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fabseg-reader · 6 months

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Miraculous fanfic: Chrysabug (First Time)

I've drawn new Cerisette/Chrysabug sketches. The first (at the top) illustrates the first meeting (or first confrontation) between Ladybug and Chrysalis and how should be happening. Below, there is a fanfic.

This happens in a rooftop of a building. Ladybug has been attacked by a supervillain (or precisely by a supervillainess): It's in fact the new Butterlfy Miraculous Holder. After an intense duel (with the use of the Lucky Charm and the Miraculous Ladybug for repair the minor damages on the roof), Ladybug had managed to immobilize her Butterfly girl. The latter is trapped in her opponent's yo-yo.

Ladybug (in good mood, teasing): It seems I have cought a special butterfly. Is that you, the Nooroo's new Holder ?

Chrysalis (confident): I just hoped I could catch a interesting specimen as you are, Ladybug.

Ladybug: Who are you ?

Chrysalis: Before you call your Cat*, I want say to you who I am, my Lady.

Ladybug feels confused about her adversary saying 'My Lady'. It's the Cat Noir's line.

Chrysalis: I am Monarch's former apprentice. The future Hawkmoth. But for the moment, I prefer you call me Chrysalis.

Ladybug: Sounds like you are too proud about yourself, Chrysalis.

Chrysalis giggles.

Chrysalis: When you fought against Monarch, I was present. I came to the Agreste manor for steal the Butterfly brooch to Mr Agreste. I just came to take my revenge on him for having backfired me. I've observed you in action, but none of both you had noticed my presence. I know all about you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Ladybug: What ?

Chrysalis (smiling): Even about the wish processus. Gimmi the kwami of the Reality. The Gabriel's self-erasure from the reality. I could reveal that to everyone (even to Adrien) but I haven't did it. That happened two months ago. Do you know why I still keep your secret hidden ?

Ladybug (perplexed): What do you mean ?

Chrysalis: I hide your identity from the public because I respect you, my Lady.

Ladybug is intrigued.

Chrysalis: Since I know you exist as the superheroin of Paris, I hated you so much for having saboted my schemes. I've teamed up with Hawkmoth who will become Monarch for eliminating you. I hated you even in your civilian form, so I had to ruin your life. I hated you until the day of the final battle against Monarch when I has been witness of your detransformation of Bugnoire. I was confused first like you are actually confused. I've found out Marinette and Ladybug are the same person that explains why you're the only one I've never managed to make you fell in my words.

Ladybug: Wait a minute. Your words ? You would say: Your lies ?

Chrysalis: Ding ! ding ! ding ! good answer, my Lady.

Ladybug (shocked and grossed): Lila ?!

Chrysalis: Yeah and not really. Lila Rossi was nothing but a disguise. Things aren't always what they seem to be at first sight. I have used too many identities and disguises on my life even before you and Cat Noir had begun your adventures/tales on Paris. My vision of the world is just... different.

Ladybug: It's a lot of things you're telling me, 'Chrysalis'. How can I be sure you're not lying to me, this time ? A trap ?

Chrysalis: I understand your vigilance but I don't come to you as your enemy. I have a deal for you.

Ladybug: What deal ?

Chrysalis: I challenge you to discover my birth name and/or to find my residence. You can call the place my lair but I call it La Plage too. I keep your real identity secret, my Lady. Don't worry.

Ladybug: You introduce yourself to me with the only missing miraculous. You already engage a duel against me and now you propose me an 'treasure hunting' about you ?

Chrysalis: The duel was just a test but I will try to be fair on this .

Ladybug stays careful of the butterfly girl's words. She stealthly spins for watching around herself (realizing a panorama) and she turns her look on the captive.

Ladybug: I just want to be sure you haven't bring some akumatized people.

Chrysalis: I even haven't akumatized anyone yet at Paris. Have you noticed that ? I offer you this deal. But only to you.

Ladybug: Why me ?

Chrysalis begins to be flirtatous.

Chrysalis (blushing): Because you have made me curious toward you. Since you've hidden the fact Gabi and Monarch were the same person from everybody in the world, I just realised you and I are similar, familiar. Together, we need each other.

Ladybug is like slightly disturbed by Chrysalis' words.

Ladybug: Do you believe I will accept this deal ?

Chrysalis: So. Do you prefer I reveal who is really Gabriel Agreste to everybody (even in prison) ? Bring me to jail and it will be fun. Take me the miraculous but I have covered the brooch with a strong glue for prevent you to remove it to me.

The red black-spotted superheroin still expresses some doubts. Meanwhile, she is now aware of these revelations used to not be lies: her adversary knows her real identity, the same girl has been Hawkmoth's accomplice for akumatization causes, knows how to use the Absolute Power from Tikki and Plagg and the girl is used to be 'Lila Rossi'. She has even confessed Lila was a simple disguise she had weared during her time at Françoise Dupont school with many disguises. Meanwhile, Ladybug rethinks about the actual butterfly holder's case.

Why hadn't she tried to steal the Ladybug and Cat miraculouses for summon Gimmi and make the wish for herself ? Has she some other plans ? If she can use some fake identities and some fake looks, why didn't have used all her ressources ? Is it possible Nooroo can accept a girl like her as his holder ?

Ladybug realizes about this point: During the Summer vacation, 'Lila'/Chrysalis hasn't come back in her life. This peace time has been too good for her. And now, like an intuition, the superheroin begins to think her adversary is honest for real. Despite the confusing situation she's living, Ladybug has the feeling her nemesis isn't telling lies to her at all.

Chrysalis: Have you chosen your choice, my Lady ?

Ladybug: Fine. I let you leave, Chrysalis. For this time.

The superheroin removes her yo-yo, freeing Chrysalis. The latter takes her swordcane, moves away from Ladybug and jumps from the rooftop to a building.

Chrysalis: Thank you for your choice. We will see you again, Ladybug. (making an evil smile) But as a civilian, I look forward to seeing you again, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. When will happen, I will be already disguised. (becoming cheerful again) That's my clue for you. I wish you Good luck for finding out who I am really, my real name and my real backstory.

Chrysalis moves her arms for forming a heart pose at the top of her own head. It's a directed message to Ladybug. The latter is suddenly fascinated by the former. The butterfly girl flees to the other side of Paris and disappears.

Ladybug (intrigued and blushing): What a strange girl.

The End

*Cat Noir

Bonuses:

Chrysabug kiss scene.

Ladybug and Chrysalis take the hide on an alley away from the public.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous au #miraculous fanfic #sketch #ladybug #chrysalis #marinette dupain cheng #lila rossi/cerise #chrysabug #cerisette #lilanette #my art #my writing

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leebrontide · 4 months

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I suspect this isn't a normal way of developing character designs for a comic, and I KNOW this isn't a normal way of developing designs for a cast of characters for a prose story.

But this is where I'm starting to develop the appearance of my characters from the body horror mecha novel I'm starting to fiddle around with with my wife, tentatively titled Carapace and Chrysalis.

We couldn't resist a sendup to the old Sentai shows, so we have divvied up our mecha pilots by color- red, yellow, blue, black, pink and green.

So I started off with uniform colors, but since it's not a happy story I wanted to rotate off regular primary colors a bit. I went a bit vintage printing, a bit natural stone...I wanted fairly grounded versions of these colors. From there I added skintone, eye color, hair color, and an accent color, and tweaked everything to give the cast a cohesive look, as if this was for animation.

Just like with Names in Their Blood, I do intend to make a bunch of art for Carapace and Chrysalis, to show you all online. I don't intend to animate, because animating multi-armed, strangely-shaped, insect-informed mecha is far beyond where I expect my animation skills to ever reach.

But it will be nice to design some characters that are more obviously inspired by their genres, since most of my Names in their Blood cast look quite ordinary.

I'm gonna have to remember how to draw old school anime style, at least a bit.

So, here is the introduction of Xanthe, Claret, Sini, Rossa, Varjo and Chloe. Aren't they lovely?

#writeblr #writing #wip #Carapace and Chrysalis

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yandereponies · 2 years

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Yandere Chrysalis x Reader Headcanons

Possible trigger warnings for: hypnosis, kidnapping, very slightly implied NSFW, and general yandere themes (obviously)

- Chrysalis found you at one of your lowest points. There was something about you that made her feel something she had never felt before, not to this extent at least and certainly not about a pony. It wasn’t love, but pure obsession.

- She thought you were absolutely stunning, and your personality was perfect as well. There wasn’t a thing about you to dislike, except perhaps the fact that you weren’t actively serving her right then and there.

- Chrysalis wouldn’t like the fact that she’s so obsessed with you. How unbecoming of a Queen, to be obsessed to such a degree with someone who wasn’t even of royal status. But she couldn’t help it.

- She would daydream about you constantly, and all the things she wanted to do to you. It would seriously get in the way of her plotting. How is she meant to take over other kingdoms when thoughts of you kept getting in the way?

- Eventually she would have enough, and give in to these desires. She wants you, and she will have you. You will belong to her, no matter what it takes. She doesn’t care anymore what others may think of her obsession. She needs you. Now.

- Chrysalis would send some of her changelings out to find you and bring you to her. They would disguise themselves as ponies, unsuspecting by all standards. You would meet them on your way home from the store, they would claim to be hurt or lost, and you would do your best to help them - only to be lured away where nopony could see and be captured by them.

- You’d wake up unable to move, surrounded by darkness and caverns. Suddenly you can make out the dark, tall figure of someone approaching you. It’s her, Queen Chrysalis.

- Panic fills you and try to move again, and only now realize what you had previously thought to be some kind of rope was actually changeling goo. Chrysalis laughs as you struggle, thinking it’s just adorable. She gently placed a hoof against your face, stroking it gently and turning your head to look at her. You do.

- “Be still, my pet. Just relax, all that horrible fear will be gone soon,” she’d say with a smirk, before her horn lights up green and suddenly you feel a lot better.

- Now that you’ve stopped struggling, Chrysalis frees you of your binds and you stand up. But you don’t want to run. Any idea of running has left your mind, all that remains is a desire to please your Queen. Whatever she wants, that’s all you want to do.

- From then on Chrysalis would keep you by her side at all times, using you for whatever she pleases whenever she pleases. Her focus is a lot better now that you’re actually with her. She will never, ever let you go. The only time you’re apart is when she’s out trying to take over some kingdom. She’d love to have you with her then too, but you’re safer back in the hive. She wouldn’t need to tie you up while she’s gone, because after her spell, you have no desire to leave anyway.

- The idea of feeding off your love and taking it all for herself is tempting, but she likes the way you react when she touches you, and she’s worried that a loveless husk of your former self wouldn’t be anywhere near as fun of a toy as you are now, so she refrains.

- She would keep you well fed and taken care of, for the most part. She wants you to live as long as possible, after all. Preferably forever, so you could serve her for all eternity. Chrysalis may even try to find a spell that would allow you to live as long as she will, so that she’ll never have to spend a day without you.

- You’re her favorite toy. Her pet. And her slave, all in one. And you’ll never have a life outside of her ever again.

#mlp #my little pony #queen chrysalis #yandere #queen chrysalis x reader #yandere x reader #yandere queen chrysalis #yandere queen chrysalis x reader #mlp x reader #my little pony x reader #luna writes

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lemonthepotato · 5 months

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Opaline Arcana Icons ☆*:.

“Don’t ask me to be nice I don’t want to,

I don’t play fair.”

#opaline arcana #my little pony #mlpg5 #she’s so girlbossy <3 #she’s not that deep but don’t act like chrysalis was the peak of deep character writing #it’s my little pony #not like. uh.#idk some deep shit #Umineko that’s deep #my little pony? no #but yeah I get y’alls points #I just don’t know…#anyway. my mbti obsession is causing me pain.#fe or fi? what am iiii?#ne or ni??? se or siii?? te or teaaa?#yes #I pronounce them like fay fee nay nii say sea #meow

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ashleyfableblack · 7 months

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A bit of graphite love for Big Mama Bughorse. Because If any creature knows how to get your nerd-girls motor running, it's gonna be Queen Chrysalis Sparkle.

From the pages of "How To Entice Your Nerd Girl" by Queen Chrysalis Sparkle-

"...and never, I repeat myself, Never underestimate the value of both simple black thigh stockings and whether or not you are wearing underwear. Even among species with no concept of a nudity taboo or even a concept of gender, binary or otherwise. Take it from a creature who has literally been every species on the planet. Silly as it may seem this one technique will make or break your game at getting a hoof in the door.

Also- as absolutely ludicrous as this may sound, no matter what you do, learn which one they prefer before you say it- 'Trek-kie' or 'Trek-ker'. Open the conversation in a vague but energetic manner about your interest in the series. Mention 'The Lore'. Hint around it. Get them to talking, what cons they've been to, what fandom meet-ups they enjoy. Their opinion on what is or isn't canon. However you have to do it. Be as discreetly manipulative of the conversation as possible but make certain you hear them say whichever one they use before you do. It will usually be some version of "Well, I don't consider myself to be a Trekkie\Trekker per se but..." This one simple trick may save your life, much less your chances at romance."

The Eternal Courtship. Love never dies. It only changes form. 👭💚💜💚👭

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worldbuildingwanderlust · 4 months

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Too much light

Will destroy the chrysalis

So embrace

Darkness

And the metamorphic

Power

Of slumber

#my writing #poetry #poem #spiritual journey #spiritual growth #light #darkness #rest #metamorphosis #chrysalis #change #transformation #creative writing #spilled ink #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #writers and poets #quick write

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abbygraceasd · 3 months

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The Christmas Invasion

somehow didn't post this to Tumblr? anyways here

“London… The Powell Estate… 24th of December… 2005… On the way to Earth! Now then… what do I look like? No, no no, no no no no nono no. No. Don’t tell me. Let’s see… two legs, two arms, two hands… Slight weakness in the dorsal tubercle. Hair! I’m not bald! Oh, oh! Big hair! Sideburns, I’ve got sideburns! Or really bad skin. Little bit thinner… That’s weird. Give me time, I’ll get used to it. I… have got… a mole. I can feel it. Between my shoulder blades, there’s a mole. That’s all right. Love the mole. Go on then, tell me. What do you think?” He asks.

“Is this how your regenerations go every time?” I ask, “Explosive?”

“No, that’s just when something happens beforehand.” He says.

“Okay.” I nod, walking towards him.

He watches me stand in front of him.

“They’re definitely sideburns.” I tell him, placing my hands on either side of his face.

“What do you think?” He whispers.

“I think it’ll take some time for me to get used to not looking at your last face, but this one is definitely a nice one. What do you think?” I run my thumb over his cheek tenderly.

He leans into my touch, “I think, I like having you this close.”

I let out a giggle, “You’re definitely more open about your feelings in this body than the last one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He pouts.

“It means, I never knew you cared until you sent me away.” I whisper.

“Of course, I care about you, I-” He pauses, “Ooh, the change seems to be going a bit wrong…” He stumbles out of my grip.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

He goes to the console and does something, “I haven’t used this one in years.”

The Tardis lurches, “What’re you doing?!” I shout.

“Putting on a bit of speed! That’s it! My beautiful ship! Come on, faster! That’s a girl! Faster! Wanna break the time limit?!”

“Stop it!”

“Ah, don’t be so dull… let’s have a bit of fun! Let’s rip through that vortex!” He looks at me, “The regeneration’s going wrong. I can’t stop myself. Ah, my head…” He turns back to the console, “Faster! Let’s open those engines!”

The Tardis groans, “What’s that?”

“We’re gonna crash land!”

“Well then, do something!”

“Too late! Out of control! Oh, I love it!” He cheers.

I scream as sparks shoot out of the console, “Doctor! I’m scared!”

He seems to snap out of it, staring at me. He stumbles over and pulls me into a hug.

I cling to him, whimpering, he strokes my hair before pulling away, still holding me.

He stares deep into my tear-filled eyes and leans down, pressing his lips to mine.

My eyes flutter shut, my hands leaving his jumper and going to his hair. His hands place themselves on my waist and curl into the fabric of my jacket. I whimper against his mouth, pulling on his hair. His tongue finds its way into my mouth, tangling with mine.

I don’t notice the shaking anymore.

His lips leave mine and I attempt to link them again but he starts to trail them down my neck. I moan quietly, and he nips the skin at the pulse of my throat. Heat forms in the pit of my stomach, my hands move to grip his shoulders as he moves his hands to my front and undoes the belt of my jacket.

My jacket leaves my body, and he kneels slightly to pick me up by my thighs.

Gasping out, his lips find mine again.

His lips soon travel down to the tops of my breasts, sucking a hickey into the left one and leaving a bite mark on the right.

I don’t hear the doors open, but I do hear the shouts, “What the hell?!”

The Doctor and I pull away from each other quickly. He sets me down and stumbles towards Mickey and Jackie. Rose runs past him and hugs me tightly.

“Jackie! Mickey! Blimey! No, no, no, no, hold on.” He stumbles backward a few steps, “Wait there, I’ve got something to say. There was something I had to tell you. Something important, what was it? No, hold on, hold on…” He comes back to them and puts his hands on their shoulders, “Hold on, shush, shush, shush, shush… Oh!”

The two jump in alarm.

“I know!” He looks from one to the other, panting and beaming, “Merry Christmas!” And then he collapses, falling to the ground unconscious.

“Who even is that?” Rose asks.

“The Doctor, he regenerated.” I run over to him and check for a pulse, “I don’t know how to explain it.” I find one so I stand up and smile at them.

“Hello.”

The Doctor is tucked up in my bed, wearing a pair of stripy pajamas. I am sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his hand. Rose stands at the end of the bed.

Jackie enters, holding a stethoscope, she hands it to me, “Here we go. Tina the Cleaner’s got this lodger, medical student. And she was fast asleep, so I just took it.”

I put the stethoscope in my ears. I ignore what Rose says to Jackie. I place it on one side of his chest. Hearing a steady heartbeat I switch it to the other side and hear the same, “Both working.”

“What d’you mean ‘both’?” She asks.

“Well, he’s got two hearts.”

“Oh, don’t be stupid.”

Rose walks to the door, “He has!”

Jackie eyes him, “Anything else he’s got two of?”

I turn to her, “Leave him alone.”

The blondes leave the room.

I brush the hair out of his face and press a kiss to his forehead. His mouth opens and golden wisps escape, flying into the air. I lift my hand and some of it flies in between my fingers, circle my wrist and into my skin. The rest of the golden energy flies out the window.

Warmth envelops both sides of my chest.

I leave the room and go into the living room, “Is that Harriet Jones?”

Jackie answers me, “She’s Prime Minister now. I’m eighteen quid a week better off.”

I smile.

“They’re calling it ‘Britain’s Golden Age’. Keep on saying, ‘my girls have met her.’”

“Did more than that. Stopped World War Three with her. Harriet Jones.”

They’re asking her questions about the Guinevere One Space Probe.

“You two were all over one another in there.” Rose teases me as we walk down the street.

“Shut up!” I whine, face heating up.

“If we hadn’t of shown up when we did, how far would you have gone?” Mickey wiggles his eyebrows at me.

“I don’t know…” I mumble.

I look behind me, distracted as Rose and Mickey talk about Jackie.

There is a brass band of masked Santas, who are playing ‘Good Tidings of Comfort and Joy’. I stare at them for a long time, sensing something is wrong. Suddenly, their trumpets are revealed to be flame throwers, blue flames shoot out of them, and people run around screaming. We duck behind a stall.

“It’s us! They’re after us!”

The Santas blast the stall we’re hiding behind, I scream. We run, the Santas pursuing us. One of the blasts catches the enormous Christmas tree instead, and it falls to the ground on top of one of the Santas. We run down the street.

“What’s going on? What’ve we done? Why are they after us?”

A taxi pulls up and we clamber in.

“They’re after the Doctor.” I say.

“I can’t even go shopping with you. We get attacked by a brass band.”

The taxi drives off, Rose calls someone.

“Who you calling?” I ask.

“Mum.”

The taxi pulls up and we jump out, running towards the flats.

We burst inside, Jackie’s still on the phone.

“Get off the phone!” Rose shouts.

I run into my room and check on the Doctor. He’s still asleep.

Soon Rose and Jackie run into my room followed shortly by Mickey.

Mickey and Jackie slide my wardrobe in front of the door while Rose bends over the Doctor and shouts at him.

I grab the sonic screwdriver out of the Doctor’s leather jacket. I place it in his hand and whisper, “Help me.”

The Doctor sits up very suddenly and points his sonic screwdriver at the murderous Christmas tree. It explodes.

The Doctor lowers the sonic screwdriver, “Remote control. But who’s controlling it?” He gets out of bed.

We all go out on the balcony. Outside on the ground stand three of the Santas.

“That’s them. What are they?” Mickey asks.

Rose shushes him.

I stare at the Doctor, who raises his sonic screwdriver and points it at the Santas threateningly. They back away, standing closer to each other. Then, they teleport away.

“They’ve just gone! What kind of rubbish were they? I mean, no offense, but they’re not much cop if a sonic screwdriver’s gonna scare them off.”

“Pilot Fish.” The Doctor says.

“What?” I ask.

We all look at him.

“They were just Pilot Fish.” He coughs and throws himself backward against the wall.

I kneel in front of him, “I’m sorry. I woke you up too soon.” I apologize.

He breathes heavily, “I’m still regenerating. I’m bursting with energy.” More gold energy escapes through his mouth and goes into my skin, “You see? The Pilot Fish could smell it a million miles away. So they eliminate the defense, that’s you lot, and they carry me off. They could run their batteries on me for a couple of years.” He lurches forward groaning.

I kneel in front of him, holding him up, tears in my eyes, “I’m sorry.”

He smiles at me through his pain, “Don’t be, you did the right thing.”

“We haven't got much time. If there’s Pilot Fish, then…” He takes an apple out of his dressing gown pocket, “Why’s there an apple in my dressing gown?”

“Oh, that’s Howard, sorry.”

“He keeps apples in his dressing gown?” “He gets hungry.”

The Doctor looks at the apple, “What, he gets hungry in his sleep?” “Sometimes.”

He suddenly shouts with pain again and sinks to the floor.

He grimaces, “Brain… collapsing…”

He grabs hold of my arms, holding them tightly, “The Pilot Fish. The Pilot Fish mean… that something, something…” He takes a deep breath, “Something’s coming.” He collapses into my lap.

I kneel next to the Doctor on my bed, tucking him in and mopping his forehead with a cloth. He is restless and sweaty. Tears fill my eyes and I choke back a sob. I sit at the side of the bed with my head in between my knees.

I enter the living room and sit on the arm of a chair, drying my eyes.

“Any change?” Jackie asks.

I take a shaky breath in, “Just one heart beating.”

I ignore the conversation Rose and Mickey are having in favor of staring at the tv.

There is a distorted image on the tv screen.

“Funny sort of rocks.” Jackie says.

“Those aren’t rocks.”

The image becomes clearer. It’s an alien, roaring viciously.

“Abby.” Mickey says, “Take a look, I’ve got access to the military. They’re tracking a spaceship. It’s big, it’s fast, and it’s coming this way.”

I peer over at the computer from the edge of the chair.

“Coming for what, though? The Doctor?” Rose asks.

An image of four of the aliens comes onto the screen.

“You seen them before?” He asks.

Rose and I both shake our heads.

“People, you belong to us. To the Sycorax. We own you. We now possess your land, your minerals, your precious stones. You will surrender or they will die. Sycorax strong, Sycorax mighty, Sycorax rock.”

“I don’t understand what they’re saying.” Rose says.

“I can.” I tell them, confused as to why I understand but they don’t. I then repeat what the Sycorax said to them.

I look up from where I lay next to the Doctor and to Rose.

“The Doctor wouldn’t do this. The old Doctor. The proper Doctor. He’d wake up. He’d save us.”

I glare at Rose, “It’s not his fault, don’t try to blame him for it.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, she’s never heard me speak like that, not to her at least.

Jackie smiles softly, “You really do love him, don’t you?”

I nod, “How could I not?”

There’s yelling from outside.

I go out and see Sandra yelling at her husband.

“Sandra?” I ask.

“He won’t listen. He’s just walking. He won’t stop walking! There’s this sort of light thing.” She follows after him, “Stop it! Right now! Jason, please!”

Rose and Mickey come to the door. There's hundreds of people, from all over the estate walking. They all move in the same direction, none of them respond to the frightened and confused calls of their families, they just keep walking.

“It’s the aliens doing it.” My eyes move up to the sky, “They’re all heading to the roof.”

We all run up the stairwell, going to the roof.

All of the mind-controlled people stop at the very edge, and from where I stand I can see thousands of people standing at the edge of any high surface they can find, awaiting orders.

“What do we do?” Mickey asks.

“Nothing. There’s no one to save us, not anymore.” Rose mutters.

“We’ll think of something.” I tell him.

Rose shoots me a sharp look, “Abby, we can’t do anything! In case you haven’t noticed, the Doctor’s gone!”

I stare at her, “My life isn’t defined by the Doctor. I don’t need to listen to his every idea or follow his every order. I’m my own person and I’ll find a way, on my own if I have to.” I turn and go back to the flat.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may take a moment during this terrible time. It’s hardly the Queen’s speech, I’m afraid that’s been canceled. This crisis is unique, and I’m afraid to say it might get much worse. I would ask you all to remain calm. But I have one request.” Harriet takes a breath, “Doctor? If you’re out there, we need you. I don’t know what to do. If you can hear me Doctor, if anyone knows the Doctor, if anyone can find him, the situation has never been more desperate. Help us. Please, Doctor, help us.”

Rose cries out loudly, clutching her mother.

I jump up, staring at her, “The Doctor isn’t gone, and he isn’t leaving us, he’s regenerating. He can’t help us right now, but we’ll figure something out.”

The windows smash, showering the floor with glass. The ground shakes violently.

We run outside and watch the spaceship float into view, obscuring the sun.

Rose stares at it for a few seconds before running back inside.

“Mickey, we’re gonna carry him.” She throws the duvet off of him, “Mum, get your stuff, and some food. We’re going.”

“Well, where to?” Mickey asks.

“The Tardis.” I respond, “It’s the only safe place on Earth.”

“What’re we gonna do in there?!” Jackie asks.

“Hide.” Rose answers.

“Is that it?” I ask.

“Abby, look in the sky. There’s a great big alien invasion and the Doctor’s kaput. Now, all we can do is run and hide. Now, move.”

Jackie exits the room. I watch Rose and Mickey take the Doctor out the front door.

I help Jackie take several shopping bags into the Tardis.

“No chance you could fly this thing?” Mickey asks.

“Not anymore, no.” I shake my head.

“But, you did it before…” Rose looks confused.

“I know, but it’s been wiped out of my head like it’s forbidden.” I watch them set the Doctor down on the floor, “Try that again and the universe might rip in half.”

“Ah, better not then.” Rose says.

“So, what do we do? Just sit here?” Mickey asks.

Rose glares at him, “That’s as good as it gets.”

Jackie walks up to us with a thermal flask, “Right, here we go. Nice cup of tea.”

“Hmm, the solution to everything…” Rose says sarcastically.

“Now, stop your moaning. I’ll get the rest of the food.” Jackie then exits the Tardis.

I lay down next to the Doctor on the floor, holding his hand.

“How does this thing work?” Mickey looks at the Tardis computer, “It picks up TV, maybe we could see what’s going on out there. Maybe we’ve surrendered.” He presses a few buttons, “What do you do to it?”

“I don't know, it sort of tunes itself.” I mumble, looking at the ceiling.

I turn on my side and curl into the Doctor, ignoring the conversation happening until I hear Rose scream.

I jump to my feet and run out of the Tardis with Mickey, making sure to close the door behind me.

The Sycorax yells with glee.

Harriet Jones stumbles towards us, “Abby, Rose.” She embraces us, “The Doctor… is he with you?”

I shake my head, “No.”

The Sycorax all let out screeches and hisses of what sound like confusion as they all begin to point at the Tardis, a golden wisp of energy comes out and circles around me before absorbing into my skin.

One of the Sycorax grumbles something and suddenly I am being restrained. Harsh hands grip my arms cruelly as I am dragged forward. I get shoved forward and into the grasp of the leader.

“The yellow girl,” He speaks loudly, pulling me with him as he walks forward and points at Rose, “She has the clever blue box. But she does not speak for the planet. The brown one, the golden light shows she is in charge, she will speak for the planet.”

The humans in the room stare at him in shock. I shut my eyes tightly.

I take a deep breath, and open my eyes, “Are you familiar with the Shadow Proclamation?”

The Sycorax looks confused, but nods.

I smirk, “Well, in that case, I seek audience with the Sycorax under a peaceful contract. According to convention 15 of the Shadow Proclamation. Meaning you may not kill any humans on Earth, or this ship until the Parley is over.”

Shouts of anger echo around me.

“You think you are clever with your stolen words?” The leader snarls, “We are the Sycorax. We stride through the darkness. Next to us, you are but a wailing child. If you are the best your planet can offer as a champion… Then your world will be gutted… and you’re people enslaved.”

The humans all start saying something about the Sycorax speaking English.

“If he’s speaking Sycoraxic but you can hear English, that means the Tardis is translating.” I say.

Rose laughs, “Oh, he’s going to be very angry that you touched her.” Suddenly, the doors of the Tardis open and reveal the Doctor.

In an instant, his eyes are on me, “She’s right, I am very angry.” Then a smirk appears on his face, “Did you miss me?” I smile brightly, “Always.”

The Sycorax flings his whip forward. With a glare, the Doctor yanks the whip out of the Sycorax’s hands as soon as it wrapped around his arm and mutters, “You could take someone’s eye out with that!”

“How dare…” The Sycorax snarls as the Doctor strides over to him.

The Doctor grabs the long, crimson staff from the alien’s hands and snaps it over his knee, glaring.

‘Fuck that’s hot.’ I think.

He then grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him, arm secure and protective around me.

I smile up at him, “Hello, honey.”

He smiles back, “Hello, beautiful.” then his sharp brown eyes look back at the Sycorax leader and snaps, “You just can’t get the staff! Now you, just wait! We’re busy.”

Without bothering to look back, he leads me over to our friends.

Rose flings her arms around me.

“Mickey, hello! And Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North. Blimey, it’s like ‘This Is Your Life.’” The Doctor laughs, “Tea! That’s all I needed! A good cup of tea! Superheated infusion of free radicals and tannin. Just the thing for healing the synapses…” He lowers his voice, looking into my eyes, “Now… be honest. How do I look?”

“Different.” I say.

“Good different or bad different?” He asks.

“Good different.” I grin.

He looks dead serious, “Am I… ginger?”

I look at his hair, “No, it’s just brown.”

The Doctor turns away, “Aww, I wanted to be ginger. I’ve never been ginger.” He then turns back around and points at Rose, “Fat lot of good you were, you gave up on me, oh, that’s rude. That’s the sort of man I am now, am I? Rude. Rude and not ginger.”

Harriet looks at him confused, “I’m sorry, who is this?”

“I’m the Doctor.”

“He’s the Doctor.”

“But what happened to my Doctor? Or is it just a title that’s passed on?” She asks.

He walks towards her, “I’m him. I’m literally him. Same man, new face, well, new everything.”

“But you can’t be.” Her brow furrows.

“Harriet Jones. We were trapped in Downing Street, and the one thing that scared you wasn’t the aliens… wasn’t the war… it was the thought of your mother being on her own.” He says.

“Oh, my god.”

“Did you win the election?” He asks curiously.

She smiles, rather pleased, “Landslide majority.”

“If I might interrupt!” We all spin around, having forgotten about him.

“Yes! Sorry! Hello, big fella!” The Doctor smiles.

“Who exactly are you?” The Sycorax leader asks.

“Well. That’s the question.”

“I demand to know who you are!” The Sycorax leader shouts.

The Doctor imitates him, “I DON’T KNOW!” He relaxes, “See there’s the thing. I’m the Doctor, but beyond that, I… I just don’t know. I literally do not know who I am. It’s all untested.” He walks around, “Am I funny? Am I sarcastic?” He looks at me with a wink, “Sexy?”

I smile shyly.

He continues, “Right old misery? Life and soul? Right-handed? Left-handed? A gambler? A fighter? A coward? A traitor? A liar? A nervous wreck?”

“You’ve certainly got a mouth on you.” I say. “Yeah, but you love it.” He winks before noticing the button, “And how am I gonna react when I see this?” He points at the button with an insane smile, “A great big threatening button.” He pulls me up the stairs, laughing, “A great big threatening button which must not be pressed under any circumstances.”

“Looks like some sort of control matrix. I bet it’s a blood type, judging from how all those people went to the roof.” I say.

The Doctor nods, bending down and pulling open a small door in order to access the controls underneath the button, dipping his finger in the blood and tasting it, “A Positive. Clever girl.”

I grin at him.

“But that means… blood control.” He seems delighted at this, “Blood control! Oh! I haven’t seen blood control for years! You’re controlling all the A Positives!”

The Sycorax’s grimace falters slightly. The Doctor continues, “Which leaves us with a great big problem. ‘Cos… I really don’t know who I am. I don’t know when to stop. So if I see a great big threatening button which should never ever be pressed… then I just wanna do this.” He whacks the button.

The humans in the room protest, but I trust the Doctor.

I turn to the Sycorax leader, “What do you think, big guy? Are they dead?”

“We allow them to live.” He says.

“Allow?” The Doctor scoffs, “You’ve got no choice! I mean, that’s all blood control is. Cheap bit of voodoo. Scares the pants off you, but that’s as far as it goes. It’s like hypnosis… you can hypnotize someone to walk like a chicken or sing like Elvis, you can’t hypnotize them to death. Survival instinct’s too strong.”

“Blood control was just one form of conquest. I can summon the armada and take this world by force.”

“Well, yeah, you could, yeah, you could do that, of course you could. But why? Look at these people.” He gestures to the humans, “These human beings. Consider their potential. From the day they arrive on the planet and blinking step into the sun. there is more to see than can ever be seen. More to do than… no, hold on…” He pauses, “Sorry, that’s ‘The Lion King’. But the point still stands. Leave them alone!”

“Or what?”

“Or…” He grabs a sword from one of the Sycorax guarding the humans, pulls me down the steps, pushes me over to Rose, stands in the empty floor space in front of the Tardis, and raises it into the air, “I challenge you.” The Sycorax burst out laughing.

“Oh, that struck a chord. Am I right that the sanctified rules of combat still apply?”

The Sycorax leader walks down the steps and unsheathes his sword, “You stand as this world’s champion.”

The Doctor shrugs his dressing gown off, “Thank you. I’ve no idea who I am, but you just summed me up.” He tosses it to me, “So… you accept my challenge? Or you just a cranak pel casacree salvak?”

The Sycorax Leader hisses. They both kneel by their swords.

“For the planet?”

“For the planet.”

They stand up and face each other, holding their swords at the ready. They then run at each other and begin to fight. After a few seconds, the Doctor is thrown aside, and the Sycorax Leader laughs. The Doctor straightens himself up and they begin to fight again. The Sycorax leader swings his sword at the Doctor.

The Doctor leads the fight up the stairs, “Bit of fresh air?” He hits a button and a door opens, leading to a platform on the outside of the spaceship.

They continue their fight. All the humans and a few Sycorax follow them. The swash-buckling continues. The Sycorax Leader manages to catch the Doctor slightly on his nose, and he groans.

I move to run forward, but the Doctor raises a hand to stop me, “Stay back! Invalidate the challenge and he wins the planet.”

He wipes his nose, and he and the Sycorax Leader run toward each other, clashing swords. They both grimace with effort, and the Doctor is knocked backwards to the ground. Taking advantage, the Sycorax Leader slashes at the Doctor’s wrist, succeeding in chopping his hand off, up to the elbow. It falls off the side of the spaceship, sword and all.

The Doctor watches it drop, and looks back at the Sycorax Leader, rather stunned and annoyed, “You cut my hand off.”

The Sycorax Leader speaks triumphantly, “Yah! Sycorax!”

The Doctor gets to his feet, “And now I know what sort of man I am. I’m lucky. ‘Cos quite by chance… I’m still within the first fifteen hours of my regeneration cycle. Which means i’ve got just enough residual cellular energy… to do this.”

He holds up his stump of an arm, and before everyones eyes, it grows right back.

“Witchcraft.” The Leader accuses.

“Time Lord.”

I take one of the Sycorax’s swords out of its sheath, “Doctor!”

He turns and I toss it to him.

He catches it by the handle and spins it around, turning back to the Sycorax leader, “Wanna know the best bit? This new hand…” He uses a texan accent, “It’s a fightin’ hand!”

The Doctor runs at the Sycorax Leader, and the fight commences once more. They clash swords for a few more moments, then the Doctor jabs him hard in the stomach with the handle of the sword.

The onlookers wince, and the Sycorax Leader groans. The Doctor does the same twice more, causing the Sycorax Leader to fall to the ground.

The Doctor points his sword at his throat, “I win.”

The Leader speaks with difficulty, “Then kill me.”

“I’ll spare your life if you’ll take this champion’s command: leave this planet, and never return. What do you say?”

“Yes.”

The Doctor jabs the sword closer and speaks angrily, “Swear on the blood of your species.”

“I swear.”

He speaks much lighter, “There we are, then! Thanks for that! Cheers, big fella!” He stabs the sword into the ground.

Harriet claps, “Bravo!”

I run forward, “That says it all, bravo!”

“Yeah! Not bad for a man in his jim-jams!” He speaks as I help him into the dressing gown.

“Very Arthur Dent. Now, there was a nice man. Hold on, what have I got in here?” He pulls a satsuma out of his pocket.

I laugh.

“A satsuma. Ah, that friend of your mothers, he does like his snacks doesn’t he? But doesn’t that just sum up Christmas?” We begin to walk back to the door. The Doctor throws the satsuma into the air and catches it again, “You go through all those presents and right at the end, tucked away at the bottom, there’s always one stupid old satsuma. Who wants a satsuma?”

There’s a roar from behind us, and the Doctor throws the satsuma at a switch on the side of the ship. I turn around and watch the Sycorax leader fall off the ship.

“No second chances. I’m that sort of man.”

The Doctor stands in front of the Tardis with me and the others.

He adresses the remaining Sycorax, “By the ancient rites of combat, I forbid you to scavenge here for the rest of time. And when you go back tot he stars and tell others of this planet… when you tell them of its riches, its people, its potential. Whe you talk of the Earth, make shure that you tell them this: It is defended.”

We then get teleported back to Earth.

“Where are we?” I ask.

“We’re just off Bloxom Road. We’re just round the corner, we did it!” Mickey laughs, jumping up and down in glee.

The Doctor holds his hand out as the spaceship engines start up, “Wait a minute… wait a minute…”

The ship takes flight, back to the skies. The Doctor grins.

Mickey, Rose and I celebrate.

I see Jackie coming down the street and run over to hug her. “Oh my god! You did it! My girls! Oh!”

“You did it too! It was the tea! Fixed his head!” I say.

“That was all I needed, cup of tea.” The Doctor smiles.

“I said so!”

Jackie then notices Harriet, “Oh my god! It’s the bleeding Prime Minister!”

“Come here, you.” The Doctor holds his arms out to Jackie, who throws her arms around him. Rose, Mickey and I join in the group hug.

We all jump as a beam of green light shoots loudly up from the ground nearby. The same green light beams up from another four points, and the five points meet in the middle. The energy shoots up into space and hits the spaceship, destroying it.

“What is that? What’s happening?” I ask.

The Doctor walks off and talks to Harriet before coming back to us. She yells after him, but he ignores her, so we do the same as we walk off.

Mickey, Rose, Jackie and I are preparing Christmas Dinner. Mickey is carving the turkey and Rose serves the sprouts at the table. I look up and see the Doctor standing in front of me in a brown suit and brown jacket.

I let out a scream as the Christmas cracker I pulled with the Doctor bangs. He wins but still gives me the cracker.

“Oh, that’s yours…” He says as I pull out the pink paper party crown out of the cracker.

“Pink! Lovely!” I giggle as I put the hat on.

Rose points to the television, “Look, it’s Harriet Jones!”

We all turn to look at the television.

The phone rings and Jackie goes into the kitchen to answer it, “It’s Beth. She says go and look outside.”

“Why?” I ask.

“I dunno, just go outside and look. Come on, shift!”

We all get up and go outside.

There are lots of others outside too, as it appears to be snowing. It looks like there are meteors in the sky.

“What are those, meteors?” I ask.

“It’s the spaceship breaking up in the atmosphere. This isn’t snow, it’s ash.” He explains.

I wince, “Eesh.”

“This is a brand new planet Earth. No denying the existence of aliens now, everyone saw it. Everything’s new.” He says.

I turn to the Doctor, “And what about you? What are you gonna do next?”

“Well… back to the Tardis… same old life.” He looks down at me, “You’ll come along though, right?”

I grin, “Of course. As long as you’ll have me.”

Rose steps next to us, “Got room for me still?”

We both look at her, then back at each other, and nod.

“Of course.”

“Well, I recon you’re mad. The three of you. It’s like you go looking for trouble.”

The Doctor rushes up to her, “Trouble’s just the bits in-between.” He puts an arm around her and looks up at the sky, “It’s all waiting out there, Jackie. It’s brand new to me.”

I smile at him.

“All those planets… creaturs and horizons… I haven’t seen them yet! Not with these eyes…” He stands beside me, “And it is gonna be… fantastic.”

I smile at the use of his old catchphrase and he grins back. He holds his hand out to me.

I take his hand and we look up at the sky for a few moments.

I step closer to him and brush the ash off his arm, “So, where’re we gonna go first?”

“Um… that way.” He points deliberately at a point in the night sky, “No, hold on… that way.” He points a smidgen to the right of his first point.

I point in the same direction, “That way?”

He looks at me, “Hmm?”

I nod, “Yeah. that way.”

We smile at each other for a few seconds then gaze up at the night-sky, hand in hand.

#doctor who x reader #tenth doctor x reader #autistic writer #chrysalis story #autistic!reader #doctor who x oc #tenth doctor x oc #my writing

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chrysalis-the-butterfly · 3 months

Text

Katya: A Poem

"Goncharov" is a 1973 Martin Scorsese film that Tumblr collectively invented in 2022. I'd heard of it, but didn't take too much interest in it. It was only recently that I found out that "Goncharov" had a sapphic ship, between Katya and Sofia. That was what piqued my interest.

In a flurry of activity, I wrote a poem.

I am indebted to all the Tumblr bloggers who came before me, whose creations were captured in this "Goncharov" master doc and this collection of quotes. I hope you enjoy the poem I strung together from your posts!

If you reblog this, make sure to add the tags #unreality and #unrealism so people who would find it triggering don't see it. Remember to Gonch responsibly!

Yekaterina Mikhailova.

That was my name.

It was a name that meant nothing,

because I was nothing.

My father’s daughter,

my brother’s sister.

For a time, we were rich.

Then our father received a visit from his co-workers

in the mafia.

He came between them

and his daughter.

He died with a smile on his face.

For the next three years, we were poor.

My brother and I,

living – no, merely surviving –

together on the streets,

made a resolution:

never again would we fall so low.

Never again would we be so weak.

So penniless.

So worthless.

We tracked down our uncle.

Thanks to him, we joined the mafia ourselves –

me first,

my brother later, more reluctantly.

He learnt not to question what I did,

no matter how much of a father

he wanted to be to me.

I only have one mother, one father, one brother, one uncle,

but I could trace a path

from Naples to my childhood home in Moscow

with the blood of all the men

who told me they loved me.

…

Later, I trained as a spy.

It was in that line of work that I found Lo Straniero.

The stranger.

He told me his real name was Leonid Goncharov.

I chose to believe him.

What is marriage,

but a way to escape the names of our fathers?

When I walked towards Goncharov

at the altar,

I thought that would be the moment

I would finally become someone

real enough

to have flesh and blood

to call mine.

Perhaps the name Yekaterina

wouldn’t sound so empty on my lips.

And with those same lips

I called his name,

and smiled at him in front of God,

and kissed him in the dark of our room.

And all I became was his wife.

A wedding is no different to a funeral,

is it not?

The old Yekaterina died to Goncharov that day;

he took my name from me,

my very history,

and I allowed him that.

My husband is a man who collects things he can use.

A pistol,

a pocket watch,

a woman’s love,

a wife.

My father would have needed me to marry,

so I did.

Goncharov would have needed me to love him,

so I did.

I truly did.

Oh, I was a good woman, wasn’t I?

A wife when he needed someone to bed,

a sister when he needed someone to argue with,

a mother when he needed to cry...

Is that all women were in his eyes?

Actors?

Pretty dolls to dress up and spin around

according to his needs?

No, I shouldn’t be so harsh.

It wasn’t his fault

he could only ever fall in love with men.

But the way he treated me?

That was his fault.

I needed a new place to exist.

I found you in the fruit stand.

…

Sofia Ambrosini.

That was your name.

With your serpent bracelet twinkling,

you stooped to pick up the fallen apple

that had escaped my basket

and rolled towards your leg –

the right one,

the one made of wood.

I recognised from your false leg

and your false snake

that you were in the same world as me –

the same world of murder

whose space we shared precariously.

But in that moment

we could be two women in a market

shopping for two men,

me my husband,

you your brother.

Because it’s so hard to make friends in a world of murder.

But here we were in public,

under the Sun,

and just for a while,

we could pretend we were women

who knew each other from …

somewhere.

Just making friends.

Just leading each other into temptation.

It was the apple’s fault.

It was the apple that made me bring up Adam and Eve.

There we so many strange apples at that market.

I imagined the wild way they looked

was how they looked in the Garden of Eden.

But then you said,

“I never understood why it had to be an apple.

Why an apple?”

I answered, “I don’t know.

Because it’s always been an apple, I suppose.

It’s easier to recreate in art.

All the painters and sculptors

and everyone else who makes those choices,

they all came together and decided

that an apple looks pretty simple –

nice, smooth, round,

easy enough to draw in a tree –

and now everyone sees nothing but apples

in the Tree of Knowledge

ever after.

So it’s always apples.”

I will never forget your response.

“The dullest possible produce.

The Forbidden Fruit is supposed to be

something unusual,

something special.

All the knowledge of the world

and of each other

and of the realisation

that these two fools are

running around the Garden

with their bottoms bare

in front of the Almighty.

An apple doesn’t seem right for that.

It’s dull.

It’s a thing for pastry and postcards.”

“What would you pick instead?” I asked.

“Pomegranates,” you said immediately. “No question.

It’s the fruit that the God of the Dead used

to trick the Goddess of Spring

into staying with him in the Underworld.

She tasted the seeds

and she was forced to stay down there

for half a year, every year,

forever.

A fruit so powerful

it can trap a goddess

seems like the kind of fruit

that can banish humanity from Paradise.”

We paused.

We made eye contact.

“Tastes better than apples, too,” you added.

And it looks like a jewel

when you split it open.”

I ate a pomegranate panna cotta

in the bistro later that day.

And when I licked my lips,

I immediately understood you.

I did like apples,

but pomegranates?

They were amazing.

I’d go to Hell for them.

I’d go to Hell for you.

…

“Oh, it’s six already?”

Goncharov said to me when I returned home.

“The clock’s broken,” I replied.

“It’s been six for hours.”

If only time would stop for us.

…

I was raised Orthodox,

but Goncharov and I had been attending a Catholic Mass

to better fit in with the locals.

I was unsettled by the topic of Father Gianni’s sermon:

the sins of the flesh,

the importance of resisting Earthly temptations,

and the necessity of self-control in this life,

thereby preparing for glories to come.

Were there any glories to come?

You, Sofia, got up to leave in the middle of the sermon,

heading for the stained-glass Virgin Mary,

and you whispered as you passed,

“Take your glories where you may.”

And like the fishermen who left their nets

to follow Jesus

and become fishers of men,

I got up

and followed you.

I did not know how my husband felt about me doing that.

I did not care.

I started partaking of apples and pomegranates

in equal measure.

…

Sofia, you told me you had never even touched a gun before.

But you were clearly too skilled

when those men cornered you

and you took them all down.

Admit it.

You just lied because

you wanted me to give you that “hands-on” shooting lesson,

didn’t you?

“Are we not all murderers in some way, Katya?”

you said to me when I challenged you.

“After all, a human being is a heart.

Break that, and how can it go on living?”

I had to ask,

“Don’t you have a broken heart, Sofia?”

“It still beats, Katya,” you said, quietly.

“It still beats.”

…

For me, it’s always been the darkness I liked;

the way the lights roll off the water between the alleyways

reminds me of the past.

…

You were adamant in your belief

that all memory is treachery.

But one of my favourite memories

was us together in my husband’s house,

after dinner at the casino,

me in my evening gown,

you dressed as a waiter.

You’d asked, “What’s your poison?”

I’d answered, “Whatever you’re having, darling.”

For the first time since moving to Naples,

I shook off the white furs

and showed you my dress –

the woman

under the animal.

“You look good in red,” you said to me.

Then you called me lisichka.

Little fox.

Which should have sounded wrong,

a Russian pet name in an Italian accent,

but that night it sounded right.

I returned the compliments.

“And you look good in green,

kukolka.”

Little doll.

I gave you one of my pearl necklaces.

“Every woman should be allowed

to feel like she is looked at

beautifully.”

My husband’s voice resounded in my head:

“Time isn’t like your pearls, Yekaterina.

You can’t buy more.

You think you can own time by wearing it,

but it just beats itself into your bones instead.”

Well, no-one can tell me what I can and can’t buy.

…

“If I were cursed, Sofia,

then I would never have found you.”

“You could still lose me.”

“Never.”

…

I started being Katya,

being myself,

not because I fell into my role as Goncharov’s wife,

but because I discovered my inability.

My unwillingness.

I knew he cared for me,

but not beyond the presentation we put on for his peers.

The peers who could end his life at any moment.

And it wouldn’t be so unbearable

if we were at least still friends,

but all of that went to Andrey –

the friendship, the love, the care –

at least as much as Goncharov was capable of

beyond his own inadequacies.

Andrey could not live loyally,

so let’s see how he does in death.

…

I didn’t want Goncharov’s name in your mouth.

I should have taken his money and left.

It’s not obvious why I didn’t.

All this time wandering the wreckage of his house –

I’m sorry, Sofia, it must have killed you.

“Unlike you,” you said to me,

“I do not lure to cannibalise.

I watch, and I starve.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well, stop it!

What do you take me for?

Stop watching and devour me in full already,

won’t you?”

So you did.

I must have looked like a jewel

when you split me open.

…

“I’ll stay with you tonight, if you’ll have me.”

“I wouldn’t have anyone else.”

I lay in bed with you.

We wanted to do so much,

but ended up doing so little.

I ran my foot up and down your leg –

the right one,

the one made of wood.

I thought of what I knew

(what little I knew)

about your past –

how your Jewish family came to Naples,

how you lost them somewhere,

how the Poor Clares took you in and cared for you,

how you searched for your family amidst the Nazis,

how you lost that leg in the riots.

“The world wants you dead,” I said,

more to myself than you.

You turned to me.

“Do you want me dead?”

I forced myself to meet your eyes.

“No.”

You shrugged.

“Then the world doesn’t want me dead.”

We stayed in bed together for a while after that.

…

We were always wasting time we never had.

How could I love something which was never there?

Oh, darling, that’s just grief.

Time is like blood,

and I have wasted both.

We could not go on forever,

could not fight the story,

could not step outside the marriage

or the mafia

or else.

We were animals,

and animals, whether wild or tamed,

cannot fight the inevitable.

“Time stops for no-one, Katya.

Not even us.”

…

“What’s on your mind?”

“Wishful thinking.”

“Sofia, I’m not cut out for the life you’re offering me.

That different life.

I am chained to my history –

a short chain.

That’s why I cannot leave with you.”

That’s why you and I

and my husband

and his lover

and your brother

and our enemies

are all in this boathouse.

November’s the cruellest month of the year,

and Naples is full of fools.

…

“Of course we’re in love!” I scream at Goncharov.

“That’s why I tried to shoot you!”

He laughs and cries at the same time.

“If we really were in love,

you wouldn’t have missed.”

He’s right.

Our love was a grenade,

and now all that remains is shrapnel.

He loved me, but only for a minute.

I don’t know if he could handle any more.

Love cannot be bought;

otherwise, we would have had a happy marriage.

When we got married, I drew this line

between us and the world.

He’s crossed that line,

and I can’t go with him.

He and I are,

I think,

finally out of time.

He has destroyed and betrayed himself

for nothing.

That is his worst sin.

My inability to be loyal to my husband

is what saved me.

And what now kills him.

What could now kill you, if you let it.

…

You are pleading with me.

“We can have the Forbidden Fruit

and it can be whatever we want!

Let it be a pomegranate!

Let us glut ourselves on it!

And why do we have to follow everyone else’s rules

about what is and isn’t forbidden, anyway?

None of us in this boathouse

are living within the law in the first place.

There is blood on everyone’s hands.

Can’t you and I sin a little sweeter?

Can’t you admit that the sin you want most

isn’t a sin at all?

Can’t you spit out the lies you’ve swallowed

in the Hell you found yourself in?

We could grow our own garden somewhere!”

No, Sofia.

This is my garden,

my Tree of Knowledge,

better the Devil I know,

and you wish you were my Serpent,

but this is my Underworld to rule

as much as any queen can rule there,

unhappy

but resigned.

Go, Eve.

Grow your garden alone.

The Forbidden Fruit is there to be eaten,

to force us to go,

to let us step outside the walls meant to keep us in.

But you just can’t make everyone eat.

The pomegranate is within my reach,

but I have lost my appetite for seeds.

…

I do what Goncharov would do,

and you know what that means.

Death.

Goncharov has never meant anything else.

I will die like my father,

with a smile on my face.

I will die for you.

You were once a little girl, alone and scared,

but that girl is long dead.

The Sofia that lives now?

The world should fear her.

Damn them as they would damn us.

But don’t you ever raise a hand to me.

…

Sofia, don’t cry.

There’s no use trying to rewrite the story now.

Sofia, get out of this boathouse.

Take my boat.

It’s fine.

I won’t need it anymore.

Go, zolotse.

Leave Naples.

Leave Italy.

Leave the mafia behind.

But take your two candlesticks with you.

Light them on a Friday evening,

and watch the red of the sunset

wash over the white of the candles.

Sofia, take your day of rest.

No, a year of rest.

Make every day a Shabbat.

Remember to bless yourself.

Sofia, choose wisely what you do now,

because it might be the last time you get to choose.

“All memory is treachery.”

I wonder how you will remember me.

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mylittleponyauprompts · 2 months

Note

Don't know if you accept AU ideas but I wanna share some ideas that have been bouncing in my head.

•Uncle Fancy AU

-An AU where Fancy Pants is actually related to the Sparkle Family, being the older brother Night Light. I thought about this when listening to an MLP podcast and it just popped into my head.

•Arranged Royal Marriage AU

-An AU where Shining and Cadance enter an arranged marriage with Chrysalis, which actually causes the changeling reformation a bit quicker.

•Different Species Main Six

-An au where due to the chaotic magic that was surging during Twilights magic awakening caused her and the other members of the Mane Six to turn into other species. Twilight turns in a Sphinx, RD is a Dragon, Fluttershy turns into a Changeling, Rarity turns into a Kirin, Pinkie turns into a Griffon and AJ turns into a Yak

I accept prompts yeah! these are fun! I like the Fancy pants one, he does look related to the Sparkle family due to his similar colors to Shining Armor. Similarly to why I like to see Shining Armor and Vinyl Scratch as twins or at least cousins.

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crowtrobotx · 3 months

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Writing request: MurderFam adopts Cat!MurderFam.

Your wish is my command! For those unaware, the cats are the kitty versions of Kris, Karl and Lottie that Bri so lovingly wrote for her amazing Warrior Cats fic (which you should read here) What the Cat Dragged In Warnings: None, beyond cursing and some lewd humor. Word count: 2273

“Honey, sit still please.” “I have enough layers on! Mommmm! Let me go!”

Kris tried not to react as Lottie flopped back dramatically onto the kitchen tile, limbs spread starfish-like to emphasize the absolute agony her mother was forcing her to endure by not letting her run outside naked in the dead of winter. Surely child services would arrive at any moment to behold the horror of a child being dressed for the cold and whisk her away to a family that cared. With a sigh, Kris crossed her arms and stood over Lottie, now fully feigning death by sticking her tongue out and pinching her eyes shut. Her fluffy pink earmuffs looked like a second set of buns perched on the sides of her head. “You just need shoes. That’s it - only shoes,” Kris said calmly, gesturing to the snow boots sitting by the door. “Do you think you can survive that? You wouldn’t want wet socks.” “I don’t want to wear those boots. They’re too hot!” “Mmm. And what other boots could I get for you- oh! That’s right! You melted the soles off your second pair when you and Papa insisted on playing lightsabers by the bonfire in autumn. Speaking of which, where is your father? We need to get going - the school bake sale starts in half an hour.”

Lottie sat up, her grumpy expression diminished slightly at the prospect of changing the subject away from her attire. “He’s outside. Said he was going to the shed because he thought he saw an animal go in last night.” “When did he tell you this?” “Right after breakfast… a while ago, I guess. Maybe he got lost? Should we make a search party? Can I fly a helicopter!?” Kris’s brows furrowed. The shed sat at the very edge of their property, right where the woods began - she could see it from the kitchen window, for heaven’s sake. He had been gone a long time for someone investigating such a relatively small structure, though. Either Karl had met his doom at the paws of a rabid skunk, no doubt engaging in combat to assert dominance over who smelled the worst, or it was the cats.

Two of them, usually - a male and a female. They didn’t typically stay around long, only ever dropping by to make camp for a few days in whatever space they could find amidst Karl’s comically large collection of “vintage” lawn mowers and tools he insisted would be fixed up and resold one day. They’d started showing up a few years prior, not long after Kris and Karl had moved in. At first the cats kept a healthy distance, little more than quick blurs darting out from under the porch. Kris treated them more or less like cows on the highway, something to point out and briefly observe before going back to the monotony of the day. And then, Karl started making even more frequent convenience store stops. He always showed up with a bag of Kris’s favorite sour candies in an attempt to distract her from the copious amount of tuna cans he was stockpiling. He even tried to hide where he was putting them, as if the smell of fish didn’t make it incredibly obvious. Before she knew it, the fluffy tomcat had fallen on top of her head from the support beams the next time she’d entered the garage to speak to her husband, the smaller brown she-cat observing boredly from on high as her mate was nearly punted across the room. “It’s gotta be those furballs again,” she said to no one in particular. She ran a quick hand through her frizzy curls, standing on end seemingly out of frustration with her offspring. “Lottie, please put on your boots and then follow me outside. If I see you come out barefoot, I’m picking the movie tonight.” “Uuuuuughhh… Fiiineee….” The screen door slammed with a bang as Kris marched with purpose across the backyard, beelining for the rickety old shed. What remained of yesterday’s snow mix with mud from the yard squelched unpleasantly underfoot. She wasn’t angry about the cats so much as she was about being late - it gave her tremendous anxiety. Not to mention fucking Debbie would undoubtedly have set up shop right by the exit, where Kris wanted to be; the thought of the woman’s smug face sneering at her while she hawked her flavorless macarons was enough to drive her to madness. No, she would not lose her prime bake sale real estate this year. Not again. She heard it before she saw it, the shed’s perpetually shattered side window allowing the sound to be audible when she was within ten paces. Karl’s voice - so he hadn’t fallen victim to skunk murder. Shame.

Kris didn’t bother knocking - she pushed the creaky wooden door open and entered the damp, warm space with an expression that she hoped conveyed the sort of disappointed maternal look that bent the normally bombastic man to her will. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, a figure sitting on a stack of overturned milk crates in the corner began to take form - as did a pair of glowing, irritated eyes.

And there he was, Mr. Tough guy himself, cradling the scraggly grey tomcat like a baby and cooing at it in an uncharacteristically high pitched tone. Kris sighed. It might have been cute if they didn’t have somewhere to be - and if Karl wasn’t deliberately pretending she wasn’t there. The cat was looking at her with an expression that she could only describe as insulted, as if he could not believe her audacity in interrupting his belly rub session. “Having fun?” Kris’s lips twitched. “We were.” Karl was very fond of the male, to put it lightly - though he’d die before he said as much. Kris wasn’t a cat person, but she had exchanged enough glances with the small, brown female to recognize the same exhausted eyes that stared back at her every morning in the bathroom mirror. A kindred spirit, it would seem. The poor thing had lost her tail, and all that remained was a little nub that fluffed up angrily when she was agitated. Which seemed to be often around her ever-meowing mate.

Speaking of which- A quick glance around the space didn’t immediately reveal the little she-cat, to Kris’s surprise chagrin. Unless she’d wedged herself in a corner or under a tarp, she was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s his girlfriend?” Kris asked, trying to sound uninterested. Karl shrugged, the momentary pause in his petting earning him a swift paw to the jaw. He chuckled and resumed his all important task, shifting a bit anxiously in place. “Dunno. Haven’t seen her - she’s probably out getting drunk with her little cat friends and talking shit about this poor baby.” The tomcat purred loudly, swishing his feather duster tail across Karl’s leg. Kris rolled her eyes. She was busy thinking up a witty retort when Lottie’s wheezy self jostled around her from behind, having just sprinted over from the house upon the realization that her parents were spending time together without her, yet another unacceptable grievance. Almost as bad as being forced to wear shoes. “What’re you two doing? What’s that? Is that the cat we saw last summer?” “You’ve got major FOMO, y’know that?” Kris flicked one of her buns affectionately. “Papa was just saying goodbye to his buddy, wasn’t he?” Karl opened his mouth to protest - Kris swore for a brief, insane moment that the cat mirrored his expression - when Lottie tugged on her mother’s jacket sleeve. “Hey, where’s the other one?” God, she’d hoped Lottie wouldn’t ask. For all anyone knew, she was simply hiding or out hunting - but the fact that it was winter, and knowing how many coyotes and foxes they’d already seen this season… she didn’t want to think about it. Kris swallowed her mounting sadness. They’re strays, she told herself. It was bound to happen sooner rather than later. Besides, she wasn’t even a cat person - what was she getting so worked up about?As if on command, an irritated meow came from the small storage loft above. The little brown she-cat darted her green eyes curiously between Kris and Lottie before glaring at the tom. Kris snapped her gaze up and failed to contain the relief in her voice as she exclaimed, “Hey, you!” Karl, infuriatingly, noticed. He flashed her one of his Cheshire cat grins, and Kris was ready to launch the nearest rusty tool at his head when the she-cat voiced her indignation once more.

The male meowed in response and flopped awkwardly out of Karl’s lap before bounding on top of the nearby crates and barely making the leap up into the loft. His back paw slipped awkwardly, but he managed it all the same before shaking his fur like a wet dog and trying to look menacing and huge again. He briefly butted heads with his mate before they both turned away from the three humans below, as if deep in hurried conversation. Kris didn’t want to waste any more time on this than they already had - mostly she didn’t need Karl needling her about actually liking a cat. She gestured toward her waiting car in the driveway, loaded to the hilt with brownies that actually tasted good, thank you very much, Debbie. “There, you’ve had your visit. Now can we get going?” “Yeah, yeah.” Karl rose with great effort, the groan he emitted as he simply stood up more akin to someone being stabbed to death rather than simply stretching their back. “Hey, wait!” Lottie suddenly pointed upward toward the ats and bounced eagerly on her toes, craning her short neck to try to see something. The female hopped down first, gracefully, and made her way to Kris’s legs. She wound her sleek little form around them a few times, and Kris couldn’t resist bending and giving her a quick ear scritch before Lottie nearly shrieked with delight. With a heavy thump, the tomcat landed on the crates again, this time carrying a furious fuzzball in his jaws. The little grey kitten hissed furiously, its short limbs flailing with irritation at having been removed from their warm nest. The proud father strutted over to Karl to present the little spitting terror while the mother appeared unbothered, ignoring her offspring’s protests and blinking slowly up at Kris to gauge her reaction. She wasn’t sure if cats understood thumbs up, but that was all she could think to give the expectant creature. “Well, look at that!” Karl clapped his hands together delightedly. “You old bastard, you got some swimmers that still work?” “Aww, I said the same thing to you after we got married,” Kris kissed her husband’s cheek, reveling in his sour expression.

“IT’S A KITTEN!!!!!” Karl barely caught Lottie before she lunged forward, pure mania in her eyes. “Lottie, shhh,” Kris suppressed the urge to laugh lest it startle the cats. “Yes, it’s a kitten. A very cute one. Try to stay calm, we don’t want to scare them away.” Her daughter was practically vibrating with excitement. The tomcat plopped the little grey kitten, his clone in almost every way, on the dirt floor where it proceeded to fluff up to twice its size and stand stock still. Its eyes were like saucers as it observed Lottie, unsure of whether to run or launch itself at her face. Ever the extrovert, Lottie dropped to her hands and knees and introduced herself, loudly, to the kitten. She crouched until her chin was practically on the ground and made herself as small and unthreatening as possible. The kitten slowly deflated, shuffling forward and flashing tiny teeth nervously before batting Lottie’s nose to garner a response. Lottie only laughed and extended a chubby little hand for it to sniff. A few cautious sniffs later and the little beast was hesitantly allowing itself to be petted clumsily on the head, even letting a few purrs escape here and there. “Well… I’m glad this had a happy ending,” Kris muttered. The she-cat at her feet went to go inspect her kitten while the male watched happily from his lounge atop an old dusty stool. “We should really, really leave, though. How will Lottie’s junior robotics club survive if I don’t fundraise half the budget with my astonishing selection of baked goods? Come on, old man.” “Sheesh, alright. Does your girl bother you this much?” The tomcat yowled pathetically at Karl in response. “Yeah, I know, buddy… I know. It’s torture.” Kris and the she-cat glanced at one another, a sort of shared understanding that transcended species passing between them. Both of the boys were going to husband jail tonight. “Can we keep them!?” Lottie begged as the kitten scaled her face onto her head as if conquering a mountain. “Yes,” Karl announced, drowning out Kris’s softer “no.” She wanted to protest, but frankly the urge had fled. It wasn’t worth it. Not while Debbie was out there making gains already. “Fine,” Kris conceded at last. She turned to leave, waving a dismissive hand over her shoulder as she made her way back toward the house. “Fine, but you two are keeping them fed and changing their litterboxes. And buying them toys, and taking them to the vet…. And we need to talk about neutering the fella.”

“NO!” Karl stomped a foot angrily. “Don’t disrespect my boy like that! Don’t even joke about it!”

Kris had half a mind to comment that she was referring to him, but decided she’d had enough tantrum delays for one afternoon.

#asks #writing requests #grisailledreams #chrysalis (fan fic) au

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shiftermod · 9 months

Text

Updated thoughts on A Canterlot Wedding.

I've been thinking about the whole love-sucking thing and other people's headcanons and my disagreements with them, and I realized a few things many years ago—and a few things now, a bit over 11 years later (the episodes were screened on April 14, 2012, and aired on television in the U.S. on April 21, 2012.)

So, there are some key conceits to this two-parter but I've glossed over the biggest:

These episodes are, at their core, an advertisement for a Princess Cadance toy.

Every single thing we see in the episodes stems from that.

In Part 1, we see flashbacks of Princess Cadance, who—it must be stressed—is a princess. This character is royalty, and she's royalty in Equestria in the MLP universe.

In this instance, she has a signature spell that can—at this time at least—only be cast by her. It is clearly something she developed, likely as some aspect of her duties as a princess. It is something that is unique to her specifically, because it is also marketing for a toy.

In order for the episodes to succeed as an advertisement for a toy, she must use this spell in the episode.

We'll call this Chekhov's Spell. It is shown in a flashback, and talked about with great fanfare, which means the spell is going to be used in the climax of the episode in order to save the day. Why? Because these episodes are an advertisement for a Cadance toy.

Unfortunately, spoilers:

Cadance is behaving very differently from her usual behavior—almost the opposite of her usual behavior, come to think of it—and it is eventually revealed that she has been replaced by a shapeshifter called a changeling. The imposter is narratively, thematically, functionally, and archetypically an "evil twin" whose behavior is the opposite of the original (compare the impostor's behavior throughout Part 1 to the montage at the end of Part 2 featuring the real Cadance), and this is important.

Now, Equestrian Magic as seen in Season 1 has three main components:

Emotion: the fuel source for the spell. Friendship is literally magic.

Concentration: the magic-user shapes the spell to accomplish a specific task or goal.

Physical effort: the magic-user casts the spell. The larger or more powerful the spell, the more of a physical toll it takes.

In season 1, Twilight Sparkle casts a spell that allows her to lift a very distant, very large, and very heavy structure that was initially filled with water and was later filled with milk—and in doing so, she plants her feet, grits her teeth, scrunches her eyes, and visibly struggles. She then also lifts an enormous heavy animal AND the water tower, and transports them into the Everfree and into a cave that the animal emerged from in the first place.

Casting takes a physical toll on the caster, and that toll might be nothing or it might be significant depending on the circumstances of the spell. Twilight herself explicitly states that magic takes concentration and effort twice in Season 1.

Here's Twilight collapsing after she finishes:

This is going to come up later in this essay.

So, Cadance's signature spell (presumably using her love as fuel) takes magic out of her, converts it into love energy, and puts that love into a pony as an act of giving (altering the pony's mood and thought process, which is Totally Not Creepy At All™.)

Reminder that this is a toy commercial for a Princess Cadance toy.

Within that boundary, our changeling imposter—the evil twin who behaves opposite to the original—is revealed to fundamentally function by doing the opposite of Cadance's spell.

The changeling queen takes love out of a pony, converts it into magic, and puts it into herself! Cadance specifies that the changelings "gain power" by doing this, suggesting that they either need to fuel their magic with stolen emotion, or that they wish to increase the power of their magic with stolen emotion.

The thing that makes Cadance marketable unique is the opposite of her evil twin's entire schtick! Queen Chrysalis is the figurative and literal opposite of Cadance's whole deal—not just her behavior but her signature spell! The evil changeling's behavior is the opposite of how the real Cadance would behave; the evil changeling's love-sucking is a thematic and literal reversal of the thing that Princess Cadance does!

The corollary then is that Princess Cadance's signature spell is the thematic and literal reversal of Queen Chrysalis' love-sucking.

Cadance's signature spell is Chekhov's Spell—and is what is used to market the Cadance toy. This means that Cadance's love-installation spell is going to save the day... by installing love in someone.

Someone who Chrysalis has drained to the point where only installing love can save them.

We see ponies under Chrysalis' mind control spell in Part 2:

Contrast with Shining Armor:

Shining Armor isn't merely in a trance because of Chrysalis using a mind control spell on him; Shining Armor has been drained dry. He's empty. No love, no passion, just apathy to the point where he can be controlled easily.

(I'm sure there's a metaphor in here somewhere, something something Neverending Story maybe?)

(Well, I was close.)

(Shut up, Gmork!)

Although maybe a better take might be Elie Wiesel's famous quote:

“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.”

As a side note, Shining Armor does get mind-controlled but briefly:

Then Cadance saves the day by reinstalling love into Shiny.

Same visual effect and everything.

Shining Armor awakens from his trance, with an emphasis on "awakens"; he is groggy and confused. A villainous monologue ensues and Shiny stands tall, glares, glowers, bares his teeth, and is clearly ready to kick Queen Chrysalis' butt.

Cadance encourages Shiny to use his signature spell, and the guy with the cutie mark of a shield with a magic symbol on it attempts to cast a magic shield.

What happens next is more easily understood if you've ever worked a job doing manual labor. I mentioned earlier that magic requires emotion (in this case love) as fuel; concentration to shape the spell; and physical effort to cast it.

Twilight collapsed after lifting and transporting a water tower and a very large bear.

Shiny is trying to create a magic shield the size of a city with only the small amount of love that Cadance installed in him to wake him up—and he can't: he doesn't have enough fuel.

The logical thing to do when you realize you can't do something is to stop.

The problem is that Shiny, like many people, is an illogical creature and so he does what many, many people do when they find they can't do something: he tries harder.

And harder. And harder.

Remember that magic requires physical effort to cast. What happens when you actually continue trying to do something physical that you can't physically do?

Your heart rate increases.

Your pulse rate increases (because of your heart rate.)

Your blood pressure rises.

Your body temperature rises.

You perspire.

There are other symptoms I am missing, but the end result is you begin to develop a medical condition called "exhaustion" which is not merely "being tired." Keep trying hard enough for long enough and by the time you finally stop trying, you are drenched in perspiration, your heart is pounding in your chest, your breathing has changed, you can hear a rushing sound in your ears, everything hurts, and when you stop, you immediately go limp. (Hi, I have personally done this; don't do this!)

At this point it is prudent for someone to help you into a chair in a cool room and administer first aid because you are at risk of heart attack, stroke, heat exhaustion, and all this other stuff that can kill you. This is not "being tired", this is dangerous.

Shining Armor tries to cast, and tries, and strains, and strains, to no effect... and then he finally stops and goes limp, drenched in perspiration from the effort, displaying clearly identifiable symptoms of exhaustion.

We have learned throughout Season 1 that unicorn magic takes concentration and effort. Shiny is not some exception to this rule!

Shiny's exhaustion was caused by his failed attempt to cast a spell the size of a city without any fuel.

At this point Cadance leverages her signature spell—the reverse of the changeling's feeding technique—and essentially uses herself as an external battery to give Shiny the fuel he needs to cast a spell the size of a city which somehow only expels the invading army while leaving the residents and guests unharmed.

So, why is any of this confusing to the layperson?

Well, the layperson isn't trained to recognize and treat exhaustion; misidentifies the symptoms as side effects of fever instead of side effects of exertion; and assumes that Shining Armor is near the point of collapse because Chrysalis fed on him—despite his ready-to-kick-Chrysalis'-butt behavior and stance immediately preceding a bunch of physical exertion.

This is then compounded by Katie Cook's (and by extension, Andy Price's) assumption—based on this symptom misidentification—that changeling love-sucking is functionally identical to the modus operandi of The Wraith from "Stargate: Atlantis": quasi-insectile aliens with doubled voices who suck the life out of their victims, resulting in rapid aging and death.

So, we get a comic book with illustrations of changeling victims withering and dying as seen in a science fiction TV show from the 2000s which has nothing to do with emotion-sucking vampires in a cartoon and everything to do with lifeforce-sucking vampires in a live-action sci-fi show. This then reinforces readers' existing misapprehensions with regard to changeling love-sucking.

Anyway, this rant is a delayed response to a bunch of blogs a decade ago ignoring the subtext and thematic and narrative elements and arbitrarily deciding that changeling love-sucking is lethal based on a fundamental misunderstanding of Shining Armor's symptoms and when those symptoms set in.

This then allows those blogs to justify killing changelings because the Canterlot Guard have Chekhov's Spears, and therefore they need to kill someone—and it might as well be the parasitic insectile menace because American movie audiences don't seem to understand that "Starship Troopers" (1997) was a practical joke/experiment on American movie audiences (and the majority of viewers failed the test), but they did like "Aliens" (1986).

And since none of those blog admins have the slightest understanding of the Geneva Conventions (or the UCMJ, or the Hague Conventions, or the body of U.S. Military Law going back at least as far as 1882, or god(s) forbid the Articles of War or the Law of Armed Conflict) we get "Hey, let's have the Canterlot Guard give no quarter and execute enemy prisoners in custody and face no consequences! Also jokes about torture! Because applying/obeying military law selectively instead of uniformly is clearly a great and effective way to maintain good order and discipline; I'm sure nothing can possibly go wrong if we apply the Uniform Code of Military Justice in a manner that isn’t uniform! Obviously Special Forces are 'Special' because they get to ignore all the military laws that absolutely everyone else in the army (including the brass) has to follow! OLC unilaterally said that illegal combatants are not party to Geneva, and then failed to ever define what the phrase 'illegal combatant' means, so it must be true!"

Side vent about Queen Chrysalis' motivations as a megalomaniacal lying sociopathic narcissist and (perhaps more importantly) a despot: the Canterlot Invasion was never actually about food; Chrysalis has inserted herself into the process to keep herself necessary and uses it as a carrot for her soldiers. When she tells the ponies it's about finding food, she is either lying or at least shading the truth.

(Side note, Season 6 later confirms that Chrysalis' own actions were keeping her army starving and desperate; the question is whether those actions were—as I strongly suspect—deliberate in order to point her people at external enemies in order to keep herself necessary and cling to power. You know, like most human despots.)

After they bring the Mane 6 to her, Chrysalis orders a large squad of her soldiers to "Go!" and then qualifies that instruction with "Feed!"—to get them out of the room, only giving away her actual motives during a music number once the soldiers are safely out of earshot.

Seriously, she literally closes the door behind them so they won't hear her gloating.

🎶 "Every pony I'll soon control; every stallion, mare, and foal!" 🎶 has nothing to do with food, but has everything to do with a malignant narcissist and despot who repeatedly demonstrates an obsession with being obeyed, whether it be by Shining Armor (e.g. "Are you disagreeing with me?!") or anyone else. This isn't about food, it was never about food; it's about conquest, but her army doesn't realize it. If it was about food, that would have been explicitly mentioned in the musical number.

Seeing Season 6

and then Season 8

actually confirm that Chrysalis' obsession with ruling is her prime motivation in all things warmed the cockles of my little black heart.

Anyway, enough ranting, at least for now. Getting that off my chest felt good.

EDIT: I have never served—partly due to chronic health issues, partly due to research. But a good friend later enlisted and fought in Afghanistan and went career; he’s the most ethical guy I know, period; and I have asked him questions about U.S. Military Law and the Rules of Engagement, Geneva, etc. It's all public-facing stuff, but it's easier and more reliable for me to ask someone with actual experience instead of looking stuff up on the internet and hoping Wikipedia is accurate.

#mod post #mod rant #mod vent #queen chrysalis #chrysalis #changeling #changelings #I have strong opinions about the treatment of prisoners #I also have strong opinions about Stargate Atlantis #and I have strong opinions about Katie Cook's writing

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