Hearing about Rooser Teeth's demise... admittedly I havent kept up with a lot of their content ever since they fired Matt Bragg. But the fact remains that I was a part of that community for several long years.
I made fanart. I made friends. My god, I made friends! Some of the closest friends I have we bonded through the AH/RT community or some branch of it. My current DnD group that streams on twitch, we were all connected to the community at one point, one way or another.
I attended RTX several times, which I maintain was a wholly unique experience unlike any anime convention I've also attended. I had so much fun in that community. I know RT has and had some problematic elements but it was also such a... force. I dont regret joining it. It got me into let's plays and streaming, it brought us RWBY which I still love despite everything and numerous other entertaining shows, and more importantly it made me laugh and connected me with friends.
To see it all dissolve so suddenly is... grief inducing. My heart definitely mourns. I've never been in another fandom community like it, and I dont know if I will again.
And of course, I hope the employees and contract workers affected can get back on their feet quickly. I cant imagine their position. Like the rug has been pulled from under their feet, I'm sure.
Just... yeah. Cowabummer, dude.
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Martha didn't get a Tennant Doctor because she didn't want a Tennant Doctor. Martha was the only one of RTD's companions who left the Doctor of her own volition, and only ever called him back on her own terms, when she had need of him.
Rose didn't leave the Doctor willingly. Rose was trapped in an alternate universe because it was either that or be stuck in a void with Daleks and Cybermen for the rest of time. And when she returned (primarily to warn the Doctor about the oncoming darkness caused by Davros but also because she wanted to be with him), she left with the Metacrisis Tenth Doctor and their own TARDIS because that was the only way to give her a satisfying ending from the viewpoint of the audience. (And even then, there are some fans who will tell you that nothing short of her being with the Time Lord Doctor in the prime reality is satisfying, but that just couldn't happen for reasons outside the narrative story.)
Donna didn't leave the Doctor willingly. Donna absorbed all of the intelligence of a Time Lord into her human brain, and this was going to kill her. She had to have her memory erased and be kept away from anything alien for presumably forever or else the knowledge would return and literally kill her. Donna begged the Doctor not to wipe her memory anyway, because she would rather have died than give up that life. Just like Rose, Donna had planned on staying with the Doctor for the rest of her life.
This was not the case for Martha. Setting aside the fact that Martha was treated like garbage for the duration of her season from a writing standpoint, by the end of season three Martha has realized two things: 1.) that she is goddamn brilliant and never deserved to feel like she was second best, and 2.) that she doesn't want the Doctor anymore. Unlike Rose, Donna, and Captain Jack, Martha leaves the TARDIS of her own free will, to pursue her own life and career outside the Doctor. Even Sarah-Jane says in "School Reunion" that she waited for the Doctor to come back for her; she didn't want to leave, not permanently! But Martha did. She chose to step away. The only other companion to have done this during RTD's run is Mickey, so I guess Martha wasn't the only one; still, she's the only one of the primary companions, the three women, to want to leave. She made that choice herself.
Now, does that mean everything about Martha's ending was perfect? No. As much as the "Smith and Jones" wordplay of her ending with Mickey is amusing (get it, like her first episode), it makes no sense when you consider that she was engaged when she returned in season four, and yet we never hear of that fiance again. I mean, I guess it's fine since it's not like we ever saw him? But what happened there? Why was no thought given to Martha's story there? What was she doing with Mickey in an active war zone? Why no mention of her in these three specials even though, last we heard of her, she was working with UNIT in a really important position? I like Mel well enough, but why couldn't Martha have been there instead? Especially since Martha and Donna had a preexisting friendship, and would have been delighted to see each other again?
With that said though, she doesn't need a Tennant Doctor. She didn't want a Tennant Doctor. Frankly, Tennant's Doctor doesn't deserve her with the way he acted ("Rose would know" right to her face, like -- dude, I get it, you're grieving, but that's fucking rude and Rose would NOT approve you using her memory to make another woman feel bad about herself). Martha's character arc was about recognizing her own brilliance and her own worth; standing on her own two feet as a PROPER doctor, Doctor Martha Jones, walking the earth and saving the world without a TARDIS or Torchwood or a Time Lord brain. Just her own fucking determination and brilliance.
Rose and Donna got Tennant Doctors because that was the way to make their final send-offs satisfying. Rose and a Tennant Doctor got to be in love and happy together in a parallel world, which is fitting considering that they were in love and never wanted to leave each other. Donna and a Tennant Doctor get to be besties and happy together in this reality, so that RTD has a convenient excuse to pull Tennant back into a story if he ever wants to again (since it'd be hard to explain why Tentoo came over, versus having Fourteen right there) . . . but also because, like Rose, Donna never wanted to leave the Doctor, she wanted to be with him forever.
But Martha didn't want that. Martha left on her own accord. She left with a smile on her face and her cell phone on the TARDIS console, so that when she said "here boy!" the Doctor would listen. She left on her terms, with him at her call, only there when she has use for him.
And honestly? Good for her.
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And if you find it interesting: 9, afo. Thank you!
Prompt 9: Say you love me
"Say you love me."
Not a question, but a command. Comfortingly familiar and gratingly predictable all at once. Pathetic, too, Sorahiko has come to realize. For all his bluster and projected confidence, Hisashi is damningly insecure.
Not that he knows it, of course. He could never be so self-aware. Sorahiko isn't exactly certain he wants him to be, though.
"Give me a reason to and maybe I will," he replies with begrudging interest, because it's ten in the morning, and the shirt he's wearing isn't his, and maybe, just maybe, he's a little bit pathetic too.
"So demanding." There's a touch of mockery in that. Sorahiko feels an arm close around his waist, pulling him ever so slightly into Hisashi's orbit, before a quick peck dusts his cheek. "There, is that enough for you? I'm not especially inclined to take you back to bed now, so it'll have to do regardless."
Inadvertently, the bridge of Sorahiko's nose wrinkles. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"That you smell like eggs." Sorahiko feels the head on his shoulder incline, pointedly towards the stove at his waist. "That's the worst omelet I've ever seen, by the way. You know you're supposed to remove the shells, don't you?"
A growl. "I did."
"Then what's that lumpy bit there?"
Sorahiko's eyes follow the path of Hisashi's finger. He honestly can't parse where its target lies. As loathe as he is to admit it, the entire omelet is a mess.
"Just be grateful I'm cooking you anything, you–"
"Let's not get heated Sorahiko, you know I'm only teasing." That elicits an eye roll. Sorahiko knows quite the opposite. He isn't. Not entirely, anyways. "In truth, I find this domestic side of yours rather endearing. To force yourself through something you're so humiliatingly inept at, and all for my sake… I had no idea I held such an impressive sway over you."
"Fuck off."
"Ah, but not so impressive, it seems. I supplied the reason, did I not? A kiss and a compliment in one, I'm certain that's enough to fulfill my end of the bargain. So now you say…?" he trails off, pointedly pulling away from the two's considerably prolonged embrace.
Sorahiko hates that he misses the warmth. He hates it even more once he catches on to the familiar note in Hisashi's phrasing. Bargain.
Over the course of their intermittent and considerably rocky relationship, Sorahiko has come to learn, with increasing intensity and emphasis, that Hisashi sees the world entirely and exclusively in terms of transaction.
An expensive, candlelit dinner in exchange for sex. An apartment key for one-sided, yet ineffably binding romantic exclusivity. A name for a name. Breakfast for a button down. Physical affection for verbal affirmation.
Sorahiko doesn't mind it, per se. He likes knowing the terms of his relationship. The boundaries, the expectations, the do's and don'ts. It's no secret that he struggles with displays of affection, and Hisashi evokes them in ways that are obviously permissible, if not entirely free.
But it does feel… obsessive, on occasion. Demanding. Almost religious in its ritualism.
And even so, he's powerless in the face of it.
"I love you."
Why does he mean it, when he says it?
Sorahiko would like to think it's because he pities him. The two have never exchanged personal information with each other beyond that of addresses, ages, and names, but what he's gleaned of Hisashi's life from shrewd bits of insight he's been allowed hasn't painted a pretty picture.
Hisashi is wealthy, certainly. Excessively so. Doubtlessly successful from the perspective of the average salaryman, and more still.
But there's a desperation to it, Sorahiko has often noted, a compulsion to throw himself into to his work, whatever it may be, to parade his wealth around in the form of designer suits, and limousines, and French Champagnes, and penthouse suites, that suggests less of a desire to pursue a life worth living and more of a ravenous, clawing need to escape the reality of one that isn't.
The only pictures in his apartment are stock photos, he never speaks of his family, and the way he manipulates tenderness out of Sorahiko – hungrily, always hungrily, but with such a marked desire for distance – implies an upbringing completely devoid of genuine emotional connection.
Every tender word is postured with Hisashi, practiced, and calculated, and rehearsed. Out of a compulsive desire for perfection, certainly, for power over one's partner, but there's also a very real sense of fear to the practice. Vulnerability is not a word in Hisashi's vocabulary.
It isn't found in Sorahiko's either. Maybe that's why the pity comes so easily.
But no, that isn't his desire's origin, as much as he may wish it were.
There's a magnetism to Hisashi completely independent of his more vulnerable aspects, a surety and gravity as powerful as it is prevalent. Sorahiko loves to butt heads, the thrill of a chase, the stubborn push and pull of a yearning to which neither party will vocally lay claim.
Belonging to someone else, someone just as jaded, and worn, and pessimistic as him. Someone who comprehends the importance of detachment in the face of intimacy.
That was why he'd broken things off with Nana Shimura, though he'd never say it aloud. He'd known her too well, and she'd cared too much. Not enough distance.
"And I love hearing you say it." Apparently, Hisashi is feeling generous this morning. The second peck is placed on his lips. "I'm leaving the country tomorrow for work. I don't know when I'll be back."
Not generous then, placating. A salve in anticipation of a burn. Oh well. Last night had been too passionate anyways. Really, it's a blessing. Thank God for distance.
Breakfast is eaten in cold, impassive silence. Hisashi doesn't even comment on the obvious bits of eggshell that crack between his molars. Doesn't even lament the burnt crust that coats the dishes underside. A rare occurrence by all accounts. He lives for drama.
Sorahiko should be grateful. And he is.
Thank God for distance.
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As promised. Memes:
And as promised, ranting:
Okay, so, real talk, I did not actually like everything in this book, but I still fucked with it SO HARD. Like, honestly, I picked up what this was putting down (a little heavy-handedly, but done so well imho???) and the WAY IT WAS WRITTEN????
Like, I did a course on the Aeneid. And obviously it was a Roman mythos, not Greek, but DAMN, CLAIRE NORTH. I could see my translations!!! Written in the vernacular of english!!! RiGHT THERE IN THE TEXXT!!!! I GOT SO FREAKING EXCITED!!! It's just, such little things. The phrasing of a certain line. The odd usage of certain similes or metaphors that go off about people or places. The strange diversions to explain events or people right in the middle of the text before jumping straight back into the story. IT WAS SO VERGIL GUYS I SWEAR.
(i haven't had to translate the greek myths sorry guys and I read the odyssey so many years ago in english many apologies am working off what I got)
And, like, as I said, it was very heavy-handed as it backhanded the greek poets for ignoring the women but, like, she was right??? It was insane guys. It was absolutely insane. And everyone was so nuanced and had personalities and hopes and dreams and backstories and at points I was worried she was going to sacrifice the guys to further the women??? Which, like, I understand the irony, and obv couldn't super fault her for it, but she ended up balancing everyone out so well??? Like the guys were in the background instead but they were still all unique and had different priorities and shit.
Just, this whole book was such a breath of fresh air. Damn.
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