#seventh circle

[shopwitchvamp]

Coming soon to The Fall Collection Seventh Circle Joggers by @themikeydeano

[mask131]

Dante’s Hell: Three rings to damn them all

XII) The Seventh Circle: Violence

Upon leaving the Sixth Circle, Dante and Virgil descend a landslide similar to the one caused by an earthquake or an erosion, a ruined slide that connects the Sixth and the Seventh Circle. Before, the connections between the Circle was no specified (Dante passing out in one Circle due to intense emotion and then waking up in the next, transported by Virgil), or merely described vaguely as a rocky slope like this one – but here Virgil takes his time to explain the reason why there is such a landslide between the Circles. Virgil notably says that the first time he did the full Hell travel, per the witch Erichtho’s command (I forgot to mention Erichto or Erichtho is actually a character from Lucan’s Pharsalia), the rocks between the Circles weren’t destroyed like that – in fact, this landslide was caused when Christ went into Hell and caused the great Harrowing of Hell. As Jesus took away most of the souls from the First Circle, the entirety of Hell was shaken – and in several places the rock of the “stanching abyss” that is Hell broke into pieces. This slope, as well as others connecting the Circles, were thus caused by the Harrowing.

On the slope connecting the Sixth and Seventh Circle, they are met face to face with the Minotaur from Greek mythology – here still a half-human half-bull monster, but possessed by such a rage he became literally insane, making him constantly twitch, contort and bite his own flesh in rage. Virgil briefly distracts the Minotaur’s mad anger with some references to Theseus, which sends the beast into a self-harming rage, and meanwhile Dante and Virgil run while the creature is blinded by his own anger. For you see, this circle is the Circle of Violence. Remember when I said that in Lower Hell the sins here are those of Malice? Well, there are two ways to make Malice: one is through Fraud, but since Fraud is a form of sin “exclusive to man” it is corresponding to the lower circles ; the first circle of Malice is thus for the other way of committing evil – Violence.

Now, at this point we reach such a level of complexity in human evil that the lower circles are themselves divided into sub-parts. Most notably the Seventh Circle, Violence, is divided into three Rings or Rounds, to represent the three “persons” Violence can be used against.

A) Violence Against the Neighbor

The first Ring is the one where are sent those who were violent “against their neighbor”, aka violent against other people – either violent against the other person’s very self, by wounding, harming, murdering others ; either violent against other people’s goods and belongings, through arsons, theft, devastation, plunder… In short this Ring is for all the homicides, all the pillagers, all the destroyers. Their punishment is to be plunged into a river of boiling blood (here the reinterpretation of the Greek underworld river of the Phlegethon), and guarded by centaurs (THE Centaurs of Greek mythology, as names like Chiron, Nessus and Pholus are talked about). Armed with bows, their role is to shoot down any of the damned that try to escape the river of boiling water – as well as those that try to escape their “level of guilt”. Because you see, depending on the seriousness of your sin, you are assigned a particular level in the river of boiling blood – for example the tyrants who caused massive bloodshed and pillages are plunged in the boiling blood up to their eyelids, while simple murders will rather have the blood to their chest or throat, and the lesser of the violent souls just have the blood up to their ankles (the river basically makes a full circle, with one side shallow to the point there is even a small earth bridge you can cross, and the other very deep). If a soul ever tries to get above their assigned “blood level”, the centaurs will shoot them down with arrows until they get back to their proper level (and a centaur’s arrow can actually SPLIT YOUR HEAD IN TWO, so be careful). We find again the contrapasso here – those that shed blood are now bathing/drowning in it for all of eternity.

The centaurs are actually quite nice and decent denizens of Hell, who agree to carry Dante and Virgil across their Ring to the next: the Second Ring.

B) Violence Against the Self

The Second Ring is a dense, thick, dark forest, all black, where the trees have no colors, no fruits, no leaves, just twisted and entangled branches with poisonous thorns. Dante hears the wails of the damned sinners around him, but cannot see them – Virgil tells him to break a little branch off one of the trees, and as Dante does, the broken branch starts to bleed and the tree starts speaking. As it turns out, the sinners ARE the trees. For you see, the Second Ring is the one of the Violent against the Self. Aka, those that harmed, wounded and destroyed their own body. Aka, suicide. Their punishment is to be sent into this Ring – but without one of those empty shade-humanoid body, those half-material human-imitating bodies. The souls of the suicide rather “grow” in the Second Ring as those black, twisted trees and have to wait there, unable to move or to talk – unless someone or something breaks their branches or claws at their trunk, or causes any sort of damage to them, in which case not only do they feel pain as is they had a human body, but also briefly regain the ability speak in order to cry and wail. This punishment is still part of the contrapasso principle: as the suicide rejected and destroyed their human body while on Earth, in Hell they are denied the right to have one, and are given a new, inhuman body, the one of a tree, that deprives them of all the good things a human body brings (like movement and speech), while leaving them with only the worst part of having a body (pain). The woods are notably home to a specific time of demonic creatures whose job is to inflict damage and pain on the trees: the Harpies from Greco-Roman mythology, who “nest” in the branches of the Wood of Suicides – described as creatures with wide wings, human necks and faces, clawed feet, and fat, feathered bellies.

You might notice that there is a lot of half-human half-beasts entities in this Circle: the Minotaur, the Centaurs, the Harpies… And this is done on purpose, to show how violence reduces humanity to a mere beast. We also get a quite depressing info concerning the soul of the suicides: upon Judgement Day, unlike all the others dead, the suicides will not get their human, material body back, because they rejected it definitively by killing themselves. They are cursed to stay as inhuman shades forever, even at the end of times…

Interestingly, there is a second group of souls/sinners in this Ring. The same way the Violent against the Neighbor/the Other could damage other people’s bodies or goods, here Dante makes a distinction between the self-harm and self-violence against the body (suicide) and the one against one’s belongings… This second group is a bit harder to understand: they are the Profligates. Those that wasted their wealth away in an act of material self-destruction. They can sound similar to the Prodigal of Greed, but unlike the Prodigals who squandered and wasted their money out of greed and an obsessive love for material goods, the Profligates are rather the being who dissipated their goods for the simple desire to cause wreckage and disorder, or those who squandered their belongings out of not caring or valuing their possessions as they should have (the same way the suicides disregarded their self and their bodies). It is basically an indirect form of auto-destruction, which unlike the mere “wastefulness” of the Prodigals, has a true violence to it, the idea of a rapid, intense, violent consumption of goods for the sake of losing or destroying said goods, rather than wasting and spending a lot in the hope of any material gain. To give you an idea of what these souls are, we are named two of them. One is Lano of Siena, who was known as a heavy spender, a spendthrift who lost all of his fortune to the point, to avoid the dishonor of poverty, he decided to engage himself as a soldier, in a battle that his home-city lost to a rival army and where he found his death – it is said that, as they understood that the battle was lost, most soldiers fled for their life, but not Lano who stayed and kept fighting until his death because he knew he had nothing to return to but misery, and so preferred to die on battle, even if it was for a lost cause. The other is Giacomo of Saint-Andrea, who was known for foolishly wasting his money away – one notorious anecdote about him is how he invited high-standing guests to his countryside house for an evening party, but upon realizing he didn’t had the means to host a luxurious and lavish party to honor his guest, he rather preferred to burn down his whole countryside house to avoid the shame of being a poor host.

Their punishment is different from the suicides: they rather are constantly running through the thorny woods, naked and gashed, fleeing from two ravenous black she-dogs that, if they ever catch them, rip them to pieces. [The “black bitches” or black she-dogs of the Second Circle have been interpreted in various ways: for some they embody the constant threat of debt, ruin and poverty that hunt the Prodigals ; for others they are the conscience and remorse these self-destructors try to flee from; for others yet they are just manifestation of Violence itself].*

C) Violence Against God

There are three persons against which one can use Violence, and the third one is actually a triple person. God, Nature and the Art. Get ready, we are in for philosophical talks!

The Third Ring of the Seventh Circle is a great sand waste, a desert without plants, a dry and thick sand with as its only liquid source a stream of boiling blood (flowing from the First Ring down into the lower circles). And upon this “sandland” there is what could be taken as a snowstorm… if the snowflakes were actually “fire flakes”. It is basically a slow rain of large flakes made of fire, falling flames that explode into sparks upon touching the sand and burn the flesh they fall onto. Dante and Virgil have to walk on the stone banks of the blood-stream to avoid the burning sands, as they walk by they see the sinners here are divided into three groups.

Some sinners are lying on the ground, on their back, their faces against the fire-fall: those are the Blasphemers. Others are walking, wandering, running aimlessly through the desert without ever stopping: they are the Sodomites. And some are rather crouching on the sand, huddling and weeping – they are the Usurers. Now to understand this trio of sinners, Dante gives us a philosophico-theological explanation. This Ring is about those that were violent against God – and the Blasphemers are the most direct example, being those that cursed or insulted God. But Dante recognizes two other concepts/entities that being violent against means being violent against God: Nature and Art. Nature is, well, nature, which is identified as the “child” of God, because God created the natural world as it is, according to His will and desire, and being violent against Nature is being violent against God’s very project. This is why the Sodomites are here: their sexual relationships were unnatural ones, going against the natural ways of reproducing and having sex. [As a note here, too many people think “sodomy” was an old word for homosexuality. It was not. Yes “sodomy” was the crime of the gay men in the Middle-Ages and the like… But “sodomy” could also be practiced by heterosexual couples, who were shamed and punished just as much as homosexual ones. Because the true meaning of sodomy is literally “having sex by another other means than by the so-called natural ways of sexuality and reproduction”. Aka, not having sex that is a man’s genitalia getting into a woman’s genitalia. Any other form of sexuality was considered “sodomy” and a crime going against the natural ways and God’s designs for humanity.]

As for Art, it is not just “art” as we understand it, but also crafts and techniques in general – and Dante, reusing the old Greek concept that true Art imitates Nature as best as it can, claims that Art is the last member of the “divine family”, being the “grandchild” of God and “child of Nature” – and one can be Violent Against Art. Which is the position of the Usurers here, who are extremely reviled because they are actually doubly violent, against both Art and Nature. Art and Nature were considered to be the two legitimate sources of wealth – natural resources, and human labor/work/activity. But usury, for those of you that don’t know, is basically lending money to people, but with extremely high interest rates – meaning the loan resulted always in the person receiving the money having to pay much more back than what they were given. Usury was considered a big crime in medieval and Renaissance society, as it was basically extortion and parasitism, a way to steal money from people in a semi-legal way using the loan system ; a way to get rich on the other people’s poverty, and thus is was condemned as much by the religion as by law – and Dante here condemns it as a Violence Against Nature (because it is getting money not by exploiting the natural resources, but by exploiting other people) and it is a Violence Against Art (because it is not working to get money, not producing anything to get money, but becoming rich on the work of others and multiplying money by money).  In fact, the very sand of the desert here represents the sterility of their actions in life – as the Blasphemers cursed and insulted a God who is infinitively more good, just and powerful than them ; the Sodomites used sexual acts that could not produce a natural reproduction (that was the big thing of the Christian Church, sex was only here for reproduction, not for pleasure, PLEASURE IS EVIL but babies are goods, which is why the Church was so strongly opposed to contraception for a very long time) ; and the Usurers got rich by not creating or making anything, and by basically not doing anything.

[Random trivia: the sins of sodomy and usury here are placed in parallels by Dante as both being sins associated with a city. The sin of sodomy is the “sin of Sodom”, a reference to the dual cities of Sodom and Gomorrah in the Ancient Testament, who were said to have depraved sexual practices. The very word “sodomy” comes from the legend of Sodom, destroyed by God for its malicious and vile practices, but in the Ancient Testament the sin of Sodom is not actually spelled out as homosexuality – the actual sin of Sodom is that the citizens of the city had the habit of gang-raping every newcomer to the city… As for usury, Dante calls it the “sin of Cahors”, which was a city of Southern France famous for being filled with usurers, to the point that in medieval Italy an usurer was called a “caorsino”.]

[Another note: All throughout Dante’s Inferno, there is a constant theme of the loss of identity and individuality. This shows notably here with the Usurers, who can only be recognized by the crests on the moneybags they wear around their necks, but it popped up in other passages throughout the poem – damned souls regularly being said to be unrecognizable due to the state they are in (naked, wounded, covered in mud…) or due to their intense emotions disfiguring them (pain, anger, sorrow…). For example, when Dante met Ciacco, a contemporary of his, in the Circle of the Gluttony, Dante had to ask him who he was while Ciacco recognized Dante immediately – because the pain and suffering of Ciacco had made him unrecognizable.]

Virgil explains at this point the source and origin of all the rivers of the afterlife, which are said to all come from a gigantic statue of an old man somewhere on the island of Crete. From this statue bleed different flows of liquids, that form the rivers of the afterlife: the Lethe (which is only found in Purgatory), and the three rivers of Hell (Acheron between the Vestibule and First Circle, Styx of the Fifth Circle surrounding the Walls of Dis), and Phlegethon (the blood river of the Seventh Circle). In the Lower Circles, all three rivers then fuse together into one last body of infernal water – the Cocytus Lake, at the bottom of Hell. In fact, at the end of the Seventh Circle, at the edge above the dark abyss leading to the lower Circles, our duo saws a huge, rushing waterfall, so loud they can’t even speak to each other – a waterfall falling down to the end of Hell…

XIII) Geryon

Between the Seventh and Eighth Circle, there is no actual passage by which the protagonists can go on their own. No slope, no river – just a steep abyss. They can’t just jump into the bottomless darkness of course – Virgil has to throw a rope into the shadowy void below them to warn the creature in charge of transporting them to the next Circle… Geryon.

Geryon was a giant of Greek mythology, but Dante reinvents him completely as a monster of Hell. Dante’s Geryon is a monstrous beast big enough to take the two men on his back – his  serpentine body is covered in "arabesques and curlicues" richer in color than any "Turk and Tartar fabric", and has two clawed paws “hairy up to the armpits”. His head is the one of an honest man, with an expression of kindness and benevolence on his face, but his twitching tail ends up with a venomous scorpion-stinger, for Geryon is the very embodiment of the sin punished in the next Circle: Fraud, Deceit. Climbing on the monster’s back in such a way that its tail cannot sting to death Dante (because despite obeying Virgil's orders, he is still a treacherous demon), Geryon then carries them down the abyss, “swimming” in the air, and flowing down the void like an eel in the sea, circling again and again “like a falcon in the sky” to reach the Eighth Circle.

[glenncoco4]

Kate: “Bugs…maggots…I’m officially in the seventh layer of hell.”

🤦‍♀️

[front-facing-pokemon]

[weirdlookindog]

Sanjulian (b. 1940) - The Seventh Circle of Hell

original cover art for 'Mark Hellmann Dämonenjäger' #51, 1999

[leidensygdom]

Artfight mods consider my profile picture to be the height of body horror :/ (has 7 eyes. apparently 6 is the maximum of eyes they allow. let's not talk about how the random character function is almost unusable because you will land into extreme untagged fetish characters every other roll, but hey, priorities)

[aimeelouart]

One of Shinra’s Little Generals meets the other. They should be friends.

Patricide is Harder Than It Looks is a very good fic :)

[rahuratna]

Ikemen Kaisen

Chapter 2: Come into my Parlour

Cross posted!

Summary: A cursed spirit develops a massive crush on the 7:3 sorcerer while he's on a mission. Trapping him in its unique otome game domain, the spirit soon discovers that its bitten off a lot more than it can chew with this particular jujutsu sorcerer ...

Content: Humour, fluff, crack, otome game satire, Nanami has Rizz with a capital 'R', the first year trio obtaining front row seats to this absolute shitshow.

It had been there, for just a minute. Something tangible that had fled when he was frustratingly close. Nanami blew out a small, exasperated breath and continued his steady evaluation of the crowd before heading back up to the VIP box. Maybe a bird’s eye view might reveal something telling once again. The feeling of uneasiness did not leave him, though. If anything, the sensation of wrongness, of eyes with ill intent tracing over his form, grew stronger. Nanami had not reached the status of Grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer without listening to his instincts. Ignoring that inner voice was a surefire way to get killed in this profession.

Yuuji was now seated and making a show of wiping his brow and re-hydrating. The young sorcerer-in-training had done a commendable job of keeping track of the stage. He waved to Nanami when he caught sight of him.

“Nanamin! Do you want some candy floss?”

“I’ll pass, Yuuji. But you can hand over that soda.”

Sipping from the soggy paper straw, Nanami turned to observe their surroundings as Yuuji leant toward him and spoke in quieter tones.

“It’s not Ryo-ri. I’m sure of it. I watched him like a hawk the whole time he was up there. Especially when he called that girl on stage. There was nothing weird going on at all. The cursed energy spike was someone from the audience.”

“Someone or something.” Seeing Yuuji’s concerned look, Nanami shook his head. “If it was a person, I would have found them.”

“Wait, you’re saying it’s a cursed spirit?”

“Likely. The cursed energy was very subtle, definitely sensory in nature. It didn’t seem particularly strong, but raw strength is not always an indication of how dangerous something is.”

“It’s not? That’s not what Gojo-sensei said.”

“With all due respect, Gojo-sensei is the last person you should take your assessment of caution from. The entity, whatever it was, must have picked up that I was searching for it. There’s a level of awareness at work here that should always make one careful. “

Suitably chastised, Yuuji nodded. “Okay, okay, I get it. So what do we do now?”

“There’s something else I should mention too. Since I’ve been down there … I’ve been feeling a sensation of watchfulness. Of something waiting.”

The boy’s eyes widened slightly. “Is … is it …”

“Probably. But I can’t be certain. So, what do you think we should do, Yuuji?”

The boy sat up straighter, eyes taking in the crowd that was now thinning as people made their way back out of the venue.

“I wanted to say, maybe wait for everyone to leave and then search for cursed energy traces … “

“But?”

“But if you sensed something … waiting, then the girl who went on stage is priority, right? Even if we scared off whatever was here tonight, it might be waiting for an opportunity to strike. She could still be in danger.”

Nanami felt that small twinge of pride, yet again.

“Exactly so. She’s currently backstage, meeting with Takashima as part of her supposed package. We’ll place her under surveillance and won’t let her out of our sight until we’ve established that she is at no risk of being targeted.”

“But Nanamin … “ Yuuji still looked worried. “You said that the cursed spirit may be … aware. Intelligent, like those ones we met before. Won’t it just wait until it’s sure we’ve left and then go get her?”

“That’s correct, Yuuji. Which is why our surveillance isn’t just a means to keep her safe. We’re hoping that she baits the spirit out, somehow. The emotion this cursed entity may feed off is the heavy envy that was coming from the audience. That’s probably why it was difficult for us to identify. Spirits are harder to detect when in the overwhelming presence of the very emotions that birth them. Remember that. Away from the crowd, and with a single-minded purpose, it may be much easier for us to track and isolate.”

Yuuji nodded, eyes alight with renewed determination.

“Roger that!”

Nanami and Yuuji hung around the VIP box until the young woman who had been taken backstage to meet Ryo-ri exited. If they hadn’t been paying attention, she would have flown completely under their radar. The flowing, vivid green tresses had obviously been a wig, because her natural hair was short and dark. Her clothes had also disguised her athletic build. Yuuji put her down as a professional stage performer. She had a distinctly disgruntled look on her face, certainly a far cry from the tearful ecstasy she had shown during the concert earlier. Nanami rose, nonchalantly discarding the soda can and gestured to Yuuji to follow.

She was obviously in something of a hurry, her grumpy demeanour translating to a quick, impatient stride. They followed her at a safe distance, watching as she made her way through the conference centre main exit and out into the same street they had walked along earlier. After a short distance, she pulled her phone from her bag and began to text rather aggressively, then took a sharp turn and entered a Seven-Eleven nearby. Yuuji took initiative and popped into the store behind her. As he browsed the shelves, he glanced over her shoulder and saw that she was texting someone from her agency, judging from the symbol in the profile picture. He read the messages for as long as discretion was possible before moving past.

She’s pissed off because Ryo-ri didn’t even bother to meet her after the concert. And it sounds like she’s not too happy with the agency for the arrangement either.

Choosing a random packet of crisps off the shelf, Yuuji glanced out the window to where Nanami stood on the pavement a short distance away. The sorcerer was on a call and a deep frown was marring his brow. Once Yuuji was out in the street, Nanami turned to him with a displeased expression.

“Dang, what did Gojo-sensei do now?”

“How did you – never mind,” Nanami sighed heavily. “He’s received an urgent summons from Kyoto. He was supposed to be overseeing a training exercise for Fushiguro and Kugisaki. They’ll be joining us on our mission instead.”

“Oh! I mean, the more people, the better right? They’re both strong – wait. I see what this is,” Yuuji grinned. “He’s got you for babysitting duty.”

Nanami’s eyebrow twitched.

“I’m not denying that those two are capable students. They’ll be a help, no doubt. And as much as I prefer to keep to a specific course of action, I suppose this is unavoidable. Having said that, I can’t abandon our current target.”

The young woman they were tailing had now stepped out of the store and had resumed her walk. Yuuji nodded sharply.

“Understood, Nanamin. I’ll head to the station to pick up Kugisaki and Fushiguro.”

“You remember the tracking app we installed on our phones? I’m turning mine on right now. Use it to find my location once they’re with you.”

“Right!”

Now this. This was heavenly.

Fuck Ryo-ri. A sad, little boy like that, shaking his crotch at every other bitch on stage? What could he possibly offer? No, no, no. I won’t settle for that. How could I be so … blind. This. This is what it’s all about.

Now, just look. Here, in his natural habitat, we see an absolute S-tier, top class, prime specimen of a man. Look. Just look.

From the moment he turned to face me in the crowd, I knew. It must be fate. That chiselled face, that aristocratic nose, that firm mouth and that chin. Oh, that beautiful strong chin, just waiting for a feminine finger to trace its outline. Clean-shaven, too. Just imagine what he looks like, shaving in the morning. Standing at his sink in his vest and underwear, running the blade along his throat …

Oh my. I mustn’t get too excited, oh no. Earlier, I tried to measure how broad his shoulders are and I’m sure he sensed me. Heehee. Speaking of which … sigh. When he shrugged off that coat a short while ago …  

That. Ass.

Goddamn. Praise the celestial craftsman who moulded those exquisite cheeks. Wasn’t there a poem like that? Where did I hear it before? Strange. Something about ‘did he who make the lamb make thee?’ Oh! That poem.

Well, this tiger can bite me any old time. So tall, too. And his hair … like spun gold. So perfect. Look how it moves as he walks. It’s like every time he takes a step, the cherubs of the wind are blowing each strand gently back into place. This is … a real man. His essence is all man. The way he was taking charge of that pink-haired boy and looking after him too, ohhhh. Daddy material, absolutely so.   

And his walk! Ohhhhhh. His walk! So confident. I just know he’s big down th - wait. I mustn’t let my focus slip. This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for. There’s no better opportunity than this! Now, where did I put that phone … here it is!

Oi, bitch, pick up.       

Once Yuuji had left, Nanami had resumed the surveillance on the young agency employee. She was certainly putting in the miles today and her path had taken her away from the main thoroughfares to a less populated area downtown. Here, there were no fancy coffee shops and brightly lit boutiques. Most of the stores didn’t even put out signs to advertise their wares. Many of them were situated on the bottom floor or basement level of run-down apartment blocks. Nanami noticed that the woman’s pace had slowed somewhat, and that she would sometimes check her phone before moving on.

Is she looking for directions? Where to?  

The agency she belonged to was nowhere in the vicinity and she looked like she was a little unfamiliar with this area, so she was definitely not going home.

Even though the evening was chilly, the coat Nanami wore was a little too heavy for such prolonged walking, so he shrugged it off and slung it over his arm. The moment he did, something began to feel … off. There it was again, that eerie sensation of being watched. Of alien eyes crawling over his form. Was the cursed spirit here already? That certainly hadn’t taken very long. He took a breath and relaxed his muscles, allowing his awareness to filter into his surroundings. It was something he had learned in his younger days as a sorcerer, this release of tension before expecting an attack. It helped one be more reactive to danger from any direction.

And then, the woman’s phone rang. She answered hastily, irritation colouring her tone. Nanami stepped into a narrow alleyway nearby, close enough to listen in.

“Hi, yes, it’s me. I’m … yes, I’m on my way. Excuse me, but are the directions you gave correct? It’s just, I’m somewhere downtown, and I don’t really know any reputable agencies in this area. No, no, I’m not … listen. Yes, I’m interested in the audition, but I – oh. Well, all right then, I’ll be there shortly.”

An audition? Here?

Nanami was instantly on high alert. Something was very wrong. Even if she was contacted for an audition, this area was not likely to house some kind of performance art studio. Furthermore, the disappearances of the other girls had been kept under wraps by law enforcement and their own agencies, to prevent public panic. So she wouldn’t be aware of the danger she was in.

She’s been lured here. But by whom? Is this really a cursed spirit? Is it advanced enough to put into motion a plan like this? That would make it –

Nanami had just managed to rip the blade from its holster underneath his sweater before the domain expansion engulfed him and the woman, a shockingly subtle rush of cursed energy that barely rippled the surface of reality. There was no mistaking what it was, however. If the spirit did not possess high levels of cursed energy, like he had deduced earlier, then maybe he could break through with sheer brute force. He raised his blade, energy flaring to life in powerful currents beneath his skin, bringing it down in a heavy, measured slash.

The borders of the domain rippled before annealing in softly glowing edges. Nanami dashed forward, skidding to a halt beside the unconscious form of the young performer. He took up a defensive stance, eyes narrowing as he took in their surroundings.

“Show yourself.”

The voice that answered was surprisingly young and girlish, a slight lisp accenting certain words.

“You want to see me?”

“This is your domain. You’ll have to show yourself sooner or later.”

“Welll … all right then. If you ask like that.”

A form stepped from the shadows. Shadows that had not been present a short while ago.

“Welcome. I – “

Before the spirit could finish its sentence, Nanami had swung his sword in a horizontal arc, slicing the apparition in two.

“Who do you think you’re dealing with? Show yourself. I won’t be fooled by illusions.”

There was a short period of silence. The fabricated walls of the domain around them began to shudder, changing form. Nanami frowned as he picked up the sensory feedback from all around him. As he thought, this spirit was certainly driven by strong, uncontrolled emotion. His attack had made it … happy? And why was the domain itself so resilient, considering that this spirit definitely did not have a great deal of raw cursed energy and power? Where was it drawing its strength from?

He pushed one foot out, nudging into the slumped form of the young woman lying on the ground beside him. He had to keep track of her if a fight was on the cards. Instantly, the emotions reflecting from the domain around him changed to something distinctly less … pleasant.

“What is she to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“That girl. There, on the ground. What is she to you?”

“I’m not sure I understand your question. All you need to know is that I will not let any harm come to civilians.”

“Oho. So that’s it. You are indeed an … upright man.”

Nanami had encountered a great many cursed spirits in his time, but there was something about the sibilance of those last words that made his hair stand on end. The domain was rapidly changing now, in a twisting, disconcerting manner that was dizzying to watch.

“First, let’s take things to a more … intimate setting. This place feels so exposed.”

Gritting his teeth, Nanami felt his legs root themselves to the spot, entirely not within his control. Something large and dark was rushing toward him and he leaned back, flicking his sword out in a fine, controlled line along the wall of the alleyway behind him. It was all he had time for before weightlessness took his limbs and darkness claimed his mind.

“Guess I’m stuck with you two goons. As always.”

Nobara unwrapped a chocolate bar and took a large bite. Beside her, Megumi scowled.

“I’m the one who should be saying that.”

“I said it first, buttface.”

“Your maturity never fails to amaze me.”

Yuuji looked up from his phone and offered a warm grin.  

“Let’s hurry guys. Nanamin’s signal hasn’t moved for a while now, so he must be staking out already.”

Nobara sighed.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this show on the road. But, hey! Why do you always get to go with Nanami-sensei? He’s so cool and responsible, unlike some teachers.”

They had already passed the Seven-Eleven where Nobara had purchased her chocolate for a quick snack. They were now making their way to the spot downtown where Nanami’s signal on the app blinked in stationary silence. Yuuji’s grin turned positively devilish as he turned to the brown-haired girl who strode quickly beside him.

“I mean, I didn’t choose Nanamin. Gojo-sensei assigned me to him. But yeah, going on missions with him definitely has its perks.”

He left the statement hanging, prompting Nobara to squint suspiciously at him.

“Eh? What kind of perks are we talking about?”

“You know the details of the mission right?”

Megumi frowned. “Of course we know. There’s some idol whose fans are disappearing. And the ones hired to get on stage with him are being targeted. What’s your point, Itadori?”

“Oh, just … I got to go to the concert and vibe for a bit. Nanamin got us VIP pass tickets, so we were up in the special box. And – “

“Now, just one minute,” Nobara’s expression had turned rather frightening. “You attended the actual concert?”

“Hell yeah. And I got lots of souvenirs and merch. Nanamin gave me an allowance, like always. I mean, it’s not like we were just having fun. I had to monitor Ryo-ri and talk to people. You know, network, just in case. For anything suspicious. Oh, and we went to Forty-two West – “

“The grill place?” Megumi interrupted, his own face morphing into something murderous. “The famous one that got all those five-star reviews?”

“Yeah! The same. Nanamin said we had to go because it gave us a good view of the stage set-up. But I’m not complaining. That trio of chocolate dessert was –“

Yuuji realised he had gone a step too far when his collar was roughly grabbed from both sides by his irate classmates. Nobara was fuming.

“You’re winin’ and dinin’ with Nanami-sensei while we’re trudging around the shittiest areas of Tokyo eating instant ramen that Gojo-sensei makes us buy ourselves?

“Even my shikigami get treated better.”

“Oi, oi, it’s not my fault Nanamin prefers the finer things – “

“Well then, I’m gonna put in a request for next time. I’ll make you stay with Gojo while Nanami-sensei takes me to the best nail salon and all those cute boutiques. And feeds me, too.”

“Now you’re making yourself sound like one of my shikigami.”

“Guys.”

The flat urgency in Yuuji’s tone brought them out of their small spat. They had arrived near the narrow alleyway where Nanami had encountered the cursed spirit earlier. Megumi and Nobara were instantly on alert, the traces of cursed energy subtle, but unmistakeable. And even if they hadn’t detected that, the phone with a shattered screen on the pavement was enough to give them pause. Yuuji gingerly picked it up, examining it from all angles. This definitely wasn’t Nanami’s phone. The small stickers looked familiar, though, and his eyes widened.

“This is that girl’s phone. The performer who went on stage with Ryo-ri!”

Megumi gritted his teeth. “So they were both attacked?”

“Looks like it.”

Nobara began to do a small circuit of the area, peering into the alley with close attention.

“Hey. Check this out.”

The two boys came to crouch beside her.

“What’s that?”

“This damage has traces of cursed energy, but I think it’s Nanami’s. Look at the marks here.”

Yuuji drew in a quick breath.

“The way those bottles and boxes are cut … “

“Yeah. They’re divided in a seven-three ratio. He’s letting us know he was still alive and maybe mobile when the curse took him.”

Megumi’s brow darkened.

“If this cursed spirit was powerful enough to capture Nanami, then shouldn’t we call for back-up?”

Yuuji stood abruptly.

“There’s no time. If we wait for back-up to arrive … I have no idea what could happen in the meantime. We’ve got to go in and do what we can. Isn’t that what sorcerers' have to do, even when they’re lacking in numbers and experience?”

Nobara nodded firmly. “For once, I agree with Itadori.”

Megumi sighed and straightened. “You’re right. But I think you’ve both missed something important.”

“Eh?”

“Itadori, how have you been tracking Nanami all this time?”

“What? By the app, obviously.”

“And you think a spirit or curse user, strong and smart enough to take them both, would just let you track Nanami’s phone?”

“Oh … “

Nobara hissed out a frustrated breath. “It wants to lure us in, huh?”

“If it knew Itadori was with Nanami, then that’s possible. I’m gonna send a message to Gojo just in case, and then we head in.”

This is so exciting! Now that the bitch is out of the way, I can focus on what’s important. That kid is on his way because of hot stuff’s phone tracker, but wait, wait … I didn’t expect two more to be with him. Hmmm. That’s fine. It makes no difference. Once they enter my domain, they’ll have no choice but to follow the rules. And maybe this handsome knight in shining armour will be more … receptive to my requests when they are present. Hahahahaha. How sweet it will be!

How sweet, yes, yes. Even sweeter? I get to finally see his eye colour when he wakes up! He was wearing those shades the whole time, but now … whoops! I’ve stolen them.

Hmm. Hmm. Oh, his hair! It’s so soft! I can’t … oh, this little undercut is so lovely. So cute. A jujutsu sorcerer, huh? Scarrrry. Hehe. But that wouldn’t make me change my mind at all. Oh no. It’s worth it. This power will be just what I need. He’ll be just what I need, forever and ever.

A powerful sorcerer like this … wait. Wait. Imagine what he’s built like? Oh, oh, he just gets even better. Imagine the definition he has under all that – he’s waking up! He’s opening his eyes! They’re … oh.

Oh.

Beautiful. Oh, wow. They’re upturned, just a little at the ends and, and, they’re hazel? Qwjecknblaargh …. Focus! He’s awake! I must not pass out from his magnetic stare. Breathe.

When Nanami came to, it was not in a setting he had expected. He was lying next to a lake, on a thick picnic blanket, a picturesque sunset adorning the horizon. He was instantly on high alert, reaching for his sword which, predictably, wasn’t there.

“Oh, come now. You won’t be needing that. I’m not going to harm you.”

That breathy, girlish voice sounded somewhere behind him and he spun around, bending his knees, muscles taut and ready to react. The cursed spirit had finally taken on a more tangible form. A woman’s form, quite short and delicately built, chestnut hair falling in long cascades on either side of its face. It wore a pastel pink shift dress and its feet were bare. The most telling features were the eyes. There were no eyes. Just a shadowed region, beneath straight brown bangs.

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point, huh? All right then. I want you.”

Nanami, sensing no immediate violent intent, straightened, but kept his senses alert.

“If you mean my life, please don’t assume that it’ll come easily.”

The spirit giggled.

“You’re so silly! No, no. No, no, no, no. Not at all. This is my domain, as you can see.”

“I gathered that much. Where’s the woman from earlier? What have you done with her?”

There was a distinct pout on the spirit’s face. It sighed petulantly.

“I thought you might ask that. Here.”

It waved a hand and a small window appeared in mid-air. It expanded until the ‘room’ beyond became visible. The stage performer, still unconscious, reclined in a large chair in a dingy space with dust covers over the furniture and the blinds drawn.

“Go on. If you reach through, you can touch her. That way you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

Stepping forward carefully, keeping the spirit in the periphery of his vision, Nanami placed his hand through the shimmering window. His fingers came into contact with the inert warmth of the girl’s wrist. There was a steady pulse there. He withdrew his hand and turned to the spirit.

“All right. I’ve confirmed that the civilian is safe. You can tell me right now what you plan to do.”

The spirit smiled coyly and brought something out of its ‘pocket’. It stroked a finger over the sleek, dark cover of Nanami’s phone.

“Ah, but it’s no fun if I don’t have help with my plans. So, I’ve managed to get a hold of this. Your dear little student and his friends are on their way to search for you. I’ve guided them helpfully into my domain. I think things will be more entertaining when they get here.”

Nanami gritted his teeth, but paused, choosing his words carefully. This spirit seemed to be fond of conversation. Maybe even willing to be distracted by it.

“The students have nothing to do with this. You said you wanted me. Well, here I am, and I’m certainly not going anywhere. I’m aware that domains like this one have rules. Why don’t you leave them out of it and enlighten me.”

The spirit gave another delighted laugh.

“Oh, you’re just … wonderful. As I thought. No, I won’t let them go. But I will tell you the rules. Such fun rules too! Maybe you’ll even learn to like them. I need you to play a game with me. Nothing violent, of course, or very physical. Well, maybe a little physical.” There was that spine-chilling giggle again. “Your students are even allowed to participate and help you along! Precious little helpers, just for you. The game is all about choices. I’m going to present you with scenarios, just some harmless make-belief, you understand? You have to play the role I choose for you, and then make the correct choices. Choosing options will eventually get you to the next scenario. And every correct choice gives me a massive energy boost. That is the nature of the game in my domain. But beware! Making the incorrect choices, or attempting violence against me, will alter the next scenario. If you keep making incorrect choices, you’ll end up with a bad ending. And a bad ending means …”

The spirit snapped its fingers and the window to the dark room beyond grew wider. Nanami clenched his fists. The girl from earlier was not the only occupant. At least five other dark shapes lay in various poses on the uncovered items of furniture around the room. The other abductees.

“They’re also under my control, you see. And for every bad ending you get, one of them goes poof! But don’t worry, I’m kind. I won’t harm your students in that way.”

Nanami turned slowly back to the spirit.

Kind?

As unfathomable as it sounded, there was a tone of sincerity, almost warmth, in the spirit’s voice. As if it really, really believed that killing others, but not Nanami’s students, was an act of kindness. As long as he had been in the business of exorcising spirits, Nanami had developed a certain instinct about how to deal with specific types of curses. A sort of unerring sixth sense about how to deal maximum damage when handling them; getting to the heart of their true nature through their weaknesses. Something, perhaps his own innate technique, was telling him that there was an exploitable crack in the armour here.

“I see. That is kind of you.”

The spirit immediately beamed, for all it didn’t have eyes to express emotion with. The dark window disappeared, and the sunset took on an even rosier hue.

“I knew you’d see things clearly!”

“Tell me more about this game. Most importantly, what happens when the game ends?”

“Don’t worry about the students. They’ll be safe and wake up somewhere. If you don’t get any bad endings, all the civilians will be returned safely too. But they won’t remember anything that happened to them.”

“And me?”

“I can’t tell you that yet. Will that be a problem?”

Nanami considered for a moment before shaking his head firmly.

“No. I don’t care much what happens to me. As long as you give me a binding vow, as we sorcerer’s call it, that you’ll let them go when the time comes.”

The spirit’s smile grew impossibly broad, and it let out a small, dreamy sigh.

“You’re … really something, Mister Sorcerer. Or should I say, Nanamin. I checked your student’s chat with you and that’s such a cute nickname!”

Nanami twitched slightly at the moniker, but did not react otherwise.

“Call me whatever you want. But please make that vow.”

“Of course! Anything for you.”

Stretching one hand out, the spirit waggled its fingers. Cautiously, Nanami held out his hand and they grasped each other by the wrist. The spirit was fully corporeal, at least in its domain, the flesh beneath his fingers firm and human-like. A shudder seemed to pass through the spirit as he made contact. They spoke the words of their contract and, within the confines of this domain, those terms were made binding. Nanami let go and stepped back.

“All right. Now will you give me some information as to the nature of these game scenarios?”  

“You mean you haven’t guessed already?”

“No, I’m quite at a loss as to what they could be.”

The spirit clapped its hands and laughed.

“Why, they’ll be romantic, of course!”

“… Romantic?”

“Yes! A truly tingling tale of true love and fated lovers. The universe may conspire mischievously to keep them apart, but their honest, raw emotions will prevail over all! At least, as long as you get the good ending.”

Nanami was silent for a bit. He seemed to be thinking deeply, but in reality, this information had completely thrown him. If he understood correctly, this spirit wanted him to perform some kind of … romantic roleplay with it? Had he been mistaken? He had been operating under the assumption that this spirit had be born of the envy and resentment felt by the idol’s audience, but what was this all about then? It couldn’t be. But then again, even the most experienced sorcerers had come up, eventually, against spirits that defied their existing knowledge and instincts. Taking a breath, Nanami looked up.

“Romantic scenarios. Understood. I’ll play my part accordingly.”

“Eh?” It was the spirit’s turn to be caught off guard. “You agree just like that? I thought you’d at least resist the idea.”

“I have no reason to. If the lives of civilians are at stake, then I, and my students, will perform whatever role you assign to us to the best of our ability.”

Nanami reached up and, in a controlled motion, smoothed back his hair. He lifted his sweater slightly and tugged on the empty harness for his blade, snapping it back into place before neatly rolling up his sleeves. He faced the spirit and folded his arms.

“I am ready for you.”

Something crimson and wet dripped from the spirit’s nose. It hurriedly mopped it up with the back of its wrist.

“Ah, er, well. Let me prepare a few things and I will … be back soon.”

The window behind it opened and it scurried through. Nanami raised an eyebrow.

Was that blush part of the act?

[oscarisaacasimov]

Hozier sings in English, lucky for me to understand him, lucky for him to make good money, but remember the violence that made our world Anglophone, the Gaelige of his homeland will always sound foreign, a poet cut off from his mother tongue.

A butchered tongue is a tragedy, more poignant when the message comes from such a blessed tongue, a talented singer and lyricist.

What other voices have been lost.

[cl0udkiszzzz]

i want someone to love me like drain covers love the ferrari floor.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

The kinda of thing I research for fic writing… truly telling

[compacflt]

I just wanted to say as someone who has stumbled across your blog and has read your Wednesday wips and posts about anything topgun related that your thought process and consideration of mav and ice, specifically their political beliefs and relationships with their own identities, is honestly so impressive and cool. You have brought such realism and life to these characters which is just so refreshing to see. idk i just wanted to express how cool and awesome i think that is

Because of the thought into these characters does it make it difficult to like them or understand them if you have differing opinions from them? for me personally i feel like if i were to ever actually have a convo with ice or mav regarding identity politics i would actually start to lose my mind (like how one feels when your dad or fun uncle talks for too long at thanksgiving dinner). If it does make them difficult to like, does that make it difficult for you to write them sometimes?

oh yeah! i think, my ice i really empathize with & really love & really could get along with, once he grows out of the sexism of his teens & twenties, but my maverick drives me crazy. someone sent in an ask a while ago that was like “WHY is cyclone simpson your one true love??” And it’s because i too would absolutely hate maverick & hate working with him lol. people who are overly cocky & un-self-aware & a bit self-centered make me CRAZY. (narrator voice: compacflt is a hypocrite as all these things also apply to compacflt.)

Politically… It’s difficult to say. no one really wants to hear the intricacies of one person’s political journey, which is why i won’t give you mine, but suffice to say—since the start of the russian invasion of Ukraine, and my semi-concerted effort to learn more about the political landscape of modern warfare, my own personal beliefs have shifted a whole bunch. definitely aided in that shift by my top gun fic project that specifically aims to understand the conservative straight-passing male mindset as it relates to military matters… there are many end goals to a project like mine, but one end product is a filter you can take away and hold up in front of your eyes and see the world through it. When writing from the eyes of a conservative straight (passing) white man, your priorities totally shift. I had to write from the perspective of someone who doesn’t care about identity politics. Because they don’t! A core tenet of conservatism is very proudly not caring about that stuff, and being very annoyed when people (usually left-of-centers) make that stuff very visible and want you to care about it! “Don’t shove it in my face,” etc., etc. Don’t force me to care about this taboo, private thing I really don’t care about. It violates my freedoms, or whatever, to be forced to care—or even bear witness to—stuff that i don’t care about. Etc. And then, to be nominally a part of that community that you really, really don’t care about, and then to be told that you have to care about it because of your publicity… people asking you to be proud of something that has had a negative connotation for much of your entire life… that’s not a transformation that happens easily.

Jesus, I could write an essay about this. I have, several times by now in responses to asks over my blog. But there is so much that I could talk about. I think… I really worry that some of my writing falls into the first of the below categories:

I really try not to romanticize conservatism in my writing—I tried to show that ice and mav’s happiness is the price they pay for their conservatism. They’re actively choosing to be unhappy—but because they prioritize their honor over everything, due to EXTERNAL PRESSURES they cannot control, and which I think are often ignored in the fandom space for one reason or another. The fact of the matter is, in 99% of IPs, characters prioritize something other than their sexualities. It’s never Maverick’s personal identity that is at stake in either Top Gun or Top Gun: Maverick, because he has built himself so impermeably masculine that there are no grounds upon which to question his personal identity. He just isn’t thinking about it. He’s thinking about how to get into Charlie’s pants, how to win the Top Gun trophy, how to uphold his promise to Goose, et cetera. If he’s fucking guys on the side, it’s because he wants to and because hes maverick and he does what he wants without thinking about it—that’s the whole point of his character, from a story-construction standpoint. That’s his archetype. He’s a renegade maverick superstar who is both thoughtlessly brilliant and thoughtlessly dangerous. He’s thoughtless. His priorities are to survive and to look cool doing it, and that’s it. He is a savant in the Naval Air Force, where honor is your lifeblood, who feels he has been dishonored by his own family name, and who willingly joined the conservative post-Vietnam Navy right when/after Ronald Reagan was elected President, and who wears cowboy boots and who disrespects women to their faces, and who is eager to get into altercations with Soviet-Chinese-DPRK-X-second-world-country-coded-but-EXPLICITLY-Soviet-manufactured-Mikoyan-Gurevich-MiG-28s(-F-5s-painted-black)… I’m sorry. In my opinion, the conservatism is baked into him as a character. I find it extremely difficult to separate him from his conservatism, because in some ways his patriotic conservatism is his raison d’etre. IMO if you take that away from him, he ceases to exist.

Same thing with Ice and his unwillingness to openly rebel or go against the grain. That is his whole reason to exist in the story at all. I know that I’m saying this in a fandom space where the whole point is to change characters & put them in different situations (fanfic) but… in kind of a perverse self aware way, as in I know I sound ridiculous and pretentious, i guess i don’t really understand an impulse to change the core tenets of a character irreparably in fanworks. We are shown that ice always goes by the books in TG. Then we are shown that he achieves the fruits of that labor (four stars) in TGM. So he is rewarded for never rebelling, whereas Maverick, who always rebels (but NEVER in a way that challenges his personal identity), has stagnated in the ranks at full-bird O-6. And that’s Ice’s character. That’s what he’s there for in the story—he’s a tool to show us the value system of rank and prestige you earn by following the rules of the Navy. Why take that away from him? That’s his priority! Canonically, that’s his priority and reason for existence! And historically the way to achieve that priority is through conservatism.

And you ask me if it’s hard to like my ice and mav. Yes, but that’s not my choice. The movie already did that for me. They are not, I’m sorry, likable people. I am not a straight white conservative male writing about straight white conservative men to validate my own beliefs—I’m a queer AFAB person of color writing about straight white conservative men because I want to understand the limits of their conservatism. What they do and do not care about, and what it takes to make them care. And from what we are shown in TG… ice and mav would not care about ME. At all. And they would not want to be forced to care about me. Ice’s casual careless dismissiveness… “the plaque for the alternates is down in the ladies’ room…” mav following Charlie into the bathroom… turning the key in the ignition and driving away while pretending not to hear her… “what?? i can’t hear you! 🙉” … they do not care. They have no desire to care.

Again. Maybe I subscribe to a very very old-school and labored and pretentious ideology when it comes to writing… I know a lot of people write just to have fun. I do not. I wish i could, but I don’t. And when you’re not writing to have fun, you don’t have to like the characters you’re writing about. They’re nothing more than tools at your disposal to get your point across more effectively. No, I don’t like them! Of course not! My ice is cruel and cowardly and careless and hypocritical and subservient and weak, and my mav is demanding and dangerous and dismissive and oblivious and so, so, so unbelievably bitter.

And that’s what my story needed, to get my point across. So, shrug. My point was my priority. I don’t care too much about the characters themselves.

Re: icemav & identity politics. Part of hopefully selling this story is the attempt at empathy for the conservative male, to bring this discussion back to the top. Why write fiction at all if you’re not going to write about people different from you, and why write about people different from you if you don’t want to understand them? So… part of trying to understand them was to understand and have empathy for this shift in priorities. Conservative guys do not want to care about labels, or sexual orientations, or, God forbid, discussion of their gender identities. I can kind of see Ice tolerating it by the end… but, there are limits. Again, it’s supposed to be private. I think he’d chafe against getting labeled gay—he wouldn’t want to be called the first gay compacflt, or SECNAV, etc. He can’t say, “i slept with like a hundred fifty women before I even MET the ONLY man ive ever slept with,” because that’s like intensely private personal information!! No one deserves that information, but people still want to call him gay, even though in his head he really is not!!!! Again—from the conservative perspective, it’s a public imposition of left-wing, overly sexualized, too-neat labels and politics onto an area of life that has typically been kept private and respectable—I don’t agree with the conservatism, but I can at least empathize with it. Pre-Maverick’s death (pre-coming to terms with it), it would’ve been shameful & embarrassing to him; but even after coming to terms with it, it’s still not something he “takes pride” in. I think he thinks of it like this—most people aren’t proud of being straight. Like, it’s weird if you are. Same thing with being proud of being white, etc. Why be excessively proud of things you have no control over? Why not take pride in your ACTIONS—for instance, his career that he has actively sacrificed so much of his pride for? I can really empathize with that thought. I don’t necessarily agree, but I get it, especially in his professional circumstances, where he has so much to be professionally proud of, and yet people keep wanting him to publicly care about this private part of him he has no control over and can’t change.

Maverick though. I think he’d be actively hostile about talking about it in public. He Does Not Care. he does not want to care. It’s all an insult. They call him the first openly gay Ace cause he’s married to another man— “okay, but, like, I’m not. Stop calling me that. Neither of us are. Oh my god we have slept with so many women. Stop calling us that.” Ok then what do you want us, the press corps, to call you? First openly bisexual Ace? “No that’s worse!! That’s a word some teenager made up and doesn’t mean anything!! I’m sixty years old stop asking me to talk about this stuff im too old.” What do you have to say to LGBT kids who want to go into the navy? “😎👍 there’s a place for you etc etc. Let’s go back to talking about all the planes I shot down.” Maverick does what he wants without thinking about it. That’s the core tenet of his character. Very conservative. Don’t ask him to care too much.

Idk. No I don’t like them. But I understand them, if that makes sense. Like their conservative anti-label logic does make emotional sense to me. So that’s part of what I took away from this project, for better or worse… probably worse: I understand why conservatives don’t like the modern over-publicity of sexuality. They don’t care and they don’t want to care. And because they are small-C conservative, my ice and mav still don’t care lol. So, yeah. It doesn’t make them hard to write, because thats why I wanted to write them in the first place.

[justalittlebluetiefling]

Not Ashly being just as surprised as me that this is the SEVENTH time?!

[setaflow]

Schrödinger's Catholic: not a practicing member of my faith except in moments where I strike Faustian bargains I won't uphold with God so he can help my sports team win a game.

[ace-is-undead]

That statement in the last episode got me swearing in the library. The fUCK?!