#a square will be like i am so aware of the fact that the circles have lied to me i am so smart and then spout more propaganda

[irregularbillcipher]

The best example of how Flatland is a piece of fiction where A Square, the author, literally does not know what the hell he's talking about half the time is all the stuff about the Universal Color Bill, because as it is presented the segment on the Color Bill is one of the most biased and propaganda filled things I've ever seen spouted from a narrator who claims he Knows What's Up with the world he lives in.

Like ooooh, gee, so the only reason the Universal Color Bill got so widespread was because a Mean Traitorous Circle with an Irregularity that he should have been killed for but wasn't due to Circumstances that nobody actually knows or remembers (but in A's opinion was definitely pity because we all know how CHARITABLE the Circles are) came up with it, and used his tricky cunning Irregularity mind powers to make the Bill so foolproof and amazing that if it had gone through it would have toppled all of society and allowed all the icky women and disableds and lower classes to have something close to equal rights.

(And it had to have been an Irregular Circle because yes the Irregular Circle is also icky and cunning but at least he's a Circle and any Isosceles would have simply been too brain dead to have come up with such an evil cunning Bill and THIS is why eugenics are good, so those mean old disabled people that we allow to live don't stab us in the back for our charity.)

And wow, you're really telling me that right when the more upper-class women of Flatland, those who care about their standing and who are most supportive of eugenics because of the privilege they're afforded by their marriages and lineages, started to agree that this society-destroying Color Bill was a good idea, (because it would actually give them a bit of respect, authority and safety if they were regarded as being as precious as their husbands,) the Circles just happened to hear about this poor orphaned daughter of a Polygon who was accosted by a very very real and scary and uncouth lower class Shape and tricked so thoroughly into believing he was a higher class Shape by employing the very evil colors that these poor Lines were starting to come around to?

(Not to mention that even in the story itself the Isosceles is framed as both a vile, duplicitous mastermind tricking a poor innocent upper-class girl into marrying him, but also an idiot who "accidentally" dabbled in paints from a Tradesman he'd definitely just robbed, and either painted himself or coincidentally "caused himself to be painted" with the exact same color pattern as a Dodecagon. Because for this story to work, he has to be an absolute monstrous brute, an Isosceles of the "low sort" with hardly any brains, while also being cunning, clever and cruel enough to pull off a marriage ruse and take advantage of a poor orphaned maiden. Stupid enough to be looked down upon but smart enough to come up with this plan like the perfect boogeyman.)

And man, it sure is unfortunate that this marriage, which A Square admits only happened because of a wild amount of near impossible accidents and an "almost inconceivable" lack of research on the part of the bride's remaining family, in a society where lineage is checked thoroughly before marriage, just happened to be consummated despite all the odds being stacked against it. Did he pretend to be a member of a high ranking family? Did he make up a name and family history? If nobody can decide if he even painted himself on purpose, I doubt him creating a whole persona convincing enough to fool the daughter of a Polygon and any family members would be part of the story... that would frame him as far too intelligent for an Isosceles with a brain of four degrees, and we can't have anyone thinking that sort is intelligent.

So then are we to believe that the daughter and her remaining family were stupid enough to just accept a supposed Dodecagon with no family ties or history? That seems unlikely. With no family history, his sides may not even matter-- maybe he has an Irregularity in his line. Maybe he was disowned for failing his Sight Recognition exam. No respectable girl in her right mind would marry a Dodecagon with no family history! And it's so, so convenient that this woman, who already knew this Isosceles, because he had already tried to court her in the past, never recognized him once throughout their new courtship, until the marriage was consummated.

And it's so convenient for the Circles that her reaction upon discovering what was very clearly a near astronomical feat of deception was to kill herself, in a society where we already know the Circles are really cool with killing its citizens if it helps to maintain the status quo. But there really isn't anything suspicious about that, of course, because the only way that a daughter of a Polygon would ever wed a lowly Isosceles is if she were tricked into it, even if the process of being tricked was so lengthy and complex that it would be near impossible for anyone to pull off without either the bride or the bride's family being in on the deception, and the only reaction any decent girl would have upon realizing she'd been tricked would be suicide.

And the fact that she was orphaned and this man apparently tried to court her in "former days." So how former? And who was the one rejecting the marriages? How did she feel about this attempted courtship in "former days?" As a daughter of a Polygon, she surely had no say in who she married, so her opinions on this man are completely up in the air, and the idea that she would at no point during this new proposal, recognize this man who had tried to seek her affections before is... implausible, I would say. What the Circles would want you to think, of course, is that the Isosceles tried again once she was orphaned because she was vulnerable then. That's possible, of course, but got necessarily the given that it would seem like.

But the idea that a Line and an Isosceles may have come up with a plot using color to be allowed to be married despite their class differences is Absurd, of course! They're too stupid for that! And that the Circles may have picked up on what had happened and taken the woman out of the picture and then twisted the story to suit their needs is preposterous, of course, just ignore how often they twist history and kill citizens to keep the status quo. The fact that this specific version of the story is the exact type of thing that would tug at the heartstrings of upper-class women who love eugenics and classism and their own nebulous purity more than they actually love themselves, enough to literally militarize a great number of the more reactionary ladies? A coincidence, I'm sure, but one that was oh so good for crushing the Color Bill and using those scared, privileged women to help murder Chromatistes and the rest of the rebels in a political set up.

... And of course, all those holes in the story, all that propaganda even assumes it was a real story to begin with. Because it very well may be completely fabricated.

Before telling the story, A Square straight up admits that this is the perfect type of story for someone in power to make up to scare a portion of the populace, but he absolutely refuses to actually, legitimately entertain the prospect. Instead, he just barrels ahead and tells the story of the Evil, Cunning Irregular Circle, and the Poor Orphaned Polygonal Maiden and the Brutish, Tricky Isosceles and how that Completely True and Real Tragic occurrence definitely, positively happened, and also definitely happened exactly the way all the Circles said it did. The fact that this is all completely absurd and reads like literal propaganda and was literally used as propaganda to scare upper-class women into falling back in line does not matter to A, because this was the story he was told and he Understands The World He Lives In, and the Circles are always right except for the whole Third Dimension thing.

TL;DR: A Square is a stoodge who will fall for anything the Circles tell him, no matter how absurd, and every single thing he says that is not him literally laying out laws should be taken with ten bowls of salt, because he has no critical thinking skills.

[saintsenara]

What I really struggle with in HP is JKR's shallow neoliberal world-building, and how it forces characters to navigate it quite awkwardly. As a big fan of the werewolf lore, I hate what she did there. I want to accept some of the self hatred and oversimplification of the society as complexities of the characters, but some of it also just feels like bad writing. Of course I am a bit of a Lupin stan and I'll do some gymnastics to try to make him a better man/werewolf than he'd ever be (I like to picture him as kind of a Union rep), but I don't know, I just really feel like canon is lacking. Am I just not a great reader?

no, i don't think you're a bad reader, anon.

when it comes to worldbuilding, jkr is certainly no tolkien - a lot of the inconsistencies in canon [i.e. why dumbledore flies to the ministry in philosopher's stone] come from her not having the world fully mapped out prior to writing, and, while this isn't as much of an issue as the fandom makes out [lots of authors adapt their worldbuilding as they go along!], it's definitely exacerbated by the fact that she has a tendency to claim certain inconsistencies were intentional.

the series' politics are also clearly incredibly neoliberal. and part of this [such as the fact that the order is defending the "sensible" status quo] is obviously a bleed-through from jkr's worldview, and i think it's legitimate to acknowledge and criticise that and how it manifests itself in the doylist text.

nonetheless, i think it is worth saying that the fandom has a tendency to criticise aspects of the text which ought instead to be understood as intentional spaces we can devote our energy to filling in. the genre conventions of the series require it to become an uncomplicated good-versus-evil trajectory which ends with all being well - and i do think that, when we're criticising jkr's writing, it's important to acknowledge that the ending of the series feels unsatisfactory because it does these conventions properly, rather than in spite of that fact. similarly, the reason that apparently key aspects of wizarding society [law, politics, etc.] don't get discussed in detail is because they're not the series' focus - i've mentioned elsewhere that i'm obsessed with the concept of wizarding medicine, and that i find the way this is presented in the series really shallow, but i recognise that this is because medicine isn't something the series wants to focus on. order of the phoenix is too long as it is - we don't need 200 more pages of detailed descriptions of how healers learn their craft...

and so i think it's fun for us to work in our own writing to make the worldbuilding feel a bit more cohesive.

the easiest way i've found to square this circle with the watsonian text is to recognise that harry is a partial narrator. he's someone with an incredibly self-serving, black-and-white moral code; he's incredibly privileged within wizarding society and comparatively privileged within muggle society [by which i don't mean that he isn't neglected by the dursleys, but he's also canonically white, able-bodied, cisgender, a native english speaker, well-educated, raised in a middle-class household and so on] and, therefore, never has to actually think about the politics and structure of wizarding society; and he's also a teenage boy, which explains him not being particularly observant or politically aware.

[the best example of this is, of course, that he doesn't give a shit about sirius' treatment of kreacher - because he likes sirius - and he doesn't consider his own mastery over kreacher to be a moral abomination - because he's shown to not really understand the broader social impact of slavery - but he detests the malfoys' treatment of dobby entirely and only because he dislikes the malfoys.]

his attitude towards lupin - and his attitude towards werewolves more generally - can be made sense of through this, i think. harry doesn't care about the broader state-sanctioned oppression of werewolves because it doesn't impact him, he cares about lupin's experience because it does; harry doesn't notice the imperialist overtones to lupin's self-presentation [that is, that he bears "the unmistakable signs of having tried to live among wizards"] and considers lupin's embrace of "civilisation" to be a good thing [in comparison to werewolves like greyback, who reject it] because it's what he personally considers legitimate; harry focuses on specific aspects of lupin's character because he's not a omniscient perspective - he's a [canonically short-sighted] teenage boy.

[ramenrescue]

do you any headcanons/aus/thoughts on usao/ousa ? loved your analysis of ogata/asirpa

Oh boy, I might have too many thoughts about Usami and Ogata so this may have to come in parts, especially the AUs. I have started writing a modern day reincarnation fic for them because I am just very feral about these two at the moment, so if I ever finish that and feel compelled to put it out to the world I'll let you know. The thing about writing fic or manga is like -- I can write little snippets but to piece them together into one coherent story is very difficult.

Anyway, your ask came at such a prompt time because I managed to buy the Japanese volumes on Bookwalker for almost 50% off and I specifically reread the main parts with Usami, so they are quite fresh in my mind. I think I agree with other analyses I have read about Usami in that he is a direct foil to Ogata. And this can be seen in their superficial traits: Ogata has many square-shaped, angular, sharp motifs on his face, like his square-shaped eyes, square shaped iris, squared eyebrows, square jawline, square hairline, while Usami has rounded tips on his eyelashes, round moles on his cheeks, rounded lips (cupid's bow), concentric circles for his pupil/iris, and rounded brows. Usami excels at close-range combat, while Ogata excels at long-range combat. Usami grew up amongst a large family with many siblings, while Ogata grew up practically an only child.

But here's the weird part -- I actually don't think they are complete opposites -- I think they have some things in common. <- more on this later.

It is interesting how in Usami's backstory (Chapter 227), Tsurumi (in conversation with the dojo owner) refers to Usami as a "dog among sheep" and a "born soldier who is highly loyal, combative, and is able to kill without remorse or regret". Then, it cuts to Usami in present day saying he predicts the serial killer in Sapporo will return to the scene of the crime and masturbate while reminiscing of their crimes because he understands that sentiment on a personal level. Usami here appears to show understanding that he possesses an innate capacity for violence.

Ogata was always wondering about the whole nature vs nurture question -- like whether lacking remorse for the act of killing is something one is born with or a product of one's environment (ex. bad childhood, war). Usami is a shining example that humans can in fact kill without remorse, and everyone except Ogata knows Usami is an exception to the rule. Usami is well aware this is what makes him special and this is one of the reasons why Tsurumi values him so much as a subordinate.

The problem with Ogata is that because he appears to have very little personal connections outside of Usami during the war (which is... kind of cute in a pitiable way?), he misconstrues that people like Usami are the majority. Usami agrees with all of Ogata's skewed interpretations and analyses that "all (majority of) people do not feel remorse in the act of killing" and in doing that, he is straight up lying. Usami knows people like himself are in the minority -- and because his analysis of Ogata's character was so spot on -- I'll go as far to say Usami knows Ogata is "normal" -- because if Ogata were truly a "born soldier" like Usami, he would not be ruminating about the philosophy of guilt and killing and questioning himself and bouncing his ideas off of another person -- he would just simply, be. Usami receives further confirmation that Ogata is simply, "just a guy", when he overhears Ogata calling Yusaku's name in his sleep. Usami also calls Ogata a snot-nosed brat quite a number of times, and I think that is alluding to Usami knowing that Ogata is just a sheep wearing wolf's skin.

It's interesting that Ogata entrusted the inner workings of his mind to Usami. I thought about this and I came to the conclusion that maybe he saw his own mother in Usami -- which I know, it's kind of insane, but I'm going somewhere with this! In Chapter 304, when Ogata is reminiscing about his mother, it appears she has a prominent cupid's bow -- a physical characteristic possessed by Usami. His mother likely called Ogata by his first name, and Usami is shown to be THE only person in present day who calls Ogata by his first name. Ogata's mom was head over heels over a man in a position of power with a wife who never returned the same level of love, while Usami is head over heels over a "promiscuous" man in a position of power who will likely never return the same level of affection that he's outputting. Another interesting side note: Usami chides Ogata for being the illegitimate son of an escort* and back in the Edo period, women in the business would chop off their pinkie as a sign of loyalty to their patron. Although Ogata likely did not have a good vantage point (nor did he care) to observe Usami's final moments, I think it's still worth mentioning that Usami getting his pinkie chomped off by Tsurumi resembles an escort chopping off her finger as a sign of ultimate devotion to her customer, lol. Anyway, I think because Ogata drew parallels between Yusaku and Asirpa, it is not so far fetched that he saw his mother in Usami -- and ultimately his projection made him trust Usami more than one ever should. There is one more important evidence that Ogata saw his mother in Usami -- in that he killed both of them with similar intent. He killed his mom not out of hatred, but because he wanted to put her out of her misery -- and he thought that if his father came to her funeral, she would be happy. Before he shoots Usami, he says something like "if you're so worried about being Tsurumi's cheapest pawn, why don't you see what his face looks like at your funeral," and in a way, he is putting Usami out of his miserable state of feeling inadequate. Ogata killed his mother with conviction that the positive outcome would happen, while he kills Usami with more of a neutral outlook -- and interestingly, Ogata, by killing Usami, gave Usami the thing he wanted most in life -- a reaffirmation from Tsurumi that he was his one and only (which, whether Tsurumi was telling the truth or not is dubious from a reader's POV, but alas, we are happy for Usami).

So here we return to my earlier point -- that they are crafted to be very different from each other, but they do possess similarities. One obvious one is that they both yearn for affection from Tsurumi -- which highlights another difference in that, yes they both yearn for love, but the love they seek are different. Usami yearns for love from one person and one person only, while Ogata is more agnostic and yearns for love from pretty much anyone who is willing to give him attention. But here's the thing -- I think Ogata's yearning for affection is a product of his environment -- and I think Usami's yearning to be someone's one and only, is also a product of his environment! I think that because he grew up in a large family, the love from his parents was dispersed amongst all of their children***, fostering an environment ripe for someone like Tsurumi to sweep him off his feet and pour "love" into this near-empty vessel. Usami felt intoxicated by the notion of being someone's one and only, that his jealousy-filled-rage led him to murder. I'd argue that without the addition of Tsurumi, there would be no Usami. Tsurumi compared Usami not to a wolf or a bear -- but a domesticated dog -- which is not, by itself, likely to commit acts of violence**. A soldier becomes a soldier only when commanded -- STEERED in the right direction, much like a dog will become violent when raised to do so. Therefore, a version of Usami who never met a sweet-talker like Tsurumi in his formative years, would likely not grow up to be an ultra-loyal killing-machine. To sum, I believe Usami's capacity for violence is an innate quality that can only be harnessed by the right environment.

Thank you for the question! One thing I still haven't quite wrapped my mind around is how after Ogata shoots Usami, he says "thank you, Usami, your death has completed me as a sniper." Okay??? What does he mean by that! I don't know! So if you or anyone reading this has any thoughts I'd love to know!

--

*=note that 商売女can include prostitutes and geisha, and the lines between geisha and prostitution was a lot blurrier back then so I'm just calling them an "escort" although Ogata's mom is officially known to be a former geisha

**=note that this is a sweeping generalization and I am aware different dog breeds do display varying levels of unpredictable, aggressive behavior

***=I just want to point out that Usami's parents are portrayed as being in love with each other, so they may have had that many kids as a result of lack of contraception. There's a scene in Vagabond with a couple who are having sex despite their many children crying out of hunger, and it kind of reminds me of that...

[consul-valerius]

Show Me What Normal is for You

Donna’s voice trailed off, their eyes widening as they spoke. They glanced up at Valerius, seeking some sort of validation, some sort of recognization. They silently hoped he would be normal; neither upset nor happy. Just… normal.

An evening of drinking and story-weaving leads Vesuvia's most dysfunctional polycule into a discussion of the divine (which leads to discussions of the past and perhaps the present too). However, not everyone involved is as intrigued when a certain Arcana is mentioned. It is up to Valerius to encourage his lover to open up to him in a way they haven't: to tell the full truth of their murky upbringing.

Rating: T for discussions of past abuse & darker themes

WC: 7,401 split between two chapters

Characters & Relationships: Valerius, Donna, Nadia (all in their own traid lol) & Sam and Lucio

Content warnings: discussions of past childhood abuse, discussions of attempted infanticide, childhood trauma, negative self talk/self thinking (most of this appears exclusively in the second chapter), casual discussions of death, mentioned parental death, and very casual daddy dom language because Sam and Lucio are there lmao

A/N: after years.... i have finally sat down and made Donna actually talk about their childhood/upbringing lmao this is a pretty personal fic for me for a variety of reasons, and it's one that I'm fairly proud of but also deeply insecure about all the same LOL again, very dialogue heavy and introspective; please heed all content warnings!

First chapter preview undercut, with links to both chapters there as well! if darker themes aren't your jam, you can just avoid the second chapter and know there's a lot of hurt but also a lot of gay comfort lmfao

Part One // Part Two

“What do you mean by that?” Nadia asked. Gods, it was becoming grating to Sam how endearing she was behaving. 

“Well, let’s use the cards as an example. Anyone can read the cards. I know their assigned meanings, and if you paid me, I would do a card reading for you and may actually sell you on my sincerity. But that’s all it is: storytelling. I can twist any general reading to be specific toward you if you told me enough about yourself—that is why there are so many con artists when it comes to this. If you can tell a tale, you can read the cards. 

Donna, however, actually can hear the Arcane and interpret their messages. That isn't exactly standard practice, and certainly not one I can do anymore.”

“Any more?” Lucio prodded, snuggling closer. 

“I used to have… some connection to my patron, yes.” Sam paused to glance down at the hand Lucio was playing with; he seemed to be reflecting on what to say next. His shoulders straightened out before he sighed. “But she severed that tie long ago. It was my own doing, of course. The Arcana do not take kindly to those who break from their paths, and they especially do not enjoy feeling replaced by some mortal being.”

“Huh—"

“They can do that?” Nadia cut in, a sudden and uncommon anxiety now in her tone. “Break off a connection, that is.”

A bitter smile graced Sam’s features; he regarded Nadia up and down for a moment before nodding. 

“In my case, yes. Though perhaps it was for the best; breaking that tie broke off all of my connection to the arcane realms. I am much better at judging and denying earthly temptations than I would be magical.”

“Magical temptations? Like what, fairy circles or what have you?” Valerius piped up again, his focus now squarely on Donna’s hair. He thankfully did not seem aware of Sam’s giggle at his question. 

“Well, no, silly boy,” Sam sighed as Lucio snickered. “I mean much more divine intervention.”

“Do the Arcana… meddle in earthly affairs?” Nadia reclined further into her seat, getting more comfortable. 

“Obviously they do,” Sam said, mirroring her posture. “The fact that they choose humans to take under their wing says enough. But most patrons know not to directly interfere with this world; many will only tend to their flock in dreams or drug-induced stupors; whenever the veil is at its most thin or what have you.”

“And you are implying there are those who do more, are you not?”

“Well, yes.”

“Do you know which ones specifically—“

“The Devil.”

All eyes quickly snapped down to Donna. Their head was down, their shoulders hunched, and their fingers dug into their knees. Nadia tilted her head as she pushed forward slightly in her seat, readying herself to dart to the floor if need be. It seemed as if Sam was going to do the same, but he was stopped by Lucio grabbing his hand with a bruising grip.

“The Devil…?” Valerius prodded, the only one not fully aware of the tone shift. 

“The Devil represents an excess of indulgences,” Sam cut in, trying to keep his tone neutral while trying to focus his attention between Lucio and Donna. “Out of all of the arcana, it makes the most sense that He would be most interested in earthly affairs and getting entangled in them; to want more than the vast expanses of magical realms he can control is in line with what he represents. He is the one patron to meddle in the affairs of others, regardless of who their patron is, to a normally… detrimental effect.”

“Detrimental?” Nadia pushed, her own curiosity outweighing her concern momentarily. 

Sam shot Donna a concerned look, his lips sealing into a thin line. They slowly lifted their head, the pink in their hair gone and back to its normal blue. 

They only shrugged up at him, a small smile on their face. 

“Well…” Sam finally continued, pulling Lucio closer to him by the waist. “In my life, and in the type of work I used to do, I’ve seen people get… desperate . Desperate for a variety of things: money, power, friends, family, the love those people can give to you—we traversed in dark places, and it can lead to ravenous desires. I was lucky to have not just been disconnected from the magical realms but to have a mentor who knew too well the horrors that lurk there. 

Others do not. Even the faintest whispers of the divine can twist the noblest of people. And this world is often cruel and unforgiving: to be offered a lifeline, to be offered some notion of control, is sometimes far too captivating to ignore.”

“You’re speaking in riddles,” Valerius interjected, now annoyed. “Speak plainly.”

“The drunkard says to the master,” Sam finally laughed, though there was little joy there. Lucio and Donna had both, shockingly, fallen silent, neither quite looking at anything or anyone. “What I mean is that it is easy for The Devil to tempt and offer solutions . I once knew a woman—a good, strong woman, I might add—who lost her entire family to a group of highwaymen. A senseless tragedy that falls on many—she is not unique, and neither are the effects of grief. She sought out my mentor for guidance, but your fellow human can only do so much for you. She was desperate for answers and for justice, and this world marches to the beat of its own drum. It was just taking too damn long. 

So who better to come in than The Devil himself? Or what she thought was him. In exchange for something trivial, he can give you a name, a place they live, and even their weaknesses. But even more than that—what of power, what of strength? If you are to face your family’s slayers, should you not be prepared to dish out justice? She made deal after deal behind our backs, each one more complicated, each price growing steeper and steeper. By the time I or anyone had noticed a change, it was far too late. The Devil’s chains are… unbreakable. And the damage they do is far more than anyone can help.” 

A long, heavy silence filled up the space like a thick smog. Nadia averted her eyes entirely, lost in her own thoughts, unsure what question to ask next. Valerius sat up straighter, his hands still petting through Donna’s hair. He could not see their expression from where he was sitting. He could only see how Lucio glanced back to the doorway as if he was worried someone was there. Valerius couldn’t help but think the same thing. 

“But why go through that only to be… well.. ruined?” He asked without thinking. Sam only smiled sadly at him. 

“You are so lucky, my dear boy, to have never been in want of anything.” Sam patted Lucio’s hip as he spoke, soothing him absently as he regarded Valerius. “And I hope you never experience it—truly, I do. Anyone may fall victim to this—it is our nature, after all, to seek out temptations with no regard for ourselves or others. That is the essence of the card; it is neither good nor evil: The Devil just exists as a paradigm of our makeup. He cannot help himself to crave more from this world, and we, in turn, cannot help but be tempted by him. It is up to the person on what they choose to do or not do, on the vile acts they may commit, and on giving up everything to gain their single want. Had I any line of communication left, I am not so sure I would be here—“

“ Gods , this is grim!”

[growingwithem]

The kpop fan community is very fake. Obviously I won't put everyone in the same bag because I'm not that kind of person, but it hasn't even been a week of talking about how words and mass hate on the internet can affect our idols for those same people to celebrate Dayoung's comment towards Shindong because he supposedly "deserves it" and it is "an eye for an eye". Context here.

Shindong has been criticized, judged and labeled as macho and fatphobic for a comment that went out of context 10 years ago. The situation was this: A radio listener told him that she wanted to lose weight to look pretty for her boyfriend and he didn't agree. The phrase 'I am a man and you are a woman' that is attributed to Shindong is without context. He was debating how macho the girl's boyfriend was and what would happen if it was the other way around, then Shindong says: 'he could say I'm a man and you're a woman' thus showing a normalized macho thought in our society. He said that he would support his girlfriend's decision if it were the other way around, but he also mentioned that "If you'll be happier starting a diet do it, but only for yourself, not for someone else" That was it. He also wrote an apology on Twitter and mentioned that he would be more careful next time. But still many antis are not satisfied with that and they keep pointing him out for what he has done, does or does not do. To this day, many kpop fans take as fact and reality what some Twitter and TikTok accounts say about how "bad" Super Junior is. They have been in the kpop industry for over 18 years so I wouldn't be surprised if at some point they have made some ignorant comment because all of us have grown up with dysfunctional and toxic beliefs that over the years we have had to unlearn. And if you think that this is not real and is not valid, then I tell you that you will have to carry a huge guilt throughout your life that will make you unhappy.

Society is not the same as 10 years ago because we all evolve and change, it is part of the course of life and it is a reflection that we will not stay with a square mentality if it is not convenient for us and different vulnerable sectors who suffer different kinds of hatred, discrimination and rejection. And for that same reason, I do not label Dayoung as a bad person or fatphobic, because I do believe that it is valid that our mistakes do not label us and that we have the opportunity to grow and improve every day. She is young and just starting out in the world of kpop (and hopefully for her and her fans for many more years). The point of reflection here is about the fans and their malicious comments on the internet. I know we are all aware of what the community is like on twitter and tiktok (since many of us have moved from there to create a healthier community here on tumblr) but it never ceases to amaze me how lost many kpop fans are. Do you complain that the kpop industry is difficult and harmful? Ask yourself who consume it and what they demand. Everything is a vicious circle of supply and demand. If you really want to make the kpop industry healthier go to yourself and ask yourself what are you doing to make it better. Industries move and accommodate based on what the public prefers. If you continue to spread hate based on stereotypes, misinformation, ignorance and double standards, then you will continue to feed dehumanization in that industry that you want so badly to change. Please don't minimize the power of being kind and the ability to see life in a more nuanced way than just "bad" and "good." Believe me that by doing so you make a big change.

[h0bbs-a]

𝚃𝚆𝙾:   𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙶𝚁𝙰𝙷𝙰𝙼,   𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝚄𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙰𝙽.

he visits her in the hospital,   &   maybe he thinks he's doing the right thing,   in fact she's sure that's what he thinks.   she pities him,   but even worse than that,   he pities her.   she hates that,   she hates the way he looks at him like she's his victim.   " i brought you pizza. "   it's offered with a smile   &   she smiles back just as quick although there's something hollow within it,   she's making it up.   " thanks.   the food here is terrible. "   his cheek twitches   &   she sighs as he sits down.   please don't pity me,   she thinks,   please don't look at me like i'm an innocent lamb.   he opens the box   &   they start eating,   sitting across from one another.   do you see who i am?

when will kills garret jacob h.obbs,   he cuts a square shaped hole in the chest of abigail.   he didn't mean to but he's aware of what he's done   &   the guilt was so palpable that anyone who talked to him even once knew how he felt towards abigail h.obbs.   when she awoke,   she was hardly aware of who he was,   &   what he wanted.   " i remember you. "   she said to him,   because she did.   before all the blood spilled from her neck   &   her vision started to blur,   she saw what will did.   he took her dad.

now,   complex would be an understatement.   what did this mean to a little girl who was her father's best son?   he took away her best friend,   he took away her worst enemy,   &   he tried to become her everything   (   that wasn't his plan   &   yet that's how the teacup shattered   ).

she wants to like him,   she wants to feel safe with him,   but she can't.   it's not just freddie l.ounds whispering in her ear the rumors of will's instability,   nor is it alana   &   h.annibal's therapeutic process:   he was just trying to fit a circle shaped peg into a square shaped hole:

of his own creation.

she plays along with his game,   it's easy enough to do because she's done it so many times before.   she's played a game with her father,   she can play a different game with will.   unlike her father,   will doesn't see her for what she is   &   for who she is   (   her father did,   h.annibal did   ).

it didn't make it any better as will slowly unfolded how he caught her father,   how he felt about her father,   how he knew what he had to do.   he could think like her father   &   she could see a fear in him:   she could see the same fear in herself.   he didn't want to become garret jacob h.obbs,   neither did she.   shouldn't that make it better?

it didn't.   it couldn't.

she was blurred at the line between her father   &   herself.

he switched between being will g.raham   &   being the minnesota shrike with the blink of an eye,   &   could switch back just as fast.

he wanted this story to end,   the copycat killer trailing his every move with a precision   (   almost as if...   ),   as did she.   they were always the same story in different fonts,   mistranslated between dead languages.   this is when her general distrust turned into actual fear.   will g.raham was always open with her,   his disgust at murder   &   yet his gravitational pull into the heads of killers,   &   this time his openness went to far.   he could kill her,   he thought about it.

she had distrusted him nearly the whole time,   he killed her father   (   she was always daddy's girl!   )   &   yet he thought so highly of her.

finally,   she lays it out on the line,   she is not that lamb but the daughter of the minnesota shrike   (   what is a duaghter if not an accomplice   ).

mutual distrust,   she was not who he thought she was,   she would never be the needy girl he could protect from the horrors that were in the world.   she was the horror,   she was some part of it at least.

she will always carry some level of guilt towards him,   towards running away or dragging him along as a pawn in her own version of this game,   but there's a peace,   an ease in her.   she's lived too many lives to be surrounded by a man she doesn't want to be around.

she doesn't want to be a circle shaped peg in a square shaped hole.

[moviesessionwithmyhubby]

The jigsaw puzzle pieces - Part1

#notamovieexplanation

I used to believe that the reason why two people are able to be happy in a relationship is because they are two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly.

But is it true that we humans are formed naturally to be like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle, with one individual’s Tab (what this person can contribute to other) to fit in precisely with another individual’s Hole (what this person is lacking and in need) and vice versa? Now that I've given it some more thought, I no longer believe that.

My current theory is that in the beginning of a romantic partnership, the two persons involved are like two rough-hewn pieces of a puzzle, they can be shaped like a square, or like a triangle, or even like a rectangle. The idea is that both of these parts need to initially have the same form so that the two individuals share the same fundamental principles, which include their beliefs and interests. You can't put a square with a circle or a triangle with a rectangle and expect them to wind up fitting together nicely after some sculpting. The shape may be anything; what matters is that these two parts need to have the same shape to start with. So now we have a pair of basic puzzle pieces that share identical shapes. Does this imply that they now connect seamlessly? It is obvious that this is not the case.

In order to become compatible, they must undergo the sculpting phase. And this phrase is not easy, it’s challenging. It is a lengthy journey filled with both joy and sorrow, requiring significant effort and determination. Today I will tell you part one of the ongoing sculpting phrase that exists between my husband and myself. Part 1: The schedule piece Since my husband started spending the day with me, his daily routine has been completely turned upside down. In general, he schedules our meetings for between ten and eleven o'clock at night, which translates to between six and seven o'clock in his time zone. However, since he is here with me, he delays it until 8 or 9 o'clock at night on his end. This allows him to spend quality time with me at an appropriate hour for me, which in turn ensures that I will be able to go to sleep at the appropriate time. You know that he goes to sleep after putting me to bed, sings me songs to help me go asleep, and wakes up at the same time as I do. And unlike me, he didn't even start acting like a b*tch due to his lack of sleep.

In addition to this, he alters his normal mode of communicating. Because he is aware that I am clingy and that I like to ping him throughout the day, he makes it a point to constantly check his Whatsapp in order to ensure that he does not overlook any of my messages.

The most important thing for me to realize at first was that I am no longer an individual living by myself. I am now involved in a relationship. Hence, I need to take into account the fact that there is a time difference of four hours between us and work on aligning my schedule more closely with his, so that we can come up with a quality time together everyday. 

Before I met my husband, I had been single for about 26 years, and when we first started being in the relationship with my husband, I had no idea what to do. Before I met him, my typical day consisted of the following: work, followed by either going to the gym or spending time with friends and family, and then coming home to play with my cat Simba, surf the internet, read a book, or watch Netflix. And on the weekends, I would sleep in till I felt like waking up, lounge about all day, go to the gym, and spend time with my family or friends. But at this point, it is important for me to ensure that I set aside at least some portion of each day to spend meaningful time with him while maintaining some sort of activities I have been doing all the time, like going to gym or hanging with friends and family sometimes.

I'm not going to lie; while I was single, I had no need to worry too much about anybody else in my life other than my family. I was having a great time being alone. But ever since I've been with my husband, I feel responsible for his happiness and well-being. Because of this, my chest tightens whenever anything bad occurs and we aren't happy about it; because of this, the flavor of food disgusts me whenever me and my husband fall into silence; because of this, I don't feel like I have the energy to accomplish anything whenever we are having an argument; and because of this, I weep myself to sleep whenever there is a problem that hasn't been resolved between us. I'm going to be really honest with you once again, I did wonder why it was so difficult to be in a relationship. But then I had the realization that it isn't intended to be simple. If it is easy, then the vow "for better or worse" doesn't mean what it's supposed to mean, does it?

[careless-with-your-heart]

Oceans Between

I fell in lovе with a girl that is on life support.

Oh, I'd been wandering 'round these halls myself

Am I the one that needs a doctor?

I need some help.

What if she doesn't need

All of the wires and machines?

What if I break her free?

Well, she belongs with me...

***

Olivia is floating. The room is cold, but she doesn’t mind it—in fact, she doesn’t mind much of anything. She’s drifting on a cloud, floating in an amorphous space that has no detail behind her closed eyes.

Then, the pain comes. It’s a stabbing, piercing pain in the back of her neck, and it makes something that feels like electrical current zip down her spine. Her throat constricts. The cloud goes away, and the amorphous space takes shape—it’s now a box, close and claustrophobic, dark and sweltering, filled with pins and needles, closing around her, fast.

“Retractors,” a deep baritone instructs. “Quickly.”

The tips of Olivia’s fingers begin to feel hot.

The pain at the back of her neck widens, as though whatever has stabbed her is making slow, spreading circles, the point at which it jams into her flesh a nadir of agony. Olivia can smell blood. She can feel her heartbeat in the nape of her neck, where the sizzle of electricity is only growing more intense.

“Port,” the baritone says. “On three. One, two—"

Pressure, and then, Olivia comes to know what real pain is. She screams.

When she tries to reach back, to discover the source of the anguish, Olivia can’t move either of her hands—her wrists are held down by straps that flex, but do not give as she struggles against them.

She still can’t open her eyes.

Peter… she thinks wildly, desperately. Maybe she says it out loud, because someone close laughs, and then, there’s a voice next to her ear. There is a hardness even in his soft accent.

“Peter’s not here, my dear. No one is coming. Just relax. It’ll be over soon.”

Walter?

She tries to move her head, but she can’t. That, too, has been rendered immobile. She’s aware that she’s lying somewhere, face-down, and she can’t shake the feeling of suspension, even though the cloud is gone.

Olivia concentrates.

“Her core temp just spiked two degrees.”

That voice is not familiar—Olivia can’t tell who the other is, who the deep baritone is coming from. But the words, the spike of heat, both make her think of how she and Peter had connected at the lab, how he had tried to calm her when she’d been anxious. Olivia casts out her reeling mind again for him, trying to reach him in some between-world so that he can find her.

Olivia isn’t sure what Peter would be walking into—where she is, who’s in the room, what weapons or dangers surround her are all mysteries—but she knows he’ll come, even if he doesn’t know the dangers. Walter will help him—Astrid, Lincoln, they’ll help save her.

She can’t sit idle, though.

Now is okay. It’s okay to use the powers.

“Another dose of sedative, immediately,” Walter—no, Secretary Bishop, she realizes suddenly—says.

There’s an ache, a pressure in the crook of her right elbow. The soft clank of something wheeled, metal. Olivia shifts her arm, can feel the IV there. They must have pushed something new into the tubing, must have…

Now. It’s okay. Burn them.

Olivia tries to race whatever they’ve put into her before the cloud comes back. She splays her fingers, pushes with all her might, imagining heat coming up from her heart and through her arms. She pictures the heat roaring from her fingertips, flame and ash, leaving nothing unscorched.

After three full seconds of intense concentration, she opens her eyes. She is staring down at a glaringly white tile floor, the squares so neatly together that she can barely make out the individual pieces.

The pain at the back of her neck dulls, but now she can feel the warm slide of something new. As she watches in horror, three fat, dark drops of blood drip from what she assumes is her chin, their contrast startling on the tile below her.

The heat in her begins to fade. As the sedative takes hold, again, Olivia thinks that she can almost see Peter’s profile in the Rorschach shapes of her blood against the stark white.

Peter, she thinks before the white fades to black. Peter, come find me.

Read more here @ AO3: I'm Found in the Water by CarelessWithYourHeart

[scary-senpai]

They say 'write for yourself,' and so here's Genos and Garou arguing about the mathematics of Christmas.

...I don't know, I just think they're neat. :D In any case, I am glad to be getting into the spirit of @wanpanmas 2022 and also finally my fic from Wanpanmas 2021.

Not yet beta read, there may be science errors because I usually have my boyfriend fact-check my jokes.

“Alright,” Garou sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Tell me exactly what I’m looking at.”

The whiteboard was literally painful to look at. Shining more brightly than fresh-fallen snow (and with a nasty glare to match), it was as large as a wide-screen television. Scrawled across the surface in tiny, meticulous strokes of blue ink were countless symbols, numbers, and letters—calculations, Garou guessed. Not that he could make heads or tales of it.

As far as Garou was concerned, the whole mess may as well be ancient hieroglyphs—overwhelming, incomprehensible remnants from an entirely different world. And that’s how he felt, standing beside Genos in the kitchen—as if they were from two entirely different civilizations, separated by time, possibly even space.

“These are the comprehensive mathematics of your so-called ‘Santa,’” Genos explained. “Figure two billion adolescents currently in existence, and roughly 15% observe Christmas. For simplicity’s sake, we will ignore the complexities of mixed-faith households, as well as the existence of Orthodox Christmas.”

“Uh-huh.”

Garou rubbed his eyes, dizzy with all the facts and figures swirling behind them.

“On average, one can expect to find roughly 3.5 children in every home—wait, Garou, why are you laughing?”

“I’m not.”

Garou was, actually, although he sensed he shouldn’t be… snickering as he envisioned a family of three full children and one half child standing side by side.

“Alright,” Genos continued. “Postulating 3.5 children per home, let’s assume that at least one child can expect gifts from Santa. In the interest of time, we will sidestep any philosophical discourse regarding the nature of ‘good,’ of which there are many—“

“Yeah, ‘moral dessert’ and whatnot,” Garou muttered. “The hell’s that?”

“A reindeer.”

Garou eyed the four-legged stick figure with what seemed like antennae (or possibly horns). A jumble of shapes—mostly squares and circles—appeared linked to the thing.

It almost, almost looked like a reindeer.

“Does Santa have eight of those?”

“Taking into account the gifts and the sleigh, Santa has a payload of 321,300 tons, not including Santa,” Genos said plainly, as if this were common knowledge and Garou already understood what these numbers meant.

“…and?”

“Presupposing the existence of exceptionally gifted reindeer, Santa would require no less than 214,200 to support the weight of his payload. In order to conserve resources, I have augmented my sketches with scientific notation.”

Genos pulled a napkin from his front pocket and snapped it with all the flourish of a picador.

“‘Back-of-the-napkin calculations’,” Garou grumbled. “Of course.”

“In order to frequent all 91.8 million qualified dwellings within the requisite 31-hour timeframe, Santa must accelerate to 650 miles per second—roughly 3,000 times the speed of sound. Moving at this unthinkable speed, with this inconceivable payload would generate enormous air resistance,” Genos continued, pausing for a breath he did not need to take. “Not unlike a spaceship re-entering the atmosphere, for example.”

“Uh-huh.”

“As I am sure you’re aware, hundreds of meteors breach our planet’s atmosphere and fall towards the earth itself,” Genos continued, “yet only a handful will actually complete their journey. The remainder burn up upon re-entry, which means—“

Genos snapped the napkin again, showing off the drawing on the other side: a rotund stick figure with a strange, triangular hat, that was (painfully, unfortunately) on fire.

“In conclusion,” Genos declared, “if Santa once existed, he does no longer—due to rampant population growth and the spread of Christianity.”

(the primary source of the santa calculations is here: http://www.comedycorner.org/5.html)

here's a silly drawing of Genos' reindeer. when it comes to illustrations, Garou thinks he can do it better, but he also understands now is not the time to try.

[wordsandrobots]

Ah, yes! That is indeed one of the quotes I was thinking of, though it got muddled with some of the ones you'd pointed me to previously.

With respect the the wider presence of queerness in Gundam, yes, definitely. What I wrote was not intended as an exhaustive overview but rather a brief synopsis covering the (to my awareness) earliest example and the most recent one. I ended up including the cross-dressing in 00 purely because it seemed too obvious a connection to make regarding the 'otherness' of the characters involved and how I'd noticed that tendency in contrast to the more normalised examples in IBO and G-Witch. That wasn't meant to dismiss other instances -- they just lay off topic for something already 9000 words long!

(That said, what were the examples from 00? It's been a couple of years since I watched it and I'm drawing an embarrassing blank . . .)

As for Shino . . . OK. This is tangential, but you've prompted me to think about something my partner brought up while we were discussing this essay. They mentioned how some people didn't see the explicit gay overtones in Aziraphale and Crowley in Good Omens despite it being a fairly straightforward recreation of a realistic homosexual dynamic for the time and place the story was originally written/set. That's an understandable disconnect, caused by shifting norms, but it doesn't mean Good Omens does not intentionally depict a queer dynamic.

Something similar can happen if you do what Iron-Blooded Orphans does and treat a character's sexuality as a twist. Because they absolutely did. Shino being bi is deliberately obfuscated even down to little details of his design. They did *not* want him to carry stereotypically gay markers and the only reason to do that is so the could have those moments before and after he dies, where he finally responds to Yamagi's yearning. I joked about straight-baiting, but his plot line was shaped around making him 'plausibly straight' up to the very last moment, because that's how you get the emotional impact to land. I'll stick by the claim it's not melodramatic, since Yamagi's anxieties are largely underplayed throughout. It's still drama.

And that inevitably creates space for the intention to be missed or willfully misread. I've had the motivation to pour over every frame with the knowledge of where it's going. You don't necessarily get to do that the first time around, especially when the writers aren't showing their hand until the correct moment. Through no fault of the audience's, being equivocal always carries a risk.

I strongly believe it's important for writers and artists to be allowed to convey things without stating them outright (it makes me twitchy when people insist on things being spelled out with e.g. specific statements about character sexuality). But there are pitfalls to trying to be subtle and especially with trying to get clever about it. On balance and knowing what I do of the behind-the-scenes stuff, I am prepared to defend IBO on this score. I think Shino and Yamagi's final scenes together are something they built up to well and pretty damn blatant, all told. There are still a lot of places they left themselves wide open as a result of plotting decisions (and most likely what they thought they could get away with for their genre, broadcast requirements and political climate, too).

Which sort of cycles around to the ending and the treatment of Atra and Kudelia's relationship. As I've attempted to square the circle between exactly what's on screen and believing it is absolutely the correct choice to read them as lovers, I've leaned on the fact Eugene is a chronic sufferer from foot-in-mouth syndrome who can be a right prat at times. Because I also would have liked a more definitively married take on those final scenes. That would have been really nice!

I'm just not sure it's something we could have realistically expected, and I see the whys of doing it the way they did. For all the reasons I broke down in the essay, I think it's both a fitting conclusion and a technically correct one. Plus they gesture towards the queer interpretation strongly enough, I never feel I'm 'fighting canon' when I write fanfic that treats these two women as a romantic couple. That's far more than I can say about a lot of stuff I like. (I also just plain don't get angry over media that doesn't deliver queer outcomes where it might otherwise have done so -- part and parcel of what I grew up with, I suspect.)

I still get it. I'm not about to claim 'this is perfect queer fiction' or anything of the kind; I hope I was clear about that. IBO's ending isn't explicit about Atra and Kudelia being married and it does focus on the male protagonist's son, in what is ultimately a very traditional approach for the genre. The bait-and-switch with Akatsuki is something I would have softened precisely the way you suggest, had I been writing it.

In the end, though, I've found I'm happier focusing on what's actually present and meeting it where it's at. There's a wealth of things to be excited about in IBO as a queer person, and it's the Gundam show that's executed queerness in a way that most chimed with me. Hence, well, those 9000 words, which I am most grateful to you for reading!

IBO reference notes on . . . queerness

How has it taken me this long to write about this aspect of the show? (He asked rhetorically, staring at the enormous amount of fanfic that basically stands as a thesis statement on how very queer this part of the Gundam franchise is [as opposed to all the other terribly straight parts, he added, sarcastically].)

Anyway, let's do it. Full spoilers up to the end of the show will follow, together with discussion of child abuse and exploitation, since that is what IBO is all about.

Special thanks to @lilenui and @prezaki for their invaluable assistance in locating sources.

Statement of caveats: this work is an amateur analysis of the English-language localisations (subtitled and dubbed) of a piece of Japanese media. I do not speak or read Japanese. I am myself bi, which qualifies me to be attracted to more of the cast than the average viewer, and have a working knowledge of LGBTQ+ history in the UK and USA, which tells me nothing about the cultural and historical context in which this anime was made. As such, I will not be addressing the behind-the-scenes production or the corporate mandates surrounding it but will focus narrowly on what I perceive to be present in the text (hereafter meaning both the script and animation, and any additional fictional details provided elsewhere).

Queerness in Gundam

Some background before we dive in. To my knowledge, the first character in the Gundam franchise to be intentionally depicted as LGBTQ+ is Guin Sard Lineford from Turn A Gundam (1999). An ambitious young aristocrat who spends the series on the line between hero and villain, he is infatuated with protagonist Loran Cehack and the show makes little attempt to play this as anything other than one man falling in love with another.

This is entirely one-sided and not appreciated on Loran's part, although that seems to have less to do with it being homosexual attraction than with Guin's high-handed and entitled attitude to life, filtered through heavily gendered social norms. For plot reasons, Loran spends several episodes cross-dressing as 'Laura Rolla', corsets and all, and Guin continues referring to him as 'Laura' long after the deception is no longer required, saying it 'suits him better'. Guin is eventually called out on this by a third character, who accuses him of forcing an idea of feminity on the other man rather than stoop to place himself in the position of a 'wife'. Objectifying Loran is presented as of a piece with Guin's overall flaws as a person, to whit, putting his own views about how things should be above the material reality and desires of those around him.

Guin is also the only explicitly gay character in the show (I'm honestly not sure how to classify whatever Dianna Soreil and Kihel Heim have going on, but it's certainly not labelled in the text). Therefore no counterpoint is provided to demonstrate healthy queer relationships. I don't state this to dismiss his inclusion: he forms part of a smart, nuanced plot thread, and Gundam creator Yoshiyuki Tomino had to fight to get Guin's homosexuality clearly included. But even so, Guin is a palpable step forward rather than a watershed moment, and the end result veers close to some nasty stereotypes about queer people imposing their desires on others.

There are other examples of characters transgressing gender norms in Turn A, most especially Loran's aforementioned cross-dressing. He is comfortable playing the part of 'Laura', in ways that mitigate viewing this situation as the extended joke it might be in another production. Funny moments do come up – particularly in the lead-in to his 'debut' as he acclimatises to the female attire of the show's pseudo-Edwardian setting and takes posture lesson – but he and the concept of a man in ladies' clothes are never made a subject of mockery. The same cannot be said for the character of Sochie Heim, whose attempts as a young woman to fulfil a gung-ho masculine role often turn comedic. This is part and parcel of her assaying militaristic modes of action, which are soundly mocked across the board. It nevertheless stands out next to Loran/Laura.

Further, Loran's status as a literal moon-child carries implications for his attitudes. His dismissal of existing social standards on Earth is very much presented as correct, and in keeping with what I know of Tomino's other writing and stated beliefs, but it dovetails unfortunately with a treatment of queerness as otherworldly, not something that may be found among an average population. We get another example of cross-dressing in the next-but-one series, Gundam 00 (2007, not a work Tomino helmed), where the usually male-presenting artificial lifeform Tieria Erde switches to a female presentation (in a ball-gown, no less) during a covert mission. This sufficiently parallels Loran's case, I assume it was a deliberate call-back, being as it is a disguise enacted by someone even less typical than a boy from the moon.

What I am driving at is that while Guin, Loran and Tieria may be characters who are queer or perform queerness in some manner, they do not necessarily represent an outright embracing of queerness as a mundane facet of everyday life.

Fast-forward to 2024 and the latest mainline Gundam show is a lesbian romance.

If you have been following my blog for a while, you will know I do not hold The With From Mercury in especially high regard. I think it is annoyingly messy, frequently half-baked, and, broadly-speaking, exactly as frustrating as I'd expect from the guy who wrote Code:Geass. It's still an explicit love story that opens with a clangingly blunt statement about the acceptance same-sex relationships and ends with the two female leads happily married to one other. For all its flaws, I genuinely think the central relationship between Suletta Mercury and Miorine Rembran is a nice piece of story-telling, not to mention admirably open about what it is doing. Like it or lump it, Gundam is gay now, properly, with a protagonist and co-protagonist who can be definitively labelled queer and whose romance appears entirely unremarkable for the setting (in terms of being same-sex; clearly there is a lot to remark upon otherwise).

I would be remiss if I did not mention that the conclusion of the series was accompanied by a certain amount of corporate arse-showing, with hollow attempts to walk back the ending seemingly for the sake of appeasing homophobic elements within and without the companies that produce Gundam. The frankly laughable nature of these actions stands testament to how unequivocal G-Witch is. It is flatly impossible in my opinion to interpret as anything other than flagrantly homosexual, and that's great.

Between this interesting but limited start and the full-throated present lies Iron-Blooded Orphans (2015), my absolute favourite and the show that got me writing slash fic after years of… not doing that. So: what is the deal with queerness in IBO?

Natural for a human

By my count, including all present spin-offs, there are three characters stated in-text as being attracted to people of the same gender (Yamagi Gilmerton, Iznario Fareed, Deira Nadira), two who are at the least open to the idea (Norba Shino, Mina Zalmfort), two whose mutual attraction is stated within the context of polyamory with a third person of the opposite gender (Atra Mixta, Kudelia Aina Bernstein), one whose sexuality is briefly hinted at (Chad Chaden), and one male character who is possibly not attracted to women (Orga Itsuka).

Let's get Iznario out of the way first, because the less time we spend on the actual paedophile, the better.

Lord Iznario Fareed is a rich, powerful aristocrat who sexually abuses young blonde boys and inadvertently sets large parts of the plot in motion as part of quasi-villain McGillis' backstory. In a lesser show, Iznario would be the embodiment of the 'predatory queer' stereotype Guin skirts the edge of. Here, however, he is very much not the only 'gay' character present and his proclivities demonstrate one of the many ways the world exploits vulnerable children, a core theme of the series. Early on, we see fleeting glimpses of young girls being pimped out on the streets of Mars. Iznario shows this social failing extends to the much richer Earth and although he is portrayed as the worst among the Gjallarhorn elite, they all abuse their power for personal gain. Thus, as much as the reveal of what he has done carries a certain shock value, it is not present purely for cheap impact. (This isn't the essay to discuss it, but the flashbacks to McGillis being abused as a child are a masterclass in how to frame such things around the victim, clearly communicating what's happening while avoiding gross voyeurism.)

I don't know how deliberate it is the canonical gay character who is shown in an entirely positive light fits the profile of Iznario's victims to a T, but it does underscore we're looking at a case of power allowing people to get away with hideous things, not a stand-in for queerness in general. To an extent I resent having to spell this out, since it seems so obvious Iznario is not fulfilling the role of a homophobic cliché. Sadly, the cliché exists and the point is worth discussion.

Moving swiftly on: Yamagi and Shino.

Yamagi Gilmerton is a small, quiet teenage boy with a somewhat withdrawn and acerbic personality, who spends much of Iron-Blooded Orphans nursing a hopeless crush on mobile suit pilot Norba Shino. Like the majority of the cast, Yamagi is a child soldier, but a mechanic rather than a combatant. Additional backstory commentary reveals that he struggled on joining CGS mercenary group due to his physique. Indeed, while this detail is not directly referenced in the anime itself, he is indeed drawn noticeably thinner than the other boys.

Again, we veer towards stereotypes, where a queer character is portrayed as weaker and more effeminate. Yet in spite of leaning this way in looks, Yamagi is an eminently capable person, never treated as lesser for fulfilling a support role rather than being a fighter. If anything, IBO goes out of its way to highlight how vital good mechanics are to mechanised warfare, and we see multiple examples of Yamagi being both assertive and kind of badass. At one point, he scales, unaided, an 18 metre tall mobile suit that's collapsed to its knees. When he and Shino are revisited in spin-off game Urdr Hunt (soon to be some form of animated production), he pilots a spaceship within an active battle-zone, flying escort for a damaged freighter as it retreats. In Season 2, he's comfortable ordering Tekkadan's new recruits around and is the first person to properly chew Orga out for his failings as a leader. Far from being an outlier among the protagonists, Yamagi is equally brave and dedicated to the cause, irrespective of his sexuality.

To be fair, he does tend to clam up and grow more awkward around the object of his affections. To be equally fair, he has the misfortune of having fallen for the most oblivious himbo on God's red Mars.

Shino is a big, boisterous warrior, the polar opposite of Yamagi in personality and physicality. He embodies Tekkadan's machismo, eagerly anticipating the chance to prove their strength and generally being a standard bearer for becoming the biggest, baddest group around. Things are not as straightforward as they seem on the surface, however. He shows a good awareness of when the group is in over their heads – going so far as to suggest retreat in the face of bad odds several times – and he is not nearly as sure of himself as he might first appear. He displays a wide streak of insecurity about his abilities as a soldier, reacting badly to people questioning his dedication or competency. And he crumbles completely when some of his comrades are killed as the result of a split-second mistake on his part, stating a wish to have died in their place. Thereafter, he acts in ways that read as choosing to take all the risks on himself rather than go through more loss. It makes him an interesting mix, someone who acts as a cheerleader, boosting everyone else's morale, while swallowing his own doubts and personal fatalism.

He is also presented as one of the most sexually active members of Tekkadan, using his wages to visit brothels to sleep with women. Indeed, he is frequently found extolling the virtues of the opposite sex, referencing collections of pornography (at least in the English dub), and generally being a very typical teenage boy about such matters.

Given this, you might assume Yamagi is longing hopelessly for a straight man. That is indeed the idea the show teases us with for much of its run (can something be straight-baiting? I feel if anything ever earned that title, it's this). OK, Shino's fond of Yamagi as a friend and frequently relies on his assistance in improving his fighting ability, and per ancillary material, is the one who got Yamagi transferred to the mechanics corps in the first place, rescuing him from struggling in the infantry. And sure, Shino spends an awful lot of time in very close proximity to Yamagi, including literally pulling him into the cockpit to assist with a mission. And yes, Shino is absolutely a flamboyant creature, sporting gold ear studs and an attraction to the colour pink, ensuring his mobile suits are painted all over magenta in order to stand out on the battlefield. And certainly, Shino is extremely empathetic, adjusting his attitude depending on his impressions of other people, such that he dials his boisterousness down in Yamagi's presence, displaying a far more gentle affection than he does with his other friends.

But clearly he hasn't noticed Yamagi is head over heels for him.

Right?

Well, towards the end of Season 2, during another moment where Yamagi is literally sitting on Shino's knee, Shino proposes the two of them drink together all night long once the fighting is over. Not only is this an unambiguously romantic overture (he's asking while pushing aside the fringe that normally covers half of Yamagi's face, in order to look into his eyes properly), it comes after a joke several episodes earlier in which Shino has to explain to a less worldly comrade that a girl inviting you for a drink is not a request to go out with the whole gang but a far more intimate gesture (I say explain, it's more expressing incredulity Akihiro didn't realise Lafter was asking him on a date). Later, it is revealed Shino did indeed work out that Yamagi 'likes' him (to his friend Eugene's exasperation that it took him so long to notice), and he reacted with amazed delight to discover there was someone in Tekkadan who'd fall in love with 'a guy like me'.

He'd assumed because Tekkadan is a family (a description provided by their ally Naze, which everyone just kind of runs with), romantic love wasn't possible between them. Having worked through this mental block and finally realised the blindingly obvious, he renews his desire to protect Tekkadan as long as he lives, refuting his previous view of himself as an expendable human shield and heading out with every intention of surviving all the way to the end.

And because IBO is an exquisitely-written tragedy, he is promptly killed while attempting a futile one-man attack against their enemies, his advances on Yamagi forming part of a long build-up whereby the boy who loves him provides the tools he needs to charge into a suicide run.

Right then. *drags out the reading comprehension soap-box* I have seen some people refer to this as an example of the 'bury your gays' trope, and there is nothing more likely to get me manifesting behind you in the form of an irate shoebill than to do likewise. 'Bury your gays' refers to a tendency for queer characters in fiction to disproportionately suffer tragic fates. This is a writing choice usually rooted in the idea queer relationships are inherently tragic, either because they are viewed as a perversion of 'correct' forms of love, or because of some misguided idea the prevalence of homophobia means queer joy is impossible. I am going to be charitable and concede this is indeed a case where one half of a budding homosexual relationship dies horribly. But, as always, the context matters.

All but one of the romantic relationships established prior to the epilogue of Iron-Blooded Orphans end in death. Of the two that survive in some capacity, one is a heterosexual background romance between two older characters and the other is a pair of women I shall be covering later. IBO is a story about child soldiers that does not shy away from the fact these are teenagers being fed into a meat-grinder. That the director's original intention of killing every named character was toned down (to the series immeasurable benefit, in my opinion) dos not change a narrative arc towards doom.

Within this, Yamagi and Shino aren't singled out for being queer. The coyness around Shino's eventually-evident bisexuality serves to generate an instant of hope and relief right before the rug is pulled from under everyone's feet. Where Shino's death does differ from those of other characters is in presentation: he dies alone and does not get any form of farewell or the passing-on moment afforded to others. But that is only to be expected, since we're talking about the point where it becomes clear there is no saving the situation. It's a cruel, abrupt moment of bad luck, puncturing the heroic idea of scraping victory at the last second. Shino flew out intending to live and he died anyway. A queer relationship forming part of what he was fighting for is an almost incidental detail.

(As an aside, I am aware of two other examples in Gundam fiction where a pilot and a mechanic have a doomed love affair. One is in Char's Counterattack, where a male engineer's romance with a female pilot ends with them both being abruptly killed, and the other is from Gundam AGE, where a female mechanic sacrifices herself for the greater good, leaving a male pilot to mourn her loss for the rest of the series. Shino and Yamagi reiterate this same concept.)

Stepping back from the tragedy, Yamagi's love for Shino is as delightfully underplayed as the other relationships in the show, with little emotional melodrama being wrung from the romance itself. Yamagi can't bring himself to declare his feelings, frequently turning cold instead and perpetuating Shino's misunderstanding of where they stand. Yet Shino ultimately proves enthusiastic for the idea, rendering moot any concerns Yamagi had over getting turned down (going beyond the text, a Q&A with the series' director confirmed Shino was written as bi). Equally, in the aftermath of Shino's death, Eugene comforts Yamagi by relating the truth of Shino's earlier realisation and even going so far as to rebuff Yamagi for implying there's something wrong with him for grieving. This and other interactions in the same episode imply those nearest to the pair were well aware of Yamagi's desires and had absolutely no problem with them. The prevailing attitude within Tekkadan is one of complete acceptance for its members and this is no different.

Indeed, for me, the most important part of how queerness is represented in IBO is that it is treated as just another aspect of the diversity of the cast. I've seen it stated that viewing homosexuality as a natural part of human existence was Tomino's motivation in making Guin gay. IBO presents us with the same idea, far more seamlessly and far more positively.

Now, let's leave the anime proper and look at the same-sex pairing from spin-off manga Iron-Blooded Orphans: Moon Steel.

Deira Nadira and Mina Zalmfort are part of the Gjallarhorn nobility and their marriage was arranged to strengthen relations between their two families. We see an example of a similar political match in the main show, where the heir to the Fareed family, McGillis, is betrothed to the second child of the Bauduins, the much, much younger Almiria. That this can take place regardless of the gender of the participants has big implications for the functioning of a bloodline-focused aristocracy. Presumably it indicates they are happy to use medical technology to ensure the Nadira family continues into the next generation, and if same-sex marriages are thus permitted, that means fewer factors to worry about when it comes to perpetuation. Whether male-male weddings are allowed too remains an open question; given the existence of real-world double-standards, it is possible Deira and Mina represent the only acceptable form of homosexuality. Nevertheless, that it is accepted speaks volumes. Gjallarhorn is not an especially progressive organisation, built as it is on rigid class structures and notions of human purity. Yet here we are.

Perhaps we should have expected that the norms around gender in this system don't correspond to strictly patriarchal patterns from the real world. Carta Issue, a key player in Season 1 of the anime, is the only child of the Issue Family's current leader and positioned as his sole heir, irrespective of the fact she's a woman. The logical inference is that any children of hers would count as Issues, rather than belonging to a potential husband's family. Deira is similarly the heir to her father's position, although intriguingly, it's not outright confirmed if she is his only child or simply the oldest. The possibility exists that gender is a non-factor in determining inheritance.

With respect to sexuality, Deira seems pretty obviously intended to be a lesbian. Her relationship with Mina is presented as one they are both happy with, despite it being an arranged by their parents, and Deira is depicted in the manual for Gundam Gremory's model kit as favouring the clothes of 'a handsome man'. She doesn't present that way within the manga' story, first showing up wearing the standard unisex Gjallarhorn pilot-suit, then wearing a formal gown for a meeting while in an official capacity. But she is depicted wearing masculine clothes in silhouette when initially mentioned and in a post-story panel at the back of the final volume.

(Another aside: the fan translations I use for this part of the manga refer to Deira using male pronouns when she's introduced. However, that could simply be down to the poor quality of said translation; she's consistently referred to using female pronouns in official materials and the game adaptation of this scene has her named as simply 'Lord Nadira', the standard appellation for Gjallarhorn family heads.)

Whether Deira's code-switching is the result of institutional expectations around her role or personal preference, it adds extra texture to her depiction. While civilian garb was designed for the adult version of Carta and closely matches conservative gender expectations for a woman, she's never shown wearing it, so we don't have a point of comparison to judge what's required of a character in Deira's position.

Regarding Mina, you'll notice I grouped her with Shino rather than the characters whose sexuality I consider to be stated outright. With Shino, the nature of his sexuality is not put absolutely beyond question in the text. This is splitting hairs due to the overt nature of what's on screen but the fact remains, the anime doesn't clarify if his being open to Yamagi's love means he already thinks of himself as bisexual, or if this is something he hadn't considered before. With Mina, it's more a case that I'm unwilling to label her one way or the other based on the available information. Deira carries sufficient signifiers, I find little room for doubt over the intention. We also have an outright statement that she holds great affection for Mina regardless of being obliged to consider her an eventual romantic partner. Indeed, she becomes so upset by believing her fiance dead, she runs off to Antarctica in a Gundam. But the exact depth of Mina's feelings in return is not discussed.

In addition, Mina is considerably younger than Deira. McGillis and Almiria's match takes place when he is (probably) somewhere in his late twenties and she is nine, with plans for the union made four years prior. This is not great, to put it mildly, albeit fairly typical of how such things have historically worked for nobility. Based on appearances and how they are treated by the rest of the cast, I would assume Mina to be in her mid-teens, and Deira to be in her early twenties (annoyingly, exact ages are provided for several characters in Moon Steel, just not these two). A less dramatic gap (and I don't believe Mina is meant to be quite as young as her appearance perhaps suggests), yet still significant when one of the people involved is below what we'd consider adulthood.

There is no indication of anything untoward going on, within the confines of the situation, similar to how we're given no indication McGillis is abusive towards Almiria. Any comparisons with Lord Iznario's activities lie purely along the axis of how children are exploited by adults even without suffering directly. All indications are that Deira and Mina have made the most of something they have little choice in. Regardless, I still feel more comfortable describing Mina as open to being in a relationship with another woman, rather than pinning her to a specific preference.

Continuing the theme of things where doubt or ambiguity exist, let's discuss some characters were there shouldn't be any: Atra and Kudelia.

I don't know about you, but I find it extraordinarily hard to read this as anything other than a three-way love-confession. Still, in the interests of fair play, let's review the wriggle room for declaring this something else.

Kudelia Aina Bernstein and Atra Mixta are love interests of nominal protagonist Mikazuki Augus, in an iteration of another tried-and-true trope, that of a male lead inexplicably being attractive to the female characters in his orbit. Or rather, it would be if the show didn't take such pains to demonstrate why these girls fall for him, setting up a long-established crush on Atra's part (rooted in him being the first person in the world to be nice to her) and a mutual respect on Kudelia's that gets spurred to more when Mikazuki randomly decides to kiss her because she 'looked cute' (Mikazuki has the manners of a feral stray raised on the streets, because that's precisely what he is).

Justification aside, this has the makings of a traditional triangle, that is, one without a connecting base, which we might expect to be resolved by either Kudelia or Atra 'losing out'. For a few episodes, this does indeed seem where we are headed. Then Atra discovers the concept of polyamory via the polygamous Turbines group and all bets are off.

Having realised it is perfectly possible for a family to consist of multiple romantic partners, Atra proceeds to work towards ensuring everyone gets everything they want. Strictly speaking, this doesn't mean she is attracted to Kudelia as well – even if she clearly recognises Kudelia as an attractive person from the start and…

You know what? Acknowledging that the information about their eventual marital status was only stated in interviews at live events with no official record and seems to have been framed around raising the son Atra has with Mika, I'm going to abandon the pretence of both-sided objectivity and go straight for the throat. Turns out my patience for soft-footing this lasts about as long as it takes to say 'bi-erasure'.

Over the course of Season 1, Atra not only decides the end-game is some form of three-person wedding, she also:

Shows no jealousy over Mikazuki and instead chides him for not providing the correct emotional support to the girl he kissed.

Spends a great deal of time with Kudelia and enthusiastically throws herself into furthering Kudelia's goals, without necessarily understanding the technicalities.

Covers for Kudelia by pretending to be her during a confrontation with Gjallarhorn soldiers, getting herself soundly beaten up in order to prevent them from chasing after the real deal.

Drives an armoured car through a battlefield for Kudelia's sake, safely delivering her to a vital rendezvous.

Leaps in front of a massive mobile suit to push Kudelia out of its path, physically shielding the other girl with her body.

As much as it pains me to resort to the 'if this were a man and a woman, would it read as romantic' crudity – yes! Yes it would! Especially since in Season 2, Atra presents Kudelia with a good-luck charm bracelet she has woven, something she previously did for Mikazuki explicitly out of having a crush on him. I'm all for embracing platonic love (which is why Takaki and Aston are not featuring in this rundown) and there's nothing in the above list necessarily entailing attraction beyond deep friendship. But when Atra consciously repeats her actions towards Mikazuki (someone she goes on to definitely have sex with) with Kudelia and it leads to the scene between them where they declare how they feel about each other and Mikauki, looking for non-romantic angles takes more effort.

After all, if we are to read Shino's openness to Yamagi's affection from the things he says and how he looks saying them, we can certainly do the same for Atra and Kudelia's use of the word 'like' in reference to one another and their reactions to hearing it said of them. (Obligatory note that if there is some nuance in the original Japanese the translation doesn't capture, I'd love to hear about it. The English scripts, however, leave little to the imagination.)

It is indisputable that Atra feels a strong affection towards Kudelia and while I have been focusing on her a lot (she is by far the most proactive member of the triad), Kudelia reciprocates at every opportunity she is presented with. Even if there truly wasn't an intention to portray this as exactly equivalent to Atra and Mikazuki, the end result manages to be on par with Yamagi and Shino. Consider Kudelia and Mikazuki, for example. In terms of portrayal and the two-girls-one-guy trope being explored here, they have the same level of chemistry and the same absence of overt consummation as Kudelia and Atra, and it would hardly be a serious position to claim the show does not place the two of them in romantic conjunction, now would it?

You may at this point be wondering why I am getting so defensive of reading Kudelia and Atra as romantic partners. Honestly, I am too. On reflection, I think it's because IBO is playing around with such a worn-out and insipid means of wringing drama from characters who should know better, I keep searching for the catch. And yet there isn't one. This show really did respond to a nascent love chevron by having the mousy, homely girl tell the governor's beautiful daughter to shut up and get in the polycule, and turned it into a true triangle.

That's wonderful. I cannot properly express the wave of joy and relief that came over me when I realised this was the direction they were taking. It ends in tragedy, of course, Mikazuki giving up any chance of a peaceful life to die in battle, far away from the women who love him. But their lives continue because of his sacrifice and by all appearances they remain together. In some ways, for the overarching message of hope persisting on the back of heartbreak, the precise details of that arrangement don't particularly matter. So why not take the gayest reading possible?

What an excellent segue into a blink-and-you'll-miss-it, probably-stretching-too-far, nonetheless-compelling potential bit of queerness: Chad in the series epilogue.

One of the many tertiary characters in Tekkadan, Chad Chaden has minor speaking parts throughout Season 1 and a larger role in Season 2. He initially appears during a particularly dire early moment when it looks like everyone is about to be killed by attacking mobile suits. His obvious resignation to this fate sets the tone for a rather dour personality, at least while on the clock. Chad starts out as human debris, a person enslaved after a space battle and sold to the CGS military group as free labour. This gives him a very matter-of-fact attitude towards fighting and the kill-or-be-killed nature of being forced into it – he voices the sentiment that even when facing other human debris, they can't afford to show mercy.

Off the clock, Chad displays a more sensitive personality. He seems studious, learning about interplanetary communications from Kudelia's maid Fumitan and later being promoted to leader of Tekkadan's Earth branch. He has some difficulty acclimatising to being treated as a free person, proving unsure about the concept of wearing a smart suit instead of his normal fatigues. And he grows anxious when he returns to Mars to discover nobody told him two of the few adults in the group (Yukinojo and Merribit) had started dating, worrying that he's no longer 'one of the guys'.

The most we learn about his relationship preferences prior to the series epilogue comes in a comedic sequence about a third of the way into Season 2, when Shino suggests a trip to a local brothel. Eugene responds by proclaiming that he's realised money will not buy him true love. This prompts Chad to ask Merribit if this is true and, on her saying she supposes so, opts out of the trip as well. Judging by his body-language in the next frame where he appears, this is possibly a decision he regrets – perhaps owing to his anxieties, since he just passed up the chance for some team-bonding.

None of this is directly relevant to the topic of this essay. If anything, the scene I just described suggests that, like Eugene, Chad has previously gone along with Shino in paying for sex with women, only to discover he wanted more than just physical intimacy. But then we get the exchange in Kudelia's office during the last episode, following a time-skip after Tekkadan's defeat and dissolution. Now working for Kudelia as an assistant of some kind, Chad notes that Merribit is shortly to give birth to her and Yukinojo's second child, saying he and Yamagi intend to meet up later to plan a celebration. Eugene reacts with amused disbelief, accusing them of just wanting an excuse to go out drinking, to which Chad retorts, 'what's wrong with that?'

And the thing is he's blushing when he does. Which may simply be because Eugene is accusing him of slacking off – IBO characters blush all the time and their embarrassment is frequently to do with being caught acting immature or otherwise against how they want people to see them. But given the weight that 'drinking the night away' carries in regards to Yamagi following Shino's actions shortly prior to his death, it is easy to speculate this represents something more specific.

As far as I can recall, Chad and Yamagi do not interact at all over the course of the show's two seasons, meaning these lines present a rather unexpected combination of characters. Eugene would have seemed a more likely candidate to associate with Yamagi. He's positioned as Shino's closest friend, he comforts Yamagi over his grief, and they are together for much of the climax to the series' plot. So what has happened in the years since, that Eugene's teasing should elicit a blush from Chad instead?

If we put on our shipping goggles, it's far from a nonsensical pairing. Chad goes through an arc not too dissimilar to Shino's. He is knocked into a coma while protecting an ally from a bomb blast and subsequently the Earth branch gets swept into a war orchestrated by one of the factions within Gjallarhorn. On recovering, he blames himself for the many deaths that result, echoing Shino's line about thinking it better if he'd died in place of his comrades. On returning to Mars, he jumps head-first into mobile suit training, determined to make up for his perceived failure as a leader and cheering himself up through rigorous activity. Different though their personalities appear on the surface, there are clear commonalities here. Further, Chad's responses to his traumatic experiences have a more measured quality to them than Shino's. He is not nearly as reckless and provides clear directions to his comrades even while acting as a decoy against a dangerous enemy, rather than abandon any attempt to be an effective leader. Taken together, and coupled to a more long-term view of romance, these qualities might make him a 'safer' version of things Yamagi loved about Shino, creating space for them to be drawn together.

Or perhaps they're simply the most logical points of contact between the ex-Tekkadan survivors at the Admoss Company and Kassapa Factory and intend to make that an excuse to get companionably plastered for no greater reason than it being a nice time. I am speculating over a couple of lines and an animation choice. Nevertheless, it does not feel like unreasonable speculation. When we already have a veritable gaggle of characters who are queer or may trivially be read as such, it's hardly a stretch to assume one more.

Chad/Yamagi doesn't appear to be a thread the fandom at large has pulled on much, likely because the pairing of Shino and Yamagi is so prominent, it eclipses a mere throwaway possibility. But I'm glad it exists within easy reach. And even if we take off our goggles, these lines demonstrate life for the characters has not stopped. The ex-slave and the gay kid are not stuck, trapped by the tragedies of their past. They have instead grown in both confidence and happiness and now have peaceful, stable lives where they're on going-out-drinking terms. That above all is why I wanted to explore this exchange: it reinforces Iron-Blooded Orphans' rejection of the idea the suffering people like Chad and Yamagi go through is perpetual or inevitable.

OK, one more character to look at. Let's talk about Orga and asexuality.

Orga Itsuka, leader of Tekkadan and instigator of the series' events, is notable for his charisma, his drive to provide a safe home for his comrades, and his complete unsuitability for the grown-up activities he attempts. Trying to party all night leaves him puking up his dinner. He forces himself into a suit and tie to handle the administration of a break-out paramilitary company, despite finding it stultifying and bewildering. His goals spin like a weather-cock, as he's surrounded by older characters possessing strong convictions while unable to stick to his own. And he is ultimately undone by an unwillingness to ask for help, having assumed that, as leader, he must decide everything alone.

I suspect his expressed lack of interest in women is intended to help convey overall immaturity. Orga is a good soldier and tactician, but he plainly isn't prepared for adulthood, lacking the grasp on the complexities of life that implies. Making him uncomfortable about sex serves to heighten the impression of a teenager trying to navigate circumstances for which he's not yet ready.

Relatedly, it should be stressed Orga stating he 'doesn't care' about woman is a response to Eugene asking if he agrees love and kindness are what's important, as opposed to Shino's endorsement of boobs. On hearing this response, Eugene proceeds to mock his commander for inexperience. That he himself has only just had his first sexual experience with another person and previously said much the same about not caring about sex simply proves hypocrisy is a fundamental aspect of Eugene's characterisation. The whole scene is very teenage.

Matters have not improved much when Orga and Eugene's dynamic is revisited in one of the side-stories released via the Iron-Blooded Orphans G mobile game. A year and change later, Eugene continues to act superior about having 'experience' where Orga doesn't.

Orga takes this rather poorly.

(Subtitles by @trafalgarlog)

Eventually Merribit has to shout at them to stop being brats, shaming them for behaving like argumentative children. It's funny – and then you remember they basically still are children and this is headed towards more carnage that will not spare them for being young. Such it is to engage with Iron-Blooded Orphans.

What does any of this tell us about Orga's sexuality? In principle, taking it as a device to convey immaturity, nothing. Orga's persisting virginity could simply mean he's not worked out this aspect of himself yet. He is a busy young man who likely hasn't had the time to try.

Alternatively it could mean he is gay. Mikazuki/Orga is an extremely popular ship in the fandom and we might take Orga's professed lack of interest in women as 'evidence' of him swinging the other way.

Or we could take my view, that Orga is asexual and his embarrassment is rooted in just not getting what the big deal is.

To immediately clarify, I don't think he is ace because he 'hasn't worked out what he wants', I think he's ace because he blushes on admitting he doesn't care about women and does not try to prove otherwise once he's in a position where he could easily do so. In circling back to the same joke for the side-story, the writers portray Orga as continuing to be uninterested in sex and sensitive over being needled about it. Again, a feasible interpretation is that he's into guys. Yet this is an argument with Eugene, whose response to the idea of Yamagi being in love with Shino is basically 'you mean you didn't notice?' Eugene is a dork and jerk; he isn't bigoted. None of the Tekkadan guys are. It's unclear if homophobia is even a factor in the setting. Sexism is, but when someone as superficially macho as Shino is comfortable with male/male attraction, and there are same-sex weddings inside Gjallarhorn, we cannot assume stigma exists around being gay. So why should Orga be worried, unless it goes beyond a question of who you're attracted to and into the answer being 'nobody at all'?

When you're surrounded by people who happily wax lyrical about how the joys of sex make you a real man, the absence of a libido might easily become a sore point.

Again, I'm supposing. Again, there is room to do so. As I touched on with Chad, it is easy to read queerness into the text when the assumption of straightness has been taken away, which is something this show does wholeheartedly and deliberately.

Orga Itsuka is one of the first characters I looked at and realised, not only shouldn't I assume heterosexuality, I shouldn't assume sexual attraction at all. I cannot credit Iron-Blooded Orphans alone with this. I do credit it with being a piece of media that applies itself to inclusiveness in ways quite remarkable for a show about giant robot fights, produced to market toys.

The word we want here is 'normalisation'. IBO has a lot to say about what constitutes 'normal' and a lot of it accords well with my own views, particularly those that have me twitching whenever anybody demands we 'be normal' about something. Normality is horrible. It is cruel and it is callous. 'Normal' is a world run on exploitation, on slave labour and on police savagery. Normal is children forced to risk their lives to earn the money required to feed themselves, because it is normal for their parents be gone, or incapable of supporting them. War is normal. Corruption of political systems is normal. Death coming more rapidly for those deemed expendable by society is very, very normal.

But so is protest. The drive to do something, to change things. The capacity for caring about each other. Love. 'Normal' is just a statement about what surrounds us every day, for worse and for better. In too many pieces of fiction, normality is narrowed, rendered a neater, cleaner picture, often excluding the kinds of people we might run into on the street, or walk past, or see on the news, distant and dehumanised.

Queerness is normal, yet for a long time it has been one of the first things to be cut out of fictional worlds. And when it is present, it's a big deal. An object lesson or a cry of triumph over breaking free of unfair strictures. I love stories about queer joy and victory. Heck, I'm a sucker for a good, soppy gay romance. But these aren't the only kinds of stories we tell. Sometimes we need to reflect the worst aspects of the world and what it does to normal people.

In attempting this, Iron-Blooded Orphans commits to an idea of 'normal people' that includes those who are gay or bisexual, those of colour and those we'd call white, the polyamorous, the illiterate, the desperate, the powerful, those who throw themselves into the fight with everything they have, and those who are simply kind. Those who are accepting, understanding and compassionate. Those who need to be accepted, who struggle to be understood, who suffer for a lack of compassion.

There are all sorts of people in IBO and – as a certain cheery, violent dumbass once said – man do I love it. I don't believe it is reading against the spirit of the thing to imagine more diversity than gets outright stated, to interpret one of the leads as ace or suppose another side character is bi or pansexual. It would seem entirely natural if they were.

Everyone's welcome here, down among the debris and the bloodshed, where hope is precious and fleeting and still somehow endures. So why shouldn't we raise a few extra pride flags?

Queer as in 'fuck you'

This all said, taken as a whole, Iron-Blooded Orphans is not a story about queerness or queer romance. Nowhere is this clearer than in its ending.

I skipped over the framing of the final scenes of the anime when I discussed Kudelia and Atra. They form a striking contrast with the ending of The Witch from Mercury, where the conclusion is directly focused around Suletta and Miorine's love for one another, their bonds of wedlock, and the happiness they have found together. This follows from the show being primarily about their relationship. In Iron-Blooded Orphans, the ending focuses not on Kudelia's feelings toward Atra, but those she has for Akatsuki, Mikazuki's son, with Eugene even saying she's eager to go see 'the man she loves', setting up a brief moment of uncertainty over who the character with Mikazuki's outline actually is.

The nature of Kudelia and Atra's relationship post-time-skip is implied rather than stated: in the English versions of the script, they do not refer to each other using terms suggesting they are married, although Atra has dropped her habitual 'Miss' from the front of Kudelia's name. They do not have wedding rings (redundant as those would be alongside the charm bracelets) and Akatsuki does not call Kudelia 'mom'. That they are raising him together is suggested very strongly, in line with Mikazuki asking Kudelia to be guardian of his child if he died. There are non-romantic ways of taking this idea, though, and none of these are closed off as viable interpretations.

But why should we expect some definite statement about romantic status when the point being conveyed is how Tekkadan's legacy continues to shape the world? This is a story concerned with the exploitation underpinning the world and the effort required to make even the smallest wide-scale change. It is about how people trapped at the bottom of the pecking order are still people, still human, messy and complex. It is about their pointless deaths, they ways they struggle on until those deaths come for them, and why they matter, even if the world forgets them.

Mikazuki, the living weapon, the human sacrifice for Orga Itsuka's reckless ambitions, leaves behind a child who will grow up in a more peaceful time, in a society slightly better off than when he and Orga were starving on Chyrse's streets. He doesn't live to see it; Akatsuki does. For all the failures, the attempt wasn't a waste. Don't you dare disrespect the people who died by saying it was.

This is where the epilogue centres, on Akatsuki and on Kudelia's cherishing of the world Mikazuki and everyone else built. Atra and Kudelia's relationship is there, a part of the gentler life they now have (Atra's desires were always towards the version of her existence where Mikazuki retires to a farm; here she fulfils the dream with Kudelia alone). It just doesn't need to take up space for the ending to land.

Yet, as I pour over how queerness is incorporated into Iron-Blooded Orphans, I find myself considering the struggles queer people face in reality. The victims of the AIDS crisis, dehumanised by indifferent institutions. Section 28 and the attempted destruction of knowledge around non-heterosexual forms of love. Riots and campaigns, voices raised loud and proud. How we are equated with dirt and corruption, reduced down to facts others find disgusting. The name-calling. The petty, pathetic posturing that makes everyday existence pointlessly harder.

So it goes for space-rats and degenerates alike.

I am lucky. My life is about as far from that of a child soldier as it is possible to get. My sexuality has been largely invisible. My gender matches the one most favoured by my society. I still have more common cause with those born in poverty on the other side of the world than I will ever have with the aristocrats and billionaires who shape the direction of my country. Because we hold many causes of misery in common. Because we share the same capacities for joy and suffering. Because our humanity is so easily cast aside by those we will never be able to touch.

There is always a place for stories uncomplicatedly about queer love conquering all. Equally, it is important to recognise the places queerness overlaps with stories about the many other ways the world casts people out. It is vital to be able to explore loss, futility and heartbreak. It is essential to capture why we strive onwards despite how heavily tragedy might weight us down.

We may be doomed. Our lives still matter. To ourselves, to each other and, whether they remember or not, to those who come after us.

So, no: for all the queer characters it contains and the many more we might trivially imagine queerness into, Iron-Blooded Orphans is not gay in the vein of The Witch From Mercury. It is not a happy story.

But it is a tenaciously hopeful one and, from certain angles, that alone looks queer as hell.

---------

Happy UK/US Pride Month – in honour and memory of Marsha P Johnson and everyone else who refused to go quietly.

I shall leave you with one of the least straight things ever to be included in any Gundam show.

[Index for further writing]

[avatar-saiki]

Ride the Cow Boy

Belphegor/reader, 6k words

Rating: NSFW

Summary:

Reader is not MC, but rather an ambitious sorcerer with dreams of furthering humanity's skills in sorcery and witchcraft.

By negotiating a contract to have a baby with the devil.

A curve here.

Strikethrough there.

Two lines that must be parallel with those within the rune exactly 153 degrees away within the circle.

You sat back on your heels, subconsciously wiping sweat from your brow while checking your work.

Moonlight streamed in through the warehouse window up above, illuminating the dusty outlines and giving what was simple chalk an air of…

The chill that ran down your spine stopped the thought before it could finish.

“Okay.” 

You slipped the chalk into your pocket, taking comfort in the sight of the mist of your breath. No matter how unnatural this moment might become, this was still your reality.

One had to remember that, especially when attempting to summon a higher tier demon.

The Demon Lord might be asleep, but over the most recent generations of humanity, demonic activity had begun to change.

“So then I just need…”

It was still bizarre to imagine let alone witness the exchange of students across Three Realms of existence. 

You lit a match and set the incense down between yourself and the sigil of the chosen demon’s house.

After one last flick through your notes, you breathed out one last hesitation and began the spell.

So bizarre, in fact.

Light began to crackle across the chalk and your voice faltered for half a syllable. 

Keep the cadence.

You’d already triple-checked your work.

You closed your eyes and focused on finishing the last verse, uttering the last word with the utmost reverence and respect for its original caster.

So far humanity had come…

Even the great Solomon had conquered death.

So…

If theory held… 

“Ugh.…”

You lifted your head to find a young man laying on the floor within the circle.

“Where am I?” 

His long tail swept across the floor as he moved to sit up and roll his neck.

Holy shit it worked.

You dropped to your knees and leafed through your notes again to make sure. Higher tiered demons could take on many forms, often humanoid or-

“Hey.”

His flat tone drew your attention, and you found him tapping on the barrier, each tap reverberating throughout its membrane like a bubble that might burst.

“Hey yourself,” you said, standing up and dusting yourself off. “Quit doing that. It won’t pop.”

He smirked and looked up, clearly able to see more of it than you could from the way his expressions shifted with it. 

“It might.”

Doubt was one way to weaken a sorcerer’s spells.

“Nice try,” you said and crossed your arms, looking him square in the eyes. “I know the spell’s sound. Even if we make no agreement, you’re not getting out.”

“Ahhh…” He sighed heavily and sat on the floor, showing you precisely why you’d chosen the Avatar of Sloth.

“You sound like you know what you’re doing.”

“If I didn’t, would I have tried summoning you?”

He crossed his legs and leaned forward, looking up at you with a patronizing tone.

“Do you think everyone thinks that way?”

“I… well they should!”

He shrugged and swept his tail around again, the barrier crackling as he tested its lower edge.

“If I assume that, I miss the opportunities where they don’t~”

Fair enough.

You sat down across from him, willing to entertain him.

“And Diavolo’s treaty?”

He shrugged. “If you’re aware of it, then you’re also aware I’m only expected to follow it however much you believe I will.”

Another fair point.

“Well, who’s to say I don’t believe you’ll obey your master to the letter?”

His expression soured considerably. “That might be true, but Diavolo is not my master.”

“Isn’t he the one leading while the Demon King sleeps?”

He snorted and held his chin in his hand, waving you off. “If that’s your reasoning, you’re nowhere near the experience needed to be summoning me.”

Indignation heated in your face and you leaned forward.

“I’ll have you know I’m—“

The sudden raise in his brow was enough to shut you right up.

Don’t divulge more than you have to.

“Anyway, you’re Belphegor, right? Avatar of Sloth?”

He nodded with a sigh, closing his eyes again.

“Okay, you and I both know you’d rather be anywhere but here, right?” Another nod. “Good, then I’ll make this quick. I summoned you because I’m interested in furthering humanity’s magical abilities in sorcery.”

“Ugh, that sounds like so much work…” he groaned and let himself fall back. “Just send me back, there’s nothing I want.”

The heat within your cheeks returned, but for a new reason entirely.

“It’s nothing that should take more than a week.”

“Ah~ at least now I know it’s stupidity, not ambition.”

You bit your tongue, ignoring the bait.

“It should be easy, especially for someone like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You bowed your head to hide the smile, delighted he’d taken yours.

“You don’t even have to do that much really, and if you say no I’ll just summon someone else and ask them.”

He sat up on his elbow, staring hard at you for a moment. Then he sighed and tilted his head.

“Fine, I’ll hear it.”

You straightened up, locking your gaze with his violet eyes.

Just like you’d rehearsed, short and simple.

“I want to try to further humanity, by having a baby with a devil.”

His eyes flashed, betraying the interest that lay unspoken in his voice.

“Oh… that sounds almost… blasphemous~”

Hold your ground.

“Not at all. It’s happened before, hasn’t it?”

He tilted his head to the side, intrigued. 

“Is that what you think?”

You nodded. “Absolutely. It only makes sense. How else could we have any use of magic at all?”

“Well maybe your species just worked super duper hard~” he drawled sarcastically, “You know, hard work pays off and all that nonsense.”

“Even if that may be true, the probability alone suggests—“

“Look,” he interrupted, leering at you with a smirk. “I don’t really care what reasons you have, it won’t sway me in the slightest.”

You drew yourself up, standing firm. Fine. May as well just cut to the chase then.

“That’s what I want. One week of your time to further this goal. What would I have to give you in return?”

He sighed and shook his head, “I already told you, I don’t want anything.”

“Really?” You drew yourself up on your knees, “I’m pretty confident I could get you just about anything as trade.”

He closed his eyes, saying nothing.

Doing nothing.

Honestly, you thought he might’ve fallen asleep if his tail didn’t occasionally thump on the floor.

“As long as it’s within the treaty.”

He tsked and thumped his tail again. 

Frustrated, maybe?

You sat back on your heels, feeling a little uncertain.

“If it’s really not something you’ll consider, I can ask—“

“Why’d you summon me?” he asked, opening his eyes to watch you carefully. “If you want powerful offspring, wouldn’t Lucifer make more sense?”

The Avatar of Pride? No way.

“I mean… I thought about it…” you admitted, slouching a little. He definitely wouldn’t be as easy to appeal to. 

“He’d refuse,” he said, something… off about how flat his voice fell on your ears.

“… and I take it you are too?”

It was a small disappointment, but not a total loss. The Avatar of Sloth might’ve been the most approachable, but you still had many others you could ask.

You turned to extinguish the incense and recover your notebook to refresh your memory of the dismissal spell. 

“Well, thanks for hearing me out,” you said, finding the proper page and reading the verses. “I’ll send you back in just a minute.”

He said nothing, just stared at the smoke slowly rising and disappearing in the dusty moonlight overhead.

It was a strange request, you knew that. Far unlikely you’d find any to agree to it, and even then the risk was still high. Belphegor’s words had reminded you just how chaotic each and every demon had the potential to be.

A treaty was only worth what one believed.

Even so, the treaty worked two ways.

You inhaled a breath, ready to begin the dismissal when he spoke again.

“You’ll give me anything?”

You faltered, holding the book tight.

“Anything in my power to give, yes.”

He smiled subtly. 

“Good answer… mm…”

He went quiet again, letting the silence stretch long enough for you to wonder if he’d even considered it at all.

Again, you looked down at the page and mouthed out the first few syllables when he spoke.

“I want a month.”

Startled, you looked at him again.

“You what?”

He lifted his head, humor dry.

“I gave you my price, don’t be rude and ignore it.”

You bit your tongue and lowered the book.

“A month of what? My life?”

He rolled his eyes and stood up slowly.

“No, that’s way too short. I want a month. Here. To stay.”

“Here? In the human realm?” 

He nodded again and clasped his hands together, pointing at you with his first two fingers. 

“I want to be able to do whatever I want and move freely too.”

A demon, not just any demon but an Avatar roaming freely under your name?

You shook your head, “That’s way too much!”

He sighed and shrugged, “Well, then you’ll have to find someone else willing to hear your request. I won’t make this offer again.”

You cursed inwardly. There was a chance you might find another demon who was willing to barter… but a chance you wouldn’t either. The further down the line you traveled could affect just how powerful your child could become too…

If it wasn’t with him, the odds you’d be able to negotiate with any over Avatar were even more abysmal.

“You can’t hurt me or anyone else,” you said, “and no other contracts while you fulfill mine.”

He nodded, sounding bored. “Yes, yes. I’ll abide by the treaty as far as you understand it.”

“It has to be at least once per day for the week.”

He tilted his head in thought. “If you give me two months, I’ll do it for two of your cycles.”

You felt your face heat despite the want to remain firm.

“A month and a half.”

He smirked. “I’ll need money.”

“I’ll give you what I can afford each day you go out.”

“I’ll need food.”

“You’ll be fed.”

His eyes glimmered.

“Somewhere to sleep.”

“I’ll take care of that too.”

“Mm…”

He slipped his hands in his pockets and looked up at the moon, his silhouette playing an unnerving sense of innocence upon the mind despite the power that was restricted within the summoning circle.

He gazed down at you again, eyes alight and unreadable.

“I accept your terms then, human.”

-----------------------------------

“Is this really where you live?” The demon asked, wandering into the small kitchenette and riffling through the random assortment of papers on the counter.

“Yes, I- Hey, don’t touch that!”

He held up his hands and stepped back. “I was only curious.”

You gave him a withering look and shut the door, locking it out of habit.

“Oo~ smart move. Lock the door to keep all the bad things outside.” He hugged himself, adopting a falsetto tone. “I feel so safe now.”

“Ugh.” 

You ignored him and set about putting your things away while your thoughts muddled about. This… you’d thought about this so thoroughly, but now you felt like you might be underprepared. Was it the part where he altered his appearance to pass off as a human in his early twenties or the fact he fell asleep on the bus ride and you basically had to drag him out at your stop?

The mere fact you had such a powerful demon in your apartment perusing through your junk mail and bills was…

Well.

It’s not like you had any right to feel weird about this, considering what you’d summoned him for.

You sighed and passed the bathroom with a quick glance in the mirror, not that it mattered how you looked. This wasn’t one of those kind of hookups.

“Okay, you- hey!”

“You should really pay your phone bill,” he said, leaning over the counter without shame, said bill in his hand. “All this red text makes it seem like they’re mad about it.”

You let out a frustrated sigh and strode over to snatch it from him. “I said don’t touch.”

He smirked and shrugged, “I wouldn’t be too embarrassed about it. My brother gets those all the time. You could try burning it? That’s what he does.”

“Yeah well, if that actually did anything I might,” you said, shoving it and many others like it in a drawer and slamming it shut. “You’re not allowed to open that.”

“Aw~ but how else am I supposed to know how behind you are paying the water and internet? Not to mention your grandpa Teri seems pretty concerned about you. Will you—“

“I was only gone for like two minutes, how much did you read?!”

He blinked and then shrugged. “Enough.”

For someone who didn’t want to know your reasons, he was nosy as fuck.

You sighed, feeling so, so tired. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. A child with a lower ranked demon could still be powerful, right? Still more so than a human child born of two magically gifted parents. 

Belphegor.

It was… strange watching him. He seemed to be taking in every part of your living space, the dishes in the sink, the small living room with a single couch and rug that didn’t match the carpet at all, and all the miscellaneous things you had no idea where to put away left on every inch of available counter space.

Maybe you should’ve cleaned up a bit more.

Ah fuck it. It’s not like he cares and even if he did, you didn’t need his approval.

“So—“

“Before you start,” he interrupted, holding up a hand, “I have something important I need cleared up first.”

“Uh…” That threw you off a bit. “Okay, sure? What’s up?”

He nodded to the short hallway leading to your room, “This is a one bedroom, right?”

“Yeah.”

He leaned back with his elbows on the counter. “Okay, so where do I sleep?”

“The…” You blinked, mind blanking. “What?”

His eyes dulled and he sighed. 

“I said: where do I sleep?”

“Yeah, I heard you,” you said, recollecting yourself and gesturing for him to follow. “The couch pulls out into a bed. You can sleep here.”

“What?” He groaned and leaned on the back. “Seriously? Don’t you have anywhere else?”

Per the treaty, a demon can only accept what is given of the contractor.

“Nope,” you said, feeling smug. “You asked for somewhere to sleep and this is what I have to offer.”

He bowed his head, relenting easily with a resigned sigh. “Fine…”

And this was why you chose a demon of Sloth. Still deceptive and deadly, but motivations were lower than a demon of Pride or Greed. Envy was too risky, and Gluttony too… well you didn’t really have to imagine how easily things could end poorly for you there.

“I’ll go get you a pillow and some blankets,” you said, moving to walk around him.

“Wait.” 

He reached out and grabbed your arm, making your heart stop. Nothing but a simple hold to him, but your body instinctively knew there was no way to break from his grasp.

He stepped closer, eyes gazing into yours. “About our contract…”

“Sorry, you gotta sleep here. My bed is not available.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he murmured, leaning in to lower his voice. “But you said once per day during your cycle, right?”

“Y-Yeah…?” Your heart stuttered in your chest and you leaned back. “What of it?”

“Well…” He glanced at the clock on the wall, “There’s only about two hours left of today, and…”

It stopped when he looked at you again, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Your cycle’s active now, isn’t it?”

You glanced away. “I had no idea you could sense something like that.”

He laughed, letting you go. “You should assume we can sense everything, it’s better for you that way.”

Your face heated and you turned your back to him. “Noted.”

“So how did you want me to do it? Do you have some kind of system or something planned? You do know fertility is low cross dimensionally, right?”

“Yes, I know!” You turned back to face him and nearly jumped seeing him so close.

His expression turned smug and he tilted his head. “I do think all the science you humans have accomplished so far is impressive~ Fertilizing offspring outside the body and defying the nature that would keep one barren? No other creature in this realm can do that.”

Somehow the embarrassment wasn’t easing, but you remained calm.

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing to add,” he said, stepping back with a shrug. “You’re welcome to try that too, but I don’t think it’ll have the same effect.”

Yeah, and you didn’t have the equipment or finances to even try that option. Even if there had been someone in the sorcerer’s guild that could help you, doing so would only guarantee others following your lead to do the same.

And… selfishly…

You clenched your fists.

“So what do you suggest then?”

His eyes lidded, looking down at you with a sense of superiority.

“Don’t act like you didn’t think this far ahead now. Surely you knew what you were asking for when you summoned me.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, staring up at him. If he wanted shame, he wasn’t getting it.

“Follow me,” you said, turning to walk down the hall.

“Ooo~ sounds like someone’s bed just opened up.”

“Just for the contract. You’re still sleeping on the couch.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say~”

Ugh.

You rubbed your temples, wondering if the next month and a half with your new roommate would be enough penance for what you were about to do. As Belphegor had somewhat confirmed, this wouldn’t be the first time two dimensional beings bore a child, but it was still a temptation of Fate’s balance.

And if you were successful…

“Oh, now see this is more my style,” he said, walking straight into your room without an invitation and turning to fall back into your bed. “Mm~ needs more pillows though.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you muttered, shutting the door on reflex.

“Mm…” He hummed, all but sinking in further intentionally, “that’s not something I can do.”

You rolled your eyes and walked across the room to draw the curtains, blocking out the streetlight and darkening the room even further. After your eyes adjusted, you glanced at the demon that looked like nothing more than a young man laying in your bed, a contented smile on his face.

Seeming him like that… almost made you feel…

“… are you sure you’re okay with this?”

He shrugged, not bothering to open his eyes. “I wouldn’t have left the circle if I wasn’t.”

That was true enough.

You sighed and walked over to the side of the bed, unsure where to look. “So how do you want to do it then?”

“You’re the one that wants it,” he said, stretching his arms up overhead. “You figure it out.”

“Wh- you’re not going to help me at all?”

“No?” He peered at you with one eye open. “Why would I?”

You held your tongue, but he still smirked and closed his eyes again, shimming himself more comfortably into your bed. 

“You should hurry up though, the day’s almost over.”

“If you’re aspiring to be my worst encounter, you’ll have to try a lot harder,” you said, taking the hint and beginning to undress.

“Ah~ but I don’t want to try at all.”

You’d figured he was making some joke being the embodiment of Sloth, but no, he was serious. While you stripped down, he basically fell asleep.

Not the worst encounter so far, but definitely one of the most… interesting? Was interesting the right word to use here?

“Belphegor,” you whispered, shaking him awake. “Hey, wake up. You can’t sleep here, remember?”

“M’awake…” he slurred, “just tired…”

“You can go to bed after we’re done, but not yet.”

“Mmgh…”

He stretched and opened his eyes slowly, looking you over with a smirk.

“Too shy to take off your shirt?”

“No, just no reason to take it off.”

He laughed, “Fair enough, I get that.”

It was somewhat comforting he could laugh so easily. Maybe you really were the only one feeling awkward in your head.

Hell, this might not even be his first time doing something like this.

“So are you gonna…?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot.” He reached down and lifted his hips, only to withdraw a device from his pocket and lay down again. “I should text Beel and tell him it’ll be a while till I’m home.”

“Yeah, and maybe… you know.” You gestured at him with a raised brow.

He met your gaze briefly, then went back to tapping on the screen. “I’m here and willing, that’s about all I can do for you.”

“Oh come on!”

He rolled his eyes and gestured to himself. “You have opportunity once per day, whether you take it or not is up to you.”

A glare could only do so much when the target couldn’t be bothered to look up again.

You sighed and kneeled between his legs, rubbing up and down his thighs while you let the thoughts fade. Not the best, but still not the worst. Mostly just bizarre. 

Your palm ghosted over him, testing for any reaction and receiving none.

Again.

This time you felt along the shape of him, rubbing your palm down in gentle strokes once you’d found it.

He sighed quietly, stretched his arms up to rest above his head, and closed his eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep,” you said, feeling him begin to harden.

“I won’t…” 

You bit your lip, watching his face become so peaceful, his lips parted in soft breath.

He was almost-

No.

Now wasn’t the time to fall for a demon’s charms.

You unbuttoned his pants, checking again for any signs of discomfort before unzipping and pulling them down. A bit challenging with the deadweight he gave, but he did seem intent to stay true to his word and not try at all.

You stopped, lingering at the hem of his underwear and staring at the bulge forming. He looked human now, but… would his…?

“Getting shy now?”

You looked up, expecting to see those violet eyes upon you full of nothing but glee in your hesitation but no, they were still closed. The steady flow of his breathing made it seem as if he might still be asleep.

“No. Why? Are you?”

His nose wrinkled briefly.

“You’re just a human.”

You smirked, feeling emboldened. 

“You could still feel shy.”

“And you could continue wasting time all you like. Take too long and this’ll count as your one time for tomorrow.”

“Don’t get so grumpy.” You chided, tugging his underwear down and lifting out his cock. Huh. Looked like just about any other penis you’d seen.

Should’ve figured as much.

You didn’t have a lot of time, so you squirted on a healthy dose of lube and began to stroke him, again watching his expression. No response was… good, right? It wasn’t like it mattered, but you still didn’t want to hurt him…

Or yourself for that matter.

You reached down to touch yourself, rubbing slow circles and slathering lube all over your entrance. It’d been a while since you’d had sex and by the looks of him it’d be a tight fit.

“Okay, I’m going to start now.”

“Mhm,” he hummed, yawning a little. “Go ahead.”

Well that was a vote of confidence you’d never seen.

You sighed, mentally cursing yourself for your ambition for the third or fifth time this evening as you straddled over him and lined him up.

This was no different than theories of animals in nature seeking a strong mate for healthy offspring.

You braced your hand on his chest and bowed your head, lowering yourself down slowly and steeling your breath.

Healthy wasn’t enough, humanity needed power to change.

“Hh-“

You grit your teeth, stopping and letting yourself adjust to the pain of the stretch. It really had been a while…

“You’re not a virgin, are you?”

“Shut up.” You hissed through your teeth and he snickered.

“You’ll fuck me but I can’t talk? That’s hardly fair~”

You closed your eyes and willed yourself to push through it and sink down, nearly taking him in fully. It hurt, oh it hurt, but the grunt you heard almost made it worth it.

Seems no matter how smug this demon tried to be, you could still crack through the facade.

His cock throbbed, stealing the brief sense of pride as even the smallest twitch brought all your attention to muscles that had not yet fully stretched. A breath left through your teeth, shakier than before.

He chuckled, but said nothing.

Just ignore him. 

… as much as you can.

You reached down and spread your fingers around him, massaging your outer lips to soothe the ache until each throb soon became a steady, bearable pulse.

Better.

You breathed out slowly, lifting your hips up and taking your time to feel the pull before sinking down once more.

This was better.

Touching yourself brought comfort, and you closed your eyes to find your rhythm and lose yourself in it.

No thoughts.

No stress.

Just…

You breathed out a quiet sigh, moving your hands to rest on the bed and deepening the rolls of your hips, riding the push and pull along his length. Using it to loosen yourself up.

It’d been so long…

You leaned forward to rest on your elbows, moaning under your breath when his cock rubbed just right inside.

This was the good kind of hurt. The stretch that felt so full and tight around what it held. It was almost enough to…

You moaned and rolled your hips into him, letting yourself sink further until it was just beginning to feel too much and rolling back again. Once more. And again.

Fuck.

You bowed your head over his chest, heat rising in your core and surrounding his cock in selfish, wet desire.

“Mmhuh…”

You laid your head down on him and reached down to tease just beside your clit, moaning with your cheek on his chest as you fucked yourself with him.

Fuck, it felt s-

Your breathing hitched and you sank down lower, rutting against him with a whine and cumming far sooner than you’d meant to.

But it had been… so long… since you’d had a good encounter.

The fact he’d stayed hard this whole time was a miracle in its own right.

You laid there, content to let yourself feel somewhat dazed and happy, nearly forgetting just who was laying beneath you.

Until he spoke.

“Was that it?”

You tensed, heat rushing to your face as you reluctantly lifted your head. 

“Excuse me?”

His eyes were open now, watching you with an eerie glow.

“I’m just asking if that was it. Is that all you can do?”

The little-

Is that all you can do.

Tch.

You sat up and placed your hands on his stomach.

“You know this would be easier if you did something,” you said, starting to rock your hips again.

He laughed lightly and shook his head.

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

You scowled at his stupid sleepy face, his eyes already drifting closed again.

“You’re really going to do the absolute bare minimum aren’t you?”

He nodded shamelessly, only adding fuel to your fire.

Maybe arguing with Pride would’ve been a better idea after all.

Whatever.

You set your gaze on his chest, ignoring him and harnessing the frustration he was trying to build to use it against him.

This stupid smug ass demon was going to cum.

Now that you’d become more adjusted, the awareness of your body made it easier to ride him and feel how his cock moved within you with every roll. 

Deep. 

Long.  

Slow.

You heard his breath hitch and bit back a grin, sitting up to change the angle and rise up higher until just the head remained inside.

Then you sank down nice and slow~

His brow twitched and you couldn’t hide the grin that time.

Again you lifted yourself up, waited, then sank down once more.

The condescending little prick could act nonchalant all he wanted, but you saw those lips part to let out a heady breath.

You reached down to touch your clit, unable to look away from his faux sleeping expression as you rose up only to slide down again, feeling every. Little. Twitch.

Words bubbled up in your throat, wanting to be spoken but dissolving into hushed mewls as your cunt began to feel warm around him once more.

You dropped your hands back onto the bed, moving in a faster rut as you’d done so many times before. Always so effective. It was so easy to make them cum with—

“Are your hips getting tired?”

“I- wha?” You blinked, losing your rhythm with the sudden question.

His eyes were alight again, that smirk slowly imprinting itself to your memory.

“You’re moving a lot… do you feel tired yet?”

Why did it seem like he was mocking you again?

“Well usually it’s not just me moving.”

He laughed, “Right, right. I figured that.”

You squinted at him. “You’re not holding it in on purpose or something, are you?”

He shook his head with a tired sigh. 

“No…I just wanna go to sleep and you’re taking a really, really long time.”

“Well like I said, it’d go a lot quicker if you’d help me.”

He sighed and looked across the room. “If I do, you’ll expect me to help again next time and I don’t want to do that.”

“Then you have no right to complain!”

He glanced back at you again, his expression a mixture of innocence and mystery.

“You really want my help?”

“Yes,” you said without thinking, already exasperated at this point.

He chuckled and shimmed himself even further into your bed.

“Okay. Give me your bed and I’ll help.”

“No,” you said flatly. If you let a demon take an inch, they’d take your soul. “You get the couch.”

“I don’t wanna sleep on the couch… the bed’s so comfy…” he said with a small pout, his eyes drifting shut.

“Oh no, don’t you dare fall asleep!”

“But you’re taking so long…”

You scowled, fighting every urge inside to not just grab this little fucker and-

Stay calm.

You breathed out slowly and considered your options. Whether he was being difficult on purpose or not was irrelevant, either way it seemed he wasn’t going to be as easy of a lay as you’d expected. And your hips were starting to feel a little sore.

If he wouldn’t move without incentive…

“What if…” 

His head tilted slightly, listening.

“What if I let you have the bed for each night you help me?”

That seemed fair, right?

“So… if I fuck you, I get to sleep in your bed?” 

“Only for that night.”

He thought it over and looked up at you through his lashes.

“Alright, that sounds fair.”

“Cool, you wanna shake on it o-or—“

He grabbed your arms and sat up on his elbows, gazing at you with the haughtiest expression you’d ever seen as sparks of violet and deep purples began to crackle in his hair.

“W-Wait a second—“ You leaned back instinctively, watching as horns began to spiral outward from his temples, his aura filling the air with an oppressive energy so thick it was hard to breathe.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 

His tail whipped up and wrapped around your body, pinning your arms to your sides.

“I-I said you can’t hurt me.”

He grinned and laid back again, resting his arms behind his head.

“I’m aware~” he said, tail winding tighter. “You said you wanted help.”

You tested for any sort of give and found none.

“I don’t see how this helps.”

“No?” His eyes flashed with amusement and he lifted you slowly, then thrust you back down against his pelvis with a wet slap that sent a shudder rippling from your core up your spine. “Really?”

Something felt… different.

His cock pulsed, drawing your attention inward. Into this… feeling.

It… it was… wasn’t moving exactly, but the shape of it-

“You humans can be so stupid, it’s almost sad.” 

His tail squeezed tighter, lifting you with ease and slapping you down again.

Was it…

Again.

Whatever it was, it hit just-

“Did you really think your plan was something original?”

“N-No, I-“

Again.

Your back arched and you breathed out through your teeth, determined to not cum again until he finished.

“Hnn~” He hummed, the end of his tail curving around and feathering across your stomach. “I’m surprised you could be so brazen…”

You chanced a glance down at him, questioning without speaking a word.

His grin widened and his tail held fast, lifting and lowering you down on him as if you were nothing more than a toy.

“I don’t care what your reason is,” he said, a sadistic lust spreading across his face as he watched you pant and whine. “You can pretend to be some hero all you like~ but you and I both know…” It was…

Too much…

The way it moved with every pulse.

“Beh… Bel…”

His grin widened and he pulled you down, pushing himself even further inside. Your walls quivered and your eyes rolled, unable to process just whatthis feeling was.

“You’re just looking for a stud~”

“N-Nn-“

“Shut up,” he purred, his pace relentless as he used you to chase his pleasure.

You’d never-

Been-

“F-hah-“

He moaned, his tail constricting around your hips and rocking you against him, using your orgasm to milk himself as warmth blossomed deep within your core. So, so deeply you were already on the edge of another when he pulled you in close, wrapping his tail around so tight as his body locked.

One last throb up his length, making it flex inside you as he buried his seed deep inside.

Then, just as quickly as he’d bound you, his tail relaxed and began to unwind. You fell forward without the added support, just catching yourself on his chest in a breathless gasp.

“Mm…” He turned his head to the side, eyes already drifting shut. “You can stay there for a minute or two… but then get off of me. I want to sleep.”

“What… What the fuck was that?” you murmured, watching as his demonic features began to fade.

He said nothing, as expected.

“Hey.” You bounced your palms on his chest, shaking him. “Hey, Belphegor. Did you really fall asleep?”

Nothing but an idle snore answered you, and you sighed.

Well…

You looked down at yourself, feeling sore, sticky, and tired.

Dammit, he gets the bed tonight.

You sighed and lifted your hips up, wincing a little and clapping your hand over yourself to soothe the ache. He made no effort, no sign he was even conscious as you carefully climbed over him and caught yourself on wobbly legs. 

Once again, he appeared like nothing more than a young man….

You shook the thought away and gingerly tiptoed your way out of your room to find some spare blankets and pillows, holding your hand over yourself to keep it but his cum began to dribble out, spilling between your fingers.

You sighed and went to the bathroom instead to clean up, knowing that just one night wasn’t likely for it to take anyway, and if sacrificing a few nights in your bed would get you what you needed, so be it.

‘You’re just looking for a stud~’

You banished the thought as heat kissed your face yet again.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you muttered, flicking off the light and opting to just lay on the couch tonight. The morning could be for setting things up properly. Or the next day.

For now, you just wanted to sleep.

And not think about the violet eyes peering into your dreams.

[madames-playpen]

Paint It Black || Pt. 1

Fandom: Squid Game

Pairing: Front Man x Fem!Reader <Number Thirty-Four>

Remember how I mentioned getting inspired by the realistic art pieces in the VIP room? Yup. Just Yup. I was supposed to writing Salesman, but got... distracted. And this turned into a multi-parter. Reader is fem since I don’t remember seeing any male statues. Reminder: I am taking requests/prompts this month.

Summary: You, a worker, are chosen along with many others for a special assignment. It's either comply or die. You find a way to make your displeasure known.

CW: Strip Tease. Dubious Consent. Power Dynamics. Slightly Bratty Sub. Dom Front Man.

This was humiliating.  You wouldn’t have been so compliant when the manager called your number amongst many others for a special assignment if you had known what that assignment would turn out to be.  You and your fellow workers had been plucked during head counts and led single file to a section of the facility that was walled in gold, black panels, and chrome.  It radiated money.  A stark contrast to the whimsical pastels of the sections you had become accustomed to.

Another manager with his own herd of workers met them at a pair of twin doors and the two pushed the doors open, waving them in.  Stepping in, your eyes widened at the extravagant and unique decor of the room.  Between the mostly tropical plants, gaudy furniture, and… was that velvet?  Animal prints?  The whole room made you think of someone with too much money and too much time and no shame.  At least the stairs are pretty.

Soon enough, you stood at the bottom in neat files with the others.  The managers that had guided you thus far weren’t the last down the stairs as a pair of guards followed, stopping short halfway down the stairs.  Triangle marked masks tilted just so and weapons held at rest.  The message was clear.  The guards were there to keep an eye on them.  

Back straightening, you turned back to the front of the room as someone cleared their throat.  The managers stood on a raised section of flooring.  The one on the left stood silent, that white square seeming to stare them down, while the other addressed them.

“As all of you are aware, you were chosen for a special assignment,” he started, voice even and clear.  He flashed a slip of paper and while what was written on it was too small to read from where you stood, he didn’t leave you in mystery.  “You were not selected randomly.”  

Oh, those were your numbers then.  But what could have been the criteria for selection?  This facility, this place, was all about giving everyone a fair chance.  Hell, their rankings had been randomly doled out.  You weren’t the only one reeling over his words.  When you turned your head to look at those around you, you could see others doing the same, but much more subtly than you.  The same domed black matte mask with a white circle, same boots, same gloves, same pink jumpsuit, and black harness was all you could see.  

Was it a special skill then?  Something in your files?  Backgrounds? 

“He has decided this room needs a special touch.  We have very important guests arriving later today and this room needs to be perfect to satisfy them.”  

You knew for a fact that you had specialization in interior design and they did not want your touch.  This whole room needed a complete turnover to move it from looking like a modern art exhibit.  Or maybe they just needed extra hands?  You couldn’t see anything that looked too unfinished, except for some oddly empty spaces here and there.  Did they need a speed cleaning then?  No, they could have plucked anyone for that job.

“All of you will be that finishing touch.”

What?  What did that mean? No one was being subtle anymore as you all turned to each other with a questioning air before turning to the new voice that cut through the air.

“You will be living statues,” the Front Man stood at the top of the staircase.  His one of a kind, low poly black mask and trench coat swallowed up whatever light touched him.   

“Living… statues?” someone parroted.

“Sixty-nine, remember that you are not to speak unless permitted by a superior,” the manager who had been silent up till now reprimanded curtly.  The chastised worker apologized with stiff shoulders.  

You bit your own tongue and settled for once again scoping out your fellow workers.  It finally clicked as you noticed one detail that was shared between all of you.  Looking down at your own harness bound chest and then at your coworkers before finally facing forward as your mind blared: you were all women.  While the harnesses weren’t skin tight or constricting, if you were paying attention you could see how the middle strap dipped and the pink fabric either side were raised.  

“Your job is simple.  Act as decoration does.  Something pretty or intriguing to look at,” the Front Man elaborated.  

You wanted to speak, to call him out on leaving out an important detail.  Your current attire did not fit the feng shui.  

Two more people stepped out from behind the poly masked man.  They wore masks just like anyone else in place, but theirs were half black and half white, a reflection of each other.  In their arms were what appeared to be folded tarps.   “These two have been brought in to prepare each of you for your roll,” he didn’t say anything more on the two, no names, no numbers, no titles.  Most likely they were only here for this one task.  “Now, strip.”

The order had different reactions.  Most froze, stunned and shocked.  Some, brave or dumb, vocalized their disgust and refute.  The odd one or two actually started removing their clothes, starting with the harness.  You were among those who stood silent and unmoving, masks turned towards the Front Man.  

The rowdier ones were silenced as the unmistakable sound of a gun being primed and metal scraping along fabric reached their ears.  Cowed, they all knew there would be no hesitation to kill any of them.  

“You have two minutes to fully undress.  Mask and undergarments included.”  This order had you wondering if it was a trap.  Anonymity was important in this place.  It was a rule that they never expose their identity.  Was it a test? Those around you had started undressing, but leaving their masks for last. 

You still hadn’t moved and slowly the Front Man tilted his facade towards you.  It was a silent staredown and pettily you kept it up as you finally began stripping your own uniform.  If you resisted, you would be shot down.  If you did as told, it was a fifty-fifty chance to come out alive.  But so long as you were doing as ordered, you could get away with some attitude and get across your displeasure with this whole ordeal. 

 It was thrilling staring danger down.  You’d started with your gloves, rather than the harness or boots like the others.  Reaching up and pushing up the bottom of your mask until your mouth was exposed so you could bite and pull them off.  It wasn’t anything slow or elegant.  The bite was harsh and angry, the gloves spat aside.  Boots followed, kicked away carelessly.  Harness unclipped and shrugged off.  

When your fingers touched the zipper of your jumper after pushing back the hood, the Front Man fully turned towards you.  It felt like he was challenging you to continue.  Taunting that you’d slip up since under that full coverage garment wasn’t much other than your undershirt, bra, and panties.  Straightening up, you practically ripped the zipper down your torso and you were pretty sure everyone  else heard the loud release of the metal teeth.  One more shrug and pink fabric was falling off your womanly figure, catching a moment at your hips, but that was resolved swiftly with a foot on the hem to tug it down.  

You could feel more than just his eyes on you now.  You yanked your tank top up over your head and threw it aside along with any apprehension and regret that tried to sink its claws into you.  That left you in your mask, bra, and panties.  

“Sixty seconds left, Thirty-Four,” he mockingly tapped his wrist, having taken a single step down.  

Confirmation that his attention was solely on you had an unexpected, but not unwelcome effect.  A hot pulse in your core.  Taking a breath, you thanked whatever deity was watching over you that you had chosen to wear a front clasp.  It made it quick and simple to remove your bra.  Your breasts slipping from the soft cups and nipples pebbling in the chilly air of the room.  

You could hear someone curse and just barely stifled a snicker at their expense.  It wasn’t like there were several other pairs to gawk at.

“Forty…” Oh, how to make the most of this last piece.  It was a fight to keep your lips set in a neutral line as you turned, never breaking your staredown as you kept an eye on the Front Man over your shoulder.  

“Thirty-five,” Oh, he was really gonna keep counting?  You were determined to take what time you could afford this round.  Hooking a finger of each hand on either side of your panties before dragging them down your legs, bending at the hips with them until you were surely giving the big man and his two lackies, plus those guards, a nice view of not only your plush ass, but your pussy as well.  To top it off, you added a little wiggle, just enough to make the fat of your ass and thighs sway.  

“Ten…” You almost broke realizing he had forgotten to keep up his count and his voice, it was just barely noticeable, but there was a strain.  No, what was more obvious was the clenching of his hands down by his thighs.  Releasing the cotton to let it join the pile of building fabric at your feet, you righted yourself with an exaggerated roll.  

“Three.”  You reached for the clasp on your mask. “Two.”  Release and lift.  “One.”  Fresh air kissed your face after hours of being hidden away.  Your vision was clear of the netting and though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his gaze heavy on your back.  One last lingering stare with a poker face begging to break before turning away.  

Tension didn’t break.  No, your being was burning from the weight of the gazes on you, not only from the Front Man, but the other masked individuals.  The women around you though… some stared in awe, disgust, and some rightly in fear as they glanced from the peak of the stairs to you and back. 

It was a manager who spoke up to get things moving along, “Thank you… for cooperating.  Your clothes will be collected and stored away until your assignment is completed.  They will be returned then.”  Black masked individuals in neat pants and skirt suits filed in.  They wasted little time collecting the discarded clothing and you stepped out the way for the young woman scooping up your own.  They didn’t bat an eye or spare a glance.  Just as swiftly as they had entered, they were gone.     

The managers nodded once the sweep was done and soon enough, the pair in the black and white masks descended.  They began laying out the tarps and ushering all of you to stand on the crinkly material.  Meanwhile, a third guard pushed in a cart with what looked like paints and brushes from a side door.  

Ah… you could see where this was going.  It was silent except for the crinkle of tarp under foot and initial gasps as cold paint first contacted bare skin as prep got underway.  With only two artists, you could now understand why they had all of you here so early to get ready.  A shiver raced down your spine as the chill in the room really started to sink in.  

Gloved hands gripped your upper arms just before you could try to relieve yourself of the cold.  “Thirty-Four,” the Front Man’s modulated, monotone voice was right next to your ear, making you shiver for a whole different reason. 

“Front Man,” you replied, mimicking his flat delivery.  He actually chuckled.  It was too low for the others to hear, but clear as day for you.

He was quiet for a moment and you wondered what he was keeping from saying.  “Do not push your luck,” he warned, “There isn’t much of that around here for you to be wasting it.”  You wanted to say something smart.  Push his buttons, but the threat of death stilled your tongue.  

Your silence was answer enough as moments later his hands dropped from your arms, fingers skimming down your arms.  It was difficult to tell if it had been on purpose.  In a swish of black fabric, he stepped around you and approached the supply cart.  You watched him curiously as he sifted through the different paints and brushes.  Soon enough, he had three small cans hanging from the fingers of one hand and a small collection of brushes in the other.  

The Front Man didn’t have to announce or explain his intentions when he walked back to you, supplies in hand.  Was this allowed?  Your eyes darted around and you could see the others glance your way before turning right back to their own tasks and business.  Right, this was the man with a ranking only just below the mysterious “He” who was in charge.  

A short surprised gasp jumped from your lips as something soft pressed against the hard peak of your breast.  You didn’t have to look down to know it was the bristles of a brush.  Instead, your eyes locked on that one of a kind mask.  

“You will be in my care, Thirty-Four,” he informed.  Something must have nagged at him before he soon added, “Do you consent?”  

Was it some internal moral code?  Or was it another of the many rules of this place?  He could just do it.  It had been made obvious no one in this room would tattle.  That warm pulse was back and heat pooled in your belly, reigniting that spiteful confidence from only a couple minutes before.  

“Yes,” you hoped your face was blank enough, “I do consent.”

NEXT PART

[astrolovecosmos]

Neptune: Deep Dive

Pink petals

fallen onto

night shaded

waters.

Nothing is ever as it seems.

Wood turned to metal.

Reality turned to dreams.

-Natasha Reeves 

The planet Neptune I think is most famous for two things - illusions and dreamy or ethereal associations. A lot of negativity is also commonly associated such as addiction, insanity, guilt, sorrow, denial, and doubt. This planet is complex and just like all the other planets has a huge array of associations. What prompted me to do a deep dive in Neptune? Well for one I’ve been going through the transit of Neptune in Pisces crossing over my IC which has been powerful and I am at the end of my progressed Moon in the 12th House. Also in my own chart I’ve been paying more attention to my natal Neptune placements... which are a lot more prominent and worthy of my attention than I’ve understood and noticed in the past. Honestly I spend a lot more time analyzing others’ charts vs. my own, and I really should have looked more closely at some of my own aspects. I have had a LOT of experience with Pisces influences throughout my life, intense ones. I want to make it clear that Pisces DOES NOT = Neptune. I’ve always wanted to write a whole essay about my experience as a Pisces friend, lover, family member, enemy, etc. An outsiders opinion but that isn’t this. This is a disclaimer because this is going to be both theory and my own experiences. This is a deep dive. 

The Sea’s Love and Wrath 

Neptune in a lot of mainstream media is described as gentle but this planet can be unpredictable and harsh, with erratic energy that could rival Uranus. Neptune can be about tolerance and kindness, seeing past the ego and material. Neptune can embody or promote unconditional love and forgiveness. Because Neptune can be about dissolving and merging this planet allows us to see ourselves in others, maybe even in everyone allowing for compassion, empathy, and the ability to love very freely and openly. But the illusion and deception of Neptune is its shadow. 

Romanticizing and idealizing can be one of Neptune’s downfalls. Many times this is described as putting other’s on a pedestal but this can be applied to any area of life from work to places to ideals. From this those with strong Neptune aspects or prominent placements can find that disappointment is a frequent visitor. Neptune square, opposite, or conjunct Venus can quickly fall for others, trust others, and gravitates towards those they want to help or who have a strong personality they can meld with. Neptune opposite or square Mercury may face the frustration and disappointment of frequently being misunderstood or finding that they easily misread others or trust their words. After feeling tricked there can be wrath to these oceanic bodies. 

Where will their vengeance or anger land? It isn’t fair if they idolize you to get mad at you... sometimes their anger is self-loathing and self-destructive, other times they take you down with them. But the lesson is that Neptune can be as soft and as dangerous as the sea. 

Enlightenment and Madness

Coming down from the high, was getting lost in Neptune’s blue. Dreams and visions dancing in the back of my mind, when reality is so hard to chew. Sensation used to distract and pieces of stories stitched together to where nothing is fact.- Natasha Reeves 

There are many influences that can grant us wisdom or enlightenment throughout astrology, but I don’t see too many writings or posts about Neptune and its connection to enlightenment, nirvana, or eurekas and on the flipside also insanity and denial. Neptune can pull away the fog to give us clarity - especially when looking at the whole of things, the big picture. Neptune can famously also be the fog. 

The transit of Neptune crossing over my IC/4th House brought a lot of light to my childhood and how I was raised. However my IC is in Pisces, while Pisces isn’t the same as the planet, and many astrologers believe Neptune is not the ruling planet of Pisces - it is a sign known for illusions, confusion, and vagueness much like Neptune. I came from a place of a lot of secretiveness and vagueness, but when the “planet of illusions” crossed over I found myself accepting the instability and moments I felt lost or clueless in my life as well as looking back with remembering and understanding. 

Neptune can represent the part of us that is hard to grasp and understand, it also faces us with the idea that it is okay to have unanswered questions, to not have closure, that many times we have to create that closure or solidity ourselves. Neptune much like Jupiter is a matter of faith whether in ourselves or a higher power. 

It should be noted Neptune doesn’t always mean outside sources. Neptune is an introverted, intimate actor. It can represent how we lie to ourselves, trick ourselves, or how we push responsibility off of ourselves. Neptune also allows us to see, understand, more importantly feel what we easily ignore or can’t see. 

Life’s Extremes - Our Extremes 

“Neptune moves between the greatest extremes: from the highest spiritual awareness through imagination, fantasy, and illusion, to the depths of deceptions and disillusionment. The planet of mysticism, glamour, and enchantment, Neptune exerts a hypotonic fascination.” - Judy Hall. 

When many think of extremes they probably think Pluto before Neptune. The blue sphere isn’t going to take away the icy orb’s reputation - Pluto holds tightly in terms of extremes, but Neptune is far from a level-headed, consistent influence. Let’s touch on fantasy and illusion - two things that tends to warn of foolishness or impracticality, but fantasy is part of everyone’s life, no matter how pragmatic or mature an individual claims to be. From coping to manifesting to understanding to enjoying, fantasy is a natural human thing. Think of how often you daydream in an hour, how many books, movies, and games you indulge in, how often you find yourself being tempted by gossip, and how often you find yourself painting a picture of another in your head - negative or positive. 

Neptune symbolizes the abstract, importance, and rawness of our fantasies. Individuals with prominent Neptune aspects can find themselves easily tapping into their imagination, falling into escapism frequently, or have a great use for their wild ideas. If you think of the subject of fantasies or illusion as an extreme - it makes sense. You aren’t going to get an interesting story without the gods and monsters. Our sleeping dreams often are filled with strangeness or strong emotions. Clarity to madness, hopeless romantic highs to deeply wounded sorrows, and dissolving/surrendering to becoming whole/complete are common extremes this planet centers around. 

I have Mercury Square Neptune which tends to make one doubtful of their own opinions and intellect, can increase misunderstandings, and make communication difficult for the individual. Mercury Square Neptune can make someone highly persuasive and deceptive but it can also make one easily confused, tricked, and manipulated by others. Rationality and intuition can conflict. One experience I have with this aspect is usually swinging from extremes to being very withdrawn and quiet to interrupting others, chatting away. I’ve been described by those in my life as always saying something they didn’t expect - few words but impactful or strange ones. This is an example of the more everyday way Neptune can present itself.

“Neptune-attuned people possess glamour in the old sense of the word: the ability to bewitch. They are also impossible to categorize or pin down, demonstrating the planet’s elusive quality. Lacking strong boundaries, Neptune-attuned people are susceptible to outside influences.” - Judy Hall. It is from these lack of boundaries and fluidness we see Neptune’s extremeness. Neptune aspects can have us take on the traits of others and there is intensity in that. Let’s say we are talking about a Neptune to Mercury aspect, here may be someone who is easily energized or put down by the mood of another. Neptune to Mars can create a volatile person who fights, guards, and pursues based on their inner circle. 

Alice: Imagination and Dreams 

Personally I tend to associate Alice in Wonderland with Gemini themes. But I’ve seen her used as a metaphor for many placements and influences, such as Scorpio and Pluto. Neptune’s lostness certainly relates to the character and story. Neptune can be the planet of dreams. Challenging aspects to Saturn indicates someone who struggles to get in touch with reality while easy aspects to Saturn indicates someone who can marry big dreams or imagination to practicality. 

Neptune to Moon aspects can indicate powerful dreaming - almost intuitive or helpful in processing stress or trauma. So does Neptune in the 12th, 4th, 8th, and possibly 9th. Neptune in the 2nd can mean imagination or even dreams themselves act as a resource, maybe this is through inspiration or increasing one’s belief or confidence. Neptune in the 3rd may find themselves always remembering their dreams and keeping a journal. Neptune in the 5th blessed with all of the fun dreams of flying or dreaming of a favorite fictional character. Neptune in the 6th or 10th may find strikes of inspiration, knowledge, problem solving, or important foresight in their sleep. Neptune in the 11th may find comfort or realize important information about self and/or society in their dreams. 

Neptune is a newer planet, many times called the visionary, healer, or spiritual link or messenger. Traditional astrologers can approach the planet with a lot of skepticism. Its exaltation is in creative Leo, detriment in practical Virgo, and fall in usually praised as “visionary” Aquarius. Neptune is still new enough to be a hot topic of debate. You will find many astrologers don’t even agree on the planet’s exaltation, fall, and detriment. Leo is considered one of the most creative sign and on the topic of imagination and dreams Neptune can feel amazing in this sign. It feels confident and shinning in its ideas, fantasies, and magic. Elusive and ever-changing Neptune doesn’t feel comfortable in stable and structured Virgo. But Aquarius is an unexpected challenge for Neptune. Aquarius is about collective action - unity that Neptune also is familiar with. But Aquarius is a cold sign and despite its unconventional side can be highly practical and may dislike unrealistic ideas or approaches. Saturn is Aquarius’s co-ruler after all. Neptune wants oneness as in intimacy, not oneness in action or rebellion like Aquarius. Neptune is the magical moonlit spring to heal all your wounds, especially the emotional and spiritual kind. Aquarius is the soul forge in Asgard from Thor: The Dark World or the hypospray in Star Trek. Aquarius is modern medicine most of the time and when Neptune is dressed in Aquarius’s colors at its best it is advanced medicine we don’t understand yet but are working towards. Neptune in Aquarius can be a genius, but it is about ambitious realism to help others, Neptune at its heart is about helping the individual on the most personal level. Aquarius is random strikes of lightning coming from an active mind while Neptune flows from one spot to another, always connected and coming from an original primal, emotional place. Aquarius is the future, Neptune is outside of time. Aquarius is intellect and Neptune emotions and intuition. Aquarius is rebellion, riot, revolution, Neptune is peace or death and rebirth - Aquarius is the noise and Neptune the silence. 

Some believe Neptune’s fall is in Capricorn, which the struggles exist with Capricorn’s strictness and clinging to reality and control. Neptune in Leo is Alice looking regal like a queen or warrior going to fight the jabberwock, Neptune in Virgo can get dark, feeling uncomfortable and maybe in pain, but still important and empowering. Alice in Aquarius or Capricorn is likely a totally new story, adult Alice putting away the tea parties and white rabbits for a lab coat or pantsuit. 

What about Healing and the Spiritual? 

Let’s get to what Neptune may be most known for. That otherworldly connection, the power of love, transcendence. Neptune is dramatic and it is soothing. Neptune embraces all aspects of the human experience so we can focus more on the soul. Neptune is all about healing and how healing can come in a million ways. It can be fast and hard or slow and revealing. It is painful and messy, it goes in cycles, loops, falls and rises. 

Neptune whether the aspects are easy or challenging, whether in a house focused on the self or others, it gives everyone ways to heal and to connect. As an outer planet it gives a lot of insight into generations but in the unique placement of one’s chart it touches us with humanity. 

Pretty speeches, enchanting metaphors, crazy nights, and charming lovers lead us to our doom and a raw poem, crying ourselves to sleep, old medicine, late night graveyard walks, and maybe a rebound help us pick up the pieces. Neptune many times shows us that the unexpected is what tears us down and what lifts us back up. It teaches us nothing is inherently bad like substances, manipulation, honesty, authority, it is how it is used. Neptune shows us that you are the hero to some and the villain to others. 

Regret, shame, guilt, feeling trapped, isolation, addiction, grief, and sorrow are closely linked to Neptune. I believe many times this is due to the healing process or spiritual associations of the planet. These emotions are heavy and life-changing but they are emotions that many times need to be faced with a lot of bravery and work. They are feelings that also help us come to realizations. Neptune is associated with rebirth and if you examine emotions like regret or shame, sometimes rebirth is the only way you can shed those feelings. Neptune’s fluid nature also allows us acceptance, which is needed to deal with such heavy emotions. 

While we always talk about the lack of boundaries as a dangerous or bad thing... and it can be, these lack of boundaries like I mentioned above can allow for a very giving love and empathy, it also allows us to feel or interact with a higher power, magic, and the spiritual. Whatever your beat is - religion, magic, or the belief we are just star stuff, Neptune symbolizes our relationship with it. 

[drzibs]

i am in a d&d funk so fuck it, llsmp people as d&d classes

The Southlands

Grian - Aarakocra Rogue

this is based on my love of grian designs with avian aspects, and how often he sneaks around the server to either steal shit or to gather intel for his own gain. hes chaotic good when on his green and yellow lives, but flips on a dime to chaotic evil when on his last life. like most designs go, he resembles the multicolored macaw parrot as far as plumage is concerned.

Mumbo Jumbo - Halfling Artificer

mans started hermitcraft season 7 as a halfling, hes gonna be one in my head whether he likes it or not. i think he’d be an artificer based on 1. how many traps hes considered over his short reign on the server, and the fact that he went out of his way to procure end crystals and make them his weapon of choice when he turned red. the man lacks good combat skills, but he knows at least ten different ways to take you out in a hands-off experience. like grian, definitely a chaotic good alignment on his green and yellow lives.

InTheLittleWood - Dwarf Warlock (Hexblade)

i cant really explain why, but i like to imagine martyn’s character with a dwarven build about him. Very wide square shoulders, a solid torso, wields a hammer as his weapon of choice (in my head anyways). and based on the way he edits his videos, i like to think hes attuned to his magical weapon, and as a by product hes formed a pact with the deep voice now rolling around in his head. its unclear who or what he’s made a deal with, but he doesnt seem to be the only one aware of its influence. i think he’s in the realm of neutral good to true neutral, but the voice often steers him off to do some questionable things.

ImpulseSV - Human Paladin

i was very torn about this one. impulse has an aura about him that gives me the vibes of either a human or possibly a firbolg, but ive decided that a human was a better fit based on his character skin. and because hes typically fairly selfless when it comes to his companions, the paladin class feels pretty suitable to me. hes not an outstanding pvper but he can hold his own, and i feel in a d&d setting he would go out of his way to keep his friends alive rather than to get a good swing in. i think maybe a neutral good alignment fits, as hes not really above stealing from other players to benefit his group.

SolidarityGaming - Half-Elf Wizard (Transmutation)

this man is extremely squishy - i mean, first out in both llsmp and 3lsmp? not to knock him down, but he gets himself into tight spots almost assuredly. he doesnt have a ton to offer in fighting, but hes great with tinkering on traps as well as offers a lot of good for the group. and because hes the only one who knows how to create spyglasses, he’s allowed to stick around. definitely true neutral, leaning into chaotic neutral, as he bails the minute his odds look good.

The Fairy Fort

LDShadowlady - Satyr Druid (Circle of the Forest)

she lives in a clearing surrounded by an enchanted dark oak forest, it just feels extremely fitting to me. after her first boogeyman corruption she is revered by the members of her group, especially so by her right hand in command rendog. i think she’s lawfully neutral throughout most of her time, maybe dropping into lawful evil after her home is burnt to the ground.

Bigbst4tz2 - Human Barbarian

i welcome a bit of criticism on this as i havent seen his pov, but i feel like bigb gives me pretty strong barbarian vibes. aside from rendog hes seen as the muscle to body guard lizzie from unwanted visitors, and isnt the best at controlling his emotion (when he killed cleo in a panic 👀👀). but like i said, i dont know his character that well, so this is what i have gathered from other perspectives.

Rendog - Werewolf Human Paladin (Oath of the Crown)

this is sorta what sparked my spiral into assigning classes to the llsmp members. he pledges his undying loyalty to the Shadow Queen after she offers him a home and refuge, as before he was alone in his cold tower. he has enough control to hold a hybrid appearance of sorts, but when he becomes red it will give way to his full wolf form. he is very much lawful good, upholding his virtues for the good of his troop. he mourns the longest when his Shadow Queen perishes.

ZombieCleo - Reborn Elf Warlock (The Undead)

ehehe we love an undead queen 👏🏼👏🏼 honestly though, i really enjoy the thought of cleo being a truly undead humanoid, or becoming so after bigb takes her life. her rage is so poignant and targeted that it alters her when she revives; a little sickly, eyes vacant yet full of unbridled fury, a shimmery line across her neck from her fatal wound. an alternative to the warlock class would be wizard with proficiency in evocation, because of her affinity to fire. she rides along the line between neutral good and true neutral, drifting to where she gains the most benefits.

Team B.E.S.T.

Bdouble0100 - Halfling Fighter (Cavalier)

even though he doesnt have a horse on this smp, i love the idea of him being an expert at archery from horseback. especially as someone of shorter stature than the rest of team best, having the high ground and more maneuverability would be a great advantage for him to have. he’s extremely susceptible to peer pressure and often falls to the thrall of the “boogeyman curse”, but i think overall his character falls within the lawful good to neutral good range. hes just doing his best 😰

EthosLab - Protector Aasimar Fighter (Champion)

known as the scariest fighter on the server, i feel like making him a proper deadly assailant is fitting to me. plus the man took down a wither (with help, but i digress) so hes very capable. hes mostly covered aside from his shock of white hair and asymmetrical eyes, hiding his half-celestial lineage from the others in an attempt at self preservation. hes mostly neutral good, but i truly hope theres retribution for the death of his betrothed bdubs.

Skizzleman - Fire Genasi Ranger (Beast Master)

skizz as a fire genasi just tickles my fancy in the best way. plus his hair turning red as a red name makes so much sense that i cant not do it. plus this gives room for him to have kevin bubbles malone refridgerator jimmy mad-eye dugan as his beast companion and i love that image immensely. as the creator of best he has a solid lawful good alignment, teetering into neutral evil when he ends up on his last life.

TangoTek - Half-Elf Bard (College of Spirits)

he starts off with the super charismatic approach in this server, choosing immediately to deal in lives, so i feel this fits him best with that sort of build up. (it would be really funny for him to gain a level in barbarian because of his melt down in session six lmfao) he maybe has some hand in tinkering, but as it ends up his demise, he maybe is very inexperienced with it. overall id say his alignment falls under lawful good or neutral good, as isnt quite malicious beyond being antagonized first.

Non-Affiliates

GoodTimeWithScar - Gnome Wizard (Enchantment)

if i picked anything other than wizard for my magic mountain resident it would be an insult i think. he always has a jolly reserve about him as well, so i like to imagine a little gnome wooing others with his display of expertise, and it feels right to me. (plus him making short jokes at bdubs expense is way funnier with this context) hes definitely chaotic neutral, as he kinda serves to help and also hinder everyone else on the server. because of this, however, he lives a lonely life in his home among the clouds.

Smallishbeans - Goliath Fighter (Battle Master)

a little straight-forward, but i really like the wide array of sub classes for fighters. plus when seeing him emerge as a red name, my brain just immediately went to a hulking figure at the base of magic mountain, so a goliath is a cool image in my mind. hes probably neutral evil for most of the server, as hes been red the longest and even as a green has threatened injury on multiple occasions.

PearlescentMoon - Human Druid (Circle of the Moon)

i should really watch pearls videos more, its taken all of my brain energy to make this decision. i do enjoy the dynamic she has with scott, especially with the attempt to make the green club, so i guess the best i can say on my knowledge of her is she might fall within lawful good or neutral good. i am curious to see how she handles it when she drops to her last life.

Smajor1995 - Air Genasi Druid (Circle of the Stars)

his skin combined with his role in the origin smp has fueled my desire to make him as otherworldly as possible. i dont watch his pov much either but i have enjoyed his dynamics with the southlands as well as scar! hes a bit of a true neutral, maybe neutral good as he was very against the wither coming into being and actively tried to prevent it too.

[h0bbs-a]

𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴:   𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙱𝙰𝙻 𝙻𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁,   𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝚁𝚁𝙾𝙶𝙰𝚃𝙴.

her hand moves slower than his,   slicing through vegetables with an acute care.   she cooked occasionally,   back at home although it was never at such an extreme as she found in his kitchen.   occasionally,   his brown eyes pierced from behind her,   watching her skill   &   technique.   it wasn't perfect,   but she's a quick learner   &   he takes note.   although her head doesn't flip around,   she takes note too of his intense gaze.   this feels familiar   &   yet in a new format.   if she couldn't see the niceties that surround her   &   instead saw an early two thousands,   not updated kitchen,   she could swear she was with her father.   the thought churns in her stomach with bile.   she speaks up to avoid throwing up,   " like this? "   she turns now with a smile on her lips,   her eyes bright:   he sees his sister.   " yes. "

when she first see h.annibal,   she cannot code him into her memory.   his hand is on her throat with a pressure that brings relief,   but there's too much blood gone to know if it's helping at all.   it does,   obviously as she wakes up in the hospital,   coated in wires   &   medical equipment that beeps so loud she cannot even hear herself think   (   though she can feel herself gasping for air   ).

he first visits   &   in all honesty her focus is on the man who she remembers,   that is until dr. l.ecter speaks.  when the man on the phone asked for her father,   abigail took note of his accent.   she also took note of will's notion that the man who called the house was another killer.   this should scare her,   &   it does indeed make her heart beat faster,   but she needs to move through the day,   get home,   answer questions she still has remaining.   all day with the man who called her dad   &   pushed him over the edge.

when she kills nick,   she dissociates,   butchering him in the pattern her father taught her.   that was muscle memory,   it's what she knew   &   what she knows.   dr. l.ecter doesn't seem to mind her violence,   in fact he offers to assist in the death of it,   &   that makes her question everything.   he is a compelling man   &   she is a girl with a square shaped hole in her heart   (click for reference).   where will tried to force a circle peg in,   abigail knows that h.annibal is the correct shape,   just smaller.   he's not her dad,   but he's something that can take his place for the pain to dissipate.

and dissipate,   the pain would.   he helps her with nightmares,   &   she starts to trust him.   it is not love,   nor is it care,   but it is trust:   a mutual trust that she lacks with will g.raham.   he tells her of what she can be while her mind is high,   &   he fills in the hole left within her with the perfect warmth.   it feels good to remember what a father felt like,   what a father was before he was violence.

the two move in tandem,   &   unlike will,   h.annibal seems to see abigail for what she is,   for what she could be,   rather than a victim.   he makes that point clear to her multiple times throughout their acquaintanceship.   she is a survivor,   not his victim   (   an obligation,   sure,   but isn't that what a child is?   ).

when she admits to her aide in the crimes,   he is calm,   which confuses her.   she is a monster,   but not to him.   is it simply a monster recognizing a monster?   she wonders.   or is it simply broken recognizing broken?   his arms feel like a surrogate to the hugs her father gave her following a nightmare,   his kiss on her head just the same.   she is using him,   &   she's sure he's aware.   she is using him to fill a vacancy in her heart,   that can't be wrong!

will g.raham scares her,   &   h.annibal lecter eases her.   she does not love him but she needs him to survive,   to cope:   &   for all she's done,   he's the one person who doesn't make her feel grotesque for it.   so he helps her kill abigail h.obbs as she knew her,   helps her bury that fear   &   unlock a side of her that she was unaware of.   she is not her father's blood,   she is her own thing,   her own woman.

he could not protect her in this life,   but that doesn't mean he can't in the next one.

abigail h.obbs is dead,   &   with it comes a second birth,   an awakening.

for him,   abigail h.obbs   &   any future iteration is second chance after second chance.   he's failed her,   not her,   her   (   mischa   ).   if he protects abigail,   he's making up for it.

it takes long for her to love h.annibal lecter.   he is for the longest time,   a warmth that is taking up the place of garret jacob h.obbs,   but as time moves on,   that hole that once held her father,   shrinks,   &   a new place is made in her chest for him.   piece by piece she pulls him apart,   moving one from the cave of the minnesota shrike to a new place just for him.   it's unnatural,   that is how they are   &   how they will continue to be.   to be natural following what they went through would be unholy itself.

her father is dead,   the surrogate is the closest she will get,   she accepts that   &   just as every child does their parent,   at least for the first year,   she loves him because he is her survival.   there are kinder pieces scattered in with it,   but at her core:   all she wants is to survive,   that's what this is,   love through survival.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The General (Part 8): Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Going home seems impossible now. And it should be, now that your definition of home has changed. 

wc: 2.4k

tw: none

masterlist

Waking up in the embrace of the General is the closest thing to heaven. His strong arms enclose you and press your back against his chest, which rises and falls evenly as he sleeps. Home, heaven… how are they any different from each other when you’re here with him? You look over your shoulder slowly, trying your best not to awaken him, and take a look at the dragon tattoo on his bicep. You had almost completely ignored it in the passion of the night before, but now, you witness it fully at rest. There’s no movement, no motion, no twitching.

You pray that this moment would stay the same for the rest of your life - and in the silence of the morning, you can hear the whisper of the prayer being carried off on the wind. But it returns back to you with a resounding ‘no’ in the form of a breathless Yuta entering the tent. 

He completely ignores the sleeping General and announces: “Master Geto, the village elders have denied the terms of negotiation.”

Suguru immediately awakens from his sleep and groans. “We ride out in an hour, then.” Yuta leaves, no doubt to announce the news to Nanami, but you’re laying in the bed, heart flailing around in your chest. Geto leans over to press a few kisses to your cheek, then rolls out of the bed with ease. “I will call for Kaori to come and bathe you, then pack your things. You’ll head home within the hour.” You tumble out of the bed, still naked, and approach Suguru from behind, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He places a hand on yours in acknowledgement, stroking it with care. 

“Please stay safe,” you croak, and he nods slowly; his only response to your request. 

_______________________________________________________________________

Your tears are freshly scrubbed from your face and your body is fragrant with rose oil when you emerge from the tent, dressed in a lavish, silk kimono that didn’t belong to you, but had been presented by Kaori as a “gift”. The head maid is following behind you, and Nanami behind her as you trudge toward the waiting carriage. Suguru is standing beside it with Yuta, and at the sight of you in the kimono, his lips turn up slightly. 

When you finally reach the door of the carriage, Suguru bows his head slightly. “You are absolutely radiant in my mother’s kimono, my love.” You spare a glance back at Kaori, who shrugs, smiling. Suddenly, careening out of the camp comes three panting children: Nobara, Yuji, and Junpei, who have hands full of random wildflowers. 

“For you!” Yuji announces, shoving his share of the flowers into your hands. Junpei and Nobara follow his lead, and you can’t help but laugh and smile at the displays of affection. 

“Thank you, thank you,” you reply, and they line up behind each other. You wait for a signal of what to do, and Yuji gives it to you, clearing his throat and pointing to his forehead expectantly. “Ah,” you immediately realize they’re all waiting for a kiss goodbye. Your lips peck one, two, three foreheads, and then they take their palace beside Nanami, who shakes his head at the scene.

You turn back around to face the General, who is handing you two letters. “These are for your family. They will explain your return.” You nod your thanks and he holds his hand out as you step into the carriage, settling into the seat comfortably with the wildflowers in your lap. Kaori joins you - to your surprise - and you look to Geto for answers. “And I am sending her with you. She will not be separated from your side, it seems.” Kaori gives him a wide grin, then grasps your hand tightly.

“I have no greater desire than to remain with you, Lady y/n.” 

“My General, you are too kind,” you murmur, staring into his onyx eyes for what feels like the last time. 

“I will not spare any comfort when it comes to you,” he replies, and you reach a hand out of the carriage window to touch his face. He closes his eyes as he leans into your palm, then kisses it tenderly. You lean out of the window fully, capturing his face with both hands and kissing him in front of the entire camp but not caring. 

“Come back to me,” you whisper as you pull away. “Please, come back to me.”

“Wait for me, then, my love,” He replies, taking both of your hands and kissing your knuckles. You slide back into your seat, the sting of fresh tears pricking at your eyes as he orders the driver to go ahead. The horses pull your carriage away from the gathered group, and you watch them disappear into the distance until you could see them no more. 

That’s when the real tears begin to leak from your eyes. And unfortunately, these are the ones you can’t stop. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Y/n!” Your mother rushes to meet you, squealing with joy at the sight of her youngest child returning home. Your father is behind her, standing in the open doorway with the ghost of a grin on his face. 

“Mother,” you greet her, hugging her tightly and inhaling the scent of jasmine from her hair. 

“You look so beautiful - oh, and who is this?” She peeks over your shoulder at Kaori, and you smile widely. 

“This is Kaori. She’s my maid from the ca--” 

“From the Imperial Palace.” Kaori corrects you quickly, and you nod, remembering your ruse. 

“She’s very skilled at her job and wouldn’t be parted from me.” You remember the letters Suguru had given you and present them to your mother quickly. “These are for you.” 

“Oh, come inside! You’ll probably want to get settled and rest before dinner.” You look up at the place you call your home and remember the way it looks, the way it smells, the way the walls feel as you run your hands over them… but it doesn’t feel like home. Nothing feels like home anymore. 

Even your old room seems foreign compared to the General’s tent, despite everything being as you left it. Kaori looks around the space and you give her a grim smile, hoping it would ease her fears about the new space. But when she gives you a genuine, loving smile, you know it’s going to be alright. 

“Y/n,” your mother calls out, entering your room with a letter in her hand. “This is for you. Not sure if you got it mixed up or not, but here you go.” 

“What did yours say?” you wonder, taking the letter in your hands with trepidation. 

“Oh, the Prince made it very clear that he would be taking care of you financially while you’re here, despite the fact that you’re so terribly far from the palace. He’s sending money to take care of all of your needs for as long as you’re staying in the village.” You frown at this, wondering why he didn’t just give you money outright, but you nod anyways. “Also, he’s asked someone to come and be your bodyguard… but he wouldn’t say who it was. I thought you should have come with one, but the Prince says he’s a specialist, so…” You blink twice, trying to make sense of her rambles, but shake your head and fiddle with the letter you hold in your hands. When you open it, you slowly read each and every word written by Geto.

“My dearest, 

I write to you knowing that you are feeling alone, even though you are surrounded by your family and Kaori. Do not worry; you all are safe and well-protected. I will be sending Toji Fushiguro to your home, where he will protect you and your family should something go awry. I have paid him a hefty sum and will continue to pay him, regardless of the outcome of this war, so make sure Kaori doesn’t lose her head trying to deal with him. He’s a special breed.

Communication will be impossible. Do not send a letter, speak of, or attempt to get anyone from your village to contact the camp. This is for your safety as well as theirs. Yuji, Nobara, and Junpei’s survival depends on you keeping this secret between you and Kaori. Even Toji is not aware of the camp’s true whereabouts, which benefits everyone involved. 

Lastly, I love you. Life was terribly boring before you came along, and I look forward to the day when my eyes can rest upon your face again. Without you, things look bleak. 

Wait for me. 

I’ll come back for you as soon as this is all over.” 

_______________________________________________________________________

A massive brute of a man is standing in front of you, holding a toddler who looks almost exactly like him in his arms. A black shirt is stretched thin across his chest, as if he were some man who only wore one thing ever. You stand in the doorway, arms crossed over your chest while you look him up and down, scowling. 

“Geto didn’t say you’d be bringing a kid.” You jerk your chin at him, and Toji rolls his eyes.

“He also didn’t say he’d fallen for a brat, so I guess both of us were left out of the loop.” When he pushes past you and lets the child slide off of his hip, your mother instantly goes into her nurturing mode. 

“Oh, you must be her lovely bodyguard!” She circles around him, eyes glowing with a light you’ve never seen before. “He never mentioned you’d be so… so…” 

“Let me guess… handsome?” Kaori grumbles beside you, mirroring your stance. 

“Yes, so handsome.” Toji grins at your mother, now the epitome of manners and poise. 

“My lady, you are too kind.” 

“And look at your son! Ah, he’s the spitting image of you. What is your name, darling?”

“Megumi,” the child replies, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands and looking around the foyer of the house curiously. 

“Megumi and Toji, we’ve made the guest room up for you and dinner will be ready shortly, if you’re hungry.” Toji clasps his hands together and smiles while your mother retreats to the kitchen, then looks over to his son, who's taken interest in the painting hanging on the wall. 

“This is perfect. I’ll have to give Geto my thanks if he returns…” Toji disappears into the kitchen, Megumi following not too far behind him. 

_______________________________________________________________________

A few weeks later, the idea of visiting the village square feels familiar enough to you that you’re not anxious as you walk around to get some fresh air and shop at your leisure. Kaori is beside you with a basket full of fruits and vegetables, eagerly perusing the carts of fresh fish and meats. 

Anything that could get you out of the house and away from the stony gaze of Toji Fushiguro was welcome, and shopping seemed to be just the thing that he wouldn’t even dare get his legs up to do. He had waved you off when you mentioned your plan - instead, choosing to teach Megumi how to spar - and Kaori and you had quickly ran to the gates, anticipating the excitement of being somewhat free from his supervision. 

“We never had this at the camp,” Kaori mentions and takes a sniff of the ginger root she had purchased earlier. “I love this idea - everything is on display to pick and choose from.” You acknowledge her comment with a hum, keeping an eye out for one particular person as you roam about the square. But even when you peek your head into the potter’s shop, you see no one except his betrothed - perhaps, wife - sitting among the various articles of clay. 

“Is Yuko here?” You inquire and she looks up from the kaolin to see you. Her brown hair is tied up in a bun and her green eyes drift over your attire before she gasps.

“Oh!” She stands immediately, hands chalky. “You’re back!” You don’t know the woman, nor have you ever known her, but the fact that she knew you was a little concerning. 

“I’m sorry, do we…”

“Yuko has told me so much about you, Lady y/n. Please, come with me. I’ll clean up and make you something nice to e--” 

“Yuko’s spoken about me?” you ask, and the woman smiles widely. 

“Of course he has; you’re Suguru’s lover.” Kaori starts a little next to you, gripping the basket with both hands. Before you can ask how she knows so much information about you, she shakes her head quickly. “I’m sorry, I must’ve forgotten to mention: I’m related to Yuta; we’re siblings. We know all about your trip, and we’ve been expecting you.” 

“And where is--” The woman wipes her hands on a towel and approaches you.

“I’m afraid you’re a few days too late. Yuko got the call that he would need to serve the Emperor in the Imperial Warriors and left. Rest assured, he hasn’t turned coat, though. Like many of those who are with the General, we will fight on the other side then become informants or turn against our squads at the last minute.” She pats your elbow and then steps back, remembering her place. “The General will win the war, my Lady. And he will come back. Yuta has given us the assurance that everything will go to plan.” 

“Are you sure?” you whisper, and she winks at you. 

“Trust me, the General is much stronger than you think. I’ve seen the way he can decimate a village first hand.” 

“You have?” 

“My lady, I think that we should g--” You shrug Kaori’s hand off of your shoulder before taking a seat beside the pottery wheel. 

“Tell me everything.”

Before the woman can open her mouth, however, a massive commotion begins outside. You jolt out of the chair and peer out of the door, watching a crowd of people begin to gather at the square’s fountain. 

You hadn’t been gone so long that you didn’t remember the thrill of news from the town’s announcer, and you’re fortunate that you can hear the man from the doorway. 

“From the Imperial Palace! The forces of General Geto Suguru have been surrounded at the foot of Mount Takadashi and completely wiped out by Prince Naoya’s army. The Emperor is ordering a week of festivities in celebration of Prince Naoya’s victory, which will begin tomorrow at noon!” Riotous cheers erupt around the square, and for a moment, you’re stuck in the doorway, your mind going absolutely blank. 

Kaori drops her basket, Yuko’s wife gasps, and you...

Gojo. Haibara. Yuta. Nanami. The children. Geto. 

Gone.

The world shakes furiously under your feet, and you careen backwards, losing all of your senses at once as your knees buckle and you black out. 

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