Battling Our Demons: Fighting the Influence of Evil

The other day, while looking through some of my folders of old writing and abandoned projects, I stumbled across an essay I wrote back in May 2015 for my Readings in the Genre: Contemporary Mysteries course at Seton Hill University as part of my MFA in Writing Popular Fiction program. Of late, I’ve used this blog as a way of kick starting myself into writing on a more regular basis; something I struggle with on an almost pathological level. My friends will tell you that I’m writing all the time. This year, since February I have written a total of 27 blog posts about fictional characters I find sexually appealing, and since around May, I’ve written over 120 haiku poems. I’ve drafted chapters in a novel I’m writing, and I’ve written a few short pieces of fiction here and there. So yeah, I guess I have been writing. But, I don’t feel like I’m writing enough.

And, although I had a short story published in an anthology back in November 2014, I haven’t been able to sell my first novel, Invisible Chains, acquire an agent, or get any other bites on the poetry I’ve been submitting. I currently have poetry out to three publishers and I’ll be submitting three short stories within the next month to different publishers. I’m going to participate in NaNoWriMo 2016 in the hopes of completing that second novel I mentioned, A Marriage Made in Hell. I WILL finish the first draft of Marriage by November 30, come Hell of high water.

Anyway, if you’re interested in reading some of my writing that doesn’t involve lewd comments about my favorite fictions characters, read on…


Battling Our Demons: Fighting the Influence of Evil in Charlaine Harris’s Dead Until Dark and Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

In his famous study on human behavior, Beyond Good and Evil, German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche warns us to take care to not be influenced by the intrinsic and often seductive nature of darkness when confronting our demons. He proposes, “Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you” (Section 146). Sage advice, but is it possible to confront Evil and not be somehow changed by it? Can you keep company with monsters without becoming like them? This is the dilemma faced by both Sookie Stackhouse in Charlaine Harris’s Dead Until Dark and Lisbeth Salander in Stieg Larsson’s The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Each character must face her demons. Tempted as they may be, each character still manages to avoid becoming Evil.

Evil can be a very subjective concept. Each of us defines it a little differently based on our own personal experiences, but we can usually agree on the difference between “right” and “wrong.” The mystery genre uses this dichotomy as one of its central themes or plot points, and while an amateur sleuth or police inspector may be driven to solve a crime in order to uphold the law, at the heart of most mysteries is the desire for Good to win out over Evil. “Crime fiction in general, and detective fiction in particular, is about confronting and taming the monstrous. It is a literature of containment, a narrative that ‘makes safe’” (Plain 3). The battle between Good and Evil has been fought in fiction since before written communication. In the oral tradition, people told tales of epic battles between men and monsters – Beowulf, The Epic of Gilgamesh. With the advent of writing, the popularity of monster tales never waned – The Odyssey, The Iliad, and The Inferno. Monsters have always been with us. They are creatures of myth and legend, and they often stand in as metaphors for the less palatable human behaviors and emotions. Judith Halberstam suggests in her book, Skin Shows: Gothic Horror and the Technology of Monsters that even though our desire for stories about monsters and villains never seems to fade, the appearance of those monsters evolves to meet cultural needs. She says, “The body that scares and appalls changes over time, as do the individual characteristics that add up to monstrosity, as do the preferred interpretations of monstrosity” (8). Monsters change as our society changes, and the monsters of our current fiction, which is especially true in the mystery genre, tend to be humans more so than the beasts of Homer and Dante’s creations.

Like Sookie and Lisbeth, we sometimes find ourselves in less than ideal situations and come face to face with monsters. For some of us, the monsters we must face are people we thought we could trust who later betray us, or worse, cause physical as well as psychological damage in the form of abuse, rape, and ultimately murder. In her essay, “Vivid Villains,” Sandra Scoppettone tells us that “the nature of the villain, and how absorbing a character he or she is, will affect the flavor of the whole rest of the story” (86). The nature of the villain should definitely determine the nature of the protagonist. Whether we’re talking about a serial killer, someone seeking revenge, or jilted lover who commits a crime of passion, as we gain a better understanding of human psychology, we also understand that we are the monsters represented in the fiction we read. Darkness lurks within all of us, but for most people, it will continue to lie dormant until some violent act or traumatic experience awakens the beast within. The real challenge then for any protagonist facing such a worthy opponent, as Nietzsche warns, is to avoid becoming a monster. Sookie and Lisbeth are sexualized others who both fall victim to violence at the hands of human monsters.


“Forty-six percent of women in Sweden have been subjected to violence by a man” (Larsson 139). In his novel The Girl with Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larsson wishes to make it very clear to his reader that violence against women is a cultural reality in Sweden, and to most Swedish women, much like his protagonist, Lisbeth Salander, the threat of violence, sexual or otherwise, is an expectation if not an inevitability. Lisbeth is a ward of the state and becomes the victim of rape at the hands of a man assigned to her case. She is an adult, but due to her designation based on a history of aberrant behavior as a youth, she is treated like a child, mentally deficient, and then taken advantage of due to her abuser’s belief that she is somehow stupid. While Lisbeth has experienced quite a bit of emotional and psychological trauma, some of which is not revealed to us, she is far from stupid, and definitely not mentally ill. In fact, she is uncannily smart and more than capable of looking out for herself, except at the hands of the sadistic monster Advokat Nils Bjurman. Over the course of several meetings, Bjurman makes it very clear to Salander that she is at his mercy if she would like access to her bank accounts. Each encounter with Bjurman becomes more and more inappropriate until he forces Salander to perform oral sex on him in his office. Larsson reinforces his point about the violent nature of Swedish society by making Salander another statistic. “In her world, this was the natural order of things. As a girl she was legal prey, especially if she was dressed in a worn black leather jacket and had pierced eyebrows, tattoos, and zero social status” (249). Later, when Salander seeks revenge for this assault, Bjurman restrains and rapes her at his apartment. It is this second act of violence that pushes her to her limits and flips a switch that begins her own transformation. She falls prey to the desire to do monstrous things herself. “Bjurman felt cold terror piercing his chest and lost his composure. He tugged at his handcuffs…He could do nothing to resist when Salander bent over and placed the anal plug between his buttocks” (282). Salander reverses the tables on Bjurman. She assaults and humiliates him much like he did to her. She attempts to restore balance through an act of revenge, pushing her closer to the edge of the abyss. Lisbeth unleashes her darkness to reclaim her power and walks a fine line that could easily transform her into a monster worse than Bjurman. She threatens Bjurman with blackmail and bodily harm to prevent him from hurting her again—an act of self-preservation. By marking him, she hopes to save other women from becoming his victims. Justice is served.

On the surface, Sookie Stackhouse and Lisbeth Salander couldn’t be more different as protagonists go, but when you take a closer look at these two strong female characters, you’ll begin to notice some commonalities. First, they are both amateur sleuths with unique abilities that allow them to have access to information others aren’t privy to in the narrative. Salander’s abilities are half-heartedly explained through the eyes of Salander’s lover, Mikael Blomkvist, who assumes that the young hacker has a form of Asperger’s. Since Sookie’s world has paranormal elements, she has the benefit of being able to hear other people’s thoughts. Calling this ability a benefit is debatable, as Sookie herself sees it as a handicap.

Second, both women often find themselves at the mercy of men who threaten them with violence. Or, at the very least, objectify them sexually. Although they come from very different cultural backgrounds, they both have “zero social status” (249) in the economy of sexuality and gender equality. In Dead Until Dark, a serial killer targets young women who seek out vampires as sexual partners. Sookie not only shares this in common with the victims, but she also fits the profile with her high school education and minimum wage job.


Monsters exist in Sookie’s world – vampires, weres, and shifters – all of which can be quite dangerous. In fact, her boyfriend is a vampire. Despite the fact that there is trend in fiction romanticizing relationships between vampires and humans, vampires are still monsters. Even if they don’t kill you outright, there is always the chance that things might get out of hand, and a moment of passion may end with the human’s funeral. Even if the vampire poses no direct threat to his partner, the secret lives of vampires seem to be violent by nature – ancient enemies, unresolved love affairs, power struggles with other supernatural beings. All of this adds up to danger for any human who meddles in the affairs of monsters, much less falls in love with them.

Sookie could literally become a monster if she continues to drink vampire blood. Bill Compton gives Sookie his blood several times to speed up the healing process. But when Sookie is recovering in the hospital after her encounter with the serial killer, she refuses to accept Bill’s blood for fear of losing her human qualities. “‘I’ll heal you,’ he offered. ‘Let me give you some blood.’ I remembered the way my hair had lightened, remembered that I was almost twice as strong as I’d ever been. I shook my head” (Harris 310). Sookie resists the urge to become monstrous by refusing to act like one. Sookie reclaims her power by maintaining her humanness.

Sookie and Lisbeth are victims of violent crimes. Both women fight back to protect themselves. They are survivors and each play an important role in vanquishing the monster, or at the very least, identifying the villain. They both realize there are too many villains in the world to fight. Even though they have temporarily restored the balance in their worlds, they know the fight between Good and Evil will continue. Not only externally, but internally as well. Each time you gaze into the abyss, the abyss changes you. So, to answer my earlier question, is it possible to associate with monsters and not become Evil? Yes, but only if you remain vigilant to protect your humanity, and in Salander’s case, the humanity of others.

Works Cited

Halberstam, Judith. Skin Shows: Gothic Horror and the Technology of Monsters. Durham: Duke University Press, 1995. Print.

Harris, Charlaine. Dead Until Dark. New York: Ace Books, 2009. Print

Larsson, Stieg. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. New York: Vintage Crime/Black Lizard, 2009. Print.

Nietzsche, Friedrich. Beyond Good & Evil: Prelude to a Philosophy of the Future. New York: Vintage Books Edition, 1989. Print.

Plain, Gill. Twentieth Century Crime Fiction: Gender, Sexuality and the Body. New York: Routledge, 2014. Kindle.

Scoppetone, Sandra. “Vivid Villains.” Writing Mysteries: A Handbook by the Mystery Writers of America. Ed. Sue Grafton. Cincinnati: Writer’s Digest Books, 2002. 86-90. Print.


Fictional Characters I Would Totally Fuck: Will Graham

I’ve mentioned several times before in this series that I have a special place in my heart for the insane – or, at least, the people society deems insane. Some people I have cared deeply about throughout my life suffered or continue to suffer with mental illness and the stigma that comes along with these often-misunderstood medical conditions.

My father made a living as a mental health professional. He cared a lot about his clients, and sometimes developed strong attachments to them. I’m aware that there are ethical issues associated with client/therapist relationships that cross the boundaries established by the profession. Despite his role as therapist and healer, he was only human and felt deep sorrow when one of his clients relapsed and hurt themselves or someone else. More than once, my dad received phone calls about the death of a client at his/her own hands. I remember one client’s suicide very well, because my dad cried when he hung up the phone and slipped into a deep depression that lasted months. He felt responsible for that man’s death. He believed that he had somehow failed. My dad was really good at what he did, but he felt too much to be able to distance himself from the very real struggles his clients faced. He cared too much.

Caring too much sounds absurd to people who don’t understand what that can be like. When you feel things so strongly that you can’t seem to separate yourself from the grief experienced by others around you, people you’ve never met, people who died long before you were born, any form of suffering that you can empathize with creates a sense of the suffering inside you. When therapists who have a strong sense of empathy cross boundaries with their clients, sometimes inappropriate or even dangerous things happen, placing both client and therapist in jeopardy.

An excellent fictional example of this kind of situation is the relationship between Will Graham and Dr. Hannibal Lecter in Bryan Fuller’s television adaptation of Thomas Harris’ novel, Red Dragon, “Hannibal”. Dr. Lecter is a psychiatrist and Will is a profiler for the FBI. Both work under Jack Crawford, the director of the BAU, who investigates serial murders. Will has a unique set of mental quirks (illness) that gives him a nearly supernatural level of empathy, which enables him to place himself in the minds of serial killers and recreate their actions and thoughts while examining grisly crime scenes. Will solves serial murders and puts serial killers behind bars…unless they end up dead. Which happens quite a bit on “Hannibal”. If Will doesn’t kill them, Dr. Lecter will, or they end up killing themselves. Although Jack has asked Dr. Lecter to observe Will to keep track of his fragile mental state as he investigates one horrific murder after another, he never officially becomes Will’s psychiatrist. In fact, they become friends. Well, they become connected by a series of unfortunate events that blur the boundaries and behaviors between them, and a bond of sorts is formed. Friends? Colleagues? Murder husbands? You decide.

Crazy Is As Crazy Does: Will Graham


However you choose to define the relationship between Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter, it is a cluster fuck of lies, deceit, manipulation, murder-spree fantasies, and some occasional inappropriate touching. From where I’m sitting, I see a lot of sexual tension between two men who are intellectually turned on by each other in a submissive/dominant dance of morally questionable professional encounters that ultimately lead to serious injury – mentally and physically.


I think I made it abundantly clear how I feel about Dr. Lecter in an earlier post, but now it’s Will’s turn. Thomas Harris wrote him as an exceptionally strong character that rivals the serial-killing monsters in Red Dragon, and Hugh Dancy has taken this character to whole new level of psychosis.


There is beauty and pain in his gift of empathy, he is gloriously crazy, and his insight and intellect, as well as his extreme awkwardness make him very appealing to this long-time nerd fetishist.


I often make passes at men who wear glasses.

I don’t know about you, but the smarter a man is, the hotter he becomes in my opinion. Will is a successful criminal profiler, but due to his delicate psychological make-up, it is safer for him to share his wisdom and experience in a classroom rather than in the field.


Intellectual hotness.

But, Jack Crawford convinces him (against Will’s better judgement and Alana Bloom’s recommendations) to leave the safety of the classroom and return to the field where his expertise can have a positive outcome in solving crimes and catching serial murderers.


I have a collection of bloody antlers just like this at home.

Will Graham is an incredibly fuckable fictional character, despite the fact that his friend and colleague, Alana Bloom, thinks a relationship with him is too risky. Initially, when Will shows an interest in becoming more than friends with Alana and she turns him down, I was angry. I mean, if I worked with someone as intellectually creepy and hot as Will Graham, I’d probably be making not-so-subtle hints about my interest in him.


Seriously. What the hell is she waiting for?

But, in retrospect, I realize that I have more in common with Alana than I’d readily like to admit. Alana spends a lot of time inside her own head. I do too. She tends to overthink things. Ditto. In fact, she thinks herself right out of potentially pleasurable and possibly ideal situations, like entering a romantic relationship with Will Graham. Sure, he’s cute and sweet, but he’s also kind of unstable and may require a lot of care giving in the long run. So, she rejects him. He doesn’t take it well, but respects her decision and doesn’t continue to push the issue. He occasionally makes snide comments, but then acts like an adult and treats their relationship as strictly professional.


We’ve all made the mistake of choosing the wrong guy before.

Seeking refuge from the pain of unrequited love, Will dives back into his work. Because Will enters the minds of the killers he profiles, the field work begins to take its toll. With each episode, Will gets a little stranger, his bond with Dr. Lecter grows tighter, and heads in a weird direction.


In Thomas Harris’ novel, Red Dragon, Lecter is behind bars and the relationship between him and Will is mostly speculative. We know that Will worked with Lecter to solve a crime, and later discovered that Lecter himself was a serial killer. Will nearly loses his life at the hands of Lecter, but ultimately is the one who puts him behind bars. In “Hannibal,” we see Bryan Fuller’s vision of their relationship prior to Lecter getting caught. Fuller’s artistic vision creates not only some of the most beautiful murder tableau, food porn, and uncomfortable interpersonal interactions, but also adds a level of competition between Will and Hannibal that slowly becomes a homoerotic murder fantasy man crush. (It’s totally a thing.)





And don’t get me started about the visual references to David Lynch’s body of work (that’s a different conversation for another day).


Yep. That’s a human ear alright.

While watching the first season, I questioned not only my theories about Fuller’s references to David Lynch’s work, but also the homoerotic nature of Will and Hannibal’s relationship.


Yeah, I’m just imaging…wait.


I soon discovered I wasn’t the only one in the Hannibal fandom (Fannibals) who saw what I was seeing. The sexual nature of their relationship became clearer with each episode. Social media (Tumblr, Deviant Art, Pinterest, Twitter and Facebook) provided an outlet for fans who wanted to explore the possibilities of that relationship even further, and coined the term Hannigram. “Hannibal” has some of the most creative, twisted and hilarious fans. If you ever find yourself bored and want to entertain yourself, just Google Hannigram and let the good times roll.


I know, right?


Disturbing, yet somehow hilarious.


This is the humorous side, but there is a darker and more sexually-charged side of the fandom as well.


As far as fan art goes, the Hannigram inspired work found on social media may cause you to blush or shift in your seat a bit. Given the nature of the fiction it is drawing its inspiration from, this shouldn’t come as a surprise. Neither should it surprise you just how closely violence, eating, and sex are related. But, what might disturb you about that connection is how titillating it can be when presented to us in a gloriously perverse artistic expression through such mediums as film or literature.


But it is. And so is this.


And, especially this.


I mean, that’s like a total effing Romeo & Juliet ending! I know I’m not imaging that. But ironically, it takes Will the longest to catch on to that aspect of his relationship with Hannibal.


I mean, even the tabloids alluded to the weird and kinky nature of their relationship.


Any way you look at it, Will Graham is clearly Hannibal’s object of desire. The lines between his murder fantasies and his contracted work with the FBI to observe Will’s behavior blur while the empathetic profiler spirals deeper into mental illness. And while we feel sympathy for Will, the bizarre elements of the fiction lend themselves to even more disturbing humor. Let’s face it, Fannibals are sick, twisted, clever perverts. And I love them dearly.


Fictional Characters I Would Totally Fuck: Dimitri Belikov

Last night I finished reading the first book in the Vampire Academy series. Truth be told, I had been meaning to read this YA Paranormal Romance series for quite some time but completely forgot about it until I watched the film adaptation on Netflix a few months ago. The movie was silly and entertaining, but there were also some really good romantic elements that caught me by surprise. And, hey, more importantly? VAMPIRES!


I loved the protagonist, Rose Hathaway, a seventeen-year-old dhampir who is training to become a guardian to protect her best friend Lissa, a member of the Moroi royalty. She’s funny, street smart, a wise ass, rebellious, constantly questions authority, sex positive, and knows how to look after herself and the people she cares about. If Rose had been one of my classmates in high school, I think we would have been friends. At least until we got into an argument over a guy, because she and I have similar taste in men.

Heroes Can Be Hotter Than Villains: Dimitri Belikov


If you’ve read my blog series before, you know that I have a thing for monsters. I mean, duh! My blog is called Girl Meets Monster. I like monsters. No. REALLY like monsters. But sometimes, the people who hunt them can be just as hot and heartbreaking.

For some reason that I’m not entirely in touch with (I’m working through this with my therapist) I am psychologically predisposed to lust after villains and other fictional characters with questionable motives for the things they do. But, every once in a while I fall madly in love with a fictional character with a strong moral compass. It helps if that character is a badass-fighting machine, stunningly gorgeous with an accent, and played by sexy as Hell actors. Dimitri Belikov is definitely one of these characters.


Like I said, I enjoyed the movie and found it a little silly, but the relationship between Rose and Dimitri is an interesting one. As a former teenaged girl who constantly had the hots for her older teachers and mentors, I have nothing but sympathy for this pair who have a lot of obstacles to overcome beyond their seven year age difference. At 24, Dimitri is a full-fledged adult with a life-threatening job that requires him to not only be in peak physical condition, but also mentally focused on his responsibilities as a guardian committed to protecting the Moroi royalty in their three-tiered society of vampires. His job is really important and he takes it very seriously.


Rose on the other hand, is a seventeen-year-old fledgling who is learning how to be a guardian. She understands how important her role will be, but she’s still trying to enjoy her youth. When she begins to respect Dimitri (and desire him) she wants nothing more than to become the best guardian she can be. Yes, she is motivated to do so in order to protect Lissa, but she is also seeking the approval of her mentor.

I found Dimitri relatively attractive when I watched the movie, but I completely fell for him while reading the book. He became hotter and hotter each time I turned a page. He’s emotionally stable even though his life hasn’t been a picnic. He’s killed people. He was raised without a full-time father figure due to the weird circumstances of biology and social norms in their world. He watched his mother be abused and sexualized by his mostly absent biological father, until one day he’d had enough and beat the crap out of the Moroi asshat who took advantage of his mother for years. He grieves the loss of someone he was supposed to be protecting. And, he develops an inappropriate infatuation with one of his students. An infatuation he continually denies, because he knows that it’s wrong. I don’t know about you, but a chaste male character who remains chaste because he is unable to have the object of his affection due to the fact that he believes it to be morally objectionable really turns me on.

No, seriously. That is hot. Especially if that character reads books and does lots of push-ups to distract himself from fucking the brains out of an under-aged girl who is practically begging for it.

Combat is hot

Today’s lesson: Hand to hand combat with sexy Russian men is super fucking hot.

It doesn’t help that they are constantly in situations where they have to either touch each other or fight for their lives. Rose understands the consequences of being attracted to her mentor, and although she wants him to reciprocate her feelings, she also doesn’t want him to lose his job for inappropriate behavior. But, neither of them is able to deny their feelings for each other forever. They try to keep their feelings a secret, which they manage to do until someone notices their attraction to each other and uses their emotional connection against them through magic.

Magic Spell

Dimitri: “I love your dress…let’s burn it.”

Even under the influence of magic, Dimitri is able to momentarily come to his senses and recognize that while his desires are being met, he still knows that his actions are wrong. Yes, the teen-aged girl he fantasizes about did show up in his room while he was in bed and throw herself at him, but he respects her enough and takes his position too seriously to allow either of them to make a mistake that could ruin their lives. Or, complicate their situation further.

I don’t know what the future holds for Dimitri Belikov and Rose Hathaway, but I’m dying to find out (and not so secretly hoping they get naked with each other). I’m going to pick up a copy of Frostbite from the library ASAP. And, the first chance I get, I’m rewatching Vampire Academy. Something tells me now that I know more about his personality and dark past, Dimitri will be three times hotter and my inner teen queen…hell, my middle-aged woman hormones will be raging out of control. As a teen I probably would have been a little too timid to really enjoy his company. Now? I’d make Dimitri beg for mercy.

Fictional Characters I Would Totally Fuck: Magneto

Over the weekend I went to see X-men: Apocalypse. I enjoyed the movie. In fact, as I usually do when watching Marvel movies, I experienced some catharsis. Marvel’s heroes and villains have always had a powerful effect on my psyche, and more often than not, when I see a movie featuring these amazing characters I cry. Laugh if you need to, but Marvel characters tend to experience some heavy-duty tragedy in their fictional lives, which makes them interesting, believable, and deserving of our empathy. Like regular old people such as you and me, they react to this tragedy in a multitude of ways. Some of them channel those negative feelings into helping others, while some take their pain and channel it into seeking revenge.

I don’t condone the choice to take revenge for the pain and suffering that people (fictitious or real) have experienced in their lives, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand the desire to do so. Revenge always seems like it’s going to be satisfying and it tempts us into believing that making our enemies pay for the hurt they’ve caused will somehow heal us. Unfortunately, for most people, revenge only causes more pain and turns people into the villains they hate so much.

A Heartbreaking Villain: Magneto

Erik Lehnsherr is a tragic character. His story line is riddled with black moments. Born Jewish in Germany, he survived the Holocaust, but his family didn’t. In the comics, we are told that he not only survived, but also was later made to work in the death camp at Auschwitz to remove the dead bodies of his fellow Jews who were murdered in the gas chambers. The Nazis persecuted him for being a Jew, and then because of his mutant ability, he was hunted and threatened by people who feared him, which put other people he loved in danger. His daughter Anya died at the hands of an angry mob after people witnessed his mutant power. His wife, pregnant with twins, left him because she was devastated by the loss of their daughter and frightened by his power. To say that Erik is emotionally damaged by the terrible things that happened to him and his loved ones would be an understatement.


When I was first introduced to Magneto as a kid, I didn’t understand why he was viewed as a villain. In fact, Stan Lee has been quoted to say that he never intended for Magneto to be seen as a villain. Inspired by the leaders of the Civil Rights movement, he envisioned Magneto as the Malcolm X to Professor X’s Martin Luther King Jr. – two men fighting for the same cause, but with different ideologies. Each man wishes to protect mutants from persecution and violence, but Magneto prefers to be proactive and confront the enemies of mutantkind BEFORE they can hurt his brothers and sisters. Charles Xavier has chosen to walk a more peaceful path, and never gives up hope that mutants and humans can live peacefully together. However, he also understands that the path he’s chosen is dangerous and trains his students so that they are ready to fight when the war against mutants ends up on their doorstep. He’s hopeful, but not an idiot.


Our tax dollars at work.

The common struggle that initially unites these two men is compromised by their opposing views on how to deal with the threat of humanity. Magneto has witnessed the evil of humankind time and time again. His trust for humans will only extend so far, because he is always waiting for them to disappoint him. If we were to diagnose Erik with a psychological disorder, I think it would be safe to say that he suffers from PTSD after the atrocities he witnessed in Nazi Germany, which has contributed to his trust issues and difficulty maintaining relationships, romantic or otherwise. Intimacy can be a real challenge when you ultimately trust no one.


They need more on-screen smooch time.

Because, even the people Erik has loved and attempted to trust have either abandoned him, or given him a reason to turn on them. Or his paranoia leads him to betray them before they can betray him. His agenda, to punish those who threaten him and his mutant brethren, has destroyed more relationships than healed them. His pursuit of revenge alienates him from friends and family, potentially making him one of the loneliest villains in the Marvel universe.


What? That there should be scenes of both of you naked? That’s totally what I was thinking.

There’s a lot of ground to cover with Magneto seeing as how he appeared in the first X-men comic in 1963. Since there’s so much material to pull from, I’m going to cheat a little and only focus on the films that he’s appeared in. Yes, I’m fully aware that these films deviate from the original storylines that appeared in the comics, but since amazing actors have portrayed him on screen, I’m going to focus on them for the purposes of this blog post. I’m sticking to the films mainly because while Magneto has always been an inspiring character in print, it’s Michael Fassbender’s portrayal of him that stirs my heart (and loins) the most.

Magneto, played by Ian McKellen, first appeared on film in X-men (2000). McKellen did an amazing job of conveying the complexity of the character, as well as his cleverness, his power, his skills at manipulation, and his single-minded determination to stop all threats to mutant life. No matter what. McKellen reprised the role several times, including his appearance in X-men: Days of Future Past in which he plays the older Magneto and Michael Fassbender the younger Magneto.


The sassier side of Magneto.

When we were given an in-depth peek into Magneto’s origin story in X-men: First Class (2011), Michael Fassbender had the unique opportunity to convey the raw emotional turmoil and rage-inspired violence that labeled this misunderstood character a villain. Not to mention the fact that he also brought Magneto to a level of sexiness that pairs well with James McAvoy’s equally sexy Charles Xavier. Maybe it’s the costuming from the 1960’s that reminded me of some of my favorite spies played by gorgeous British actors, or maybe it’s just the fact that Michael Fassbender is simply one of the sexiest men alive. At any rate, I have no complaints about the casting.


Speaking of fantastic casting choices, when I saw X-men: Days of Future Past, my head nearly exploded when Evan Peters took on the role of Quicksilver, Magneto’s son. He was amazing, and his scenes were by far some of my favorites in both Days of Future Past and Apocalypse. Evan Peters stole my heart in the American Horror Story series, and he’s definitely on that list of actors who portray monsters in such a way to make me lust after them. I’m not one of those women who considers marrying serial killers on death row, but I do fantasize about fictional characters who commit similar acts of horror.

I think anyone would find it difficult to argue against Magneto’s complexity, or the fact that he is a damaged soul. And, even though he makes a lot of terrible decisions, I often find myself cheering him on. Humans do terrible things to each other, but those horrific acts become even worse when targeted at people who don’t look like them or share their cultural beliefs. You’d have to be an idiot not to grasp that the battle between humans and mutants is an allegory for racism. The fact that Erik is a Jew who survived the Holocaust allows me to overlook some of his methods for dealing with his enemies.


In fact, I applauded his mission to track down and kill former Nazis who associated with the man who exploited his power and turned him into a monster. However, his belief that mutants are superior to humans sounds an awful lot like the ideology of the Nazis. That’s not a coincidence. Ironic, yes. Coincidence, no. It’s one of the personality quirks that make him such an interesting character. His psyche was so damaged by his tormentors that he uses their ideas and methods to smite his enemies.


A friend of mine who also saw X-men: Apocalypse over the weekend was unable to accept Magneto’s actions in the film as redeemable. He’s right. A lot of people died because of his choices and the actions of the people he teamed up with to essentially destroy the world. Again, we were reminded that his pain and rage are his two biggest motivators. Does that excuse his actions? No. Do I still feel a kinship with him because of his pain and because he’s one of my favorite fictional characters? Of course I do. Is it true that each time I see Michael Fassbender in that role I want to help Magneto heal his pain any way I possibly can? Absolutely.


Seriously. Look at this guy. You know you want to hug him. Kiss him. Handcuff him to a bed frame. Whatever it takes to distract him from making any more mistakes.

I’m not going to lie. A character with a backstory like his in the hands of a gorgeous actor like Fassbender is going to win my heart every single time. He is powerful, emotionally damaged, fighting for a cause I can get behind, and smoking hot. And he fucks up constantly and continually drives a wedge between himself and the people who care about him the most. In his efforts to protect mutants, he ultimately destroys all hope of uniting them on a common front. He becomes worse than the enemy he’s fighting. And, my heart breaks for him. There isn’t enough love in this world to heal Magneto, because he refuses to be healed. He isn’t redeemable because he doesn’t wish to be redeemed.


Let Magneto’s major flaw be a lesson for us all. You can’t heal your own pain by causing pain in others. But, that doesn’t make him any less deserving of our empathy and love. Magneto will always have a special place in my heart, in that dark corner I reserve for the justifiable villains, antiheroes and monsters. Always.

Fictional Characters I Would Totally Fuck: Lucifer

I have a confession to make. I love Lucifer. To some, this will come as no surprise, since many of my friends already know that I have a fondness for darkness. But I’m only drawn to it if there is a spark of light shining in that darkness. The promise of redemption. Evil, while intriguing, usually leaves a bad taste in my mouth — actually, it makes my guts churn and fills me with dread. True Evil (notice the capital E) is something I hope to never have to confront face-to-face. Just because someone has a reputation for being monstrous, doesn’t automatically make them Evil. Especially if they’ve been misrepresented since the beginning of time. Lucifer is only mentioned a few times in the Bible, but talk about a reputation. People have been blaming him for all the e(E)vil in the world since he made his fabled fall from Grace. Well, him and that bitch Eve.


I recently finished watching the first season of Lucifer. Twice. Initially I was skeptical. I mean Lucifer is one of the most misunderstood, misrepresented fictional characters of all time. Yes, that’s right, I said fictional character. In fact, this particular character made his first appearance in Neil Gaiman’s Sandman comics in the late 1980’s. I’m sure there are plenty of people out there (cough, cough, Christians) who will read this and be angry that I’m referring to Lucifer (Satan, the Devil, the Prince of Darkness, Lord of Lies, or whatever you’re most comfortable calling him) as a fictional character. But here’s the thing, I’m not a Christian. I’m not an atheist either. I believe in something, but I’m not exactly down with the concept of one all-powerful creator, especially not one as temperamental as the Judaeo-Christian god. If we’re to believe all the promises of damnation and hellfire, there’s no pleasing that guy. If Hell does exist, I’ll probably end up there. Not because I’m an inherently bad or cruel person, but I tend to question everything. Including the word of God. I’m an educated uppity Negro who believes in self-determinism and indulging in hedonistic pleasures. And, since the first overly judgmental Christian pointed a finger in my direction and deemed me a heathen, I’ve had a special place for Lucifer in my heart.

Tom Ellis as Lucifer with Wings

Is it just me, or did it get hot as Hell in here?

Sympathy for the Devil: Lucifer Morningstar

Before I start talking about my new TV boyfriend, Lucifer Morningstar, I’d like to talk a little bit about the mythical origins of Lucifer and why I – as well as many other people – find him so fascinating, and yes, deserving of our sympathy.

“But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most?” – Mark Twain

Talk about a tragic character. He’s the original scapegoat. In his fascinating book, The Devil: A Biography, Peter Stanford looks at the role the Devil has played in shaping how people view evil and how our perception of evil has evolved over time.

In the modern mind it [evil] is located within each individual — what Jung called our “shadow.” Historically, the tendency was to place it [evil] outside — on the Devil, who exploited a weakness in the human makeup. Of the two placements, the contemporary option is harder to deal with since it imposes a responsibility on each and every individual. The traditional route, while emphasizing that God gave each man and woman free will — the capacity to choose right or wrong — did have the bonus of off-loading some of the burden onto an external force. That is why the Devil still attracts a following. He represents the easy option when we are confronted with evil. (6-7)

All of the world’s sins are blamed on him, and he must forever carry the burden of punishing the wicked – or anyone who doesn’t follow God’s commandments. Once one of God’s favorite angels, Lucifer was cast into Hell after refusing to follow God’s word to the last letter. Pride was his downfall. He exercised his free will and challenged his father’s authority. He rebelled.

12How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!
13For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north:
14I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High.
Isaiah 14:12-14 (King James Version)


As a teenager, I developed an interest in Lucifer’s story even though I didn’t attend church. Maybe because I didn’t attend church. I drew parallels between his banishment to Hell and the punishment my friends received for expressing themselves honestly. I had friends who were kicked out of their houses because they could no longer conform to the expectations their families had established for them. I don’t know about you, but when I was a teen I rebelled. Most of us do. I dressed all in black (wait, I still do that), wore makeup that made me look dead, experimented with drugs, climbed into cars with strangers, flirted with married men, rode on the backs of motorcycles under the stars past midnight, made out with boys in leather jackets, read vintage smut and other banned books, watched lots of inappropriate foreign films, listened to loud rock and roll (1950’s – present), wrote poetry about killing people I hated, daydreamed of becoming a vampire or succubus, partied with drag queens, played with Ouija boards, read Tarot cards, and hung out with juvenile delinquents. Sounds fun, right? There were plenty of people willing to lead me down the primrose path. Oddly enough, none of them were Satan. No matter how badly they wanted to be.


Just to piss people off, or fuck with their heads, my friends and I declared an alliance with Satan and all things considered evil by mainstream culture. We’d shout, “Hail Satan!” and then giggle like schoolgirls. Because we were schoolgirls. Schoolgirls with a very dark sense of humor who were bored with mainstream ideals of good and evil. Let me tell you, we had a great time. If we had done any of those things prior to the latter part of the 20th century, we would have been labeled as witches (in some cases we were) and punished severely. None of us really made a pact with Satan, despite what some of our classmates and teachers thought. Being accused of practicing witchcraft and worshipping Satan only made us laugh, and oddly enough gave us a certain amount of power, independence, and individual voices. Wearing black lipstick to high school doesn’t make you a witch or Satan worshipper. It makes you a scapegoat. But if you stand up for yourself, speak up for your rights to wear whatever you want, and the rights of others to be different, that makes you a strong teen girl. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was becoming a black lipstick wearing feminist. An uppity Satan-loving Goth Negro.

Eartha Kitt as Cat-Woman

Role model.

It wasn’t always easy to wake up in the morning and be myself. Some days it was fucking horrible. Knowing that about myself, I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Lucifer’s plight. I knew what it meant to be misunderstood, and feared or hated for being different. People shouted at my mother from a passing car when we walked down the street, “Nigger lover!”, because she was holding my hand. I was five. If there is a Hell, I hope every evil racist asshole who ever made me and my mom and dad feel afraid or feel bad about ourselves goes straight there and suffers the punishments of the damned for all eternity.

Aside from the fact that people treated my family like shit because we were ethnically mixed, I was always too heavy (fat), didn’t wear the right clothes (poor), liked to read for fun (nerd), talked too much (behavioral problems), and collected Star Wars figurines (um, those are for boys). I’m not exactly sure when it happened, but at some point I decided, maybe not even consciously at first, that if people were going to see and treat me differently anyway, I might as well give them something interesting to look at.


I wish I knew the exact moment when the light bulb in my brain switched to black light and I decided to give conformity the finger. I like to imagine I was born that way, but a very specific chain of events occurred to make me think it was perfectly acceptable for a seventeen-year-old girl to smoke pot in her bedroom and listen to the Velvet Underground while lying in bed with her older punk rock boyfriend.


Before I fell under Tom Ellis’s spell as Lucifer, there were a few other devils who captured my heart (and mind) in film and television. He’s in good company. Although technically I’m talking about the same character, the way that different people portray and/or write about him makes this character fresh each time we encounter him in fiction. A purely evil Satan wouldn’t interest me, but a complex character who finds humor in our misery, can make fun of himself, and shed light onto the human condition in a way most of us can relate to, can provide hours of entertainment for me. He’s the ultimate antagonist who can inspire fear or sympathy, and more often than not, lust.


Sweet Baby Jesus!

In 1987 I went to the movie theater to see a film starring Lisa Bonet (Epiphany Proudfoot), Mickey Rourke (Harry Angel), and Robert De Niro (Louis Cypher). I wanted to see Angel Heart for two reasons: 1) it was set in New Orleans, and thanks to Anne Rice’s Interview with the Vampire, I had developed an infatuation with the city, which would eventually become a life-long love affair, and 2) I wanted to see an interracial couple having sex on screen. I may never be as tall and thin as Lisa Bonet, but at age 15 I viewed her as the closest physical representation I could see of myself on TV and in movies. And, she was starring in a movie about voodoo set in New Orleans having completely inappropriate blood-drenched sex with an older white man who is running from the devil. Seriously? The only thing that could have made this movie any better for me as a teen would be for her to somehow turn into a vampire. But hey, she’s a mambo, so I can’t complain. I would LOVE to talk about the intersectionality of racial, gender, and sexual politics in Angel Heart. And, someday I will. Today is not that day.

Today I’m talking about Lucifer, and in this particular case, Louis Cypher (say it aloud in a French accent). If you ever have a chance to pick up the novel this film is adapted from, Falling Angel (1978), by William Hjortsberg, you will be amused by how many parodies of Lucifer’s name one author can think up. And, it’s a great story.

Cover Art for Falling Angel

1996 Mass Market Cover

Robert De Niro’s Lucifer is handsome, charming, well-groomed, wears expensive suits, has a taste for unusual jewelry, manicures his nails into pristine points, and has the air of a mysterious European aristocrat. He’s also spooky and sexy, which is always a great combination of personality traits in my book. Louis Cypher hires a law firm, Macintosh and Winesap (get it?), to hire a private investigator, Harry Angel, to find a missing person. If you’ve never seen Angel Heart, shame on you. But just in case, I’ll be nice and won’t spoil it for you.


‘Mephistopheles’ is such a mouthful in Manhattan, Johnny.

Needless to say, I love this film. I’ve owned various copies between 1987 and the present, and I come back to it from time to time when I need a pick me up. That’s right, devil-themed suspense films about voodoo cheer me up. What’s it to ya’?

De Niro’s Lucifer is a tough act to follow. He has so many quotable lines, and you can see he is clearly having fun in this role. I always liked Robert De Niro’s work, but this role gave him a whole new depth that made me fall a little bit in love with him. It was a long time before I saw another Devil quite so appealing.

One of the most lust-inspiring, yet unsettling portrayals of Lucifer is Viggo Mortensen’s in The Prophecy (1995). When I discovered this gem of a film I watched it over and over. I made my friends watch it with me over and over. It’s dark, it’s funny, it delves into the age old debate over good and evil, we see glimpses of the war in Heaven, Christopher Walken plays the archangel Gabriel and Viggo Mortensen is Lucifer. What’s not to like?


Humans…and how I love you talking monkeys for this…know more about war and treachery of the spirit than any angel.

Mortensen, dressed in a black cassock like a priest and wearing black nail polish, is somehow simultaneously aloof, bored, insightful, petulant, mean, creepy and sensual. He’s attractive, yet repulsive, like a big piece of decadent dark chocolate cake dusted with arsenic. You’ll probably take a bite even though you know you’ll regret it later. He’s beautifully monstrous.

He inspires fear in the people who cross his path in the film, until his mantle of power and control slips and we are shown his desperation, a peek at his loneliness, cravenness, as he threatens to take the two main characters back to Hell with him. As we see the motivation behind his threats to drag them to Hell, his threats seem more like the pathetic attempts of a lonely drunk at last call looking for someone to go home with him. Physically appealing, but loathsome. Pitiful. But not exactly Evil.

Viggo was my favorite Lucifer until I met Peter Stormare’s Lucifer in Constantine (2005).

Constantine – Lucifer

Seriously, Stormare’s Lucifer is super fucking cool and spooky. When he shows up dressed in all white to collect John Constantine’s soul — in person — it’s like the Godfather showing up to collect an unpaid debt. Rather than ascending from Hell as we might expect, he enters this realm descending from an unseen portal above. His bare feet and the cuffs of his white suit are stained with something that looks a lot like tar. His eyes are red-rimmed, like he hasn’t slept in a very long time. Managing Hell is a full-time job after all. It’s open 24/7.


Sonny, I’ve got a whole theme park full of red delights for you.

Aside from Tilda Swinton as Gabriel, Peter Stormare’s Lucifer is one of the best things Constantine has to offer. Actually, his portrayal of the Devil is one of the best I’ve seen and it invariably makes it onto top ten lists of all time best Devils in films. Ironically, the only bad casting choice in this film was Keanu Reeves as John Constantine.

After Stormare’s, my favorite Lucifer became Mark Pellegrino’s on Supernatural. Pellegrino first appeared as Nick/Lucifer in the 2009 episode, “Sympathy for the Devil,” in which a man with a tormented past, consumed by grief, with apparently nothing left to lose or live for, accepts a demon’s offer to become the vessel of Lucifer. That’s not an easy gig. Especially if you aren’t genetically predisposed to contain the soul of a deity. Nick is only a temporary skin suit, and we soon learn that Lucifer really has his sights set on Sam Winchester.


Michael turned on me. Called me a freak. A monster. And then he beat me down. All because I was different. Because I had a mind of my own.

Pellegrino’s Lucifer is a bit more complex than the previous ones I’ve mentioned. He’s an emotionally disturbed fallen angel who will never get over being banished to Hell by his father. The way he sees it, his family abandoned him and the psychological aftermath has made him into a sarcastic, spiteful, jealous asshole seeking vengeance in the form of world annihilation. He believes the only thing that will make him feel better is to start the Apocalypse. He hates humanity and wishes to destroy it to spite his father. Some angels support his efforts, while others think he’s acting like a spoiled jerk.


Don’t hold back, Gabriel, tell us how you really feel.

Like I said, Lucifer’s soul is slowly eroding his vessel (Nick) and is looking to take up permanent residence inside Sam’s skin. So, he tortures Sam psychologically by making himself invisible except to Sam in the hopes of driving him insane. Hilarity ensues.


Resting Bitch Face Championship Finale

I like Pellegrino’s Lucifer because he is hilarious, but also because when he explains why he does the things he does, no matter how atrocious, he’s very convincing. Does this Lucifer have any hope of redemption? Possibly, but I’m not going to hold my breath. Just because I agree with some of his arguments doesn’t mean I would blindly follow him to Hell. When it comes to charismatic figures, I reserve a certain amount disbelief. I’ve been lead down the primrose path by attractive men with compelling stories more often than I’d like to admit. It’s alluring and exciting for a while, but eventually the emotional roller coaster stops being fun. Especially if your sweetheart has apocalyptic aspirations.

Like I said, pulling off this character isn’t easy. If he’s portrayed as being nothing more than mindless evil, I’m not only bored, but insulted. If he’s portrayed as a simpering, child-like man who throws temper tantrums because he doesn’t get his way, then I’m probably only going to keep watching for the spectacle. Most people fail at portraying Lucifer, because they don’t fully grasp or appreciate his complexity. Tom Ellis is not one of those people.

Admittedly, even if he wasn’t hilarious, tall, dark and handsome, seductive, sensitive, sexy, well-dressed, sarcastic, and  yes, at times scary, the fact that he’s a bit geeky in an overly-educated way and has a British accent would have been enough to capture my attention. I mean, for Christ’s sake, look at him! I know what I’m about to say may offend some Whovians, but I don’t care. I think this man would make a fine Doctor. There. I said it. I’m not taking it back. I’d love to see him traveling through time and space in a blue Police Box…with a young woman of color as his companion…and at least one episode with  Captain Jack Harkness. Look, you have your fantasies about the Doctor, and I have mine.


Jesus, Mary, and Lucifer.

When we first meet this Lucifer, he seems pretty shallow. A rich handsome playboy driving an expensive car who buys his way out of bad situations. He owns a club in LA and has a reputation of being a ladies man. Initially, I wasn’t impressed.


Yeah. Not feeling it.

Not until he began interacting with people and we had a chance to explore how he manages his relationships with them. Through certain relationships he begins to grow emotionally and each episode we see a little deeper into his soul. His personality is what makes him so fucking attractive. He’s taking a vacation from Hell, but the longer he stays on Earth and builds more friendships, he has even less of a desire to return to his job of torturing the damned. His allure is in his vulnerability, which he tries to hide and deny. Not only because he needs to maintain his reputation, but because he is afraid of this transformation and doesn’t understand it.


Totally feeling it.

Over the course of the first season, Lucifer develops feelings for a police detective, Chloe Decker, and she develops feelings for him. Feelings he doesn’t understand, because he’s never felt that way about a woman. Aside from his confusion about his emotional state, their relationship is complicated by a long list of reasons why they can’t and probably shouldn’t become more than friends. They have some really heavy emotional scenes together, and each time they get a little closer, one of them pulls back out of fear.

In fact, he’s so freaked out about these new and confusing feelings, that he starts…seeing a therapist. I’ll give you three guesses to figure out how he pays for her services.

Although Lucifer is enjoying his time on Earth, there are a few people who really wish he’d go back to Hell.


Even the Devil needs a BFF.

Mazikeen, or Maze, is a demon who has faithfully followed Lucifer since his fall from Grace. She’s his friend, sometime lover, bodyguard, and assassin. She’s having a good time on Earth, too. Well, most of the time. But as she sees him changing, becoming more sensitive to the plight of humanity, she advocates for returning to Hell so he can become his old devilish self again. His emotional attachments to humans terrify her, and yeah, makes her jealous.

But, the one character who pushes him to return to his duties of punishing the damned more than any other is his brother, Amenadiel, the archangel.


That is one good-looking family.

Despite Lucifer’s openness about being the Devil, the detective, Chloe, refuses to accept that he isn’t just an eccentric and overly-dramatic, but well-meaning nutcase. However, there are a few things she witnesses that make her question who he really is. But, like most sane and practical people, she keeps denying the proof that he’s telling the truth.


Ironically, her daughter has no trouble believing he is who he says who he is.


While this Lucifer is fun-loving, cynical, charming, likes to help people he cares about, and…I said sexy, didn’t I?…you still shouldn’t piss him off. Especially when it comes to people or things he’s emotionally attached to.


Yeah, I’m absolutely smitten with Tom Ellis’s Lucifer. He’s everything I’m looking for in a convincing Devil. Smart, funny, emotionally damaged, but open to growth, and I said tall, dark and handsome, right? His body was made for suits (or nakedness), and his accent sends shivers through me.


Let’s make a deal.

If you haven’t watched the first season, treat yourself. Honestly, I’m probably going to watch it again. I’ll be fantasizing about Tom Ellis with a sonic screwdriver in his hand, and contemplating the fate of my immortal soul.


See you in Hell!

Fictional Characters I Would Totally Fuck: Lawrence Talbot

Human behavior is often weird and scary. And, unless real monsters actually walked the Earth in days of old, all monster myths are most likely inspired by some truly terrifying things people did to their fellow humans. Rape, torture, murder, cannibalism and trophy collecting are not just products of the imaginations of horror writers. People have been brutally killing each other since the dawn of time. Violence is part of the natural world, no matter what the new age hippies try to tell you. Humans are animals, and no matter how many civilizations we erect, how many Starbucks we build, or how many PTA meetings we attend, the truth is humans are the scariest things on the planet. Humans like to kill things and each other, and whenever possible, they like to blame these icky feelings on someone else. Scapegoating is a national pastime in many cultures around the globe and it has been that way since before the Romans started nailing Christians to crosses.

On October 31, 1589, Peter Stumpp, the Werewolf of Bedburg, was executed for killing and cannibalizing 18 people. Stumpp’s trial and execution is one the most famous cases of reported lycanthropy in European history, and it has fed the imaginations of writers ever since. Werewolf trials occurred simultaneously with witch trials, but the sheer volume of executed witches places these atrocities at the forefront of our dark past, and often overshadows the werewolf hunts that also took place in Europe and colonial America. Peter Stumpp was caught, sentenced to death, brutally tortured and executed after he confessed to killing 14 children, two pregnant women and their fetuses, which he later described as “dainty morsels.”


He admitted to killing and eating parts of his victims, but claimed that he only did these terrible things while wearing a magical belt given to him by the Devil. When he wore the cursed object he transformed into a wolf-like creature with sharp teeth and super-human strength. When he removed the belt he would revert to his normal human form. This type of werewolf, one changed through the use of a magical belt, is called a Boxenwolf, and doesn’t require the bite of another werewolf to achieve transformation, but it does require a pact with the Devil.

Stumpp was a cannibal and claiming to be a werewolf may have made it easier for him to deal with his own insanity. Blaming the Devil makes it easier to sleep at night I suppose. Stumpp also had sex with his daughter and a female cousin, and claimed that he had sexual relations with a succubus, which was another gift from the Devil. Is it just me, or was Peter Stumpp batshit crazy?

Clinical lycanthropy is a rare form of mental illness in which the patient believes himself to be transforming into something animal-like, and is classified as a form of schizophrenia due to how it manifests, with the first criteria being delusions.

I have a special place in my heart for the mentally ill. My father was a therapist, but before he earned his master’s degree in counseling, he started at the bottom of the crazy ladder by “driving the van of retards” (his words…and my mother’s), then he lived in a group home, then he worked nights at the hospital doing crisis intervention, and then he worked on the psych ward, and then he became a licensed therapist with a specialty in hypnotherapy. No shit. My dad was a hypnotherapist. Guess who was one of his early test subjects. Yep, me. In grade school. I was a great test subject, because I suffered from night terrors, and he used hypnosis and basic relaxation techniques/meditation to help me fall asleep at night. My nightmares were so bad that I was afraid to go to sleep, and had panic attacks when confronted with bedtime.

Because I was taught to respect as opposed to fear mental illness, and view it as a medical condition that can be treated with medication and/or therapies, I gained an appreciation and a simultaneous fascination with madness. I grew up in a small town where everyone knows everyone’s business. And, the town crazies, at least the ones with a diagnosis, were very familiar to me because of what my dad did for a living. They liked my dad, so they would talk to him when they saw him in public. They liked me too. Sometimes a little too much.

When I was about 13 or 14, a man who I knew to be a schizophrenic, and who preferred to medicate himself with booze as opposed to taking his prescribed medication, followed me home from school one day. I’m not sure what his plans were, but he would always try to engage me in conversation when we would see him around town. I liked him. And, I had done some reading about schizophrenia in the school library and knew it was something he couldn’t control. Like I said, I have a special place in my heart for the mentally ill. Anyway, once I was safely inside the house with all the doors locked, I called my dad. He called the police, but made sure to get there before they did. While I watched from inside, my dad tried to talk to the man and explained the situation to the police. He never followed me home again.

Although I was genuinely afraid that afternoon while that man stood outside the house pacing back and forth, as if arguing with himself about what to do next, there was a part of me that still felt compassion for him. His illness had taken control. An illness without a cure. Would he have hurt me? I don’t know. I’m also glad I had the sense not to find out.

Sigmund Freud, the father of psychoanalysis, theorized the existence of libido, “an energy with which mental processes and structures are invested and which generates erotic attachments, and a death drive, the source of repetition, hate, aggression and neurotic guilt.” Lawrence Talbot is Freud’s wet dream. A truly tragic character, he is a textbook example of how repressed memories and emotional abandonment in childhood can lead to mental instability that manifests itself in inappropriate behaviors in adulthood.

What could be more inappropriate than allowing your rage to transform your id into a monster that rampages through the countryside (and London) ripping, tearing, murdering, and eating everyone unfortunate enough to find themselves in your path? If you had the ability to control this transformation and continued to kill people, that would make you a true monster. But, if like Lawrence Talbot, you were cursed with this terrible illness and not only despised your own actions, but sought to put an end to the curse, would you still be considered a monster? Not in my opinion, but I’ve been called crazy a few times, too.

Crazy is the New Black: The Wolfman


There are several versions of Lawrence Talbot’s story. The first time I encountered Lawrence (Larry) was in the 1941 Universal film, The Wolf Man starring Lon Chaney Jr. I loved this movie when I was a kid. A Gypsy curse, fortune telling, lycanthropy, Claude Rains, Bela Lugosi, pentagrams, and a werewolf transformation involving nothing but makeup and lap-dissolves. What’s not to love? I mean, seriously this film set the standard for 20th century werewolf tales and inspired writers, filmmakers, and TV producers to take the legends of old and turn them into the iconic monsters we love so much.


Modern audiences would most likely find this version kind of cheesy and not very scary. To be honest, I enjoy watching The Wolf Man now because of its canonical importance, nostalgic value, and the fact that it makes me laugh hysterically. Besides, CLAUDE RAINS and BELA LUGOSI. We’re talking Universal monster movie gold here.

Here’s the basic premise (I stole from IMDb):

When his brother dies, Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney Jr.) returns to Wales and reconciles with his father (Claude Rains). While there, he visits an antique shop and, hoping to impress Gwen (Evelyn Ankers), the attractive shopkeeper, buys a silver walking cane. That same night he kills a wolf with it, only to later learn that he actually killed a man (Bela Lugosi). A gypsy (Maria Ouspenskaya) explains that it was her son, a werewolf, that he killed, and that Larry is now one himself.

While we feel sorry for Larry for finding himself in the wrong place at the wrong time…although the fortune teller might say otherwise, Lon Chaney Jr.’s Talbot doesn’t inspire a whole lot of empathy. I mean, sure I feel bad for the guy, but the level of tragedy he experiences pales in comparison to the 2010 Universal film, The Wolfman, starring Benicio Del Toro.

Here’s another basic premise (I stole from IMDb):

Though absent from his ancestral home of Blackmoor for many years, aristocrat Lawrence Talbot (Benicio Del Toro) returns to find his missing brother at the request of the latter’s fiancee, Gwen (Emily Blunt). He learns that a creature has links to an ancient curse turning people into werewolves when the moon is full. To save the village and protect Gwen, he must slay the bloodthirsty beast, but he contends with a horrifying family legacy.

Sounds a bit more compelling, doesn’t it?

In this version, which takes place near the tail end of the Victorian Era (post Jack the Ripper), Lawrence Talbot is a celebrated actor who has lived in America since childhood. When we first meet Lawrence he is performing Hamlet on the stage, which we later find is part of a London tour, conveniently placing him near his ancestral home, Talbot Hall in Blackmoor, Northumberland.


Why do I never see men who look like this when I ride the train?

After receiving an unexpected visit from his brother Ben’s fiancée, Gwen Conliffe, he returns home. Lawrence learns of Ben’s disappearance soon after he goes missing, but by the time he makes the train ride from London to Blackmoor, his brother’s corpse has been found in a ditch near Talbot Hall. He arrives too late to save his brother, and memories of his dark past are stirred up when he must face his father for the first time since childhood.


Victorian werewolves are un-fucking-believably cool.

Like most people confronted with the mysterious and violent death of a loved one, Lawrence wants answers. But that’s not all he seeks. He is also desperate for the love and acceptance of his father, an emotionally crippled man full of dark secrets and brimming with alpha male testosterone. Lawrence never fully recovered from his mother’s death. When he meets Gwen, who not only looks remarkably like his mother, but also seems to embody many of her rare feminine qualities, he finds himself almost immediately attracted to her. Ben and Lawrence are emotionally and sexually attracted to a woman who reminds them of their mother. While Lawrence has repressed the exact details of his mother’s death, he still blames his father and hates him for sending him away at the age of nine.

Poor young Lawrence witnessed something so terrible that he had a mental collapse. He was sent to an asylum, presumably after he recounted what he saw the night his mother died. Due to the fantastic nature of his story, he was believed to be insane and treated as such until he accepted the story that was fed to him over and over: His mother committed suicide. She did not die at the hands of his father, who killed her because he is a monster. Once Lawrence was “healed,” he was shipped off to live with his aunt in America. Much like our dear friend Oedipus, Lawrence desires to be back in the arms of his loving mother and wishes his father were dead in her place.

Soon after Lawrence arrives in Blackmoor, he begins his investigation into his brother’s death. Against his father’s wishes, he examines the body, which is so terribly ravaged that…well, it’s worth watching the film just to see the look on Benicio Del Toro’s face. It’s one of those moments in horror where you know something really awful has happened, but instead of reacting the same way the character does, your brain interprets the horror as something inappropriately comical and despite how gruesome the situation might be, you laugh out loud.


Get ready to laugh in 3…2…1.

After the shock of seeing his brother’s mangled corpse, Lawrence seeks refreshment in the local pub, which immediately made me think of The Slaughtered Lamb in An American Werewolf in London (1981).


That’s Rik Mayall in the turtleneck if you never noticed before.

Apparently, pubs in the UK are a great place to learn about werewolf lore. And the locals will most likely interpret your lack of knowledge as a sign that you’re going to be the werewolf’s next victim.


Maybe it’s just my hormonal pre-teen self talking, but David Naughton was a totally fuckable werewolf, and he was the first werewolf I ever lusted after.

Despite the intentional humor of American Werewolf, there are still some pretty chilling scenes that bore deep into my subconscious mind, where fear and sexuality meet up in some very weird ways.


I had a lot of dreams about this monster. Not all of them were scary.

ANYWAY. Lawrence hears the local bumpkins talking about werewolves, their hatred of Gypsies, distrust of Sir John Talbot, and their belief that Lawrence’s mother was not only a Gypsy, but a whore to boot. You know, pointing fingers and making wild accusations. Scapegoating. But, in this case, they aren’t too far off the mark. Except for their beliefs about Gypsies. Oh and, the rumor about the late Mrs. Talbot having questionable morals. Because, as everyone knows all of Victorian (and our current) societal problems can be directly linked back to foreigners (and anyone who isn’t White) and overt female sexuality.


Nothing upsets these dudes more than Blacks and vaginas.


And, apparently the same things upset these dudes.

Truly, nothing warms the heart or makes you feel more at home than when you overhear some local jackass talking shit about your dead mother as you mentally prepare for your brother’s funeral.


Remember that moment when you first realized that Victorian funerary garb is totally a fetish? No? Me neither.

After the funeral, and again, against his father’s explicit instructions to stay in the house, Lawrence continues his investigation into Ben’s death by visiting the nearby Gypsy camp. Shortly after he arrives at the camp, so do some of the local bullies. They threaten the Gypsies and blame Ben’s horrific death on an elderly trained bear. Lawrence isn’t an idiot. He doesn’t think the bear hurt anyone, but he’s sure that something is up and the Gypsies might have some insight. As he begins questioning people in the camp, some major carnage happens. Did I mention there’s a full moon?

Unlike the men from the village, Lawrence grabs a weapon, protects women and children, and chases whatever has been slashing its way through the camp with a shotgun. He’s a pretty good shot, but the creature is too fast. He stalks the beast to a misty stone circle where he quickly loses his bearings due a complete lack of visibility. This is a really intense scene that keeps you on the edge of your seat. You feel Lawrence’s fear and adrenaline mounting as he tries to find the creature he’s been chasing. When the beast attacks Lawrence, you anticipate it with your nerve endings, but you don’t see it coming until it’s too late. Just like Lawrence.

Almost mortally wounded, Lawrence receives battlefield surgery Gypsy style in a scene that always sends chills through me. Watching someone getting stitches is one thing, but watching them get stitches in a bacteria-ridden Gypsy vardo with a hooked needle to essentially reattach their head to their neck and shoulder takes you to completely new levels of body horror, Mysophobia, and trypanophobia. Realistically, even if he survived the injury, the ensuing infection would have probably killed him. But that wouldn’t be a very satisfying end to this story, would it?

Lawrence not only survives the attack, but over the course of a month he has a complete recovery that raises some questions for his doctor and an Inspector from Scotland Yard, Aberline, who comes to Blackmoor from London to follow up on Ben’s murder. Aberline is aware that Lawrence spent time in an asylum as a child and insinuates that his ability to portray so many characters on the stage may stem from a deep-seated mental illness like schizophrenia or multiple personality disorder. Without coming right out and saying it, he suggests that Lawrence may have had a hand in the carnage at the Gypsy encampment. Again, Lawrence is no dummy. He knows what Aberline is getting at and asks him to leave.


Hugo Weaving in a psychological pissing contest with Benicio Del Toro? Is it getting hot in here?

After Lawrence’s miraculous recovery, he and Gwen get to know each other a little better.


Fig. 1 – Victorian Flirting 101: Devise clever excuses to press your body against a lady’s.

So, I mentioned that the doctor is a little more than concerned about the fact that Lawrence not only healed quicker than medical science could explain, but also, he doesn’t seem to have any scarring, disfigurement, or signs of an injury that should have permanently crippled if not killed him. Those darn Supernatural Forces laugh in the face of Science. Which apparently, the villagers don’t find funny. They show up to a) prove that he is a werewolf, and b) kill him once they have their proof.


Fucking nosy neighbors.

When the lynch mob shows up outside Talbot Hall demanding blood, Sir John Talbot comes to his son’s rescue and threatens to kill anyone who trespasses on their land again. Before Sir John comes outside, the villagers grab Lawrence (it takes three to subdue him), and in the struggle he sustains a minor injury. A cut on the lip that sends Gwen into nurture mode.


Fig. 2 – Victorian Flirting 101: When seeking a man’s affection, dab blood from his sensually open mouth with a pristine, white handkerchief to metaphorically suggest that you’d like him to violently shove the candles off that table and deflower you in the most face-flushing, bodice-ripping way he knows how.

Clearly, there is mounting sexual tension between these two characters. But, since there is a lot of taboo wrapped up in their feelings, and this story is set in Victorian England, they dance around each other as if they are made of glass. Psychologically, that may not be far from the truth. Especially for Lawrence. His brother’s death has forced him to return to his childhood home that he has avoided his entire adult life. His chosen profession is as an actor, a career in which he literally pretends to be someone he is not. The ghosts of his past still haunt Talbot Hall. He’s attracted to Gwen, but he must be experiencing some level of guilt for having lustful thoughts about his brother’s fiancee. And, he is aware of the physical changes in his body. He is freaked out about the fact that all signs of his injury are gone. When Gwen administers first aid and they are only inches away from each other, he recognizes that his appetites have become heightened. His yearning to touch her is palpable, but he’s afraid he might do something to hurt her.


Does she really want me to tear off her clothes and fuck her on this table, or are the voices just messing with me?

Lawrence’s fears continue to mount. He knows something terrible is going to happen. He’s experiencing an increase in what Freud referred to as libido. He’s had sexual relationships with other women, so he isn’t afraid of touching Gwen. What has him concerned is the weird connection his brain is making between fucking, fighting, killing and eating. As the full moon rapidly approaches, Lawrence’s sense of propriety is quickly eroding away. The werewolf is about to emerge, and it terrifies him. Fortunately for Gwen, Lawrence truly cares for her well-being and sends her away before he or anyone else has the chance to harm her.


I’m sorry, but I can’t stop thinking about tearing open your throat to gulp down hot, coppery mouthfuls of your blood, and it’s making me insanely horny. Seriously, pack your shit and go.

Soon after, Lawrence goes through his first transformation. He basks in the light of the full moon in all his skin-flaying, tendon-ripping, face-biting werewolf glory. I mean, he tears the shit out of all those nosy neighbors and leaves a trail of carnage through the forest and onto the property of Talbot Hall. When he awakens with a murderous rage hangover, he has no memory of the atrocities he’s committed, but fortunately his father is there to get him up to speed and let him know that he’s done “terrible things.”


Maybe some coffee and a long hot shower will help…

Next stop, the asylum.

The Wolfman movie Benicio Del Toro (5)

Hydrotherapy: the waterboarding of the 19th century.

If this film were a history of mental illness in European cultures, it would fit perfectly with Freud’s theories of mental illness. However, it’s a horror film and we’re talking about literal monsters. In the world of The Wolfman, werewolves are real and when left to their own devices, they kill anyone who happens to be in their path of destruction. It doesn’t matter if you believe in them or not. They are a fact and a very real threat to modern living in 19th century England.


This is not a manifestation of a disturbed mind. This is a fucking werewolf.

Several characters refuse to accept the truth that werewolves exist, even when they are witnessing their manifestation. Unlike Peter Stumpp’s neighbors who wanted to believe that the Devil was at work, and supernatural forces made him kill and eat 14 children, science and logic are at the core of the accepted belief system in Victorian England. The doctors and staff at the asylum and Inspector Aberline refuse to believe that werewolves can exist in their world. That’s pure nonsense, crazy talk, tales of superstition shared among backward cultures. These men only believe in what they can see and quantify.

One of my favorite scenes in the film takes place in the asylum, when Lawrence is able to exact revenge on the people who tortured him. After Sir John Talbot visits Lawrence and finally tells him the truth about the night his mother died. The repressed memories are unleashed, and Lawrence relives that night in his mind. Everything he believed was true. Sometimes, having your beliefs confirmed isn’t a good thing. Lawrence’s father is much worse than he ever imagined. Not only is he the monster that killed Lawrence’s mother and brother, he’s also responsible for turning Lawrence into a werewolf.


Men of Science.

Lawrence is so overwhelmed by this information that his mind shuts down and he falls into a deep sleep. When he awakes, he finds himself strapped in a wheelchair by the orderlies of the asylum and prepped for a demonstration prepared for his doctor’s colleagues, the police, members of the press, and other community leaders to prove that werewolves don’t exist. He insists that Lawrence suffers from a mental illness, delusions that are related to the trauma he experienced as a child.


Caring more about the plight of his fellow humans than the asylum staff, Lawrence attempts to warn them that they are in danger. The moon is full and he will transform at any moment. When the doctor and Inspector Aberline finally see Lawrence’s transformation they are unable to completely process the facts before them, and they are momentarily crippled by their mind’s desire to shut down. The doctor meets a well-deserved violent end at the hands of the creature he refused to believe in.


Told you so.

Aberline is made of stronger mettle, because he forces himself into action to deal with the reality of a werewolf running amok on the streets of London. And I suppose you could consider him a hero of sorts in this tale, but I was too busy rooting for Lawrence to care.

After Lawrence kills most of the asylum staff and escapes from the mental institution, he whoops it up and kills a whole lot of people in London. Aberline is committed to stopping him, but soon realizes traditional methods won’t work.

The next morning when Lawrence wakes up hungover again, he has a better sense of his Fate. He knows he has to put an end to the curse. He has to return to Talbot Hall to avenge the deaths of his mother, his brother, and ultimately himself. But, before he resigns himself to an untimely death, he goes to the one place he knows he can hide, regroup, and find a little human compassion.


Holy shit, finally!

Yes, it’s true. I am a monster sympathizer. Judge me if you must, but Lawrence Talbot is an excellent example of a monster we feel sorry for and wish we could help. Fate has dealt him a terrible hand, and no matter what he does, his story will have a tragic end. Traumatized as a child, he witnessed the murder of his mother at the hands of his father, the true villain of this tale.

As an adult he seeks the love stolen from him when his mother died, but doesn’t find it until he meets Gwen. Even if Benicio Del Toro didn’t play Lawrence Talbot, I would still feel sorry for this character. However, I’m a sucker for a handsome man in Victorian garb, especially if he transforms into a tragic monster of myth and legends.


Seriously, werewolves are hot.

If by the end of this tale you don’t feel sorry for Lawrence Talbot, there is seriously something wrong with you. Yes, he’s a monster, but he did not choose his fate. And, all he ever wanted was to be loved and accepted. Who can’t relate to that? A life of hurt, betrayal, and tragedy is bound to end badly. Lawrence never had any hope of a happy ending.


Hot and tragic.

I waffled over talking about yet another version of Lawrence Talbot. I’m not going to talk about him extensively, but I think I should at least mention him in this post. For those of you who haven’t seen a single episode of the Showtime masterpiece, Penny Dreadful, SPOILER ALERT.

One of the main characters has a secret that we don’t find out about until the final episode of the first season. In hindsight, there were plenty of clues, but when all the pieces fell into place, it was a glorious revelation. Prior to this wonderful surprise, this character has a lot of other personality quirks that make him incredibly interesting, mysterious, but totally likable. If he chooses to befriend you, you have a reliable friend and ally. Unless you betray him.


Victorian clothing should totally make a come back.

Like I said, I’m not going to talk about him too extensively because I will probably write about him in another post. I’ve considered dedicating an entire post to the cast of Penny Dreadful. What I will say is this, when we’re first introduced to this character he’s working as a sharp shooter in traveling wild west show like Buffalo Bill Cody’s. I thought that was pretty cool considering that Penny Dreadful is like porn for people obsessed with Victorian literature and culture. And monsters. First and foremost, Victorian monsters.


Fuck yeah, werewolves!

Anyway, we are led to believe his name is Ethan Chandler all through season one and two. It’s not until near the end of the second season that we learn his true name. When I heard it spoken, I literally raised my hands over my mouth in a gesture of mock surprise with my mouth forming a perfect O. I felt pure delight. Actual giddiness. The revelation that the mysterious Victorian werewolf character, who I already adored, is actually one of my favorite werewolves was like an extra special treat. Think what you will, but stories about werewolves in Victorian England make me happy. And Lawrence Talbot’s story is one of my favorites. Penny Dreadful‘s take on the story is fascinating and fresh. And I love the fact that when Ethan/Lawrence is in his human form, there is no doubt that he is one of the good guys. His relationship with Vanessa is a complicated one, and their sexual tension is maddening.

Outwardly, they seem like a great couple. They trust each other, care deeply for one another, accept each other’s flaws, and let me tell you, their flaws aren’t things you could easily ignore. But hey, he’s a werewolf, and he’s trying to deal with the guilt of killing a whole bunch of people and yeah, eating them. And she is a witch coming into her true powers and, oh yeah, Lucifer wants to make her his bride. A relationship would be difficult at best, and sometimes when Vanessa has sex it brings out the demon in her. Literally. Like I said, the sexual tension between them is pretty intense. So much so that sometimes Ethan has to channel his energies elsewhere.


Chopping down trees keeps your mind off having sex with witches possessed by the Devil.


For those of you who have been following along with my series, “Fictional Characters I Would Totally Fuck,” this is the first installment of my now monthly blog series. If you haven’t been following along, back in February I challenged myself to write a blog post a day about some of my favorite fictional characters and why I think they are totally fuckable. That was no small task. Out of 29 days in February, I managed to write 21 posts. Still not too shabby if you ask me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this post and have a chance to read others. I’m having a great time writing them and look forward to your feedback.

Five Things I Learned While Writing a Daily Blog Series


  1. Sticking to a daily blog writing schedule is hard. Despite the fact that I had plenty of inspiration and was fully enjoying the subject of my blog series, there were days when I just couldn’t get a post written. Life intervened. Out of the 29 days of February (2016), I managed to write 21 blog posts. That’s not too shabby, so I’m not going to beat myself up about not reaching my goal of 29 posts. My real goal was to write more during the month of February, and I totally accomplished that.
  1. Writing about something I love makes me want to write more. I kind of already knew that about myself, but putting it into practice and sticking it with for a month was a great way to reinforce that belief. I did write more during the month of February. And I wrote more than just blog posts about the fictional characters I fantasize about. I edited my thesis novel and queried agents. I wrote a one- and two-page synopsis of my novel. I started drafting the sequel to my thesis. I played around with some new story ideas and revisited other pieces I had set aside. And, I started writing more fan fiction as a form of pre-writing to get my thoughts flowing and experiment with plot ideas and character relationships.
  1. Writing about a familiar topic can deepen your understanding of it. When I came up with the idea to write a blog series about fictional characters I’d totally fuck, I didn’t think there would be much substance to it. Initially, it was just a writing exercise for me to get back into the practice of writing each day, and to alleviate some boredom. But a few things happened that I didn’t expect. Yes, the topic is kind of silly, but it made me think about how these popular characters were constructed and why they have such an impact on our culture. People found the posts entertaining, and they generated discussion about the difference between loving a fictional character or being attracted to the actor who portrays them on screen. My conclusion is that sometimes you can’t separate the two, especially if only one actor has ever portrayed that character. I really enjoyed those discussions and appreciated the feedback I received about the posts. Thank you all for participating. I’ve decided to make this series a recurring monthly post, so stay tuned more fuckable fictional characters. I’ll be incorporating some suggestions I received from readers that I found challenging.
  1. Writing about taboo subjects made me reexamine my own sexual preferences and the psychological ramifications of those preferences. When you write about sex in an open forum, especially about what turns you on personally, it puts you out there for other people’s judgment. Early on, I decided that I wasn’t going to be doing a lot of self-editing in these posts. I was going to try to be as honest as possible when talking about why I found certain fictional characters, and the actors who portrayed them sexually attractive. As a woman of color I worried a little bit about what people would think about the fact that I chose only white males to write about. I worried that somehow I was going to offend someone for not including fictional characters of diverse ethnicity. I struggled with that a lot. But then I realized that I shouldn’t have to apologize for what I find attractive in a character or people in general. You love who you love, and it shouldn’t matter what wrapper they come in. I also worried about the fact that some of the characters (quite a few actually) are villains, monsters, serial killers, etc. who are supposed to inspire fear and hatred, not a desire to rip their clothes off. I took some risks writing these posts, but I’m not going to apologize for what I consider erotic.
  1. Writing about what I find erotic surprised me at times. I knew that I had a thing for villains, antiheroes and monsters, but I didn’t know how dark my taste in fictional characters, especially those I would totally fuck, went. Sure, I could easily use the excuse that I’m only talking about fictional characters, but the reality is my interest in these characters says something about the choices I’ve made when it comes to actual partners. I’m trying to gain a better understanding about my choices and myself after leaving a psychologically dangerous and damaging relationship last year. I don’t want to find myself in that situation again. I want what most healthy people want from a relationship: love, respect, support, encouragement, and a mutual understanding of how to make each other happy. Giving up my own happiness to meet the needs of a narcissist is no longer on my bucket list. It never was, but somehow I ended up hanging out with a borderline sociopath. There are quite a few sociopaths and psychopaths on my list of fuckable fictional characters. Will I stop loving these characters? Probably not. Will I think more deeply about what attracts me to them. Most definitely. Will I be more careful about who I allow to get close to me? Absolutely.

Fictional Characters I Would Totally Fuck – Part 21: Elijah Mikaelson

Remember how just a few short weeks ago when I started this blog series I couldn’t say enough nice things about Damon Salvatore? At the time I was a bit obsessed with him and was watching The Vampire Diaries (TVD) like a fiend. But there’s a new vampire occupying all of my daydreams right now, and he too started as a character on TVD. Now, I’ll admit that I always enjoyed his appearances in the series and looked forward to him coming back since he’s a scary vampire, an interesting character, and exceptionally easy on the eyes. Over the past two weeks I’ve been watching the first season of The Originals, which is the spinoff show that deals with the family of original vampires that first appeared on TVD.

If you know me, you know I love vampires. I love all kinds of vampires—scary ones, sexy ones, sociopathic ones, silly ones, sympathetic ones, but I try to avoid sparkly ones. In fact, of the 21 posts I wrote this month three have been about vampires. Like I said, I started this series with Damon, then I wrote about John Mitchell and Spike. I compare Francis Dolarhyde to a vampire, and even included a picture of Tom Hiddleston portraying a vampire in my post about Loki. In all likelihood I will be writing about vampires in future posts when this series becomes a monthly feature on my blog. The point is I like vampires. The fourth vampire in this series is without a doubt totally fuckable.

February 29: Elijah Mikaelson


Elijah Mikaelson is the eldest brother in the original vampire family. He made his first appearance on TVD as an antagonist who plays a part in the Katherine Pierce and Elena Gilbert doppelgänger story arc but over time he becomes an ally and a recurring protagonist. Elijah’s first appearance on screen is the first in a series of his elegant ass-kicking scenes. The fact that he remains completely calm and shows no emotion while explaining how he’s going to kill everyone in the room before they can even think to run, makes him one of the scariest vampires on TV.

As one of the first vampires, he is unable to be killed. He, his siblings and his father can only be killed using a stake made from a white ash tree that was also enchanted when the matriarch of the Mikaelson clan, a powerful witch, cast the spell to make her children and husband vampires. When someone becomes a vampire, the strongest part of his or her personality becomes amplified, and interestingly enough, Elijah’s strongest quality is morality. Of all of the legendary original vampires, he is known as the noble one.


He’s also wonderfully sarcastic and a bit of a smart ass. He enjoys tormenting others by pointing out their folly and the fact that if he decides to kill them they don’t have a chance in Hell to defend themselves.


He is very restrained, almost repressed in some ways, and prefers logic to overly emotional responses to bad situations, unless one of his siblings or another person he cares deeply for is in danger. Then, he simply ratchets up the violence without even raising his blood pressure. He is exceptionally fast and powerful, spooky intelligent, and has a knack for rescuing damsels in distress. Sentimentality could be considered one of his weaknesses, and despite the fact that you can rarely guess what’s going on in his mind, he is a passionate and caring individual, but don’t take his kindness for granted.


He cares about his appearance a great deal and wears stylish suits, designer men’s wear, and seems to almost never have a hair out of place. In fact, the only time he really gets dirty is when he’s saving someone from explosions and/or fires, is the victim of torture when someone manages to get the drop on him, and when he’s covered in blood – usually someone else’s.


I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure you call that a trophy.

He has blood on his hands a lot, because his favored method of killing is to reach inside someone’s chest to rip their heart out. It’s kind of his thing.

War ja wieder klar! Wer hat das Herz wieder in der Hand?


I mean, every other vampire gets pissed and the fangs come out. Not Elijah. He doesn’t run around willy nilly biting people. He’ll just snatch the heart out of your chest before you realize it’s even happening.


Shit is about to get real.

Elijah is a vampire who, no matter how violent he gets, manages to inspire empathy in the viewers. In the more than 1000 years that he’s been alive, he has spent most of that time looking after his siblings and trying to save his brother Klaus from himself. And, that’s a full-time job. He neglects his own happiness, denies his own desires, and conspires with and often against his siblings to make sure they don’t end up making the biggest mistakes of their lives, which they do on a nearly weekly basis.


Mocking Klaus for nearly 1000 years.

Although he is not as quick to fall in love as his sister Rebekah, he develops deep affection and admiration for a number of women in both series. Because he has a long history with Katherine Pierce, who he calls by her given name, Katerina, he is a constant in her life throughout their histories. Klaus had been seeking revenge against Katherine since the Renaissance, and I can’t help wonder if Elijah was one of the reasons Katherine was able to stay ahead of Klaus for so long.


I’m pretty sure he should wear leather pants more often.

When Elijah meets Elena, much like Stefan and Damon, he is a little awestruck by the fact that she looks exactly like Katherine. He conspires with Elena and the Salvatore brothers to keep Elena safe from Klaus, and in the process he becomes a bit infatuated with her.

Elena isn’t blind, and she definitely has a thing for vampires. She chooses to trust Elijah time and again, and even calls on him for help behind Stefan’s and Damon’s back. Would she be so willing to trust this cordial, yet ruthless killer if he wasn’t so attractive?


No but, seriously.

I have to admit that I was really hoping to see an Elijah and Elena scene where he kissed her. And then I got my wish. While pretending to be Katherine, Elena discovers that he has been having a secret affair with her doppelgänger, because he greets her like a lover and kisses her. I’m sure she told herself she was just staying in character as the kiss lingered, but I’m not buying it. She kissed him without thinking twice about it. And she liked it. Elijah didn’t seem to mind very much when he realized he was kissing Elena. Win-win.


He totally knows she isn’t Katherine and doesn’t care.

I got really excited when his appearances on TVD became more frequent, and when the spinoff was announced I was glad to know that Elijah wasn’t going anywhere. As his character continued to develop, he became more interesting. His sexiest quality is his confidence. Unlike his brother Klaus, he doesn’t feel the need to boast and brag about his accomplishments and power. He is the calm at the eye of the storm, but he’s also a highly skilled killing machine. He rarely feeds, and only takes human blood out of necessity to speed up healing when he’s been injured. If he does drink blood more often than that, then he does it in private, because he’s usually the one offering his blood to help others.


I mentioned the fact that in many ways he represses his own urges and desires. He has been in love, but it’s a rare occurrence. When he does find love, he falls hard and almost imprints on that person. Because many of his love affairs have ended in tragedy due to his constant involvement in Klaus’s life, he tries to avoid relationships.


Um, that’s your cue to tell him how you feel about him.

As you can imagine, there is a lot of sexual tension between him and the women he admires and desires. He holds back almost constantly, which I’m sure would drive some women completely insane. I can’t tell you how many scenes he has with female characters where you think at any moment he’s going to kiss them, almost does, then runs away using his vampire super speed. If I had to guess, I would say that in some sense he prefers the chase, and the continual denial of sexual release is actually a fetish. And there’s one scene in the first season of The Originals that we learn he has a taste for spanking his partners. I think I nearly fainted when he playfully suggested it to his lover, a black witch, in a flashback to the 1700’s. Another layer of the onion was revealed.


As much as I love his romantic scenes, his violence is like a beautiful dance of death.


I mean there is so much to like about this handsome monster.


Elijah’s wardrobe is Dr. Lecter approved.

His elegant hand gestures.


He uses those hands for spankings, too.

His love of old books.


May I sit on your lap while you read me a story?

The joy he finds in fatherhood.


I’d love to call him daddy.

And the pain he feels when he loses someone he loves.


If you aren’t watching The Originals or have never seen The Vampire Diaries, I recommend checking them out. The shows are supernatural soap operas on crack with all the eye candy your filthy little mind cares to feast upon.


Hot vampires in bondage is a recurring theme on these shows. Why aren’t you watching right now?

Fictional Characters I Would Totally Fuck- Part 20: Francis Dolarhyde

Last weekend I had an interesting conversation with one of my really good friends (don’t worry, Stephanie, those posts we talked about are coming, so stay tuned). We talked about a personality quirk (disorder?) that we share in common. The desire and attraction we feel toward all things that dwell in darkness. No one should have to make apologies for what they find attractive or erotic. We all fall somewhere on the spectrum of sexuality and desire, Honey. I’ll try not to judge you if you don’t judge me, unless you’re hurting people (physically, mentally, or emotionally) without their consent.

Darkness promises mystery, adventure, and fear, an unburdening of the perception that we must always remain on the straight and narrow, and yes, even pain. As counter-intuitive as it sounds, some folks just aren’t happy unless they’re unhappy. I know I’m not alone in this troubling and confusing state of being. I don’t like the fact that I continually seek out inappropriate relationships. At least I don’t climb into cars with strangers anymore. I’m trying to break myself of these self-defeating and potentially life-threatening habits. It’s a work in progress.

I like monsters. A lot. But I don’t want to date them in real life. That still won’t stop me from getting all hot and bothered for them. Vampires? Love ‘em. Werewolves? I’d hit that. Fallen angels? Do you have a few hours to talk over coffee or Bourbon? I’ll admit that my taste in fictional characters might be a little unsettling to some people, but once again, I’m not going to apologize for what turns me on.

February 25: Francis Dolarhyde


Francis Dolarhyde is a glorious monster. When you talk about Thomas Harris’s work—his novels, the films and TV show they have spawned—most people automatically think of Hannibal Lecter. Actually, most days I find it hard NOT to think about Hannibal Lecter. In the novel Red Dragon, Harris masterfully created a character who, in my opinion, is just as scary as Dr. Lecter. Without a doubt, the monster at the end of this book is the Red Dragon, Francis’ alter ego and the driving force behind his well planned, cleverly executed serial murders.


At first glance, I didn’t like him very much. Every slight, every dirty look, every unkind word gets tallied up by Francis, as if he’s some maladjusted, compulsive, vengeful bean counter and the rest of humanity are the beans. I hated when he spit on the woman in the convertible simply because his gaze made her uncomfortable, self-conscious. I hoped he wouldn’t end up being just another emotionally crippled misogynistic jerk.


Do you want WWIII? Because this is how we get WWIII.

Thankfully, as the story unfolded and I learned about Dolarhyde’s unbelievably traumatic childhood I became more interested. And, with every new horrible discovery about his past, I grew to love him more and more. I mean, come on, this serial killer has it all. He is physically deformed at birth, abused and abandoned by his mother and grandmother, sexually repressed, and a voice inside his head tells him to kill families that remind him of the family his mother formed without him. The family he was allowed to visit, but never welcomed to join. He is an outsider that many readers can relate to, and if not empathize with, at least feel some sympathy toward.

Hannibal - Season 3

He seemed like such a nice, quiet man.

Dolarhyde’s childhood was wonderfully atrocious, and Harris’s descriptions of his life in Grandma’s house reminded me of several dark Victorian classics. Dolarhyde’s two personalities made me think of Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, especially toward the end of the novel when Francis tries to stop the Dragon and form a relationship with his love interest, Reba. His two sides struggle for dominance as Francis tries to protect the woman he believes he loves. At other times I thought of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, with his physical deformities and inability to join “polite” society. Francis is filled with rage and envious of the “normal” people around him. He kills them to ease his pain and take revenge on the people who abused him. The Dragon is essentially the end result of Grandma’s psychological experiments on Francis that further transformed his already damaged psyche.

And then, we have Grandma’s dentures. Quite possibly one of the most disturbing images I have encountered in a novel, the dentures almost have a life of their own, which ramps up the body horror aspects of this tale. Grandma’s choppers allow us to venture down several literary paths. We could go Big Bad Wolf here, “oh Grandma, what big teeth you have.” Or we could take the Gothic Horror path since Dolarhyde makes a pretty convincing Dracula with false teeth filed into sharp points. He literally bites his female victims to death.

As I said, Francis Dolarhyde has a lot going for him as a character designed to make us check under the seats before turning the key in the ignition and double deadbolt the doors at night. Thomas Harris created an amazing killing machine that commits unspeakable acts and yet somehow convinced me to cheer for him when he fights against his murderous urges. I hoped he would escape capture at the hands of the FBI and Will Graham.


This is my design.

There are elements of romance in the novel. Apparently Thomas Harris believes that even serial killers deserve love. Or maybe he’s suggesting that if they received love in the first place they may not have chosen to murder people. Harris elicits even more sympathy for Francis when he meets a woman who is attracted to him. He reciprocates and they begin dating.


Lucifer offering Eve an apple.

Hannibal - Season 3

This is how a grown man reacts to being shown love for the first time.


He’s never seen anything more beautiful.

They are the perfect fairy tale couple, a blind princess (literally, not just too dumb or unwilling to see the truth) and her prince who is magically transformed into a dragon by an evil wicked witch. Bryan Fuller made all of my dreams come true with the intense  emotional and physical connection between Francis and Reba in season 3 of Hannibal. Their sex scenes were gloriously erotic. I must have rewatched the sex scene at least six times after I watched episode 10. So effing hot. Seriously, when he grabs her, picks her up, and carries her to his bedroom, I was like SPLOOSH!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I hoped Reba’s affection would be strong enough to rescue and redeem him in the end. His own delusions and lack of impulse control ultimately lead to his demise. Rather than trusting that Reba cares for him, he listens to the Dragon. His immaturity, lack of experience with live women, and delusions prevent him from achieving a normal and healthy life with Reba. Like most of us, our faults and bad habits tend to undo our efforts to improve ourselves no matter how hard we try to overcome them.


You should probably let someone get to know you a little better before you show them your dark side.

I don’t just like this monster. I am sexually attracted to him and find him totally fuckable. He’s fuckable in the novel and as portrayed by Ralph Finnes (Red Dragon, 2002) and Richard Armitage (Hannibal, 2015) (especially Richard Armitage), but the thoughts I have about him make me a bit uneasy. Why? As I said, I love monsters. I have no problem with the idea of liking Dracula or the Big Bad Wolf. Maybe my feelings of unease come from the fact that I know those monsters are fictional, make-believe, fairy tales, but serial killers are very real. While I’m fascinated by their crimes and their motivations to commit them, I do not idolize real serial killers. I want the police to catch them and punish them to the full extent of the law. Serial killers cause me to waffle about my stance on the death penalty.

Francis Dolarhyde is a fictional character, but Harris breathed so much life into him that he seemed disturbingly real. Serial killers are real. Dracula is not. Monsters that are created to represent the darker aspects of the human psyche or to examine and comment upon questionable societal norms are safe. The aging Goth teen queen inside me craves stories about monsters who prevail despite their physical deformities and emotional immaturity. Weird and horrifying is acceptable as long as it has a message or a purpose. But here is the Red Dragon standing before me, engrossed in his own gloriously terrifying acts of violence against women and their families, and somehow I find beauty there. My adoration of this character gives me pause.


Even his death is beautiful.

Typically, I would use the excuse of Hollywood’s knack for putting attractive actors in horrifying roles. The Devil is tempting not only because he encourages you to do the sinful things you crave, but also because he shows up as the thing you want most, and probably wearing a nice suit. Even before Bryan Fuller provided us with a visual buffet of horrific beauty on Hannibal, I desired Francis Dolarhyde.


Sometimes you can’t ignore the voices.

But Bryan Fuller cranked up the voyeurism, spectacle, and the eroticism of evil by making Francis exceptionally desirable and giving him an object of desire that I could relate to. I could imagine myself in her place. Eroticism is subjective, but when erotic images and art mirror your own fantasies, that’s not only psychologically satisfying, it’s magical.


They make a beautiful couple.

Fictional Characters I Would Totally Fuck – Part 19: Doctor Who

On Monday I wrote about my fondness for Mr. Spock while I was growing up, and mentioned that I was still waiting for a dark-haired stranger from far away to whisk me off on an adventure through outer space. Well, Mr. Spock isn’t the only alien welcome to share my heart and bed. The emotionally complicated Vulcan will always remind me to be proud of who I am and never allow anyone to tell me I’m less of a person simply because of my mixed ethnicity. Difference makes us interesting. Being different teaches us to be strong. Embracing our differences gives us the power to do anything we set our minds to. So, once again, thank you Mr. Spock for making me want to be a better human.

While I was watching Star Trek and daydreaming about joining Star Fleet Academy and smooching Mr. Spock, I was also watching public television and developing a life-long love of the BBC. I think I mentioned in one of my previous posts that I would sometimes pretend to be sick so I could get home early from school to catch a glimpse of another of my favorite aliens. An alien with a space ship that functions as a time machine. Or is it the other way around? Either way, it’s bigger on the inside and despite the fact that its chameleon circuit is broken, the TARDIS can still take you just about anywhere you wish to go in space and time.

February 24: Doctor Who


The Doctor cosplaying the Doctor.

I have a confession to make. I’ve been putting off writing this post because I’m worried that I’ll never be able to say all the things I want to say about this fan-fucking-tastic fictional character who has been a part of my life since I was a girl. When I was younger the only people who talked about Doctor Who were nerds and weirdos, and since they were usually male, they didn’t think I had anything to say on the subject of regenerating Time Lords with an unusual dress sense. So, for most of my life I was a closeted Doctor Who fan.


Guess what? I’m out of the closet. Fuck you, misogynistic losers. I’m here to talk about the Doctor!

Which Doctor? Well, you never forget your first Doctor, and mine was the fourth. Tom Baker traveled the universe from 1974 – 81. I loved him so much that I never really got attached to the actors who came after him, and pretty much ignored the sixth through eighth regenerations. Does that make me less of a Whovian? You can think whatever you like, but most fans of the show have their favorite(s) and don’t need to apologize about liking one over another. Until 2005, I loved only one Doctor.

Look at that face. Handsome, yet a bit goofy. Gorgeous curly hair. A big toothy grin. And those clothes are simultaneously scholarly and hedonistic. He kind of looks like an over-educated hobo.

As a kid he reminded me of a live-action cartoon character. He’s an adult with a unique skill-set and an unwillingness to grow up. And he wears many hats. He’s an astronaut. A time traveler. A scientist. A detective. A gentleman of education and leisure. An advocate for people’s rights, no matter what planet they live on. An anarchist. A trouble-maker. A charmer. A hero. A friend. And with each regeneration, his personality becomes a bit more complex and interesting.

In 2005, something wonderful happened. The BBC brought Doctor Who back to our living rooms, gave it a bigger budget, and made the character much darker than I ever remembered.


This Doctor is scary.

And his companions are pretty damn hot.


Hi. I’m Jack. Who’s up for a threesome?

Should the companion be sexier than the Doctor?

Rose is an interesting young woman in need of adventure. She’s bored with her daily routine. Even though she loves her mum and best friend Mickey, something is missing from her life. When she meets the Doctor it doesn’t take long to convince her to go traveling through space and time. Shortly after her adventures with the Doctor begin, she meets one of the most fuckable fictional characters of all time, Captain Jack Harkness.

Okay, I have to stop talking about Jack. For now.


The ninth Doctor had only one season before he regenerated. But in that short amount of time a lot happened, and some of my favorite episodes were created. The first Christmas episode of the 2005 reboot, “The Unquiet Dead”, features Charles Dickens and some very scary aliens. Nothing says Christmas like a good ghost story. It  is one of my all time favorite episodes, because it amplified the element of horror in an already well-established science fiction landscape. And I’ve always believed that science fiction and fantasy need a good dose of horror to make them even more compelling.


Number 9. Number 9. Number 9.

I really enjoyed watching the episodes with the ninth Doctor, but the fourth Doctor was still my favorite. And then came the tenth Doctor.

I already mentioned how I feel about David Tennant. It doesn’t matter how many times I watch the episodes he appears in, my heart always flutters when he appears on screen. He quickly became my favorite Doctor.


Rockabilly Doctor Who

Much like the fourth Doctor, he’s handsome and little goofy. His dress sense is a bit more respectable since he’s essentially wearing a skin-tight pinstripe suit that is reminiscent of something between Rockabilly and 1940’s Hollywood gangster. He’s funny, irreverent, intelligent in a way that makes you realize that he’s irritated if you aren’t keeping up, but also weirdly forgetful and scatter-brained. As always, he’s a hero, and he inherited the scariness of the ninth Doctor and takes it up a few notches.

And those glasses. I often make passes at Doctors who wear glasses. Instant sex appeal. What can I say, I like geeky science-obsessed types. You have to admit, he really is adorable. He sticks his tongue out when he’s concentrating really hard, and from time to time, he licks things to figure out what they are. Oh, and kissing. He likes kissing. A lot. It’s one of the few things that distracts him to the point of confusion.

When he isn’t making out with Earth women, he’s usually saving the universe.

Or flirting with famous playwrights.


Or possibly having a nerdgasm over a new kind of technology he’s never seen before.


When things get crazy, the best place to be is at his side.


But whatever you do, don’t piss him off.


Of course, if you’re a sassy bad-ass lady you can push his buttons to your heart’s delight.

The tenth Doctor has his fair share of companions. All of which are wonderful characters who compliment his eccentricities with just the right amount of love, friendship, and a willingness to trust a madman in a blue box.

And then there’s Donna Knoble.


Get in the box!

Speaking of gingers…


David Tennant manned the TARDIS from 2005-10, and when it was his turn to regenerate (um, the second time) I mourned the loss for nearly a year. I was so upset that I refused to watch any of the new episodes with his replacement.


But then one day a friend convinced me to give the new Doctor a chance.

The eleventh Doctor, Matt Smith, made me laugh and helped dry my tears. He was funny, but in different ways from David Tennant. The tenth Doctor was cool and sexy, but Matt Smith somehow managed to make geekiness sexy in a way that I never thought possible.


Befuddled, easily embarrassed, a bit narcissistic, and deeply loyal to the people he cares about, he makes all things uncool seem super cool.

Remember what I said about glasses? Yep. Men become instantly more attractive when they put on a pair of specs. Weird hats are cool too.

You know what else is cool? Just about everything this Doctor does. Like helping his artistic friends who suffer from crippling depression see the value of their creations.

But seriously, though.


I will never not cry while watching this scene.

Or the intimate relationship he has with his time machine that places us somewhere in the Uncanny Valley.


Anthropomorphic time machines create unsettling sexual tension for Time Lords.

Or the fact that he falls in love with and marries a psychotic archaeologist who happens to be the daughter of his companions in a weird wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey plot twist. SPOILERS, SWEETIE!


Fuck Nazis!

Best. Companion. EVAH!


Okay, these companions are pretty freaking fantastic, too.


Mum and Dad

Oh, alright. These companions aren’t too shabby either.

And don’t even get me started about Mark Sheppard.


Dr. River Song (Melody Pond) appears unexpectedly, but not randomly throughout the Doctor’s timeline, and is always full of surprises. Like when she meets the tenth Doctor.


Would kissing the tenth Doctor count as adultery?

But the eleventh Doctor is her Doctor.


On your wedding day, the greatest gift a bride can receive is the name of her groom.

And this. This. I can’t even. MORE SPOILERS, SWEETIE!


It’s true. I totally have the hots for the twelfth Doctor.

But before I start talking about the twelfth Doctor, let’s talk a little bit about one of my favorite days ever. “The Day of the Doctor.” Not one, not two, but three Doctors in one story line, and a glimpse at the Time War on Gallifrey. Shut the front door! We meet the War Doctor and witness his actions the day he stole the TARDIS. And, the legend begins. Or ends?

Back to the fact that the War Doctor is joined by ten and eleven in this feature-length episode I got to see in a MOVIE THEATER! It was like a mini Doctor Who convention, and I will cherish that memory forever. This episode was a love letter to fans all over the globe to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Doctor Who.

I have a lot of favorite scenes in this episode, but the tenth Doctor’s reaction to the new interior of the TARDIS is priceless.


His expression reminds me of something…


Ten and eleven showed off a bit more to remind us just how cool they are.

Oh, and then there was this thing that made everyone get a little choked up.



And even this guy showed up.


Let’s talk about this guy.

A lot of people were skeptical about Peter Capaldi’s ability to man the TARDIS, but this wasn’t his first time at the Doctor Who Rodeo.


I’m the fucking Doctor.

Some people were upset about the fact that he wasn’t as young as 10 and 11.


The thing about older men is that they used to be young men. If you’re lucky, they mature into handsome devils like this one.

Okay, perhaps he did seem a bit senile after his regeneration.

2 2

But all of the Doctors go through a period of confusion as they readjust to their new bodies and personality quirks.


Some are just a bit funnier than others.

Seriously, this Doctor is totally whacked out. But, as funny and cranky as he is, he also has some good insight and wisdom that comes with age. As an older Doctor, he’s still energetic and fun and interesting, but he’s a little darker. A little more jaded. And seems hesitant to grow too attached to people. He makes it clear that he is not like the eleventh Doctor. A fact that makes Clara a bit unhappy. Unsettled.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The twelfth Doctor is a bit more serious. He seems to be doing a lot of quiet reflection. At times he seems more alien than human as we’ve often come to perceive him.


Maybe he is old enough to be her father, but still sexy.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he observes people a bit more closely. He’s watching. Gathering data.


I love a man of science.

He’s more of an introvert.


Socializing is overrated.

The point is, I love this Doctor just as much as I’ve loved the others. Sometimes a bit more, because I know how the other personalities and experiences have shaped him. It’s appropriate for him to be an older man. After all the things he’s seen and felt, perhaps we need to listen to his wisdom and think about where we’re going in our own lives. Besides, as I get older, older men seem even more attractive now than they did when I was having inappropriate thoughts about them when I was still jailbait. Now there’s no harm in having inappropriate thoughts about them.


I’m speechless, too, River.

Loving a fictional character with many faces and personality quirks has been exciting and rewarding. I’ve learned that I don’t have one particular type when it comes to appearance, but no matter what face the Doctor is wearing (so far), I fall in love with him time and time again. It’s his values and beliefs and intelligence and heroism and dark sense of humor that make him so attractive. So positively fuckable. And while each of the five actors I’ve mentioned (six if you count the War Doctor) is uniquely attractive in his own way, it’s the character that makes me weak in the knees and giggle like a school girl and cry like a baby. Doctor Who has been setting the bar for me since I was in elementary school. If I’m lucky, some day, I’ll meet a man half as amazing as he is. He doesn’t even need to own a TARDIS. But it would help if he had a sonic screwdriver and maybe a nice suit.

Fetishism, Sweetie.