#they were stuck in a bunker for the entirety of the apocalypse

[thegirlinthetardisat221b]

I am once again having emotions about Ada Lovelace, Babbage, and Nicola Tesla

[savrenim]

I feel like perhaps my problem is that all my stories eventually metamorph into tragedies. No idea what that says about me! Anyways thank you for the advice :)

I think there’s something super valid about that and I’ve noticed it happening a fair bit to me too so more rambles after the cut?

so this one is coming from a very personal place so I suspect it’s very very different for everyone, but as a kid, my absolute favorite story if I’d had to pick one was Lord of the Rings. especially the movies, I was obsessed with the costuming and production values and music and just the immersive nature of it all, it was gorgeous and I loved it and everything about it sorry legit lotr fandom I have not read the silmarillion but the thing that always stuck out the most to me was how real the ending felt, specifically Frodo not feeling like he was able to return to the Shire because he was too different, the world had changed too much for him

and my childhood felt like a constant battle against the forces of Evil that were trying to crush and destroy my world completely, and the degree to which I fought back, I won, I escaped -- suddenly out in the world I no longer had to be constantly fighting (at least against forces that were specifically trying to crush me instead of, like, general capitalism) and I was a bit at a loss. didn’t know what to do. it didn’t feel like it could be over, what was left in the world after years and years of fighting that consumed the entirety of my world, even if it didn’t destroy it completely. 

and I never really found an answer, until taz: balance? which I won’t spoil at all if you’re unfamiliar and it is long and a podcast and seems like it’s just a joke and everything is comedic bit after comedic bit (some somewhat more crass than others, although none crossed a line for me) and then it just hits you with 

and it genuinely broke my heart and pieced it back together again because suddenly it became a story about characters that had gone through a lifetime of constantly fighting against something that felt like the end of the world and then the ending wasn’t “oh. we’ve saved the world but we’ve changed and this is no longer home”, it was “oh, we’ve saved the world and we’ve changed, and we can make this home.”

and that was weirdly life-changing to me to see that in a story, where the main cast after going through hell could happily settle down into a civilian life which while it wasn’t necessarily a fairy-tale “happily ever after” they didn’t have to fight constantly anymore and didn’t need to and it didn’t destroy them so much that they couldn’t live. they rebuilt, and it was beautiful. there are probably parts of me that are never going to not be consciously or subconsciously preparing to be attacked, but that’s okay, I’m okay with that part of me, and I can live in a mostly chill world where I don’t need to fight without cutting that part out of me, because life exists beyond the end of the world.

a lot of the stories that I’ve written or am writing are either directly about or contain characters based on/ settings/ themes/ arcs/ etc of how I feel. sometimes intended to vent, sometimes intended to comfort. when I had a stupidly huge crush on a camp-counselor-turned-mentor at age 14, the plots of the novels that I wanted to write were “dramatic ya protagonist saved the world oh and also they totally do end up with their several-years-older-but-like-not-too-much-older super cool mentor figure. and it’s all okay because that person is there after Defeating The Evil so it’s totally a happily ever after.” when I’d escaped my abusive household but oops things still were falling apart bc mental health, the stories were “the world is ending biblical imagery this time and time exists as a cycle and consistently always ends and ends like this and the story follows the archangels at the end/beginning of the world as they slowly in horror learn that after killing the archdemons they’ve been fighting for all of existence and time turns and begins again and new archangels appear and cast them out of heaven, that they were the archdemons all along, and there is nothing they can do to change a history that is set in stone to repeat itself and they can just watch as they either slowly sink into insanity and lose sentience and become mindless beasts, or lose hope so much that they lose the will to fight back against their fate and decide to make their past/future selves pay and start the apocalypse all over again” or “alternate universe historical cold war with aliens at a science research base where like the first solid half of the story is the families of all the researchers get trapped in their bunker and the air filtration system isn’t working and they suffocate while the researchers outside watch, also everything has been nuked so even if we succeed in calling off the second wave civilization as we know it is over” or there’s not even any plot so I can only describe it as a psychological horror brainwashing dystopia larp where the fundamental horror besides the inherent horror of the octagon house stemmed from the fact that reality itself seemed to be unravelling at the seams, nothing about the world or knowledge about the world could be trusted, even a happy ending barely felt like a victory or an escape bc the characters didn’t know if everything was about to dissolve into nothingness or if their world even really existed 

anyways things got better and my writing is no longer that, although I’m strongly considering one day polishing up and making something of some of those pieces bc they were pretty cool. but also.....my stories are slightly less obvious about it now but still are just dumping grounds for what I’m feeling trash novel started because I went “you know what there’s too much sadness in my life and my DnD campaigns I want a story where the MC is super powerful and badass and nothing bad happens to her and I can rest assured in that fact and, like, build the rest up from there” and Saes ended up being the “hmmm had childhood trauma but chill and over it” character and Luka ended up being the “hmmm what if I was able to actually act on all of the rage that I felt about my situation instead of keeping it diplomatic to my family constantly” I personally find it impossible to write something that I do not personally feel in some way. mostly because writing is a hobby for me to vent emotions? so.... why am I writing it if I don’t personally feel it type deal, and then editing it and balancing it out and turning it into an actual readable story happens afterwards. if you find things are tending towards tragedy, and always tend towards tragedy when you write, my personal advice at least would be either:

(a) lean into it. write tragedy. write at any given time what vents your emotions the most and gives you the most catharsis, and let your story just be a punching bag for anything terrible that you want to unload. bc it’ll feel like that for the readers too, sometimes everything just needs to be horrible and smashed and get it out and let it be that, it’s okay.

(b) convince yourself in your heart of hearts that there is life after trauma. that some things can never be fixed but they can grow and change and work around the broken bits. write everything that makes your story as terrible and as much of a tragedy as you’d planned. and then make it okay to live afterwards. because if there’s one thing that humans are absolutely incredible for being able to do, it’s keep living and keep making life worth living.

you might write totally different than I do in which case this advice might be thoroughly trash in terms of finding inspiration to write something non tragic. and, like, if you do write from your feelings.... current global situation and general hopes for the future in terms of climate change and fascism and plague all feels hopeless kind of for the human race in general? but humans are pretty hard to destroy. as pessimistic as I feel about current trajectory of the world, civilization might collapse in the next hundred or so years, but I don’t think humanity will be gone. and even if it does go, life certainly won’t be gone. hell as a mathematician I know that there is life out there on other planets, that we live in a universe brimming with life; organic molecules form far too easily and there are far too many planets out there for statistically there not to be more. nothing that’s happening right now can touch a universe that is full of life, and I can live day by day making the world maybe a slightly better place for the people around me, and that’s a good a reason to hope as any. 

just.... write for yourself first and foremost, and what’ll come out will be something beautiful and worthwhile. tragedy or no.

[whumptasticwednesday]

Insult to Injury ft. Dadneto (Peter Maximoff - X-Men)

Author’s Note: Hey, ya’ll. I’ve been burning the midnight oil to get this fic out on time, AKA 2 consecutive nights of staying up till’ 3 am. I’ve had the idea for a Peter-centric Dadneto whump fic for a decent amount of time, and after receiving a lovely anonymous prompt, I decided to incorporate both my idea and theirs. Here we’ve got Peter after the events of Apocalypse, debilitated, and accidentally giving himself a nasty case of salmonella, before Erik comes to help. I’m pretty proud of this one, so I hope you enjoy it! This fic is unedited, sorry, so please let me know if there’s any glaring issues. For my next fic, I’m shifting away from X-Men for a hot sec so I can write a nice Detroit: Become Human whump fic with our favorite android son, Connor. I’ve been super excited about my plot concept, so I’m ecstatic to start writing it. Anyways, I hope you like this one, I worked very hard on it, and I hope you’re all excited for the DBH fic coming soon!

-Ash

Word Count: 6299

Warning: Emeto and decently graphic descriptions of physical illness

Setting: Post-Apocalypse/Pre-Dark Phoenix

If there's anything Peter Maximoff knew in this moment, it was that not being able to do the one thing your body was genetically enhanced to do, sucked. A lot.

It had been only a few days since the X-Mansion had been rebuilt and things all fell back into this synonymous routine as if the entire building hadn't exploded a short while ago. In Peter's opinion, it was all kind of creepy how easy it seemed for these kids to all just go back to learning when their home and school just got eviscerated in a hellfire, but he didn't think much of it.

All he could think about in this moment, was how immensely bored he was. Peter always had something going on with him; he was either thinking about his impending dad-related issues, plotting a prank, or deciding to go off and steal an entire Walmart's worth of Twinkies in the blink of an eye, there was always something.

Yet now, the rest of the X-Men were off with Charles helping cover up heat from the international press by cleaning up all the damage and destruction in Cairo and showing what Charles had dubbed: "diplomacy", which was too huge of a word for Peter to ever use in an everyday sentence; too many letters, and Peter was left back at the mansion since he really couldn't use his powers effectively at the moment, so it would be pretty useless for him to be tagging along.

Peter normally wouldn't have given a damn, maybe even excited at the prospect of being able to rig his friends' rooms with elaborate traps with Jello and staplers or something of the sorts while they weren't around, yet now, when faced with inescapable boredom that followed him wherever his broken leg did (everywhere), he was dying to have anything to do. As the team was suiting up to get on the jet to go back to Cairo, Peter had pathetically hobbled down to the X-Men bunker on his crutches, begging to be taken with. But they'd simply gassed up the plane and flew off, leaving Peter alone, and oh so very bored.

Which brings us to Peter now, attempting to create an omelette with 6 different cheeses, 8 different and poorly-diced peppers, a heaping assortment of minced tomatoes, and a sprinkling of those off-brand fruit snacks that are always better than the on-brand ones for some reason. It wouldn't be a Peter breakfast without some form of sweet, and in his eyes, it stuck to the healthy-ish theme. It had fruit in the name for a reason, didn't it?

The kid always had a massive appetite, and everyone that knew Peter knew this as well. You'd be hard pressed to find him without some snack or form of sustenance in his hand, scarfing it down like there was no tomorrow. It was all a byproduct of his enhanced metabolism. All that energy to run had to come from somewhere, didn't it? Little did he know, this super stomach of his would come to kick him in the ass in a few short hours. But for now, the silver-haired man child of a mutant was limping around the mansion's kitchen making a very... exotic breakfast for dinner meal.

Peter plopped the strange looking (decently gooey) excuse for an omelette into a large plate with some Twinkies and orange juice on the side. As he devoured his dinner, Peter thought anxiously about Erik. It had taken him 10 years to connect the dots, work up the courage, and even think of confronting the man to tell him of his true parentage, yet wimped out at the last minute, leaving the ambiguous: "I'm here for my family too." Peter groaned audibly to himself as his mind once again replayed the events he'd already replayed a million times before. It was embarrassing as all hell. Luckily, nobody that did know told Erik anything, which Peter was very grateful for.

Imagine learning about a woman you left 2 and a half decades ago actually birthing a son you had no idea existed and just now learned of... but not from him, despite several encounters beforehand where he had ample opportunities to do so. It'd make Peter feel like even more of a loser than a 27 year old who still lived in his mother's basement. But, to be fair, Peter was no longer a grown man living with his mom, he was a grown man living in a school where he was many years past the oldest enrolled student, while not teaching a single class; it was a step up from the basement, trust me.

Once finished with his omelette, Peter quickly washed his dishes and made his trek up the small flight of stairs to reach his room on the second floor. Over the past few days, Peter had learned just how high a set of stairs could be, especially when you end up falling down them on several attempts to slide down the handrail (and failing miserably while being laughed at by dozens of impressionable pre-teen children.) What a loser.

After reaching his room, particularly winded from this dinner excursion, Peter was grateful to see that he hadn't unplugged his television from the wall after his embarrassing fall in an attempt to get to the bathroom by himself, without his crutches, or the lights on. A simple recipe for disaster in nearly all circumstances, yet for some reason, the universe held pity for Peter and his debilitated state, and decided to not make his day any worse than it already was.

Peter ultimately decided to entertain himself with a good night-long play session of Pac-Man on his Atari 2600, also still miraculously undamaged from last night's fall. He booted up the inferior version of the game (seriously though, he'd have to get Kurt to help him teleport his arcade cabinet from his basement to the school, playing this one was getting a bit tiring on the eyes.) It sufficed, he thought as the TV harshly flashed on.

Now normally, Peter would have been up all night with his video games and rock music blaring in the background, yet tonight, something (besides his immobile leg) felt really off. Each distinct 'WOMP' from the console as the yellow circle man consumed the dashes and dots felt like a sledgehammer into Peter's eardrums, leaving a resonating ache at the base of his skull. He didn't think much of it and brushed it off, simply turning down his music a notch and backing away from the TV a few inches.

The next confusing sign that something wasn't quite right was the disconcerting shivers wracking his body. A chilly breeze seemed to sweep the room as if the AC was on full blast with the windows open on a November midnight, yet it was July and all the windows were closed and when he went to check if his AC unit was acting up, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. That's whack, Peter thought to himself as he plopped onto his bed, Atari abandoned on the rugged floor.

He didn't know how long he spent staring at the unmoving chandelier hanging lamely from the ceiling, but it felt as if seconds later, the room was not only freezing, but spinning, and suffocating. Everything felt way too close. Peter could feel every fiber of his shirt rubbing against his jacket, the itchy inside of his cast pressing up against the entirety of his right leg, and the presence of his goggles resting on his neck, now seeming like a noose closing in on his throat. He hastily tore off the eyewear and tossed them on his nightstand before deciding to shed his jacket and weakly throwing it across the room. Another move he regretted.

Without the jacket to keep his arms warm, the newfound seemingly frosty atmosphere felt like a icy flurry against his skin. In spite of his mind's confused wishes, Peter ripped the heavy blanket off the end of the bed and closed it around himself like a caterpillar ready to emerge as a butterfly the next time it saw the daylight. Peter sure as hell didn't feel like a caterpillar, but if the feeling of metamorphosis was a growing sense of intense nausea and cramping in the stomach, then hell yeah, he was crushing this butterfly business.

Fuck, what's wrong with me?! He thought to himself as he rolled onto his side. Peter rubbed at his eyes, hoping to clear the dizziness, yet only further irritating them. God damnit, he sighed internally as his face scrunched up in discomfort, releasing one of his hand's hold on the blanket to cradle his aching stomach.

"Is this karma for all that shit I stole when I was younger? That's just mean, man," Peter rasped to nobody in particular. He thought about it more though and responded to his own question, "Then again, I think that's pretty fair. Haha...Shit, man. Never thought I'd say this, but I think... I think I need help."

The sledgehammer-like headache was pounding with every bass drum beat lightly emanating from the sound system Peter hadn't turned off, another move he regretted. He couldn't decide if the pros outweighed the cons: hobbling through the dark to possibly remedy a source of his suffering, but relinquishing his hold on the only thing keeping him from feeling like freezing. Peter played it safe, much to his cranium's dismay.

Peter stared off towards the wall at nothing in particular as he tried oh so hard to draw his mind's focus from how terrible he felt to literally anything else. It wasn't working out so well. And so, Peter laid there, blanket tossed over himself, single leg drawn up to his chest, shivering like a leaf in a rainstorm, as nauseous as a toddler who just rode their first roller coaster, feeling like he was about to cry, and alone. What a miserable way to spend the night.

------

If there's anything Erik Lehnsherr knew in this moment, it was that he was beyond irritated that Charles wasn't at the mansion to run his own school. Despite leaving the school once he'd helped rebuild it to try and seek solitude to wrap his mind around his place in the world and everything that'd happened to him, Erik was back at the mansion once again. He was ready to lay down the foundations for his new mutant hideaway, Genosha, and needed Charles's connections to the government to help smooth over his charges and get clearance to have his isolated society where he might truly find happiness and solace. The universe had spoken, and he obviously wasn't cut out to be a nuclear family kind of guy.

Unbeknownst to him, Erik had once again meandered into a setting with his unrealized son. Also unbeknownst to him, that son was currently cooped up alone in his room, feeling like death.

Erik uncomfortably paced around the mansion, checking Charles's office, the X-Men bunker, and all the other places he might have been, yet the telepath was nowhere to be found. Erik sighed, he knew coming this late was a bargain, one, it turns out, he'd come to lose. The school itself was eerily quiet. It was if the entire mansion was empty or something. Peaceful, yet unsettling for a man who knew nothing but chaos.

Erik was about to borrow a book someone had abandoned in the foyer when he heard the muffled melodies of American rock music echoing from the upstairs floor. It must be that problematic Peter child, Erik thought to himself. From what he told himself was a civil duty to the rest of the sleeping kids in the school (but was actually his own way to cope with his curiosity) Erik decided to check up on the snarky young man to ask if he'd turn down the tunes.

As he approached the door, Erik was bracing himself for something extremely untamed. Perhaps a messy, greasy slophole of a living area, or maybe a drunk and uncontrollably obnoxious man dancing to his music in the nude. You never really knew with Peter, and Erik had come to expect the strangest out of the boy from the few genuine interactions they've had.

Erik gently tapped his knuckles against the door, waiting patiently for a 'come in', or something along the lines of those words, yet it never came. Raising a questioning yet not too surprised eyebrow, Erik knocked again, using slightly harder bangs, not wishing to make a ruckus and wake anyone else in the hallway up. Again, nothing. Although it could have simply boiled down to Peter not hearing him from his loud and abhorrent music, Erik was growing slightly irritated with the lack of a response. So with his last reserves of patience, he knocked one final time, once again listening for a signal or cue to enter. He was met with nothing yet again.

Wondering for the worst and fully expecting to meet a blackout drunk Peter when he opened the door, Erik tentatively jiggled the doorknob, which just so happened to be unlocked, and stepped inside. Thankfully, he was not met with a naked dancing or woefully drunk mutant speedster, but most would probably argue that what he was met with was quite worse. And that being a rancid stench of sick and sour nastiness lingering in the air, a poorly plopped pile of blankets draped over the culprit of the odor, and the culprit himself lying pale and flushed on the floor beside his bed, covered in his own vomit.

Erik's nose crinkled up from being met by the strongly nauseating smell of the room, reaching for the light switch on the wall to aid the sad little table lamp and glow of the TV in illuminating the room. Now he truly saw the pity-worthy situation for what it was. Peter laid in a heap on the ground next to his bed; he'd clearly trying to make it to the en suite bathroom just a few feet away. However, with his dizzy mind and immobile leg, he didn't make it very far and ended up expelling his dinner in a much less... dignified location (if you could consider a toilet bowl a very dignified location), that undignified location being all over his lap and onto his faded Pink Floyd t-shirt.

Not knowing how to really handle the situation, Erik called out a soft, "Peter?" hoping to elicit a response. Yet, just like at the door, he was met with nothing. As he approached the boy, thoughts of anxiety and panic circled through his mind. What would he say to him when he woke up? Would he be uncomfortable with Erik of all people coming to help? Would he be confused? Would he not care? He felt undeniably and inexplicably awkward. Erik shook the thoughts from his conscious as he knelt down to try and meet Peter's face.

"Peter?" he asked again. Erik tentatively reached over to tap the boy's face, which was contorted in a pinched expression of discomfort, marred further by the vomit drying in a trail down his chin.

Once Erik's hand made contact with Peter's cheek, he wanted to retract it. From the split second interaction, Erik had felt the clammy, sweaty, and scorching hot skin and was growing concerned. The slight physical prodding finally made Peter respond.

"Mom?" he asked groggily, voice cracking, "I'll put my dishes in the sink in a minute... I'm tired..."

Erik let out a harsh sigh, bending his neck in an attempt to make eye contact with the boy.

"Peter, I'm not you-" Erik was cut off.

"Yeah yeah... I'm not your maid. I know, Ma. Just... give me five."

"Peter." Erik stated bluntly yet with a hint of unease, unsure if Peter was delirious or just messing with him, "look at me, please."

Peter cracked open his eyes and blearily met Erik's stoic and collected face. He blinked a few times, slowly and deliberately, calculating who was kneeling in front of him, before letting out a weak and wheezy chuckle, "hey there, refrigerator ornament. Wassup?"

Erik rolled his eyes, responding with, "I came to ask you to turn down your atrocious music so you won't wake any of the other children who are trying to sleep. When I came in here, you were passed out on the floor. Would you like to explain to me what happened?"

"Nah... it isn't all too interesting"

"Peter, can you please act like an adult for 2 minutes? Please?"

"Oh man, the Nazi-hunting, president-killing, horseman of the Apocalypse is bustin' out the PLEASES. Look out, world, Lord of the Vacation Souvenirs has a new tactic... MANNERS!"

Peter burst out laughing at his own adolescent joke, ending in a wheezy struggle to catch his own breath. Erik couldn't tell if he was just screwing with him or genuinely needed help. This behavior seemed pretty normal for the immature mutant.

"Look, Peter, I really just need to know if you're okay. Can you answer that simple question, please?"

"Man, your tactics are workin' like a charm. I guess I'll tel-" Peter was cut off by a repulsing gag, hunching over and expelling his stomach's contents... again, this time, however, onto Erik's shirt, quickly travelling in a sad trail down onto his freshly-ironed pants. Peter's bloodshot eyes went side with embarrassment as he quickly transitioned his gaze to the floor.

Erik's face was caught frozen still as his mind caught up with what had just happened. As repulsed as he was, it wasn't like he hadn't seen worse. But that still didn't make the fact that he was just puked on any less disgusting. After audibly exhaling through his nose, Erik once again focused on the miserable man child in front of him, who was now anxiously tapping his fingernails on the hard plaster of his cast, deliberately trying to avoid eye contact.

God damnit, Peter, He thought to himself as he continued tapping, it's bad enough leaving him with a painfully ambiguous response during a battle to save all of humanity, ultimately ruining a perfectly good chance to fess up, but now look what you've done. You fucking threw up on him. Peter felt himself growing smaller as his subconscious shamed him for his uncontrollable bout of illness. It was stupid and ultimately all in his head, but it didn't make him feel any less shit about his situation.

After taking the few quiet seconds, Erik stood up, and whether it was out of pity or some subconscious moral quest, grabbed Peter by the armpits and dragged him to the bathroom.

"W-what the?" Peter asked, confused by the harsh white light of the bathroom and the sudden shift in scenery.

"Well I'm not going to let you sit in your own disgusting clothes. I have standards, you know. Can you undress yourself? I'll get us both some clean clothes."

Peter grunted in response. It meant: yeah, I think I can take off my own clothes, bro... once the room stops spinning. Erik, however, had already up and left, stripping off his own soiled shirt and rifling through Peter's dresser drawers, and taking the opportunity to flick off the television and silence the music that had been awkwardly filling the room's background space up until now.

Peter didn't have much variety in his clothing, dark jeans and band logo t-shirts were most of his dresser's arsenal. Not wishing to be clad in a Metallica shirt for the rest of the night, he dug a bit further into the seemingly endless assortment of shirts till he found a plain white short sleeve, sighing in relief. He grabbed a random shirt from the top of the assortment which just so happened to have the Journey logo on it, and set off to find new pants for the boy.

Back in the bathroom, Peter was still laying slumped against the bathtub, shivering. Everything around him had seemingly slowed to a halt, not unlike when he was running past the speed of sound, but this time deceleration just felt... wrong.

The crashing rhythm of the rock music had come to a halt, yet it didn't cease the incessant throbbing ache in his head, as if the bass riffs and the harsh taps of the snare were on a permanent loop with earbuds permanently glued to his ears. He was trying his best to prevent himself from groaning or whining as to not sound like even more of a child in front of Erik, but honestly, he didn't want his nonexistent father right now, he wanted his mom.

Peter was snapped from his self loathing by Erik's footfalls growing progressively louder as he approached him. Erik had thrown on a pair of track pants and a random white shirt. He was holding a pair of sweatpants and another shirt for Peter so he could be free of his sweat-slick and vomit-covered clothes.

"Hey, you don't get to keep those. I like those pants," Peter stated sarcastically, still trying to put up a front, although he was unsure why. He'd needed help, it was painfully obvious, so why was he still pushing his father away? Resentment? Anger? Pride? No... fear.

"Arms up," Erik instructed, preparing to take Peter's shirt off for him.

"Yo, you know I'm not a toddler, right? I can take off my own god damn shirt."

"You sure don't act like you're a day older than one, and I don't wanna risk you accidentally suffocating getting stuck in your own clothing so... arms up."

Peter sighed and did as he was told. Erik swiftly peeled the top off the boy and felt around his back, finding it clammy and warm. As if he'd just went from the tropics to Antarctica, the shirt leaving his skin exposed his skin to a whole new level of cold. The sensation ripped through his spine as his teeth started chattering. Hoping Erik had a brain underneath that skull, Peter was (im)patiently waiting for the man to save him from the frosty winds of his newly installed Arctic bathroom and slip the new shirt over him already. However, much to Peter's dismay, Erik turned on the tub's faucet, soaking a hand towel in cold water before leaning over and placing it on Peter's exposed back.

The second the frigid cloth made contact with his skin, Peter recoiled, back arching backwards, arms frantically bending to try and remove it. Erik sighed, slightly out of pity, and continued holding it down.

"Is this some cruel punishment? What did I do?" Peter pleaded, hoping to distract himself from crying by use of humor.

"You're scorching and sticky and it's just disgusting. I'm cooling you down, so relax," Erik explained. "It'll be a few more seconds, I just needed to get all the sweat off of you."

And as quickly as it had begun, the endeavor was over and Erik was threading Peter's strikingly pale and flimsy arms through the shirt holes. Peter audibly sighed, feeling like he'd just spent an hour in an industrial freezer and was now back into a normal temperature.

Erik's eyes drifted to Peter's legs, immediately noticing a flaw in his plan. How was he going to change Peter's pants with that full leg cast?

"Peter, how do you typically change your pants considering your current... situation?" Erik asked.

"It's pretty simple. I don't," Peter replied bluntly.

"W-what?"

"Well, after I got my leg set a few days ago, I changed into jeans, not wanting to be in flight suit pants for the next week of my life, and I haven't swapped since. It's like, physically impossible."

"So... you've been wearing the same (disgustingly dirty) pants all week?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Hank says I should be grateful that it'll heal in a couple days, most people you'd find passed out on their floor covered in vomit with a full leg cast would have been wearing their nasty pants for weeks."

Erik sighed, tossing Peter's soiled shirt and the sweatpants back into the bedroom before meeting his gaze.

"Alright, Peter, I'm going to set you up in bed now."

"Sounds grea-" Peter was once again, clamping his hand over his mouth, pathetically dragging himself over to the toilet to prevent throwing up all over himself again.

Erik saw his distress and lifted the toilet lid and seat, prompting Peter to start heaving into the sad and dreary porcelain bowl. Each dry or productive heave sent another pulsing wave of pain and violent nausea from his stomach to seemingly every conceivable inch of his body in a viscous cycle of suffering. Erik could do nothing but watch as the silver-haired boy wretched in agony, each heave causing his breath to hitch, caught in his throat, as another bout of sick rushed up past his lips, crashing into the toilet bowl.

Erik wanted to reach over and rub Peter's back or offer a semblance of physical comfort for the anguish he must have been feeling. He'd often do this for his daughter, Nina, whenever she had a stomach bug. Erik reached out his hand, only to quickly retract it, shaking haunting thoughts from his mind. This boy was not his child, and in no way would he ever come close to being Nina. What was he thinking?

Guilt quickly overtook the memories as Peter finished his session of sickness. He sagged limply against the side of the toilet, face still partially hidden by the rim of the bowl. When he looked up at Erik, he looked awful. Beyond awful.

Red-rimmed eyes, clearly there as Peter attempted to stop the obvious tears from spilling over, met cool yet collected ones, the former's being full of pain, not just from this embarrassment or the physical turmoil he'd just endured, but something else. Erik knew those eyes. He knew them because for so long, they were the ones he'd stared at in the mirror, day after day, for years, until he'd found Charles, only to come face to face again with those demonized eyes in the form of an immature mutant puking his guts out on his bathroom floor. They were the eyes of a young man who was lost, feeling alone, hiding a part of themselves they wanted to let go, to set free, so they could truly be happy, yet he couldn't possibly decipher what could be internally destroying the boy.

"I-I'm sorry you had to watch that..." Peter said softly as his head lolled over.

"It's fine," Erik replied with a tone to match that of Peter's.

"I'm pretty sure... that I'm done. For now?" It came out as more of a question, but at this point, Peter wasn't trusting any signal his body was sending him. Every impulse had been smudged and cloudy in his mind, and paired with the seemingly endless headache and the relentless chills racking his body from the fever, Peter was sure that if his mind were a computer hard drive, it would have self destructed out of a deadly virus slowly hacking into the hardware.

But alas, Peter was no computer, and so he was stuck with this mystery illness, cooped up in his room, unable to run, with Erik mother-hecking Lehnsherr. His fever-addled mind was barely functioning at this point, so he didn't register anything but dizzying blurred images swirling around his head and slightly-grumbled voice swimming in his ears as Erik scooped the kid up like a newlywed bride and carried him off to bed.

Peter had never been more grateful to grace the comfort of his duvet, ready to sleep. He halfheartedly grabbed at it in an attempt to cover himself and finally warm up. Erik sighed with pity, grabbing it for him and draping it over his shoulders before moving over to stand by the nightstand and awkwardly watching Peter try and get comfortable.

Despite the obvious fact that his body wanted him to sleep, Peter's mind was racing everywhere except the realm of unconsciousness. Every thought was emphasized ten-fold as it bounced around his head until the only things remaining were his want, heck, his need, to tell Erik the truth, and the hesitant and unsure anxiety lingering in the background of his subconscious that was stopping him from doing just that.

Fevers, though, as Peter was quickly learning, tended to do weird shit to what your brain was really trying to accomplish, often scrambling any message you tried to expel to the point where it may or may not have even been your true intentions. And hell, it was an even bigger gamble if you'd remember any of the dumb shit you'd done or said. It was as if the heat had boiled all the potentially embarrassing memories away, which was at least kinda nice.

With everything happening, Peter thought it best for Erik to just pack up and scoot from the premises, as not to accidentally say or do something stupid that might come back to bite him in the ass later, but Peter wasn't about to pull an asshole move on the man who'd just helped him despite not being obligated to at all.

So, instead of verbally asking, Peter did the next most "mature" thing he could have in his debilitated and helpless situation. He pretended to be asleep in a pathetic hope that Erik would leave on his own. He didn't. Peter ended up looking like he was trying way too hard to be asleep than any real asleep person, and after a few minutes, Erik caught on.

"Peter, I know you're not actually sleeping," Erik said, not putting on any sort of specific emotion.

Peter cracked one red and tired eye open, meeting Erik's gaze yet again. Peter sighed and turned over onto his side, back to the other man, bleary eyes trying to focus on anything that wasn't Erik. Sleep, a seemingly effortless task for most, eluded Peter as he let out an a low whine. This was miserable.

"Hey, Erik?"

"Yes?"

"I umm... never mind..."

"What were you going to say?"

"It's nothing... I just feel stupid since I can't even do the easiest thing on the planet."

"Is there anything I can do?"

The question struck Peter like a cold dagger to the heart, it sounded so much like something his mom would say, who was practically the only person he wanted in that moment. Peter didn't like to be weak or expose any of his fears. He preferred to be distant and reserved, to hide all that insecurity with stupid dry humor and sarcasm. His mom and his sisters were really the only ones who he'd truly been open with, and when faced with these new circumstances, finally able to reconnect with the father he never had, he was frozen in place, and after pushing people away and closing himself off for so long, not knowing what to do to reach out and truly face what he needed to.

Completely internally and externally overwhelmed, Peter let his dam of pride burst, letting his emotional flood pour out of his eyes in the form of earnest, choked sobs. He bit his lip and weakly rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to hide his distress.

Erik was taken aback, taking a step towards him, before backpedaling as fast as the initial paternal instinct had seized him. He didn't know what to do. Erik was conflicted, scared of overstepping boundaries, but wholeheartedly wanting to comfort the clearly suffering boy lying in bed in front of him.

And in a flash of instinct, an unspoken, deep-rooted, yet unknown draw towards the silver-haired boy, Erik sat down on the mattress, back meeting Peter's, and leaning over his shoulder to rub his back

Erik's hand was shaky, unsure if it should truly be there. He felt the heat radiating off Peter's skin through his t-shirt. Erik glanced down further to Peter's face, and despite the hands trying (and failing) to cover his eyes, saw it covered in a new sheen of sweat quickly mixing with his tears, pale and pasty with angry crimson patches sitting pretty as pictures on his cheeks and forehead. Everything in that moment accentuated both how awfully awkward Erik and truly terrible Peter felt.

Erik didn't even know if Peter was lucid anymore. He was breaking down into tears, shivering and being comforted by someone who was practically a stranger. Eventually, the sobs dwindled into whimpers and Erik's nerves were starting to taper off himself. The room fell into a weirdly calm silence as the two decided to not say anything. Until Peter's shaky voice cut through the room.

"Y-you know... when I was a dumb little kid, I thought I-I could outrun germs. Look at me now. I can't even cook a f-freakin' omelette without making myself sick... I never needed to cook for myself, it was always my mom, or Hostess cakes."

"..." Erik wanted to say something, anything, but he was unsure what, or if Peter would understand.

"I can't do anything right... life tosses me chances and I just fuck em' all up."

Erik soon realized Peter was no longer talking about his omelette, but something deeper.

"I just wish... you could've d-done this for me when I was still that dumb little kid. I wish for so much to be different. I'd always wanted a d-dad, and when I finally figured out who he was, I learn he'd gone off to kill the president! I-I don't know..."

"W-what?"

"I m-might not be able to outrun germs, but my entire l-life, I've outrun everything. The law, my responsibilities, adulthood... But now, the one time when I finally can't run from anything, out of all of my problems, I gotta face you of all things. N-not the way I thought this would happen..." Peter's words died out as he fell silent.

Erik wasn't sure he'd heard Peter properly. Until something in his mind clicked. Everything he's done up until now: "my mom once knew a guy who could do that..." and "I'm here for my family too..." Oh my god, he thought, I'm... I-I'm Peter's... father? Who else had he been with before his wife... Magda. Oh god.

Erik pulled his hand away from Peter's back. This caused Peter to moan and flip onto his back, staring directly at Erik, eyes cutting straight to his heart like knives.

"W-why'd you stop? It was nice..." Peter admitted shyly.

"I-I need a second, Peter. I'm sorry," Erik sighed as he pushed himself off the mattress.

Peter said nothing as his eyes drifted back to his bedspread. Disappointment lurking behind his bloodshot irises.

Erik walked off to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He stared up at himself in the mirror, hands gripped tightly around the basin. This couldn't be happening. Not after Nina, not again. Erik was just... terrified. Terrified of the idea of getting close again. Anyone who's ever been a part of Erik's family... had died. His parents, his wife, his daughter; he didn't want Peter to join the list of people the universe was just deemed to kill. He knew that Peter was far from dying, it was a simple fact that the kid couldn't cook and he'd fed himself something underdone. Yet, it was all happening, it was all too fast, and everything felt so damn scary.

He knew, deep down, that this was the truth. It only made sense that the Magda didn't wanna tell her son that his dad was an internationally targeted terrorist that's murdered dozens of people, and this kid had no reasons to lie about it. God... Erik didn't know how to feel, what he should do, but he did know that had a need to comfort Peter, who'd just confessed a secret he'd been hiding for who knows how long, and was now laying alone, probably feeling abandoned again, after pouring his heart out knowing full well it might be shot down.

Whether it was all intentional was yet to be seen. Again, fevers did weird shit.

Erik let out a low sigh and opened the door, finding Peter curled up on himself as best he could, softly whining, mumbling incoherently to himself. Erik stepped over and sat down on the bed again, the entire mattress dipping from his weight.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I am very happy you told me..." Erik was searching for the right words, "the truth."

" 'r welc'm" Peter mumbled as his puffy eyelids slid over his tired brown eyes.

"Is there anything you need me to do for you right now?"

"J'st... stay please. I-It's embarassin', I know, but I just... my mom used to do it..."

"Alright, Peter. I'm not gonna leave, so just try to sleep, okay?"

Peter didn't need to be told twice as his mind and body worked in harmony, finally allowing Peter to be lulled off to the realm of unconsciousness. And although he knew it wasn't necessary, Erik wished to add to the intimacy of this quiet moment, a type of moment so rare and inconstant in both of their lives, so he pushed himself up against the headboard, laying out flat on the bed, and carded his fingers into Peter's silky silver locks. And out of habit, maybe a sort of tendency he'd developed from doing it with Nina, or an obligation to share what he felt Peter deserved, he began to hum his family lullaby, ever so slowly and softly, drowning out any other thing the world wanted to toss at them. Because in that moment... Erik and Peter had found something they'd both been missing for so long, peacefulness and contentment. And for that short night, it was all they needed.

[celestriakle]

I keep getting people who ask me what podcasts I listen to, what they’re about, and which I recommend, SO. Please note: these are solely my opinions, and your taste may differ from mine.

If you ever want more recommendations, check out Radio Drama Revival, which features all sorts of shows, singular and serial, and interviews with their writers and creators.

(This list is regularly updated. Last update 10/31/21.)

Top 3:

Archive 81: Dan is hired to organize some tapes about a very strange apartment building. Really ramps up in season 2. Horror. Good characters, interesting worldbuilding, intriguing plot, good voice acting, the best sound design of everything I’ve listened to so far. The whole package, really. (Ongoing.)

The Magnus Archives: An archivist for an institute of paranormal research reads aloud witness testimonials that turn out to be connected. The most tightly written podcast yet, perfectly paced, amazing use of framing device, fascinating world-building, wonderful slow-burn character development. Pay attention to the details in this one. (Completed.)

The Penumbra Podcast: There are a handful of stand-alone stories, but the two primary ones are a medieval-adjacent fantasy featuring knights facing monsters and a scifi detective noir story. Good breadth, and all the stories are fun and interesting, the characters endearing. Really excellent dialogue and genre play. (Ongoing.)

Great:

Alice Isn’t Dead: An anxious trucker is looking for her missing wife. Done by the Nightvale people but nothing like it. American Gothic variety horror. Lovely descriptions, a good protagonist, an interesting world, well-paced. (Completed.)

The Bunker: A black comedy about three guys who survived the apocalypse broadcasting a radio show to the wasteland. The episodes are long, but clearly and easily segmented for easy listening. Does an excellent job building up the world and characters and maintaining its bleak humor throughout, while going in depth on its themes and the chosen topics of each episode. (Completed.)

The Bright Sessions: People with powers in therapy to learn to cope with them. Contrary to what one might expect, this isn’t about superheroes, but the way it handles healing and growth and relationships are fantastic. A satisfying ending. Very character-driven. Sequel series are now available on the feed as well. (Completed.)

Caravan: Two best friends are on a camping trip together, when one falls into a midwestern fantasy world. So much fun, the characters are full of charm and heart, and the voice actors portray them well. Another heartwarming whisperforge work, funny too. Mildly NSFW. (Ongoing.)

The Deep Vault: In the near future, a small group escape the apocalypse by taking shelter in a legendary abandoned bunker, but they’re not alone. A 7-ep miniseries made by the same people who did Archive 81, and they’re able to develop their cast and the relationships in it quite effectively in the short span given. A fast paced adventure great for a long drive or quiet afternoon. (Completed.)

The Far Meridian: An agoraphobic young woman wakes up to discover her lighthouse is teleporting around. Gentle surrealism with a focus on story. Even the one-off characters are charming, and there are well-written latino characters everywhere. (Ongoing.)

Girl in Space: Just a girl, in space, taking care of a star with only a glitchy AI for company (for now). The girl’s very charming, and the AI is one of my favorites I’ve seen written. (Ongoing.)

Gone: A woman wakes up one day to discover she's the last person in the world. No apocalypse, everyone's just... gone. Very, very strong voice in the protagonist; she's rough and fascinating. Incorporates a mental health angle often neglected in these types of stories. Another season was promised, as season 1 ends on a cliffhanger, but it hasn’t yet materialized. (Abandoned.)

Greater Boston: In an alternate Boston, the Red Line railway becomes it's own city, and the ramifications of that. A story about community, with the focus on a group of people dealing with the aftermath of a single man's death. Both deeply emotional and very, very funny. There are cheese robots, Atlantis, and guinea pigs. A delightful and very well woven wild ride. (Ongoing.)

Kalila Stormfire’s Economical Magick Services: A pleasant slice-of-life record of a young witch’s attempt to start a business. It takes a little to get going; I didn’t get much invested until episode seven, but ever since then, it’s continually ramped up. The final season especially is a delight. The crossover specials are very fun. (Ongoing.)

Liberty: In a distant Earth colony colony, there is the city of Atrius ruled by the dictatorial Arkon, and outside are the cannibalistic Fringers. Three stories in one. Critical Research, the first and roughest, follows a crew of Atrians going out and studying the Fringers. Tales of the Tower are is an anthology of horror stories aired by the Atrian government. Vigilance is an Actual Play story where the players are Atrians trying to track down three missing persons for community service, and get stuck in a deeper conspiracy. All of them are excellent, amazing soundscaping, good VAs, and intense writing. Vigilance and Critical Research are over, but Tales from the Tower is still ongoing. (Ongoing, but has several completed stories.)

The London Necropolis Railway: A short listen about a railroad that ferries the souls of the dead. A ghost dodged their train and one of the ticketers needs to chase her down. Short episodes, exciting, funny and fun. (Ongoing.)

A Scottish Podcast: A self-absorbed asshole tries to get rich by starting his own supernatural podcast. A parody of The Black Tapes and its ilk. Hilarious and a solid plot. (Ongoing.)

Startripper!!: An alien office worker buys his dream car and quits his job to go have adventures and live his best life. Genuinely the happiest, most feel good podcast I’ve heard. An absolute pleasure. (Ongoing.)

Uncanny County: An anthology series about strange events happening in a backwater town. Mostly has a goofy, off-beat tone, so it’s all good fun. Stories range from a couple that moves into a a house with a bathtub that reduces aging to a couple trying to get over the husband’s fear of clowns by staying a clown hotel. The stories are connected by place, but there’s no overarching plot; it’s just good fun. (Anthology.)

Welcome to Nightvale: The community radio show for the small desert town of Nightvale, where every conspiracy theory is true. You probably know this. WTNV is credited with kickstarting the new age of audio dramas for good reason: it's weird and wonderful with expansive storylines and amazing characters. I first discovered it back in 2015, but dropped it and didn't revisit it until now, five years later. Even with every other show I've heard, even with its own massive backlog, it still holds up with the best of them, still evoking new emotions and unveiling new secrets. WTNV is still very much an amazing podcast worth listening to. (Ongoing.)

The White Vault: An international repair team goes up to a base in Svalbard and becomes trapped by a storm after making an amazing discovery. Arctic horror. Novel framing, excellent suspense, good sound design and voice acting, a well done show. Uses actually international VAs. (Ongoing.)

Within the Wires: Tales from another world told first through relaxation tapes, then museum guides, then a government official’s notes to his secretary. The delicate unveiling of the world, and the complex relationships depicted through these restricted forms is absolutely masterful, allowing a deep understanding in spite of hearing only one voice. It starts off very strange and surreal, but it’s worth listening through that initial bump to get to the meat. (Ongoing.)

Wolf-359: The crew of a deep-space outpost begins receiving a series of strange transmissions. A sci-fi classic in the podcast community for good reason: beautifully plotted, excellent emotional arcs, a cast of characters I loved in their entirety. (Completed.)

Wooden Overcoats: A comedy about two competing funeral homes in a tiny village. Absolutely hilarious. Each character has their trope, but they are never bound by it and all are allowed to grow and develop beyond it. (Ongoing.)

Good:

2298: In a dystopian future where human lives are guided and curated by the Network, resident 24 is haunted by a beautiful golden bird. A modern take on a Big Brother-style dystopia. Quite short, but fun. Connected to the canon of Girl in Space. (Completed.)

36 Questions: An estranged married couple attempts to reconnect by asking each other 36 questions that are supposed to help people fall in love. A musical, only 3 episodes long. Very good, excellent sound design, and this podcast would easily be in the great category if it weren’t for the ending, which I found unsatisfying. (Completed.)

Ars Paradoxica: A scientist accidentally sends herself back to the ‘40s and gets picked up by a military organization and tries to use their resources to get herself back to the present. One of the earlier audio dramas, so it’s a little tropey, but it existed before many of those tropes were established. I’m still listening through! (Completed.)

Beef and Dairy Network: A comedy podcast that made me laugh! The news from a fictitious network, like if Nightvale was about beef and dairy exclusively. Enough plot and fun to keep it fresh, that it really only wears down after 40 or so episodes. (Ongoing.)

The Bridge: The caretakers of Watchtower 10 on the largely abandoned Transatlantic Bridge are all there for a reason. There are frightening things in the water, and a wealth of stories. A little spooky, but not really horror. Big lovable cast, a good format, and several interesting plot threads to put together and follow. (Ongoing.)

Gal Pals Present Overkill: A ghost tries to figure out how she died and navigate the afterlife in a very haunted park. Sweet, does very interesting things with ghosts as a concept. All girls, everyone’s gay, that latina representation I always crave. (Ongoing.)

Kane and Feels: A pair of PIs (Paranormal Investigators) investigate a trail of subconscious strangeness. A very beautiful and surreal story that blurs the world of reality and dreams. Lovely prose and aesthetic. Episodes release extremely sporadically with no clear season breaks. (Ongoing?)

King Falls AM: Two guys host a radio show in a little town full of strange happenings. A similar premise to WTNV executed quite differently. Charming but underwhelming for the first 50-ish episodes, then ramps up sharply and becomes very intense and very good. (Ongoing.)

Lesser Gods: In a post-apocalyptic future after which humans lost the ability to reproduce, the final five youngest on earth attempt to cope with and solve a murder after one of their ranks dies. Like a YA novel in the best way. Very flawed and complex characters. Episodes stopped coming midseason. (Abandoned.)

L I M B O: A dead man meets people from his past. Manages to bring to life several interesting characters in a very short time, though it leaves questions. Connected to the canon of 2298. (Completed.)

Mabel: Live-in caretaker for an elderly woman won’t stop leaving voicemails for the woman’s estranged granddaughter and discovers many strange things in the strange house. Very narrowly got edged out of my top three, but still very good. Gothic horror. Great use of format, well-paced, mellifluous writing and good music that makes it a pleasure to listen to in sound alone. (Ongoing.)  

Middle:Below: A man with the ability to travel to the spirit world helps ghosts move on. Very cute and quirky and sweet. The cast’s charming, and the ghosts they deal with are interesting, and there’s still quite a number of mysteries about the world. (Ongoing.)

Outliers: An anthology collection rather than a narrative, each story tells the tale of a lesser known British historical figure. Well-written, well-acted--mostly--with a bonus of some learning on the side. (Completed.)

Passage: Two skeletons on a lifeboat from a ship that supposedly vanished a century ago washes up on the shore of a small town. A mystery miniseries, only 7 episodes long. Half the reason I listened to this is because it takes place in the PNW. A good mystery, an enjoyable quick listen. (Completed.)

Pleasuretown: A western about a small desert town that got wiped out, and the stories of all the inhabitants who used to live there and the strange supernatural encounters they had. It weaves together beautifully with top notch sounds. Starts out very white/male/cishet, but the stories get more diverse and inclusive as the podcast goes on. It’s episodic enough that the stories are enjoyable on their own, but the large overarching story thread never got resolved. (Abandoned.)

Radiation World: A boat full of strangers on a quest discovers a bunker full of people who survived the apocalypse and they help each other out. Shenanigans ensure. Incredibly fun and funny with a great plot and series of twists. The ending implied another season was planned, but there are no major questions left, so it stand on its own. (Completed?)

Station to Station: A researcher is looking into the circumstances of the disappearance of a beloved coworker no one seems to remember. Sporadic update schedule has made this one a bit hard to keep track of. (Ongoing.)

Alright:

Bubble: A hipster human colony that lives in a bubble on a foreign planet occasionally deals with monster attacks. A comedy that knows its type very well: I have an intimate understanding of the people it’s poking fun at, and that made it at once incredibly fun and also hard to listen to. It implied there would be a second season, but one hasn’t yet happened. The first season stands alone well, however. (Completed?)

Big Data: Seven thieves steal the seven keys to the internet to try to take it down. Each individual heist is really interesting and fun with a great thief, but the frame narrative left me wanting. The ending implied there was going to be a sequel series, but one never materialized. (Completed?)

Congeria: A detective searching for a missing girl gets caught up with cults and murderers. A well produced podcast, well acted and well plotted, this is perfect if you love hardboiled detective stories. Honestly, this is only in alright because it’s not my usual genre. It was just a heavy listen. (Completed.)

The Dark Tome: A dark fantasy podcast where a troubled young teen reads a magic, potentially evil book that sucks her into another world and allows her to witness stories. Very much has the feel of a YA novel. Each stories within the frame are written by different authors, so episode quality varies. (Ongoing.)

Deadly Manners: A classic murder mystery at a grand house party. It was enjoyable, the characters reasonably fun (with one massive racist/homophobic/antisemitic exception), but the whole thing still felt very run-of-the-mill nevertheless. (Completed.) 

Dreamboy: A depressed musician gets caught up in a conspiracy surrounding a dream and a killer zebra. Honestly, that synopsis isn’t even the half of it. This podcast is incredibly strange (and explicitly NSFW) but quite fascinating. Also, it has fabulous musical numbers. (Completed.)

Empty: Several humans and an AI wake up on a colony spaceship alone, with no memory. Interesting characters, a new favorite AI, but their season finale was more of a cliffhanger than a finale that wrapped up anything. (Abandoned.)

Hadron Gospel Hour: A comedy podcast about a scientist who broke the universe, his everyman sidekick, and the supercomputer helping them fix it. It’s episodic, and there are standalone shorts in it that are funny. Some jokes haven’t aged well, to put it kindly. At least one episode contains a racist joke. The seasons posted are complete, but the overarching plot never finished resolving. (Abandoned.)

The Infinite: The last surviving member of a deep space exploration mission receives a mysterious signal and contemplates if it’s worth chasing. It preceded many of the more popularized space operas and says many of the same things as them. (Completed.)

Janus Descending: A research team of two get killed while on an expedition to an alien planet. Told nonlinearly. There’s so much here that’s good, but the main characters are afflicted with a whole lot of stupid that diminishes the effect. (Completed.) 

Joseph: The Revenge of Opus: A far future scifi story where some dude saves the world and the girl. I'm writing this about nine months after first listening, and honestly that's about all I retained. I remember it being fun, and having very excellent sound design, but the story was very predictable and thus forgettable. (Completed.)

LifeAfter/The Message: A pair of discrete podcasts on the same feed. The Message is about a team of scientists trying to decipher a sound that triggered a pandemic, and LifeAfter is about an FBI agent offered a chance to reconnect with his dead wife through an AI. They were both interesting, though The Message hit uncomfortably close to home, since this is being written in Nov 2020. LifeAfter had a stronger plot regardless, though the likability of its protagonist is questionable. (Completed.)

Magic King Dom: One of the few survivors of an apocalypse grows up alone in Disneyland. Cute and well produced, but the pacing is very fast, and Dom’s characterization stretched my suspension of disbelief. Connected to the canon of Girl In Space. (Completed.)

Misadventure by Death: A trope-aware person is hired to take care of an almost certainly haunted house. The writing feels a little amateur at points, but it’s enjoyable and had decent pacing so far.  Updates stopped coming midseason. (Abandoned.)

Tides: A xenobiologist who has been stranded on an alien planet that’s regularly soaked by a large tidal wave. It’s acted well enough, the sound is good, and the premise is good along with the dialogue, but a bit too much time is spent on the visual descriptions of alien creatures and the pacing of the main plot has yet to catch up. (Ongoing.)

What’s the Frequency: Something strange is happening with the radio, and two detectives are on the case. Anyone who knows me knows I’m not a fan of avante guarde storytelling methods, and unfortunately, this podcast makes plentiful use of them. It took several episodes for me to grasp a basic idea of which characters were which and what the basic plot was, due to nonlinear narrative, unclear characterization, and similar sounding VAs. In spite of this, the charm of the characters I did grasp and the bits of plot I put together kept me interested and listening. (Ongoing.)

Not Recommended:

The Angel of Vine: A hardboiled PI attempts to solve a grisly murder. A very generic example of its genre, it doesn’t bring anything new or interesting to the table. Just boring.

The Black Tapes: Reporter looks into the unsolved cases of someone who disproves the paranormal for a living. Season one was fantastic, but they start to lose it in season two; the pacing and focus go astray. Season three is worse, and then the finale they put out was one of the most disappointing endings I’ve endured in years. It was bad enough I don’t intend on looking into their other productions, Rabbits and Tanis.

The Blood Crow Stories: S1 is about a malicious entity that haunts a ship, but each season is different. I listened only to s1. If you like villains who get away with all their plans perfectly and face no challenge from the protags whatsoever, then this podcast is for you. The villain is also incredibly overwrought to near laughability and relies on gore and shock value for its fearsomeness. The rest of the cast is alright, but nothing special. Uncomfortable interactions with the creators sealed my decision to not proceed with the other seasons.

Everlasting Beholders: Some aliens attempt to influence an alternate Earth. The changes made are uncomfortable, and it’s a bit hard to follow. Supposedly it connects to Empty, but not in a way I could figure out. It was never finished.

Organism: An alien of some sort learns about the world. Slow, simplistic, boring, with a very strange twist ending.

Ruby and the Galactic Gumshoe (2020): A scifi noir that's a new adventure in a series started in the 80s. Honestly, I loved the narrator and the soundscaping; the feel of this show was amazing. However, I don't recommend it solely because one of the characters is a deeply racist caricature. Ruby has a hi-tech car with an inbuilt AI described as a "big black genie", and whenever he speaks, it's with a thick Indian accent and "mystical" language.

Spines: Amnesiac survivor of a cult ritual tries to find out what happened and where her missing soul mate went by interrogating people with weird powers. Horror. The world is cool, the imagery is very cool, the story is reasonably interesting, but the voice acting is bad. Both voices we hear deliver all their lines, even ones that sound as if they should be deeply emotional, in the same flat, disinterested, apathetic, tired monotone. Not only that, but the pacing and narration destroy any sense of suspense this epic story should have.

Subject: Found: S1 was about a bigfoot hunter, and s2 was about a murderer who loved to kill women. The second story is very much not my thing--especially in light of how s1 treated its main female character--so I only listened to s1. As mentioned, the main female character, the protagonist’s wife, gets her needs constantly deferred or invalidated in favor of her husband’s as part of the story, but he’s the hero so of course he gets the girl. The plot choices that aside are very strange, a bit nonsensical, and the voice acting, main couple aside, is bad.

Dropped:

(Not bad! Just not to my specific tastes.)

Alba Salix, Royal Physician: A grumpy witch tries to keep a kingdom healthy with the help of a fairy and unwilling apprentice. Comedy. I loved Alba, but I’m extremely picky with comedies, and this one wasn’t enough for me to keep with it.

Aqua Marianas: I couldn’t finish the first episode thanks to poor audio quality. From what I heard, it also seemed a bit tropey.

Control Group: A historical fiction about a woman committed to a mental institution for a crime she didn’t commit. I can’t handle this sort of horror; it’s too dark for me.

Counter Worlds: An anthology told audio book style, with narration, which I simply can’t focus on.

Darkest Night: A horror anthology with the frame narrative of a mysterious, suspicious organization doing research into memory. Rather gruesome. Very mainstream sort of horror; some episodes were good, but others indulged too many misogynistic tropes for my taste.

Hector Vs The Future: There was a laugh track and I didn't like that. I didn't make it very far in.

Herbarium Podcasts: A collection of miniseries. Honestly, I can’t even provide an accurate synopsis. My audio processing issues made listening to more than five minutes of this impossible; the inconsistent audio quality was way too distracting and broke my immersion.

Inkwyrm: Intergalactic haute couture. Everything about the concept of this podcast spoke to me on a fundamental level, but I couldn’t even get through all of episode one. The characters didn’t appeal to me, and the sound quality isn’t great. I couldn’t understand the AI character they introduced. When I skipped ahead to see if the audio quality got better, it didn’t, and just like with Herbarium Podcasts above, poor audio is a dealbreaker.

Love and Luck: Two men in love discover they’re witches, told through voicemail. Really, my problem here was just that I wanted more angst. They’re very happy and loving and they work through every relationship problem they have very quickly, and I just plain wanted more conflict and struggle.

Otherverse: Broadcasts from another world where aliens are subjugating humanity. Enjoyable and interesting enough to keep me subscribed, but nothing special. It’s all a little basic, and the audio quality leaves something to be desired. Got bored and the update schedule got sporadic, so I dropped it.

Palimpsest: A girl moves into a haunted house and attempts to cope with the death of her sister. This podcast improved as I listened. The voice acting is solid, but the writing and audio editing in the first few episodes felt very overdone. They picked up as things progressed, and the ending downright surprised me. Season 2 switched protagonists, and the new protag had such a poorly done accent, I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be Scottish, Irish, or Southern, and that bothered me too much to continue listening.

Poplar Cove: They made an asylum joke within the first five minutes of the first episode and that’s a hard no from me.

Sable: From the episode I listened to, this podcast appeared to be about urban legends and monsters, but admittedly I don’t know much. This podcast is told audiobook style, with a single narrator also performing the character voices and no sound effects. I have a very hard time focusing on those sorts of tales.

Saffron and Peri: Comedy podcast about a fairy godparent school. As mentioned previously,  I’m extremely picky with comedies and none of the characters pulled me in, so I dropped it.

Tales of Thattown: Effectively, it’s Welcome to Nightvale in the south. Yet another comedy podcast that failed to strike a chord with me, though the creator’s a sweetheart.

Thrilling Adventure Hour: A series of standalone stories. No real complaints; the couple stories I tried just didn't catch my interest. 

Tumanbay: A historical fiction podcast surrounding citizens of the imagined city Tumanbay, based on the Mamluk empire in Egypt. Honestly, I'm n the fence on if this should be in my outright "Not Recommended" category. Everything about the production quality was good; the voices and story were interesting. However, this podcast is written and produced by two British men who profess they invented Tumanbay as a separate place because they thought adhering to historical accuracy would be too restrictive and difficult. Little things like the escaped slave who used Slave as his preferred name, or the fact that the more intelligent/cerebral characters all had British accents, while the more brutish ones had Middle Eastern ones, when this is supposedly an entirely Middle Eastern area, got under my skin enough to make me drop it.

Tunnels: A mystery podcast inquiring about a mysterious series of tunnels under a town. The format and tone are rather closely modeled after The Black Tapes, and as I ultimately wasn’t a fan of that, I elected to drop this.

We're Alive: A surviving the zombie apocalypse story. Supposedly, another major pioneer in the rise of modern audio drama. But I didn't realize until I started that the protagonist was a soldier, and I don't care for soldier stories.

Violet Beach: Strange time shenanigans happen to teens when the sun sets purple. The monologues it’s told through tend to meander, and lackluster VAs and no sound design made it especially hard to focus, so I dropped this.

Zoo: An FBI agent attempts to solve the mystery of a traveling zoo home to a variety of cryptids. Lower production value than most other podcasts here and occasionally makes strange choices, but develops its plot steadily and does some interesting things with its premise. Unfortunately, the developments weren’t enough to keep my attention on the long term, so I made the tough choice to drop it.

[aion-rsa]

The 100 Prequel Series Would Employ a Lost-Like Flashback Structure

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The following contains spoilers for The 100 backdoor pilot episode “Anaconda”.

As backdoor pilots go, The 100 episode “Anaconda” is darn effective. The hour serves as an origin story for the human survivors of Earth’s first nuclear apocalypse, taking us all the way back to the pivotal moment in 2052 when the missiles were launched and a cult-ish group known as the Second Dawn locked themselves underground for protection.

“Anaconda’s” story is compelling in and of itself, following Second Dawn leader Bill Cadogan and his semi-estranged family as they attempt to survive the end of the world and determine what direction the future of the human race will take in the aftermath. The story eventually splits our survivors into two groups – one who will form the ancestors of the Grounder clans we already know, and a second, who will colonize other planets far from Earth.

The episode also fills in the gaps at the end of Becca Pramheda’s story, burning her at the stake before sending the future Grounders off with the AI known as the Flame and a legend that will one day turn into the Commanders. The second group of survivors leaves through the portal, to an eventual future as the Shepherd’s Disciples on Bardo, which will take them outward from there to Sanctum, Skyring, and Nakara.

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The planned The 100 prequel would explore the story of what happened after the future Disciples and future Grounders part ways, with one faction led by Cadogan himself and the other by his daughter, Calliope. Unlike its predecessor, however, it would also employ a narrative flashback structure to introduce viewers to what the world was like on pre-apocalypse Earth.

“I’m also fascinated by the world that led up to the apocalypse, which sadly feels a lot more like our world every day,” showrunner Jason Rothenberg told Den of Geek.

Given the brief glimpse we see into the world of 2052 on the Cadogans’ television screen, with its overpopulation, large-scale climate protests, and police brutality – not to mention the imminent global thermonuclear destruction – there certainly seems as though there will be plenty of timely and uncomfortably familiar story there.

“Getting to kind of go back and show that, to me, was part of the fun of this, and certainly will be part of the—fun might be the wrong word—but part of the drama of this show will be flashing back consistently to the pre-apocalypse to show all of our characters who they were before this, our global catastrophe struck,” Rothenberg said. “So, much like Lost used flashbacks, I think we’ll do that as a device in this series.”

The 100 has always been a series that shines brightest when exploring stories of characters under extreme duress, using nightmarish circumstances to show us what humanity is capable of – for both good and ill – when pushed to its limits. “Anaconda” is no exception, and the proposed prequel series will certainly be much the same, as the two ragtag groups who depart the Second Dawn bunker build new societies in two very different situations. As one group heads into a literal nuclear wasteland, the other journeys to the stars, But both will surely be asked to make difficult, if not impossible, choices almost immediately.

This is, in fairness, the sort of narrative environment in which flashbacks could be an extremely useful tool. Though we’re familiar with the general scope of the prequel series’ universe, we don’t know any of these characters. At the moment, most of them don’t even appear to be connected to anyone from the current world of The 100. The idea of letting us see them as the people they once were in the real world is appealing and will provide necessary layers to their post-apocalyptic experience. After all, it lands differently when someone chooses to kill if they were a pacifist all their life before that moment, doesn’t it?

But using flashbacks as a narrative device can also be something of a double-edged sword.

Sci-fi series Lost is rightly credited with pushing this storytelling trick into the mainstream television toolbox, but it’s been a fairly regular feature on many shows in the decade-plus since we were all stuck on an island together. From Orange is the New Black to This is Us, regular flashbacks have become a standard tool for exploring what makes specific characters tick, as well as to illustrate how they’ve been molded by their life experiences in ways both good and bad. (They’re also super useful for pulling off shocking plot twists and/or playing with the passage of time in a given series – looking at you, Westworld.)

Since The 100 is a CW property, the superhero drama Arrow is perhaps our most instructive comparison. It uses the flashback – and in later seasons, flashforward – structure to frame its episodes for the entirety of its run and is a great example of what’s both wonderful and awful about the format. For its first two seasons, the flashbacks of Oliver Queen’s time on Lian Yu served a necessary narrative purpose. Season 1’s were instructive, filling in necessary gaps for us about how a once shallow playboy transformed himself into a combat-ready vigilante. The second season flashbacks were more fully integrated into the overall plot, showing us how Oliver’s history with Slade Wilson had a direct impact on his present-day struggle with Deathstroke.

After that, however, the flashbacks became almost pointless, something the show included simply because it was a framework the series had established as something it had to have, rather than a tool it used constructively. In them, Oliver went to Hong Kong, and then back to Lian Yu again, and then to Russia, without ever informing his family he was actually alive. We could have really all done without all of them. (And let’s be honest, that show had plenty of women who could have used the screentime.) Did the show just get tired of coming up with reasons for the flashbacks to exist? Maybe. The audience certainly got tired of watching them, which likely drove the show’s decision to flip to flashforwards during the show’s final seasons.

Maybe flashbacks, as a narrative device, have a definite shelf-life. Even infamous ones on Lost itself eventually felt more confusing than thrilling.

The multiple tightly plotted elements of “Anaconda” – particularly surrounding Becca’s arrival and death – point toward a narrative that has been thought out to a fairly granular degree. This is an encouraging sign that perhaps Rothenberg already knows what stories he wants these flashbacks to tell, and the ways in which they need to connect to the prequel series’ larger arcs. But how long they’ll be a viable tool for the show, once we know these characters better and have a firmer grip on how their stories slot into the history The 100 has already shown us is something the prequel series will have to figure out on its own.

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