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ceruleanserendipity · 3 months

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The Magnus Protocol, Horror, and the Ouroborous of Love and Obsession

Buckle up.

Also known as "Goose is Very, Very Normal About How Love, Obsession, and Consumption (no, not that kind) Are Prevalent in Horror Media."

ALSO known as "I Can't Stop Thinking About The Magnus Protocol and the Running Theme, So You Get to Suffer With Me!"

Okay. Hi, hello, I'm Goose, and I needed to write about this before I annoy all of my friends too much about it. Horror is one of my favorite genres in any medium, and I love literary analysis. I've been listening to The Magnus Protocol (an excellent podcast) like my life depends on it, so I of course have thoughts.

Let's talk love. Love is an amazing theme in any medium, and personally one of my favorite things to look for. Like, romance movies are incredibly popular for a reason right? I will never dog on a good romcom or fairytale. HOWEVER. Something I appreciate about horror, specifically film and TV, is how love is an underlying theme. There are so many ways to portray love as a persisting force in horror; one of my favorite examples of this is The Haunting of Bly Manor (and like, everything Mike Flanagan does, honestly). The driving force of this show lies in Dani and her relationships, the way she deals with an ex-love, the way she comes to terms with a new one, and most importantly, in how her love continues throughout the horror of the series and even after, a persevering thing that makes me swoon more than a Nicholas Sparks book. I don't want to get too detailed, because, well, spoilers, but I wanted to give you my baseline idea on love as a thematic element.

Obsession. A word that tends to be thrown around rather lightly, and I am guilty! "Oh I'm obsessed," "latest obsession," etc. etc. etc.. Obsession in its barest form though is something that is constant preoccupation, invading daily life. All-consuming passion, something you can't get rid of easily. Love can devolve into obsession if one isn't careful, which is why the inherent horror of love and obsession go hand in hand, a snake eating its own tail and never letting go, because what would one abstract be without the other?

Now, let's talk Magnus!

In The Magnus Archives, there is a very clear love in a very twisted sense (mm my favorite). Who's the first person that comes to mind? Jane Prentiss, of course! She succumbs to the Corruption. The Corruption itself preys on those who are susceptible to toxicity, who have trouble with boundaries in relationships. Something I've always found terribly interesting is that desire to be consumed by something you adore so much. I understand it. In fact, many of the Fears in Archives are tied to some form of love, adoration, even worship.

This isn't exactly the case in The Magnus Protocol, at least, not the way I see it.

Thus far, Protocol has been distinctly more focused on body horror (another rant about my love for that another day) but something I've noticed since the first episode is that love, specifically obsession with something the subject loves, is prevalent throughout each "statement," as I've been calling them. While I'm aware they aren't true statements, but rather case files, in a sense, I'm attached to the term, so I'm sticking with it. Argue with the wall.

Episode one, we see two instances of love— first in a woman searching so desperately for her husband that she's willing to risk her safety for love. Secondly, we see a person so obsessed with exploration that he spirals into mania. Is it a passion? Yes. Hobbies, like urban exploration, are inherently something to be loved.

Episode two, the search for perfection is deeply tied to obsession. To mania. Daria is entrenched in the idea of loving oneself to the extent that she is willing to mutilate herself for it. Again, obsession. Devotion.

Episode three, the doctor is so in love with his wife (toxic love is, unfortunately, still a form of love. Infatuation perhaps, but a form of love nonetheless.), that he kills her. His later fixation after her death, causing that spiral into madness, is the product of going "further," as I mentioned earlier.

Episode four. Perfection is holding hands with obsession. Wanting to be perfect at something you adore is relatable, isn't it? There is so much inherent terror in adoration, and that's the real crux of this episode, at least in my personal opinion.

EP FIVE SPOILERS BELOW!!!

In episode five, it took me a moment to really jive with the story, but our narrator's love of horror itself is his downfall. His desensitization, his familiarity, it makes him foolhardy. Hasn't that happened to you? Being blindsided by the thing you treasure most, the thing that brings you comfort?

At its core, horror is hungry and consumptive. Most, if not all, horror will have something that requires a "sacrifice," or something of the sort. A slasher needs a victim, a demon needs a body, a knife needs blood, a voyeur needs a subject. Love and obsession are separated by the thinnest air; infatuation and love are so quick to consume a person that it is one of the more dangerous experiences. Love drives a person to fear, whether that's losing oneself or the object of affection. We fear what we love. We become addicted to that exhilaration of heightened fear response.

At the present moment, Protocol has been hitting it out of the park when weaving love into its stories, and I, for one, can't wait for more.

If you have complaints, leave them in the box.

Kisses!!!! Love from,

Goose <3

#tmp spoilers #the magnus protocol #tmp #goose talks media #also vaguely #tma #the magnus archives

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snakeningel · 2 years

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Heard you wanted Dracula prompts? how about: Seward suitor squad sandwich. That's it, that's what I've got. Feel free to run with it if you're so inspired.

bet.

Arthur Holmwood's Diary, Written in by Quincey P. Morris, October 14th

The sun isn't up yet, so I'll take this time to write. Journalling ain't usually my thing, but some good's gotta come outta this whole vampire mess, and I'm certainly not gonna lose this memory to time or whatever meets us in Varna. Art — if you're reading this, I hope you don't mind I nicked that journal of yours. I don't have one of my own, and I know you well enough that I'm sure you'd want a record of last night too.

The three of us have been through a lot. Probably more adventures than those folks who call themselves blood brothers. We know everything about each other. Art, I know you like to gussy up your animals when you're too worried to think straight, and I've heard that I cling to people when I'm dead asleep. So I don't know why Jack thought we didn't notice him shivering up a storm in that bunk of his. He's always the first one to feel the chill, but Lord forbid the man actually open his mouth to say something about it. Art told me it was something about medical school and blood pressure that got Jack to seal his lips? Some theory about womenfolk being more susceptible to the chill, I think. Now the man would rather let his skin go blue than admit that he needs some warm bodies by his side. But it's not like anyone in this group of ours is inclined to judge anything, and at the very least, Art and I already knew about what the doctor didn't want people to suspect. Mina was even snuggled up, happy as a clam with that husband of hers. The two of them made for such a pretty picture, and I can't think why Jack was so against being like them, all warm and comfortable-like. It's not like he would ever get mad at me though, so I went and cozied up with our darling doctor. That wasn't entirely altruistic on my part. A warm body can help stave off the cold, but the presence of a true, dear friend is more than needed to fight off that darkness that we see ahead. I told Jack as much. The man won't take handouts, but he'd do anything to help his own. He's got a heart as pure as gold beneath all that gloom; besides the professor of his, I can think of no better shepherd of the sick. He held himself stiffly for the first few moments, but soon enough he was melted to my chest like a frozen cold kitten scooped up off of the ground. Art, of course, was not one to be left out, and he was bright enough to see our doctor begin to flush and think of propriety. With the smarts of the hunter he is, he strolled over and laid himself down across our laps, all cat that got the canary like. Jack certainly wasn't going to stand up and cause our lordling to topple to the floor, so the poor lad was trapped between our affections. The darling thinks himself subtle, but both Art and I are sharp enough to notice the relieved smile that curled at the edges of his pretty lips. Even without the threat of someone standing up, Art's position was far too precarious for my liking. So I tugged the two of them back with me, arranging us all on the bed more comfortably than how we had been perching on the edge. It's sweet how Jack flushes whenever I haul him around, but I wasn't inclined to embarrass him further, so I didn't say much to that effect. The three of us have bunked in worse places than a traincar that's just a tad too cold, so we settled quickly enough into a position that's comfortable for all of us. Just as I like to cling with my dear ones in my arms, Jack likes to feel the weight of something solid on both sides of him; spending too long in the realm of the mind probably leaves him needing a reminder of what is solid and real. Art, of course, managed to take up more space than we thought possible, stretching across the two of us like he was making his claim. There was a moment of silent peace, all of us understanding each other without a word shared. But our doctor couldn't stop his buzzing brain, and soon enough he opened his mouth to speak.

"What if-"

It doesn't take the brightest mind to figure out that he was going to let himself discuss only the worst possibilities, so with all the grace that I could never muster, Art rumbled out the sweetest, laziest whine into Jack's chest. That was enough to stop that train of thought in its tracks. The claim that Art holds over our Jack's heartstrings is nothing short of impressive, but they've had decades to grow fond of each other, I suppose. Still, such an efficient shutdown of Jack's overthinking ways did tickle me, so I suppose a chuckle escaped my mouth. Again, our doctor goes red, though I suppose the rumble of my chest against his face sparked some other, better thoughts in his head. I wish he knew that he need only ask, and both Art and I would be happy to do whatever he wished to him. But this isn't time to push; perhaps after we come back from this latest adventure of ours, we'll sit our boy down to run another gauntlet of proposals.

But I'm not keen thinking too far into an uncertain future. There's no point until the evil we're hunting is cold and scattered on the wind. At some point, the warmth and comfort lulled us to sleep; I couldn't tell who went first into that land of rest, but as with all things, those of us left behind wasted no time to follow. That's where Art and Jack still are now, finally getting the rest and comfort we've all been neglecting of late. The train is still rolling along to our destination, and no matter what we face in Varna, I am happy to know that this moment will not slip into the oft-forgotten past. The two of them don't look like they will be stirring anytime soon, so I suppose I will return and join them for as long as they will have me.

#dracula daily #jack seward #quincey morris #quincey p morris #arthur holmwood #holmward #morward #morwood #suitor squad #drac ficlet #long //#(hope i got the character voice for quincey right!! and hope u enjoy anon!!)#(also i sprinkled some trans!jack in there bc. yall Know im a Truther)#(also finally if there r mistakes <3 no there arent)#(jk i wrote this in class so i will proofread another time. gay ppl is more important)

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spacetimewithstuartgary · 11 months

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One-third of galaxy’s most common planets could be in habitable zone Our familiar, warm, yellow sun is a relative rarity in the Milky Way. By far the most common stars are considerably smaller and cooler, sporting just half the mass of our sun at most. Billions of planets orbit these common dwarf stars in our galaxy. To capture enough warmth to be habitable, these planets would need to huddle very close to their small stars, which leaves them susceptible to extreme tidal forces. In a new analysis based on the latest telescope data, University of Florida astronomers have discovered that two-thirds of the planets around these ubiquitous small stars could be roasted by these tidal extremes, sterilizing them. But that leaves one-third of the planets – hundreds of millions across the galaxy – that could be in a goldilocks orbit close enough, and gentle enough, to hold onto liquid water and possibly harbor life. UF astronomy professor Sarah Ballard and doctoral student Sheila Sagear published their findings the week of May 29 in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. Ballard and Sagear have long studied exoplanets, those worlds that orbit stars other than the sun. “I think this result is really important for the next decade of exoplanet research, because eyes are shifting toward this population of stars,” Sagear said. “These stars are excellent targets to look for small planets in an orbit where it’s conceivable that water might be liquid and therefore the planet might be habitable.” Sagear and Ballard measured the eccentricity of a sample of more than 150 planets around these M dwarf stars, which are about the size of Jupiter. The more oval shaped an orbit, the more eccentric it is. If a planet orbits close enough to its star, at about the distance that Mercury orbits the sun, an eccentric orbit can subject it to a process known as tidal heating. As the planet is stretched and deformed by changing gravitational forces on its irregular orbit, friction heats it up. At the extreme end, this could bake the planet, removing all chance for liquid water. “It’s only for these small stars that the zone of habitability is close enough for these tidal forces to be relevant,” Ballard said. Data came from NASA’s Kepler telescope, which captures information about exoplanets as they move in front of their host stars. To measure the planets’ orbits, Ballard and Sagear focused especially on how long the planets took to move across the face of the stars. Their study also relied on new data from the Gaia telescope, which measured the distance to billions of stars in the galaxy. “The distance is really the key piece of information we were missing before that allows us to do this analysis now,” Sagear said. Sagear and Ballard found that stars with multiple planets were the most likely to have the kind of circular orbits that allow them to retain liquid water. Stars with only one planet were the most likely to see tidal extremes that would sterilize the surface. Since one-third of the planets in this small sample had gentle enough orbits to potentially host liquid water, that likely means that the Milky Way has hundreds of millions of promising targets to probe for signs of life outside our solar system.

#space #science #Astronomy #physics #news #exoplanet

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kusagrasskusa · 1 year

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Fell! Sans X Sick! Reader - “Brompton Cocktail”

This is really different from what I normally write (nonstop Mortal Kombat X Readers lmao) but I wanted to do this because I love this song from Avenged Sevenfold. Obviously you don’t need to listen to it but if you’d like to, go ahead :) Just skip to 60 seconds in to figure out the exact point of the song I’m referencing.

TW: Death, sickness (cancer), drugs, and just a lot of sad shit

So, a brompton cocktail is a mixture of cocaine, morphine and antiemetics to reduce pain and induce euphoria that was used in the 1920s for cancer patients.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶⋆˙⊹❀♡❀˖⁺. ༶⋆˙⊹❀♡❀˖⁺. ༶⋆˙⊹❀♡❀˖⁺. ༶⋆˙⊹❀♡❀˖⁺. ༶⋆˙⊹❀♡

Humans are made up of cells, and because of which, they are susceptible to diseases like heart disease, diabetes, and most important of all rights now, cancer.

Monsters are made up of magic and henceforth have never had to deal with diseases like such, and so whenever Y/N had been in experiences weight loss, bleeding, and fever, no one knew what it could be.

She began to feel cough up blood, losing weight even if she eats more, and being incapable of breathing. You can imagine how her fiancé felt whenever he could do nothing but watch from the sidelines at her suffering, being so pissed off that he can’t do anything. Why was his beloved Y/N’s chest hurting so badly? Why can’t she barely breathe? Why won’t she eat anymore? Why can’t he do anything to stop it?

They were supposed to spent the rest of their lives together! They were supposed to reach the surface and marry on top of this damned mountain, they were supposed to get a house near a lake far away from anyone else so he won’t ever have to feel close to anyone again. Overcrowding in the underground has always been a big problem so Y/N was gonna show him what it’s like on the countryside with pets, animals, and possibly kids if technology developed enough. So why?

Y/N coughed, wheezing and gasping for air in the bed she laid in. Sans flinched and squeezed her hand, though a little hard.

“Sans,” she weakly whispered, “you’re stressed again.”

Sans softly chuckled, the edge in his voice coming out along with hints of tiredness. He’s been so tired lately and it was killing Y/N more than her sickness was, it seemed like. “Nah, I’m just thinking,” he replied, releasing her hand and repositioning himself on his seat. Since Y/N’s sickness, Sans had cleaned up his room beyond imaginable- no clothes on the floor, no dishes or food spilled across, nothing. Just a bed and nightstand with a lamp on it, and a seat by the bed. Y/N had oxygen being brought into her lungs via breathing tubes supplied by Doctor Alphys, who even she was too scared to be a bitch about given the state of Sans and surprisingly, Papyrus.

Although Papy didn’t like Y/n at first and tried many times to kill her in her sleep, she eventually grew on the family. His excuse for not killing her was that she wasn’t THAT bad at puzzles and people like that should be preserved. And sometimes she was a little funny too- and who’s gonna complain about free cooking? Y/N would introduce foods from the surface that may not had ever been seen before by them… Like toasted raviolli or macaroni! Though he likes spaghetti more, he didn’t mind the other two forms of Italian cuisine.

Actually, Y/N’s sickness had brought out a side of Papy that no one had ever seen before. Whenever Y/N had gone to see Alphys, Papy found Sans crying in his room. Normally he would say something like, “suffer in silence,” but he couldn’t help but sit down by his brother and just… be there. He pat his brother’s back and just sat there until he stopped crying. When Y/N heard of it, the thought hit her- perhaps Sans would be losing her, but he’d gain something he never had before, huh?

Sans sighed, thinking of the memory. “Humans really did get what they deserved, heh heh,” he said in a joking manner, but he meant it. “Humans deserve this for trapping us here. Even if you ain’t all that bad… and you’re basically a monster, heh heh… You guys deserve it.” Y/N raised a brow, weakly smiling after a moment has passed. “By why you? I mean, you’re a fucking angel among us pieces of shit! Maybe we deserve to be trapped here, but you don’t.. You don’t deserve this fucking disease. You guys deserve to get sick and diseased as a fucking karma, but you never did anything to deserve it…”

Her face was gloomy despite her smile and her eyes glimmered as Sans’s head turned to see them. “Hon, you don’t deserve this either,” she weakly replied, “and… I think I know what this is. And I know…” she paused, tears pricking her eyes, “I know a way to make everything better.”

You can imagine the look on Sans’s face whenever he heard her talk. He stood up from his chair and leaned over her, holding her hand tightly to his chest. “What can make you feel better?” He asked in haste, desperation- he truly was so fucking desperate. His voice was so cracked and unhinged, she knew it would hurt so badly to say this.

Y/N pressed her lips into a straight line, thinking about her response. Sans waited patently; his fiancé had to take a deep breath before replying. “Humans can contract a disease called cancer. Our bodies are made up of cells, similar to atoms but… Well, they contain about a trillion atoms per cell haha.. But the cells die so quickly and are reformed, but sometimes.. The cells will mess up whenever they are being created. This is what causes cancer in simple terms haha…”

Sans listened close, trying to understand what she meant. Of course monsters don’t study human biology but he could imagine what she was trying to describe. “Cancer,” she began, “at this point… baby, I love you, but my time is up.”

“No!” Sans yelled, scrunching his face as he hitched out his breaths. But the sad reality was that she was right.

“Sans!” She yelled back, tearing beginning to fall. She coughed out blood from her yell, taking a few large gasps for air- raising her voice was something she couldn’t do anymore, let along yell. Sans shushed her, brushing his skeletal fingers through her hair. A few moments passed of her catching her breath passed before she cleared her throat, continuing, “look at me. I used to be loud at shit at Grillby’s haha… Have some motherfucker wanna mess with the quiet human in the corner, and she’ll have the entire town of Snowden hear about it. But I can’t go above a whisper, baby…” she looked down at the covers and her shirt, drenched in blood from throughout the month.

“Dear, I can’t go on another day like this. You know that… So please,” her last work cracked as tears forcibly poured from her eyes, “I can’t feel my face, baby. I won’t struggle on anymore… This world is so cold, so wrong. I’m not running away anymore from the inevitable, and this pain I’ve been fighting has been going on for too long. There’s a price to pay when living and I’ve been paying it for too long.” She began talking in rhyme, which may sound cliche, but generally it’s safe to assume that’s when people are at their sincerest.

“I lost my final fight to disease, and I wanna feel alive again,” she breathed out, looking deep into the sockets of her fiancé. “There was a common ritual back in the 20s… A Brompton Cocktail,” she shivered, her face turning paler moment to moment. As if his anxiety wasn’t bad enough already, Sans seethed.

“What is-,” he spoke, “what is that?”

Y/N looked so sorrowful in her fiancé’s eyes. “A blend of cocaine, morphine and antiemetics… a shot of them in my veins called induced euphoria.”

Drugs was her final solution. And considering many residents are addicted underground… It wasn’t hard to find. But chit, he felt as terrible as she did almost as he called up Grillby, asking him for the contents he needed and the pay. This was it, huh? He didn’t want to lose her. He didn’t want to lose her!

He didn’t want to lose her.

As Sans returned home with the contents needed, he went into the kitchen and passed Papyrus. “Sans, the fuck!” Boss yelled upon seeing them. “You’re resorting to drugs now you sad piece of shit?” Sans scowled and rolled his eyes.

“No, asshole. This isn’t… This isn’t mine,” he replied though unfocused as he messed with the ingredients. Papyrus would have furrowed his eyebrows if he could, then the sudden realization hit him.

“Y/N!” Boss yelled as he quickly made his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs, “what are you doing!” Sans sighed, freezing in his spot. He remembered the words his girl, HIS girl spoke, as she asked for these. This was really fucking it? He would going to lose his happiness to drugs?

“I have the right to die how I wanna,” Y/N told him, and was now repeating to Papyrus. “And I’m going to take my life tonight, and leave how I arrived… So alive,” her dead, empty eyes sparkled upon the last word of her sentence. Papyrus didn’t have it in him to show that he was hurt, but he did the way he knows how to.

“If you do this, you fuck… you idiot, you’re gonna piss of everyone here. We all respect you! And Sans loves you!” He yelled, clenching his fists. “NormalIy don’t care about him, but if I have to deal with his ass moping around all day,” he trailed off, uncharacteristic for someone like him. But he couldn’t hide how distraught he really felt. “If you do this, Y/N, you’d be the most selfish bitch in the underground.”

“I can die with that in mind,” she replied in a joking manner the way Sans normally does whenever he’s feeling bad. “Can you be there for him? Just for a little bit?”

The request stayed with Papyrus as he sat out in the living room, leaning forward with his arms on his knees. The question of “is this really it” just replayed again and again in their minds of the skeletons, especially Sans’ as he brought the needle in the bedroom. Y/N’s pale smile- the whitest he’d ever seen her, was haunting. She looked a lot like him.. She had dropped so much weight, her skull was poking through her skin and her ribs were visible. Her skeleton hands were so weak and her skin so pale it that it scared him. Was this still Y/N? He couldn’t tear reality from a nightmare and whenever he poked the needle into her arm, it all came crashing down on him.

Y/N gasped as the needle poked into her vein, making her tightly close her eyes and breath out weakly. “I love you, Sans. I wish things didn’t happen this way,” she sniffled, looking into her fiancé’s sockets. He had been frozen in spot there for a moment before Y/n spoke up, making him come to reality. “I wish it could be me who you’d marry, but I won’t ever make it out of this, baby. But whenever I’m in heaven or hell, I’ll see you and I’ll be watching you meet someone else.”

“Shut up,” he whispered almost inaudibly. Y/N started to cry. Tears poured from her eyes and her voice hitched in an almost hysterical cry, but the coughing and blood coming out of her lungs made it so difficult for her to say what she wanted.

“I’ll watch you meet another girl and,” she coughed, growing nauseous as she almost screamed in pain. “It won’t hurt as bad as this!”

“Stop baby,” Sans silently pleaded.

“And when you and her marry, know this is what I wanted.”

“Shut up!” Sans exclaimed as he pressed down on the needle, forcing the drugs out of it and into her veins. She gasped, crying out harder as it happened. But within moments, her head began to turn and her face went limp aside from her wide eyes. Sans just stood there and watched. Watched his hands shake as he pulled the needle out slowly, how his girl’s face and body reacted to the drugs, how she began to laugh and smile and cry as she bleed to death from her lungs. As her body took the overdose, he watched she went from behind happy to just…

Limp. She stopped moving and her eyes remained opened, her mouth a little gap, and her face paler then before. Sans just watched it all. He was so scared, he couldn’t have said anything loving before she went. He couldn’t even say I love you.

Hours passed before Papyrus knocked on the bedroom door. “Sans?” He called out, his voice low while doing his best to hide his real emotion. “Is everything okay?”

“Y-Yeah,” Sans replied as if he wasn’t focused on answering. Slowly Papyrus opened the door, seeing his brother sitting in his chair, just looking at the body of his diseased fiancé. She must have died hours ago since her body was slowly beginning to change as nature ran its course. Her soul was open for taking and this would be the last one needed to cross the barrier, wouldn’t it?

But Papyrus knew he couldn’t do it. Even he couldn’t betray his brother like that. Not now, not with this soul.

“I never thought,” Sans started, “that this… this is how it would all end. She’s so beautiful, even like this. That fucking Brompton Cocktail made her as happy as I had seen her in over a month. And I couldn’t have even said goodbye or tell her I loved her.”

#Spotify #undertale x reader #underfell x reader #underfell sans #underfell sans x reader #underfell #undertale #Underfell sans x you #Underfell sans x y/n #sad :(

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jeonstellate · 5 months

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ocean waves & faded dreams — shore i

agent collins unknowingly crashes an avengers’ mission.

⚝༄ platonic!bucky barnes x original character (ft. platonic!tony stark x original character)

⚝༄ mentions of manipulation & human experimentation; depictions of murder & brainwashing activation

⚝༄ paragraph format — 1.6K words

masterlist | ow&fd masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

⚝༄ think everything in bold is in russian.

Agent Collins, at eleven years of age, was S.H.I.E.L.D.’s youngest recruit.

Many opposed, as a battlefield was no place for a literal child, but Director Fury insisted. He understood that she was more of a liability to S.H.I.E.L.D. than an asset, but he also knew that the world was better off with her as S.H.I.E.L.D.’s liability than HYDRA’s asset.

Agent Collins was aware of the circumstances of her recruitment. Not because people kept on reminding her, but because she wasn’t granted the luxury to be naive. The world was cruel and unforgiving during her tender years — and she wasn’t foolish enough to think that it changed for the better as she aged.

With her involvement with S.H.I.E.L.D., at least she could pretend that the balance between good and evil was tipping more gray than dark.

She was never the best soldier and, frankly, anyone who believed she would be the perfect agent was — for the lack of a better word — an idiot.

To her credit, no one specifically forbade her to tag along on the mission concerning her former manipulator. So, technically, she wasn’t disobeying any direct order. To S.H.I.E.L.D.’s defense, no one knew she got a wind of the said mission. So, they couldn’t’ve possibly forbidden her in participating, either.

Unfortunately for Agent Collins, since no one technically knew her current whereabouts, that meant she was alone with no backup. If — heavens forbid — everything went south, then she was highly susceptible to being kidnapped without a trace. Again.

"Riptide has found her way back home," Dr. Wilhelm Fischer celebrated with a maniacal laugh. The two HYDRA agents that brought her into the room roughly made her kneel on the floor, close to the doctor. "Did you miss your father, Phantom Riptide?"

Agent Collins’ stealth uniform covered her entire body. In addition to the body-fit suit, she was wearing boots, gloves, and goggles. She was also donning a hood and a mask that fully covered the lower part of her face to complete the ensemble.

Her S.H.I.E.L.D.-designed stealth uniform was specifically customized with her in mind, as they aimed to protect her identity. However, as an indirect consequence, her uniform also concealed her emotions pretty well. In any given day, she couldn’t care less about her expressions being hidden. However, at the moment, she wanted nothing more than letting the doctor see the burning hatred in her eyes.

"You’re not my father," she spat. Since nonverbal cues were difficult to convey with her outfit of choice and her hands cuffed behind, she was left with the only other option.

"Right," Dr. Fischer wasn’t even taken aback. "Because everyone made you believe someone else owned that title. Isn’t that right, Winter Soldier’s daughter?"

Agent Collins froze momentarily, she had forgotten about that nickname. She regained her composure a moment later, her sense of bravery renewed. "I’d rather be known as his daughter than yours."

He feigned offense, "A cruel reminder, really.

"I spent my whole life perfecting HYDRA’s new wave of soldiers and the most viable experiment ended up being credited to another asset."

Agent Collins wanted to go on this mission for two main reasons: first, to ask her former manipulator her questions and second, to kill him with her own weapon.

(Because an assassin would never be above revenge and debts.)

"How many Phantom Riptides did you make?"

"Three hundred." Her heart churned with the knowledge that 300 lives were experimented on. Hers and 299 others. Worst of all, the doctor blurted that number as if it meant nothing — as if he merely said how many beakers he had broken over the years, not how many lives he had ruined for the sake of his project.

"How many survived?" She was finally reminded that she merely crashed someone else’s mission when a new voice joined the conversation.

Agent Collins wasn’t sure if she expected to see anyone when she turned, but she definitely didn’t expect to see the Avengers there. With them being in the premises, that meant only one thing: she just crashed into an Avengers’ mission. Uh-oh.

She was in for an intense earful once S.H.I.E.L.D. hears, for sure.

"One," she heard Dr. Fischer answer. "Her."

Agent Collins waited for this day way before she even regained enough of her right mind.

Once she understood how Phantom Riptide came to be, her fear and grief manifested into a lot of things — including the need for revenge.

"However entertaining stalling you have been," Dr. Wilhelm Fischer started a moment after answering one of the Avengers’ questions, "I’m afraid my ride is almost here."

"Wait," Agent Collins chose that moment to interrupt. She looked up to the HYDRA agents guarding her, "my legs fell asleep. Can you guys help me stand?"

Sensing no harm in her simple request, Dr. Fischer motioned for one of the HYDRA agents to help her up.

Except, unbeknownst to anyone else, that was just a hoax to have one of them be at her arm’s reach.

Agent Collins secured a hold on a knife she had hidden in her boots while the HYDRA doctor was stalling for time. When one of her guards pulled her up, she carefully shifted her hold and blindly planted the knife on him.

Guard 1’s sudden stagger caught everyone’s attention. She used that second to lay the handcuffs down her wrist and force her arms apart, breaking herself free with a loud, satisfying sound.

Wasting no time, she immediately took another knife out and threw it in the air. She pulled out the knife she planted on Guard 1’s abdomen the same second the other knife landed on her free hand.

By the time her audience recovered from their shock, Guard 1 was already lying on the floor — bleeding out from a stab on his abdomen and two slits on his throat.

"Ugh," she couldn’t contain her disgust. She removed her goggles, as they were newly decorated with blood splutters. "I forgot how messy that can be."

"What are you doing?" Dr. Fischer asked, dumbfounded. Despite the circumstance, she could hardly blame him. As far as she could remember, he never actually saw his most viable creation in action before — outside the mandatory trainings, that was.

"Cleaning up," she answered nonchalantly, as if she didn’t just kill a man with an audience. She casually took the gun from Guard 1’s belt. "I don’t like leaving witnesses."

To further prove her point, she threw a knife straight at Guard 2 without looking. She didn’t even turn to confirm if she succeeded in what she aimed to do, like she knew that the knife’s trajectory would only end at where she aimed for.

"The Winter Soldier trained you well." He made no move to alert anyone with eyes on him. He just subtly took a notebook from somewhere behind him, without looking away from her figure.

Rather dramatically, she did a somersault to avoid the bullet from Guard 2’s barrel. As the latter was sporting a newly impaled eye, his aim was unsteady. Which was a stark contrast to hers, despite firing her gun twice whilst in the air.

The bullets hit Guard 2 on his chest, one hitting right in the area where his heart lied.

She landed perfectly on her feet, now back to facing the doctor. "If I ever see him again, I’ll be sure to pass on your compliment."

Even with the two HYDRA agents dead, Dr. Fischer was seemingly unfazed that he was left alone with her and the Avengers. He merely flipped the pages of the notebook on his hands.

Agent Collins observed the cover of the notebook. It was a plain navy blue, with white waves near the top.

Oh.

"Loathe," he began reading. "Young."

She moved closer to the Avengers, not bothering for introductions before conversing with them in a low tone. "You guys are done questioning him, right? Can I kill him now?"

Purely based on his outfit, she assumed Captain America was the one who responded. "We have to take him into custody."

"Archangel."

"Yeah, no. That’s not happening." If anyone could see under her hood, they would see the quick judging look she casted him. "No offense, but he’s literally trying to trigger me right now. He’s not gonna go with you alive."

She quieted down for a moment, just long enough to let them hear Dr. Fischer continue reading off of the notebook. "Four. Deception."

"You have," she paused as she counted in her head, "five words left before Hell breaks loose. Decide quickly."

"Spring."

"Is killing him your mission?" Black Widow asked, eyes obviously trying to read everything she could.

"It’s more for personal revenge; but sure, you can say that."

"Clever."

"Fine, you can kill him." Iron Man eventually gave her permission. "But you’re answering to our superiors when they question why we brought Fischer dead."

Agent Collins fought the urge to say that she’d have to answer to Director Fury either way. She figured it was best that the Avengers didn’t know she was with S.H.I.E.L.D., at least until they were safely away from a HYDRA base.

"Stark. Orphan."

Instead of saying anything to acknowledge the given permission, she murmured a comment to herself. "‘Stark’ isn’t Russian."

Truthfully, she didn’t have her trigger words memorized. She just knew the first word, for the obvious reason of it being the beginning. Somehow, though, she also remembered the last two words Dr. Fischer just uttered. Not because they were near the end, as she couldn’t even recall the very last word, but because they seemed as though they were purposefully listed in that order.

It certainly didn’t help that ‘Stark’ was the only trigger word in English, either.

"Eighth." Dr. Fischer looked up as he closed the notebook. He sported a satisfied smirk when his eyes landed on her unmoving figure. "Experiment 218?"

She made a show of the daggers hidden in her sleeves falling perfectly onto her grasp. "Ready to comply."

"Kill them."

next shore >

#bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes scenarios #bucky barnes oneshots #bucky barnes fanfics #bucky barnes fics #bucky barnes #the white wolf #the winter soldier #marvel #mcu #avengers #the white wolf imagines #the winter soldier imagines #marvel imagines #mcu imagines #platonic!bucky barnes x reader #platonic!avengers x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader

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singlecrow · 5 months

Note

For the fanfic ask meme: O and/or P?

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?

Both! Actually, a story for me consists of the following:

the beginning;

the worldbuilding;

something decisive and transformative that happens at the 2/3 point;

the end.

there's this one mash story of mine, Samhain - a good example because the structure of it completely eluded me for weeks so I thought about it a lot. That story begins with a long, complicated set-up - the idea is that Hawkeye & co. live in a sort-of fantasy universe, full of ghosts and strange magics, although they are still army doctors in a small village in South Korea. All of that I had with me at the start.

Then: at the two-thirds point, we see something that indicate that Hawkeye's POV is not reliable. This strange fantasy world may or may not be real, but Hawkeye himself is definitely somewhere else in his head. That's the transformative point, the other thing that came to me when I first had the idea for this story. I needed more plot, to get Hawkeye from his gentle beginning to the point where it can't help but be obvious to the reader that he's not in his right mind; and I needed the character bit, i.e. what about him has made him susceptible to not being in his right mind. But I didn't have either of those to start with except knowing vaguely that they were out there somewhere.

(Brief aside into how much I love fanfiction as a specific form. If you were writing this as pro fic, you'd have to do so much work to show why this character's mental state means he's an unreliable narrator. But because we have this shared context, as fannish people; because we understand the way the genre works, you can just gesture at it, precisely but not in great detail. Why is Hawkeye Pierce an unreliable narrator? Oh. Yes. Right. And you don't need more than a handful of paras on it.)

And the end: I never have an idea for a story without knowing how it ends. So that's definitely plot (in this particular case, it's the revelation for the reader - if he's not living in a magical universe, where is he really) and also a little bit of character (how has the character changed in the course of living through this story) but I think of it in terms of both.

Was that useful/interesting? I hope so!

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

If I plan a story entirely in advance, it flattens it for me. I can't outline in detail, because that takes away the pleasure of writing. I have a 40k novella on my hard drive that I could send out, and never have because I outlined it first and now I hate it too much.

But I'm not a gardener (is this what you hear described as "pantser" elsewhere? pants in British English are not trousers. I digress). I like my stories, both reading and writing, to have very tight structure. And I think, also, my prose style isn't particularly helpful for being a gardener. As you and everyone else knows, I don't use a lot of words where a few will do. (A. describes me as "laconic", which I love.) And to use that economical style, I need to know exactly where I'm going and why. So it's helpful for me to build my barn with beams, and sort of do the thatch later. Which is I hope a meaningful analogy? It basically means, both. Some planning, some growth.

#writing #mash #look how I didn't throw shade at grr martin here #my stories have their flaws but they do at least EXIST

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alj4890 · 2 years

Text

Don't Let the Light Go Out

Open Heart Drabble

Song inspiration: Don't Let the Light Go Out by Panic! At the Disco

A/N taken from book 2's attack and more as a "what if" to the canon storyline. I haven't written an Open Heart fic in a while, and certainly not one with this particular character as the main focus, LOL, so please forgive me if I mess this up. When I first heard the above song, for some reason, he was the first one I thought about for this situation.

Rating: G for angsty fluff

Not sure who to tag so I'm racking my brain for some OH tags I remember and a few on my perma list, LOL! @hopelessromantic1352 @openheartfanfics @krsnlove @lucy-268 @choicesficwriterscreations @moodmusicmonday @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam

Masterlist

He had to keep searching, keep thinking. There must be a way to create a cure to save her. Failure was not an option. He must ignore the dread that kept creeping up with each and every setback.

If he for a moment allowed it to seep in, then he would lose her.

Lose his light.

Nothing described her better than that. No matter what type of mood he was in, seeing her simply brightened his spirits. Even if he was in a good mood, she somehow made it even better.

But today...seeing her made him, for the first time ever, desperate.

Chris Valentine, funny and irrepressible, had a way of making it impossible to ignore her.

He knew he wasn't the only one susceptible to her charm. He eyed the others at the table who were also frantically searching for anything that could help stop the toxin from killing her. There were at least two he knew had tried to have a romantic relationship with Chris. He couldn't blame them. After all, he lost his heart to her too.

Aurora reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You look like you could use a break."

He glanced up, realizing he had been staring off into space for more than a minute.

"I'll be back." He needed to see his reason for being in this room.

Slipping quietly out of the room, he went to check on her.

He stood by the window and watched Chris tremble as she tugged a blanket up over her shoulders.

Glancing up, she flashed a weak smile when she saw him.

"Hey you." She greeted in a raspy voice. "What's a man like you doing in a place like this?"

Despite the circumstances, he found himself chuckling.

"You know me," he shrugged with a smug grin, "I heard there was someone here in need of the world's best diagnotician."

She rolled her eyes and groaned.

"Aren't I sick enough?" She tried to tease. "To have to deal with your ego right now is too much."

Their smiles dimmed.

"Chris." His voice cracked. "I will find a cure. I will administer it. And then you and I are no longer going to hide."

Her lips parted with a slight gasp. "You...you want to tell everyone? About us?"

He nodded, swallowing at the lump of emotion in his throat. For months now he'd tried to keep his true feelings from showing in front of those she lived and worked with. He knew their relationship could cause problems for her in her new position on the diagnostics team. How could he ruin something she was both excited for and brilliant at?

And she was brilliant. He marveled with how she came to correct conclusions with such little time in the field. It didn't matter that she claimed she had so many people in her life who pushed her on to being the best she could be. He knew deep down that she was just one of those lucky few born to be a doctor.

He swallowed once more as his eyes drifted along the features he had fallen for. From the moment he laid eyes upon her as she frantically worked over a person who had collapsed, he'd been struck with an instant attraction. Her pale skin that would turn a light pink when embarrassed or when she had too much to drink made him want to reach out and touch her. The red hair that glistened copper in the sunlight captured his attention. The stormy gray eyes that could see past his gloating and joking to the heart of who he truly was were something he couldn't fathom losing.

And what he truly was...he was hers.

"Tobias?" She licked her parched lips. "Listen, if you want to wait--"

He shook his head. "I only wanted to because of Ethan. I was worried his hatred of me would be directed towards you since Naveen was the one to put you on the team."

Chris became quiet as she gazed at him.

"What are you thinking about?" Tobias asked.

"How happy I am that I went to breakfast with Aurora that morning." Her lips curved. "She might have been the one to get a new job, but I got you instead."

Tobias chuckled once again. "You made eating pancakes look good. There was no way I was going to leave without your number."

Her laughter was hollow and quickly turned into a cough.

He gripped the metal pane, wishing he could go past this glass barrier and hold her.

Once she caught her breath, she turned tear filled eyes towards him.

"Dr. Carrick," her smile trembled, "I love you and believe that you can do anything you set out to do."

Unshed tears stung his eyes.

"I love you too, Dr. Valentine." His voice deepened. "Please, hold on a little longer for me Chris."

"I will." She promised. "I have a lot of plans for us if we're finally admitting what we are."

His cocky smile returning once more made her heart flutter.

"They'll have to wait." He pushed away from the window. "I've got some plans that will have to be done first."

She watched him disappear down the hallway.

Breathing a prayer, she turned on her side and did her best to hold on a little longer.

#choices open heart #oh tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #choices stories you play #play choices fanfic #choices fanfic writers creations #mood music monday #open heart fanfiction

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abbygraceasd · 1 year

Text

The Age of Steel

The Doctor points the power cell at the Cybermen, which fires a shot of golden light that bounds off one of them and onto the others, they are all disintegrated.

“What the hell was that?”

“We’ll have that instead, run!” We run off the lawn and Mrs. Moore arrives in the van, “Everybody in!”

The van is driving along at a steady speed now, relatively calm.

I listen to the argument happening in front of me passively.

“That’s the only reason I was working for Lumic. To get information. I thought I was broadcasting to the Security Services, and what do I get? Scooby-Doo and his gang. They’ve even got the van!”

Mickey chimes in, “No, no no! But the Preachers know what they’re doing. Ricky said he’s London’s Most Wanted!”

“I’m London’s Most Wanted for… parking tickets.”

I look at Gabby, she avoids my gaze.

“They were deliberate! I was fighting the system! Park anywhere, that’s me.”

“Good policy. I do much the same. I’m the Doctor, by the way, if anyone’s interested.” “And I’m Rose. Hello!”

“I’m Gabby, Abby’s variant from this universe.” Gabby smiles at them, turning to look at me, “I still can’t believe I made contact with a telepathic spaceship.”

The Doctor looks intrigued by this, “What?” “Oh, Gabby here is just brilliant, she made a machine capable of multiversal communication. It made contact with the tardis, that’s why she crashed us here, cause she saw into Gabby’s mind and knew this world needed help.” I tell him.

He raises his eyebrows, “That’s certainly something.”

“Oh, not nearly as cool as your people inventing time travel.”

“I’d argue that multiversal communication is a bit more important than time travel.” He grins.

“Oi! Stop flirting with my girl!”

The Doctor looks at him, “Your girl?” He looks between them, “You two are dating?”

“Have been for three years.” Gabby smiles proudly.

“Isn’t that how long you’ve known me?” Rose whispers.

I nod, “Yeah, weird to think that without you that happens.”

We walk along the street, watching the people march in the same direction.

“What the hell?”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s the ear-pods. Lumic’s taking control.” “Can’t we just… I dunno, take them off?” Rose reaches up to one of the men to take his ear-pods out, but the Doctor stops her.

“Don’t! Cause a brainstorm. Human Race, for such an intelligent lot, you aren’t half susceptible. Give anyone a chance to take control and you submit. Sometimes I think you like it. Easy life.”

Jake calls us over, “Come and see.”

We join him and Ricky in looking around the corner. A row of cybermen march alongside the people under the control of the ear-pods, still heading in the same direction.

“Where are they all going?” Rose asks.

“I don’t know. Lumic must have a base of operation.”

“Battersea. That’s where he was building his prototypes.” Pete responds.

“Why’s he doing it?” I ask.

“He’s dying. This all started out as a way of life by keeping the brain alive. At any cost.”

The Doctor and Rose whisper about the origins of Cybermen before Pete snaps them out of it, “What the hell are you two on about?”

“Never mind that. Come on, we need to get out of the city.” Ricky says.

The Cybermen are fast approaching down the street.

“Okay, split up, Mrs. Moore, you look after that bloke. Jake, distract them, go right, I’ll go left, we’ll meet back at Bridge Street. Move.” Ricky runs off in one direction, Jake in the other.

Mickey turns to Rose, “I’m going with him.” He kisses Rose briefly and follows Ricky.

“Come on, let’s go.” Mrs. Moore says.

We all run off. The Cybermen marching towards us.

“There!” We run down a side alley.

We crouch behind a pile of rubbish and dustbins. I clutch Gabby’s hand. The Doctor points his sonic screwdriver in the direction of the Cybermen that have followed us down the alley. It bleeps and they go on their way.

We all stand warily and watch the Cybermen march off into the distance.

“Go.” The Doctor whispers.

We creep out from behind the dustbins and run in the opposite direction.

Soon enough, Jake joins back with us.

“I ran past the river. You should’ve seen it, the whole city’s on the watch. Hundreds of Cybermen all down the Thames.”

Mickey runs towards us, alone.

“Here he is!” Mickey doesn’t reply. He comes to a halt.

Jake furrows his brow, “Which one are you?”

“I’m sorry. The Cybermen, he couldn’t…” “Are you Ricky?” Gabby lets go of me and stares at him, “Are you Ricky?”

“Mickey, that’s you, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Rose runs to him and throws his arms around him. Jake is silent.

“He tried. He was running…”

Gabby’s eyes fill with tears, and she turns away.

“There were too many of them.”

“Shut up.” Gabby looks in pain.

“There was nothing I could do.” She spins around, “I said shut up! Don’t even talk about him.”

The Doctor speaks calmly, “We can mourn him when London is safe. But now, we move on.”

We nod miserably.

We walk up a slope that overlooks the river - Battersea is on the opposite bank.

“The whole of London’s been sealed off, and the entire population’s been taken inside that place. To be ‘converted’.”

“We’ve gotta get in there and shut it down.” Rose says.

“How do we do that?” Mickey asks.

“Oh, I’ll think of something.”

I scoff, “You’re just making this up as you go along!”

“Yup. But I do it brilliantly.” He grins at me.

I look at Gabby and we both roll our eyes.

Mrs. Moore has her laptop out, and has a 3D model of the factory on the screen, “That’s a schematic of the old factory. Look, cooling tunnels… underneath the plant… big enough to walk through.”

Everyone crowds around the laptop on a bench, except Jake, who stands some distance away.

“We go under there and up into the control center?”

Mrs. Moore nods. “There’s another way in.” Pete starts, “Through the front door. If they’ve taken Jackie for upgrading, that’s how she’ll get in…”

Jake finally walks over to us, “We can’t just go strolling up.”

“Or, we could… with these…” Mrs. Moore takes out a set of ear-pods from her bag. The Doctor takes one.

“Fake ear-pods. Dead. no signal. But put them on, the Cybermen would mistake you for one of the crowd.”

“Then that’s my job.” Pete decides.

“You’d have to show no emotion. None at all. Any sign of emotion would give you away.” The Doctor tells him.

Rose looks to Mrs. Moore, “How many of those have you got?”

“Just two sets.”

“Okay. If that’s the best way of finding Jackie… I’m coming with you.” She gets up and stands next to Pete.

“Why does she matter to you?”

“We haven’t got time. Doctor, I’m going with him, and that’s that.”

The Doctor stares at her, “No stopping you, is there?”

“Nope.”

The Doctor chucks the ear-pods to her, “Tell you what… we can take the ear-pods at the same time. Give people their minds back. So they don’t walk into that place like sheep. Jakey-boy?” He leads Jake further up the hill for a better look at Battersea and the zeppelin stationed above it, “Lumic’s transmitting the control signal, and it must be from over there…” He points the sonic screwdriver in the general direction. It bleeps. “There it is… on the zeppelin, see? Great big transmitter. Good thing Lumic likes showing off. Reckon you could take it out?”

Jake smiles, “Consider it done.”

The Doctor pats him on the shoulder and goes back to us, “Mrs. Moore… would you care to accompany me into the cooling tunnels?”

“How could I refuse an offer of cooling tunnels?”

“We attack on three sides, above, between - below. We get to the control center, we stop the conversion machines.”

I share a look with Mickey and Gabby, “What about us?”

We’re standing slightly apart from the group, forgotten. Everyone looks over at us like they’ve only just remembered we’re there. “Ah! You can… ahm…”

I get angry, “What? Stay in the van so I’m safe? No way.”

Gabby puts her hand on my shoulder, “She and Mickey can go with Jake. I’ll go with you and Mrs. Moore.”

A trap door opens into the cooling tunnels. Mrs. Moore descends a ladder followed by the Doctor and lastly Gabby. Her foot slips on one of the rungs and she falls. The Doctor stabilizes her by putting his hand on her waist, “You alright?”

She nods, brushing his hands off, “Fine.”

“It’s freezing here.”

“Any sign of a light switch?”

Mrs. Moore laughs, “Can’t see a thing. But I’ve got these…” She rummages through her bag and hands the Doctor a light that can be tied around his head, “A device for every occasion…”

“Ooh!”

“Put it on.” She finds one for herself and gives one to Gabby.

“Haven’t got a hotdog in there, have you? I’m starving.”

Gabby gags, “Of all the things to wish for! That’s mechanically recovered meat!”

“I know. It’s the Cyberman of food, but it’s tasty.”

Mrs. Moore hands him a flashlight, “A proper torch as well.”

“Let’s see where we are.” He switches the flashlight on and takes a few steps forward. The first thing the light falls on is a Cyberman. There are hundreds of them lining the cooling tunnels, but they are lifeless, “Already converted, just paralyzed. Come on!” He walks forward, ready to start the journey down the cooling tunnels. After a moment's hesitation, Mrs. Moore follows. The Doctor pauses and raps one on the nose (or where the nose should be) which elicits no response.

“Let’s go slowly. Keep an eye out for trip systems.”

They edge slowly and warily down the tunnel, past lifeless Cyberman after lifeless Cyberman.

Jake has climbed a ladder to the roof of the building, over which the zeppelin is parked. Mickey and I follow him. Jake creeps stealthily behind a wall to avoid being noticed by the guards standing beneath the zeppelin and beckons to us.

“Two guards. We can take them.” Jake says.

“Don’t kill them.” Mickey stops him.

“Who put you in charge?” Jake asks.

“If you kill them, what’s the difference between you and a Cyberman?” I counter.

Jake pauses, “Well, I suppose we could use these.” He hands Mickey a small corked bottle.

“Smelling salts?”

“Bit stronger than that. One of Mrs. Moore’s little tricks. Should knock them out. Three, two, one…” They run out from behind the wall and creep up behind the guards. They grab them from behind and shove the ‘smelling salts’ under their noses. They’re unconscious in seconds.

“There’s gotta be more guards on board.” I tell them. “Then let’s go get them.” Jake smiles.

We start to climb the ladder to the zeppelin.

The Doctor, Mrs. Moore, and Gabby are still making their way stealthily along the tunnel.

“How’d you get into this, then? Rattling along with the Preachers?” The Doctor asks.

“Oh, I used to be ordinary. Worked at Cybus Industries. ‘95. ‘Til one day, I find something I’m not supposed to. A file on the mainframe. All I did was read it. Then suddenly, I’ve got men with guns knocking in the middle of the night. Life on the run. Then I found the Preachers. They needed a techy, so I… I just sat down and taught myself everything.” Mrs. Moore answers.

“What about Mr. Moore?” Gabby asks.

“Well, he’s not called Moore. I got that from a book, Mrs. Moore. It’s safer not to use real names. But he thinks I’m dead. It was the only way to keep him safe. Him and the kids. What about you? Got any family, or…?”

“Oh, who needs family? I’ve got the whole world on my shoulders. Go on then, what’s your real name?”

“Angela Price.” Mrs. Moore reveals, “Don’t tell a soul.”

“Not a word.” He smiles.

Mrs. Moore turns to Gabby, “What about you? I’ve known you for a few years and I still don’t know much about you, other than you’re from America.”

“Not much to tell, moved here when I was thirteen 'cause my family died, didn’t end up going to school past high school, met Ricky when I was nineteen, been with him and the Preachers ever since.” Gabby frowns.

“But how did you figure out multiversal communication if you didn’t go to university?” The Doctor asks.

Gabby shrugs, “I don’t know, I’ve always believed in things that most people don’t. The multiversal theory has been around for ages, I’m hardly the first one to think about it.”

“Still, you must be incredibly intelligent to create a device that’s capable of communicating with other universes.”

“I’m not that smart. I’ve always been interested in radios, and when the earpods started coming out I got a pair and took them apart. Then I hooked ‘em into the radio I built from scraps, and started messing around with the frequencies. It only worked after I hooked it into the power grid, and even then it was only for a minute, and apparently, it reached the Tardis in your universe.” She explains.

Before they can continue the conversation Mrs. Moore notices a Cyberman’s hand twitch, “Doctor? Did that one just move?” “It’s just the torchlight. Keep going, come on.”

Another one, just in front of them, definitely turns.

“They’re waking up… run!”

They run down the cooling tunnel as fast as they can. As they go, the Cybermen spring to life, one after another. They begin to march forwards just as they reach the ladder at the end of the tunnel. They scramble to get up it.

“Get up! Quick! They’re coming!”

The Doctor attempts to open the seal with his sonic screwdriver.

“Open it! Open it!”

He succeeds and tosses the door aside.

“Get up!”

They climb up the ladder as fast as they can.

“Quick! Quick!” “Come on! Come on!” They climb out of the trapdoor, the Cybermen are following, but they manage to slam the door closed just in time. The Doctor seals it with his sonic screwdriver.

“Oh, good team, girls!” They nod.

Having successfully drugged another guard, we enter the control room of the zeppelin.

“Nice one.” Jake sees the room deserted, “Nobody’s home. Find the transmitter controls.”

“What do they look like?” Mickey asks.

“Well, I don’t know, they might have ‘transmitter controls’ written in big red letters, just look!” Jake shrugs.

We all look around the control room. Mickey turns and jumps to see a Cyberman standing in a dark alcove.

“Cyberman!” Jake points his gun at it.

But it doesn’t move. Confused, Jake moves closer and turns a light switch, illuminating the alcove. Mickey and I take a few steps closer to examine it.

“It’s dead. I don’t think it was ever alive.” I tap it on the head, and it sounds hollow, “It’s empty. No brain. It’s just a robot suit. It’s for display.”

“Okay. Transmitter.” Jake nods.

We head off in different directions to search for the transmitter.

The Doctor, Mrs. Moore, and Gabby edge along a dark metal corridor. Suddenly a Cyberman steps out in front of them. They all jump.

“You are not upgraded.”

“Yeah? Well, upgrade this.” Gabby throws a small metal device at the Cyberman - it sticks to its chest. It sparks and causes the cyberman to be electrocuted. It shakes and jerks, and then slumps to the floor. The Doctor looks delighted.

“What the hell was that thing?!”

They approach the body.

“Electromagnetic bomb. Takes out computers, figured it might stop the cyber-suit.” She shrugs.

“You figured right. Now, let’s have a look.” He takes out his sonic screwdriver, bends down, and holds it to the Cybus logo on its chest, “Now… know your enemy… and the logo on the front… Lumic’s turned them into a brand.” He takes the logo off so they can see inside the Cyberman, showing the two women, “Heart of steel… but look…” He puts his fingers inside the Cyberman and draws out some bodily tissues.

“Is that flesh?”

“Hmmm… central nervous system. Artificially grown and then threaded throughout the suit so it responds like a living thing. Well, it is a living thing. Oh, but look…” He carefully fingers an electronic chip, “Emotional inhibitor. Stops them feeling anything.”

“But… why?”

“It’s still got a human brain… imagine its reaction if it could see itself. Realize itself inside this thing. They’d go insane…”

“So they cut out the one thing that makes them human.” “Because they have to.”

“Why am I cold?” The Cyberman speaks.

“Oh, my god. It’s alive. It can feel.”

“We broke the inhibitor.” He leans over the Cyberman, and touches its head, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” “Why so cold?”

“Can you remember your name?”

“Sally, Sally Phelan.”

“You’re a woman…”

“Where’s Gareth?”

“Who’s Gareth?” Gabby asks.

“He can’t see me. It’s unlucky the night before.”

“You’re getting married.” Mrs. Moore realizes.

“I’m cold. I’m so cold.”

“Sorry. You can sleep now, Sally. Just go to sleep.” He points the sonic screwdriver just inside the suit. The blue light inside goes out.

“Sally Phelan didn’t die for nothing.” It dawns on him, “‘Cos that’s the key. The emotional inhibitor, if we could find the code behind it, the cancellation code, then feed it throughout the system into every Cyberman’s head…”

Mrs. Moore and Gabby nod.

“They’d realize what they are…”

“And what happens then?” Gabby asks.

“I think it would kill them.” His brow furrows, “Could we do that?”

“We’ve got to. Before they kill everyone else.” Mrs. Moore tells him, “There’s no choice, Doctor. It’s got to be done.”

She stands. The Doctor is still staring at Sally’s body with Gabby. None of them notice that a Cyberman is standing behind Mrs. Moore. It grabs her by the neck and kills her.

They stand in horror, the Doctor pushing Gabby behind him.

“No! No! You didn’t have to kill her!” He speaks furiously.

“Sensors detect a binary vascular system. You are an unknown upgrade. You will be taken for analysis.”

The Doctor, looking disgusted by them, allows himself to be led off by two other Cyberman, Gabby following behind.

Jake goes over to Mickey and me who are standing by a panel that is indeed labeled ‘transmitter controls’.

“The transmitter controls are sealed behind here, we need a blow torch or something.”

“Oh, no I forgot to bring it with me.” Jake speaks sarcastically.

“Well, then what do we do?” I ask.

“We’ll crash the zeppelin.” Jake says it like it's obvious.

“With us inside?” Mickey asks.

“We could set it to automatic and then just leg it! Let’s have a look.”

The two of them go over to the controls.

Jake taps on the keyboard and shakes his head, “It’s locked. There’s gotta be an override…”

Mickey shoves Jake out of the way, “Let me have a go. I’m good with computers, trust me.”

Mickey taps on the keyboard and we stand watching.

“Almost there.”

“Not bad work.”

The Cyberman steps out of the alcove.

“It’s moving!”

We all back away.

“You said it was dead!”

“Yeah. But it’s still a steel robot.”

Jake points his gun at it.

I push his hand down, “Wait a minute. Hey, Cyberman! Over here!”

The cyberman turns.

“Come on, you brainless lump of metal.” It stomps towards us, and I beckon it forward.

“Come and have a go!”

The Cyberman raises its fist, ready to strike, We all duck out of the way at the last second, and its fist slams into the transmitter controls. It explodes with blue electricity, destroying both the controls and the Cyberman.

“The transmitter’s down!”

We all hug.

“Hold on, I’ve logged on to Cyber Control.” Mickey has managed to hack into a security camera overlooking Cyber Control where the Doctor is.

“They’re alive! The Doctor and Rose, there they are!” Mickey speaks in excitement.

“Never mind them, what the hell is that thing?” Jake points to the Cyberman in an elaborate chair.

“Shh. Has this thing got sound?” Mickey taps on the keyboard, giving us audio.

“I will bring peace to the world. Everlasting peace, unity, and uniformity.”

“And imagination? What about that? The one thing that led you here. Imagination, you’re killing it, dead!”

“What is your name?”

“I’m the Doctor.”

“A redundant title. Doctors need not exist. Cybermen never sicken.” The Doctor steps forward, “Yes, but that’s it! That’s exactly the point! Oh, Lumic, you’re a clever man… I’d call you a genius, except I’m in the room. But everything you’ve invented, you did to fight your sickness. And that's brilliant. That is so human. But once you get rid of sickness and mortality, then what’s there to strive for? Eh? The Cybermen won’t advance. You’ll just stop! You’ll stay like this forever. A metal Earth with metal men and metal thoughts. Lacking the one thing that makes this planet so alive. People. Ordinary, stupid, brilliant people.”

“You are proud of your emotions?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Then tell me, Doctor, have you known grief, rage, and pain?”

“Yes. Yes, I have.”

“And they hurt?”

“Oh yes.” “I could set you free. Would you not want that? A life without pain?”

“You might as well kill me.”

“Then I take that option.”

“It’s not yours to take. You’re a cyber controller. You don’t control me or anything with blood in its heart.”

“You have no means of stopping me. I have an army. A species of my own.”

The Doctor puts his face in his palm, “You just don’t get it, do you? An army’s nothing. ‘Cos those ordinary people, they’re the key.” He glances at the security camera, “The most ordinary person could change the world.”

Mickey nods at this.

“Some ordinary man, or woman… some idiot…”

Mickey’s head jerks up. He stares.

“All it takes is for him to find, say, the right numbers… say, the right codes… say, for example, the code behind the emotional inhibitor. The code right in front of him. ‘Cos even an idiot knows how to use computers these days.”

Mickey’s mouth is open.

“Knows how to get past firewalls and passwords… knows how to find something encrypted in the Lumic Family Database, under… what was it, Pete? Binary what?”

Pete speaks loudly, “Binary 9.”

Mickey repeats it in a whisper, beginning to type. The code starts to appear number by number on the screen.

“An idiot could find that code. The cancellation code. And he’d keep on typing. Keep on fighting.” The Doctor looks meaningfully into the camera, “Anything to save his friends…”

“Your words are irrelevant.”

The Doctor grins, “Talk too much, that’s my problem. Lucky I got you that cheap tariff, Rose. For all our long chats. On your phone.”

“The phone…” Mickey takes out his mobile.

“You will be deleted.”

“Yes, delete, control, hash, all those lovely buttons.”

Mickey types the numbers into his phone as a text message.

“Then, of course, my particular favorite, send.”

Mickey presses send.

“And let’s not forget how you seduced all those ordinary people in the

first place.” Rose’s phone beeps.

“By making every bit of technology compatible with everything else…” He loiters on one particular computer.

“It’s for you.” Rose chucks him her phone.

He catches it, “Like this.”

He shoves it into a port. All hell breaks loose and the Cybermen clutch onto their heads, moaning. The code flashes on every single computer screen.

We jump up and down in delight.

“Yes!”

What have you done?” Lumic asks furiously.

“I gave them back their souls. They can see what you’ve done, Lumic! And it’s killing them.”

The Doctor, Rose, Gabby, and Pete run from the room.

Jake begins to turn the wheel of the zeppelin.

“What’re you doing?” Mickey asks.

“We’ve gotta get away. If that factory blows up, this balloon’s gonna ignite!”

“Take it back!” I shout.

“Abby, they’ve had it!” “I said, take it back!”

The zeppelin starts to drift away.

I shove Jake away from the wheel, “Mickey, hold him.”

He does what I ask.

I call Rose on speaker, “Head for the roof Rose!”

“Abby, where’d you learn to fly that thing?”

“Playstation. Just hold on, Rose. We’re coming for you.”

I find the lever for the hatch and pull it, releasing a rope ladder down to the roof.

The next morning…

Mickey, Jake, Gabby, and I walk up, Mickey holding the Doctor’s suit.

“Here it is! Not a crease.”

He takes it, “My suit! Good man. Now then, Jake, we’ve gotta run. But one more thing; Mrs. Moore. Her real name is Angela Price. She’s got a husband out there. And children. Find them. Tell them how she died saving the world.”

Jake nods, “Yeah, course I will.”

“Off we go, then!”

Mickey and I share a look.

I turn and walk over to Gabby.

“You’ll be okay right?” I ask.

“Yeah… Eventually, I suppose.” She smiles, “I’ll miss Ricky of course, but he’ll always be with me in a way.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Not sure yet. Probably work more on my multiversal communication, maybe even try multiversal travel.”

“I wish you luck.” I smile.

I bring her into a tight embrace.

Before we separate she whispers, “You should talk to him about how you’re feeling.”

“Watch it!” Mickey shouts.

We both turn to look at him.

I turn back to look at Gabby, “Goodbye.”

I walk back to the tardis and go inside.

#tenth doctor x oc #tenth doctor x reader #autistic!reader #doctor who x oc #doctor who x reader

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marley-manson · 2 years

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☕️ post-war hawkeye

Thanks for the ask!

I cannot stand the idea of Hawkeye retiring from his surgery career to be a small town doctor. As far as I'm concerned Hawkeye's post canon character arc should be getting back into surgery and reclaiming the career that he’s described as the only thing he ever wanted to do with his life.

I mentioned in the last ask that I'm not sure what the intent was with that in canon, it probably wasn't meant to be this tragic, but imo it's pretty easy to draw some angsty connections to explain why Hawk quits surgery. Maybe someday I'll write a fic about this, but til then here's meta I guess.

SO I think it comes back to Letters and Hawkeye questioning his role as a surgeon in a war zone, equating it to weapons repair, and saying he can't deny it and he can't live with it. In Letters the one thing that keeps him going is saving an innocent life, a Korean kid who presumably won't go on to kill more people.

Then, yk, in the finale he feels responsible for the death of an innocent baby. So that kind of rips away the one ray of hope in his existence as part of the army. It counteracts his ability to save people, makes it feel worthless and futile, and leaves him with nothing but death on his hands to show for his last two years as a surgeon. So now the thought of doing it for a living fucks him up.

And my ideal post-war Hawkeye fic would be Hawkeye dealing with this and getting over it by internalizing the fact that he was essentially a victim of the draft and he did what he could in the situation he was stuck in.

Anyway aside from that, hmm.

I don't think Hawkeye would isolate himself, or if he did, it would be... bad. A huge warning sign. Hawkeye always seeks people out, he hates being alone. I think his mental health would deteriorate very quickly in isolation, and Hawkeye knows it, and if he was isolating himself I would frankly expect like, a suicide attempt to follow lol.

tbh I don’t think he would necessarily be outwardly, overtly... troubled? idk a lot is made of Hawkeye coming home broken and fucked up and depressed and miserable etc and like, yeah he had a breakdown and he’s been in a war and he’s gonna have issues about it (and like I just detailed one of those issues up there), but I think he’s actually pretty well equipped to recover and already started the process in GFA, and I don’t think he’d be completely miserable at the start, or fundamentally changed overall.

Also while I’m planning to lean into the alcoholism in my own post-canon fic if I ever get that going, I actually think canon kinda implies the opposite. First with Bottle Fatigue where he belligerently proves he can drop the booze and is also the only one who worries about it, and then not drinking, or at least staying sober, in pretty noticeable contrast to BJ getting wasted at the farewell party, iirc.

I guess I think Hawkeye is actually pretty resilient, which is also a reason I can see him getting back into surgery once he deals with what I think is the underlying cause. His emotional vulnerability makes him more susceptible to the trauma of the war, as we see when he’s the character who has a climactic mental breakdown, but I think it also makes him more capable of healing.

Like whereas I envision BJ being a huge mess for years to come, eg, because he doesn’t really do self reflection or therapy, I see Hawkeye coming out the other side relatively soon (months, rather than years) and picking his life back up where he left off.

I think that’s also supported by a lot of what Sidney says to him in the various Hawkeye therapy episodes, eg suggesting that Hawkeye’s intense negative emotional reactions are a sign that he’s emotionally healthy in Hawk’s Nightmare, and again the general theme of “going insane in a war zone is a sane reaction.”

I also disregard Alan Alda pushing 50 while playing a 30 year old lol. I buy that he has greying hair now, that’s a fine detail, but I’m not really into taking every flaw and inadvertant side-effect of a long running tv show as diegetic canon, I’m more of a ‘just take it in the spirit intended and suspend your disbelief sometimes’ type, at least when it comes to Mash. So I’m not that into the idea of Daniel Pierce seeing Hawkeye and going omg he’s aged 20 years in 2 years what did the war do to him???? it feels a little over the top to me. Same way I just ignore that Radar is balding at 19.

I lean sliiiightly towards BJ keeping in touch with Hawkeye as opposed to detaching himself completely, because I really like the idea of BJ getting as weird about Hawkeye as he was about Peggy lol, but I also like the idea of BJ’s finale promises that they’ll keep in touch being as empty as his promise that a kid’s leg will be fine in that one episode. Tough call. If he did keep in touch Hawkeye would respond, and if he didn’t I could see Hawkeye not sending letters first. He does seem to have a bit of a fatalistic view of long distance relationships lol.

I’m a big fan of Hawkeye and Charles staying in touch and visiting each other, possibly working together. I think they could have a great post-war dynamic. Also a big fan of Hawkeye and Trapper reconnecting. I don’t think Hawkeye and Margaret would stay friends (I say this despite them being my favourite platonic relationship on the show lol) but they’d send each other yearly Christmas cards. Klinger would keep in touch. I’m ambivalent about everyone else.

And I’ve mentioned this a little bit but I like the idea of Hawkeye getting more political rather than dropping it after the war. He’s talked about how great protesting is, he writes angry letters about societal issues, when he cares about something it translates to wanting to actively do something, and I don’t see that as just a war-time coping mechanism. If he was a real person who knows how his politics would e or devolve lol, but as a fictional construct he’s essentially defined as a politically aware bleeding heart with socialist tendencies in comparsion to everyone else on the show so I see no reason to assume that would go away.

Oh also finally in theory I kind of dig the idea of Hawkeye/some dude he didn’t meet in Korea. I like Hawkeye/Trapper post-war endgame a lot, but I think like... thematically Hawkeye getting together with some guy unassociated with the war would be the most fitting post-canon relationship.

send me a ☕️ and a topic and i’ll talk about how i feel about it

#mash #text post #marley on mash #hawkeye mash #ask

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timelxrd-victorious · 1 year

Text

I posted 880 times in 2022

That's 669 more posts than 2021!

293 posts created (33%)

587 posts reblogged (67%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@timelxrd-victorious-a

@timelxrd-victorious

@winloseorcharmed

@heroparadigm

@etcor-archive

I tagged 849 of my posts in 2022

Only 4% of my posts had no tags

#takes all those he's crossed ( teine | greyfaces. ) - 186 posts

#out of gallifrey ( ooc ) - 129 posts

#fire and ice and rage ( teine ) - 62 posts

#( bramble watches doctor who. ) - 48 posts

#v: the time lord victorious ( main ) - 47 posts

#an awful lot of running ( meme. ) - 40 posts

#that's how i see the universe ( headcanon ) - 30 posts

#you're just a punk. that's what you are ( crack ) - 28 posts

#v. time is calling - 22 posts

#bramble makes things ( edits. ) - 22 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#[ whereas with joan he could turn back to human but he doesn't want to do so because he very much is not human and doesn't want that life ]

My Top Posts in 2022:

Some of my favorite things about Gallifreyan physiology

because there’s far more to Gallifreyan Time Lord internal anatomy than two hearts and the ability to regenerate

their skin smells like honey

core body temperature of 15 degrees Celsius (~60 degrees Fahrenheit) and capable of dropping to below-freezing temperatures

they have two more ribs than humans (26 compared to a human’s 24)

they’re touch-telepaths and Time Lords have a reflex link which allows them to join the entire Time Lord hivemind intelligentsia as one

Gallifreyan brains are much larger than human brains with an extra brain lobe specifically used for mechanical and other bodily functions; their larger brain sizes make it impossible for brain transplants between humans and Gallifreyans

Gallifreyans have complete control over their eyes, to the point that their retinas are basically sentient (no, really)

On Gallifrey, the retina had almost replaced the fingers as the main method of communicating with machines. The human eye was not so sophisticated, just an aerial, a dish of light‐ sensitive cells shunting their observations through the blind spot. The brain had to do all of the processing, flipping the image the right way up, making sense of the movement, the shapes, the narrow range of colours. But the Time Lord retina could do a reasonable amount of thinking on its own. This could be annoying when one was trying to sleep, but it was the ideal means of talking to a computer – as well as a built‐ in identity check. —Seeing I, Jonathan Blum & Kate Orman

their eyes also do the eyeshine-in-the-dark thing that feline, canine, and equine eyes do

their blood is red-orange, has healing properties, and doesn’t even look like blood under a microscope

Gallifreyans don’t have lungs; instead they have a series of pulmonary tubes and have a respiratory bypass that when activated allows them to breathe through their skin (the pulmonary tubes also make them incredibly buoyant so good luck trying to drown one)

they’re immune to the effects of helium gas, but are susceptible to the effects of mustard gas and can be killed if they’re given anesthetic and aspirin

they’re not intoxicated by alcohol, but can get drunk on ginger

for internal organs: they have two of everything humans have one of, four of everything humans have two of, and internal organs with no analogue in humans

15 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

me, catching up on Thirteen’s era

23 notes - Posted February 1, 2022

Link to pdf files of The Book of the War. Downloaded years ago from VK.

30 notes - Posted February 20, 2022

Some thoughts on RTD vs Moffat vs Chibnall’s eras as I’m making my way through series 4 in my NuWho rewatch (probably gonna skip Moffat’s whole era, though).

From what I do remember of watching Moffat's era + what little I have learned about Chibnall's era so far... wow I have never seen a showrunner have as much contempt and disrespect for the showrunner that came before them that Moffat has for RTD (except for maybe the three showrunners of the Charmed reboot)

Even during the episodes Moffat wrote during Nine and Ten's eras, they feel so disjointed from the rest of the series they're in:

“The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances” introduces Jack Harkness, true, but he was a RTD character to begin with; there’s not much going on in this episode that connects to the larger arc of the season, other than Jack meeting and joining Team TARDIS

“The Girl in the Fireplace” completely disregards Rose being uncomfortable with the idea of Mickey traveling in the TARDIS with her and the Doctor, and it completely ditches the whole undercurrent of Ten and Rose’s growing relationship into a romance, recasting Rose as the nagging wife to Reinette’s shiny new mistress (thanks, I hate it)

“Blink” literally cuts the Doctor and Martha out for most of the story, and when they do finally show up, the Doctor gets most of the screentime whereas Martha gets only a handful of speaking lines (if that; Martha is usually either out-of-focus when the Doctor is onscreen, or she’s off-screen entirely)

"Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead" focuses far more on Moffat’s OC River and her future adventures with Moffat's Doctor than it does Ten and Donna.

Moffat erased everything RTD put into the show's mythos from his version of canon, via the Cracks in Time (series 5), rebooting the universe (series 5) and completely retconning Gallifrey’s destruction during the LGTW (”The Day of the Doctor”) all while focusing on an entirely new incarnation of the Doctor who fought in the war--ignoring that Eight was perfectly capable of fighting in a time war and doing what was necessary to save the universe through developments in the comics, Big Finish audio plays, and novels (the Tenth Doctor in that episode was also incredibly OOC even for Ten in his phase between Waters of Mars and The End of Time).

Even when Moffat did make references back to RTD’s era, it was only to episodes he’d written and characters he himself had introduced to canon (the sister ship to the SS Madame de Pompadour, the Weeping Angels, River Song, etc.) The few times Moffat has brought back or referenced RTD characters, it’s to have his own characters put them down and make his creations look better by comparison

Clara: “What chapter are you on?” her charge: “Ten.” Clara: “Eleven’s the best. You’ll cry your eyes out.”

everything regarding Simm!Master and Gomez!Master interacting

literally having Clara one-up Rose, Martha, and Donna combined by splintering echoes of herself along the Doctor’s timestream and having a Gallifreyan echo of herself encourage One to steal the TARDIS, not to mention Clara becoming one-half of the Hybrid with the other half being the Doctor

Eleven on Ten’s refusal to regenerate in Journey’s End: “I had vanity issues.”

Ten in the 50th: “I don’t want to go.” Eleven: “He always says that.”

In contrast, Chibnall has brought back Jack Harkness, the Judoon, a new male incarnation of the Master (that isn’t white, to boot), and actually made Moffat’s retcon of bringing back Gallifrey work within the narrative. He’s also drawn upon ideas that were seeded back in the Second and Seventh Doctor’s runs of the Doctor being far more than an ordinary Gallifreyan Time Lord and pretty much canonized both the Cartmel Masterplan and the Dr Nyarlathotep subtheory/expanded universe canon that the Doctor is a being from before the universe reborn into a Gallifreyan body.

40 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Funny how the DW fandom is “collectively” crying that Chibnall’s era is bad and wants Moffat back, because that was “when Doctor Who was good”, apparently, when, uh. Hmmm.

So we're just going to completely ignore the whole entire very vocal section of the fandom that hated Moffat's era and his writing in general from the word "go", eh? All the way back to when Moffat was writing episodes in the RTD era (“The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances”, “The Girl in the Fireplace”, “Blink”, “Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead”) and the problems seen in his own era were evident even back then?

We’re just going to ignore Moffat

having all his companions “wait for” the Doctor (Reinette, Amy, Clara, River)

having the white female companions or one-off characters meet the Doctor as a young girl, become obsessed with him, and have that obsession become sexual and have the female companion sexually assault him the moment she meets the Doctor as an adult again, when for the Doctor it’s only been something like ten minutes (Reinette, Amy, Clara, River)

romanticizing stalking (The Girl in the Fireplace; Blink; The Doctor, the Widow, and the Wardrobe; Series 7B’s arc with Clara, The Pilot)

retconning the massive piece of worldbuilding and one condition for the revived series to be brought back in the first place by the BBC, which was Gallifrey’s destruction in the Last Great Time War (The Day of the Doctor)

having his two Black companions die and come back as Cybermen (Danny Pink, Bill) whereas Clara 1) splinters echoes of herself throughout history, 2) ends up dying for real but then comes back, and 3) becomes immortal and gets her own TARDIS.

making the Twelfth Doctor blind for two episodes as a means of cheap drama, when 1) Gallifreyans are primarily telepathic, 2) Gallifreyans as a whole are faceblind anyway; and 3) it wasn’t even handled that well

playing off Vastra and Jenny’s relationship (they’re married lesbians, with one of them being a Silurian) in Victorian London solely for laughs, along with any other hints of queer characters and relationships being played for humor

constantly setting up convoluted story arcs and plotlines that are spread out for multiple seasons and then never get any pay-off, or are tied up in the most nonsensical shoddy way possible (series 5, series 6, series 7, everything involving the Silence and the “mystery” surrounding the Doctor’s name)

had the Twelfth Doctor constantly interrupt and talk over a Deaf character played by a Deaf actor, which again, was played for laughs

taking shots at RTD’s era and characters whenever possible to make his own characters and plotlines look better and cleverer, including erasing the majority of RTD’s era from continuity via the cracks in time and then rebooting the universe (not to mention the blatant classism directed at Rose and the palpable disdain for the Doctor/Rose Tyler as a ship) (The Day of the Doctor, The Bells of Saint John, The Girl in the Fireplace, etc.)

playing off the mere idea of the Doctor regenerating into a female body as a joke (The Curse of Fatal Death, 1999) when the Doctor had already been established in the expanded universe and Classic series as nonbinary by Gallifreyan and human standards

used a whole episode to argue that all refugees are actually evil, an invasion force, and “don’t trust refugees or immigrants who don’t want to assimilate into the culture of the country they’ve sought refuge in”

had River Song’s character revolve entirely around the Doctor

youtube

Moffat was an absolute shite showrunner, and plenty of people stopped watching at various points during his era (I personally know quite a few who stopped watching during series 6).

Whereas Chibnall... *checks notes*

had an episode set during Jim Crow-era, segregated 1950s Alabama, pointed out how the racism of the setting affected three of the Doctor’s companions more than xemself, and flat out said that while dealing with the racist time-traveller, the best they could do was get history back on track without helping Rosa Parks

had another episode focusing on religious tension, discrimination, and the dividing up families and neighbors across borders that didn’t exist previously

drew on Classic series and expanded universe canon to add on to the Doctor’s backstory: specifically, canonizing the Cartmel Masterplan

has the Doctor dealing with others around xem perceiving xem as a cis woman, even though xe was always nonbinary and never had really identified as a man

Thasmin

has the Doctor and the Master destroy Gallifrey again, because bringing it back in the first place was dumb and the Doctor doesn’t really want anything to do with Gallifrey in the first place

I don’t know about you, but one of these showrunners and the way he writes episodes is a lot worse in how he handles material. And it’s not Chibnall.

I said what I said.

And no, I do not accept criticism.

75 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Youtube

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mariacallous · 8 months

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Despite the Russian government’s brutal treatment of dissidents, Russians are continuing to protest against the war. The human rights organization OVD-Info estimates that over 200 pensioners have been convicted for anti-war activity since February 24, 2022. Despite serious health issues, many of them have been sent to prison and hit with exorbitant fines that their pensions are insufficient to cover. Journalists from the independent outlet Verstka examined how elderly Russians are refusing to abandon their convictions despite the risk of imprisonment. With their permission, Meduza is sharing an English-language version of the story.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

'What do they have to lose?'

Opinion polls from VTsIOM (the Russian Public Opinion Research Center) and FOM (Russia's Public Opinion Fund) found that when Moscow's “special military operation” began, nine out of 10 Russian residents who were either in retirement or approaching retirement age supported it. According to surveys conducted by the independent research group Russian Field in the summer of 2023, a plurality (43 percent) of elderly respondents (60 and older) supported an escalation of the “operation" in Ukraine.

The elderly are more disposed than people in other demographics to “cosplay World War II,” political scientist Konstantin Kalachev explained to Verstka. “What do they have to lose? They do very little critical thinking, and they get their information about the war from TV,” he said.

But despite the fact that pensioners are thought to be the segment of Russia's population that's most susceptible to propaganda, at least 46 Russian citizens over 60 have been charged in criminal cases linked to anti-war statements, while at least 165 people aged 60–84 have been detained at anti-war rallies, according to OVD-Info. Pensioners and people approaching the pension age have been prosecuted all over the country, from Kaliningrad to Nakhodka.

The law used most frequently to prosecute elderly people is Article 207.3 of Russia’s Criminal Code, which outlaws “disinformation” about the Russian Armed Forces. At least 19 people over 60 have been convicted of violating the ban, including 65-year-old Marina Novikova from the Tomsk region and 64-year-old Igor Baryshnikov from Russia's Kaliningrad exclave.

In April 2023, Novikova, a human rights activist, was found guilty of spreading “disinformation” about the military. The court sentenced her to a fine of 1 million rubles (about $10,500). Novikova requested a prison sentence instead of the fine, which she couldn’t afford on her pension.

Baryshnikov, who suffers from serious health problems, was sentenced in June 2023 to 7.5 years in prison for making online posts about Russia's invasion of Ukraine. He's currently in the medical unit of a pre-trial detention center. His sentence forced him to miss the funeral of his mother, who died after he was taken into custody. Baryshnikov himself has been diagnosed with a potentially cancerous prostate tumor, meaning he has to live with a suprapubic catheter (through his abdomen) and will require surgery. During Barishnikov’s trial, his doctor said he may die in prison.

At least 15 criminal cases have been brought against elderly Russians under Article 280 of Russia’s Criminal Code. 13 of those cases concern “public actions aimed at discrediting the Armed Forces of the Russian Federation” (Part 1 of Article 280.3 of the Criminal Code) and two, according to OVD-Info, concern incitements to extremist activity (Part 2 of Article 280).

Another four elderly people are being prosecuted under Part 2 of Article 205 of the Criminal Code for “public appeals to carry out terrorist activities, or public justification of terrorism or promotion of terrorism." Four people have been charged for the “desecration of corpses and burial places” and vandalism (Articles 214 and 244 of the Criminal Code).

At least 15 elderly people are in pre-trial detention facilities, receiving coercive medical treatment, or already serving a prison sentence.

‘The most painful part is leaving her grandson’

On September 5, 2022, the home of Dolite Sinitsina, a 65-year-old former history teacher from the city of Nakhodka, was searched by the Russian authorities. She was charged under the Criminal Code’s article against online incitement to extremism (Part 2 of Article 280) because of two posts and comments she’d made online: “Death to fascist occupiers!!!” and “Russia is a fascist state.” An analysis requested by investigators concluded that her statements “encouraged violence” against the Russian military.

Members of the FSB confiscated Sinitsina's computer, her WiFi router, and her phone. She was later interrogated by intelligence officers and taken to Vladivostok.

Dolite told Verstka that she was shocked and horrified by the outbreak of war in Ukraine, and that she was simply expressing her feelings when she wrote the offending posts. Although she feels the accusations against her are absurd, she agreed to plead guilty at the request of an investigator and her lawyer.

“We were counting on getting a suspended sentence; I guess that was naive of me. But that’s what I was told: plead guilty, and you’ll be given a suspended sentence and told to report to a parole officer,” Sipnitsa recounted. “So that’s what I resolved to do, and when the judge ruled otherwise, I broke down.”

The judge, Maksim Kiselev, sentenced her to one and a half years in prison. An appeals court upheld the verdict.

Although the court proceedings concerned only the aforementioned statements, it's clear from Sinitsa’s social media profile that she has been vocally opposing the Russian state for years. For instance, Dolite expressed sympathy for supporters of Navalny.

In 2017, while Nakhodka’s inhabitants were choking on the dust from its open coal mines, Sinitsya stood as a candidate for the Nakhodka City Duma and promised voters she would “always vote in accordance with their wishes.” She didn’t manage to get elected, but in the comments under one of her posts, she wrote: “Our state is represented by a colonial administration of timeservers, who sponge off the brutal exploitation of natural and human resources.”

I’ve always been an active citizen; I was secretary of the Komsomol teachers’ organization and party secretary. And when the city’s ecological problems began, it was suggested that I stand as an independent candidate in the delegate, so I agreed. But it quickly became clear that the whole system is just a rat race, the decay has already taken root, and I’m too old to be trying to rebuild and reorganize it.

Any day now, Sinitsa expects to be taken to prison, where a place awaits her. According to her, she'll most likely be sent to a colony near either Ussuriysk or Vladivostok, which are 160–200 kilometers (99–124 miles) from her home. For her, the most painful part is leaving her little grandson.

My eldest grandkids are 20 and 21 years old, and I didn’t get a chance to play with them. The youngest is two. I’m very attached to him; I thought that I’d at least be able to help raise him, if not the others. I’m really suffering over him. When they told me at the appeal that I’d go to prison for a year and six months, my first thought was that I’d never go, that I’d kill myself. But then a kind of malice rose up in me, and gave me strength to bear it. It will be hard, but I have to get through it.

Sinitsa admitted that if she had known what her online protests would lead to, she probably wouldn’t have written the posts that got her convicted. But she feels the war in Ukraine is a tragedy of global scale: “All those homes destroyed, people killed, and the way that the rest of the world is reacting to it — it’s all so wrong, I can’t bear to watch it unfold.”

‘I couldn’t just stay silent’

On March 6, 2022, while protests against the war in Ukraine were happening all over Russia, 65-year-old Nikolai Gutsenovich staged a solitary picket protest in Penza. One side of his poster showed a rocket being snapped in half by a pair of hands with the words “No to war,” while the other had a quote from a song by Aleksander Galich: “The Fatherland is in danger, our tanks are on foreign land.”

I was motivated by the injustices happening in Ukraine. I have relatives there. A civilized, 21st-century nation does not resolve issues by declaring war. And to wage war in a land that has three nuclear stations is madness — it could lead to a second Chernobyl.

Gutsenovich is originally from Belarus. In his youth, he served in the military in East Germany. Later, he traveled a lot, working as a photographer. He was interested in electronics, and began building tape recorders and electric guitars by himself. When he retired, he began working on his house, like many people his age. But he also has a major bone to pick with most of his peers: he's furious that there are so few pensioners actively opposing the war.

During the 10 minutes Gutsenovich stood protesting, five or six passersby thanked him for taking a stand, while one called him a traitor to the motherland. Then some policemen approached, arrested him, and brought him to the police station.

According to Gutsenovich himself, he knew the risks of protesting, but he “had no choice”: “I’m in my twilight years — I couldn’t just stay silent and spoil my obituary.” The judge fined him 30,000 rubles (around $300) on misdemeanor charges of “discrediting” the Russian army (Article 20.3.3 of the Criminal Code). But his case didn’t end there.

Gutsenovich expressed his sympathy for Ukraine on social media, “liking” posts containing information that contradicted reports made by the Russian Defense Ministry. These “likes” led to felony charges.

Stanislav Fomenko, Gutsenovich’s lawyer from OVD-Info, told Verstka that his client’s lone protest likely led law enforcement to begin surveilling him. When they saw his online “defamations” of the Russian Armed Forces on his social media page, Fomenko speculated, they decided to “knock him down a peg.”

The criminal case against Gutsenovich was opened on February 15, 2023. He was indicted on April 14, and in early May, his documents were submitted to court.

Gutsenovich was charged with “discrediting” of the Russian army (Article 280.3 Part 1 of the Criminal Code) by “liking” 18 anti-war posts in Odnoklassniki. According to investigators, the defendant "clicked reactions on posts on the aforementioned social network, after which the posts were displaced on his page and became viewable by an indefinite number of people."

At the trial, Gutsenovich did not deny that he had responded to the Odnoklassniki posts, but noted that he “had no intention of defaming the Russian army and was simply expressing his opinion in accordance with Article 29 of the Russian Constitution.” His lawyer, Stanislav Fomenko, recalled that Gutsenovich also attempted to make an anti-war speech, but the judge cut him off.

“Sadly, it appears our Constitution is meaningless,” Gutsenovich told Verstka. Prosecutors requested that he be fined 120,000 rubles (about $1,200). Penza's Leninsky District Court ended up fining him 100,000 rubles ($1,060).

He still hasn’t paid the fine: “I need to get some more money together; I’m no millionaire,” the pensioner said, grinning. Still, he said, he doesn’t regret expressing his opposition to the war.

Gutsenovich remains optimistic. He is sure that the war will come to an end, and that Russia will become a democratic country: “But all the same, there is a tough road ahead. Firstly, the sanctions against Russia aren’t going to be lifted straight away. Secondly, Ukraine will have to be rebuilt, and reparations paid. So any way you look at it, things are going to be hard for Russia.”

‘I wasn’t a dissident, but I wasn’t poisoned by propaganda’

Elena Ivanovo (surname changed at her request) is a 69-year-old research associate from Novosibirsk. She began attending protests when Alexey Navalny was imprisoned, and when Russia invaded Ukraine on February 24, 2022, she had no intention of hiding away at home.

I’m a grandmother, and I imagined every woman my age would be out on the streets, protesting. When it became clear this wasn’t the case, I was distraught — I still haven’t gotten over it. Back then, I was in tears every day, but these days I don’t cry as much. Obviously, our tragedy, Russia’s tragedy, cannot be compared with Ukraine’s, whose fertile lands, its people, its cities, are all being destroyed. That's why I went out to protest.

On March 6, she went to Lenin Square in downtown Novosibirsk with a friend of hers who's also a pensioner. Even though the police far outnumbered the protesters, Elena said, she chose to hold up her anti-war sign.

On one side of the poster, she had drawn a picture of a crossed-out bomb, while on the other side, she’d written the words “We want peace.”

Immediately, the riot police, with their spacemen helmets, herded a group of protestors, us included, into a circle and began to close in on us. Then they were ordered to arrest me and my friend. So they arrested us and ripped up my sign. Four policemen — brawny, armed, and highly trained — were tasked with bringing us to the van. They fulfilled their orders gently, directing us with hands under our elbows.

It was the first time in their long lives that either of the two friends had been in a police van. The vehicle was full of young people, all of whom were taken to the police station. As they were getting out of the van, a policeman offered Elena his hand. “You don’t get that sort of treatment on the city bus,” she laughed. “Actually, I hadn’t realized how similar buses and police vans are.”

The “cops’ assembly hall”, as Elena calls it, was full of detainees, who she refers to as “clever-looking young people.” When Elena and her friend entered, “they all got up and started clapping.” That day, Elena was charged with a misdemeanor offense under Article 20.2 of the Russian Administrative Code.

The fine she received was only 5,000 rubles (around $50), but Elena hasn’t been to a protest since.

“It’s not about the risk; I just don’t want to subsidize the regime,” she explained. “If I’m at the protest for three minutes before I’m arrested, what effect can I have? And then I have to give my money to the regime? What's the point?”

She attributes her stance on the war to the fact that she has never owned a television. “I wasn’t a dissident by any stretch of the imagination. But I was never poisoned by propaganda.” At the same time, she said, she's always considered herself a patriot.

I worked in a different country for two years, and I couldn’t wait to return to Russia. But I’ll tell you how I formed my attitude towards the war in Ukraine. Imagine a married woman with children. She loves her husband, they have a happy home life, and suddenly she finds out that her husband has been raping their daughters. How is she supposed to react? It’s a tragedy that can’t be put right. But now I’m left without a homeland — I’m some kind of a moral freak.

Elena knows other pensioners who oppose the war, but she has severed relations with several longtime friends her age because of their support for the invasion.

“I don’t understand how they don’t grieve for the Ukrainians. How can you have no pity for the people, the cities, the woods, the animals?” Elena said mournfully. “But trying to convince them is pointless. I’ve lost friends that way. I’m ashamed of my generation. They have blood on their hands. But who cares about us — the most important thing is that the war ends. But the war isn't ending.”

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joellavine · 2 years

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List of Metabolic Liver Diseases

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A genetic class of lipid storage disorders known as Niemann-Pick disease causes organs to store dangerous levels of fatty material. It can cause severe brain damage in infants and causes them to develop jaundice and an enlarged liver. Every cell in the body contains an enzyme called sphingomyelinase, and the condition is defined by insufficient activity of this enzyme.

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moose-muffin · 2 years

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sup dude! great to see more people getting into inside job! do you have any tickle hc's for all the main gang?

HELLO LOVELY ANON, FUN FACT YOU JUST MADE MY NIGHT AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH <33

ALRIGHT LETS GET INTO THIS THING!!!!

Brett: listen we start with Brett bc I said so!! he is just the sweetest, himbo-est, golden retriever boy-est and he <333

scoring him on a lee/ler scale: 74% lee, 36% ler

(he gets the extra 1% ler bc of the episode where he goes green 👀✨)

LISTEN BC THE WAY THE HE IS DEFINITELY SO TOUCH STARVED. THE WAY HE WOULD DIE TO BE TICKLED. THE LITTLE SMILE ON HIS FACE WHEN SOMEONE IS ABOUT TO TICKLE HIM. AND THE LITTLE GIGGLES THAT COME OUT OF HIS MOUTH I- *flatlines*

and you just KNOW he would be one of us, it’s just the way it is!!! I don’t make the rules!!!

how ticklish is he though, you might ask, and to answer your question, VERY

first of all isnt it like a known fact super muscular people are more ticklish or something??? (if not pretend it is) and even if he wasn’t!!! he would still be a hyper ticklish idiot (which we love him for)

i think the first person to tickle him would probably be as an accident or something, like reagan bumping into him and he just squeaks.

WHICH LEADS ME TO MY NEXT POINT

Reagan: ugh omg, the best gosh darn girlboss there is, she’s trying her best!!! and she’s doing great, so proud of her <3

her score isss: 23% lee, 77% ler

LET ME EXPLAIN MYSELF OK. we all saw the hug episode, she touch starved too so it’ll take her some time definitely and she is so valid for that. I’d imagine the first time she gets tickled it would be a very similar reaction you know?? throw a couple punches, push people away, the usual <3 but if we’re being honest the mommy and daddy issues (yes I’m looking at all of you) just make her absolutely susceptible to being one of us, again I don’t make the rules

*a/n: I AM NOT PROJECTING ONTO THESE TWO LOVABLE CHARACTERS PSHHH WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?

anyways!!! i don’t see her as being overwhelming ticklish or anything, but she deeeeefinetely is. I’d say she’s much more a giggler than someone who belly laughs but there’s probably a spot on her somewhere that unlocks that

seeing her get tickled must feel like a little treat!!! her little melancholy vibe is CRUMBLED and she has the sweet little giggles bubbling out of her, the whole gang loves it!!

and once brett knows more about tickling, he will also LOVE IT!! not just for him, but seeing and making other people smiled!? you KNOW he’s down.

him and reagan would absolutely team up and wreck someone just for fun, they’re cool like that!!

sorry for going back to our lovely brett but I just <3

Reagan is definitely one of us and she would secretly adore every second of it, which of course, she would never admit.

Andre: AHHHH I LOVE HIM <33 little doctor man with his little pink crocs. he may be high but he’s doing great

scoring him: 88% lee 12% ler

OK HEAR ME OUT. MY GUESS IS YOUR MUCH MORE TICKLISH WHEN UR HIGH AND SINCE HES HIGH ALL THE TIME HES ALWAHS SUPER TICKLISH!!! AND HE WOULD PROBABLY LOVE THE LITTLE ADRENALINE RUSH SO I JUST KNOW HE’D LOVE IT (maybe not one of us but who knows, they definitely all have familial issues)

without drugs: my guy is probably still ticklish but just maybe not as much?? still adorable though

WHICH BRINGS ME TO MY OTHER POINT OMG HIS LITTLE GIGGLE. THE OEN HE DOES IN THE SHOW CONSTANTLY!? YEAH HE DOES THAT EVERYTIME HE GETS TICKLED WITHOUT FAIL

THE SWEETEST REACTION. BRETT ABUSES IT ALL THE TIME

Gigi: UGH a true queen, another girlboss but this one is a tad more fierce and has an insanely good fashion sense

score for the lady: 17% lee, 83% ler

Listen, this girl definitely knows everything single spot on anyone and everyone at all times. She’s like a master of tickling I stg!!!

She was probably the first to find out Brett was ticklish tbh, along with the rest of them

She herself isn’t *super ticklish* nor does anyone wanna mess with her. But if they decide to it is a lovely surprise!!

Definitely more of a laugher than a giggler though!!

Would use it as blackmail for most other people but for the gang she just does it for fun

Glenn: he’s so goofy, definitely not on the same page as him but hey! he’s nice to reagan and brett so we’ll give him the benefit of the doubt just this once.

score: tbh???? idek, nothing really comes to mind 😭 maybe I’ll go with switch?? he just kind of rarely gets involved but if he does it just depends on which side needs him

Probably a tie breaker moment if there’s an office wide tickle fight, someone gets him on their team bc usually he doesn’t get involved

Definitely ticklish but is easily able to block it out (hence why he can be so helpful)

Surprisingly sweet though, but mainly just stays out of it

Myc: BWISNWOSA MYC IS SO SILLY AND HE RLY IS JUST A WACKY LITTLE GUY BUT HES FUNNY SO SENDING HIM MY LOVE IG

score for the mushroom: Switch, but definitely Ler leaning

those tentacles man, veeery helpful, very helpful

HWISNWOS IM SORRY I HAD TO BUT I FEEL LIKE HES IN A SIMILAR BOAT AS GLENN??

He would TOTALLY get involved but more at someone else’s expense.

He doesn’t really care much and isn’t super duper ticklish, but he loves to make fun of the gang for their ticklishness <3 (so teasy of him)

OK!!!! THATS ALL I HAVE FOR RIGHT NOW AND IN THIS FORMAT I CAN DEFINITELY DEFINITELY DO MORE BC THIS SHOW IS MY EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW SO JUST HIT MY INBOX UP AGAIN AND ILL BE SO DOWN TO CONTINUE OR DO SOME FOR STUFF IDK MAN LMK!!!! ALRIGHT SENDING YOU MY LOVE ANON I HOPE YOU EMJOY AND GO WATHC INSIDE JOB!!!

#inside job tickle #Brett hand tickle #reagan Ridley tickle #dr andre tickle #inside job is so freaking good go watch Rn #ticklish!brett #ler!brett #ler!reagan #lee!reagan #lee!brett #ticklish!reagan

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