#I am a mad scientist - fear me
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WIP Wednesday
Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story)
Summary: Steddie Canon compliant/fix-it fic paired with a corresponding story in Steve’s POV, each chapter happens in tandem with the other.
Eddie wakes up alone in the Upside Down, not knowing how he survived, and unable to reach anyone topside in Hawkins. Wounded and alone, he finds shelter at the Harrington’s house (the place is a damn fortress after all), and while hiding out there discovers that he has gained the ability to walk into other people’s dreams.
((Content warnings in tags))
(un-beta’d snippet of Chapter 2; Eddie made it to the Harrington’s house in one piece last chapter, and hasn’t tried to step outside of it ever since. It’s safe, he has room and food and endless supplies (make-shift or otherwise), and he’s still pretty injured and needs to rest. But idle hands and all that, plus adjusting to living in the Upside Down isn’t exactly a walk in the park.)
--
It takes over a week before Eddie leaves Steve’s house.
To be fair, he sleeps a lot of it. (Still healing, and all that; blood loss is no fucking joke.) He doesn’t dream of Steve, or with Steve, in that time. In fact, he’s not dreaming much at all, thank Jesus, because when he does… it always ends with the bats.
Gnawing, swarming, rows and rows of teeth digging into his sides, going for vital organs. A tail around his neck, more pulling at each limb, like he’s being drawn and quartered. Screaming as teeth sunk into him over and over again. Being disemboweled alive – sounds metal as fuck. Actually sucks balls.
He wakes up far too many times to a double tap of paralyzing fear. First shot – being eaten alive in his dreams, not knowing if it’s real or if it’ll stop. Second shot – not knowing if he’d screamed when he woke up, and what might have heard him if he did. It’s enough to make anyone curl up in the fetal position and shake.
But then Eddie focuses on trying to contact Steve. After a few days of rest, his head no longer swimming, and his wounds in the gross, early stages of healing and scarring, Eddie realizes he needs out. No one was going to come looking for him here, at Harrington Manor (now Casa de Munson), so if he wants the rescue party to locate him he’d have to send up some flares. Discreetly.
He tries the lights. He tries the doors. He tries the TV (à la Poltergeist), and the stereo system in Steve’s room. The walkie-talkie radio that is obviously Henderson’s handiwork. He even tries Harrington’s fucking hair dryer. God knows he’d noticed that thing on the fritz. He lets his hand pass through the drifting bits of tickling light whenever Steve actually deigns to be home and turn something on, but half the lights are too high for him to reach (damn rich people’s homes and their fucking vaulted ceilings) and the rest don’t seem to have any kind of impact on the guy.
Eddie calls Steve many unflattering names this particular morning, specifically after the hair dryer incident. He messed with it until the damn thing blew a fuse, and it yielded results he never in a million years would have predicted. It seems Steve did in fact notice this, and then? Then Eddie could hear Steve, loud and clear. Just like they had with Henderson when they were stuck over spring break, as if he was trapped in the walls. Steve yells right back at him, or to God or whoever, some choice words very similar to Eddie's own a moment ago. And it was so dramatic and so… good to hear a voice again in the pulsating nothingness of the Upside Down that Eddie laughs until he cries.
Sometimes in the mornings (when he can’t bother to pull himself out of bed) he could hear Steve and Buckley talking in the kitchen, but he hasn’t heard Steve’s parents and most of the time Steve doesn’t talk at all when he’s home. It gets to the point where Eddie starts to worry he might have to make the trip to Henderson or Sinclair's house. If any of those little brats has the intelligence to count on in a dire situation like this, it’s Sinclair’s 11-year-old sister. (Heaven help him.)
The biggest problem with that plan is… there are things out there. The bats swarm daily; when they pass over the house it sounds like a tornado is about to take off the roof. There’s creatures that stalk about between the trees, taller than a normal man, and scavenging creatures of all sizes. Dog-sized, rat-sized, more he can’t even make out. The vines creep and move, try to wiggle under the doors of the house sometimes but can’t make it past the weather seals. And there’s something huge, vaguely Jabba The Hut shaped, that slithers about and Eddie is fucking terrified it might move faster than it looks.
There’s more, too, he knows this. He hears the cries and shrieks in the night of the creatures hunting each other. If that’s not a terrifying enough scenario for you, imagine how Eddie felt the moment he realized they eat each other and are still a hive mind. They are starving. No wonder they are so hostile and ravenous for human flesh. It’s food that doesn’t hurt to eat.
It’s about this time that Eddie starts to take notes. A day or two before he makes his first venture outside the house. His mind is a maddening buzz of information and fears and observations and questions. He can’t think, he can’t put anything in order, it makes him want to knock himself out just for a moment of peace. But the risk of nightmares starts to deter that. So he finally does the one thing he swore he would never do; he takes the long suffering advice of his old middle school guidance counselor. The one he was too full of anger to hear properly, at the time.
He writes it all down.
It starts as stream of consciousness, dumping all the chatter and words in his head onto paper just to put it somewhere. To save his dwindling sanity. And soon his brain, trained and honed like a broadsword blade by his DM campaigns, begins to group information on instinct. Ideas. Categories. Plans.
Ten hours and a hell of a cramp in his hand later, he actually has a plan. He might have… started to lose it a little by then, too, because the layout sounds a bit like the intro monologue to one of his campaigns:
Eddie the Banished has been left behind; not out of hate or convenience, but out of circumstance. He doesn’t blame his party for doing so. They are at war with a fearful, deadly foe. They thought he’d been vanquished. Defeated.
Alas, he endured.
He survived.
Eddie the Banished was now in hiding, behind enemy lines.
He found himself in quite an advantageous position — and if this were a D&D campaign, he knew just what he would do. He’d do reconnaissance. He’d make maps and creature dossiers, stash weapons and provisions, he'd be the best ‘presumed dead’ spy a campaign had ever asked for. He could do so much good, getting everything ready.
So what was stopping him doing the same, here?
Easy:
Fear.
The very real reality that he could be eaten by a monster.
The fact he’s a storyteller, not a fighter.
The pros and cons list literally began to write itself, filling pages in Steve’s (very worryingly unused) high school notebooks that Eddie had commandeered. But the pros are a lot longer than the cons.
In summary:
Pros = prepare everyone for what comes next. (If his brief glimpse of downtown was anything to go by. They still had a boss battle to fight.)
Cons = he’s a coward at heart, who knows how to keep himself alive first and foremost.
… It takes him rereading his own notes until the wee hours of the morning to realize… that may be a skill, and not a flaw. The ability to keep himself alive. At least here, it was. In the Upside Down. And wasn’t that the coolest adaptive mindset ever, enough that it propelled him into preparatory action. All the way to the following morning, where he stood just inside the interior door of the Harrington’s garage, working up the nerve to step outside.
—
tbc
—
Series Snippets:
- Dreamwalker (Eddie’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)
- Subconscious (Steve’s Story) (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)
#this part of the chapter was an experiment in formatting#who am I kidding this whole duology is an experiment in how much I can push traditional fanfic formatting#I am a mad scientist - fear me#Eddie curses a lot#using profanity as adverbs and adjectives#wip wednesday#dreamwalker subconscious series#this is just a snippet#cw descriptions of violence and gore#cw character death mentioned#cw injuries and healing of them#Eddie has a complicated view of himself. And possibly ADHD#snippets no one asked for#katyswriting#GOD DAMN IT I FORGOT THE IMPORTANT TAG#Steddie
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how does your muse carry emotions?
bold; always applies. italic; sometimes applies. strike; never applies.
𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 . jaw clenching. hands balling into fists. teeth grinding. yelling. going nonverbal. stuttering speech. rushed speech. slow, concise speech. rambling. quiet. arms crossing. shaking head. tearing up. animated. expressionless. projects. internalises. vents. withdraws. passive aggressive. direct. physical outbursts. verbal outbursts.
𝐉𝐎𝐘 . easy smiles. fighting back grins. suppressed laughter. loud laughter. giggles. chuckling. smirks. whole body laughs. covers mouth when laughing / giggling. throws head back when laughing. slaps leg. touches people around them when laughing. looks down when laughing. looks for eye contact when laughing. sparkling eyes. bubbly happiness. quiet, subtle happiness. obnoxious happiness. wants to spread joy. quietly savours joy.
𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 . crying. bottling it up. seeks distractions. wallows. meditates and processes. avoidance. seeks out comfort. withdraws. talks it out. internalises it. sad smiles. depression naps. uses alcohol. uses drugs. seeks out sources of joy. fidgets with sentimental item. sits in silence. broods. gets moody. wants someone to share the misery. tries to hide negative emotions. nurtures others to make themselves feel better.
𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 / 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄 . blushing. looking away. rubbing at back of head. covering face. laughing nervously. laughs it off. overthinks. lets it go. self-deprecating humour. deflects. gets irritated. smiles. withdraws. crossing arms over stomach. crossing arms over chest. hands in pockets. shoulders sinking. shrugs. falling into silence until comfortable again. talking a lot to compensate.
𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓 . avoiding eye contact. shoulders sinking low. head hanging down. crying. chest aches. lashes out. internalises. apologises. deflects. communicates. withdraws. grand gestures for forgiveness. accepts fault easily. punishes themselves. martyrdom. victim complex. over-active guilt complex. healthy conscience. internalises even after forgiveness. seeking redemption. moves on easily. denial. lack of guilt / conscience. sorry they got caught more than caused harm. can’t handle knowing they hurt others.
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 / 𝐀𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘 . trembling. crying. uses sarcasm / sass to cope. rambles. goes silent. gets angry. fidgeting. clenching jaw. picking at nails. chewing at lip. pulling at clothes. adjusting jewellery / clothing. swallowing thickly. eyes widening. over-reacts. under-reacts. calm. logical. panic. irrational. overthinks. carefully analyses. talks to themselves. breathing exercises. flight. fight. withdraws. fawns.
#ok some of these im sure about some of these i really have no idea#i think when she laughs she LAUGHS because well. mad scientist.#but also because shes not been :D happy :D that often :D so when she IS she doesnt really know how to control it. she loves to be happy :)#otherwise she's very quiet and reserved 90% of the time / part of knowing how to survive long in the dominion#she also has no idea how to process sadness bc it wasnt useful to her work so its just this distraction and inconvenience she doesnt#understand so it gets packaged away#the last three of course... fear of the founders all the way. quiet / internalized / safe.#im CERTAIN many of these will change but heres where i am right now#'wants to spread joy' is so cute considering shes. evil#SALUTE ME SENTRY HOLLYHOCK. [ ABOUT. ]
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Hii idk if you’re taking requests or not but I’m sorry if you aren’t!! I just wanted to see if u could maybe do a small smut story that still takes place in puzzle pieces and it’s basically where Miguel got really pissed & in sm stress because of some idiot and he accidentally hurts his shy wifey :,(( so he decides to make it up to her by literally giving her one of the best nights of her life and just gives her his baby yk 🤗
*TAGS ENTIRE PUZZLE PIECES TAGLIST*
Now, I won't ever say no to some extra Puzzle Pieces content, hehe.
Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, mentions of abuse, language, soft sex, oral (f receiving) , rough sex, creampie, overstimulation, praise, fluff
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It had been a very rough day for Miguel. From Alchemax to his mafia, there had been nothing but a slew of bad news. It had been two months since the Venom incident, yet for some reason the accursed drug still tormented the streets.
Come to find out that one of Eddie's followers took on his role, giving a new gang to rise called Carnage. Miguel was furious at the situation given to him. Especially since Carnage had gone out of his way to kill one of his trusted men.
"¡Mierda! ¡Cuántas tonterías tengo que soportar! (Fuck! The amount of bullshit I have to deal with!)" Miguel roared at the top of his lungs.
Then, Alchemax had to put some icing on the cake, and get a lab blown up. Several idiot scientists were in the hospital all because they decided to take a risk Miguel told them not too. The worst part was that Miguel couldn't fire them yet. He had to wait until all of the legal bullshit flew over.
"Miguel?" You whispered.
Miguel was consumed with rage that he didn't even hear his poor little fiancé. You were standing in the corner, watching Miguel's fit. This was the not the first time you've seen him mad, but at the same time, he had never gotten this mad before.
"Fuck! Those fucking-"
Miguel yelled once more as he grabbed the closest thing to him and tossed it. He needed to let out his anger somehow.
"Ah!" You cried.
Upon hearing your terrified yelp, Miguel snapped out of his state of anger. He quickly rushed to your side, seeing you bend down and shaking. His eyes widen towards your fear. Immediately scooping you up, Miguel whispered apologizes.
"Mi conejita, (My bunny), I'm so so sorry," He whispered, kissing your head as he brought you to the couch, "Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell and-"
Miguel's eyes soften as he saw a small cut on your shoulder. He glanced back towards the glass he threw. Cussing quietly, Miguel kissed your cut repeatedly.
"Mi amor (my love), I won't ask for you to forgive me-"
"I-It's...o-okay," You whimpered softly. Miguel frowned as he kissed your tears away,
"It's not. I hurt you in my fit of rage."
"B-But y-you weren't...m-mad at m-me," You tried to reassure him. Miguel gently bit your hand before kissing it,
"I promise I'll take my rage elsewhere." He whispered, kissing you once more then your cut, "I never, ever, want you to be afraid of me. You don't ever need to be afraid again."
"Miggy,"
You were still trembling, but knew Miguel meant well. He had never hurt you before and will never. This was just an accident that he was taking to heart. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled as you felt him kiss your cut more.
"M-Miguel..." You whispered, getting cozy.
Miguel picked you up and took you to your shared bedroom. His kisses were nonstop as he laid you against the bed. His large grip, holding you gently as you spread you legs for him. Miguel inhaled deeply to your gesture.
"Such a good girl for me," He groaned, kissing your neck, "Let me make up for my foolish behavior. Give my precious wife the best night of her life."
"M-Miguel!" You squeaked, feeling his hands take off your sweatpants, "I-I-I..." You covered your face, feeling flustered.
"Am the best? Am too good for me?" Miguel filled in your words as he placed his head under your shirt, kissing up your stomach.
"Ah~ M-Mig~"
You trembled as Miguel took off your shirt. His kisses leading up to your breasts, back to the small cut on your shoulder. Miguel's hands were all over you, stroking each part of your body until you stopped shaking.
The warmth of his hands, begging your body for forgiveness. Miguel inhaled to the soft sound of your moans as he grinded his bulge against your panties. Your body arching against his hips, whimpering and whining for more friction.
"I'm sorry, Mi conejita (my bunny). I won't ever harm you," Miguel whispered as he groped your breasts.
"Mhpm~ I-I know....y-you didn't mean it," You cried, feeling your core burning up, desperate for release, "I-I-I'll a-always, ah~ ah~ M-Miguel~"
You arched your back, crying out your first of many orgasms. Taking a moment to catch your breathe, you squirmed and whimpered as Miguel took your damp panties off. He kissed your nipples, humming lowly as he bend down.
You tried to stop Miguel, wanting to hold him, but gasped loudly as you already felt his tongue against your clit. You gripped against the bedsheets, moaning his name as Miguel feasted. This was always his way of spoiling you after a rough day.
Though you had to question if it was more enjoyable for you or him.
Your body was shaking as Miguel held your hips in place. His tongue ravishing your pour clit and pussy. Your vision had begun to blur once more as you felt your high returning. With a curl of your toes and another grip against the bedsheets, you cam once more.
"Good girl," Miguel blew against your cunt, watching you twitch, "My precious good girl."
You shuddered and whined as Miguel returned to licking your clit. His tongue lapping up the mess you made. You were already overstimulated, unable to handle the amount of pleasure you were receiving now.
"M-Mig! M-Miggy!" You whined, riding his face, "P-Please..."
"Anything,"
Miguel hummed as he gave your pussy a break to give you a deep kiss. Your adorable fucked out expression just eager for more. With swift movement, Miguel slowly pressed his dick inside your tight gummy walls.
"Ah~"
"See how hard you make me?" Miguel hummed, kissing your small wound once more, "I am yours and you are mine."
"Mhm~ Y-Yes~" You gasped, holding onto Miguel as he rested his hips against yours.
"My beautiful wife," Miguel grunted as he pulled out slowly before hitting you deep, "Taking me in so well."
You gasped and moaned as Miguel took his time. Your pussy fluttering and gushing around his cock with each slow and rough thrust. Miguel kept kissing your body, whispering nothing but praises as he took you nice and slow.
"Such a good girl. Does my little bunny enjoy this? Shall I keep going slow?" Miguel asked with a tease, enjoying your blissed out expression.
"Y-Yes~ Ah~ Hah~ F-Fill me, p-please." You begged, babbling your moans like a cock drunk mess.
"Fill you? Do you want to make me a daddy?" Miguel said with a light chuckle as he got hard at the thought, "Wanna be a mommy, mi amor?"
"Ah~ Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried another orgasm, feeling your mind doze off.
Miguel felt a shiver run down his spine. His grin widen as he held your hips and placed your on your knees. Miguel kissed your back as he started to pound your pussy from behind. The loud slapping noises of your juices against his dick and your moans were consuming the room.
"My wife wants a baby. I shall give it to you," Miguel chuckled, nibbling against your ear as he ravished your hole.
"Ah~ Ah~"
Your face was pressed into the pillow as you moaned to each thrust. His hot seed filling your womb, causing you to gush and cum against his dick. Drool rolled down your mouth as Miguel kept his ruthless pace, praising you constantly.
"Awe, look your womb is swallowing my cum. Now this is a way to end such a shitty day," Miguel groaned as he placed you on your back, "Giving my wife a baby."
You arched your back, your mouth forming an 'o' as you felt Miguel's dick rub against your sweet spot. Words unable to form as you just whimpered and moaned to his thrusts. Miguel pulled you into his embrace as he held you in mating position, fucking you senselessly,
"I love you, (Y/N). I love you so much,"
You would repeat, but you were so cock drunk that you weren't paying attention. With another orgasm, you fell unconscious.
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You awoke the next day, sore and exhausted. Miguel had washed you up and put on your most comfortable pajamas-his clothes. You smiled weakly towards the water and pain killers on the side table. There was also a note and you felt a bandage on your shoulder.
"Hehe, Miggy," You cooed, finding your soon to be husband so overprotective.
As you laid on your back, you started to recall last night's passionate sex. Your face turned bright red as you started to remember begging Miguel to fill you and him assuming you wanting a baby. You covered your face into the pillow, squealing lowly.
"M-Maybe....we....we could....k-keep trying...f-for one."
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@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderman#miguel o'hara smut#atsv miguel#across the spiderverse#spiderman miguel#miguel x reader#miguel ohara#miguel x y/n#miguel x you
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Like facing off against Cthulu, but it's really just your fears.
Part two, Part three, Part four, Ao3
Gore. Gore warning. Someone waking up in the middle of body horror being done to them. Gore gore gore. Do not interact if that is not something you want to read. I have other works under the tag phanfic that are not like this if you wanna read stuff I do.
Also elements of abuse.
I am not joking, someone wakes up in a really bad situation. Danny is shown in a...very familiar situation if you've ever been an unfortunate victim of abuse. If you cannot handle that, stay away.
~~~~~~~
Dick had been, admittedly, not paying attention. Granted he had been in a rather low-crime area, he could only imagine the kind of tongue-lashing Damian would give him.
Because typically Damian was the first to let them know when they'd fucked up.
Batman was second, but with fatherly scolding.
Alfred would scold quietly, over the course of a week, with disappointed glances and quiet sighs.
He had not been expecting the soft puncture in his shoulder, nor had he been expecting the burning pain afterwards.
The pain had only given him enough adrenaline to turn around and see two figures walking towards him, right before everything went dark.
Then he woke up.
And he really, really wished he had not.
He knew his mask was still on.
He knew his uniform was still on.
He also knew that he was not supposed to be able to feel the breeze on his fucking intestines.
He tried to move his arms, but something held them down. Same as his legs.
There was a deep, permeating ache. A pain that let him know he was in mortal danger.
It was centered on his chest.
His brain was still coming back online, and his head slowly lifted as much as he could bear and looked down.
Red.
Muscles.
Organs.
His skin, peeled back and pinned in place.
A fucking gardening shear approaching one of his ribs.
So much blood.
"Look honeybunches! It's 'waking up'!"
"Oh you! You know better than to distract me when I'm cutting, fudgecakes!"
"I'm sorry, puddin! But look at how it's got red ectoplasm!"
"It really is fascinating, these Gotham ghosts! Let's keep going!"
'No,' Dick thought hysterically, the pain beginning to cut through the tranq, 'Let's not continue, please no, don't don't don't-'
The thought was cut off by the starburst sensation of his rib being crushed, a horrific tugging sensation he could feel throughout his whole body, and then said rib was ripped out of him.
He couldn't help it.
Dick had been tortured before but fuck, this was a whole different level of fucked.
He screamed.
He screamed loud, and long, and petered off into panting sobs.
"Well now, that was rude."
"And he's been so considerate for a ghost so far! Bring out the muzzle sweetie!"
The large one came close to his head, some weird contraption in his hands, and Dick let out a keening whine. He could not let them put that thing on him, he could not-
"Mom, Dad!"
All movement stopped in the lab.
Dick felt his heart sink.
That was a kid. No kid should have to see someone being...being...
He couldn't even think it.
"Hurry, it's Phantom!"
And like that, the two mad scientists, because that was what they were, what they had to be, scrambled to grab a bunch of weapons and bolted outside of the lab.
Quiet footsteps scurried down the stairs and to his side.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I should have stopped them but they never listen and I...I'm going to have to stitch you up. This is going to hurt, but it's the only way you'll live."
Dick shakily turned his head to look at the kid, and oh.
Oh.
He was probably going to end up with a new brother by the end of this.
Black hair, blue eyes, bad living situation, stubbornly determined to do good.
Dick did the only thing he could do.
He shook his head.
"Nuh-no, g-get out. Ru-run."
He had to get the kid away from those lunatics, they could come back at any moment.
The kid's face adopted a stubborn look Dick was all to familiar with.
No, please, this was not the time, no Wayne-family pig-headedness, the kid had to run-
The shackled keeping his arms and legs in place released with a hiss, and he started reaching for his injury only to be stopped.
"Mr. Nightwing, sir, I have to stitch you up now or you won't survive. Please don't touch it, you'll...you'll make it worse."
Oh, Dick didn't like that sentence. It spoke of experience.
This kid was too sweet to have gone through something like what has happening to the professional vigilante, please no.
But the kid didn't waver at all.
With an experienced hand, he grabbed the medical supplies he would need and with a constant mantra of apologies, unpinned Dick's fucking skin from it's place and started piecing him back together.
Sans a rib, obviously.
"You're going to need antibiotics, immediately," the kid muttered under his breath, clearly trying to stave off a panic attack, "this is not a sterile environment. The stitches will have to come out to make sure your uniform isn't in the wound. Some of your remaining rib may need to be amputated, those were not surgical fucking gardening shears-!"
Dick had seen Jason go through enough panic attacks to know what to do.
It was difficult, but he lifted a heavy, shaking hand and rested it on the kids head.
He couldn't card his fingers through the kids hair, but that seemed to help.
The stitches did hurt, but it was a pain Dick was used to.
A pain that meant he was going to get better, eventually.
Necessary and good.
The kid cut off the thread from the last stitch and froze, cocking his head to one side.
Then, with what Dick could only assume as adrenaline fueled strength, he was bodily forced to stand.
He held in the scream, instead clutching at the kids shirt and ripping it.
He'd feel bad about that when he could think clearly.
"Mr. Nightwing, we have to get you to the fire escape, and you have to call the others to save you."
He was being pushed out of a window and found himself leaning on the railing, panting and staring down at the kid.
"I'll distract them as long as I can."
He tried to reach out, to grab the kid and take him with him, but the window shut. The blackout curtains closed.
The voices that he was sure would haunt his nightmares started shouting inside.
Dick struggled up three flights, barely making it to the roof before collapsing.
He couldn't save the kid.
Not as he was.
But his family could.
He activated his comm, which he was never turning off again, thanks, and was introduced to a cacophony of shouting.
No one knew where he'd been, why he'd gone, what had happened, did he have any idea how worried they were?
He felt a smile tugging at his lips and his body start to relax.
No.
He had to stay awake.
"We have new villains," he started, his shaky and faint voice making everyone stop talking, "They caught me off guard. Stupid. Should...should have been paying attention."
"Nightwing, keep talking. I have your location and will be arriving shortly."
"I'm gonna need more than a medkit," Dick breathed, letting out a whine as he shifted position, "They fucking vivisected me. Pinned me down like a frog. Don't think I'll ever eat meat again."
"As thrilling as it is that you wish to join me in dietary practices, stay awake," Damian's clipped response did not hold any joy at the prospect.
Yeah, if this had happened to any of his other siblings Dick wouldn't be very happy either.
"They have a kid. Black hair, blue eyes, distracted them so he could do triage. The fuck kind of fifteen year old civilian knows triage?"
"Careful Dickie-bird, you're starting to sound like me."
Oh, that wasn't good. Even as mush as Dick's brain was, he could almost taste the Pit Rage in Jason's voice.
"He's still distracting them," Dick whispered, body relaxing against his will, "Can't...can't protect him. Dunno what they'll do."
There was a flash of red, and Tim was kneeling in front of him.
"Then we'll protect him," Tim said, carding a hand through Dick's hair as he took in the damage, "But first we need to get you to Alfred. Dr. Thompkins is already en route."
Dick let out a sigh, going limp against the roof.
He could hear his siblings shouting at him to stay awake, but he'd done that as well as he could.
His family would keep the kid safe.
He could rest.
~~~~~~~~
Bruce did not like seeing his children hurt.
It came with the territory of being a vigilante, but as a father he despised it.
But tortured?
No.
That was unacceptable.
And from what Dick said, there was a child in even more danger, if that was possible.
He stared through the glass as Dr. Thompkins operating on Dick's prone form.
He really had been vivisected.
The Y-shaped incision was clean cut in a way that said he hadn't been awake when it was made.
The bruises on his wrists and ankles told him that Dick's unconscious state had not stayed that way.
The careful stitches that Leslie had been forced to undo had been methodical, practiced.
But as she had said, a little off.
Like the kid knew how to do them, but from a different angle.
The sound of another dummy breaking brought him back.
He couldn't leave the kid-Daniel-with his parents.
No way in hell.
Tim had already run a search on them.
Jack and Madeline Fenton, parents to two children; Jasmine Fenton and Daniel Fenton.
Jasmine was in college, out of the abusive situation.
Her search history showed her constantly looking up affordable apartments for a college student with two rooms, but rent in Connecticut was a bit over a college students head.
It must have been killing her.
The Fenton's had moved out of Amity Park after an episode where Daniel had a psychotic break in school, and the police had started looking into his parents.
Bruce did not want to imagine what the boy had been through to warrant a psychotic break.
Nightwing's feed had showed them a scared kid who knew far too much about medical practices.
A kid who was terrified of the consequences of helping but deciding to help anyways.
There was no question about Bruce adopting him and his sister.
He would keep them away from crime-fighting.
They deserved a break from violence.
Even Damian had commented that the room next to his was ready for someone to move into.
His thoughts were cut off by Jason's feed on the Batcomputer.
"You were right," Gordon sighed, meeting Red Hood outside of the apartment in question, "We got the files from Amity Park Child Services. If you're ready to go in and make sure they don't hold their own kid hostage, we're ready to prosecute them."
"Fucking fantastic," Jason's voice growled through the helmet, the man turning to go up the fire escape.
"And should we have Mr. Bruce Wayne on speed dial, then?" Gordon drawled, making Hood pause.
"...Sure. Put the man on speed dial. Kid's adoption bait anyways."
Bruce could hear Gordon in the background getting the officers ready to arrest two new villains, ones that had already managed to capture and torture one of the city's beloved heroes.
Jason made quick work of the fire escape, soundlessly hauling himself to where Cass was waiting.
He paused, and they listened to make sure it would be safe to enter.
The feed picked up Jason moving his head to where Cass pointed out a small gap in the curtains.
The Drs Fenton had their son against a wall, a strange collar on his neck.
It looked like the kid was dissociating, no struggle present.
His shirt was torn, and on his chest...
On...his chest...
A Y-shaped scar.
One that bore the marks of poor healing, likely from previous infections.
Maddie Fenton was in her sons face, clearly threatening him.
And Cass punched through the window with her bare fist, an uncharacteristic show of rage.
From there Jason's feed was a chaotic mix of flashing lights, brief glances of Cass's bloodied hands, and finally, at the end; the sounds of the Drs Fenton screaming in pain.
And then the feed was full of Daniel.
Defiant blue eyes, panic clearly barely held at bay, shoving himself between an enraged Hood and equally angered Orphan.
"Please!" The boy shouted, keeping himself between the vigilantes and his parents even as the cops broke down the door, "Please! They...they're just sick. Please."
Bruce ground his teeth, even as Jason's footage showed his son lowing his gun and reaching out for the kid.
He was taking in Daniel.
He was giving him a better life.
And he would keep him far, far away from the violence being a vigilante would bring.
@skulld3mort-1fan @zelabee @waspsarebetterthanbeesanyways @ailithnight story prompt here
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom#danny fenton#cassandra cain#batman#orphan#bruce wayne#jason todd#tim drake#red robin#red hood#nightwing#dick grayson#jack fenton#maddie fenton#jazz fenton#damian wayne#robin#gore#gore tw#abuse tw#phanfic#internalcthulufic
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A Little Bit of Madness
CW: serious Injury, surgery, implied needles, body modification
Supervillain awoke with a start, a sort of ghastly, gasping awakening that even startled them. They blinked hard, slowly taking in their position, prostrate on a cold table. Three things struck all at once: one, they had no idea where they were or how they got here. Two, they couldn't move. Three, they couldn't feel. From the thick feeling in their head, they thought that things should be hurting, but the only sensation they were getting was a strange numbness from head to toe.
They made some effort to lift their lifeless arms but only managed a tired grunt.
"Don't move, my love," came a familiar, reedy voice near their head.
"Scientist?" Supervillain mumbled. It came out croaky, but at least that was one part of their body they could move.
In answer, cool hands began stroking down their temples. "Those horrible heroes tried to kill your beautiful self."
"Kill me?"
"Yes." Scientist stooped down, the sharp diamond cut of their bones coming into view as their long hair tickled Supervillain's cheek. Supervillain searched their sterile gray eyes, more like doomsday cloud today than their usual steady steel. "They completely ignored our treaty and decided to take their chances and blow you up. Not good chances. You know, I think they underestimate me."
"Scientist..." Supervillain strained to move an arm, a finger, a muscle, anything to hold them. Their lover was sensitive, always double, triple, quadruple checking, fearing the worst, overprotecting. This injury must have devastated them. Well, if they couldn't comfort them with touch, they could manage some words. "I'm here. It's ok. I'm ok."
"They still haven't realized that I'm the boss in the relationship," Scientist laughed flatly, hysteria rising. "They think it's you with your powers and your voice and your big shoulders. They think if you're out of the picture everything will be solved. But I gave you those powers and I made those plans." Scientist pounded their chest, suddenly roaring, "If they wanted you dead, they should have killed me first!"
Supervillain's insides washed cold. Something was wrong. Very very wrong. This wasn't stress from a regular injury. This didn't even feel like a regular patch job.
"Scientist...what do you mean by "blown up"? How..." Supervillain winced as they tried to summon their latest memory and came up with nothing but heat and blinding light. "How am I here? What did you do?"
Scientist brushed at Supervillain's short hair, pinching at strands and smoothing them back. "You're stable. But some of the pieces still need to take."
"Pieces?" Supervillain's voice went up an octave. "What did you do?"
"I saved you, my love." They pressed a soft kiss to their forehead. "And maybe made you a little bit better. So that you'll stay safe."
"Scientist? Scientist what did you do? What exactly did you do? What happened."
"All in good time, love." Scientist moved out of Supervillain's line of sight. "For now, sleep. It's too early for you to be awake. You could hurt yourself."
There was some light clattering to Supervillain's right, and suddenly a sharp pinch in Supervillain's neck. Almost immediately all the lights and colors and sounds blurred together into pitch black.
The next time they woke, they were in a bed instead of a table. It was one of those wheeled hospital beds with an IV drip hooked up to it, but still a bed. Things still felt a little strange--courtesy of whatever was in that drip they were sure--but at least a few small kicks under the covers proved they could move again.
"There you are," came Scientist's voice, first distant and all at once right next to their head. "There's my favorite villain. Hey, love."
Supervillain took them in in slow blinks.
"How are you feeling?"
Another blink. "You did something to me."
It slipped off their tongue before they even recalled the night before. They didn't intend it to come out so much like an accusation.
Scientist's expression tightened, if only to keep themselves together. "You were in pieces. Even when I got most of you on life support, I had to go scrounging around the city for whatever parts those disgusting heroes didn't steal."
"Steal?"
"DNA, darling. Of course, they have their own scientific team assigned to cloning it. Their own army of supers. Fortunately, when I gave you those powers they weren't meant to alter you on a genetic level. I don't think they'll find much." Maybe Scientist saw the sickened look on their face because they dropped the topic. "No matter. All that's important is you're alright now. Do you want some jello? Or pudding? Oh, I got that swirl kind you like."
"I want a mirror."
"Not yet, darling. It'll be too much of a shock all at once. Give yourself time to get used to the feel first."
"I want a mirror," Supervillain repeated more firmly.
Scientist’s lips tightened, but they nodded. “As you wish."
They shuffled out of the room. Supervillain watched after them for a moment but quickly their eyelids began to droop. The next thing they knew Scientist was gently shaking their shoulder. Their lover pointed to the other side of the room before stepping away and biting the back of their knuckle.
Supervillain’s eyes flicked to the floor length mirror propped on the barren wall in front of them. For a moment they couldn’t find themselves. Only…metal.
An arm, a chest plate, a panel in their head where the hair cut short. As they straightened a sharp clicking sound resonated over their shoulder and their reflection showed a sort of long metal rod beginning at the base of their neck and followed the curve of their back like an outer spine.
“I can attach other prosthetics to that,” Scientist said quickly. “Wings, tail, whatever. It’s meant to connect the rest of these pieces to your nervous system but that’s the bonus.”
Nervous system. Suddenly Supervillain didn’t trust their earlier movement. They tossed back the blanket as best they could and, as they feared, found two completely new legs underneath.
They couldn’t breathe.
“I-I’m going to figure out how to synthesize a sort of skin to cover over it all,” Scientist said. “That way you won’t feel so strange.”
“So I won’t feel strange?” Supervillain murmured. “Everything left of me is burned, and the rest…” They scoffed, clenching their fists. “You don’t want me to feel strange? I am strange! You made me strange! That’s what you do! You push and prod and break and put back together! You think it’s fun making monsters? Experimenting like the rest of us are just lab rats in your world? You’re not Frankenstein! You’re not Dr. Jekyll! You’re just a villain who always takes it too far! You weren’t supposed to do this to me! I trusted you! You weren’t supped to…”
Supervillain turned their hands back and forth in front of them. A loud sob forced its way up their throat.
"I know." Scientist slid into the bed beside them and wrapped them in their arms. "I know. But I could not lose you. I would not."
Supervillain buried their face into Scientist’s neck, fury overshadowed by their need for comfort. A monster in the hands of their creator.
#mad scientist#creative writing#villain x villain#scientist x supervillain#heroes and villains#heroes and villains community#writblr#villain#hero x villain community#writing snippet
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Hange zoe DATING headcannons (your choice on sfw or nsfw or both if you’d like!) -🐢
Dating Hange Zoe would be like:
Hange is a scientist, so of course they need to gather research on you before "jumping to conclusions".
She'll watch you when out on missions just in case a titan gets a bit too close. Cant have her lover getting hurt, right?
Depending on wether you are a cadet or not, she will either show too much or little amounts to PDA.
If you are a cadet(18 OR OVER), well she'll keep your relationship a secret until she feels comfortable. If not, be prepared they love to show you off.
Hange keeps you close in a secret fear of never seeing you again. What if you're out on a mission and DIE? They wouldn't be able to bear it.
Hange sometimes uses their rank to get you things. Extra food, water, anything she can find.
Will start thinking about you when they are pulling an all nighter and cant stop. They wonder where you are, if you're asleep, if you're awake... if you're cheating on them
Hange is very self conscious about herself. She thinks that she isn't good enough sometimes and doesn't know what to do.
You, of course squash these thoughts by kissing her and showing her you love her. You show her how important she is to you.
Hanges kisses are gentle and sweet. She can get a little overwhelming due to the fact that shes just so happy to see you.
Dont ever let her sweet demeanor fool you though. They could very easily hurt someone or something if mad enough.
Example: Levi had made a comment about you being unprofessional because he believes your relationship(all relationships not just the gay ones) should be kept private. He berated you and told you to this is the military your could die any day.
You told Hange, and by the gods. You have never seen her so mad. They told you it was okay, and that they would "talk" to Levi.
The talking that she did ended up in her blowing up about how rude it was and how Levi wouldn't understand because his lover is dead. She slapped Levi and told him, "When you understand how afraid I am for her safety, you can talk about relationships."
You never thought she'd get mad enough to mention them(no real lover I'm just using this). Levi didn't say anything, he should have, but he didn't. Hange is the commander now, Hange is in control.
When Hange came back to you she promised it was handled nicely and neatly.
You never had a problem with anyone talking about your relationship ever again.
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
Hard, fast, rough. Maybe a bit sweet.(not maybe definitely) Hange gets quite needy after overworking and needs some help. You'll help her right?
They like being in control. With losing everyone and becoming commander she needs a form of stress relief.
They like when you call them daddy, seeing as they feel more masculine in bed. The first time you called them daddy. Well, your thighs hurt with how good she fucked you.
They love to eat you out. She prefers you not eat her, but if you convince her to let you. You'll have them wrapped tight around your finger.
She eat you for hours, she loves when you cry, and whine, and beg. She loves hearing you please for mercy while you both know she ain't giving you none.
"Aww, yes, I know it hurts. I know, but you'll take it, you'll take me. Now open those pretty thighs up again, I wasn't done."
Dont try bratting with them, it only makes things worse for you. They are the definition of fuck around and find out in bed. The madder she is the rougher she gets.
If you're sweet though, she'll treat you like the pretty little slut you are. She'll tell you, you're a good little slut and fuck you till you're both numb.
She has high stamina during the day. Why wouldn't she at night too?
"Fuckk, such a dumb little slut. You sure know how to eat me out. Maybe I'll reward you if you're good. You wanna be a good slut for me?
Dont worry she'll reward you, she melts when you eat her. Dont let her try and fool you.
As you can see she has a praise and degradation kink. They'll bully you in bed, make you cry(tears of pleasure), while fucking you so hard it should hurt.
Then again, you are her slut. So why does it matter if it hurts, you're here to feel good, to be overstimulated til you can't move, much less talk.
Aftercare is something out of this world. She'll bring you food, water, and will help you clean up.
She constantly reassures you she isn't mad, that she loves you, that you're hers. Shes so gentle with you.
She'll help you fall asleep and lay there for a while playing with your hair/drawing shapes on your skin with her hand.
Hii 🐢! I'm so glad someone has put in a request. It's not the best hit I'm working on my writing skills! I use a mixture of she/they for Hange seeing as I dont know if they are nonbinary or if that's a rumor. Anyway thank you for reading!
#aot girls#hange zoe x reader#hange x reader#aot#aot smut#im bad at this#wlw#lesbian#i cant write#🤦🏽♀️#i tried#hange zoë#aot headcanons
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Why we wanna transition to Mad Scientist (or, revulsion and queerness in horror)
(Hi, @ash-eats-film! This is the thing I mentioned!)
Horror has a few baseline emotions it tries to inflict on the audience. This has been written about for decades, most famously by Stephen King, but the baseline elements most writers agree on are as follows.
Dread: Anxiety over what is about to happen
Terror: The fear of what is occurring right this second
Revulsion: Being forced to interact directly with what's happening right now
Black comedy: Being tricked into laughing at either the terror or the revulsion
Horror: The trauma response to what just happened
A great example of this can be seen in The Evil Dead II (YT link that doesn't include the full context, but does have the, uh, money shot). There's the dread of realizing there's something in the root cellar; the terror of when the Deadite pops up in the trapdoor; the combined revulsion and black comedy of Ash jumping on the Deadite's skull/the door, popping out its eyeball which shoots into Bobby Joe's mouth, and then the horror of what just went down rolling over Ash and his current companions.
Often, revulsion and black comedy go hand in hand. That's because they're tension relievers. The revolting thing becomes ridiculous, and you laugh at how ridiculous it is. This lets you settle down in the midst of the gore and death, just slightly, just enough to get through it... so the horror can fully set in for you, too, once it's over.
You also, often, question your own stability if you laugh in the middle of a gross-out horror scene: "Am I sick? Is there something wrong with me for laughing at X?" This is even worse if the villain starts laughing--now you're questioning whether you're IDing with the monster. Are you okay? Is something wrong with you?
Revulsion is often framed as the slutty member of the good, proper, morally-upright brigade of horror. We have a name for folks who seek out gross-out horror--they're gore-hounds, a term that is virtually always pejorative when applied to other people. We call certain types of horror "torture porn" or "gore porn", as though it is inherently sleazy and sexual to rely on this specific emotional reaction. (Note that we don't have "black comedy-porn", or "dread hounds", even though a dread hound sounds really fucking cool.)
Not to go off on a huge tangent, but I think the issue with media that overly relies on revulsion is that it's unbalanced, not that it's bad. A movie that's nothing but dread never has any emotional payoff. A movie that's nothing but terror never lets the audience relax back into their seats and, paradoxically, will become boring (imagine two hours of jumpscares).
So forth and so on: all aspects of horror rely on each other to survive. That includes scenes that make you go "Awww, sick" while nervously cackling.
Here's the thing: in previous generations, revulsion was similarly understood to be an essential part of horror, but what led to a revolted reaction was very different.
Lovecraft (boo this man! BOOOOO) understood the power of revulsion, which was the source of a lot of his strangest and most vivid descriptions. It was also the source of some of his most bigoted ideas working into his stories. The undercurrent of "non-WASPs are evil because they are repulsive" is as pervasive in his work as "the universe is incomprehensibly vast". You kind of can't get around that.
But there's another thing Lovecraft did to generate revulsion. He wrote a number of stories where an unhealthy focus on corpses, graveyards, graverobbing, and the like is, indirectly or directly, associated with sexual perversion.
How many, you may ask? Off the top of my head, there's "The Loved Dead", "In the Vault", "The Disinterment", "Pickman's Model", The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath, "The Hound" and "Herbert West: Re-Animator". All of these tales share certain themes, which don't repeat beat-for-beat in each tale but do overlap:
Male character becomes obsessed with dead bodies--whether that's stealing them, having sex with them, desecrating them, or resurrecting them.
He is comfortable around death and the dead to a degree that is unusual, sometimes explicitly stating that he prefers the smells/sights of death to those of life.
Terms like "fiendish", "hellish", "abnormal" and "perverse" are used to describe him; his gaze towards dead bodies or to experiments may be framed as "leering" or "speculative".
He is frequently a twink; often described as being frail, if not noticeably beautiful; he may recall being mocked for being "bookish" or "weak" as a child.
He is superficially charming in a way that gets him by in polite society, but not long-term nor in-depth.
He often ensnares an otherwise "normal" man to share his obsessions, effectively recruiting him as an assistant... until the "normal" guy realizes he's about to go on the chopping block (or, in at least one story, already was on the chopping block).
Their crimes involve a lot of sneaking around late at night, locked doors, whispering so they don't get caught (or they'll be killed), secretiveness, glee at getting away with it, and frequently, sharing the same living space.
The Unrepentant Evil Dude is often killed at the end of his tale in a way that implies vigilante/mob justice is at hand.
The other may be allowed to live if he's very sorry and frames the whole story as being the fault of the other guy, or he may die too while affirming his horrible demise as just, even if it terrifies him.
(One could make an argument that Wilbur Whateley fits into some of these tropes. It's me I'm one)
If this all sounds very gay, Lovecraft probably would have agreed. He had as dim a view of homosexuality as he did on most other things that were Outside The Norm. In other words, we were supposed to see Richard Upton Pickman with his ghouls and think, "Ah, yes, this is a metaphor for queerness", only we were supposed to be revolted by that revelation.
This same attempt at revulsion can be easily read into Victor Frankenstein, and probably more Mad Scientists than I can name offhand (but feel free to in reblogs). Frankenstein's "crimes against nature" were connected to dead bodies as well, and likewise involved a lot of sneaking around, locked doors, and worry about what would happen were he caught with this naked man-thing he's keeping in his dorm. His crime, as with his parody character Herbert West, is creating life outside the bounds of heterosexual cisgender sex. This was meant to revolt readers' sensibilities as much as the whole cutting-up-corpses-and-stitching-them-back-together thing would.
This is why, if we're being honest, "Re-Animator" and "Bride of Re-Animator" are not necessarily gay… they're homophobic. This might be controversial, but stick with me.
I feel like Gordon and Yuzna were tapping into that old-fashioned Revulsion Handbook, including from the source material, which thematically linked Herbert West with queerness. (I'm using "queer" a lot here, but I would personally include trans-friendly readings under that rubric; I'm using "queer" in the analytical sense and not solely in the identity sense.) This means that, ironically, a lot of what we could point to as queer subtext is actually homophobic text.
This is reinforced by the novelization of the first film, written by a homophobe who got Trumpist brainworms later in life. He wanted to make West repulsive to the reader, and therefore, he tried to make West more gay. And IT WORKED.
To be clear, I'm not accusing anybody, other than the novelist, of being a homophobe. There's a difference between possessing internalized bigoted beliefs which express themselves in writing, versus utilizing tropes originating in bigotry because That's What's Done Around Here. (I can understand why others might not perceive a meaningful difference.) Like the Cuzco lizards, this queerness-as-villainy is definitely a stupid thing ported in from the source material.
I do think that this is why everybody but Our Queen Barbara Crampton seems embarrassed or nonplussed by all the transfags pestering them about fellatio tapes. It's because they don't get why this thing appeals so much to us. It shouldn't. If anything, they should be canceled for having yet another queer-coded villain, along with a number of other plot choices of questionable taste (I'm looking at you, The Head Scene, and I don't like what I see).
Only, uh, it didn't work out that way long-term, did it?
I thank Cronenberg and venereal horror for this, in part. Brutally queer despite not being explicitly gay, venereal horror is what happens when the characters should be revolted, but aren't.
This kind of thing is horrifying for crossing the line twice: first by being disgusting, then by having characters respond as though it is exciting, or sexually stimulating, or if nothing else, normal. They are perverse. They leer at the dead and the subjects of their experiments. And the disgusting monsters at the center of these narratives are celebrated. Their twisted sexualities are explored with the same brave frankness other filmmakers give to milquetoast cishet missionary nonsense. Their political views are given life and air, and usually, they're right. Their deaths, if they come at all, are framed as tragedies brought on by society's sick rejection of the flesh their brave experimentation.
Cronenberg's the dude who unironically thinks that Shivers (trigger warning for literally everything) has a happy ending. My man David's got subscriptions where others have issues.
Venereal horror has given us a new metaframework for looking at the repulsive, the monstrous, and the problematic and responding to it… differently.
Now here's another thing: Lovecraft likewise provided a structure for embracing the grotesque and the queer.
Pickman, the Decadent artist, paints photorealistic, enormous portraits of ghouls. Literal flesh-eaters. He is fascinated by them, comfortable with them. "Model" heavily implies that Pickman is a ghoul changeling--switched at birth with a human child. This leans into Lovecraft's ideas about heritability being a major source of horror, of course, and seems run of the mill until you get to The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath.
In there, Pickman appears again, but this time as a ghoul. He has cast off his human social shackles and joined the beings he loves, beings who understand him and support him. Kadath is notable in that the ghouls are actually... like... reliable, loyal, and morally good? Carter's opinion pretty much is, "They do eat human corpses and they smell awful, but they're all very nice and want to help me on my quest, so maybe they're not so bad (if not as good as the cat army)".
This feels like Lovecraft acknowledging that his entire approach of linking queerness, death, and revulsion is fundamentally flawed. Once you become familiar with the repulsive, it becomes not-really-that-repulsive-at-all. You can find beauty in it, and amusement, and love. Pickman embracing his ghoulish nature isn't all that different from Seth Brundle's overall lack of revulsion at his body's transformation. And it's not that different from what a lot of transmasculine folks go through, either.
It's not that transmascs, trans men, and/or transfags don't see what West does as crimes against nature. It's that we're all very fucking tired of being accused of crimes against nature. We're tired of not being able to look at socmed without finding accusations that we're disgusting perverts who sneak around behind closed doors to corrupt innocent, promising people to be our lackeys and partners in crime.
Hell, I refer to my wife as "my partner in crime" not because it's a cute way of acknowledging how well and how much we work together both in life and creativity. It's also because we could have been arrested for our relationship when we got together.
We were illegal.
There was a lot of sneaking around and whispering and trying not to get caught and "what if they call the cops on us if we're clocked". Can I tell my friends about this? Will they reject me or rat me out? Where am I safe? Nowhere. Best to lock the door and then check it again to be sure. Best to be very quiet.
Best to act like a graverobber trying to get their grisly wares back home before good, decent, Christian folk see them.
So when I hear "Blasphemy? Before what God?!", I read it as (whether he's ace or aro, gay or achillean, trans man or transmasc or genderfucked) a queer slogan of defiance, instead of a defense of graverobbing, corpse desecration, and non-consensual resurrection.
We're told we and our bodies are repulsive, so being told that Herbert is also repulsive makes him more relatable. Instead of wondering what the hell's wrong with him for shooting up reagent, we all theorize that it's actually T or has similar effects--because we're all told that T is a toxin that will horribly change and disfigure our bodies. He dresses in a three-piece suit for school, and instead of reading him as a stiff and overly-formal little freak, we assume he's layering up because he hasn't found a hoodie he likes yet.
He cackles at his horrific creations, and instead of saying "What a fucking freak (anguished)", we say "What a fucking freak (affectionate)" and laugh along with him. Who among us hasn't taken apart our Barbies and tried to combine their parts with the Kens? What is a doll, or a human, but a collection of parts to be rearranged? Haven't we also been told we're freaks for rearranging our own parts?
We've already been told by society at large that we are Herbert West. We're just embracing it, in the proud tradition of venereal horror fans who are not revolted when they ought to be, and I think that's delightful.
#fandom meta#reanimator#re animator 1985#bride of reanimator 1991#bride of re animator#herbert west#headcanon#transmasculine#body horror#venereal horror#cronenbergian#writing trope#i live for analysis#lovecraft#this has been rattling around in my head for ages and probably isn't going to cover everything or be correct but here we all are anyway#hope y'all like it
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Mortals and Fools — First Look #1 (Coming Soon)
Want to read a SFW coming-of-age fantasy novel with evil gods, two adult aspec protagonists and magic? Consider supporting this project!
Author's Note: After a total of 8 years of posting fanfiction on this account, I am excited to announce that I am finally starting my first long-term original work as an author! Goal is to get this series published as an actual novel but until then, I will be uploading chapters online as I write them, hopefully building an audience in the process! Mortals and Fools will be available on Wattpad and potentially other platforms. The first 4 chapters will be uploaded to Tumblr as well. Over the next few weeks I will keep uploading promo posts with new characters and more info! Thank you so much to everyone who has supported me as a writer over the years and welcome to everyone who's new here!
Summary: In the land of Elsthess, brilliant but arrogant Dr. Immanuel Faust is doing his best to follow the teachings of the Goddess of Wisdom, live up to his late grandmother's expectations and hide the fact that he has been seeing strange, mystical apparitions all his life.
When his pupil becomes afflicted with an ancient curse and the things he has seen turn out to be more than just hallucinations, Immanuel must forge a contract with Morgan, a being from another realm who's ready to humble him at every turn, and learn his religion's most despised art: magic.
As he steps outside of the simple world he has grown up in, he slowly comes to realize that there is much more to learn for him still.
Themes:
The Meaning of Wisdom & Growth
Unlearning harmful narratives and prejudices
Religious Trauma
Healing from Abuse
Rebuilding trust in others
Learning to understand others
Navigating radical changes during adulthood
Elitism and class inequality
The problems with the ideal of meritocracy
Queerplatonic & Alterous Attraction
Addiction
Gender Dysphoria
What this story contains:
A variety of fun magical powers!
Evil Gods & Forces from other Realms!
Queer rep! (demisexual & aroace protagonists, a trans man and a wlw couple)
Mysteries to unravel
The coming-of-age fantasy adventures you're used to from YA novels but with characters in their 20s and struggles of adulthood
Humor
My blood, sweat and tears as an author
The Cast: Introducing 3 Characters
Here's some info on the three characters in the header, from left to right!
#1 — Dr. Immanuel Icarus Faust
❝ It wasn't supposed to be like this... I've failed... as both a doctor and a man of faith. I wanted to follow your teachings, dear Goddess, and guide those who seek wisdom and knowledge, as grandmother did... but I couldn't even save one innocent girl. Have I become godless? ❝
Raised by his grandmother, the High Priestess of Solbrynn's temple, Immanuel was taught from an early age on to aspire to be the best in everything he attempted to do and dedicate his life to wisdom, in order to make the Goddess Adira proud. Having become a renowned physician at the age of 28, Immanuel understands himself as his kingdom's ideal of a self-made man: a scholar who can achieve everything he puts his mind to, no matter the circumstances. As a result, he has put himself on a pedestal, believing that those who achieved less than him had all the chances and merely didn't use them. Fearing nothing more than failure and becoming anything like his absent, alcoholic father; Immanuel is bound for a rude awakening.
#2 — Morgan Miralaith
❝ While you were having your existential crisis in the mad scientist laboratory you call your bedroom, I took the liberty to read your grandmother's diary. The good news is, I finally understand where all the hubris comes from. ❝
Morgan, belonging to a long-lived species from the realm of Calliah, is the second-in-command for the Elsthess Resistance against the Plague Avatars. While the Resistance on Mhorunn regards her as a capable leader and a skilled fighter; using fire magic to blaze her way to victory; it is clear to most that she has many secrets and ulterior motives. She cares about others in her own way, yet hardly lets anyone close to her. With her mischievous demeanor and cynical nature, Morgan has made it her new mission to recruit Immanuel for the Resistance and, while at it, shatter his very distorted self-image and worldview. Upon forging a contract with her, Immanuel believes that he has sold his soul to a demon. It is only upon meeting others of her kind that he realizes that really is just her personality.
#3 — Mortis Grimm
❞ People reject that which is foreign to them. You of all people should know this. Still, my personal aspirations and origins are of no concern to you. Remember that. ❝
While there are several people from the Realm of Calliah in Elsthess, the realm that Mortis Grimm originated from is unknown. He seems to be the only one of his kind and there is something sinister about him. Wielding powerful magic that matches no other in recorded nature, Mortis, despite being the leader of the Resistance, is a big mystery to all of its members. Usually donning a Plague Doctor mask, Morgan is among the few to have seen his face. He is Mhorunn's greatest ally, but hardly a trusted one. Most understand that he could just as well become its greatest enemy one day.
Interested in reading more and receiving updates as they're posted? Comment on this post and tell me if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Reblogs are appreciated to spread the word! 💞
Taglist — @gwaaaaar @silveryloneliness @noxochicoztliv @justletmeon12 @averytirednerd @letsallsleepoverwork @styrofauxm @non-pressurizeddiamond @mangoinacan13 @amateurmasksmith @kenobiblue @soru-dee @pictures-of-the-stars @elf-osamu @animusicnerd @jaytherat-hometothereblog @watcherofeternalflame
#fantasy novel#aroace#ace representation#aroace representation#demisexual#indie author#webnovel#wattpad#author#writing#authorblr#writers of tumblr#writers on tumblr#indie fantasy#novel promo
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Dark Tony Stark
Tony is bored so he starts doing experiments on humans secretly. He always kidnaps people with body problems. One day he kidnaps the reader (the reader had just had an accident and lost her voice). He fixes her vocal cords. During his experiment on her he falls in love with her and wants her for himself. He keeps her in his bedroom. His experiment on her worked (not perfect but it does work. She can talk but has a very robotic voice).
The Lonely Scientist
Tony entered the hospital and walked around the room, it was quiet and everyone was practically asleep.
He walked up to your bed and read your file.
"Lost your voice, huh? No family, no friends... Perfect." He whispered looking at you sleeping peacefully.
"You poor thing... You're so young." He whispered as he ran his hand through your hair.
"I don't think anyone will miss you anyway, sweetheart."
--
Tony looked down at your pale skin as he performed surgery on you.
After all the Avengers had left Tony he went...slightly, just a little bit insane.
"If this works you'll be very thankful... And if it doesn't work, something tells me you'll be thankful to be dead anyway." He muttered to himself as he continued the surgery.
--
You began to wake up, your throat hurting, all you wanted to do was scream in pain but you couldn't.
Suddenly a loud ringing noise began and you quickly blocked your ears.
Tony rushed forward and turned off a device that was attached to your neck.
"Woah, easy there." He said as he gently ran his hand through your hair.
You tried to speak but nothing came out as you looked at him in fear, he couldn't imagine how confusing this was for you.
Not only did you have no voice but Tony Stark was in front of you.
"Don't try to speak just yet, you were in a bad accident. You didn't have anyone in the hospital, no family, no friends, no partner." He said as he continued to play with you hair.
You began to cry as he sat down beside your bed.
"I know it's hard, but that's why I took you. Watch." He said before turning the device back on.
"Now, try to talk." He said as you stared at him.
"How?" You said in a robotic voice as your eyes widened.
Tony looked at you with excitement.
"Yes! Yes, perfect!" He shouted as you stared at him in shock.
"What the hell did you do to me!?" You shouted as his smile faded.
"I fixed you!" He shouted back, standing up causing the chair to fall back and create a loud sound.
You flinched and closed your eyes.
"I am dozing everyone, and no one is ever thankful!" He screamed as you opened your eyes and looked around, you saw a hand hanging out from a sheet.
"What the hell have you been doing?" You asked, if your voice wasn't a robot it would've been laced with fear.
"They don't have families, I gave them a chance." He said as your eyes widened.
"You're killing people!" You shouted as he reached down and gripped your arm roughly.
"I am saving them!" He screamed in your face as you stared at him in fear.
He slowly let go of your shoulder before he reached up and held your face.
"You're the only one I've succeeded with. I know it seems cruel... But, I've given your voice back." He said, you could practically see the madness in his eyes.
"I want to go home." You said as he sighed.
"No... No, I don't want you to go. It's just me here, you can stay, alright? There's so many rooms and I have so much money, I can just spoil you, okay? What, you'd rather go back to your studio apartment and be all alone?" He asked as you just continued to stare at him.
"No..." You muttered in response, making him smile softly.
"Good... Good, perfect. You can stay here, you'll have everything you'll ever need." He said playing with your hair.
You weren't sure this was the best idea but...it was either live alone in a shitty apartment after having experiments done on you, or live with a rich psychopath.
Easy choice.
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why does ‘it’ give me so much gender euphoria? i’ve been reading way too much monster! reader fics.
anyways have an old fic of mine from quotev i never got to continue writing lolz have fun. next chapters will be posted on yoru-no-seiiki if ever.
LOVE MULTIPLIED : MONSTER
PROLOGUE:
THE BEAST.
IT WAS A BEING WITH NO NAME, no face, no identity in this world except the cruel things it was designated as by the people it tormented.
By all intents, constructions and purposes, the being was an enigma to humankind. An enigma of atypically molded flesh and bone ; of blood; of darkness — of the heavens and the universe.
When it awoke on this planet, it already knew its purpose.
To tear down humanity’s knowledge that edged far too close to the divine the being called its creator.
Yet, it had underestimated the tenacity of these new creations.
It had taken them centuries, sure. A number of years enough to carry half a dozen generations. But they had won against it.
It was a being with nothing but the overflowing intent to destroy humanity —
So that one day it may build it back up again to where it will stay juvenile and naïve for eternity.
“You have been captured, Alien. There’s no use to this.” A human that the others called a scientist spoke. They watched with focused eyes, and the creature was almost sure they did not stop to blink for a second.
Alien. It was one of the things humanity thought it was. If anything humanity were the true aliens to this world. How awfully ironic of them to call it that.
It only responded with a deep trill.
“It took us almost a millennium but we did it. We finally — “ The scientist choked on their words for a moment, overwhelmed with sadness, excitement, and most of all anxiety.
”We finally defeated you.”
If their enemy still being alive and capable of destroying several moons with just a thought was considered a victory for humanity. Then maybe the beast had overestimated its quarry. Still it could not deny the impressive feat that is its capture. Though it was mostly its fault for taking so long to finish the job, humanity was nonetheless impressive.
And that is exactly why humankind must be cut off where it stands.
”And… I have you here. All to myself.” The scientist muttered. Fortunately — or was it unfortunately — the forcefield did nothing to stop the sounds coming from outside. So the beast could hear their whispers , and every sound there is and could be in the universe , just as well as them shouting these words out.
It leaned forward, inches away from the forcefield that separated it from tearing the human apart. Is this the type of person that they usually call— what was it again— a creep?
Unfortunately this action only made the scientist blush. Either at the success in finally getting it to do more than growl or from being incredibly close to the murderer of billions. It did not know.
“The strongest being in this universe — and me, about to be the most knowledgeable human this world has to offer. “ The beast adjusted itself back to a ‘sitting’ position. The scientist took the action as one made in fear — how utterly ridiculous — and waved their hands, ”Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you . . . too much.”
This person was the exact epitome of why the divine creator had sent it here. Humans who venture too far into the unknown turned to fall ill with madness. Really, the creature was doing these beings a favor.
A favor paid in the souls of billions.
Though it knew that if it hadn’t gone through with its divine mission, humanity would inevitably destroyed itself. The creature only accelerated the process and gave them a villain to blame.
”I never experienced the war myself, as old as I am. While those brutes out there kept themselves busy with attempting to destroy you. I knew from the moment I first saw you towering the black skies that the true way to achieve a triumph was to keep you locked. For us to observe.” The human continued musing while they walked around the room.
At this point the monster wasn’t even listening anymore and was thinking of the infinite ways it could reshape this rather annoying scientist.
”For us to learn about.”
It growled. There was nothing to learn about it. Nothing at all. The leathery detached skin in front of its mouth fluttered as the sound emitted across the gigantic chamber.
”And who knows — for us to one day replicate.”
It attempted to reach through the forcefield, the urge to destroy to unbearable. But it is reminded of how they were exactly kept here.
The moment flesh made contact with field, it burns. The creature knew no pain before for it had only known its creator and darkness. But pain, oh how —
— distracting it was.
The scientist paid no mind to its loud roars of agony. Instead they smile as they leave the observation room.
“I’ll see the next day then, Beast of Judgement.”
ART BY MARK HILYER
©️ hana-no-seiiki - yun | 2023
#Love Multiplied 🧌#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagine#yandere oc#yandere fic#yandere x you#yandere oc x reader#yandere harem x reader#yandere original character#yandere various x reader#various yandere x reader#harem x reader#various x reader#monster! reader#monster!reader#tw yandere#yandere ocs x reader#yandere concept#yandere core#yancore#yanderecore
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I just found your steam siblings Au and I am in love with it ! Please forgive me for the many questions I have…
1. Would they sometimes use their other element unintentionally? For example, when Kai gets mad (if Jay flirts with his sister) the water pipes break
2. In Season 4 during the tournament of elements, would Chen only require one of the twins to steal both elements ?
I can imagine that the Ninja would try to keep that a secret but Skylor would figure it out while copying Kai‘s powers
3. Will the twins one day be able to use both powers at the same time ?
4. Season 5, will Nya create this big wave like she did in the final episode of that season or will Kai save everyone (or perhaps they do it together) ?
5.When Kai loses his fire, will that also lead to him losing his and Nyas water power ? And how will that arc with Aspheera affect them both
6. Will Kai be afraid of the ocean until he becomes one with the sea ? It feels like a better conclusion of his story with his fear of the sea ? Imagine he was always afraid of it because it has always called for him. He didn’t know what he was hearing or feeling but it scared him, until he under his destiny 👀 ( Am I thinking to mich about it ?!)
If you have read through them all, thanks for that ! I love your art and the au is great. Have a nice day ✌️
Oh man oh man oh man
I'm late, buuut
I like the idea, but in the show, they have to concentrate on using their powers and don't really have accidents like that(not that I remember). But in this AU, it would be funny as hell. Like neither can cook because the water evaporites, pans too hot and burn everything and so on. Only after they master their elements can they cook.
Maybe? That or he has like half of each power and needs both of them to have full fire and water, yknow. Chen would go mad scientist on them.
Well, they would be OP if they had both powers, so maybe not. The drama and steaks would be lowered, but in certain settings, they might. Or they only can use both powers at the same time together?
That whole plot in the season would be sooo different. But I like the idea they do it together as a ☆*Family Bonging*☆ moment.
Depending on if they both have the power or they have one power that zip zap between them like tennis. But I feel like they both have the powers, they can't just use it? So Nay would have fire when Aspirah takes Kais fire and the switch their roles (Kai is water ninja/Nya is fire ninja).
I loooove the idea Kai fears the ocean and then becomes the ocean. Like, it validates his fear?? Kinda?? He loses everything when he's the ocean, even if he did it to protect his Family. But he also accepts his destiny and isn't afraid of the ocean anymore? The drama. The angst. Love it. But hearing the ocean his whole life. Now that's an idea. Like fire powers are from Spijitsu mater Uno and water is from the big ass snake. And maybe that affects them! Fire and water in them in constant conflict Ugh. Love it
Thanx my fellow rat for the qustion
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I just got an idea for whump Ronance.
What if Robin and Nancy gets captured by Brenner?
Like, they end up becoming his new lab rats. Thry get tortured and abused just like El was.
What do you think?
(Also, what kind of powers do you think they would have respectively?)
Anon I am so sorry i wrote a long asf response to this and then it got deleted and I was so mad I didn't want to do it again but now I feel inspired and motivated to give it another try.
SO. Wonderful concept! I love it! Let me share my thoughts!!
So what I came up with is:
At age 15, they both get lost in the Upside Down. They only vaguely knew about the other's existance from school but when they found each other down there, they became inseparable. This is an AU in which Will never went missing. Anyway they're terrified and starving and exhausted but at least they have each other, and they hold hands almost the entire time because they both desperately need the comfort.
Eventually, they make it out on their own after finding a gate... and it's in the Hawkins Lab. They come out on the other end before the unbelieving eyes of dozens of scientists, who were convinced no one would survive a minute in there without the proper equipment. Yet these trembling, starving young girls covered in grit survived with only the clothes on their back for a week.
Brenner recognizes them immediately - Nancy and Robin, the two girls from the missing person posters circulating through town. Everyone already thinks they're dead. They made fake bodies of them, for Christ' sake, he's not letting this opportunity go, especially after the disappearance of his only remaining test subject, 011.
This will be a new experiment. A different one. They are given different numbers for ir - A01 for Nancy and A02 for Robin. They get that tattooed in their arms. The purpose of the experiment is to study the effects of short-term exposure to the Upside Down on humans of their height, s.ex, age, health status and weight. They call themselves doctors. They give them separate rooms and run a series of tests daily on them. They try to be subtle at first as to not scare them too much - they don't want another 011 - so they call them by their real names for a while. They ask questions about their lives before the Upside Down and reassure them this is meant to test radiation levels - a standard procedure, before they can return them to their parents.
They immediatelly call bullshit. Why can't they talk to their parents now? Why can't they see them through a glass, at least, or a camera, if radiation is what they're worried about? Why won't they tell them what that place was or why it led back to the Lab? Do their families know they're safe? What is going on? They ask so many questions about every procedure ran on them, resisting in more and more extreme ways until the scientists need to tie them down and drug them whenever they want to do anything.
Brenner notices similar brain activity in them to that of his old test subjects, and he suspects the Upside Down might have given them some kind of ability. He keeps them in the rainbow room, hoping each other's company will help them develop their powers, yet for a long time nothing comes. They can't move objects with their mind, or astral project, or open gates. Even despite everything they do to them. Despite every horrible procedure they perform on them. Drugs of all kinds, leaving them delirious and weak for days. Electrocompulsive therapy. Hypnosis. Pain tests. Sensory deprivation. Solitary confinement. Brenner wants to activate their powers in one way or another, desperate after losing subject 011.
(It's terrifying each time. Nancy is invaded by pure rage while Robin is paralyzed by fear. Whenever they take one for a procedure, the other waits impatiently for her return, fully concious of what they're doing to her - or so it seems. Nancy, at least, thinks she knows what they're doing to Robin. She thinks they do the same things they do to her - tie her to a chair, put an IV in her, maybe, or stick a needle into her neck. Brenner will do this while casually telling her she'll only feel a small pinch, before doing such a monstruosity to her that she'll be woken up by seizures at night. It takes Robin some time to tell Nancy the truth).
They seem completely useless for a long time, but that changes the moment they capture a russian agent.
He was a scientist, working from an unknown location beneath Hawkins, trying to get intel from the Lab when he was caught and tortured to extract information from him. Robin wasn't usually allowed to wander the halls alone, but someone left the door unlocked and she was curious, and soon she found herself in front of a closed door, hearing panting and ragged breathing after this man received the beating of his life. He was talking to himself - curses and meanderings about death and whether or not he'd see his family again. Robin, despite having never learned Russian, understood everything, and in a perfect accent she began to talk to him. She didn't know why - she didn't even realize they weren't speaking English. For a moment he thought he was being rescued, and he shared with her a lot of information.
Brenner caught her in the act and severaly punished her. Solitary confinement for one week. She would only see other people when they ran tests on her, and even then they wouldn't speak to her at all. He ended up not living up to his threat when, not two days after the event, he noticed her brain activity going wild. He has fascinated, and he asked her what had happened, if that russian spy gave her something like a drug. "Russian?" she asks, only then understanding what had happened.
They believe her powers are related to xenoglossy, the supernatural ability to know a language without having ever learned it. Something extremely useful in that specific historical context. She'd be an incredible spy, and oh, Brenner can't wait to experiment with this. They kill the spy after she tells them everything he told her.
They begin to give her a special treatment over Nancy - not exactly for the better. Brenner wants to understand this new ability, developed not in the womb like in other subjects but when subject A02 is a teenager, possibly caused by exposure to Upside Down radiation, though that's not confirmed. Maybe it had more to do with their experiments. He thinks he hit a dead end when it's revealed Robin already knew intermediate-to-advanced French, Spanish and Italian from before being captured - she'd be just a regular poltglot in that case, a prodigious one, right, but with nothing of interest for Brenner. But he quickly realizes this is not the case. Robin didn't know a word of Russian before, and he develops a hipothesis he'll spend the following year testing. He tries her ability with different languages, escaling on rarity, complexity and distance from English. From reading a single short text, Robin becomes profient in Finnish - a non-indoeuropean language Brenner doubts she's ever had any contact with. Proficient, but not fluent. It seems like she can very easily extract a language's grammar from a short sample text, applying it to terms she's familiar with, but she can't magically "guess" vocabulary of grammatical rules not present in the material she was given. For example, by reading a text in which all 15-16 grammatical cases of Finnish are present, she will be able to apply them to any noun in nominative case she knows, but she can't do it with nouns she doesn't know, and she can't use grammatical cases not present in the sample text given to her. She also can't guess spelling or pronunciation without both text and audio samples, and she can't speak in accents she hasn't heard (though she can easily switch accents in a way native speakers of the language can't, a skill that is curiously not translated (lol) into her native English). She learns faster with audio than with text, but even faster with a real-time conversation. Brenner brings a colleague who is fluent in Japanese to test her and he's amazed by how quick her progress is. His hipothesis, seemingly now proven, was that hers was an entirely mental skill, not a supernatural one, since she doesn't magically have access to languages she never had any contact with. This would make her ability not real xenoglossy.
A few more fun facts about her "power":
Her pre-existing skill with Spanish, French and Italian didn't improve until she was exposed to these languages again after being captured. She becomes incredibly skilled at solving puzzles and cracking codes. Brenner believes her power developed thanks to her intensive studies in languages through her childhood. Her brain activity is similar to that of non-native speakers of a language during the few first minutes of having contact with a new language, but in less than an hour, it will be the same as with native speakers. She's confused by some reconstructed languages, but not others (Proto-Indoeuropean was easy for her to learn, Proto-Uralic took her some time before learning more finno-ugric languages than just Finnish. If this were happening in the 2000s, when the Dené-Caucasian theory was already formalized, then Proto-Dené-Caucasian would have sounded like absolute gibberish to her).Some of Brenner's colleages hipothesize that her knowledge of living languages help inform her of the grammar and syntax of proto-languages in an extremely accurate way, to the point she subconciously knows when a reconstruction is wrong. This would make her an amazing paleolinguist. Brenner is less interested in the reconstruction of ancient turkic languages in Siberia and more interested her use as a spy and code-breaker - though it wouldn't have hurt him to take a second look at the idea of turkic languages, because that Russian agent, he was from a region of Russia called Tartary, and he spoke another language aside from Russian, the Tartar language, though he never got to speak it in Robin's presence. Brenner and his colleagues, not familiar with the vast diversity of languages on Earth, spend a long time working with an incorrect hypothesis because they couldn't notice Robin speaking Tartar to herself as a distinct language from all the others they were teaching her. A year and a a half passes before someone spent enough time listening to her to notice the difference. It's a discovery that shatters completely Brenner's first hypothesis on the absence of a supernatural element in Robin's ablity, and he's once again fascinated when he discovers it. His new hypothesis: Robin's power grants her access to a person's mind through speaking to them in a strange, confusing way, and he can't wait to destroy her, pick her brain apart and figure out how it works even if he kills her in the process.
In fact, he does. Literally. He does it over and over and over again, and Nancy has to watch it happen time and time again.
Because here's the thing: Robin wasn't the only one to develop powers, and in fact, she wasn't even the first one.
If you've heard of the videogame Life is Strange, anon, then you'll understand Nancy's power here: she can rewind time. Her power is pretty much the same as Max's in LiS - she can rewind time up to a certain point, though it causes a great mental strain, and eventually, she will discover she can time travel to specific points in time through photographs she's present in, as her younger self.
She discovers her powers the first time Robin is killed.
Misbehavior got her punished - solitary confinement after a long testing session. She had an overdose in her cell, and no one noticed in time. Nancy barely remembers what happened then, other than the horror she felt, before the events of the day flashed backwards before her eyes and she was brought back to Robin - warm, alive, breathing - in the rainbow room.
She begged her to do as they said, to behave, to not fight back. Robin is confused but Nancy is in tears and she agrees to do as she says.
This time, when she has an overdose, they treat her on time. She was in a comma for a week, but soon she was back on her feet and back in Nancy's arms.
It keeps happening - over and over again. The time she swallowed her own tongue during a seizure because Nancy didn't hold her right, and she had to try over four times (and watch her choke and die four times) before she got it right. The time she didn't die - but she lost her ability to speak after hours of electroculpulsive therapy, and she had her fake an illness so they would submit her to less aggressive procedures. It happened again when, after a similar trial, she forgot her own parents and thought the scientists were her parents. But she mostly just died. Over, and over, and over again. Mostly from overdose or brain damage during seizures, but one time, she was purposely asphixiated during a test. To this point Nancy still isn't sure what was it that they wanted to test with that. She suspects it was just torture for the sake of torture. To break her, somehow.
Nancy is terrified of long-term effects of all of this on Robin's health. She's scared the damage will cross the point of no return too early, to a point she can't go back to, a point in which she can't stop it. She can hold Robin's head during a seizure but she can't stop the seizures, and the lasting damage they leave.
Robin is aware of Nancy's powers. Nancy didn't even have to prove them to her - she believed her immediately whe she told her, and she trusts her judgment completely. If Nancy tells her it's better to do X, you can bet Robin will be doing X. Robin doesn't tell Nancy about her newfound ability immediately - she doesn't want her to worry about something she can do nothing about. But she does share it with her, after some time. She felt the need to explain to Nancy why the sudden interest on her. Nancy worries about her Robin so much, so so much, because she's just become Brenner's favorite new toy, and he'll do anything and everything to exploit her. She's in much more danger than Nancy is, and Nancy wishes she could take her place, make herself into Brenner's toy, draw attention away from Robin, but they both know the best they can do for their safety is to keep Nancy's invisible power secret. Nancy hates herself for not being able to take Robin's pain for her.
They escape one day. It's a complicated plan including short-distance time travel, manipulating russian spies through a stolen radio, several forms of treason and going out the same way they came in - through the portal. Nancy does her best to keep them safe with her power as they search for the other gate, the one they first crossed three years ago. And then, they're out. They're found unconcious on the side of the road.
They wake up a few days later in the hospital, surrounded by their families. Nancy's brother, Mike, has a new friend - a quiet girl with long brown hair and a 011 tattoed on her wrist, and she knows she needs to speak to her desperately, but she's exhausted, so for the time being, she'll sleep for some time, feeling almost at peace now, knowing Robin is safe and in the good hands of doctors.
#ronance#whump#tw torture#tw drugs#tw electrocution#uuuh that's it i guess#this took me forever to write but i'm satisfied!
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Can I ask Entrapta and Hordak for the character ask meme?
First impression: with Entrapta, she caught my eye even before the show premiered, when I saw the promo art. I fell in love with her design right away, though i didn't care much for her character at first, just didn't get the hype. It is only after she showed her vulnerable side, when she thought her friends abandoned her (but we knew it was not true!), thats when I got invested. Tuned in for the drama, stayed for the purble mad scientist
Same with Hordak. Didn't care for the character, loved the design. And I loved it specifically because he looked similar to the demon characters from my original story I was working on with a friend at the time. The long pointy ears, the nose, the glowing eyes, the clawed hands and sharp teeth, they also have wings just like Imp!
Oh and I always loved his relationship with Imp, it was so fun to watch these two interact :3
Impression now: to me personally Entrapta and Hordak are the real heart of the show. They are both integral to the story, they're interesting and fun in their own ways and their relationship is simply the best thing the show has to offer. Plus their personal journeys are so exquisitly tragic, love me some good angst
They're both my lil scrunklies, my beloved chew toys, one of my fave evil power couples. Though I gravitate more towards Hordak, he got that melancholic sad doe eyes rizz. And older brother issues (hes just like me fr🤝)
Favorite moment: oof but there are so many. 'Imperfection is beautiful' and 'I am Hordak' are obviously in my top 5, but I also want to mention some other ones
From entrapdak scenes - the one where they chat while sitting on Hordak's throne, the one where Hordak protects Entrapta from the portal explosion and the iconic "What have you done to me?" scene
As for their personal moments, I still giggle at Entrapta's "Do I need to explain math to you?🤨", also I can't get over her soft hum and lil smile when she remembers her lab partner in the portal reality
And with Hordak, again, love all the scenes where he's so casually adorable with Imp, also s4 moments when he's being obsessed with Entrapta (can't deside between the blushing scene and the 'crying over her' scene)
Idea for a story: For Entrapta I've been thinking about an au where she gets consumed by the Island before her friends find her, turning into this scary powerful monster who still has some of her free will. And she either escapes the island herself, becoming a threat to both the Horde and the rebellion (but eventually she and Hordak save each other with the power of love~), or she stays on BI and has this emotional fight with Adora and Bow where she gets to voice all her fears and grievances, but in the end gets defeated and comforted
For Hordak I have this idea about him meeting another clone with the same defect as him. Maybe he was just fresh out of a pod, and his condition only took a toll on him after the fall of Prime. I imagine Hordak being so gentle and protective of him, giving him all the love and understanding + recourses he was deprived of. I also imagine him finally not feeling so alinated when he's around his own kind, like a black sheep among his "perfect" able bodied brothers, because now he knows he's not the only one
Unpopular opinion: Entrapta's trauma should've been treated more seriously and not forgotten right after the Beast Island episode. S5 felt like s4 events were erased from everyone's memory. Also, it should've affected Entrapta more. Again, where are the conflicted feelings towards Hordak? It was never established that she found out the truth about her exile, that Hordak was lied to and had no idea about it. And where are the conflicted feelings towards Catra? The more I think about it, the more I hate that dumb apology and the fact that it was enough for Entrapta to forgive her, after everything Catra did to her and her loved ones
With Hordak... those are not quite common, but it is still tiring to see some fandom opinions where ppl critique this version of Hordak by calling him a loser and a lame villain/character, because he's not "badass" and "threatening" enough and is bad at his job as the leader of the Horde. Cause like... that's the point. Hordak was bad at this because he was not suited for this role, he is not a leader and thats not bad/contradicting writing, thats just his character trait. He was only trying to mimic the only role model he ever had in his life, trying to fit into Prime's shoes and obviously failing at it, because he's not Prime. He was also programmed to be an obedient slave with no wants or ambitions, not a dominant power hungry ruler, and I can only imagine what it took him to become as powerful and threatening as he is in the show. He did not belong on that throne, not because he's incompetent/useless or stupid or a bad warlord, but because choosing to become Lord Hordak, choosing to go all this way to try and prove himself worthy to his uncaring god was,on itself, his biggest mistake, not the right path for him. The Etherian Horde is like that because it's existence was a mistake
Favorite relationship: romantic? with each other. Platonic? Also with each other, but also -
For Entrapta - her friendship with Adora and Wrongie (also Scorpia, but only pre s5 Scorpia, like girl what happened...)
For Hordak - his bond with Imp and his relationship with Horde Prime (i just love how tragic and messed up it is okay?)
Favorite headcanon: idk if a have a favorite, there are all sorts of hcs, so i'll just focus on a random one I like
I do find the idea of Hordak being creeped out and lowkey haunted by Entrapta's cat painting hilarious, but I also like to think that the cat was her real pet, maybe a childhood pet even, and by keeping the painting she honors the memory of her old friend
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Whumptober Day 30: Lab Rat + Examination
Continuation of Day 11
Read it on Ao3
- Legend & Hyrule
- Summary: Legend finds himself in the clutches of a mad scientist
CW for torture, experimentation, dehumanization, blood and injury, captivity, mentions of death, and a character briefly wishing for death
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Someone is talking.
Legend registers their voice dimly, through a fog he can’t make heads or tails of. It drags heavily at him when he tries to surface, oppressive and thick. Memories drift past – sensations of pain, feelings of fear.
There is danger here, they murmur.
What danger? He asks. But they flit away like fleeting phantoms, leaving his question unanswered.
And so he falls again, drifting on darkness as though it is the waves of the sea, awaiting the moment when everything will come once more into dizzying, blinding focus.
When it does, he almost wishes it hadn’t.
He awakens to the assault of bright lights. They glare down on him from above, glinting off the metal of the table he is strapped to. The rough fabric of the restraints grates at his exposed skin. Something hard and metallic encases his neck, uncomfortably tight when he swallows.
His eyes widen. The memories come rushing back, now, in a torrent of terror and discomfort.
Falling from a portal. Trying and failing to save Hyrule. The men on the boat, inspecting him, touching him, hands and breath hot and clammy. His promise…
“Ah, wonderful. You’re awake at last.”
Legend jolts at the voice and tries to sit up. But the restraints hold fast and he ends up only getting a glimpse of a familiar gray-haired man before collapsing back down. His head swims and he blinks a few times, trying to clear it.
“Oh, great,” he says, drily, voice cracking painfully. “It’s you.”
The man chuckles, the sound almost warm. “Indeed. We’re about to get started on something that could be monumental.”
There is a clattering of metallic objects near his head. Legend swallows hard.
“I do hope you are as excited as I am.”
“Oh, yeah I’m real excited. Can’t wait to get poked and prodded by some sadistic creep,” Legend retorts. Panic is rising fast within him, despite his attempts to suppress it.
“Oh come. Don’t be too quick to judge.” The man moves slightly into his line of sight again, something that looks disturbingly like a knife in his hand. “You are contributing to my research. And that’s a worthwhile thing, I assure you. The information I glean from you can be used for years to come.”
Glean. Legend feels bile rise in his throat at the word. For some unpleasant reason, it brings to mind gutted fish, fit for dissection; dead bugs with their bodies pinned.
“Now, tell me” —The man is facing him now, eagerness in his eyes. Legend fights not to squirm beneath his gaze — “what makes you transform? Is it a curse? A spell? Can you control it?”
Legend glares at him. “If you think I’m just gonna explain everything to you you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.”
“It will help this all go faster if you do.”
Yes, Legend realizes, he is definitely holding a knife. It glints in that cursed painful light. Slowly, he lowers it toward Legend’s legs.
“It will bring us to the important part of this examination. And most importantly it will ensure that your friend keeps his life.”
Legend jolts upward at that, fighting against the straps that pin him down.
“What do you mean?” There is an edge of harsh panic in his voice and all his strength isn’t enough to hide it. “What do you mean it'll keep my friend alive?! You said he would be safe if I came with you! You said you’d leave him on the shore! I saw you do it! I saw—”
He breaks off with a choked gasp. He is shaking, from cold, from adrenaline, from the fear coursing through him in waves. Then, a door he hadn’t seen before slides open and Hyrule stumbles through, bound and gagged and blindfolded, arm held tightly in the clutches of one of the men from the boat. And he is certain he is going to break right then and there.
“Rulie,” he breathes and Hyrule lifts his head.
He gives a muffled cry, struggling to try and break free. But his captor wrenches him back with a growl.
“You saw correctly,” the man says, with a calm that belies everything Legend feels. “I kept my promise to you. I left your friend on the shore as you requested. But somehow, he escaped his bonds and found us here. He brought this upon himself. Though, it never hurts to have a bit more leverage.”
The air feels tighter than ever now. Legend struggles to draw a full breath.
Hyrule, you idiot. Why’d you come here?
He sags back against the table, wincing at the bite of cold metal against his skin. If he wasn’t cornered between a rock and a hard place before, he certainly is now.
“What causes you to turn?” The man asks, leaning forward. Still, he holds the knife, situating it so close it almost presses into Legend’s knee. Legend doesn’t doubt that as soon as he transforms, it will plunge into his tail, searching out the gory mysteries of it. “Tell me or your friend will pay.”
His voice still embodies the calm of someone who has this entire situation perfectly controlled. And hell, maybe he does. It certainly seems that way.
Legend hates it.
He swallows. His mouth is terribly dry, panic situated in a hard, little ball in his gut. But he forces the words out anyway.
“It’s a curse. I thought it was just a magically-infused tool at first. But after I used it a few times, it became a part of me.”
His gaze flits from the man’s face to Hyrule, standing rigid, still in his captor’s grip. He is obviously listening — Legend doesn’t know how he wouldn’t be. Of all the ways he had wanted him to find out about his ability, this definitely isn’t one of them.
I’m so sorry, traveler.
“You cannot control it, then?”
“No.”
The man’s eyes are alight with that hunger again, the one that sends shivers crawling up Legend’s spine and makes him feel ill.
“Perhaps, we can do something about that.”
He motions to someone behind Legend. Footsteps sound and then the next thing the veteran knows, water is pouring down on him from above. He gasps at the icy chill of it, fingernails digging into his palms. It pools on the table, held there by its raised edges. And in response to its touch, Legend’s body begins to transform.
It is sheer agony.
Usually, the transformation is at least a little painful. His body is morphing, after all, fitting into a form it was not created to take the shape of. But this, this is like nothing he has ever known. It is like the magic within him is a trickle that wants to be a stream, a wave held back by a steadfast barrier.
The collar. It must be suppressing my magic.
He grits his teeth, seeing white. He wishes he could stop it, this onward march of the curse, but he is helpless. All he can do as his legs seal together and gills and fins grow upon him is try not to scream.
Even that is a losing battle.
It comes out as his tail forms – a strangled, almost inhuman sound. It fills his ears, mingling with the pounding of his head and the sounds of Hyrule fighting to get free. And it only tapers off when breathing becomes immensely difficult.
Though there is enough water to activate the curse, it is not nearly enough for proper airflow. And the collar around his neck covers his gills, restricting it further. Suddenly, Legend is suffocating.
His eyes blow wide and he struggles, gasping vainly for breath.
“Fascinating. Your biology becomes that of a mer.”
The man comes into view, leaning over him. Roughly, he turns his head this way and that, inspecting him.
“Please,” Legend croaks, desperately, “can’t–I can’t…”
“Ah, yes of course. Can’t have you dying, can we?”
More water cascades down upon him. Hands grip the collar, loosening it slightly. Legend goes boneless, dragging in large breaths that make him dizzy.
It’s a bitter mercy, but one nonetheless. At this point, he’ll take what he can get.
“Now, to do something about the uncontrollable nature of this curse.”
Someone is touching his tail now, but Legend doesn’t have the strength to lift his head and see who it is.
“All things can be brought into submission, you see, with a bit of effort. But first, I must study the makeup of this new body. The changes cannot be fully ascertained from the outside.”
Danger, his mind shouts again. Get out before it finds you.
Still, Legend cannot make sense of it. After the onslaught of pain and near-suffocation, everything feels sluggish and distant. He just wants to sleep.
But then, Hyrule screams something that sounds awfully like the word “no,” and his tail explodes with pain. The exhaustion flees, replaced by crippling, terrifying agony. Someone is slicing him open, he realizes as he thrashes, choking on blood. They’re cutting into his tail with all the careful precision of a scientist…and without the merciful use of a sedative. Or death.
Aren’t things that are dissected usually dead?
The thought isn’t comforting. Nor is it enough to distract him from the endless pain. He is buffeted by it, suffocated. Everything is on fire, everything too harsh, too bright. Wordlessly, he begs for the sweet release of oblivion. But it doesn’t come. Instead, blurry forms surround him, holding him down as he continues to fight back, tightening his bonds, digging their nails into his skin.
“Remain still,” comes the man’s voice. “If you’re not careful you will cause me to cut something vital.”
He is moving things around now, from the feel of it. Inspecting his insides, Legend guesses. He doesn’t know for certain. He doesn’t care to. He just wants it all to stop.
“Please,” he tries to beg, “please stop this.”
But blood gurgles in his throat and he chokes on it, every cough sending sharp aches splintering through him.
“Stay still, brat.”
A sharp slap stings the side of his face. Tears burn hot in Legend’s eyes. His head snaps sideways and he can see him now – Hyrule – fighting desperately against his captor’s restraining grip. The blindfold has fallen as a result of his efforts and his eyes meet Legend’s, large and filled with fury and terror.
He yells something incoherent – perhaps a protest, perhaps a promise. Legend can’t tell. All he knows is that his heart is splitting open along with the rest of his body, the ache of it unbearable. Hyrule shouldn't have to see this. He was never even supposed to be here.
I failed.
A hiccupped sob tears out of him. Legend shuts his eyes. He is so weak, so helpless.
Curse this stupid power, curse the people who seek to exploit it, curse the shadowy monster who sent them hurtling through that portal…curse himself for being so foolish.
He would tear this place apart if he could. He tries, tries to call his magic to his fingertips. Pain is the only thing he gets, pain and the sound of someone yelling at him, chastising him.
It only adds to everything else. The man comments on how fascinating this form is. Hyrule cries out. Legend screams and screams until his throat is so ruined and hoarse he can’t anymore.
And then, abruptly, there is no sound at all. Finally, darkness swoops up and swallows him.
--------------------------
Everything is a blur after that. A blur of pain and fear, a nauseating rush of color and sound and sensation. Nothing changes and yet everything does.
Sometimes he is lying on the table, strapped down and held down and thrashing like a wild animal caught in a cage. Others, he floats in what he thinks is a kind of fish tank, cramped and aching, watching rivulets of crimson dance and twirl on blue waters.
The collar cuts and chokes him. His gills ache from struggling against it. His fins are cut, his scales picked at, some peeled off for examination. His tail hardly even feels like a functional extension of him anymore. It is nothing more than a limp, useless thing made of muscles and nerves, crippled by pain, torn apart by the hungry hands of some mad scientist. He doesn’t even want to know what his legs look like. Not that he could tell anyway. He hasn’t transformed back into a Hylian since the curse took ahold of him here.
They have no use for a Hylian. But apparently, they have every use for a mer.
Legend doesn’t even remember what they wanted with him, or why he is here. He only knows two things now and they are all he really needs to. One, that he can’t escape, no matter how badly he wants to. And two, that being here, enduring all of this, somehow, inexplicably keeps Hyrule alive.
Even if the traveler’s eyes are bright with pain and tears every time Legend finds them, even if he bears marks from resisting his captors, he is alive. That is all Legend can hope for. He doesn’t have the strength to move beyond that.
So, he hangs on for Rulie’s sake. He hangs on even as he loses everything. Because he can’t lose his brother. He would rather be ripped to shreds and discarded, poked and prodded into oblivion, than watch him die.
The man has made it quite clear that that is the only alternative. The few times Legend had resisted after the first, he had described the methods in which he would murder Hyrule in intricate, excruciating detail.
“I will make it painful,” he had said, with that same infuriating calm that made Legend want to rip his head off. “Much more painful than what you’re enduring. And I will make it slow. He will be begging for death by the time I finish.”
Legend had given him a glare that could make Ganondorf quiver. But he hadn’t fought any more after that.
No. His fight is all internal now, a battle to hang on to the shreds of life he still has. He is stubborn to a fault, that’s for certain. But sometimes he wishes he wasn’t. Sometimes he wishes he would simply allow himself to fade away.
In the end, though, he is glad that he doesn’t.
There is nothing to herald an unexpected rescue. Nothing at all. He has been dunked in the tank today, barely holding on to consciousness, drifting in a sea of pain. Hylia only knows how much blood he has lost, or if he is trapped in this form forever, or if his tail will ever work again, his wounds ever heal. It hurts so badly. But he has no tears left to cry.
When a flash of familiar blue streaks through the room, however, he nearly sobs anyway.
The one thing these monsters haven’t tried is making him believe in a false reality. But the sounds of his captors hitting the ground, the sight of Warriors’ face next to the glass, his hand pressed to it as he asks him questions Legend lacks the energy to understand…it all seems like a dream.
Then, someone is lifting him from the water, gently, carefully, and voices are swelling around him. The voices of his brothers. He curls into the arms that embrace him. A vibrant blue scarf is draped over his shoulders and he grasps it, fingers fisting in the soft fabric.
He must have changed back not long after leaving the water, body undoubtedly eager to revert to its natural state. Because for the first time in what feels like an eternity, he can feel air filtering in through his nostrils.
Legend sinks further into Warriors’ embrace, nestling into his scarf. Everything aches and his skin feels raw, almost stretched. But he is safe, secure in the arms of the people he loves. And they will take care of him. They always do.
Sure enough, their voices begin to become clearer, all familiar, all reassuring.
“I’ve got you, vet.”
“You’re safe now. We won’t let those creeps touch you again.”
“We need to get this collar off him…”
“We will. Let’s get these wounds taken care of first.”
“We’re gonna take care of you, Ledge. Just you wait. Hyrule’s spell will work. It always does.”
Hyrule…
Legend drags open his eyes, peeking out from his cocoon of warmth.
“R-rule…where…”
“I’m right here, Ledge. Don’t worry.”
Hazel eyes meet his own. A calloused hand cups his cheek. There is so much guilt in Hyrule’s expression, so much pain that Legend’s heart aches from it.
It’s not your fault. None of it is, he wants to say, but all that comes out is a groan as magic begins to flow into his body. It is equal parts pain and relief. His eyes flutter closed again as it seeks his wounds, mending them little by little.
“I’ll heal everything I can,” Hyrule continues. “You’ll have scars and…and I can’t promise your mer form will be the same it used to be. But…I’ll do my best.”
Legend hums, only distantly aware of the sound rumbling in his throat. Hyule’s magic grows stronger, more determined, rushing like waves through him, and he loses himself in it. It wraps around him, envelops him in warmth and safety and a fire that is all Rulie’s own. He is safe in it, wounds soothed, agony growing dimmer.
Then, abruptly, it stops.
Legend gasps at the suddenness of its retraction, eyes shooting open, panic lighting up within him.
“What…”
He doesn’t have to find the strength to finish the question. He can see him through the forms of his brothers situated protectively around him – the man who had torn him apart. He stands a short distance away, eyes snapping with anger, a strange, little device in his hands.
Legend has a nagging feeling that he has seen it before, somewhere in those memories that are little more than a horrifying haze of agony. But he can’t recall what it is used for…or if he has ever even seen it in action. If it caused him pain, it was likely lumped in with everything else. Too much pain, he has learned, quickly becomes one, single, incomprehensible blur.
“Give him back!” he demands, sounding angrier and more fearful than Legend has ever heard before. “Give my research back or I'll use this!”
“He is not your research and we will not return him to you,” Time growls, his voice a thunderclap. “Stand back or we will make you.”
He levels his claymore at him, but the man doesn’t budge.
“You haven’t been able to get that collar off yet, have you? Well, with just one push of a button” – He holds up the device, fingering one of the many, small buttons upon it – “it will cut off his magic completely. I don’t know if you know this, given that you are not experts like myself, but he is so intricately linked with his magic now that he needs it to survive. It can be twisted and turned if one can find out how. But it cannot be ripped from him, or torn away.”
Legend’s grip of Warriors’ scarf tightens. He exhales a shuddering breath.
He doesn’t doubt what the man says. To be deprived of his magic…well, he doesn’t even know what that feels like. He doesn’t want to know.
“You won’t kill him,” the captain says, eerily calm. “You need him. You can’t work with someone who is already dead.”
“I can make do,” the man replies. “A dead subject is better than none at all.”
He lifts the device a little higher, finger almost pressing the button. “Now, give him to me or I’ll do it.”
Legend tenses. But then he feels Warriors hand, traveling upward as though to cup his head. His fingers swiftly change direction, playing along the collar instead, searching out a way to remove it. After a moment, they catch on a small latch. He pulls and with a streak of relief, Legend feels the collar loosen.
Hyrule glances back at him from where he had risen, a human barrier between Legend and the scientist. Something unspoken passes between them and suddenly, Hyrule’s fingertips crackle with energy.
Time steps forward. “We would never give our brother to a monster.”
The man scowls. “So be it.”
He presses the button. Warriors pushes down on the latch, hard, and the collar slips from Legend’s neck. It clatters to the ground, reverberating with an unsettling energy. Wind kicks it away.
At the same time, Hyrule leaps forward, arm outstretched. Magic courses through him, hitting the man with such force he flies back and into the wall. He collides with it with a sharp crack and slides down, limp and almost lifeless.
“Well done, traveler,” Time says, already stalking toward the figure. “I’ll make sure he is secured.”
“Then we can get out of this place,” Wild says. “I’ll bet our vet is more than ready to get back to camp.”
Legend nods, choking out the breath he hadn’t even realized he had been holding. He curls into Warriors, trembling slightly, and the captain tightens his grip on him in return.
“They’re all gone,” he assures him, softly. He cards a hand through his hair and Legend shudders, slightly, eyes going half-lidded. It has been so long since he was touched in this way, since the hands that held him were gentle and trustworthy and kind rather than rough, vengeful, and agonizing.
“That scientist was the last one.”
Thank the gods.
Hyrule kneels before him again, fire in his gaze, emerald magic glowing in the palms of his hands.
“We’ll be out of here soon, vet. But for now, let me heal you properly. It’s the least I can do.”
The magic comes again like the wind on a warm, summer day. Legend closes his eyes and lets it envelop him.
#whumptober 2023#no.30#lab rat#examination#linkeduniverse#fic#torture tw#blood tw#injury tw#experimentation tw#dehumanisation tw#mentions of death#captivity tw#trin writes#lu legend#lu hyrule#lu chain#wheeee this one's a doozy#big and whumpy XD#poor legend#i really put him through it this month
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A Stitch In Time First Read Reactions & Thoughts Monster Post Part 1
Basically exactly what it says on the tin! I kept making notes while I was reading and somehow it grew into this sprawling monstrosity that had to be split into three parts haha. In short: I loved this book, 10/10 incredibly gay and full of yearning Garak is there the whole time would recommend.
Quotes from the book in normal text, my reflections, reactions and self-indulgent bits in italics :) Please, please only click on that read-more if you're ready for some truly long-winded nonsense, I fear I have gone and been extremely myself about this and I can only beg your forbearance for it while I get it out of my system lol
Part 2, Part 3
- My dear Doctor:
Forgive my delay in responding to your kind communications. I wanted to give this modest chronicle I’ve enclosed a modicum of organization and update it before I sent it on to you. Thank you for your concern. I have thought of you often since our last meeting, and I am pleased to hear that your life on Deep Space 9 remains challenging and productive. Considering all the changes that have taken place I would have expected nothing less. And I’m certainly not surprised that your research proposals have been accepted. You’re a brilliant young scientist—even if you are genetically enhanced. As for my life here …
This is such a deceptively innocuous and normal-sounding beginning to what is about to be an extremely unnormal and unhinged thing to send a friend as a letter. He made it all of one paragraph of keeping it chill and I honestly think that’s pretty impressive all things considered. Thankfully Julian Bashir — who, let’s not forget, gave Jadzia his fucking diaries to read after much shorter acquaintanceship than what what we’re operating on here — is possibly the one person in the galaxy with the unhinged energy to take it.
(‘I have thought of you often’ he says. And how., as we shall see)
- Yes—I’m afraid you weren’t expecting this response to your kind inquiry; it goes a bit further than “Greetings from Cardassia—Wish you were here.”
Fhksjdfhasdkj well. In spirit that is exactly what you’re saying tho garak fhdskjaas. It’s just that you’re also pathologically incapable of shutting the hell up and for this I love and treasure you.
- So why Captain Sisko is so upset with me because I accomplished the goal (which he established!) of getting Romulus into the war against the Dominion baffles me. And it’s not because of the few lives that were sacrificed. Federation expansion has taken a toll in countless life-forms—about most of which they are blissfully unaware. The moment you step into a garden and begin to cultivate and prune, you become a killer. Perhaps the captain was upset because he had hesitated to do what was necessary to insure the integrity of his garden. Sentimentality is another trait that makes humans dangerous.
*Garak voice* Julian please tell me why your boss is so mad at me I literally solved all his problems for him. for which he’s wELCOME btw
Eyes open for recurring metaphors about gardeners, Tolan is haunting this narrative and it’s only polite to say hello whenever he shows up
- Indulge me, if you will; I need you as a witness.
Can I just say how fucking wild it is in terms of character development for Garak to openly admit he needs someone interpersonally. Incredibly fucked up that he writes both parts of this directly to Julian, though — both the part where he’s pretty sure he’s going to die trying to free Cardassia from the Dominion, and the ‘now’ timeline on post-war Cardassia where he seems to be dazedly coming to the realization that he might live, actually, and what that means to him.
- As a child I would go to the Tarlak Sector with Father, and while he supervised his crews I’d play by myself amid the black-and-white angularity of the monuments, imagining myself a great gul or legate giving the funeral oration for a fallen comrade.
Already we are starting to spot the thread, if you’ll excuse the expression, of why Garak might be Like That
I also came to admire Damar’s idealism, which led him to renounce his allegiance to the Dominion. If he had one weakness it was his propensity for long-winded speeches. But given the fact that none of us are perfect, the man would have made a fine leader.
As I stood at the memorial service, I thought about all the grand affairs I had witnessed here when I was a boy. None of our famed heroes and statesmen has ever had such a humble service—and none of them, from Tret Akleen on, deserved more than Corat Damar.
You are a species of long-winded speakers and Pythas Lok
- Dr. Parmak, the unit leader, worked furiously to stabilize the little girl, and when she was evacuated by the transport unit he broke down. He’s a very good man, this Dr. Parmak; he reminds me of an older version of you, Doctor.
Introducing Dr. Kelas Parmak, last seen in the then-noodle incident mentioned in The Die is Cast. Quite possibly the chillest person who has ever lived, considering he gets over the whole thing where Garak like tortured him pretty fast. (To be fair Garak DID say he was sorry. Between this case and Odo’s, that apparently goes a surprisingly long way lol)
- But Garak, you’ll say, there’s no excuse for killing a defenseless woman. And there isn’t… unless you’ve been brought up in our system.
I love that he keeps a little Julian around in his head to talk to at all times. That’s one of the most freakishly intimate things in this whole book of freakish intimacy. Garak has a little Tain on one shoulder and a little Julian on the other shoulder and they have heated debates as to the validity of murder as a solution to any given problem that’s put before him
- I also thought about this Cardassian sense of duty and how it is largely responsible for bringing those of us who are left to these current circumstances. I asked Dr. Parmak how an entire people can come under the sway of this duty and blindly give allegiance to a state that goes mad and murders its own children.
“Poisonous pedagogy, Elim,” he replied. “We believe what we are taught.”
Poison/Disease contagion is a metaphor that will wind through this whole thing,and different people mean different things by it. Parmak means it about The Facism, which is the right one. You’ll be unsurprised to hear that Dukat Sr. has a rather different spin on it, and that he’s wrong!
- But Tain at home was anything but mysterious. It was not unusual for Uncle Enabran to appear and take me away on some excursion that involved a long walk through a section of the city. During these walks he’d test my awareness, and challenge me to describe a house or a person we’d just passed. If I hadn’t been paying attention and couldn’t remember the details, the walk was over and we’d silently return home under the oppressive weight of his disapproval. He also seemed to know how I was performing at school, and if he wasn’t satisfied with my progress or behavior he’d punish me. I was a hard worker but I had a mischievous streak, and I enjoyed getting others involved in questionable activities and arranging it so they were found out and took the blame. On those rare occasions when I was caught, Tain would somehow find out and punish me—not for my misdeed, but for having been caught. And after he discovered my fear of small, dark spaces, his favorite punishment became keeping me in one until I had convinced him that I had analyzed and fully understood how my mischievous scheme had gone wrong. I found it odd that Mother and Father never had anything to say about these punishments.
. . .
At first I thought I was in trouble, and my face must have reflected this fear because Father attempted to reassure me with a forced smile. But the uncharacteristic falsity of his behavior and his barely concealed agitation only made the situation worse. I had never seen him like this. Mother’s face was a mask; it revealed nothing. She spoke as if I needed to clean off the day’s work before we ate.
Garak treats him and Bashir ‘drifting apart’ the same way he describes his young self being trained by Tain to go over his ‘mistakes’ — what did I do wrong? You also see it (almost most heartbreakingly to me) from Tolan when he gets sharper out of worry at the end of the scene where the agent comes to take Garak away to the Bamarren Institute:
I was stunned. I wanted to ask more, I wanted to ask about the dedication ceremony that afternoon, but I didn’t dare. Father had that look when one of the workers didn’t get it right the first time. But what had I done wrong?
Oh buddy. He’s so fucking confused. The only thing you’ve done wrong yet is having been born with some connection to Enabran Tain, Elim, I’m so sorry
- We were the “missing pieces”—and in order to find our place in the mosaic of civilized society, we had to be broken down and reconstructed from the bottom up.
Keep your eyes open for ‘broken down and reconstructed’ too, it will be on the final test lol
- The good captain gave me one of his bemused stares.
Sisko ILU. He’s not in this book a lot so I’ll take the chance to say it here, because I do.
- It was explained to us that until we became disciplined in our relations with the “complementary gender” we would make better progress this way. When I asked One Tarnal how we would learn this discipline without interaction between the sexes, he blinked and mumbled something about “distractions.” When I asked what that meant I was told that I had a loose mouth and given five days of hygiene-chamber maintenance as punishment.
“You don’t know enough to ask so many questions.”
Elim 'Genuinely & Guilelessly Too Deeply Pansexual To Be Able To Follow This Logic’ Garak
- Pythas/Eight descriptions because this is a bad mutual crush situation:
- Unfortunately, the only student left was quiet Eight Lubak, who kept completely to himself. He agreed to accompany me and quickly moved to the door. He was short and slender, and his dark eyes and long lashes made him look younger than the rest of us. He was almost too delicate for a Cardassian. I was not encouraged … but I had no choice.
‘Dark eyes and long lashes’ huh lol
I started to follow him, but he made it clear that I should stay where I was and wait. All during this, Eight was quiet and controlled—and as sure of himself as if he’d done this many times. How did he know where he was going?
. . .
His face was dark, intense with concentration; his brow ridges, which were unusually pronounced, cast shadows over his eyes. My heart began to pound when I realized what Eight was planning. These were certain to be older students, but he expressed no hesitation, no doubt.
. . .
I didn’t know then if I could ever call Eight a friend. Something about him was strange and impenetrable. But it didn’t matter. At least I knew there was one person in my section I could trust. How I had misjudged him. It was obvious that Eight had what Cardassians call a ferocious spirit—and that I could learn a great deal from him.
. . .
Eight also came from a “service” family background, and it was soon clear to everyone that he should have been designated One Lubak, a fact not lost on the actual holder of that designation who, judging from his behavior and speech, came from the highest echelons of our society.
. . .
Five was an athlete who also did well in class. I could see that he was attracted to Eight. As indeed I was.
Big round of applause for Andrew Robinson managing to sneak the skywritten subtext into the text like this, it’s an exceedingly rare gift to get to have from the media of this time
. . .
But by then the group had passed. What murk? Me? Have all the others been captured? Surely not Eight. I couldn’t believe that was possible.
. . .
The only member of my group who performed as well in all areas was the taciturn Eight.
. . .
The truth, of course, was that I didn’t know how to forge those kinds of bonds. I wanted to be closer to Eight, and to a lesser degree Five, who besides being one of the great Pit strategists Bamarren ever had was fair in all his dealings.
. . .
Eight remained for a few more minutes. I had the feeling that he wanted to say something more to me. Suddenly he turned and disappeared behind a barrier. The air was filled with whatever went unsaid. He was as shy as anyone I had ever known.
The boys are being useless lesbians at each other omg……… what must this whole mess look like from Pythas’ POV tho. He’s been keeping an eye on his friend/crush so he doesn’t get himself killed by running his mouth off too much to the wrong person and before he knows it the guy is embroiled in an inadvisable bisexual sandwich of betrayal and savage intrigue. I wonder if anything would have been different if Garak and Pythas had managed to actually talk to each other here.
- Eight was the only person who deserved number One as much as I did—maybe more. My solitary behavior was not always in service to the group. Eight and I exchanged encouraging looks. The support of my one constant friend was all I wanted. I sat there and shut out everything else.
*Garak whenever someone prefers Pythas over him* understandable honestly I’d do the same thing he’s the best have a nice day
End Pythas/Eight teen crush corner
- My mind wandered. I was sure that I heard sounds of the women students gusting with the winds. Suddenly mother materialized … she looked like she was apologizing. I wanted to tell her how much I missed her, but her image dissolved and … Father took her place. I knew he was telling me something very important, but I was growing dizzy and afraid that I’d join Six on the ground … his words were carried away by the winds.
Suffering and agony
Some assorted 'Just assure me that I'm not going mad, Doctor'/Garak's ever-tenuous grip on his mental health moments:
-I don’t know why I wasn’t surprised that he knew. Instead, I was grateful; it told me I wasn’t going mad.
A recurring worry for him I’m sure it means nothing! I feel the same fellowship with him as I do with Harrow in The Locked Tomb series, which I’m sure says even less, don’t worry about it.
And how do we even begin to rebuild a world that doesn’t exist anymore? A world that exists in my mind with the same arid bitterness as the dust in my mouth. I have never lived with despair, Doctor, the way I live with it now. It’s almost like a phantom companion that shadows me and casts doubt on whatever I do.
“Why save him?” it asks, as we remove a young boy from the rubble of a school. “You’re only keeping him alive for a future of privation and chaos. Wouldn’t it be more satisfying to join the burial unit?”
I want to scream at this phantom, to shut it up. Once I turned around suddenly and raised my hand to strike it. When I realized it wasn’t there, it was too late. Everyone in the unit was looking at me; I’m sure I must have looked like a madman. Dr. Parmak tried to send me home, but I refused—alone it’s even worse.
I’m just imagining Julian arriving on Cardassia like ‘hey yeah I got your letter and we should fuck about it right now but first of all have you told Parmak you’ve been having vivid hallucinations again because that’s very relevant medical information Garak!!!’
- But it was in the Pit and my work with Calyx that I suffered the most. My dreaming made me “an air man.”
“You have no grip, no focus. How can you find your strength if you can’t hold your place? Living in your dreams is like living in exile.”
*whisper* pls don't...
- As I tried to put faces on the shadowy children, they began to approach me. They became more distinct as they moved through the rain and haze. Can you believe it, Doctor? They weren’t my schoolmates; they were the Cardassian orphans from the Resettlement Center on Bajor we once visited. The orphans left after the Cardassian occupation forces withdrew. The same young girl was their leader and her lips formed the same question.
Have you come to take us home?
I jumped up. I felt the shed closing in, threatening to swallow me. I ran out into the rain and gloom.
“There is no home anymore! Can’t you see that? Look around you! It’s gone!” I screamed at them and fell to my knees in the sodden waste. They continued to stare back with that same look of fragile trust that I would somehow relieve them of their fear and bring them home. I couldn’t look at them anymore and dropped down into the muck. My despair was no longer just a voice; it was this monstrous world the evil had created, and it surrounded and overwhelmed me.
I don’t know how long I remained curled up in the mud. I felt myself being lifted and half carried, half dragged back into my shed. It was Dr. Parmak. He cleaned and changed me as best he could. He prepared a cup of Tarkalean tea, which made me think of you, Doctor. How ironic, another doctor pulls old Elim out of the muck of his despair, but this time he’s a Cardassian.
The fact that in the episode itself, Garak (in a haze of endorphins and practiced dissociation) is barely like ‘yes yes I’m sure we’re ALL very upset about the orphans. Or whatever. Well what do you want me to do about it Doctor it’s just the way of the world’ and then it just haunts him horrifically for the rest of his life forever and ever the end! Very on brand.
Garak does seem to genuinely like and care for children in general, which makes my heart all weird and sad
Also Parmak making Tarkalean tea and Garak being like ‘oh. Like Julian :’(‘ about it my HEART. The fact that he’s a serial befriender of very patient kindhearted doctors willing to put up with his nonsense is probably the only reason he’s still alive lol. Thank u Parmak
- A difficult move under pressure against strong physical resistance from an opponent … and something would snap. A painful blow might set it off, a whispered insult, perhaps just a thought or a feeling of hopelessness, and I would suddenly lose control and lash out like a madman. I became suffused with a raging, crimson anger that poured out from some black hole somewhere deep inside me.
I feel like we see the outlines of this still in him by the time of the show — more tucked away and harnessed, but definitely still there. He’s got an instinctive Fight response a mile wide, it’s just that these days he mostly expresses it by becoming incredibly fucking MEAN when he feels threatened rather than outright physical attack.
- And there was a soothing quality as it spoke of dry legal definitions. It acted as a balm for my bruises and bitterness. I began to feel such longings. It was like hearing music that you love when you least expect it. How I missed Mother, and working with Father in the flower beds. How I longed for home. I dropped my guard and surrendered to the voice. The tears I was determined never to shed accompanied choking waves of shame and relief, sadness and joy. I finally was able to admit to myself how unhappy I was.
*me with my magnifying glass studying the Palandine/Bashir parallels* listening to Bashir talk about Federation nonsense things presumably fills much the same niche in Garak’s psyche as this haha
- “I assure you, I am not in the habit of attacking people I don’t know in public places. We got our feet tangled in the crush, and he went down—just as, moments before, I nearly wiped out the scent display when he ignored the fact that I was standing in his path. I trust he’s not hurt.”
“I expect more from you, Garak,” Odo lectured. “We’re all under a great deal of strain.”
“As am I, Constable. Please, sit down at least. I feel like a schoolboy being disciplined by the docent.”
Odo sighed and awkwardly perched on the barstool next to mine.
Their dynamic is. Everything to me. Also we learn later that the guy Garak picks a fight with here because he’s upset Julian is hanging out with Miles (lmao oh… buddy) isn’t just anyone or on impulse, but is one of the most hostile-to-Garaks Bajorans on the entire station with a small gang behind him, and Garak knows exactly who he is. Which lends it a certain… something. Almost an edge of very roundabout self-harm.
“I can’t stay long. I have to finish dealing with this …”
“ … situation,” I finished. “You’re very fortunate, Odo.”
“How so?” he asked.
“These people have come to trust you. They rely upon you. You’ve made a real connection here.”
Odo merely grunted. I was careful not to mention Major Kira, knowing how reserved he was on the subject.
“Do you still want to go home?” I asked.
The question startled Odo, and for a moment the mask of official reserve dropped from his face. This was the first time I had brought up the subject since his admission to me during the “interrogation” in the Romulan warbird and Tain’s ill-fated attempt to destroy the Founders’ homeworld.
“ I … can’t say,” he replied ambiguously.
“Well, I can. There’s certainly nothing here to keep me.”
“I never told you how sorry I was about Ziyal’s death.” Odo could be quite sensitive in such matters.
“You did, actually,” I nodded. “But thank you.”
“Still, you and Dr. Bashir have created a strong bond.”
“Not really,” I answered quickly. “I’m afraid that what I have to offer has run its course. It’s certainly no match for darts.” I heard the bitterness of my tone, and so did Odo. We sat in silence for a moment.
“I understand you’ll be involved in the invasion. You must be pleased.” Odo steered us away from the heaviness that had descended.
. . .
“When do you want to schedule your consultation?” I asked. Odo—no doubt influenced by his budding relationship with the Major—was about to branch out sartorially. But it occurred to me that Quark was the last person he wanted to know about it.
“We’ll talk,” he replied, nodding to Quark as he briskly marched back to the Promenade.
AHdorable all around. Hilarious that Odo picked up on trouble in human/lizard paradise and, with the vigor of a person who has freshly had love work out for them for the first time, going ‘not on my fucking watch you’ll talk to each other if it’s the last thing I do’. Also the sheer readiness with which he expects Julian to be Garak’s safe place. What on earth does this relationship look like to outside observers. Especially to Odo, practiced observer of humanoid folly, who completely nails Garak’s whole deal in Improbable Cause to the point that Garak lashes out defensively over it.
- My solitary confinement was agony. The only way I got through it was to rethink all my attitudes about the Pit and the Wilderness and to focus on how I could make my stratagems more effective. Just as I had learned to do when Uncle Enabran locked me in that suffocating closet. Was this the universal torture for failure, I wondered?
Going through the whole book it is so stunningly awful that this IS the logic his inner world is shaped around for the vast majority of his life, right up until the ‘present’ part of the storyline where it’s being slowly deconstructed and reassembled.
- I apologized to the others for disrupting their family; I explained that I had great need of this creature. Not only was Mila (as I eventually called him) the answer to my current problem, he was as important as any of the docents at Bamarren, with the possible exception of Calyx.
;_______________________________________________________________; there’s no part of this that isn’t crushing
Unlike the last time, I had preparation and an ally.
Tain really had to work at deadening Garak’s ability to form loyalty to anything else but him, because left to his own devices and natural instinct Garak will clearly packbond with ANYTHING. He’s so desperate to belong to someone and be loyal to them.
- As the sun came up, the otherworldly beauty of the Wilderness was gradually revealed by each succeeding gradation of light. I was deeply moved by the presence of so much color in what had initially looked like a dead world to me. Beginning with a cold pale gray, the dawn flowed through a range of blues and into the softest rose and pink and then to a hot red that soon gave way to the merciless bleached bone-white of midday. I was able to see how much territory I had covered the previous night.
Can I just say how unspeakably tender it is that he takes the time to write this out in this. It serves literally no purpose in this narrative but sentiment — to be beautiful. He saw something beautiful once that moved him and he wants to share it with someone. What the fuck.
- I became increasingly concerned; the sun was getting higher, and the overhanging ledge was now my last source of shade. At one point I took Mila out of his wrapping to check on his condition. At least that’s what I told myself. I was afraid that if I was honest and admitted that the real reason was to solicit help from a regnar, the slide into total insanity would be swift and sure. I was getting desperate.
The funniest and saddest thing I’ve ever read fhdskjfas emotional support regnar that he names after his fucking MUM hours. There are things going on with Garak no psychologist could ever hope to get to the bottom of
- Three more members of the Furtan group were on the other side of the rock formation, but Mila had found a hidden depression that required some quiet digging to get into, and we avoided detection. We settled in and resealed the opening with sand and loose rocks. After an indeterminate period, the Furtan hunters left. As we waited for nightfall I fell into a deep sleep.
BB!Elim and regnar Mila like ‘OUR secret hiding spot’. (Seeing how much garak both craves and thrives on getting to have that sense of ‘we’ and fellowship tho. And knowing that’s going to be not only deliberately kept from him but made psychologically impossible for him for a very long time. We should bring Tain back to life so we can kill him again and more painfully actually. Mercymorn acid jail for a thousand years time.)
- While I understood that I would have to watch my step with One Charaban, I also acknowledged that I had never been in a manlier or more attractive presence. It was like encountering an ideal that I’d only dreamed about. As I walked back to my section and accepted the congratulations of my mates, I was baffled not so much by the appearance of this new and commanding person in my life as by my recognition of his strong connection to me. But what connection?
Baby pansexual disaster at his finest
- The other day, the Doctor, Odo, and I were at the Replimat having lunch, an event that Odo, after our conversation, had taken it upon himself to organize.
. . .
“But what about you, Doctor?” I asked, returning to the business at hand. “It seems there’s a movement afoot to have you replace Captain Sisko.” The doctor winced.
“Is this true?” Odo asked. We both looked to the doctor for confirmation. He sighed.
“There’s a group of … genetically enhanced people who feel that one of their own should be guiding the station during this emergency, and they’ve petitioned the Federation Council, but it’s Jack and his group, and no one takes them…” Exasperated, he broke off. “Garak, how did you hear about this?”
“My clientele talk and I listen.” This was also true: an idiot savant who wears his presumed genetic superiority like a badge of privilege walked into my shop and never stopped talking. Of course I encouraged him, and by the time he left I had heard all about some organized attempt to elevate Dr. Bashir to the leadership position. I could see that the doctor was upset that I’d divulged this information. Clearly this genetic business was not his favorite topic of conversation.
“Is this something we should keep an eye on?” Odo asked, studying us carefully.
“No, not at all,” the Doctor assured him. “It’s just Jack’s people. This was nearly a year ago, and I’m afraid they have too much time on their hands—like some other people I know.” He pointedly looked away from me as Odo continued to study us, trying to decode the undercurrent of this last exchange between us. No wonder he was such a capable security operative. Odo registered every change in tone and temperature and tracked the change down to its cause.
“Tell me something, Garak.” It was clear that he had found an opening for one of those deferred questions he kept on a prioritized list somewhere in his changeling head. He was still a basically shy and tactful person, especially when it came to other people’s business, but lately he’d become more openly inquisitive. I wondered if it was Major Kira’s influence.
Matchmaker/self-appointed and woefully under-equipped marriage counselor Odo……….you are Everything to me you dumb beige bitch. Garak goes a bit aggro in return when he tries to get too close to something tender but honestly odo buddy gooey friend of my heart maybe you shouldn’t barge into this particular glassware shop like a rampaging elephant huh someone’s going to get cut. Also Garak could have refrained from pressing on Julian’s bruises for attention here and we may not have had the rest of the scene, but alas.
This must be the lunch where we deal with uncomfortable subjects.
“But if Cardassia is liberated from Dominion control …” Odo went on.
“When Cardassia is liberated,” I interrupted.
“Would you return?”
“Would you return to the Great Link?” Odo reacted with sharp annoyance to the question.It wasn’t a fair one, because although we were both exiles, we were in very different circumstances. With the humanoid shape he was still learning to live with, and his deepening relationship with Major Kira, Odo was discovering a new mode of existence, a new link. He had an alternative, however difficult the choice. I didn’t.
“Yes, I know. You can’t say.” I was sorry I had asked again. It was a question he was obviously struggling with.
The feeling Garak seems to have towards Odo in this period where like… you know when you have a friend who has a lot of the same mental health issues as you do and you see them get better and start to flourish and you are genuinely so happy for them but also feel just how deep in the muck you yourself still are with no prospect of getting out. And the way Garak consistently wistfully includes Odo’s romantic relationship to Kira when he observes how he’s coming out of his shell and why he has reasons to stay.
“Would you return to the same Cardassia?” the doctor asked.
“What do you mean ‘same’?” But I knew perfectly well what he meant.
“To a Cardassia containing the political and social elements that made the current situation possible.”
“My dear Doctor, that’s also the Cardassia that made me possible.” I half-hoped my joke would end this conversation … but I knew better.
Julian baby please read the room and take this up some other time somewhere private maybe (and yet I understand how you wouldn’t think of that until later once Garak’s had a rare public freakout)
Absolutely heartbreaking in every way that garak seems so convinced he must have done something wrong or simply doesn’t have anything more of interest to offer julian and that’s why they’re drifting apart, when a just as likely reading from what’s actually on the page here is that julian feels he keeps getting it wrong and hesitates in case he makes the damage worse. Garak have you considered who this man is before you decided you must have fucked up and resigned yourself to the dark closet of self-isolation tain put in your head. I’m in shambles.
Also Julian is saying a lot of very true things about Cardassia in this scene that Garak needs to hear and that he’s clearly processing all through the rest of his time on DS9 and beyond, as angry as it makes him, and the good doctor means so well but he IS being incredibly condescending, and he keeps pushing even as Garak is signaling he’d rather not go in depth on this, especially in such an exposed public setting. (This is a conversation they SHOULD be having in private, both for emotional reasons and b/c Garak’s position on this station is a lot more vulnerable than I think Julian realizes, as the hostile comments he immediately starts getting during this convo show.) I mean I guess it’s not this man’s fault he is fundamentally British and autistic what can a bitch do fdjslkfhasj (I say this with all the love in my fellow autistic heart, please do not misunderstand me here). But it’s a very Julian well-meaning but flawed thing to do — he’s focusing on the principle and intellectual side of it, but he’s not taking into account that just maybe having to deconstruct the entirety of your worldview and belief system and then feel responsible for implementing them to create a better world afterwards could be an emotionally fraught process that requires not only reasoned political debate but personal, emotional support from a friend. He isn’t getting that Garak isn’t so much categorically resistant to the basic ideas he’s setting forth — it’s that he wants to be convinced on a practical level that it could even work, because otherwise it’s just a useless pretty picture.
(Which is a big part of their dynamic on many levels, I’ve always felt. All those times he challenges Julian’s more hopeful and idealistic world view — ultimately he doesn’t do that because he wants to break Julian’s faith down until he agrees with him, he does it because somewhere deep down Garak wants to be convinced. He wants there to be hope somewhere in the world, even if he won’t buy the quick and glorified ‘it’s easy to be a saint in paradise’ Federation version of it. And Julian’s version isn’t that, in the end; it gets tested again and again and he really, genuinely means it, even when it’s hard. Which is one of the most healing things about his presence in Garak’s life overall.)
Ironically I also think Julian believes so much in Garak and his capabilities that it simply doesn’t occur to him that Garak as a private person might just be like. Too scared and overwhelmed to even contemplate this, at least until Garak is upset enough that he can’t gracefully hide it. (“With your background and experience, Garak, I’m certain that you could serve as a liaison between a new Cardassian government and the Federation.” The Doctor paused and waited for a response. None was forthcoming. “I once suggested that you visit Earth as a member of the Cardassian government-in-exile….” oh so no biggie then Julian that sounds easy and painless and I’m surprised no one has thought to do this yet, this Obsidian Order wilted leftover sandwich of a guy is surely going to be welcomed with open arms wherever he goes among his people fhsdakjfas!)
I feel like this is one of Julian’s less sympathetic traits that he would probably feel such intense self-loathing about once he realized it’s one he shares with his father — this instinct to try to shape someone into a ‘better’ version of themselves. I think Julian’s version of this primarily comes from a much, MUCH kinder place than in his father; he has the will and ability to see the best in the world and in people, and he can’t help but want them to live up to that once he’s seen it. He fundamentally believes people can be better, can be good, when given the help and tools they need, and that’s such a beautiful part of him. BUT along with that there is also a danger of that tipping over into becoming paternalistic and controlling, of overly privileging the ideal you see over the person who is actually there right now, and trying to forcibly change the one into the other ‘for them’.
Considering Garak’s past experiences of being shaped and controlled by someone else’s idea of what he should be, I’m if anything surprised he doesn’t react worse to this, honestly! I think it speaks to the basic trust and goodness that exists between them that he doesn’t. Julian is clumsy but not malicious, and even here Garak does recognize that on some deep level.
(Probably because he’s also been touched by Julian at his best, in The Wire — where his support and acceptance is absolute and unconditional, free of the instinct to control anything.)
My voice had risen to an uncharacteristic pitch. It was still ringing in my ears as the Doctor stared at me as if he were studying a baffling microbe. I, too, was baffled. I had no idea where this outburst came from. I know that a distance has widened between us during the past year or so and I know that the holosuite program incident and the revelations of his genetic enhancement are the symptoms of this distance rather than the cause. It’s only natural—we’re very different people. I also know that he had only the best intentions in suggesting that I use the Federation model in order to influence the future of Cardassia. Misguided, yes, and somewhat patronizing and arrogant, but hardly sufficient to elicit this embarrassing and public loss of control.
I mumbled some sad excuse which the good Doctor and Odo were kind enough not to challenge and left the Replimat to return to my shop. As I passed Quark’s I caught his eye and we nodded. Why I included him in my outburst also puzzled me; I rather admire his industry and resourcefulness. I especially admire the way he consistently bends Federation rules so that they work for him.
That’s such a fair evaluation of Bashir’s intentions and personality honestly. Even this upset and feeling that distance between them, Garak still has complete trust in the Doctor’s basic good intentions and nature. (Are you really such very different people at the end of the day, though, Elim. Should the genetic enhancement arc maybe be telling you something here.)
Also such a hilarious element of the Garak-Quark relationship.’Sorry to get you caught up in the crossfire bro I’ve never thought of you as anything but an avaricious opportunist (complimentary)’
What is important is that I feel that I am necessary, that I function with all my faculties in the service of a greater cause. And while I wait for this invasion, is making Odo more attractive to Major Kira a greater cause?
It is in fact nothing but the greatest cause Garak. Getting Kira happily lovingly laid is priority one at all times.
- I had no real friends to speak of, and told myself that loneliness was the price I had to pay for success. I considered the games and behavior of my mates to be childish, and that any unnecessary interaction would only distract me from my work. The truth, of course, was that I didn’t know how to forge those kinds of bonds. I wanted to be closer to Eight, and to a lesser degree Five, who besides being one of the great Pit strategists Bamarren ever had was fair in all his dealings.
(I feel like this whole part is going to hit Julian in some kind of way lmao)
Literally just. Put me in a little box on the bottom of the ocean and leave me there forever I can’t go on. Also he’s SUCH a clever-but-socially-inept teenager in this part around the people in his group he doesn’t like fhdkjsa. Ugh they’re all so annoying and fake just leave me alone *eyeroll emoji* I didn’t want to be included in their idiotic conversation bb elim… I would die for your lightly insufferable but entertainingly snarky teenage butt in a way that actually makes me feel more kindly towards my own inner idiot 16 year old.
Also it’s no wonder he’s so out to sea when it comes to interacting with his peers — by all accounts he didn’t play much with other kids as a child and then he’s dropped straight into a social Lord of the Flies piranha tank shot through with Class Shit.
Inspired by my guide Mila, I would experiment at withdrawing my presence when I had to remain in the same room with people I didn’t like.
Honing his future customer service worker smile
Here follow some Bamarren and beyond observations I’ve elected to call ‘Sex Stuff’:
- Oh ok so garak gets some sexual Thing out of being beaten to a pulp after mouthing off through the same mechanism that made spanking known as the ‘English Vice’ across Europe when that was the go-to punishment in British boarding schools. I see. Many things are revealed to me
I looked from the pale, frozen face of Three to the others. They all looked like statues commemorating fear. And I was pleased. I realized at that moment that they were in my control, and that I would no longer have any trouble with them. Especially Three. I felt the power like a drug surging through my system.
And then, of course, the other side of the masochism/sadism scale smoothly coming in, he contains those multitudes. In Garak’s defense idk if you could go through a psychosexual development that wasn’t deeply, deeply weird in this sort of environment
“What do you want me to do?” I was trembling as if my body were chilled.
Well, I mean. You know fhkdsjha. And he’s rewarded with the first non-aggressive physical contact he’s had here, you say. (For reference he’s talking to Barkan, of the aforementioned ‘manliest presence’.) I’m sure this didn’t awaken anything in him or anything.
“Elim, why do you think we have these ridges?” She stroked the scalloped cords of cartilege and bone that ran along her neck and down her shoulders with a delicacy that stopped my breath. The energy had turned into molten liquid that was now flowing into my groin. The rest of the world was swallowed by complete darkness and I was back inside the tunnel.
“Because … we do,” I replied stupidly.
Fhdjskfhsdjkfhadskjfhas he’s so easy fdsjkfhas. And what a one-two punch of sexual confusion he got there. That one afternoon did irreparable damage to the libidinous development of this poor man and now he has to live like this.
For the second time tonight I was spellbound by another’s passion. In very different ways, Charaban and Palandine held me in their orbit, like powerful suns.
I was learning something new about myself—an emerging desire for power, but a power that had less to do with mastery over others than it did with connecting to them. The way I felt the connection to Charaban … and especially to Palandine.
And, I’m so sorry to have to break it to you like this, your biodad. I’m sorry Elim you’ve got something truly unfortunately Freudian going on here. It’s not your fault.
“I love the Blind Moon,” Charaban said softly.
“Why is it called that?” I asked, deeply relieved by the mysterious change that had come over us.
“It’s the time for lovers’ assignations,” Palandine answered. “The moon will give them enough light to meet, but not so much for them to be discovered.”
“So if you and Elim were true lovers I wouldn’t have been able to find you,” Charaban teased.
“That’s right, Barkan,” she said with a direct look. I shifted position in the ensuing silence and tried to hide my disappointment with Palandine’s reply, but at the same time, the pleasure I felt in the company of these two people kept growing.
“See?” Palandine suddenly addressed me. “You can do it.”
“What?” I was startled by her delighted burst.
“Smile. Look at that, Barkan. Wouldn’t you tell someone with that smile everything he wanted to know?” she demanded.
“The first time I met him—well, the second…” he corrected himself, “he had a smile that I wanted to wipe off his face.” He was referring to that early morning in front of the Central Gate.
“But it wasn’t that smile,” Palandine insisted.
“No,” he conceded. “Definitely not that one.” And the truth was that I could feel this smile throughout my entire body.
Noooo this is about to go so wrong…it’s all fun and games and bisexual poetry recitation under the blind moon until someone gets stabbed in the back like the Caesar (well caesar notably got stabbed from many many directions but you see what I’m trying to get at here)
- [The Klingon] looked up, and I immediately knew two things about him: he was inebriated beyond reason and he was one of their shock troopers, a callused veteran of hand-to-hand combat. I took a deep breath; as dolts go he was quite impressive. My spirits were suddenly and immeasurably lifted.
“You spoonhead!” he growled at me. I hated that word.
“And you … a great warrior who brings down dabo girls with a single blow,” He looked at me trying to decide if I had insulted or complimented him.
“P’tak!” I shouted, “I mean that you’re the biggest coward in the Klingon Empire,” He released the dabo girl, and as he moved to the narrow stairway I thought that he was also the biggest Klingon in the Empire.
I looked for my advantage. This was not an equal match, and my gigantic friend was in the full flush of a berserker blood lust. I sighed. I’m too old for this, I thought.
. . .
“Get security, Chief, and tell them to prepare the biggest cell they have … or a smaller coffin for me,” I said as I moved into the alcove and squeezed through the opening where the panel had been.
Listen I would apologize for including this here but he’s clearly getting off on this and I couldn’t do anything about it if I wanted to.
I cannot convey just how much my already intense enjoyment of canon is enriched by the knowledge that Garak is up to these kinds of hijinks constantly in the background when the camera isn’t on him. In his defense he was left unsupervised. O’Brien’s fond mildly exasperated help is just the cherry on top. ‘Well I GUESS Julian would be upset if I let you get beaten to death by a drunk Klingon so fine I’ve got your back’
(I made for the upper Promenade—and wondered if Calyx might be enjoying this spectacle from wherever he was. ;______; I like how much of an impact Calyx has on his development, considering how briefly he was actually in his life. Plus: Calyx; the Aiglamene of Bamarren? Locked Tomb/DS9 fandom overlap people, Let’s Discuss.)
“Help me,” he croaked. I was touched by the giant’s childlike surrender. I knew the feeling well.
“I will,” I replied and immediately wondered why I had agreed. I’m getting soft, I thought.
The greatest joy to me of a lot of this is, like… idk if these are all exactly the things that happened at every turn. In fact I’d say they very likely aren’t, Garak’s entire character taken into consideration. But they are certainly the things he wants someone — someone he trusts as far as he knows how, someone he earnestly wants to be closer to than anyone else, and also wants to see all of him — to know about him, to share in. This could just have easily been a story he told Julian in person over lunch to make him laugh. It’s silly and frivolous and fun, and as much at his own expense as a ludicrous person as to show off. To a true lying liar who lies connoisseur, unreliable narration tells more than it obscures etc. lol
- (About Barkan) It was the appearance of warmth that made his charm so attractive. A part of me wanted to tell him everything, to challenge the duplicity of his negative evaluation, but the clarity I found in the Lower Prefect’s office was still with me. Looking at him, I was reminded how Palandine had taught me to smile when I asked questions.
Apart from Pythas, who gets his own little twink corner, most of the people Garak is attracted to throughout this are his height or taller and slender but athletic. I’m just saying that when he spotted Julian in the Replimat for the first time he really saw a young man with the face of an angel who is exactly his type fhdjskah maybe he should have seen this coming for himself. Too high on endorphins and hubris to think this would awaken anything in him irrevocably and now he’s stuck with the consequences.
Why? I asked myself. Why?! For the life of me I could not understand why it was important to her that I respond. Why should she—so beautiful, so alive—be disappointed if I didn’t return her … what? What did she want from me? Friendship? Why me?
I was in turmoil. Her grace and manner, the way she tilted her head and half smiled when she listened, as if everything amused her … it was like a forbidden dream of the unattainable. The attraction was painful because I instinctively knew that while my life would be simpler and more controllable without her, it would also be as drab as my Bamarren uniform.
. . .
“Are you making fun of me?” It was at that moment, when I asked the question, that I realized just how afraid I was of being the object of her ridicule. She stopped laughing and for the first time she was speechless.
Losing my entire fucking MIND about how Garak is basically taking Palandine’s place when he approaches Julian at first. Odo and Garak ‘I love you so much I want to become you because it’s the only way I can imagine really being close to you’ handshake meme
Sex stuff end. For now.
I was about to leave when Odo asked about the designs for his “new” sartorial look. I could see that he was masking his concern, so I assured him that the sketches were some of my finest creations, and would be ready within the week. He grunted his thanks and I stepped out onto the Promenade. Love does make fools of us all.
I’m clawing at my face with emotion. Odo… And Garak did finish those sketches even after his moment of existential ennui over them before.
- Please for the love of god stop putting Six out in the merciless sun T_____T how many times must a poor lil nerd boy pass out before he can rest in the sand etc.
- “It’s not every evening we find Barkan Lokar strolling with a murk through the Grounds.”
“Lokar? My father buried the Legate, Turat Lokar,” I said without thinking.
“Did your father kill him?” Palandine joked. But I didn’t laugh. The Lokars were a legendary family, and the old man’s funeral was the largest I had ever seen.
Why is this so funny. Garak you are so fucking weird. ‘Oh yeah I know that guy my dad did the flower arrangements for his funeral’
- A spirited dabo game involving several Klingons and a serious-looking dabo girl I hadn’t seen before caught my attention. If Quark had been present he’d be giving her one of his congeniality lectures. I truly sympathize with the young woman; if I had to spend all day with these drunken dolts….
Literally so hilarious that’s his first thought. First impulse: ‘surrounded by idiots’ solidarity. Garak what were you doing day drinking at the devil’s sacrament/quarks at midday girl…
- Rom soon appeared with a small container of kanar. He was wearing an outfit I had made for him.
“H-here you are, Garak. I hope you enjoy it.” Ever the gracious host.
“Thank you, Rom. And please, try not to let your collar lie there like a dead targ.” I adjusted the offending fabric, and Rom sweetly tolerated my fussing.
I’m fucking crying what the HELL. Surprise wholesome dynamic that keeps going through the whole narrative. Garak just uncomplicatedly likes and appreciates Rom, with no particular ulterior motive. Plus: fussing is also how we see Mila express affection, like mother like son.
- I realized as I took a sip of my drink that I was in a dangerous mood. Drinking in the middle of the day. The Doctor would be quite disappointed with me. When I’m unable to immerse myself in work my mind becomes occupied by an invading army of thoughts intent upon conquering all equilibrium and peace. Kanar is a valuable if unreliable weapon I employ against this army. The pills the Doctor gives me are a poor substitute.
Julian, severely unimpressed: uh-huh
‘Would Julian want me to do this to myself? No. However he’s too busy playing soldiers with O’Brien to tell me so, apparently, so that can’t stop me.’ You petty lil bitch garak (affectionate)
The fact that he’s doing the The Little Julian Who Lives In My Head thing already here, where the real Julian is actually around but not engaged with him. I’m so sad. He’s managed to discover shrimp colour spectrums of loneliness and pining.
- Ever since the Romulan business and Captain Sisko’s near breakdown (outside of the Doctor, whom I told shortly after the incident, no one knows about this, but one recognizes the symptoms), I’ve been obsessed with memories of Bamarren.
The fact that he tells Julian about that. Presumably partly in a practical way to make sure Sisko doesn’t fall to pieces completely but he doesn’t seem to have any shame about it or expect Bashir to react too badly over it either. The trust…
- I must admit that I was quite taken aback. Evidently there is honor among dolts.
I’m genuinely impressed by how enjoyable it is in this book to be party to Garak’s inner voice. It’s so fun in here, among all the horrors.
- Nine approached me as I sat alone in our quarters reading the first part of Cylon Pareg’s Eternal Stranger, a saga spanning several generations of a Cardassian family during the early and middle Union.
*whisper of agonized affection* between this and his happy place being studying wormhole theory… he’s such a little nerd.
Nine swallowed again, an even more bitter taste, and marched off to a life of diminishing returns.
LMAO burn. And, as we shall see, not necessarily inaccurate.
- As I walked away I heard the custodian ask Tarnal what it was I had done to deserve this punishment.
“Nobody told me. But I know he’s got a mouth on him,” Tarnal replied.
The more things change I guess fdhsakja. Known across the school for being a) a sneaky lil bastard and b) never ever shutting the fuck up when he really really should
- “And you have to use that wonderful smile of yours more often, Elim.”
“What’s that got to do with listening?” That was the subject, and Palandine had typically made a jump in logic I couldn’t follow. She also forgot that I was a Cardassian male and smiling was not one of our strong features.
“If they feel comfortable with you, people will tell you stories about themselves that will reveal their deepest secrets.”
“But what if the stories aren’t true?” I challenged. “I could smile till my cheeks hurt, and you could tell me any kind of story you wanted—and what would I know about you except what you invented?”
“You would know, if you were truly listening, the kind of story I use to define myself,” she asserted.
“But it’s not the truth!” I maintained.
“Why not? Because it’s not what you believe? Or it doesn’t fit a definition of the truth that someone taught you? Look at people, Elim.” Palandine gestured as if the enclosure were filled with people. “Observe them. The way they walk and talk, the way they hold themselves and eat their meals. That’s what they believe about themselves. Is it the ‘truth’? Are they really that way? I don’t know. Perhaps it is a lie. But what people lie about the most are themselves, and these lies become the stories they believe and want to tell you.”
“As long as I’m smiling,” I mumbled.
. . .
“Truth, as we’ve learned to define it, is not only overrated,” she went on with a controlled passion, “it’s designed to keep people in the dark.”
This last statement stopped me.
“You mean the way we’ve been taught?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“What about our government?”
“They tell us the stories that we need to know in order to be good citizens,” she replied carefully.
“They don’t tell us the truth, is what you’re saying,” I concluded.
“There you go again. They tell us their truth, Elim, and we are here to learn how to listen.”
. . .
“Let the ones without power scowl and make fierce faces.You smile. It’s an invitation to connect with another person. And once the invitation is accepted, relax and listen … you’ll come to know as much as you’ll ever need to about that person,” she said with a smile that I greedily accepted.
“You would know, if you were truly listening, the kind of story I use to define myself,” she asserted.
“But it’s not the truth!” I maintained.
“Why not?”
SO when I was saying he’s taking Palandine’s place in this dynamic with Julian early on I was not kidding and I was not wrong hahaha. And it’s also what this entire book is, in the end. Trusting Julian to ‘truly listen’ to the story under the stories is maybe the biggest show of trust and vulnerability Garak could ever extend to anyone. Extremely The Wire-core once more.
The idea that tiny Garak was too outwardly glum and serious is. Amazing and brainbreaking. People feeling uncomfortable under his gaze b/c he’ll just like scowl distrustfully at them. Palandine I don’t know if you fixed him or made him worse but you certainly did something fundamental to him and committed him to the bit and for that I cannot thank you enough
- I no longer had Palandine to myself—but surprisingly, I didn’t mind, in fact I was pleased that Charaban was here. His stillness, like everything else about him, had grace and strength. I sneaked another look in his direction and marveled that this was the same person I had first encountered in the storeroom. He returned my look, and in the next few moments a bond grew between us that I had never thought possible.
You know if Barkan was really smart or had the capacity for extended self-control he would have just kept stringing Garak along as the third in his disastrous marriage. Garak is used to subsisting on the merest scraps of affection and consideration, you’d barely even have to feed him. (Ala Daisuke Jigen with many an evil ex, for the Lupinheads out there lol) A threesome here and there and maybe gently stroking his hair afterwards and you’d have him for life, probably. Alas or perhaps thankfully Barkan is ultimately just an asshole and not that smart.
- A Bolian client came down the steps outside the door and was about to enter the shop, but for some reason he stopped at the threshold. He looked at us, turned, and went back the way he came.
LMAO that guy was like ‘something really fraught and homosexual is going on here and that is frankly none of my business, as you were gentlemen don’t mind me.’ A real ally and a bro.
“I’m keeping you from your business.” Bashir stood up. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”
“I’m pleased you stopped by.” I was about to escort him to the door.
“No, you’re not,” he said quietly.
“Excuse me?”
“Garak, I come from a culture that has perfected the ‘stiff upper lip,’” he explained with the same faint smile.
“What does that mean?” It was a genuine question; there was a change in his attitude.
“It means that we never complain, never admit to our feelings, never ask for help. It’s just not done,” Bashir explained. “And those people who lack character’ and insist on airing their needs—especially in public—are subject to ridicule… and worse. Does this sound familiar?”
“Perhaps,” I replied softly.
“But I’m also a doctor, Garak. And I know which group of people suffers the most. I really won’t take up any more of your time.” He extended his hand, which he rarely did, and I took it. “Thank you for the tea.” He turned and went out the door.
I stood there for a long moment, deeply upset. I felt trapped within myself, knowing what I had to do to get out but unable even to begin. Yes, Doctor, it does sound familiar. But as to the question of which group suffers the most…
. . .
After Charaban’s betrayal I became as withdrawn and solitary as I had been when I first came to the Institute. I tried to spend time with Palandine, but it never quite worked out; between her regular duties and the recruitment and planning for the female Competition, she had little time for anything else. But there was something else, a distance that had crept between us that I didn’t understand. I felt ashamed, that somehow I had failed and it was my fault, but I found it difficult to discuss. This was probably the loneliest I had ever been.
1) Going NUTS over the fact that these are separated by ONE paragraph. Andy Robinson staring directly into the camera making parallels between the main love interests in this book like ‘Am I making myself clear here. Do you get it yet’. Also really interesting to make this relationship pattern a, well, pattern in Garak’s life, and not a unique element of his and Bashir’s thing (which Doylistically was basically a byproduct of cowardly 90s standards for tv writing more than anything else lol)
2) But there was something else, a distance that had crept between us that I didn’t understand. I felt ashamed, that somehow I had failed and it was my fault, but I found it difficult to discuss. This was probably the loneliest I had ever been.
The Palandine/Bashir parallel train barrels on, scoring a deep trail of heartache into my soul. Also in that case it’s so sad because he really hasn’t done anything wrong or anything to be ashamed of, Barkan and Palandine are the ones who fucked him over :’(
3) I stood there for a long moment, deeply upset. I felt trapped within myself, knowing what I had to do to get out but unable even to begin. + Tolan’s grief at seeing Garak after Bamorren: “He’s hard, Mila,” Father said. . . . “But to the point where he’s unreachable?” Father asked. “Where nothing penetrates? How can he express even his basic needs if he’s trapped inside a shell?” + Just as I had learned to do when Uncle Enabran locked me in that suffocating closet. Was this the universal torture for failure, I wondered?...........................................................................
4) More proof to my eyes that Julian’s side of this whole thing seems to be more about thinking Garak doesn’t actually want him to be there. He doesn’t think he’s welcome here or that he’ll be able to help more than he hurts with whatever’s going on for him. ‘I really won’t take up any more of your time’ AUGH
Garak buddy… every time he tries to get closer to you or extend some care, you bristle like a hedgehog even though you’re trying to do it in as polite and decent a way as possible — what is the poor guy supposed to think beyond a certain point lmao. (Though on the hopeful/beautiful side… what is this entire book but Garak actually taking the advice/suggestion Bashir gives in this scene to reexperience his past and put it in context — not in the holosuites, but in his own way by writing it all out in a way that makes sense to his Cardassian brain and then sharing that with Julian directly. Like. The last line of the book is ‘You’re always welcome, Doctor’. Elim ‘I will become emotionally healthy enough to ask Julian to come visit with an open heart if it fucking kills me’ Garak)
I’m so soft for how careful they both are with each other in this scene, though. Even in this difficult place where there’s stuff they don’t understand about each other and they are having difficulty connecting for… several reasons, they are trying so so hard to be good to each other. Which is why I think they have every chance of working out brilliantly long-term; once you’ve got a mutual respect, willingness to keep working to understand and communicate with each other even when it’s difficult, and that fundamental ‘I don’t want to hurt you’ good faith in a relationship you’re a good chunk of the way there, from what I have observed.
Julian cares that Garak was upset, much more than he cares about being right, and this time he shows it in a more private setting where Garak can take it in. They’re trying!
5) The implication in But as to the question of which group suffers the most… that Garak also realizes how much he’s hurting Julian by not being able to let him in…
Most of all the fact that Bashir in this scene is like ‘Listen Garak I get emotional repression. I’m literally British.’ is one of the funniest things that happen in the whole book. To me. (I’m Norwegian, culturally this has. Some overlap with my experience, let’s say lol)
- Six had long since gone home. He wanted to succeed so badly, but his body couldn’t withstand the constant assault of the training. I’m sure he found an academic situation.
Oh thank GOD. Genuinely so relieved to hear this. This is how many times a nerd boy must pass out before he rests in the sand and gets to go to normal university instead of murderschool, the question is finally answered.
- Tain has shown up again and I want to throw rocks at him until he goes away. And I know he won’t.
- My shed has become somewhat more bearable, but the clutter and confinement of the interior space requires that I leave the door open. To keep myself busy when I’m not working with the med unit, Doctor, I am engaged in a project I must tell you about. It baffles me. Perhaps you can tell me if I’m losing my mind altogether.
. . .
[Parmak] turned to me with the strangest expression on his face—and looked me directly in the eyes for the first time.
AUGH. (Plus, the fact that Parmak consistently calls him ‘Elim’.)
But what baffles me, Doctor, is that I attach no meaning to what I’m doing here. I’m just doing it because I need to. And to be truthful, I don’t see this as a memorial at all. On the contrary—if I could, I’d singlehandedly rebuild this city myself, piece by piece. I stood here watching Parmak’s blood dry on this pile of rubble, engulfed by a feeling of loss and utter mystification as to what these piles mean.
Just assure me that I’m not going mad, Doctor.
This whole section is the biggest mood and I’ve rarely felt closer to a fictional character haha. His quietly dissociated tired bemusement both with himself and what he’s doing and Parmak’s reaction is… yeah that’s exactly what that feels like. And ‘Just assure me that I’m not going mad, Doctor’ has done irreparable damage to my psyche, I’m going to be thinking about this forever
- Palandine gestured that she would deal with me and sent the mate on her way.
“So what did you use me for?” I asked.
“What do we ever use each other for?” she replied without hesitation.
“Answering a question with a question is an old trick, Palandine.”
“No trick. I needed a friend.”
“And you don’t need a friend now” I hated the tone that was creeping into my voice.
“It’s complicated, Elim.”
I was afraid to ask why.
“What did you use me for?” she asked.
The question truly baffled me. I only wanted her love. Was that using her? I would gladly have given mine in return.
Still gnawing on concrete over Garak partially reenacting Palandine’s way of approaching him with Bashir in the beginning. At that point he also needed a friend (and he needed someone to run to Sisko like ‘THE SPY TALKED TO ME :D’ to deliver intel through so he was also using him lol.) The way Garak picks up traits from the people he loves like he’s doing the soul version of Odo’s shapeshifting-as-closeness thing because it’s the only way he knows.
- “So it’s Eight,” he said, dismissing me from his world.
“I don’t think you understand, Barkan….” Palandine began to say.
“It’s not necessary that he understand,” I dismissed him from my world.
Barkan… you did not understand what you were doing, getting into an emotionally and sexually charged petty-off with this man. RIP your stupid ass I guess lmao
“I wanted to tell you. But when I realized … I didn’t want to hurt you,” she said with a gentleness that rankled me.
“I’m not hurt. Neither one of you can hurt me. I wish you a successful… partnership.”
Palandine is so interesting!!!! And like here’s one of the things that I think make a big difference in Garak’s relationship with Palandine vs. his relationship with Julian — who tells him exactly the same thing in ‘The Wire’, after all! (I don’t want to hurt you) Because Palandine doesn’t really mean it, does she? She doesn’t mean ‘I don’t want you to be hurting, I want to protect you from being harmed’, she means ‘I didn’t want to be the thing that hurt you; I didn’t want to be faced with your hurt’, while she is doing things that will inevitably hurt him. I think there is genuine affection and care on her side, but they’re in such a fucked up, brutal world and they’re so young.
‘I’m not hurt. Who’s hurt’ says teen crying quiet tears of blood as his world falls to pieces
“I love him, Elim. And I’m also ambitious. I want what he wants. You’ll understand this when you find someone to share your….”
Not me wondering how much of this has echoes to Mila’s relationship to Tain and how that’s part of what Garak reacts to — that survival mechanism of ‘I want what he wants’, subsuming and submitting yourself completely. Which of course is what a Cardassian is supposed to do to the state, and that Garak also does with Tain for the vast majority of both of their lives. The worst part is that Palandine really had some reason to hope for more — she and Barkan start out in a more equal position than it’s implied Mila and Tain ever did, that’s always framed as an inter-class thing, and while Palandine’s family situation is not as grand as Barkan’s it doesn’t seem like it crosses the service class/ruling class barrier. But the structure of the state imposed on every level of society right down to the most intimate and personal areas of life is going to crush the life out of that hope real fast. I’m sorry girl. Wanting to have a fighting chance in this world isn’t the worst sin anyone’s committed and tbf you are like a teen by all accounts
- “My name is Elim Garak. I don’t know where I’m being sent, but I hope you’ll remember me as your friend.”
“When I was told today that I was One Lubak, I was honored… and afraid that I’d lose you as a friend. Thank you. My name is Pythas Lok.”
Neither one of us ever took our eyes off Mila, who was still trying to blend into his surroundings.
Crying gently into my cereal
Garak ‘I wasn’t sure I could ever call him a friend’ vs. Pythas ‘Afraid that I’d lose you as a friend’
Something powerful was stirring deep inside me, and I began to shake. Mila snapped his head to the side, the way he does when he senses light or heat change. Convulsive waves pushed up from my center and tears filled my eyes, blinding me. I had absolutely no control over what was happening to me. By the time the convulsions subsided and my eyes cleared, Mila had disappeared into the rock-and-sand home he came from.
Absolutely sobbing my eyes out into my cereal
Spoiler warning: Garak having to go somewhere to be alone after something calamitous happens in his life because that’s the only way he can cry is a theme that will reemerge later and do unspeakable emotional damage to me personally haha
As I hiked back to the Institute, I had the thought that maybe somebody was doing the same thing for me and bringing me back home.
No baby you see someone is doing the exact opposite of this to you right now because you have a basic goodness and capacity for real honest love that Tain doesn’t and he’ll never in a million years set you free just because he loves you and it’s the right thing for you
- And Jadzia is gone. The station is a sadder and grayer place without her. I’m surprised at how keenly I feel her absence. Even though I know that her symbiont has been “joined” with another person … well, it’s not the same, is it? Indeed, knowing that Jadzia’s personality is somehow contained along with several others within this other person, I wonder how I would react if we were ever to meet.
:(
The doctor has reminded me that these are personal choices, and it’s not for us to judge how one chooses to mourn. Quite so. Who can even begin to understand another’s grief? “Do you judge people by the clothes they ask you to make?” the doctor asked once. I bit back my response, but the point was well taken.
:’) little soul-healing brush of Julian kindness time
- “What does Tir Remara want with you?” Colonel Kira demanded, ignoring my offer of tea. Immediately an entire picture formed in my head of the scenario her abrupt question suggested: Tir Remara—a spy, perhaps even a changeling, preying upon a lonely Cardassian who was working for the Federation and engaged in top-secret work.
“She wants to have my children,” I replied with a serious look.
“You can’t be serious,” she managed.
“I’m not. Now do you want this tea or not?”
Kira should just have strangled you all those times she wanted to you snarky asshole fhdskja
#a stitch in time#asit#garashir#star trek#star trek ds9#ds9#elim garak#The great ASIT first read adventure#<- making that the tag for the rest of the posts!#ds9 meta#well nominally I do SOME analysis between all the keysmashing and nonsense haha#forgive me if I've gotten something wrong in this I've been uh. overexcited! I'm sure I'll be able to think clearly again soon (lying)#julian bashir#I'm not going to tag every char I talk about in this because I do love myself a bit but the good doctor hangs over everything in this book#so he gets his own tag#maybe I'll come back and get them all for book keeping purposes eventually but nOT tonight
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I finished my rewatch of Kim Possible
A++, excellent finale, wrapped all plotlines up nicely in a way that’s sadly become rare in modern tv. Definitely worth rewatching if you remember this show from your childhood, and most certainly worth a watch if you’ve never seen it before. Holds its own as a comedy action/adventure show in its own right outside of a ‘kids’ genre (and it’s for teens anyway, so it’s not juvenile).
I can’t tell you how overjoyed I am to have gotten to re-experience these characters that were so formative to who I am today and moreover the types of shows and characters I like as an adult. I really can trace a lot of the tropes and villains I enjoy back to Dr. Drakken and Shego, and I actually have a new layer of appreciation watching as an adult for a lot of the workplace humor and wit they used.
Yes, Dr. Drakken was my OG poor little meow meow, long long before that was a thing. That is the saddest most pathetic little blue man I have ever seen. Boy did they put him in situations, and I treasured every second of it. And seeing him actually save the world in the end was so rewarding. Loved watching Shego’s ups and downs, occasional forays into heroism, and recognition that she’s the only competent one in the room. Monkey Fist was a villain I don’t think I appreciated enough years ago but I adored him this time, and it gave me the chance to yell academia jokes at the tv - plus the DNAmy romance plotline had me in absolute stitches. Not to mention of course, how much this all took me back to how it felt to be in high school, for better or for worse, and the momentous feeling of graduation and starting the next chapter of my life.
It’s sad that I really get into some of these niche or outdated shows/movies/books that don’t really have a fandom (or if they do, do I really want to see it? I want to enjoy this with other people but I fear to actually see what other people think of the characters or what they’ve done with them), but regardless, I think I’ve done right by past me. I think it’s important to look back on the things that made you who you are - those favorite books, movies, music - and revisit them. There’s no need to leave them behind because you think you’ve outgrown them or that it was ‘cringe’ or whatever reason. I’ve gone back to a few bands from high school recently and you know what? They’re still bangers. I had good taste.
This show was quality, and I think there will always be people for whom Kim Possible was formative. I hope new generations will find this show. Every time I’m out somewhere and hear a Kim Possible ringtone, I know I’ve found someone like me who appreciates their inner child (and inner teen). And maybe has a soft spot for mad scientists :)
#kim possible#now it's over and im sad#i'm still trying to hunt down the original teen titans. that was another formative show besides danny phantom#did I mention I also rewatched the original Ben 10? cause that was also excellent just as I remembered#they were allowed to go even darker than KP ever did#not as dark as teen titans but. it was the golden age of cartoon network#oh and I rewatched drake and josh too. STILL QUALITY
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