has access to the Serum, we don’t know when exactly he got infested, though I would suppose it’s very recent - see the Random Thoughts theory about that), it would make more sense that he takes bad, reckless decisions. Or maybe he’s just a not very subtle asshole.

- I like Jorge, but I wish they’d been more subtle with the treatment of his character. Him going berserk at being separated from Brenda? While I love the extremely strong father bond he has for her, it did seem…. OOC, for the guy who was so composed when we met him. Apart from this, he seemed more laid back, compared to the previous film, though still focused on protecting Brenda. I took it as a clue that…. now that he’s sided with the Right Arm, he feels like he’s done all he possibly could to ensure both of their safety and so he’s more relaxed and looking less like a calculating fox (…I liked him as a calculating fox, he wasso much cooler ç__ç).

- Vince was badass, and the greatest leader they could have picked. In the first two movies, the boys had doubts about Thomas’ crazy plans, but they still followed him after he proved he could get away using nothing but crazy schemes and chance ; there, we can see Vince is okay with risky plans, but he favours controlled risks and accepts some risks depending on the expected gains….. meaning that this time, Thomas doesn’t win when he suggests a wild rescue mission, because Vince is having none of that, putting more importance on the survival of the group, than on one individual. I also liked, very much, the relation he seemed to have formed with Thomas, looking like a surrogate father to him. He seems to care for the kid a lot, despite still, as a leader, not wanting to endanger the group, and seriously, I wanted more scenes between the two, with Vince trying to guide Thomas while still admiring his determination and boldness. Also, did I mention he was badass and not afraid of a challenge? (…….Now I want a viking UA with Vince as the viking chief and Thomas as his adopted son.)

- I’m still not sure about Ava, and how we’re supposed to read her character. Because for real, she’s still behaving pretty ruthlessly at the beginning. When she has this conversation with Janson about shooting a crowd of citizens, it sounded on first viewing like she was disapproving, but seriously, on second viewing, she’s not. She’s blaming him for not managing to kill Thomas and telling him to deal with that quickly. …….she only seems to buy herself a conscience when she realizes she has lost the fight, that they won’t find a cure in time, and that it was all in vain. I think her sudden evolution is more betraying that she’s afraid of possible consequences in an afterlife, and suddenly wanting to try to be… forgiven her trespasses somehow? (……..well, I still think you’re a bad woman, Ava. I don’t know about afterlife authorities, but I’m not sold T_T)

- I wish we’d seen Lawrence more, even though…. …..okay, I don’t like him as a character, but he was interesting. I loved his exchange with Thomas about what he could want. Thomas, who is focused on surviving, thinks Lawrence wants time, wants more days to live. Except this only highlights that Thomas is a very…. simple guy, very ‘pure’ kind of soul. He doesn’t spontaneously assume that Lawrence could want something else, could want revenge. I also love that they don’t make it clear right away, what he’s after, but make it cryptic “Is that what I need?” ……also, I hadn’t understood at first viewing that Lawrence was the reason why they took the serum vials with them, but it was, right? (I also wonder if he sees himself as a messiah like figure?)

- I know we haven’t seen her lots, but I love Harriet. She’s dangerous, yet her smile is beautiful and she seems so protective ç___ç also, Aris seemed to have grown up sooo much ç___ç I liked hat Harriet didn’t take part to the rescue mission (protect your loved ones, girl, that’s the way to go, you’re the best ç___ç )

#tdc #tdc spoilers #No I still ain't done #Never stoppiiiiing #It makes me want to do the same for the first two movies #thomas #newt #minho #brenda #teresa #jorge #vince #janson #ava #harriet #gally #frypan

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