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pumpkinpaix · 3 years

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Pleeeeeeease get into the class one at some point because I very much want to understand the class dynamics happening in the story but I have yet to find a meta that dives into it

god anon you want me dead don’t you alsjdfljks

referring to this post

okay, so -- my specific salt about class interpretations in mdzs are very targeted. I can’t pretend to have a deep understanding of how class works in mdzs generally because uhhhhh yeah i don’t think i have that. i’m just not familiar enough with the genre and/or the particulars of chinese class systems. but! i can talk in general terms as to why I feel a certain way about the class dynamics that I do think I understand and how I think they relate to the themes of the novel! i’m gonna talk about wei wuxian, the daozhangs, xue yang, and 3zun with, I’m sure, a bunch of digressions along the way.

the usual disclaimers: i do not think you are a bad person if you hold opinions contrary to my own. i may disagree with you very strongly, but like. this isn’t a moral judgment, fandom is transformative and interpretive etc. etc. and i may change my mind. who knows what the future will bring!

OKAY so let’s begin!

here’s the thing about wei wuxian: he’s not poor. I think because characters use “son of a servant” kind of often when they’re trying to insult him, a lot of people latch onto that and think that it’s a much stronger indication of his societal status than it actually is. iirc, most of the insults that fall along the “son of a servant” line come after wei wuxian starts breaking severely from tradition. it’s a convenient thing to attack him for, but doesn’t actually indicate anything about his wealth. (exception: yu ziyuan, but that’s a personal familial issue) this is in direct contrast to jin guangyao who is constantly mocked for his family line, publicly and privately, no matter what he does.

so this, coupled with all the jokes about wwx never having any money (wei wuqian, sizhui’s “i’ve long since known you had no money” etc.), plus his like, rough years on the street as a child ends up producing this interpretation of wei wuxian, especially in modern aus, as someone who is very class conscious and “eat the rich”. but the fact of the matter is, wei wuxian IS rich. aside from the years in his childhood and the last two years of his life in yiling, like -- wei wuxian had money and status. he is gentry. he is respected as gentry. he is treated as a son by the sect leader of yunmeng jiang -- he does not have the jiang name, but it is so very clear that jiang fengmian favors him. wei wuxian is ranked fourth of all the eligible young masters in the cultivation world -- that is not a ranking he could have attained without being accepted into the upper class.

wei wuxian’s poverty does not affect him in the way that it affects jin guangyao or xue yang. he is of low-ish birth (still the son of jiang fengmian’s right hand man though! ok sure, “son of a servant” but like. >_> whatever anyways), but for most of his life he had money. he, jiang cheng, and their sect brothers go into town and steal lotus pods with the understanding that “jiang-shushu will pay for it”. this is a regular thing! that’s fucking rich kid behavior!!! wei wuxian is careless with money because he doesn’t have to worry about it. he still has almost all the benefits of being upper class: education, food security, respect, recognition etc. I think there may also be a misconception that wei wuxian was always on the verge of being kicked out by yu ziyuan, or that he was constantly walking on eggshells around her for fear of being disowned, but that is just textually untrue. i could provide receipts, but I admittedly don’t really feel like digging them up just now ;;

even in his last years in yiling, he was not the one who was dealing with the acute knowledge of poverty: wen qing is the one managing the money, and as far as we know, wei wuxian did little to no management of daily life during the burial mounds days -- mostly, he’s described as hiding in his cave for days on end, working on his inventions, running around like a force of chaos, frivolously making a mess of things -- it’s very very cute that he buries a’yuan in the dirt, but in classic wei wuxian fashion, he did Not think about the practical consequences of it -- that A’Yuan has no other clean clothes, and now he’s gotten this set dirty and has no intention of washing them. is this a personality thing? yeah, but I think it’s also indicative of his lack of concern over the logistics of everyday survival, re: wealth.

furthermore, i think it is important to remember that wei wuxian, when he is protecting the wen remnants, is not protecting common folk: he is still protecting gentry. fallen gentry, yes! but gentry nonetheless. wen qing was favored by wen ruohan, and wen ning himself says that he has a retinue of people under his command (the remnants, essentially). their branch of the family do not have the experience of living and growing in poverty -- they are impoverished and persecuted in their last years, but that’s a very different thing from being impoverished your whole life. (sidenote: I do not believe wei wuxian’s primary motivation for defending the wen remnants was justice -- i believe he did it because he felt he owed wen ning and wen qing a life debt, and once he was there, he wasn’t going to stand around and let the work camps go on. yes, he is concerned about justice and doing the right thing, but that’s not why he went in the first place. anyways, that’s another meta)

after wei wuxian returns, he then marries back into gentry, and very wealthy gentry at that. lwj provides him all the money he could ever want, he is never worried about going homeless, starving, being denied opportunities based on his class and accompanying disadvantages. who would dare? and neither wei wuxian nor lan wangji seem to have much interest in shaking up the order of things, except in little things like the way they teach the juniors. they live in gusu, under the auspices of the lan, and they live a happy, domestic life.

were his years on the street traumatizing? yes, of course they were, there’s so much delicious character exploration to be done re: wei wuxian’s relationship to food, his relationship to his own needs, and his relationship to the people he loves. it’s all important and good! but I feel very strongly that that experience, while it was formative for him, did not impart any true understanding of poverty and the common person’s everyday struggles, nor do I think he ever really gains that understanding. he is observant and canny and aware of class and blood, certainly, but not in a way that makes it his primary hill to die on (badum-tss).

this is in very stark contrast to characters like jin guangyao and xue yang, and to some extent, xiao xingchen and song lan. I’ll start with the daozhangs, because I think they’re the simplest (??).

I think both xiao xingchen and song lan have class consciousness, but in a very simplified, broad-strokes kind of way (at least, given the information we know about them). we know that the two of them share similar values and want to one day form their own sect that gives no weight to the nobility of your lineage and has no concern with your wealth. we also know that they both disdain intersect politics and are more concerned with ideals and principles rather than status. but, I think because of that, this actually somewhat limits their perception and understanding of how status is used to oppress. as far as we know, neither of them participated on any side in sunshot and they demonstrate much more interest in relating to the commoners. honestly, i hc that they were flitting around trying to help decimated towns, protecting defenseless villages etc. I ALSO think this has a lot of interesting potential in terms of xiao xingchen and wei wuxian’s relationship, if xiao xingchen is ever revived. regardless of whether you’re in CQL or novel verse, xiao xingchen really doesn’t know wei wuxian at all, other than knowing that he’s his shijie’s son. he knows that cangse-sanren met with a tragic end, like yanling-daoren before her, and that he wants to be different. but here is cangse-sanren’s son, laying waste to entire cities, desecrating the dead. I would very much like to get into xiao xingchen’s head during that period of time (and i think, if i do it right, i can write some of it into the songxiao fixit), but that’s neither here nor there, because i’ve wandered off from my point again.

i would posit that song lan is used to an ascetic lifestyle, and xiao xingchen probably is too -- but that’s different from poverty because there’s an element of choice to it. I also think that neither of them is particularly worldly, xiao xingchen especially. he lived on an isolated mountain until he was like, seventeen, and he came down full of ideals and naivete about how the world worked. I think that both of them see inequality, that they are angered by it, and that they want to do something about it -- but their solution is neither to topple the sects, nor is it to reform the system. rather, it seems to be more about withdrawing and creating their own removed world. I think that the daozhangs embody a kind of utopianism that isn’t present in the minds of any of the other characters, not even wangxian. honestly, baoshan-sanren’s mountain is a utopian ideal, but one that is not described. it exists outside of and beyond the world. i have a lot of jumbled, vague thoughts about utopianism generally, mostly informed by china miéville and ursula k. le guin, and I don’t think i have the ability to articulate them here, but i wanted to. hm. say something? there is something about the inherent dystopianism contained within every utopia, that utopias are necessary, but also reflections of the existence of terrible things in their conception. idk. there’s something in there, I know it!! but i suppose what I want to say is -- i do not think the daozhangs understand class and social hierarchy very deeply because they don’t see a need to examine it deeply. for their goals, the details aren’t the point. they’re not looking to reform within the system, they’re looking to build something outside of it. I think they spend a lot of time concerned with alleviating the symptoms of social oppression, and their values reflect the injustices they witness there.

regardless, even if their story ends in tragedy and there is a certain amount of critique re: the utopian approach, i think the text still emphasizes that xiao xingchen left a utopia and that he thought that people mattered enough for him to try, and that was an incredibly honorable, kind, and human thing to do.

YEAH SURE THE DAOZHANGS ARE THE SIMPLEST ok ok RETURNING to class and moving forward: xue yang.

i also don’t think xue yang has class consciousness lol, or not in any way that really matters, but I do think poverty impacted him in a much stronger way than it impacted wei wuxian. wei wuxian spent some years on the street as a child. xue yang grew up on the streets. chang ci’an’s horrific treatment of him was directly due to his class and social standing: chang ci’an is a nobleman and xue yang is not even worth the dirt beneath the wheels of his cart. what I think is the seminal point though, is that this does not make xue yang think particularly deeply about systemic injustice, because xue yang is so self-centered, self-driven, and individualistic. he is not even slightly concerned about how poverty and class might affect other people -- they’re other people. what he takes away from his experience is not an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a system, but an anger at being wrongfully cheated by a specific man.

xue yang is not particularly concerned with the politics of the aristocracy -- he has no obvious ambitions other than, “i want to eat sweets whenever i please”, “i want to hurt anyone who wrongs me”, and “i want to be so strong that no one can hurt me”. like, he just doesn’t care -- it’s not the kind of power he wants. he sneers at people for like, personal reasons, not class reasons -- “you think you’re better than me” re: xiao xingchen and song lan. to him, all people -- poor, wealthy, noble, common -- are essentially equal, and they are all beneath him. after all, what does he care what family someone comes from, how much money they have? everyone bleeds when you cut them. some of them might be harder to get to than others, but xue yang does not fear that sort of thing. it’s just another obstacle he needs to vault on his way to getting revenge and/or a pastry.

ANYWAYS onto jin guangyao (wow this is hm. getting rather long ahaha oh dear): I would argue that the two characters with the most acute understanding of class/societal politics and the injustice of them are jin guangyao and lan xichen. i’ll start with jin guangyao for obvious reasons.

where xue yang took the damaging effects of poverty as personal slights, I think jin guangyao is painfully aware that there is nothing personal about them, which is, in some ways, much worse. why are two sons, born on the same day to the same father, treated so differently? just because.

he watched his mother struggle and starve and work herself to the bone in a profession where she was constantly disrespected and abused for almost nothing in return, while his father could have lifted her out of poverty with the wave of a finger. why didn’t he? because he didn’t like her? no -- because he didn’t care, and the structures of the society they live in protect that kind of blase treatment of the lower class.

“so my mother couldn’t choose her own fate, is that her fault?” jin guangyao demands. he knows that he is unbelievably talented, that he has ambition, that he has potential, and that all of it is beyond his grasp just because his father didn’t want to bother with it. his mother’s life was destroyed, and his own opportunities were crippled with that negligence. it isn’t personal. that’s just the way things are. your individual identity is meaningless, your humanity does not exist. when he’s kicked down the steps of jinlin tai, it’s just more confirmation that no matter how talented or hardworking he is, no one will give him the time of day unless he finds a way to take it himself and become someone who “matters”.

jin guangyao’s cultivation is weak because he had a poor foundation, and he had a poor foundation because he was denied access to a good one. he copies others because that’s all he can do at this point, and he copies so well that he can hold his own against some of the strongest cultivators of his generation. he’s disparaged for copying and “stealing” techniques, but -- he never would have had to if only he had been born/accepted into the upper class. the fact is that i really do think jin guangyao was the most promising cultivator of his generation that we meet, including the twin jades and wei wuxian: he had natural talent, ambition, creativity, determination and cunning in spades. in some ways, I think that’s one of the overlooked tragedies of jin guangyao: the loss of not just the good man he could have been, but the powerful one too. imagine what he could have done.

jin guangyao spends his entire time in the world of the aristocracy feeling unsteady and terrified because he knows exactly how precarious his position is. he knows how easy it is to lose power, especially for someone like him. he’s working against so many disadvantages, and every scrap of honor he gets is a vicious battle. jin guangyao fears, and I think that’s something that’s lacking in xue yang, wei wuxian and the daozhangs’ experiences/understandings of poverty. i think it’s precisely that fear that emphasizes jin guangyao’s understanding of class and blood. jin guangyao exhibits an anxiety that neither wei wuxian nor xue yang do, and it’s because he truly knows how little he is worth in the eyes of society and how little there is he can do to change that. to me, it very much feels related to the anxiety of not knowing if tomorrow you’ll have something to eat, if tomorrow you’ll still have a home, if tomorrow someone will destroy you and never have to answer for it. it’s the anxiety of knowing helplessness intimately.

moreover, jin guangyao is the only person shown to use the wealth and power at his disposal to take concrete steps to actually help the common people typically ignored by the powerful -- the watchtowers. they’re described in chapter 42. it’s a system that is designed to cover remote areas that most cultivators are reluctant to go due to their inconvenience and the lack of means of the people who live there. the watchtowers assign cultivators to different posts, give aid to those previously forgotten, and if the people are too poor to pay what the cultivators demand, the lanling jin sect pays for it. jin guangyao worked on this for five years and burned a lot of bridges over it. people were strongly opposed to it, thinking that it was some kind of ploy for lanling jin’s personal benefit. but the thing is -- it worked. they were effective. people were helped.

i believe CQL frames the watchtowers as an allegory for a surveillance state/centralized control (i think?? it’s been a minute -- that’s the hazy impression i remember, something like a parallel to the wen supervisory offices?), but I personally don’t think that was the intent in the novel. the watchtowers are a public good. lanling jin doesn’t staff them with their own sect members -- they get nearby sects to staff them. it’s a warning network that they fund that’s supposed to benefit everyone, even those that everyone had considered expendable.

(did jin guangyao do terrible things to achieve this goal? yeah lol. it’s not confirmed, but his son sure did die... suspiciously...... at the hands of an outspoken critic of the watchtowers........ whom he then executed....... so like, maybe just a convenient coincidence for jin guangyao, two birds one stone, but. it seems. Unlikely.)

lan xichen is the only member of the gentry that ever shows serious compassion for and nuanced understanding of jin guangyao’s circumstances. lan xichen treats him as his equal regardless of jin guangyao’s current status -- even when he was meng yao, lan xichen treated him as a human being worthy of respect, as someone with great merits, as someone he would choose as a friend, but he did so knowing full well the delicate position meng yao occupied. this is in direct contrast to nie mingjue, who also believed that meng yao was worthy of respect as a human being, but was completely unable to comprehend the complexities of his circumstances and unwilling to grant him any grace. you know, the difference between “i acknowledge that your birth and status have had effects upon you, but I don’t think less of you for it” and “i don’t consider your birth and status at all when i interact with you because i think it is irrelevant” (“i don’t see color” anyone?)

to illustrate, from chapter 48:

大抵是觉得娼妓之子身上说不定也带着什么不干净的东西，这几名修士接过他双手奉上来的茶盏后，并不饮下，而是放到一边，还取出雪白的手巾，很难受似的，有意无意反复擦拭刚才碰过茶盏的手指。聂明玦并非细致之人，未曾注意到这种细节，魏无羡却用眼角余光扫到了这些。孟瑶视若未见，笑容不坠半分，继续奉茶。蓝曦臣接过茶盏之时，抬眸看他一眼，微笑道：“多谢。”

旋即低头饮了一口，这才继续与聂明玦交谈。旁的修士见了，有些不自在起来。

rough tl:

Probably because they believed that the son of a prostitute might also carry some unclean things upon his person, after these few cultivators took the teacups offered from [Meng Yao’s] two hands, they did not drink, but instead put them to one side, and furthermore brought out snow white handkerchiefs. Quite uncomfortably, and whether they were aware of it or not, they repeatedly wiped the fingers they had just used to touch the teacups. Nie Mingjue was not a detail-oriented person and never took note of such particulars, but Wei Wuxian caught these in the corner of his eye. Meng Yao appeared as if he had not seen, his smile unwavering in the slightest, and continued to serve tea. When Lan Xichen took the teacup, he glanced up at him and, smiling, said, “Thank you.”

He immediately dipped his head to take a sip, and only then continued to converse with Nie Mingjue. Seeing this, the nearby cultivators began to feel somewhat uneasy.

all right, since we’re in full cyan-rampaging-through-the-weeds mode at this point, i’m going to talk about how this is one of my favorite 3zun moments in the entire novel for characterization purposes because it really highlights how they all relate to one another, and to what degree each of them is aware of their own position in relation to the others and society as a whole.

1. nie mingjue, who is a forthright and blunt person, sets meng yao to serving tea and is done with it. he notices nothing wrong or inappropriate about the reactions of the people in the room because it’s not the sort of thing he considers important.

2. meng yao, knowing that his only avenue is to take it lying down with a smile, masks perfectly.

3. lan xichen, noticing all this, uses his own reputation to achieve two things at once: pointedly shame the other cultivators in attendance, and show meng yao that regardless of others’ opinions, he considers him an equal and does not endorse such behavior--and he does it while taking care that no fallout will come down on meng yao’s head.

is this yet another installment of cyan’s endless lxc defense thesis? why yes it is! no one is surprised! but this is my whole point: both meng yao and lan xichen understand the respective hierarchy and power dynamics within the room, while nie mingjue very much does not. this is not because nie mingjue is a bad person or because nie mingjue is stupid--it’s a combination of personality and upbringing. nie mingjue is straightforward and has no patience for such games. but then again, he can afford not to play because he was born into such a high position: that’s a privilege.

to break it down: meng yao knows that he is the lowest-ranked person in the room, sees the way people are subtly disrespecting him in full view of his general who is doing nothing about it. in some ways, this is good -- nie mingjue’s style of dealing with conflict is very direct and not at all suited to delicate political maneuvering. after all, the way he promoted meng yao was actually quite dangerous to meng yao: he essentially guaranteed that his men would bear meng yao a grudge and that their disrespect for him would only be compounded by their bitterness at being punished on his behalf. (it’s like, why often getting parents or teachers to intervene ineffectively in bullying can just be an incitement to more bullying -- same concept) meng yao’s reaction during that scene shows that he’s pretty painfully aware of this and is trying to defuse the situation to no avail. nie mingjue gives him a bootstrap speech (rip nie mingjue i love u so much but. sir) and then promotes him, which is pretty much the only saving grace of that entire exchange, for meng yao at least.

lan xichen, on the other hand, understands both that meng yao is the lowest-ranked person in the room and that any direct attempt to chastise the other cultivators in the room will only serve to hurt meng yao in the long run. he knows that if this were brought to nie mingjue’s attention, he would be outraged and not shy about it -- also bad for meng yao. so he uses what he has: his immaculate reputation. by acting contrary to the other cultivators’ behavior, he demonstrates that he finds their actions unacceptable but with the plausible deniability that it wasn’t directed at them, that this is just zewu-jun being his usual generous self. this means that the other cultivators have no one to blame but themselves, nothing to do but question their own actions. there is nowhere to cast off their discomfort. meng yao didn’t do anything. lan xichen didn’t do anything -- he just thanked meng yao and drank his tea, isn’t that what it’s there for? he doesn’t disrupt the peace, he doesn’t attack anyone and put them on the defensive, but he does make his position very clear.

i know this is a really small thing and i’m probably beating it to death, but I really think this shows just how cognizant lan xichen is of politics and emotional cause and effect in such situations. certainly, out of context I think the scene reads kind of cliche, but within the greater narrative of the story and within the arc of these characters specifically, I think it was a really smart scene to include. it also showcases lan xichen’s style of action: that he moves around and with a problematic situation as opposed to moving straight through.

not to be salty on main again, but this is why it’s very frustrating to me when I see people call lan xichen passive when he is anything but. his actions just don’t look like traditional “actions”, especially to an american audience. it’s easy to understand lan wangji and wei wuxian’s style of problem-solving: taking a stand, moving through, staying strong. lan xichen is juggling an inconceivable number of factors in any given situation, weighing his responsibilities in one role against those in another, and then trying to find the path through the thicket that will cause the least harm, both to himself and the thicket. lan wangji and wei wuxian are not particularly good at considering the far-reaching consequences of their actions -- again, not because they are bad people, but because of a combination of personality and upbringing. they’d just hack through the thicket, not thinking about the creatures that live in it. that is not a terrible thing! it isn’t. it’s a different way of approaching a problem, and it has different priorities. that’s okay. there are advantages and disadvantages on both sides, and where you come down is going to depend on your personal values.

okay we’ve spiraled far and away from my original point, but let’s circle back: i was talking about class.

I think it’s undeniable that class, birthright, fate etc. are some of the driving forces of thematic conflict in mdzs, and the way each character interacts with those forces reveals a lot about themselves and also about the larger themes of fate, chance, and what it means to be righteous and good and how that is and isn’t rewarded. a lot of the tragedy of mdzs (the tragedy that isn’t caused by direct aggression on the part of one group or another) stems from the injustices and slights that people suffered due to their lot in life. it isn’t fair. none of it is fair! we sympathize with jin guangyao because we recognize that what he suffered was unconscionable, even if we don’t excuse him. i sympathize A Lot with xue yang as well for similar reasons, though I understand that’s a harder sell. this is a story focused on the mistakes of an entrenched, aging gentry and the effects that those mistakes had on their children, and a lot of it has to do with prejudice based in class and birth status. whether the prejudice was the true reason or whether it was just a convenient excuse, the fact remains that the systems in place rewarded and protected the people in power who used it to cling to that power. mdzs is also a story of how the circumstances of one’s life can offer you impossible choices that you cannot abstain from, and it asks us to be compassionate to the people who made terrible choices in terrible times. it’s about the inherent complexity in all things! that sometimes, there are no good choices, and i don’t know, i’d like to think that people would show me compassion if I had to make the choices some of these characters did. not just wei wuxian, mind you, every single one of them. except jin guangshan because I Do Hate Him sorry. and i guess wen ruohan. i think that’s it.

good. GOD this is clocking in at //checks notes -- just over 5k. 8′D *stuffs some weeds into my mouth like the clown i am*

(ko-fi? :’D *lies down*)

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tenthgrove · 3 years

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Hello, I just saw that you opened your request. I'm the one who ended up writing a whole prompt! Imagine this for each member from La Squadra: they had an one-night stand with a random woman, she accidentally got pregnant and decided to have the baby without telling them. After a while, the woman got ill and passed away, but not without before sending her child with their father (let's imagine she has the direction of their hideout even if it's ooc, or she knew where they hang out). So, one day someone knocks the door and introduces themselves as the kid of one of the members/if it's too young, someone left them on the door with a explainatory note... How do you think each member would react by discovering that they have a child and they're supposed to take care of them from now? You can make each kid with different ages if you want, it would be funny to see Prosciutto or Ghiaccio dealing with a rebellious teenage son or Risotto trying to take care of a toddler, but I guess not all of them would want to keep their children. Sorry if it's a lot, haha.

La Squadra did a Diavolo

La Squadra x Reader, Platonic/Familial, SFW

A/N: your idea about mixing up the ages got me thinking, and I ended up using randomisers for the children’s ages (though I did consciously change some of them) and genders. It added a fun bit of chance to this prompt.

Formaggio, with an 8 year old daughter

The whole thing feels surreal to him. There's a little girl on his doorstep calling herself his daughter and by all evidence, it's true. He doesn't really know how to feel about it at first. On one hand it's kind of cool he had a kid all this time and you're clearly a lovely girl, but on the other hand, what the fuck? Still, not being the practical sort, his sense of sentiment far outweighs any question of how he's actually going to look after a child, so without much deliberation, Formaggio agrees to let you stay.

Formaggio isn't too experienced with kids but he doesn't exactly dislike them either, so he figures he knows what to do. At your age you can at least do the basics of looking after yourself, so he isn't too worried. The only problem is that if you ask him to cook for you or help clean your room, his eyes go very wide. He never quite picked up those skills himself, he's afraid, so you're going to have to ask someone else for that one.

The good news is that Formaggio is a very easy-going, fun sort of dad, who is a natural at playing with you and lets you do what you want when he can't be around. He quickly gets used to showing affection to you, letting you cuddle up to him on the sofa in front of the squad and even carrying you around once in a while. He gives amazing piggy back rides.

The bad news (or more good news, depending on how you are) is that you have to leave school. Risotto says that at your age you can't be trusted not to tell anyone your new family is a bunch of assassins, and taking you to and from school each day would be too much of a hassle. Nonetheless, you're welcome to continue your education from home, though Formaggio will hardly push you if you don't keep up with it. Melone is much better on that front.

Despite the risk, Formaggio can't bring himself to force you to lose all your friends, so he lets you keep meeting with them. Furthermore, he knows a few guys in other squads who have kids about your age, so he's happy to introduce you to them if you want a friend you can be more honest about your home life with. Formaggio might not have a clue what he's doing, but he's doing pretty good.

Illuso, with a 3 year old daughter

He's been fearing this day would come for years. A small child knocking on the door of the hideout, holding a note in hand addressed to him, just as a shady looking car drives away. Yeah, Illuso remembers your mother pretty well and he remembers the distinct lack of precautions they took during their encounter. Now, the consequences of his actions are here at his house, and Risotto is currently standing in the doorway of the office looking ready to give him the biggest dressing-down of his life.

After his tongue-lashing, Illuso frantically agrees to take responsibility for what he's done and see to it that you're well cared for, and begins the task of looking for relatives who might take you. Unfortunately, none of your mother's family can be traced, and Illuso can't exactly call up his own right now. Leaving you on the door of an orphanage isn't an option because you're old enough to say where you've come from, so it looks like for the time being, Illuso is stuck with you.

Initially, Illuso is not thrilled. He pawns you off on Melone, Sorbet and Gelato whenever possible and tries to live his life as before. But increasingly, he can't help finding himself visiting your room whenever he's stressed or has had a bad mission. There's something so pure about gently stroking your hair as you sleep. He can't help but feel... attachment, as he rubs his thumb against your tiny palm.

From then on, Illuso starts to make a point of spending more time with you. You're at the age where you just want to touch and explore everything you're given, so letting you make a mess with his makeup and beauty creams is an easy way for him to observe and learn about you. He even starts doing the more practical things like washing and feeding you every so often.

Eventually, Illuso becomes an actual father to you. He loves you as a father should and puts his time into making you happy. Illuso is glad he didn't give you away, as you've opened his eyes to so many things. For the first time in many years, he feels human. He feels redeemable.

Prosciutto, with a 13 year old son

As you tell him your story Prosciutto racks his brains. He didn't have many one-night-stands in his youth but the ones he did have were so far back he barely remembers them, so your mother's name doesn't immediately ring any bells. If it weren't for the striking resemblance between you, Prosciutto probably would have thrown you out for a liar there and then. But as you are, it's clear you're being honest. He lets you in.

After a short interrogation by Risotto to make certain you aren't acting on behalf of some third party looking to infiltrate the squad, it's agreed you can stay, so long as you keep quiet about it to your friends. At your age you can largely look after yourself and all you really needed was a roof over your head, so there's no problem with you moving into the spare room as long as you stay out of the others' way.

Education isn't much of an issue either, since you're likely well settled in your current school and can get yourself there and back. Just whatever you do, don't go telling anyone you live with a bunch of gangsters now. Prosciutto means it, you could seriously put yourself in danger if you do that.

Much to your father's ire, you end up befriending several members of the squad, especially the younger ones like Melone, Ghiaccio and Pesci who have some generational overlap with how you were raised. Prosciutto would rather you didn't do this but at the end of the day, he can't really stop you. God forbid you call him an old boomer again.

Your relationship is overall positive- Prosciutto makes a point of taking you on outings when he has the time, and giving you parental advice when you need it. However that doesn't stop you from making fun of his stuffy, old habits, and playing the moral high ground in regards to his work.

On that note, the problem comes when you develop an interest in the squad's work. It's only inevitable, given how pervasive the topic is in conversations around the house, and the fact you're more than old enough to know what a gang is, but the day you first ask him about it is no less welcome. What's scary is that you're about the same age as Passione's youngest recruits and, well, if you ended up joining them because of him, Prosciutto might never forgive himself.

Pesci, with a 6 month old son

He knew it had been a mistake. Not long after his 18th birthday he'd given in to the squad's pestering about his virginity and finally gotten rid of it just to shut them up. Now he's ridden with guilt. Not only did the poor woman get pregnant because of him but now she's died. He can't help but wonder, the letter attached to the basket you came in was very vague after all, was your mother's death at all related to your birth? If so, Pesci doesn't know how he'll forgive himself.

Pesci immediately panics and stumbles into his Fra's bedroom crying louder than you are. Prosciutto remains calm, advising him to first make sure this actually is his baby through Melone, in case this is somebody trying to trick him, and to then think through his options rationally. As far as Prosciutto sees it, he has two. He can either see to it that you're taken in by a caring, reliable individual, or he can keep you for himself. Surprisingly, Prosciutto's actually okay with the second one, since in his eyes duty to one's family is absolute.

Pesci stammers a bit and asks if he can wait a few days to make his mind up, which Prosciutto permits. But it isn't long at all until Pesci is far too attached to you to ever let you go, and it becomes clear you'll be staying for the long-run. Risotto is hardly happy about this but agrees with Prosciutto's sentiment of family, so he doesn't try to insist you be sent away.

Pesci is an incredibly loving father. He'll dash from the other side of the house at a moment's notice if he hears you crying. That said, being so young himself it's inevitable he requires some help with raising you. Sorbet and Gelato chip in quite regularly, as does Melone when Pesci is desperate enough to fall on using him. Prosciutto helps out too, being your uncle, and occasionally you've even had Risotto answer your cries.

La Squadra can only hope their situation improves somehow in the coming years, since Pesci has no idea how he's going to deal with an older child in a house full of assassins. At very least, being so young it's a long time before he has to worry about things like school. For now, what's important is that you are loved very dearly. Pesci has discovered a new protective streak in himself, something he discovers every time he looks in your eyes.

Melone, with a 4 year old son

When you arrived you were frightened and confused. You struggled to babble out the story you were told to tell as the strange men crowded around you in the front room of the house. Then, a bizarre looking man with purple hair pushed to the front of the crowd, insisting he knew what to do in a situation like this. He carried you somewhere quiet, and gently asked you to repeat your story again. You told him you were looking for your father, Melone.

Melone is elated. He's always wanted a child, but getting into a relationship stable enough to produce one has never been an option with the life he lives. Now the happy accident he never new he had has come home to him! Carrying you back to the living room, Melone introduces you as his son and announces to the team that he will be keeping you.

This is met with some protest. Not only are you of the age where you'll need constant supervision, but quite frankly, nobody trusts Melone to take care of a kid. Melone refutes their accusations harshly, making it absolutely clear he will not be giving you up without a fight. Finally, Risotto surrenders, on the terms that if he catches any signs of abuse or neglect, he will see to it personally that you are re-homed elsewhere.

Melone's parenting style is relatively laid-back. He believes parents should be a 'safe base' from which children should explore the world, coming back when they need advice but ultimately following their own whims within reason. He encourages you to play as you wish and does not stop you from bonding with the rest of the squad. Finding supervision for you while he's on missions proves to be a non-issue, since his stand's massive range means he can often do most of a mission's work at home.

When the time comes to educate you, Melone decides against the risks of enrolling you in school. He is an amazing teacher and can teach you everything you'd need in half the hours of a typical curriculum. Beyond the essentials of literacy and simple maths, Melone largely encourages you to follow you own interests rather than stick to some boring, arbitrary list of useless things a normal curriculum for some reason expects you to learn.

That said, he knows the importance of making friends, so he frequently takes you out to meet with neighbourhood children. All-in-all, the squad is surprised at his sensible parenting choices, and the happy child you are turning out to be.

Ghiaccio, with a 2 year old son

It's almost comedic the lengths Ghiaccio goes to to avoid the problem. As the others crowd around you in Melone's lap, Ghiaccio cowers in the corner insisting that you absolutely cannot be his. It's very obvious you are, of course. You look almost exactly like him, and have a cry to match. You've even inherited the same, mild visual impairments that earned him his glasses. There's no getting away from the truth.

After accepting the truth, Ghiaccio takes you away to his room to 'clear his head' before deciding where to send you in the morning, but when morning comes, that deliberation time quickly turns into a few more days, then a month, then never. It's clear Ghiaccio's become attached to you, and he cannot bring himself to give you away.

Unfortunately, he doesn't have the foggiest clue in hell how to look after a toddler. He has a hard enough time understanding what it is adults want from him, let alone small children. There are times he even considers giving you away again, but they never last long enough for him to go through with it. Bit by bit, he slowly learns how to be a father.

Melone is his primary co-parent. As cautious as Ghiaccio is about letting him around his baby, it soon becomes clear Melone can understand your needs far better than he can. The pair have many sessions together teaching Ghiaccio how to do things like wash you or cook your food. It's honestly a massive help, and probably the main reason Ghiaccio doesn't completely melt down within a month of having you.

These issues aside, Ghiaccio is a person who is very genuine in his affections. He would break the shins of anyone who even looked at you threateningly, and every fibre of his being wants you to be happy. He even learns to control his temper, as he knows from experience just how damaging an angry parent can be for a child. He's going to give you a better childhood than what his parents gave him, and that's a promise.

Risotto, with a 6 year old daughter

Well, perhaps this ought to have been expected. In his early 20s Risotto was really far less careful than he ought to be in regards to his encounters, so he probably had this coming. You are at a difficult age, old enough to understand your father is a criminal but young enough to still need his care. If he takes you in, there will be many challenges. And yet he cannot bring himself to turn you away. Looking at you he feels... obligation.

In the early days he tries his best to shelter you. He keeps you in his room and tells the others not to talk to you. But that's no way for you to live, and he knows it. Eventually, he swallows his fears and lets you explore your new home, even taking you out to the park a few minutes each day so you can run around. He talks to Melone about continuing your education, and asks Sorbet and Gelato if they'd let the spare room next to them be turned into a bedroom for you. He's going to make sure he raises you right.

Risotto may be quiet and introverted, but do not mistake that for emotionally distant. He does not underestimate his vital role in your emotional well-being, and is quick to pick up on when you are feeling sad or lonely. He makes sure to pick you up in his arms and ask what's wrong when that happens.

Though he didn't know her well, he mourns your mother with you, and is very watchful for the signs of attachment issues that may result from losing a parent at such a tender age. Being all you have left, Risotto gains a new instinct of self-preservation. For the first time in years, his life has meaning.

In terms of bonding, he prefers calm activities that allow him to passively observe your interests, such as watching movies or reading you books. When he's working in his office and doesn't need his camera on, he's happy for you to sit in his lap as long as you're quiet. He would ask if you don't read what's on his screen, though, at least not while you're so young. He'll give you a better explanation of what he's doing some day, but not just yet.

Sorbet and Gelato, with a 12 year old daughter

First of all, let's make clear that regardless of which one is biologically your father, they both feel equal responsibility for you. No doubt they were both present for your conception anyway, so as far as they're concerned, if one of them has a secret kid from a hookup, they both have a secret kid from a hookup.

Having always wanted children, they are happy when you appear on the doorstep and introduce yourself as their daughter. Though they don't say it out loud to avoid upsetting you, they kind of wish your mum had kicked it sooner so they could have raised you from a younger age, but they're more than happy to make do with what they've got. There's no hesitation in welcoming you to live with them permanently, and anyone who has a problem with this isn't brave enough to say it.

Right from the get-go they are very permitting parents, awarding you a generous helping of their cash each week and having a rule list that pretty much starts and ends with "don't talk to the police." Despite your age they don't expect you to be independent, and are happy to cook for you and help you out with other things when you ask. It seems parenthood was made for them.

Despite all this, there is one problem in your relationship that is making things difficult. That of your fathers' work. You're 12 years old and you aren't stupid. You know they kill for a living and you know they enjoy it. When you stumble into the bathroom at 1am to find them covered in blood and laughing together, there's no making excuses. No matter how good they are with you, this is going to make you afraid of them.

Sorbet and Gelato are incredibly stringent in solving these early issues. After all these years they've finally got the family they wanted, and they aren't going to let it slip away from their own cruelty. They are honest with you about their occupation, since they want you to know you can trust them, and make absolutely clear it won't affect their care for you. You are welcome to ask questions and receive honest answers, but other than that Sorbet and Gelato will make a point of not accidentally causing you to witness something you shouldn't.

With them, you are welcome to continue your old life in terms of school and friends. They want to spend time with you, but they don't want to overtake your existence completely. When you are up for it, they are keen to take you on outings that interest you so you can spend time together as a family. They hope you know how happy you make them.

#la squadra #la squadra di esecuzione #la squadra x reader #formaggio #formaggio x reader #illuso #illuso x reader #prosciutto #prosciutto x reader #pesci #pesci x reader #melone #melone x reader #ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #risotto nero #risotto nero x reader #sorbet and gelato #sorbet and gelato x reader

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stxleslyds · 3 years

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It’s very interesting to see your thoughts on Winnik cause personally while I like that he made jason a bit unhinged and fun in utrh his other characterizations of his were eh at best. Like why would jason not care about the world and why would he take over the drug trade of all things considering his history. I feel like Winnick had a very surface level understanding of Jason. There was a lot of his past to explore but it wasn’t explored that deeply. Plus I absolutely HATED his Bruce and talia characterization. And how he wrote Talia in both utrh and lost days was absolutely disgusting and his explanation for why he did it was that Jason loves Talia and that they were both messed up ppl??? Which is where I can’t forgive him. I feel like he was a one hit wonder because ever since utrh his Jason story started to go downhill. I also feel like it’s because DC doesn’t know how to write a character that’s from a poor background and that’s a huge disservice to Jason. I do hope that Rosenberg or another writer (hopefully female) does a good job on him. He’s been suffering under shitty writing for so long. Sorry for the long ask I really enjoy reading your posts.

Hi Anon, thank you for sending your ask!

Well, this is a great question because I love giving my opinions on Winick’s UtRH and Lost Days. I know those books (or some moments in them) are not everyone’s cup of tea and I had and have some problems with some of them but I have also come to understand them or even accept them as a writer bringing up a morally grey area in his books and doing it well (or at least I saw it that way after re-reading and researching a bit about his thoughts on those matters).

This is going to be a long post (I suppose) because there is a lot to cover and I want to let you know in a clear way why I think that what Winick wrote works beautifully for Jason. I will try to answer this as coherently as I can, so I will talk about the points you made in your ask separately so I make sure I don’t forget anything.

Let’s begin!

“Why would Jason not care about the world?”

I assume with that you meant about what happened in Bludhaven when Chemo was dropped there by the Society? That is valid but that really wasn’t Winick’s fault (I believe), that whole thing was shown in the book because back then the Bat-related books were more interconnected and that was what was happening in Dick’s Nightwing run at the time, which I think was used to explain why Dick suddenly stopped helping Bruce in Gotham.

And then I think Jason and Bruce watching that happen when they were having that conversation on that roof was very well planned out. I think Winick used that opportunity for Jason to be his peak level of little shit and make Bruce feel bad about not arriving in time to save another one of his kids. Even though Jason later revealed that he never blamed Batman for not arriving in time to save him, I believe Jason said that about Dick to make Bruce hurt more. Jason was trying to make Bruce stay in Gotham so either Bruce or him killed the Joker that night. Winick on the other hand had to finish his story, him branching out and having Batman go to Bludhaven would have benefited absolutely no one either, and it just didn’t fit the story that was being told in Under the Red Hood.

That’s why I think that Jason reacted that way to the Bludhaven and Chemo situation. If by caring about the world you meant something else let me know! (He obviously cared about Gotham in UtRH and other people in Lost Days).

“Why would he take over the drug trade of all things considering his history?”

Well, I have to be honest with you Jason wanting to control the drug trade in Gotham makes absolute sense to me, and even more when I think about Jason’s past history.

Jason and Bruce have always been (to me) clear opposites in various angles, and in UtRH, Winick talks about that a little bit too.

Batman was created to eradicate crime from Gotham after Bruce witnessed the death of his parents, that was the tragedy that set him off, and even though it was tragic and awful he had everything outside of his parents, he had a home, a support system, people that cared and gave him love, and money. He never had to be in contact with the cruel reality that was Gotham. We know through various stories that Gotham is deeply rotten and corrupted.

But Jason did know how corrupted, rotten and devoid of hope his city really was, he lived in the streets and in an abandoned apartment alone because he didn’t trust the police or social workers (he didn’t believe the system was helpful). He had seen his mother die at the hands of drugs after his father was sent to jail due to his criminal behaviour. Probably his father was a drug dealer and was the person that got his mother into drugs, (I believe that was later made canon, I might be wrong). But why did he do that? Maybe because he came from a poor and complicated background and nobody wanted to employ him so the real bad people of Gotham, like Black Mask, Cobblepot and many others, saw his vulnerability and his desperation to make money and they gave him a job as a drug dealer.

Considering that Jason was made out to have very deep problems with people selling drugs in schools and all that, I can estimate that maybe one of the big Drug Lords at the time employed Jason’s father when he was barely a teenager, that way he earned money, he stopped going to school and sold drugs to his peers so the bad people could control more people while they were vulnerable.

If all of that is true then Jason wanting to control the drug trade in Gotham, by becoming a Drug Lord himself, makes perfect sense to me. I mean let’s talk about this, what were his other options?

Kill every drug lord?

What if that set off a gang war in Gotham over who got to be the next big Drug Lord? I mean, it would be like real life, if someone dies in that sort of position there would always be someone else to take their place. Drugs are clearly (in Gotham) a great way to get money and power.

Also, if he killed all the drug lords then what happened to the people that were working for them, how could Jason help them get another job?

Explode every warehouse and facility with drugs in them?

And then what? Wait for Black Mask and the others to buy more and put a target on his back? Maybe kill some innocents so they can send a message to Red Hood that if he keeps destroying their drugs or whatever people will pay for it?

Maybe all the drug lords would come together and kill the Red Hood themselves, what could one man do against everyone else? Black Mask and the others had vulnerable people on a payroll, if they stopped working or went against what their boss said they would have been killed and then families would still be vulnerable and desperate to survive in Gotham.

Come forward as Jason Todd, the not so dead son of Bruce Wayne, and start a campaign against drugs?

Jason would have ended up dead in seconds, everywhere you look there are corrupt people. What could have been the point of that? What could have Jason be able to give families like his so they could stop living under the control of drugs and Drug Lords?

Jason being a Drug Lord himself was the best option because Jason KNOWS the reality of Gotham and Gotham’s people. His way of dealing with drugs could control the drug trade in the first 10 years and then eradicate it after that time. His plan was genius!

Jason knew that for people not to suffer as his family did, he had to take the slow and hard path of becoming the thing that he hated the most. He needed to attack the monster from within. So, when he made his first move he controlled the street-level dealers, he told them “I will protect you from both Black Mask and Batman if you stop dealing drugs to kids and in schoolyards if you do that, you are dead”, it is genius! By being clear about not wanting to have kids and high schoolers involved with drugs he set out a new path where those people weren’t forced into drugs and driven away from school. And that’s the way Winick made us see Jason’s not so new morals, he protects Gotham’s kids and he will kill you without hesitation if you endanger them.

From that he built, Winick made it clear, at first Jason would convince the people working for other Drug Lords to work for him if they followed his rules (and he offered them protection!). If Jason worked on the drug trade, he could have controlled who was inserted in the drug life or could have made it exclusive to the rich or club exclusive. In his intention of taking over the drug trade, he could have moved drugs away from Gotham’s most vulnerable.

And if he employed those vulnerable people, he would have made them work for him on other levels, that way those vulnerable people still had jobs and were protected from people like Black Mask. And in due time, fewer young and poor people would be involved with drugs or the drug trade.

Red Hood employs poor people and makes them not sell to other poor people or kids, he pays his employees good money so their families make a better life for themselves and their kids go to school, they are all protected by the Red Hood and his team (Jason could have trained others and make a team or gang that focused entirely on security), those people then get to retire with their families far away from drugs and maybe Gotham too.

I mean, Winick never did those things but I think that was the way he was thinking about it, he really set a golden path for future writers, his story had to finish Jason’s dilemma with Bruce and Joker but then his life as the Red Hood continued. And it could have been good if other writers used the characterization that Winick had given Jason: protector of children, killer of rapists and everyone that endangered women, children and teenagers. All of that was thrown away for a mythical fight with Ra’s al Ghul for people that were as trashy as Ra’s.

“I feel like Winick had a very surface-level understanding of Jason”.

I have to disagree. I think he understood Jason’s character before his death well and then built a grown-up version of him with those morals more developed after he suffered more and then saw how the world and Batman’s ways hadn’t changed after his murder.

We are talking about post-crisis Jason here; he was sweet and he loved being Robin but he also saw the world differently from Bruce and Batman. He lived a very different life than the one that Bruce lived when he was a kid. Jason even said that he “could fend for himself just fine” and that he had “graduated from the streets of crime alley”.

To me Winick understood this completely, he knew that Jason had had close contact with how drugs could affect people and what a criminal record could lead you to, but he also understood that Jason was a survivor of "crime alley" and all its worst people. He probably knew of things that people were doing of he saw them happening. He knew how to protect himself from those things but understood that not everyone could do it. And when Batman took him to Ma Gunn’s school Jason learned that Batman was ignorant of how awful and manipulative Gotham’s people could be. Ma Gunn wasn’t running an orphanage or cool school; she was teaching children how to steal and harm others. He hated it, he was “okay” when he was alone and now, he was locked in with older kids that beat him and Ma Gunn who was exploiting children’s vulnerability.

I assume Winick took that and maybe decided that was the moment when Jason knew that even if Batman was trying to do good, he still didn’t see Gotham (or that side of Gotham) for what it truly was.

When Jason became Robin and worked along with Batman, we could already see that Jason thought very differently about what should be done with rapists, and abusers of all kinds, Jason saw the world differently when he was a kid and a teenager and then after his death, Winick used that to build a Jason Todd that as a young adult still saw Gotham for what it truly was.

“There was a lot of his past to explore but it wasn’t explored that deeply”.

I am really confused by this (and I am very dumb), did you mean that his past before his death wasn’t explored? Because that was not the point of this book, the information was already there with Jason’s previous appearances in comics, and even then, Winick explored through flashbacks in UtRH how he saw Jason and what it was that Jason thought about crime.

If you didn’t mean that and you meant his past before the events of UtRH but after his death then, well, I would say that Winick couldn’t have fit that in UtRH but he did write a story about that time in 2010 when he wrote Red Hood: Lost Days.

“I absolutely hated his Bruce and Talia characterization”

I will only talk about the Bruce part here because you mentioned Talia later in your ask.

To me his Bruce was perfect. I really think that his characterization of him was spot on, but maybe I am biased because I don’t like Bruce at all? I suppose that you are talking about Bruce’s characterization in those last moments in "crime alley" with Jason and Joker? And how he decided that making Jason drop the weapon by throwing a batarang to his throat and saving Joker was a better option than Jason killing the Joker?

If it is that then I would love to see what you think Bruce would have done at that moment because I didn’t really see Bruce using a gun (in any way) as an in-character thing for him, and even though DC has always danced with the idea of Bruce actually killing somebody I know that they wouldn’t have him do it, and even less when it comes to killing the Joker.

I mean, Bruce brought back Joker from the dead when Dick finally killed that piece of shit so, yeah, I don’t know.

I feel like Winick was trying to show just how loyal and squared Bruce is when it comes to his own no killing rule. Jason wasn’t asking for Bruce to go on a killing spree he just wanted Bruce to kill the Joker and he didn’t. Winick even had Bruce say that about him not wanting to kill one person because he felt that if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to stop and I think that’s pretty true. Maybe it is a bit too much but I don’t think it’s a lie.

“How he wrote Talia in both UtRH and Lost Days was absolutely disgusting”

That is absolutely valid, listen, if you didn’t like how he wrote her at all I really can’t say anything against that. My first real and solid contact with Talia’s character was in that book, so when I read UtRH I really liked how he wrote Talia in that, it seemed to have that aspect of Talia’s love for Bruce being so strong that when she saw Jason was alive, she wanted to help him so Bruce could see how much he loved her. It is messed up but I believed it fitted her character, she had good intentions but her reasoning was a little bit wonky.

With Lost Days, I thought that her character was well written, she isn’t a hero and she isn’t a villain, she is just a player in the game that is the League of Assassins and that world. That obviously changed up until we had that scene happen between her and Jason, I was grossed out and I didn’t understand why that had happened which leads me to what you said next in your ask.

“His explanation for why he did it was that Jason loves Talia and that they were both messed up people”.

This is a part of the interview where Judd Winick answered a question about Jason and Talia sleeping together. The interview was done by Sara Lima in ComicVine’s podcast.

“SL: Why did you decide to write the romantic scene between Jason and Talia in Lost Days?

JW: For those playing at home, Jason Todd, at the end of Red Hood: Lost Days, and Talia slept together. I did that because it was really disturbing and to shine a light on the fact that these are not really well people. A lot of people didn’t like that, which was correct. “You weren’t supposed to like that. That was supposed to be, ‘oh God, stop that, what are you doing?’ It really was. As well as, for Talia, her reasons, being that Bruce had wound up inadvertently killing her father and she was ragingly angry with him and went from love to pure hate and still loving him at the same time. And Jason, given the opportunity to have sex with just about the only woman who Bruce has had sex with or really cares about, ‘Yeah, I’ll go there.’

SL: He’s like, ‘yeah, cause I hate that guy.’

JW: Yeah! ‘I hate that guy!’ And I think that Jason probably had the hots for Talia. She’s hot, he doesn’t exactly have a lot of relationships going on – It’s not a good thing for either of them. These are two people who murder people, two people who are screwed up, screwed up emotionally. There’s this question that why would he do that and Talia only loves Bruce. She might only love Bruce, but she does have sex with other people because that’s just sex. And we’re all grown-ups here. I think those who shake their fist and get angry at this kind of thing might be some of our older readers. I’m an older reader, but I acknowledge the fact that people aren’t that chaste and grow up: people have sex. That’s why I ended it like that; It was messed up.

Maybe it was in another interview or something but this is the only time that I have seen Winick talk about that and I don’t think he mentioned Jason loving Talia but he did say said that “These are two people who murder people, two people who are screwed up, screwed up emotionally”.

When I looked it up, I found that someone that is described as screwed up is a person that is “emotionally disturbed”. That description is one that I feel is valid for both Jason and Talia at the time, they both had a lot going on and were fighting some demons so maybe it’s not a nice thing to say but I can’t say that the statement isn’t true. Or at least that’s how I see it.

When I came across that interview for the first time, I wasn’t expecting Winick to apologise for writing that interaction but I did want an explanation so after he said, “A lot of people didn’t like that, which was correct. “You weren’t supposed to like that. That was supposed to be, ‘oh God, stop that, what are you doing?’ It really was” and “for Talia, her reasons, being that Bruce had wound up inadvertently killing her father and she was ragingly angry with him and went from love to pure hate and still loving him at the same time. And Jason, given the opportunity to have sex with just about the only woman who Bruce has had sex with or really cares about, ‘Yeah, I’ll go there.’”

I felt like that was enough, granted I didn’t like it and I still don’t like it but I don’t see it as Winick writing something disturbing with evil intentions, I just see it as him writing these two morally grey people doing some very morally grey stuff.

This is not me saying that this is how things have to be taken, I know and understand many people who absolutely don’t like this at all and that’s valid. I am not here to change your mind about that, personally when I read the why he wrote that I felt like that explanation was enough but that is just me.

“I feel like he was a one-hit-wonder because ever since UtRH his Jason story started to go downhill”

I think Winick was only meant to write Jason’s comeback to comics, around the time he was writing Outsiders and Green Arrow. And there was also the “Infinite Crisis” (Winick wasn’t involved with that one) event going on in the middle that explained some stuff like how Jason was resurrected which was explored in Batman Annual #25 in 2006 (like a year after the UtRH book had come out and it was also written by Winick). Then with the popularity of the UtRH book the animated movie was made (written by Judd Winick) and because that was coming out DC allowed Winick to write the six-issue mini of Red Hood: The Lost Days in 2010.

The UtRH story didn’t go downhill, DC simply couldn’t handle that level of mature storytelling at the time, just after that event ended DC was already planning on changing stuff and then the New 52 came years later.

Winick’s Jason even made an appearance in Outsiders #44-46, there Red Hood wanted to help the Outsiders break out a good man (Black Lightning) out of prison because he hadn’t killed anyone (it had actually been Slade). Jason/Red Hood’s characterization and story going downhill wasn't on Winick, it was on DC and their lack of interest in making their characters complex and dual.

“DC doesn’t know how to write a character that’s from a poor background and that’s a huge disservice to Jason”

Absolutely. But in my case, I do think that Winick did work with Jason’s background very well. To me, he set a path and no one could follow it but I might also be horribly wrong.

I also hope that Rosenberg does an amazing job! I absolutely love his work, as I have said before he is super funny and isn’t scared of writing characters who kill. I feel like he will bring back the sarcastic little shit that Jason once was but he will also bring back that sense of seriousness and dedication that Jason has for the work that he is doing. Rosenberg even showed us some of that in that prelude to Task Force Z in Detective Comics, I absolutely recommend them if you haven’t read them, issues #1041 and #1042 were the ones with that backup story.

I can see that we have very different opinions but that’s just a part of the comic world, we all perceive these comics differently and that’s valid! I am glad you enjoy reading my posts and I hope that even though we have those different opinions you were still able to enjoy my answer! If you think that I misunderstood anything that you say please let me know, sometimes my brain just doesn’t click.

Hope you have a fantastic week!

#jason todd #red hood #robin jason todd #utrh #red hood lost days #jasons characterization #dc comcis #asksss

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titilationexpress · 3 years

Text

StarscreamxReader-Sweet Dreams are made of Screams Ch.1

First ever lemon. Please give your input. Reposting from my Ao3.

You haven’t been able to sleep properly for weeks now. And frankly, you’re wondering if you ever will again in your lifetime.

Yet what caused you to have such a problem with something that once came to you so easily? Ok, maybe not easily. No, scratch that. It was never easy. You had to take some sleeping pills every night to even get a few hours in. Still, how did it happen?

Well, the trouble had started back not long ago. In fact, from what you could recall, it hadn’t even been a full month before your ‘problem’ started. See, you were a fairly average individual. You had your quirks, your habits, the little things that make each person an individual. One particular interest you had though was quite specific, and even more, came from a decade long before you were born.

Transformers.

Oh yes, your beginnings were humble when you first started with the franchise, and you looked with wide, awe-filled eyes. Your starting place was where you first discovered it, the one show that will remain in your heart forever. From that, you got into the characters, the story, the lore of what started as a toyline for young boys (though it was clear now that both sexes had a love for it), all of it. And from there, you went on to past and future generations from your starting point, and now, you were a certified Transformers fan! Hell, one of your favorite sites ever is TFWiki.

With this entrance into the fandom, you took to devouring everything that you could: the cartoons and animes, the books, the movies, fanfiction, fanart, fan comics, doujinshi, anything and everything that you could get your hands on, you did. And not long after, you began contributing yourself, drawing, writing, whatever you could to make your stand and have your place in the community. At first, it worked well enough, you weren’t exactly prolific, yet you were doing well enough. You managed to get a few requests for certain things to be drawn/written, believe it or not, but still, you weren’t overly big.

And then came your discovery of the Reader genre.

What is the Reader genre? Why, as far as you were concerned, only one of the greatest genres ever to be conceived! Well, to be more accurate, the form of writing wasn’t anything new, remembering the ‘Choose Your Adventure’ books. It seemed said genre now spread everywhere, you being very aware of the numerous games and dating sims that ranged from well done and engaging to outright ridiculous and stupid (but those were fun in their unique way). And since you didn’t have any knowledge or time to do that, you settled for writing them yourself. Your first piece was a simple Optimus x Reader with the standard plot and standard outcome, which was a declaration of love and a resulting kiss with the Autobot Leader. You were NOT expecting the overflow of response that it had gotten. You were quite shocked, but at the same time, overjoyed. Soon, you decided to try your luck with another one, this one being of Bumblebee, the scenario being mostly the same, albeit with a bit more cutesy fluff, as in your mind, Bumblebee was always the little guy. This one was just as successful, and you beamed, having finally found your calling.

Since then, you were getting requests left and right for more and more choices, all spanning different universes. From the animated cartoons to the comics, different universes, everything that spanned from the most well-known incarnations to the more obscure. It was through these that you managed to get even more into the Transformers multiverse as a whole and even discovered some truly overlooked gems. You opened yourself up to the people and declared that you would write whatever they requested, but you had some taboos that you wouldn’t touch. But any scenario, character, and universe, all of that was fair game.

You had originally begun working on more mundane, typical stories with expected outcomes (but sweet ones nonetheless), yet over time, the requests and your imagination began getting more creative and crazy. Soon, you were delving into several different areas that you had never touched. Elves, goblins, mermaids, vampires, forbidden love, love triangles, all of these were laid at your feet. And while it took a bit to find your rhythm, all of this having come on you so fast, you eventually got it and soon, you had a wide collection of X Reader stories, ranging from G1 to Prime and IDW’s run.

You mainly did Autobots, for you had to admit that writing for them, while they were still complex characters, came somewhat easier for you. True, each of them had their faults and quirks (both from canon and headcanons people had come up with), yet they were still the good guys, and even those with more questionable morality still came out as heroes in the end. But then one day came where you were asked to write about a Decepticon. This threw you for a loop, as, while the thought had intrigued you, you had been writing for good guys for some time, so a total shift in direction was somewhat off-putting and scary. Possibilities of it being too saccharine or sweet, or getting the characters wrong or out of character scared you a bit, yet still, you wanted to test the waters and see if you could do it. And if you could, this would open up so much more for you.

And judging from the input, you had just struck gold yet again.

Soon, not only were you flooded with requests for Autobots, but now their foes were also available, and, as you found out, people had just as much an attraction for the darkness as they did for the light. Again, the same scenarios were implemented, yet now, they had something of a darker edge to them, which allowed you to explore some subjects you couldn’t touch with the Autobots without toning it back somewhat. In a way, the Decepticons provided you with more freedom. Ironic, seeing as Megatron’s motto was “Peace through Tyranny.”

That said, you went through the list of available characters throughout the generations, and so far, those had been garnering quite a following as well, your Autobot and Decepticon stories neck and neck in popularity. Everything seemed to be going well for you.

Then that one question came.

‘Hey, where’s Starscream?’

Then another.

‘Could you write one about Starscream?’’

Then another.

‘Hey, hate to bother you, yet I think that Starscream could use some love here.’

More and more questions and requests for the particular Decepticon filled your messages, and frankly, you were at a loss on what to do. Truth be told, you and Starscream had something of a complicated history. When you had gotten into Transformers, you had heard of the character, yet at first, you never saw why he had gained such a large fanbase. True, he wasn’t a bad character, yet he wasn’t your favorite. But over time, as you wrote more and more for the Decepticons, as well as read X Reader stories from other people, you slowly began to, as one would say, gain an interest in the winged robot. And soon, you found yourself enamored by the smug jerk as well.

But this only made you reluctant to write for him.

True, when you started writing for the Decepticons, you were allowed to experiment with some more intimate and extreme situations, yet with Starscream...it was different. It was hard to explain, yet whenever you got a request to write for him, your brain seemed to seize up. Thoughts came to your head that you had tried to banish, thoughts that came every time you saw the Seeker’s name. You had no idea what was going on or why this was so difficult, yet it seemed the Silver Snake had taken to making your fingers not touch the keyboard.

You had no idea at all. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

And since you had gotten the slew of requests, your sleep problems began. The moment you shut your eyes, the scenario began all over again.

…

You needed no introduction to where you were or what you were seeing, it all quite familiar to you now. Around you were towering walls of a silvery mauve color, the only available light from above sparse and leaving several areas coated in darkness. This place was all too familiar, for you had seen it many times in your watching and reading of Transformers.

You were in Decepticon headquarters.

Your dreams had been filled with the base of the enemy faction of the Autobots, and at first, it had shocked you as to why you were here at all. But over time, night after night, you came here, and soon, you grew accustomed to the sight of it. You took on the form of your Transformers persona/OC or remained in your regular, human form, whatever pleased you as if you had some control over this environment. Yet as you grew more familiar (you were never sure if you’d be comfortable), you began to explore the place, finding that, to your surprise, there was no one here. No signs of any sort of life aboard the ship, and while it took a good while, you traveled everywhere you could think of, and still, nothing. No Megatron, no other Decepticons, no one but you had been aboard.

At least, that was what you believed when you first had this dream. Then, you heard it. The voice. His voice.

“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”

Singing, serenading, just loud enough for you to hear, yet low enough for you to know it was far away. It always started this way.

“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man,”

Your ears/audio receptors registered the voice as it echoed throughout the ship. When the dreams had begun, you knew immediately who was singing, and then you were more surprised at how it sounded. Sure, it had its infamous high pitch, yet it wasn’t bad to listen to. Daresay, it was rather enjoyable in its own way.

“I come in the middle of the night and frighten bad little girls like you.”

The first few times you had this dream, it would almost always startle you, yet it led you to look down the other balls and corridors of the ship. The results were always the same though: no one was aboard. No one but you...and him.

“Beware, better have a care,”

The song changed each and every time you entered the dream, tonight being a track you heard on a video game you played not too long ago (Bioshock 2 you believed). Yet the songs always had the same effect on you.

“I’m going to follow you everywhere.”

Despite your trepidation, you wanted...needed to follow it.

“I crawl through the ceiling and the wall and call on bad little girls like you.”

Walking, then running, you traversed the winding path before you, taking several left and right turns, having no sense of direction but that voice. A voice that, despite its infamous sound, held power to it, a siren’s song in a way. Ironic, you thought. Still, you followed, for you had reached your limit. You knew what would happen if you didn’t find him.

“I’ll torture you and hunt you,”

And never leave.

I’ve got you where I want you,”

And never let you escape this dream.

“A victim of my dark and dirty plot.”

And he knew it too. He knew he had power over you. And you hated it.

“And at the slightest whim, I’ll tear you limb from limb,”

Or…

“In other words, I’ll put you on the spot.”

Did you?

“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”

You were close. So dangerously close.

“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man.”

Just a turn around the corner.

“I come in the middle of the night and frighten…”

He paused, you stopping in your tracks at what you saw. There he was. Situated behind violet bars of energy in a cell, the Decepticon stood there with his arms folded and looking upon you with satisfied, hungry red eyes.

“...bad little girls like you.”

It was him.

Starscream.

Your favorite incarnation of Starscream, those ruby orbs boring into your own eyes/optics. You stepped back from the cell, eyes/optics wide at what was before you. Sure, if you were to go by dream logic, some part of you always knew that it was ‘him’ that awaited you at the end of this journey, but still, to actually see him, standing there so casually when it looked like he was locked up, it chilled you. As if he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

“My, my, so you finally found me,” he said, his voice perfectly matching the incarnation that stood before you. “Or rather, I found you. Whichever way it goes, it doesn’t matter,” he smirked. “For I already know the outcome.”

You blinked a few times, still trying to see if who was before you had truly been there. “St…” you began nervously. “Starscream?”

The Decepticon chuckled and stepped out of the shadows, allowing you to fully see him. “In the mesh,” he said. “And I see that introductions won’t need to be made either, will they, Y/N?” your eyes/optics went wide. “That’s right, pet, I know everything. This IS your mind after all.”

“Wh-What?” you stammered. “I don’t understand.”

Starscream’s grin only grew wider. “You will soon. You will understand EVERYTHING.”

Just what was he talking about? From the looks of it, he seemed to be enjoying your tension and trepidation, very amused. Your mind went into fan mode, recalling every fact you had known of Starscream and his various incarnations, which then led to you going on the defensive. “You…” albeit, it took you a try or two. “You’re the one that’s been doing this to me. Giving me these...these weird dreams.” the Decepticon didn’t answer, yet it was clear that he already knew that the secret was out (even if it wasn’t much of one). “You’re also the one that’s not letting me have one decent night’s sleep without being trapped here!”

“Or me serenading you?” he added in. “How do you like it? I don’t do it often, yet if I wish, I can stretch out my vocal components if I want.”

Your cheeks grew hot. Damn, this bastard was already making you too wound up, and you had only gotten a few words in! “Well...I’m here now,” you said, trying to sound confident, and, ironically enough, trying to channel Megatron’s dominating aura. “So, what do you want?”

This didn’t phase him in the slightest. Despite him being the one locked up, you were the one who felt like his prisoner. “I think you already know that dear Y/N,” he said. “But to put it simply, I’m feeling left out.”

You were confused. “Left out?” You asked. “Left out of…” you paused. Indeed, you knew well what he was talking about. “My...my reader inserts.”

Starscream nodded. “Quite an extensive library you’ve built up over time.” He told you. “Though your choices could be much better.” he scoffed. “Of course goody-good Prime would be on the list, along with the rest of the Auto-dolts.” Then he grimaced. “Yet there are those that actually want to FRAG Megatron? Ugh! No taste at all!” He then looked back at you. “You’ve written for everyone, from either faction, of every series,” he then pouted. “But none for me. Truly, Y/N, I’m hurt.”

You felt quite awkward. True, while you were known online for your stories, it was your username and persona they were seeing. They weren’t someone that was right around the corner that could walk in and see you writing these things. While you loved doing it, the thought of your family or friends discovering you wrote in this genre was a thought you dared not entertain, as you swore that you’d die from embarrassment. Thus, you were very careful whenever you did it, your room completely locked tight so you could focus without fear of someone barging in. The only times you left during your writing periods were for bathroom breaks and/or to eat/drink something. It was a big secret...and thinking about it now, it was a secret no more to the most infamous backstabber in all of Transformers. You had been found out.

“Well...so what? Are you going to keep haunting me until I do?” you asked. “You can’t do that!”

Starscream didn’t seem phased by this at all. That damned smirk of his both frustrated and made you excited, a combination that left you very unsure. “Can’t I?” he asked.

You didn’t like his tone. “What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s consider for a moment, Y/N,” he said. “You believe that I’m merely a figment of your imagination, yes? A stubborn thought that is lodged in your subconscious. Am I right?” you shifted a bit, knowing well what he was saying would lead to something else. Something that probably would flip everything on its head. “Well...who’s to say that I am?”

“I...I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. But what I say might just jog your memory.” he then went on. “In your last X Reader, you spoke of multiple versions of the characters, such as Prime and...yes, even Megatron,” Starscream scoffed. “And how it would’ve been peculiar if they met. Then, one of your readers linked you to a page on the TFWiki.” Starscream then chuckled. “Quite an array of knowledge, I must say. Especially for a primitive species such as yourselves. Anyway, said page spoke of what is labeled as the Transformers Multiverse, which, if I may say, is an excuse for you all to toy with and shape us into what YOU want. But back on track, you did a small amount of research on that, then went on about your business.”

“...and what does this have to do with why you’re here?”

Starscream smirked. “Then, after some time, you went and read the entries of me from various series and incarnations. To get a better feel for what you were thinking of writing. What you wanted to write. Only, you never did.” You were about to speak again, but the seeker spoke again before you could. “There was one detail from my earliest incarnation that spoke of a ‘ghost’, an immortal spark that couldn’t be snuffed out. One that could travel through space and time.” He drew closer to the bars. “And then discovered a way to travel through dimensions. Wherein, I found out all about how so many humans have seen my reality behind a television screen.”

What was he talking about? What did any of what he said mean? It was then that it all clicked for you. Sparks were essentially the ‘soul’ of a Transformer, which Starscream’s was indestructible. You read that he made an appearance in Beast Wars, and had made cameos elsewhere. What was before you right now...mere feet away…” Are you.. “ you stammered. “Are you really…”

The Decepticon nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am, Y/N.”

You were left speechless. No. No, this...this was impossible. It...it couldn’t be him! It couldn’t be the REAL Starscream! He was a cartoon, no, a toy! A damn toy! A toy from the eighties that were made to be marketable to young boys (and the girls that were secretly into it) among several other toys that were made be marketable to young boys (and again, the girls that were secretly into it)! There was NO way he was in your mind right now! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t-

“You step out into the chilled air, wrapping your arms around yourself as you do.” the Decepticon suddenly began. “He’s there to pick you up. He’s there to pick you up. You’re both terrified and exhilarated, eager to start the night, but also to make it fly by just enough so nothing embarrassing would happen between the two of you.” your jaw dropped when you heard him say that. How did he- “Know that you recently read over your very first entry? The one that started it all?” he then ‘rolled’ his eyes. “The one that clearly displayed that you had little taste at first?”

Of course, you did! That was from your very first X Reader story! It told of Optimus Prime and you, a human, in a relationship. Odd start, you knew, especially given that Transformer x Human relations was sort of controversial, yet overall, it wasn’t a bad one. Still, the fact he knew that…” No.” you said aloud. “It can’t be.”

He smiled. “I am.”

You stepped back until you hit a wall. “S-Starscream.” you stuttered. “You’re him. You’re the...the real one.” he was quite satisfied with your reaction, you clearly flustered yet cautious at the same time. The sensation drove you mad. But then you remember, this was just a dream! You were just making up all this stuff! You were relieved by this revelation...yet at the same time, you were...curious. Just where would this go if you continued? “Well...well, what are you doing here? What do you want?”

“Exactly as I said before, I feel left out,” Starscream told you. “And considering my popularity in this universe, I’d think me being here should tell you something.”

You knew what he wanted. “You want me to write about you.” it was obvious. “I-I know. I mean, I’ve been wanting to. Really, I have. But...but I...I just…” you sighed. If you knew Starscream (and you had at least a decent enough faith you did), you knew that this could potentially earn you his anger. Yet, to your surprise, he didn’t try to order you around. Instead, he seemed like he already knew you were going to say that.

“You can’t,” he said for you. “Understand, I’m the one in YOUR mind. Thus, you could say, I know everything about you. A perk of being something that, in this universe, started out as a drawing on a piece of paper.” you were confused, this seemed to humor Starscream even more. “Oh, come now. Surely you know that concept art exists, right?”

All of this was so insane for you, yet it was then that you felt the urge to speak up and say something for yourself for once. “Well, if you’re here from the...well, YOUR universe, what are you doing here in the first place?”

“Why, this is one of the few places I win!” Starscream exclaimed. “Of course, when I first came here, I was quite perplexed about how I and many others were known as products from a company called ‘Hasbro’. But overtime, I discovered your version of the internet, and, well, as you flesh bags say, the rest is history.” he then continued, not giving you a chance to speak. “And bring that I am an idea in this universe, I can go freely as I wish, peering into minds,” his red eyes looked upon you. “Become one’s permanent muse or vice versa.”

God, you felt weird. You felt so confused and conflicted. You wanted to sink into the wall to get away, but you also wanted to know more about this. You had to know more. You needed to know more. “So…?”

“So, I’ve come to you, as you’re truly in need of some inspiration,” Starscream said. “As well as some changes in your thinking.”

“Like what? Worshiping the ground you walk on?” you ask, feeling a little bolder.

“Oh, you already do.” he said. “If you didn’t desire me, I wouldn’t be here.” he grinned at your shocked expression. “That’s right, Y/N, I know what truly holds you back from writing about me. Your fears, your anxieties, your loves and lusts.” you had no words. “You fear that you may get me wrong if you will. That I won’t be in character. Or you fear that you won’t be able to satisfy the wants of your readers, as I AM so highly anticipated. Or…” he leaned closer to the bars, the only barrier separating you two. “You fear exploring those more intimate pleasures with me. You’re intimidated and unsure. After all, writing for Autobots is easy, yet us Decepticons are more difficult. But it HAS awakened things in you that you wish to explore on either side. Things that you are dying to let out.”

You had no words, he was completely right. Damn him! The smug bastard knew he had you in the palm of his hand...and yet also probably knew that’s what made you so hot and bothered right now! “So...what? Are you here to force me to write those things with you in them?”

“Dear Y/N, I can’t technically make you do anything,” Starscream told you. “Oh yes, I can stay and torment you night after night until either I pass onto another universe or I grow bored of you, but my reason being here is for both our benefits.”

“How?”

“It’s quite simple,” he said. “We shall go through those scenarios in your head.” his ruby red optics bore into yours/your eyes. “Together.” he then reached out from in between the bars and traced a digit around your jawline. “Believe it or not, I want to help you, Y/N.” his voice was smooth and sultry, something you never expected from a voice like his. “But only you can allow me to do so.” he then stepped back from the bars. “This prison of mine is something you’ve constructed from your fears and insecurities. Allow yourself to embrace what you fear…” he then extended his hand again, yet stepped back as well, sinking into the darkness. “Only then, will you truly be free.”

You were at a standstill. You knew what he wanted, and, to your horror, you were wanting to give it to him. Deny it all you want, this was something that had been in your mind ever since you got the first request for the Seeker. You approached the bars, trying to get some sign that he was still there. Surely he hadn’t left you, had he? No, he hadn’t. He was still there, you could feel him. Watching, waiting, and perhaps, knowing what you would do before you did.

Yet would you do it? Would you bite into that forbidden fruit?

Some while after pondering this question, you looked at the cell, the energy bars vanishing. Why fight it when you could already taste the sweet tartness of said fruit in the back of your throat?

#starscream g1 #starscream #tfp #transformers bayverse #transformers animated #transformers cyberverse #transformers x reader #lemon #set up #fanfic #reader #self insert #first part

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amor-immortalem · 3 years

Text

Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever ch.4

Taglist: @mediocredetective

Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse and neglect

“So, what’s the plan for today? Or are we jus’ stayin’ home all day?” Mammon asks as he lugs the suitcase he brought with him into the bedroom and opened some dresser drawers to put his clothes away.

“I figured we could go out and explore more of the city together. Plus, I want to get a few more pieces of furniture to fill out the house.” Arella runs a hand through her hair as she stretches. “Breakfast was great, by the way. Thank you.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that good- not compared to last night’s dinner anyway...”

“Don’t put yourself down like that, Honey.” The human gets off the bed to hunt for some clothes of her own. “You’re cooking is good, okay?”

He nods slowly. “Not if you ask my brothers though... One of ‘em always has something ta say ‘bout it- and none of its good. Even Beel has complaints sometimes.”

She frowns in response. “Well, I’ll have you know I genuinely enjoy your cooking. I wouldn’t mind if you cooked for us more often.”

Another nod from the demon as he returns to his task of emptying out his suitcase and Arella continues her search for the perfect outfit.

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“Where is he, Solomon,” The Avatar of Pride questions the sorcerer as he stands in the foyer of Purgatory Hall.

“I’ve already told you, Lucifer.” Solomon replies with a smile on his face. “I don’t exactly know. The human world is the best answer I can give you.”

The demon studies the human for a moment to deduce whether or not he’s lying about know where Mammon is. “Where in the human world?”

“I don’t know. Arella wouldn’t tell me where exactly she was summoning him to.” It’s a tiny lie. Of course, he knew exactly where they were, but Lucifer didn’t need to know that. “I have no reason to lie to you, Lucifer, but why exactly is it that you want to find your brother so badly?”

“I want to... apologize for my actions. It seems, after further review of the situation, that I was wrong. The bill I received was full of fraudulent charges to his credit card. Does that change your answer?” The first-born narrows his eye as the silver-haired sorcerer shook his head. “Then I’ll be off. If you hear anything, I want to be the first to hear about it.

Solomon only nodded, an amused smile playing on his lips. He wondered just how long it would take the demon to pinpoint Mammon and Arella’s location.

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They bounced from shop to shop throughout the day finding many cute trinkets and knick-knacks on their journey. The cutest ones- and Mammon’s personal favorite- was a set of crows sitting on a tree branch together, their bodies turned away with their heads pressed together so that they formed the shape of a heart. He instantly picked it up after Arella made the comment that the crows were representative of them and their love.

As their small shopping spree came down to an end, they had stopped to take a break in a park, just taking a moment to rest and enjoy the beautiful day. It filled Mammon with a warm feeling he wasn’t quite sure he could name just yet so he just opted to hold her hand as they relaxed on the park bench as a few small families played nearby.

His attention in particular was pulled to one certain family: A mother and father with their three boys. Watching them drug up a desire he thought he’d never have.

“Hey, babe,” He starts quietly.

“Yes, Love?” she hums in response.

“Do... Do ya want kids...?”

“Do you?” Arella replies with a question of her own, green eyes peering up at the demon.

“I asked you first.”

With a chuckle she answers, “Yes... having children with you wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I’d love to one day down the road. How many do you want?”

“Just one would be good enough,” He smiles, resting his cheek against the top of her head as they sit there in peace for a while longer.

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Sitting in his office, attempting to keep his mind off Mammon, Lucifer was working on his ever-growing stack of paperwork. It wasn’t working and something in the back of the demon’s mind was gnawing at him. Something Arella had said to him roughly a month ago about stealing his brother away to the human realm and never returning. A laughable idea for as much as he knew she wasn’t joking; she really held no power to make that decision. Mammon was a demon- one of the seven lords of hell. His place was here in the Devildom whether she liked it or not. Mammon himself had to realize this was all pointless eventually and then he would come home and that would be the end of it. Or at least that’s what Lucifer hoped anyway. He really didn’t want to have to drag his brother back here kicking and screaming.

Stepping away from the old, worn-out desk, the eldest decides a break for tea and a phone call might do better to take his mind of things for the time being.

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Putting up her dusty old tomes on various mythologies of the ancient past, Aubrie could just barely hear the phone. Hopping down off the ladder, the mythologist swiped up the device- a gift from the only demon in her contacts. He was lucky she didn’t have it turned off like she usually did while she was working.

“Good evening, Lucifer,” Holding the shiny D.D.D. to her ear, she answered with a chirp. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Good evening, Aubrie.” Lucifer’s voice is smooth as silk and Aubrie has to wonder if he just naturally talks like that or he was using that ‘seductive speechcraft’ Arella had mentioned some time ago to get whatever it was that he wanted from their conversation. “Have you spoken to Arella recently?”

“I have. You know she just moved from England, right?” The ginger chirps. “I texted with her this morning to see how it went.”

“Actually, I didn’t.” The Avatar of Pride hummed as he sipped on his tea. “That’s interesting. Where abouts did she move?”

“I wish I knew. The best I can say is somewhere in mainland Europe,” Aubrie lets out a sigh. “I want to go visit her. I can’t imagine how lonely it is to move to an entirely different country where you’re alone- although for Arella that’s pretty on character...”

“She does seem independent,” Lucifer hums, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Actually, that’s part of the reason I called. I’m sure she told you that my brother’s with her when you spoke earlier... I need her to send him back. He can’t be missing so much school- his grades are already abysmal to begin with and the longer she keeps him up there, the worse they’ll get. Plus, I have things I need to talk with him about.”

“She's worried about his safety with you, Lucifer. Apparently, you broke his elbow somehow? Or something to that effect.”

“I didn’t break his elbow. No, he did that on his own by falling on it, but my actions helped lead to it so I have some blame in it.” The black-haired demon sighs, “That’s why I’m looking for them. I want to apologize to Mammon- he didn’t exactly deserve what I did that led up to him breaking his elbow.”

The human nods at that. “And here I thought you would be too proud to apologize.” She teased.

“If it were anyone other than my brothers, maybe.” He admits. “But in their own way, each of my brothers are important to me. We’ve been together for eons. Losing a single one of them would be devastating to our family, Aubrie. Like right now, the house has been too quiet and dark since Mammon left for the human realm. Things aren’t right until he comes home.”

“I see, but if you knew your brother would be happier up here in the human world with Arella... would you let him go?”

“I can’t- and it's not because I don’t want him to be happy, quite the opposite, actually- if we were not of such high rank and standing, then I would be content to allow Mammon to follow what makes him happy- whether that be here in the Devildom or up in the human world to allow him to live amongst the humans.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm sure Arella has told you about our rank here in the devildom. We’re each to rule over a layer of Hell once we leave RAD in a few years. Mammon has a responsibility to the Devildom as Lord of the Fourth Layer. It's not a thing that he can just leave behind in favor of spending the rest of his human’s minimal lifespan up in the mortal realm.”

“You could be less harsh on him though. I know our morals on what is wrong and right are different and it’s foolish for us to force our morals on to literal demons from some of the stories she mentions about the way you all treat your brother... Well, it sounds like abuse to me and for someone like Arella, that’s very triggering for her.”

“What do you mean by that?” Lucifer’s interest was piqued at the human’s words. He knew next to nothing about Arella’s past before the exchange program and she never talks about her past to begin with so having the opportunity to hear about it was enticing to the Avatar of Pride.

“Her home life when we were children was... less than happy. Her mother was physically, emotionally, and verbally abusive as well as neglectful. I have plenty of pictures from when we were children where she’s covered in bruises, black eyes, busted lips. She would never say anything against her mother so protective services couldn’t do anything for her, but we all knew that woman was the cause of them. So you see, the way you treat your brother drudges up all that old trauma for her and that’s why she behaves the way she does. Wouldn’t you do the same thing if you were in her shoes, Lucifer?”

“You’re not wrong.” He goes to take another sip of his tea but the cup is empty. “This was nice and also very insightful. I have to go now, enjoy the rest of your evening, Aubrie.”

“Thank you, Love. You too. Make sure to go to bed a reasonable time tonight.” There was a short pause on her end before Aubrie began sputtering apologies and trying to back pedal her way out of that embarrassing situation and the line eventually just cut off.

Lucifer couldn’t help but laugh softly at the ridiculousness of it all. Humans sure were a funny creature.

------------------------------------------------------

Find more writings on my masterlist

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! shall we date?#obey me fluff #obey me mammon #mammon fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me solomon #obey me oc #arella #aubrie

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neitherlightnordark · 3 years

Text

METTATON: A SINGULAR SPOTLIGHT.

METTATON: THE ROOM IS DIM. THE AIR IS NASCENT. EYES REST ON THE STAGE IN ANTICIPATION- CAN YOU FEEL IT? TASTE IT?

METTATON: THE PINK, THE BLUE, RISING HIGH IN THE AIR?

METTATON: THE HYPE, THE LOVE?

METTATON: IT'S ALL FOR ONE PERSON.

METTATON: ONE WONNNNDERFUL GENIUS LIZARD MONSTER.

METTATON: MONSTERS OF ALL AGES, WITH ALL THE GLEE I HAVE EVER CONTAINED, I PRESENT TO YOU:

METTATON: THE GREAT

METTATON: ILLUSTRIOUS

METTATON: SUPERB

ALPHYS: [snort]

METTATON: ALLLLLLLLPHYS!!!

[Canned applause.]

ALPHYS: T-thank you!

METTATON: REFRESHMENTS ARE PROVIDED IN THE SHAPE OF HER DISTINCTIVE FACE!

ALPHYS: Mettaton, let's-

METTATON: CARDBOARD CUTOUTS OF HER WAVING ARE SCATTERED ABOUT STRATEGICALLY, FOR OPTIMUM PHOTO OPS!

ALPHYS: Mettaton!!

METTATON: HER SAYING MY NAME MAKES ME REALLY, REALLY HAPPY, I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE THAT, BUT-

ALPHYS: Mettaton, heh- oh, geez, I didn't even get to introduce you properly-

ALPHYS: Okay, come on, s-sit down!

ALPHYS: And turn on the lights! I- I can barely see our notes this way.

METTATON: WAS THAT A GOOD INTRO?

ALPHYS: (Shh, shh, we're live!!)

ALPHYS: Uh, I mean, yes! Um, that was really good!

ALPHYS: Honestly, I'm- I'm shocked at how easy that looked for you, we barely rehearsed this...

METTATON: STARDOM IS INSTINCTUAL!

[Canned laughter.]

ALPHYS: R-right...

ALPHYS: Hi, audience!

ALPHYS: This is really just a test run, so, so sorry if we do any fumb- fumbling today...

ALPHYS: The first podcast of- of the Human Fanclub!

[Canned applause.]

ALPHYS:

METTATON: I THINK IT ADDS FLAIR.

ALPHYS: Pfhehehe...

ALPHYS: Today we're going to be talking about the one thing we're both really- really knowledgeable about! And that's inventions.

ALPHYS: Humans have built so many ama- amazing things. It's really only by scavenging from what drops down here that we have things like, like WiFi, and ovens and tablets...

ALPHYS: Which!

ALPHYS: Which, isn't really a, a good thing, but...

ALPHYS: Yeah.

METTATON: ONLY BY SAMPLING FROM THE MORALLY GRAY CAN A TRULY DECADENT MEAL BE MADE.

ALPHYS: I don't think that's a saying... I don't think anyone says that...

METTATON: BUT IT IS A GOOD ONE, RIGHT?

ALPHYS: Yeah, actually!

[Podcast music begins playing.]

ALPHYS: Umm, so when we first fell in the Underground we didn't have much technology at all. Lots of our magic did the work for us, like- like fire magic and healing attacks...

ALPHYS: And it wasn't like the R- the old Home was a hotspot for falling human trash!

ALPHYS: One of the first things we began innovating with was, curiously enough, puzzles. We knew how to build, we knew how to do baseline, baseline surviving down there, but... I dunno, it's just really interesting to me how we immediately turned to art like it was one of the key parts of surviving down there.

ALPHYS: Which it was!! We incorporated dangers into our puzzles that a human- a human wouldn't be able to pass through, sometimes. But mostly they were just exercises for children. A way to pass- to pass the time, to stretch out t-the days a little longer...

ALPHYS: Make the walk home a little more, um, eventful...

ALPHYS: Which I can, I can understand. L-like I said, staying stimulated and enriched was really important to keeping us alive.

ALPHYS: What's curious about this is that humanity- humanity mirrored us up top!

ALPHYS: Instead of having only the b-baseline of what they needed, they had literally everything. Perfect food, perfect- perfect medicine, plenty of green spaces to visit, mental health specialists, knights defending their k-kingdoms...

ALPHYS: So they began improving upon the more... the more fr-frivolous parts of life. Their data processors began- began running games. They began sending out stories that someone could listen to, and eventually see on a screen, from all over!

ALPHYS: At- it's funny because their stories became more varied and rich...

ALPHYS: From my research, though, ours just told the- the same ones, over and over.

METTATON: ANOTHER REASON HUMANS ARE SO FASCINATING.

ALPHYS: (Shh-shh!!)

ALPHYS: It's a matter of placement.

ALPHYS: I- I'm sure that if humans were locked under here by monsters, they'd be te-telling the same stories over and over too!!

ALPHYS: ...

METTATON: ...

ALPHYS: Anyway...

ALPHYS: We advance to... current times, when we've explored all the Underground has to offer. Tech- technology has really advanced due to us discovering a few more openings to Mount Ebott's surface- namely, the big cluster of holes in Waterfall!

ALPHYS: If you're a frequenter of the garbage dump,

ALPHYS: which I am,

ALPHYS: you've probably seen things down there that humans would consider priceless! Maybe you've discovered your favorite book down there. Maybe a really pretty sculpture of a frog.

ALPHYS: My personal favorite is- is any human history that falls down! Books, comics, whatever, it's always never what you expect.

ALPHYS: And it's always really... hopeful. Also something you don't really expect...

[Inspiring music slowly gets louder in the background.]

ALPHYS: Comparing our parallel histories from a point of something we have in common, like- like innovations, and how we react to getting better- is really interesting, because it shows that maybe...

ALPHYS: That maybe- Mettaton!

METTATON: WHAT? I'M BEING SO INSPIRED, ALPHYS!

ALPHYS: O-o-oh, it's- it's really nothing!! I'm just- I'm just saying what I think, and

METTATON: YOU SHOULD DO THAT MORE OFTEN!

ALPHYS: Mettaton!!

METTATON: AND THERE YOU HAVE IT, FOLKS!

ALPHYS: Yeah, that's- whew- that's a short one for today! Just- just to see what you guys think.

ALPHYS: If you liked the podcast, uh... stick around for the next one?

ALPHYS: Thank you for everyone who tuned in!

METTATON: THIS IS METTATON AND ALPHYS, HUMAN FANCLUB, SIGNING OFF!

ALPHYS: Oh, gosh, I need some water.

#alphys #mettaton #undertale #hfhdsfdafdshbHGSFDNfjdsgh TvT #first fic dudes!!#safeutdr #thank you to taliaxlatia for sending an ask in asking for alphys #so much!!#inthedarkofnight

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cutesilyo · 3 years

Text

no place in the world (like manila) — an amephil fanfic

A few months after the outbreak of the Philippine-American War, Alfred falls in love with and is betrayed by a bright-eyed teenager with the prettiest smile on this side of the Orient in a single night.

This is not a love story.

Also available on AO3.

—

"Sir, I don't think it's safe for you to leave the camp," Major-General MacArthur warned. "I don't know how, but the revolutionaries know your face. They could attack you!"

"Pshaw," Alfred snorted. "I'm a nation. What could they do that could take me down, huh?"

MacArthur's mustache bristled in displeasure. "Be that as it may sir, might I remind you that you only arrived in Manila a week ago? Knowing you, you'd just get lost and I'd have to put together a whole squad of troops just to hunt you down. You could get captured, Alfred. I don't know how to tell you just how badly that would bring down morale."

Alfred just wagged his fingers, a bright grin on his face. "Look, if I get captured, I'd bust out of whatever crappy holding place they'd put me in without barely breaking a sweat! And knowing our soldiers, that's just the stuff that would make a great story to tell at dinnertime. How's that for morale?"

The way that MacArthur simply stared at him blankly told Alfred that this was not a convincing argument.

"I hate it when you do that," he groaned, slumping back on his seat. The leather was hot with the heat of the tropical sun and it stuck uncomfortably to his skin. Oh, how badly he wanted to just finally get up and leave. "I'm just saying, I can't stay inside here forever just waiting for you to dictate our next move."

"It's part of our strategy—"

"And it's boring. I'm bored, Major-General. I might as well look around." Alfred's eyes glinted dangerously. "Besides, you'll capture the whole nation for me soon enough, won't you? No harm in wanting to see what we're winning once this war is over."

The silence lasted for a few seconds before the major-general sighed in defeat.

—

Private Patton R. Wilkes was assigned to “accompany” Alfred while he roamed around Manila, but he knew that MacArthur just wanted someone to make sure he would actually return to camp instead of getting lost or, God forbid, taking the next ship back to America. Though the both of them were dressed in civilian clothing, the private carried himself with a strict stiffness that just screamed hardened military man. If Alfred wanted any chance of escape, it looked like the private would be hard to shake off.

Alfred tried to stay optimistic about the trip anyway. He hadn't paid much attention to the city while he was on the way to the American camp, but he certainly expected it to have an air of exoticness. He was a bit disappointed not to see anything like the palaces of Japan or the distinctly oriental architecture of China. Instead, he found street signs written in Spanish, the excited chatter of fast-talking brown-skinned people, and the cacophony of guitars, church bells, and the sound of horse-drawn carriages trotting along the stoned roads. Walking around Manila was like looking at a funhouse mirror version of Mexico: more or less the same, but with just enough differences to make his head spin.

"Uh, you alright there, sir?" Patton asked.

"Was just thinking about a bad memory, is all," Alfred grimaced. He's sure that Alejandro would have his head once he returned to the continent. He's been pissing off a lot of Spanish-speaking nations recently, that's for sure. "Come to think of it, the Philippine Islands must have its own personification too, right?"

The private's face darkened. "He's a force to reckon with, sire. Haven't seen no hide nor hair of him myself, but some guys in the other squadron barely survived after fighting with the kid."

"A kid?" Alfred furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't know there were still nations out there who were that young. Then again, he was only a teenager himself, and he was even younger when he fought against Arthur as well. "I don't know how I feel about fighting a kid. Couldn't I just give him a lollipop or something and this could all just work itself out?"

He meant it as a joke, but Patton seemed to take it seriously and started furiously shaking his head. "Don't think you could even try negotiating with him sir, the kid's a savage. Hacked and slashed his way through the guys with some kind of golden knife, they said. We're lucky our medics are so darned fast, otherwise, we would've been down almost a dozen men from him alone."

Something in Alfred's resolve hardened at the thought of losing his soldiers to someone so brutal. He clapped the other man on the shoulder and said, "Don't you worry, Pat. We'll end this soon, and when we win, we'll make sure that nobody from these islands ever lays a hand on any of our own."

That seemed to comfort Patton somewhat, though he was still shaking with anger. "I'll give them a good walloping right by your side, sire."

"Now that's the kind of patriotic determination I wanna see!" Alfred crowed. He then immediately scrambled for his wallet and hurriedly gave the private a wad of bills. Some onlookers openly gawked at seeing the number of dollar bills in his hand. "Tell you what, why don't you buy some booze, head back to camp, and inspire your fellow soldiers, eh? God knows we need some fun around here."

"Um," Patton blinked, caught off-guard. "I don't know if Major-General MacArthur—"

"Tell Major-General MacArthur that I'm just trying to boost morale," Alfred winked. "Also, tell him I'll back by next morning!"

He didn't get to hear Patton's response as he took off running wildly in the opposite direction. He barely registered running past the stores, wet market, and the cathedral; he just wanted to be alone and independent, exploring this new land to his heart's content. The buildings were shorter and the roads were narrower here than in his own country, but Alfred was just so glad to finally be in a place filled with people just like he was used to.

Alfred collapsed on his knees, winded. When he looked up, he was surprised to see that he had apparently made it to one of Manila's many ports. Past the numerous small fishing boats and trading boats, he could see that the sun was already beginning to set. The sky was painted in a pretty combination of pinks and oranges in contrast to the ocean's blue, the stars already starting to twinkle faintly into appearance one by one. The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the rocks seemed louder than everything else around him — a stark reminder that no matter where he went, there was always something bigger to discover.

He stood there for a moment, mesmerized when a loud grunt startled him out of his stupor.

He turned to find some kind of bull staring at him with its beady eyes, its long horns curving towards the back instead of to the front. It was pulling a wagon full of leafy vegetables that Alfred couldn't recognize, and the old man riding it looked startled to come across a foreigner.

"Hijo, padaan naman po," he said, with a strained smile.

"Oh, sorry, I don't know what you mean," Alfred tried, but the man just continued smiling at him. He was starting to think that maybe abandoning Patton, who wasn't fluent but at the very least conversational in Tagalog, was a bad idea.

Luckily, someone came to his rescue. A teenager with bright eyes approached him, an amused twitch of the lips on his sharp face. He was dressed simply: unlike the suit and tie ensemble of the richer Filipinos he'd come across or the pale blue uniform of the Philippine Army, he wore a thin white top and trousers cut just above his ankles. The scabbard on his hip would have been concerning if Alfred didn't know just how many Filipinos carried knives in their daily lives. All in all, he looked just like any other street vendor, but the red handkerchief tied around his neck was vibrant enough to make him stand out. "You are American, yes?"

"Ah yeah," Alfred flushed, a bit flustered. The way the stranger leaned in was a little too close for comfort, but he looked harmless and at least he spoke English. "Can you help me? I think that man is talking to me, but I can't understand what he's saying."

The teenager grabbed his arm to pull him to the side. The old man tipped his straw hat in thanks, and the teenager smiled, saying: "Pasensya na po, lolo! Hindi kasi taga-rito."

The two of them watched the wagon pass them by. They stood there in silence for a moment, and then Alfred blurted out, "I didn't know I was in the way, I swear."

"You did seem quite distracted." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other boy laugh. The both of them turned to each other at the same time, a small smile on each other's faces. "Not that I blame you. I am sure you have sunsets in America, but it is different here than in other countries. I think the colors are more vibrant, do you agree?"

"Certainly takes my breath away," he admitted. "I do have to ask, how come you speak English so well? I've only been in Manila for a few days but I don't think I've met another Filipino that's as good as you are."

The teenager only laughed again and held on to Alfred's arm tighter. As he looked up at him, his eyes and grin were equally bright with mirth; and despite himself, Alfred was a bit charmed. "Us Filipinos are not as stupid as you think, señorito. Now, you say you are a stranger to Manila, yes? Come with me, and let me show you around my city."

—

They ended up hailing a tranvia, a carriage made to carry a whole group of people instead of just a pair. Alfred found it small and quaint, making an internal note to build tram lines in the city once he was able. Yet the energy that the teenager had with him was larger than life. He had apparently noticed the other passengers giving Alfred a suspicious side-eye, and immediately launched into a round of jokes to dispel the tension. Though he barely understood the jokes due to them being told in a mix of Spanish and Tagalog, the way that the whole tranvia burst into loud laughter was enough to assure him that his companion was quite the comedic performer.

When they got off, the driver even thanked them for the entertainment and told them not to pay the fare anymore. Alfred let out an excited whoo! as the teenager did an exaggerated bow.

As the carriage rode off, Alfred turned to his new friend and exclaimed, "Wow! The way you handled that was amazing! I mean, I've been through worse than an awkward train ride, but you definitely saved my ass back there."

The teenager blushed slightly. "Think nothing of it. I would rather see my companions happy and comfortable in my care than anything else."

"Still, that thing you did was certainly a swell sight." Alfred breathed in the cold evening air and let it out with a contented sigh. He looked straight into the other boy's eyes as he said, "And it's really nice that you're going through all the trouble to be with me tonight too! Like, we don't even know each other's names but you just whisked me away like some kind of fairytale hero! That was really awesome of you, I have to say."

"You are a man of sweet words," the teenager said, with a smile that looked almost bittersweet. Then, as if he had completely forgotten about his melancholy, he grabbed Alfred's arm again and dragged him towards the next street corner. "But let us not waste time talking! Most of these shops close soon, and I would hate for us to miss them!"

Helpless, Alfred let himself be strung along.

Sadly, most of the shops they went past had already closed for the day. Still, the teenager cheerily talked his ear off about what wares they sold and the local gossip about the people who ran those stores — like Pepito, owner of the clay pottery store, who had apparently given away all his lotto winnings to the next city's blacksmith. The one time that they had actually been able to buy something was when they came across a small, brightly-colored cart that apparently sold the Filipino version of ice cream. Both the vendor — Mang Tomas, as he was introduced — and the teenager had chuckled when he brought out a wallet full of dollars, so the teenager had to reach into his own pocket to pay with a few coins. As they walked past yet another cathedral, Alfred caught his friend singing the hymns under his breath. When they reached the plaza, the teenager then asked the lady standing nearby — Aling Nena, he was told — to give him a jasmine garland, the scent of the white flowers so powerful that it immediately made Alfred sneeze on his friend's face when he put them around his neck. Yet instead of getting mad like he expected, the teenager had only laughed and told him he looked handsome.

No matter where they went or who they talked to, his friend always seemed to know everyone's names. Alfred had no idea how he had the time to possibly get so familiar with all the people around him, but he certainly understood the sentiment; he loved talking with all the Americans that he came across with too. Personally getting to know the people who made his nation always made him feel more connected with them in a way that war and politics never could.

And if the Philippine Islands was truly to be his someday, Alfred knew he wanted to treat them similarly. More than anything or anyone else though, nobody in the archipelago had intrigued him most than the young man beside him whose smile was brighter than any star.

Yet all his experience in small talk failed him tonight, and not for lack of trying. Every time he asked questions about his friend, he was always diverted away from the topic.

Which part of the city are you from? was met with a vague Do you ask the flower which vine it came from? You are better off simply enjoying the whole garden.

Where is your family? had been completely ignored as his friend said You must be hungry, yes? I know a place with the best empanadas this side of Binondo.

What is your name? earned him a cheeky wink and a teasing If your mind still ventures to inane questions like that, then I am not doing very well in completely impressing you.

How old are you? made the teenager burst out into loud, hearty laughter that lasted for more than a minute. Alfred didn't even bother to try asking anything else after that, choosing to focus on his empanadas and arroz a la valenciana for the rest of the meal.

Later, when they were served a bottle of gin to share along with a bowl of peanuts, his friend had the grace to apologize for his behavior.

"I truly am sorry," he said, but the playful grin on his face made it difficult to take his apology seriously. "I simply do not think that you knowing more about me is more important than us having a good time together."

"How am I supposed to find you again if I don't know who you are, huh?" Alfred couldn't stop himself from whining. He ignored the glass in front of him, taking a swig straight from the bottle and letting the alcohol burn down his throat. His friend watched him in bemusement. "This has been the best night of my life in a long time. And if this is the last time we see each other, I don't think I'm going to forgive myself if I don't push you into giving me a hint."

This time, it was his friend's turn to take a drink: he filled his glass half-full and downed it all in one go. "You are certainly bold, señorito, I will give you that. A good friend of mine warned me about how loud and annoying Americans were, but it seems he neglected to tell me about how forward you all were as well."

Alfred resisted the urge to roll his eyes; of course, he would get deflected yet again. "Alright, I'll bite. Tell me more about your friend."

The teenager looked surprised. "You wish to know more about a man that insulted you?"

"If this is the closest I get to you telling me more about yourself, I'll take it," he shrugged. "Besides, I'd love to know how this friend of yours thinks. Americans are the greatest people in the world! He must be stupid if he doesn't know that."

The other boy laughed. "Of course you would say that, you biased brute. And I will have you know that my friend was quite smart, actually. One of the smartest men I have ever known."

Alfred felt like he wouldn't like the answer, but he asked anyway: "Was?"

All traces of laughter from his friend's face faded away into a hollow smile. "Killed by firing squad a few years ago."

Silently, Alfred poured gin into both of their glasses. They drank in solemn solidarity.

"My sincere condolences," said Alfred, and he meant it: he had lost too many friends himself over the centuries. "And I'm sorry I called him stupid."

His friend waved it off. "No worries. Pepe was incredibly intelligent, but he definitely had his fair share of stupid moments — you wouldn't believe how many times that man fell in love over the course of his short lifetime. Still, I miss him terribly and I wish he was still around. God only knows what he would have thought about everything happening at present."

"Oh, I know the feeling." Despite him dying decades prior, Alfred still longed for George Washington's steadfast guidance sometimes. He reached, a bit messily, for another drink. "It's uncanny, yeah? Some people just have this weird ability to analyze the present and predict the future. I certainly don't know how they do anything like it, really. I kind of just talk big and hope for the best."

"Funny that you talk about the future," the teenager chuckled. "Somehow, my friend even managed to predict that you would come here, Alfred. I did not believe him at the time, of course, but here you are."

"Here I am," Alfred repeated faintly. "Hold on, how did you know my—"

"Why were you all alone in my city, señorito?" His friend interrupted, looking up at him through his eyelashes. He leaned closer, close enough for the skin of their arms to touch, and Alfred suddenly forgot about all his worries. "I was very surprised to see you on your own, looking every bit like a lost little lamb. You are very lucky that I found you."

"Lucky indeed," he murmured, adjusting the collar of his shirt. It felt like the temperature in the room had risen by a dozen degrees. "Just wanted to explore, is all. MacArthur told me we had to stay low for a few more weeks, I got bored, and he let me out."

Those bright eyes were practically glittering as the teenager looked up at him, his fingers slowly tracing up his arm. "And you were alone? I always thought American soldiers traveled in pairs, but perhaps I was mistaken."

"No! No, you're right, you're definitely right," Alfred stammered out. He was sure his face was completely red by now. "I was with Private Wilkes earlier, but we, ah, got separated. He must be on the way back to Bulacan by now."

"How unfortunate," the other practically purred, clearly delighted. "Say, tell me, how did this Wilkes look like? Because I am sure that he does not look as handsome as you do."

That damned smile, now coy instead of kind and sweet, was tantalizingly close. If only he had the courage to lean down—

Alfred, trying desperately to distract himself, grabbed the bottle again and took a long swig.

There were about a million promises that threatened to spill from Alfred's lips, each one more outrageous than the other: Come with me. Stay with me. I'll keep you safe. I'll love you. Yet at the moment, he found himself tongue-tied. He didn't know if it was the alcohol or the atmosphere or the way the young boy across the table had so effortlessly allured him, but he felt like he was about to go insane. He barely registered the both of them standing up to leave, didn't question why they didn't need to pay at the restaurant, paid no heed to what his friend had whispered to the men standing guard by the door. His mind was in a muddy haze, and all he could focus on was the fact that his friend was holding his hand as he was led into the dark streets.

Dimly, Alfred thought that however striking he looked by the setting sun, he looked much more ethereal bathed in moonlight.

He must have said this aloud because the teenager laughed.

"You are a man of sweet words," he said, and there's that oddly bittersweet smile again. "And I wish we could have met in better circumstances."

"What's wrong with the way we met today? I had fun," Alfred argued. He swayed slightly on his feet, and his friend held on to him to keep him from falling. "Didn't you have fun?"

"You forget we are at war, señorito. And you forget that you are seeking to control me and my people, not find a lover." Despite the harsh words, the way his friend said this was soft and sad. Almost like he was somehow hurt. "It does not matter what we feel today if we are bound to fight each other tomorrow. Should you not know this by now?"

They walked together in silence, each supporting the other. Slowly, Alfred's alcohol-induced dizziness began to subside. It was replaced by a growing emptiness in his chest — and a heavy, heavy realization.

"You knew I was America this entire time." When his friend deigned to respond, he continued. "Then, why...?"

At this, the teenager laughed — broken and wistful and desperate, all at once. "I do not know myself. I was ready to attack you, but for some reason, the look in your eyes as you watched the sunset stopped me. I thought, if you could look at my country with such amazement, then you could see that this war is unnecessary. That if you could know my land and my people the way I knew them, full of vibrancy and color and light, then you could realize that they did not deserve to die.

"Yet as the night went on I began to realize my efforts were fruitless. It was not them you were looking at anymore, but me." Here, his friend faced him; Alfred barely catching a glimpse of his wet eyes before the teenager looked away. "Believe me, I would love to spend another night like this with you. But you have your responsibilities and so do I."

"Fruitless," Alfred repeated hollowly. The cold night wind was in stark contrast to the hot rage he felt bubbling inside him. He forcefully wrenched himself away from his friend, yelling: "You made me tell you classified information!"

In seconds, he watched the teenager's face go from shock to hurt to an angry glare.

"Do you not understand how badly I need to win this war? My people did not give their lives to free me from Spain just so you could swoop in and take over! So forgive me, señorito," his friend spat mockingly, "for trying to find whatever advantages my poor nation can get against such an imperialistic nation like you!"

"And do you not understand what we're trying to do here?" Alfred shouted. "We are fighting this war to save you! Don't you see that your country is a mess? That you're underdeveloped, uneducated, and unfit for self-rule? I was the hero who helped save your people from Spain, jackass, and—"

"—and you promised to give us independence, and yet all your countrymen seem to do is kill." The teenager finished, both his eyes and the hilt of his knife glinting golden under the moonlight. "Is that what freedom means to you, America? I beg to differ."

As Alfred stepped away from him in furious, furious betrayal, all he could think about was that the other boy looked so small.

"I thought of you as my friend," he said.

"And I thought of you as my liberator," the teenager said coolly. "I see we were both wrong."

A harsh whinny interrupted them both. Alfred turned to find Patton riding a chestnut brown horse, his face red from exhaustion but seemingly unharmed. The private stopped in front of him, dismounting without grace on the pavement. His face was red from exhaustion and his clothes looked considerably ruffled, but otherwise, he looked unharmed.

"It ain't my position to say this sire, but don't you dare ever try to run away from me like that again," Patton panted, giving a quick side-eye to the other teenager before dismissing him. "We best hurry now, because those two won't be happy about their stolen horse."

Just as he was about to ask who those two were, a pair of Filipinos with muskets turned the corner and ran towards them. He vaguely recognized them as the same two men who were standing guard at the restaurant. They shouted loudly, a mix of Tagalog and Spanish expletives that Alfred could barely recognize, and a phrase distinct enough that he felt like it was something significant: amang bayan.

Patton evidently recognized the words. He looked at him in a wide-eyed panic, saying, "Sire, we need to leave—"

And as quick as lightning, Patton fell to the ground with a sickening crack. Caught completely off-guard and his arms restrained, he was helpless against the teenager who had a knife at his throat: a knife that, as Alfred began to realize with a horrified lurch of his stomach, was engraved with golden flowers and the insignia of an eight-rayed sun.

"You must be Private Wilkes," the Philippines smiled. "I do hope you are enjoying my country."

"Get off him or else!" Alfred screamed, the combined events of the night making him feel like he was about to reach his breaking point. He reached for the pistol he kept hidden on his belt and took aim, hoping to God that the other nation wouldn't force him to shoot. Even after everything, he didn't feel like he had the nerve to hurt Philippines after the hours they spent together; maybe some other day, but not tonight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the two men had caught up to them. They angled their muskets at him from a distance. The horse, which Alfred had been planning to use for escape, had already taken off running in the commotion.

Patton stared up at him with fear in his eyes, a bleeding gash on his forehead, and Alfred's hands began to shake.

Above all else, Philippines was still smiling: eyes bright, amused twitch of the lips on his sharp face. Slowly, he stood to approach him.

Like a switch had been flicked, his features turned soft and kind again — more like the boy that Alfred had met earlier, the boy who had dragged him around the streets of Manila with lighthearted laughter, the boy whose smile was brighter than any star. All Alfred could do was stand there, mesmerized once again, as his hand was gently pried away from the gun.

"Alfred," Philippines said this quietly, almost like he was invoking a prayer. He motioned the men to stand down. "I do not wish to fight."

"I don't want to either," Alfred admitted. Maybe there was hope... "C'mon, we can talk this through, right? Look, we haven't had a battle in months. It should be really easy to negotiate, yeah? I'll set up a meeting with your generals and mine, we'll have a civil discussion with no weapons allowed, and we'll reach a compromise."

The other nation was leaning in, and this time, Alfred took his chance. He held Philippines' cheek in his hands and they kissed, soft and quick and chaste.

"Of course," Alfred said, as he pulled away. "I would need your complete surrender—"

He was swiftly kneed in the stomach, disarmed, and shot.

"Alfred, I do not wish to fight," Philippines said, as he watched Alfred collapse to the ground. "But I have to. I hope you understand."

He vaguely registered Patton reaching out to him as his eyes closed and the blood pooled around him, but all he could focus on was watching the other nation walk away into the darkness.

—

When Alfred came to, he was already back at camp. Without thinking, he immediately trudged to the general's war office.

"Good morning, Major-General MacArthur," he smiled, bright and cheery. "Gather the troops. I want to destroy Manila immediately."

—

Notes:

This is set in October 1899, during those months when there were no battles or skirmishes between the two armies. On the first day of November, the Americans launched a major attack on the Filipinos. This attack happened in San Fabian, Pangasinan, not in Manila, but let's forget about that.

Major-General MacArthur is, of course, Arthur MacArthur Jr., who was a major military figure during the Philippine-American War. I also claim artistic license in hinting that the American camp was in Bulacan because it probably wasn't.

Alfred's comments about Manila looking like Mexico are based on a comment by former president Manuel L. Quezon when he visited Mexico back in 1937: "Everything was the same." He meant that very, very affectionately.

Here's a nifty map of modern Manila. Alfred and Patton start out in Quiapo, which is basically the heart of downtown Manila. Alfred runs all the way to Muelle del Rey, which, coincidentally, happens to be the same place where the Jones Bridge stands today. Alfred and Phili take the tranvia to Binondo, Manila's business district and home to the world's oldest Chinatown.

The names of the store owners and vendors that Phili talks about are references to assorted media in Philippine pop culture. Pepito is a reference to Pepito Manaloto, a long-time comedy show about a man who won the lotto. Mang Tomas (Mang being an informal way to refer to a male adult older than you) is the name of a popular brand of gravy. Aling Nena (Aling being an informal way to refer to a female adult older than you) is a reference to the song Tindahan ni Aling Nena, about a boy who falls in love with a storeowner's daughter.

The garland of white jasmines that Phili puts around Alfred's neck are supposed to be sampaguitas, our national flower. They're usually sold near churches and are given as a sign of respect.

I have no idea if there are actually empanadas and valenciana sold somewhere in Binondo, but let's jot that down to artistic license. But these are very much Filipino foods that were adapted from Spanish foods, which is why Phili brings it up when Alfred asks about his family.

The old friend that Phili keeps talking about is Jose Rizal, our national hero. He is primarily known for being a great writer, whose novels inspired the Philippine War for Independence, and for being killed for it. He is also known for being having a long list of lovers, many of them not even Filipino. Lesser known is the fact that he visited America, hated it, went on a train ride with an American, and hated it. He wrote a whole diary entry about how much he didn't like America and Americans. He had also predicted that out of all the world powers, it would be America who would probably take an interest in conquering the Philippines when Spain was out of the picture. Go figure. Rizal was also affectionately known by his nickname, Pepe.

I imagine Phili to be particularly proficient in arnis, which is also known as kali or eskrima. It's a kind of Filipino martial art, most easily recognizable as that one martial art where everyone is dual-wielding a pair of sticks. The sticks are actually for training. Traditionally, arnis is fought by dual-wielding knives or swords, and it's meant to be quick and efficient in defending, attacking, disarming, and killing. Phili's fictional ornately designed knife is inspired by this very real ornately designed knife. The detail of the eight-rayed sun is a reference to the eight-rayed sun in the Philippine flag.

Lastly (phew!), some Tagalog to English translations!

Hijo, padaan naman po - Young boy, kindly let me pass Pasensya na po, lolo! Hindi kasi taga-rito - Sorry, grandfather*! He's not from around here. Lolo literally means grandfather but is a general way to refer to any elderly man regardless of any actual blood relation. Amang bayan - Fatherland

#hws #hws america #hws philippines #usph #amephil #hetalia philippines #hetalia america #aph philippines #aph america #historical hetalia #mine

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plus-size-reader · 3 years

Text

When the Cat's away

Damon Salvatore x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1274 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Damon constantly argues with his familiar, his conscious most of the time.

I just wanted to explore this concept really

——————————————————————————————————

Damon had never been the kind of guy who wanted, or needed, for the record, a familiar.

After the brief period in his life when he thought they were a myth, once he found out that anthropomorphic animals really did exist, he didn’t care.

It just never seemed like something he needed.

Who wanted to have to look after a pet, who also happened to be another human being? Not him, that was for sure.

...And that was still true.

However, you had come into his life and made it very clear that you had no intentions of ever leaving so Damon came to terms with it. Make no mistake, he’d tried to get rid of you.

He really had but no matter what, you just came waltzing back into his life without a care in the world.

It was easy for you, like you’d always belonged there and maybe it was because you had. As far as you were concerned, keeping the vampire out of trouble was your purpose.

Even if it wasn’t though, it certainly began to feel like it.

Every time you turned around, you had to bail the raven haired man out of whatever he’d gotten himself into. Lucky for him, all you had to do was give a smile, paired with that cat-like grin and he was free as a bird.

Maybe that was what warmed him up to you, or maybe it was something else entirely. Whatever it was, somewhere along the line, Damon began to appreciate your company.

Not that he would ever admit it.

For as many times as you saved his hide, and made him glad to have you around, you also drove him insane. It was always ‘killing people is bad Damon’ and ‘you got blood on the couch cushions Damon’. You just constantly had it out for him.

He couldn’t have any fun without you coming along to ruin it.

Which was why he was so glad to come back home to find that you were nowhere to be found.

Assuming that you’d gone out on the town with Stefan or found some mouse to chase down in the yard, he smiled to himself, plopping down on his favorite chair.

By all accounts, it didn’t matter where you’d went, as long as you weren’t here. It was just like that old saying went, because when the cat was away, he certainly did get to play.

Unfortunately for him though, Damon neglected to check his room before his little celebration, where you had been curled up in a little catnap.

He didn’t even get to the phone before you came strolling around the corner, your soft fur shining in the dim light of the living room lamps.

One sharp meow was all it took and Damon knew he was in trouble.

“Ugh. What do you want?” he sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically as he spoke. Of course it was too good to be true.

Immediately, Damon threw all plans of an all you can eat sorority girl buffet out the window, resting the phone back on the hook. You only let him get away with things like that on his birthday.

When he addressed you, your form shifted. Within seconds, you were standing beside him, your hair the same color as your fur had been and those piercing eyes just as they always had been.

You were beautiful, but right now, he didn’t care.

All he could think about was all the fun he could have been having if you hadn’t ruined it.

“Well hello to you too” you grinned, your sharp canines shining as you smiled at him, that sly look on your face. You knew perfectly well what you were doing.

You just didn’t care.

Damon couldn’t just run around killing whoever he wanted just because. It was risky and dangerous, not to mention morally wrong.

However, you’d learned a long time ago that no matter what you told him or how often he nearly got caught, Damon was never going to change.

He had been blessed with a general disconcert for other people along with immortality and a thirst for human blood. In all ways, he was perfect for murder.

...but you weren’t.

Having been born with the gift you had made you a wonderful companion and a great resource to have around but you were still sort of human.

You knew the difference between right and wrong.

“Did you have a good day today?” you hummed, ignoring the cross look on his face completely. You didn’t care if you’d ruined his silly plans.

If nothing else, you were just glad that he’d be here tonight so you could order in and just relax on the couch. Right now, you wanted his attention, and while it didn’t happen super often, it did happen on occasion.

“Not really. I wanted to come back and unwind but you’re here so that isn’t going to happen” he scoffed, still not willing to let that go quite yet, even if you had.

Frankly, you didn’t even really care from the beginning. You were too focused on what you wanted to allow him to pout.

“Come on, you’d miss me” you teased, gently booping the man in the nose as you passed, flopping down over the side of the couch dramatically.

You knew that he was going to join you in 3,2,1

As if on cue, Damon let out a heavy sigh, his heavy footsteps stalking toward you on the wood floor.

“You ordering pizza?” you called, your head peeking up over the back of the couch just enough to catch sight of him, already heading that way.

He didn’t even bother to turn back around to look at you, “I know what to do” he yelled back. For the two of you, this was pretty common and it was always the same.

A relationship like yours between a familiar and a vampire was uncommon in general. However, both you and Damon may have been closer than any other pair like you.

In your defense though, neither of you had ever really been the kind to make a ton of close friends. The bond you shared was beyond you both, and you had chosen just to roll with it. As strange as it was, there was no use questioning it.

By the time Damon got back, he’d ordered the pizza you were going to be munching on in a little less than an hour. This time, it was your turn not to even look in his direction, scrolling through the television channels.

Nothing seemed all that enticing, so you sighed heavily, and leaned into Damon’s reluctant side. He looked down at you, rolling his eyes before giving in completely to your expressed desire for his attention.

In general, you didn’t need much from him, keeping to yourself as you slunk around the darkened corners of the Salvatore house. If you wanted a little from him today, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

As much as he hated it, maybe it wasn’t the worst.

“I’m sorry I ruined your fun today” you hummed, though you both knew you weren’t. Damon may have felt like he needed to kill to survive but you knew better. There were alternative ways of life that didn’t require killing.

...Stefan did just fine without murder.

“Yeah right”

The only thing that was keeping him okay right now was knowing that one night wasn’t going to kill him. After all, you wouldn’t always be there and when you went out, he’d get to have as much fun as possible.

#damon salvatore #tvd #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x ps reader #damon salvatore x plus size reader #damon salvatore imagine #tvd x reader #tvd x ps reader #tvd x plus size reader #tvd imagine #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diaries x ps reader #the vampire diaries x plus size reader #the vampire diaries imagine

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killianmesmalls · 3 years

Note

On your comments about Jack: ye-es, in the sense that Jack is a character who definitely deserved better than he was treated by the characters. The way Dean especially treats him reflects very badly on Dean, no question. But, speaking as a viewer, I think the perspective needs to shift a little bit.

To me, Jack is Dawn from Buffy, or Scrappy Doo. He’s an (in my opinion) irritating kid who is introduced out of nowhere to be both super vulnerable and super OP, and the jeopardy is centered around him in a way that has nothing to do with his actual character or relationships. He’s mostly around to be cute and to solve or create problems — he never has any firm character arcs or goals of his own, nor any deeper purpose in the meta narrative. In this way, he’s a miss for SPN, which focuses heavily on conflicts as metaphors for real life.

Mary fits so much better in that framework, and introducing her as a developed, flawed person works really well with the narrative. It is easy for us to care about Mary, both as the dead perfect mother on the pedestal and as the flawed, human woman who could not live up to her sons’ expectations. That connection is built into the core of SPN, and was developed over years, even before she was a character. When she was added, she was given depth and nuance organically, and treated as a flawed, complex character rather than as a plot device or a contrivance. She was given a voice and independence, and became a powerful metaphor for developing new understandings of our parents in adulthood, as well as an interesting and well-rounded character. You care that she’s dead, not just because Sam and Dean are sad, but for the loss of her development and the potential she offered. So, in that sense, I think a lot of people were frustrated that she died essentially fridged for a second time, and especially in service of the arc of a weaker character.

And like, you’re right, no one can figure out if Jack is a toddler or a teenager. He’s both and he’s neither, because he’s never anything consistently and his character arc is always “whatever the plot needs it to be.” Every episode is different. Is he Dean’s sunny opportunity to be a parent and make up for his dad’s shitty parenting? Yes! Is he also Dean’s worst failure and a reminder that he has done many horrible things, including to “innocent” children? Yes! Is he Cas’s child? Yes! Is he Dean’s child? Yes! But also, no! Is he Sam’s child? Yes! Is he a lonely teenager who does terrible things? Yes! Is he a totally innocent little lamb who doesn’t get why what he is doing is wrong? Yes! Is he the most powerful being in the universe? Yes! Does he need everyone to take care of him? Yes! Is he just along for the ride? Yes! Is he responsible for his actions? Kinda??? Sometimes??? What is he???

Mary as a character is narratively cohesive and fleshed-out. Jack is a mishmash of confusing whatever’s that all add up to a frustrating plot device with no consistent traits to latch on to. Everything that fans like about him (cute outfits, gender play, well-developed parental bonds with the characters) is fanon. So, yes, the narrative prioritizes Mary. Many fans prioritize Mary, at least enough that Dean’s most heinous acts barely register. To the narrative (not to Cas, which is a totally different situation), Jack is only barely more of a character than Emma Winchester, who Sam killed without uproar seasons earlier. He’s been around longer, but he’s equally not really real.

I debated on responding to this because, to tell the truth, I think we fundamentally disagree on a number of subjects and, as they say, true insanity is arguing with anyone on the internet. However, you spent a lot of time on the above and I feel it's only fair to say my thoughts, even if I don't believe it will sway you any more than what you said changed my opinions.

I'm assuming this was in response to this post regarding how Jack's accidental killing of Mary was treated so severely by the brothers, particularly Dean, because it was Mary and, had it been a random character like the security guard in 13x06, it would have been treated far differently. However, then the argument becomes less about the reaction of the Winchester brothers to this incident and more the value of Jack or Mary to the audience.

I believe we need to first admit that both characters are inherently archetypes—Mary as the Madonna character initially then, later, as a metaphor for how imperfect and truly human our parents are compared to the idol we have as children, and Jack as the overpowered child who is a Jesus allegory by the end. Both have a function within the story to serve the Winchester brothers, through whose lens and with whose biases we are meant to view the show's events. We also need to admit that the writers didn't think more than a season ahead for either character, especially since it wasn't initially supposed to be Mary that came back at the end of season 11 but John, and they only wrote enough for Jack in season 13 to gauge whether or not the audience would want him to continue on or if he needed to be killed off by the end of the season. Now, I know we curate our own experiences online which leads to us being in our own fandom echo chambers, however it is important to note that the character was immediately successful enough with the general audience that, after his first episode or two, he was basically guaranteed a longer future on the show.

I have to admit, I’m not entirely sure why the perspective of how his character is processed by some audience members versus others has any bearing on the argument that he deserved to be treated better overall by the other characters especially when taking their own previous actions in mind. I’m not going to tell you that your opinion is wrong regarding your feelings for Jack. It’s your opinion and you’re entitled to it, it harms no one to have it and express it. My feelings on Jack are clearly very different from your own, but this is really just two different people who processed a fictional person in different ways. I personally believe he has a purpose in the Winchesters’ story, including Castiel’s, as he reflects certain aspects of all of them, gives them a way to explore their own histories through a different perspective, and changes the overall dynamic of Team Free Will from “soldiers in arms” to a family (Misha’s words). In the beginning he allows Sam to work through his past as the “freak” and powerful, dangerous boy wonder destined to bring hell on earth. With Dean, his presence lets Dean work through his issues with John and asks whether he will let history repeat itself or if he’ll work to break the cycle. Regarding Cas, in my opinion he helps the angel reach his “final form” of a father, member of a family, lover and protector of humanity, rebellious son, and the true show of free will.

From strictly the story, he has several arcs that work within themes explored in Supernatural, such as the argument of nature versus nurture, the question of what we’re willing to give up in order to protect something or someone else and how ends justify the means, and the struggle between feeling helpless and powerless versus the corruptive nature of having too much power and the dangerous lack of a moral compass. His goals are mentioned and on display throughout his stint on the show, ones that are truly relatable to some viewers: the strong desire to belong—the need for family and what you’ll do to find and keep it.

With Mary, we first need to establish whether the two versions of her were a writing flaw due to the constant change in who was dictating her story and her relationship to the boys, which goes against the idea that her characterization was cohesive and fleshed-out but, rather, put together when needed for convenience, or if they both exist because, as stated above, we are seeing the show primarily through the biased lens of the Winchester brothers and come to face facts about the true Mary as they do. Like I said in my previous post, I don’t dislike Mary and I don’t blame her for her death (either one). However, I do have a hard time seeing her as a more nuanced, fleshed-out character than Jack. True, a lot of her problems are more adult in nature considering she has to struggle with losing her sons’ formative years and meeting them as whole adults she knows almost nothing about, all because of a choice she made before they were born.

However, her personal struggles being more “mature” in nature (as they center primarily on parental battles) doesn’t necessarily mean her story has layers and Jack’s does not. They are entirely different but sometimes interconnected in a way that adds to both of their arcs, like Mary taking Jack on as an adoptive son which gives her the moments of parenting she lost with Sam and Dean, and Jack having Mary as a parental figure who understands and supports him gives him that sense of belonging he had just been struggling with to the point of running away while he is also given the chance to show “even monsters can do good”.

I’d also argue that Jack being many ages at once isn’t poor writing so much as a metaphor for how, even if you’re forced to grow up fast, that doesn’t mean you’re a fully equipped adult. I don’t want to speak for anyone else, but I believe Jack simultaneously taking a lot of responsibility and constantly trying to prove to others he’s useful while having childish moments is relatable to some who were forced to play an adult role at a young age. He proves a number of times that he doesn’t need everyone to take care of him, but he also has limited life experience and, as such, will make some mistakes while he’s also being a valuable member of the group. Jack constantly exists on a fine line in multiple respects. Some may see that as a writing flaw but it is who the character was conceived to be: the balance between nature or nurture, between good and evil, between savior and devil.

Now, I was also frustrated Mary was “fridged” for a second time. It really provided no other purpose than to give the brothers more man pain to further the plot along. However, this can exist while also acknowledging that the way it happened and the subsequent fallout for Jack was also unnecessary and a sign of blatant hypocrisy from Dean, primarily, and Sam.

And, yes, Jack can be different things at once because, I mean, can’t we all? If Mary can be both the perfect mother and the flawed, independent, distant parent, can’t Jack be the sweet kid who helps his father-figures process their own feelings on fatherhood while also being a lost young-adult forcing them to face their failures? Both characters contain multitudes because, I mean, we all do.

I can provide articles or posts on Jack’s characterization and popularity along with Mary’s if needed, but for now I think this is a long enough ramble on my thoughts and feelings. I’m happy to discuss more, my messenger is always open for (polite) discussion. Until then, I’m going to leave it at we maybe agree to disagree.

#long post #long ask #so long answer #guys it's 1 am #i hope this made sense #watch me read this after sleep and register things i wish i said #oh well #jack kline #mary winchester #spn #supernatural #spn critical #supernatural critical #kinda?#eh just in case #spn meta #supernatural meta #jack meta

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sluttyminghao · 3 years

Note

I see your followers liked that little thought I had about Joshua, so I brought another one😏

Imagine that Jeonghan is your best friend. You two are chilling at your place and as you scroll down your social media, you watch an ad about some online classes to please your partner. You chuckle and that makes him look at you.

"What are you laughing at?"

You quickly show him the ad, knowing that kind of topics are no biggie for him.

"Imagine paying for someone to teach you how to suck dick." You joke, and he just quirks a brow at you.

"Sounds like you're an expert." He retorts, and your smirk instantly vanishes. Looking away, you try to play it cool and go back to scrolling on your phone. "Thought so." He adds, laughing.

You frown, not liking it when he makes fun of you. Truthfully, you were in no position to make such a statement, but that wasn't the point to begin with.

"Shut up." You spit, crossing your arms over your chest. "We weren't talking about me."

Jeonghan switches his position on your couch, looking at you with his arm spreading over the headrest.

"You were making fun of people for wanting to learn, when you don't even know how to suck dick, now do you?"

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment, looking down to your lap.

"No." You say almost in a whisper. "But that doesn't mean I'd pay for that."

Jeonghan lets out a breathy chuckle, thinking you look more than adorable when you get flustered.

"Well, not everyone has a free way of learning, like you."

You frown, tilting your head in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

Jeonghan leans a bit closer, tongue running over your lips and making you freeze on the spot.

"You have me." He says, a daring smirk on his face. "If you want to learn and have a reason to brag, I'm more than glad to help."

Your face burns and turns red, heart suddenly racing and pulse accelerating. You start to feel a pulsating sensation between your legs at his bold offer.

"A-Are you suggesting that I-" You stutter, he brings his hand up and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'm offering to teach you how to suck my dick. Who better than your best friend to do so?" He smirks flirtatiously, making you break a sweat. "Do you want to do it?"

It's a kind of offer you would normally refuse in a blink of an eye, especially because you've never imagined doing such a thing with Jeonghan. However, the confidence in his voice along with the lust-filled eyes and gentle touch is enough to turn you on. Your morals get cloudy and so does your shyness. You quickly find yourself nodding, and of course, he loves it.

He stands up from the couch and stretches out his hand for you to take and help you up, which you accept. He caresses your head and smiles.

"Get on your knees."

As soon as you obey his command, he starts fumbling with his belt, unbuckling it and unzipping his pants to reveal his boxers. You place your hand on his clothed, semi-hard cock and start palming him gently, earning soft moans erupting from his mouth that make you incredibly wet.

"Oh no... Seems like you're not hard enough." You say, batting your lashes in an innocent tone before pouting. You did it on purpose and he was well aware, but it didn't stop him from wanting to take you right then and there.

"Fuck. You look so innocent, come here." He snaps, tangling his fingers on your hair and pulling you up to your feet before he crashes his lips with yours in a hot kiss.

It's the first time you two ever cross the boundaries of what being a best friend means, but none of you seems to care as the sudden crave for each other invade your senses. His tongue rolls over yours, hand still tugging on your head and tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Your head start spinning, his kissing skills making you fly to a cloud nine state. You two make out for a couple of minutes, Jeonghan constantly nibbling and sucking on your lower lip and your tongue, the moans that slip from your lips turning him on to no end before he finally breaks the kiss, panting as he pushes you down on your knees again.

He pulls his boxers down and his now hard-rock dick springs free, hitting his lower abdomen with a heavy red tip and leaking pre-cum. Your mouth instantly watering at the sight of him owning such a pretty cock. Your hand wraps around his shaft and you start pumping him gently. He bites his lip before he grabs your face and makes you look up at him.

"Time to put those pretty lips to work, love. You will now start playing with your tongue, lick all over it, around it, pretend you're eating your favorite ice cream."

You nod, leaning forward and shyly placing kitten licks on his tip, tasting the salty fluid that proves how turned on he is. He keeps his gaze glued to you and gestures for you to keep going, combing your hair with his fingers.

You start to loose yourself and think about his words. Pretending it's an ice cream cone, you start swirling your tongue around the head, placing gently sucks and then licking from the head down to the base. Jeonghan can't help but moan in satisfaction. Your hands are placed on his thighs and you can't feel them tense the more you experiment.

"Just like that..." He trails off. "Such a naughty tongue." He bites his lip, and it's the most erotic scene you've ever seen. "Now get it into your mouth, careful with your teeth." He continues. "Play with your tongue, hollow your cheeks and bob your head a little, don't follow a specific order, whatever makes you feel comfortable, yeah? Let me explore every inch of your warm mouth."

Following his instructions, you slide his dick in your mouth. Starting to experiment and alternate between hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head, you keep swirling your tongue around him. He presses his eyes shut, throwing his head back.

"F-Fuck." He moans. "I didn't think you'd be this good."

Enjoying his compliment, you get confident enough to push him as far as possible to the back of your throat, spit running down your chin and hands stroking the parts of him you're not able to take.

Jeonghan starts to lose himself, hips thrusting into your mouth automatically. You feel him twitch as he grabs a handful of your hair and starts to fuck your throat. You try your best to take it, but soon you have tears running down your mouth as the gag reflex kicks in. He opens his eyes wide when you let out a whimper, pulling back and looking remorseful.

"Shit. I'm sorry y/n. I got carried away with the feeling, are you okay?" He asks, leaning down a bit to cup your face. You nod.

"I'm okay, don't worry." You assure, not giving him time to say something else as you pushed him into your mouth again. You hollow your cheeks again and increase your pace as you bob your head, deciding it'd be a good idea to just move your hand further down and massage his balls. Jeonghan lets out the loudest moan so far, and you can feel your underwear sticking to your pussy like a second skin, dripping wet by the sounds he makes and the way he's so fucked out.

He starts to get louder, hands placed on the back of your neck that you feel start shaking, with a trail of curses he finally shoots his seed down your throat. You keep sucking him dry out of his high before you pull back, swallowing his cum.

He's panting, trying to catch his breath and looking down at you with parted lips and hooded eyes. You wipe the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand and smile innocently, standing up.

"So? Do you think I can brag now?"

Jeonghan hisses, pulling you by the nape of your neck and kissing you roughly, tasting himself on your tongue. You tangle your fingers in his red locks and moan against his mouth, skin burning under your clothes. When he breaks the kiss, his gaze pierces your soul.

He pulls his underwear and pants back on, running his fingers through his hair as he smirks.

"Brag? With that mouth of yours you're the one who can offer paid classes." He smirks, wrapping his arm around your waist and making you walk backwards. "Now, what do you say if I teach you some other things? I might as well, show you how well I can return the favor."

Needless to say... Your friendship wasn't the same since that day.

are u trying to KILL all of us I swear-

#multistan-net #frens <3 #replies

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choicesenthusiast · 3 years

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Laws of Attraction, Ch. 11 AKA Dead Girl, Dead End

What happened this week:

With all leads pointing nowhere promising, Sadie wants us to pivot our strategy and flip the narrative on the dead girl being a “cheater” even though it may potentially hurt us in the long-run. Forget morals or ethics or anything, this plan is just stupid overall. Exposing Aliana would just make it look like Marcus had even more motive to murder her. Everyone is against it save for Martin, who proves himself far too eager to dig up some leaked nudes or whatever.

Take a ride with Gabe and find out why he refuses to let emotions cloud his professional decisions, then proceed to let his emotions cloud his professional decision by kissing him. I’m really digging how most of the intimate moments happen in the confined space of his car. That being said, it’s also PB, so what is sexual tension to them if not “eyes darkening” and “sparks” (it returns!) and “pregnant pauses”?

Some conversations with Marcus’ secret lover, the medical examiner, and Aliana’s house staff point you to exactly nowhere, except for one little detail that may either be PB’s inconsistencies, or something they wanted us to notice. I don’t know much about guns, but the cause of death was a “gunshot wound from a .22 caliber handgun,” to quote Gabe from Chapter 9. However, Sothy the medical examiner says that the bullet was a .40 S&W, widely used by police. Something to note for the future, methinks.

Team up with Aislinn to weed out a pretty important piece of information from the head security guard, who deleted all the tapes the night of her murder “out of respect for Aliana.” Good thing there’s a backup on the cloud. The wonders of modern technology. Well, at least you have your newest suspect.

Thoughts:

Ooh, I love the juxtaposition of the major beats of Gabe’s route being all in the car vs Aislinn’s route being in public places (the cafe, the flower shop, the deli, etc). I feel like there’s a lot that can be explored here…

Inch resting how the defense for one of the most prestigious law firms in NY not having a PI on hand is because we’re strapped for time. I don’t know about you but I think a PI would make this go along much smoother.

Right as I was beginning to tolerate Martin’s presence and appreciate the balance he brings to the group, he’s gone back to being a dick again. Oh, well. Guess it’s just me and my besties Aislinn, Gigi, and Beau now.

#this week on choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #laws of attraction

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robinalaptop · 3 years

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Moments Fit Together Like A Glove | Frankie Morales x Reader

Fandom: Pedro Pascal - Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader ( written with a female reader in mind, but no mentions of the readers gender are made so I guess it could be for anyone )

Summary: You and Frankie take your dog, Churro, out to the park for her third birthday.

Warnings: None. Just a lot of fluff.

Word count: 1335

A/N: Hi! This is my first fic that I’ve written in a while. It’s also my first reader insert fic, first Frankie fic, and the first time I’ve written something of a substantial length in second person. Basically there’s a lot of firsts in this so please be friendly :D. I am considering making this into a series of drabbles with Frankie, Reader and the dog, so please leave some feedback if you’d like to see more. Also feel free to send asks with ideas/suggestions for other ideas :)

(Title from the song Good Day by Surfaces)

You’re humming to yourself as you bustle around the kitchen. You’ve already tied an apron on, and you’re mixing up ingredients for some dog-friendly cupcakes. It’s Churro’s third birthday, and you and Frankie are taking her to the park.

Churro, who sits under the table in the kitchen, is a large, fluffy german shepherd, lovingly named after the second food item you and Frankie bought on your first date. You went with the second food item because Frankie refused to name the dog Chicken.

Frankie walks into the kitchen as you’re taking the cupcake trays out of the cupboard, and he helps put the liners into the tray.

“What are you making?” He asks, swiping his finger along the side of the bowl and tasting the batter. He hums in approval. “It’s good, whatever it is.”

“Thanks,” you say with a grin. “They’re dog cupcakes.”

Frankie freezes and looks up at you with his mouth agape. “You mean I just ate dog food? And said it was good?” He asks, reaching for a glass of water.

“Well, they’re dog-friendly cupcakes. We can eat them too, but I made sure the ingredients are safe for dogs as well.” Frankie seems relieved as you show him the cover of a cookbook that reads Tasty Treats for Happy Dogs.

“Churro will be a happy dog if you feed her anything,” Frankie says with a laugh. Churro, hearing her name, lifts her head from where she is lying under the table.

“True, but she’ll be even happier when she eats these dog-friendly cupcakes!” You say, as you finish spooning the mixture into the tray and slide it into the oven.

* * * * * * * *

The cupcakes are iced, packed up and placed in the picnic basket, along with some sandwiches, water bottles and a thermos of orange juice. Frankie packs the camera into a bag, as well as plastic bags, a ball, a picnic blanket, a few party hats, and anything else you might need for your day in the park.

You put Churro’s harness on and get her into the car, followed by the picnic basket (far away from Churro), and the backpack. You hop in the passenger seat. Frankie drives.

* * * * * * * *

You spread out the blanket. Frankie immediately sets the basket down at the corner and lies across the middle of the blanket. He pulls his cap down over his eyes and tucks his hands behind his head. You smile at him and sit down, opening the basket and grabbing a sandwich.

Churro sees you taking food out and leaves the garden bed she was exploring. She trots over and steps squarely on Frankie’s stomach before sitting in front of you.

Frankie groans in surprise and props himself up on his elbows. He adjusts his cap and squints at Churro, feigning anger. You take a piece of ham out of your sandwich and give it to her as a reward. You’re scratching between her ears by the time Frankie sits up to hit you playfully on the arm.

“You can’t reward that kind of behaviour!” He says indignantly, but he’s smiling around the eyes and you know he’s not being serious.

Frankie opens a bottle of water and takes a sip, before lying back down on the blanket. You take a piece of ham out of your sandwich for Churro and hold it over Frankies stomach

Churro steps on Frankie again, and he lunges at you, wrapping his arms around your middle and pushing you playfully to the ground.

Churro gets distracted by the half-eaten sandwich that has fallen from your hand.

You get distracted by the kisses that Frankie is peppering all over your face and neck.

* * * * * * * *

Churro doesn’t seem particularly bothered by the party hat that Frankie has placed on her head, which surprises both of you.

Frankie dangles a treat over the camera as he tries to take a photo of you and Churro wearing party hats. The dog, however, is suddenly interested in everything else but the food; she turns her head around to look at people wandering past and stands up to sniff the grass around the mat.

“Churro!” You call, trying to get her attention. “Come here.” You say, tapping the blanket next to you. She comes and sits next to you.

“Oooh, quick, take it now!” You say as Churro finally looks at the camera. Frankie rapidly presses the button and snaps a few pictures before her attention is on some birds that have landed behind him.

You move closer to him as he lowers the camera from his eye to check the photos.

“Hey, these are pretty good!” Frankie says, tilting the camera for you to get a better look. They’re a little blurry, but they’re far better than any other ones you’ve gotten. “You happy with those, babe?”

“Yep.” You smile and give him a quick kiss on the cheek before taking the camera. “Now you go sit with her.”

Frankie gets up and calls Churro back to the blanket and when she comes he sits cross-legged next to her. You hold the camera with one hand and dangling treats above the lens with the other, and take some photos.

“Hang on,” Frankie says and takes the party hat off Churro. He puts his cap on the dog’s head and places the party hat on his own. “Now go.”

Churro seems very interested in Frankies hat, looking up as if she’ll be able to see it before it falls off. Frankie fixes her hat, and you snap a quick picture of them both looking at the camera before she turns and starts licking Frankies face. He laughs and tries to shove her away, and you snap a few quick pictures before he takes his hat back and Churro runs off again.

The photos with Frankie turn out good, and they’re all clear, except for one where they’ve swapped hats. This photo is a little blurry in places and neither are looking at the camera. Churro is too busy trying to lick Frankie’s face. Frankie is too busy laughing.

This photo is your favourite.

* * * * * * * *

You and Frankie take turns throwing the ball, and Churro chases it and runs back to where you’re waiting every time. She drops it in front of you and sits, ready for the pets she knows are coming.

You pick the ball up and throw it again, and this time Frankie chases after it as well. Churro is delighted by the new competition. Her ears flatten against her head as she outruns Frankie easily.

Churro starts to run back to you, and Frankie steps between her path and crouches down with his arms outstretched. She knows what this means, and she runs to Frankie and drops the ball. She sits and her tail thumps against the grass with excitement as she waits for a scratch.

But Frankie grabs the ball and takes off towards you. Churro jumps up and immediately begins chasing him. Frankie is shouting and waving the ball above his head as he runs back to you.

“I win.” He says breathlessly, dropping the ball.

And then he tackles you to the ground, and you’re laughing as he rips up handfuls of grass and sprinkles it in your hair with a grin. You roll around for a little, trying to get out of his grip. You don’t really care when you don’t succeed.

Churro notices the two of you on the ground and immediately bounds over, tail wagging as she tries to squeeze her way between you and Frankie. She gets a few good licks on Frankie before he rolls onto his back and moves one arm to push the dog out of his face. You reach out to scratch behind Churro’s ear and she sits squarely on Frankie’s stomach. Now he’s laughing just as much as you.

And the laughter makes your stomach hurt, but the sun warms your skin and he warms your heart, and you are warm.

And life is good.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #reader insert #my fic #triple frontier #fluff

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nat-the-cat-123 · 3 years

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(this will be a VERY long post)

✨Time to criticize Yashahime ✨

First of all:

I will only criticize the writing aspects, so don't expect me to say anything about the animation since I barely know about that stuff

Because of this I also won't address anything of Sessrin or the discontent because of Moroha's and Inukag's separation because that's more of a fandom thing

And this is only the opinion of someone who isn't any kind of expert in writing or something like that

Uff, Yashahime finally ended and it was... Interesting.

So let's criticize it :)

So first of all let's tell the ✨the good things✨ because even if there are more bad things, infact there are very little good things, we have to give credit where credit is due.

Good things :D

The girls' originality

Something that I saw other fandoms have complained in their own "next generation sequel" (like in boruto) is that the kids were just a "copy paste" of their parents, and when Yashahime was just announced I saw the same concerns (specially with Setsuna and Moroha)

But in the end I think any of them ended up being just female Inuyasha/Sesshomaru, and all were able to be their very own character.

Half of their relationship

Ok, I'm specifying that only half because sometimes the twins would be a little unfair with Moroha, but then be her "new family"(?), But then they proceed to leave her behind, and then AGAIN being like bff's so there is no consistency.

But in the first episodes Sunrise got it right and we could see a pretty good and functional dynamic between the 3 that was consistent and made sense.

Each one had a defined role that worked, Towa was the "moral" one, Setsuna the "cold" one who took more drastic decisions, and Moroha intervenes mediating both and brings information that may help please both sides. (At the beginning)

Moroha

I'M SORRY, I'm sorry, I can't help it, it's just that she has so much charm and is so lovely and innocent. And you can totally ignore the fact that she's InuKag's daughter and still love her just because her personality brings so much to the story.

It's such a shame that they didn't really use all her potential but I'll get to that later.

Aaaand that's all ;-;

Now let's go to the interesting part...

The bad things D:<

Towa

This point I actually want to explore it further in another post, because there's a lot I want to talk about her to specify what exactly went wrong and how I would have managed her but here I will leave it simple.

Towa in any way possible wasn't properly used, and even if almost every character suffered of bad writing, she was the most affected one.

She honestly isn't interesting, everything that could have been done with her according to her backstory was completely wasted, because even if she was the one with the least tragic story, there was a lot to work with (I mean, just look at Kagome's case and still most of the fandom loved her)

She kept changing her personality and ideology according to what the story needed, and at some point her only trait was "Setsuna's protective older sister"

And don't even get me started with how overpowered she is without any kind of training (I get she knows how to fight with bullies, but clearly that isn't the same as fighting demons with demonic energy)

Phasing

When people argue if the phasing is too fast or too slow, I think it's both, but in the worst way possible.

They waste so much time in scenes that aren't really that necessary or could be much shorter, and rush at incredible speed things that should actually be worked slowly and carefully.

The fights

I only can remember two or three that I actually liked because most of them were just exchanging hits with the sword, sometimes an special movement and that's all.

Half of the battles didn't affect the story in the least, and the worst of all was how the villains were defeated wether because they were lame as fuck or because Towa's random power up appeared out of nowhere.

Meanwhile in Inuyasha even if we didn't always had the best fights of all anime, we did get some pretty interesting choreographies and some villains really had an impact on the characters in a natural way.

Talking about villains...

Naraku is laughing from his grave

You know? I'm not a Naraku fan, but he was a bastard that you loved to hate, he maybe wasn't the most powerful character when we talk purely about his strength, but he was intelligent as fuck, he was always one step ahead, he had some pretty interesting abilities and plans, with him he brought other AMAZING villains (or anti heroes) like Kagura, Kanna, Hakudoshi, the weird baby, or even Sesshomaru back at the beginning, and the best part was how he was written being a complex character (like when he struggled with his human feelings for Kikyo)

But on the other hand we have Kirinmaru, Zero, the four losers (I mean, perils), probably my boy Riku, and who knows what other random villains.

First of all, ONLY RIKU would be a good villain (maybe I should have put him in the good things ;-;)

But then we have the four perils who, out of them the only one who seemed to know what he was doing was the green guy that did weird witchcraft, but the rest? They are just randomly bothering people because they have nothing else to do and honestly they didn't seem to be that powerful.

I'm not sure about Kirinmaru because I don't see anything clear with him, I mean, I'm not even sure if he's a villain.

And Zero... *Sighs*

I don't get what the hell she's trying to do. Anything that she does makes sense. She's just alive because of Riku, without him she can't do anything.

Like seriously, half of the world was after Naraku's ass, even his allies, and still he could get away with it. Zero can't even get her army in order to take care of 3 fourteen years old girls.

(Sorry for letting myself go with this one ;-;)

Not using half of your characters

I guess the best example is Moroha because even with an interesting backstory, mysterious abilities, and most of the fandom's love, they just used her as comedic relief for most of the series instead of developing her character or explaining better her spiritual abilities or Beniyasha.

And not only her, Hisui and the rest of the demon slayers were more of a background character. For example, in Hisui's episode we should have gotten to meet him, Gyokuto, and Kin'u better, but they preferred to focus in the twins AGAIN and not work the MirSan family. (Guys, first season and I still can't tell Hisui's definitive personality)

Same Takechiyo, Kyubi, Yawaragi, Kohaku, the villains, some past characters, sometimes even Riku. Basically every character who isn't Towa and Setsuna are walking tools for them to use whenever the plot needs it.

And no, I'm not saying "The twins shouldn't be the protagonists", a I'm saying "SIDE CHARACTERS AREN'T JUST PLOT DEVICES, THEY ALSO DESERVE DEFINED PERSONALITIES AND CHARACTER ARCS TO MAKE THE WORLD RICHER, OTHERWISE IT FEELS LIKE THE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND THE PROTAGONISTS"

Inuyasha knew when and how to dedicate an episode to a character, Yashahime doesn't.

Lack of character development

No one, except for Setsuna who is learning to rely and trust more on the girls, has any kind of development (sorry Moroha (･ัω･ั)).

I see Towa exactly the same as in the first episode, and because of how they've barely put attention to Moroha, she has barely shown any growth as well.

And I guess Hisui learnt how to trust his dad, but again, I can barely tell which is his personality, and the rest are background characters.

Powers / Abilities / Weapons

Here they neither explained ANY of the characters abilities properly or made them more powerful making sense.

Towa, just randomly learnt how to concentrate her demon energy in a sword and just keeps getting new abilities without training, and any of them seem to have any effect on Towa like (idk) having the risk of running out of energy. And at the beginning I liked how she struggled with her other demon abilities like smelling things but then they just forgot ;-;.

Setsuna's stick just produces wind and lasers without explanation, and her sealed power doesn't really work naturally.

And Moroha... EXPLAIN BENIYASHA BETTER. SAME FOR THE SPIRITUAL POWERS, that was supposed to be impossible!!! And again they recognized that at the very beginning, why did they forgot about it later???

There barely has been any "world" expansion

Something that Inuyasha never really got into was the "demon society", because with the exception of some tribes they never mentioned anything related to that BUT...

With that thing of Inu no Taisho and Kirinmaru apparently being "royalty" I thought they would talk more about that "Demon hierarchy" or if "Setsuna's courage trial" was something like a demon tradition (damn, that was honestly pretty interesting) but NO.

The topic has been barely mentioned and let's keep saying over and over again what the audience already knows for 24 episodes.

Weird Exposition

The way they threw information at us was pretty weird, like it didn't feel "organic" because instead of the girls getting into whatever situation where "x" character tells them certain things because it is related to what is happening, again, they chose pretty weird ways.

There were like 1,000 different options to tell us what happened to InuKag and Sesshomaru and all of them, like the girls talking with Myoga or Kaede...

BUT THEY CHOSE TO BREAK THE FOURTH WALL.

Comedy

I'm not saying Moroha is a bad comedy relief, she actually came with many good jokes, but you can't leave only ONE character to take care of the comedy. Towa and Setsuna also came with some good funny moments, so why would they only reduce the comedy to Moroha????

(In Inuyasha EVERYONE gave amazing comedy moments, even Sesshomaru)

And the worst part is that they only use the same joke with her most of the time! Losing her bounty and being poor.

"Atmosphere" (?)

I Promise I don't want to sound pretentious with this one ;-;

Those scenes where we were supposed to feel sad because of someone's death, intimidated because Kirinmaru appeared or excited because of a fight didn't work out.

I don't know exactly why but I think that it is because of a combination of lazy animation, bad selection of soundtrack, weird dialogue and the characters' lack of reaction.

So now that I think I've said all the points that they got wrong, let's get to the conclusion.

They stablished side plots or mysteries everywhere and didn't really do anything with them.

The girls never advanced with the story, they just kept running in circles around the same point during 24 episodes. (And no matter how long or short a story is, you can NEVER do that or you'll lose the audience's attention).

And with or without a second season, they made terrible mistakes that won't be able to be fixed. If it is only one season, TERRIBLE, they left way to much things uncovered, and if they plan another season, ALSO TERRIBLE, they rushed essential things and if they work them again they'll repeat one of their biggest mistakes.

And honestly I really tried to love this sequel, almost up to episode 12 I really tried to appreciate the small good things but they just kept slapping me with disappointment every single episode, and if they release a second season, I'll watch it but this time only expecting the worst of it.

In resume, yo can only truly enjoy Yashahime if you completely turn off your critical sense, and expecting nothing from it, otherwise you'll only keep asking yourself "why?"

#inuyasha #hanyou no yashahime #moroha #hanyo no yashahime #setsuna #towa #hanyou no yashahime spoilers #sesshomaru #kagome #kirinmaru #zero #the four perils #this is a mess

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taeminstetrislips · 3 years

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School Trip Series-Italy Pt. 1

Johnny, Jaehyun, Xiaojun, Sungchan, and Renjun x (fem)reader

Rome

You finally arrive at the Rome Ciampino Airport. The first official steps you take on Italian soil... or... concrete. Your group from school gathers together for a quick head count and then to the travel bus to pack your luggage. After gathering on the bus, you almost choose to sit next to a random girl you had become acquainted with earlier. This trip was put together by one of your college professors who offered to take the students from his European Art History classes. However, only a few from your specific class time chose to come and most of the people were from other class periods. Before you commit to a seat partner, you hear your name being called from the back of the bus. You look up to see that the voice belongs to Johnny. He’s so loud this early in the morning, probably because he’s already on his second coffee, but you’re grateful for the invitation and choose to sit next to him. He was sort of the class clown and you’re flattered that he remembers you. His group of friends had some familiar faces in it as well. Xiaojun was the one that always got picked on before class started and constantly asked the professor questions during the tests; Sungchan was quiet but you recognized his face and only remembered his name because of attendance every morning; and Renjun was one of the visual arts majors that always offered a really interesting perspective on the composition of paintings.

“Thanks for sitting with me, these losers all ditched me for each other. I was worried I would have to sit with that girl from class who doesn’t shower,” Johnny says, causing the memory to resurface of the girl when you sat next to her the first day. You even had to change the unofficial-official seating chart the next class period to avoid her. That definitely wouldn’t be an issue here because these guys smelled surprisingly good. You couldn’t pin down whose cologne it was that was so nice.

“Is she on this trip?” you ask.

“I thought so. Maybe it wasn’t her,” he responds. You stand up to look around for her quickly but can’t see much beyond the other students loading the bus. Your eyes land on the person sitting next to Xiaojun and realize you don’t recognize him.

“Hi, I don’t know you yet. My name is Y/n.” You hold out your hand to shake his and take in the way his dimples deepen as he smiles and introduces himself back to you.

“Jaehyun,” he says. You sink back down into your seat after releasing his hand.

Johnny explains that all five of them were supposed to take the class together but Jaehyun’s schedule got changed somehow and he had to take it at a different time.

Xiaojun hugs Jaehyun from behind and says, “We missed him but it’s okay because we convinced him to come on the trip with us.”

“He even worked part-time with me at the front desk of the University Center to save up some money,” Sungchan chimes in.

As the bus lurches forward to start your journey, you start up a conversation by asking everyone what they major in and what year in college they were in. Your discussion is interrupted by your professor standing and announcing that he has a story.

“Now don’t be too worried but I may be a wanted criminal at our first location,” he begins. Multiple students interject with sounds of humor and surprise. You aren’t too shocked as he has often told your class stories of his rebellious past. It’s always the 400 level professors. “This happened a long time ago so don’t judge me too harshly. But, when I traveled to Rome the first time, I actually stole a small chunk of it.” A few students gasp. “Yes this is illegal. Please don’t do what I did, dear God. But I did get away with it.”

Some random person asks, “Why though?”

“Well you see there was this girl I was flirting with and long story short, I did it to impress her.” You can tell he’s a little embarrassed and most of the students are laughing at him. He says that the moral of the story is that airport security is better now than it was back in the 80s and you’ll probably be caught and arrested if you try to do it.

The trip doesn’t take too long and before you know it, you’re stepping out into beautiful Rome. You have a bit of a walk before you make it to the first stop: The Colosseum. Johnny stops abruptly and looks at the huge structure as if sizing it up.

“I think I could fit that in my luggage,” he says nonchalantly.

Sungchan pipes up, “What girl are you trying to impress Johnny? Y/n?”

“Yes,” Johnny looks at you, “Is it working?” You just respond by shaking your head no. He pretends to be upset by imitating a mad toddler and stomping his foot and pouting. The rest of the group just walks on without him. You can’t deny the architectural beauty of this ancient amphitheater. Smallish groups begin to form as you all start walking and exploring. The few of you choose to break off and head down to explore the tunnels underneath the exposed floor. Surprisingly there weren’t many visitors down there at that time besides you six. After a brief moment of walking and admiring it, Johnny abruptly pushes Renjun on the arm screaming, “You’re it!” before taking off into the distance for an abrupt game of tag. The others take off in different directions, turning behind corners and hiding wherever possible. Renjun complains first about not wanting to play but runs away anyway as soon as he catches a glimpse of Sungchan’s arm. You decide to hang back, letting them be unsure of whether or not you were joining the game. Soon you duck behind a wall and your heart starts pumping with the adrenaline of potentially being caught. Trying not to run too fast and be respectful. However, you end up stopping once Sungchan appears around the corner and chases after you. He grabs your shoulder and turns around to take off before you can tag him back. You take off after him anyway, still looking in each corridor for the other players. He manages to dip out of sight, but you spot Johnny peek his head out of one of the archways ahead. When he turns his head to look in your direction, you’re already running toward him, causing him to turn around another wall. Once you reach the passage that you thought he turned down you slow down to turn into it, only to be met with Jaehyun jumping out and scaring you. Your hands stretch out as if to block him. He must be unaware that you’re “it” because he grabs your wrists and pulls you deeper into his hiding spot, apologizing for scaring you and laughing simultaneously. His voice is pretty low when he laughs and you realize- oh my god- he has a dad laugh. It’s kind of wholesome though.

You ask, “Do you know who’s ‘it’ right now?”

He responds, “No I honestly have no clue,” then turns to look at you to be met with the evil look in your eyes.

“It’s me.” He tries to run from you but you’re already on his heels before you both see your professor walking toward you. You both immediately slow down your pace to a slow walk and do a bad job of acting casual as you pass him. Clearly out of breath, your professor walks past saying,

“Almost time to get going guys. And stay out of trouble,” before continuing on to look for other students. It’s hard to tell if he was judging you or not with his sunglasses on. Trying to hold back laughter, the two of you speed up to a fast walk and try to find the rest of your friend group. When you find Johnny, he’s already rounded up the gang.

You feel Jaehyun elbow you in the side and when you look to him in confusion, he just says, “You’re it,” and keeps walking. You jog to catch up with him pushing him as you pass him to meet up, shooting a look over your shoulder at him. He smirks, knowing this game isn’t over. You’re all guided back to the bus as you make your way to stop for lunch before your second destination. There’s a lingering exhilaration you feel as you never know when Jaehyun is going to “tag” you next. Sometimes he leans over to talk to Johnny, showing how easily he could just reach over and get you. When you get off the bus, he stands back and holds out an arm as if saying “ladies first.” With him right behind you, you feel the need to stay right up behind Johnny on the way out, but run into him once when you aren’t careful. You mutter an apology and he says it’s okay but you can feel a bit of heat run to your face in a blush.

Once off the bus, the large group is told that there are many restaurants and cafes in this area and we can choose whatever we like for lunch. Of course, your group sticks together as you make your way out to observe what looks good.

Sungchan jokes, “ We could always hit the Burger King we saw on the way back there.” You laugh, but Xiaojun is unamused.

He says, “There is no way the first meal I’m having in Rome, in Italy is going to be Burger King.”

“I think we kind of have to have pizza, right y/n?” Renjun inputs.

“I agree,” you say, pulling out the trusty old Google search of “pizza near me” So many options pop up and you offer a place that doesn’t seem to have prices too high. The guys all agree and you start your walk in that direction.

Once you arrive, the five of you are seated at the charming location and decide on two pizzas, one with seemingly inoffensive ingredients and one a little adventurous with pears and sweet gorgonzola. At first, you’re a bit hesitant to try the sweet pizza, thinking it will be like pineapple on pizza or something, but you can’t refuse when Xiaojun tries it and makes such a big deal of asking you to try while holding his slice out to you to take a bite. When you do, you understand his reaction because it really is very amazing. I mean, you should’ve expected this. It is real, authentic Italian pizza.

After finishing lunch, you make your way to the second location: The Spanish Steps. You can see that your group was running a little late because your professor quickly waved you all over toward the large group and explained that he was hoping to get a few group photos here because the location is so picturesque. Of course, you’d all be fighting for a spot but eventually after waiting a while, the professor was able to get someone to take a photo for all of you as you spread yourself out on the steps. He offered to also take pictures for any smaller groups or individuals who wanted a photo. You can see some people start to split off and pose for instagram feed pictures or take small group photos, then offer to take a picture for the guys.

Johnny protests saying, “Nuh-uh, you have to be in the picture too!” You can’t hide the smile on your face from feeling included while Johnny goes to ask your professor to take your photo. You all pose in a nice formation for the picture and then your professor counts down.

After he takes a few, he says, “Okay, now a funny one.”

They all try their best to do something funny or make a funny face. But you never know what to do during these so you look around at them for ideas and you’re just about to copy Sungchan’s peace sign and cheesy smile when you feel someone’s arms grab your back and behind the knees, sweeping you into a bridal style hold. It’s not until Jaehyun’s head sweeps under your arm that you realize it was him.

You look at him with a shocked expression and he doesn’t even glance at you while he smiles for the camera saying, “You’re it.”

Masterlist

There's part 1 of Italy! Let me know if you enjoyed this by liking or commenting on this post! Whichever trip photo and chapters get the most likes or comments are the ones I’ll update first so feel free to give me feedback! I’m thinking this will be sort of a choose-your-own adventure so you can read all the alternative endings with each member.

#nct #nct scenarios #nct drabbles #moodboard #schooltrip!AU #nct 127 #wayv #nct dream #Italy #johnny suh #Jaehyun #xiaojun #renjun #sungchan

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