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youryurigoddess · 7 months ago

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The biggest Easter egg yet

I’ve been meaning to address this for a while now, but @camdenleisurepirates gave me the final push after reading my piece on Gabriel’s cross. Huge thanks for that morsel of motivation, my ADHD brain loves you.

This is going to be yet another long read, although not as extensive as my bookshop statues meta. Still, better get yourself some hot chocolate or another drink of your choice and make sure you’re comfortable!

Now, remember the X-Ray interview with Peter Anderson on Easter Eggs in the opening animation he created for the second season? Forget red herrings, apparently our fandom has a literal red phone box! I’m convinced that this whole scene is a one big — the biggest, actually — Easter Egg, and I’ll explain why step-by-step.

The red phone box Crowley used to warn Aziraphale about the Antichrist and the following Armageddon in S1, the exact one where he left change for an emergency call, seems important enough in terms of the future S3 plot, but there’s so much more going on in this frame. Not only the lift.

The angels

At the very start of this sequence we can see a fragment of an elaborate bridge guarded by cherubs sitting on two columns, maybe globes, leading to a distant structure built over a literal mountain of trash — all elements of the S1 and S2 openings which were consciously picked out by the animators and put together in a very ominous pile.

Ready for some scavenging?

In the Gabriel’s cross meta, I already mentioned the importance of Ponte Sant’Angelo in relation to the ex-Archangel’s statue. Now it’s time to widen our perspective and focus on the full picture — quite literally. Apparently the bridge from the opening sequence has ten statues of angels, exactly as the Italian historical monument.

First things first though: the two big cherubs guarding the entry to the bridge might seem familiar to some of you. While they’re obviously not copies of the same statue, a very similar pair of brass cherubs is placed in Aziraphale’s bookshop to symbolize Aziraphale and Crowley. And looking at the screenshot above and the way they sleep or sulk with their backs turned on each other, they are most certainly not talking. The addition of more than one set of eyes is a lovely reference to biblically accurate angel memes though.

If we assume the traditional left-right positioning of the characters, Aziraphale is on the left and Crowley is on the right. Directly behind Aziraphale we can see a ship named “Good Traits”, but in reverse — kinda sorta confirmed by the animator Peter Anderson to be connected to the concept of the seven deadly sins on Twitter. Same that was mentioned recently by Neil in one of his asks.

The presence of Gabriel — a renegade Archangel wielding a broken cross — on the right, Crowley’s side, seems to match this theory. It could also support one of the possible interpretations of the very last bookshop shot in the S2 finale.

Out of all ten statues, Angel Carrying the Cross by Ercole Ferrata is considered inferior to the others on the bridge in that it appears to be a two-dimensional relief sculpture rather than an unbounded three-dimensional artwork, which seems to match Gabriel’s first impression as a character.

The inscription on the statue reads, “Dominion rests on his shoulders" — that is the weight of the cross that Christ was forced to carry through Jerusalem before being crucified. Even though Gabriel’s burden partially disappeared, the whole bridge and its environment is covered with crosses. It’s clear that we’re looking at a direct parallel of Via Crucis, the Way of Sorrows.

Towering over the Italian bridge, at the very top of Castel Sant’Angelo, is a statue of Archangel Michael, seen as the golden angel on the top left part of the trash pile. Aziraphale’s side, perhaps as his assistant, perhaps a rival? Legends of the Jews mention Michael as the chief of a band of angels who questioned God's decision to create man on Earth. The entire band of angels, except for Michael, was condemned to Fall — which could explain why they have such a good access to the Grapevine That Obviously Doesn’t Exist. And whatever’s going on between Michael and Dagon, perhaps.

In Roman Catholic teachings, Michael has four main roles or offices. Their first role is the leader of the Army of God and the leader of Heaven's forces in the final triumph over the powers of Hell. Viewed as the angelic model for the virtues of the spiritual warrior, their conflict with evil taken as the battle within. The second and third roles of Michael deal with death. Their second role is that of an angel of death, carrying the souls of Christians to Heaven. Michael descends at the hour of death and gives each soul the chance to redeem itself before passing; thus throwing the devil and his minions into consternation. In their third role, Michael weights souls on perfectly balanced scales they are often depicted with as their attribute. In their fourth role, Michael appears as the guardian of the Church. Might be the reason why they’re the closest to the building on top of the mountain.

It looks like Michael lost their sword though, just like Gabriel lost a part of the cross he was supposed to carry. The sword in question was supposed to be used to slay the dragon — Satan, the Adversary — according to John of Patmos and his Book of Revelations.

Speak of the devil: interestingly, there are two copies of an anonymous variation of the Angel of Light statue appearing twice on both sides of the bridge. Both the title as well as the statue itself seem like obvious references to one (former) angel literally called the Lightbringer, Lucifer. Perhaps one of them is representing his son, the Antichrist, instead, with the both of them helping out the Ineffables on two opposing — or perhaps only parallel — sides of the bridge?

The light carried by Lucifer appears to be green, a color used in the series as a visual representation of Hell, but on the intertextual level might also serve as a reference to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s classic novel The Great Gatsby and the green light at the end of the Daisy’s dock symbolizing the undying love, desperation, and longing for an unattainable dream. In the story, the color represents the limitations of power and money. Not surprisingly, the novel appears on Jim’s bookshelf and is part of the Good Omens book club — a list of personal recommendations from Neil Gaiman and Douglas Mackinnon for the fans to catch up on before the next series.

Last but not least, the possible connection to Libertas as the inspiration for the Statue of Liberty, shown multiple times in S2 as a foreshadowing of our character’s trip to America in S3. The related quote of Patrick Henry “Give me liberty or give me death” becomes even more relevant if we consider how the motto of the French Revolution was sometimes written as Liberté, égalité, fraternité ou la mort (“Liberty, equality, fraternity or death”). A lesson surely learnt by a certain angel back in 1793, when he was held prisoner for the last time before being forcefully taken Upstairs in the Final Fifteen.

The bridge and the castle

Okay, these are the basic observations. Now a brief historical overview and we will reach the fun bit in a jiffy.

Have you ever wondered about the meaning of this whole complex? It wasn’t always angelic, but named after a Roman noble dynasty. The Aelian bridge was built by the Emperor Hadrian in 134 AD to span River Tiber from the city center to his mausoleum. With time, the remains of more emperors were put to rest in there, until it was plundered and destroyed in a war. Then the remaining structure was transformed into a military fortress and a castle serving as the papal residence in times of war.

The Papal State also used Sant'Angelo as a prison; the Renaissance philosopher Giordano Bruno was imprisoned there for six years. Executions of the inmates were performed in the small inner courtyard, but they weren’t the only deaths in the area. On the other side of the bridge, in the adjoining Piazza del Ponte, under the watchful eyes of the stone likenesses of two saints, the public executions were held, and the heads of the criminals were brought onto the bridge and exposed to public view there.

As a prison, the former mausoleum is also the setting for the third act of Giacomo Puccini's 1900 opera Tosca. Long story short, the eponymous heroine convinces her lover to feign death so that they can flee together. Unfortunately, they are betrayed and the firing squad shoots at him with real bullets instead of blanks. Tosca believes in the quality of his acting performance rather than the truth, and when the realization hits her, she leaps to her death from the Castel’s ramparts.

After Nero’s bridge was destroyed, the travelers were forced to cross this bridge as the only direct route to the Vatican and St Peter’s Basilica, earning it the nickname “the bridge of Saint Peter”. That’s why in the 16th century Pope Clement VII erected statues of Saints Peter and Paul at the ends of the bridge, guarding it as they are supposed to protect the entry to Heaven.

In 1688 the bridge was embellished with ten angel statues, five on each side of the bridge, carrying Arma Christi, the Instruments of the Passion. The Good Omens characters represented by those statues in the opening sequence might be other instruments of Christ’s suffering as parts of the system that needs to be overthrown or replaced.

One angel appears particularly important in the context of both the bridge and the Second Coming — Saint Michael the Archangel.

Legend holds that the Archangel Michael appeared atop Hadrian’s mausoleum, sheathing their sword as a sign of the end of the plague of 590, thus lending the castle its present name. A less charitable yet more apt elaboration of the legend, given the militant disposition of this particular Archangel, was heard by the 15th-century traveler who saw an angel statue on the castle roof. He recounts that during a prolonged season of the plague, Pope Gregory I heard that the populace, even Christians, had begun revering a pagan idol at the church of Santa Agata in Suburra. A vision urged the Pope to lead a procession to the church. Upon arriving, the idol miraculously fell apart with a clap of thunder. Returning to St Peter's by the Aelian Bridge, the Pope had another vision of an angel atop the castle, wiping the blood from his sword on his mantle, and then sheathing it. While the Pope interpreted this as a sign that God was appeased, this did not prevent Gregory from destroying more sites of pagan worship in Rome. In honor of the vision and Michael, the bridge was renamed in their name.

What if the procession from the opening sequence was meant to imitate the procession led by the Pope from the legend? What if Aziraphale, now officially a Supreme Archangel, Commander of the Heavenly Host, is the one actually leading it, with Crowley finally at his side as his partner and second in command, just like it was proposed by him in the Final Fifteen?*

What if by some reason, maybe personal ambition, maybe just a tragic coincidence or situational necessity, there really was an impostor in Heaven, and Metatron — the so called Voice of God who seemingly doesn’t speak up for Herself since Job’s test — has been playing a winged version of the Wizard of Oz all along?

It would make just the perfect sense if not for one tiny detail. The procession we see on the bridge is actually led by Crowley, which doesn’t fit the parallel at all — unless it’s actually a proof of an ongoing body swap, as the mismatched names of the actors could also suggest?

The mountain of trash and the bookshop

The symbolic mountain of trash we can see Aziraphale and Crowley climb is a reference in itself. To an actual mount called Zion, believed to be the place where Yahweh, the God of Israel, dwells (Isaiah 8:18; Psalm 74:2), the place where God is king (Isaiah 24:23) and where God has installed king David on his throne (Psalm 2:6).

In a literal sense, it’s a hill in Jerusalem, although the sources refer to three different locations in different contexts — although for the purpose of this meta the Upper Eastern Hill (Temple Mount) makes the most sense. Its highest part became the site of Solomon's Temple. The same King Solomon the rituals in Freemasonry refer to. Masonic buildings, where lodges and their members meet, are sometimes called "temples" specifically as an allegoric reference to King Solomon's Temple, not actual places of worship. And Aziraphale’s bookshop is built around Solomon’s Magic Circle.

In a metaphysical sense, and especially in the context of the Christian New Testament, it is also believed to be a part of Heaven — the heavenly Jerusalem, God's Holy, eternal city. Christians are said to have “(…) come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are registered in heaven” (Hebrews 12:22-23 cf. Revelation 14:1). Just like the procession were following in the opening sequence.

There’s been some speculation whether the lift on top of the mountain could symbolize Aziraphale’s bookshop, or, more specifically, the oculus in its centre. If you look closely at the enhanced screenshot, you can see that the dome isn’t made of glass and that it looks like a tower (a church’s bell tower, perhaps) more than a whole building.

And there is an actual doorway in there — not like the modern lift doors — opening up towards the source of that white, heavenly light. And what kind of enlightenment can you usually find up in the skies or heavens?

We’re welcomed to crack open the doors to the Heavenly Sanctuary — the Most Holy place, Sanctum Sanctorum, the Holy of Holies — to undraw the final curtain and finally stand eye to eye with God. Who knows, maybe even ask some questions or listen to some answers.

Or, at the very least, to meet one of Her forms known as Jesus Christ. Because that’s precisely where he serves as our (humanity’s) Mediator and the Holy Priest after his Ascension to Heaven. The structure at the top reminds of some temple architecture seen in Antiquity and Christianity.

The Catholic Church considers the Church tabernacle or its location (traditionally at the rear of the sanctuary) as the symbolic equivalent of the Holy of Holies, due to the storage of consecrated hosts in that vessel and their meaning as the Body of Christ. Tabernacle is commonly marked with a red light turned on and off depending on His presence or lack if it.

Looks like He’s already in the area, one way or another, keeping eye on some things.

Are we following a procession of believers happy to embrace their one and true Savior? Or are they actually protesters on their way to dethrone the authority and the system?

Guess we will have to wait and see.

#the good omens crew is unhinged #everything has a meaning #title sequence #angels everywhere #archangel fucking gabriel #gabriel’s statue #bookshop statues #statues update #ponte sant’angelo #let there be light #good omens analysis #good omens meta #bible fanfiction #yuri is doing her thing

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ladamedusoif · 6 months ago

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Tempered in the Fire - Part Four

See the Series Masterlist for complete content warnings, historical event information, and series notes.

Cross-posted to AO3. Follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications for updates.

Pairing: Blacksmith!Din Djarin x F! Reader

Summary: Ireland, almost a decade after the rebellion of 1798. You are an unusual woman: married, but alone; a widow, with no certainty her husband is dead. When your local blacksmith is badly injured in an accident and unable to work, you have no choice but to travel to the next forge, run by a man of few words whose uncertain origins and dark complexion make him stand out among the locals. You are immediately intrigued by this mysterious, taciturn figure - and the striking little boy he’s taken as his apprentice.

Word Count: 7.1k

Rating: Explicit; 18+ MDNI (chapter; series)

Content (chapter specific): Blacksmith!Din AU; historical setting; angst; smut; violence; unprotected PiV sex; oral sex (F and M receiving); racist (anti-Traveller) language; period-typical misogyny; references to domestic physical, emotional, and sexual abuse; references to family loss and death; abusive and derogatory language; strong language.

Translations for the Irish language provided throughout as needed, though I have not translated mo chuisle as a term of endearment (it literally means 'my pulse', more usually used as 'my love').

A/N: I am so, so sorry for the gap between chapters here and am grateful to the readers who've been so patient! Thanks, too, as ever, to @paulmescal-s for working through the gnarlier bits of this story with me and being such a great sort-of beta.

In the future, after many years had passed, you would find it hard to remember exactly how much time you had together, at the forge, before the hard reality came knocking at your door. Those days and nights of domestic happiness could never have been enough.

By day, you keep house, sew, and bake. Each morning, you do some basic reading and writing with Gró, or take the little boy around the hedgerows and trees at the boundary of the property, teaching him the names of plants and animals. Din had explained your presence to him, and he beamed every morning when his father carried him down the attic ladder and he saw you again.

Din, so used to being the lone adult in the household, insists on contributing to the routine: cooking, cleaning, setting the fire. It feels so natural, so right - and yet a blade dangles over this strange little found family, ready to drop at any moment.

Each evening, Din readies Gró for bed, sometimes bathing his son in a tin bath in front of the fire while you tell him a story by way of distraction. It has quickly become a highlight of the blacksmith’s day, these moments where he watches as you make his beloved boy squeal with laughter, or hold his rapt attention with the twists and turns of a tale.

They were content and settled, this clan of two. But Din couldn’t help the daydreams about a clan of three that sometimes flashed through his mind.

He took every opportunity he could to touch you throughout the day. A squeeze of your hand at the breakfast table as Gró drained his cup of milk. A discreet kiss to your cheek as he made his way into the forge for his morning’s work. A gentle caress of your waist as he passes you while you’re laying the table for the main meal, taken in the middle of the day.

With Gró settled and asleep in the loft, the two of you moved more hastily in the evenings, now, to sort the things for breakfast and smother the fire. The sooner the chores were done, after all, the sooner you could shed your clothes and climb into his bed together.

The nervous caution of your first time together soon dissipated as you grew more familiar with each other, more in tune with each other’s needs and desires. For all his inexperience and your difficult past, the two of you are perfectly-matched lovers. The feeling of Din’s broad body on yours, glistening with sweat, begins to exorcise the demons of the past. You ride him on top, one hand intertwined with his as he squeezes your breasts and watches you come. He slips his cock inside you one morning as you’re lying together, your back pressed to his chest, and fucks you slowly and carefully until you’re both coming quietly, mouths pushed into the pillows. One evening, he was even too impatient for bed, hitching up your skirts and taking you over the heavy wooden table, hand pressed against your mouth as you whined against his palm.

“I want to learn you,” Din whispered one night, easing your long shift off so that you were completely bare, lying alongside his own naked body.

You traced your fingertips along the softness of his lips. “Learn me?”

His strong, clever fingers roamed over you as he nodded. “Learn you. Know you, all of you.” He squeezed your tits softly, sucking gently on each nipple. “Commit you to memory. How you feel, how you fit together. Do you like this?”

You wound your fingers through his messy curls and nodded. He followed the curves of your body with his broad, calloused hands, moving over your waist and holding your hips firmly as he reverently kissed your belly. He took his time, hands memorising the exact shape and volume of your form.

“You are a beauty, mo chuisle,” he murmured, dark eyes looking up at you from between your legs. “So lovely and soft and warm.”

His fingers pressed into the meat of your thighs as he mapped you out, and you felt the wetness between your legs as your hips bucked upwards, legs parting instinctively.

“Can I…see, mo chuisle?” Din’s palm grazed over the hair covering your mound. “See you…see you here?”

“Of course, my darling.” You opened your legs wider for him, watching as his eyes grew round in awe, before darkening with lust. He reached for his cock, whimpering a little as he stroked himself.

“That’s beautiful.” He had shifted his head closer to your centre, his expression a little bashful. “I’d like to kiss you here. Would that be alright?”

“Please, darling,” you hissed. “Put your mouth on me.”

“I’ve never…” He exhaled nervously as he settled between your legs, fingers already playing with your wet folds. “Never even thought of this, but…”

You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled, understanding what he was trying to say. “You’ll know just what to do, love.”

This was new to you, too, though you had heard of men doing it to their girls, especially if they were not meant to lie together. Your friend Mary had, just prior to her marriage, confided in you that she and her betrothed had found a way to sate their passions without the risk of her falling pregnant before the wedding.

“The mouth is a great thing, all the same,” she’d said, dangling her bare feet in the cool water of the local river on a warm summer day as the two of you lazed on the grassy bank, skirts hitched to your knees. She had explained the mechanisms of it to you, chuckling at your sceptical expression.

“Just wait, girleen. Just you wait and see.”

Now Din’s soft, plush lips were pressed against your slit, tongue tasting your wetness, and you finally understood what she meant. It was heaven: the way his lips brushed against the little bundle of nerves and made your whole body convulse with pleasure, the sensation of his patchy beard against your thighs, how he began to slip his tongue in and out of you. His grunts and moans vibrated against your core and you came hard against him, giggling when you saw the slick glistening all over his smiling face.

In the nights to come, you returned the favour, languidly sucking and licking at his perfect cock while he held your head in place with his broad hands, hips bucking up against you as he groaned with sheer pleasure.

You paused, reminding him that he needed to be quieter, before slipping his cock between your lips again. “‘S not my fault, mo chuisle,” he panted, eyes locked on how his hard length disappeared into your pretty mouth. “Feels far too good.”

As he came in your mouth for the first time, you’d looked up at his beautiful face, release and pleasure and affection written on every part of it, and begged whatever deity might listen to let you stay here forever.

Din is more comfortable showing his feelings through actions, physical gestures, than words. Little by little, though, you notice him opening up more, saying more. Not that he’d ever be what you could consider a talker.

One night, nestled together, you ask him to tell you about himself.

"I want to hear your story, Din.” The comforting caress of your hand against his face makes him smile softly.

"I don’t know what there is to tell.”

You cuddle closer to him, enjoying the feel of his solid frame against you. “Well, I don’t know much about your family, for one…”

He shifts a little in bed and for an instant you worry you have overstepped the mark.

“It’s not a very happy story, mo chuisle, but if you want to know…”

A kiss to the expanse of broad, tanned chest exposed at the neck of his nightshirt. “I want to know. If you want to tell me.”

He finds your hand and presses it to his chest, seeking reassurance in your familiar touch, and taking a deep breath before he begins to whisper his story to you.

"I’m a travelling person. I don’t know where I was born - other than that it was probably somewhere towards the west of the country, on a campsite. I have - had - an older sister, a younger brother. Lived off the money from whatever work my father could get - fixing pots and pans, mostly, sometimes farm labour, depending on the season.”

"A hard living.”

He nods, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. “Hard, but loving.” He inhales deeply, again, before continuing.

"We were never really wanted anywhere. Moved on, camps disturbed, even attacked, sometimes. We learned quickly how to hide at the first sign of trouble.”

He closes his eyes, a flash of sorrow crossing his beautiful features in the moonlight coming through the little cottage window. “I suppose that’s what saved me.”

For a few moments, Din is quiet.

“We had camped on land that was part of some big estate, belonging to Lord somebody or other. The usual situation. My father and a couple of our other men went fishing the first day and poaching the first night, to get us some food. I can still see the scales of the big salmon he caught, glinting in the firelight as my mother cleaned it.”

"A feast.”

He nods, a little smile on his lips at the memory, before his features darken again. “But not our feast to take. The lord’s feast, by virtue of the land being given to him by some far-off king.” He shakes his head ruefully.

"I was coming back with some cans of water the next morning when I heard shouting. The glimpses of red moving towards the camp - the yeomanry. The landlord set them on us, and they gave us no quarter. When some of our men and women tried to defend our few possessions, they - well, they turned violent.”

You hold him close, feeling the anguish in his breathing.

"I saw my father fall, killed by a blow to the head with the butt of a yeoman’s musket. My mother caught a glimpse of me, roared at me to run, to hide, and to my eternal shame I did just that. I didn’t go to them. I ran.”

"She wanted you to live, Din. She was saving you.”

He swallows hard, audible in the stillness of the night.

“The local priest found me a couple of days later, still carrying the empty can. I’d hidden in a ditch, ate blackberries to survive. He arranged for the local blacksmith and his wife to take me in, train me as an apprentice.”

He pauses again. You realise this is the most he’s probably ever said to you in one go.

“When the time came, I took to the roads myself, honing the craft before I could set up on my own. I wasn’t long back when the priest called, saying a cousin in the east knew of an empty forge in need of a good smith.”

"And that’s how you came here?”

Din nods. “That’s how I came to be here.”

You venture a sensitive question. “Din… what happened to your mother, your siblings?”

"Poorhouse. No other choice.”

Silence.

"I didn’t know where they’d gone. So much sickness in those godforsaken places…”

Another pause.

”My brother died first. Then my sister, and then my mother.”

Your voice is tiny, barely a whisper. “Did you… see them?”

"By the time we found out what poorhouse they were in… it was too late.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you do your best not to let them fall. This is his story, his grief, not yours. Instead, you shift up the bed a little, still holding his warm body close, and lean in to caress and kiss him.

There’s a wet, salty tang on his cheek. You kiss away the silent tear.

For a moment, you think of what Din told you about how he came to adopt Gró: his unwillingness to let the boy go to a poorhouse or orphanage, his desire to protect and train the child, just as he himself had once been taken in by the smith and his wife. Just as he, himself, had once been a lost little boy.

You press your lips to the messy curls at the crown of his head.

There are times when you almost forget that you’re not really meant to be here, so natural and right does it feel. And then you are jolted back, reluctantly, to a reality where you are still technically the wife of a violent, cruel man who could claim you at any moment.

That afternoon, you hear the sound of horses approaching and immediately disappear up to the loft, as usual, until you know it’s safe to descend. You listen attentively as the door opens and breathe a sigh of relief when Gró’s delighted little voice greets Peigí, here on one of her regular visits. You hear Din enter the cottage from the forge, chatting companionably to his old friend, and make for the ladder.

You’re a few rungs down when you hear a second, less familiar voice.

“So where is she, Din?”

He stutters, the panic evident in his voice. You wonder if you can make it back to the loft.

Too late.

Father Carthy hears the sound of your skirts and turns, greeting you by name in grave tones.

“You might as well come and join us, my child.”

Peigí’s gaze is apologetic as you climb down the ladder and move to join the little cluster of adults, Din having sent Gró outside to play. You stand beside him, arms wrapped protectively over your body, resisting the urge to reach for his hand.

“I’m sorry, girleen.” Peigí wrings her hands, expression anxious and sorrowful. “Father came to see me today before I left for the forge, I couldn’t turn him out.”

You meet Father Carthy’s eyes with a look of defiance, straightening yourself to your full height, silently demanding an explanation.

“I am not here to force you home. I know your…situation.” The priest exhales deeply, fingers fiddling with the little black buttons on his long robes. “And between us and the wall and the Lord Almighty, if that kind of cruelty and abandonment was grounds for annulment… well.”

The back of Din’s hand brushes almost imperceptibly against yours.

“But you are still a married woman, and…” The cleric sighs apologetically. “My child, you were seen here. Out in the back field, with the boy. And if I’ve heard it, and people are talking, then it’s only a matter of time before -”

You interject in a low, steady voice. “Before Searlas finds out where I am.”

The priest nods sadly. “That’s why I came here. Why I came with Peigí, specifically. We… have a suggestion.” He looks expectantly at Peigí, who offers you an encouraging smile as she nods in agreement.

“My sister, Rosie - she’s in the next county, big farm, spinster, plenty of space and could do with the help. You could stay there for a bit and then come home to your own place - until they change the garrison, surely, or that wastrel Searlas can be warned off…”

You bite your lip, mulling it over.

“I mean, maybe he’s not going to come looking for me.”

Peigí and the priest exchange a concerned glance. The cleric clasps his hands together and looks at you sympathetically.

“The thing is… I have eyes and ears, as it were, in the barracks, and in the public house preferred by the garrison. I didn’t want to tell you, my dear, in case it frightened you - but he has been talking about you.” He purses his lips, almost afraid to tell you the truth. “He has openly talked about finding you, about… claiming you. And if he finds out you’ve been staying here, with a bachelor - think of your reputation, my child.”

You let out an involuntary sob, and Peigí places a comforting hand on your arm. “I think you need to be gone tomorrow, girleen. At the latest. I’m sorry, I know it’s awful quick, but…”

For the first time, Din speaks. His voice is low, controlled, serious.

“But you - I mean, she must be kept safe.” He looks at you, dark eyes full of care and concern. “If you want to stay, I will keep you safe. I promise.”

There’s nothing more you want in the world than to throw your arms around him and let him protect you, just as you long to protect him from the sorrows of his past. But his description of the day he lost his parents echoes in your mind, as does the tension that crackled in the air the day the soldiers were at the forge. You cannot - will not - bring that down on him again, nor on Gró.

“Din, if I stay here I fear that none of us will be safe. Not you, not me, not Gró. I couldn’t take that risk, my d-” You catch yourself just in time. “I mean, my dear friend.”

Peigí’s wise, inquisitive eyes dart between you and Din, and she emits a low, intrigued hum.

Din exhales in frustration. “I said I would keep you safe, here. I mean it.”

Father Carthy places a paternal hand on Din’s shoulder, expression gentle but resigned. “She’s right, Din, and you know it. Apart from her own reputation - you don’t want a troop of redcoats landing on the doorstep, do you? Think of your home, your livelihood - your son.”

The blacksmith’s expression is defiant, but you can see the reality of the situation dawning on him as the light fades from his beautiful eyes. He nods, silent, a hand twisting at the soft, worn leather of his apron.

“Early as we can after dawn tomorrow, then?” Peigí squeezes your hand as she waits for your answer.

You cannot bring yourself to look at Din as you nod in agreement.

It is still bright outside, just about, when Gró is settled for bed and the dinner things cleared and tidied away. You have packed up your saddlebags in silence, fighting the tears that threaten to fall at any moment.

Din’s broad hand reaches around your waist as he moves past you, pulling you close to him. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, kissing the delicate skin.

“Can we take a little walk, mo chuisle? Before night falls?”

You face him, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingers. “A little one. Don’t forget there’s a little boy asleep in the loft, we can’t go too far.”

He presses his lips to your fingertips before kissing you on the forehead.

You walk hand in hand in the dusk, wandering through the field at the back of the forge towards the old oak tree that stands at the boundary of the property. Din is quiet - even quieter than usual, just casting occasional glances in your direction and squeezing your hand with a gentle smile.

In the shadow of the oak, he kisses you deeply, pressing your body against the tree as he holds your face in his big, strong hands.

“I don’t want to go, Din.”

“I don’t want you to go, mo chuisle.” He kisses you again, chastely, and looks in your eyes. A question hovers on the tip of his tongue.

“Tell me, my darling.”

He holds your hands, grounding himself a little in your comforting touch.

“I want you to take Gró to Peigí’s sister’s. Please.”

Even in the half-light, he can read the shock on your face.

“Oh, Din, I… I couldn’t. I couldn’t see the two of you parted, he’d be lost without you and you without him and-”

He shakes his head firmly. “I have to keep you safe - both of you. And if a gang of redcoats turned up and it was just me and him…”

He saw his father die.

“He’s your son.”

Din nods. “He is. And I can’t leave him alone again.”

He lost his entire family.

“He might not want to leave with me.”

“I’ve explained it to him. He knows it’s not forever, he understands the reasons why.” You catch a glimpse of his smile, a beacon of hope in the twilight.

“Mo chuisle, you’re the closest thing he has to a mother in this world.”

You hold each other close through the night, afraid to sleep lest you miss a single second of this time together.

Din tucks his face into the side of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and softly kissing the exposed skin of your shoulders. You wind your fingers through his hair, trying to memorise the rhythm of his heartbeat and his breath.

"You should sleep, mo chuisle,” he whispers against your body. “Tomorrow will be a hard one.”

"Says you,” you whisper in return, enough to elicit a muffled chuckle from the blacksmith.

He pulls away to look you in the eye, fingers mapping the shape of your features. Even in the low light, you can see how his beautiful eyes glisten: this strong and stoic man, fighting the tears that threaten to fall.

You take his hand and guide it down your body, pausing to hitch up your shift and open your legs. You inhale sharply as his fingers find your pussy, well-practiced now from nights and early mornings spent pleasuring you.

With a shift of your hips you roll onto your back, bringing Din on top of you. You pause to take in the sight, suppressing the gnawing feeling that this might well be the last time. The glint in his dark eyes. The moonlight illuminating his features. The feeling of his strong, broad body above you, perfectly positioned between your thighs.

“Make love to me, Din.”

He does so slowly, carefully, anchoring himself with one hand on your hip and the other still caressing the side of your face. You kiss as he fucks you, your whines absorbed by his soft mouth. No man had ever made you come before Din, you muse, as your cunt pulses around him and you near the edge. No man had ever made you feel like this - not just physically, but emotionally, too. Sex was presented to you before your marriage as a duty, not a pleasure. With Din, though, lovemaking felt like the most beautiful, natural expression of the spiritual connection that existed between the two of you.

You come almost simultaneously, Din groaning into your shoulder as he fills you with his seed, you biting your lip to stop yourself from crying out. Still inside you, he kisses you, over and over, your hands trailing through his wavy brown locks and fingers grazing against the rough, patchy stubble of his jaw.

For a moment, you think he’s about to say something. But all he does is kiss you.

It’s still dark outside when you wake, but there’s a comforting glow inside the cottage. You sit up in bed, turning to see Din stoking a small fire in the hearth. He has lit the lamp on the mantle, its flickering yellow flame casting light and shadow through the glass.

You dress quickly, shivering as your body adjusts to the colder air after the warmth of your shared bed, and cross the room to the little cupboard that holds the few pieces of crockery Din owns. By the time he has climbed the attic ladder to rouse the boy, you’ve set the table for a simple breakfast of bread, butter, and the last of the jam you’d brought with you.

Gró’s fair hair peeks over his father’s broad shoulder as Din carries him down the ladder. The little boy is still half-asleep, eyes still closed and nestled into the blacksmith’s frame. Din carefully slides him into his usual seat at the table, ruffling his son’s hair as Gró rubs his eyes and yawns.

“I think some bread and jam will help wake you up, hmmm?” You take a couple of slices of bread from the dish and place them on the boy’s little plate, before pushing the jar of jam in his direction. His dark eyes widen as he looks at you, astonished. This is a rare treat, indeed: usually it’s you or Din who spreads the sweet conserve on his bread, as Gró is liable to be heavy-handed. But this is not a day for rules or restrictions.

“You can have as much as you like, little one.”

The tears threaten at the sight of Gró enthusiastically scraping the jam out of the earthenware pot, a huge smile on his face as he spoons it liberally onto the soda bread. He takes a huge bite and hums delightedly, before turning to you and beaming. The little boy already has blobs of jam on his cheeks and nose, and the sight makes you chuckle.

Din returns to the main room carrying a small knapsack containing Gró’s things. He places it alongside your saddlebags before he joins the two of you at the table, giving your hand a squeeze that, you suspect, is intended to reassure him as much as it is you. He keeps a smile on his face, keeps his tone cheery and light, even as his eyes glisten with tears.

You are saddling Réaltín in the dawn light when Peigí appears down the lane, wrapped in a rough brown cloak and riding her small grey mount. She dismounts swiftly and nods to you.

“All set?”

“I think so. I left the two on their own for a little bit, just to… well, you know.” You swallow hard and look in the direction of the forge. “It’ll be hard for them.”

Peigí hums in agreement. “Aye, ’twill. But Din’s right. And hopefully that bollocks of a so-called husband will be out of the picture soon enough and you can come home. The prick.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the venom in her tone. “Hopefully. I’m awful grateful to you and your sister, Peigí. I mean, maybe we’re being overly cautious, but…”

She shakes her head, russet curls bouncing. “Not a bit of it. You can never tell with a fucker like that.” The cottage door opens, and Din appears, Gró securely held in his strong arms.

“And there’s the best boy in all of Ireland!” Peigí races over, taking the knapsack and planting a kiss on Gró’s cheek. “We should probably get going, girleen.”

She tactfully retreats to the horses, giving you, Din, and Gró some space to say your goodbyes. You feel the blacksmith’s broad arm snake around your waist, uncaring as to whether Peigí saw the affectionate gesture - or, more likely, all too aware that she knew exactly what was going on.

The little boy brings a hand up to touch his father’s handsome face, big eyes scanning Din’s features as if he’s committing them to memory.

“Ná bíodh eagla ort, grá mo chroí.” [Don’t be afraid, love] The blacksmith smiles, but he’s fighting back the tears as he kisses his son’s golden hair. Instinctively, you rest your head on Din’s shoulder, trying to keep your own emotions in check.

Gró’s dark eyes fill with tears and his father comforts him with cuddles. “You’ll have a lovely time on the farm, won’t you? And you’ll look after her while you’re on your visit.” He looks at you, and you nod, smiling at Gró.

“Of course he will. He’s a big, brave lad.” The little boy grins at the praise before flinging his arms around Din’s neck for a final tight hug.

“Be good, and take this.” Din reaches into his pocket to produce a small, silvery chain, evidently made by his own hands. A metal disc dangles from it, and you realise that Din has engraved it with his son’s name. He places it over the boy’s head, smiling at Gró as he picks up the pendant and coos at the shiny object.

“We should get going, lads.” Peigí’s voice carries in the still of the early morning, and Din passes his son to you. Gró nuzzles against you, still holding on to the little pendant that hangs from his neck.

Din’s long fingers find your hand and press something into your palm. He leans in to kiss your cheek. His voice, warm but wavering with emotion, whispers in your ear.

“Is tú mo ghrá thú, mo chuisle.” [You are my love, my darling.]

You stifle the sob that’s rising in your chest.

“I love you too, Din.”

Peigí’s sister Rosie shares her sister’s hardy, forthright personality and her tightly curled auburn hair, but not a lot else. Where Peigí is small, Rosie is tall; where Peigí is talkative and open, Rosie is quiet and reserved. Still, her welcome is genuine, her home comfortable, and you feel at ease from the moment you cross the threshold after a long day’s journey to some semblance of sanctuary.

You retire quickly once you’ve been fed and watered, Peigí sharing with Rosie while you and Gró make do with a settle bed. The little boy falls asleep almost immediately, and you gently kiss his soft cheek, willing him to know that it comes from his father, too.

With the household abed, you can finally look again at Din’s parting gift to you: a chain and pendant, similar to Gró’s. Where the little boy’s bears his name, however, yours carries a symbol, evidently engraved into the metal by the blacksmith himself. Three interconnected spirals - an ancient symbol, one that you recognise from a dolmen tomb that stands in a field not far from your birthplace, one that people in the locality have long speculated about.

Father Carthy would say it is a symbol of the Holy Trinity: three divine beings in one, a sign of early Christians in Ireland. But the storytellers in the townland say it’s far older than any church, its meaning lost to the mists of time.

You trace the three spirals with your fingertip in the darkness. Three as one. For you, that is meaning enough.

He was alone for a long time, Din reminds himself - alone before you, alone even before Gró. He can be alone again.

That said, though, there’s being alone and not knowing anything different, and being alone now. He still automatically goes to the foot of the attic ladder every morning, ready to wake his little boy. He hides the bowl and cup Gró usually uses, because the sight of them makes his heart ache. He throws himself into his work, distracting himself with glowing-hot metal.

And then there is your absence. He had never lived with a woman, not like this; never shared his bed night after night, never loved like this. For the first few days, he wakes with a start when he reaches for your warm, soft body and realises you’re not there.

He tries not to think about the reality of the situation: the fact that, even if you were to return home tomorrow, you could never be together, at least not while Searlas lived. There are nights when, alone in his bed and desperate for the embrace of your arms, violence tempts Din. In his younger years, he might already have taken matters into his own hands.

As the days and weeks tick by with no sign of your so-called husband, and no word from Father Carthy, the blacksmith reminds himself to be patient - and not to fall into complacency. He had never really lost that sense of looking over his shoulder: from childhood, from the rebellion, and now he felt glad of it. No one from the community mentions you to him, though he knows they must have heard by now that you had been hiding from Searlas at the forge. He does his repairs as usual, driving into the village with his pony and trap to return items and collect others, pulling his kerchief over his face as he makes his way through the main street lest he spy a troop of redcoats.

One of the regular customers asks about Gró when he’s returning her extra-large soup pan, newly mended. Din hesitates, but keeps his expression steady.

“He’s spending time with some…cousins,” he explains. “On a farm. It’ll be good for him, he’ll learn from the experience.”

The woman doesn’t ask further, pays up, and retreats back into her little house as Din turns his horse and cart for home. As he gathers speed, he hears a voice calling his name. Father Carthy, clad in his long black cassock and wearing a broad-brimmed hat, is waving to him from the end of the laneway that leads to the chapel.

“Could you spare me a few moments, Din? Follow me up to the parish house.”

The priest’s house is a decently-sized cottage, larger but not too dissimilar to the majority of the dwellings in the village. Father Carthy might be responsible for the majority of the believers in the community, but his is not the “established” church, the official church of the state and gentry, and as such his home is a far cry from the grand, double-fronted manse occupied by the vicar who tends to the local worthies. Even the location of the chapel, tucked off a narrow laneway behind the main street, is a testament to the lower status of this particular branch of religion.

Din enters, taking off his hat and kerchief, and follows the cleric’s gesture to take a seat near the hearth. Father Carthy does the same, pulling his chair closer to Din.

“I have news. I haven’t been able to find a way to dissuade Searlas from seeking her out, but a little bird tells me that they’re going to change the troops again in a week or so. The current crop has been…rowdy.” The priest purses his lips, mulling over the stories he has heard of public drunkenness, fighting, and even soldiers nonchalantly carousing with women in the pubs and on the street. He decides not to give Din too many of the gory details.

“So they’re going to be sent elsewhere, split up. Clonmel, I heard, for some, and Castlebar for others. Maybe a few to Cork. There’s ructions, as you can imagine - a rare thing to break up a regiment - but…”

Din meets the priest’s meaningful gaze. “But…he would be gone.”

Father Carthy nods. “It’s not a solution, not forever, but it at least would let her come home to her own place again, and Gró home to you. You were right to send the boy with her, too - who knows what might have happened had he come knocking?”

Din closes his eyes and furrows his brow at the priest’s turn of phrase: “her own place”. It was a reminder of the truth, that you were not - and could not be - his.

Father Carthy gets to his feet, a signal to Din that it was time to go. “In the meantime, I’m going to look more closely into the canon law around annulment. I’m not hopeful, but maybe she might be able to build a case for it. He did abandon her, after all. Anyway -” he opens the door, and Din exits “- it would free her, at least, from the threat of him.”

The blacksmith thanks Father Carthy as he saddles up to head back to the forge, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks. On the road home, Din smiles to himself as he thinks about seeing Gró again, holding his little boy in his arms, watching you give him an extra spoonful of jam at breakfast, tucking him in to sleep at night. He thinks about your eyes, your smile; the feeling and taste of your mouth; the scent of your skin.

No matter what, he promises himself, no matter the rules or the law or whatever a piece of paper might say: he’ll kiss you again, hold you, take you to bed, and show you how much he missed you.

A couple of days later, as dusk settles, Din lights the lamp and finishes clearing away his lone dinner bowl and mug. Anticipation courses through him as he thinks about seeing two - no, three - places set for the evening meal again. Soon. Soon, they’ll be home.

He yawns and stretches, a hand reaching up to scratch his wavy, dark locks. It had been a hard day in the forge: a run of horses that needed to be shod, urgent repairs, and the difficulty of managing the work itself as well as the bellows and the fire, all by himself. An early night, he decides, might be in order.

He’s in his shirt and breeches when he hears the sound. A horse, its footfall cautious and uncertain, as though it had not been down the laneway before. A rider, barking commands and swearing at the animal. Din pulls his kerchief from his pocket and fastens it around his face before climbing swiftly up the attic ladder. His hand reaches into the thatch, on the other side of the house from Gró’s little bed, and retrieves a pike, smaller in design than the ones he’d hammered by the dozen in 1798 but no less lethal in the right hands. He grips the pike in his right hand, hidden from view while he opens the door with his left.

The rider struggles off his horse, evidently drunk. His scarlet tunic is unmistakable. The light from the cottage illuminates his features: pale, washed-out complexion; unhappy mouth set in a miserable line; hard blue eyes that offered nothing but coldness.

“Where the fuck is she, then, the stupid fucking bitch?”

Din’s fist tightens around the pike, but he holds his ground, still peering around the door. “Who is it? Who are you?”

Searlas swaggers drunkenly towards the house. “I know you’re a tinker, but you don’t have to play thick with me. You know who I am.” He beats his chest, peacocking as he nears Din’s threshold. “I’m a soldier of the fucking crown, so I am. And I’m here for what’s mine.”

He pokes Din’s broad chest, seeming a little startled at how solid the blacksmith actually is. Searlas’s watery eyes meet Din’s stern gaze.

“So… where the fuck is she?”

“Whoever you’re after,” Din says, maintaining the same tone he’s used throughout the encounter so far, “they’re not here. I live alone.”

Searlas pushes Din in frustration, and Din recoils a little at the stench of cheap poitín from the other, smaller man. “I know she’s fucking here. The whole fucking place knows.” He steps back and starts to roar upwards, as if addressing you in an attic hiding place.

“Did you not think I’d find you? You’re that fucking stupid, you would think that. I’m here now, time to go home. You’re mine, remember?” He shakes his fist, swaying a little.

“She’s not here. And even if she was, why do you care so much now? You left her on her own for years, apart from all the other things you did to her.”

Searlas stares at Din, a look of disgust on his face. “So you do know her? She’s full of shit, so she is. Full of lies. Not to be trusted.”

He wheels around again, almost losing his balance completely this time. “You were seen, you lying cunt!”

Din’s fingers clench and release over and over around the pike. He swallows the urge to run this miserable fucker through.

The soldier looks at him through glassy, drunken eyes. “She’s mine, see. And I think I want to take what’s mine. Time she was taught a lesson.” He roars the last word, as if hoping you’ll hear him and emerge.

The blacksmith edges out slightly and stands firmer, broader, in his front door. Searlas stares at him accusingly.

“D’you fuck her?”

Din holds his body and face completely still, focusing on the grip of the pike and his breathing.

“I said, did you fuck her? Did you fuck my wife?”

Din takes a deep breath. “Do you have the right to call her your wife, after what you did?”

Searlas’s jaw drops in astonishment. Din knew that he was just a bog-standard Irish Catholic soldier signed up for cannon fodder like all the others, but it was clear that the other man believed his uniform made him one of the “betters”, no matter what.

“What did you say to me?”

“I said, do you have the right to call her your wife?”

Searlas almost growls with drunken fury. “I have the right to call her whatever I fucking like.” Din notices his fist tightening by his side and steels himself as the other man approaches, menacingly.

“I’ll call her what I fucking like,” Searlas repeats, “including calling her what she is. A slut. A liar. A frigid, barren, useless excuse for a woman. And now? She’s filthy, tinker’s whore. That’s all she is. A stupid, ugly, disgusting tinker’s whore.”

The speed with which Din moves takes the soldier by surprise, as does the bright flash of the pike’s blade as it reflects the moonlight. The blacksmith uses the long handle first, roaring as he beats Searlas away with some well-placed blows. He moves with agility and confidence as the soldier fumbles in his sleeves for a weapon, and produces a narrow switchblade dagger.

“I’ll fucking show you, tinker,” he roars, the poitín giving him an exaggerated confidence. “I’ll skin you alive, fucking another man’s wife.”

He lunges at Din, but a swift, measured flick of the pike’s bladed end knocks the dagger to the ground and tears a hole in the scarlet tunic. Now Din presses his advantage, driving Searlas back to his horse.

“Get out of here and leave her alone. Forever. Don’t you ever come near her again.”

A more sober man would have cut and run, and would do so wisely. But Searlas’s selfishness combined with his drunkenness made for a terrible cocktail of aggression and abuse.

“And what will you do, tinker? They should have hanged every last one of you rebel scum in ‘98. Pity that scalp wasn’t ripped from your skull with a pitchcap.” He pats his thighs, as if seeking another blade. “You couldn’t defend yourselves then, why do you think you could stand up to the king’s army now?” He cocks his head and looks at Din, eyes menacing.

“Or are you just that desperate to defend a thick, useless slut like my wife?”

The grunting, the roars, and the sickening sound of a strong, sturdy fist meeting flesh and bone resonate in the stillness of the twilight. And then another sound, louder still: the unmistakable thud of a man’s body hitting the cold ground.

#tempered in the fire fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #din djarin au #blacksmith!din djarin #blacksmith!din djarin x f!reader #din djarin fanfiction #historical AU #the mandalorian AU #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedrostories #the mandalorian #din djarin #tempered fic

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wangxianficfinder · 6 months ago

Text

In the mood for...

May 19th

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1. Hii! For the next itmf I was wondering if anyone had anything with wwx resorting to cannibalism after being thrown in the burial mounds?

🔒 the aftertaste of desperation by moonshine (princemin) (M, 4k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Nightmares, Cannibalism, Corpse Eating, Burial Mounds, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Trauma, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, welcome to my agenda: let wwx have a breakdown, Additional Warnings In Author's Note)

🔒 Three Months, but One Day Shy by mondengel (M, 1k, Angst, Gore, Cannibalism, Horror, 🔒 PodFic by flamingwell)

🔒 my eyes got used to the darkness by curiositykilled (M, 4k, JC & WWX, JC & WWX & JYL, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Body Horror, Implied Cannibalism, Dehumanization, Sunshot Campaign, YLLZ WWX, Demonic Cultivation, PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Ghosts, Disordered Eating, Referenced Animal Abuse, 🔒 PodFic by flamingwell)

a kind of emptiness by ScarlettStorm (E, 11k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Eating Disorders, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorder Recovery, low angst, Happy Ending, seriously in spite of the tags this fic is very soft, Tender smut, Frottage, Praise Kink, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

💖 the absence of hunger by parsnipit (M, 27k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Starvation, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Body Worship, Praise Kink, ft. WWX's really fucked up relationship with food, PTSD, Flashbacks, Blood and Injury, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Cannibalism)

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2. Hii! For the next itmf,

A. I was wondering if there are any fics of wangxian during the opium war? Or any fics set in that time period?

B. Concubine wwx who already has children/yuan falling in love lwj? (Who is not the current emperor/king) @songtaegguk

2B)

Red Lotus Blooming at Sunset by janewritesstuff (Jane_de_Plaine) (E, 18k, WangXian, LXC/WWX, LWJ/WWX/LXC, implied LXC / Other(s), Royalty, Historical, Female WWX, Concubine WWX, Harem, Threesome - F/M/M, Porn With Plot, Consensual Infidelity, Voyeurism, Angst with a Happy Ending, extended tags in author's note, Dark LXC) mind the tags

all rivers flow safely to sea by GenerallyBookish (E, 140k, WangXian, WIP, Angst with a Happy Ending, Memory Loss, Mutual Pining, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Royalty, Historical, Historical References, Ancient China, Historical Inaccuracy, Happy Ending, Oblivious WWX, A/B/O, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Soft WangXian, Jealousy, Idiots in Love, Strangers to Lovers, Concubine WWX, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Jealous LWJ, Amnesia, Mpreg, Post Mpreg, Fluff and Angst)

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3. ITMF!! Any modern au/college au fics where the ensemble( wwx, nhs, wq, lwj, lxc, jyl , jgy etc) is just one cracky friend group that does dumb shit that likes to fuck around and find out @yesibest

if you ever feel alone, don’t by livinginaworldofnoise (G, 25k, wangxian, Modern, College/University, Texting, group chat au, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, everyone is chaotic but especially wwx, disaster bi wwx, Matchmaking, Bad Matchmaking, maybe a splash of light angst just for fun, the most dumbassery u have ever seen, Mutual Pining, Miscommunication, an unholy amount of miscommunication really, chatfic, now with a bonus valentine’s day chapter, Podfic Available)

Carefully Orchestrated Plans (no strings attached) by Maledictius (T, 101k, WangXian, SongXiao, ChengSang, XuanLi, MianQing, NingYu, Modern AU, Chatting & Messaging, Orchestra, Fluff and Humor, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gossip)

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4. Hello, love an appreciate what you’re doing it’s amazing. For the next itmf, There was a fic finder that was asking for wangxian Addams family aus, and I read all of the suggestions bc I love Addams family aus, do you know of any more in the same vein?

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5. Hi all I hope you are doing well and recovery fast this is a request for ITMF I’m looking for a fic where lan zhan is the flirt to wei ying and not the other way around ❤️ @red-spacekitten

Our Eyes on the Road by etymologyplayground (E, 22k, WangXian, PWP, Getting Together, Road Trips, Modern, Intimacy, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Humor, Banter, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Hand Jobs, Car Sex, Hotel Sex, Dirty Talk, Rimming, Coming Untouched, Sexual Tension, Come Eating) #5 is a hard one in that I can't think of fics where Lan Zhan is overtly flirtatious like Wei Ying is, so here are some ones where Lan Zhan is pursuing Wei Ying in his own way lol

gotta get lost (if you wanna be found) by Spodumene (E, 27k, WangXian, Modern, High School via Flashbacks, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Underage Kissing, Identity Porn, Dubcon of the Phoenix Mountain variety, Eventual Smut, Overstimulation, Mild CNC Play, Getting Together, Happy Ending)

Love 'em and leave 'em fast by danegen (E, 23k, WangXian, Modern, Set in America, POV WWX, meet creepy, rough but fairly vanilla sex, Bisexual WWX; LWJ FUCKS, not a coffee shop au, not NOT a coffee shop AU, but a secret third thing that sometimes involves a coffee shop)

🔒 Take my heart by LadyKG (Not rated, 22k, wangxian, Fix-It, WWX POV, Time Travel, WWX is oblivious but not THAT oblivious thank fuck, JC is done with Wifi’s shit, LXC is an angel, but when isn’t he lbh, author is biased because of love for characters)

Back up and dream again by The Silverfish (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 3k, WangXian, LXC & LWJ, Fix-It, Time Travel, Fluff, Flirting, Cute, Embarrassed WWX)

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6. Hi, 👋

Itmf

Are there any works where

A) WY parents prepared him for emergency (if they die). May be survival skills or maybe survival kit and alert to a friend.

B) WY parents taught him not to allow others belittle him (abuse)

C) WY parents told him to not become a Jiang disciple

Thank you!

6A)

Forked Path by nirejseki (G, 3k, WWX/WRH, Sect Leader Nie/WRH, WRH & Sect Leader Nie, WWX is more mentioned than appearing, Sir Not Appearing In This Fic, despite it being about him, Canon Divergence, WX Not Raised In the Jiang, Somewhat crack) I'm not sure if this one counts because it's a rare pair (Wen Ruohan/Wei Wuxian) where Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze make a deal with Wen Ruohan for him to take Wei Wuxian in to the Wen Sect if they die, specifically because they don't want him to be raised in the streets or by the Jiang sect.

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7. Hi 👋🏼 Thanks for your amazing work . For the next itmf can you plz recommend some fics where the Jiang Cheng (or both Jiang Siblings) are older than Wei Ying . Like at least a few years, 3 to 5 or more , and they protect him .Preferably a complete work ❤️

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8. itmf some didn't-know-we-were-dating type fics! any where one of wwx or lwj think they're dating or engaged and the other one doesn't know. any manner of we're-just-hanging-out or fwb or it's-just-casual-between-us is good. thanks!

without your new eyes by anaphoricae (E, 66k, WangXian, Modern, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Sexuality Discovery, Self-Discovery, Literal Sleeping Together, (there is so much sleeping in this fic), mentions of WWX/others and LWJ/others, Drunk LWJ, Teacher LWJ, WWX is a… throws dart… computer scientist, No Angst, Jealous WWX, Flirty WWX, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Fluff, Non-Sexual Intimacy, WWX's Love Language is Physical Touch, Guess what: even more non-sexual sleeping together, the plot of the fic is just… co-sleeping, call it the Nap Fic ™, Podfic Available, WWX isn't so much 'oblivious' as he is wilfully blocking some feelings subconsciously, WWX 'idk how I feel' to 'I'm gonna marry him' pipeline)

so hot you're hurting my feelings by isabilightwood (E, 40k, WangXian, JYL/WQ, Modern, Oblivious LWJ, Didn't Know They Were Dating, no moms were harmed in the making of this fic, mama lan took LQR in the divorce, LWJ Has Friends, all wwx characterization decisions were made to make lwj pine harder for his own boyfriend, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Bottom LWJ, Halloween, WWX's birthday, Sub LWJ, Light Dom/sub, Spanking)

be still, my foolish heart by mirrorofprinces (E, 6k, WangXian, Modern, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Blow Jobs, Shower Sex, Misunderstandings, One innocent rabbit who did nothing wrong, based on a reddit post, Getting Together)

~*~

9. looking for fics where wwx didn't die and was soon made aware of lwj's punishment. wwx going mad about it? sure. wwx nearly wiping out the lans? sure. wwx kidnapping lwj? sure. Any recommendations please

~*~

10. Hi! For the next ITMF post, can you recommend some fics where after wwx gets resurrected by mxy he is in pain and doesn't know what happend and then lwj shows up with the juniors and he's like 'lan zhan, help me' and he falls into his arms. Actually I don't really remember if it's a specific fic or just in the mood for something similar, but thank you for time ♥

🔒 they do not fall to earth by LtLJ (G, 2k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Episode Related, CQL canon, Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst)

~*~

11. Hi all! In the mood for post-canon fics with a focus on Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling bonding? Thank you!

singing through the dark by twigofwillow (G, 13k, JL & WWX, WangXian, Post-Canon, Yunmeng bros reconciliation if you squint, angst with a tiny bit of fluff)

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 63k, WangXian, WWX & JL, Post-Canon, Protective WWX, Protective JL, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Reluctant Matchmaker JL)

~*~

12. Do you know of any wheelchair use wwx that isn't thread of love? Thank you so much mods for being amazing 🩵🩵🩵

How did I end up with this Frozen Heart? by Grace_ShadowWolf (TaubeLePigeon) (T, 53k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Fix-It, PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, YP!WWX, twin prides of yunmeng are horrified at the relationship between their future selves, YP!WWX has short hair, Canon Divergence, Self-Indulgent, wangxian get together early, Songfic, JC Bashing, LXC Bashing)

Gentians of Yesterday by KobaltBlu (G, 11k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Paralyzed WWX, Lan WWX)

~*~

13. hi for itmf do you know any fics where wwx knows lwj doesnt love him back? but in the end lwj does love him back. similar to sarah-yyy’s rebuttable presumption verse. thank you sm!

When the Words Stop Coming by mrcformoso (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canonical Character Death, Love Confessions, Rejection, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending)

Blooming You a Garden Inside Me by xxxMiaHikarixxx (G, 66k, WangXian, WIP, Hanahaki Disease, LWJ's inability to understand his feelings, LWJ being a meanie, WWX's first life, Angst, Happy Ending, Pain, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Good Sibling JC, Jiang siblings, One-Sided WWX/WN, Good Friends, everyone loves mr. sunshine, POV Multiple, JC & WWX Talk About Feelings, JZX & WWX Friendship, Good Sibling LXC)

Regret Blossoms by piecrust (G, 7k, WangXian, Hanahaki Disease)

For you by 10thNoNamePerson (T, 17k, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Canon Divergence, No War AU, Teen Wangxian, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Jealous WWX, Soft LWangXian, No Sunshot Campaign)

~*~

14. Hi!! For the next itfm: does anyone have anything with Wei Wuxian getting triggered? I would prefer if it's post canon but everything is fine tbh! Thank you ♡ @menimimimeni

Home, Family; a Safe Feeling by Thinking_of_Wolfie_Fluff (T, 6k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Bittersweet, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Gusu Lan Forehead Ribbon, Gusu Lan Sect, Post-Canon, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Soft WangXian, Married WangXian, WWX Loves LWJ, WangXian in Love, WangXian Get a Happy Ending)

hunters seeking solid ground by Attila (E, 23k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, discussion of canon character death, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, bed sharing, Getting Together, Yearning, Literal Sleeping Together, Really Excessive Amounts of Hurt/Comfort)

The most dangerous thing is to love by KatAnni (E, 113k, WangXian, Golden Core Reveal, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Hurt!WWX, Found Family, Implied/Referenced Torture, POV Multiple, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, Panic Attacks, PTSD, Golden Core Transfer, Golden Core Transfer Fix-it, Medical Procedures, Fainting, Major Character Injury, Blood and Injury, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Asexual JC, homophobia doesn’t exist here, Marriage Proposal, Marriage, Wedding Night, Whump) It's divergent rather than post-canon.

~*~

15. Do you know any fic where, when Wei Wuxian dies, his Golden Core (in JC) vanishes?

~*~

16. heyy admins how are u guys? itmf more longer fics like twelve moons and a fortnight by stiltonbasket? thank you! ❤️

The River Runs Forever by Cerusee (T, 257k, wangxian, JYL & WWX & JC, NHS/JYL, WWX & NHS, character death, BAMF WWX, inventor WWX, sect leader WWX)

~*~

17. I wanted fics where wangxian are killers or partners in crime. It could be every type of fic you know. I just want some where they kill and are loving @quwieiidkd

silhouettes to steal this night by moonsteps (T, 51k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Modern, Assassins & Hitmen, Roommates, Rivals to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Identity Porn, Violence, Blood and Injury, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Secret Identity)

🔒 For good by apathyinreverie (M, 6k, WangXian, Modern, mafia, everyone is a little darker, lxc really needs to practice those people skills, general warning for JGS, Domestic WangXian, Praise Kink, Simp LWJ, BAMF WWX)

So Full Of Love (Wouldn’t Know Where to Start) by witchupbitch (M, 63k, WIP, WangXian, Best Friends, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Possessive LWJ, Protective LWJ, Blood and Violence, Idiots in Love, Humor, Mafia AU, Modern AU, Flirting, shameless WWX, Confident WWX, Explicit Language, Mutual Sexual Tension, dark LWJ, Dark WWX, Exhibitionism Sex, Possessive Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

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artist-ellen · 5 months ago

Note

Heyyy!! Question, what was riding clothes for royal women like? I know skirt and bodice 2-pieces sort of clothing was mostly used. But like in fantasy, were breeches/pants/trousers ever popular in women's riding clothes? If so, do you happen to have any reference picture. Thank youu in advance. Have a lovely day.

I'm a little confused because... that is a very broad question. What Royal women? From what time period? From what country? From what fantasy world???

What I think you're trying to ask is if I know about historical clothing designed for riding animals (potentially horses?) that could help your research for a fantasy setting. (I also think you're asking about Europe based on the skirt-bodice description, so I'll answer mostly about that)

(Princess Lousie, Great Britain riding habit, late 1800s)

The most likely answer you are looking for is the riding habit. A riding specific outfit from Europe in the late 1700s-1800s. The Victorian ladies were getting more and more into hobbies like horse riding and their wardrobes changed to accommodate that.

(Queen Elizabeth ii in a royal riding costume)

Riding habits were gowns that were designed to maintain their modesty/fashion while they rode horses. This meant longer hemlines, and sometimes hidden pants. Looking at bicycle shorts/skirts from the Edwardian era might also help in designing or describing hidden pants.

(Obviously horses were ridden by women in Europe before the 1700s but there wasn't necessarily an associated outfit.)

(Catherine the Great riding side saddle)

A lot of older examples of women riding horses are "side-saddle", so they are able to wear their skirts and ride modestly. So if you're planning an older civilization riding horses but don't want chariot/palaquin/carriage the side-saddle is a good reference point. However if you're bringing up fantasy worlds to ride something non-horse sized, let's say a dragon, it could be too dangerous to ride side-saddle.

The weight-distribution and holding-on ability is very different to a regular saddle. I don't know about you but I wouldn't want to have one saddle loop keeping my seat on a flying dragon.

Generally I want to say that (European) Royal women didn't/don't wear pants to ride horses. At least not until women in general were wearing pants (fashionably), and even then... for official duties, processions, and the like... they still wore skirts. I think Princess Anne doesn't ride side-saddle for some occasions, but Princess Anne is also often wearing her military uniform for such things.

I think if you are looking for historical women wearing trousers to ride horses the majority of references I can think of aren't from Europe. For example in West Asia we have horse-riding women, figures like Mulan, female samurai who rode horses, etc, etc.

(Nellie Brown, you can see the buttons on the front of her skirt. Think of it like a skort with modesty buttons)

TLDR: Most women wore some sort of skirt (sometimes with hidden pants, buttons to make the skirt open and close for more range of movement and modesty, longer hemlines or extra fullness to accommodate the horse in their modesty, etc.) until it was fashionable for women in general in their society to wear pants.

#answered #ramblings #riding habits #riding outfits are fascinating #i tried my best #always double check with your own research #i am not a real historian #best of luck with whatever you are working on #fashion history

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wordsandrobots · 6 months ago

Text

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 Witch 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]

#gundam iron blooded orphans #gundam ibo #g tekketsu #tekketsu no orphans #gundam #turn a gundam #reference #notes #queerness #queer love #queer characters #analysis #spoilers #queer is a reclaimed slur and a term I apply to myself #heaven help you if you think this is the place to argue about that

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blackcat419 · 1 year ago

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How different cultures in ASOIAF view cats pt. 1

In our world, culture and religion shape how we view animals, and for this post, specifically cats. An example of how cats a view differently in cultures can be seen in Islamic cultures and Romani Cultures. Because cats clean themselves often, they are viewed as clean by Muslims and can be kept with the family. But for Romani, because of the Marime which states that the genital region is a source of impurity, a cat licking its own lower regions this becomes unclean. Roma still keep pets but they generally don’t let them sleep in their bed or lick them. This is all contrasted by American culture where a pet is viewed as a member of the family and will be referred to as the baby or child of their owners and is allowed to sleep in bed with them.

It’s so interesting and I want to expand this to how Westerosi people see cats and what types of cats they keep.

Dorne

Dorne takes a lot of inspiration from the Arabic would and I think it only makes sense for them to have a similar view of cats.

Cats keeping themselves clean makes them the perfect pets for humans. Cats are also known to pray to the seven if given a seat in a sept (cats love prayer rugs and it’s really cute). Both religious and hygienic, cats are viewed as more sophisticated than other animals and thus are kept closer by their families.

The salty Dornish are best known for their love of cats with many ancient breeds residing in their homes. The green orphans will sail with a cat or two and give them a fish from the days haul. Cats are also seen as omens of good fortune and many shops have a resident cat. Septa also keep cats control pests and because they will sleep at the feet of the seven when their statue is warm. The Turkish Van and Turkish Angora are both old and rare breeds of cats that would flourish in Dorne.

The Sandy Dornish also enjoy cats. Because cats naturally retain more water than dogs, they are fitted to live in the desert. These cats are some of the more wild ones as it’s common for the domestic cat to mix is wild cats. During harsh sandstorms, the Dornish will wrap the cats up in a blanket to protect them from the elements. Cats are known to love this and scene request it when their is no sand storm. The Savannah cat is a cross between wild Serval and a domestic short hair cat.

The stony Dornish are less attached to cats than the Sandy or salty Dornish. Every house hold does have a cat and it’s common for cats to sleep in the room of their favorite person, but the stony Dornish believe that cats have some impurity to them because they lick their own genitals. Families will often perform a cleaning ritual on their cats by wiping them down with a wet cloth to cleanse them of impurity. Cats in stony Dorne are slender and very angular, making them great at slipping through stony hills and along steep walls. The Cornish Rex and Devon Rex are popular cat breeds.

The Iron Islands

Cats were a big part of Scandinavian culture. The goddess Freya had her chariot pulled by Norwegian Forest cats (also called fairy cats) and it was custom for a groom to give his bride a kitten as a wedding gift. For Vikings specifically, cats were kept to control the pests on ship.

Because the Iron Islands is more based on mythical Viking culture than historical Scandinavian culture, we can have some fun with the cats.

Ships are a big part of the iron islands culture, so each ship should have a cat or two. Perhaps to “bless” a ship before it sets off, a kitten is brought into the ship and makes it their own. I also see the Ironman have a very communal ownership of the cats. Fisherman will give the cats some of their catch as part of a good luck ceremony and people will set up small cat houses for them. They could also view a cat staying with you as a sign of good luck. But because of Thai communal ownership, it would probably be taboo to try and keep a cat to yourself. The iron islanders see a cat as not belonging to a person but to a ship or island.

Types of cats I think the iron islanders would have. Because they’re kind of weird, I think some weird breeds would fit. The Selkirk Rex is known for playing in water, being loyal to their human, and also have some curly fur!

The Andal Kingdoms

The Andals had a similar relationship to cats that Europeans had before the Black Death. For the Andals, cats were viewed as mainly pest control for their farms and cities. People rarely tries to socialize kittens when born which led to people believing cats were naturally aggressive.

It wasn’t until Maesters discovered that cats help prevent the spread of disease by killing rats that cats became a more popular household animal.

The reach was the first kingdom to become very found of the cat. They were perfect help for their farms and perfect pest control for old town. Old Town holds a celebration of cats each year to thank them for preventing extreme disease outbreaks from happening in the city. The Redwyne family is famous for breeding Persians cats that resemble the pugs they breed with short faces. Rich families have a few Persian cats that they dress up as little lords and ladies as an extra show of wealth.

In the storm lands and riverlands, cats are seen as antithetical to the land. The kingdom’s natural wetness drives cats away. Fisherman are often at odds with local cat populations as they fight over fish. Despite the general population’s disinterest in cats, they are a common staple at inns and bars as they keep rats away from the straw and wheat. Patrons consider seeing a cat with folded ears as a lucky charm that their stay at the inn will be a pleasant one.

I reached the max amount of photos for this post so we will continue with westerlands, the vale, north, beyond the wall, and valyrians!

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf headcanons #cats in asoiaf #HotD #house of the dragon #hotd headcanon #cats in hotd #I love cats

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humbledragon669 · 21 days ago

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S2E2 - The Clue Write Up P1 - Land of Uz (2500 BC) and London (Present Day) up to the credits

Ooh it’s been a while since got to use an in-screen caption as one of the headers and I am delighted to be able to do it again! I may well just use the same two headers as we switch between the two time periods in this episode, just for simplicity. Sue me.

There’s a tiny detail that’s been applied to this opening shot that I absolutely love – the video here has had an of effect applied to it to give it a vintage film feel. Sorry, that’s as close as I come to describing it with any sort of eloquence – I’m referring to the “fake” black marks and scratches that appear on the image briefly (you can see a couple on the header above). It doesn’t last long (only until Crawley finishes his first line), but I think this subtle little effect sets us very firmly in a cinematic (cinematographic?) context. I also feel like the colouring of the image has been altered for the same purpose – it puts me in mind of one of those historical films from the 50s and 60s, like Ben Hur and Spartacus (which I suspect is probably the whole point).

There’s something else interesting about Crawley’s appearance in this scene – his sunglasses. Cast your mind back to episode 3 in the first season (Hard Times), in which we saw him appearing without sunglasses all the way up to (and including) 33AD. I did comment on the appearance of the sunglasses in the 42AD scene in the write up for it:

I’m not sure I actually find this sudden appearance of sunglasses some 2500 years earlier all that interesting. There’s a part of me that feels that they have probably been included here because we, as an audience, have come to expect Crawley/Crowley’s costume to include a pair of stylised sunglasses by this point. I’d actually be strangely satisfied with that if it was the case – I feel like the reason behind his choosing to wear them could be so much more interesting if this was simply a “continuity error”.

Just wanted to include this because I am thrilled Aziraphale finally gets a really bad-ass entrance. How many times have we seen Crowley sauntering his way into a scene, looking like the coolest thing on Earth (and knowing it)? So glad the angel gets a turn at that here. That said. Why exactly is it that Aziraphale has happened to show up at this place and time? As we will come to find out shortly, Crawley is actually acting with Heaven’s authority so I don’t think the angel would have been sent there. It would present an interesting parallel to Crowley’s supposed knack of knowing when the angel is in trouble, but also resurfaces the suggestion about them being aware of the other’s whereabouts more often than not. I have to say, based on the conversation between them here, that seems unlikely – this exchange feels nothing but businesslike to me, cold even. Aziraphale even goes so far as to apologise (unapologetically) for having to do his job. We do learn that it has been about 500 years since they’ve seen each other, which is a nice little piece of backstory to have. I also consider it interesting to see Crowley providing a prompt to Aziraphale on how to complete his task, which provides a loose mirror parallel to what we saw Before the Beginning, that time with Aziraphale prompting his newfound friend that the incantations (for want of a better word) were not complete.

Side note: don’t you just love those little goats for staying exactly where they’ve been put? Pretty sure most animals would have scarpered extremely quickly when a huge flaming ball appeared above them, never mind having another being literally appearing from thin air in a really spiky portal of light. They must be some very calm goats.

Given the light show that Aziraphale has brought with him to make an imposing entrance on a demon, I’m pretty impressed with the restraint Crawley shows when he responds here – I mean he’s not exactly known for his patience is he? I also wonder if Aziraphale’s comment about jokes is meant to be a throwback to Hastur’s vehemence that he doesn’t like them, but the line is so throw-away that I can’t see what relevance it would add at this point. What I do find interesting is that, now we’re no longer in the “present day” of this season, we see Aziraphale struggling with his preconceived notions of right/good and wrong/evil. It’s something we saw quite a lot of in the first season, in both historical and “present” timelines. In the second season though, what with Aziraphale no longer working for Heaven, we tend to see it a lot less. We saw it in the first episode in the Before the Beginning segment, and we’ll see it again in the coming episodes, but predominantly in the historical scenes. There’s something about the fact that Aziraphale appears less conflicted about morality once he has been removed from the morality-defining authority, become more connected to humanity, and is found to be exercising his free will that I find deeply profound. No wonder the poor guy took 6000 years to realise that being Good isn’t just about following orders, especially when you consider that instruction is tied to his very existence. That whole thing is a big concept, and I struggled to put it into any words that made sense, so I hope I’ve at least been kind of clear. Basically, what I wanted to say was that I love that the historical scenes are being used as a way to remind us of the character development that Aziraphale has gone through over the millennia – they show us where he came from. And it’s not just the angel that gets this treatment:

We haven’t seen this version of Crawley/Crowley for quite a while, have we? The one that takes such delight in his mischief. And in case you missed it, we really should have known what he was up to – you can see two birds taking flight in the background behind his head, with an accompanying “caw” to draw attention to their presence.

I’m including that gif for no other reason that I find it Muriel’s impersonation of a goose adorable. I do wonder what exactly would have been deemed important though, if Job’s farm, camels, goat, oxen, children, and geese are all disposable. I’m not going to go into the underlying subtext of the bet that has been made between God and Satan here – the story itself is little changed from its original biblical source so I feel like it’s a bit out of scope for an episode write up. What is interesting to see is that the item on the list that Aziraphale balks at is the same as the one that Crowley has previously demonstrated (on more than one occasion) is his “line in the sand” for unacceptable acts – killing children. This will also be the first time, chronologically, that we see Aziraphale take his doubts to other angelic beings (some of whom are his superiors). I’m assuming his way of doing things is a little more diplomatic than Crowley’s was when he was in his angelic state, even if it is just as (un)fruitful.

This attitude towards Sitis and Job keeping their existing children rather than having them replaced with new ones says a lot about the Heavenly standard when it comes to understanding humanity and its eccentricities; his reasoning here being that it shouldn’t matter if Job’s existing children are murdered senselessly, as long as they’re replaced with an equal (or greater) number of different children. There is no appreciation of the complexities behind human relationships, desires, or emotions. I feel like it makes the fact that both Gabriel and Michael claim to understand the difference between the subtle technical differences between “killing someone” and “not stopping someone from killing someone” pretty ironic, particularly when they are taking advantage of this technicality to maintain their stance of being the good guys. And all said in such a convincing (and convinced) tone. Gabriel’s stance really only makes sense when you take it out of humanity’s context, which I think is why it’s just not something Aziraphale would ever be comfortable with.

Alright, we’ve jumped back into the present day to find Aziraphale apparently deep in thought about something. My take on it, and I think it’s a fairly common one, is that the whole Job sequence up to this point is a flashback as seen through Aziraphale’s eyes. (Side note: a cash register ringing noise is an interesting sound effect to employ to highlight the placards here, seeing as we all know the angel never willingly sells a book) There are a couple of things I picked up on during this delightful little scene, the first of which is this line:

AZIRAPHALE: I just didn’t see you coming.

I don’t think it would be a huge leap of faith to say that this line is probably not meant to be limited to this scene, but to Gabriel’s appearance on the whole. I don’t think it’s a huge revelation, I just love that it’s dropped in there so casually. And just as a quick note, I had previously wondered where Gabriel had been that he was able to sneak up on Aziraphale so easily, but it turns out that he would have been in plain sight as he approached the desk:

I love the way Aziraphale is bothered that somebody is bringing order to his chaos. It’s my belief that those books are likely arranged in such a way that only he knows how to find anything. After all, customers can’t buy books if they can’t find them, can they? The idea that somebody might actually be bringing some order to that must be distressing. It’s alright though, seeing as nobody will ever find anything they’re looking for using Gabriel’s sorting system anyway.

We also have the first reference to the Buddy Holly song “Everyday” in this scene. I’m really pleased that it was included in the second season – apparently it was something Terry was really keen to use as a device in the first season. The script book even includes stage directions that the soundtrack for most of the end credits should be stylised versions of the song. The story goes that when David Arnold presented his version of the theme tune for the first season, it was deemed to be so appropriate that the “Everyday” theme was dropped. I do absolutely love the theme tune we got. I also love that “Everyday” was brought back in for the second season. Both things can be true 😊

Last point of interest for this scene. The book that Jim reads from is “A Tale of Two Cities”. I will confess I haven’t read it, and used Wikipedia to summarise the plot, which as I understand it revolves around a central character who is compelled to disassociate himself from the wrongdoings of his family. There’s a drunken man that testifies on behalf of the main character and helps to get him acquitted of a crime. There’s a trip to Paris in 1792 that sees the main character imprisoned in the Bastille and the same man that helped acquit the main character travels to Paris in 1793 in an attempt to rescue him. There’s also a character called Gabelle, whose request for assistance in a prison escape leads to the capture of the main character.

It’s vague I’ll grant you, and I am sure I have missed a lot of the finer plot points. With that said, I don’t think I’d be alone in feeling like there are more than a few similarities to the 1793 Paris scene from Hard Times. Paris, the year, a prison rescue, and that name that’s awfully similar to Gabriel… It makes me wonder if this might be a Clue as to Aziraphale’s true purpose in Paris, and I suspect there might be a nice little project here to look at parallels between the novel and the 1793 storyline, but that would probably involve reading the original novel. In case you had missed it, time is not something I have a lot of right now, and classics bore the living shit out of me so it’s not something I can commit to so if anybody wants to take up that mantel, please feel free.

Don’t you just love that this is the first time we actually see Crowley sleeping in the show at all? There was a scene that didn’t make it to the final cut in the first season that saw him sleeping (in a bed/against a wall/on the ceiling), and one from just after he got out of bed. There is also explicit mention of his love of sleep in the book and we as a fandom have taken that cannon well and truly to heart. Yet this is the first confirmation we have in the show that he does in fact sleep. It’s a nice little touch for us to have – there really is no denying that this demon sleeps from this point on.

I made a note of Michael referring to Aziraphale as a “former angel” at the end of the first episode, and commented on how this feels like an inaccuracy. Interestingly Crowley makes an identical inaccuracy here in referring to himself as a “former demon”. To recap:

I feel the same way about Crowley and his status. I also note that Shax doesn’t correct his use of the past tense, but perhaps that’s because she’s confused at his use of sarcasm. What’s also of note is that she appears not to have any knowledge that Beelzebub and Crowley have already discussed the matter of Gabriel, likely because the former is trying to keep that under wraps. It makes me wonder if Crowley might have noticed that discrepancy had the discussion not turned to talk about the miracle that was performed in the bookshop the night before. And now we can briefly turn to the controversy that I raised from the last episode about whether Crowley actually had anything to do with said miracle:

SHAX: A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of archangels could have performed.

So from her perspective, it looks like she believes Gabriel (as Supreme Archangel) performed the miracle himself. My theory about Crowley not playing his part in it gets pretty shaky at this point, because Aziraphale supposedly wouldn’t have been able to perform a miracle of that strength on his own. There is a “but” here. Or rather, an “unless”. What if Gabriel contributed to the miracle that was performed, but unknowingly? Possibly even unwillingly? His power, either alone or being added to that of another, might explain the colouration of the plume we see originating from the bookshop on the globe at the end of the episode. Yeah, that’s right, I’m not dropping this theory yet! It’s such a shame we don’t see any other example of plumes, because that would really either lend weight to it or completely discredit it. Shax clearly doesn’t think much of Crowley’s claim to the miracle regardless – she doesn’t even respond to him when he offers the possibility that it was him that did it.

It's also notable that Crowley makes no protestations about Shax’s label of “friend” when referring to Aziraphale. Unfortunately, we don’t get to see his face when she says it, but we do see that it’s unchanged when the close up returns to him. I’m not saying this is a denial of his true feelings, merely pointing out that this would have been hotly refuted prior to the body switch incident. Whether Crowley doesn’t care that Hell knows about his “friendship” or just can’t be bothered to argue isn’t clear at this point. What is clear, is that Shax’s threats are convincing enough that the plants are frightened – you can see (and hear) them shaking in the background:

I’m sure Crowley probably starts the car in a pass-agg response to his being threatened, but there’s a big part of me that believes he really does it because Shax has had the audacity to frighten his beloved plants. I don’t have any evidence to suggest that’s the case, but I won’t be swayed on that regardless. As a final point of note: this will be the second time Crowley has been offered the “opportunity” to help Hell and refused. He clearly has no interest in helping them – his bridges are well and truly burned as far as he’s concerned.

And with that, we’ve arrived at the credits, which feels like an excellent place to wrap this part up. I don’t think this instalment has been quite as controversial as the last one but as ever: questions, comments, discussion, always welcome. See you for the next one! 😊

#good omens #episode analysis #good omens season 2 #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #head canon #good omens gabriel #good omens shax #crowley's plants

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animalsalvationassociation · 19 days ago

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A.S.A. Octonauts Headcanons:

Pt. 3 – Peso:

[ This entry is not historically accurate to the areas mentioned. This is a rewritten/vamped fan version of lower Latin America in order to fit the narrative that I have created for this world. I have however tried to keep it regionally accurate to respect Latin America itself. ]

Peso Pedro Gentoo Perez was born in Ushuaia, the capital of Tierra del Fuego in Argentina.

He is the third born, with two older siblings and one younger brother. Pogo (Older Brother) and Piñata (Older Sister, lol I'm not judging I just wanna know how we got here), with Pinto being the youngest of the siblings.

Peso doesn’t have very many memories of his father (mostly trauma related) but he does know that when he was young his father was a factory operator. His father was in charge of overseeing not only the machinery but also the factory floor. Peso isn’t quite sure what kind of factory it was but it was good money and got his family through some very tough years.

His father unfortunately passed due to an accident at the factory involving a fire and several gas leaks.

He had gotten trapped underneath a set of cross beams when the ceiling collapsed and didn’t make it out before the entire building combusted.

His father was a kind man with a strong heart, and even in the circumstances he was in he did his very best to be a good person and take care of his crew.

The memory trauma I’m referring to is called Dissociative Amnesia or Traumatic Bereavement. When a traumatic experience (however powerful it is) happens (death, grief, abuse, war, or natural disasters), in order to protect itself the brain forces itself to forget.

Piñata also experiences memory lapses too but not on the level Peso does. Pogo is the only one who seems to remember enough, but he tends to shut away mentions of his father.

His mother Pricilla also worked. She was one of many nurses who oversaw penguin laborers, and although she never got a degree or went to school she was very well versed in the ways of medicine. This is where Peso learned his love of helping people.

She became a widow months before she laid Pinto's egg. After his father died several members of their family moved in to help take care of them, and they've lived there ever since. (Auntie Papita, Cousin Petina, Great Uncle Pepe, and Grandma Perdita)

Precilla would later remarry a king and very quiet sheep dog names Eriko (Mucuchies aka Venezuelan Sheepdog, born/raised in Venezuela but later move to Chile where they met.)

Peso has a large family.

During his childhood there were several epidemics that took out a large portion of the penguin/animal populace, so he’s very happy to have been able to keep his.

His family consists of several different species of penguins as well as multiple career paths, currently he and his two older siblings are the only ones to have had the opportunity to go to school, as well as their cousin Petina.

Of course Peso has very fond memories of growing up, especially with that family, but that’s not to say it was an easy childhood.

Even when Peso was young the community he lived in struggled, not only because of the epidemics but the working environments as well. They were known to be harsh, non-accommodating to the local populations (not just penguins), and overall low paying.

But back then work was work, no matter the pay. As long as you had a job, your family survived.

In those years even in some parts now, the lower areas of South America were plagued with factories and war bound organizations including the military.

Clear skies were few and far between as the air was constantly being pumped with smog, not only from the machines that were used but from the burning of blubber that kept them fueled.

When he was little Peso would go with his mother and the other nurses (some doctors would accompany every now and then, but hospitals were usually very busy) to visit the outer colonies. Sometimes even leaving for weeks at a time depending on how far they had to travel, or how affected the area was with sickness.

This of course, as I mentioned earlier, was how Peso learned to love medicinal practices. He would often claim that he would be just like his mama when he grew up, that he would do anything to help someone in need. And really . . . all he needed was a start.

Peso was roughly thirteen when the Animal Salvation Association (The A.S.A.) began to make efforts to aid communities like his. Sending peace treaties and resolving conflicts through pacifism. Because of these efforts his community began to change and kids like him were now able to go to school and receive education.

It was only when Peso learned about the “Thermal Adaptor Armor™ or T.A. Armor™ ” that he was able to realize his dream of becoming a doctor.

T.A. Armor is a body suit (Created by Lwazii Ntuli) with the ability to regulate internal body temperatures in countered climates. With this suit, warm/cold blooded creatures will receive proper fluctuating temperatures programmed to keep their bodies at the proper condition in order for them to survive.

Peso worked hard to learn and adapt to this new style of teaching. Spending years of his young life applying himself to his studies as well as any medical knowledge he could find. At seventeen he applied for his first internship in a schooling program created by Professor Theodore A. Inkling dutifully named “The Future Ahead.”

With his hard work he graduated early, and it was only when he applied for the Harbor Grove Institute a very sought after university within the United Kingdoms that he earned the attention of Professor Inkling himself, who just so happened to be the headmaster at the time.

Peso made the bravest move to travel all the way to the UK, and with the money he was able to earn working several jobs through the A.S.A.’s new programs, he was able to afford not only the suit itself but the tuition as well.

During his second term Professor Inkling sent him a scholarship that would carry him through the next two years.

He of course took the opportunity with great excitement, and finally Peso was given the advantage and he worked hard to keep it.

Peso was just a week from graduation when Professor Inkling offered him a spot as a Medical Officer for the Octonauts, and he’s been there ever since.

It wasn’t until Peso joined the Octonauts that he was able to really use his skills. Most of his experience came from helping his mother (now retired) in the field, while school only taught him the book stuff.

Note: The first season of the show really highlights Peso’s learning process. He’s naturally caring but because of his lack in field training he’s very hesitant to do things unless it is an extreme medical situation. He holds himself back, but through the caring nature of his team you really get to see Peso shine and find confidence in himself.

Fun Facts:

Fav. Gup obviously the Gup-E it's literally an ambulance.

Fav. Fish/Ocean Creature . . . probably the Snot Sea Cucumber, I mean let’s be honest here, we see Peso’s true form whenever he makes “s-not” jokes. Although a close second would probably be the Humuhumunukunukuapwa’a.

Peso comes from a very musical inclined family, he of course plays the xylophone and maracas (although I think he would also be ✨ magical✨ at the guitar, hopefully they make guitars Peso size because otherwise I might die from laughter) while the rest of his family varies in other instruments including singing/dancing.

Peso slept with a nightlight the first year of college, after that he felt comfortable enough where he didn’t have to use it. It’s only when he joined the Octonauts that it manages to slip into his belongings. 💙😭💔

(Peso could cure cancer if he wanted to but then he’d be out of the job . . . you know it’s true)

I’ve said this before . . . so here’s an excerpt:

I would love to be at one of their family functions

Just imagine someone’s Quinceanera!

Or even dinner at Grandma’s

Yum 🤤

(Yes I realize Grandma Perdita lives with them but STILL)

Every Sunday the crew gets to make video calls to their loved ones to check in and Peso makes sure to call his family at a certain time on the dot. If he doesn’t, his mother and Auntie Papita have been known to frantically call the Octopod thinking something is wrong.

It doesn’t help when there are actual emergencies but Peso and the crew can’t help but appreciate the concern.

Peso is an advocate for good health. (duh lol)

Everyone gets a monthly check up on the octopod (some more than others *cough, cough* Kwazii).

He is constantly making sure that everyone is getting the rest they need every night as well as keeping a constant eye on the Vegimals’ meal plans.

He also cares a TON about mental health.

That was one of the major practices he looked into before joining. I feel like he’s the type to research until he’s literally run out of every book/search engine in his possession.

I think a huge part of that research would have something to do with documentaries. Not so much psychology itself but actual examples from first hand accounts.

Ex: Astronauts, Ocean Explorers/Scientists, Team Dynamics within research groups, etc., etc.

He wants his team to be healthy in all aspects, so in a way I think Peso (Dashi may fall into this category too ngl) would become the group “therapist”, aka the shoulder to lean on when things got rough.

He actually does this very well and I know that the team would benefit from someone being the listening ear. Especially Barnacles and Kwazii.

Peso would be an amazing cook, and to be completely honest with you I think the only reason the Vegimals know how to cook is because of him.

Like I’m sure the others can cook to a certain extent like Dashi, Tweak, and Professor Inkling. Although Inkling is more of a baker as well as Barnacles, but Dashi and Tweak have at least some family recipes from when they were growing up.

I don’t trust anyone else. *cough, cough* Shellington and Kwazii (aka the only ones left) . . . I mean it’s not for lack of trying *sweats in memory of a pirate related foods*

Lastly I’d like to say that I am seriously impressed with Captain Barnacles in this series. He has helped Peso so much in becoming the truest version of himself. Having him step in instead of others (like Kwazii) and allowing him the chance to make decisions without his help.

I think it also goes to show that even in those moments, Barnacles is always there. Not just because he’s protective, but because he knows Peso can do it, and he’s really only there in case Peso needs a reassuring paw even when he’s far away.

A great example is the Vampire Squid episode.

Barnacles gives Peso the opportunity to test his abilities in a dark and albeit very scary place. He and Dashi are constantly monitoring Peso’s movements to make sure he’s okay but they don’t do anything until he has the chance to reach out.

When Peso shows that he needs help the captain allows Kwazii to go first. He knows Kwazii is capable of deterring any true dangers, knowing that he’ll make sure Peso is safe and has control of the situation.

And yes I do realize that Kwazii crashed the Gup-B, but I mean it wasn’t actually his fault . . . for once. (He just gets excited when he sees his friends, so he tends to shout and scare every fish in a ten mile radius away)

Captain Barnacles only comes after Kwazii has crashed, and he wants to make sure that they’re alright. But when Peso shows that he wants to step up and go at the rest of the mission alone Barnacles lets him. Leaving him with a reassurance that if he needs anything they’ll be there waiting for him.

Just the amount of faith that he has for Peso is truly touching. He is so proud of Peso and so supportive.

(Sorry that’s the end of my rant. I just needed to add some Barnacles appreciation to this post. MEOMI and BBC really gave us the perfect trio, I’d be lost without my boys.)

The Perez Family:

Mateo (Father) / Precilla (Mother) / Eriko (Step-Father) / Pogo (Older Brother) / Piñata (Older Sister) / Peso / Pinto (Younger Brother) / Auntie Papita / Petina (Cousin, Papita’s Daughter) / Great Uncle Pepe (Perdita’s Brother) / Grandma Perdita (Precilla’s Mother) / Rocko (Cousin) / Uncle Robert (Rocko’s Father) / Auntie Rachel (Rocko’s Mother) / Ooju (Cousin) / Uncle Oscar (Ooju’s Father) / Auntie Olivia (Ooju’s Mother)

–

(Not me sleeping in till 3, forgetting to work on this because I was so preoccupied with drawing Y/N & Fae, pausing the video I was watching halfway through only to panic at the time and rush this . . . well I wouldn't say it was rushed. I started at what? 7:30?? And it literally just hit midnight?? Anyways happy sleeping, I'm gonna hate myself when I have to get up at 9 for work.

Hope ya'll enjoyed the Peso content! I've had this backstory in mind for a while and now I finally get to share it. I think Barnacles' second headcanon is going to be a half post as in, that one is going to be more about his adult life and I may end up posting two headcanons that day. We'll see.)

Kwazii / Captain Barnacles ( 1 / 2 ) / Dashi / Tweak / Shellington / Inkling

[ This is a Octonauts AU, in no way is this canon to the OG storyline. ]

#octonauts #octonauts above and beyond #octonauts the asa #octonauts story #octonauts peso #peso #peso redesign #peso penguin

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she-wolf09231982 · 10 months ago

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Chapter 5- Just You

Summary: An unexpected resistance to a German attack causes Liebgott an injury. The experience brings emotions to head between you and Liebgott.

A/N: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFem!Medic, post D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/F/N, Y/L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Confrontation, Military Terminology, 1940’s slang, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, Descriptive Wounds/Injuries, Blood/Gore, Smoking, Angst, Banter, Pining, Consensual Physical Contact/PDA, FOREVER FLUFF 💚

Chapter takes place 1x5 Crossroads

*I have loved you for several hours now, and every second more. I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then. There is no room in my body for anything but you. * -The Princess Bride, William Goldman

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

October 1944

Easy Company set up in an abandoned barn as a headquarters and aid station in Schoonderlogt, Holland. Most of Easy Company had been inside awaiting the return of the reconnaissance patrol that left at sunset to see if any Germans were near the village. Liebgott leading the mission had been gone for several hours.

Eugene insisted you get some sleep, but you only sat in the bunk, your mind too busy to even close your eyes. Talbert with his newfound companion, Trigger (a German Shepard ironically), was a nice distraction while Joe was gone. As you were petting the dog, the barn door burst open alarming everyone and bringing everyone to their feet.

“Penetration!” one of the soldiers called out carrying another soldier injured.

“It’s Alley!” Talbert yelled.

“Alley’s hurt!” Liebgott shouted.

“Boyle, get Doc.” Winters instructed then looked at Liebgott, “Where?”

“Crossroads.” Liebgott replied. You notice he took a dressing and pressed it against his neck.

“Liebgott-” you called to him, but another soldier interrupted you.

“Well, if it wasn’t for your loud mouth-” he started to accuse Joe.

You tried again but louder, “Lieb-”

“-Hey, you know what? Back off!” Liebgott shot back as Roe pushed through the gaggle.

“Get the boots off, elevate...Lieb use the sulfur...” Doc directed.

“JOE!” You barked over the commotion.

“Goddam it, WHAT?” He snarled back at you with a heavy look of annoyance.

“Get over here and let me look at your neck.” you directed sternly.

“It’s just a scratch.” He dismissed.

You huff audibly, losing your patience and giving him a side glance.

“Joe, let her take a look. We got this over here.” Doc insisted.

Liebgott sighed reluctantly rolling his eyes and made his way to you.

He stood tall in front you, refusing to look you in the eyes as you gently directed his head by the chin to his left to expose the injured site where he still held the dressing. You know he was trying to hide how bad it really was, so you decided to kill him with kindness to get him to do what you needed to do to help him.

Your voice sweet and subtle, “Joe...”

He hummed in response.

“Move your hand. Please?”

He quickly looked down at you, no smile or any real sign of emotion, just searching your eyes for something unknown to you. You feel your eyes widen as this unexpected attention from Joe unnerved you. It’s not a look that you experienced from him before. He almost looked like a ravenous animal.

You stood your ground, staring back at him expectantly waiting for him to remove his hand from his neck.

His hand slowly dropped without breaking eye contact.

You make your hands busy with the messy dressing on his neck and see an angry laceration, but not deep enough to make it life threating. You were less worried, but it still needed attention.

“You’re lucky.” You stated.

“Am I?” he replied curtly.

You ignored his cold response.

“It wasn’t deep enough to affect the artery, so you won’t bleed out, but I’m still going to dress it right so you don’t get an infection.” you explained.

“Great.” his tone unenthusiastic and sarcastic. Again, you chose to remain silent. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction by taking his bait to argue.

“Ok, Joe, you’re good.” you tell him, running your thumb affectionately along his jawline.

He felt goosebumps rise on his skin from your soft touch and shot you a look of confusion. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth slightly open, you thought he was going to say something. He thought he was going to say something too, but he stood there gaping at you, breathing heavy again searching your face for something unknown to either of you. You meet his perplexed look with one of your own and squint your eyes at him wondering what it was you did wrong to earn such a response from him.

His jaw tightened as he closed his mouth and softened his eyes. No smile, no sign of affection, he nods to you then turned on his heel to collect his gear when Winters announced they were heading to the crossroads to re-engage with the Germans there to gain control of that position.

You were utterly dumbfounded by how Joe treated you. You know he can get moody and explosive when his adrenaline races like that. He had a deep-rooted hatred for the Germans and was probably pissed he got nicked by one of them in the field, and now he was out for revenge. His anger clouded his judgement, and you suffered the blunt end of his attitude even though you had nothing to do with it.

And it had nothing to do with you. He felt terrible for not at least saying ‘thank you’ before he left. He turned his back on you after you cared for his wound so gently and attentively, and he hated himself for it after walking out of that barn. He had hurtling thoughts of doubt, regret...sentiment. He couldn’t turn back now, though. He was on his way to deal with the Krauts that had the audacity to attack him and his team that day.

~~~~~~~

Easy Company took victory at the crossroads the following morning. The Germans fled leaving dozens of their comrades killed or seriously wounded. Eleven of them are captured. The Americans on their side count one dead and 22 wounded.

Winters approaches an angry Liebgott taking potshots at the still-living Germans crawling over the bodies of their dead comrades, trying to escape the field.

“Joe?”

Liebgott continued to pick off Germans like a turkey shoot. “-Joe, knock it off!” Winters ordered

“Goddam it, what?” Liebgott barked back.

Winters noticed his neck bandages were saturated with his own blood.

“You’re bleeding.” Winters identified.

“Ah, it's nothin', Cap.” Liebgott replied bluntly.

“Take these prisoners to CP and get cleaned up.” Winters instructed.

Liebgott looked a little too eager, “Yes, sir. Come on, Kraut boys.”

Believing that a furious Liebgott can't be trusted, Winters orders him to drop all his ammo and removes all but one round from Joe's rifle telling him that killing one prisoner will prompt the others to attack and possibly kill him and escape.

“I want all prisoners alive.” Winters reminded.

Joe paused before replying, “Yes sir,” resentfully.

~~~~~~~

Liebgott burst through the barn door, obviously still fuming he had to babysit German prisoners and not get any extra hits in. It was more than they deserved even if they did surrender.

You were finishing up some wound care on another soldier when Joe had come in. Even in his intimidating state, you were exhilarated to see him alive. You rush over to him and notice his neck bandages saturated in red. Your joy quickly turned to panic as you went to touch his arm.

He turned around viscously shrugging your hand off him and met your stare with horror after he realized he had almost hurt you. His chest heaving, and eyes wild, it took him a few seconds to regain his bearings.

You were actually frightened at first but didn’t back away too much from him since he still needed medical attention.

“Joe?” you ask cautiously.

He swallowed hard then softened his stance, “I was told to get this fixed up.” He replied as he gestured to his neck.

You nod, “Ok, Lieb, over here.”

You lead him over to a more secluded space in another part of the barn that you used to triage patients. After his little ‘floor show’ you decided he needed a safe space to decompress. He slumped down on the cot in the room with a huff and stared at his boots.

You went to the shelves with the supplies you needed, grabbing clean dressings, gauze, and peroxide. You sat yourself next to Joe and prepared everything to tend to his neck. He winced when you pulled the partially blood encrusted wrapping.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. He only side eyed you as a response.

You soaked the gauze with the antiseptic, then pressed it to his wound. He hissed from the sting.

“Sorry, Joe. I have to make sure it’s clean.” you explained.

“Mmhm.” He hummed, “Just do it.” he added in a low voice.

You continued working on him quietly. The air was heavy in the room. You hoped he would open up to you. It was clear he had been bottling something up. He won’t even offer a glance to acknowledge you.

You unravel the new dressing placing the padded part to his wound, then lean in closer to loop the ends around his neck like a scarf to secure it in place. As you repeat this action, you were required to keep nearing his face with yours. Still refusing to look at you, he remained looking at his boots and you admired how long his lashes were as he looked down. You finish the wrap tucking the end in, and you couldn’t stop yourself,

“Joe, look at me.” you requested.

He sighs irritably, rolling his eyes and meets your concerned gaze.

You study his face, bringing your hand to his forehead to gently sweep away his hair. He looked you up and down skeptically, unsure what was happening. A new concoction of emotions simmered inside him when he felt your fingers combing his hair back out of his face.

Angst...elation...hunger...want...need...He had no idea what was happening with him. And it seemed to intensify while he was sitting there with you. Even in the midst of combat he doesn’t feel this level of fight or flight response. His breath hastened as his heart rate accelerated. He straightened up and faced you, bringing his hand to yours, softly grabs your wrist pulling it away from his hair not taking his eyes away from your face.

Your breath hitched in your chest as your heart pounded so hard you were sure he could hear it as well. Your eyes widened seeing his eyes dark and blown out from something deep beneath the surface unknown. The small space between you is intense and unnerving.

Joe’s POV

*“Look at her... Even after how I’ve treated her, she’s still being so good to me. I don’t deserve this...I don’t deserve her. Every time she touches me it's like electrical currents shocking my entire body. How does she do it? What I wouldn’t do for her to just grab my face and just lay one on me and never pull away. Jesus Christ get it together, Liebgott, she probably hates you now. But if I leave now, anything could happen and neither of us would know...anything. I won’t leave her until I know.”*

“Joe?” you wave your free hand he wasn’t holding in front of his face. He shook his head snapping out of his thoughts.

“You’re all cleaned up now. You can go back to the guys or take a few minutes and stay to regroup.” you suggest.

You stand to leave but Joe doesn’t release your hand. You furrow your brows confused.

“You need something else?” you ask.

Joe stood gripping your shoulders to face you square with him. His mouth curled into a slight grin. With intent behind his eyes and urgency in his touch, he finally speaks directly to you.

“Just you.” he purrs.

Your jaw slacked from shock. You look up at him through your lashes, your iris's doe-like and glistening. Words as well as breath failed to leave your mouth. You felt dizzy and faint, your entire sternum burning like you had just taken a swig of Vat 69. You feel Joe steady you as you slightly sway backward. He kneaded your arms affectionately making you a melting mess in his strong slender hands.

“-me?” you choked as you placed your hand over where your heart was ready to explode from.

He nodded deliberately and slowly, “-only you.”

Your skin and insides tingled causing you to tremble. You take a deep breath trying to regain your composure.

“Where is this coming from, Joe?” you finally ask.

He shrugged, “It’s always been there. Buried deep down and just grew bigger every day. I just can’t keep it down anymore, you know?” he explained.

You beam at him, partially lost in your own thoughts calculating the situation you found yourself in with him at that moment. You avert your eyes downward releasing a soft chuckle. You shake your head,

“Joe, I-”

“-Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same, Y/N.” he dared.

You meet his eager stare, “Of course I do, Joe,” you respond in a desperate breathy voice, “I have spent this past year worrying myself sick about you, and at first, I couldn’t figure out why! I have been fighting it every single day and I am exhausted from it. I lose sleep when you’re on patrol without me, and the few hours I can get, I have night terrors that you return to me maimed and bloody, scaring me wide awake! I swear I have more gray hair from this.”

You went off on this tangent, pacing back and forth in the small room not realizing how much you just confessed, but Joe once again remained silent just mesmerized by you absorbing every word you say.

“So, you do feel the same.” he confirmed standing taller with a gratifying smirk.

You turn to him, your eyes beginning to gloss over with tears, “Joe, *I have loved you for several hours now, and every second more. I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then. It goes on and on, Joe. There is no room in my body for anything but you. *”

Each of you standing opposite the other, you're practically panting from the overwhelming flow of emotions and lack of breath you forgot to take. You await the next venture to unfold.

Without a word, Joe swiftly closed the gap between you, and before you could even gasp, he pulled you in by the back of your head locking his lips onto yours.

~~~~~~~

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