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skiyoosmi · 3 years

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post-break up heartaches

verse 1. in the car that used to drive us to our home

⤷ kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru — more characters coming soon

⤷ verse 2 | verse 3

⤷ play. never let me go by ghostly kisses, forget about us by clinton kane

commissions: open

⇢ KUROO sighs for the umpteenth time of the day. he was so fucking exhausted and his body's about to give in to sleep any moment now. work has been beating his ass; there was this newbie who kept on messing up the documents needed by the board and for the whole day, he had to be the one to fix said issues. it's not like he wasn't paid enough for that; if anything, his paycheck was one of the most beautiful things he laid his eyes on— but god, even his body has its own limits and yet...

"ya.... yer not supposed to do this anymore. y-ya left me, remember?" you slurred, index finger pointing right at his chest as he circled his arms around your waist, huffing as you practically dropped all your weight on him. here he was, suddenly given the task of having to take you home after your supposed-to-be designated driver, miya fucking atsumu, also drank his brains out with you.

"be patient. still heartbroken because of you, y'know?" kenma softly tells him despite the tipsy feeling lurking in the back of his mind, shaking his head as he looked at you, whose system finally shut down and were now dozing off in the black haired man's arms.

"..... still?" he mumbles, looking down at your figure and he feels his heart contract with pain all over again.

"you can't expect her to be fine immediately, kuroo. it was your wedding day, supposed to be the greatest day of her life and yet it became the worst one... you left her at the altar alone."

he didn't reply anything— or rather, he was unable to. because what can he say to refute the truth? nothing. instead, he proceeded to his car with you still in his hold. he places you on the passenger seat, locking the seatbelts before jogging to the driver's side.

the car ride was calm as you slept soundly with your head occasionally hitting the window lightly as it swayed from side to side. he was sure as hell that if you were sober right now, you wouldn't even have the thought of seeing him cross your mind. he just knows for sure that you despise him with your whole being... at least, that's what he thought until...

"i'm sorry, tetsu. please come back," you whimper in your seat, voice quiet but he heard it nonetheless, "tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it."

the pitiful sounds and mumbles you made struck kuroo right in the heart and which makes him pull over an empty but safe road, just a block away from your (previously shared) apartment. looking over your form, he finds himself reaching out to touch your face, caressing your cheeks as drops of tears fell down slowly on them, "you didn't do anything wrong. you were fine. you were so perfect."

you squint your eyes at him, probably wondering if this was real or just a part of your drunken imagination. nonetheless, you hiccuped, "y-you... you left me and i... i still can't even bring myself to hate you... i just wanna ask you why? i just want to understand."

he thought he also knew the reason why but every single time he thinks about it, he's only led to one conclusion: because he was a coward. no way was this any of your fault— it's definitely not your fault that right at that moment, as he stared at the mirror, wearing the black suit you chose for him, the sudden fear of commitment loomed over him. it's not like it was your fault he suddenly got scared of losing you the way his parents lost each other. but now he thinks it's ironic, because he lost you anyway.

maybe... just maybe, if he had just met you where you stood at the altar, instead of leaving you alone in it, maybe he would've been happier. maybe his days would've started more with a smile from you as you helped him fix his necktie before going to work. maybe, the working hours he spends in the shitty corporate world would've been more worth it if it meant he can come home to you at the end of the day. maybe... maybe he wouldn't have to be stuck with this lump in his throat as he wonders what could've been happening if he just chose to show up and vowed his life to you.

but he didn't.

"i realized i wasn't just ready to tie my life with anyone yet. that's all there is to it, yn."

so with a heavy feeling stuck in his chest and a quiet promise to never see you again for the sake of not hurting you further, he starts the car's engine again, ignoring the words you replied but he was sure they will haunt him for a very long time... again.

i can wait for you no matter how long it takes, tetsu, you know that.

⇢ OIKAWA gives you what seems like a guilty smile as he stands in front of you, opening his arms and gesturing you to come closer. but the stoic expression on your face takes him back to the reality that the last thing you wanted to do today was to actually fetch him from the airport. it just so happens that his three best friends were caught up with work that they had no choice but to send you, the main ex-bestfriend slash ex-girlfriend, to him.

why did you agree when you practically loathe him with your whole being? well, it was probably because you weren't the devil who would reject your friends when they were literally on their knees as they begged you and for some reason, you thought he'll look pitiful going back to his home country after five years with no one to welcome him. yeah, that's it. it's not like you're still in love with him or anything.

"my car's just around the corner," you begrudgingly walk towards the car park with him quietly following. at the moment, he knew better than to get on your nerves or else there would be war. he hates that this happened to the both of you but he can't blame anyone else but himself. because who wouldn't hate their ex-boyfriend if they suddenly broke up with them over a phone call?

tension filled the car as you both sat beside each other. perhaps, this was what other people were talking about when they say that it's impossible for exes to be friends again, to not feel any awkwardness because you were sure as hell that the word "awkward" was an understatement of your situation right now. nevertheless, your eyes couldn't help but wander to his figure as he adjusted his body, opting for a more comfortable position in the passenger's seat.

he looked more youthful and you felt bittersweet— proud that his whole aura screams of "success" which meant that gone were the days where he longed to get that winter cup trophy, nor the times when he overworked himself and put a strain on his knee which led to countless arguments with you. if anything, he looked happier and it sucks because you're not even close to feeling that way... not without him.

"i heard you've finally gotten yourself your own condominium? that's great, yn!" he exclaimed as soon as you began driving to your destination, a hope lit within him that maybe you might just respond to him. just one smile, that's all i need, he thinks.

but you remain focused on your driving, choosing to reply with a single nod and a soft "yeah..."

disappointment fills his heart as he faces the truth that your relationship has really been ruined, along with your friendship. all because he was foolish to think that he couldn't handle the physical distance between you two. realization dawns upon him that he just made that same distance worse as you pull your heart further away from him.

"... i actually bought it for the two of us, you know?" he whips his head to your direction in surprise, heart clenching as he watch you let out a sad chuckle, "i just... i thought it would be nice if we had a place to permanently stay at and for you to have a home to go to when you're at japan. but yeah... i guess things doesn't go our way sometimes, does it?"

"i'm sor—"

"it's okay. i'm fine now," you quickly reply, shaking your head but keeping your eyes on the road. he tries to ignore the tears that start to form in them because he has no right to stop them, knowing full well that he was the one who caused them in the first place.

as if on cue, you halt your vehicle in front of a familiar apartment and much to your dismay, you find yourself looking back in the past when you used to live in that same place, making wonderful memories with the chocolate haired lad with you. you clear your throat to stop the sob that desperately attempts to escape your throat, "uhm... we're here."

"oh, yeah. we're here," he numbly states, already missing you despite the mere inches of space separating the two of you. you just felt so far away and he hates it. but this was the path he chose so he gets out of your car along with his things, turning to you once more, "uhh... thanks for the ride, yn. i know you probably hate me but yeah... it's very nice of you to put that past us and i guess i just want to say sorry for hurting you... i just..."

"i don't hate you, tooru," you softly tell him, "i just don't want anything to do with you anymore. to see you this happy, without me, is like a slap in the face because i'm not. it still hurts and i'm not fine. i just hope this will be the last time we'll see each other. be safe on your trip back to argentina. welcome home."

and with that, you start the car's engine again, no longer having the energy nor the strength to hear his reply. but he wishes you did because as he watches your car drive further away from him, he can't help but wish that he can take back time so that you don't have to go to that condominium and instead, go inside the home you once shared with him.

but i'm not happy, yn. because how could i call this place my home when you're not here with me?

at that moment, unbeknownst to the two hearts that long for each other break at the same time, you finally let out the tears and cries that you've been keeping since you saw him, knowing that no matter how much you try, you'll never be as happy as you were with him— simply because he left you with a hole in your heart that no one else can fill.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo x reader #oikawa x reader #kuroo headcanons #oikawa headcanons #haikyuu writings #haikyuu angst #kuroo tetsurou #oikawa tooru #haikyuu imagines #post break-up heartaches

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taexual · 4 years

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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (16)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst

words: 6.6k

chapter sixteen

Despite deciding not to make your already uncomfortable situation even more awkward by discussing your kiss, Jungkook could not stop thinking about it the entire drive back to your dormitory. Actually, he’d been thinking about the kiss nearly every moment since it happened, but with you in the car next to him, his thoughts became clearer. More defined. More vibrant.

If he’d have closed his eyes – not a good idea for someone who was behind the wheel of a car; but it wasn’t like Jungkook was above entertaining bad ideas – he swore he could return to that moment when he had you underneath him on his bed, your mouth against his, right before his mother knocked on the door and interrupted you.

What would have happened if she hadn’t knocked?

“You okay?” you asked suddenly, the question startling him.

“Hmm?” he nearly swerved off the road, answering you in a high-pitched voice, “yeah. Why?”

“You just inhaled really—nevermind,” you changed your mind – it was better to stay quiet all the way home. But, aware how weird your question seemed without any explanations, you mumbled under your breath, “thought you were suffocating or something.”

Jungkook hadn’t realized his breath got caught in his throat every time he remembered kissing you, but it made sense; his body needed to give up every other activity—no matter how crucial for his survival it was—in order to make enough space in his mind to fully immerse itself into the memory.

The memory was so important to him because, based on the way you shifted closer to the door and further away from him in his car, he could tell that even the lingering possibility of bringing the kiss up made you close off. So the chance of it happening again – him, getting you to lower your guards down enough to allow another kiss – was so slim, it was incredible he hadn’t given up yet.

“So, I take it you won’t make it to my gig this Friday, then,” Jungkook said when he entered the campus, nodding at the barrier guard through his window before turning to look at you to show you that, no, he wasn’t going to try to get you to talk about last weekend, but also, no, he wasn’t going to completely let this go, either.

“No,” you said with a quick glance his way, the barbecue at his father’s company written in red letters in your mental itinerary. “Not this Friday. Sorry.”

He thought this over – “this” Friday meant that next Friday still had an opening. He liked these odds.

“Text me if my dad gets too crazy, yeah?” Jungkook asked as he pulled into the parking lot of your dormitory. “I’ll make sure to reply with tips on how to get him to leave you alone.”

“No, you’ll be in the middle of your performance,” you said – expressing your appreciation for his concern by giving him a warm smile – and then dismissed him with a wave of your hand, “I’ll find a way to handle it.”

Stopping the car right in front of the entrance – but not shutting the engine off which was, both, terrible for the environment and also not a very smart idea socially, considering that people were already watching your every step, and they were absolutely going to hear Jungkook’s car – he turned to look at you with a very determined expression on his face.

“If you don’t think I can find a way to include answering texts in my set list, I have news for you,” he said and you thought he was joking – just being reassuring – but the look in his eyes told a different story.

Your smile widened despite your protests. “Alright, noted. But don’t worry about me. Just let me know when you’re done with your gig.”

Jungkook – who’d never had to report his whereabouts to anyone before – found himself nodding eagerly.

“You too,” he said. “I mean, text me when that whole social gathering is over. I can drive over there to take you home.”

“No,” you protested again, “you have an after-party to get to. I’ll make my own way home. Don’t worry—”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he countered, using your own argument against you, “I will come get you out of there early if you’ll need me to. No matter what I’m doing.”

The look on his face was resolute and, for a moment, you considered that perhaps this was his way of showing you that he didn’t want you to go to the company barbecue at all – especially not when he couldn’t be there to supervise and make sure the real story of your relationship remained well hidden behind the tale you’d created for his parents – but then, Jungkook looked down and refuted these thoughts.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said. “My dad already had that look on his face – the scowl he saved for me only – because he’d been expecting me to refuse to come all along, but then you… well, you softened the blow.”

“I didn’t soften it much if he still looked at you like that,” you said, lowering your eyes just as Jungkook raised his.

“No, you did. I’d have gone home, thinking—no, knowing—that I’d let him down yet again,” he said, “and that often has interesting consequences—”

You raised your eyebrows. “That’s one way to put it.”

“Right. But now I get to go home and worry about you being there alone with my family and their colleagues, so that gives me something else to occupy myself with.”

You could have insisted that you weren’t a damsel in distress and could figure out your own way out of a tricky situation if you had to, but you chose to let him have this one. If thinking about this kept him out of trouble while you were out of campus and, possibly, unable to reach him in time, then so be it.

“That’s hardly a better way to spend your time, but if that’s what you’re into these days…” you replied with humor and Jungkook – who could tell that you were only saying this so you’d stop going back and forth with him – forced himself to smile.

“You’re rubbing off on me,” he said. “I’m starting to develop this need to constantly be in control of everything.”

Your mouth opened in genuine surprise and then – almost comically – opened wider still, when you decided to add a more dramatic effect to your reaction, so you could conceal the fact that the portrayal of you, as a control freak, had honestly upset you.

But you couldn’t express your feelings out loud because, admittedly, he was right, you did like to be in control of your surroundings. Shamelessly so, too, because you didn’t think it was wrong to know about everything that involved you.

“That’s not good,” you said. “We can’t both be in control. We’ll clash.”

“If we do, I hope it will be as epic as Harry versus Voldemort.”

You snickered at this, the tension in your shoulders lightening. “I take it you’re Voldemort?”

Jungkook looked positively outraged by this assumption. “Of course not! I’m The Chosen One.”

Now you were full-on laughing. And The Chosen One – who, technically, could have actually been called The Boy Who Lived after all the life-threatening stunts he’d pulled since starting puberty – smiled, beyond proud of himself.

Smiling at each other for several seconds – that could have been minutes or even hours for all you cared; it only felt like one blink of an eye to you anyway – you felt your chest fill with affection. That tended to happen sometimes, especially when you’d been dreading a situation – The Talk About the Sunday Night Kiss – and then managed to successfully make it out alive – by using a method, commonly referred to as, Staying Quiet and Changing the Topic.

“I meant what I said, though,” you spoke and the relief that you didn’t have to endure the awkward ‘so… what do we do now?’ question washed over you with a warm wave. “I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

You had leaned closer him as you said this – it was a natural instinct: reaching out to touch someone’s hand (or, uh-oh, cheek!) for more effect – but you froze mid-way, hanging awkwardly over the console of his car and regretting your very existence because you’d noticed how Jungkook stopped breathing when you moved closer, and how quickly his breathing returned to him – in the form of a disappointed huff – when you suddenly stopped.

“Thank you for taking me to the meeting today,” you ended up blurting as you pulled back, your eyes now firmly locked on the handle of the door.

“Yeah. It’s nothing,” he replied and, somehow, that was it.

The eternity you always spent in his car when he dropped you off in front of your dormitory had suddenly come to an end and, because of how weird it was to leave without saying goodbye – but, then again, were you supposed to hug? Kiss? – your hand lingered on the handle numbly, only pushing the door open a minute later.

Paradoxically, relief and concern both flooded your brain as soon as you stepped one foot outside but then, before you could exit his car, you felt him take hold of your wrist – not pulling you back per se, but holding onto you firmly enough to stop you from moving.

“Hey,” Jungkook said. You were mid-step, so you had to fully exit the car and lean down to look at him.

“Hmm?” you asked, your wrist still in his grip even though he had successfully captured your attention.

“D-don’t…” he tried to say, mumbling the rest of the words under his breath. You frowned, not hearing him, and were about to lean forward to ask what he’d said, when he cleared his throat and tried again, “let’s not be weird around each other, okay? We know each other far too long for that.”

Your plan to keep your mouth shut and divert his attention to different topics had, clearly, only succeeded in part, because Jungkook was addressing last Sunday night, after all, but he didn’t dare to bring the kiss up directly. And his acknowledgement of the fact that you were too stuck in your own head to let him talk to you about the kiss specifically, made it all worse.

“Yeah,” you said then. “I wouldn’t want things to suddenly be weird between us.”

“So, let’s not make it weird,” he said, nodding and reluctantly letting go of your hand. “Don’t forget to text me tomorrow.”

“I won’t,” you pulled your hand back and, with one last smile – that looked forced, uncomfortable and weird; all the things you didn’t want it to look like – you walked away from his car and back to your dorm, ready for Inna’s tirade of questions. Questions that you had no answers to.

What surprised you about the company barbecue on Friday afternoon wasn’t the fact that Inna hadn’t demanded to know all the details of the event when you told her where you’d be going, or the fact that all of the people you’d seen at the bi-yearly meeting on Thursday, were now dressed in red aprons like your friendly neighborhood dads.

It was the fact that Namjoon, of all people, was dressed like one of those dads, too.

“Hey!” you exclaimed, evidently shocked to run into him here. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Oh, hi!” Namjoon seemed just as surprised but he shook your hand – which was his go-to way of saying hello to people, as you’ve learned – and smiled, explaining, “I’m interning here, actually. What about you?”

You were thrown off balance by your surprise – the two of you had talked about your plans for the future before, sharing your ambitions with each other, and yet you didn’t know that he was an intern here – but recovered a moment later to explain yourself.

“Oh, I’m—the CEO is an old family friend, so I’m here as a courtesy of sorts,” you said, feeling self-conscious when you saw Namjoon raise his eyebrows after he learned about this connection. “I was supposed to come earlier to help you set up but my roommate was leaving for the weekend, and she—well, anyway. I’m only here to get acquainted with the company, really.”

Contrary to what you’d expected him to ask you next, Namjoon wondered, “do you see yourself here in the future?”

Even though he didn’t inquire about your biography outright – “were your parents powerful and influential businessmen as well?” – his question did seem to insinuate that you may start working here purely because of your relationship to the head of the company.

“Maybe,” you replied, realizing how privileged you were to be here when you weren’t even a part of the company yet. “What has it been like, interning here?”

“Oh, it’s been okay. It’s the only company that took me in,” he spoke and you felt yourself exhale in relief after you lost the spotlight. “The others weren’t looking for interns. Or they needed interns with a job experience that spanned more than my college career.”

You scoffed, understanding what he meant very well because you’d been there, too. “How does that make sense?”

“It doesn’t,” Namjoon said with a sigh. “And that’s why I’m here.”

“So, this wasn’t your first choice?” you asked.

“No, but I don’t regret coming here,” he replied. “It’s a nice work environment. The people are very welcoming and helpful, which isn’t something you see a lot of in corporate businesses.”

Sadly, some of the people here weren’t very welcoming in their personal lives, you thought bitterly, remembering Jungkook and his father’s tense relationship. You chose not to mention that, however, because it didn’t seem like the right thing to do.

“I hope you’re not here for work, though,” you said instead, smiling as you watched Namjoon laugh awkwardly and nod at the beef patties on a plate next to the grill.

“No,” he said. “But they did put me on grilling duty – which wasn’t very smart of them, considering how terrible I am around things that can burst into flames – so I do have some hefty responsibilities today.”

You chuckled. “I could help you. I’ve done my fair share of barbecuing when I was growing up. Let me just leave my handbag somewhere—”

“The gazebo over there,” Namjoon pointed at the far end of the camping grounds, “they’ve turned it into a coat room. You could leave it there,” he looked at you and, catching his own eagerness, explained, “I would really appreciate your help. I don’t want my internship to end prematurely because I’d poisoned everyone with my poor cooking.”

Giving him a sympathetic grin, you assured him, “that won’t happen. At least, not on my watch. I’ll be right back!”

As you’d learned once you got back to the grill and started to assist Namjoon – or, allowed him to assist you – Jungkook’s father hadn’t even arrived yet. Him and his wife – according to a very chatty woman who was Namjoon’s supervisor – were supposed to come a little while later and then, following tradition, they would take a picture with the rest of the employees, sit down for a meal, and leave within an hour.

This barbecue may have been a nice social gathering for the employees of his company, but it was strictly a formality for Jungkook’s father.

“Still, it’s nice,” Namjoon said once the woman left you two to finish grilling the sausages and the patties alone, “not many CEOs bother to interact with the lower-rank employees at company events. At least, not in my experience. My dad didn’t even know what his boss looked like and he’d worked for the same company for twenty years.”

“It sounds impossible in today’s day and age, though, with everyone being on social media,” you pointed out.

“Of course. But you don’t always recognize people from social media in real life. So, it’s nice that even I, an intern, have a chance to see the CEO of the company with my own eyes. And maybe even meet him.”

“Hmm, sure,” you nodded with an unconcerned shrug. “It is nice of him, I suppose.”

Namjoon noticed your nonchalance and he knew that the reason why you couldn’t relate to him in this particular situation was because you had nothing to get excited about – you had already met the CEO.

“You said he was a family friend?” Namjoon asked you. “So, you know him quite well, then?”

You paused grilling for a second to look at him but he was watching the food to make sure it didn’t burn. And that was even better, since it gave you more time to come up with an abridged version of your relationship with Jungkook’s father.

“Yeah, uh… my mom and his wife had been best friends growing up,” you said, “and they’re still very close to this day. Now that they’re both married, their families got involved in the friendship, too. He’s always been kind to me but my knowledge of him comes from Jungkook’s point of view, so I’m probably—”

Namjoon finally looked away from the sizzling grill to get you to back up. “Wait, Jungkook?”

“Yeah, we—” you paused, realizing that he wasn’t confused about your friendship with Jungkook but, rather, about Jungkook, being the son – and the heir apparent – of the CEO. “The company—i-it belongs to Jungkook’s father.”

“Oh,” Namjoon mumbled, looking away as this revelation rendered him speechless for a quick minute. “Oh.”

You didn’t know what to make of this “oh”, so you tried to clear the air with a chuckle.

“I, uh—I had thought that was common knowledge on campus,” you said.

“I—maybe it is, I don’t really keep up w-with that,” he admitted. “I just assumed he was popular because of Parental Advisory.”

“He is,” you nodded, “but coming from a rich family probably didn’t hinder his way to the top very much.”

“No,” he snickered, “it probably didn’t. So, uh, is he coming here, too?”

You had picked up a pair of tongs from the folding table nearby and used them to flip the patties before you answered. That was why you didn’t notice how much Namjoon struggled to process this new information. You couldn’t ask him what was it about Jungkook that caused Namjoon to have such a hard time dealing with this news.

“No,” you said, still not looking at him as you focused on the grill. “He’s got a show tonight.”

“Ah, so his band comes first,” Namjoon said in a voice that would have been humorous—in a sarcastic way—if it wasn’t so acidic.

You stopped what you were doing to give the boy next to you a surprised look.

“Well—not necessarily,” you said and then tried to find a way to explain why Jungkook was the way he was without getting into too many unnecessary and overly-complicated details, “he cares about both, but he’s not—he’s got, uh, some issues with—”

“With being civil in front of his father’s employees?” Namjoon interjected sharply.

You blinked. “He—”

“God, sorry,” he blurted suddenly, putting the metal spatula down on the grill before realizing that this wasn’t a good idea and picking it back up again. He sounded exasperated as he tried to take his previous question back, “I don’t know why I’m coming off so angry about this. I was just surprised. I did hear that the CEO had a son who was presumably going to take over the company one day, but I didn’t think it was… you know.”

You didn’t know, but you could guess that Jungkook’s bad reputation preceded him and even people, who claimed not to judge others without getting to know them first, couldn’t help but judge first.

Namjoon sounded disappointed when he talked about him. Worse, he sounded displeased and even choked as he spoke, trying to cover up his own frustration so he could remain impeccably respectful like he always was – or tried to be.

He tried to avoid stereotypes but you’d gotten glimpses of his real attitude at the library when he’d revealed his assumptions about the members of Parental Advisory, guessing – and getting it right – that the members were a “troubled bunch”.

You’d admired his restraint from any further assumptions that could have shown his prejudice. But now his respectfulness irked you because it hid his real feelings and made it almost impossible for you to defend Jungkook without sounding like you were overreacting.

“There’s still a long way before Jungkook can take over,” you said, focusing on the tongs in your hands and the way they clapped with a metallic yelp each time you clicked them together. “He’s working on it and his father definitely isn’t cutting him any slack just because he’s his son.”

“Right, I wasn’t—”

“But you probably know that if you work here,” you continued, yours words coming out in a batch of agitation that Namjoon could not interrupt, “there aren’t any exclusive employees here. Everyone is being treated the same, regardless of their connection to the staff higher up.”

“No, of course!” he exclaimed before you could continue. “I didn’t mean to imply—although, I guess I did imply that he had certain guarantees that other people didn’t, which is true, of course, with him being the son of the CEO. But I didn’t mean to make it sound like he wouldn’t deserve the chief executive position. I’m sure his father wouldn’t give it to him if he didn’t think Jungkook was worth it.”

“Yeah,” you said, swallowing hard. “He wouldn’t.”

Namjoon wasn’t going to say anything else about this – he’d already said too much – but the way you went straight for his throat when he misspoke about Jungkook, shed a new light on your relationship with him. It intrigued Namjoon even if he wasn’t fascinated by you in a romantic sense.

His interest in your relationship with Jungkook was mostly understandable, though – the two of you were so different on the surface, one could only wonder what was it that attracted you to each other.

Well, apparently, there were depths to the reckless lead vocalist of the campus band that Namjoon didn’t know about.

“I’ve heard he treats everyone here like family,” Namjoon said, trying to make his voice sound light as he shifted the topic from the son to the father.

“I’ve heard that, too,” you agreed, your voice still on edge. “The man has a great reputation around here.”

“He’s sort of living up to it, too,” Namjoon said and you saw him nod in the direction of the road that ran along the north side of the camping grounds.

You turned your head to see Jungkook’s father step out of his car, with his wife following after, from the other side. He shook hands with the few people who came to greet him.

He had a wide smile on his face – a smile that you couldn’t remember seeing in a very long time, but now that you did, you realized how similar him and Jungkook were: both of them seemed to lose ten years of their age when they smiled.

“He kind of looks like he’s running a presidential campaign,” you said, observing the scene as Jungkook’s father greeted his employees – some with a good-natured hug, others with a wave.

Namjoon glanced at you and, relieved to see that your mind was no longer lingering on your previous conversation, laughed. “Maybe a bit, yeah.”

Within moments of Jungkook’s father’s arrival, the campgrounds were in an uproar: everyone was busy grilling their last bits of food and arranging it in a way that would look the most appetizing.

The plate of food you and Namjoon had grilled definitely wasn’t the easiest on the eyes, but none of the food seemed under-cooked or burned, so both of you were content with that.

Then, just as you were about to pick the food up and carry it over to the structure tent in the center of the grounds, you were reminded that time for dinner hadn’t arrived yet.

The traditional picture had to come first.

You felt a lot like you did on picture day back at school – with one of the employees ordering everyone around, demanding they squat, scooch closer, smile wider, turn their heads, and move to the back because their clothing is too flashy – and that was what you told Namjoon when the two of you found yourselves standing side-by-side in front of the camera, very close to Jungkook’s father himself.

“I think it’s worse than it was at school,” Namjoon whispered back, glancing at the other employees and their wide smiles, “but, at least, we don’t have to wear uniforms.”

You scoffed. “Yes. Wearing dark red aprons is better.”

“This awful color makes us all more united,” he said, looking over your shoulder and accidentally meeting the eye of his CEO, who was making sure you weren’t standing too far from him, because he considered you to be his guest and, therefore, he had to make sure you received the best treatment. Namjoon figured as much, as he cleared his throat and straightened his posture.

Finally, the photographer – or, actually, the Head of Human Resources with his new Samsung – took the picture, making sure the flash blinded each and every single person posing for him. And then he took another picture. And then another one. And then a few more for good measure.

You thought you’d blinked in all of them but you hoped to never see those pictures anyway. They probably hung them up in the lobby to remind everyone who went into the building that this was a very friendly environment to work in, but the actual employees never really looked at the pictures.

It was almost funny how wrong you were about that.

“Such a pleasure to see you here,” Jungkook’s father said, approaching you as soon as the people broke apart from their designated positions and pretended to mingle while, really, they waited for the director to finish talking and lead them to the main tent for dinner.

“Thank you very much for inviting me,” you said, aware of everyone’s eyes on you as you exchanged a polite and obligatory hug. “It’s a very nice place here.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” he nodded and then, much to your relief, pointed at the tent. “Let’s go have some food, shall we? I’d been saving up my stomach the whole day for this.”

You chuckled and walked next to him towards the plastic table, filled to the brim with various plates of food. There was far too much grilled meat here – it was impossible for everyone to eat it all, no matter how many people were here – but that only seemed to please the CEO.

“Would you like to take a look at the pictures, sir?” the Head of HR approached Jungkook’s father after he noticed that your conversation had ceased.

Based on how carefully he held the treasured Samsung in his hands, you figured that, either the phone had cost several million dollars, or the man was genuinely terrified of Jungkook’s father – which wasn’t unlikely, as you very well knew.

“Oh, of course, of course,” Jungkook’s father said, always so pleasant, and then stopped to take a look at the phone. You weren’t sure if you should have kept walking or stopped as well. And then he solved the dilemma for you by addressing you, “I’m going to forward the picture to Jungkook so he knows what he’s missing.”

“Oh, yes, that’s a great idea,” you said, smiling, even though you knew Jungkook probably wasn’t even going to open the picture.

Funnily enough, you were wrong about that, too.

While you and Jungkook’s father joined the rest of his employees for the barbecue, Jungkook was finishing soundcheck with his bandmates. He checked his phone – like he did after each song – and rolled his eyes when he saw a text from his father instead of from you.

He opened it, though.

He didn’t care much for what his father said – but he had to admit, he’d never seen his father use the winky face emoji before, so that threw him off – but his eyes caught the picture he’d attached and Jungkook pressed on it without a moment’s hesitation.

Skimming over the bright smiles of his father’s employees, he scanned the picture, looking for you.

And he found you.

But not before he found Namjoon standing right next to you.

Much to your surprise, talking to the other employees – even despite the age gap – proved to be a lot of fun. Some of the older ones actually remembered you from when you were little; they recalled you and Jungkook holding onto Jungkook’s mother’s dress as she brought you two along when she came to visit her husband at the company. And the younger employees curiously absorbed everything you told them about your experience at university, sharing their own life stories with you in return.

Because you found yourself having a good time here, you only remembered that you’d left your phone in your handbag – which was across the camping grounds, tucked away in the lonely wooden gazebo – when Jungkook’s father – who was still here, much to everyone’s surprise – decided it was time to pop the champagne.

You excused yourself from the table, promising to return soon because you only meant to retrieve your phone so you could check the time and maybe check in with Jungkook in case his show was over by now.

That was not what ended up happening when you located your handbag under the various expensive jackets that were haphazardly thrown on the bench in the gazebo.

You pulled your phone out to see several missed calls.

None of those missed calls were from Jungkook. In fact, the majority of them came from Inna, which was already weird enough since she’d left campus again this weekend and she never called you. You always texted.

But what truly confused you were the last two missed calls because they were from Yoongi, Jungkook’s bandmate. You’d only talked to Yoongi on the phone once, when you were attempting to get in touch with Jungkook after he missed dinner at his parents’ place, but Yoongi was high back then so you didn’t think he even remembered.

But he did remember, apparently, because, while you stood there, puzzled and a little alarmed, his number lit up on your screen again.

Clearing your throat, you picked up the call. “Hello?”

“Oh, fuck, thank God, you’re here,” Yoongi spoke and, judging from the relief in his voice, he knew very well whom he was talking to. “Is Jungkook with you?”

“Jungkook?” you repeated stupidly. “W-why would he be with me? Don’t you have a show?”

Yoongi laughed, loudly and completely humorlessly. “We do have a show. He was wasted for the most of it.”

A painful bolt of electricity shot through you. “He performed drunk?”

“Doesn’t matter. At least, he performed,” Yoongi said, “that’s before the encore, though. We couldn’t find him. The fucking asshole completely missed the three final songs. We thought he went to see you.”

You felt a pang of guilt even though you had nothing to feel guilty about because Jungkook was most definitely not with you, and he didn’t have a single reason to come see you before he finished the show anyway.

“I-I’m not on campus right now,” you said, running your hand through your hair as you considered what could have happened in the span of the few hours since you left your dorm this morning, after having talked to Jungkook on the phone. “Did you try calling him?”

“Obviously. He’s not picking up. I’m pretty sure he tossed his phone into a fucking lake,” Yoongi said and then, even though he didn’t mean it, he added angrily, “he better be in the lake, too, or else I’ll kill him myself.”

Knowing that the scenario of Jungkook accidentally driving into a lake wasn’t one to be dismissed, you felt your skin shiver.

“I’ll look for him,” you promised, looking back at the celebration in the tent across the field.

“You said you weren’t on campus,” Yoongi said. “Your roommate said she was out, too.”

You weren’t aware that Yoongi had talked to Inna tonight, but that explained the avalanche of missed calls from her. You made a mental note to send her a quick explanatory text message on your way to your dorm.

“I’m coming back,” you told Yoongi, grabbing your bag and making your way back to the rest of the company. “Let me know if he gets in touch with you, though, okay?”

The boy on the other end scoffed. “He won’t. Chances are, he won’t talk to the rest of us for a week after he eventually shows up back home. As if it’s us who fucked up, and not him.”

“Did anything happen?” you asked, still trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. That wasn’t easy when each piece looked drastically different from the next and you had no idea what the full picture was supposed to look like. “Did someone say something to him? Did he get into a fight? Did he—”

“No. Nothing happened. We were—ah, shit, wait, his dad texted him, didn’t he?” Yoongi said but it didn’t sound like he was addressing you. He wasn’t; a moment later, a muffled, “yeah” sounded in the background of the call. Then, Yoongi continued, “yeah, we were finishing up with the soundcheck when he got a text from his dad. He read it and just fucking dipped. When he came back to do the show, he was already struggling on his feet.”

You cursed under your breath before thinking aloud, “his dad is here. I did see him text Jungkook but he was just sending him a picture—could it have been the picture that triggered him?”

“A picture of what?”

“There’s this barbecue that the company organized. His dad invited us both but he stayed back to do the show, so I came alone. We took a picture, everyone who’s here. And his dad sent it to him. Could that be the reason why he—”

“No,” Yoongi said right away, “company dinners—or barbecues, or whatever—doesn’t sound like Jungkook’s thing. He wouldn’t give a fuck about the picture. Unless you took someone there as your plus one?”

“Of course I didn’t. I was supposed to come with him but—oh, fuck.”

You stopped walking, the realization hitting you first, and the absurdity of it following right after.

Namjoon was in the picture next to you. He was just standing there, not even touching you, but was it possible that his appearance in the picture was enough for Jungkook to lose touch with reality?

“Fuck, of course, that’s possible,” you said out loud, almost stomping your feet in frustration like a kid, throwing a tantrum. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll text you if I find him.”

You didn’t hear Yoongi’s response because you were already pulling the phone away from your ear as you returned to the tent. You needed to find a way to leave without raising any suspicions with Jungkook’s father – whom you ran past in a wide semicircle like he was the plague itself – and you figured that the best way to do that would be faking a health emergency.

But for that, you needed to spend another few inconspicuous minutes by the table, looking colorless and uncomfortable. That wasn’t going to be difficult since you did feel light-headed already.

As you waited for the right amount of time to pass before you could leave, you tried texting Jungkook. You even tried calling – thinking you’d have enough time to walk far enough from the table so that’d no one would hear you – but the beeping signal never ceased and you didn’t get to hear Jungkook’s voice.

Right when you bit your lip, trying his number for the fifth time in a row as if the previous four times were just glitches in the system, someone noticed your distress.

“Hey,” Namjoon’s voice sounded by your ear, startling you because he was across the table from you just a second ago. “You okay? You came back to the table, looking very out of it.”

“Namjoon,” you said, your voice so grave, he thought you were about to tell him that the entire campus had burned down while the two of you weren’t there and you were the only suspects. “I need to leave.”

“Did something happen?” he asked, the concern in his voice genuine.

You nodded. “Jungkook got in trouble. I have to go back, b-but I can’t tell his father about any of this.”

You spoke without thinking about your last conversation with Namjoon or how this news could have confirmed Jungkook as a useless waste of space in his eyes. Frankly, in that moment, you couldn’t have cared less about Namjoon’s opinion of Jungkook.

You could have used his help, even if he was going to judge you for it.

“I’m going to call myself a cab,” you said, “but could you please do me a favor, and tell his dad that I’d left because I wasn’t feeling well?”

Namjoon pulled back from your chair and looked across the table to his own seat – his leather jacket resting on the back of the chair – before giving you a nod.

“Let’s go,” he said. You were already standing up but then paused and sat back down, confused.

“What?”

“I’ll drive you back to campus,” he said, “we can leave without saying anything – no one will even notice. And then, when I’m back, I can tell everyone that you weren’t feeling well and that’s why I took you home early.”

“T-that’s very kind, but I can really just—”

“No, let me take you home,” Namjoon insisted as gently as he could, afraid that his forceful tone might remind you of his previous slip-up when you were talking about Jungkook. “It’ll be my way of apologizing for stepping over the line earlier today.”

You considered telling him that he had nothing to apologize for – he didn’t know Jungkook personally and everyone was entitled to their own opinion; you’d just gotten annoyed that he was so quick to hide this opinion under the curtain of fake politeness – but, eventually, the realization that you really didn’t have the time to debate if he should have felt apologetic or not won over, and you nodded.

You needed to get back to campus quickly, even if there was a risk of Jungkook seeing you and Namjoon together again – if that really was the reason why he got drunk and missed the encore of his own show.

“Okay. Let’s go,” you said, finally standing up. “Thank you.”

keep reading | masterlist

#bts reactions #bts college au #jeon jungkook #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook college au #college au #fanfiction #bts angst #bts imagines #angst #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic

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communistkenobi-archive · 4 years

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Clone Culture, the Jedi, and the Mandalorians

There’s a popular post going around which is critical of the widespread fanon interpretation that clones are heavily influenced by Mandalorian culture. It dismisses these connections, and then provides an alternative, seemingly more canonically concrete, cultural influence - the Jedi.

I’m responding to it here because I don’t want to reblog an already mile-long post and make it even longer, and also because I’m not really interested in engaging with someone directly who is that hostile to a completely harmless and fun fandom trend. The arguments they make in that post are ones I have a lot of issues with - not only because many of them are factually incorrect, but the way they argue their case is problematic. You can read their full post here - that is the version of the post I will be responding to, and I encourage people to read it first so they have full context for what I’m talking about. I will be bolding the beginnings of each of my response points for better readability.

I would also like to say thank you to @jate-kara for giving me sources and confirming some really valuable information on early pre-Disney canon. If anything is incorrect in this post, it’s my fault.

This post is going to be long, so I’m putting it under a cut.

The broad points of this person’s argument appear to be:

The Mandalorian-clone connection is only explicit in the EU, and any “trivial” connections in tCW/the PT (Rex’s Jaig Eyes, their biological relation to Jango Fett) are not sufficient enough to warrant the fanon focus on mando culture being integrated into clone culture.

If there are any significant cultural influences the clones draw from, it is the Jedi.

This mando-clone fanon interpretation is “weird” because it goes against the personal vision George Lucas had for the clones.

And what is left unstated, but is a required presupposition in order for these claims to make any sense, is:

On their own, the clones don’t have any significant “culture” and must be taught by an external source - the “debate” is over which source they draw from.

The first three reblogs in that post address the 1st and 3rd point I just listed. The George Lucas one is easy to dismiss - GL isn’t the only person who has authority on SW. This is just auteur theory bullshit. The argument that “this fandom headcanon conflicts with the wishes of the original author for a massive trans-media property that is contributed to by literal thousands of people” is not a refutation of fandom interpretation, it’s a personal grievance that fandom isn’t taking Word-of-God seriously enough. GL was never the sole author of SW even in the OT, anyway - the first movie was saved in editing by his wife, for example, just to name one single other person who had massive authoritative oversight in the narrative of SW. To claim that A) his wishes are the only thing that matter, B) that he disliked the EU interpretation of clones and that that is sufficient enough for fans to ignore the EU, and C) that because fandom goes against those wishes, they are wrong, is ridiculous.

Obviously, GL’s input matters when discussing what is factually relevant, and it’s fine to put more weight on his interpretation because he is (one of) the original authors - it’s likely the reason the Mando connection wasn’t explicit in tCW, as the OP stated. But the Legends EU was still canon during tCW’s initial production, and fandom is allowed to interpret those connections differently from one of the OG authors of SW without it being seen as “weird” or a problem.

The other argument - that the actual canon connections between clones and Mandalorians is too weak to warrant this fandom trend - is one I’m about to get into because it ties into the 2nd point above, but I am going to note something that the OP brings up multiple times: they do not believe the visual markers on the clones’ armour (like Jaig Eyes, in this instance) are a remarkable piece of clone culture and can be dismissed as “superficial”.

Now, onto the final reblog (begins under the header “AND NOW, ONTO “ACTUAL” CLONE CULTURE (aka I have been provided with an opportunity to yell about Jedi and Clones and dammit I will use it)!” in the post I linked at the beginning).

The first claim is that the Jedi are the ones who taught the clones creativity, and the first piece of evidence used to justify that claim is Nala Se’s commentary on the clones:

I’m afraid the Jedi have inspired creative thinking in some of the clones. That is the cause of this type of divergent behavior.

To begin, why are we trusting Nala Se as a reliable authority on clone behaviour? Beyond the fact that she has very limited interaction with them once they leave Kamino, she has no incentive to tell the truth, either to her conversational partner or to the audience. She wants to kill Fives for discovering the control chip every clone has - the ultimate purpose of which is to eradicate the Jedi. Though Nala Se isn’t aware of the chip's true purpose, her motives and goals directly contradict the Jedi’s, since she conceals the chip and Protocol 66 at Dooku's behest. Why should we accept what she says about the clones uncritically? This statement alone is not enough to make the argument that the Jedi taught all clones “creative” thinking.

The two other examples given are Plo and Yoda being kind to their men. The former is not an example of Plo “teaching” the clones creativity; he’s simply acknowledging their humanity. Which is a good thing for him to do obviously, but it’s not relevant to the claim being made. The clones are making statements about their value to the Republic, not necessarily about their humanity (“We’re just clones, sir. We’re meant to be expendable.”). You can acknowledge your lack of worth to an institution while still fully knowing you are worthy of dignity and respect.

Now, Yoda’s words could definitely be taken as instructions on how to think more creatively, which I am copying from OP’s post:

Deceive you, eyes can. In the Force, very different each one of you are. Rys, always focused on the enemy, are you. For inspiration, look to yourself, and those beside you. Jek, concerned about weapons you are. Weapons do not win battles. Your mind, powerful it is. Outthink the droids, you can. Thire, rush not into fights. Long is the war. Only by surviving it, will you prevail. Yes. Clones you may be, but the Force resides in all life forms. Use it, you can, to quiet your mind.

But we’ve already seen the clones think creatively before they’re deployed to the front lines. The episode “Clone Cadets” (3x01) shows us exactly that - Domino squad learns to adapt and think for themselves when their trainers alter the training simulation on them without warning. The extent of Shaak Ti’s input is to give them more attempts to complete said simulation, but that’s about it. If anyone is a mentor to them in this episode, it’s 99. So canon gives us a direct and explicit example of the clones learning and growing together to work as a creative, unifying force, unless you want to make the claim that Shaak Ti taught them how to have those epiphanies in the first place, which is much less supported in the text.

Another very instructive example on how the clones think of themselves is the Umbara arc (4x08 - 4x10) - the ONLY Jedi present in that arc is the primary antagonising force, and Rex and the other clones all come to the conclusion that they are more than the orders they follow, even when there is a Jedi there telling them the opposite. It’s revealed at the end that Pong Krell is no longer a Jedi, but for the majority of that arc the clones believe he is one. How does this fit into the argument that the Jedi are the true arbiters of clone morality if the entire Umbara arc is an explicit refutation of that claim? You cannot even make the argument that the Jedi taught the clones critical thinking prior to this, because when Pong Krell was a Jedi, he still treated his own men like shit. You would have to square the circle of how the clones figure out which of the Jedi are correct (Yoda, Plo, etc) and which ones are not (Pong Krell), which requires them to have critical thinking to discern which ones to listen to in the first place.

Then, we get this claim, which is the entire reason I’m even bothering to make this post to begin with:

By this point the Clones already have tattoos, painted armors and unique haircuts, but these are superficial ways of expressing your identity. (bolded emphasis mine)

The work this statement is doing is A) dismissing any independent expression of personhood the clones display as superficial, and B) saying that what is “actually” important to clone culture are the things the Jedi ostensibly taught them.

Now, to make the argument that body modification, grooming practices, and dress are unremarkable components of a group’s culture is, like, ignorant to a degree that I cannot possibly overstate. Encoding your personhood onto your body by modifying it in various ways is one of the most fundamental components of cultural expression, because you are quite literally codifying your values onto your body in order to display it to other people. It is actually, genuinely baffling to have to refute this point because of how ridiculous it is - if individual expression was not remarkable whatsoever, how would you communicate your relationship to a group? How do you explain literally anything about human behaviour if these sorts of things are just fun little choices people make independent of race, gender, age, religious affiliation, sexual orientation, nationality, ability, ethnicity, class, etc?

I don’t want to belabour this point, but this is one of the most absurd arguments I’ve ever seen, made with zero evidence to back it up, and it is a major crux in OP’s argument. It literally isn’t even true for the Jedi, one of the fictional groups of people being discussed here. Why have Padawan braids, robes, or anything else that visually distinguishes them from others if these things do not share space in the fabric of your culture?

The clones make these choices to express their individuality, which is independent and happens prior to Jedi influence. They literally pick their own names, and sometimes even gift names to their brothers (see “Echo”). If these are irrelevant when discussing what constitutes clone “culture”, then you are no longer talking about culture. I genuinely have no idea what would qualify as culture if tattoos, dress and grooming practices, as well as the ritual of choosing one’s own name aren’t a part of that.

Going back to the Jaig Eyes on Rex’s helmet, not only is this one of the major things that visually distinguish him from all the other clones in the show, it is an intentional visual marker that connects the Mandalorians to the clones in tCW. This connection cannot be understood without the context of the EU books and other canon (now Legends) material on the Mandalorians. If the clones started wearing the symbol of the Jedi Order on the pauldrons of their armour, or getting it tattooed on their bodies to show their admiration for the Jedi and their cultural influence, would that be superficial and irrelevant in determining where the clones draw cultural inspiration from?

The next section of that post is discussing parallels between Jedi practices and clone practices, and mostly draws on sources that don’t feature the clones at all (the OT), or only feature them in minor support roles (the comic being cited). I’m not going to respond to those because they aren’t relevant.

My stance on using canon to support your claim is that the canon being used needs to feature the object of discussion in a significant way (ie the clones). If you’re using other texts that talk about Jedi philosophy that are removed from their interactions with clones, I don’t think that’s a fair way to go about interpreting canon, especially given that there are, again, literally thousands of people writing for SW and contradictions are common. And if this connection between Jedi and clone culture was supposed to be this explicit and obvious in the text, there would be no need to draw on canonical sources that do not have the clones heavily interacting with the Jedi in them in the first place.

Then we get to this final claim:

Last little note: Jedi culture is hugely emphatic on the irrelevance of where you come from compared to who you decide to be. [..] Similarly, the Clones have different views on whether or not their origin defines them, some express themselves with alterations to their appearances, some don’t, and their sense of identity is most commonly rooted in their role as soldiers, their loyalty to the Republic, and their brothers. Same basic structure. (bolded emphasis mine)

This isn’t unique to Jedi. In fact, Mandalorians themselves don’t care about genetic origins either - they even have multiple phrases in Mando’a about this:

Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la.

Meaning: Nobody cares who your father was, only the father you'll be. (Lit: Bloodline is not important, but you as a father are the most valuable thing.) Mando saying emphasising the importance of a father's role, and that a man is judged more by that than his lineage.

And this one:

Aliit ori'shya tal'din

Meaning: Family is more than blood.

(both taken from mandoa.org).

So the fact that the clones have complicated feelings about their origin can’t be attributed to the Jedi, especially not on the basis that the Jedi believe genetic origin is irrelevant but Mandalorians do not.

And again we go back to this very bizarre assumption that any humanity, creativity, critical thinking, or philosophy the clones exhibit have to be taught to them by an external source. The claim being made here is not just that the Jedi taught them all these things, but that if they hadn’t, the clones would not have figured these things out for themselves. This is an impossible thing to refute because you cannot prove a negative. I have no clue how the clones’ understanding of themselves and the world would be different had the Jedi not been pivotal in the Clone Wars, and neither does anybody else, because that’s not possible to demonstrate unless Disney completely rebooted the canon and rewrote the events of the Prequel Trilogy, tCW, Rebels, and all the other affiliated canon material.

I also want to say that I don’t disagree with the claim that the Jedi influenced clone culture to some extent. I think that’s pretty obviously true, both in canon and also intuitively. Culture is malleable and fuzzy - of course spending extended amounts of time with another group of people is going to result in cultural transfer of some kind. But the claim that the clones wouldn’t have any culture without Jedi input, or that the clones couldn’t have drawn from Mandalorian culture in shaping their own, is a very bizarre argument to make and one I don’t really see the point of, beyond further lionising the Jedi as this completely benevolent and perfect religious institution.

This isn’t even getting into the very troubling framing of this debate - that these slaves must be taught morality by a benevolent religious order, and ascribing any “good” qualities the slaves show as simply being part of that religious order’s influence on them. I’m going to assume good faith on OP’s part and say this likely wasn’t intentional, but this is the exact same kind of language that is used to justify actual real-world imperial projects and violence. I recognise that we are talking about Star Wars and not real life, but fiction is a reflection of the material reality we live in, and as a consequence, it is impossible to avoid using arguments made in real life to talk about fiction. I would caution people on which sorts of arguments they make, especially when talking about heavily oppressed characters in fiction.

Conclusion

The clones are their own group of people. Their norms, practices, linguistic ticks, forms of expression, philosophies, and views on their own personhood are likely drawn from a variety of sources, including the Jedi and the Mandalorians. That, however, absolutely does not mean that these components of their culture could not have arisen without the direction of the Jedi, or that those influences constitute their entire culture.

You are absolutely allowed to not accept or even enjoy fanon trends, especially when it’s something as harmless as the headcanon that the clones are culturally Mandalorian, but to then dismiss this headcanon as “weird” because it A) somehow diminishes the role the Jedi play in the lives of the clones, B) goes against the wishes of George Lucas, which is an inherently bad thing to do, and C) ascribes too much agency on the clones, because left to their own devices they would have no culture to speak of, you are turning this disagreement into a moral argument.

I have no idea why you would ever make this discussion a moral one, unless this headcanon is somehow a slight against the Jedi, or contains problematic elements that the OP failed to address. It was genuinely difficult trying to summarise the points made in this post because the thesis statement is vague, confused, and requires a lot of hidden assumptions in order to be fully understood.

I would also like to say that I have no expectations that this post is going to foster healthy, rational discussion, or that myself and the person I’m responding to are going to come to some happy synthesis. It’s why I’m not reblogging their post directly. They were reacting quite strongly to a harmless fandom trend that they very obviously dislike, and I fundamentally disagree with every reason they have presented to justify this dislike as some sort of greater slight on the Jedi and canon itself. Regardless of whether they see this post or respond to it, these are my thoughts on the matter and I have no interest in engaging in live slapfights online. This is not an endorsement or encouragement to go respond to that person yourself or interact with them in any way, shape, or form. And if you do, I just want to make it clear that I don’t agree with anybody doing so and hope people simply block and move on.

#sw.txt #sw meta #tcw meta

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roniscloud · 3 years

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jsb - 302

jung subin [f. 1577 words] 302

from the day you moved into your new apartment, you couldn’t help but notice the cute tenant across the hall from you. you first saw him when you were bringing in the last round of boxes. you left a box in the frame of the door so you wouldn’t get locked out. with the final one, you joyfully kicked open the entry and practically dropped the items from your arms, ready to be done with unloading from your cramped car. standing in the doorway, looking into the quaint one-bedroom loft, you realize you now need to unpack and organize everything. you thought about a game plan, opting to get some food before starting. you turn your head to look to the hall outside, catching a glimpse of someone entering the apartment on the other side.

you’ve never properly met him. hell, you don’t even know his name, only referring to him as 302—the brass number adorning his wooden door. yet, you know he always gets subway for lunch every tuesday, take-out from the ramen bistro down the street every friday, and goes to dinner with his friends every other saturday night. you know he has two pets, a cat and a dog. you know that he likes to go on early morning walks on sundays if the weather is nice and that he usually leaves, for what you assume would be work, at 7:30 am sharp. even with all of the trivial things you know about him, you somehow still had no idea what his name was. funny how that works.

little to your knowledge, subin—the nameless next-door neighbor—thought the same thing. he thought it was hysterical that he didn’t know his new neighbor’s identity—opting for the nickname, 303—but somehow knew that they were a night-owl who loved ordering a large pizza every thursday and strictly bought groceries on the second sunday of each month.

it wasn’t until about almost 4 months of you living in that loft till you crossed paths. it was bound to happen, right? you found yourself entering the building after a long day, on the phone with a close friend. you aimlessly press the button for the elevator, not looking up and waiting for the doors to open. a presence is made on your right, but you pay no attention, too caught up in your conversation, too busy to notice that it’s subin. your friend is rambling on and on about your favorite k-drama, “one spring night”.

“i get that, but hear me out. jeongin’s sister should just leave him already. she deserves better and there is no way that deadbeat jackass would be a good father, not like jiho is for his son.” your quarrel catching the attention of subin. “what do you mean by that? jiho sacrificed everything because eunwoo’s mom is no longer in the picture. even if he can’t be there 24/7, he still gives his all for his son.”

your argument continues till you reach your door. you nestle your phone onto your shoulder, sandwiching it there with the side of your head. you reach into your bag to pull out your keys. “yeah, whatever. i’m home anyways. i’ll talk to you later. i need to order some food, i’m starving.” a light chuckle comes from you with the last words. you exchange goodbyes, hanging up the call. you turn the key and open the door. you’re interrupted with a small voice behind you.

“excuse me… were you possibly talking about ‘one spring night’? i didn’t mean to eavesdrop, i just really love that show.” bright eyes and an even brighter smile are what your eyes see as you turn to answer.

you blink a few times and swallow. this is it. this is him. you stumble to find the words, “oh… uh… yeah. my friend and i are both watching it and i guess… we’re just really passionate about it.”

“i mean it is really good, hard to stop watching.” this time he’s the one laughing. his voice resonating in your ears like honey, his giggle being oh so sweet. “now that i think about it, i’m pretty sure we’ve never actually met. i’m subin.”

you introduce yourself. not knowing what else to say other than your name and that it was nice to finally meet him. he shyly apologizes for never approaching you and not giving you a proper welcome to the complex. you tell him that it’s fine and that there’s no reason to worry.

after that night, you seem to always see each other, always flashing a polite grin to one another. sometimes, you’ll stop in the hallway to dish about the newest show you both are hooked on. until one day, he notices you go to work like every morning, but you’re not back by your typical time. you haven’t formally addressed each other as friends yet, but it comes like second-nature to him to feel anxious. he paces back and forth in his kitchen, checking the peephole everytime he hears the faintest of noises in the hall. you usually get home at 5:37, pushing 6:21 if you decide to get dinner on the way. it’s almost quarter to ten when he hears keys jangling. his neck whips around immediately, not even checking if it’s you, just rushing to open the door. “where have you been?” the worry way too evident in his tone.

“oh… were you waiting for me? i’m sorry if i worried you. i had a dinner with someone, you know how that goes. blind date.” you roll your eyes at the mention of your coworker’s doing.

he sighs loudly. “how’d it go?”

“he was… nice, not sure i see myself dating him, but hey… it’s only the first date.”

“so, there’s going to be a second?”

“maybe, still not sure. we don’t really click.”

“well, you never know. people can surprise you. i should probably head back inside. have a goodnight.”

“you too…”

from then, your coworker keeps setting you up with other people. unfortunately, no one ever being a good match. by the fifth? sixth one? who knows at this point? you’re pretty much done with these stupid outings, but you’re not one to say no to a friend who’s trying to do a favor. you grab the last of your things as you make your way out. not even stepping all the way into the hallway are you met with subin’s voice.

“again, seriously?”

“you know me… how am i supposed to turn it down?”

“by saying that you’d rather not go on a date, by saying you’re not looking for a relationship right now, by telling your friend that maybe you’d rather find someone on your own…” he states in a teasing tone. “why go on another shitty date when you can spend the night with me, binge-watching our favorite tv shows and drinking cheap beer?”

“at this point, i’d consider that the best idea anyone has ever had. i’ll text them saying an emergency came up and that i can’t make it.” he opens his door wider to let you in.

an hour and a half later, you find yourself slightly buzzed and on the fourth episode of a new drama. “boo, can they stop pining over each other and kiss already?”

“subin, calm down. they literally just started getting close.”

“but- but they-”

“i know, i know. i want them to get together already too, but we have to wait.” you turn your attention back to the screen situated higher up on the wall. “look, they’re at least sitting closer now. before they couldn’t even hold eye contact for two seconds.” he’s quiet, not trying to refute your observation. “subin? are you even watching?” your gaze meets his. “hello? earth to jung subin. i asked if you were watching…”

“you remember the night we met? what you were talking about? how you said the sister deserved better than the jackass? well, you do too. you deserve better than those guys.”

“how much did you drink? i think you might want to slow down on those beers.” you laugh at his expression, the smile not leaving your lips.

“please, stop smiling at me like that. i’m not sure what will happen if you keep doing that.”

“alright, now i’m sure you drank too much.” you’re flustered at how straightforward he is. “i think it’s time i go.”

“wait, no. look, i’m sorry. i wasn’t thinking. i just- i really do think you deserve better.”

“and who and where is exactly is better?”

“me. right now, whenever.”

your jaw drops. did subin just confess? did your heart just skip a beat? is he telling the truth or is it just the alcohol and mood talking? “tell me that again when you’re sober. for now, i’m leaving. i’ll see you in the morning.”

you’re woken up with your phone ringing. you see the contact, 302, appear. your groggy morning voice answers. you hear subin ask you to come out. you reach your entryway, opening it to see a wide-awake neighbor. “you deserve better.”

“huh… so you weren’t kidding?”

“nope.” he nods his head firmly, pouting his lips.

“well… if you really think that, let me go back to sleep. you can come in, maybe cuddle, who knows? i just need sleep.” he follows you in, reaching his hand down to hold yours and bring it up to kiss the back of it.

originally written: 26 november 2020

#subin #jung subin #subin fluff #jung subin fluff #subin imagine #subin imagines #subin fic #subin fics #subin blurb #subin blurbs #victon #victon subin #victon fluff #victon imagines #victon fics #victon blurbs

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brighteyewrites · 3 years

Text

Words as Weapons

With a part of me gone And it’s hard to hold on to the person that I used to know And it kills me inside I am buried alive I am nothing but flesh over bone - The Drug [Egypt Central] Angstember Day 11 | Fandom: Overwatch (Pre-Fall) | Angela / Gabriel

AO3 | FF.net | Works

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Angela,” Dr. Port said as she rose from his couch. Angela didn’t think they had made much - if any - progress, but he didn’t seem to be concerned about it. He’d insisted on daily appointments for the foreseeable future; since this was his area of expertise, and she wasn’t really in a position to argue, Angela had agreed. “Tomorrow,” she replied quietly, before making her way out of the office. Angela stayed close to the wall as she made her way down the hallway, keeping her distance from others and ignoring their confused - or pitiful - looks. The sound of something thudding against the wall had her jumping, automatically putting some distance between herself and the noise. Quickly, she realized the sound had come from the opposite side of the wall - partially because there was nothing there, but mostly because of the raised voices she could hear. The words were muffled, but she would recognize Gabriel’s voice anywhere. He and Jack were fighting. Again. Before, she’d barge in there and do her best to mediate - or at least separate them. But, as she was now, she didn’t think she was in a position to manage either. She’d already had bad reactions to their raised voices; she didn’t particularly want to have another. But, if things were slamming into walls, she might just have to, anyway. Things had never gotten physical between the two men - at least, not to her knowledge. Oh, they could be absolutely vicious with their words sometimes, but the damage was always verbal or emotional. Angela approached the door carefully, doing her best to assess the situation before involving herself in it. As she got closer, she realized that the door wasn’t completely closed - between that small opening and how loud the men inside the office were, she could make out their conversation. “—ell me to calm down,” Gabriel’s voice snarled from the right, making her tense. That partial statement, mixed with things slamming into walls, made it easy to guess what they were arguing about. If they were fighting - physically - Angela could assume that Gabriel was the aggressor and that she - or, rather, her kidnapping - was the topic. Despite her reservations and the absolute terror it inspired in her, she knew that this couldn’t go on. The last thing she wanted was for them to fight about her capture - to allow it even more power than it already had. Angela took a deep, steadying breath; if she was going to go in there, it wouldn’t help anything if she were a wreck when she did it. “I trusted you.” His voice was still an enraged snarl, but it cracked with something sad - grief or despair, she wasn’t sure. After a moment, probably of him composing himself, Gabriel was shouting again. “You were supposed to keep her safe.” Before, Angela might have bristled at the words - she had come a long way from needing a dedicated protector, or so she had thought - but now, a small part of her couldn’t help but agree. “I should have known better,” Gabriel snapped, spurring her into action. The words were accompanied by another thud that had her wincing even as she reached out for the door. “You couldn’t even protect Ana; I never should have believed you could protect Angela.” Angela froze, eyes wide, as his words chilled even her. That was a targeted, vicious attack and a horrible insinuation. “What happened with Ana has nothing to do with this,” Jack snarled, matching Gabriel’s anger with his own. “We took every precaution with Angela. We did everything possible—” “It’s not enough. Have you seen her?” Gabriel’s voice demanded, cutting him off viciously. “No, you haven’t,” Gabriel answered his own question before Jack could even try to respond, “because she’s barely left her rooms. She’s terrified.” Angela frowned, even if she couldn’t refute the fact; she was terrified. Hands balling into fists, Angela reached for the door again - it was time to put an end to this. “They broke her,” her hands froze again as she took a shuddering breath. It was one thing to think they thought that about her, but it was another to hear it aloud - and from Gabriel no less. “There is no ‘enough.’” He’d continued, unaware that she had heard him - but his continued speech made it possible for her to move. It was fortunate that all she had to do was push the door open - Angela didn’t think her shaky hands could manage an access card or doorknob. “Get ou—” Gabriel’s voice cut off abruptly as he realized who had walked into the room; it was an act of pure will that she hadn’t ducked back out of the door, but it was a very near thing. Silence fell, thick and heavy, as she stood in the doorway - Angela had barely managed to take the two steps it had taken to get her just inside. She could feel their shocked gazes on her, though she didn’t turn to look at them. “Angela?” Jack was the one to break the silence. “Is every—” He cut himself off swiftly, changing the question. “Do you need something?” His voice was cautious and far more gentle than she’d expected him to be capable of, considering Gabriel still had him pinned to the wall. Angela balled her trembling hands into fists, trying to build up her courage to speak - and feeling foolish for it. She had been the one to force herself in here, after all. She could have left them to it; this new Angela was far more okay with avoiding conflict – with easy – than the old one. “I—” Angela swallowed, trying ineffectively to bring moisture to her dry throat. Instead of addressing the more painful words, the ones that cut just as deeply as anything her captors had done, she forced herself to focus on why she had come in here in the first place. “You need to stop.” It should have been a declaration - the old Angela could have shouted it at them, glaring with arms crossed as she dared them to argue. This new Angela could barely raise her voice louder than a whisper, incapable of looking in their direction as she gestured at the two of them with shaking hands. “Angela,” Gabriel started, voice notably softer as he addressed her. This wasn’t the first time she’d barged into one of their arguments - but she’d never been as fragile back then. That Angela could stare them down, hands on her hips, as she gave as good as she got. This Angela could barely keep from bolting out of the door at her back. “You didn’t need to come in here,” Gabriel told her carefully; he could clearly see her terror in her shaking hands and haggard breathing. Angela shook her head, a silent argument that was far less effective than her words. There were so many things she could say, but she couldn’t seem to get her voice to work. “I’m alright, Angela,” Jack offered into the silence. Angela glanced their way, eyes briefly resting on Gabriel and then Jack. Gabriel looked frazzled, but he had put some space between the two of them. Jack was straightening his shirt as if nothing had happened. “I’m not hurt.” Assured that they were both whole, Angela dropped her eyes back to the floor before her. Neither looked any worse for wear from what she could tell; hopefully, she had stepped in before any physical damage could be inflicted. Angela knew she had been far too late to defend any of them - herself included - from the psychological blows. “This fighting…” Angela started, voice quiet as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say - and what she could say. “It isn’t helping.” Angela hated to play on their pity, but she could handle it if it kept them from each others throats; the fighting was far worse and would be more than she could bear for long. Besides, it was close enough to what the Angela of before would have said - their fighting really wasn’t helping anything. All the arguing did was make it harder to work towards their common goals; their pride made them nearly impossible to work with some days. Angela wasn’t sure how Ana had managed them for so long, but it was exhausting. “Angela, you don’t understand,” Gabriel said, some of his previous anger tinting his voice. She bit the inside of her cheek and forced herself to remain still; he wasn’t yelling at her. It was fine. Instead, her eyes flashed back to his as anger filled her. “I understand what happened to me far better than you do, Gabriel.” The words were ice-cold despite the tremor in her voice. Gabriels’ jaw clenched against the reminder - as if he wasn’t the one who had started the fight in the first place. “Just,” Angela sighed heavily, the anger leaving her just as quickly as it had come, “please.” The plea in her voice had them both looking away from her shamefully. “Fighting about it will not fix anything.” Angela doubted anything could fix what had happened to her - especially if Gabriel thought she was broken. The two men were silent. Neither was willing to offer a promise of a ceasefire to her, not when they knew it would probably be broken. It was a courtesy they may not have extended to her before, but they both knew she was far too fragile to deal with broken promises on top of her wounded heart. Angela’s shoulders slumped. It had been worth a try, even if she had known it was fruitless. “If you must argue,” Angela muttered darkly as she turned towards the exit, “at least do it where no one can overhear you.” The last thing she wanted was for other people to hear those vicious words Gabriel had snarled at Jack. It was bad enough that she had heard them. “Angela,” Gabriel’s voice stopped her before she could leave the room. “What did you hear?” There was a quiet desperation in his voice. It hadn’t occurred to him until now that she might have heard what he had said. “I heard enough,” Angela replied, voice heavy with far too much emotion. Before he could offer any kind of apology or excuse, Angela stepped through the door and closed it firmly behind her.

One | Two | Three | Four | Five

#overwatch #fanfiction #angela ziegler #gabriel reyes #mercykill #angstember2021 #writing challenge #writing prompt #angst #tw past trauma #tw mention of death #tw dark themes #angels ransom series

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naminethewriter · 3 years

Text

Today’s Topic: Snakes

Day 4 and I am on time 🥳 Anyway, I have an entire AU idea in my head now but no story for it, so I will post about it later, probably 😅 Hope you enjoy! @loceitweek2021

Here on Ao3

Masterpost | Loceit Week Masterpost

Characters: Logan, Janus, others mentioned

Relationships: familiar Loceit, background romantic Intrulogical

Rating: G

Words: 1,297

Summary: Logan loves his son but he can't allow him to bring his snake to school.

Logan just finished Janus’ lunch for school when his son entered the kitchen. He had one of his pet snakes curled around his arm.

“Morning, Papa,” he yawned. Logan let out a small laugh.

“Good morning to you too, sleepyhead.”

“Dad already left?”

“Yeah. He said something about exploding paint and left for the studio. I did not want to ask further questions but I told him to not drag paint into the house. Again.” Now it was Janus’ turn to snicker and he took a seat at the table. “What do you want for breakfast? Toast or cereal?”

“Cereal, please,” Janus said with a smile and got back up to get the bowl and spoon for himself while Logan grabbed the box and milk. Logan had eaten with his husband but kept his son company while reading the newspaper and drinking the last of his coffee. They usually spend this part of their routine in silence, just enjoying each other’s company however if Remus were here they would listen to whatever he wanted to infodump about. Logan and Janus both needed some time in the morning to really wake up but Remus was always full of energy after getting up.

“Hey, papa?” Janus eventually broke their traditional silence.

“Yes, Jay?”

“Can I ask you something?” Logan raised an eyebrow but put the newspaper aside to devote his full attention to his son.

“Of course. What can I help you with?” Janus pushed the now empty bowl away and began fidgeting in his seat.

“Can I take Jake to school with me today?” Logan’s eyes flickered to the snake in question, still curled around his son’s arm, apparently content to just hang on. He focused back on Janus who did his best impression of his uncle’s puppy eyes. Logan sighed.

“I am quite certain that is against school rules, so no.”

“It’s not, I checked! There is not one word about snakes in there.”

“However, there is a rule against all pets on school grounds within regular school hours.”

“Jake’s not a pet, he’s my friend!” Janus pouted, as if the mere suggestion that his snake could be a pet is insulting.

“I am sorry, Jay, but the school board defines all animals held within student or teacher’s living space as pets, no matter how close a bond you have. Jake stays here.” Janus squinted at him.

“Debate Challenge!”

It was a house rule that if there was a conflict of interest or argument happening that someone involved can call out ‘Debate Challenge’ and the situation would be resolved through a proper discussion. The format would allow each side to present their arguments without getting interrupted or immediately refuted as well as form a proper response. Team-ups were allowed as long as it was not Janus (or one child) against his dads (or two adults). It was a rule that Logan had put into place well before Remus and he even got engaged. Logan liked order and fights were nothing if not messy. And even if Remus preferred chaos, he could appreciate the guarantee to be listened to.

Logan checked the clock before answering: “Alright. In order for you to arrive at school on time we need to leave in 20 minutes, 25 maxima. Considering how much time we both need to get ready; you have 10 minutes to convince me. Take the first two to prepare your strategy.” Janus nodded and pulled the notepad they kept on the table in case Remus needs to write down a sudden idea or they get crucial information on the phone to take notes. Meanwhile Logan cleaned up the dishes.

“Okay, done!” Janus called a bit over two minutes later.

“Good. Now you have two minutes for your arguments, then I will respond in another two minutes and after that we each get one minute for rebuttals. Sound fair?”

“Yes.”

“Then you may start.”

“First, I understand why there is a rule against pets during school. Most common pets, such as dogs or cats, can be loud and distracting and can make a mess. But Jake is small, quiet and probably won’t need to poop until tomorrow. If I keep him in my pocket, the teachers won’t even know he’s there. I already fed him and Joey so he won’t need any more until I’m back home. Virgil is still sick and you know I don’t have any friends in my class. I just don’t wanna be alone and I don’t even have anyone to show him to.” At the end, Janus’ eyes were fixated on the table and he was biting his lips as well as fidgeting with the paper in his hand. Logan nodded in understanding. He knew Janus was having a hard time making friends and since his cousin caught the flue, it was only getting worse.

“Thank you for sharing your concerns with me. I understand your points and I agree that in this case the rule against pets could be ignored.” Janus eyes lit up a bit but Logan kept his expression stern. “However-“ Janus eyes dimmed and he already started pouting again- “it is too much of a risk. Jake is a living creature and you cannot be sure how he would react to such an environment. If he were to get uncomfortable and escape, it would cause a lot of problems. Most people do not like snakes, he could send someone into a panic. Even if he were to be discovered without a ruckus, your teacher would still be very mad at you and me for allowing something like this. And we already do not have a great standing with the board, you know that.” Janus averted his eyes but nodded. “Lastly, imagine what would happen if Jake were discovered by those kids who are already mean to you. If they don’t immediately tell a teacher, they might just try to hurt him. As I’ve mentioned, many people do not like snakes and children can be very cruel about things they do not like. You would be putting him in danger.” Janus hummed and stopped pouting but he was still fidgeting with the paper. “You may now respond.” He was quiet for several seconds.

“Ok, maybe taking him today is a bad idea. But what if we register him as a therapy animal. Virgil said that his dads are looking for something fitting for him. Maybe if we use my vitiligo it could work?” Janus sounded hopeful and Logan hated saying no to his son but if he didn’t stand firm, no one would. Especially not Remus. He was totally weak against their son’s begging.

“I’m afraid your vitiligo doesn’t qualify. Virgil was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, which is a mental illness and that is why he gets a pet that is specifically trained to help him with it. Jake is not trained and I will not try to get him a license.” Logan reached out and took his son’s hands in his own. “I love you, Janus, and I hate to see you struggling but this is not the way to deal with the situation. Jake remains here. Thank you for a great debate but you need to get ready now.” Janus sighed but nodded. He would need to accept defeat this time. He squeezed his father’s hands before standing.

“Love you too, papa,” he said before heading back to his room.

“I will check that both snakes are in their enclosure before we leave!” Logan called after him. ‘Damn it,’ Janus thought. But as he lowered Jake back into his tank, he had another idea. His papa couldn’t check for a snake he didn’t know existed… Janus made a mental note to talk to his dad about a secret request.

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lesbianmaxevans · 3 years

Text

ok so wildmoore is being set up as The Main Romance™ theory time:

2x02

[Image Description: A gif of Ryan smiling as she says, “Hey, Soph. Love the hair.” To which Sophie responds, “It’s Agent Moore.”]

this is the first interaction we see between them. it’s immediately established they have a history, as they are on a first name basis (even if Sophie objects to this lol). their dynamic seems mildly antagonistic, more so on Sophie’s end, as Ryan is fairly playful and teasing (at least until Sophie brings up the topic of Angelique).

2x05

[Image Description: A gif of Sophie confessing to Batwoman, “Kate’s the love of my life, and I need your help to get her back.”]

Ryan is clearly affected by this confession. she strongly refutes this offer of working together initially, but Sophie admitting her love for Kate makes Ryan pause and take the idea to Luke and Mary for consideration. presumably, Ryan understands where Sophie is coming from given her history with Angelique (as we see in 2x04) which leads to this hesitance. Ryan still wants to say no (as clearly seen by her argument with with Luke & Mary), but she agrees to this one time team up after Luke confides in her about how he trusts the Crows.

[Image Description: A gif of Sophie asking, “You doing anything tomorrow night?” Batwoman responds, “You looking for a date to this thing?”]

see Ryan continuing to be somewhat playful? she must know that Sophie isn’t intending to ask her out, but she makes the joke anyway. upon Sophie’s explanation that they need someone who doesn’t have ties to the Crows to find a way into the party, Ryan realizes that working together is the best & fastest way to get the painting they both need. Ryan is still (understandably & rightfully) reluctant to work with the Crows but she agrees on the basis that Sophie is in charge of this mission. demonstrating that there’s some level of trust there from their shared history.

(also pls enjoy Sophie’s reaction at hearing that Batwoman has an ex girlfriend- idk how to caption it other than “pleasant surprise”)

2x06

then we have Sophie convincing Ryan to help her put spyware on Angelique’s phone:

“I know this was hard for you.”

“But you don’t though, because you don’t know what we’ve been through.”

“I know you’re right back in the exact same situation you already served time for, and you’re choosing to stay there. Why?”

“You’ve never been in love, huh?”

we can see that Sophie is feeling sympathetic towards Ryan, not understanding why Ryan is back with Angelique. if Sophie truly didn’t care about Ryan, there’s no reason for her to acknowledge this. she could’ve just given Ryan the file she had on Angelique and left it at that. but she sees Ryan is hurting and is apologetic for the situation.

[Image Description: A gif of Sophie being held at gunpoint and Ryan appearing to be angry towards this men as she asks, “Who are you?”]

yes, Ryan promised Jacob that she wouldn’t let Sophie die, but, uh.... the intensity of Ryan’s emotions at seeing Sophie being held at gunpoint seems a lot stronger than wanting to keep a promise.

also as @thundergrace says in this post, now Ryan knows the lengths that Sophie will go to for Kate. that Sophie will go to bat for Kate the same way she and Angelique had multiple times for each other.

[Image Description: A gif of Sophie about to turn off her recording on Angelique until she hears Ryan’s voice on the line. (also lmao self promo time: from my gifset here)]

the mission to find Ocean is over, meaning the sole purpose of getting access to Angelique’s phone is complete. Sophie has no idea of Ryan’s identity as Batwoman, and yet her curiosity gets the better of her upon realizing Angelique is meeting up with Ryan. and she decides to listen.

Sophie clearly feels guilt upon hearing that Angelique found the spyware and knows Ryan is responsible for putting it on there... and she continues to listen.

“How do I know you’re even who you say you are?”

“Because you know me! You are the only person that knows me. And I need you right now. I really need you.”

“You should have thought of that before you ratted me out.”

from their earlier interactions, Sophie knows how deeply Ryan cares for Angelique, and now she has the weight of the fact that she has shattered their relationship. Sophie’s sympathy for Ryan is clearly growing and with both of them being in such fragile positions (Sophie’s desperate search for Kate, Ryan being on her own again and knowing things w Angelique are irreparably damaged), they will likely start to soften towards each other.

#Batwoman #Sophie Moore #Ryan Wilder #wildmoore #Rachel's Batwoman thoughts #long post #yeah I did pull out ps to make my point ahsfdgfkhgjklj #Rachel's edit tag #guns /

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coldmorte · 3 years

Note

So i have some unpopular opinions; i feel like Dutch doesnt sleep around as much as people would like to think. He probably likes the fact that people think that of him, even if its not his style. Also...i dont think Dutch and Molly have any chemistry.

Howdy! (ASK 1 OF 2)

I apologize it took me some time to actually reply to this, especially because it is such a great ask! I definitely agree with both points made here, but I was debating how I wanted to write a response (and how far to take it).

Anyway, I'm open to hearing unpopular opinions! I know I have plenty of my own, so I'm not really one to judge others (as long as there is mutual respect) ☺️

My response is fairly long, and it deals with some sensitive topics. I decided to add a cut to this first ask, just to be safe! 💜💜💜

(Warning: SPOILERS below)

In regard to Dutch sleeping around, there are a few reasons why I don’t think he does it as much as it is often implied/assumed (I’m primarily limiting this to the timeframe of RDR2, Ch. 1-6).

First of all, Molly explicitly says Dutch doesn’t show her a lot of physical attention, even though he is her SO. If he’s not sleeping with her much, I doubt that he is going around with any other women at this time. He seldom leaves camp, outside of doing missions, so it is unlikely that he would meet up with anybody not in the gang. It just doesn’t seem plausible to me, as it would put him in a vulnerable position.

Dutch complains multiple times - including to Molly - that he is under stress and concerned about the Pinkertons closing in on them. Why would he go around outside the camp sleeping with random women? It would put him at the risk of being seen or reported on, and I believe he is smarter than to take on the unnecessary danger. Generally, he doesn’t spend much time in civilized areas, unless he needs to.

Not to mention, stress can be a real inhibitor of sex drive. For the entirety of the game, Dutch exhibits various degrees of anxiety and depression. I believe the gang and his personal safety were of much more concern to him, thus diminishing his interest in sex.

Speaking of the gang, I don’t personally see Dutch as sleeping around with the women in it that much. He did have a relationship with Susan in the past. Whether anything was still going on between them or not is uncertain, but if there was something, it probably was not serious or very frequent. In RDR1, he also suggests that he slept with Abigail, but if this happened, I doubt it would have occurred during the events of RDR2. They hardly ever interacted, and when Abigail did talk about Dutch, it was almost always in a negative manner. Dutch also showed some interest in Mary-Beth. However, I don’t think it went beyond flirting. She didn’t show much interest in him, and I think word would have gotten around if he tried to force anything, especially to Arthur (I am not going to discuss the events of RDR1 in any more detail here because that is a whole different conversation). But other than them, who else in the gang? There were not enough interactions with other women to suggest there was anything between them and Dutch.

Also, sex was considerably more risky in 1899 than it is today, and the means of contraception were not as dependable. For instance, The Pill didn’t go onto the market for another 60 years, and it was more difficult to get ahold of other birth control methods. This was partly because there were not as many technological advancements in this field and because there were a few laws that prevented reliable access to contraceptives (ex: The Comstock Laws). Condoms were arguably one of the easier birth control methods to find, but they still were not as widely available then as they are today (the quality was arguably not as good either). As I understand it, some searching was generally required to get ahold of condoms (usually in more civilized areas, which Dutch tried to avoid).

Dutch is a very contradictory character. My point in bringing up birth control is because although on some level I think Dutch probably would have liked to have actual children, I do not think he was serious enough about it to take any risks that might have led to an unwanted pregnancy during the timeframe of RDR2. As I mentioned, he was under a lot of stress with the gang. A biological child on top of that most likely would have overwhelmed him, and it would have required a long-term commitment to not only the child, but to the mother as well. I believe Dutch was smart enough to recognize this danger, and since birth control methods were not as widely available or reliable, he would not have wanted to sleep around too much (unwanted pregnancies were relatively common during this era).

I’ve written in the past that I believe Dutch had a certain degree of self-consciousness underneath his pride, so I do agree that he probably would have liked people finding him attractive or seductive. These traits emanate a sense of power and confidence, which would have provided a more favorable presentation of himself to others. These perceptions certainly would have helped to conceal his own self-doubts and insecurities, so he would have welcomed them, rather than try to refute them.

Now, in regard to the chemistry between Dutch and Molly, I agree. I think it was a pretty bad relationship all around. I don’t see its flaws as being entirely one-sided.

I will get into this a little more on the next ask, but I will discuss a few things here first.

Starting with Dutch, I will admit that he could have treated Molly a lot better. Even if he wasn’t happy with her or the status of their relationship, he should have seriously talked to her more. She deserved that, at the very minimum. There were a few instances where she tried to get his attention, and he just brushed her off. Again, like I said, even if he wasn’t very keen on the relationship anymore, he should have at least been honest about that. Then, as I already discussed, he had some mildly flirtatious conversations with Mary-Beth. I certainly do not think this helped matters. It was rude the way he insulted Molly for bringing up his interactions with Mary-Beth and how he pretended he had no idea what Molly was talking about.

Onto Molly, I don’t think she was perfect either. I know Dutch didn’t talk with her nearly as much as he should have, but she didn’t seem to show a whole lot of support for him in return. Dutch expressed that he was feeling stressed and not up to much physical activity, to which she got quite upset. She seemed to turn some arguments towards herself and her needs, with little regard for Dutch’s wellbeing. I do think she was selfish for demanding him to give her something he did not want to give/could not provide. Also, she refused to help the gang find leads or assist with chores, even when told to do so by others (ex: Dutch and Arthur). She tended to act above everybody else, claiming she wasn’t a servant to the needs of the gang as a whole. Though I can respect her sense of independence in that regard, it did show a sense of entitlement. Even Dutch donated to the gang funds, and as the leader, he was the one responsible for overseeing the vast majority of missions they engaged in. Molly was the only person who really did not contribute much. (Side note: Even UNCLE - the laziest bastard in the West - helped with leads and contributions!!)

I will get into this more in the following ask, but although I know she loved Dutch to an extent, I think part of her fascination with him was rooted in infatuation. Little is known about her background, but it is canon that she came from a wealthy and influential family in Ireland. I think part of the reason why she liked Dutch so much was because of the powerful position he held. She frequently lashed out at people who she perceived as challenging the reality of her “love” for him, such as Abigail and Karen. In one instance, Molly even went so far as to slap Karen across the face because she thought Karen was talking negatively about her. There was no evidence to prove or disprove Molly’s beliefs, but it did show that she was pretty sensitive about criticism (whether it was perceived or real) in regard to her relationship with Dutch.

Now, Dutch was wrong to use Molly’s fascination with him and his role in the gang to seduce her. But like I said, both of them had their issues. It was just a bad situation from both sides, and I do not think it should have happened in the first place. I don’t necessarily blame one more than the other. To be honest, I think they each deserved someone who fit them better.

And if I am being even MORE honest, I think Dutch should have stayed with Susan. She loved him, and he made a big mistake in ever giving her up. I believe the events of RDR2 would have turned out very differently, had he kept her closer.

(Ending note: Outside of serious posts - like this one - I know I make quite a few jokes about Dutch on my blog in regard to sexuality, but I do not mean for much of what I say in that regard to be taken *too* seriously. I don’t particularly want to discuss my personal life in the text of this post, but I will say that even if Dutch was a person I knew in real life, I’m not sure I would seriously want anything to happen between us. However, that is another matter entirely that has nothing whatsoever to do with him. I absolutely LOVE his character to death, and my blog will remain dedicated to his role in the RDR story for as long as I am around! That is all that should matter!!!)

Also, it is perfectly fine and normal to separate fiction from reality! It is okay to alter interpretations of Dutch (and/or Molly) for the sake of artistic expression, as long as the reasons can be justified. Furthermore, it is fine to disagree with me!!

I just hope this response gave you a thing or two to consider. Thank you again for sending your message in!! 💜💜💜

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firelxdykatara · 4 years

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um not to start anything “zuko had everything handed to him by the end of the show even though it took him until nearly the very end to realize he’s wrong: a country, a crown, his girlfriend that HE left behind, the love of his uncle that zuko spent most of the show yelling at and being a dick to, and that’s why he just doesn’t deserve ANYWAY I’M JOKING but this is how y’all be talking about aang” who even talks about aang this why????

It sounds to me like some Aang stans grossly misunderstand criticisms surrounding the writing of Aang’s arc in book 3, in particular during the finale.

This is actually a pattern I’ve noticed with distressing frequency, particularly of late: any criticism of Aang at all--of his actions, the narrative scaffolding surrounding them (never having to apologize for kissing Katara without her consent, for example), or of the failings in the way his narrative was handled (in book 3 especially)--is written off as hate and derided by stans who I can only assume believe that the writing of his character arc was perfect and he never did anything wrong that deserves fair criticism ever in his life.

To this, I can only state my firm disagreement.

The thing is, they don’t really have any counter arguments to refute the points that actually get made (which isn’t to say there aren’t bad faith criticisms of his character just like everyone else, but unlike most of the cast, ppl seem far more inclined to act like there are no valid criticisms of his character or his writing), which is likely why they just write it all off as unfounded hatred of their precious bean fave and ignore it accordingly. But that doesn’t, like, make the issues with his writing, or with book 3 as a whole, go away, and the fact that they refuse to engage with good faith criticism (and, in fact, often refuse to engage with criticism at all by pretending there’s no foundation for any of it--I’ve actually seen people try to justify Aang’s actions in, for example, Bato of the Water Tribe by insisting that Sokka and Katara were actually worse and that Aang lying to them shouldn’t be held against him because they were Mean About It which.... yeah I could go off for days about that alone) says more about their lack of actual engagement with the text of the show than it does about the people who are criticizing his character.

The things that we say were handed to Aang--the deus ex lionturtle (which gave him energybending), the Rock of Destiny (aka the thing that gave him back the Avatar State without having to even attempt to do the work to unblock his chakras again himself), and Katara, presented to him as the prize he’d won at the very end of the show--are things that he did not do the work to actually earn.

Which will probably get some peoples’ backs up, so let me rephrase--the narrative did not put in the work to show how he actually earned these things, preferring to waste time with pointless filler in the front half of the season and then only bring up problems and then solve them within the four episode finale because they left no more room for these very plot critical points earlier in the show. Take Aang’s unwillingness to kill Ozai, for example--this is something that absolutely should have come up far earlier in the season (prior to the invasion at least), and the fact that it didn’t says two things: one, that because the writers knew Aang wasn’t actually going to face Ozai during the eclipse, they didn’t think it mattered to follow through on what Aang planned to do if the invasion had been successful; and two, his sudden clinging to his people’s pacifism seems directly at odds with where the entire narrative of the show had been headed to that point. Why is he suddenly insisting he’s the consummate pacifist when we’ve seen evidence in the show of not only Aang reacting in violence and vengeance (towards the sandbenders, and that wasp he killed), but also evidence that Air Nomads were not the sort of pacifists who would roll over and just let someone commit genocide (the fire nation corpses surrounding Monk Gyatso, clear evidence [which Aang never seems to so much as consider at any point during the series, despite the fact that it could have been a point of much-needed growth and maturation, or at least examining his own people’s beliefs and realizing that, at twelve, he had a flawed and incomplete understanding of his own culture] that even Aang’s mentor was willing to kill in order to protect his home and his people)? Why, if he’s so damn pacifistic, did he never seem to consider with guilt any of the lives he took while in the Avatar state and fused with the Ocean Spirit?

And no, by the way, I’m not saying he’s to blame for the deaths Koizilla caused, but I am saying that it doesn’t make sense that he feels no remorse over all of that blood. Particularly since we see that he considers actions taken while in the Avatar State to be his own--he feels guilty when he goes into the AS and scares his friends, and he very specifically removes himself from the AS to avoid killing Ozai, which tells me that he does consider the AS’ actions to be his own. And if all life is sacred to him to the point where he won’t even eat meat (although Air Nomad vegetarianism makes no sense, but that’s another rant entirely) why doesn’t he so much as mourn for the lives lost during the attack?

These are all questions which the narrative itself never considered, and it’s frustrating because many of them are questions which should have been asked--and answered, or at least attempted--in the course of the final act of Aang’s character arc. He had a great set up going into the third book, with Monk Gyatso’s teachings filling in some of the blanks in Aang’s (again, flawed and incomplete--I challenge anyone to try telling me that if they were completely removed from their culture at age twelve, and it was subsequently wiped completely from the face of the earth, that they’d have anything close to a deep and nuanced understanding of it; twelve-year-olds don’t have a deep and nuanced understanding of anything, nevermind an entire culture and worldview, which is why Aang kept parroting soundbytes from the monks without actually understanding them) understanding of Air Nomad beliefs, but this thread was completely dropped in favor of... I’m still not sure, honestly.

Was Aang running away from his problems and effectively lying to his friends (does he ever actually come clean about being completely unable to access the Avatar State of his own volition?) more important than going back to the Guru, or at least his teachings, and coming to understand his own culture? Where was his arc of regaining the Avatar State because he worked for it, because he tried to re-open his chakras and, for example, came to understand what letting go of his attachment to Katara really means? (That’s actually one of the most frustrating bits, because a) he gets to have his possessive and unhealthy attachment to Katara and get the Avatar State back, despite paying lipservice to letting her go at the end of book 2; and b) he never seems to get what ‘attachment’ the Guru was actually referring to--letting go of Katara doesn’t mean he had to stop caring about or even loving her, but it does mean he was supposed to give up his selfish and possessive attachment to her, which means no nodding when some actor in a play calls fake!Katara ‘the Avatar’s girl’ and no assuming they were supposed to be in a romantic relationship despite never actually asking about her feelings and no kissing her without her consent just because he wanted her to feel the same way about him and didn’t care whether or not she actually did [otherwise he would have asked, and he never once even tried].)

Instead, rather than having a season-long arc of re-navigating his chakras, opening them, and regaining the Avatar State under his own power, he gets thrown against a well-placed rock which does all the work for him at the very last second. Energybending, which wasn’t even thought of as a possibility earlier in the season, rather than being a concept he comes to discover on his own as he navigates his chakras for a second time and comes to understand the how the energy flows between each one, is likewise just given to him by a third party, with no work necessary on his part. And as for Katara, well, I’ve ranted at length about that in the past, but their last one-on-one interaction before the epilogue is when Aang kisses her without her consent, and she gets pissed off about it and storms off. There is nothing to bridge the gap between that and make-out city, nothing at any point indicating Katara’s feelings (because, as far as Kataang was concerned, her feelings never mattered) and how they were changing, no apology from Aang for violating her boundaries, no understanding of what he did wrong and why it was wrong. Nothing. Not a single conversation.

That is why we say that Katara was handed to him like a trophy. Because she was. Kataang was endgame not because it made any sense for Katara, but because Aang was the hero, and he saved the day, and he deserved to get his forever girl on top of it. There was never any real attempt to broach Katara’s feelings on the matter--she’s never shown reflecting on their pre-invasion kiss (in fact, by all appearances she completely forgot it even happened), and she is never once asked what her feelings are, not by Aang or the narrative--because, at the end of the day, they didn’t matter. Aang was getting the girl he wanted, and that was that.

We say that Aang was handed these things without working for them because the entire narrative of book three seemed particularly engineered to making sure he didn’t have to. Zuko, meanwhile, had to work for everything he achieved--the gaang’s trust, Katara’s in particular, his crown and his kingdom. (No, he didn’t particularly work to get Mai back, but that’s a whole other discussion, and he would’ve been much better off if she never showed up again after TBR.) He didn’t get to take any shortcuts. Aang’s arc is all shortcuts, at least in book 3, and that’s when they attempted to show how he got from point a to point b at all.

Anyway, the situations couldn’t possibly be any more different, and idk who said that but whomever it is clearly does not understand where the criticisms about Aang and his hamstringed book 3 arc are coming from.

#atla #aang critical #atla critical #kataang salt #salt for ts #asked #Anonymous

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years

Text

Getting to Know You

Jalice Week 2020 Day 3: Cannon Gapfillers

Pairing: Jasper/Alice

Rating: K+

Summary: In the hours after their first meeting, Jasper and Alice get to know each other

Disclaimer: I’m not making any money from this nor do I own anything recognizable

Word Count: 1489

Warnings: Brief mentions of violence

Rain sputters against the window, causing the rickety old shutters to groan under its force. Despite the chill, the fireplace on the edge of the room remains unlit, the cold not affecting the two vampires occupying the room.

Alice perches on the edge of the bed, legs crossed delicately, gazing at her counterpart with fondness in her eyes. Jasper stands across the room, looking upon the small woman with hesitation and uncertainty.

They’ve been like this for twenty minutes, and Alice is about to break. Laughter pushes past her lips and she dissolves into giggles.

“You don’t have to stand so far away, you know. I don’t bite.” And although her tone is light, her words carry truth. With her visions to guide her, Alice stayed safely north, far away from the horrific vampire wars of the South. She never had to experience the carnage, the distrust, the terror.

Jasper did.

In fact, for the first many decades of his new life, it was all he knew.

So while she wishes he would collapse in her arms and allow himself to be held by her, she gives him his space. After all, only one of them has been in love with the other for the past twenty-eight years.

The blond vampire tucks his hands into his pockets, lifting his eyes to look into hers. There’s a measure of honesty there that catches her off guard. “I can tell.”

Alice scrunches her face in confusion. He has no reason to trust her words…so why would he accept them so easily, if not because he loves her too?

Her hope flares.

Jasper smiles hesitantly then, and it’s the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen. “I have a gift of my own. I can feel people’s emotions.”

Alice wonders if she should feel embarrassed. For anyone else, the subject of your affections discovering your unrequited love would be completely humiliating. But for her, it brings a sort of comfort and excitement. He knows she loves him, and he’s not running away.

A small smile spreads across Alice’s face. “Well, then, I guess you already know quite a bit about me.”

“Not as much as you know about me,” he counters, deciding momentarily to take a step in her direction, then choosing against making the movement. When he feels Alice’s disappointment, he can’t help but grin. “Sorry.”

But Alice just shrugs, retaining her usual positive nature. “You won’t stay over there much longer. I can wait.”

Again, a warm feeling spreads through him at her certainty. He takes a small step forward, very much enjoying her spike of happiness.

It’s been so long since he’s made someone happy.

Still beaming, Alice brings the conversation back to their previous topic. “So does it bother you that I know so much about you and you’ve only just met me?”

Jasper sees no point in lying. “Some. But if everything goes as you say it will—” at this, he can’t help but throw her a teasing look, “I’m guessing I’ll get to know you in time.”

Alice scoots further back onto the bed, her back hitting the wall. She pats the spot in front of her. “We have a lot of time right now.”

Jasper hesitates, mentally running through all the reasons he should not join Alice on the bed. But Alice rolls her eyes, foreseeing each of his arguments and refuting them in kind.

“The bed is not too small, you know I’m not going to hurt you, and there’s no one around to care about propriety.”

The last argument though, gives her pause. Her eyes soften, and she extends a hand out invitingly, the picture of vulnerability and openness. Her emotions betray no fear, like he would expect. Because really, she should be terrified of him.

“You’re not going to hurt me, Jasper. That’s not who you are.”

Like before, he feels her complete certainty. She believes this as fact. But how can she, he wonders, when the evidence of my violence is displayed so clearly all over my body?

But she remains steadfast in her belief of his goodness, and he vows right then and there to strive to meet those expectations. For all eternity.

With blank eyes, she sees his choice, then breaks free from her vision, radiating pure joy. Jasper gives in to her emotions, her presence, and his own desires, and walks slowly to sit with her on the bed.

Smiling smugly, Alice tilts her head to the side. “What do you want to know?”

Although he already has a guess, Jasper starts with the obvious—how she knew to find him—and she confirms his hunch, though adds a detail he wasn’t expecting.

“You were the first thing I saw,” she states simply. “When I woke up alone, I had no idea where I was, who I was, or what had happened to me. But I saw your face, and your smile, and felt security like I’d never felt before, and I knew one day, it would all be okay. And it was you, the exact scene of you that I saw earlier in the diner. Ruffled blue shirt, hair the color of honey, and different like me.” She pauses, looking down at her hands for a moment, indecision waging within her. Finally, the words escape her lips, so quiet that Jasper has to concentrate to hear. “It was you that helped me not be so afraid of myself, in the beginning. I thought, if such a good man is like me, then what’s there to be afraid of?”

Her confession floors Jasper, who swallows thickly. Her conclusion was wildly incorrect—how could a monster like him and a kind ray of sunshine like her ever be comparable—but the fact that she found comfort in him of all things…it stirs something in his heart he thought burned away long ago. The emotion is a little debilitating, and he quickly tries to steer the conversation to a safer topic.

“How did you escape The Volturi’s notice if you had no one to guide you? Newborns aren’t exactly known for their self-control…” At the reminder of his not-so-distant past, he holds back a flinch.

But Alice remains unbothered, continuing easily. “My visions. The thirst was definitely strong, overwhelming, even. But any time I decided to act on killing someone, a vision would warn me that it would lead to my death. I eventually figured out that I could avoid those results if I was discrete, so I learned to hunt farther from town and bury my food when I was done with it. Once I knew the rules, the thirst became a lot easier to navigate.”

She sees his next question, and smiles. “Yes, it’s the same reason I knew to stick to the northern part of the continent. I didn’t exactly know what was going on, but I knew my presence in the South would result in my death.”

The image of Alice, delicate, sweet Alice, caught up in the wars for territory causes him to clench his jaw against a snarl.

Then, the image of dismembering and burning Alice, as he would have done without question, causes him to hang his head in shame.

Alice places a gentle hand on his shoulder, and it takes everything in him not to flinch away. He doesn’t want to hurt her like that.

“What is it?”

Through his self-loathing, he forces himself to speak. After all, she has a right to know who she’s comforting. “I was imagining you fighting in the wars…and I know I would have killed you.” Again, he clenches his jaw, feeling crushed under his shame and despair.

Alice surprises him by shaking her head. “If I had met you then, yes, you probably would’ve killed me. But if I didn’t have my visions,” she continues, louder now to speak over his anguished groan, “I would have been killed anyway. Or ran into you down the road and tried to kill you. Or never even met you at all. Or a thousand other outcomes.” When he refuses to look at her, she takes his chin, lifting it up so he has to confront her eyes. “Jasper, we are only together because of crazy, impossible, specific circumstances. In any other reality, we wouldn’t have found each other, but in this one, we have! Can’t we just celebrate our miracle?”

And when he looks at her, really looks at her, and allows her hope and happiness and certainty to wash over him, he can allow himself to relax. For once, he turns off the part of his brain that constantly cycles through the what-ifs and allows himself to be fully in the moment with this woman who, four hours ago, was a complete stranger.

So with a smile, he takes Alice’s hand in his. “I can do that.”

And they continue getting to know each other.

Be sure to check out my masterlist :)

#jaliceweek20 #jalice #jalice fanfic #jalice week 20 #alice cullen #jasper cullen #jasper hale #jasper whitlock hale #alice x jasper #jasper x alice #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight renaissance #twilight cannon #twilight cannon gapfiller #jalice fanfiction #1940s twilight

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jackalgirl · 3 years

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Archive.org (the Brouhaha, recapped)

There’s been a post going around about archive.org, and a suit against it by four large publishers. And there’s a lot -- I mean a lot -- of hyperbole going on about it.

I had a very constructive conversation here with @helenisfair (I had in fact bought into some of that hyperbole) and wanted to recap what I learned so far (I have more research to do). Be warned: it is very long.

Claim #1: the Internet Archive scans copyrighted books and makes them available to everyone, which is illegal and robs publishers of revenue, and if the publishers are robbed of revenue, so are the authors. Ergo, the Internet Archives is pirating authors’ works.

This claim plays on what it means to “make available,” and is strongly implying that this means unlimited digital copies of a physical book available for anyone to download and possess, always and forever. It would be like me buying a book, then making 10 photocopies of it, and giving those photocopies to my friends (or worse, selling them).

This is not really true (but in the case of the lawsuit, it is kinda true, see below).

The Internet Archive claims to function like a library. What this means is that, like a library, it buys or acquires (e.g., by donation) books. It does scan them and make them available online, and this does include books that are under copyright. Now here’s the part I don’t know yet: I don’t know if the Archive has a brick-and-mortar location where you can go and check out physical books. I am operating under the pretense (for the moment until I know for sure) that it does not. Therefore (again, I presume), it is not possible for the physical copy of a book and its digital copy to be loaned out at the same time.

Once the Archive has this scanned copy, it lends that copy out to readers using something called “Controlled Digital Lending”. For example: if you have an IA account, you can “check out” the scanned copy into your account’s loan list for one or 14 days. You can then read this book online, via web-enabled reading. You can return it at any time, or, once your lending time is up, the file is released from your loan list and is now available for someone else to check out.

It is also possible, if you have the proper Adobe application, to download an encrypted ePub or ereader version of the book. This allows people manipulate the display more appropriately for their needs. I think that the function of this Adobe software is the same thing as the web-reader: after the loan time, it removes the file from your device and (presumably) notifies the IA that the book is free to check out again. (I say “think” and “presumably” because I have not yet researched how the actual mechanics of this software work.)

The function of this is to ensure that extra copies of the book are not generated: one digital copy per physical book in the possession of the Archive (unless the book is no longer under copyright, that is), available to one person at a time. So, under the “lending libraries should be allowed” presumption: no revenue is being lost, no author is losing money.

Claim #2: The Internet Archive is doing exactly what libraries do with their eBooks!

Well, no. As I understand it, libraries license the digital copies of books from the publishers. So they do pay. What they get for paying is a number of digital copies that they can lend out that way -- entirely separate from any physical copies in their collection.

Claim #3: The Internet Archive made unlimited copies of millions of books under copyright available, and that’s why they’re being sued.

Well, actually the lawsuit only alleges 127 specific titles, to the “millions of books!” statement is an example of that hyperbole I mentioned earlier. But if you’re a fan of writers being compensated for their work (which I am), it’s not the quantity of books being “stolen” that is an issue. It’s the fact that unauthorized copies were available which could have, if they had been authorized, generated income for the original authors (or their estates).

And note my earlier statement about the idea of “copy”. It was not unlimited copies, as in “files I can download to my computer and have forever”. It was “multiple people potentially accessing the same digital copy of a physical book.”

So what actually did happen?

Well, during the COVID-19 pandemic, many libraries were closed -- or otherwise inaccessible to people with health limitations and/or concerns. People were trapped at home, with no access to libraries. So what the Internet Archive did was remove the 1:1 lending limitation for books in their library, calling it the “National Emergency Library” (it’s still not 100% clear to me whether this was all of the books in their holdings, or just some of them). This meant that for every physical copy of a book, there could theoretically be an unlimited number of digital copies checked out at one time (again, though, no one would get to keep their copy).

Apparently, the Archive had an “opt-out” option, wherein a publisher could notify the Archive that they didn’t want a book included in the “National Emergency Library” offering. I don’t know if the publishers could say “nothing from us”, or whether they’d have to fill out the “opt-out” form or whatever for each individual title.

Personally, and this is just me here, I do not particularly like “opt-out” options. If I’m going to take something from you, or collect something from you, or otherwise benefit from you, I think it is fundamentally shady for me to just start doing it and saying “but you can always opt out if you jump through these hoops”. I think the Archive would have been better served by sending notification to the publishers that they were going to do this thing for the benefit of people during this emergency, and ask them to opt-in, and not "unlocked” the affected books under copyright until they had done so.

Anyway, the publishers (Hachette, Penguin Random House, HarperCollins, and Wiley, for the record) filed suit against the Archive for copyright infringement, at which point the Archive stopped the “National Emergency Library”. As of this writing, the Internet Archive is back to what it was: 1:1 lending of the digital copy of a physical book in its possession (I think).

Claim #3: The Internet Archive did nothing wrong -- all of this is covered under “Fair Use”

That’s what IA is claiming in its response to the lawsuit. However, this may not be a very strong argument. The Mass Law Blog provides an analysis of this argument and concludes that the claim fails to meet most of the required prongs, or elements, of Fair Use doctrine (again many thanks to @helenisfair, who provided the link to this article).

Claim #4: By suing the Internet Archive, these publishers are trying to bring an end to the lending of books!

This is a claim made indirectly -- by refutation -- on the IA’s blog: “Copyright Expert on Publishers Lawsuit: 'The idea that lending a book is illegal is just wrong'”. Well, I can imagine a world in which publishers would, indeed, prefer to be paid for every time the contents of a book entered a reader’s brain. However, it’s my understanding this lawsuit is much more narrow -- it’s about unauthorized copies, which (if correct) would make this claim is a strawman.

Claim #5: This lawsuit will utterly destroy the Archive, and thus remove a lot of material from being available, including its archive of US political shenanigans (particularly from 2016-2020), which if lost, will impact people’s ability to fact-check said shenanigans.

This may very well be true, and it’s a concern. There is a lot of material there that would benefit future historians (or any current people who are interested in fact-checking and primary research), and to lose it would be a tremendous loss (though it would absolutely benefit certain persons’ ability to continue to create “alternate truth”).

End conclusion: I personally think that, if multiple people had access to the same digital scan of a copyrighted book during the National Emergency Library period that yes, the IA did infringe on the copyright, and they absolutely should be held accountable. I do not feel that the ends (helping out people during the pandemic) justified the means (essentially stealing from publishers and, by extension, the authors). I feel all of this could have been avoided via an opt-in system. I am also perturbed and annoyed by the hyperbole being utilized by the Internet Archive itself -- it has the feeling of handwaving, slippery-slope, and catastrophic-thinking arguments, to distract people from the issue at hand: did the Internet Archive make unauthorized copies of books available to its users?

I hope that the Archive can settle with the publishers for any actual copyright infringements that occurred, if they occurred. I think we’ll have to wait for discovery to find out how many of the 127 titles were checked out by more than one person at a time during the “National Emergency Library”, but even one infringement could be pretty hefty (see the Mass Law Blog article for penalties).

I personally feel that the Archive is incredibly useful, especially because it gives me the ability to access some very old manuscripts, and also books that -- while still in copyright -- still haven’t been digitized by their publishers. For example: “The Architect of Sleep”, by Stephen R. Boyett, is an absolutely excellent book about a guy who falls through some kind of multi-words rift and ends up in a Florida in which the dominant, sentient form of life is a bunch of really large, upright-walking, sign-language-using raccoons. This sounds like an absolutely ridiculous premise, but dear reader, the book is fantastic and well worth the read. It is also out of print, not available as an eBook, and is contained within the collection of the Internet Archive, so if I have intrigued you but you don’t want to pay for a used copy, you can go check it out online.

Likewise, I’d really like it if the ability to access the Wayback Machine, and also to fact check shenanigans, were as readily available in the future as they are now. In short, I would hate to lose the Internet Archive, and will continue to support them (provisionally; I sure hope they don’t try to pull another “opt-out” stunt in the future). If you’d like to do so as well, there’s a donate button on their main website at archive.org.

#internet archive #controlled digital lending #lawsuit

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dialovers-translations · 4 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Laito Ecstasy [Prologue]

Monologue

ーー I don’t like how,

people try and read into me.

In my own way, I am trying to understand reality as is,

even though that is all I ever intended,

So being told that I am hurt,

really grinds my gears.

If that is truly the case,

I absolutely refuse to admit defeat,

until they can refute my arguments.

Most likely, that is impossible,

to humans and humanoid creatures such as ourselves,

who possess a mind of their own.

If that is the trigger for causing us pain,

then that is simply too shallow-minded.

Even if said person,

were to be my very own blood-related brother,

there are some things which simply cannot be forgiven.

ー The scene starts with a flashback in the living room

*THUD*

Laito: ...What are you trying to say? Calling me a liar...?

Ayato: Exactly like I said. Even though you don’t actually feel that way...

Claimin’ you ‘love’ that dirty whore or that you’re having fun...They’re all lies, right!? Stop fuckin’ ‘round!

Laito: ...You might be unable of understanding this, Ayato-kun, but it is the truth. It is enjoyable to me. Furthermore...

She loves me too, you know?

Ayato: Bullshit!

Laito: Why are you trying to deny everything? Ayato-kun...Could you perhaps be jealous of me~? Nfu~

Ayato: Haah? You bastard...Try sayin’ that one more time!

Laito: I’ll repeat myself as many times as needed. You are jealous of me, Ayato-kun.

*THUD*

Ayato: Fuck...You’re makin’ me gag!

*THUD*

Ayato: It’s time to wake up and face reality already! Whether it’s, you, me or even Kanato...None of us are loved even in the slightest!!

...You’re well aware of that, aren’t you...!?

Laito: Nfu~ ...You’re still a kid, Ayato-kun. ...You don’t understand a thing.

Ayato: ...!

Laito: Don’t bring this up to me again, okay? It’s pointless anyway? We’d never come to a mutual agreement anyway.

ー Laito leaves

Ayato: Oi, wait! I’m not done talki...!

ー The scene shifts to Laito’s bedroom

Laito: ( ...Ayato-kun needs to stop meddling with other people’s affairs...It’s annoying... )

( I know that he has his own reasons, but the two of us are different. )

( You, and Kanato-kun as well...We’re all different... )

Butler: Laito-sama...

Laito: ...Gramps...What’s the matter?

Butler: Cordelia-sama has summoned you.

Laito: ...Understood. I’ll go.

( I am enjoying this situation. I mean, it’s irresistable, isn’t it? )

( I get to enjoy a time of pure bliss which nothing can surpass...This is what ‘love’ means in my eyes. )

( Simply living in the moment and enjoying each second as it happens, without having to be special and with no strings attached could only be called ‘love’, right? )

( Assuming that I only think like that because I’m hurting is just ridiculous... )

( It is very much laughable. Ayato-kun. )

ー The flashback ends

Laito: Fuck...My body is really...selfish...isn’t it...? Haah...

Why does it...crave for Bitch-chan this strongly...!? Tell me...?

Haah...My throat’s parched...I feel like I’m about to lose my mind...

Why does it...have to be that girl...? My body wants her...Haah...

The body is the most honest of all, right...? Yet...

There is just no way...she actually is special to me...Kuh...Haah...This is no good...

At this rate, I might just die from starvation...Haah...

ー The scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: ( I can hear a voice...I wonder if Laito-kun’s okay...? )

( I’m worried...However, if I rush to his side now, I’ll make him go crazy again... )

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi. Whatcha doin’ over here?

Yui: Ayato-kun...I’m somewhat worried about Laito-kun.

Ayato: Che. Annoyin’. Just leave that guy be.

Yui: But...

Ayato: He’s always been like that. When there’s something he refuses to admit, he rejects it.

Yui: Something he doesn’t want to admit...?

Ayato: Yeah. He’s pretty stubborn, you know?

Yui: ...Could it be, has he rejected you before as well...?

Ayato: Keh! Left and right! His pride is through the roof, so even if he knows the other person’s right, he won’t acknowledge it.

Yui: I kind of understand what you mean.

Ayato: ...It’s lame, don’t you think?

Yui: ( ...Actually, I think that applies to everyone living in this manor... )

Laito: Shut up! If you want to talk...do it somewhere else!

Ayato: Oh fuck. Oi, Chichinashi, don’t go runnin’ your mouth to him, ‘kay?

ー Ayato leaves

Yui: ( ...For some reason, I feel like I understand Laito-kun a little better. )

( I wonder what it is he refuses to admit...? )

( It definitely is difficult to admit to something you don’t actually want to acknowledge... )

( Even when it’s about yourself, being honest about your own desires is tricky. )

( Just speaking the words is so easy but...your feelings can’t catch up. )

( That might be exactly what Laito-kun is struggling with... )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the school library

Kou: Heya~! How have you been, M-neko-chan?

Yui: Ah. Kou-kun...It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

Kou: Yeah. I’ve been pretty busy with my idol work as well, you see? ...How’s that guy coping?

Yui: That guy...You mean Laito-kun? Lately he’s been somewhat off...

Kou: I see, just as I thought. ーー I figured this was what would happen.

Yui: Eh? ...Kou-kun, do you know something more?

Kou: Hmm, I think it might be a pretty good thing for you? ...Things are going in the right direction, at the very least.

Yui: What do you mean?

Kou: ...Say.

ー Kou suddenly embraces her

*Rustle*

Yui: ...What?

Kou: Shouldn’t you be a little more surprised? So what’s the deal? You’ve gotten so used to this kinda stuff, your senses are numbed?

Yui: T-That’s not true but...

Kou: Don’t tell me you trust me? Fufu. In that case, you are a little fool, M-neko-chan.

ー Kou kisses her

Yui: Nn...!?

Kou: ...

*Smooch*

Yui: ( A kiss...!? Eh? Why!? )

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Kou-kun...!?

Kou: ...Do you really need to look that displeased...? I’m gonna get mad, you know?

Yui: Why do you do this!?

Kou: Isn’t that obvious? I should have the right to as well.

Yui: Right...?

Kou: You don’t need to know that right now. All you need to do...is allow me to suck your blood like this...

*Rustle*

Yui: No...I don’t want this...!

Kou: ...Nn...Nn...Aah...Just as I thought...It’s delicious...Haah...

Yui: ( ...Why is he doing this...!? )

Kou: I should have done this sooner. ...Fufufu...I’m this mess because I tried to play the good guy...Nn.

Yui: Stop...!

ー She pushes him away

*Thud*

Kou: Kuh...

Yui: How could you...! Doing this all of a sudden...

Kou: ...Who do you think I am? You know that I only approached you because I had a clear goal in mind, right!?

Yui: ...

ー Yui runs away to the hallway

Yui: ...

( Why did Kou-kun do such a thing out of the blue!? )

( Also, it seems like he knows something about why Laito-kun has been acting odd as well... )

( Did Kou-kun and his brothers do something perhaps...? )

ー The scene shifts to the stairway

Laito: Nfu...What’s with the rush, Bitch-chan...~?

Yui: ...!? Laito-kun!?

Why...? I thought you skipped school...?

Laito: Why I’m here? I felt like I was going to lose it when I stayed at home...

By stepping outside, I can at least distract myself, you see.

Yui: ( What to do...? Why at this exact timing...? )

Laito: Say, Bitch-chan...Won’t you come to me today?

Yui: B..Because lately...You’ve been telling me to stay away...

Laito: I have...However...Hm?

ー Laito moves closer

*Rustle*

Laito: What is this scent...?

Yui: ...!

Laito: You smell...of another Vampire.

Yui: Well...

Laito: ...!

Yui: ( ...Did Laito-kun seem hurt for a second just now...? )

Laito: I see...So that’s how it is...This is his scent, isn’t it?

Yui: ...K-Kou-kun suddenly attacked me earlier and...

...I fought back but...

Laito: Kuku...Nfu...~

Yui: Laito-kun...?

Laito: So, did it feel good?

Yui: It didn’t...

Laito: Nfu~ ...Haah...Honestly, this all just seems ridiculous now...

Yui: Laito-ku...

Laito: Stay away.

Yui: !!

Laito: If you approach me now, I feel like this time I might just actually suck you dry until you die...Nfu~

That guy will give you exactly what you want...So don’t rely on me, okay?

Nfu~ ...Aah...I almost got deceived little by little...That was a close call...

Yui: ...Laito-kun...!

Laito: See you, Bitch-chanーー

Yui: Wait...!!

ー Laito leaves

Monologue

‘I almost got deceived little by little.’

I wonder what he meant with those final words?

Perhaps he had been making an effort at taking a step forward,

towards trying to understand how I feel?

All sorts of self-serving (1) thoughts flash through my mind.

What should I say to make him stop in his tracks?

I am unable to find the answer, simply standing there frozen on the spot.

As I remember Laito-kun’s vaguely hurt expression,

I am overcome by a sense of despairーー

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Literally it says ‘thoughts which are convenient to myself’. I assume it means that she interprets his words in a way which would justify that Laito has indeed been trying to understand her and her concept of love.

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Maniac Epilogue ] [ Ecstasy 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #laito sakamaki #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mblaitoecstasyprolog

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little-ideas · 4 years

Text

Mankai Dumbasses

THIS IS ALL I’VE GOT FOR NOW BUT THESE MORONS ARE SO FUCKING FUNNY!!! 🤣 Their dynamic is glorious. Keep at it you fools ❤

These assholes are dense as fuck and almost don't get together. Almost

Taichi has definitely complained about the tension between these 2 multiple times

It's a miracle he hasn't just shouted it at them, but he's probably scared of what the 2 of them would do

Omi has a surprising mean/playful streak and there's no guarantee he'd intervene on Taichi's behalf

Sakyo won't step in unless things get bad

The handcuffs have happened more than once

It's never any more pleasant these later times. They may notice some weird feelings/reactions -they just think it's their disdain for one another Fucking morons

Sakoda has taught Banri some techniques for when he tries to engage in physical fights with Juza. Juza always wins anyway

Izumi and Sakyo question their rooming of the two all the time

However, they are pretty respectful of each others' stuff

This is mostly from a bad experience whereupon the 2 made a truce

The truce ONLY applies to their possessions

Banri draws dicks on Juza's scripts

It doesn't matter what they say, their families (sans Kumon) only see them as best friends. They've met the other's parents after a show, and now Banri's parents and sister give Juza their regards whenever Banri calls them

Juza and Kumon will end up bringing back extra sweets for Banri from their mother.

For all the shit Banri gave Juza about his motorcycle, he loves to ride on it

Juza is probably one of the safest/most cautious drivers in Mankai

The two have definitely had the cops called on them when riding together though

May have raced each other once or twice

Omi oversaw it might have even suggested the location so they don't get caught

It was because of Sakoda's encouragement and he wanted them to be safe

Juza has strawberry flavored toothpaste and Banri won't shut up about it

The two got banned from the kitchen once when Juza wanted to make sweets and Banri decided to prove he was better. They ended up with ingredients everywhere. No one ever saw Omi angry before then. If the two don't have someone else around, they're required to cook in different kitchens.

Banri is a petty bastard who holds grudges

Juza is quick to forgive everyone BUT Banri

They have logs where they chronicle what the other's done to bother them this time

Izumi made them get rid of them when she found out

Banri still keeps one and eventually entries start including things like "He looks almost as good as I do when he smiles and "I keep challenging him to fights but am still losing" + something about Juza's muscles

Have had competitions where they try to out-romance the other, claiming they'd be the better partner

Only stopped because the entirety of Summer Troupe yelled at them to "get a room"

That anime where the students try to scientifically figure out what love is? That was them

They now have some results + feelings to think over

For all their bickering, when the other is truly down, they can tell and will leave the other alone or awkwardly try to do something nice

As their feelings develop, they'll start doing nice things for each other

Juza leaves Banri some sweets (he still refuses the kamebuns) or pick him up from school

Banri helps Juza study

Izumi makes them do tons of trust/partner exercises

They either nail or fail them. There is no in-between

Banri tried to get Juza to unsuspectingly eat wasabi kitkats, but failed because Juza could immediately tell what kind it was by the color

Muku, Sakyo, and Omi get involved with Juza's figuring out his feelings

Muku is flustered but holds it in since it's Juza

Omi is supportive and listens

Sakyo doesn't understand why Muku insisted he be present, but he is and listens

The one who flat out identifies Juza's feelings as romantic

Banri is more stubborn and it's not until his sister or Itaru say something that he confronts his feelings

Juza might wait around forever, but Banri doesn't, so as soon as he's come to terms with his feelings, he approaches Juza

Probably looks pissed off as hell and Juza prepares to fight him

Nope. Just Banri bitching about what Juza does to him and demanding he kiss him "I'll punch you on the lips with my lips!"

Once they're an item, the dorm grows to fear any argument containing the phases:

Oh yeah?

Prove it

Make me

Shut up

What are you going to do about it?

I hate your fucking face

Stop being so goddamn hot

Basically anything that involves the 2 yelling at each other

Because it always ends with them making out

Unless they start when Muku or Kumon are in the room -Juza has enough self-awareness around family

Kumon is so conflicted when Banri and Juza reveal they're a couple

Kumon's probably the only one who's shocked at the news

Azuma, Yuki, and Citron win the betting pool

OMI SITS THEM DOWN FOR THE TALK™ AND RESPECTING THE SURROUNDING DORM ROOMS Poor Taichi

Juza's so red. So is Banri but he kind of finds it funny

Banri is whipped for Juza

Will still tease Juza for his love of sweets, but definitely didn't spend hours watching videos and reading recipes to make and decorate a cake for him. Of course not

If Banri is somehow still receiving Valentine's chocolates, will give them all to Juza

Juza purposefully picks out some of the most gaudy attire for Banri and he always loves it wtf Banri

At this point Juza's taken it as a personal challenge to find something even Banri won't wear

Juza doesn't wear Banri's clothes, but Banri will steal his. The first time he did it, Yuki wept with joy thinking Banri had finally seen the fashion light. He wept again upon learning they were Juza's clothes and now tries to bribe Juza into arranging Banri's outfits

Tenma refuses to go to karaoke with only Banri and Juza. They literally will not stop unless kicked out because Banri thinks Juza's voice is hot as fuck

Karaoke is the only time he'll admit this

Tsuzuru is constantly conflicted on whether to write a romance with Banri & Juza as leads

Itaru sometimes calls Juza over to distract Banri when they're gaming. Has a 50/50 chance of backfiring as Banri wants to showoff in front of Juza

Unless Juza initiates any sort of skinship with Banri, then Banri short-circuits

Banri usually initiates any form of affection, so becomes super compliant and soft if Juza does it

Banri gets a little less self-centered as he gets older, but especially at the beginning would attempt to encourage Juza/refute his negative thoughts by saying things like, "Well I'm good at × and you’re just slightly better at it than me, so you're good at it too!"

Aka Banri really sucks at encouraging people

If Banri refuses or doesn't care about celebrating his birthday, Juza will get Mankai to help put together a joint party for Banri and him

They only tell Banri it's for Juza (of course they gave Banri gifts/did something small on Banri's birthday so he knows they care about him)

Banri doesn't cry what are you talking about?

They have joint celebrations every year since then

They both have secret stashes of shoujo manga & romance books for ideas on dates and how to be "proper" partners to each other

Kamekichi outs them

#requests #a3!#act! addict! actors!#banri settsu #juza hyodo

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janeyseymour · 4 years

Text

Fight or Flight

In both the past and in this life, Jane Seymour fled from fights. They didn’t even have to be her own fights, she would still flee the scene. She was trying to get better- she really was. But it was hard to shake old habits.

“Catherine! Are you fucking kidding me?” Anne would shriek.

“Shut up Bo-loser! You’re just pissed I beat you at Monopoly again!”

“You were already going to beat me anyway! Why did you have to bankrupt me?”

“That’s just the business of the game Anne.”

“Jane!” Anne whined to the blonde. “Tell Catherine that’s not fair.”

“Jane!” Catherine drew out. “Tell Anne that’s just how you play the game and to stop being a sore loser!”

“Oh, I’m the sore loser? If I can remember correctly, up until recently, you were still pissed you lost Henry to me over 400 years ago!” Anne crossed her arms.

“Because you stole him from me! This is different Anne! It’s just a stupid game!”

“Don’t be bitter cause I’m fitter!” Anne quoted her song. The two continued to go back and forth arguing, not noticing that Jane was getting more and more panicked. Before the two could go any further, blonde fled the room and made her way to the car.

“Jane!” Catherine called after her. “Jane?”

“You two need to figure this out before I come back,” The third queen sighed as she turned on the engine.

“It's 12:30 querida. Don't you think it’s a little late to be driving around?” the first queen tried convincing the third to come back into the house.

“I just need to-” Jane pulled away.

At 3:30 in the morning, the silver queen pulled into the driveway safely, much to the golden queen’s relief.

“Katherine, I thought I asked you to take the trash out three times already? And yet it’s still sitting here? This is ridiculous!”

“I��m right in the middle of watching this movie though!” Kat argued back, not taking her eyes off of the screen.

“You weren’t the first two times I asked you to do it!” Jane refuted.

“Can’t you just back off? I’ll get to it when I get to it!” The fifth queen turned up the volume louder.

“Katherine Howard!” Jane’s voice boomed.

“I-” Katherine stood up immediately and went to take out the trash.

“Was that so hard?” the usually kind queen asked in a mocking tone.

“I know you’re frustrated, but you don’t have to be such an ass about it.”

“Fuck this,” Jane stormed out of the house, car keys in hand.

Three hours later, the blonde returned, visibly more relaxed.

“I’m sorry I called you an ass.”

“You were right love. I’m sorry I was being an ass.”

“Jane, come on. Can’t we talk this out?” The sixth queen pleaded with her less confrontational friend.

“Love, I don’t know what there is to talk about. I desperately pleaded with you not to continue to write into the night, and you did. Because of that, you slept in and missed the one breakfast I was really looking forward to making. It really hurt my feelings, and now I’m going to go on a drive and cool down before I lose it on you.”

“Jane, I apologized a million-” the front door closed.

The blonde got into her car and began to drive. She ended up three towns over before she broke down crying. Knowing it wasn’t safe to drive in the state she was in, she pulled over into a small parking lot and turned off the car.

“I just-” she began to talk to herself and talk out her feelings, something she rarely did despite what the fandom thought. She was rather reserved in her own feelings other than the show. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

She looked up at the place she had parked. On one side of the parking lot was a tattoo parlor, and on the other was a pet store.

If Anna could have a dog and Anne was allowed to have a tattoo, why couldn’t she?

The blonde returned home with a small “VI” on her ribcage because despite the fact that the other queens angered her quite often, she knew all she would need is six. It didn’t make it any less meaningful when she remembered that her Edward was also known as Edward VI of England. And she returned with a fish: a small white betta named Eddie who she spilled her feelings to on the car ride home.

“We remade breakfast,” Cathy offered with a guilty smile.

“Thank you love. All is forgiven though.”

“You bought a fish?” Aragon tilted her head to the side slightly.

“I did. Meet Eddie.”

“After...?” Kat smiled softly.

“Yes.”

“He’s perfect,” Cleves had already begun to take out the fish tank tucked under Jane’s arms.

“I expect him to stay in your room.”

Jane Seymour spoke to the fish quite often about anything and everything hoping that maybe, just maybe, Edward up in heaven could hear her. And she never ate fish again. She couldn’t bring herself to.

“Anne! That’s my chocolate milk! Stop trying to take it from me!” Kat whined.

“Well, I don’t see your damn name on it, now do I?” Anne teased her cousin.

“Mum!” They both yelled at the same time.

Jane, who was up in her room and had already heard the girls yelling, found her keys and walked down the steps.

“Mum! Tell Anne to stop taking my chocolate milk!”

“Janey, tell Kit that I can drink whatever the hell I want in the house! It’s not just her chocolate milk!”

“Well, it would’ve been nice if you would’ve at least asked!”

“You don’t ask if you can drink Janey’s almondmilk!” Anne was getting more and more frustrated.

“I used to! Right Mum?” Kat batted her eyelashes, hoping she could use some of her Howard charm on the blonde.

“Kat! That’s not fair! You can’t do that when you know she’s going to take your side as soon as you give her that look and call her Mum!”

“What I’m saying is true!”

Jane had enough of hearing the girls’ bickering over something as stupid as chocolate milk, and half shouted, “Enough!” The other two were quite startled by this outburst. “This is a ridiculous argument to begin with. Kat, you know when you’re fighting you can’t drag me into this. You also know that since we’ve all gotten more comfortable living together that if it’s a drink or something small, it’s fair game. And Anne, you know that if it’s everyday, you should probably buy some more, but you never do. It’s always up to me. And yes Kat, you did used to ask, but you know now that what's mine is yours. That doesn’t just go for her, Anne. That applies to everyone. I just ask that everything gets replaced in a timely manner. Now, are we done arguing or...?”

“Well, I was going to grab the chocolate milk, but Anne took it before I could get to-” Jane held up a hand, signifying she heard enough. Without another word, she walked out the door.

The woman came back two hours later, two gallons of chocolate milk and a sharpie in hand. She had already labelled them for the two feuding queens. To her surprise though, there were already two brand new jugs of milk. It would last them a week before they began to fight again.

Jane may have had a tendency to flee from fights when it was between her own family, but if someone from the outside tried to come at any of the queens, she was the first one to fight. No one was to mess with her family.

The six were sitting down for an interview about a month before their show debuted. Yes, Jane was very nurturing to all of her sisters, but the love that she felt for them was much stronger than any of them had realized.

“So,” the reporter turned to face the first queen. “The first divorce. The one responsible for the Church of England. The one responsible for Bloody Mary. Why are you the best wife?”

“Sir, I do hope that you will try to conduct this interview as professionally and as kindly as possible,” Jane butted in before any other queen could, already noticing all of their discomfort.

“Quiet down Miss Seymour. Right now, this is focused on Aragon.” Jane eyed the interviewer before glancing at Catherine. She obviously was getting uncomfortable and was looking for a way to evade the questions at all possible costs. After a few questions of unbelievable prying and disrespect, the third queen had enough.

“You know what sir, I do think this part of the interview is over. All you’ve done is degrade Catherine and her legacy, and I’m sure I don’t want to know what you’ll say to the rest of us.”

“Jane, we can-”

“No Catherine. This man is not going to try to put us in a box anymore. We came back and started our show to show people that we aren’t just who they thought we are. So, sir, let me tell you how this is going to go down. I’m going to be asking the questions to all of the other queens, and then afterwards, you can ask me anything you please. But mark my words, if you so much as try to box us in anymore, I will lose my temper. You don’t want that.” Jane said fiercely before she folded her arms in her lap, the fire in her eyes slowly dying as she reverted back to the mild mannered woman she normally was.

“Yes ma’am,” the reporter gulped as he wrote down a few notes.

“Okay. Catherine, can you tell me what it’s like in our household?” Jane started off kindly.

“Well Jane, we’ve all grown quite a bit since we first came back. It’s been so wonderful watching each of us go on our own journeys and see how far we’ve come since we were first reincarnated. Our house is truly a home, and wherever I go, I know home is wherever you queens are.”

“Very nice. Now,” the third queen turned to Anne. “Because this is me conducting the interview now,” Jane laughed with a slightly bitter tone. “How has the dynamic of the group changed since we’ve all been together?”

“Oh?” Anne smirked a little, knowing that Jane was alluding to the fact that she could give details about how there are no rivalries anymore. They were done being pitted against each other; really, just simple politics if you were Anne. “Well, in history, we’ve always been put up against each other to see who is the best, who had it worst, who he loved more. And when we all came back, there was definitely some tension between a lot of us. For example, as you know Janey, Lina and I used to fight all the time. We still fight now, but it’s a lot more playful. And you and I had some tension, but now there’s no point to it. Cathy and Lina had some awkwardness but they sorted it out, and now Cath calls Lina ‘Madrina’. Kit thought Anna hated her, but there was no such hatred. At first, we all competed against each other, but in the end, we all realized-” she pointed to Cathy with a smirk.

“All we need is SiX,” Cathy quoted from the show.

“And Anna,” how do you think we all compare to each other?”

“Well Seymour, there really is no comparing us. We’re all our own people. We’re good at things, we’re bad at things, and at the end of the day, we’re all just human. None of us have to be better than anyone. As long as we’re being us, that’s more than enough for this family.” Anna emphasized the word ‘family’.

“Katherine, do you have anything to add?”

“Uh, not really Mum,” she let a small smile slip.

“Hold up. She calls you Mum?” The interview cocked an eyebrow.

“What’s it matter to you?” Jane snorted. “We’re all a family.”

“Yeah, we’re all a family. We have a strange dynamic, but it works, and I for one, wouldn’t change it for the world,” Kat said earnestly. The blonde shot her a small thumbs up. It was wonderful watching her surrogate daughter break out of her shell once in a while.

“And Cath?” Jane faced the writer of the group.

“All we need is SiX. We don’t need anyone to tell us who we are, or how we should act and be perceived in the public. We’re all perfectly fine with being ourselves and rewriting our stories- the way they should have been told all along. We are so much more than the few things we’ve been remembered for in history.”

“And Mr. Williams, do you have any questions for me?”

“No Miss Seymour. I think I have all that I need.” The interviewer gave a curt nod.

“Very well. Thank you for having us.”

Two weeks later, the article came out.

A few weeks ago, I had the absolute honor and pleasure of meeting the six wives of Henry VIII. At first, I began to ask Miss Aragon questions about the past, to which Miss Jane Seymour quickly shut down. She began to conduct the interview, not based upon the past, but based on what happens now that they are back.

I was able to sit back and listen to these six queens have a conversation, and let’s just say that they are here to reclaim their stories.

Catherine of Aragon, or “Lina” as she was referred to by the others, spoke with as much elegance as one would think, but her love for her fellow queens was clear. She stated that wherever the others are is where home is. She spoke highly of all of their self-journeys.

Anne Boleyn, master of politics, was able to explain that despite what happened in the past, all they truly need now is each other. While there were some rivalries in the beginning, the queens find no point in fighting over who was the most important queen or if one was better than the other.

Anna of Cleves, also known as Anne of Cleves, was able to add onto this by saying that there is no comparing them anymore. They are all individual women with different life journeys. So long as everybody is doing their best, it’s enough for their family.

Katherine Howard, the youngest and most quiet, was able to contribute to the idea that they were family simply by calling Miss Seymour her “Mum”. At first, this struck me as quite odd, but the queens were well aware. The dynamic of the household is “strange”, as Miss Howard put it, but it is something that she “wouldn’t change for the world”. The other queens quickly agreed, Miss Seymour even giving her daughter a thumbs up.

Catherine Parr, or Cathy, made it very clear that they were here to reclaim their stories. No more are they going to be put into the boxes or simple rhyme that we hold them to. These girls are going to reclaim their stories in the musical SiX, which debuts next month.

As for Jane Seymour, this queen herself lived up to what all of the others had said. Jane Seymour, widely known as the most demure queen, showed that this was her life. She did not shy away when I began to ask questions that were a bit too intrusive in hindsight. No longer should she be known as “bound to obey and serve”. No, she proved that to me quite quickly.

None of these women are bound to obey and serve the stories we’ve placed for them in history. I, for one, am looking forward to seeing what these queens have to share with us. SiX the Musical debuts in August. Be ready for the histo-remix.

As an addendum, I would like to address this to the queens themselves, if they decide to read this (I would not be offended if they chose not to). Queens: I am terribly sorry for my lack of privacy and the way I began to conduct that interview. You are all absolute treasures who I can not wait to see on stage. Thank you for this eye-opening experience, and best of luck to you all! Keep using your voices!

And to Miss Seymour: I’m terribly sorry for acting so out of line. Thank you for putting me in my place.

Jane smirked when she saw that last line. She found her voice, and she was determined to stop fleeting from confrontation. It had done the queens good.

#six the musical #six musical #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six fanfic #six musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction

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revolutionary-demosthenes · 4 years

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John Laurens’s ideal Republic has yet to be realized... in 2020

So I was reading through John Laurens’s June 16th 1776 letter to Francis Kinloch. This letter is mostly known for its particularly vengeful and aggressive passages, such as Laurens’s closing of “as Sincerely as a Republican can be to a Royalist” and “I hate the Name of King.”

But as I read through it, something else kept popping out at me... how much Laurens expresses ideas still considered “radical” now. And how much his ideas of what the American Republic would look like still have yet to be realized. In the post I’ll go through the relevant passages in the letter, and talk about them a bit. (And note that whenever I quote the letter, I’m quoting it from the transcription on @john-laurens‘s blog here, and there’s also a microfilm version online if you’d like to see the actual letter.)

The context for the letter: Kinloch sent Laurens a letter, which based on the points Laurens seems to be refuting in this letter, was essentially pro-monarchy arguments and refutation of Republics. (I can’t find the full letter, only the closing and opening.) The letter from Kinloch was also the one where he “ended things” with Laurens, probably leading to the abnormally aggressive and much less affectionate tone in Laurens’s return letter.

Anyway! The first part in the letter I want to talk about is as follows:

“If you mean by Mediocrity, the Government of a Man’s Passions, the continual Sacrifice of private Interest to public Good from which kind of Conduct, a Happiness which Riches cannot give, results to the Individual, and Strength and Grandeur are ensur’d to the State, I agree with you that it is required in the Government to which I give the preference_”

“Sacrifice of private interest to public good” why did this man fucking die why why why again ties into Laurens’s detestation of wealth inequality, but also tells us that he was thinking about this in a broader sense as well. He, or at least the form of government he preferred, valued the “public Good” over “private interests.”

“...a Happiness which Riches cannot give...” is not quite like Laurens’s other wealth equality statements. He is not saying that wealth should be equalized-- he is pointing out that it takes more than money to be happy. But again, the context of this means Laurens is also saying that a republic would bring happiness from things other than money-- and Laurens does seem to be implying that it is a greater happiness than that derived from “Riches.”

This, in particular, is very interesting to look at, because of course Laurens was very rich. And especially at the time, money was believed to be where happiness, or at least ease of life, came from. But here’s John Laurens, son of Henry Laurens, declaring that there is a “Happiness which Riches cannot give.”

This is total and complete speculation, but I also wonder if this hints a bit at Laurens’s mental state at the time, which, judging by this letter even, was probably not great. Even if he did not mean this in a conscious way, perhaps this was partly Laurens expressing frustration over people assuming his life was perfect because he was rich. Laurens was incredibly privileged in his lifetime, but at this time his younger brother had died recently, his boyfriend had just broken up with him, and of course having had a gay relationship must have been incredibly stressful and I would guess Laurens had many very conflicting feelings over it. This is probably reading way too much into this. Main point: Laurens did not, unlike many others, believe that money was the key to happiness. This passage actually seems to imply Laurens thought happiness was greater when not derived from wealth.

“...under a Republican Government there is the fullest Scope for Ambition directed in it’s proper Channel, in the only Channel in which it ought to be allowed, I mean for the Advancement of Public Good_ need I desire you for proof to turn to the Histories of Ancient Republics_ no_ your Memory will present to you Instances enough of Men vying with each other in the glorious Service of their Country and receiving distinguished Marks of Approbation from her_ Does this noble Emulation, or it’s consequent pure Rewards, shock the Spirit of Democracy_ no_ but the Ambition of acquiring greater Riches than the rest of ones fellow Citizens, the establishing that odious Inequality of Fortunes, Source of Luxury and Wretchedness in Society_ or that of usurping more power than the Laws allow_ such pernicious Ambition shocks the equitable Spirit of a Republic and the Selfish Enemy to his Country, in whose Conduct it appears, must fall under the wholsome Rigour of the Law_”

Well, firstly and most clearly, this is yet another example of Laurens expressing wishes for the equalization of wealth. I take especial pleasure in his labeling the inequality of wealth “odious,” a word which is defined as “extremely unpleasant; repulsive.” This is probably the most vehement criticism of the inequality of wealth Laurens ever expressed.

And then there’s the bit that hits the hardest. (For me, anyhow.) “[The ambition] of usurping more power than the Laws allow_ such pernicious Ambition shocks the equitable Spirit of a Republic and the Selfish Enemy to his Country, in whose Conduct it appears, must fall under the wholsome Rigour of the Law_” And this is quite plain, and pretty simple. John Laurens did not believe anyone in the new American government should seek or obtain more power than the laws explicitly dictated. This could even imply that Laurens did not believe anyone should even want to have more power than was lawful. And that makes me think he’s been turning in his grave for about the past... four years.

“To be confounded with Tradesmen, and mean Mechanics, you add, would give pain to Men of Education and feeling_ I know not how a Man of Education and Talents would be lost undistinguished in an ignorant Herd, unless by his own Neglect_ for he has it in his power to do his Country more eminent and essential Service, and thereby entitles himself to more signal Rewards_ these Rewards I grant you are not calculated to enrich the Individual and introduce all the odious and destructive Consequences of Riches_ but they are fully satisfactory to a Virtuous Mind_ surely no virtuous philosophic Mind will take Offence that the useful industrious part of the Community, should have their persons and properties equally protected with those of the most enlighten’d Men...”

So this does have some not-so-great things in it, like the usage of “ignorant Herd” to describe tradesmen, and, for that matter, that woman are not mentioned at all. And I would guess that Laurens was not including enslaved people here.

But again, Laurens is expressing an idea that still has yet to really be in place in modern America-- that the working class and the richer and/or more educated people “should have their persons and properties equally protected” under law, I would guess. Of course, Laurens does not go as far as to suggest that perhaps they should educate poorer people, but I feel it is still pretty significant he still is essentially implying that the rich and the poor should have equal protections in the new government. I mean, that’s applicable in the modern healthcare debate, in college and student debt debates, in the wealth tax debate, and in the crusade for criminal justice reform. (And I am 100% sure that Laurens would have approved of a wealth tax.)

And tying into that, in the above paragraph there is again a truly vicious attack on being rich. “these Rewards I grant you are not calculated to enrich the Individual and introduce all the odious and destructive Consequences of Riches...” This brings up two points but I’ll talk about the riches one first. So again, Laurens uses the word “odious...” but this time it is not to describe the inequality of wealth, but “riches” themselves! Like, Laurens really was against himself! He implies here that money will only lead to trouble! I’m really wondering if something specific happened to spark this, because many times in this letter Laurens has just completely rejected lots of money as being any sort of good... and he was... really rich. Like, this totally seems to be Laurens implying he’d be happier without so much money, so I wonder what was making him feel that way? Was it a guilt thing? Did he feel that it was causing him to be excessive? Was he upset that he was rich via his father? Or that the slave trade was where nearly all the money came from?

And then the second point Laurens brings up here is that the “Rewards” (which is pretty vague... I’m not sure precisely what he’s referring to here.) “are not calculated to enrich the Individual...” So again, being more broad and implying that most things should benefit the entire community rather than a single person. As you can see from the full sentence above, Laurens connects the “wealth inequality” and “private interest” points here. Based on context, Laurens could be talking about serving in the army here, which would definitely fit. And if that is the case, it brings up another question: if Laurens believed that serving in the army was tied into wealth equality and was a way to favor the public over the private, could that have been part of Laurens’s motivation to join the army? But perhaps he also believed it would compensate for his privledge.

This letter is the most complete picture I know of of what Laurens really did dream of for the New Republic. It makes the tragedy of his death even more profound. If Laurens could have convinced other people to go for some of these ideas, they could literally be written into the constitution. Imagine if even just one of the values Laurens expresses here had simply been the norm of the American Republic from the start. Even if these conversations were happening this early in our history.

I truly believe that in some ways Laurens could have been the Founding Father we desperately needed in the earliest days of our country-- the one who was not in it for the power, who believed in the strict rule of law, abhorred the abuse of power, who believed in economic equality, and was a fierce advocate of the then-radical idea of abolition.

#John Laurens #Francis Kinloch #essay #quote #quote analysis #and this is not to say Laurens was a saint by any means #I don't want this to come across as glorifying or idolizing #but on these particular issues #Laurens seems pretty remarkably enlightened #anyway hope this resonates especially with the election coming up in the US #and the debate tonight #essay 13

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