I finally finished reading the fourth volume of svsss in full, and thing is--the first time through I only read the bingqiu content because I was ravenous for more of their happy ending.
Turns out that was a perilous mistake.
Because I started reading the airplane extras. And I swear to god. MXTX is trying to kill me
What do you MEAN demon lord Binghe was sitting on his big fucking throne. All stoic and forbidding. Surrounded by his demon generals who don't know shit about human courtship. Asking them what he should do, fully demoralized by constant rejections from sqq, only to have airplane tell him to act more pathetic and needy. Which is already hysterically funny and insane, UNTIL LBH'S RESPONSE IS THIS, KILLING ME INSTANTLY:
LUO BINGHE. WHY DOES HE SAY IT LIKE: "I already tried that, didn't work--nothing works :/ not mean, not maidenly, not housewife, not spicy, not capable disciple. Is doubling down on clingy really all it will take? What's a born hater with only one love in his life to do????"
The dichotomy of him sitting there like 'how can I reach the unfathomable depths of shizun's heart?' A HEART HE'S ALREADY WON OVER, MIND and then in the Holy Mausoleum solving the puzzle without blinking and being like 'oh yeah you just have to hit the acupoints, no sweat.' Literally the comedy writes itself I'm so--
How am I supposed to be normal about this. MXTX understands the juicy quintessential queer joy of a person with the world's power at their fingertips wishing only for love. Willing to do anything to earn that love, when unbeknownst to them it's already been freely given. Totally not screaming and yelling and clawing at the walls
And that's not even touching airplane's uproarious account of events. The way he's like 'lol what's next, lbh and sqq are best friends now? smfh' only to see lbh TACKLE SQQ LOVINGLY. FOR SQQ TO BE BASHFUL ABOUT IT BUT SO SO FOND OF THE LITTLE SCAMP. This when we've been experiencing sqq's constant inner monologue of 'I'm so cool and so dignified about my role, truly the epitome of propriety and poser-level fortitude.' Meanwhile, in their universe:
Airplane constantly flaming???? Sqq and lbh in his observations????? His absolute bewilderment and confusion????? Legendary. No notes every single second of this shit was hilarious.
Airplane's comment that sqq + older adolescent lbh traveling together was just watching a couple in their honeymoon phase. OR the fact that lbh is exceedingly petty and refuses to share their food in the wake of airplane's interruption of their time together, until sqq relents sheepishly and insists airplane eat what's left (ONLY AFTER PLACATING LBH WITH MORE FOOD FROM HIS PLATE, SOBBING)
Watching airplane salivate over Mobei-Jun and acting like that's totally normal behavior. Finding out mbj and airplane got together first. Finding out sqq encouraged airplane. LIKE THIS. WHILE HE IS STILL IN DENIAL ABOUT HIS OWN FEELINGS:
Mobei-jun clearly thinking their arrangement is a forever thing, heartbroken his human abandoned him with all the hapless fury of a scorned wife swept away by false promises of fidelity. Airplane writing demons to be the type to beat up their crush lovingly and still unable to connect the dots about mbj's feelings. Mbj letting him go and respecting his wishes, only relenting when there's indication airplane was poorly processing his own feelings and didn't actually want to leave. Mbj caring for him and listening to him as soon as airplane voices what he needs directly and with clarity. None of these gays are functional and it's everything to me
Unrelated, but I physically can't hold this information in anymore:
I'm still reeling from younger lbh having his sexual awakening from the image of sqq wrapped in the immortal binding cables. Condemn me as you like he was so, so real for that.
And no I will not be taking any comments about how luo bingge couldn't bear to see luo binghe cherished in ways he never got to have and all the haunting implications of that. I will also not be taking any comments about luo binghe's instinct to look for sqq in that alternate universe, only to be shaken to the very core to be unable to find his shizun anywhere. The unspeakable and latent horror of his relentless mind likely piecing together what happened, but unable to say it; to suspect what is true, and live with the harrowing confusion of his double's actions. To blame himself, to assume that he had let his anger get the better of him in that world and result in unspeakable folly...
I also refuse to talk about how heartrending it is to hear Tianlang-jun weakly say "In the end, I really can't bring myself to hate humans." The implication that the foolishness of that hope and bright-eyed fondness--the very thing that put him through such unspeakable agony--couldn't be beaten out of him entirely. To discover that his faith in Su Xiyan hadn't been misplaced, to the contrary: his beloved hadn't scorned him at all, but rather fought to the miserable end to protect the fruition of their genuine feelings of love when she couldn't protect tlj or herself.
How MXTX has sqq deliberately draw parallels between their situation and that of ygy+sj and tlj+sx; desperately wishing it might not be too late for them. The concept of breaking cycles of abuse and harm pervasive throughout the newly devised story, how it evolves for the better only when love takes the place of power, pride, and domination. How the moment sqq chooses vulnerability instead of saving face, the genre shifts to the so-called "cringe" girly genre where most if not every character is more fulfilled, more true to themselves. How the "male-oriented" former genre was aimlessly sensationalized and sexualized, how it was a sustained performance of aspirational toxic masculinity. How men objectify other men without end. All of the unspoken gendered implications that come with that.
Anyways. Going to go put my head in a sandbox and try to process everything I just witnessed because even a second reading is not enough to find a modicum of closure.
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blind devotion
a team bolas oneshot. codebreakers-centric (philza and étoiles)
(read on ao3)
found family, ambiguous relationships, fluff
@apthotiosis tagging u because codebreakers heehee
“They’re not crow wings,” Jaiden remarks, tracing the sharp edges of the long feathers meant to catch on updrafts. “They’re too big. And you got extra bones and joints going on.” Phil hums, a hesitant eeeeeh with a twist of his hand. “There’s some crow in there. But most of it is actually—”
“Elytra!” Baghera quacks, awe lacing her voice as she croons over the white diamonds that appear beneath the grime and dust she’s cleaning out. “You’re part Elytrian, Philza?”
“Not exactly,” he laughs, pointing at the very human features on the rest of his body. “I’m not actually a hybrid. Not like Jaiden, or even like you. Those wings were a gift.”
Étoiles perks up. “From Kristin, yes?” he nails down, perceptive as ever. The rest of the flock oooohs, a little chorus of yes, of course, makes sense. “I like your wife, Phil,” the duck smiles, brushing out a crooked feather. She remembers the Goddess’s voice, soft and warm as late spring’s sunlight, pouring out of Phil’s mouth as she borrowed his body to greet them. “She’s so nice.”
“She’s awesome,” Étoiles nods, unseeing eyes reflecting invisible stars. He cannot see anymore, he’s told them, but he still fights like he can, somehow. “I see her, sometimes, when I don’t have enough sugar and I almost die. She tells me to take better care of myself, but I’m dumb and shit so it keeps happening.”
“T’es con,” Baghera chastises him, slapping the back of his head, and Philza snorts at their antics. He’s so glad Étoiles joined them, the memory of his expectant frame almost vibrating out of itself when the old crow-not-quite-a-crow approached him at Global, just the day before. The words had barely left his mouth and the warrior had dropped to his knees before him, like a worshipper before his deity made man. I am your arm, your sword, Étoiles had said to him once, long ago. Felt like long ago. Just tell me where to hit.
A wave of fond-flock-yesyes, the Angel of Death pulls Étoiles forward to shelter him within his wings. “Aaah, Philza, Phil,” Étoiles laughs as his friend pecks at his hair, crooning incessantly. “The goat, oh, he’s moving so good! So good aim!”
“No mames.”
“No maaaaames man.”
“Shut up dude,” Phil wheezes, a huge smile on his face as he runs his talons through the frenchman’s tangled, white-faded locks. Yesyes. “I’m having a moment.”
“Oh? He has a moment, okay. I fuck myself, I don’t move, I get it.”
“Oh my god, stop.”
“I want to see you fly,” Étoiles says, quieter. Almost a whisper, that has everyone tilt their head in focus. “I didn’t see you fly, that’s bullshit. It must be beautiful, to see.”
Phil flashes him a wry grin. “Maybe. They’re pretty fragile, still. I don’t want to fuck them up all over again. Pretty sure the Feds will just clip them once we get back anyway, so.”
“Fuck them!” Baghera screeches indignantly. “Not letting that happen. I kill them first.”
“It’s fine. Just gotta enjoy ‘em while I got ‘em.”
Étoiles pouts at that, mumbles something in rapid-fire French that sounds rude. Phil hums and cups his face with a low trill, talons rapping on the space between his skull and neck, feather-soft. His friend blinks, cloudy silver. “What do I look like to you?” Phil asks, feathers ruffling as he spreads his wings wide, his fellow avians shifting to avoid being smacked by them.
Étoiles smiles, all teeth and greenish gums. “Like home,” he says, and it’s such a silly yet earnest answer that Phil could kiss him into silence. Mine, his hindbrain thrums, fierce possessiveness curling around his heart, and Étoiles laughs, that airy, high-pitched wheeze of his, because he’s making bird noises again. “And he says, he says he’s no hybrid, this man?” he mocks, tackling Philza to the cold floor of their cave to wrestle him into submission. “He’s a liar! Lies! You know who you are, Felipe Minecraft! Embrace it!”
“I am- fuck, get off,” Philza growls, play? play? Swoops Étoiles’ legs from under him to pin him down and they’re both laughing, batting at each other’s faces, talons carefully curled inward to not slice at dark green skin. Baghera and Jaiden cheer them on from the sidelines, loose feathers flying here and there, a viney tail wrapping itself around his leg as they roll and swipe and snap their teeth at each other’s necks, play, play!
Étoiles loses at some point, freezes when sharp claws brush against his jugular. “Oh, he’s too good,” he smiles, tired and fond. “He’s good, and I’m shit. GGs.”
“Don’t say that,” Phil rolls his eyes, but doesn’t draw away. Étoiles’ eyes are squinted in twin crescent moons, and he doesn’t know if he wants to pluck them out to wear like jewellery or forget himself in them. “You. Are the best,” he chirps, pressing his forehead against the other man’s, flock, mine. hello. “I chose you. And I only choose the best for my family.”
“That’s us,” Baghera gasps — she and Jaiden have taken to preening each other instead, her bill ruffling through dark blue and green to dislodge specks of dried blood and sand out of her flockmate’s wings. “Bolas family, yes!”
“You picked Roier first,” the warrior whines, hands pawing at Phil’s chest, not quite pushing him away. “You like him better, no? He’s better, stronger. I don’t blame you.”
“Cellbit wanted him. I wanted to make him happy.”
“Oh, he is,” Jaiden huffs. “They’ve been snogging in the nest all evening. It’s cute and all, but I can only take so much kissing noises until I gotta vomit.”
“Hater!” her sister teases, bonking her bill against her cheek. “You’re just a little hater, let them be gay and happy.”
“They can be gay and happy and not slobber over each other.”
“I kinda like it,” Slime pipes up from his hole in the ground. Jaiden quirks an eyebrow at him. “...You need to get over Cellbit, dude.”
“Whaaaaat? You’re talkin’ nonsense. Put your mask back on, the fumes got to you.”
“Don’t you have Mariana anyway?”
“I don’t see your point.”
“Roier is Roier,” Phil cuts them off, catching Étoiles’ wrists to push them down against the stone. Mine. “You’re you. Cellbit wanted him, I wanted you. Simple.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh.” A croon, their noses brush together. Jaiden makes a gagging sound, which makes Baghera cackle. What am I doing? “Phil?” He blinks. His friend is looking up at him, eyes crinkled up in amusement, fang poking out from beneath his upper lip. “I’m already yours. You don’t need to go all birdbrain on me.”
“Sorry.”
“Nah. Don’t be sorry, be the GOAT that you are.” Étoiles pushes himself up, and Philza lets him. He tilts his head to the side, like he always does whenever he’s mapping out his surroundings. “Phil, Phil,” he nudges at the crow’s shoulder, vine-tail thumping against the ground in renewed vigot. “PvP check, yes? Sticks?”
“Bruh.”
“Come oooon.”
“We’re actually ahead today, let’s not die and mess it up.”
“Rhoooooo…”
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How to Tell Noise Artists Apart
Merzbow: Nothing makes sense, yet *everything* makes sense.
Masonna: Screaming about Vaginas or something idek
Whitehouse: Edgy dads yelling about fucked up sex over WASP drones
Consumer Electronics: When the Mr. is tired of telling you how worthless you are, the Mrs. will finish the job. (Update: Not anymore!)
Hijokaidan: Music so loud you have to piss on stage to enjoy it.
The Gerogerigegege: ????????????????? vacuum cleaner sex ????????????????????????
Suckdog: This is a big, beautiful fucking mess made by two wild girls and a cassette recorder.
Master/Slave Relationship: Sounds like something you would hear playing in a grimy torture chamber.
Hanatarash: OH GOD EVERYTHING IS BEING BULLDOZED GET ME OUT OF HERE
The Haters: OH GOD EVERYTHING IS ON FIRE GET ME OUT OF HERE
Ramleh: Songs are lush and ambient; you almost forget this is a noise project
Sutcliffe Jugend: Surprisingly melodic songs about serial killers and Nazis.
Genocide Organ: This might be about Nazis. I don’t know. The beats slap regardless.
Haus Arafna: This is definitely about Nazis, but like, how awful they were. The synth lead slaps so fucking hard regardless.
Brighter Death Now: You’re wincing the entire time you’re hearing the lyrics.
Deathpile: Every song is about a serial killer; every word is barked out like an angry, scornful god
Atrax Morgue: Paraphilia time! What turns me on? Everything! What makes me want to die? Everything!
The Rita: OUCH MY EARS OUCH MY BRAIN OUCH OUCH OUCH
Wolf Eyes: They look like garage rock dads but sound like a freight train derailing in a village full of small children.
Aaron Dilloway: Sounds like warped cassette tapes haunted by all the ghosts in a city morgue
Prurient: I am TINY and I am HORNY and I am ANGRY ABOUT BEING TINY AND HORNY.
Alberich: You're dancing to the beats but feeling slightly uneasy over the guy in sunglasses and a trench coat screaming at you.
Justice Yeldham: There’s probably blood spatter on whatever you ordered, and that adds extra “oomph” to the audio.
Dreamcrusher: GENDER IS OVER AND I’M GOING TO SCREAM ABOUT IT UNTIL YOU ACCEPT IT
Puce Mary: Movie soundtrack samples with poems about sex and/or death.
Croatian Amor: Pretty sure this guy wasn’t hugged enough as a child.
Author & Punisher: Okay, this is really fucking cool. Look at all those homemade instruments. Listen to that super melodic hook. Damn son.
Pharmakon: Loud noises, even louder screeching, every song is about bodies falling apart.
Trepaneringsritualen: Pagan lyrics growled out by a man that looks like an actual real Viking
Moor Mother: Hip Hop and noise had a baby and it’s full of justifiable rage
Lingua Ignota: She’s singing in Latin, she’s making weird faces, OH GOD THIS IS TERRIFYING, OH GOD wait a minute never mind she’s playing banjo now
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