more info on queer sci-fi horror story?
From this WIP ask and tag game
Ooh, this is a fun one! So, I haven't done any writing-writing for it - just major outlining and vibes! Main vibes are about dysphoria - specifically dysphoria induced by your body (and by proxy, your entire self) not fitting the One Archetype society has deemed you must fit, and how taxing it is to try and squeeze and shave and pluck yourself to make yourself fit. There are still some things I want to change and edit - mainly making more visible the underground counterculture to the main society somehow - but this is what I've got!
I have this idea where our Main Character (MC) lives on a planet where One Size Fits All (and they don't fit the One Size that Fits All). The most important thing that's One Size Fits All is the spacesuit. See, on this planet, everyone believes that if they were to expose themselves to the outside air, they would become monsters and die horrifically. And they know it happens, because it's happened to their cousin's friend's neighbor, or their teacher's aunt's coworker, or what have you. Everyone knows someone who knows someone who knows someone this has happened to. And it typically happens to those who don't fit the One Size that Fits All.
So MC tries to alter themself to fit the One Size that Fits All. They shave and pluck and do questionable diets and force themself to do specific exercises that aren't modified for their own body and level of fitness. They put themself on a waitlist for surgery to make them taller and thinner. They buy lottery tickets to get The Big Expensive Operation that would finally shape them perfectly into the One Size that Fits All.
When their hair grows too coarse for a razor or wax, they do laser hair removal. It still grows back, thicker than before.
When horns grow from their forehead, they are instructed to freeze the horns like you would freeze a wart, and then shave the horns from their head, with painful specialized equipment that they have to pay for from the doctor's office.
When wings grow from their back, they have to pay for the surgery to remove them.
Eventually, they stop going to the doctor's office. They stay inside and let themself just exist for a little while. Their roommates, who aren't quite One Size Fits All but aren't growing wings or horns or coarse hair, are afraid of them and afraid for them.
The roommates force them to try venturing outside once more - just a mental health walk, maybe a doctor's visit if they can manage it - anything to get them out of the house for a bit. (Anything to make it so they don't have to call the Sweepers, who deal with monsters like this). The One Size Fits All spacesuit stretches over them, barely able to contain what they are.
When they're able to get past the airlock and get outside, they look up at the sky - and the spacesuit finally rips at their horns.
But they don't turn into a raging monster or die horribly. They smell sweet, unfiltered, unsterilized air for the first time. They look up through the rips int he suit and see that the sky is colorful and beautiful.
Why was this hidden from them? Why hadn't they been allowed to experience this? Is this what they'd been missing all those years of trying to pluck and shave and freeze and cut and shape themself into the One Size that Fits All?
They tear themself from the spacesuit, like ripping apart an ill-fitting second skin. They stretch their wings and scream at the sweet, painful release. And as the Sweepers flood the neighborhood and take aim, they take flight. And they have never been more free.
