#time for some queer defiance

[hecticelectron]

The Kickstarter has just launched! You can back it here!

Let's make some queer sword & sorcery happen in Pride month. 🏳️‍🌈😤

Hi, this is a big post about my new TTRPG, Defy the Gods, which I’m Kickstarting soon. It’s a queer sword & sorcery adventure-romance set in fantasy ancient Mesopotamia. I was inspired by Conan, Clash of the Titans (1981!) and Princess Mononoke. (I've also got a BlueSky megathread going about it.)

Sign up for the Kickstarter here!

Art by Thalie Shelen! @thalieshelen

(Btw hi I'm Chrys, a queer, trans game designer in Columbus, Ohio. This will be my second published game. The first was a furry pack of nonsense called Raccoon Sky Pirates.)

Defy the Gods is sword & sorcery as a story game. My favorite PbtA games emulate specific stories and lead you to resonant emotional moments like you find in those stories. Here, I used PbtA to emulate sword & sorcery, with an emphasis on the romantic moments—but also plenty of metal 🤘. You use the flirtation mechanics (taken from Thirsty Sword Lesbians) to tempt, support, or thwart others. But then, you can roll too high (taken from Apocalypse Keys), where you get more than you bargained for. Like Conan running out of the Tower of the Elephant while it crumbles around him.

Also like Conan, you have a glorious destiny, but in this case it ain’t good. Rising to your most powerful self makes you monstrous, heralding your character’s end as a hero and their beginning as an NPC antagonist.

It’s a queer game. You can fall in love with anyone, or make them fall in love with you. But because the game is also about power, the gods and tyrants wait to stomp on you if your enticement falls flat. Like if you flirt with someone in the wrong neighborhood. Every character has their own arc, and one of the things I had the most fun with was making those feel like queer problems as well as ancient-world sword & sorcery problems.

Play a fierce Sword, chaos-loving Sorcerer, fugitive Revenant, mischievous Sailor, immortal-sworn Vessel, or wild-raised Wolfling. (All character portraits by Thalie Shelen @thalieshelen)

The Sword is big-hearted and violent. You have a move that lets you kill any human-sized mortal NPC within arm’s reach, without rolling, if you’re not already in combat. This always causes more problems than it solves.

While most players roll just 2d6 & add their stat, the Sorcerer casts spells by rolling a lot of dice & looking for patterns in them. If you can’t find any patterns, your sorcery runs amok. This chaos is kind of lovely. For instance, you're always changing your body—sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. But always gorgeous.

The Revenant is like Inanna, or if Eurydice made it out. They escaped the land of the dead. They aren’t who they were in their past life, nor who they were as a shade. They're still figuring out who they are now. Demons pursue them to claw them back to the Underworld.

The Sailor can call on a cast of past friends and lovers for help. They always have a plan, and an eye for the exit. One of their moves lets you fill in the map of the otherwise unknown world.

The Vessel is in love with a minor god. They channel their patron’s power by wounding themself, but their patron can also soothe their pain.

The Wolfling was raised by animals in the Wilds and is curious about the humans, but they belong in neither world. They're definitely the part most directly inspired by Princess Mononoke.

The World Forces are the antagonist. You build them at the table, in quick rounds of pick lists. They are:

The Pantheon: gods, goddesses, and demons. They make the rules, but maybe you can break them.

The City: tyrants, the wealthy, and others with the gods' blessing. They push you to the margins, but you can fight to be seen.

The Wilds: gigantic creatures and their trackless wilderness home. It's place of danger and new rules, but you'll probably break them.

The Shadow of Atlantis: long-gone elders. They dared to scorn the gods, and the Pantheon destroyed them for it, but through you they may live again.

Death: a hungry, totalitarian force. Its underground domain is the end for all mortals and the mockery of hope. But maybe you can return.

Art by Shan Bennion! @anonbeadraws

This was an intensely personal project, but it was too big for me to do by myself. Here are all the people who helped make it a reality:

Avery Alder: Design advisor

Basheer Ghouse: @basheerghouse Cultural consultant

Cat Tobin: Horizons Mentor https://www.pelgranepress.com

Cris Viana: Graphic designer & layout artist

Ezra Rose: Interior art

Kanesha Bryant: Interior art

Katrin Dirim: Interior art

Jaqueline Florencio: Cover art

Lyla Fujiwara: Developmental editor https://www.jarofeyes.com

Mary Verhoeven: Interior art

Omar Ramadan-Santiago: Cultural consultant

Rae Nedjadi: Developmental editor https://temporalhiccup.itch.io

Rue Dickey: @ilananight Copy editor

Sean D’souza: World-builder & writer https://linktr.ee/seandsouzax

Shan Bennion: Interior art

Thalie Shelen: Interior art

(art by Shan again! @anonbeadraws)

Thanks for reading! See the Kickstarter here!

[ihhfhonao3]

I know how to make a Molotov. Do you?

[coriphallus]

DA: The Veilguard Spoiler review pt2 - The Grime

this is a hard one to tackle without strawmaning anyone because itll be a direct response to alot of defense ive seen for the games morality system so ill just start by saying, iykyk

never a genre has been better equipped to discuss ethics than the interactive medium of games and yes, bioware games have been doing it since baldurs gate and no, theyve not always been 'centrist' and 'conservative'. im not even gonna entertain that idea. do you remember the cultural landscape DA:O released to? the landscape it was developed in? dont give me that just because zevran doesnt write in his little notes -that you can conveniently read- 'gay good. not me but me bisexual'

Thedas is a flawed world and its a world thats just as desperate to hang on to its status quo as our own. every time you play an elf thats thriving, or a human thats queer, or a mage thats not institutionalised you exist in a world that doesnt want you, it is an act of defiance that you do.

im sure we can all see why these games were so popular with the audience they can only weakly try to pander to today.

derailing time again; so one of my favourite paintings of all time is saturn devouring his son. it makes me feel so uncomfortable that it gave me nightmares as a child, and i still cant look at it without feeling this knot in my throat. i hate it. i hate how it makes me feel, how that man looks at me in terror like its begging me for help while cannibalising another. weird story but i was bewitched by that painting as a little kid.

it is not a well drawn painting, the proportions are all over the place, brush strokes crude and inelegant. it doesnt even have a deeper story nor was it intended for an audience. i will never know what goya thought of when drawing it.

i thought alot about that painting later in my life when i was struggling with mental health problems, i thought about goya alot too as an adult and after learning about his life. i stared at his paintings and remembered when i told my dad that i hated [saturns] big eyes and hed jokingly said "it would be scarier if he didnt have eyes"

i know what the drawing looks like now, nearly everyone with a little access to the internet does. if somebody removed saturn from it, we'd still be left with a brutalised headless carcass of a man in a canvas too big for itself. if we removed that too all we'd be left with would be void.

i dont want to live in a world where all i know of goya is his rococo work, i dont want to stare at the painting of a void knowing what filled it before. i hated every second of germinale but i never wanted it to be anything other than itself, the story it tells could never hold credence otherwise.

DAV has done its best to paint over it, but its still on the old canvas and i cant look away from the negative space its left, i know whats under it and it unsettles me, infuriates me. it hands me a palette with baby blues and pinks and tells me to paint over it to make a prettier painting. didnt i hate the eyes? wasnt it gross before?

i am not going to write why we need some grime in art, but its absence is disheartening. and to those who say hanged people in the streets or blighted villagers is dark and mature ill say no. its a kids idea of maturity, its the aesthetic of it with no substance. it means nothing to me if rook can just drench themselves in gallons of blight as they crawl through it. the horror of blight has never been the black goo and slimy tentacles, or the monster woman with way too many tits. it is watching people you love slowly fade away, it is a woman who was forced to cannibalise the contaminated flesh of her friends because the woman she loved betrayed her, it was the sheer scale and inevitability of it.

one area we go to is overrun by it and the game begs me to feel hopeful that flowers are growing again when it never let me lose hope. people have already prevailed, they have roofs over their heads and a steady supply of food on their tables. their spirit is unwavering.

its bad, everybody says. the sky is grey and soil is blackened, as my rook turns some statues to access a haunted house whos inhabitants are long gone and the only story they could ever tell is gone with them.

if the question is do i want to see famine? plague? misery? abuse? assault? the answer is yes. yes. i want to see it all of the filth. i rather face the fucking monster head on with its big bulging eyes and misshapen limbs than stare at the abyss its absence leaves on the canvas.

and if nothing else, this bastardization is disrespectful to the people who gave the IP its fame.

Why choose to be good?

back in the bsn days ive wondered why, even in a fictional universe where your choices have no real-life repercussions what-so-ever, players had more 'good' playthroughts than 'bad'?

what happens when you start killing NPCs, when youre needlessly mean to them? the game actively closes off its own content. you get less out of the game. just as, completely incidentally, you'd get less out of your life if you just started killing everyone around you. The world would be emptier, youd be alone.

in that quote i stole from good place chidi doesnt ask "why be good?" the wording is painfully deliberate. doing good is always a choice, and often not the easy one. what makes the act matter is that you chose to do it, even when given 6 other options not to. did i stop in the middle of an important quest to help a man retrieve an heirloom from a darkspawn infested hut? did i hear what that heirloom meant to him?

i cant stop thinking about that speech ever since playing this game after knowing its predecessors.

So, why do it then? Why choose to be good, every day, if there is no guaranteed reward we can count on, now or in the afterlife? I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity. Simply put, we are not in this alone.

i cant stop looking at this game that spits on its own legacy and think how could they have missed what fundamentally makes us human so bad, what makes us relate and empathise with eachother. what makes us pick the option to interact with an npc who openly hates what hawke is, and allow us to see the traumatised man underneath.

these characters of fiction are written by real people. i have absolutely nothing in common with a guy from canada yet for a brief moment in time i feel a sense of camaraderie as ive felt with goya that i couldnt articulate as a kid.

Nothing too terrible

DAV says it over and over again -as its wont to do with every piece of its flimsy morality- that people can change, people can be redeemed yet it shines as the game with most static characters in its franchise. it simply says things, and since it has nothing to show for it it makes sure to say it repeatedly, in case you missed it.

so when i first played DAO i was in high school, i started with a human noble because fresh out of dark side edgy kotor fame i wanted to be a posh brat. also because, ya kno, we were poor my entire life up until that point and i wanted to have power.

i committed to it, even as the game stripped cousland of everything he had, because i thought a man like him would. i picked the racist options, the sexist options, the options a man in couslands place would. halfway point of the game as i exhausted the initial dialogues something happened; this man who got paid to kill people, who showed no remorse nor care for his victims, begged my cousland to stil his blade.

and i did. i thought maybe he would be as confused as i was, maybe he had a moment of clarity but from thereon bit by bit he was less of an asshole. the characters grew around me, and my character grew around them. i chose to be good because -textually- we were in this together, at the end of all things.

rook is not a character, theyre a mascot. and quite frankly i think they may be a very evangelical mascot because they remind me of evangelical preachings of jesus more than the man from the bible (and i say this as someone whos only exposure to christianity has been through foreign media and the bible ive read that one time). they are the epitome of do no evil and their existence hinges on the frail concept of moral purity. theyre not a person trying to do good, who wants to be good, they are 'good'

-and lemme tell you its a wild choice to have someone like that locked in a prison of 'regret'-

rook can be mean to only one person in the game, and thats someone they dont even have a personal beef with for the most part. but even then they would be shouting at a wall because the game doesnt only undermine them with its narrative, but also every npc in the game suddenly gets possessed by the ghost of wattpad rejects past for a moment to tell them everyone can be redeemed. and i believe it because i played the other games, i believe it because i know zevran and sten and morrigan, isabela and thom and iron bull and dorian. i know it because i can see the vague shapes behind the new coat of paint but i am not rook.

so no, the game fails to get people-can-change points by its own merit, and it cannot gain points from its prequels because it destroyed them. none of those characters i watched grow exist in this universe. zevran cant exist with DAV crows, fenris` story cant exist in an imperium with invisible slaves only glimpsed through empty cages and broken chains left scattered on the ground. i dont know which morrigan this NPC is, is it the woman who grew to learn kindness, who begged to sleep with her friend just to save them despite knowing it would play into the plans of a destiny she so desperately tried to break free from? or is she the clever puppet her mother groomed her to be who wanted to harness the power of a god? i dont know her, i dont know this dorian or this isabela beyond their names ipso facto this is not a sequel.

bellara asks an assassin why he is trying to save the world and his answer is "ive done some things in the past im not too proud of. nothing too terrible, but some of it was bad." and i can hear the games desperation for me to not engage with its material in that 'nothing too terrible'

lucanis never killed anyone innocent, taash never harmed an animal they could shoo of or reason with, emmrich venerates the dead and is friends with every wisp he pulls to use in menial labour, davrin joined the wardens willingly because he wanted to do good...

rook tells harding that her anger is justified when shes not even allowed anger of her own.

nothing too terrible.

aside from creating boring and nonsensical and static characters it creates a dreadful echochamber that we're forced to sustain. No taash is not valid, their gender is but their behaviour is not and for the character to grow and mature it needs to be addressed. lucanis doesnt need to be pampered in shock blankets he needs to see how repressing his problems and jeopardising his health puts people around him in danger etc etc. they are adults and they need to learn more complex ways of healing. and if rooks flaw is that theyre an enabler, then that needs to be acknowledged by the narrative in some way too, and not mindlessly endorsed because they say some buzzwords.

none of these interpersonal relationships feels real because none of these people feel real beyond some draft of themes and tropes. some interactions literally remind me of two bots in facebook comments

i look at this dialogue wheel with familiar symbols and all im reminded of is hawke telling carver he carries every death with him, of him telling his uncle that he wasnt fast enough, of him begging the person he loves to tell him that his mothers death wasnt his fault.

and they dont. they just sit there with him.

[travelingthief]

Apollo as a Queer Deity

The Death of Hyacinthos (1801) by Jean Broc

Apollo has had many male lovers in Greek mythology. Most famously, he loved the young mortal Hyacinthus, the namesake for the hyacinth. But the list doesn’t stop there.

Admentus

 Admentus of Pherae was the mortal king Lord Apollo was sentenced to serve for a year as punishment for slaying the Python at Delphi. Writers such as Plutarch, Callimachus, Tibullus, and Ovid described Apollo’s affection for Adementus with homoerotic overtones. Callimachus wrote that Apollo was “fired with love” for Admentus. In addition to his servitude, Apollo helped Admentus prolong his life by getting the Fates drunk and persuading them to let Admentus live, so long as he could find someone else to die in his place. When his parents would not die for him, Alecstis, Admentus’s wife, died for him instead. After realizing he didn’t want to live without his wife, Heracles - who was impressed with Admentus’s kind treatment of guests - descended into the Underworld and fought Thanatos, ultimately winning and returning Alecstis to the Land of the Living. 

Adonis

Adonis was loved by many deities, Apollo included. Adonis was said to “act as a man with Aphrodite and act as a woman with Apollo.”

Branchus

Branchus was a seer of Apollo and in some traditions, is his lover. Sometimes Branchus was born with his seer abilities and other times his abilities are a gift from the god he received later in life. In his adulthood, Branchus worked in animal husbandry. Apollo, enamored with Branchus’s beauty, disguised himself as a goatherd. Apollo revealed his divinity by milking a male goat. After revealing his divinity, Branchus and Apollo became lovers and Branchus established a temple for Apollo at Didyma. 

Cyparissus

Cyparissus was a boy whom Apollo loved. He gifted the boy a stag, but Cyparissus accidentally killed his beloved stag in a hunting accident. He prayed to Apollo for his grief to be immortalized, so Apollo changed him into a Cypress tree, which became sacred to Apollo.

Hyacinthus

Hyacinthus was a mortal youth whom both Apollo and Zephyrus loved. One day, while Apollo and Hyacinthus played discus a jealous Zephyrus looked on. Zephyrus, god of the west wind, decided to punish the couple by manipulating the winds, causing the discus to strike Hyacinthus in the head and killing him. Apollo, overcome with grief, immortalized his beloved by turning him into a hyacinth. 

Some scholars interpret this myth as the hot sun killing crops in the summertime, as Hyacinthus was a minor Cthonic vegetation deity. 

Iapyx

Iapyx was a favorite of Apollo and they were potentially lovers. Apollo wanted to bestow a gift on Iapyx. Iapyx elected to receive a longer life and skilled healing abilities. 

My Personal Experience:

When I was 14, I cut all of my long, dark hair off which marked the beginning of my physical transition. I spent my teen years exploring my identity and coming into myself. The same time I overcame some prominent internalized transphobia was around the time I became a Hellenic polytheist. In an act of societal defiance, I decided to grow my hair back out.

I was 19 and completely on my own for the first time, and that year was one of the most transformational years of my life (so far). I learned about manhood, adulthood, and what masculinity means to me. Eventually though, it was time for me to cut all of my hair off. I had learned a lot about myself, one of them being I hate having long hair.

So again, I cut off my long, dark hair, this time with a better understanding of who I was and where I was going. In ancient times, boys would cut off their hair in the name of Apollo to signify their transition to manhood, and that is exactly what I did. Now, my last lock of long hair sits in an envelope, next to another labeled "First haircut, 2004" on my Apollo altar.

I don't know if many people turn to Apollo as a queer god, especially for transness. But with the journey I've been on, it only felt right.

Sources:

Homoerotic themes in Greek and Roman mythology - Wikipedia

Hyacinth (mythology) - Wikipedia

CYPARISSUS (Kyparissos) - Cean Prince of Greek Mythology

Branchus in Greek Mythology - Greek Legends and Myths

Admetus of Pherae - Wikipedia

Alcestis - Wikipedia

Iapyx - Wikipedia

Adonis - Wikipedia

Divider: @cafekitsune

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌙 Eid Mubarak! 36 Queer Muslim Books for Your TBR

✨ Eid Mubarak, my loves! Eid isn't just a celebration for the end of Ramadan; it's a time to connect with friends and family, to share stories, and for some, to have a few sweet treats (we always deserve a little treat). To extend that celebration, here are 36 books by or about queer Muslims.

❓Which of these is catching your eye?

🌙 We Have Always Been Here - Samra Habib 🌙 The Henna Wars - Adiba Jaigirdar 🌙 Queer Jihad: LGBT Muslims on Coming Out, Activism, and the Faith - Afdhere Jama 🌙 Tell Me How It Really Feels - Aminah Mae Safi 🌙 Darius the Great Is Not Okay - Adib Khorram 🌙 Zara Hossain was Here - Sabina Khan 🌙 God in Pink - Hasan Namir 🌙 Hani & Ishu's Guide to Fake Dating - Adiba Jaigirdar 🌙 If They Come For Us - Fatima Ashgar

🌙 Life as a Unicorn - Amrou Al-Kadhi 🌙 How it All Blew Up - Arvin Ahmadi 🌙 Halal If You Hear Me - Various 🌙 Guapa - Saleem Haddad 🌙 A Map of Home - Randa Jarrar 🌙 This is All Your Fault - Aminah Mae Safi 🌙 If You Could Be Mine - Sara Farizan 🌙 The Disasters - M.K. England 🌙 Bright Lines - Tanwi Nandini Islam

🌙 Living Out Islam: Voices of Gay, Lesbian, and Transgender Muslims - Scott Siraj al-Haqq Kugle 🌙 Tell Me How You Really Feel - Aminah Mae Safi 🌙 The Love & Lies of Rukhsana Ali - Sabina Khan 🌙 Paris Daillencourt Is About to Crumble - Alexis Hall 🌙 Hijab Butch Blues - Lamya H 🌙 A Sinner in Mecca: A Gay Muslim's Hajj of Defiance - Parvez Sharma 🌙 You Exist Too Much - Zaina Arafat 🌙 How It All Blew Up - Arvin Ahmadi 🌙 Zachary Ying & the Dragon Emperor - Xiran Jay Zhao

🌙 Like a Love Story - Abdi Nazemian 🌙 The Walk-In Closet - Abdi Nazemian 🌙 A Guide to the Dark - Meriam Metoui 🌙 In Sensorium: Notes for My People - Tanaïs 🌙 Blood Orange - Yaffa 🌙 No Time Like Now - Naz Kutub 🌙 Naturally Tan - Tan France 🌙 This Arab is Queer - An Anthology by LGBTQ+ Arab Writers 🌙 Love is an Ex Country - Randa Jarrar

[veryfastnighuncatchable]

I understand why people are upset and I'm absolutely not here to tell anyone they're not valid! But I have some thoughts on the finale (note that I'm not a book reader!) ↓↓↓

First off, Siuan's death was not about Moiraine. I love Moiraine, and I love their relationship, but painting Siuan's death as simply a plot device for Moiraine does Siuan herself a huge disservice. Siuan was a powerful leader in a rapidly deteriorating political environment who fell to a coup, not a tragic romantic figure. While she acknowledged her love for Moiraine (in a very realistic way, in my opinion), her final speech to Elaida focused on her defiance and her belief in the light. Siuan didn't die to advance Moiraine's plot, she died as her own person.

Second, while I (as a member of the queer community) acknowledge the pattern in media of creating tragic queer relationships as side plots to the happier main hetero relationships, I don't think this pattern applies here. Yes, it was a tragic love story--but so was everyone else's. Rand and Egwene, Perrin and his wife, Alanna and her warders, even Lan and Nyneave, they all went through tragedies, deaths, forced separations, and conflicts. Why? Because everyone in WOT is fighting the war against the Dark One, and war is hell. That's the whole point. Siuan's death was tragic, but it wasn't for no reason. It showed how easy it is to create discord in times of strife, demonstrated the faults in the Aes Sedai, and further splintered the existing factions. Siuan didn't die for shock value--she had an actual, important death. And they didn't shoehorn a queer woman of color into the show just to be a side character and then kill her; Siuan was important in her own right, and there are also so many other powerful women, poc, and queer characters that will continue to fight for what's right, which is what Siuan died doing.

In all, while it was sad in the way that the deaths of any beloved characters are sad, I personally don't view Siuan's death as harmful or poorly executed. I think it aligned well with the plot of the show, and while she was stilled and bloody, Siuan Sanche died defiant, powerful, and unbroken.

Hail Siuan Sanche, daughter of the river.

[pynkhues]

I would LOVE to read your analysis of louis as byronic hero as apposed to his reading as gothic heroine. lots of the latter and zero of the former in the fandom.

Sure! Mmm, okay, so –

What are we talking about when we talk about Gothic Heroes?  

When we talk about gothic heroes, we’re really talking about three pretty different character archetypes. All three are vital to the genre, but some are more popular in certain subgenres i.e. your Prometheus Hero may be more common in gothic horror, whereas your Byronic Hero might be more likely to be found in gothic romance. That’s not to say they’re exclusive to those subgenres at all, and there is an argument that these archetypes themselves are gendered (in many ways, I think people confuse Anne being an author of the female gothic with Louis being a gothic heroine, but I’ll get into that later), but this is also not necessarily something that’s exclusive.

Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself, haha, so the three gothic hero archetypes are:

Milton’s Satan who is the classic gothic hero-villain. You can probably guess from the name, but he was originated in John Milton’s 1667 poem, Paradise Lost. He is God’s favourite angel, but God is forced to cast him out of heaven when he rebels against him. As an archetype, he’s a man pretty much defined by his pride, vanity and self-love, usually fucks his way through whatever book or poem he’s in, has a perverted, incestuous family, and a desire to corrupt other people. He’s also defined as being “too weak to choose what is moral and right, and instead chooses what is pleasurable only to him” and his greatest character flaw, in spite of all The Horrors, is that he’s usually easily misguided or led astray. (I would argue that Lestat fits into this archetype pretty neatly, but that’s a whole other post.)

Prometheus who was established as a gothic archetype by Mary Shelley with Frankenstein in 1818. Your Prometheus Hero is basically represented by the quest for knowledge and the overreach of that quest to bring on unintended consequences. He’s tied, of course, to the Prometheus of Greek myth, so you can get elements of that in this character design too in that he can be devious or a trickster, but the most important part of him is that he is split between his extreme intelligence and his sense of rebellion, and that his sense of rebellion and boundary pushing overtakes his intelligence and basically leads to All The Gothic Horrors.

And the Byronic Hero, who as the name implies, was both created by and inspired by the romantic poet, Lord Byron in his semi-autobiographical poem, Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage which was published between 1812-1818. The archetype is kind of an idealized version of himself, and as historian and critic Lord Macaulay wrote, the character is “a man proud, moody, cynical, with defiance on his brow and misery in his heart, a scorner of his kind, implacable in revenge, yet capable of deep and strong affection.” Adding to that, he’s often called ‘the gloomy egoist’ as a protagonist type, hates society, is often self-destructive and lives either exiled or in a self-exile, and is a stalwart of gothic literature, but especially gothic romance. Interestingly too, in his most iconic depictions he’s often a) darkly featured and/or not white (Heathcliff being the most obvious example of this given Emily Bronte clearly writes him as either Black or South Asian), and b) is often used to explore queer identity, with Byron himself having been bisexual.

Okay, but what about the Gothic Heroine?

Gothic heroines are less delineated and have had more of an evolution over time, which makes sense, given women have consistently been the main audience of gothic literature and have frequently been the most influential writers of the genre too. The gothic genre sort of ‘officially’ started with Horace Walpole’s 1764 novel, The Castle of Otranto and Isabella is largely regarded as the first gothic heroine and the foundation of the archetype, and the book opens even with one of the key defining traits – an innocent, chaste woman without the protection of a family being pursued and persecuted by a man on the rampage.

The gothic heroine was, for years, defined by her lack of agency. She was innocent, chaste, beautiful, curious, plagued by tragedy and often, ultimately, tragic. Isabella survives in The Castle of Otranto, but she’s one of the lucky ones – Cathy dies in Wuthering Heights, Sybil dies in The Picture of Dorian Gray, Justine and Elizabeth both die in Frankenstein, Mina survives in Dracula, but Lucy doesn’t. There’s an argument frequently posited that the gothic genre was, and is, about dead women and the men who mourn them, and Interview with the Vampire certainly lends itself to that pretty neatly.

Of course, the genre has evolved, and in particular by the late 1800s, there was a notable shift in how the Gothic Heroine was depicted. The house became a place of imprisonment where they were further constrained and disempowered, she was infantilized and pathologized and diagnosed as hysterical, and as Avril Horner puts it in her excellent paper, Women, Power and Conflict: the Gothic heroine and ‘Chocolate-box Gothic’, gothic literature of this era “explores “the constraints enforced [by] a patriarchal society that is becoming increasingly nervous about the demands of the ‘New Woman’.”

This was an era where marriage was increasingly understood in feminist circles to be a civil death where women were further subjugated and became the property of their husbands. This was explored through gothic literature as the domestic space evolved into a symbol of patriarchal control in the Female Gothic.

Female Gothic vs Male Gothic

Because here’s the thing – the female gothic and the male gothic are generally understood to be two different subgenres of gothic literature.

While there are plenty of arguments as to what this entails, the basics is that the male gothic is written by men, and usually features graphic horror, rape and the masculine domination of women and often utilises the invasion of women’s spaces as a symbol of further penetrating their bodies, while the female gothic is written by women, and usually features graphic terror, as opposed to horror, while delving more specifically into gender politics. More than that though, its heroines are usually victimized, virginial and powerless while being pursued by villainous men.

The Female Gothic as a genre is also specifically interested in the passage from girlhood to female maturity, and does view the house as a place of entrapment, but she is usually suddenly “threatened with imprisonment in a castle or a great house under the control of a powerful male figure who gave her no chance to escape.”

That’s not Louis’ arc, that’s Claudia’s arc twice over, first with the house at Rue Royale, then with the Paris Coven, and Lestat and Armand aren’t the only powerful male figures who imprison her.

Claudia as the Gothic Heroine

Claudia in many ways is the absolute embodiment of the classic gothic heroine. Even the moment of their meeting is a product of Louis’ Byronic heroism – his act of implacable revenge against the Alderman Fenwick which prompts the rioting that almost kills her. She’s a victim of Louis’ monstrousness before they’ve even met, and while he saves her, he arguably does something worse in trapping her in the house with both himself and Lestat, holding her in an ever-virginal, ever-chaste eternal girlhood, playing into Lestat’s Milton-Satan by enhancing the perversion of family and ultimately infantilizing her out of his own desire for familial closeness.

Claudia has no family protection before Louis and Lestat – a staple of the gothic heroine – she is completely dependent on them in her actual girlhood, and again in adulthood, never developing the strength to be able to turn a companion, to say nothing about the sly lines here and there that further diminish and pathologise her (Lestat calling her histrionic, Louis making her out to be a burden, etc.). This is all further compounded again with the Coven, and when the tragedy of her life ultimately leads to the tragedy of her death.  

Louis as the Byronic Hero

Not to start with a quote, but here’s one from The Literary Icon of the Byronic Hero and its Reincarnation in Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights:

“Generally speaking, the Byronic hero exhibits several particular characteristics. He does not possess heroic virtues in the usual, traditional sense. He is a well-educated, intelligent and sophisticated young man, sometimes a nobleman by birth, who at the same time manifests signs of rebellion against all fundamental values and moral codes of the society. Despite his obvious charm and attractiveness, the Byronic hero often shows a great deal of disrespect for any figure of authority. He was considered "the supreme embodiment [...] standing not only against a dehumanized system of labor but also against traditionally repressive religious, social, and familial institutions" (Moglen, 1976: 28).

The Byronic hero is usually a social outcast, a wanderer, or is in exile of some kind, one imposed upon him by some external forces or self-imposed. He also shows an obvious tendency to be arrogant, cunning, cynical, and unrepentant for his faults. He often indulges himself in self destructive activities that bring him to the point of nihilism resulting in his rebellion against life itself. He is hypersensitive, melancholic, introspective, emotionally conflicted, but at the same time mysterious, charismatic, seductive and sexually attractive.”

Louis as he exists in the show to me is pretty much all of those things, and I think to argue that he’s a gothic heroine not only diminishes Claudia’s arc, but robs Louis of his agency within his own story. Louis chooses Lestat, over and over again, he’s not imprisoned by the monster in the domestic sphere, he is one of the monsters who’s controlling the household, including making decisions of when they bring a child into it and when Lestat gets to live in it – he wanted to be turned, he wanted to live with Lestat in Rue Royale, and while there are certainly arguments to be made about their power dynamic within the household in the NOLA era, importantly Louis actually gained social power through his marriage to Lestat, particularly through The Azaelia, he didn’t lose it in the way that’s vital to the story of the gothic heroine.

Daniel Hart even said it in a recent twitter thread about Long Face, but there is an element of Lestat and Louis’ relationship that is transactional, and to me, for that to exist, they both have to have a degree of control over their circumstances and choices in order to negotiate those transactions. Claudia is the one who can’t, she’s the one who’s treated effectively as property, and she’s the one who lacks control over her circumstances.

While you could perhaps argue the constraints of the apartment in Dubai lend more to the gothic heroine archetype, I’d argue it as furthering the Byronic trope again by being representative both of Louis’ self-destruction and self-imposed exile. As Jacob has said a few times, Louis does seem to have known to a degree that Armand was involved in Claudia’s death on some level, and it’s that guilt and misery that has him allowing Armand his degree of control. The fact that Louis was able to leave Armand as easily and as definitively as he was I think demonstrates that distinction too – after all, to compare that ending to Claudia’s multiple attempts to leave the confines of the patriarchal house, both in Rue Royale and Paris, which were punished at every turn – first by her rape, then by Lestat dragging her back off the train, and then by the Coven orchestrating her murder.

Louis gets to leave because Louis can leave, he has both the social and narrative power to, and the fact that he does is, to me, completely at odds with the gothic heroine. Louis can, and does advocate for himself, Louis is proud, moody, cynical. Defiance is a key part of his character, just as his exile from NOLA society due to his race, and his chosen rejection of vampire society in Paris, is. He’s intelligent and sophisticated, travels the world, and has misery in his heart, guilt that eats him up, and self-destructive tendencies. That’s a Byronic Hero, baby!  

[ultfreakme]

Secret Six is putting Jon in a position where he is forced to form what his ideology of Superman is, fast.

With great power comes great responsibility. The person with power needs to define what their responsibilities are based on a steadfast ideals. Jon has never had to do this because he's a legacy hero of Superman. Clark has been very clear, but also rather succinct about what his ideals are. Be kind, be good, don't cause harm, protect. Truth, Justice, and the American Way.

None of this is going to work for Jon because he is his own person, his life experiences are different, and by being a bisexual man deeply involved with the queer community with queer and POC friends & lover, he needs to understand that this kind of blanket non-violence is never going to work.

Clark's Superman obviously defends the marginalized, but it's been acknowledged that a good chunk of his influence comes from being the "all-American" cishet white man. We don't see what it's like to be a hero who isn't these things through Clark's Superman. Typically, the Steels were who showed us the systematic discrimination, & how many more obstacles there are to upholding The Superman Way when you're marginalized.

(JHI had to watch his nephews be exploited, paralyzed, he had to watch as Nat tried to cope with all of this happening to her siblings, their entire family was threatened when she was barely a teenager. The trauma of going through all this as a child. Now I don't like the 90s Steel run because it is racist as hell but even the white author knew JH had to deal with the violent racism of the US on top of the sci-fi bombastic threats)

Point being, Jon being queer immediately brings up obstacles which makes the regular Superman motto inadequate. On top of this, the events of Absolute Power reaffirmed his fears of losing control of his powers & has pulled him away from the defiance he showed in SOKE. The safety of following Clark, verbatim, gives a sense of comfort that Jon has been searching for for 7-8 years. He's tired, he's done, so he'll go to a comforting lie if it gives him some reprieve.

Sucks for him because he's dating a guy named The Truth.

Jon loves Jay. Loving Jay means acknowledging that the superhero system, the American Government, and practically the entire world has let him down. The things he seeks safety in are used to torment Jay and his people.

Jon is trying to make Jay a part of the superfam and pull him into the comfort of this vague blanket ideology of "do good, be nice" thinking it'll help but Jay is well aware that it will not. He's been trying this since as early as SOKE #4. Take him to his family, getting Dick and Lois involved, trying to shut him away in the fortress of solitude for the final battle. But Jay has showed him time and time again that dating him means defiance, risk, rebellion.

There is nothing pretty or non-violent about dismantling a dictatorship. The definition of the "right thing" changes depending on circumstance. Secret Six as a group have always been outcasts who were exploited. Some of them want to do good, some are bad but only because their situations gave them little other choices, others are straight up evil but trying to reform. This is where moralities and lines blur.

Should Jon consider Lori a villain because she killed her parents due to a loss of power? Is Nia good or bad for accidentally using her powers which she barely understands to save him but also mess with his brain? Is Floyd terrible for wanting to protect a woman who colonized Gamorra or good for wanting to keep her alive? Is Thomas deserving of a chance to be a hero after his past as a villain?

Is Jay right or wrong for wanting revenge for his mother?

There is no correct answer in any of these cases when you learn the entire context. Jon needs to realize that a LOT of underprivileged, marginalized people are forced into violent systems, and that preaching non-violence can amount to complicity. What is Jon holding up by preaching the Superman Way? The aesthetic of righteousness, or true goodness? Who defines what the "correct" way to liberate is?

[babyangelsky]

I know we're all still sweating over the first half of this episode (or I am at least) but since I'm feeling chatty today, I really wanna talk about Mut and Tongrak's conversation at the restaurant and how much I loved it. There are so many little moments that deserve appreciation and recognition.

This is the first one. When the auntie comes over to sing Mut's praises, he doesn't look at her or at Tongrak, he just ducks his head. From what she says, we can gather that this isn't the first time he's brushed off compliments so it isn't that he's not used to praise. I think there's a little more to it.

And look at Tongrak's expression after the auntie leaves.

And the way he looks at Mut afterward. There's fondness there. There's respect and admiration. We've had small moments before this where the way Tongrak looks at Mut changes but this feels like the first time he really sees him. He's getting a clearer picture of who Mut is and what he means to the people in the village.

And it's because of that that he looks genuinely surprised and a little shocked when Mut reveals that his father kicked him out at 15. You can almost hear him asking himself, "how could anyone ever do that to this man?"

Mut talks about how he went to live with his aunt and started supporting himself relatively casually but there's a faraway look in his eyes when Tongrak asks why he doesn't go home.

And he looks down because despite his tone, it hurts to remember why he can't go home. It makes him sad to remember why he considers the fishing boat only his father's instead of theirs, as a family.

There's a defiance in his expression when he says that his father never takes back what he says and neither does he, and there was something about this specific wording and look that made me think that the reason his father kicked him out has to do with him being queer.

I have not read the novel (nor am I asking for spoilers) so I could be very wrong but this moment just read so queer to me. It unfortunately wouldn't be unheard of for a parent to kick out their queer child and for that child to cut ties with them because of it.

The shift in expression when Mut asks Tongrak if he thinks he's pitiful is so tiny but it's so significant. It's like he's daring Tongrak to pity him and resigned to it simultaneously, like pity is a foregone conclusion. It tells me that Mut is used to being pitied. He says himself moments before this that Tongrak could ask anyone on the island for his story so I'm sure there's no shortage of people who do pity him.

Maybe that's why he reacts the way he does when the auntie praises him. Maybe for him it's rare to be praised for his successes without having it be qualified or run through the filter of his personal history.

Even before Tongrak said a word in response, I knew what his answer was going to be. There's sympathy (and maybe even some empathy) in his expression. There's a sort of...I don't know how to describe it. Defiant kinship? that says, "why would I pity you?"

He shakes his head and gives a firm, decisive no. He doesn't pity Mut. He may not say it, but his face says that he's very quickly growing to admire and respect the person Mut has made of himself.

Of course he doesn't pity Mut. And hearing it makes Mut smile. A true, genuine smile that reaches his sparkly eyes and softens just a little bit when he says thank you.

This conversation felt like such a big shift for them. I have no doubt they're going to continue to bicker and annoy each other and piss each other off but from here on I think and hope there's going to be an undercurrent of understanding to it.

Tongrak is open to learning more about Mut and although Tongrak isn't willing to reveal too much of himself yet, the desire to learn more is there on Mut's part, too. He's not gonna push though. He accepts Tongrak's answer of why he became a writer being only for the fun of it.

And he does what no one else has before and praises Tongrak for it.

Which Tongrak was not expecting at all because why would he when no one has ever complimented him before? For Mut to be the first means a lot, and so does the fact that Tongrak compliments him right back.

Because I really do think that his compliment is coming from a place not only of respect, but from solidarity as well. We know that Tongrak doesn't want the people in the village to think badly of Mut for being affectionate with a man in public, and that moment also read very queer to me.

Queer people are like magnets and, in my experience at least, not only are we drawn to each other, we look out for each other. Tongrak doesn't give a damn what people think or say about him both because he's secure in who he is and because he's only a tourist, but Mut lives there. Despite his snark and snippiness, I don't think he wants Mut to have a hard time existing in his home.

Anyway! Those are just my few cents for this episode. This scene really stuck out to me and I wanted to talk about it because the whole time I was just:

Fort and Peat did some beautifully subtle acting and I didn't want it to get lost in the horny shuffle.

[100mistakesandcounting]

Unspoken Desires

CW: Gentile Piercings, obscene language, unhealthy relationship with sex and women, smut, mentions of drug use, slight internalized homophobia and misogyny.

Simon "Ghost" Riley X Reader

Simon Riley is a dog—well-trained, routine-oriented, and loyal to a fault. He was also a dog when it came to women—the type to have a one-night stand and delete your number within the hour.

It came to him as second nature. In his younger years, he never found himself tied down to one bird. Instead, he had a string of them from around town who were more than willing to let him stay in their beds while he grappled with his own issues between their legs.

He never truly considered their pleasure; he preferred women who were simply along for the ride and found joy in his relentless hips.

And if he got really bored, he’d find himself wandering into the bars that flew their rainbow pride a little too high. Approach a tiny bloke at the bar who was too queer to even see past his hereditary straightness. That'd let Simon bend him over in a cramped stall and drain his load without even knowing his name. Didn't matter if he got off or not, as long as Simon did.

One day, with too much liquid courage running through his bones, Johnny mentioned something about a new breed of women, size queens, he called them. On this dating app. He rambled on about a bird who begged to see his goods before even considering meeting him in person.

After downloading the app on his previously stock phone, Simon found his outlet. These women were less concerned with looks and more focused on their own needs. This was how he realized how much he enjoyed watching a woman struggle to fit his cock inside herself without his help.

They would harp on about how it was their biggest, saw their mouths watering at the sight of the gleaming metal bars at the base—a souvenir from one of his deployments when he finally ran out of space on his arms for ink.

All he had to do was watch as she struggled until she begged him. Then he would flip ‘em over and shove it in without remorse. Those girls made it enjoyable; they were always a good time. They didn't care that he never removed the mask; in fact, some of them enjoyed its presence, cunts dripping at the sight of it. They all had some weird fetish, and he was more than willing to indulge them if it meant maintaining an air of ambiguity.

This was what he liked. At least before.

A chance meeting at a club he was reluctantly taken to when the team decided to take leave together. They had all shared a hotel room, sleeping back to back as they drank, ate, and fucked their way through multiple cities in Europe.

This evening, they were in Scotland, just a couple of days before they were scheduled to travel to Soap’s family home.

It was a type of ‘alternative’ club, filled with civilians in their prime, adorned with excessive eyeliner and spikes. According to Johnny, this was where he spent a lot of his time before his enlistment. The eyebrow piercing and metal-coated ear finally made sense as more of a subculture thing than a defiance of military guidelines.

The music vibrated through his body, his beer sweating as Roach and he sat at the sticky bar. They had been approached by multiple women and men at this point, all trying to persuade them to dance.

They both didn't actually consider what they were doing to be dancing; it was more like aggressively moving their bodies against one another.

The presence of drugs made Simon turn his nose up at the crowd. If he had been younger, he would have been more willing to indulge; however, now, on the deafening edge of 40, he knew better. Knew it would leave him with an aching back, bloodshot eyes, and a cottonmouth.

Soap and Gaz immediately immersed themselves in the crowd, both shirtless, as they fully embraced the flashing lights and swirling smoke.

Soap somehow managed to get a couple of people who coated their hands in neon paint and touched random parts of his body. Eventually, there was nothing but a large splotch running down his chest to the front of his crotch.

He wasn't sure when exactly he’d stopped watching his friends weave through the crowd. He thinks it's when he turned around to order another beer and saw her.

She had been sitting next to him, looking a bit worse for wear—almost like a lost puppy. She mentioned that she had lost her friends after turning down some pills. Not only that, but from the looks of it, she had been nursing a drink for nearly as long as he had before he finally chugged it back.

“Y/N,” a pair of pouty red lips replied when he asked for her name. She wore nothing more than a miniskirt and a laced corset, which he imagined he could easily cut her out of. A dangerous thought. The ribbons were so delicate that he could probably tear through them with just his teeth. “What’s yours?”

“Simon…”

Before he even realized it, he had followed her outside, both leaning against the stone wall of the alleyway, sharing a smoke. He rolled his mask up over his nose while lighting it for them, pretending not to notice how her eyes immediately darted to the scar on his mouth.

He felt his chest and pants grow tight as her lips wrapped around the white stick, the smoke escaping her lips and nose like that of a seasoned smoker. In the darkness and neon lights, he had thought she looked too young, but under the streetlights, he could see more of her face.

Quick eyes, soft features, and those sexy fucking lips.

He finally noticed their height difference; he had at least a foot on her. He could easily pick her up and hold her under his arms like a sack of potatoes. In fact, his work duffel bag was harder to carry than she would be.

She couldn't have been older than her mid-twenties—still young. It was morally wrong, but something about her made his fucking head spin every time she handed him back his cigarette, leaving a stain of her lipstick before he put it in his mouth.

Her friends were no longer responding to her texts, likely too high to even realize she was missing. They would regret that later.

“So why the mask, Simon? Is it a rave thing or a personal thing?” She inquired, her dainty fingers already poised for the return of the cigarette.

A deep grunt escaped his chest as he formed his words, “Personal. Never like to take it off.” There was challenge in her eyes at that statement, as if she were considering what she could do to make him take it off. Honestly, if she wanted him to, he would comply, but he would definitely ask for something of hers in return.

Her next words almost made the cigarette drop from his mouth, “Even during sex?” Cheeky thing.

“Want to find out.” The look in her eyes should not have made him abandon his friends in that club. Should not have made him let her guide him back to her tiny flat, where he barely fit through the entryway. Should not have made him so hungry that he took solace in devouring those red lips until they were barely red anymore.

Ever the soldier, it didn't take more than a couple of glances to get all the answers he needed—one bedroom, definitely lived alone by the amount of laundry on the couch and small trinkets on her wall.

What really stood out to him was the amount of books on her walls. Studious. He liked smart girls. Or at least he did when he wasn't using them for sex.

He was lightly shoved down on her bed, finally eye to eye with her after having towered over her, taking in the way her corset accentuated her waistline and the swell of her full hips under that tight miniskirt.

Nothing could have prepared him for how she would look dropped to her knees, cheek pressed into the thigh of his jeans, or for the way she stared in disbelief at his size.

“Too much?” He poked fun at the way her cheeks grew hot. All he had to do was grab her chin and tilt her head back, his thumb gently tracing her bottom lip. “Just be a good girl and open wide.”

The shift in her eyes as her mouth dropped open for him was one he’d be playing in his head for the nights he’d fuck his hands in the barracks.

She would struggle, of course, tears prickling her eyes as she eased him into her throat, fighting everything in her body to gag. Whenever she did, she would start again, slurping her way back down while keeping her eyes locked on him as if to say, “See, I'm a good girl, I can do it.”

She licked on the underside of his cock, dragging it along his vein, and lapped each time she hit a bar.

Normally, he would have been glad to forgo eye contact. Much too intimate for him, but there was something about those kohl-lined eyes, how they commanded his attention even while they were hazy with lust.

As soon as he felt the dull heat in his belly grow into a flame, he sunk his hands into her hair and pulled her off of him. “You’ve had your fun.” Her disappointment was palpable, but as much as he wanted to coat her face in his cum, he needed to get her undressed first.

She would begin to unlace the corset, struggling with the ties until she peered at him with a silent plea. Cute.

Simon reached into his pocket and pulled out his pocket knife, watching her eyes go big when he opened it in front of her face.

“You can't use that,” she argued at him, huffing in annoyance as she heard him chuckle. “I really like this one.”

To preserve her attachment, he undid its laces, antagonizing slowly like he was unwrapping a gift. In reality, she was salvation, a fresh bowl of water for a parched dog. When the little number was off, he let it fall to the ground. That was when he noticed the mirror hanging from the bedroom door opposite her bed.

Their eyes met, and he took in how the light coming from outside her window reflected off her skin. He reached forward and tugged down her skirt to see the full picture, drinking it in.

He pulled her back into his lap, using his knees to force her legs apart. The only thing preventing him from seeing all of her was the tiny red underwear dampened with her arousal.

Simon decided at that moment that he didn't want to wait any longer and brought his knife back around. “Hold still,” he grumbled, feeling her body tense up at the feeling of the metal grazing her skin as he cut the panties off and let them fall down her leg to the ground.

He made a noise of content as he would finally see all of her—beautiful skin, supple tits with hardened nipples moving with each breath, and a weeping cunt.

All for him to take as he pleased.

“Look at you…” His voice purred against her ear. Hands moving to explore her soft skin, running along her thighs, up her stomach until he had two handfuls of her breasts. He rolled her nipples under his fingers as he kept their eye contact. “So pretty and soft…”

The way her breath hitched, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip as she let his fingers do all the work.

One of the hands had migrated down, the other sliding up the smooth skin until it hovered around her neck. His fingers delicately parted her open, allowing the pooled wetness to coat his fingers just enough to allow one of them to slip in.

He chuckled at the little gasp that left her as his finger pumped into her, quickly adding a second to feel her walls flutter around the intrusion. He still pulled and pinched at her pebbled nipples while his fingers curled up against her sensitive spot.

Her head fell back onto his shoulder, soft desperate moans falling from her lips that egged him on. He felt pride swelling in his chest at the thought that he could bring her pleasure with two fingers alone.

His nose was buried deep in the wildness of her hair, smelling the remains of her perfume and shampoo. “Safe word.” He muttered, his lips pressing down into her neck.

“Ah… Huh?” She would mumble as her eyes snapped up to meet his gaze back in the mirror.

“What’s your safe word?” He growled again, growing amused at the effect he had on her.

Eyes still hazy and unfocused, she would struggle to find the words until he began to pull away at her assumed hesitation. It was his fingers withdrawing from her tight warmth that made her snap out of it.

“W-Wait! Fuck!” She stammered, struggling to claw her way out of the haze of her own desire-fueled thoughts. “I don't have one.”

Simon made a noise of annoyance before lifting her up by her waist to straddle him instead. In this position, she was facing him head-on, but also his hard cock was pressed to her heat. “That's not good, Love.” He would croon. “Can't fuck ya’ if you don't have one.”

He could admit that he was slightly disappointed that she obviously wasn't used to this, probably didn't bring back a lot of guys. She seemed like a good girl.

Probably never took strange masked men back home to fuck her. That's fine. He was fine with being a first for her.

She looked at him with confusion, obvious annoyance at his words. “Fine. I’ll choose something easy.” He could almost see the words flying through her head as she thought. As encouragement, he rolled his hips up into hers. His length gliding right between her folds.

It was amusing to see just how fast he could make her brain short-circuit and her teeth gnaw at her abused lower lip.

“Apple!” She huffed out quickly. “Apple is good. Now, please, I need you.”

Simon grabbed her hips, fingers pressed into the plush skin to flip her onto the bed. He took his hand and pressed it between her legs, digits, and palm gliding against her folds before taking it away to use her wetness to stroke his cock. Her eyes watched the movement, breath getting caught at the shameless display.

“Fuckin’ ya raw. Alright?” His tone was less of asking permission. More that he was just telling her out of courtesy. She just nodded along, spreading her legs wider for him.

God, he wanted to ruin her; she was too trusting. He hadn't grabbed a condom, didn't plan on using one tonight. It was supposed to be a little trip to the club with the team.

Maybe it was stupid of him to think his dick wouldn't have had a mind of its own tonight, safer to assume he’d end up between a pair of pretty legs than not at all.

When he sank the head of his cock into her, he knew that he'd made a mistake almost immediately. She was tight, extremely tight, tighter than a goddamn vice. He could feel the slick welcoming him in deceivingly like a drug.

His eyes darted from the sight of her cunt spread open on his tip to her face; it was a silent question that she immediately understood, nodding once again. So he pushed forward.

Her gasp was like honey, moans like nectar that he swallowed when he pressed his lips to hers. He let her have a moment to adjust, but he could feel how her body shook and clenched around him.

Every second was pure torture. He wasn't sure why he was sitting here counting out backwards to contain his incomprehensible need to move.

Through fluttery eyes and pants, he saw a moment of clarity through her eyes before he felt her hips move gingerly, a test to see if the fullness was too much for her body to handle.

It's happened in the past, but usually it was before he’d taken real estate next to her damn cervix. He saw how she’d let him fuck her mouth; this wasn't a woman with no experience. Not a strait-laced innocence who’d never been fucked before.

No. He filled her up too easy. Sure, it was a tight fit, but her cunt had swallowed him whole. He was likely her biggest, but he had no doubt that this was a girl that liked to fuck. Liked her body worshiped and coaxed to the edge.

The confirmation he needed was when he watched her eyes roll after fucking herself on his cock, hesitantly finding what she needed. One of the balls of his piercings rubbing nicely against her spongy spot was enough to have her arching and reaching for him.

“Move, Simon.”

He was gone.

Next

A/N: I'm experiemnting with something here and if yall like it i'll write more i guess? IDK.

[trekbait]

Cardassia’s Gay Venues - Ranked

Cardassia’s strict gender roles and focus on family have meant for much of the past few hundred years the queer community there, while tolerated, has lived in the shadows. Post-war, it’s all change on Cardassia and we’re proud to report on some of the hottest queer venues (or "tailor shops" in the local slang) on the planet!

#1 The Blue Spoon

Officially a 300-year-old private members club for women excelling in science and engineering (Cardassia’s traditionally female-dominated careers), this club has been a haven for Cardassia’s sapphics away from prying eyes. Those in the know of course might recognise the name; “blue spooning” being a slang term on Cardassia for a lesbian relationship. But they’ve maintained an air of deniability and exclusive privacy.

Reluctantly opening their doors to a new generation, we joined one of their latest parties with these finely dressed women, often with very masculine cuts, dancing to an all-female orchestra. From our conversations with patrons, it seems those women who do serve in the military are in exceptional demand now they’re allowed in, particularly among the younger patrons. One older Gul was seen carrying two young women around on her shoulders before vanishing towards the powder room.

#2 The Hot Rock

With their preference for the heat and dark, relative to many humanoids, it’s no surprise how popular saunas are on Cardassia. That holds true for gay Cardassians too. The Hot Rock is the biggest gay sauna in the capital and a meeting place for much of its community. Over 4 floors deep under Lakarian Way there is no end of dark corners to arrange a semi-private rendezvous in temperatures passing 90 degrees Celsius in places. 

The upper floors are dotted with dancers, bars and various entertainment. Not being able to handle the heat downstairs, we talked to a few of the patrons. One ex-tailor we spoke to told us of how prior to the war it was very much a “don’t ask, don’t tell” situation on Cardassia. The primacy of the family always had the understanding of affairs on the side, but on the understanding they were kept discreet.

These days, it seems, the old ways are out along with the old leadership. We asked the patron if there were any prominent gay Cardassians in this new society. He replied, “my dear, they’re all gay.” When asked if that included the government, he added “Especially the government.” The patron himself says that he is just visiting for the sauna and was not gay at all, but his friend Elim used to date a human doctor for a few years who was “ravishing.” He grinned as he went back to watching the dancers. Let’s hope this ‘Elim’ finds new love on this new Cardassia.

#3 Dom In Me Cabaret

What was previously an underground satirist group of drag performers during the war is now an ongoing headline show with a full musical comedy based around the Dominion leadership. The king playing the Vorta 'Why-Ooo' steals the show with his sycophantic solos dedicated to his unrequited love for the abusive Changeling.

We lost count of the number of times different characters killed Why-Oooo but the audience cheered mercilessly without fail. The group is currently working on a new act around Tain and the Obsidian Order, something unthinkable a few years ago!

#4 The Ending Sacrifice Bookshop

For a quieter atmosphere, turn to The Ending Sacrifice which now openly sells literature deemed inflammatory to the Cardassian sense of “Family Is All.” Stories of powerful people forsaking arranged marriages to elope with their true love stock the shelves in defiance of the prevailing ideology. The owner, Manek, explains how they how to challenge the monoculture on Cardassia imposed by Central Command over the past 100 years.

“Historically,” they say, “the early Hebitian civilizations were far more liberal and pluralistic. We valued our differences and our culture above military conquest. We want to return to that openness. So much of our society has been suppressed. Did you know that, like most reptilian-like humanoids, Cardassians have the capacity to change sex in certain circumstances? Under the Central Command, this is an unspoken medical disorder to be fixed rather than a natural function of our biology.”

The bookshop hosts literary and academic talks on a number of topics which are free to attend. Drop in and speak to Manek for more.

#5 Obsidian Eyes

Tucked away on the outskirts of Lakat is a BDSM club that only recently opened. For some, the end of the Obsidian order and their eternal monitoring of the whole of Cardassian society (especially it’s queer members) must be something to be missed. Because here, patrons can meet in cold metal interrogation rooms and be watched through “secret” one-way mirrors by “agents of the Obsidian Order”. At a certain point during their liaison, the agents will barge into the room and place the lovers on trial. 

We asked staff if the “agents” were real, or more accurately former, members of the Obsidian Order or just actors. Each person we asked gave an entirely conflicting account of the whole operation and one just quoted lines from Enigma Tales at us. So we’re not sure what to say at this point other than this is an exhibition and humiliation kink we didn’t think we’d see on our trip.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Why the fight for queer rights isn't over (it should be obvious, but to some people it isn't)

TW: transphobia and homophobia

Hi, Tumblr, this is Asmi. If you know me, it's probably as the Good Omens Mascot, which is flattering. I've found so much love and queer positivity in the good omens fandom, and the beautiful thing is how it's canon. Many people outside the queer community don't realise how crucial media and communities like this are. Right now since I'm on break from education, I'm on tumblr for most of the time I'm awake (which is not a lot, I nap more than Crowley). It's wild how different it is from the real world, that I live in at least.

I'm sure a lot of you might have had a similar experience to this: Basically, two people in my life, my bio father and my ex, both told me to my face that queer people needed to stop calling themselves oppressed and how now it's queer people who hold all the power and are oppressing other people. With all due respect, what the fuck.

I live in India, and being a trans guy who is bi and aspec, it's a cesspit. While I'm gendered correctly on Tumblr, and people are so loving and supportive, in real life even my friends who say they support me misgender me 90% of the time. Same with my family. In my previous college which I had to leave because of bullying by both the students and admin, even the queer students would misgender me (I told them I used they/them pronouns, because he/him would have been too unsafe, but even that they didn't manage). In the college I'll join next, it won't be safe for me to be out at all, at risk of losing opportunities and safety. Gay marriage is still illegal. Homophobia and transphobia is the norm. This doesn't even cover all the daily indignities like queerphobic jokes, casual discourse on whether or not we deserve rights, etc. Discrimination against aroace-spec people is rampant even within the queer community, worldwide.

And I live in an urban area, one of the largest cities in India known for its progressiveness and for being relatively safe for queer people. I am privileged compared to other queer people here. The story in other cities, in rural areas which make up most of the country, is far more horrifying. I'm unqualified to speak about anything other than my own experience, but if you can (if you are in a stable and calm enough mental state to handle the information, please put your mental health first) I'm sure there are first person accounts on the many forums.

The fight for equality is not over. It doesn't end with laws riddled with loopholes, it doesn't end even with laws that genuinely help the queer community. Aside from the huge problems of living safely and with access to equal opportunities and resources for people, we deserve dignity, peace, and the right to feel accepted and that we're not an abnormality. And so much more.

I haven't said anything that hasn't been said before, but it can't be said enough. To the queer people reading this, take all my love. We need to stand together, eliminate discourse over who is queer enough to be queer, and be the safe space that the world will not provide for us.

It's not over, and it hasn't been won by a long shot, but what matters is that we're fighting. Even existing as ourselves in a world that tells us it is a crime, is defiance and a step towards making this right.

[ambulancevsambulance]

This is my Essay from the MCR Swarm Zine. I kept hesitating to put it up here, as I feel pretty tender about it. But after everything that happened yesterday, today. I feel like I have to put it out here. It's necessary. Needed. For myself, at the very least.

--

"'Cause you only live forever in the lights you make”

It’s June 2022, and I’m watching My Chemical Romance perform songs of anger, community, and defiance in one of my favorite cities- Prague. 

The city of my father’s family. A city that has repeatedly stared tyranny in the face and decided to rise up despite the odds.  

It’s 1945 and the citizens have rebelled to take back the city from the Nazis, street by street.

It’s the spring of 1968, and citizens fight against another oppressive regime. They are supposed to be crushed in four days. 

They last eight. Months. 

It’s 1989, another uprising, one that comes to be known as the Velvet Revolution. The city is finally free, a culmination of every revolution and rebellion that has come before. 

In each instance citizens clawed towards freedom by any means necessary, fighting in the open to stop jackbooted goons from holding onto power. To save friends, family, and complete strangers from suffering for one more moment. Each time they lost, they made sure to make it hurt, and to make the oppressor remember how hard the fight had been. 

They didn’t always win the battle,

–The good guys die and the bad guys win–

but they won the war. 

These people keenly knew that institutions will not save you. Only your fellow comrades will.

It’s June 2022. My friends and I are facing calls of discrimination, for extermination. It can be a miserable time, but I find strength in watching one of my favorite bands. I join the hundreds on livestream, watching the thousands in the stadium. Our eyes fixed on the five on stage. 

As Gerard starts crooning out the notes of Heaven Help Us for the first time in fourteen years, again I’m reminded:

They will not save you.

What is this song but a scream to be saved by outside forces? That in the midst of a cruel martyrdom, the Heavens will be silent to pleas for help. It’s the punchline to the joke, right? No higher power is coming to save you, no matter how much you cry. 

Best they can offer is to watch you burn. 

Heaven Help Us has never been a hopeful song–and it’s a struggle to feel hopeful, some days. 

But the world is an echo of the past as much as it is a march towards an uncertain future. I feel those ghosts whispering to remember this city’s history while watching MCR on stage. To remember that the only solidarity that can be found is in mutual aid–in the community of our fellow freaks and queers and fags. That without intersectionality between it all we will fucking fail. It’s hard work, and we won’t always win.

That doesn’t mean we– I – should give up. And MCR agrees. In contrast to the despair of Heaven Help Us, there is Danger Days– which speaks more to me now than any other MCR album. Songs of radical love and resistance against fascist conglomerates and an uncaring apocalyptic world…that doesn’t feel as fictional as it did before. 

In Prague, MCR plays six songs from that album (Boy Division counts, damn it). Seeing Gerard, Frank, and Ray all screaming into their microphones about an apocalypse that is crashing down around our ears lights a fire inside of me. Reminding me that changing the world might mean dying, but hell yeah lets try anyways. Your sacrifice might light the path of victory for others. You get to be the fucking detonator–and isn’t that a privlege? To have your acts of resistance inspire the next in line. 

It’s in direct contrast to the lament of Heaven. Stop asking who, what will save us, and realize we have to save ourselves. By any means possible. 

The concert ends with Kids from Yesterday, and I finish the night listening to Gerard sing that the only people we can truly count on are each other. That fighting for your friends is the purest form of love alive. 

So in the face of extermination, say fuck you.

And make damn sure your friends want to leave graffiti on your grave. 

[nortism]

Les Misérables fic recommendations (canon era edition)

I’ve made a Les mis fic rec post before but I cannot find it for the life of me. Anyway I love canon era, here are some of my fav fics for a good variety of ships (including platonic!)

Not Even Miracles by everyonewasabird (@everyonewasabird)

Rating: M

Word Count: 113,715 (incomplete)

Ship/s: Combeferre & Courfeyrac & Enjolras, Cosette/Courfeyrac/Marius, Cosette & Jean Valjean

Summary:

Post-barricade survival fic about found family. Combeferre searches for Enjolras, Cosette tries to save her father, Enjolras atones, and Courfeyrac struggles to come to terms with all of it.

Not an everybody lives AU, but I promise there's a happy ending for everyone who made it out.

Notes: PERFECT STUNNING GORGEOUSSS!! Do not let it being uncompleted put you off because what is there is some of the best fic I’ve ever read. Perfect if you’re like me and enjoy fics that focus primarily on platonic relationships. Possibly my favourite Cosette and Combeferre characterisation. Just read it

Annoyances by Secretmellowblog (@secretmellowblog)

Rating: G

Word Count: 29,339 (incomplete)

Ship/s: Javert & Jean Valjean, Javert/Jean Valjean

Summary:

Jean Valjean, exhausted from the barricades and the sewer, somehow finds the strength to drag Javert out of the Seine. He has no strength left for anything else. He collapses from exhaustion on the quai near the Pont Au Change as the situation rapidly devolves into tragicomedy.

Notes: Yes another incomplete fic but I promise it’s so worth it. The author manages to imitate Hugo’s style really well as well as balancing humour with the characters’ rapidly deteriorating mental state. Not very shippy so far so I’d recommend it even to my non- Valverters. Also another fic with great Cosette characterisation which is very important to me.

No Weapon But Hate by Carmarthen

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,075 (complete)

Ship/s: Unrequited Javert/Jean Valjean

Summary:

Jean Valjean realizes that there is yet more that Toulon could take from him.

Notes: Read the warnings on this one because it is pretty heavy but a really interesting exploration of Jean Valjean’s time in Toulon. A lot of adaptations fail in showing this part of the story “on screen” but I loved how this author did it, you really get into JVJ’s head. Also really well researched, I love a fic with a reference list at the end.

Nature in Defiance of Nomenclature by BenevolentErrancy

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,352 (complete)

Ship/s: Combeferre & Enjolras, mentioned Enjolras/Grantaire

Summary:

Asexual-homoromanticism can be a complex enough matter when a name exists for it. When faced with such inclinations and a 19th century approach to sexuality matters become more obscure

Notes: A beautiful friendship centred fic. I love reading about discussions of queerness in a pre “homosexuality” (the term not the concept) world, it’s always so fascinating to me. This fic is part of a wider series that I haven’t read yet but looks good.

Driven Like The Snow by tenlittlebullets

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,897 (complete)

Ships/s: Éponine/Montparnasse, one sided Éponine/Marius

Summary:

The night after the Gorbeau robbery, Eponine wanders the streets of Paris.

Notes: A very very depressing Éponine character study that I absolutely adored. I loved how the writing style followed a stream of conscious as Éponine spends the night out in the cold, her thoughts getting less and less coherent. Montparnasse and Marius are discussed but it’s mostly just Éponine.

Sensible Depravity by thatbug

Rating: M

Word Count: 2,806 (complete)

Ship/s: Grantaire & Combeferre, Combeferre/OMC

Summary:

Grantaire is delighted to discover that Combeferre is in a relationship with a man.

Notes: Severely underrated fic. Really funny and full of canon-typical Grantaire awfulness (like seriously, he’s a real dick in this one) but also some fun exploration of 19th century queer identity.

On Liberty and Love by labingi

Rating: G

Word Count: 3,668 (complete)

Ship/s: Enjolras/Jean Prouvaire

Summary:

Jehan and Enjolras discuss love and liberty (and gay rights--no, this is not a modern AU).

Notes: I love a good rarepair and this is a very good rarepair. Takes place in that awkward period after the 1830 revolution and of course has some interesting exploration of queer identity in the 19th century, and it blurs the lines between romantic and platonic relationships which is always fun.

on your way up to the light by ryfkah

Rating: T

Word Count: 6,554 (complete)

Ships/s: Éponine & Jean Valjean

Summary:

Eponine throws a note at an old man. She doesn't anticipate the consequences.

Notes: Just a really delightful fix it fic with amazing characterisation of both the main characters. I loved the parallels between Éponine and JVJ and how they were able to come together to give each a fresh start.

Some Friendlier Sky by AMarguerite

Rating: T

Word Count: 124,800 (complete)

Ships: Courfeyrac/Cosette, Joly/Musichetta, Cosette & Jean Valjean (not tagged but they feature heavily)

Summary:

Courfeyrac falls through the roof of no. 7 Rue de l'Homme Armé, taking down not only the ceiling, but the carefully built walls Valjean has constructed around himself and Cosette. Wacky hijinks ensue.

Notes: This really sold me on Courfsette as a ship and now I’m devastated they don’t really have any more fics. Besides our two leads, Valjean gets explored really well in this fic. I also really enjoyed Courfeyrac’s family in this (him being one of many siblings just makes sense to me) as well as his friendship with Combeferre and Enjolras. The balance of humour with some genuinely serious moments is done to perfection and the author clearly knows their 19th century French history. Also for all my Marius lovers, he gets a relatively happy ending, don’t worry! Genuinely cannot recommend enough.

The Stranger at Rue Plumet by sylvie_rue (@ruedesfillesducalvaire)

Rating: M

Word Count: 15,354 (incomplete but updated recently)

Ship/s: Cosette/Éponine, minor Javert/Jean Valjean, Éponine & Jean Valjean, Cosette & Jean Valjean

Summary:

Éponine, dressed as a boy, is Montparnasse's reluctant accomplice for a night of criminal business. When their attempted robbery goes wrong, Montparnasse flees and leaves Éponine in the hands of their would-be victim. But the old man is merciful, as it turns out: he offers to help her, to give her a home and send her to school. Éponine knows he would surely rescind the offer if he found out her real identity: not only a girl, but a Thénardier. So when she accepts, she knows what it will cost her: she is no longer Éponine, but Émile, a boy. After settling in at the house on Rue Plumet, though, Éponine finds herself increasingly drawn to her rescuer's daughter, Cosette, who knows her only as a young man...

Notes: Unlike the previous rec, this fic does not have a happy ending for Marius but it does have genderbending lesbians which is way better. Every new update of this fic has taken me by surprise in a good way. I am of course loving Éponine exploring gender and sexuality in the 19th century and the complex layers of her relationship with Cosette. Really can’t wait to read more!

[rei-ismyname]

X-Men Krakoan Pride Month Highlights 🏳️‍🌈

Happy Pride Month, folks!

Let's ignore the tension between rainbow capitalism and 'no Avengers at pride' to enjoy some of my favourite moments of Marvel deciding exactly how much queerness is profitable and not a tiny bit more! It's always a good sign when they remix decades-old coming out panels, except twinkified by 250%! Seriously though, I love the characters and by making a collage of pirated content I'm asserting queer fan ownership of (and participation in) trillion dollar IP. Praχis! BGDC

Age difference? What age difference? (~80 and<18.) Pseudo manga yassification can make an ancient bisexual reformed mass murderer and gay lizard boy seem like peers. It's not like that plays into harmful propaganda and stereotypes about gay men and bisexuals! Obviously I'm overthinking it 😅

The body positivity and self actualisation is sweet plus if you squint you can see Logan hugging his boyfriend Scott in the background. It's literally the closest physical contact the two have ever been depicted displaying. Lunar polycule content is pretty rare, so please - think queer thoughts with me in defiance of Tom Brevoort claiming it 'never happened.'

You know Moriarty from Sherlock Holmes? Here's him NOT being a homophobe while blackmailing Irene Adler. The couple he's dehumanising and threatening just happen to be WLW. He does this to cis and straight folks too. Diversity win!

Here's his dumb ass being murdered for it by an immortal sapphic shapeshifter, his lifeless body tossed out a train window. See ya, hater. Love wins!

How did this get here? Oops, that's my bad. Almost as awkward as the year Marvel celebrated allies for Pride, completely ignoring queer characters! Let's just assume they fuck on the last page, hey? Loves summertime/hates summertime - the two genders.

Lest we think queerphobia is exclusively an Earth thing, here's a tale of closeted self loathing on Arakko. I know I feel seen when Solem murders his former lover with a blade that canonically sends you to hell - a place that isn't loaded at all in this context!

I do enjoy the intersectionality of the story and the willingness to show that acceptance isn't a binary. It would be easy to just make Kobak-Never-Held the only voice, proclaiming that a culture of violence doesn't care who you love or fuck. It's also pretty great that noted social Darwinist Apocalypse has a daughter who married a closeted bisexual man. Mass murdering war criminals can be widows to dead queers and homophobic at the same time. It's the duality of the human condition!

Happy ending! Instead of killing each other they have an identity affirming one night stand off-panel. The red planet is woke, you heard it here, but don't worry - Solem the ravenous, insatiable bisexual will be back to stalking Logan before you know it! In a digital only comic of course Negative, or exaggerated stereotype representation is important too! 🏳️‍🌈

That Storm impression is pretty funny. Does that mean the animated X-Men series exists in universe? Comics released before 2002 do, but I'm not sure what the deal is these days. I'm not sure what Ororo's problem with Bobby's jokes is - they're better than usual and he seems pretty happy. 'Guncle' - I hadn't heard that one before but it's pretty intuitive. Yeah okay, I get what Ororo's getting at. Bobby's basically just saying 'I'm gay' repeatedly in different ways. Applies to most of his publication history tbh. Closeted young people who cope with humour rejoice - you can still do that when/if you come out and your friends will still treat you with the same mild annoyance as ever!

I don't think Bobby will ever recover from that one. Pretty bold to be so plain about Ororo as a queer icon without saying why. The comics code no longer forces innuendo and insinuation. I'm a little surprised Al Ewing didn't go beyond coding when he had the opportunity. Maybe he wasn't allowed, idk, MCU properties have different rules. At least he undid Axel Alonso's 'Hercules is straight' bullshit.

Lastly, confirmation that Destiny knew the Sisterhood of Evil Mutants would fail at everything but the commitment to 'be gay, do crime' was too powerful. Doesn't really explain working for the government as mutant catchers but I guess arresting Magneto for trial of Crimes against Humanity was a win for everyone. Hmm, it even led to Chuck bouncing to space for a few years. Thanks for your service, ancient lesbians!

[codenamesazanka]

This may be an odd question, but you said in the past that you used to like Naruto, right? Do you think Toga's death is comparable to Neji's (as a character that died to push the main character and their love interest together)?

In a way, yes, Toga's death was comparable to Neji's, in that she died and her death was used to push the main character and the love interest together. I would say the case for Toga was arguable worse, due to Toga's prominence in the story and what her storyline was about; but Neji's death was def more shallow and dumb.

From what I remember, Neji, while cool, was a side character. He resolved his 'I hate the main family for enslaving the branch family' arc in Part 1, and was pretty chill after that. Then out of nowhere he died, and, iirc, used his dying words to push Hinata and Naruto together. Awful, and undermining the themes of his character, but tbh quite a minor thing in the overall story of Naruto.

Toga, however, was one of the main villains, had a much more stronger connection to Ochako, the female lead (somewhat; forever overshadowed by the stoplight trio), and her arc spanned the entire length of My Hero Academia. and a bit after that too, given 431. Her story and themes were essential to the world of My Hero Academia, its core conflicts, and resolution - she/her villainy was the result of a long-standing pattern of child abuse due to stigma and lack of full tolerance for quirks, conversion-therapy-coded Quirk Counseling that was meant to force children to conform to an arbitrary standard, and a justice system that condemned her at 15-years-old and made her think Heroes will kill her instead of getting her help. Then there's her being canonically bisexual, so that her innate desires for blood and queer love and wanting to 'live as she please', in defiance of social norms, and then the resulting intolerance and suppression of that, can be read as intertwined, which adds a whole different dimension regarding representation and treatment of queerness in fiction. (This is clearly not what Horikoshi was intending, but it happened.)

So her death, being used to have Deku comfort Uraraka over the failure of Heroes to save Toga and find a different path for people like her; used to explain how Uraraka was working a bit too much to have time for herself and her happiness due to her quirk counseling expansion (iirc; during the school visit part of 431); making that the reason for her not 'living as she please'; and finally pushing her towards fucking dating fucking Deku - it all feels very callous and using these serious worldbuilding issues as prop for the most boring mandatory heterosexual endgame ever + the pure insult of having a dead queer character to do this.

The thing is, while her dying is pretty bullshit, her death did not inherently have to be used for Deku/Ochako. It was the tragic end of Heroes being too late, Hero society abandoning children who didn't fit into social norms, her trying to die with some agency and dignity that the world will not be giving her even after Ochako go through to her, and then Ochako wishing to do something about this failure. As it is, it's self-contained, and Ochako's epilogue can have her dealing with this as her own thing, no needed romance element added to it.

But of course then the story used it to push a canon couple, so that it felt like Toga and her character and themes and arc was all set up for most boring mandatory heterosexual endgame ever. Or at least, it definitely reduced the impact because this significant tragedy ended up making something wonderful and hopeful (het dating).

Neji died, but imo, his arc and themes were a relatively minor part of Naruto, which ended up being about war and peace and space aliens. At the very least, it received a minor focus in the story. That sucks, but it didn't feel like something so important to the story's DNA was ultimately used as mandatory het endgame asspull.

Toga's plotline was one of the main plotlines - and essential to what My Hero Academia was trying to be about, re: saving. And so it did feel like something so interesting and important was used for a mandatory het endgame asspull that had barely any chemistry and didn't even make sense (Ochako felt like she can't have feelings for Deku because... why? Deku would have been receptive; her friends were excited for it; it wasn't interfering with their Hero work; literally no one was stopping her from acknowledging her feelings if she wanted to).

And that's just much more disappointing than Neji's death. imo.

(totally feel free to disagree with me; I barely remember how Neji's death went, and I know that there's arguments to be made about how the Hyuuga main/branch family stuff should've received more attention and serious engagement)

Thanks for the ask!